#They wouldn’t be weird out by their unmoving faces! because neither of their faces move!!

[sleepsi]

All it takes is one interesting tag on ao3 and suddenly my brain chemistry has been rewired

[theirbbygirl]

Second Lead Syndrome

Word Count: ~8.7k words

liked this? there’s more on my masterlist!

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Comedy, Female reader insert

Description: Y/n and Minho have been friends for more than 2 years now, but suddenly she begins to see herself as the mere second lead in Minho’s story. Will she be the rare second lead who gets her own happy ending?

Warnings: some crying, themes of unrequited love (if there’s anything that I missed don’t hesitated to let me know!) 

I’d only ever encountered Second Lead Syndrome in the dramas I’d watched. Wanting the girl to end up with the second lead who was so obviously the better and healthier choice, but like every avid watcher of kdramas, it's more than likely for the main leads to end up with each other, that was just how it worked. What I never thought I’d encounter was seeing it happen before my own eyes and experience it firsthand.

Life was never supposed to be a kdrama. Life was supposed to be simple, a straight line, going from point A to B with no complications. But life never really went my way did it? It just had to throw in one variable, one man that had too much influence on my life. 

I couldn’t remember the first time I met Minho. It was probably sometime in the first grade when his family first moved in next to mine. But alas, we were both too young to remember exactly what sparked our friendship. One day we were strangers and the next we had given our parents a near heart attack when we both went after a stray cat on the way back home (my mom’s words, not ours).  From then my memories were filled with him, just us besties hanging out like anyone would with their best friend. First party, first mental breakdown, first drink, all with him. Soon enough we were in our final year of University, and ultimately, adults. 

The Minho I knew was laid back, not too extroverted but not too introverted either. While I completely contrasted him, always anxious about something, wanting perfection to the T, and completely and utterly introverted.  Our friendship, moving into University, sparked a lot of questions. You wouldn’t typically find the introverted straight-A student with the borderline badboy tsundere walking and laughing in the halls together, spending practically every waking moment together. But Minho didn’t care, and neither did I, so we moved through life pretty easily. 

One of the few things we had in common was our love for cats, and when we both foudn out there was a cat cafe just a few minutes walk from our campus, you best bet we spent too much of our time and money there. Studying, hanging out, anything you could imagine. If we weren’t in one of our dorms, we were more than likely to be in the cat cafe. 

Every day after class we’d go there and we’d complain about our least favorite professors and how lectures would seemingly last for longer than they should. Additionally, Minho had almost become akin to my own dormmate with how much time he spent in my dorm. He’d come in whenever he wished, stealing my frozen pizzas and sodas, using my Netflix account on my TV to watch weird National Geographic shows and make random comments like “that snake looks just like Kim Seungmin,” or “look its Hannie” whenever a squirrel came on screen. Minho was always there when I needed a drinking partner after bombing a test or assignment, pouring me shots of soju until I passed out and bringing me to my bed and tucking me in whiel he would sleep on the couch to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid in the middle of the night. 

Although, more people knew Minho’s name than mine, but that didn’t bother any of us. We continued on being friends as usual, and it felt like nothing would change that. Life was moving in a straight line like it should’ve always been.

At least, that’s what it felt like until February, just a few months before we graduated. 

I make my way to our usual spot in the courtyard after buying an iced coffee and a snickers bar from the vending machine next to my classroom, I walk up behind Minho sitting on a bench when I find him staring out in front of him instead of looking at cat videos on his phone like he usually does. Slowing my walk, I trail my eyes to the vague direction he’s facing and see that he’s looking at Kim Seungmin and a girl chatting outside the classroom. I ignore the thought, opting to think that Minho must’ve spaced out thinking about how he would irritate Seungmin next class. I plop down next to him when he still doesn’t take note of my arrival, so I get right next to his ear and blow cold air into it, snickering when he jolts in surprise. 

“What was that for?” He whines, fake annoyed.

“You got lost up in your thoughts for a certain Kim Seungmin there.” I snicker some more, opening my snickers (hehe) bar.

Just as I’m about to take the first bite of the sugary goodness, the chocolate bar gets snatched out of my hands and a certain Lee Minho takes an obnoxious bite out of it, not even giving it back but eating it like it was his. I pout, watching him devour my snack, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to get it back. 

“For your information, I was not thinking about Kim Seungmin.” He says pointedly, slightly muffled by the chocolate in his mouth.

I sigh, knowing I wasn’t going to get that chocolate bar back any time soon, and open my iced coffee. “So what were you thinking about then?” I ask before taking a sip.

“Don’t know, spaced out.” Is all the answer I get and I highly doubt him, but I brush it off anyways and don’t pry. 

Minho and I slide into our usual conversation about assignments, plans for the week, and everything under the sun. We talk about how he’s planning to visit home the next day and stay for a weekend and how excited he is to see his cats after a long time, I unknowingly smile at his ramble about how talkative Dori is, and just sit back and listen. I never took into account how healing it was to just watch and listen to him talk, the sultry of his voice and his little exclamations of frustration or excitement that came once in a while. I had to catch myself from staring when he turned to look at me, having asked me a question I didn’t catch.

“Sorry what was that?” I ask.

“Am I that beautiful for you to have lost your hearing to my handsome face?” I couldn’t just tell him that that was basically what had happened, it would inflate his ego by too much and reveal everything I’d hidden thus far.

“The heck? No, I was thinking about how great it would be to get some peace and quiet while you’re not around this weekend.” I lie, having Minho around is the only thing that brings me entertainment that isn’t endless sappy kdramas on my laptop, but he can never know that. 

Minho scoffs, says something under his breath that I don’t quite catch, then turns back to me. “You love me.” He says with a pout.

“Unfortunately I do.” 

That was the first of many inconspicuous confessions. 

It was nearing 3 or 4 am and I was about halfway done with another kdrama when several knocks resound through the small living space. Knowing exactly who it is, I only shout back “you know the code!” and moments later the door opens. 

I don’t bother to get up and greet Minho, this exact scene has happened too many times for either of us to care at this point, and it doesn’t surprise me that the moment he enters he shouts, “Honey I’m home!” like we’re in some cheesy romcom. 

“Mhmm, welcome home, leech.” I enunciate the last word purposely, but I know he won’t bat an eye at the term. I continue to chew my popcorn while he wanders through my cabinets, looking for snacks. “There’s chips in the cabinet next to the fridge and sprite in there too. If you want more food order Chinese takeout.” 

“I don’t have my wallet.” I can practically hear his pout from where I sat, eyes unmoving from the TV screen. 

“You know where mine is, but you have to pay me back.” A few seconds pass with no response until suddenly he’s next to me and kissing my cheek.

“I loveeee you!” He says too sweetly, retreating back to the mini-kitchen to order takeout.

“Mhmm, I love you too.” I say, not loud enough for him to hear the confidence missing from my tone. 

Continuing to watch the episode of in front of me, I remain in my comfortable position, only moving to lift my legs when Minho comes back to sit on the couch under my legs and the blanket. 

“Oh you’re watching this one?” He asks, reaching into the bowl of popcorn I offer him.

“Yeah, didn’t have anything else to watch so I put it on since everyone seems to like it so much.” 

“Mm,” he hums while also indulging himself into the scenes playing in front of him. “You’re probably team potato guy, right?” 

“What kind of question is that? Of course I am!” I scoff.

“I don’t know, I still think she should end up with Jae-eon.”

“Are you crazy? He literally leads her on like every playboy and is ruining her mentality by not defining their relationship.” 

“Yeah, but they’re so cute together, and you can totally tell he feels something for her.” He argues.

“Just cause they’re cute together doesn’t mean they’re good for each other, the entire guy is a walking red flag, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just walk away when she’s had experience with a shit boyfriend.” I sigh.

“You, have major second lead syndrome.” He points an accusing finger at me.

“So what? It’s for good reason, the main lead is toxic as fuck and you can’t change my mind.” I upturn my nose, turning back to the TV and continuing to watch the episode. 

The mentioning of the second lead sends a flurry of thoughts into my brain for a reason I can’t comprehend. Sometimes the main leads aren’t that bad but still we want the main character to end up with the second lead, maybe out of our own natural selfishness because we prefer the second lead more. I shake the thoughts away, trying to convince myself that kdramas were only works of fiction and too cheesy to be real, yet for whatever reason I always felt a connection with the second leads, like our emotions directed to our crushes were the same, because I knew that I would always be the second lead in Minho’s story. 

Minho’s name was always called out more times than mine was growing up, which I didn’t really mind until our hangout time would be seriously cut down because he had to hang out with other friends. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that he had friends, but there was a little bit of selfishness in me that wanted him to myself.

A new drama and a few episodes later, plus Chinese takeout, lead to our eventual demise. We both fall asleep on the couch in less than comfortable positions and wake up with stiff-neck, us groaning at the pain. 

We continue on with our usual morning routines, taking turns freshening up in the bathroom before heading out for breakfast at Paws and Pastries since we were both too lazy to make food ourselves. Besides, hot coffee in the morning plus good sandwiches AND cats? What more could you ask for?

When we enter the cat cafe I notice a familiar face behind the cashier, it was the same girl Seungmin was talking to on Friday, and the same girl I caught Minho staring at. We walk up to the cashier, I order my food first, a simple breakfast sandwich with a coffee to go with it and wait next to Minho to finish ordering. 

I made the mistake up glancing up at his face as he was telling his order to her, Ahra, her name tag read. There was something in his eyes that glinted that I had never seen before, not when he talked to Han and not when he talked to me. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion in the middle of my chest before forcing myself to look back down, inserting my card and paying for everything. I sent the girl a thank you and a kind smile after she told us our food would be right over, and both me and Minho went over to our usual table in the back corner next to the cat’s jungle gym and right up next to the window. I get lost in my thoughts while we begin playing with the cats we were so accustomed to. 

Like most second leads, I knew exactly what my feelings were. I was practically an adult, how could I miss the fast beating of my heart or my clammy hands whenever I was around him? But again, like most second leads, I knew I’d never get a chance with him, not when everything we did together was purely platonic. It was painfully obvious that I’d be stuck with an unrequited love for who knows how long, and I couldn’t just detach myself from him all of a sudden to get over my feelings because a) he’d notice and force me to tell him what was wrong, ultimately leading me to tell him that I had feelings for him, and b) the moment I would come back or see him for even just a second I know I would develop those feelings all over again. Neither of which were choices I was willing to take so I suck it up and see him every day, ignoring everything my heart was telling me. 

I look up from the cat that I’m petting in my lap and look at Minho again, only to find him staring at Ahra who was taking people’s orders with a perfect pearly smile. It was in that moment that I knew, I had just found the female lead of Minho’s story.

3 weeks go by in a similar manner. Minho and I see Ahra around campus a few times and with some twisted fate, she’s on the clock every time we go to Paws and Pastries. Minho, being his smooth self, easily gets himself acquainted with her. They laugh and giggle so naturally and can slip into conversation so easily I’m almost envious of Minho and his non-introverted self. 

Not being one to try and stop fate, I watch it all happen. Telling Minho to ask her out already and teasing him about how lovesick he gets when he sees her nearby or at the cafe. I know Minho likes her when he blushes or gets defensive whenever I mention her in our conversations even though he’s never explicitly told me himself. I put on a face in front of him whenever these conversations come up, not wanting to get in the way of his happiness. 

One day some of our friends want to meet up outside of campus, we make plans to meet up at a bowling alley, ready to have fun until the late evening hours. Seungmin brought Ahra along with him, asking if it was okay to invite her since they were friends. Everyone agrees and we all meet up as planned. When everyone gets there, including Seungmin and Ahra, we introduce ourselves, Minho not having to introduce himself and easily speaking with her like they always did whenever running into each other. All the the boys have raised brows and mischievous smiles as they watch the interaction between the two, but only one looks at me in concern. 

A majority of the night passes by with laughter and teasing, how Chan was terrible at bowling this night and Minho easily beating him despite never doing too well on our previous adventures to the bowling alley. I spend the night with the rest of the boys, while Minho and Ahra spend time getting to know each other even more. There’s a point in the evening where I see Minho hold out his phone to Ahra to exchange numbers, I can hear her giggle when they take a selfie together, probably for her profile picture. I have to turn my head away quickly to ignore the cracking of my own heart when Minho puts his arm on the couch behind Ahra, he does it so naturally, yet he’s never done it with me. I will my thoughts to focus on the game and not on Minho, not noticing the same pair of concerned eyes until they speak up.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin asks. 

“Hm? Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” My voice cracks halfway through and I try to hide my sad eyes, even though I was fully aware that Hyunjin had probably noticed that something was up.

“‘Cause you seem pretty affected by that scene over there.” He motions to Minho and Ahra with a nod of his head. 

“It’s nothing, Hyun, just nice seeing Minho talking to more people.”

“Y/n, you know he talks to people all the time, and you’re not nearly as affected then as you are now.” 

“Hyunjin, really, it’s fine.” I try to convince him but he says something that lets me know that he knows.

“You like Minho.”

“What? No that’s absurd I-“ He looks at me pointedly, and I sigh in defeat. “Yeah, okay, you got me.”

“Why don’t you say anything? Clearly it hurts you to see him like that.” He refers to Minho getting cozy with her.

“Hyunjin, it’s clear that everything we have is platonic, he even called me his sister several times. And who am I to get in the way of him getting into a relationship? That’s not my place to say anything, especially when his last girlfriend was 2 years ago.” 

“I get that, but shouldn’t he at least deserve to know? He says that he knows everything about you, but there’s one thing that he doesn't. You know practically everything about him, isn’t it a little unfair?” 

“We have choices as to what we share with each other and what we don’t, it’s his choice to tell me what he wants to and my choice to tell him what I want to tell him. Besides, he hasn’t even told me that he has a crush on Ahra yet.” 

“So maybe he doesn’t then.” 

“Hyunjin, just look at him, he’s a puppy in love.” I glance back over to Minho and Ahra sitting parallel to us. Minho is smiling brightly, more brightly than I had seen in a while and I can’t help but let my lips upturn at the corners just slightly in another sad smile. 

Hyunjin sighs next to me, and I look back to him. “I’m sorry y/n, I really wish he would end up with you instead of her, it doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“Hey, don’t say that, Ahra seems like a nice girl, she and Minho will get along great. And nothing in life is fair Hyunjin, that’s just something you come to accept.” I say, getting up. “I’m gonna get some drinks, does anyone want anything?” I ask everyone.

“Cola!” “Me too!” “Me three!” “A lemonade please.” A few of the boys shout back.

“Anything for you guys?” I turn to Minho and Ahra. They both shake their heads. “Okay then, I’ll be back in a minute guys.” I smile at the group before going to get the drinks. 

While walking away from the group I let a teardrop fall from my eye, wiping it away just before I order.

Life’s unfair, that’s just something I have to accept. 

A week goes by and Minho’s talking about how he and Ahra message often, how he thinks they get along well and he’s gonna ask her out.

Another week goes by and they’ve gone on their first date, he takes her to the beach and they have a picnic. 

Two weeks after that they’ve gone on several dates and are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, I don’t even find out separately at this point, I find out with the rest of the group over dinner.

A few days after that Minho calls off one of our late night binge watching sessions, texting me an apology and that Ahra needs him. I tell him it’s okay and to send my regards to her. 

It’s a week and half after and Minho regularly calls off our meetups at the cafe after school or at one another’s dorms to tend to Ahra. I tell him it’s fine each time and to not feel bad. He did the same today, and I sit alone at our usual table, mindlessly petting a cat in my lap while zoning out into in my mug of coffee. 

All while this happens, I watch, and I let it happen. I don’t fight for him because it didn’t feel right, sometimes second leads let their love fall for someone else, and that’s all it felt like I could do. 

Fighting for Minho felt selfish, especially when I knew I had no chance and he’d already fallen for Ahra. I couldn’t suddenly come out of the blue and tell him “hey, I have feelings for you,” when he’s already dating Ahra, I’d look like a major asshole if I did. All I could do was watch and see how we begun to drift farther and farther apart. 

With Minho being absent more often, I don’t get to tell him much. Like the internship offer I got to continue pursuing graphic design in Itaewon. I got the email almost a week ago, and I had two more weeks to decide if I was going to take the offer. With nobody to consult about it with I continue to push it to the back of my mind, not wanting to deal with more stress just yet. 

Just as I’m taking another sip of my coffee a familiar head of long blonde hair enters the cafe. My head tilts to the side in confusion as he scans the room for someone when he meets eyes with me, he makes his way over and sits in the seat in front of me and doesn’t say anything.

“You’re rarely on this side of town, why are you here?” I ask Hyunjin first.

“I heard something from Ms. Kim in our art class and needed to know if it was true.” He says seriously.

“What…” I feel like I know what he’s going to say, but I ask anyways. “What did you hear?” 

“That you were offered an internship in Itaewon.” 

“Hyunjin I-“

“Is it really true? She said you had two more weeks to decide, how come you haven’t told anybody? Does Minho know? Are you gonna leave? What about-” He begins to spurt out question after question and it’s almost too much for me to handle.

“Hyunjin!” I raise my voice just slightly to get him to stop but I have to turn it down again when the volume of my voice makes a few of the other customers’ heads turn. “Calm down, yes it’s true, yes I have two more weeks to decide if I’m going or not, I didn’t know how I would tell any of you, no, Minho doesn’t know and I don’t plan on telling him.” 

“Are you… Are you gonna take the offer?” He asks slowly.

I prop my elbows onto the table as the cat leaves my lap and my head drops into my hands as I sigh in exasperation. “I don’t know.” Tears are gathering in my eyes as I think about it. 

“Y/n, have you thought about the offer at all?” 

“Yes and no.” I don’t need to lift my head to sense Hyunjin’s confusion. “It’s hard to think about it when you’re watching your crush of 2 years date someone else while you’re also trying to finish up your senior year. But it’s also all I can think about when I’m alone, which I find myself a lot, thinking about having to find a place to live in Itaewon and transfer and mentally prepare to leave you all here, but if I don’t take it then it’ll be even harder to find an offer like this. It’s all I can think about and also something that I can’t bring myself to think about, Hyunjin.” I lift my head and my teary eyes meet his own. 

“Y/n…” His voice breaks saying my name.

“I think I’m going to take it.” I pause. “Once I finish all of my final assignments the only thing I have left to really worry about is graduating and finding a job, and I don’t think I can take watching Minho and Ahra anymore Hyun, I don’t think I can stomach it. I’m happy for them, I truly am, but it’s also affecting me and I don’t think I should ignore that anymore. If I’m in Itaewon I have a job and I won’t have to worry about feelings anymore, two birds with one stone.” 

I see the hesitancy in Hyunjin’s facial expressions before he speaks. “If that’s what you think you should do, then I’ll support you all the way. But shouldn’t you tell Minho about this?” 

“I’m not, because if I do, Minho is gonna find some way to get me to stay and I’ll crumble and stay because he affects me the most.” Hyunjin merely nods in response. “Hyunjin, you are the only one that can know about this, okay? I can’t have everyone else know this, especially Minho, okay?”

Hesitation again, and then, “Okay.” 

Hyunjin keeps his promise, he keeps the secret of me leaving from everyone. Even as graduation inches closer and our group begins to talk more about job searching, what comes next, and similar topics, the two of us keep it a secret. Whenever they asked me what I was thinking of doing next I always just told them “oh probably looking for internships nearby,” and no more questions are asked. 

Minho and Ahra were still very much in love, even more than before, if the growing absence of Minho’s presence was anything to go by. I barely saw Minho anymore, maybe catching him at the end of the hall every once in awhile, but he was always walking with Ahra so all I could say was “hello” and “goodbye.” 

Each goodbye begun to hold more and more weight as the days passed. Even the short ones I would tell Minho after passing him in the halls. I couldn’t even conjure how I would tell everyone, maybe send a letter to each of their places? A text message? Tell them after the graduation ceremony just before I left for the train station? I thought about how I would say goodbye as I begun to pack up my dorm. Graduation was nearing, I had already turned in all of my final assignments, and all there was left was to pack. I would leave after the ceremony ended, sometime in the afternoon. I wouldn’t even get the chance to properly celebrate being graduates with my friends because I was leaving in the afternoon. I’d get situated in my new apartment in Itaewon and get accustomed to new life outside of Gimpo. 

The thought of leaving panged my heart harshly, I had never left Gimpo permanently before. Sure, I had gone on trips to the US and Singapore and Seoul before, but I had never moved from Gimpo. I was born and raised in Gimpo, met Minho and all of our friends here, so the thought of moving for the first time did something to my heart. I attended all of our group hangouts with a nostalgic mindset, remembering the first time we all met, when we all got wasted one time on a Friday night after some big exam week. I look around our table of friends and think about how much I’ll miss all of this when I leave for Itaewon. 

Another thing that panged my heart, Minho and I distancing. I knew it was coming, Minho and I didn’t text or talk about hanging out anymore. He walked Ahra to her classes now, and had dates with her after class instead of meeting me at our cafe. Eventually I stopped getting apology messages, and stopped expecting him at the cafe anymore. I couldn’t blame him, Ahra was his girlfriend and I accepted that long ago. Instead I just played the supportive friend on the sidelines, and I’d continue to play that role for as long as I had to. 

It came to be the night before we graduated, and all of us minus Minho and Ahra were sat around a table in one of the restaurants we frequented, it wasn’t too late in the evening, and we all just sat in silence after finishing our food with bottles and glasses of soju now sitting in front of us. A majority of our meal was full of reminiscing, talking about memories that crack everyone up and left smiles on our faces. 

“So, we really graduate tomorrow, huh?” Changbin says when the table quiets down.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Chan says quietly. 

My eyes tear up and I begin to sniff without control, the weight of my department tomorrow weighing heavily on my shoulders. Hyunjin puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a tissue, whispering “it’s okay, it’s okay” to me while I try to calm down.

Everyone looks at me in confusion before Chan speaks first. “Y/n are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” I trail off, not sure what to say.

“Do you want to tell them?” Hyunjin asks softly.

“Tell us what?” Seungmin says this time.

Hyunjin looks to me first before nodding, and I begin to spill my secret. “I got an internship offer.” 

The table erupts in cheers and I get congratulations thrown back at me before I can even continue.

“But…” Immediately everyone silences and looks to me in expectation. “It’s in Itaewon.” 

There’s a tense air that falls around us. “What?” Felix says in disbelief.

“You’re not leaving us, right Noona?” Jeongin asks from another part of the table. 

I look to Jeongin with sad eyes, smiling sadly. “I leave tomorrow, after our graduation ceremony.” There’s some gasps around the table.

“What?! Y/n, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Changbin blows up and Chan has to place a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

“I didn’t want every time we met leading up to graduation to feel like a goodbye, Bin, I couldn’t handle that. So I kept it from you all so there wasn’t this tension every time we met.” I explained.

“Does Minho know?” Seungmin asks this time, and I shake my head.

“Y/n…” Han says worriedly.

“Guys, I know I’m not the only one that’s noticed that me and Minho aren’t that close anymore, so I haven’t really gotten the chance to tell him. But I told Hyunjin this a long time ago, that I wouldn’t tell Minho specifically, because there’s some things that I need to figure out and if I told him he’d find some way to keep me from going, or even worse, follow me. At least with Ahra by his side he won’t follow me to Itaewon.” There’s nods all around the table, understanding where I’m coming from.

“We’re gonna miss you a lot.” Felix sniffs and I coo, getting up from my seat to wrap my arms around him from behind. 

“I’m gonna miss you all too.” I sniff with him, a few tears escaping my eyes. 

Chan comes to join our hug, then Han, then Jeongin, and soon enough everyone has joined the group hug with me in the middle. All of us are crying, and I had never felt more loved than that moment. 

Eventually we break away from the hug and return to our seats, everyone dabbing at their eyes with tissues and sniffing. 

“Let’s all stop crying, tonight is a night to celebrate, all of us graduate tomorrow, and our dear Y/n got an internship offer in a big city!” Han holds up a drink and we all do the same, cheering and clinking our glasses together and celebrating the night away. 

The next morning I get ready for graduation early, putting on my makeup and doing my hair, and sending a message. 

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

hey, can you meet me at p&p in thirty?

My heart picks up the pace as I send the message, I didn’t expect him to answer so quickly yet his message pings my phone within 2 minutes. 

from: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sure, i can be there

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sweet, i’ll see you there

I turn my phone off and take a deep breath, we still had a few hours before we had to be at the school for our graduation ceremony, I’d have to leave just a few minutes after the ceremony ended which wouldn’t give me enough time to tell Minho, so, I made the painful decision the night before to tell him in the morning. I’d do it in our favorite spot in the corner of our favorite cat cafe, tell him the news slowly and hope that he takes it well. 

I leave my house and 15 minutes later I’m in our usual booth, my coffee order sitting in front of me and the cats all wandering around as there weren’t too many people since it was relatively early in the morning. I already bought Minho his typical Iced Americano and it sat in front of me, awaiting it’s owner. 

10 minutes later Minho arrives and makes his way to the table, sitting in front of me, smiling, unknowing of what’s about to happen. 

“Hey.” I smile at him.

“Hey you.” He smiles back brightly. “Sorry I couldn’t see you guys last night, I took Ahra out for dinner last night on a date.”

“It’s completely alright, how are you guys?” 

“Pretty good, things are going okay right now.” He answers.

“That’s good.” Nervously I take a sip of my macchiato in front of me, my leg bouncing in anxiety. 

“Y/n? Is everything alright? Your leg’s bouncing pretty fast right now.” Curse Minho and the fact that he knows so much about me, he reaches out for my wrist and checks my pulse, quickly noticing how fast it’s beating as his brows furrow in confusion. 

“Minho, there’s something I need to tell you.” I say, retracting my wrist from his grip. He doesn’t answer me but instead tilts his head like a cat does when it looks at its owner questionably. “I’m leaving.” 

“What?” He asks.

How could one look so endearing, head tilted and eyes full of emotion as I break the news to him? I ask myself. “I got an internship offer for a company in Itaewon, I accepted it and I’m leaving for Itaewon, today.” 

“You’re leaving today?” He says in disbelief, sounding out of breath.

I nod and continue. “After the graduation today I have to catch my bus. I didn’t have any other time to tell you so I had to tell you now.” 

“You’re… You’re just telling me now? Do the others know about this?” 

“I only told them last night.”

“You couldn’t have thought of telling me sooner?” He starts to get angry.

“Minho I-“

“What happened to telling me everything, huh? What happened to when we used to know everything about each other?”

“Minho, those days are long behind us, you have bigger priorities now, like putting your focus on your girlfriend, Minho. I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d do something rash, and I didn’t even tell the others until last night because I knew every time we’d see each other it would be like preparing for the day I leave. You and Ahra have something so great going on for the two of you right now and telling you that I was leaving would take you away from that, and I can’t do that to you or her. Ahra is an amazing girl, and you have her now.”

“Will you at least visit?” His eyes are full of tears, some of the first I’ve seen in years and I hate that I’m the cause of it. 

“I don’t know yet, there’s some things I need to figure out myself first, before I can visit. But at some point maybe I will, when I’ve figured things out I’ll try visiting from time to time.” I offer him a sad smile. 

After a few moments of silence I get up from my seat. 

“We still have a graduation left, Min, I’ll still see you then.” I ruffle his hair and walk out of the cafe, no more secrets but one weighing down on my chest. 

The Graduation ceremony passes by in a blur. One moment we were listening to the speeches of each of the professors and the next we were tossing our caps into the air, cheering as we became alumni of our university. 

Our friend group met up in the front of the school, taking pictures with our parents and congratulating each other. Eventually, the time comes and I have to go. 

Our group stands in a circle, unmoving, as we all look at each other. 

“I’m gonna miss all of you so much.” I say in tears as my voice breaks.

“We’re gonna miss you too, Y/n.” Hyunjin says. At his words everyone gathers into a group hug full of tears and the weight of a goodbye on our shoulders. 

“You better promise to visit us, okay?” Felix holds me by the shoulders and makes a point to look me in the eye. Not trusting my voice, I nod and he brings me into one more hug. 

I hug each of them individually, saying a few words, before I reach the last person. 

I hug Minho and look into his eyes for the last time for a while.

“I’ll miss you.” He whispers.

“Me too.” And that’s all I can say. 

I leave the campus for the last time, hopping in my car to head to the station and start anew.

Second leads always leave in the end, they leave and let the two main leads have a happy ending. That’s what it felt like I was doing, and I couldn’t tell if I was content with my choice or not. 

Two and a half months in Itaewon passes quickly. 

The move into my new apartment was smooth, and it was odd to be in a bigger space than a small dorm room. It felt like I had more space than I knew what to do with. 

My internship was moving along smoothly as well, everyone I had met so far were really kind and taught me a lot. I was worried about feeling out of place but I had met a few other girls not much older than me who helped me feel at home. 

Being alone in a big city was unnerving, but what made it so much more comfortable was the addition of a cat that my parents had bought me as my graduation gift. She was a chartreux cat who I named Luna because I had always dreamed of naming my first cat that. My parents covered most of the costs of basic things like cat toys, a scratch post, her bed, and similar things. I thanked my parents endlessly when they came over to my apartment a week after I had moved in and gave me Luna. I wasn’t gone for too long during the day and always left food for her, she was great company when I came home and worked on projects late into the evening, curling up into my lap like the cats at the old cafe used to. She was my best friend in a city I was still getting accustomed to. 

I hadn’t talked to the guys much, I’d talked with them a few times in the group chat about how their job searches were going and trips they were planning to take soon. It was nice talking with them every so often but all of us were still pretty busy moving onto the next chapter of our lives. 

I hadn’t talked to Minho since I left, I’d assumed that he and Ahra were doing well, but that’s all that was, assumption. None of the boys talked about him and I couldn’t understand why, but I never asked since I was supposed to be moving on from my feelings in the first place. I thought I had been doing pretty well until something would come up that reminded me of him, like his favorite song would play in the cafe I bought my morning coffee in and spent my breaks at, or snapchat would send me “Today, 1 year ago” memories of him and me fooling around at Paws and Pastries. Whenever that would happen I’d be sent back to square one, and it felt like I’d never move on from Minho. 

I was on my way out to grab a coffee and spend my off day walking around, maybe looking into a few shops when I got a call from Hyunjin.

“Y/n! My favorite girl, how are you?”

“Hyunjin? What’s with the call?”

“What? Can I not call my friends from time to time?”

“Not when you’re notorious for calling your ‘friends’ after you’ve done something wrong.” I sigh.

“That was one time! Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

“You dragged Jeongin to a party! And got him wasted!” 

“One. Time. Y/n. It was one time.”

“One time is enough for you to be in trouble for life, Hyun.”

“Okay, whatever, but I was meaning to ask you, what’re your plans for today?” 

“Me? I was just planning to go out, today’s my day off so I was gonna visit this one cafe and see some shops, why?” 

“No reason, what time do you think you’ll be home?” 

“Maybe five?”

“Great, okay, I have to go now, Han’s calling me, bye!” Hyunjin hangs up before I can ask him what’s with the weird questions.

“Hyunjin- Oh great he hung up.” I put my phone in my pocket before looking down at Luna who’s stretching near my legs. “Your uncle Hyunjin is quite the odd one, isn’t he Luna, hm?” I ask her and she meows back in response. “Weird indeed, but that’s just how he is. Mommy’s gonna spend her day out and then she’ll come home and we can watch the TV together, okay? I’ll be home soon.” I pick up Luna and set her on her little bed before ensuring everything is safe and make my way out the door. 

I spend the day eating at a large cat cafe that actually had an assortment of books with little reading areas while the cats roamed around everywhere. It was much bigger than the cafe in Gimpo, but I would always correlate that one with home. 

After I spent a bit of time reading there I went out and explored the shops for a few hours, bought some new jeans and a few blouses plus some makeup things. I got Subway for lunch and explored just a little bit more before heading home. Instead of going straight home, I decided to take the long way, going through the streets not minding the extra weight the few shopping bags I was holding in my hands gave me. The sun was just barely beginning to set as I walked into my apartment complex, getting into the elevator and pressing the button for my floor. 

I walk down the hallway to my door and am surprised when a familiar figure greets me there. 

“Minho?” I say as I walk closer. 

“Y/n!” He says happily, bringing me into a hug. 

“What are you doing here? Actually- Wait- Don’t answer that, do you wanna come inside?” I ask him.

“Sure.” He responds. 

I unlock the door and bring my bags in, setting them by the door. “Luna! Mommy’s home!” I call out automatically.

Luna meows and comes out of the bedroom, walking her way up to me before I pick her up. 

“You got a cat?” Minho asks.

“Yeah, parents brought her to me about a week after I moved in.” I put Luna back down and she moves to sit on the arm of the couch, her favorite spot to sit when the sun goes down.

“And you named her Luna,” He smiles fondly. “You always wanted to name your cat Luna.” 

“I’m surprised you remember that.” I chuckle. “Do you want some coffee?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’ll get that brewing, just give me a few minutes, you can take a seat on the couch and make yourself at home!” I tell him as I quickly retreat to the kitchen.

I have to take a few breaths when I’m far away enough from Minho, my heart beating just as fast as it would when I was around him back then. It was clear I hadn’t moved on at all. 

I brew the coffee as promised and wait next to the coffee machine with two mugs ready. A voice chimes in behind me.

“Your place is much bigger than the dorms.” He chuckles.

“Tell me about it, it was so weird buying more furniture than I was used to.” I laugh with him. 

The machine finishes brewing the coffee and I pour it into the two mugs, putting it on a tray with creamer and sugar before bringing it all to the coffee table in front of the couch. 

Minho and I take seats on the couch, separated by a bit of space between us while we sip on our respective mugs.

“So,” I start the conversation. “How’s home?” 

“Not too bad, same old same old, the guys being annoying as usual, you know?” He says.

“Sounds fun.” I chuckle. “And work, have you found anything yet?” 

“Not yet, I’ve got a few applications out, but I’m still waiting on some answers.”

“I’m sure you’ll get them soon.” I respond. 

An uncomfortable silence sets over the both of us, and I run my free hand through Luna’s fur who’s situated herself in my lap this time. I take a long sip of my coffee before asking another question.

“How’s… How are you and Ahra?” 

“Oh…” He trails off. “We broke up a few weeks ago.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that…” I had no idea that he and Ahra had broken up, in fact that was the completely opposite of what I thought had happened since they seemed to work together so well. 

“Yeah, it was a mutual thing. We didn’t really feel that kind of connection anymore, you know? So we just, broke it off.” 

“Are you okay?” I ask Minho.

“Me? Yeah, I’m actually not as affected as I thought I’d be, I don’t know if that makes me a cruel person or not but I was only sad for the first week or two. Nothing too bad.” 

“I see.” Another silence settles between us. This one is longer, more tense, there was something Minho wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure, and I couldn’t depict what question he was going to ask.

“Actually, I came her for a reason.” He says.

“And what reason is that?” I ask hesitantly.

“For answers.” My brows furrow, answers for what? “There’s something Hyunjin told me recently and it got me thinking, and I wanted to hear it from you if it was true.”  

I finish my coffee and place it down delicately on the coffee table, trying not to show how nervous I was with how badly my hands were shaking. “I’ll see if I have answers for you then.” 

“When you told me you were leaving, you said you had some, things, to figure out on your own. What was it that you had to figure out?” 

I take a moment to decide exactly how I was going to answer his question. Did I want to expose my feelings to him just yet? “Just, feelings.” I say vaguely.

“For?”

“Just feelings for somebody.”

“Is it Hyunjin?”

“No.”

“Chan?”

“Nope.”

“Changbin?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Me?”

I pause for just a half second, and apparently that was all Minho needed. “I guess Hyunjin’s big mouth was right after all.”

“Wait- What? What are you talking about?” 

Minho takes a long sip of his coffee before finishing letting out a sigh after swallowing, he slowly sets the mug on the table before making direct eye contact with me and silently killing me with the suspense. “Minho please just say something you’re killing me here.”

He only chuckles in response. “Hyunjin told me not too long ago that you took up the offer to work here because you were going to sort out your feelings, for me.” He says sweetly as I suck in a breath at his last words. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minho-“

“Now now, Y/n, we shouldn’t hide things from each other anymore, should we?” His sweet, sultry voice was affecting me greatly as he leaned closer to me on the couch. I gulp and silently curse when Luna, the only thing keeping me sane, leaves the comfort of my lap for her scratch-post. 

“Minho…” I let out quietly.

“Tell me, Kitten, is it true?” He asks once again. 

“I-“ My voice catches in my throat when Minho leans in ever nearer, still making direct eye-contact with me. “Yes, it is.” I sigh out and Minho backs away. 

“He was right.” Minho whispers while my gaze drops to my hands that I fiddle with in my lap at the secret that’s let out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

“Why are you sorry darling?” He asks softly and uses his thumb and forefinger to tilt my head up by my chin. 

“I couldn’t tell you because I knew you didn’t feel the same, and then when you got together with Ahra we drifted apart because it hurt me to see you with her. Then I left and told you about me leaving so last minute. I made you cry, Minho, and I hate that I did. But I couldn’t see any other way out of it. I hurt you because I was cowardly and didn’t want to be selfish by telling you and having your attention move off of Ahra, when I was really being selfish by not telling you and hurting you in the end.” More tears escape my eyes as we look at each other.

“Princess, no…” He cups my face with his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. “I’ll admit, it did hurt when you told me that you were leaving the day of, but I understood where you were coming from. Because you were right, I would have done something crazy to keep you by my side. Do you know why?” He asks, and I shake my head, still crying. “Because I need you by my side, kitten, even when I was dating Ahra I felt off but just didn’t pay any mind to it because I had her. But now I know it’s because you and I were drifting apart, I found out when after you left and me and Ahra broke up because I felt empty. I couldn’t text you to just come over anymore because you’re farther away from me now. I lied earlier, I said that I sent out some applications for jobs but didn’t get any answers yet, right?” I nod. “I got offered a job as a software engineer, here, in Itaewon, and I said yes.” 

“Why?” I whisper.

“Because I want to be near you, I need to be by your side Y/n, because I love you.” I let out a sob at his confession and he coos, bringing me to rest my head on his chest and rubbing his hands on my back and running them through my hair. 

“I love you too.” I say after a few minutes. 

Minho brings me out of his hold, and cups my face again. For the first time, he kisses me. His lips brush over mine before deepening the kiss, taking full charge of it yet somehow still being soft with me. His kisses were nothing short of addicting, and I knew I’d be in love with him for a long time. 

In that moment, kissing the man of my dreams, I remember that it may be rare that a second lead gets their own happy ending, but it’s not unheard of. Sometimes the main lead and second lead do end up with their own happily ever after. 

Notes from the author: I have FINALLY posted something y’all 😂 took a few months but she’s here, and she’s dishing out something at least. I don’t know how often I’ll be posting again, esp with school and whatnot, but I do know I need to drain out my drafts because phew, it’s getting a little full in there. 

But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this fic! I’m pretty sure it’s one of the longest I’ve written if not the longest. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad, I’m probably a little rusty but we can fix that (i think)

if you want more I still have my old stuff up on my masterlist on my account! hope to see you around :))

-nyx

[e-jaegerenthusiast]

how eren lost his virginity

art credit to Redwarrior3 on DeviantArt

(not modern au, slight season 4 p1 spoilers )

“I’m making love with her through you, so let me keep my eyes closed”

warnings; smut, seducing manner, slight angst, masturbating, slight somnophilia, kind of dubcon? not really.

w.c; 2.4k

eren never thought much of his sexual desires, he didn’t have time to, neither did he have a logical explanation for them, no one had ever explained it to him either. as he grew older, he started feeling things, feeling things deep in his stomach. at first he associated them with his titan powers, he wouldn’t know what to make of it, his world was so much bigger now for him to focus on his raging hormones.

but he knew one thing, it only happened when mikasa was around. it would happen when he would watch her put her straps on for expeditions, the belts hugging her form tightly, showing out the features of her body. why was he always thinking about her body? his cheeks would grow a crimson red, looking away instantly, he was only fifteen after all.

but it started getting worse. at sixteen, his hair wasn’t the only thing that grew.. with that grew his lust, and his glances, and his frustration. one night, he couldn’t sleep, because something else was keeping him awake. he had woken up a few months ago with white, gooey liquid staining his crotch, he didn’t think much of it. only gave it a weird look and moved on with the trainings of his day.

but now? he was laying on his back in the sleeping quarters, his hair fanning around his neck as he sighed, his dick was straining against his pants painfully, even though he wasn’t wearing tight pants to sleep. he shuffled around his bunk bed, sitting up and looking above him, armin was asleep. his emerald eyes moved accross the room, to mikasa’s bed.

she slept on the bottom bunk, the top bunk empty. one of her arms was under her head, her knees bunched up into her stomach as she slept peacefully, her eyes were closed, lashes unmoving. eren’s lips tugged upwards, getting up from his own bed and tiptoeing over to hers.

he stood tall next to the bed, and then he leaned down, sitting on his knees so his face was leveled with hers. he stared at her, he didn’t even know how long, he studied all her features, he couldn’t look at her like this in the day. it would be too obvious, or she would think of him weirdly, he couldn’t stop the swooning feeling in his chest as he took her in.

her lashes were beautiful, he wanted to caress them. her cheeks were defined, he wondered how they would feel in his palms. her nose was turned upwards, he thought about how their noses would touch if they kissed. if they kissed… her lips, her lips looked so soft, he wanted to touch them, but he knew she was a light sleeper.

she always had her gaurd up, one touch to her face and she could wake up. he didn’t want to take that chance, but then he saw the way her short hair fell to her face, covering one side of her eye. his hands inched closer to her face, his calloused middle fingers grabbing at her hair and stroking it behind her ear, she took a deep breath in her sleep, and eren’s hand shook.

he retracted immediately, going back to his bed in slow steps, laying back down against the pillows. but his eyes were still open, and his dick was still hard, possibly harder now. he sighed, closing his eyes and squeezing them together, he had to focus. there’s no time for playing around now, he wasn’t a normal teenager. but didn’t he still have the normal teenager wants?

he moved up against the pillows, his back straight against the wall behind him, he looked down at himself, a very obvious bulge showing in his crotch, he furrowed his brows in confusion, what if he touched it? maybe it would go away. that’s what he thought.

his fingers gripped the waistline of his pants, moving it down slowly, he wasn’t wearing any underwear, he couldn’t sleep in them. his cock was now visible to him, standing straight up, dripping with precum. his face was disturbed, frowning because he didn’t even know his own body. all of his guardians have died before they could teach him anything.

he shook his head, trying to put negative thoughts away as he studied his own dick, he had never seen himself this big, this..long. he took his right hand, his fingers touching the tip of his cock, and he sighed, his eyes rolling back in his head. he looked back down again, wetness covering the tips of his fingers.

and then he experimented something else, taking his hand and wrapping all his fingers around his cock, gripping it like he should. he was panting, he hated himself for it. why was he so weak? his face was red as a tomato, he bit down on his bottom lip, closing his eyes, tilting his head to the side and gripping himself harder.

he then moved his hand, first in a circular motion around himself, and then up and down. they both felt different, one had him grunting deep in his throat, and the other had him panting crazy. then he combined them, and his eyes shot open in pleasure. but since his head was tilted, the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was mikasa’s sleeping face.

suddenly, the pleasure felt five times better, he threw his head back, adam apple bobbing as he swallowed. he looked back at her again, she looked so innocent like this, he wanted to ruin it. he looked at the same features he had before. her lashes, he wanted to see them flutter just like his were right now. her cheeks, he wanted to see a deep red like his were now. her nose, he wanted to feel her breath deeply through it just like he was doing now.

and her lips? he wanted to ruin them, he didn’t know how. he didn’t know how he could use his dick with her, surely there was a purpose for the pleasure he was feeling? surely he could share it with her. when he thought of that, and thought of her body, how her tits would slightly rise up and down with the calculated breaths she was taking, he wanted to ruin those breaths.

he moved his hand faster, jerking himself off to her. all he could think about was her, her, her. he brought his left arm up, wanting to bite down on it to hide his moans, because they were going to get louder, he didn’t know why, but he felt it. as soon as he opened his mouth to bite down on his arm, he retracted, images of him turning into a titan and destroying everything making him slightly panic.

he couldn’t take that risk, he brought his arm down in frustration, taking the blanket near him and biting down on it harshly, he knew he had sharp fangs. he couldn’t risk it if he drew blood on his own skin, he thought he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

his grunts were muffled against the fabric, his head tilting towards mikasa again, and when she moved her sleeping position, laying on her stomach, he could see her plump ass so perfectly. his hips bucked up against his own hand, tears prickling around his lashes as he came hard. he didn’t know what was happening, but it felt good. so he kept going until his stomach was covered in the same white liquid that he saw before.

some of it covered his hands, dripping down his fingers, he let out a deep breath, smiling and sighing at the same time. he got rid of the frustration. he didn’t know how, but he did. he got up to clean himself with a cloth, staring at armin which was sleeping soundlessly on the top bunk. he’d ask him about this stuff tommorow, surely he had read some books on human anatomy. the only thing eren didn’t know, was that this was a start of an addiction.

•••

eighteen.

he kept his eye on the marleyan nurse, bored and bland expression on his face, he studied her body language, he knew what it meant. he knew that she was desperate for him, her cunt was desperate for him. he could feel it everytime she wrapped a new set of bandages around his eye that he supposedly lost. she’d put one of her legs in between his crotch, her knee pressing against his inner thigh as she slowly wrapped the bandage around his head.

this time, she didn’t move after she had finished with the bandage. her knee inched closer to his crotch as she spoke with her too-girly of a voice, her fingers brushing up against the stubble on his jaw, “mr.kruger,” his eyes studied her face, she was biting her lip. he hummed indifferently, the name was now familiar to his ears, it was like he was one with him. he had his memories after all. “why don’t you shave your beard?” he wasn’t even blinking, just staring at her eyes as they raked over him shamelessly.

her hands went to his long hair, stroking some strands that were in his face back, “or cut your hair? should I cut it for you?” he stared back at her, his hand going to hers in his hair, putting it down so she could stop touching it. “I like it better this way, nurse.” he said in a bored tone. I don’t because I need to move forward.

she smiled, but it wasn’t the smile he wanted to see. it didn’t suit her, he wanted to get it off her face. her hands moved down his chest, his breaths controlled as she spoke in what she thought a seductive tone, to him it was just annoying. “call me mia, eren.”

his nose twitched, stopping himself from scrunching it at the way she said his name, her hands went to her throat in a mere second, pushing her close so their noses were touching, “but you need to keep calling me mr.kruger, got it?” his fingers squeezed around her throat, making her let out a choked out hum, smiling as she completely straddled his lap now.

he wanted to shove her off, bend her over the table next to them and fuck into her without having to see her face, it wasn’t the one he wanted to see. but he couldn’t even do that, he had to pretend he actually lost half his leg. how pathetic, he thought.

so he let her, he let her grind her cunt against his thigh with his eyes closed. he pretended it’s her, he thought of her, that’s the only way he could get himself hard. mia’s aroma was all around him, it didn’t smell like her. so he stopped breathing through his nose, he opened his mouth to breath instead. she thought he was enjoying it though, she though his simple breathing was him panting. so she smiled, eren didn’t even need to see it to know. dumb bitch.

he frowned as she let a moan out, opening his eyes and looking at her with anger, he pretend a fake smile, “you gotta keep quite, mi— mia, got it? wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re getting off on a poor patient okay?” he didn’t want to hear her. she didn’t sound like her. she nodded aggressively, biting her lips as her hands went to the waistline of his pants, pulling them down.

her eyes widened at his size, her movements on his thigh stopping. he scoffs, “what? didn’t you want it?” bet they’re all shrimps in marley, you’ve never had a paradis devil’s dick have you? he thought, internally smiling.

she was frozen, her jaw wide open as he took his hands to her hips, bringing her up to the tip of his cock, she looked alarmed, “you can take it. you have to, after all the weeks of touching me.” she winced as he entered her, he didn’t even make a sound. his eyes were open as she let out deep breaths, trying to keep her moans in like he asked of her.

he bottomed out, letting her adjust to his thickness for a few seconds as he shushed her, “sshh now, we wouldn’t want everyone to know how much of a whore you are to your patients.” she bit down on her own arm, circling her hips into eren, and clenching down hard around him.

eren threw his head back, tapping on her hip twice, “go on then, use my cock to fulfill your stupid desires.” he closed his eyes, feeling her struggle to move up and down above him, but she got the hang of it eventually, her hands bunching up eren’s shirt as she rode him.

all he thought of was her. behind his closed lids, it was mikasa who was bouncing on his cock, it was mikasa that he lost his virginity to, it was mikasa that was letting out ragged breaths struggling to take his cock.

until he felt lips on his own, kissing him. they didn’t feel like her. he had spent years looking at her lips, he would know every ridge of them if they were to ever be on his. he growled, his hands going to mia’s hips and starting to fuck up into her. her mouth was open, but no sounds were coming out.

he grunted as he fucked up into her, his hands tightening around her waist, some of his long hair sticking to his forhead. he could feel her clenching around him, her arms around his neck tightly, his head buried in her neck but still not breathing through his nose.

and as she came around him, he felt like he was close too, his eye squeezed so shut he could almost feel pain in the one he didn’t have. he was close, until he felt her boobs press up against his clothed chest. they were too small, they weren’t hers. she wasn’t her. she couldn’t cum without her. her, her, always her.

so then he refused the offer of the nurse going down on him, that would be worse. he wouldn’t want anyone’s mouth near his cock if it wasn’t her. the nurse got out, struggling to walk as she tripped on her own steps. and eren? he had to take care of himself, like the many times he did after that night.

all he thought about was her as he came, trying to scramble through the memories of the future in his head. one were he could feel her, feel all of her. how could he work towards that? what choices would he have to make? how many people would have to die? he was going insane.

© all content belongs to e-jaegerenthusiast, do not repost or copy any of my work

[tt0bu]

Periwinkles

Originally posted at AO3

Fandom: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: GiyuuTan

*

The first time Kamado Tanjirou met Tomioka Giyuu, he was eight years old.

His Ma and Pa came out of the back door, away from their old oven where the last batch of the shokupan was left to sit, maybe to burn, since little Tanjirou thought something must be wrong. There was haste in his father’s steps, hurried and careful. His mother’s strides were stiff, nervous, unsure. Nezuko, his little sister, was pulling on the grass where she sat, streaks of bright sunlight bouncing off her giggling face.

Tanjirou watched his parents trek up to the end of the street on that little hill in the middle of a city they call home.

He saw every adult from the neighborhood walk the same path, disappearing behind the gates of Nishida-san’s house.

Except for one unfamiliar uncle.

The said uncle, who looked too western, who looked like those uncles from foreigner spy movies his father loved watching, stood unmoving under the waiting shed just across the Kamados’ home. He was looking towards the end of the street too, where all the adults had disappeared, but made no move to follow. He was holding a black book close to his chest, and little Tanjirou couldn’t see anything aside from three blue lines on the cover of it.

New neighbor? “Uncle!” he called out to the man, jumping on his feet and waving his little palm enthusiastically. His young mind wouldn’t have noticed, but whenever Tanjirou would look back to this moment, he finds it weird how everything just disappeared – no adult to reprimand him because he was talking to a stranger, no chirping of the sparrows perched on the wisteria tree behind their fence, no sound from the nearby train station.

Maybe he dislikes being called uncle? The unfamiliar man with raven black hair and pale skin didn’t heed his call, not sparing a glance at the curious boy trying to catch his attention. Tanjirou took the man’s cold demeanor as a sign of discomfort, probably because he may be new to the neighbourhood. But it did not stop him from crossing the street, diligently looking to his left and right, twice to be absolutely sure, just like how his Pa taught him.

“Uncle,” his tiny hands pulled at the hem of the coat the pale man wore.

Tanjirou saw how the most beautiful pair of eyes, blue like the noon skies and the periwinkles he picks behind the hill where the Hashibiras live, looked down on his little self with disbelief. The man continued to gawk on him, gaping and frozen in his place. He clutched the thick book closer to his chest, tightening his grasp on its spine. The blue lines seemed to shimmer, a quick flash of shine running through the three lines, but Tanjirou thought nothing of it. After all, it’s almost naptime, his eyes may be playing tricks on him at the moment.

“You-“ the pale man with the clothes of a spy and the eyes of the sky swallowed, eyeing little Tanjirou with hesitation. “-you can see me?”

“Uhhh,” Tanjirou looked around, but neither his parents nor the neighbor uncles and aunts were in sight. “Am I not supposed to? Are you hiding from anyone?”

“How, how is this possible?” the boy heard the pale man whispered, his own burgundy eyes examining the leather shoes he wore. Those are pretty shoes, but he never saw his father wear one. Maybe, when he gets a little bigger, he will get the same pair for his Pa. “You never saw me before. Not even once, not even when you d-“ the man with blue eyes bit his bottom lips and stopped muttering to himself. “What’s the difference this time?”

“Uh-oh, no,” Tanjirou shook his head, the hanafuda card earrings swaying along his movement. “Are you new here, Uncle? Are you lost? My Ma and Pa went to Nishida-san’s house but if you’re hungry I can get you these anpans my Pa made! They sell out really, really fast and I’m lucky Ma keeps some for me and my little sister before taking them to the store-“

By the time Tanjirou realised the lost uncle was never really listening to him in the first place, he could already hear the faint wailing and sobbing from the house at the end of the street. However, before he could ask, he heard the lost uncle take a shaky breath, pinching the base of his nose in annoyance, Tanjirou wasn’t sure, before carefully opening his book to a certain page. The pale uncle traced what the little burgundy-haired boy could only imagine were words, before softly uttering the name he knew very well.

“Nishida Sora. 58. Lung disease.”

“Oh!” Tanjirou bounced on his feet at the idea. “You know Nishida-san? Are you here for him? If you don’t know where he lives, just walk to the end of the street. You’ll see a really huge wooden gate with crow carvings. That’s where he lives!”

The pale, blue-eyed uncle didn’t even acknowledge his words.

“If you want, I can walk with you. I just need to take Nezuko with-“

The lost uncle gently tugged on his collar to stop him from running back to their home. “I know where it is, tiny human.”

“Owwkay, big human!” The man visibly grimaced at his words, yet Tanjirou beamed. “Are you his doctor?”

The big human seemed to be ignoring him again.

“Sensei?”

“Uncle?”

“Sir?”

“Grandpa?”

“Grandpa? Do I look that old?” Blue eyes met tiny burgundy ones again, offended, making Tanjirou giggle on the back of his hand. The little boy just shrugged, rocking back and forth on the heel of his feet. He saw the uncle sighed once more before shaking his head. “Cheeky tiny human.”

Tanjirou pretended to know what cheeky meant, tilting his head to the side to get a proper look at the man who was ignoring him a minute ago. “Are you Nishidan-san’s relative? I can introduce you if you want?”

“No. I am here to collect.”

“Collect? Collect what? Stones? Bugs? Ohhh! I know a great spot to catch emperor beetles! Inosuke-chan always catches the biggest ones though and Zenitsu-chan’s just a scaredy cat so we don’t have to worry-“

“No, not that. Not beetles. Look-” This time, the man crouched to the little boy’s eye level, and with the close up view of his blue eyes, Tanjirou thought he was staring at the sky itself. “You shouldn’t be seeing me. You shouldn’t be talking to me.”

“I can see you though. I have eyes, Uncle. Ma said they’re very pretty.”

“That’s true – uhum.” The big human coughed to his fist, hiding his face. Tanjirou wanted to ask if he was alright and should he fetch this uncle a glass of water? But the man faced him again, gone was his coughing fit. “Didn’t your parents teach you not to talk to strangers?”

“They did.”

“And?”

Little Tanjirou tapped his finger against his chin, pursing his lips, deep in his childish thoughts. “You seem lonely, and Ma said if one of my classmates smelled lonely, I should do something to cheer them up!” He tugged on the hand of the pale uncle, jumping slightly at how cold his palm felt. “What’s your name? I’m Tanjirou!”

“I don’t have a name.”

“Boo! Don’t be silly!” Tanjirou giggled like a child on a swing flying into the air. “Everybody has a name!”

“Not me.”

“But I told you mine!” Tanjirou stomped his little feet on the concrete pavement of the empty street, throwing a tantrum. His father would give him a good scolding, maybe a little spanking, should he see the burgundy-haired boy giving others troubles. Remembering his father’s words, Tanjirou decided to attack from a different angle.

“Hey, hey – hey, oh, come on.” The blue-eyed man crouched again, meeting teary, burgundy orbs and blushing cheeks. “What now? Why are you crying?”

“Because you wouldn’t tell me your name!” Tanjirou wailed louder, acting like a spoiled little kid which is nothing like him, all because he wanted to befriend this uncle who has the bluest eyes, who looked like a spy.

The big human exhaled, evidently troubled, while Tanjirou beamed. “Fine. You can call me Yuu.”

“Yuu-chan!”

“Not Yuu-chan. Yuu. Yuu.”

“Yuu-chan!”

“Why am I even trying,” Yuu-chan whispered mostly to himself, and Tanjirou’s grin grew wider. “I need to go. Nishida Sora will be here any moment. Is that your house?”

Tanjirou followed where his Yuu-chan was pointing. Red, wooden gates, unlit house lanterns, an old service truck with Kamado Bakery hand painted on its back. Yep. That’s their house. “Yes, Yuu-chan! I live there!”

“Come.” The little burgundy-haired boy tilted his head slightly to the side, confused. Uncle Yuu-chan seemed to understand his unspoken question. “I’ll walk you back to your home.”

Years later, when Tanjirou would look back to that moment, he would laugh at the memory of what he would always fondly call as his first brush with death. But his little self wouldn’t realize that, enjoying the coldness of Yuzu-chan’s palm against his own, celebrating his newfound friendship. He wouldn’t catch how Nezuko, as young as she was, got confused about him laughing on his own, hand raised in the air like he was holding something invisible.

Later that night, delirious from a high fever, Tanjirou dreamt of blue skies and periwinkles and spies invading Japan in crisp suits.

-

“I heard you spoke to humans today, Giyuu.”

“Human. A tiny human, Shinobu. So what of it?”

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“He has the gift of Sight!”

“Just be careful, Giyuu. They may let this slip up pass, but we both know consequences are harsh. There’s a reason we never interact with living, breathing humans.”

“I know.”

“I’m sure you do.”

-

Tanjirou would always look out of his room’s window, ceremoniously, watching each and every adult passing on their street. He was lucky enough to have his room on the upper floor, albeit slightly hating the room during summertime when the sun would burn through the roof. But it was the perfect place, for he can spot Yuu-chan from the crossing.

He mentioned Yuu-chan one evening at dinner, and even when his Ma and Pa was glad he made the new neighbor feel welcomed, they expressed their interest in getting to know the blue-eyed man. He even overheard them talking about it when he went for a pee and his parents were in the living room watching old spy movies again.

“Tanjirou said he’s a new neighbor. But we didn’t hear anyone moving here.”

His father’s kind voice cut through his mother’s worried one. “I’m sure he’s just a passerby.”

“But what if...”

“Don’t worry, if anything, he may be talking about an imaginary friend. Yuu-chan seemed harmless.”

Imaginary? He’s pretty sure Yuu-chan is real! But even if he wanted to defend his ‘not-imaginary’ friend, he would hear his Ma’s voice reminding him to never eavesdrop at adult conversations, Tanjirou. So he let them be, did his business, and went back to sleep. He decided between dreams that he would invite Yuu-chan to his home one day.

But Yuu-chan never showed up at his street again for a long time.

It was snowing when Tanjirou saw him once more. Not the harsh, unpleasant winter, but enough to color the world white. He was clothed from head to toe, layers over layers of protective shirts, mittens and socks. His Ma had always been careful, reminding him that it would be awful to catch a cold during Christmastime.

He was permitted to accompany his Ma on her trip to the local hospital to drop their freshly baked breads and pastries, a Kamado tradition during the holidays. His parents would wake up really early to prepare for it, kneading doughs and cooking fillings because it would mean the world for the health workers if they can get savoury curry pans or their bestselling anpans in between shifts.

Tanjirou watched as his mother dropped the box on the counter, the hospital guard behind her bringing the second one. From the corner of his eyes, on the far-end of the long, white, empty corridor, stood a man who seemed too familiar to him. Before he could even think, Tanjirou let go of his mother’s dress, walking hastily to catch up, sprinting into a full run when the figure headed for the door.

Yuu-chan?

Tanjirou really did his best to catch up, but his tiny legs could only do so much, the stranger who bore resemblance to Yuu-chan got further away even when he pushed against the floor with all his strength. He did not hear his mother’s faint cry, calling his name, wondering where on earth would his first born go and who he was chasing after. But Tanjirou only had one thing in his mind.

“Yuu-chan!” He pushed the heavy glass door open with his little hands, no guard to hold it for him since the man helped his Ma haul the box of pastries inside. But the stranger, with the same black hair cascading below his shoulders in a loose bun, the same crisp gray suit, the same lonely, closed off scent, didn’t acknowledge the pet name. So he tried, hoping to get a reaction, his young heart clenching in sadness because why wouldn’t Yuu-chan want to talk to him? How did his collection go? Would he know if Nishida-san was really gone? “Yuu!”

The man continued walking, past the gates, leaving no chance for the boy to catch up. Tanjirou watched as Yuu-chan turned right to the sidewalk, disappearing behind the brick wall. He wanted to run and give chase even when his lungs felt like it was shrinking in exhaustion, his legs numb from the sprint, his head aching from the lack of oxygen. But  before he could move, a gentle yet firm hand grabbed him by his left shoulder, spun him around and before he even realized, his Ma’s comforting and worried scent enveloped him.

“Don’t you dare do that again, my boy.” His Ma whispered in his hair, running her palm up and down Tanjirou’s back to let him know he wasn’t in trouble. “You scared me Tanjirou. What was that about?”

“Sorry Ma,” he was suddenly sobbing, partly because Yuu-chan ignored him like he was a stranger, but mainly because his Ma’s scent was so distressed, anguished, and he never wanted to make his Ma feel that way again. “I-“ a hiccup. “I saw Yuu-chan and I wanted to say hi but-“ another hiccup, and he reached up to wipe the snot dribbling from his nose with the back of his hand. “-but maybe he didn’t like to be my friend anymore.”

“Oh Tanjirou,” his Ma cooed, embracing him tightly against her chest, occasionally wiping his son’s face with her handkerchief. If she noticed that there were no fresh footprints on the snow, no signs of another human being around, she never said a word. Even when she saw his son calling out Yuu-chan to an empty corridor, running after a formless person, she never mentioned a thing. His son doesn’t need anymore heartbreaks on Christmastime, and doesn’t need to hear about how this Yuu-chan is only a fragment of his imagination.

-

Year: 1945

Month: April

Day: 26

Battle of Okinawa

Giyuu stood in the middle of the dense foliage, on the isolated island of Okinawa, as he watched soldier after soldier fall to their death at the hand of the enemy. Bombs would go off in the distance, their detonation shaking the earth. But he stood unmoving, completely in displeased awe, because this was a scene he had witnessed numerous times before.

“I will never understand humans and their obsession with war.” Makomo stepped quietly to the ground beside Giyuu, and he knew his fellow collector shared his facial expression. They were tired of humans killing each other, hurting each other, to satisfy their greed and hunger. “It hurts Them, these pointless endeavour of humans to best each other.”

“How many have you got?” He chose to ask instead, because even if they wanted to do something, they’re merely collectors. Humans and their dumb ways of dying were out of their duty; they were just sent to collect their due.

“Considering the numbers of soldiers on this island and the guarantee that not even a fourth will come out alive?” Makomo opened her book, flipping several pages. “A lot. You?”

“Thinking about the cups of tea I have to prepare for Choosing already wore me out.”

“Don’t worry, Giyuu. Kyojurou, Mitsuri, and Tengen are here too. Who knows, maybe the numbers are off and we won’t have to collect these much considering the collectors present?”

“When was the book ever wrong, Makomo?”

“Don’t ruin my optimism!”

Their little banter to pass time came to an end when a young, bleeding soldier ran towards their way, a group of foreign forces hot on his trail. He hid behind the trunk of a fallen tree, crying and clutching his jammed rifle to his chest. Giyuu only saw a part of his hair, black like his own, peeking under the helmet he wore on his head. Soot and mud dirtied his young face, but what caught the blue-eyed collector’s interest was his fierce, burgundy eye.

Eye, because his right was shut close, blood covering the half of his face.

“This is what I hate the most.” Makomo opened her book again, tracing the names under her watch. Once she located what she needed, she clicked her tongue in frustration. “Beautiful, innocent souls like him who get dragged to a war he did not wish for. Do you think he cries because he knows he’ll never see his family again? Or perhaps, because he killed another human even when he didn’t even want to fight this war?”

“I think he’s praying.”

“Should we listen to his words?”

“What? No, that’s private.” Giyuu looked at his companion with slight horror in his expression. “He prays to Them, and we can’t disrespect this young soldier’s last minute on this land.”

“I’m just kidding!” Makomo poked him on his cheek, but immediately turned when footstep grew nearer. When they saw the group of soldiers who gave chase surround the praying man, Makomo tucked her book in her arms and whispered. “It’s almost time, little soldier. I’m sorry your family will never see your beautiful eyes again.”

Giyuu decided to leave and do his part of the job too. He gave one last glance at the praying soldier, only to see one of the enemy hammer the heel of his rifle down to the wounded soldier’s forehead. Said soldier slumped against the trunk, but Giyuu thought he saw enough and turned around in haste.

A blunt force like that would likely scar, and he hoped it won’t seep through the soul. But it had been a traumatic experience for the young soldier with burgundy eyes, spending his last minutes alive surrounded by unfriendly faces. That wound would be a birthmark in most cases, but Giyuu hoped this soldier wouldn’t carry the wound to his next life should he choose to be reborn.

-

Tanjirou reached for the towel as he straightened his back, wiping away the droplets of water on his face. He absentmindedly traced the birth mark on his forehead as he brushed his teeth, his mind going over his plans for the day. He will meet Inosuke and Zenitsu at the latter’s grandpa’s house for a group study in preparation for their high school entrance exam. On his way back, he has to buy cough drops for his Pa who refused to see a doctor and will always counter their arguments with all I need is a good night sleep and plenty of water.

There’s nothing much to do for the day but to study, he figured, so he stuffed all his textbooks and notes into his bag and rode his bike to the Hashibiras to collect his friend. Inosuke thrashed like a bug lying on its back, complaining about why he always gets to sit and not pedal. He said he bets he’s a much better rider than Gonpachiro.

“It’s my bike, Inosuke. That’s why.”

“You’re just afraid I’m better at bikes than you, Monjirou.”

Zenitsu once told him, back when they were young, that Inosuke would actually get their name right after seven tries. I counted, his blond friend would say, because he kept yelling at me and shoving worms and beetles and acorn nuts in my face. Tanjirou tried to keep track the first few months after knowing the dumb fact, but eventually grew tired counting the wrong names before he could hear the right one.

The burgundy-haired teenager squeezed on the breaks, the rubber tires squeaking against the asphalt. He then got off, and gestured for Inosuke to take the handlebar grip. “Pedal away, Inosuke-sama.”

“Ha!” His loud friend thumped his back, with the aggressiveness that would match his excessive energy. Tanjirou had to step a foot forward to stop himself from toppling over. “I knew choosing you as my favorite friend was the right decision!”

Tanjirou shook his head with a little laugh. “Oh, what an honor!”

“Stop daydreaming and get on already! I can’t wait to run Monitsu over!”

“Don’t do that Inosuke.” Tanjirou transferred his backpack to his front, facing the opposite direction, watching the hills roll as his friend pedalled vigorously downhill. He only realised his mistake when they zoomed past the gate of Zenitsu’s home. “Inosuke, stop! Don’t go too fast –“ Tanjirou looked back to see his blond friend getting smaller and smaller until he was just a tiny dot of yellow. “ – we’ve passed by Zenitsu’s house! Turned around!” He shouted over his shoulder, closer to his friend’s ear. “Inosuke! TURN AROUND!”

Without a warning, Inosuke swiveled a hundred and eighty degrees, not knowing he had almost threw Tanjirou off. The burgundy-haired miserable back rider yelped in surprise and fear for his life. But before he could complain, Inosuke started pedalling again with the same intensity, Tanjirou thought he would die on the ride back to where Zenitsu’s home is. Good thing his friend waved and jumped, catching Inosuke’s attention, and the boy squeezed on the break so hard they almost did a cartwheel with the bike.

Never again, Tanjirou thought, as he combed back his hair. I refuse to ride a bike with Inosuke ever again.

“Wow,” Zenitsu stared at the two of them from head to toe. “I’m surprised you didn’t get into an accident.”

“He’s a walking accident.” Tanjirou pointed at his friend who wore his favorite boar shirt. “I am not getting on a bike with you again.”

“Just admit I’m better than you!”

Zenitsu pushed the two of them inside before their pointless discussion lengthened, the three greeting grandpa Jigoro along the way. Soon they fell into a series of question and answer, index cards and flashcards flying across the room. Inosuke would constantly complain about math and why did he have to learn such useless things. Zenitsu would also complain about Inosuke’s complaints, but would snatch away the problem, solve it for the boy, and explain how he got 12 as the value of X.

“Uhhhh,” Tanjirou stretched his arms, arching his back to pop the joints as he stood from their table. “I’m going for a quick konbini run. Anything you guys want?”

“Didn’t you bring any snacks from the bakery?”

“We didn’t open today. Pa’s sick.”

“Onigiri and Nissin for me, Tontaro!”

“Same, but I want tamago sando instead of onigiri.”

“Then it’s not the same, stupid butter head!”

“Bold of you to call me stupid when you’re the walking definition of the word!”

Tanjirou didn’t want to witness the inevitable wrestling match to which Inosuke would mercilessly hug Zenitsu from the back to squeeze out his oxygen, so he excused himself without saying a word. He checked for his wallet before mounting his bike. He didn’t spot any konbini on the way, so he decided to try the opposite street so see if there’s a nearby store. To his luck, he saw the green and red signboard a couple of streets away.

He parked his bike on the sidewalk as he repeated his friends’ choice of snack over and over again to make sure he wouldn’t forget. He opted for a katsu sando and a bag of potato chips, carrying all the food he picked to the counter. Just as the girl behind the register dropped the change to his open hands, he caught a hauntingly familiar figure, through the glass walls of the konbini, with the identical black book held against his chest.

No way.

Yuu-chan?

He quickly grabbed the brown paper bag after throwing a hurried sankyu to the cashier , pushing the doors with his shoulder. He then left the bag on the basket of his bike, before taking off to run after his Yuu-chan. Why didn’t he take the bike instead, Tanjirou could no longer think rationally because he couldn’t believe he’s about to see Yuu’s after all these years.

Was his eyes playing tricks on him again?

Because there’s just no way the person he was made to believe wasn’t real and was just a part of his childhood imagination was actually there. He looked exactly the same; charcoal gray three piece suit, light blue dress shirt, and a navy blue necktie. Just like the spies from his Pa’s old movies he often dreamt about.

“Yuu-chan!” He could no longer contain his excitement, jumping on the back of the man when he was an arm length away. But Yuu quickly turned around, reached for his wrist, effortlessly twisting it in a quick, practiced movement. Tanjirou didn’t manage to introduce himself because his wrist hurt and was twisted in a very awkward way, he thought he might snap it any second. “Ow, ow, ow, ow! It’s me, Yuu-chan! It’s me! Ow!”

As quick as Yuu grabbed him, the man immediately let him go once recognition dawned on his face. “Tiny human?”

“Wow, you remembered me!” Tanjirou beamed, the same wide smile he wore the first time he met Yuu. He almost forgot about those periwinkle eyes and snow white skin as he tried to bury the memory of the day when Nishida-san succumbed to lung cancer. “I almost thought you weren’t real, like a story of make believe I came up with in a desperate attempt to make friends.” Yuu-chan looked away, and Tanjirou wished he could read whatever was on the man’s mind. “It’s been seven years, Yuu-chan.”

“I owe you no explanation, tiny human.” Yuu-chan continued to look away, his blue eyes never meeting Tanjirou’s burgundy ones. “I never agreed to being friends.”

“But you remembered me, big human.”

Yuu-chan flinched. “My work involves a lot of names, and a mistake would result in grave consequences.” The man tucked his book in his arm again, turning around to walk away. “Go home and stop following me.”

“You sound like you’re just making excuses!” Tanjirou continued to annoy the man, hoping to make him talk more because his voice was somehow calming. He didn’t know where the boldness came from, but before he could think, he reached for Yuu’s hands, cold as ever, and pulled him towards the empty bus stop across the street. It should have been strange, with the absence of people on the street and the silence in the air, but Tanjirou didn’t notice. “Come with me! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“What are you doing?” Yuu-chan gently freed his arm from Tanjirou, keeping it inside the pockets of his pants this time. “This is dangerous. Please keep your distance.”

“Why do you talk so formally, Yuu-chan? Come sit beside me!”

Tanjirou watched as the man glared at the innocent bench, burning holes in it as he considered his options. All the while Tanjirou’s wide grin never wavered, choosing to observe quietly as Yuu-chan argues with himself. The man looked like he never aged at all, like the past seven years were merely a week for him.

“You won’t stop until I indulge you, would you?”

“Nope!” Tanjirou bounced in his seat, grinning triumphantly.

“Fine.” Yuu-chan finally took a seat, a meter away from him. “But you shall not cross this distance.”

“What? Why? I’m not sick!” Tanjirou whined but immediately shut his mouth when Yuu glared at him. There was no hostility, but Yuu-chan has the ability to disappear from his sight, like how he did the past years, so Tanjirou chose not to push his luck further and truly anger the man. “Alright, no need to kill me with you eyes. Very pretty eyes I must say.”

Tanjirou’s throat tightened, and if he was standing, his knees would have buckled from the intensity of Yuu’s eyes. At first he thought the man didn’t like praises, didn’t like talking to him, but he continued staring. Tanjirou, unsure on what to do, chose not to meet Yuu’s eyes as he tried his best not to crumble because the weight of his stare makes the burgundy-haired boy melt.

To his surprise, Yuu, who was so adamant to observe distance, pushed against the metal bench and stood in front of him. Tanjirou raised his head to look at him, but Yuu-chan’s cold fingers brushed against his forehead. Chilly wind blew past them, causing strands of burgundy hairs to fall, but the cold fingers were there to brush them back up. Tanjirou couldn’t help but shiver, due to the wind or the cold skin, he couldn’t tell.

“Is there something wrong?” He managed to ask even when the chill he felt crept up from his lungs to his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.

“This,” Yuu ran the pad of his thumb over the mark, twice, before tracing the outlines. “Was this always here? I didn’t – “ He stammered, as if he couldn’t make a sentence out of his train of thought. “ – seven years ago – “

“Oh, this?” Tanjirou instinctively reached up, not expecting a cold hand meeting his own where his sturdy forehead should be. “It had been there as far as I can remember. It just got bigger as I grew older. Seven years ago, it was just this tiiiiiiny thing, you could have mistaken it for a scar.”

He heard the blue-eyed man, who was acting so strange that day, mumbled something under his breath. It was so soft, Tanjirou could have heard three different languages, because even when there were no cars, no people around, he still didn’t understand the incoherence mumbling. Tough luck, for he has lost his gift of keen nose after turning ten, so he has absolutely no idea what this strangeness was all about.

“Does it hurt?” he heard Yuu-chan ask as he pulled his cold fingers away. But he didn’t step back to create a meter of distance again, much to Tanjirou’s delight. “Does it bother you?”

“Not really, no,” he bit his lip, recalling a stupid myth Zenitsu recounted once when they were nine. “They said birthmarks were signs of how a person died in his past life, but that just sounds silly to me.”

Tanjirou looked up, hoping to see Yuu share his opinion about the absurdity of the myth. But he only saw anxious eyes which couldn’t meet his, lips flattened into a straight line, brows furrowed. “Sometimes, old stories passed down with words of mouth would hide a truth or two.”

“Are you telling me - ” Tanjirou’s voice climbed a pitch higher, trying to suppress his laughter after considering that he had a life before this. “ – that I died from a blunt force trauma to the head in my past life? Was I murdered?”

“Don’t be silly,” Tanjirou wanted to scoff because Yuu-chan dared call him silly when he was just spouting nonsense about old stories and hidden truths a minute ago. “Besides, is that your only birthmark?”

Immediately Tanjirou crossed arms over his chest, balling the shirt he wore with his hidden palms. He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t spooked at Yuu-chan’s question, because he sounded like an honestly curious man, but his instinct pushed him to cross his arms over his chest where a different set of marks hide. “How did you know about that?”

“Know about what?” Yuu asked back, and Tanjirou couldn’t determine if he was feigning ignorance. “I was just asking.”

Tanjirou gulped the knot on his throat, suddenly feeling stupid about his fascination with his own birthmarks. Science has explanations for these, there must be, so he shouldn’t be bothered by Yuu-chan’s vagueness or Zenitsu’s old stories. He was about to ask the man where he went and why he didn’t see him again, but Yuu was suddenly flipping a page of the book he was carrying over and over again. “What are you doing, Yuu-chan? Looking for something?” Tanjirou tried to peek at the pages, but Yuu-chan pivoted his body around to keep the book out of his sight. “I can help?”

“This is strange.” Yuu flipped the page again like he was trying to see if flipping back and forth would make a change to what was already written in the book. Tanjirou wanted to laugh at Yuu-chan’s endless turning of the page, but the man seemed troubled. “How did this happen?”

“How did what happen?” He was never proud of his nosiness, but it was harmless, he thought. He just wanted to help and stop Yuu-chan from tearing the poor page out of the book. The same book, with three blue lines spreading out horizontally, he was carrying back then.

“I was here to collect, ” Yuu shut the book close, tucking it under his arm once again. “But it seemed I was mistaken. I need to go.”

Collect? Like Nishida-san? Tanjirou wanted to ask, but such things weren’t easy to explain, and he wasn’t even sure he was ready to accept Yuu-chan’s secret, if there is one. He chose not to define who Yuu is, all that matters is that he was there again, talking to him, no longer ignoring him.

Tanjirou knew Yuu was going to disappear again. To where, he had no idea, but at least now, he was sure Yuu wasn’t just a part of his imagination. He felt him, his cold touch, his intense stare. Yet he couldn’t help but feel lonely for no reason at all. “Will I see you again?”

“Perhaps,” was Yuu-chan’s answer which offered no comfort to the boy. Perhaps could mean another seven years, or never again. Perhaps isn’t a guaranteed yes, sounding more like a gentle no. “These meetings wouldn’t benefit the both of us, and could put you in danger. Think of it as breaking the law, tiny human.”

Because more spies will be watching. This he knew, after seeing crisps suits blending in the crowds, peach hair and platinum, purple and aqua eyes. Yet he pulled Yuu to an embrace, burying his face on the folds of his three piece suit. “I stopped dreaming about you. For reasons unknown to me, I kept seeing you in my dreams when I’m running a fever. But when you disappeared, the dreams went away too.”

Yuu removed his arms around his waist, Tanjirou already missing the coldness that seemed to come from every part of Yuu’s skin. He couldn’t read his expression again, but he didn’t expect anything more from the strange man. He speaks vaguely, dresses the same, never aged, so his expressionless face was the least of Tanjirou’s concerns.

“Stay healthy, tiny human.”

Tanjirou snorted at Yuu’s choice of response, turning back to where he left his bike at the konbini. He didn’t want to say goodbye, even when he knew that perhaps he wouldn’t see Yuu-chan again. So he continued walking even when he didn’t hear the man move from his place, because he has his hungry friends waiting for him.

He looked back, hoping to see Yuu watching him leave and walk away.

But like how he disappeared seven years ago, the man was suddenly gone, like he wasn’t even there a minute ago.

He rode his bike back to Zenitsu’s home in a bleary state. Thanks to the numerous trips he made to his blond friend’s house, he found his way even when he didn’t even remember pedalling. He couldn’t feel his legs, his head buzzed, his fingers numb. He recalled grandpa Jigoro asking him what’s wrong and why he looked so pale, before seeing Inosuke’s worried face rushing to him as he slumped against the nearest wall.

He black out a moment after that.

-

I kept seeing you in my dreams when I’m running a fever.

“That’s not it,” Giyuu sighed, finding it hard to breathe as he watched Tanjirou stumble out of his bike, pushing the gate of his friend’s house with all his strength. That was his fault, for he couldn’t help himself, even when he promised not to bring harm to the beautiful soul again. “It was the other way around. You get fevers because of your dreams.”

“Who are you talking to?” came a voice behind him, but Giyuu didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Instead, he walked towards the gate of Kuwajima Jigoro’s humble home. He pushed it open, stepping into the other side where his office was. Sabito came in after him, shutting the metal door. “You were supposed to collect a soul today, Giyuu.”

“Who are you, my assistant? So what’s my next schedule?” Giyuu dragged a chair to the table in the middle of the wide room, the only furniture present. His office, much like the others in his line of work, was a high-ceiling room, with a tiled countertop where he prepares teas, coffees, sometimes even sodas, for the souls he brings to the Choosing.

Sabito hauled a tea bag at him, hitting Giyuu on his head, flakes of the dried leaves scattering in his suit. “I wish your brain was sharper than your tongue!”

Giyuu clicked said tongue, wanting to agree because he admits his earlier actions were not well thought out. How could he let a human touch him? How could he not say no, only because those burgundy eyes kept haunting him?

“Kuwajima Jigoro should have died today.” Giyuu pressed his fingers between his eyes, already feeling the early signs of migraine, still wondering what and how it happened because he wasn’t mistaken; he never made mistakes in his job. “I saw his name. It was cardiac arrest.”

“Were you on time?”

He shouldn’t be answering such silly questions. “You know I was never late, Sabito.”

“Were you,” His peach-haired friend sipped on the tea he brewed, holding Giyuu’s periwinkle eyes in an intense stare. “on time, Giyuu?”

Okay, so there was no use lying, and he sincerely believed the slight delay couldn’t hinder death that was already written in the book. He would be guilty if Kuwajima Jigoro’s name was there and that death had simply taken a detour due to his tardiness, but the name was completely gone. Erased, with no sign that it was there before Giyuu left his office, which it definitely was. “I may have been late by a couple of minutes. But it shouldn’t matter because the time of death is absolute even when no collector is present to – “

Sudden realization dawned on Sabito’s face that he was momentarily stuck with his jaw dropping to the floor, and a look of complete disbelief in his eyes. “You talked to a human again, did you? What were you thinking? Were you even using your head like you’re supposed to?”

“He jumped on me from behind! He recognized me-“

“Oh no,” Sabito took the chair opposite him, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He catches his head in his hand, murmuring curses at Giyuu’s stupidity. “It was the same human back then. The human with the gift of Sight. Oh no.”

Giyuu nodded, feeling incredibly frustrated with his inability to follow the rules. “Seven years ago.”

“That was already seven years ago? Yet he still remembered you?”

Giyuu nodded once again, not finding the words to defend himself from Sabito’s unabashed judgment. He couldn’t blame his friend and fellow collector for reacting the way he did, because they weren’t Divines with blessed holiness, nor humans with free will. They were just reapers, tasked to guide souls to the afterlife where they could exercise their freedom to choose one last time and help them decide what they want their fate to be.

He wasn’t human, therefore he doesn’t have the same freedom.

Even if he wanted to see Burgundy Eyes again, not only on the times he was dying, he simply couldn’t choose to do what he wanted.

The clanking of the Sabito’s teacup on the saucer shook Giyuu out of his silent dilemma. His peach-haired friend frowned, the scar on his face more prominent as he pursed his lips in frustration. He once asked the man about his facial scar, which they both agreed seemed to be a birthmark, but Sabito couldn’t recall how and when he acquired it.

“You can’t keep doing this, Giyuu.” Sabito sighed, tracing the patterned yellow and green lines of his own book sitting on the table. “We didn’t know, we may never know, how our presence affects living souls. I’m sure you’ve heard of the myths.”

“I have, but they’re just myths.” Like those about birthmarks, and Giyuu suddenly found himself with the realization that if the myths of men were real, then there’s a chance the myths of the reapers of the old were real too. “No,” he hunched over the table, burying his face in his folded arms. “I messed up. What if – “ Giyuu raised his head, the frantic look in those periwinkle eyes making Sabito flinched. “What if Kuwajima Jigoro’s death took a turn and – “

Sabito reached for his head, shaking it vigorously in an attempt to rattle his brain. Giyuu groaned at the harshness, but was thankful for the distraction. “Don’t think too much of it, Giyuu. If something was indeed wrong, you should have heard from Yorichii-san by now.”

“I swear the name was there!” Giyuu flipped his book open again, trying so hard to prove he was simply mistaken so he could step out of his door to collect the soul. But he couldn’t find the name, couldn’t find the reason why it would just disappear when death was something no one could hinder. Not even the Divines could defy death if They deemed it to be the right time to take back the gift of life They bestowed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Tan – “

“Don’t speak of his name!” Sabito abruptly stood, his chair tripping over. His booming shriek effectively stopped Giyuu’s string of apologies. “Don’t make another mistake, Giyuu. Remember who we are, and what we bring. Don’t.”

Giyuu understood, for there is a reason souls should only see them after passing.

There is a reason he should never let Tanjirou see him again.

For he brings nothing but death.

-

Tanjirou should have known.

He tried to whisper, sometimes in his pillow before he sleeps, a wish to see Yuu in his dreams again. But he never had bad fevers again, never got the chance to see the man turn his nightmares into sweet stupor.

He tried to whisper, against the glass pane of the train as it whirred and swayed, words of intercession and petition, begging for a chance to see Yuu once again.

He tried to whisper his name, trying to call for him to come and explain, to let him know that he doesn’t care what he is, to finally understand why he can’t get Yuu out of his system, even after trying to make himself believe the man with the sky in his eyes isn’t real. He wanted to ask him why it felt like Yuu knew him longer than he should have, the same way he felt strangely familiar even when he only met him twice.

Tanjirou should have known that perhaps meant an empty promise, a parting word disguised as an assurance that he will see Yuu again.

For after he touched him with his cold fingers and reached for the scars he was born with, he never saw Yuu again.

[deadly-departed]

Hello! I thought of this request while I was in online class lmao. Ok so how about a yandere scenario with Hanako, Tsukasa and Teru seeing their darling s/o trying to escape from them??

Oh hell yes! We love yandere Tsukasa in this household- like, please, I would let him yoink me and throw me into his boundary. I'm such a simp istg

Hanako-Kun The Bathroom Ghost, Wonder No. 7

You had escaped, neither your nor him know exactly how you got out but you did

And now, you were hiding, hoping that he would eventually give up on looking for you and then you could finally get out of this cursed school.

But you forgot one thing

Unlike you and your human friends, ghosts don't need to sleep.

So while you were hiding in your little storage closet, trying your hardest not to doze off because of the lack of sleep you'd had in Hanako's grasp, the apparition was searching the school from top to bottom.

And after he recruited a handful of Mokke, he had found you, sound asleep on the floor.

He couldn't help but laugh at how weak you looked when asleep, it was adorable!

He watched you for a moment, your chest rising and falling softly as you breathe

Hanako thought of all the things he could do to you, but of course he doesn't do anything! Because that's wrong and he doesn't want you to hate him!

But he does pick you up, making sure not to wake you as he carries you back to your little prison.

Once you woke up, the first thing you saw were Hanako's sad eyes looking at you.

"Moon, why did you try to escape? I thought you loved me." Hanako asks, hurt glossing his amber eyes.

You look away from him. You are not letting him guilt trip you. You know that's what he's trying to do, he's done it before.

"I hate it here." You mumble, watching the Mokke stack themselves into a small pyramid.

Hanako felt himself about to cry, his vision blurring as he tries to come up with an excuse for you.

You were just tired! Yeah, that's it! He's been keeping you up for days on end because he forgot that humans need sleep!

"Moon, just get some rest, that's all you need. You're tired." Hanako says, smiling softly at you.

"I don't need sleep! I need you to let me go!" You cry out, tugging at the chains on your arm.

You were always so difficult. You were never satisfied with anything that Hanako did for you.

"Tell me what I'm doing wrong." Hanako says, grasping your hands in his cold ones.

"Tell me how to make you happy and hoe to get you to smile! I want us to be together! Please!" As he begged, his grip on your hands subconsciously became tighter.

"Tell me why you hate me so much!"

His grip was unbearable.

"Ha-hanako, you're hurting me...!" You whimpering out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

Hanako's eyes widen and he immediately let's go, his hands moving quickly to his chest.

"I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry..." He kept mumbling apologies as he basically ran out of the room, leaving you tied up with nothing other then the Mokke to keep you company.

Tsukasa Yugi, The Rumor Spreader

Sakura was bound to Tsukasa. She had to do what he said even if it pained her. That was why she took care of you so often.

Tsukasa told her to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn't escape. She hated it, taking care of you.

Not that she hated you or having to take care of another person! She liked you, but she hated the events that lead up to your meeting.

And after months of worrying for your safety, she finally had enough and decided to help you escape.

"Please, just be quiet, I'll get in a lot of trouble for doing this. I just can't stand seeing you suffer anymore." She states quietly as she takes you out of the Boundary.

You two were so close, you could see the front doors.

Yet as soon as you were close enough to open them, you heard an all too familiar laugh behind you.

Both yours and Sakura's eyes widen as your blood runs cold. You knew who it was, you had no need to turn around, especially with the arms and legs wrapping around your shaking form.

"Where do you think you're going?" Tsukasa whispers into your ear, giggling softly.

You shook more as you felt him lick the shell of you're ear.

"Well?" He smirks, before looking to Sakura.

"Take them back to the boundary. Now." He says, his eyes darkening.

Sakura looks down at the ground before nodding, grabbing your wrist tightly before walking back into the depths of the school. "I'm really sorry, you know I don't want to do this." She mumbles

Back in the boundary, Sakura cuffed you back down to your chair before backing away from you.

Tsukasa held a sharp knife, the sadistically cute smile grazing his lips as he looked at you with darkened eyes.

Though you prayed that this was an empty threat of harm, it seemed all too real to be fake.

"Why'd you try to escape? Do you not like it here?" He asked, a mocking innocence threading his voice as he helped you and brought his pointer finger up to his bottom lip. "Amane said that people like being taken care of by their partners. And Amane never lies!"

"You're not taking care of me." You whimper as you watch the apparition play with the knife in his hands.

"Yes I am." He says, smiling at you before turning his attention away from you. "That's not the big problem though." He states as he stares at Sakura. "You helped them escape. You can't disobey what I say!" He yells like a child, throwing the knife at her, missing her face by a few inches.

Sakura stood there, her normally blank expression showing clear fear as her form shook.

Tsukasa then once again turns back to you, a big smile on his face.

"You made me so scared! I thought someone was gonna hurt you or try to take you away from me!" He cries out as he glomps you, wrapping his limbs around your body in a tight hug.

"I need to make sure that everyone knows you're mine!" Tsukasa exclaims happy as he opens his mouth and bites down on your neck harshly enough to draw blood.

You scream out in pain, tears pricking your eyes as you writhe underneath the boy.

Sakura turned away and covered her ears, wanting to cry herself.

"You need to learn your lesson!" Tsukasa chimes, smiling happily as a bit of blood trailed down the corner of his mouth.

Teru Minamoto, The School Prince

He'd be upset, not only at you, but at himself and anyone who tried to help you.

He'd punish you and threaten the helpers.

Kou sighs, scratching at the back or his head as he looks at the mess he'd made in the living room.

Where has Tiara's Mokke gone? He's looked around the entire house and couldn't find it.

As one last resort, he walked to the basement door. Yes, Teru told him not to go in there, but it was for their sister, he would understand, right?

He grabs the cold handle, pulling the door open. Kou looks down at the dark stairs.

He pulls out his phone, turning on the flashlight before descending the staircase, keeping the light on steps so that he wouldn't slip.

You looked at the Minamoto, refusing to make any noise. Hoping that he wasn't here for you

You watched as he first went to the other half of the basement, shining his phone light in some boxes and digging around a bit before moving to the next.

"Not here either where could it have gone? It's not like it could ha-" Kou's eyes widen as he turns around, his flashlight illuminating the other side of the room, and thus you.

"Wh-what are you doing in our basement?" Kou asks, trying to sound brave as he looks at you.

"I... Um..." You tried to this k of something, anything to say that wouldn't make you sound weird.

But you also count say that his brother kidnapped you, what would Kou think?

"It's not what you think," You say, panicked.

"That doesn't answer my question." He says, taking steps closer to your shaking frame.

"What are you doing in my house?" He asks, a slightly more demanding tone in his voice.

You curl up into a ball, your kneed to your chest and covering your head, causing the chains on your ankle and wrist to rattle loudly, shining them in the light.

"Pl-please don't hurt me." You beg, shaking more.

Teru never hurt you, of course not, but you were always so scared that he would.

Kou's eyes widen as he looks at you and the chains tethering you to the bed and wall. "Why are..." He stops himself, only walking closer to you to get a better look at the cuffs.

"How long have you been down here...?" Kou questions, setting his phone down on the bed, the light illuminating the ceiling.

You life your head up slightly, taken slightly aback by how close he suddenly was.

"...A few months maybe? I have nothing to tell time with other than Teru coming in to say good morning before he goes to school and goodnight." You mumble looking down at the bed, slipping your arms under your knees and hugging your thighs closer to you.

"Teru-nii? What do you mean? Never mind, I need to get you out of here, what's you're name?" He asks, looking for a way to get the cuff off your ankle.

"Uh.. Y/N. I'm a third year." You state, watching him analysis the cuff.

You watch Kou, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you'd be able to escape this hell hole.

That is until you hear someone clear their throat at the top of the basement stairs.

You freeze, eyes widening as you refuse to look up, knowing exactly who it is.

Teru sighs as he walks down the steps, shaking his head softly.

He looked at the scene unfolding in front of him, his dear little brother had found his darling, who happened to be locked in the basement.

"T-Teru-nii, why is Y/N-Senpai in our basement?" Kou asked, his voice changing slightly.

"Better question," Teru starts, his eyes glaring daggers into his brother. "Why are you in here? I told both you and Tiara not to go in here, didn't I?"

Kou's eyes widen slightly as he stood up right.

"Well, yeah but-" Kou starts.

"Then why are you here. And why are you trying to help them escape? They're here for a reason Kou." Teru states, crossing his arms as he stands in front of his brother.

"I knew I couldn't trust you with something like this." Teru mumbles as he turns his attention to his darling, still unmoving in the bed.

"Darling, are you alright? Did kou do anything to you?" He asks, kneeling down next to you.

"Get away from them!" Kou shouts, causing you to jump.

Teru stands up straight again, looking over to his brother as his eyes darken. "Kou, you have no idea what I'm doing. They're here because they need to be protected, they need someone to look after them. And I'm that person, I love them and they love me."

Kou looks up at his brother, slight fear glossing over his eyes as he does so.

You felt useless. Like a toy that two toddlers were fighting over. You were powerless.

"T-teru please, leave him alone... He doesn't understand." You say quietly, trying to calm your captor down.

The older Minamoto looks over at you, a small smile gracing his lips. "Darling I know, but he's getting in the way."

Kou looks at you, shock evident on his face. "Senpai, are you really taking his side on this? He kidnapped you!" Kou stresses.

"He did it for my own good." You fake a smile as you look at Kou, ready to break down.

"Now, Kou. Leave the basement, never come back down here and never tell anyone what you saw here." Teru orders.

Kou sighs, his head dropping as he grabs his phone and slowly makes his way back upstairs.

Teru turns once again to you. "Now, for you."

"How should I punish you? Isolation? Sleep deprivation?" Teru chuckles, thinking of all the things he could do.

"I think sleep deprivation sound suitable, don't you?"

[burnedbyshoto]

Attraction

Kinktober Day 27 ~ kink: rivalry

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: smut, cussing, alcohol mention, college!au

word count: 11,000

a/n: I went.... plus ultra on this... I wrote it all day and I think its amazing. if you’re concerned I even made a literal summary of what it is. by all means you can read most of this even if you don’t like smut!!!

Synopsis: You and Shouto have to work with each other on a psychology project. A psychology project on attraction. The hard thing about this of course is that the two of you hate each other. 

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Being a doctor was the biggest dream you’ve had since high school. You wanted to take care of people, improve their physical and emotional wellbeing. A doctor was your everyday hero and you wanted to be that.

When university applications began during high school, you submitted an application to the best school in Japan.

Yuuei University.

They were now known for their very low acceptance rate, it's high retention and graduation rates! As well as most graduates becoming the most successful individuals in their field! It was no question that you applied there!

When you got in, your family and you had celebrated for an entire week. It was extraordinary.

Of course, Yuuei was a rigorous university. You spent days and nights studying. Even the weekends weren’t filled with partying due to the nature of your classes. As a Biochemistry Major, you had a lot on your plate. All while taking the needed courses as well as the pre-req classes for medical school. You were always at the top of your game.

So when you were selecting classes for the second semester of your third year, it shocked you to hear that four more units of a psychology class were needed. A class needed to complete the core requirements that the university held.

So you sat in your advisor's office. Your eyes looked at the different courses offered for psychology. All the weird ones were for the second semester. You had first pick still, given that you had so many credits and were now an upperclassman.

“Is there anything in psychology dealing with physiological or neurological issues?” You asked, only seeing Abnormal Psychology which you’d already taken.

Your advisor looked up at you, his tired eyes bloodshot as he skimmed the course list. Aizawa had been your advisor since you were admitted. You came in already declared as a Biochemistry major and had stuck with your decision all this time.

“There’s a 400 level class called Psychology and the Brain,” Aizawa told you, moving his computer screen for you to look at. “It looks like you met the requirements to take the class, and it’s the only class close to what you want.”

You nod your head as you type out the class on your phone.

“It meets twice a week, Tuesday and Thursday for two hours,” Aizawa tells you as you nod. All of your other classes were on other days. It worked within your schedule.

“That sounds good!” You chirp standing up, slinging your backpack over your shoulder you sigh. “You’ll let me know if I have any of the same classes as him?”

“No can do, you two have the same major. You need to get over this childish rivalry.” Aizawa deadpans as your nose wrinkles.

“Fine.” You moan as you wave goodbye, your pace quickening so you wouldn’t miss your one p.m. lecture.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

The Next Semester

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Your eyes widened as you stepped into the Psychology lecture. It was a bigger class then you were expecting. With a total of what you were guessing to be already sixty people in the class, your eyes locked onto your friends.

“Y/l/n!”

“Hi, Mina.” You smile as you walk over towards the empty seat next to your best friend.

“I can’t believe I’m taking this class!” She gushes as you sit down next to her, your fingers pulling out your laptop in preparation for the class. “I wasn’t going to take this class at all, but then you told me you were taking it! I also heard that this is a huge partner-based class, so if we get paired up together it’ll be super fun!”

You nod your head in agreement as the pink-haired girl rambles off. She speaks excitedly about what this new semester was going to bring! About how excited she was for the final year next year! While she was speaking to you, your eyes took a better sweep of the room.

There were a lot of people you recognized! You’d taken classes with many of these individuals before. It was for general biology, general chemistry, and the abnormal psychology class. You smiled and a warm feeling spread in your chest seeing that the one person you didn’t want here wasn’t here.

“Did you hear that Yao-momo is going on a date?” Mina asks you, and your eyes widen.

“What! No?! With who?!” Your jaw is on the floor as Mina catches you up to speed.

During your freshman orientation, you were then placed into a group of twenty kids. Under the name of Group 1-A, the twenty of you became very close friends! To this day, you were all very close! That is, except for you and him.

Well, he wasn't close to anyone except ten people.

Your eyes snapped towards the front of the lecture hall as Professor Midnight walked in. Multiple binders in her hands as she tossed them onto the table by the podium.

Professor Midnight was a blessing to your school, in your opinion at least. She was incredibly intelligent and was very open about her sex life. Midnight was funny and entertaining. It made you wish at times that you were a psychology major just so that you could have more classes with her. Midnight believed that being open with your sexual identity and things alike were important.

“Alright!” Midnight shouted towards the class and everyone quieted down. “The syllabus is on the website, make sure to read it! We have a lot to cover and not enough time so without further adieu, let’s get—“

The doors opened.

Your eyes looked back and your previous excitement died in your chest as you saw who walked in. Tall and serious, with a pair of black joggers and a black t-shirt he sat down near the front of the class.

A short giggle was heard from Mina who nudged you. You had to restrain the frustrated groan at the back of your throat as you rubbed your throbbing temples.

Why?

Why must this always happen?

“Todoroki-san, thank you for being on time for the first lecture.” Midnight jokes with no malice as she turns her attention back to what she was saying.

Your eyes wander toward the two-tone-haired man. Your fingers drum against the desk as you exhale, why was this always happening?

“As you may or may not have heard already, this class is a major project class. There is minimal lecturing, only presentations that will be conducted based on your topic. The final is a paper and formal presentation to be done with your partner.” You felt Mina nudge you with her elbow and you glanced at her and grinned. “That being said, I have already created said partners for you.”

Your smile fell off your face as Midnight connected her laptop to the projector.

“This list was created at random, so no, I do not care if you want to trade or switch partners. You don’t get that option. Please find your name and partner and sit next to each other. We will begin with your first assignment after you’re paired up.”

The list flashed onto the screen, and your eyes scour the list in search of your name.

Please just let it be someone good…

“Oh,” Mina exclaims, her hands on her face as she grins. “I’m with Aoyama!”

“Aoyama’s in the class?!” You ask looking around for your favorite blond.

“I guess so, but I need to go find him now! Good luck!” Mina cries as she grabs her things and looks around.

Your frown increases as your eyes continue down the list.

Y/l/n y/n.

Y/l/n y/n.

Y/l/n—

Your breathing stops in your throat as you find your name near the bottom.

Todoroki Shouto, Y/l/n y/n.

Oh no.

Your eyes immediately look over towards Todoroki who’s looking back at you. If this was an anime, the class would have dropped in temperature by fifty degrees by two of your’s icy glares. Both of you didn’t move.

Everyone else was already with their partner, introductions being made if they didn’t already know the other.

But you and Todoroki?

Neither one of you moved.

Your gazes still locked, but your bodies were unmoving. Like hell, you were going to move to the front of the room.

In fact, Todoroki was the only person in the front of the room! You had also decided that you were not moving.

With your gaze never breaking away from his, you point towards the empty seat next to you. Todoroki rolls his eyes, his own finger pointing towards the empty chair next to him.

Both of you refusing to move, and your heart was pounding in your frustration. Why was he such a fucking dick?

“Todoroki, Y/l/n…” Midnight called, her arms folded as her eyes swept between the two of you. Giggles erupt within the class. Oh yes, the hatred and rivalry between the two of you were legendary within the school. “One of you needs to move…”

“I was here on time, professor.” You say never once breaking eye contact with the heterochromatic man. Who the hell did he think he was anyway? Thinking he could act this way because his dad was rich and sort of famous?

“As was I.” Todoroki quirks his eyebrow. “Lecture starts at one thirty-five. It was one thirty-four when I walked in; Midnight was early.”

“Doesn’t change the fact I was here first.” Your lips pressing into a scowl as you crossed your arms.

“Too embarrassed to sit in the front, y/l/n?” Todoroki taunts and your rage spikes.

“Too stupid to pay attention near the back, Todoroki?” You retort.

“Children, children!” Midnight cries, her fingers rubbing her temples. “Let’s compromise! Why don’t you sit in the middle of where you both are.”

You want to say no, but you know what a pain in the ass the two of you are. Still, as you gather your things, the two of you refuse to break eye contact. You walk towards the middle and sit on the aisle seat. The class snickering as Todoroki takes the other aisle seat.

There was no winning in this war.

“...okay, well moving on. Let’s pick your first research project which is due next month!” Midnight exclaims her hands grabbing a jar with folded pieces of paper in it. Seeing that you and Todoroki were in front of everyone else, Midnight approaches you two first. “Who’s pulling?”

Both your and Todoroki’s hands shootout. Your eyes glaring at each other as Todoroki retreats his hand given that you’re closer. You smirked in triumph as you place your hand into the bucket and pull out a piece of paper.

You unfold the paper and read-aloud for the class.

“The Mental and Physiological Effects of Attraction…” Your voice trails off, your body seemingly wilting in on itself as you sigh.

Todoroki’s glare slams onto your face and ooh’s and ahh’s resonate through the class. Your hands rub your face as Midnight giggles leaving the two of you to get to the next pair.

Why were you so out of luck when it came to Todoroki?

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“So, you’ll never guess what!” Mina laughs as she drinks from her bottle of soju.

You roll your eyes as you look over your class notes from the week. After what you would call an average first week back to school, you and your friends were gathered together to study and drink. Was it a bad combination? Yes. Was it fun though? Yes.

“Let me guess!” Hagakure squealed. The medical mask she always wore was on the table, her stack of textbooks and notes on the floor. Hagakure wasn’t one too involved in her studies. “Todoroki-kun and y/n are in all the same classes together!”

Your cheeks flared up in embarrassment and anger as the six girls howled in laughter. “Come on!” You moan as you pouted. The many pages of notes you had been writing were currently being transferred onto a google doc for clarity and memory retention.

Mina nods her head excitedly, ignoring your protests as she rambles. “Not only are they in the same classes, but they’re partners for the entire rest of the semester! Plus they’re writing about attraction!” The girls seem to eat this right up as you try to ignore them.

Momo nudges you with her shoulder, her fingers grabbing at your notebook for the psychology class. “You two can’t get enough of each other, can you?” She teases as she flips through your notebook that was already filled with notes.

“You’d think with all those classes they have together they’d at least be lawful with each other.” Uraraka snorts as she takes a rather big chug from her drink.

“He’s a fucking dick that’s why.” You roll your eyes as you crack your sore wrist. You had finished up your notes for your biochemistry class. Now you would be moving on to starting the paper with Todoroki.

There was a good reason for this paper to take an entire month to be due. It was required to be at least fifty pages with fifteen different resources, and to your belief, it was going to be a pain in the ass to complete.

“I think he’s super hot, too bad he won’t ever give in to my seduction!” Mina sighs and you choke on your water, your eyes flying to your best friend.

“E-Excuse me?!”

“Just because you two want to skin each other doesn’t mean I don't want to.” Mina laughs and you groan.

“Why do you even hate Todoroki-san?” Tsuyu asks, her fingers on her chin in a quizzical fashion. “I thought you two were finally over your pride?”

“OH, I can explain this.” Jirou cackles as leans onto the table. Her musical compositions hidden behind her elbows. “Todoroki and y/n are in the same major! They have the same classes all the time somehow, and have received the same test scores on everything! They share the same ranking in school because of this, and y/n is super salty about it.”

“I am not salty!” You complain, your hands covering your face as the girls laugh at you. “I tried to be fucking nice, but he was a total cunt to me, so I stopped.”

“But Todoroki-san isn’t rude.” Momo defends her longtime friend.

“To you maybe.” You sigh, your fingers grasping the bottle of wine that Momo had been hogging. “I just think there’s no reason for me to be nice to someone who isn’t nice to me.”

“Sounds petty to me!” Uraraka laughs as you kick her shin from under the table. But the girls are too lost in their mirth over this situation that your protests fall on deaf ears. “Watch them get into the same medical school, too!”

You freeze as you look up from your new google doc, “What now?”

“He wants to be a doctor, too.” Jirou sighs, her head leaning against her palm. “This is really old news.”

“Wha--”

“Why do you even dislike Todoroki-kun?” Hagakure asks, her head tilted as she takes a long chug from her drink. “I’ve never understood why.”

“Because he’s arrogant, condescending, his voice is entirely way too annoying! He always rolls his eyes when someone says something wrong but never raises his hand to say the right thing! Then he always has this attitude! For the one philosophy class, I took, did you know he always was on the opposing team just to fight against me? I was never fucking wrong, but he never failed to be on the opposite team just because I was on the other team. Plus, that one time I had my hands full of shit and was trying to go to the elevator -- stop laughing -- he let the doors close before I even got there!” You scowl at your amused friends who were in very much enjoying your rant. “So no, Jirou, it is not because of school-related things!”

“Maybe they just need to fuck to get over whatever’s happening between them.” Mina stage whispers to Uraraka who nods in agreement.

“Come on, what is this high school?” You roll your eyes.

They could only grin as they shouted to each other their ideas as to what was happening between you and Todoroki. There was a knock on your door and you sighed as you pushed away from the table and walked over to the door.

“Who is it?” Tsuyu calls before you can even open the door.

“I don’t know!” You respond as you throw open the door and come face to chest with Todoroki.

A scowl solidifies over your face as you look up at the taller man. “What?” You ask, your arms folding as you lean against the door frame.

“You guys are being loud.” He says, his face in a deadpan.

“Quiet hours aren’t until midnight, and it’s only eleven.”

“I know, but we can still come over and complain.”

“We’ll be quiet at midnight.”

“I’m asking you to be quiet now.”

“You’re the only ones complaining, and I’m sure you and the boys aren’t being quiet yourselves.”

“Midoriya has a headache.” Todoroki narrowed his eyes at your stubborn position.

“Midoriya-kun was over ten minutes ago! He was feeling perfect because he was talking to Uraraka-chan.” You remark, your hands coming out to look at your fingernails.

“Who is it, y/l/n-chan!” Momo calls out this time.

“It’s me,” Todoroki responds as you made no effort to respond to your friend.

Your eyes shut in a grimace at the sounds of scraping chairs. You can hear them walking over. The small yet amused chatter ringing in your ears as you glare up at Todoroki who quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Hey, Todoroki-kun!” Mina exclaims and you watch as your friends all greet your bitter rival.

“You guys are being loud, would you mind being quieter?” Todoroki asks someone in the group, but his eyes are concentrated on yours.

“Oh, yeah! Sorry for being loud.” Jirou responds back for the group, but you roll your eyes as Todoroki smiles in thanks. It’s a smile directed at Jirou but his damn eyes are still on you. A stupid charming smile on a stupid fucking asshole.

“Is that it?” You ask, your nose sticking up into the air, your hand on the door ready to slam it into his face.

“Oh, for the paper. I’ve already started.” Todoroki tells you with a condescending smirk. “I’ll share the document with you, but I don’t expect you to write anything productive or of value onto it.”

“I can write a fucking paper in two minutes that is a trillion times better than you in a whole month.” Your sneer as your grip on the door tightens.

“You look like the type to forget to write your own name on papers, oh wait--”

You slam the door in his face, your ears burning with embarrassment as you refuse to turn around. You don’t want to see your friends faces as your head slams against the wood door.

“You… forget to write your name on your papers?” Momo asks you.

“It’s okay, y/n, I forget all the damn time.” Mina cackles as they drag you back to the kitchen. Despite your best attempts, the girls remained relatively quiet for the rest of the night.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Two Weeks Until the Paper is Due

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You walked into the library. Your fingers were holding onto your cup of tea. Your arms filled with books for your research paper, and your backpack was open. You ignored the looks of pity that followed you as you climbed the staircase of the library.

How was it only two weeks into the semester and you were looking like it was finals week? This was the fucking worst.

On top of your disheveled state, you were late for your meeting with Todoroki. On one hand, you hated being late. You were a punctual student and always arrived before necessary! So there was a part of you that felt bad even if it was Todoroki. But on the other hand, fuck him.

You giggled at that thought as you moved towards the study rooms on the back walls. Your eyes peered into each room. Looking for what seemed like the genetic phenomenon boy himself. You found him in the room furthest away sitting in there with Bakugou who was packing up his own things. Without knocking you walked in, the door slamming against the wall as you did so.

“Fucking hell, y/n/n!” Bakugou hissed as you walked in. “Learn how to open a fucking door correctly!”

Placing the cup of tea onto the table you smiled at the ash-blond who was zipping up his backpack. “Sorry, my hands were full and I don’t know my own strength.” You tease as the blond man pinches your cheeks playfully. “Ow, don’t be an asshole!”

“Respect the laws of the school first.” 

“Don’t become Iida!” You laugh as Bakugou pulls you into a one-armed hug. Oh, how the three years at Yuuei had changed this man.

“Hah? Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou rolls his eyes as he pulls his backpack on. “Alright, I’ll be going, see you guys.” His hand waves as he walks out of the room leaving you and Todoroki in the awkward silence of the room.

You move in silence. Pulling out your notebook, organizing the textbooks you had, and grabbing your laptop.

Todoroki is sitting by the wall, and in a room designed to hold at most ten people, you sat on the chair furthest from him. You pull out the rolling chair and sink in. Your eyes falling on Todoroki finally who was looking less than amused.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“I don’t want to waste my memory data on you.”

“Too bad, you’d finally have something of value on your phone.”

Todoroki rolls his eyes as he leans backward. “You were late though.”

“Oh get your panties out of a twist,” You mumble as you open the shared document between the two of you. “I lost track of time.”

“You said you were on your way thirty minutes ago. You’re five minutes away.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you stare at him, “I’m tired, Todoroki. I went to go get some damn tea and they messed up my order! But since it was the coffee rush hour they couldn’t make my tea right away as they typically do.”

Todoroki glares at you but breaks away from it as you both turn to the paper.

It’s silent outside of your fingers hitting the keyboard. The paper was being written at the very least.

Well, okay, it wasn’t really.

The two of you had fought at three in the morning about how ugly the paper was being written. Yes, your roommates were sick of the two of you when the argument was being fought. The same night he had told you and your roommates to shut up, you went over thirty minutes later to complain about how he was writing the paper. Under the combined powers of Momo, Iida, and Midoriya the two of you agreed to write the paper separately. Later you would join whatever flowed better between the two of your pieces. The prompt was the same after all, and you were both using the same resources.

“I’m playing music.” You announce, putting your Spotify playlist on.

You knew what music Todoroki hated. It took getting your best friends drunk, but you had managed to get a shitload of information on Todoroki. Details surrounding what he liked, but more importantly, what he hated.

You concentrated on the paper in front of you, but the curling grin on your face was unstoppable as you caught him freezing. His eyes snapping over to your hunched figure as I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys played through your speakers.

“I don’t like this song,” Todoroki says, his tone smooth. His hands pressing into the table in what could be an intimidating position.

“Hm, I don’t remember saying I was playing this song for you…” You murmur. You straighten up as you stare at him, your mouth dropping as you shake your head. “Don’t tell me you’re not a fan of pop music? This genre has the greatest artists in the world! Like when people say they like rap or lo-fi they’re insane for ever believing that!”

Todoroki stares at you, his expression unamused as he turns back towards his computer.

Oh yeah, you were both going to murder each other well before this paper was due.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

One Week Before the Paper is Due

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You sat on Todoroki’s bedroom floor.

Your hands shifting through the mountain of books the two of you were in possession of for the paper. The assignment itself was not hard at all. In fact, had you been with a less infuriating partner, you were positive it would have finished already. But for some reason, whenever Todoroki and you made one step forward, you shot back twenty steps.

Today you were working on the assignment in his room for a few varying reasons.

One is that for some reason all the study rooms were being used and the two of you didn’t have time to wait around. Second, being that Uraraka had requested to have the dorm room for four hours. Given that you have all requested to have the place to yourself before, everyone agreed. The third and final reason being that Todoroki’s kitchen and dining areas were now occupied by his roommates.

When the two of you trudged in together, his roommates nearly lost their shit. Kirishima and Iida were the most expressive, and Bakugou had quirked an amused eyebrow. You were a bit confused as to why they all seemed so excited by your arrival with Todoroki of all people. Most people were not so amused when the two of you entered the same room.

“We’re here to write the paper.” Todoroki inputted right away, walking to his room as soon as he could. You rolled your eyes as you went around and said hi to his own roommates-- your friends.

You, uncaring of what Todoroki thought of you, stayed out there and talked with your friends. Todoroki and you were both thirty-seven pages into your separate and yet to be fused paper. Given that you had a whole outline for the next at least thirteen pages, you weren’t in too much of a hurry to run over to his room.

“Y/l/n, really?” Todoroki snaps as you were talking to Kirishima about if he would help you dye your hair one day. You look over at Todoroki who’s changed into sweats and a white t-shirt.

Stupid fucking genetic phenomenon you internally cursed as you smiled at the other boys.

“I guess I gotta go, don’t forget about me.” You depart with a sad smile, Todoroki glaring at you as you pass him in the hallway.

Now, you sat on his floor as he took his bed. Your fingers were typing away as you hummed to the playing music. It was Todoroki’s turn to play the designated music, and you had to admit lo-fi music was extremely catchy.

Your feet tap along with the music as you think of ways to rearrange a sentence you had written.

“What did you get on Aizawa’s test?” Todoroki asked you, ripping your thoughts away from your writing. Your eyes fluttered as you looked at him.

“The test grades are out already?” You asked as you pull out your phone to look at your grades app.

“Just posted,” Todoroki grumbles.

You nod as you look at your result. A swell of pride shoots through you as you nod, “What did you get?” You ask a confident smirk on your face.

“Ninety-seven percent.”

“Fucking hell.” You growl tossing your phone away from you. “Same here…”

Your eyes glue onto your laptop again, and you miss the amused smirk on Todoroki’s face as you continue writing.

“Are you almost done yet?” Todoroki asks you, his eyebrow quirked.

You glance up, your eyes rolling as you scoff. “I’m on page forty-three, what are you on? Twenty?”

“I have fifty pages done.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

Your fingers trace your mousepad. Sure enough, there are ninety-three pages on the single document. Your lips tighten as your eye twitches.

“Well, it’s easier to write when you’re implementing an eighty percent quote paper.” You snark as you return to your pages.

“My paper has the bare minimum amount of quotes, you’re the idiot who can’t keep up.”

You huff your fingers returning to the paper as you typed away. The music kept playing as the two of you remained in silence. You pushed your hair out of your face. You continued looking between what you were writing and what you were needing to put.

“What are you even writing?” Todoroki asks you, his brows furrowing as you type away.

“The paper we’ll be submitting, why?” You ask, your eyes looking over at him before returning back to your screen.

“It’s kind of shit.”

“I bet yours is worse, so shut up.”

“You know, there’s no shame in admitting that you’re not good at writing.”

“There is nothing wrong with my writing!” You sneer as you continue writing, your fingers coming down to hit the keyboard harder. The clattering of the keys echoing in your ears as your heart hammers away.

“Nothing is making sense, it’s a research paper, y/l/n. Why are you trying to make the wording pretty? No one cares how many high-level words are in your vocabulary, be concise and stop being a fucking scholar.”

“Oh yeah, sorry, I forget that words like brain and neurology are too advanced for you.” You gasp as you stare at his unamused eyes. “Oh, let me dumb that down for you. My words too smart for your head.” You pout in mocking sadness as you return to your paper.

You can’t explain it, but your heart feels like it’s cracking as the two of you remain in tense silence as you finish writing.

It takes an hour, but you’re finally done with your fifty pages. You stand up without a single word. Your joints are sore from the uncomfortable floor, but you pack up without a sound. You can feel Todoroki’s eyes following after you as you throw your arms under your backpack and leave. His bedroom door slamming closed as you walk into the hallway.

Six pairs of eyes stare at you as you smile weakly.

“Bye, boys,” you say as you walk out.

This semester was nearly a month in and you were going to have to deal with him for the rest of the semester. Something told you that you were not going to be able to handle Todoroki for much longer.

Yes, you hated him, but you could not fight and argue with him every day of the week. It was just exhausting.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Three Hours Until Paper is Due

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Your eyes trained on Todoroki’s paper.

Your pointer dragging along sentences you hated. Editing basic issues he passed by and leaving comments where you deemed necessary.

“What the fuck was wrong with that sentence?” Todoroki asks, his eye twitching as you were busy typing in a reason why the sentence was wrong.

“Wait for my comments,” you sneer as you press publish.

You continue reading his paper. Your eyes concentrating on yet another sentence that you believed was subpar.

“You hate the entire thing because I didn’t use a semicolon?” Todoroki exclaims, his hand dragging against his face. “Are you fucking sane, y/l/n?”

“Very much so, you’re twenty-one, grow the fuck up.” You roll your eyes as you type up yet another rude comment on his paper.

The two of you had been in a study room together for the entire day. Yes, the entire past sixteen hours the two of you have sat in this room together attempting to fuse this damn paper. So far it was not working.

Since the two of you had edited your works during the week, today was actually supposed to be a fusion day only. The second the two of you began reading over your essay, Todoroki looked at you, his eyebrow twitching.

He had gone on to complain that what you were writing was atrocious. That it was by far one of the worst things he'd have to read in a while. You, not wanting to be talked to like that about your hard work, fought back.

The two of you were now editing every single little word of each other's paper. Nothing passed your eyes as suddenly you both became literary geniuses. Grammar and spelling suddenly making sense to you as you destroyed Todoroki’s paper in your hands. No word went unhighlighted. Comments littered the sides of the paper commenting on truly trivial things. Things that weren’t needed to be said. Things that a psychology professor would not care about in the slightest.

There was nothing productive about your comments. With the ticking time falling through your fingers the two of you should be paying greater attention to what you were doing. But the anger, the uncontrollable rage for what was happening was too large, too grand to be ignored.

The two of you were obsessed with every new comment that was made. Your fingers scrolling to the new comment to yell and argue about how the other one was being childish. It was infuriating and you wanted to leave. Fuck Midnight’s random matching machine, that thing had to be broken if it landed on Todoroki.

“I don’t know why I didn’t fight Midnight on why you were my partner.” You growl as you highlight an entire block text of a quote and wrote in that it seemed fictitious and off-topic. “You’re the most immature person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“Oh please, I have a niece who’s in her terrible twos and behaves better than you do on a good day.” Todoroki jeers his eyes like ice as he glares at you.

“I’ve met a four-year-old who’s able to write more complete sentences than you!” You sass, your elbows on the study room table, your face leaning in towards his. “You either write run-on sentences or a three-word sentence. Did you ever learn about the subject and predicate of a sentence? I would be more than happy to teach you because it’s obvious you weren’t taught!”

“Honestly, it shocks me that you’re even a STEM major. You want to be what? A doctor? Oh please, you have to be actually smart and a team player. But you? I have never seen you once try to be apart of the team. If it’s not your way, it’s no one's way.”

“Aw, you do know things about me.” You coo, but your words are steely. Your nostrils flare as you lean away. “Don’t even fucking start on me with the team playing. I participate in groups, I fucking love group work. Just because I don’t enjoy doing these things with you doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it at all. You’re not the center of my world.”

I’d beg to differ.” Todoroki coldly smirks, his body shifting closer to yours, and you move in too. Your eyes flash down to his lips that are pulled into a disgustingly attractive smirk. His muscles tensing on his arms. “Tell me, y/l/n, what are the different things the body goes through when you’re attracted to someone. It seems like you don’t fucking know this.”

Your eyes narrow, what was this some fucking test? Of course, you knew! You spent an entire fucking month researching it. Your hand moves to wipe a rolling piece of sweat from your temple. When did it get so damn hot in this cold room?

“The main components of being attracted to someone is summed up in the following physiological states. When attracted to someone, eyes dilate. Bodies sweat more. Bodies become in sync, due to mirroring habits people have when they are high on endorphins. Dopamine levels rise as well as serotonin. Dopamine helps regulate movement, attention, learning, and emotional responses. It also enables us not only to see rewards but to take action to move toward them. Since dopamine contributes to feelings of pleasure and satisfaction as part of the reward system. It also plays a part in addiction. Serotonin in the brain is thought to regulate anxiety, happiness, and mood. The more you have the better your mood. It was also seen that the putamen and the insula light up on an MRI. Indicating that the studied person is experiencing feelings of romantic love, or attraction.” You snark this all while staring him in the eyes.

Your body as tensed as his.

Neither one of you moving.

Neither one of you allowing yourselves to breathe heavily.

“You don’t even fucking see it, do you?” Todoroki growls as he leans back.

You lean back as well, your arms folding. His arms fold.

“See what Einstein? That I fucking know what I’m doing despite what you think? Are you fucking kidding me Todoroki? I deserve to fucking be here even if you hate me! Would you for one moment stop being a complete asshole to me and fucking leave me alone? And people fucking wonder why I hate you,” you hiss leaning in.

Todoroki’s hands slam onto the table. You jump taken off guard due to the loud noise, and you feel your breath stop in your throat as he leans in dangerously close. His face is centimeters away from you, his eyes angry and yet convoluted with something else...

Your eyes widen as your jaw drops slightly, did you finally push him over the edge?

You watch as his own eyes widen slightly he chuckles. The sound is deep, running against your skin in a way that sends chills down your spine as his eyes trail your body.

“Your eyes are dilated right now,” Todoroki observes, his voice low and husky. “You're sweating just the slightest bit, don’t think I didn’t catch you wiping it away. Your body has been moving in sync with my own this entire fucking month. I’m sure your dopamine levels are soaring on account to your attention to me, is your heart racing because of me? Are you anxious? I think you are, which means you have a healthy amount of serotonin in your body. The putamen and the insula make the hate circuit more interesting. Both of these areas light up on an MRI when the person is experiencing feelings of romantic love. So, you tell me, y/l/n, do you actually hate me? Or are you attracted to me?”

Your eyes are wide, Todoroki’s soft yet heavy breathing hits your lips as you continue staring at him. The wide and cocky grin on his face is infuriating, yet stupidly hot. Your blood feels like it’s boiling, anger and fury pumping through your veins as you take in his words again. The knowing laughter that slips from his mouth only further incites your swinging emotions.

“That’s what I thought.” Todoroki determined as he moved to sit back down.

Now you were no idiot. But what you did next was fucking dumb.

Your fingers lashed out, fisting into the collar of his shirt and slammed your lips into a searing kiss against his own.

The windows had been drawn earlier on account of your noisy roommates and friends taking pictures of the two of you fighting. The door was also locked due to that fact, and you were planning on using that to your advantage.

Your lips pressed against his, hot and heavy movements as you pressed further into him. Uncaring, unconcerned about his reaction.

Todoroki groaned softly, his lips moving to keep up with yours. His fingers digging into your biceps as the two of you stood up, leaning over the table as your lips continued this passion-filled battle.

His lips are fervent against yours and your mind spins from having his mouth against yours. Where you really all this time just attracted to him but refused to admit it to yourself? Todoroki’s hands move from your biceps to searching the table, your eyes barely manage to open. They’re heavy with lust, laced with growing desire as your lips part. The books and laptops are taken off the table, leaving the table meant for four students empty and clear. As you come back up from placing your laptop down, Todoroki’s warm hands feel like fire against your heated skin. And you let him pull your face in for another impassioned kiss.

His lips are heavy against yours, pushing and pulling you in with every movement of his lips. He continues pulling you closer and soon enough you’re climbing on top of the table, pants leaving your mouth from the high position of the table as you crawl closer to the boy who was making your heart beat faster than any strenuous activity. As you move closer, his hand runs from your face to rest against your ass. His hands are strong against your ass, and he pulls you nearer so that you’re sitting on the edge of the table, his body between your open legs.

You’re gasping now, sharp breathing as you try to calm your nerves. This man set your mind on fire, and you were drowning in his lips. His mouth dissipating all the anger and hatred you held in mere seconds. Your mouth opens and your tongue swipes at his bottom lip, pleading for entry. Todoroki moves his hands from your ass, trailing down your legs to pull you closer to him, and his mouth opens granting you entry.

Tongues crash together in the middle. Dominance riding high on both of your parts, neither one of you wants to let the other into each other's mouth. But lord, is his tongue working magic against yours. Your body shuddering as your legs wrap against his waist, your crotch pushing forward to grind into his pelvis. His budge is obvious against your clothed core and both of your moans tumble into your mouths.

His hands trail under your shirt and you arch against his chest, and in your moment of serenity, his tongue is able to push into your mouth. You shudder in his hold, his tongue tracing around your mouth in a way that makes your eyes roll back. His tongue runs against your tongue, swirling around it before tracing the roof of your mouth. A moan expels from your mouth as his other hand slips under your shirt. Todoroki laughs, his voice falling on his tongue and you tremble softly.

What the fuck was wrong with you? Making out with Todoroki Shouto in the library study room? There must be something in the air.

Todoroki’s mouth left yours completely, his hot mouth trailing down your neck. His teeth nipping at your skin, his lips sucking against your skin. Your head tosses back in increasing pleasure as your hips press against his bulge again. His mouth stays on the same spot, his mouth sucking harshly against your skin, his teeth biting down sinfully against your skin.

Your arms wrap around his body, pulling him desperately closer to you. The friction not enough, these actions not strong enough for you. “Don’t be a pussy about fucking me.” You can’t keep yourself from stating as Todoroki pulls away from your neck. Your skin throbs from the hickey that has for sure formed.

“Don’t worry,” Todoroki smirks as he lifts your shirt over your head, “I won’t.”

You suck in a sharp breath of air as the cold air hits your exposed body. You feel dirty for wanting to fuck Todoroki. You feel disgusting and delirious for wanting him to claim you right in an often-used library study room. You don’t have time to think anymore as his lips come back to claim your lips. This time, you’re not going to give in as your teeth sink into his bruised lower lip.

The harsh motion of your teeth sinking into his plump and used lips makes him moan. The sound is electrifying to your ears. Your tongue slides back out to soothe over his throbbing lip. Your grin spreading across your face as Todoroki picks you up from the table. Your body shudders as your aroused sex brushes up against his hard cock. His hips thrusting up against your own and you cry out in his mouth. Your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip as Todoroki’s mouth trails down your chin. His teeth brushing against your jaw causing your hips to roll out against him.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you bring your mouth against his neck. Your mouth trails peppering kisses against his strained neck, and your hips grind down against his bulge. “Please take your shitty shirt off, Todoroki.” Your groan as your fingers drag against his muscular back. The muscles delicious against your skin, yet you feel denied, you feel teased at the fact you can feel him better.

Todoroki moans as your heavy and hot breathing makes his mind reel against the cold saliva on his neck. “Call me Shouto, y/n, I think we’re past this last name business.” He growls. The simple use of your name sends a heavy shiver down your spine. You never thought you’d hear him call you y/n and Shouto felt like a stranger on your tongue, but you feel coy as you nod.

You push away, your hair whipping over your shoulder as you stare at his blue and gray eyes. You watch his pupils that are blown wide stare into you as you lean in close. The sweat building slowly on his temple as your mouth pressed against his ear softly.

“Of course, Shouto,” you accentuate his name and he groans.

His hands grip tighter against you as his lips come back against yours.

Your hands reach down for the hem of his shirt and you waste no time in tearing it up over his head. His toned body now exposed for your desiring eyes as you breathe shakily. Maybe you were always attracted to him.

You look at him and a proud blush spreads across your face as he stares at your breasts. You were not at all wearing a cute set, they were simple, black and not revealing. But the way Shouto was looking at you. The way his finger trailed up to your covered bra made you believe that you were wearing the best lingerie set in existence. “Do you like this set?” You tease, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip as you look into his eyes under your eyelashes.

“I think I’ve been the world's biggest idiot for denying you for so long.” Shouto groans as his face pushes forward to kiss your breasts. You feel like you’re melting in his arms as his lips ravish your tender breasts.

“Who says -- fuck -- who says I want you?” You gasp as his mouth continues trailing sweet and hot kisses against your skin. “I’m a wanted woman, you know.”

“Like hell, I’m letting you go now,” Shouto grunts his large hands enveloping your breasts as he gropes them. “Don’t pretend you don’t want to be mine.”

You don’t have the chance to respond back as Shouto’s right-hand moves behind your back and removes your bra with one hand. The smooth action somehow turning you further on. The bra is thrown off your body and your breasts bounce as they’re not entirely exposed. You don’t know how to feel bashful or to feel confident in the way that Shouto stares at your exposed chest. His eyes locked on your breasts, his lips dragging against his teeth as he looks back up at you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Shouto groans as his mouth slips your nipple into his mouth. You cry out as your hips roll against his crotch again, and you feel him walking forward.

You whine as Shouto sets your back onto the cold surface of the library table. Your pants heighten as he slips off your sweatpants. The cold air hitting your hot legs making you shudder at the temperature difference.

His fingers roll your free nipple between his fingers. The sensations on your nipples overwhelming as your hips thrash against his. Moans and gasps pour out of your mouth as he continues ravishing your breasts. His teeth nipping and pulling on the sensitive skin. Your head throws back as he pulls away, a resonating pop filling your ears as he lets go of your nipple. Harsh heaves leave your mouth as you look down, your breasts shine with his saliva and you moan again.

“I’m going to fucking eat you out, and you’re going to watch me the entire fucking time,” Shouto commands you, his fingers hooking around your panties. “Do you understand?”

Breathlessly you nod your head. Your eyes locking onto his bi-colored ones as your panties join the rest of your clothes on the floor. Shouto chuckles as his finger drags against your soaked slit, “You’re so fucking wet.” Shouto remarks and your body shudders against his actions. Your eyes flutter closed before you force them back open to peer down at Shouto, “Good girl.” He praises and you feel your pussy throbs at those two words.

Shouto presses a hand against your waist and you watch as he sinks two fingers into your blazing heat. You cry out in pleasure as his heated fingers plunge in and out of you. Your eyes struggle to keep themselves onto his proud form. Your hand slaps across your mouth as his fingers curl within you. Their curvature adding even more stimulating pleasure within your body. Melodious moans are now muffled underneath your hands and Shouto sneers at that.

“Don’t hide what I’m making you feel, y/n.” Shouto snaps. His fingers increasing in their roughness as they pound against your soaked pussy. “Don’t you want the world to know that I’m the one making you feel this way?”

Your hand trembles as you move it away from your mouth, but your teeth subconsciously clamp down onto your bottom lip. You’re embarrassed at being caught in the library. Even though you were attracted to Shouto, you didn’t want to be found in this state.

On a public table, legs wide open, and Shouto’s fingers deep into your pussy.

Shouto, unsatisfied with your quiet affirmations of his actions, slips another finger into your aching pussy. A silent shriek leaves your mouth as you push up off the table. The additional width of his thrusting fingers overwhelming.

“Oh,” Shouto laughs smugly, his smile stretching wide across his face. “Did you like that?”

“Yes, you blind fucking idiot!” You thrash against his fingers, your head falling back in your distracting pleasure. The sensations are numbing your mind. Your rationale slipping away as his fingernails drag against your inner walls. Your cunt feels like it’s pulsating faster than your heart as he continues going.

“Aren’t you just a fucking sweetheart.” Shouto purrs and his hand reaches out to lock in your hair. Your head is roughly brought back up, and a low groan of pain rumbles in your throat as you stare at his slightly furious eyes. “Didn’t I say to fucking look at me?”

Your chest heaves in embarrassment and wounded pride. Like hell, you were being dominated by him.

Before you could try wrestling him for dominance, his mouth lowers towards your dripping cunt. His tongue takes a languid and slow lick. His tongue slipping between your slit and you fall back onto the table. Your eyes fluttering in their battle to stay open. Your eyes still locking onto his victorious face.

Your legs tremble as he thrusts his tongue within your drenched walls. His tongue swirling in circles and thrusting further in. His fingers still thrusting into you as you fall apart on the table. On one lick, one measly irresistibly mind-numbing lick, your legs come crashing against his head. Shouto’s free hand moves to grip onto your trembling thighs. His tongue coaxing your orgasm closer to the edge.

“S-Shouto!” You curse, your hips moving desperately against his mouth. Your hips were unforgiving against his merciless tongue.

Your eyes struggle to remain locked on his eyes, your body twitching with the building pleasure. The electricity igniting in your flesh and bloodstream. You can hear the sounds of your squelching pussy against his moving fingers, and your jaw drops. You’re under his absolute control and you're no longer able to hold back anymore as your orgasm is right on the edge, but then he pulls away. His fingers and tongue disappearing from within you. Causing you to whimper in pain, in lust, and in denied orgasm.

“Suck yourself off my fingers.” Shouto pants as his arousal covered fingers press against your mouth. You take his fingers without a second thought. Your teeth scraping softly against his fingers as you suck your juices off of him. Your eyes remain on his as your tongue slips between each finger. You suck onto his fingers as he pulls away and Shouto growls as he pulls his hand away from you.

“Get up.” Shouto snaps, his hands moving to remove the belt around his waist, and you are quick to slide off the table. Your knees buckling under your weight as Shouto removes his pants. You watch in an almost lusting horror as his cock springs out from under his underwear. He was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever seen and your throat feels dry as he gasps. His dick must be hypersensitive already.

Steeling yourself over, you drop to your knees, uncaring that he wasn’t quite ready as Shouto struggles to step out of his pants.

As soon as his feet are free, your hands immediately grab his length. His girth wide enough you struggled to hold it with one hand. You smirked at the fact that he had two protruding veins on both sides of his cock, how typical for this half and half genetic phenonium.

“Y-Y/n…” Shouto stutters as your hand fists up and down his length in pretense. Your eyes snapping up to meet his lust covered ones.

“Now,” You sigh as your thumb rolls over the pre-cum that slips from the tip of his head. “I better not catch you not looking at me, understood?”

Shouto licks his lips, his eyebrow quirking. “I don’t take orders from you.”

You smile softly, but there’s a strong sadistic tone to it as your hands twist his skin. Shouto curses as he nods, “Fine!”

“Good boy," you tease as your mouth opens and you let him penetrate it. His girth so wide you had to open wider than you were used to. You gasp as you push him further down your throat. Your eyes flashing up to see Shouto struggling to keep his head down and eyes wide. Good god, you hope you were wet enough to take him in without lube.

Your mouth sinks down as far as you can go while not straining yourself. Your fingers trailing up and down his toned thighs as you move your head up and down his length. You’re now in a smooth rhythm, sucking his cock with enough vigor to make Shouto curse your name.

Your movements signal to Shouto that he can move as well. Shouto groans and his hips move forward. You relax against his rocking hips, you're focused on your breathing as his cock moves up and down your throat. Deeper and deeper, you feel his cock move within you. His hand pressing against the back of your throat, and you gag softly against his length.

Your eyes look back up to see Shouto’s eyes closed. Moans and pants spilling out with every thrust, and your cheeks hollow out. Creating a vacuum sensation against his length.

“Fucking shit!” Shouto snaps. His hands tangling within your locks as he overtakes your dominance. Shouto then begins fucking your throat without hesitation. “Taking my cock like the dirty slut you are, of course, you would be good at this,” he hisses as his cock only goes further down your throat.

You struggle to breathe with his thrusting. His snapping hips overwhelming you with their speed and depth. He’s barbarous against your throat. Uncaring about the burning sensation erupting through your airway as he continues at his strength and speed. Your tongue swirls around his thrusting cock. Trailing against his veins as his hips stutter.

You moan against his length. The action allowing you to gain more air and sending a snarl from Shouto’s mouth as his pace increases.

His hips abuse your throat, and you’re delighted in the fact that you’re keeping up. The soft gags that occasionally slip from your mouth stirring him on. The hum on your throat allowing him to further his strength and speed as your actions overwhelm him. He’s sinful yet heavenly in your mouth and you want him in your dripping cunt. Your thighs shaking with the mere thought of him having his way with you.

He pulls his length away from your mouth. Your saliva stringing between your mouth and his still erect cock. You cough as you try taking in the air again, the lack of oxygen had been ignored as your pleasure was so high.

However, you don’t have the time to adjust to your new air as Shouto pulls you up from the floor. His mouth once again attacking yours as you find your back pressed against the table. His lips are intoxicating, and you can still taste yourself in his mouth. You moan as he lifts you up on the table again.

“Fuck you’re amazing.” Shouto grunts as his mouth trails down your neck and you shudder. How you craved a man you were ready to beat the shit out of earlier was beyond you. Maybe attraction and hatred ran on a fine line.

“I know I am,” you gasp as he spreads your legs, the tip of his cock stroking your soaked folds.

“I’ll get you to say it when my cock is in you,” Shouto chuckles and you moan at the feeling of the tip of his head sinking into your trembling cunt. “Are you ready?”

Your head nods nevertheless, and you still as he chuckles.

“Say it.”

“Shouto--”

“I want to hear you say it," he interrupts, and you stare into his bi-colored eyes and feel as if you’re drowning in his them. They’re desperate, needy, and full of want. It’s enough to steal your breath away as you nod again.

“Please fuck me.” You whisper, and Shouto smiles.

A shriek crashes through your mouth as he pushes his cock all the way into your awaiting cunt without hesitation. His girth stretches you out in an unimaginable way. Your walls fluttering as they attempt to relax and grow used to his size. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking huge!” You cry as your body trembles as Shouto leans forward. His own breathing a quiet hiss as your walls clench around him.

“I bet I’m the biggest you’ve e-ever had.” Shouto cockily rasps, but his words feel powerless as he is affected by your pulsating walls. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

You whimper as the painful throb in your pussy lulls and you wiggle your hips against him, “N-Now fuck me right. Don’t fucking make me regret giving in.” You gasp as his eyes lock on yours.

There’s something unsaid flowing between the two of you. An agreement, a secret being whispered through your eyes. Three years of frustration and denied attraction. Three years of forced hatred disappearing between your bodies.

Shouto smiles, small and sweet, yet terribly contrasting as he adheres to your demand. His hips position to a better angle, and you can only watch with fluttering eyes as he begins ramming into you. Your hips move in time with his. Both of you desperate under your denied orgasm and this heightened state of pleasure. Shouto’s hands grip your waist. His grip leaving bruised marks as he slams your body faster against his huge cock. He's stretching you out deliciously. His hands drag out under your ass, clenching your supple flesh as this tiny different position stretches you out in a mind-numbing way.

His hips crashing into yours is transcending, and your cries only fuel Shouto on. Your body feels as if it is on fire as he drags a single leg up onto his shoulder. His cock bottoming out into you making your back arch off the table as you wail out his name. Shouto’s heated fingers press against your throbbing clit. You sputter as he rubs harsh and delicate figure-eights onto your puffy nerve. Your pussy is clamping down on his moving cock, slowing him down slightly, before he grunts and increases his speed and strength.

Your noises of pleasure silences as his cock hits the back of your walls, your legs thrashing around as he drilled into you the same way.

Again and again.

More and more.

His cock smashing against your walls until he tilts his angle and comes down hard against your g-spot.

“SHOUTO!!!” You scream as he continues pounding into your g-spot. His name a prayer on your lips as he continues fucking your brains out.

You shoot up off the table, your screams sounding in his ear as you wrap your arms around him. Despite the fact that your leg was on his shoulder, you held on. The angle allowing Shouto to drive his cock against your g-spot over and over again, your screams drowning out as his mouth covered yours. His body is giving you exploding sensations, your tightness making Shouto moan and curse.

“I needa -- fuck yes, baby do that again -- I needa come!” You squeak as your body rocks against his own.

“Come for me, baby.” Shouto sighs into your mouth. “Come around my cock.”

The pleasure in your belly is overwhelming, it's building up so fast, and your toes curl in electrifying pleasure. You can’t handle it anymore, the pleasure being too much.

Your orgasm crashes through you, your vision turning white as your jaw drops as your screams go silent. Shouto’s mouth continues to move against yours, kissing sloppily against your teeth as he chases his own orgasm.

His hips continue slamming into you, they’re brutal as they slam over and over again. He’s chanting your name as your stimulated cunt continues clenching around his length. His pace is making you grow limp in his arms, although your hips still continue to roll against his. His breathing is short and tense. Panting as he struggles to keep himself composed.

“Come inside me…” You whine into his ear, desperate to feel his hot seed expelling within you.

His cock stretches you out in a new way as he presses you back onto the table his arm lifting your second leg over his shoulder. The twin bulging veins on his cock rubbing a fire against your walls. Shouto fucks you mercilessly, his fingers clenching your ass as you come apart for him. Shouto, unable to keep a controlled mind on his shoulder, loses himself within you. His hips drilling forward one last time. A heavy load shooting into your throbbing cunt.

Shaky breathing fills the air as he pulls out of you.

You whine at the lack of him within you, and your body relaxes as he steps back. Your hands pressed against the table as you pant, desperate to find your air again. A whimper on your tongue as you feel your combine cum seeping from your clenching pussy.

“You were amazing.” Shouto chuckles as he leans down next to you.

You moan as you look over at him.

“I can’t believe I let you fuck me in the library without you even buying me dinner…”

“...would you let me buy you dinner one day?”

Your eyes blink as you stare at your rival in front of you. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire as you nod.

“I’d love to…”

You moan softly as his lips press against yours.

You lose yourself in his lips until the reason why you’re in this library to begin with flashes across your mind.

“SHOUTO THE PAPER!”

Bonus!

Everyone stared as you held onto Shouto’s hand as you walked into your psychology class. Everyone was silent as the two of you sat next to each other in the same row you two had claimed as your own.

No one dared to speak as you kept your head down and Shouto, unconcerned about others' opinions, placed his arm around your shoulder.

You’re pretty sure you heard people choking on their air at that fact.

Midnight thankfully strolls in, her hands full of her things as she’s ready to get these presentations over with.

“Thank you to all of you who turned in your papers on time! We only had one pair not do that!” Midnight chirped as she stared at you and Shouto.

There was a spike of restless energy in the room as they all put together quickly that it was top students Todoroki Shouto and you.

“Care to explain to us why it was late, and why you two are suddenly… buddy-buddy?” Midnight grins, her cheeks blushing as she finally was able to bring the two of you together, not that you knew anyways.

Shouto stood up, and your heart beat in your chest as you had no idea what he was going to say.

“We fucked.”

And screams sounded throughout the classroom.

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Five

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Five

Jace worried that things would be weird when they got back home. He and Simon hadn’t spoken since New Year’s. He’d thought about texting, had in fact written and deleted at least a dozen texts over the next three days, but he never actually sent one. After all, Simon was the one who left without a word, and Jace wasn’t the kind of guy who chased after a hookup who wasn’t interested.

But when he finally got back to the apartment, it wasn’t weird at all.

He arrived home late afternoon the day before classes were due to start again to find Simon and Maia on the couch playing Overcooked. Simon glanced away from the game just long enough to tell Jace there was pizza in the kitchen if he wanted some, and that was it. The three of them spent the rest of the evening gaming, Simon acting like nothing at all had happened and Jace trying to convince himself that it didn’t bother him in the slightest. If Maia noticed anything, she didn’t let on.

The beginning of the new term was busy enough that they didn’t see each other much over the next few days, and Jace threw himself into his new classes with an enthusiasm he usually reserved for more hedonistic pursuits. Thursday night found him at his desk, deeply immersed in his world history reading. He was in the middle of a very dry passage on the Byzantine-Norman wars when he heard a light knock on his bedroom door.

“What is it?” he answered, not looking up from his book.

“Hey,” Simon said, opening the door. “I was just wondering what you were doing tonight.”

Jace looked up from his book only to have his brain come to a screeching halt. Simon was standing in his doorway, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. A small towel. It was disturbingly reminiscent of that first week living together, when Jace had realized exactly how hot Simon was. Except now he knew what it felt like to touch Simon, to kiss him, knew how he liked to have his dick stroked and the noises he made when he came.

With great effort, Jace snapped his eyes up to Simon’s face. Simon, who was still talking like nothing at all was off about him just strolling into Jace’s bedroom mostly naked.

“Because I don’t have any plans, and I was thinking maybe you might want to do something. You know, if you’re free.”

There were many things Jace wanted to do, all of which involved divesting Simon of that towel.

“Were you planning to put pants on?” Jace was proud of how level he managed to keep his voice.

The look Simon gave him was somewhere between flirtatious and challenging. “Do you want me to?”

He didn’t. He really didn’t, but he also didn’t know what the hell was going on, and while Jace would never say he didn’t knowingly walk headlong into bad choices on a regular basis, he tried not to make the same mistake twice. Three times, tops.

“Simon,” Jace said levelly, “what are you doing?”

“Seducing you?” Simon seemed to deflate a little. “Or, you know, failing to seduce you, apparently.”

“Not exactly failing,” Jace admitted, standing to move closer to Simon, who gave him a tiny, hopeful smile. “But I thought you said this was a mistake.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it,” Simon said, “and maybe I was wrong.”

Hope rose like a cresting wave inside Jace’s chest, and he struggled to keep it from sweeping him away. “I had fun on New Year’s.”

“Me too,” Simon said, taking a tentative step closer. “Like, a lot. And I was thinking, you know, we’re obviously into each other, so maybe it wasn’t a mistake. Wouldn’t be a mistake.”

Jace found himself nodding. This could end in disaster, probably would end in disaster if his life thus far were any indication, but standing here with Simon so close, his smile so bright, Jace thought maybe it was worth the risk.

“I mean, as long as you’re not seeing anyone else,” Simon said quickly, and that rising swell of hope crashed like shattering glass. “Because I don’t really—”

“I get it,” Jace interrupted. He didn’t actually need a detailed explanation of why Simon was only interested in hooking up with him until someone better came along. It was all anyone ever wanted from him, and most of the time it was what he wanted, too. “We’re both hot and single, so as long as neither of us is seeing anyone, there’s no reason we can’t have fun together.”

Simon’s brows furrowed, and for a second Jace worried that he hadn’t managed to hide his disappointment, but then Simon was smiling at him again. “Yeah, of course. That’s exactly what I meant.”

“In that case,” Jace said, taking the last step that put him firmly inside Simon’s personal space, “my answer to your earlier question is no.” When Simon started to frown, he clarified, “I don’t want you to put your pants on.”

“Good,” Simon said, leaning in so that their lips just barely brushed as he spoke, “because I’d much rather take yours off.”

Their mouths met in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle, and Jace had to pull away after only a few seconds because of how much he wanted.

“Do you think we can make it to a bed this time?”

Simon glanced over at Jace’s bed, as though he were seriously contemplating the answer to that question. “I think we can probably manage.”

“Good,” Jace said, catching Simon’s gaze and holding it. “Because I really want to suck you, and you’re not going to be able to stay standing when I do.”

Simon kissed him, hard and fast. “If you keep talking like that, we definitely won’t make it to the bed.”

It took them far longer than it should have to make it across the room, mostly because Simon seemed intent on making sure Jace wasn’t wearing any more than he was by the time they got there, but Jace eventually felt the backs of his knees connect with the edge of the bed and pulled Simon with him as he tumbled into it. They landed in an awkward sprawl, half-laughing into the kiss they refused to break as Jace tugged at the towel that was somehow still knotted around Simon’s waist.

Simon made one of those soft, desperate noises that Jace was quickly becoming addicted to as the towel fell away, and Jace stroked a hand up Simon’s thigh, just high enough to tease. He left it there, unmoving, as he deepened their kiss, licking into Simon’s mouth with intent.

It didn’t take long until Simon’s hips were moving, trying to find friction for his rapidly hardening cock. It took only a few seconds longer for him to realize Jace was doing it on purpose.

“Should’ve known you’d be like this,” Simon said between kisses. “Just as much of a dick in bed as you are everywhere else.”

“Not much of an insult, considering that you like my dick,” Jace answered, finally moving his hand to trail lightly up the length of Simon’s cock, eliciting a shaky gasp. “Consider this payback for coming in here in nothing but a damn towel.”

“Oh, that’s how it’s going to be, huh?”

That was all the warning Jace got before he found himself on his back, hands pinned to the bed above his head, Simon straddling his thighs. He flexed his arms experimentally, determined he probably could get free with enough effort and also that he really didn’t want to.

He cocked an eyebrow at Simon. “What are you going to do with me now that you’ve got me?”

Simon swallowed hard. “So much,” he said seriously. “You said you want to suck me and that works out because I kind of really want your mouth, but first I’m going to show you what happens when you’re a tease.”

“You’re one to talk about teasing. Do you ever bother to take clothes into the bathroom with you when you shower?”

Anything else Jace might have said was lost in a startled gasp as Simon’s mouth closed over his left nipple, a swirl of tongue punctuated by a sharp nip of teeth. Simon repeated the treatment on the right, and it was enough for Jace’s hips to give a tiny, involuntary jerk. Against nothing at all, since Simon was sitting far enough back to keep him from getting any kind of friction.

Jace managed to bite back the frustrated whine that wanted to escape. He wouldn’t give Simon the satisfaction.

“I wasn’t sure you noticed,” Simon said, before returning his attention to Jace’s nipples, and it took Jace several seconds to remember what they were even talking about. When he finally did, he lost any hope he’d had of keeping quiet. Simon had thought about whether Jace was watching him, had maybe wanted Jace to watch him. And that was…that was a lot.

“Fuck,” Jace gasped. His hips were moving again, unable to keep still. “Fuck, Simon.”

“Hmm?” Simon asked innocently as he finally ceased his assault on Jace’s nipples. “Something I can do for you?”

“You could try not being such a—” His words were cut off, lost into the ether with any possibility of coherent thought as Simon’s teeth sank into the skin just beneath his clavicle, hard enough to leave behind a pleasant ache. He wondered if there would be any hint of a mark left by morning. He hoped there would be.

Jace let his head fall back against the bed, baring his neck in invitation. Simon’s hands weren’t pinning his to the bed anymore so much as holding them. Simon seemed happy to take him up on his invitation, worshiping Jace’s neck with tongue and teeth, and finally sucking a deliberate mark into his skin, just above his collarbone, where it wouldn’t be obvious unless he wanted it to be.

“Simon, please.”

“Please, what?” Simon asked, all amused faux-innocence. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“Want you,” Jace growled, finally breaking free from Simon’s grip to tangle a hand in his hair and drag him into an impatient kiss. Simon kissed back, just as desperate, and made absolutely no protest when Jace pulled their hips together to finally get some friction. The kiss slowed, no less wanting, but a little less frantic as they rocked together.

“You have me,” Simon murmured against his mouth, and Jace shuddered with the weight of those words, with how much he wanted them to mean so much more than Simon intended them. But he did have Simon now, and he was going to make the most of it. Which reminded him that he’d gone into this with a plan.

Simon made a noise of protest when Jace pulled away but quieted immediately as Jace moved down his body, tongue following the line of dark hair that led from his chest down to his belly button. He got distracted there for a minute, tracing the lines of Simon’s abs with his tongue, reveling in the way the skin tensed and relaxed under his mouth.

“What did I tell you about teasing?” Simon asked, breathless.

“Don’t remember,” Jace lied, sliding down so that his breath ghosted over Simon’s cock, making his hips jerk. “But you seem pretty into it.”

He didn’t give Simon the chance to respond, sliding his mouth over Simon’s cock and taking him down to the hilt in one smooth motion, swallowing around the head. It was almost too much, too quick, and Jace had to fight back his gag reflex, but it was totally worth it for Simon’s broken-sounding, “Holy shit.”

Jace backed off, tonguing at Simon’s slit and sucking at the head of his dick before sliding back down, then repeating the pattern. It wasn’t the first time he’d deep-throated a guy, but it wasn’t something he had a ton of practice with either, much as he enjoyed it, and he knew better than to rush himself. It got easier every time he took Simon into the back of his throat, spurred on as he was by Simon’s near-incoherent stream of curses and praise. He lost himself in the sound of Simon’s voice, the weight of him on his tongue, the taste of him as he leaked steadily into his mouth.

After a few minutes, Jace realized that Simon was holding back, thighs trembling with the effort of keeping his hips still, one hand fisted in the sheets beside Jace’s head. Jace pulled off Simon’s cock with an audible ‘pop,’ and Simon’s whole body jerked.

Jace met his eyes. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.”

Simon opened his mouth, closed it again, stunned into silence for once.

To illustrate his point, Jace took Simon’s hand from where it was tangled in the sheets and placed it on his head. “I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Not gentle,” Simon repeated, eyes dark and steady as his hand tightened in Jace’s hair. “I can do that.”

Jace lowered his head back to Simon’s dick, never breaking eye contact, letting the head just rest against his parted lips. Simon gave a shallow, experimental thrust, and Jace moaned around him, relaxing his throat so he could take him deeper. Simon thrust again, and Jace let his eyes flutter closed as Simon began to fuck his mouth in earnest.

“Fuck,” Simon panted. “Do you even know…know what you look like right now? Like, you’re always hot, but this is just…fuck. Wish you could see yourself. Wish I could have you like this all the time, except…except I’m definitely not going to last that long, and you’re just. Fuck, Jace, you’re perfect.”

Jace would have been embarrassed by the noise he made at Simon’s words, except that Simon seemed very into it, thrusts picking up speed as he continued in a broken voice, “Oh god, you— So good. I can’t— Shit. Your mouth—”

With a half-voiced gasp that might have been Jace’s name, Simon thrust deep one last time and came in hot spurts down Jace’s throat. Jace swallowed it all, dizzy from arousal and lack of air. He didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on in his life.

And then Simon was tugging Jace up by his hair, kissing him hard and deep like he couldn’t get enough of the taste of himself in Jace’s mouth.

“Perfect,” Simon repeated as his hand closed around Jace’s cock, and all Jace could do was hold onto him and make desperate noises that he would absolutely deny later into Simon’s mouth as Simon expertly jerked him off. It would have been embarrassing how quickly he came, except that Jace was beyond embarrassment, beyond anything but the feel of Simon’s hand, his body, his mouth.

After, they lay together a while longer, exchanging lazy kisses until it became so much that Jace had to pull away. He couldn’t let himself get used to this.

Simon watched him, that tiny thoughtful furrow that Jace found so endearing forming between his brows. When he opened his mouth to speak, Jace cut him off.

“I was thinking, if we order Chinese now, we’ll have just enough time to wash up before it gets here. And after, I want to ride you until you can’t remember anything but my name.”

“I…” Simon blinked at him. “I think I am literally incapable of turning that down.”

“Cool.” Jace rolled off the bed, refusing to look back at Simon, all sex-tousled and sweaty in his bed. “I’ll grab the takeout menu.”

~~~

The Hunter’s Moon was busy for a Tuesday night. Not packed like it would be on the weekend, but definitely more than the usual crowd. Rock Solid Panda wasn’t a big enough name to draw a huge audience, but it was clear they were finally starting to make a name for themselves. It probably helped that they’d finally decided on and stuck with a name for more than two gigs.

Maia was working tonight, and Jace joined Lily and Bat at the bar so they could chat with her when she wasn’t too busy with other customers. It was the first time they’d all hung out together since they got back from break, and Jace had been both looking forward to and dreading the show. Looking forward to it because, despite anything he might say to the contrary, he’d actually kind of missed his friends. Dreading it because his friends knew him, knew Simon, and he really didn’t want to have the conversation he knew would happen if they figured out he and Simon were sleeping together. He wasn’t sure which would be worse, them making the same assumption they had in the coffee shop, that he and Simon were actually together, or them recognizing what was actually going on and knowing that Simon could so much better than Jace, realizing that Jace was willing to take whatever Simon would give him.

“You starting with beer or vodka tonight?” Maia asked as he slid onto a stool.

“Beer,” Jace answered. “I’ve got eight a.m. Latin this semester.”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Lily told him, “that you insist on studying a dead language for fun, that you’re willing to be in class at eight in the morning to do it, or that you’re letting it keep you from getting properly drunk at your best friend’s show.”

“I took Latin in high school, and it just makes sense to stick with it for my language requirement, and Simon isn’t my best friend.”

“Oh, sorry,” Lily said, “your fake boyfriend’s show. Speaking of, seems like none of us has won that bet, yet. I’m impressed.” She looked up at Maia, who set a frothing pint in front of Jace. “Unless you’ve been holding out on us, Roberts.”

“Nope,” Maia said, shaking her head. “They both made it through the entire break without my assistance.”

“We’re proud of you, buddy,” Bat said, patting his shoulder.

“Oh, fuck off,” Jace said. “We were fine. Minimal family drama, and Simon charmed the hell out of my entire family.”

Maia’s eyebrows climbed almost to her hairline. “Even Maryse?” She’d never actually met Jace’s adoptive mother, but she’d heard more than her share of stories.

“Even Maryse,” Jace confirmed. “I think starting dating again has mellowed her out a little.”

At Lily’s prompting, Jace gave an abbreviated—and entirely sanitized—rundown of his visit home. Maia gave him an odd look when he mentioned Magnus’s party, but she didn’t say anything. Jace brushed it off, but it left him with an unsettled feeling.

“Hey, you,” Maia said to someone behind them just as Jace was finishing up his story.

“Hey,” Simon said. Jace could hear the smile in his voice even before he spun around to face him. “We just finished setting up and wanted to come say hi before we start our set. Becky says ‘hi back,’ by the way,” he told Maia.

“Did she say anything else?” Maia asked hopefully.

“Nope,” Simon said. “Well, she told me to stop being dumb when I suggested she, you know, actually talk to you. You guys know that’s an option, right? Talking to each other directly?”

Maia ignored him, turning to Maureen. “Excited about the big show?”

“Holy shit, you guys,” Maureen said, her own smile tempered by just a hint of panic, “there are so many people here.”

“Yeah, because you guys are awesome,” Maia said. “Seriously, you deserve this.”

“It’s true,” Lily said. “I don’t even like indie rock normally, but you guys are alright.”

“Ooh, ‘alright,’” Simon repeated archly. “High praise from the great Lily Chen.”

“And you better bask in it,” Lily told him. “It’s a shame you didn’t get here a little sooner. You just missed Jace telling us all about your New Year’s adventure.”

Simon’s eyebrows shot up. “Wh-what?” He threw a panicked look at Jace, who could only give a tiny head shake.

“Yeah,” Bat said. “We heard you got your ass kicked at Land Mines.”

“We lost by one shot!” Simon protested, visibly relaxing despite his scowl.

“Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,” Jace told him, smirking.

“Really,” Simon said, turning to look at Jace with a calm intensity that Jace had gotten to know very well over the past several days, one that had his dick twitching with interest. “I’ll remember that.”

“Let me know if you need a reminder,” Jace said, leaning back against the bar. He saw Simon’s eyes flick to his collarbone, where the fading mark he’d left was just visible above the open collar of Jace’s shirt. It was light enough now that no one looking at it would know what it was at a glance, but Jace knew. And more importantly, Simon knew.

“I don’t think I’m the one who needs a reminder,” Simon said, and Jace had to actively suppress a shiver.

“Anyway,” Maureen said pointedly, giving them both a dubious look, “we should probably get back on stage. We’re on in five minutes.”

“Right,” Simon said, tearing his gaze away from Jace. “Playing music. That thing that we’re doing in front of, wow, so many people.” His grin was back as he looked at Maureen. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit!” she agreed, pulling him toward the stage.

“I’d ask what that was about,” Lily said, “but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Jace said, sipping his beer nonchalantly.

“Wow,” Bat said. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of a shitty liar?”

“If Jace had to explain every time he did something weird, he’d never stop talking,” Maia said, and Jace wasn’t sure whether to be offended or grateful. He was saved from having to decide by Simon stepping up to the mic and introducing the band.

Rock Solid Panda’s set was mostly music Jace knew, mostly their early songs with a few covers thrown in. As they played, Jace found himself paying less attention to the music and more to the way Simon’s hands moved as he played, the way he lost himself in the music. It wasn’t the first time Jace had found himself watching Simon, but it was the first time he let himself keep doing it.

“So, this last song is new,” Simon said. Over the course of their set, the crowd had gone quiet. “I just finished writing it a few days ago, and we’ve only played it a couple times in practice, so it might be a little rough. But, um. Well, I hope you like it. This one’s called Random Afternoon.”

As Simon plucked out the opening notes, Jace recognized it as something he’d heard vague snippets of over the past couple weeks, just the guitar line as Simon worked through it in his room. This was the first time he’d heard any of the lyrics, though.

It was a love song. Melodic and melancholic, it spoke of a love that didn’t sweep you off your feet but bloomed in a thousand tiny, mundane moments. A love that started as the faintest flicker and grew to a consuming inferno before you realized you were in danger of getting burned. A love that was wholly unrequited, because those moments didn’t mean the same thing to them as they did to you.

Jace drained the last of his beer, trying to settle the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t jealousy. He didn’t get jealous. It was just a song, and he and Simon weren’t even together really, so even if Simon was harboring feelings for someone he couldn’t have, it wasn’t any of Jace’s business.

He turned to the bar, intending to ask for another drink—something stronger this time, maybe—only to find Maia already there, sliding a glass of water over to him. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Don’t be stupid,” she told him, shaking her head like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Maybe she did. She was the only person he’d ever talked to about…any of this. But at least last time she’d given him tequila.

He looked back to the stage, sipping his water and wishing he’d insisted on tequila.

~~~

“Thanks for staying and helping us get all the equipment loaded back in the van,” Simon said when they got back to the apartment several hours later. “You didn’t have to, and I know you’ve got early class tomorrow.”

“It was wholly self-serving,” Jace told him. He still felt unsettled and far too sober. “You would have woken me up when you got home, anyway, and it would have taken you longer without my help.”

“Well, whatever your reasons, I appreciate it,” Simon said. “I still can’t believe so many people showed up.”

“I can,” Jace said, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch. “You played a good show.”

“You really think so?” Simon looked genuinely surprised, and it only added to Jace’s feeling of disquiet.

“Yeah,” Jace said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It should have been. Maybe he wasn’t as effusive in his praise as Bat or Maia, but he’d been to basically all of Rock Solid Panda’s shows over the past two years. “You put a lot of yourself into your music.”

As soon as the words were out of Jace’s mouth, he was thinking of the new song Simon had played. Maybe he’d been thinking about it the whole time. From the way Simon froze, Jace knew he’d hit a nerve.

“Sometimes,” Simon said. “But not always,” he added quickly. “Sometimes, I write songs about, like, random thoughts that come into my head, or stuff that’s happened to other people, or, you know, Maureen and I even collaborate on writing sometimes, so some of the songs are hers.” Simon was babbling. He was kind of a terrible liar.

“It was a compliment,” Jace said with an amusement he didn’t feel. “You should learn how to take one.”

“Oh,” Simon said. “Right.” He forced a smile that almost looked genuine. “Thank you.”

Jace shook his head. “I give that a C-plus at best. Come on, you can do better than that.”

“You know what?” Simon said, raising his chin. “I take it back. I shouldn’t be thanking you, because Rock Solid Panda is awesome, and our music is awesome, and you should be complimenting us, like, all the time.”

“That’s more like it,” Jace said, grinning.

“No, now I just sound like you,” Simon said, shaking his head.

“Exactly.” Because I’m awesome and people should be complimenting me all the time.”

Simon gave him an unimpressed look. “Remind me why I’m friends with you again?”

“We literally just went over this,” Jace said, lounging against the wall. “Because I’m awesome and people should—”

“Oh my god, stop talking,” Simon said, but he was obviously fighting back a smile now. “Seriously.”

“You going to make me?” Jace challenged, and this was probably the kind of thing Maia meant when she told him not to be stupid, because he knew now that Simon was in love with someone else. Or hung up on someone, anyway. And Jace was at least honest enough with himself to know that he was just asking to get hurt if he kept having sex with a guy he was maybe into as more than just a friend with benefits who didn’t feel the same way about him.

He was also honest enough with himself to know he was going to do it, anyway.

Simon shook his head. “Nope. That’ll just encourage you.”

“See, you say that.” Jace stretched his arms above his head, very deliberately arching his back and making his shirt ride up to reveal a sliver of skin above the waistband of his jeans. “But this is totally doing it for you.”

“I really kind of hate you sometimes,” Simon said without heat before stalking over and pinning Jace’s still-raised wrists to the wall above his head.

“Oh yeah?” Jace said, rolling his hips shamelessly against Simon’s. “Why don’t you show me how much?”

The kiss was hard and bruising, Simon’s body pressing him into the wall like he was trying to erase every millimeter of space between them. Jace kissed back just as hard, exerting just enough pressure with his arms to make a show of protest, but not nearly enough to break Simon’s hold. Maybe he’d never be the kind of guy Simon wrote love songs about, but like this, he knew what Simon wanted, what he liked, and he planned to give it to him.

They were both breathing hard when Simon broke the kiss to say, “Bedroom, now.”

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, a little dazed.

“Mine, not yours,” Simon added seriously. “I want you in my bed.” He put just a little more pressure on Jace’s wrists before releasing them entirely.

Jace felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs. They hadn’t actually done anything in Simon’s room. They mostly ended up in Jace’s room, or on the couch, and there had been that one time in the bathroom when they had decisively concluded their shower was not big enough for anything other than getting clean. But never in Simon’s room, and the idea that he wanted Jace there, in his bed, made something inside Jace tremble.

Simon didn’t give him time to dwell on it, kissing him again before turning to walk down the hall toward his room, expecting Jace to follow. Knowing Jace would, probably, because somewhere along the line Jace had apparently lost any ability he once had to say no to Simon.

As soon as he made it to the bedroom, Simon was kissing him again, deep and filthy and full of promise as he quickly and efficiently divested Jace of his shirt and pants.

“Eager,” Jace observed as he kicked free of the pants that had pooled around his ankles, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs.

“You wanted me to show you how much I hate you,” Simon said. His smile and tone were teasing, but there was something else in his eyes that Jace couldn’t quite identify. “So that’s what I’m doing. Get on the bed.”

Jace made a show of stretching out on the bed, reveling in how Simon followed his every move with his eyes.

“You just planning to look?” he asked when Simon made no move to follow him.

“You kinda deserve it,” Simon said, pulling off his own shirt. “But no.” He kicked off his pants and crawled up the bed until they were face to face, his knees bracketing Jace’s hips. “Because you’re right. This totally does it for me.”

He leaned down to bring their mouths together, and it was slow and gentle in a way Jace wasn’t expecting, wasn’t prepared for, and he felt like he was being unraveled by it, all the loose threads that made up the tangled mess that was Jace being pulled apart by Simon’s lips and tongue and breath.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Simon told him, mouthing along the skin of his jaw. He took one of Jace’s hands and wrapped his fingers around the slats of the headboard, then did the same with the other hand. “You’re going to keep your hands right here like this, and I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take it.”

As close as they were, there was no hiding Jace’s full-body shiver at Simon’s words, no hiding just how much he wanted, but he still put on a cocky smile and gave his best shot at seeming unaffected. “Bossy. What makes you think I’m just going to go along with it?”

“Because you like me bossy,” Simon said, running his hands up Jace’s arms from his shoulders to where his hands still gripped the headboard and grinning down at him. “This is totally doing it for you.”

Jace’s denial was cut off by Simon reaching a hand down to cup his cock through his underwear, thumb dragging across fabric wet with pre-come. Jace bucked up into the touch, gasping. His hands stayed where they were.

Simon’s grin was smug as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of Jace’s boxer-briefs and pulled them down and off in a single motion. Jace made a soft noise—half relief, half impatience—as his cock sprang free from its confines to lie hard and leaking against his abdomen.

Simon’s smugness turned to something almost like awe as he sat back on his heels and just looked, and Jace started to feel that unraveling sensation again even as his cock twitched under the weight of Simon’s appreciation.

Jace licked his lips. “If you want me to take it, you’re going to have to give it to me.”

“I’d tell you to be patient, but I know that’s a lost cause,” Simon said, reaching over to grab condoms and lube from his nightstand. This meant leaning over Jace, close enough that Jace could feel the heat of Simon’s body, but still not quite touching. Until Jace rocked his hips up, rutting against Simon’s hip for the few glorious seconds it took Simon to pull back.

Simon sat back on his heels once again, his free hand moving to Jace’s hip and pressing it firmly into the mattress as he gave him an unimpressed look.

Jace smirked back. “I wouldn’t need to be patient if you weren’t taking your damn time about it.”

“You say things like that,” Simon said, uncapping the lube, “but I don’t think you’ve really considered the full implications of what you’re asking for.” He poured some lube out into his palm, coating his hand, before moving the bottle to spill directly onto Jace’s dick.

“Fuck, fuck.” Jace arched off the bed from the unexpected cold, and before he could even find the words to tell Simon what an absolute asshole he was, the cold was replaced with the heat and delicious pressure of Simon’s hand.

“And anyway,” Simon said, continuing to stroke Jace’s cock with one hand while the lube-slick fingers of his other hands circled Jace’s hole, “this is supposed to be about how much I hate you.” He pressed one finger just inside, teasing Jace’s rim. “So I’m going to take exactly as long as I want to.”

Then that finger slid all the way in, and for a while Jace’s entire world narrowed down to the feel of Simon’s fingers—around him, inside him—and the sound of Simon’s voice, teasing and praising in turn.

“God, look at you.” Simon had three fingers inside him, and Jace had long since lost the ability to form coherent words. Or do anything, really, besides cling to the headboard and writhe under Simon’s touch.

“You’re so hot like this.” He curled his fingers, stroking over Jace’s prostate for what must have been the hundredth time. “And everyone thinks they know how hot you are, but they don’t because most of them haven’t seen you like this, and that’s almost a kind of tragedy except that I do get to see you like this.” He sounded almost as wrecked as Jace felt. “I get to make you like this.”

“Simon,” Jace gasped, and he wasn’t sure whether it was Simon’s words or the curl of his fingers that brought him there.

“Okay,” Simon breathed. “Okay, yeah.” And then Simon was taking his hands away and Jace let out a desperate whine because Simon going away was the last thing he wanted.

“Shh,” Simon soothed as he tugged off his own underwear and fumbled open the condom wrapper. “I’m not going anywhere.” He dropped a quick kiss on Jace’s knee, then leaned back again so he could roll the condom on and slick up his cock. “I promise.”

“Don’t want promises,” Jace said, managing to drag the words out from somewhere. “Just want you in me already.”

Simon let out a faint growl, and then he was hooking Jace’s knees over his shoulders, pinning Jace to the bed with his own body, pushing into him in a single, relentless stroke.

“This what you wanted?” Simon asked when his hips sat flush against Jace’s ass.

It was. God, it was.

“Want you to move,” Jace said.

Simon did, fucking Jace like he wanted to break him, kissing him like he wanted to own him. It was everything, and Jace took it. Because Simon told him to. Because he wanted to.

“Feels so good,” Simon panted. “God, Jace, I just—”

He reached a hand between them to wrap around Jace’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, and Jace keened.

“Come for me,” Simon said. “I want to feel you come for me, baby.”

Jace didn’t know whether it was the command or the endearment that pushed him over the edge, but he was shaking apart with Simon’s next upstroke, spilling between their bodies as Simon swallowed the desperate sounds of his release. Simon fucked him through it, not slowing until Jace was trembling on the edge of overstimulation.

“Don’t stop,” Jace told him. “I can take it.”

“Jace—” Simon’s voice was wary, but Jace could feel how much he wanted in the way his body trembled, the way his hips never quite stopped moving.

“Want you to come with your dick inside me,” Jace said, locking his ankles around Simon’s back. “Please.”

“Fuck,” Simon swore as he started moving in earnest again. “How are you even real?”

Jace wanted to respond with something pithy and clever, but he’d lost all capacity for words, for thought as Simon fucked into him, chasing his own pleasure. It teetered on the edge of too much, would be too much if Jace let it, and all he had it in him to do was hang on until finally Simon’s hips lost their rhythm and Jace felt his dick pulsing inside him as he whispered nonsensical words of affection into the skin of Jace’s shoulder.

They lay like that for what felt like an eternity, yet still not enough time at all, until Simon finally sighed and pulled his softening cock out to deal with the condom. He looked at Jace as he tied it off and tossed it in the trash.

“You can let go now,” Simon told him. When Jace just frowned in confusion, he leaned over and tapped Jace’s biceps, grinning.

Jace felt himself flush as he uncurled his fingers from the headboard and lowered his arms, rolling his shoulders to ease the faint ache. He’d forgotten he was even still holding on. He wracked his brain for something to say, anything that would save him from having to think about how easy it had been to do what Simon told him to do, how much he’d wanted to.

“So, you hate me that much, huh?”

Simon’s bark of laughter was incredulous. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, exactly that much.” There was that look in his eyes again, the one Jace couldn’t place, but Simon tore his gaze away before he could tease it out.

“You could stay in here tonight,” Simon said with deliberate casualness, and Jace felt his heart stutter in his chest. “You know, if you want.”

He wanted it so much it was almost a physical ache.

“I’ve got early class,” he said instead. He was keenly aware of all those loose threads Simon had inadvertently spent the last couple hours pulling apart, ready to unravel him completely with just the right tug. He rolled out of Simon’s bed. “I’m just going to take a quick shower and head to bed.”

“Sure,” Simon said. “Of course. That makes total sense. Um. Sleep well.”

“Yeah, you too,” Jace said, grabbing his clothes from the floor as an excuse not to look at Simon. He knew he wouldn’t be able to say no if Simon asked again.

Simon didn’t.

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [bonus]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–nudity boobies! w.c; 2.2k a/n; why did a week go by so stinkin’ fast? i’m not ready to let go of this couple! that being said, i wouldnt mind posting some drabble babbles about these two or four. im utterly thankful for the love and passion my readers had for this, i had so many kind readers that kept me afloat through all of. i can’t wait to see you in the next one, and i hope you enjoy this little glimpse💕

[final] [bonus] -> masterpost

“You’re not Jimin.” 

Jungkook’s eyes snap open, and he takes note of the change in air. Chalk it up to the open window or the fact that the rain’s evaporated, but he can’t help the pinch of pain in his heart as he realizes that you’re far, far gone from this world. 

And in your place, is you. Not quite you, but it’s almost scary how easy it is to regard your visage and simple conversation. 

“Jimin,” he repeats, as if he heard you wrong. “As in, Park Jimin? Tiny guy with a big ego?” 

“Yes,” you reply blandly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes are sparkless, flickering between your state of nakedness and his state of nakedness. “I know I wasn’t exactly sober last night, but I distinctly remember telling him he’d be in my bed tonight,” and you regard Jungkook with a sort of pointed look, unable to decipher your situation, “but here you are. Still cupping by boob.” 

Out of reflex, he squeezes his palm. Yep, that’s yours. 

A little part of him also wants to yell to the heavens because you failed to tell him you were hooking up with Park Jimin before all of this. 

Okay technically you didn’t, but the person in front of him did. 

His heart is fresh and stinging like a hot cut on the asphalt. He watches you take in your surroundings, humming when you notice the new clothes on the rack and the way your desk has been rearranged. Jungkook is trying very hard to be patient, after all you’re a stranger and suddenly he feels like he’s the one that’s known you all his life. Oh, how the tables have turned. 

You stretch, testing out your limbs as they pop and crackle at your command. You run a hand through your strawberry-smelling hair, and Jungkook has to grip the sheets to not go by instinct and take you right then and there on this mattress. With a shameless groan of satisfaction, you flop against your bed. Jungkook tries, emphasis on try, to not watch as your breasts bounce and the way your hair flows around your pillow like the angel you are, but he’s rendered smitten. 

“Uh,” boobies boobies boobies. 

You pointedly ignore his piss-poor attempt at coherent conversation, staring up at the ceiling.  “Ho—ly shit,” you curse freely, heaving an exhausted sigh, “I feel so sore.” 

“S-sore?” Great, he found his voice. 

“Yeah, like I’ve been in a coma or something,” but you think nothing of it, summing it up as a crazy dream from alcohol poisoning. You sit up straight, reaching for your phone. It’s not on your desk, but instead you find something far more interesting. 

You reach for your Midnight Blue Citrus candle, frowning at the contents. The wax is nearly burnt to the end, the tips of the wicks charcoal black and frayed. Waving your used candle in Jungkook’s face you blame, “What the fuck, did you use all of this last night? I just bought this like, literally yesterday!” 

His face falls, “What? You’ve had that candle for forever—”

“And why the heck it is so hot in the middle of February?” 

Oh. 

Something dark and sad creeps up Jungkook’s stomach, and he hates to be the one to tell you. February was when it all started, and his life changed with the presence of you. Jungkook tells himself repeatedly that the woman in this room is simultaneously the person he’s loved since winter and the stranger he feels that he’s meant to love with time. Considering everything’s happening all at once understanding it is still hard, but he’ll try for you. 

It breaks his heart to see how you look lost and confused, like a child woken up from a debilitating nightmare. Your lips are bitten red and purple, trying your hardest not to show fear in front of him, a stranger. You’re frustrated as you try your hardest to shut the windows to block the incoming humidity from last night’s rain. 

He says your name, sweet and soft. “It’s almost summer,” he says, his voice calm and collected. 

“So are you telling me, that wasn’t a dream?” 

The two of you stare at each other, unmoving. He tries not to squirm under your gaze, you watch him intently, scraping at the edge of your brain for any ideas. You’re hugging yourself, arms wrapping against your breasts as if you’re trying to hold your body together in a way that alludes to any brokenness you felt over these past two months. 

Neither of you break the silence, and there’s a bang and a crash. Jungkook flinches at the tell-tale signs of the unwanted intruder, the fling of keys across your wooden table and a shrill call of your name. 

“Who’s that?” 

“Probably Hoseok,” Jungkook answers reluctantly, his thumb rubbing between his brows. 

He ignores the extra cool air against his naked bits when he throws the blankets off his lap. Ignores the way you pointedly, shamelessly check him out as he throws on his sweats and a t-shirt. To his dismay he can’t ignore the burn in his cheeks when he knows how you’re scrutinizing him like a one-night stand, trying to recollect any type of concrete thought that would seem plausible enough to explain why you woke up in bed with him. 

Throwing open your bedroom door and leaving you there, he cards a hand through his rogue bedhead to face a frantic Hoseok. 

“It’s so early,” Hoseok warbles to himself, impressed that he’s managed to cop fresh donuts and coffee at nearly 7AM. 

Jungkook sees nothing but an orange blob and Hoseok’s head, bleary and vibrating. Rubbing his eyes he says, “You just realized how early it is? Couldn’t you have stopped by a little later?” 

“No, I couldn’t!” Hoseok’s now invading Jungkook’s personal space, as if you weren’t the bridge between their threads of a relationship, as if he and Hoseok could be friends. “I woke up a few hours ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I felt it, Jungkook. It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. The air shifted and I felt like I was between two parallel universes—I swear on my bad knee that I’m not going through a drug trip—and I felt the world turning and changing and it was so fuckin’ weird I had to come here as soon as Dunkin’ opened. Didn’t you feel it too?” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook exhales, not bothering to hide the disappointment. He smiles sadly, “it’s definitely not her.” 

Hoseok’s expression and excitement over the world’s converging falters, and he pulls Jungkook into a hug. They’re not particularly close and Hoseok’s smaller in size compared to Jungkook, but for those five seconds he feels comforted as he hugs him back. 

“Why don’t you go home and chill out, I don’t mind explaining things to her,” Hoseok offers, “and I’ll call you later and let you know how it went.” 

“Okay,” Jungkook replies, voice slow, “that sounds like a good idea, actually.” 

The situation is royally messed up, and he hates that he can’t blame it on anyone. Jungkook is a practical man, and he knows that he has no use when Hoseok is here with donuts and coffee. More importantly, there is no use torturing himself by letting his heart break in the presence of  you. 

“What is this, a party?” Taehyung’s bare feet smack against the hardwood, and he plops himself in the chair next to Hoseok, “did you get me coffee this time?” 

The two of them bicker good-naturedly, with Hoseok explaining a little kindness goes a long way and Taehyung muttering that kindness doesn’t happen without caffeine. Jungkook excuses himself, feeling very much out of place as he moves to your bedroom to pack his things. 

“You’re leaving?” you’re standing in the middle of your bedroom, now dressed in a long t-shirt and your hair tied clean and away from your face. You look pretty. 

“Yeah,” he says shortly, stuffing his jeans in his bag and making sure all traces of him are gone from your bedroom. “Need to sort things out,” he excuses, and while you may not buy it, he really does. He feels heartbroken, angry at the world. Maybe he could visit Yoongi today and get a demo in, put all this pent-up emotion to good use. “But Hoseok brought you breakfast, he’s a good friend, he’ll explain everything.” 

“But I don’t know Hoseok,” you mumble, picking at the hem of your band shirt. You’re pouting, stubborn. 

“But you don’t know me either,” Jungkook retorts, not unkindly, but not exactly gentle. “I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.” 

There’s a hard rip at his zipper, putting in a little too much force as he seals away all his things into a compact backpack. Heck, he even went as far as to take back the hoodie he lent you last month, making sure the fabric is crisp and folded so he can stow it away from your curious eyes. He shoves on his denim jacket from last night, still lingering with the scents of sand and saltwater. It makes him sombre, and the selfish part of him wishes to bottle up that scent and tuck it away forever. 

“You’re wrong,” you blurt when he moves toward the door. His hand lingers over the knob, “I do know you.” 

He narrows his dark eyes, taking in your honest expression, “At Jimin’s job, maybe? I did a couple interviews in the beginning of February. Maybe we passed each other while you had lunch with him.” 

“No. You sang to me, talked to me, as much as you could up until this moment.” 

He remembers the stories you fed to him last night under the stars, shameless and full of love as you explained to him of his other self. The life where he’s a renowned singer, a Golden Boy, one of the most revered in his industry. A life he could only dream of, yet somewhere out there he’s living it in another body making that dream come true. 

Thoughts are running through his head, memories that aren’t his own. He could only imagine what you must’ve gone through, recovering in a hospital bed for two months, unable to move but actively aware of the pain and anguish. How confused you must’ve been, aching to figure out what the hell is going on, acutely aware of the voices constantly chattering about your well-being. 

One of those voices being Jeon Jungkook, who was probably taking care of you night and day. 

His head is starting to throb, and he feels like he’s five seconds away from spiraling. 

“I’d… I’d feel more comfortable around you, Jungkook,” you confess, reaching for his hand, “but if you need to, you can go,” you bite your lip, folding in on yourself once more, “if it hurts too much to be around me right now.” 

He gladly takes your hand, rubbing his thumb between your palm. The familiar sparks he feels when he holds it return, but tamps it down for the sake of your vulnerability. It’s not your fault you’re in this situation. “No… I’m just gonna go home for a bit, clear my schedule,” he gives you a little smile, and he inflates a bit when you give him one of your own. “I’ll come back for you after breakfast.”

“You promise?” 

“Promise.” 

You pull him into an unexpected hug, suddenly fearing he may never come back. 

“I always wondered what the man looked like behind the voice,” and you’re suddenly melting, feeling a sense of familiarity as you let your heart run faster than your brain when you let him hold you in his arms. He smells just like him, too. 

His embrace is tight, and his arms fit in all the little curves and spots that make you feel warm and safe. “And am I living up to your expectations?” it’s a half-joke, after all the both of you are  going simply by feeling and there’s no way in hell would he even attempt to compare himself to well, himself. 

You pull away to look at him, really look at him. Honest, clear eyes. Jungkook thinks he sees the world in your gaze. “Only if you eat a donut before you go,” you reply with a shy smile. 

At your defiant mention of food he can’t help but grin like a maniac, letting you tug him back out to sit at the counter with him and have breakfast. Like he said before, he can’t wait to fall in love all over again. 

[internalsealpanic]

Explosive Chemistry

Summary: Chemistry labs can be a bit tedious. Nothing laser vision can’t fix though. 

A/n: You can all blame @birdy-bat-writes​ for this fluff and @knightfall05x​ for the amazing mood board. This might feel a little rushed so apologies and Clark is kind of hard to write (ope). Anyway, here is your regularly scheduled comedy.  Thanks again to @knightfall05x​ for proof reading!

warning: swearing, reader’s terrible moral compass, and some injury

masterlist

You met Clark- Well, ‘met’ might be too formal a word for what happened. 

 You discovered Clark during a mundane Metropolis afternoon. Taking a break from your studies (read: a group project that had not been going smoothly), you hopped on to a trail car to go to your favorite sandwich shop right across from your favorite diner. 

 The sandwich shop itself was nothing too special, not in a good way at least. It was even what your delicately paletted father had politely described as ‘subpar’ which as far as you knew was the worst insult he could give. Frank- the owner- was, of course, inclined to disagree. You were, on the other hand, inclined to agree with the opinion especially after biting into a raw piece of chicken in one of their “famous” chicken sandwiches. But it was cheap and it offered the best view of the diner across the street. 

In truth, you liked the food at the diner better. Their blueberry pancakes were absolutely delightful, at least, on Mondays.  But more than anything you found more delight in watching its contained chaos. You’ve watched people propose, get divorced, have fights, and everything else in between. The sheer absurd theatrics of it all captivated you. It was people-watching at its finest. Frank just thought it was creepy to which you simply nodded and nibbled at your sandwich. 

As you watched the usual ensemble cast in the diner, you witness a tall, handsome guy with black hair and blue eyes get mugged. Ok, well, almost get mugged. He was a big boi so you weren’t entirely surprised when he was easily able to stop the scrawny knife-wielding assailant. What did surprise you were the proceeding events. To your utter disbelief (and amusement); instead of throwing the guy into the gutter as custom dictates, the buff guy just guided his assailant to the diner and had a chat with him. You chew your sandwich slowly as you watch them talk as if nothing strange had occurred minutes before, digesting the odd comedy unfolding before your eyes. 

 Moments later and a few tears shed, they parted ways. You frowned thinking that would be the end of it and you were about to whine to Frank about how anticlimactic that was. But then it just kept going. 

 He got mugged. 

 Again.

 And again. 

 And again.

 By the fourth time, Frank sat beside you to watch finally leaving the spot he was polishing alone. Repeated muggings were weird enough but the guy kept inviting them to talk. You choked every time but made no move to intervene, only nibbling at your sandwich and watching with near clinical interest.

 After the fifth mugging, Frank raised a challenging brow at you as you continued to chew on your sandwich. You shrug at him as if to say ‘I’m eating what do you want me to do?’. Frank’s eyes didn’t leave you even as another mugger approached the buff guy. You cut him a look and chew a little faster. For a guy running what is most likely a money-laundering scheme, he sure was noble. 

 Having finally finished your sandwich, you wave your hand halfheartedly to Frank, your middle finger extended skyward. Kicking the shop door open and jamming your hands into your hoodie pockets, you made your way to the other side of the street ignoring the cars driving past you, blowing and whipping the skirt of your dress every which way. 

 Neither of them pays you any mind as you approach them, which was just as well. You shifted the strap of your backpack on your shoulder deciding whether to use it. Your laptop was in there so probably not. You decide to christen your new flattops by giving the man a good harsh kick in his nether regions. He goes down with a squeak. 

 “Scram!” You snarl, baring your teeth. In a surprisingly well-coordinated motion, he does, looking honestly scared for his life. You pivot to the guy who you assume is some kind of tourist. 

 Most people would say that Clark towered over you but the truth was that no matter how tall Clark was he couldn’t really measure up to the height of you. Nothing about you was inherently intimidating, especially as you stand before him in flat tops, hoodie, and short dress, except maybe for your shoulders. But that had less to do with their actual shape and more to do with how uncommonly broad they were compared to the rest of your body.  Some people say it made you look like an angry dorito to which you unfailingly replied with something Clark would rather not repeat. At least, not in polite company. 

 You regard him with a pinched brow which makes Clark straighten as you openly assess him. You memorize the angles of his features, all the sharpness and corners of it not noticeable due to the softness of the way he carries himself in a typical hometown boy kind of way.  You note your university’s logo on the edge of his sweatshirt.

 You reach your hand out. “Y/n L/n but just call me Y/n”

 “Clark Kent” He answers, shaking your hands. You note the distinct midwestern shape of his syllables which explained a lot.  

 “Yanno muggers aren’t exactly good speed dating partners, right?”

 Clark smiled at the, admittedly, terrible joke. By the way, your eyes flash with interest, he’ll be seeing a lot of you. 

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

 Your foot bounced erratically against the metal bar serving as your stool’s footrest. You watched the thermometer with a pinched face and a ticking brow as the mercury in it remains unmoving. Your mounting frustration amusing Clark making him cover his mouth. You fix him with a look and the door actually whistles “innocently” and looks away, pretending to be intently reading the procedure as if you two haven’t been reading it for the past half hour trying to figure out why your solution wasn’t boiling. His baby blues none-too-subtly flicking in your direction. You give him one last scathing look, which he easily glances off, before turning back to your solution. His eyes have been flickering at you as if he’s been meaning to ask you a question. That question likely being ‘could you possibly stop looking like you’re going to murder the molecules in our solution’. His eyes flicker again to watch you seethe and pout at the liquid and it takes everything in Clark not to tease you about being cute. 

 Bouncing your leg again, you gently turn the hot plate’s nob until the screen reads 1000 F. Clark makes a choked sound, finally tearing his attention away from what you assumed to be a particularly interesting semicolon. Clark reaches over and turns the damned thing back down to 300 F. You glare at him before, violently, turning it back up to 1000. Clark just as quickly turns it back down. 

 Click

 Click

 Click 

 You two continue on like this for a while ‘til your instructor, pinching his nose, strolls over to your lab bench to politely tell you to knock it off. With a shrug, you two settle on 650 F as your compromise. You, however, continue to glower at the solution while Clark peruses through the next lab distinctly reminding you of someone in the waiting room of a dentist’s office which makes you scrunch your nose and worsen the impatient ticking of your limbs. “Glaring at it won’t make it go faster,” Clark chuckled in his Midwestern sweater voice. You had the urge to pour the hot acid of the flask on to him but you suppressed the urge mainly because it wouldn’t actually hurt and pouring it on him meant starting over and that just sounded tragic.   

 You place your hands primly on your lap and spin your chair towards Clark. “Not all of us can watch grass grow, Paul Bunyan.” You snip. Clark shakes his head at you, whether it’s from your tone or the nickname you can’t tell. All you could discern was that it irritated him and some petty part of you was satiated the way old gods were when someone made an acceptable sacrifice. 

 “Is that what you think we do in Kansas?” Your first impulse is to say ‘yes’ even if it wasn’t the truth. You thought better of it though. Picking a fight with Clark Kent was a terrible idea, superstrength or not. You were, of course, familiar with Kansas as a concept the same way you were familiar with Mars. Both seemed equally distant, equally alien, and equally irrelevant as such you never dedicated too much thought to it. The last one might have changed a bit with your chance encounter with Clark. You remember him mentioning going home for Thanksgiving Break. You also distinctly remember wanting to ask if you could come along. After all, you didn’t have much in the way of killing time during holidays seeing as most of your relatives were overseas and the relatives you did have here were indisposed either due to work or due to other families. You felt silly thinking about it now and even sillier contemplating how you would explain the special brand of unpleasantness of being bored over the holidays. Maybe you should get a boyfriend- your eyes flicker to Clark but you shake your head- or a girlfriend or maybe friends who weren’t either foreign exchange students or farm boys from Kansas with laser vision. 

 You whip your head to Clark who was mumbling something about not staring at the grass. He frowns at you, not finishing his sentence.

 “You have that look.”

 “What look?”

 “The bad idea look.”

 “I do not”

 “Ok, let me rephrase. The let’s do something stupid for science look.”

 You huff indignantly. Clark looks unfazed and a little smug. You did not have that kind of look and sue, you’ve asked once or ten times to use his powers to do something ridiculous but this was a matter of importance. 

 “Use your heat vision”

 “Wha-”

 “Heat vision. Flask. Go faster.” You punctuate each word with a wild flick or gesticulation of your hands. 

 Clark moves his glasses up and pinches the bridge of his sharp nose.“We’re not going to use my heat vision-”

 “-Yes, we are.” 

 “No, we aren’t. Do you want me to list the ways this could go wrong?”

 “Relax, my human shield is invincible.”

 “You’re horrible.”

 “Yup.”

 “I really can’t convince you?”

 “Nope.”

 “What if I just don’t?”

 “Then I dip out and break into a different lab to get a bunsen burner.”

 Clark laughs, shaking his head fondness seeping into his smile. It made your heart melt and your face heat. You know you’ve won when Clark moves his seat closer to you. For some reason, Clark always insisted on sitting just a little farther from you no matter the circumstance. 

 You two lean in. Clark gives you a side glance. “For the record, I said this was a bad idea.”

 “Fine, I’ll quote you on that once I’ve won the Nobel Prize for Chemistry.”

 Clark snorts. He removes his glasses, the blue of his eyes shifting to an angry red. It makes your breath hitch every time being reminded just how dangerous your sweet, gentle best friend really is. 

 You watch the liquid in the flask begin to boil and you make a noise of triumph, throwing your arms up in the air in delight. Clark smiles at you and you feel a little embarrassed by your reaction but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear.   You both lean back and you toss him a smug smile. He huffs at you amused and rolls his eyes. 

 “Fine, not all of your ideas are-”

 Crack. 

 Shatter. 

 Shards of glass fly everywhere as the flask shatters. You yelp high and surprised. Clark pulls you into his arms shielding you from the glass and hot acid. You hiss when a shard cuts against the delicate skin of your forehead. You’re numb as you feel the blood trickling staining Clark’s shirt. Your senses were more focused on the way he wraps his arms around you and how safe you feel despite the graze on your forehead. 

 “Y/n, Clark, are you two ok?”

 You hear the frantic footsteps approach you but neither of you pulls away. You just focus on how tightly Clark holds you against himself.  You feel the flex of his large muscles as he pulls you closer. 

 “We’re fine sir but I think Y/n needs to go to the clinic.”

 Do you? 

 Your fingers rise up your forehead and your stomach drops a little when they come away red. You’re aware that you’re bleeding but it takes some time for the knowledge to fully sink in. Your professor is practically shoving you out of the room by the time you even make any move to react. 

 “Y/n, I-”

 “I swear to god if you say I told you so I’ll punch you in the face-” You look into his eyes, your voice amazingly calm. He opens his mouth again. “- and if you say I’m sorry I’ll punch you in the dick.” His mouth closes and you both fall silent even as you go down the hall towards the university’s health office which was just a glorified clinic with the addition of counselors and a waiting room with Rubix cubes instead of magazines. Clark doesn’t loosen his grip on your shoulder even as you wait for the nurse to come out and treat you. 

 Your mind feels far less frantic than it did a few moments ago. 

 “I told you it was a bad idea.” Clark jokes offhandedly.

 You snort at the remark and glare at him without any real venom. “You really aren’t as nice as people say you are.”

 “Nope.”

 “Jackass.”

 This draws a tired laugh from him. “Well, I’m sorry. Why don’t I make it up to you then?”

 “Unless you’ve got a Porsche in your back pocket”

 He winces. You snort again. 

 “How bout coffee?” You blink at him. “Or maybe dinner? This Friday?” He adds with a hopeful lilt. 

 “Just as long as you don’t invite a mugger to come along.”  

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THANKS FOR READING

taglist:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell

[stardustdaemon]

Promise? (Saeyoung x Reader)

I found this in my documents and had comepletely forgotten about it so, I finished it off!!! I hope you Enjoy!!! <3

Words:3556

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

He hated this. He hated the life he’d found himself in, the sick jokes fate constantly played on him. From birth he just guessed he was unlucky, that God had punished him for being an illegitimate child. Even after opening up his soul to God, he couldn’t get rid of that feeling, a sense of betrayal.

He’d entered the church and found what he thought was solace in a coupe older than him. But the only way they could save him and his brother, was to separate them. The idea hurt, of leaving his weak yet beautiful brother alone. But it hurt more to let him continue living however many days he had left in that household. So he took the options given to him. To walk away from his brother and trust that he would be cared for and that maybe, if God would allow it, they could see each other again.

Years and years passed and he slipped through so many names he didn’t know who he was anymore. He still wondered how his brother was everyday and even though he’d risked his job and life demanding information on him, treasuring the few pictures and anecdotes he’d been allowed to know and see, it wasn’t enough.

One day, he hoped, that they could live happily together again.

Hoped he’d live happily too.  

“I’m only here to protect you. I’ll be over there. Don’t bother me.”

This was the second joke that life had played on him. It had given him a soulmate, somebody to love, somebody that could maybe understand and accept him… Somebody to protect.

But fate had decided that was all he was allowed to do. He couldn’t love you, he couldn’t hold you, kiss you, care for you. He couldn’t even smile for you.

He could protect you, but you could never be close.

“We can neither be friends or family.”

He hated having to pretend like being with you was the biggest inconvenience of his life. That you were nothing but a nuisance, a hindrance and he was only there for work. God, how he wanted to hold you, run his hand through your hair, link his fingers with yours and walk beside you at night.

The best he could do was close his ears to the sounds of your sobs at night, curl his back and tilt his head down to tell you not to bother him.  

He hated having to push you away, but you couldn’t love him. You were so bright, you deserved the sun. He couldn’t provide that for you, he was dangerous.

“I told you to stay away from me!” He didn’t mean to shout and his heart broke at the way you curled in on yourself slightly.

“I just… Wanted to make sure you weren’t hungry… I made you some food but I guess I can p-put it in the fridge. S-sorry.” Your voice shook slightly as you turned around, shoulders slumped.  

He couldn’t take it anymore, reaching out to grab your wrist before he could think, pulling you back against his chest.

“I’m sorry I’m just…Stressed. I’m worried about you… About Saeran. If you get involved with all of this, with me then you’ll be in danger and I can’t risk that. I can’t risk you.” He mumbled against your hair, arms wrapped tight around your waist. You both stayed that way for a while, listening to each others breathing, each others heartbeat. It felt like an eternity before you reached down to tug at his wrists.

“I can take care of myself Luciel. I’m not scared with you beside me.” You spoke quietly, careful not to enrage him again as you slowly turned around to meet his eyes. He stared into yours, his gold eyes worried and glistening with tears before you hugged him tight, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I want to be with you. No matter how dangerous you say you are. I want this. Please, don’t decide for me… I know this is hard, I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling right now but please. Just stay with me for now… Even if after all of this, you have to disappear… I want to remember you as my first love.” You smiled, a soft, sad smile and his heart shattered into a thousand pieces but mended itself at the same time. Your first love. The words echoed around his head on a loop as he blinked at you.

You wanted to love him. You wanted to be beside him and you wanted him at your side too. If he’d learnt anything about you over the past few days it was that you were undeniably stubborn, unmoveable. You were bright and open, friendly and cheery, stubborn and strong and he knew all of that. He loved you for that, the openness of your heart, how willing you were to help, even if you’d been throw into a situation you had no control over, no facts about.  

At first he’d thought you were weak maybe, after all, who agrees to help a group of strangers after being led to an apartment? Who happily stays in somebody else’s home to continue their work with such little information?

But after a few days, he realised you weren’t weak at all. Naïve maybe. But you were strong. You let your heart drive you, you were friendly and there was so much of you to give to others. He still thought he didn’t deserve you, that he should make you hate him, leave him behind. Somebody better for you will turn up right?  

You gently brushed his cheek to bring him back from his thoughts.

“Did you go back to space just then?” You asked quietly and he couldn’t help the laugh that spread through his body. You always knew what to say.  

“Yeah, I think I did.” Luciel admitted sheepishly, his lips curved upwards oh so gently. Your eyes crinkled as you giggled before stepping away.  

“Come on, please eat.” You tugged at his sleeve and he nodded weakly, following you into the small kitchen. You let go to reheat the food and he nearly whimpered at the loss of your warmth before you shot him a grin.

This was why you were strong. He knew you were hurt, that you were scared this moment would fall through and he’d push you away again. But on the outside you acted so calm and careful, it made him feel bad that you had to act that way because of him. As you moved around the kitchen he watched your every movement, eyes drawn to the way your hands shook and you kept pausing to take deep breaths. Your eyes glancing at him every now and then as if to check he was still there.

He couldn’t stand it. He moved towards you in two large strides, behind you within seconds with his arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder. You stiffened ever so slightly before relaxing against him, your hands immediately more steady.

He’d had enough of serious and danger.  

“Hmmmm, looks good!” He cheered by your ear, making you bark out a laugh.

“Really, looks like shit from where I’m standing.” You mumbled, opening the microwave door and setting the time.  

“Must be height perspective. I read somewhere that things look better from an angle.” Luciel teased and you reached back to slap at his thigh. He laughed, pulling a strand of your hair into his mouth. When the microwave pinged, you went to move to open it but he wouldn’t let you.

“Luciel come on, I need to get that.” You whined and he laughed into your shoulder before reaching for the bowl himself, hissing lightly as the heated ceramic made contact with his hand. Before you knew it, you two were part of a weird dance, waddling over to the table with one of his arms still wrapped tight around your waist, the other holding the bowl in front of him. You started to giggle loudly, shaking both of you with each step.

“Hey MC! We’re gonna fall over!” Luciel wailed dramatically and you snorted before he placed the bowl down. You attempted to untangle yourself from his grip but instead he swung you up over his shoulder and headed back to the kitchen side, ignoring your undignified squawk.

“This is much easier, I should’ve done this earlier.” He thought aloud, glancing at you to shift you into position before giggling. “Nice underwear~” He sang, making your face light up.

“When you’re done being a pervert, please put me down, all I can see is your ass.” You mumbled, patting it for reaffirmation and relishing in the way his body jolted.

“Ohohoho, who’s the pervert now?” He queried before making his way back to the table with the other bowl in one hand. You couldn’t help but shake your head as he slowly lifted you off his shoulder before placing you in one of the chairs. You smiled gently before picking up your spoon, motioning for him to follow.

And he did, he sat down in his chair and spun his spoon between his fingers before his eyes widened and his mouth formed a cute little ‘O’. Raising an eyebrow curiously, you watched as he put his spoon down, sliding the bowl over to you and you were about to complain about him not eating before he started scooting his chair around the table.  

The sight was hilarious. You couldn’t contain your laughter as you watched him awkwardly shuffle over, his torso jerking, his knee occasionally hitting a table leg, his hair bouncing with every movement. The sound of the chair scratching against the floor should’ve gotten on your nerves, but still twenty seconds in and you were doubled over, hands over your stomach as you laughed tears into your eyes. When he finally reached your side he was slightly out of breath, his cheeks flushed from either embarrassment or the energy he’d expended travelling half way around the table.

Without saying a word, he reached across the table to retrieve his spoon, smiling at you before digging in. He was happy. He’d only ever witnessed you laugh that hard through the chatroom, only imagined the obnoxious but cute rhythm of your laugh, the way you couldn’t even cover your mouth with your hands because your stomach hurt. The tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and streaming down your face.  

You calmed down eventually, nudging his knee with yours and began to eat. Both of you were silent, bar the occasional snort on your behalf and the ashamed mumble from him.

“Oh man that was hilarious. If only I’d filmed it.” You voiced to yourself, smiling at him as you placed your spoon down. You stood up, picking up both your bowls before heading over to the sink. After rinsing them both out with water you turned around, smiling at Luciel as he stood up to put his chair back in its rightful place.

It was weird. Not an hour earlier you were stood here alone, staring at his back hunched over in the dark corner, trying to ignore the way your heart ached.

Now you were met with a gentle smile, him rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You didn’t have 100% trust in the situation. You knew you were both in danger, with the bomb in the apartment and his agency chasing him but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at that moment. Even if it was the first and last time he was so bright towards you in person, you were going to treasure it.  

Because it was a sign he felt something right? He wasn’t just… Here to protect you, under obligation. But by his own will. That’s what you hoped for anyway.

“Hey you said we’d go to space together next time!” You heard him whisper. He was suddenly stood in front of you, hand resting on your cheek. You blinked once, twice before nodding.

“Ahahah, sorry, got caught up.” You murmured. All you wanted was to see that gentle warmth in his eyes but the sight of it made your stomach turn. What if he just shut down again? What if you pushed him too far? What if you scared him away?

Shaking your head, you rubbed at your eyes hastily before grinning up at him, hoping he wouldn’t see through it.

“So, I um… I got you to eat so… You can go back to working now…” You mumbled, gesturing to his computer. The way his eyes widened made you flinch; he looked hurt. But you’d thought about it. And maybe, for now, it was better if you stopped trying to make him love you.

There were so many things happening right now, big things. His brother is his enemy, his agency is after him, he had to fix the special security system. There wasn’t any room for you, not right now, not when he needed to save his brother.  

“Hey you okay?” He asked as you nodded slowly, moving to the doorway.  

“Yeah I’m fine, just need to go lay down.” You put managed to draw up a light smile, pumping your fist in the air in hopes that he’d let you go. He nodded slowly, stepping up to you and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Sorry again about earlier. Rest well.” And then he was gone. His back facing you once again as you watched him sit back down on the floor, hands stretching over his keyboard.

You hurried to you room, leaning against the door as soon as you closed it.  

You spent a few hours just sat in the dark room, thinking about what to do. When he’d first said he was coming you couldn’t help but get excited. Talking to him in the chatroom was one thing but how much fun would it be in person?

But after he’d saved you from Saeran, he’d become cold, distant and you realised that maybe you didn’t know him at all. Everyone else said you understood him perfectly and you’d thought so too for a few days until he was right in front of you.

It made you feel terrible. Expecting his bubbly warm personality… Expected 707 to come see you. But 707 was a persona, to hide the real him. All you wanted was to get to know him, but he seemed against the idea and it gave you doubts.

Luciel was such a nice guy and… nothing he did with you was too friendly. Just jokes, playful acts. He knew your feelings for him. But maybe they weren’t mutual. You wanted to believe they were but, there was still a chance they weren’t.

Knocking above your head pushed you back into reality and you leant your head against the door.

“Hello?” You called out, coughing at how hoarse your voice sounded.

“It’s me. Could we talk?” Luciel’s voice rang through the door and you nodded to yourself, standing and opening the door for him. The corners of his mouth turned up the smallest amount before he stepped in, hand moving for the light. You grabbed it, shaking your head and led him to the bed instead, taking a seat on the edge and motioning him over. He seemed flustered but moved over anyway, carefully sitting down beside you.

“Why do you want the lights off?” He whispered and you shuffled a little bit closer, hooking your pinkie finger with his.

“Because I want to ask you some questions but I want to hear the answers from your heart… The dark comforts me.” You explained as he gently soothed circles into the back of your hand. You were silent for a while before he spoke up again.

“I know… I know I said we can’t be friends or family and… Honestly I still think it’s better for you to stay away from me.” You winced but he shushed you. “But… I wanted to apologise. My brain has been in overdrive since you first arrived, I don’t know what you did to me but I couldn’t focus. I thought coming to work here would make it easier. But coming to you in person only made me remember the rules I set myself years ago.” You leant your head on his shoulder.

“I told myself to get close to nobody. That way nobody will remember me when I disappear, nobody gets hurt. I don’t want to see you hurt… But I already have and that’s only because of my stupid fears. But, selfishly, I want you to remember me. If something happens to me and I do disappear… I want you to remember who I was.” His eyes stared into yours, shining even in the low light of the room. The words he spoke made your head light. You nodded after a few seconds of silence, a gentle smile gracing your mouth to show him you understood. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes.

“You kind of answered one of my questions already. But I still have a few more.” You spoke quietly, pulling your hands back to place them in your lap as he made a noise of understanding. Taking a few deep breaths, you linked your fingers together.

“Who are you, really? And I don’t mean 707 or Luciel, who is the you that you keep hidden, close to your heart?” You kept your gaze to the floor, breathing becoming sharp when you felt him tense just slightly underneath you. The silence that took over the room was heavy, suffocating and you were about to move away and tell him not to worry when he sighed.

“I... Don’t really know how to answer that question. 707 who you met in the chat, the me before you in this very second, they’re not completely fake. They’re aspects of who I am, but they aren’t me. I guess the real me, the one I refuse to let out is... dark. He’s alone and he’s scared. He’s done bad things and has become to accustomed to those acts, he’s... blunt.” His voice was shaking as he spoke, eyes hesitant to look into yours. You smiled, nodding and leaning up slightly, face in line with his.

“That’s okay. Thank you, for being honest.” You spoke quietly, smiling gently as his lips twitch up at the corners. You stayed silent, watching him for any signs he was uncomfortable but he just sighed, hand gently framing your face.

“What were the other questions?” He asked gently, voice fragile and fear buried in the depths of his eyes. You just shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter, not right now. I don’t want to push you. Or break this moment.” Your voice was a whisper, eyes gently closing as you dropped your head back to his shoulder. He just shrugged, gently laying you both down, your legs still over the edge of the bed, his hand running through your hair.

“I want to hear it, so I can know if my answer is correct.” His voice was quiet, almost lost in the darkness of your room. You took a breath, sitting up to face him, hands fidgeting with your shirt.

“My last question is for my own peace of mind. Selfish. A question for my own healing.” You warned him, watching for any signs of anger or distrust. His expression stayed open as he pulled himself up slightly, weight resting on his elbows, tilting his head for you to continue.

“Do you love me?” The words left your throat before you could think, eyes unable to leave his, even as you felt the tears bubbling. His silence was a constraint on your heart, heavy and crushing before you heard him laugh. A small, breathy sound.  

“Of course I do. I’m not supposed to, and up until ten minutes ago, I was never going to admit it to you. But here we are.” He smiled, causing you to burst out in tears, sobs racking your body, full of relief. His arms were around you at some point, his thumbs brushing away your seemingly endless tears.

You cried for a while, quiet sobs echoing throughout the room, body shaking with relief and fear. Relief that you weren’t alone in your feelings, fear he’d return back to normal when you woke up tomorrow, empty and dismissive of you.

“Come on, I’m not going to leave.” He whispered into your hair and you only nodded, not yet trusting your voice.

He got you into bed, tucked you in and ran his finger down the side of your face, his expression fond. You had calmed down now, breathing mismatched but feeling more stable. As he stood you felt your heart pinch again, preparing yourself to be alone but he only shifted to a cross-legged position, back resting against the headboard.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. We can talk more in the morning, you need the rest.” He mumbled, rolling his eyes to himself as you reached for his hand, interlinking your fingers with a smile.

“Promise?” You mumbled, eyes suddenly feeling heavy with the weight of sleep and he hummed in affirmation, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair.

“Promise.”

[doc-pickles]

Fic request: “you know your wife is pregnant, right?” - Alex finds out via someone else because jo was waiting until they had less stresses on to tell him

me: this���ll be easy and short!

me, one day later: hey brain... wanna write something today or what???

anyways I finally wrote this, hope y’all enjoy it ☺️

Alex was stressed, to say the least. He already had so much on his plate with his role as Chief and now with his mom popping in unexpectedly, he felt like his world might implode. But luckily Jo seemed to be handling things with his mom so he could focus on everything else in this godforsaken hospital.

With a sigh, Alex entered his office and sunk himself into his office chair. Eyes closed and hands resting behind his head, he took a moment to himself to just breathe. The moment, however, was broken by a voice sounding from in front of him, “It must be a lot of work keeping a hospital of this size running.”

Startled out of his momentary peace, Alex turned to his mother, who sat on the couch across the office knitting yet another baby hat.

“Jesus Christ mom, you scared me half to death,” Alex pressed a hand over his chest as he surveyed his mother. “What’re you doing here, where’s Jo?”

“Oh she had a consult or rounds or something I don’t remember what she said,” Helen shrugged, eyes finally looking up from the hat in front of her. “You know, I guess I should be making these a bit bigger. A summer baby won’t need as many newborn sized hats. When does the cold start setting in here?”

Brows furrowed, Alex stared at his mom in confusion, “Not till October. What does that have to do with anything? Why are you talking about summer babies?”

“Well, I figured since it’s December now that Jo was due around July or August,” a beat of silence followed Helen’s statement as Alex tried to comprehend exactly what his mother was telling him. Helen let a gasp out, setting her knitting needles down as she wrung her hands. “Oh, are you not telling people yet? I know neither of you said anything but it was just so obvious I figured you wouldn’t mind me asking. I really am quite excited for you, I know you’ll be a fantastic dad.”

Alex stared at his mom for another moment as his brain finally put together exactly what his mom was saying, “Wait, you think Jo is pregnant?”

“Oh Alex, you don’t have to play dumb with me. I had three children myself you know. The vomiting and the baggy sweaters gave it away,” Helen took in Alex’s shocked face, before mirroring his expression. “You do know your wife is pregnant, right?”

Alex was up and out of his chair before Helen could say anything else, his feet carrying him through the halls in a desperate search for his wife. It took him almost twenty minutes but he finally found her writing in a chart at a nurse’s station.

“Hey I was ju- Alex!,” Jo’s voice rose an octave as Alex pulled her into an empty patient room, closing the door behind him and staring her down. His eyes raked over her, looking for some big change he’d missed in his wife. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Pull up your scrub top.”

“That’s a weird way to say you want sex. Are you feeling okay,” Jo didn’t make a move to do as Alex had asked, his eyes still glued to her as they both stood unmoving. “Seriously what’s up?”

“My mom thinks you’re pregnant, she said you’ve been throwing up and wearing baggy sweaters the whole time she’s been here. But that didn’t make sense to me because you would’ve told me if you were pregnant,” Alex watched as Jo tried to keep her face neutral but failed as her cheeks blanched and her eyes went wide. “Pull up your scrub top Jo.”

“Alex, I-“

“Jo. Pull up your scrub top. Please,” Alex’s stern tone finally prompted Jo to move, her hands pulling her top up underneath her bust as she avoided his gaze. Eyes moving downward, an audible gasp left Alex as he took in the slight curve of Jo’s stomach. “Holy shit...”

“You’ve been so stressed out with work, I didn’t want to stress you out even more. So I was just going to wait until you had less on your plate but clearly that never happened,” Jo watched as Alex stared at her in a daze, eyes not leaving her still exposed stomach. “Can you say something because I’m really starting to freak out here Alex.”

“I thought my mom was going crazy again, I really didn’t think you were pregnant. You’re pregnant, holy crap,” Alex finally broke out of his trance, eyes moving up to Jo’s face and taking in her teary eyes. “Woah hey, why are you crying?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were mad that I didn’t tell you,” Jo dropped her hands and looked to Alex, who still hadn’t moved. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to stress you out.”

Alex moved forward then, wrapping his arms around Jo and pressing his lips against hers, “Hey I’m not mad, I promise. Just a little shocked. I could never be mad about a baby with you, that’s all I’ve been thinking about since we said ‘I do’.”

“Okay, sorry for crying then,” Jo let a laugh out as she leaned her forehead against Alex’s. “Hey, we’re having a baby.”

“We’re having a baby!”

Alex leaned down to kiss Jo once again, her hands looping around his neck as they held their embrace. When they finally pulled away, Jo burst into a fit of laughter, “I can’t believe your mom figured it out before you did.”

“Yeah yeah, tease me about it later,” Alex pulled Jo out of the patient room they’d been in, eyes scanning the halls in search of something. “There’s gotta be an ultrasound machine around here somewhere, I wanna see my baby.”

[regicidal-defenestration]

Ringing in the Year of the Beleaguered Badger

In which Nobby and Colon celebrate the new year with an odd wooden companion

.

"It's looking at me all menacingly, sarge."

"Its not looking at anything, its eyes are painted on."

"Yeah, painted on menacingly."

Nobby and Colon considered the figure in front of them. It was certainly odd - a life sized wooden person, a wide grin and two bright blue eyes painted on its face, wearing an equally bright red uniform, with the occasional brown splotch that Colon was doing his best to not think about.

But it wasn't menacing, Colon was sure about that. It was just a toy owned by some rich nob, or else some sort of art display that pole rats (he was unsure of the exact term) like him weren't supposed to understand. Nothing menacing in the slightest.

Even so, Colon was glad of the window separating him from it.

"It just blinked!" Nobby yelped, hitting Colon in his alarm.

Colon scowled at him. Well - half scowled. Well - shared what may well have been a scared glance with his friend. But there was nothing to be scared of, not at all. It was just a bit creepy.

"You and your imagination, Nobby."

"It did!"

Nobby sounded genuinely shaken, which was worrying. Usually, when someone suddenly moved when they should have been still, it meant an opportunity for Nobby to sell back what he'd just nicked from their pockets. Not… whatever this reaction was.

Turning very deliberately away, Fred leaned against the building's wall. He imagined that he was sat back at his nice warm desk, making plans to go out and celebrate the new year properly, not out on patrol all because Vimes had insisted they go back to their roots as regular old officers. It was-

"It just waved at me Fred."

Colon's thoughts came to a screeching halt.

"How about," he said slowly, "we go back to our roots somewhere else?"

Nobby sagged in relief. And as the two of them made their way down the street, they ignored extremely hard the sound of shattering glass.

*

It was a nice, well lit, and most importantly, empty street, not a weird toy soldier in sight. Colon took his bell - a proper old Watch one, gods this probably hadn't been used in years - and rang it out once, twice, three times.

"Twelve o'clock and all is well!" he called over the loud clangs.

Nobby frowned.

"No it's not."

"Are you disrespecting a superior officer, Nobby?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, sarge. It's just that," he paused to allow Colon to raise an eyebrow, "it's not midnight yet, is it?. It's only half eleven."

Colon paused, took a moment to count on his fingers, then nodded in grudging acknowledgement. He swung the bell again.

"Half past eleven - yes alright no need to look so smug Nobby - and all is still well!"

"No it Isn't!" a third voice piped up, the capitalisation clearly audible.

The two men screamed, grabbing each other instinctively. They then spent an awkwardly silent few minutes trying to pretend like they hadn't just screamed and grabbed each other, and had, in fact, carried off the whole situation with a cool, calm, and collected air. It very nearly worked too.

Nobby was the fastest to regain a sense of composure.

"What d'you mean No it Isn't?" He looked around suspiciously. "Is that a threat?" There didn't look to be hosts of heavily armed thugs waiting in the shadows, but you never knew with these things.

"Oh no, mot At All! What I mean Is, All's not well Because we're Here!" 

The painted smile seemed to broaden.

A pause.

"We?" Colon asked, pointing between him and Nobby.

The Toy Soldier hummed for a good minute. Colon couldn't tell if the consideration on its face was faked, or if it was just Like That.

"Hmm, No, but I Do like your spirit! I'm Talking about Me and my Crew!"

Colon leaned in close to Nobby.

"Let me handle this, eh? Matters of diplomacy like this happen to be my four-tay, you know."

Nobby gave him a Look which was, in his (Colon's) view, was neither nice, nor sufficiently respecting of his (Nobby's) commanding officer. 

"And would you, fine citiz- nutcra- erm-" Colon paused as he scrabbled for a suitably diplomatic term, ignoring Nobby's snickers, "fine being, care to explain who the crew in question is?"

"And are you plannin' any funny business?" Nobby added, not willing to let go of his suspicion yet.

"Well, there's Me! There's Jonny, who is currently Beheaded, Nastya, who has Refused to Set foot on the Disc for Moral Reasons, Raph And Ivy, who are Helping Marius ask that man Vimes out to Dinne-"

"Well your Marius won't have much luck with that," Colon interrupted, undiplomatically. "Sam doesn't swing that way."

There was a moment of silence.

"Fred," Nobby began, putting on his best 'telling a figure of relative authority that they are, actually, spouting ideas that are even more incorrect than that time Aunt June got drunk at the Hogswatch party and began claiming that the world wasn't flat' voice.

"Mr Vimes'as been out for longer than I've known him. And you’ve know him longer than I have."

"But when I've gone about him being all strait-laced - you know how he gets - none of you bastards corrected me did you!"

Nobby was not a book-smart man. If asked what a thesaurus was, he'd probably say some sort of dead lizard. Whilst he didn't know his words though, he did know his friend.

"Fred," he said again, "d'you think strait-laced means a straight person who wears lace up boots?"

Colon opened and shut his mouth a few times, trying and failing to say something.

"Course I don't," he said at last, recovering admirably. "Just, keeping you on your toes."

Spinning to face the Toy Soldier and, he hoped, firmer conversational ground, he added: "Is Sybil aware of your Marius' advances on her husband?"

"Oh most Certainly! She has Even helped Plan Out his Speech!"

"Ah." Nobby nodded thoughtfully. "wuh-luh-wuh muh-luh-muh solidarity."

"Sybil likes women?"

"Course she does sarge. She was engaged to that lady nob, before Sam nat’rally, but they broke it off on account of her, the nob, not liking all them dragons."

"You know a lot of people, Nobby"

"Word gets around."

"Do you, er, have some sort of mailing list then?" Fred was capital-S Straight, but tried not to let that get in the way.

Nobby failed at holding in a snort of laughter.

“A mailing list? Blimey Fred, imagine me getting a Hogswatch card from Vetinari himself. An’ imagine all them just waiting eagerly to get my letter.”

Seeing Colon’s expression, he tried to school his face into a more serious expression, but it didn’t last long.

“Imagine- just imagine a letter showin’ up at the Watch House, well, multiple letters really, cause of the fact you’re the only straight an cis person I can name off the top of me head, after Archchancellor whass’name has an attack of the Genders last month, all them letters with their little rainbow wax sealing stamps-”

Colon cleared his throat loudly. He jerked his head over to where the Toy Soldier was standing, unmoving, unblinking. Creepy bugger, he thought, undimplomatically, but this time he didn’t say it out loud. Character development.

“I’m sure our... friend... here doesn’t need to know, eh, Nobby?”

“On the contrary, I Think it’s Marvellous! A Mailing list, what Fun! Oh, I Do so enjoy visiting you Silly little People, with your silly Little Ideas!”

The words themselves seemed insulting, but the Toy Soldier’s tone was still bright and cheerful. Although...  three consecutive sentences ending with exclamation marks is never a good sign.

“Oh! It’s nearly Midnight now, If you Wanted to ring your Bell Again- oh!” It clapped its hands together excitedly. “Can I Ring it? And say the Thing?”

Without a complaint, Colon handed the bell over. There was probably a Rule about not doing that somewhere, but his mind was still stuck back on Vetinari. Everyone knew the Patrician wore that black ring on his middle finger, of course, but he hadn’t actually thought properly about th-

Nobby’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“You’re slightly staring at it, sarge.”

“Wha-? Yes, of course, go ahead and er, say the Thing, if you want.”

“Twelve O’clock And all is Wel-”

Its final word was drowned out as the city bells began chiming.

Midnight in Ankh-Morpork, and thus, the New Year, was determined largely by consensus, each of the bells chiming slightly out of time with each other. The first to ring belonged to the Fools’ Guild, because there is apparently nothing funnier than getting woken up in the dead of night. The fireworks began as the big brass gong at the Temple of Small Gods rang out, bangs and explosions adding to the chorus of dings, clangs, bongs and jingles. By the time the big rocket exploded purple and red over the sky it was impossible to tell the bells from each other, except for the tongueless and magical bell of Old Tom in the Unseen University clock tower, whose twelve even silences could be heard even over the din.

The high point of the display was, as usual, the Alchemists’ Guild blowing up, this time with an aesthetically pleasing blue fireball.

Nobby whistled in appreciation.

"Happy new year Fred."

"Happy new Nobby. Happy new year Toy Soldier who's still following us around."

"Happy New Year old Chums!"

[authorized-trash]

To Tie a Knot: Chapter 5: Important Meetings in a Coffee Shop Bathroom

Ao3

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Content Warnings:

Self harm, self deprecation, making out, stress, emotional turmoil, elusion to character death, (If anything else needs mentioned tell me)

Chapter Summary:

Damian should know better than to walk into coffee shops when he’s the protagonist of a romance fanfiction smh

Word Count:

3,600+

Note: I posted the last chapter on Ao3 a day or two ago, and it got so many comments so fast I was inspired to write another on. So here is nearly 4k words of >:]. Chapter six is halfway done as well, so please, keep the comments up, I’ve never written so much so fast in my life asdf

-

-

By the time noon had come and gone and Logan had left, the others were restless. Patton was stress baking and Roman was practicing his lines a bit louder than normal. Virgil was nowhere to be seen, most likely hiding in their shared room listening to too-loud music.

Patton kneaded dough between his hands, planning on making bread. One would think he would make cookies or something while stressed, but he found the process of homemade bread and the smell of it baking was much better for calming. 

Over the years he had gotten pretty good actually, won a few dumb little neighborhood competitions with his baking. His soulmates all adored his cooking, Roman had stated one of his favorite things to wake up to was the smell of pie or bread.

Patton let his mind wander while he worked, thinking about his new soulmate. He couldn’t help the wave of anticipation and impatience that hit him when he thought about their meeting. He was just so excited! A large smile stretched across his face, and he did a few happy stomps with his feet.

Roman stopped repeating his lines and looked over to him, a soft smile on his face.

“You okay over there, dear? You’re lucky that bread isn’t alive, you’re beating it quite thoroughly,” Roman said with a teasing tone.

Patton looked up at him, blushing a bit at being caught, “Oh! Yeah of course I’m fine! I’m just overwhelmingly giddy, I guess.”

Roman laughed and crossed the room with a few long strides, grabbing Patton around the waist and setting his chin to rest on the other’s head. He gave a kiss to Patton’s scalp, and Patton giggled and swatted playfully at him.

“Ro stop, I’m trying to cook,” Patton whined, placing the kneaded dough into a bread pan. He leaned back into Roman’s hold either way, looking up at him through his eyelashes.

“Sorry Sweetheart, I simply couldn’t resist,” Roman winked, laughing softly. They stood there for a few moments in silence, swaying slightly.

“Do you think they’ll like my bread?” Patton asked quietly.

“What? Of course! If they don’t I will have to fight them,” Roman said dramatically. Patton chuckled.

“No fighting Roman, everyone has their own tastes.”

“If someone’s taste doesn’t like your bread, they’re wrong. Sorry, I don’t make the rules,” Roman spun Patton and gave him a peck to the lips.

The oven beeped a few times behind them, and Patton started to squirm in Roman’s hold.

“Babe, you gotta let me go so I can cook!” Patton said, squealing as Roman held steadfast, unmoving.

“Nuh uh, you are in the Princey Dungeon of snuggles and cuddles, I’m very sorry Padre, but I simply cannot let go unless you pay bail.”

“Which is?”

“Kiss me.”

Patton didn’t protest as he pressed their lips together. Roman hummed and smiled into the kiss, trailing his hands up Patton’s back and threading his fingers into Patton’s hair. After a few long seconds they parted for air, but Roman didn’t seem to want to stop, and at this point neither did Patton.

Before long Patton was up against the counter, kissing back with fervor as Roman picked his legs up and sat him on the counter. Patton made a small noise into the kiss, arms draped around Roman’s shoulders.

Just as Roman was teasing his hand up and under Patton’s shirt, a gagging noise came from the door.

“Eugh, can ya’ll like, not be horny in the kitchen please? I don’t want you contaminating my bread.”

Roman nearly fell to his ass with how fast he jumped off of Patton, and Patton buried his head in his hands and grumbled something under his breath.

Virgil laughed all the way to the kitchen’s island, wheezing and wiping tears from his eyes.

“You two should see your faces, you would think your parent’s just caught you or somethin’. Calm thyselves.”

Patton just stood silently and went to put the bread in the oven.

“Wait, excuse you. Your bread? No, sorry sis, it’s mine,” Roman said as he brushed himself off.

“Oh god, please don’t call me sis, I’m your boyfriend, that’s weird,” Virgil said, moving to sit himself up onto the counter on the other side of the room.

“Oh,” Patton spoke up suddenly, “Roman, I meant to ask, how’s Remus? You haven’t talked about him in awhile.”

Roman’s brother Remus visited them every holiday. It was getting close to thanksgiving at this point, and they were all looking forward to seeing him.

Roman shrugged, “Don’t know, haven’t talked to him in… a little over a month now?”

“How come?” Patton asked.

“Normally I’m not the one who reaches out to talk, I just haven’t thought about it. And since, ya know, I don’t talk to my parents, it’s easy to lose contact for larger periods of time,” Roman explained, slumping into a chair at the kitchen table. Patton nodded in understanding.

They went back to their routines, this time with both Roman and Virgil on their phones while Patton baked a few more things.

Half an hour went by with little words, just a comfortable silence as they all enjoyed the company.

A sharp and hard tug caught their attention.

“Ow, damnit,” Virgil said, shaking his hand roughly as if it were burned. The other two looking down at their hands in confusion, wincing as their yellow strings gave another sharp and painful tug.

“Language,” Patton chided absentmindedly, then, “Do they want something?”

“I don’t think people yank on their strings that hard in order to get someone’s attention, Dearest,” Roman said, flinching as he bent his finger. It was already sore.

“They’re not trying to take the string off or something, right? That’s impossible, they should know that,” Virgil said shakily, curling in on himself and his hoodie.

“It is. Maybe they’re not thinking clearly?” Roman said, trying to offer an explanation.

Patton pouted, 

“I hope they’re okay.”

-

Damian was not okay.

You wouldn’t be able to tell it, though, with the way he was carrying himself.

His strides were confident, and he held his head high. He tipped his hat at the people who walked by and offered polite hellos. He looked like every bit of a man who was sure of himself.

But he was far from it, really.

If you knew him personally and were looking closely, you could see the way he sometimes fidgeted with his jacket sleeves. You’d notice the slight tremble in his hands, or the way he seemed to run his fingers through his hair too many times. He honestly probably had his hat off more than he had it on, lifting it off of his head as much as he was.

Damian was a nervous wreck, but a nervous wreck who was good at hiding it.

His classes that day were ridiculously stressful, and it didn’t help when every other person exclaimed suddenly when they noticed the shadows of his soulstrings. He would wave them off, or excuse himself. Hell, a few times he even made up what his soulmates were like. He wove tales of wonderful people who had swept him off his feet, if only to appease the asker and get them to stop bugging him.

He had watched earlier that day as the indigo string seemed to detach from the others, just barely heading in a different direction. It was a very slow process, meaning they were probably decently far, but it still scared him.

Were they going to work? Coming to find him? Oh god, what if indigo left the other three because he couldn’t deal with another string showing up? What if Damian was the reason why they broke up?

No, Damian thought to himself with a shake of his head, no that was ridiculous. Really, he needed to stop letting his head go off in random directions, the self deprecation was getting old.

Damian walked up the steps of his apartment building, entering with a nod towards the doorman. The man smiled and waved.

“Heya, DJ,” He greeted. 

“Hello, Larry. How’s the wife?”

“Oh you know her, same old. She’s missed you, you know. You should really come over for some tea sometime soon,” Larry said, opening the door for Damian.

“Sure thing, how does Thursday sound?”

“That would be awesome, see you then, Damian.”

Damian smiled to himself as he entered the elevator to his floor. He let out a shuddery breath. Small talk came to him easily, he was never really introverted to be honest, but that didn’t stop it from being taxing on the days when he really didn’t want to have to see people.

As soon as he crossed the threshold to his apartment, he checked the time. 

Okay, it was a little past five in the afternoon, cool. He figured Remy would be up to go somewhere, if he wasn’t already out with Emile.

He shot him a text, which he got an immediate reply on.

Girl course i wanna hang. Ill be there in half hour, see ya hot stuff xoxo

Damian chuckled to himself. Of course Remy would be the kind of person to still unironically use X’s and O’s.

He double tapped the message to like it, and took off for the restroom. He needed to freshen up before he left for the outside world.

He went ahead and re-brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and washed his face. He really needed some moisturizer for his burns, they were getting a little scratchy around the edges, the sensitive skin looking a little red and agitated. 

By the time he was done toweling himself off, his eyes fell from his face in the mirror to the strings tied neatly around his fingers. He had spent most of the day ignoring them, other than the occasional check-in on Indigo’s progress.

He looked at them for a long while, feeling how they moved. He always found it so fascinating, how sometimes they would be pulled tight and sensitive to any slight movement, and how other times they seemed to pool onto the floor in piles of color. He figured it depended on some kind of need or something, it was always when someone’s emotions were high that the strings seemed to tighten, maybe as a way to aid communication.

Damian just figured it was some weird magicky shit, and didn’t let it bother him too much. He had gotten over the trying to explain the strings stage back in middle school, back when it was just him and green.

Nausea and guilt ate at his insides even thinking about the green string. It hung loosely to the fingers on the hand opposite the new strings, its once brilliant earthy color now a faded grey.

It was so pale and sad looking in comparison to the other brighter strings, and Damian couldn’t help but want to cry again. It was such a lovely color, and he was sure they would have been such a lovely person.

He didn’t even have a name to mourn, a funeral to attend to. Only a sad little frayed string to cry pitifully over.

And that brings up another question, why frayed? Damian hadn’t met anyone who had a dead soulmate that had a frayed string. Sure, others had their colors dulled, but the end looked clipped with scissors. Damian’s looked as if someone had pulled it apart with their teeth.

It wasn’t fair, Damian thought. It wasn’t fair that he got all these questions. It wasn’t even a simple, “oh no, my soulmate is dead, I’m doomed to be lonely and soulless.” No, he had to deal with all these mysteries. Why frayed? Why four others? Why add him to an already complete group? Why not someone else? Why had it been a month, when the average wait on the reassigning was a week? Were the other’s even able to love him like they loved each other? Damian wasn’t paired with someone equally as heartbroken and lonely, he was paired with an already complete soulmate relationship. Was he doomed to be an outcast?

Damian didn’t want this, he didn’t ask for this. 

His emotions were all over the place, but he steeled himself, and with an angry huffed, he grabbed his four strings, and yanked.

White hot, dizzying pain lanced up his arm, and he gave a shout. His vision blanked, and a throbbing headache pounded behind his eyes.

His vision cleared after a while, stars and dots still dancing across his eyes. The pain was so bad, it was nearly incapacitating. 

And in a mix of morbid curiosity and the horrible feeling of self loathing, he yanked again, harder.

He stumbled to the ground, sweat beginning to drip from his forehead. His heart was pounding in his ears, and what sounded like a dull roar caused his eardrums to hurt. Every bone in his body ached, and his arm hurt to move.

Well, he thought, guess they were pretty authentic then, at the very least.

He heard a knock at the door and tripped over himself to get up. He dabbed his face with the towel once again, wincing at the pain in his arms.

By the time he left the bathroom, Remy was already standing inside.

“What on earth were you doing in there, you look awful,” Remy asked, before going a bit pale, “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

“Oh shut it,” Damian snapped, taking his hat off the counter and fitting it back into place.

“So, wanna head out to that coffee shop you like downtown?”

Damian shrugged, “Why not.”

“Sweet, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Damian sighed but laughed at his friend's antics, following him out the door with a fond shake of his head.

The coffee shop was nice. It was small, cozy, and had a nice arrangement of potted plants scattered about. The barista was kind, and pretty cute. They had a cute grungy-emo thing going on. 

Damian had a thing for emos.

He, like normal, had ordered some black coffee with two creams and a sugar, much to Remy’s dismay. Remy had then proceeded to buy some ridiculously over sweetened drink with a stupid name and two muffins to share, much to Damian’s dismay.

“You have got to stop buying food for me Remy, I’m a grown man, I can pay for myself.”

“I offered. Besides, you need your money for your hobbies.”

“What hobbies?” Damian laughed, smiling despite himself.

“I don’t know, your music. You play the clarinet, right?”

“Flute, actually,” Said Damian, rolling his eyes, “And it’s not a hobby. Band was the only reason I managed to get into college. You know this, why are you asking?”

It was Remy’s turn to roll his eyes, “Small talk, babes.”

Damian was so caught up in their conversation he missed as the indigo string tied to his finger moved at a rate much, much faster than earlier that day.

“Mhmm, small talk about something we are both familiar with?”

“I don’t know, you band nerds seem to like to talk about band, despite making sure it is known that it is hell on earth,” Remy laughed, “Why don’t you, I don’t know, tell one of those ‘this one time at band camp-’ stories, babes?”

“Uh huh, and which one haven’t you heard?” Damian did in fact have a lot of stories, as every band kid tended to, but he was almost certain Remy had heard every one three times. It was obviously his best friend was just trying to cheer him up, and honestly? Damian really appreciated it.

“I don’t know, what about the one time you passed out on field and went to the hospital for a broken rib after being stepped on?” Remy’s grin was shit-eating, and Damian felt his face turn a deep crimson.

“We agreed not to talk about that,” he hissed, attempting to hide his face behind his coffee as he took a sip.

Remy shook his head as he laughed, before standing up.

“I’m heading to the restroom babes, try not to miss me too much.”

Damian sighed and sat back in his chair as Remy left, closing his eyes and smiling to himself. He was enjoying himself, this was nice. Remy was an awesome friend and really helped Damian to forget all about his stupid soulmates.

If all went Damian’s way, he wouldn’t have to deal with soulmates for the rest of the day.

Of course, knowing how fate liked to fuck him over, that isn’t what happened.

-

Logan had had an exhausting day, and he was ready to get it over with. He wanted nothing more than to go home to his soulmates and curl up against them, but he knew he couldn’t. He had been sentenced to sleeping in a cold hotel bed, alone.

The day had started well, with breakfast with his beloveds and a few kisses to his cheek, and a few kisses he returned. He had left with a small smile on his face.

But his good mood had slowly disappeared as the day wore on, as no sign of his other soulmate was to be found. The string slowly started to move more and more as he was sure he was getting closer, but the direction it was in was so vague, he could only hope he was going the right way as he drove.

Honestly, he didn’t know why some machine to find them hadn’t been invented yet. Surely there was some way to get some magnetic something or other to pick up on soulstrings, and then lead you there with a convenient little GPS voice.

But nope, the stupid strings were too stubborn to be beat. Everyone had just accepted them as immovable magic and was done with it.

Everyone including Logan, but he still felt like he was allowed to complain about that fact.

It was a little past six in the evening at this point, and the sky was beginning to darken considerably. Logan could feel his body getting heavier, but wasn’t quite tired enough to stop yet. 

He didn’t think his perception skills were too bad, surely he had a few more hours left in him.

That was probably a bad judgement call, as they were apparently bad enough to not notice how fast the string on his finger moved as he turned the corner into coffee shop parking lot.

He locked his car as he stepped away from it, and entered the building. He took a right to the restroom, wanting to wash his hands before doing anything else, not enjoying the feeling of sweaty driving palms. 

He heard the door behind him open, and looked up to see a man wearing sunglasses (indoors?) walk in.

“‘Sup Babes,” the man said, and Logan lifted an eyebrow in confusion.

“Babes? I’m sorry, do I know you?”

The man laughed, “Nope, you just look like someone who would be fun to piss off by calling them babes. For real though, why are you wearing a necktie in a coffee shop?”

“Plenty of people wear neckties in a coffee shop,” Logan answered, fixing his tie with an affronted look. The other man just laughed, running a hand through his hair.

“The name’s Remy,” The man said, offering his hand to shake. Logan took it, if with a little hesitance and confusion.

“Logan.” Logan responded. Remy nodded, going to turn around and leave, probably deterred from using the restroom in what would now be an awkward situation. He stopped suddenly, eyes going wide from behind his sunglasses.

“You have four soulmates?” He said, looking at the slight shadow cast on the tiled floor.

“Yes,” Logan answered, easily. Remy was not the first one to ask that today. There was the woman at the gas station, and the man walking his dog outside of the Ihop. It was a little disorienting hearing four instead of three, but whatever.

“You here with someone? One of your strings seems to be pointing in a weird direction,” Remy commented, nodding down at the shadow heading straight out the bathroom door. Logan looked down hurriedly, just now noticing the yellow string that was pulled tight.

“I- no I’m not. I’ve actually been looking for our fourth soulmate all day,” Logan didn’t take his eyes off the string, “In fact, it only appeared recently. Me and my other soulmates decided it best to find them as soon as possible.

After a few more minutes of staring wide eyed at his yellow string, he looked up at Remy. He, once again, looked confused at the wide smile that had spread across Remy’s face. The sunglasses clad man grabbed Logan by the hand and tugged him towards the door.

“Come on, there’s someone you need to meet.”

Logan allowed himself to be pulled back into the main part of the coffee shop and led in the direction of a booth in the back. He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when he caught sight of the man seated at the table.

“Damian, babes, you will not fucking believe who I just ran into,” Remy exclaimed. The man, Damian, turned around to face them.

The two men locked eyes, and Logan felt his heart hammering in his chest, that familiar yet foreign feeling of something clicking into place in his chest was present for the fourth time in his life, and he was almost certain he had never been happier.

Logan was at a loss for words for one of the few times in his life.

“Uhm, hello?”

-

-

Taglist in reblog

[harringrovetrashrat]

I have an idea if you're interested in hearing about it!❤ Some pre relationship angst, I think. Basically Steve is driving home late one night in the pouring rain and hits a disassociating Billy with his car and finds himself trying to help because he's a nice guy. Just an idea, though!

This one stumped me a bit!  Whoever is monitoring my google searches is gonna see a lot of ‘what’s it like to get hit by a car?’, ‘hit by car’, ‘pedestrian hit by car’ and maybe think I did a hit and run, but hey whatever.

I edited the prompt a smidge cuz like,, I didn’t want Billy to get like hit hit with the car, but still like, enough that shit happened??  I def messed around a bit, and this ended up more Steve centric than I thought it would, but hey it is what it is.

Anywhoooo, hope you enjoy! (Fic under the cut)

--

Steve was driving aimlessly, unable to sleep.  Again.  Ever since Star Court, almost a year ago now, and honestly since the tunnels, he’d been fucking haunted any time he closed his eyes.  The sounds of the demodogs, the sound of the Flayer, the fucking smell.  He couldn’t escape it.

So now he drove.  Through Hawkins, around Hawkins, outside of Hawkins, as far as he could go.  Steve just drove.  Tonight, he was driving around town, just watching the shadows.  The windows were down, letting the warm, humid summer air in.  He could turn on his A/C, but it was nice feeling the heat.  Especially after--

Something moved in front of his car and he slammed on the breaks.  He jerked to a stop with a gasped what the fuck, but there was an undeniable, though small, thump.  Then there was a louder thump when the shadow slammed something on the hood of the beamer.

Steve felt like he might throw up.

He got out of the car on shaky legs, his stomach rolling, and made his way to the front.  When he saw what the shadow was, Steve was sure he was hallucinating.

Billy Hargrove stood there, unmoving, unblinking, just staring at where he had his hands placed on the hood of Steve’s car.

“Oh my god what?” Steve breathed, rubbing at his eyes.  Billy didn’t respond, just turned his head and looked at Steve, eyes blank.

The last time he had seen Billy was when he helped bring him home from the hospital.  His father hadn’t offered and, apparently, hadn’t told Max and Susan that Billy was going to be released.  So the hospital had called, Max had picked up, and had then called Steve, all anger and tears.  And, well, Billy had saved them.  Had apparently been really quiet and withdrawn and Max was adamant that he was way less of an asshole.  And he had been, but it was because he wasn’t talking.  He’d grumbled a thanks to Steve, had responded to Max with short and abrupt sentences, but other than that, spent his time looking out the window.  It was weird and had made Steve’s stomach twist.

Billy’s hair was longer now than it had been.  Still short, but it was starting to curl around his ears, all soft and cherubic.  He was still thin and hunched over, taking up as little space as he could.  But his eyes--

His eyes looked empty, almost.  Like he was lost inside himself.

“Billy?” Steve tried, nervous to move closer.  Because the Flayer was gone, they knew that, but Billy was being weird.  Once again, he didn’t respond, just kind of stared at Steve.  They stared at each other for a moment before Steve moved slightly closer.  Billy didn’t react.  “Hey are you okay?” He reached out, touching the back of his palm to Billy’s forehead instinctively.

“Sorry,” Billy said, voice shaky and rough, like he didn’t use it a lot.  Or like he had been yelling.  Steve wasn’t sure if there was a better option between the two.

“What?” Steve shook his head.  “I’m the one who hit you with my car-- Shit are you okay?!” He gave Billy a once over, grabbing at him to feel for soft spots.  Billy let him, body slightly limp.  “Does this hurt?” Steve asked, pressing by Billy’s hip.  Billy shook his head.  “This?” Steve tried again, this time by his ribs.  There were no tears in Billy’s clothes, so he wasn’t even sure where he had been hit.

“Can’t feel it,” Billy murmured, voice flat.  Steve looked up, hands wrapped around Billy’s rib cage.

“Like it’s gone numb or…?”

“Can’t feel anything,” was the response.  Steve pulled away, furrowing his brow.  He wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” Billy shook his head.  “Home?” Billy made a strange choking sound and shook his head more aggressively.  It was the most he’d responded to Steve the whole time.  Steve bit his lip, not sure what to do.  “The police?” Billy crumpled a little, using the car to keep himself upright.  Instinctively, Steve reached out to help.  “Whoa!  Okay,” he said, voice tight, “No police.  You can’t stay out here, dude.”

“Nowhere else,” Billy replied.  Something uncomfortable tightened in Steve’s chest.

“We’ll go to my place.” The only response he got was a shrug, which was better than nothing, so Steve helped haul Billy, who was still staring blankly ahead and moving limply, into the car.

As he drove, Steve wondered why Billy was out at this time of night.  It was almost 2 now, and Billy was dressed in flannel pajama pants and a ratty old UC Berkeley sweater.  A look for a night in, not wandering the streets.  Steve’s fingers tapped on his thigh as he drove, wanting to ask questions, but not sure that Billy would answer.  He hadn’t stopped staring out the front window, eyes and face blank, like he was there, physically, but far away mentally.  It was so far away from the Billy Steve had known, he was almost like a different person.  A shell of who he was.

When they arrived at his house, Steve helped Billy out of the car.  Billy seemed to have retreated more into himself, which was kind of the opposite of what Steve was going for, so he did what he did best.  He rambled.

“I should have been paying more attention to the road, but I mean, it’s past midnight in Hawkins.  I didn’t think anyone would be out there.” Billy didn’t respond, just followed Steve inside his house.  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?  I hit you with my car, man.  I guess it wasn’t hard since you were still upright but, fuck.” Steve gasped a little for air, the weight of the situation starting to crash on him.  “I’m so sorry,” he wheezed, looking into Billy’s eyes.  Something flickered in Billy’s gaze and his eyes narrowed a little in thought.  “I’m sorry I hit you with my car.  Like, twice now, oh my god.”

“It’s,” Billy paused, looking uncertain, “Okay.” Steve gave him an incredulous look.

“It’s not okay.  It’s not.” Billy didn’t respond to that, looking uncomfortable.  Neither of them spoke, just stood awkwardly in the main hall.

“Am I--” Billy said, voice cutting through the silence, “Am I dreaming?” Steve raised a brow.

“Huh?  No?” Billy’s face crumpled a little and he leaned heavily against Steve’s wall, sliding down to the floor.  “Billy?”

“I know I’m dreaming.  None of this is real.” His voice was stronger now, but still shaky.  Panic formed in Steve’s gut.  He wasn’t a doctor, but this didn’t seem normal.  Didn’t seem right.

“Hey, hey,” Steve said, voice soft and gentle.  “This is real.  I’m right here in front of you.” Billy shook his head and clenched his eyes shut.  “I am,” Steve insisted.

“That’s why it’s not real,” Billy said, voice cracking.  “You’re never around anywhere else.” Steve suddenly felt guilty and confused.  It wasn’t like they had been friends before, but it wasn’t like Steve didn’t also owe his life to Billy.  He could have said thank you, at least.  But it was confusing, the way Billy said it.  Like Steve was often around in his dreams.

He tucked that away for later; the night had been exciting enough.

“I never said it, but thank you, Billy.” Blue eyes locked onto his.  “Those kids wouldn’t be alive without you and you,” he let out a sad laugh, “You didn’t get anything for it.” He slid down next to Billy, not looking at him.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t know what I expected after you recovered.  We didn’t exactly part on good terms.  But I should have come to thank you, regardless.” When he looked at Billy, he was squinting at him, confused.  “What?”

“That’s not what you usually say,” he replied.  He blinked once, twice, then rapidly for a moment, almost like waking up.  For what felt like the first time tonight, he focused on Steve.  “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we?” Steve furrowed his brow.

“My house.”

“Why?”

“What-- Why?” Steve spluttered.  Billy watched him carefully before flushing and looking away.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“Billy?” Steve said, tilting his head.

“I sometimes,” he licked his lips, “The doctors call it, dissociating.” He picked at the frayed sleeve of his hoodie.  “I kind of disconnect from reality for a bit,” he said, stating it like he was reading it off a sheet of paper, memorized in word only.  “Usually when I, well, come back, I don’t remember it.” He shifted and winced, hissing in pain.  “Fuck, why does my leg fucking hurt?” Steve flushed and reached for his pants.  “Harrington?” Billy asked, voice creeping up in pitch.  Steve checked his calf and saw the beginnings of a bruise at the bottom of Billy’s knee.

“I hit you with my car.  You didn’t even feel it?” It made sense, but fuck.

“I don’t always feel things when I’m out of it,” Billy replied, voice tight.  Steve gently touched the bruise around his knee and heard Billy exhale sharply through his nose.

“Does that hurt?” Steve looked up, face drawn together with concern, but Billy didn’t look like he was in pain.  Maybe like he was freaking out a bit.

“You hit me with your car?” Billy asked, his voice still tight and stressed.  He was staring at where Steve still had his hand cupped around his knee.  Steve pulled back with a blush.

“Yeah, uh, you kinda came outta the shadows and I didn’t break quite it time.” He rubbed the back of his head.  “Did, uh, did you want me to call the cops now?  You didn’t earlier when I asked, but I mean obviously--”

“No,” Billy replied sadly with a shake of his head.  “I’ve had worse.  I’ll be fine.  I mean,” he chuckled humorlessly, “What are they gonna do?” Steve furrowed his brow, unable to answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Harrington,” Billy said, voice laced with exhaustion.  “No one is gonna care.  I’m still alive,” and wow did he sound unhappy about that, “So what is there to do?”

“I don’t-- I mean--”

“Lemme get outta your hair.” Billy began to stand, wincing when his movements were stiffer than expected.  Steve helped him up, grabbing his elbow, but didn’t move away and didn’t let go.

“You said you had nowhere else to go,” Steve whispered.  Billy paled and licked his lips.  “Stay.” Unsure ice blue eyes locked onto his and it made Steve’s breath hitch.  Neither of them spoke, just staring into each other’s eyes.

It wasn’t the first time Steve had noticed how beautiful Billy was, how handsome, but it was the first time he’d been almost overwhelmed by it.  Taken in by his eyes, the cut of his jaw, the very small smattering of freckles.  Steve realized he missed seeing them fan across Billy’s nose, skin kissed by the sun.

“Okay,” Billy replied, voice hoarse.  “Okay.”

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 61: In the Company of Blades

In which Keith has friends, Lance gets to show off, and Shiro wants Adam to step on him

First  Previous  Next

“Anyway, that’s where we are right now. One thing at a time, and I will come up with a meal plan, just in case,” Thace says. They’re rushing through hallways to get to the training yards.

“Thanks.” Keith twists his hair into a large knot on the back of his head, keeping it in place with a pin. “And thanks for the pin.”

“No problem. I just hope you don’t get impaled through your skull.”

“Hasn’t happened yet. Miraculously. We are very late.” Which means probing questions from one Altean, and a probing stare from another. One, Keith can’t say no to -because he’s soft- and the other, Keith is too scared to lie to.

“Fortunately, it’s easy to blame your health. So long as we can keep Lance’s mouth shut.”

“Right...” Keith is about to explain, but Thace's exasperated groan tells him he doesn't have to.

The training grounds are divided into a series of yards, with walls erected for privacy and so no one takes up too much space. Some are large, some small, some flat, some full of obstacles and ground cover, climbing walls, chasms, even stands of trees. There are even places to practice elk-riding, a means of preserving the ancient history of the mounted warriors of old. The Marmora have more respect for tradition than one might think.

When Thace and Keith arrive, they’re beholden to quite the spectacle. Adam, wielding a polearm, squaring off with one of Kolivan’s two kits, Antok. Regris, his other kit, is standing next to his father. Both are grown, but were raised by the Blades, and remain quite close to their sire.

Regris apparently got the good end of the stick, because Antok is getting his ass kicked by the smaller Altean. Adam’s polearm is indeed double-ended, this one equipped with glaives, which he’s currently using to repel Antok. The Altean is also wearing gauntlets with small blades attached, good for slashing throats if an enemy gets too close. Keith imagines that they also discourage grappling.

It’s strange, but Keith has never once in his life thought of Adam as a warrior. He’s always the behind-the-scenes man, and battle tends to be so upfront and personal. Seems Keith was wrong, because Adam is good. He’s fast, too, keeping up with Antok’s limbs, which includes an incredibly mobile tail.

Shiro seems to be enjoying the view, watching the fierce-eyed Altean swing his polearm like it’s a toothpick. A very long, dangerous toothpick. “That’s literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Gross.” Keith shoves his brother away.

“I want him to impale me,” the larger Galra sighs.

“You’re a pervert.”

“I concur with Keith,” Thace murmurs.

“Yeah? Well neither of you gets an opinion because you were both late.”

“Health thing,” Keith murmurs. “Where’s Lance?”

“Three yards down, showing off his marksmanship skills. Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing at all,” Keith murmurs. “I just had a few questions.”

“Ah.” Shiro shifts awkwardly. They’re still a bit uncomfortable, despite putting their disagreement behind them, and being otherwise normal with each other. “Listen.”

The fact that Shiro bothers to turn away from Adam’s totally-not-an-exhibition is a contributing factor as to why Keith actually does choose to listen to his brother’s opinion.

“I’m here for you. No matter what. Know that.”

Keith smiles. That sounds like his brother. “ I know. Thanks. I’ll let you know if I need you. Or Lance will let you know because I refuse to ask you for help.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Adam finally manages to disarm Antok, spinning his polearm and holding it behind his back.

“Well, Remind me never to push Adam over the edge. I’m gonna go see what Lance is up to.”

“You do that,” Shiro murmurs. “I’m gonna go find a deserted hallway and bring your attendant with me.”

“Have fun. Pervert.”

“I will, thanks.”

Rolling his eyes, Keith trots over to the other field, curious to see what Lance has got up to. Thace hurries right behind him, scanning the facility. “Where the fuck is my mate?”

“Who cares about your mate? Where’s- mine…”

As it turns out, Keith’s mate is firing arrows from the back of a galloping elk. And every shot is perfect. He’s also shirtless, which is really great, but kind of gross because he’s doing that weird ‘sweating’ thing that Alteans do, where they get all wet and slippery. Why can’t they just pant to cool off like a normal species?

But whatever. It’s still incredibly impressive. Especially since the targets, little floating spheres, are both moving and firing at him. And it’s nice to see Lance in his element. He’s got a borrowed bow in one hand, a couple arrows between the fingers of the other, another between his grinning teeth.

“Good to know your chosen mate isn’t entirely useless,” a gruff voice murmurs from behind. Kolivan’s followed them from the other field. “Wasn’t sure about him when Shirogane came back with a report on his swordsmanship. He’s actually an incredible shot.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty great.”

The only thing better is the way Lance’s face brightens when they make eye contact. He removes the arrow from his mouth. “Hey, beloved! See something you like?”

“Hm. Not sure. You should go around again so I can decide.” Keith’s smirk morphs into a grin. “I take it you're enjoying yourself?”

“I am kicking ass! This is so much fun! Can’t believe I’ve never tried this before! Also, this is Bruna, and I love her.”

Keith smiles as Lance hangs his bow from the elk’s saddle, stroking the doe’s soft, red fur. “You know she’s carnivorous, right?”

“All close friends have their points of contention, and admittedly her terrifying teeth are… one of those things, but she’s also loyal, and fast, and very sweet.”

Keith eyes the elk skeptically, gaze lingering on her four sharpened antlers crowning her head and the filed horns protruding from her face. “This sharp, vicious creature is your friend?”

“Bruna will be loved and adored by yours truly all the days of her life.”

“Okay. Good luck convincing your father to let you bring her home.”

“Oh, I don’t have to convince either of my parents of anything. I just have to convince you.”

Keith stares down the hopeful look in his ridiculous elk-loving husband’s face. He’s thoroughly unmoved by those large, pleading, blue-and-pink eyes. Completely unswayed… Except… “If you’re getting one, I should get one too. It will give us an excuse to spend time together without being buried in tablets.”

“See, this is why I love you.”

“I love you too. Now shoot some more arrows so I can watch.”

“Okay, should I put my shirt back on, or-”

“No, it’s fine.” A sly smile. “You can keep it off if you like.”

Lance quirks an eyebrow before lifting his bow again -Does he have to show off that he can ride with no hands?- and preparing to continue his practice.

“When you’re done flirting,” Kolivan mutters. “Your mother is waiting to kick your ass.”

“Yeah, okay.” Keith looks around. “Where did Thace go?”

“I dunno. Probably to stick his tongue in Ulaz’ mouth.” Kolivan sighs, leading him to yet another training room. “I’d been counting on you to be the only one of these idiots to keep it in their pants.”

“What about your sons?”

“Pfft. Found mates while you were gone. They’re always… visiting.”

“Gross… Well, I promise never to visit you.”

The Galra chuckle. Kolivan never really has a lot to say, but what he does have to say is either incredibly serious or mildly amusing. He’s an acquired taste. One that Keith has acquired in order to survive. Kolivan’s also his mother’s closest companion, so he insists on their getting along, despite what one might call ‘creative differences’ when it comes to leadership roles.

Essentially, Kolivan’s an unapologetic, amazingly blunt asshole and Keith tries his best to be more… constructive.

“It’s about time you showed up.”

“Hey, Mom. Sorry. I stopped by the med ward.”

“Okay.” She goes easily, drawing her sword. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

That’s what Keith loves about his mother: the understanding. For only having known each other for two years, they share so much: a loss, a condition, a passion for the personal freedoms that their rulers restrict until they can barely breathe.

But Keith and his mother find a way. They dig their roots into unwelcoming ground. They learn to thrive. They draw breath.

And swords. Krolia has Keith panting in minutes, forcing him to the brink of his skills. He really is out of shape, but he’s missed this. He’s missed this challenge, this push, this direct, up-front, physical confrontation where no one is screaming, or complaining, and there’s no stack of work staring at him from behind another stack of work. Just him, trying his damndest to beat the crap out of someone who can actually match with him.

And, surprisingly, he’s doing well. His stamina and strength have taken a hit, but he’s picked up forms and techniques on Altea that give him an edge.

The Galra know how an Altean fights, but Keith knows how they think, why they make the choices they do. Their aim isn’t disarming or killing an enemy. A Galra's aim is to defeat the enemy, to beat them into submission until the ground beneath thier boots is painted red. An Altean’s aim is to make it past the enemy toward a larger goal, and do it as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Krolia isn’t his enemy. She’s just in the way. So, dodging a slash of Krolia’s sword, Keith slips past his mother, elbowing her in the kidney as he darts past. Krolia doesn’t flinch, even as she turns to stare at her son, but nobody can fully brush off a hit to the kidney, and she lowers her sword, panting her way through the pain since she has the option.

“What was that?” she asks.

“I applied a different philosophy. In a mission, you wouldn’t be my target, and I saw no reason to waste my time dispatching you.” Keith shrugs. “Why bother?”

“Because I could have gathered information on you-”

“You didn’t. In this scenario, you, an unnamed, random assailant, are not worth killing, and I have a different mission.”

“And what might that mission be?”

“I…” Keith pauses. “I hadn’t thought that far. I just wanted to show off.”

“Clearly.” Krolia looks her son up and down, amused. “I don’t understand, but you seem to think you’ve achieved something, so-”

“HA!!!”

“AHhhhhh!!!”

“-So what the fuck was that?” Krolia growls, adjusting her grip on her sword.

“I’m not sure, but that was Lance and Adam, so something’s probably being destroyed.” Keith sighs, heading back to Lance’s field. “Welcome to my life.”

Lance is indeed messing around with Adam, wielding a broadsword with an adequate amount of skill -a miracle, honestly, and one courtesy of Keith- while Adam comes at him with his polearm.

From behind the fighting idiots, Shiro grins at him, notching his head at Lance. Keith presses his lips together to hide his smile, ducking his head. He knows he’s doing a good job, but to have someone else say it means a lot.

“I thought you said he didn’t have any skills,” Krolia murmurs, watching the Alteans go back and forth.

“That’s what I thought.” Keith lifts his gaze back to his chosen mate, the glint in his eyes as he experiments with the sword in his hand, figuring out how to make it more effective against Adam’s chosen weapon. “But I was wrong. He just needed some more one-on-one coaching. He’s typically quite capable on his own, but always better when he’s working with others. He’s a people person.”

“That is one of the many, many reasons I don’t understand why you love that little creature,” Krolia murmurs.

“He’s a good buffer. He does all the talking, and I just stand there and look pretty.”

That’s not entirely true, less so as time goes on, but for some reason, Keith doesn’t want to share all that much about his life on Altea. It almost feels too personal, like he’s not ready to share his experiences with anyone yet.

“Hm, I’d think looking pretty would be his job,” Thace teases, clinging to Ulaz’ waist. Ulaz himself only nods, a more quiet kind of friendly than his mate, but friendly all the same. His fondness for Keith is indicated by a softened eyebrow, rather than a smile.

“No, but he does it exceptionally well.”

The corner of Ulaz’ mouth quirks. “Perhaps you can both come over to our place tomorrow and look pretty around our table. The kits want to see you, Mashan in particular. Besides, the hunting party returns tomorrow. A little lizard told me that they slew a pack of vakalt. Herdsmen are coming up, too. We can celebrate together, maybe put a few of them up at our den for the night. Get in a few good stories. Also, be forewarned, Lotor wants to speak to Lance outside the castle, so he may 'spontaneously decide to visit'.”

Keith nods. He watches Lance and Adam spar, glancing to his littermate across the yard. So far, his companions have been more than agreeable concerning the Galra way of life. Lance, at least, will enjoy the experience, and Adam will enjoy a chance to crawl all over Shiro. Maybe he’ll even be able to drag Pidge out of their closet. It’ll be nice.

“Sure. We’ll come.” Keith smiles. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Nonsense!” Thace claps him on the shoulder. “You’ll always be one of us, Keith, and you’re always welcome in our home. You, and that Altean of yours.”

“Thanks, guys. I really appreciate that.”

He does. He’s glad that he still has a place here, even if it’s no longer his only home.

[maxbegone]

@onwardandawesomer blessed us with this post a few weeks ago and I couldn’t stop thinking about Patrick’s guitar sitting in the background during the barbecue. 

So I wrote a coda to the episode, because when presented with an idea and an opportunity, you take it. I literally tagged my reblog with “fucker i have an idea”

--

A heavy knock on the front door startles Patrick from where he’s laying on his bed. 

He’s been there for the last hour, staring at the ceiling, unmoving. He ruined the most important and pivotal relationship he’s ever had. If David didn’t trust him again, Patrick wouldn’t blame him.

The knock comes again, somehow harder this time. Ray must not have gotten home yet.

Patrick makes his way downstairs, stepping around the camera tripod that Ray never put away after a session this afternoon. The knock comes one last time as he opens the door.

“You forgot your guitar at the motel.”

Oh. He forgot about that.

Stevie’s standing there, a little closed-off, as she thrusts his guitar case into his hands.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t smash it to pieces.”

He mutters out, “Thanks.”

Neither of them say anything for a drawn-out moment. Patrick stares at his feet awkwardly.

Finally, Stevie turns to make her way back down the porch steps and says, “Have a good night.”

“I’m sorry.”

She stops. Patrick sets his case down and steps outside, closing the door behind him. The sun is just setting, and it’s gotten cooler out. He wishes, briefly, that he was wearing a hoodie over his t-shirt.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me.” Stevie crosses her arms.

“I know that, I just…”

“Right now, according to Alexis, David is sitting alone in his room with the lights out and the TV blaring. I’m assuming he has a few cartons of ice cream to hold him over, but I should probably drop off a few more. Maybe some M&Ms or something, too. So I’m going to go attempt to check up on him.”

“Okay,” he nods, but Stevie doesn’t move.

“Give him some time.” She isn’t mad, which kind of surprises Patrick. Stevie’s stoic and honest, but understanding. He feels like he doesn’t deserve that.

She continues, “He’ll come around eventually, but you two need to talk it out.”

Patrick shoves his hands into his pockets. “I know.”

Stevie shakes her head. “Why didn’t you tell him?” She asks.

“Because I didn’t want to ruin what we had. Because I was scared.”

“What, did you think he wouldn’t understand if you two just talked about it? Because if that’s it, Patrick, then you don’t know David Rose.”

“I’ve never been with a guy before, Stevie-“

“-Okay-“

“-and I’ve never been with anyone that makes me feel like this. I thought I had, you know, with Rachel. But clearly that wasn’t it.” Patrick moves to lean on the porch banister. “We danced around a lot of issues for awhile,” he continues. “We just got comfortable with each other, and eventually it stopped feeling right. Maybe not to her, but to me. I know that’s not an excuse, for why I never said anything. But like I said, I was scared.”

Stevie doesn’t say anything. She’s just staring at him, urging Patrick silently to continue.

So he does. “David’s good. He’s eccentric, sure, but…I feel at peace when I’m with him.”

“So tell him that.” The response is abrupt, sharp. “David has been used and reused his whole life by garbage people-“

“Stevie, that’s not my intention and you know it.” It stings a bit, having to reiterate that. It makes him grip hard on the banister, his knuckles going white.

“I know it’s not. But I’ve seen David with other people. I saw how he was when that Raine guy came into town to take photos of Mrs. Rose. David shrunk, Patrick. He completely shrunk into how he probably was before he moved her. I didn’t like seeing him like that.

“I’ve heard stories from him and his sister. It took a lot to get it out of him. Not that I pushed ever, but there were times where we’d get really high and it all just…came out.”

Patrick smiles weakly. “He trusts you.”

“He trusts you, too,” she returns. “He’s really different with you. He smiles a lot more now than he ever has. Mr. Rose even said it to me last week when he wasn’t around.”

“Look,” she continues with a sigh. “you’re good for him. And I like this whole thing for him. You, I mean. In the years that I’ve known him, I’ve never seen David this comfortable and happy with anybody. Not even me. And do you know why that is? It’s because you’re kind to him, and teasing, and you’re gentle. God, sometimes the two of you make me want to throw up.”

He laughs quietly at that, and when he looks over Stevie’s expression has softened.

“Patrick, you show David that he doesn’t need to hide himself or feel like he needs to prove anything to you. You’ve accepted him for who he is. Weird outbursts, unnecessary aversions and all.”

Patrick takes a shaky inhale. He wants to cry, and he might, honestly, but not in front of Stevie.

She shakes her keys a bit and pushes hard against his shoulder. It knocks him off-balance. “I need to go check on my friend now.”

As she’s walking away back facing him, she adds, “Make things right, Patrick.”

He watches as she drives off, leaving him to stand in a pool of white-yellow porch light to think.