#i also nearly choked our friend when she tried to hug me without asking cause i panicked 😭 mb

[ericlovessharks]

enemyship ended with nick now i hate alan 💪

[stariwrites]

Part One

Red: An Underground Hero Deku x Crime lord fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI or else I’ll revoke your kneecaps

Author’s Note: All characters are aged up and this fic is a monstrosity so I figured I’d split it up into two parts this is part one and I’ll link part 2 as well when I post it

Tw: fem dom, corruption kink, praise kink, biting/marking, club setting, dry humping, slight choking, alcohol is mentioned (Izuku doesn’t drink it) use of the pet name baby boy, semi public sex

Thank you to @chaos-night for beta reading, I appreciate it!!

For @yixxes I hope you like it!!

Do not repost or share

“None are known to be good, till they have an opportunity to be bad”-Benjamin Whichcote

Summary: From the day you laid your eyes on Izuku Midoriya you knew you were going to be drawn to him. 

From the day you laid your eyes on Izuku Midoriya you knew you were going to be drawn to him. There was something about the way the college student stood in front of you with his arms drawn into himself as if he shrank far enough he would disappear. You couldn’t help but smile softly at him. 

The man in front of you was impressive to say the least even though he didn’t look it. He was able to track your group for days without your people even knowing. He documented everything in notebooks he carried with him. You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed the more he stared at you. He was trembling slightly, but his eyes never wavered. They held a fire behind them, one that you couldn’t even begin to describe. 

“Midoriya, right?” you asked, folding your hands in front of yourself.

“What do you want with me.” 

It wasn’t a question. Part of you grinned at the challenge. You had to give him credit, his voice only shook a small amount. Anybody else wouldn’t have been able to have the courage to do so, much less to you. 

Standing up from your chair, you signaled to the guards on either side of the door to stand down when they tried to move closer, weapons raised. 

“Do you know who we are?” you asked peering down at the streets below you. All Might was battling a water quirk user. You scowled at the scene before you, it was only a matter of time before he beat them to a pulp. 

“I know,” he said slowly in an attempt to keep his voice level, “that you’re an organization dedicated to uprooting false heroes.” 

Without turning around you gestured for him to continue. You watched his reflection in the window, he took a deep breath almost willing himself to talk once more. 

“You took Endeavor down and made a deal with Stain.”

“Very good,” you clapped, turning back around to face him. He was focused entirely on you. ”Now do you know who I am?” 

He didn’t hesitate, “The Woman in Red, heroes and villains alike haven’t been able to catch you. Nobody knows what your quirk is or if you even have one.”

You nodded to yourself, he showed promise. If you could use it to your advantage there would be no way your plan would fail. With his help you could uproot the fakest hero of them all.

“Tell me, what do you think of us Midoriya?”

It took him a couple of seconds to register what you said judging by the way his green eyes were transfixed on the destroyed All Might poster off to the side of the room. 

“A reminder,” he jumped at the sound of your voice while his eyes fixed themselves onto you. “All Might isn’t the hero that everybody believes he is,” you watched his eyes widen at your words. Part you assumed it was from shock at the way you said them so carelessly, but there was something else there. It was swimming under the surface almost begging to be unleashed.

Before you could place it, he coughed and straightened his posture. He could’ve looked confident when he stood like that if he didn’t shrink into himself at the last moment. With the proper training he’d stand to his full size without feeling insecure.

“Why am I here?” his voice was softer than before, concealed. It made a vicious smirk cross onto your face. You couldn’t wait to help him unlock his true potential. The thought alone almost had you pouncing on him, but you refrained. You wouldn’t scare him away just yet.

You moved closer to him, allowing your nails to drift across the wood over your desk before using one of them to tilt Midoriya’s face closer to yours. He didn’t pull away.

“Because, Izuku Midoriya,” you refused to leave his gaze, “I want you to join Chimera.”

He gulped at the proximity, “And if I refuse?” 

You couldn’t help the breathless laugh that escaped your lips. He was too cute for his own good. You flicked your eyes to his before locking them on his lips. 

“Then, I guess I’ll just have to find a way to persuade you,” you emphasized the words by moving closer until your lips brushed against his. You watched as he unconsciously closed his eyes and leaned into it, but before your lips fully touched you turned towards the door. 

You didn’t miss the pout that crossed onto his face when you broke away, but he missed the sadistic smile you wore as you gestured for the guards to file out. All you received in return was a nod from them until they headed out the door. 

When it was your turn you held the door open, but before leaving you met his gaze one last time.

“I’ll give you two weeks to make a decision, until then I look forward to our next meeting,” you purred and leaned against the open door in a way that rivaled Jessica Rabbit, “Izuku Midoriya.”

After you spoke those final words you left with a laugh while he stood in the dark room wondering what just happened.

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“She wants you to join, huh?” Aizawa said from where he was perched on the rooftop. His eyes were scanning below, from the lights of the buildings Midoriya could make out the bags under the man’s eyes. It had to be a late night that was for sure.

Part of Izuku felt guilty pulling the man away from much needed sleep, but being an underground hero he needed allies and the only one with enough experience was Aizawa.

“What should I do?” he asked, moving out of the darkness and closer to the man. He watched the capture scarf blow in the wind slightly while he shivered. It was becoming colder even in Spring, he’d have to get warmer gear. 

Out of the corner of his eye Aizawa seemed to notice because a soft smile slid onto his face, “I told you to bundle up problem child, but you never listen.” 

Before Midoriya could say anything a jacket was flung his way, he jumbled it until he was able to hold it steady. Peering down his eyes widened with disbelief.

“Are you just going to stand there or put it on?”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Stumbling out a yes, he wrapped the jacket around him and zipped it up. It was sleek, light fitting but also warm. Izuku couldn’t help but sink into the feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged, but wearing that coat he felt like he received the biggest embrace in the world.

A peaceful silence fell over the two of them while they stared out at the streets below. It was a quiet night, the only sounds were of the cars driving by and an occasional group of friends walking past. Their voices echoed off the buildings and were burned into Izuku’s ears. 

He wondered what that was like, having friends. He knew going down the path he was on would be dangerous. He couldn’t have time for them if he was going to save people, especially since there was a chance they could become targets.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if his life would’ve been different if he’d had them when he was younger.

“I think,” Aizawa began, causing Izuku to fix his eyes onto his mentor. “That you should do it. You can get into their organization and gain intel, be a double agent of sorts.”

Izuku’s heart stopped. “Me?” he sputtered, “Do you really think I could pull something like that off? Half of the pro heroes have tried to take Chimera down and they’ve come up empty handed everytime! And besides the only reason I followed them was to bring the information to you!

How do you know I won’t end up like the others?”

“I don’t,” came the response. Izuku expected that to be it and for Aizawa to leave, but instead he turned to Midoriya and placed his fist on his protege’s chest, “But if there’s one thing I know it’s that if anybody could take down Chimera it would be you.”

Izuku focused his gaze onto the ground until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Aizawa shot him a look of genuine faith. “She went out of her way to try and recruit you. I doubt she’ll want to hurt you, but keep your guard up.”

With a nod of understanding followed by an “I will”, the man took that as his cue and began to walk towards the edge of the building.

“You don’t have to of course, but if you do, don't try to do everything on your own kid. You’ve got me. And it’s about time you actually started working on the front lines rather than behind the scenes.”

 With that he was off, a sigh left Midoriya’s lips. He’d been told time and time again that he wasn’t cut out for field work. Not with college he was juggling as well as the fact that his lack of a quirk was always taken into account. He stared up at the sky, he couldn’t remember when he became like this. 

He thought back to the earlier times where he constantly believed he could be a hero. He still believed, but it was subdued. Sad even, but he’d try. If he could take them down it would mean helping more people. 

“I wish you were here, mom,” he said to the stars while tears began to slide down his face, “I’m a little lost right now.”

————————————————————————------------------------------

The two weeks seemed to crawl by. Izuku was getting restless. He knew his decision, but he couldn’t find Chimera anywhere. He checked every back alley, store, restaurant that the members usually went in and came up empty handed. Even when he did find the members and tried to follow them shouting wait or slow down it was like they’d disappear at the last second. 

After running around for nearly three hours he found a bench next to a nearby park and took a seat. He tossed his head back, attempting to get all of the air he lost back. His clothes stuck to him uncomfortably while his forehead was making his hair stick to it. 

They sure can run when they really want to, he thought in between puffs of air. He didn’t know how he’d make it through patrolling, especially now. He dreaded the thought, clutching his side at the reminder. He managed to take Muscular down but not without the villain getting a few hits in. It was worth it though, considering Koda’s smile once he was discharged from the hospital. 

Yeah, he thought looking up at the sky with a serene smile. It had been worth it. 

After catching his breath, he was about to get up from the bench until a person sat down next to him with a note. They didn’t look at Midoriya, instead they were focused straight ahead. The shades made it difficult to see their eyes, while their hoodie and jeans made them look like an ordinary person.

“An invitation,” the person grumbled out, “Don’t be late.” 

Izuku didn’t watch them go, flipping the envelope over he noticed neatly scrawled out cursive. The envelope itself was red with a wax gold stamp. A chimera was in the center while the cursive was in gold. He didn’t open it until he was safe in his apartment.

His breath hitched as he read the words over and over again to make sure he had them right. Once he realized he did, he texted Aizawa on the burner phone they used specifically for underground work and buried his head in his hands.

“What am I getting myself into?”

------------------------------------------------------———————-------------------

The neon lights bathed everybody into an ocean of colors. People were swarmed into the center of the room, dancing and grinding on anybody close to them. The bass caught in Midoryia’s chest as he navigated through the crowd. He glanced around, taking all the strobing lights in. The letter said to meet at The Tavern, but it never specified where.

After bumping into several people and almost being roped into dancing, he finally found the bar. He took a seat and checked his phone as he waited for his nerves to calm down. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to one of these. He thought back to freshman year when he first started out he’d gone to a local club to see what it was like only to realize he wasn’t really fond of it.

“Not exactly your scene is it?” a bartender asked, sliding him a drink. Midoriya looked up at the woman with a sheepish smile. She looked to be about his age, her short hair framing her face. Earphones were dangling  from ears. Must be her quirk, Izuku thought with excitement. Her pierced brow was raised as she stared at Midoriya.

“Is it that obvious?”

She hummed for a moment, studying him before she nodded, “Nobody wears a shirt that says ‘Club Shirt’ on it. It’s an interesting pick.”

He flushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. He knew he should’ve gone with something different. 

“Yeah,” he said trailing off until his eyes landed on the drink.

“I don’t—”

Before he continued the woman stopped him, “It’s on the house, you’re waiting for her aren’t you?” 

He was about to ask how she knew when you sat down next to him with a smile, “I see you’ve met Jirou, my most trusted friend.” 

Izuku watched as the woman, Jirou’s face turned bright red. He almost thought he heard a don’t mention it before she went off to serve more drinks, leaving him with you. 

He was nervous, that much was easy to tell with the way his eyes kept jumping from corner to corner. Poor thing you thought while his leg bounced up and down. Part of you cringed, he felt out of place.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” 

The sound of your voice over the music snapped his attention back to you. Taking his blank stare and furrowed eyebrows as a sign, you huffed out a laugh and repeated yourself. He joined in albeit nervously.

“It’s okay,” he said, stirring his drink with the straw, “You planned to meet here. I don’t want to cause any trouble,” he took a deep breath, “Boss.” 

You turned to him with wide eyes before waving him off as you leaned closer to the table, “You don’t have to call me boss you know,” you said nonchalantly, “Not even the guards call me that.” 

He couldn’t help but stare at you in awe. How you were able to be so calm in a place like this was beyond him, but it helped him relax. With furrowed brows he focused back on his straw. The ice clanked against the glass, but he couldn’t hear it over the song playing. 

“What should I call you then?”

Just like the first time you met, you used one of your fingers to tilt his head up, he could feel your breath mingle with his while his face turned a vibrant shade of red. He silently thanked the lights for making it almost impossible for you to see it. He watched as your eyes clouded over while a sinister smile fell onto your face. It made him feel small underneath it. 

Before he could say anything, you leaned in close to his ear. 

“I have a couple ideas,” your words sent goosebumps to ripple against his skin while his mouth felt dry. He wanted to know what they were, wanted to ask. What was going on with him?!

He didn’t have much time to dwell once he felt your breath ghost against his neck. It was warm and sent shivers down his spine. He briefly felt the touch of your lips against him, part of him hoped you wouldn’t pull away. 

“Please,” he rasped before he could stop himself. Your lips curled into a grin, one of your hands snaked from the table to bury itself in his green hair. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

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The cool air of the outside clashed with the warmth from the club. Izuku barely processed your lips meeting only to find that in the next minute he was up against the brick wall behind the club. Your hands tangled themselves into his green curls causing him to whimper against your lips.

“Fuck,” you muttered, pussy clenching at the sound he made. You wanted to hear more, wanted him to scream. You placed your knee in between his legs, he instantly started to grind down on your thigh. He tried to pull away from you, but that only made you hold his curls tighter before letting him go. A string of saliva was all that left the connection until you wiped it away with the back of your sleeve. 

Izuku’s face was flushed as he tried to catch his breath. Everything about you was intoxicating, especially the way you looked him up and down like he was your prey. He was still grinding against you, his puffs of air were visible in the night. It wasn’t until you touched his side that he flinched.

You pulled your hand away in concern, but he was quick to shush you with the way his lips latched back onto yours. He could tell you about the wound later, you thought. His lips were soft against yours, when you met for another kiss you opened your mouth. Catching the hint, he opened his mouth enough for you to snake your tongue into his mouth. Judging from the way he was grinding faster against you with broken moans you could tell he was enjoying himself. 

You pushed him further into the wall, it was surely digging into his back by now, but he made no sound of pain. You made sure to avoid his waist, instead you grabbed a hold of his belt loops and yanked his lower body into an arch.

“Oh my god,” Midoriya groaned, tossing his head back against the wall. He needed more, you were everywhere, breathing into his neck, sucking and biting the skin there. Weakly he went to push you off.

“No marks-can’t ah-can’t ngh cover them.” 

A grin casted onto your face. He was so cute like this, all sprawled out under you just as you knew he’d be. You kissed the skin close to his pressure point before staring directly into Izuku’s eyes. Your lips brushed against each other. His eyelashes fluttered as he went to close the space, but you held his neck with one hand and pressed him back.

“I don’t think so baby,” you whispered. Your voice lower in pitch. You didn’t miss the way his pulse jumped under your fingers. Your eyes widened in shock until you gained back control. This was more interesting than you thought. “Does the little hero like this, hm? You like being helpless?” To emphasize your words, you guided his hips with one hand and ground him against your thigh once more. 

A high whine escaped his mouth before he could prevent it. He knew this was wrong, that he should stop this but the way your hand made him dizzy around him and the pressure against his cock caused his mind to become fuzzy. What Aizawa didn’t know didn’t hurt him anyway.

“Please,” he whimpered, meeting your leg. He wanted more--no he needed more. “I’ll do anything, I’ll do anything just please.”

“Such a needy little thing aren’t you?” With a huff you slowly stop moving. Tears sprang into the corners of Midoriya’s eyes as he thrashed in an attempt to bring some of the pleasure back, but you only moved your leg away. Broken no’s spilled from his lips and into the cracks of the brick wall. He’s a mess of babbles and pleas. You wait a second longer until you lick a tear from his face, starting at his chin and stopping just below his cheek bone.

He’s about to thank you when you send him a devilish smirk and drop to your knees in front of him. The sight alone causes him to reach his high. You let him calm down, rubbing his thighs through his jeans. You whisper soft encouragements that he can barely decipher. 

Looking up at him you can see that his pupils are still blown wide while his chest is heaving up and down. Under the neon red light he looks perfect. You want to devour him, but you hold back. Soon he’d learn how to get hard just by your words alone, but first you’d have to train him.

It isn’t until he comes down from his high that he realizes what he’s done. Mortification falls over him faster than you thought from the way his face flushes even further. You wished he wasn’t in so many clothes, you could almost bet that the same would be found on his neck leading to his chest.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to, I tried holding it in but-”

Slowly, you rose to your feet and before he could stumble over more excuses you kissed his cheek whispering “Good boy,” into his ear. If Midoriya hadn’t just cum he would’ve from those words alone. 

You laughed softly at his body’s reaction before breaking away from him fully. You don’t miss the pout that formed on his face when you stepped away. At first it was cute, but now seeing it after this made something snap. You quickly grabbed him by the jaw and traced your thumb over his bottom lip. 

“Such a sweet little mouth, making all those pretty sounds earlier, but I think I have more uses for it rather than just pouting,” you locked onto his wide eyes. “Wouldn’t you say, Midoriya?”

He could only nod against you, completely trapped under your gaze. You had him right where you wanted him. “Well then baby boy,” you said detaching yourself once more. “Get to work.”

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

Midoriya woke up in a cold sweat for the umpteenth time that week. He fell back into the pillow with a groan. It had been weeks since that encounter and he was desperate to do it again. He couldn’t escape the sound of your moans echoing in the night or the way your nails dug into his hair just right to send waves of pleasure zipping down his back. And the way you tasted, he craved feeling you against his tongue, drowning in you. 

However now that he was officially part of Chimera after being tested the night after he was able to taste you, it had been pretty standard. There was nothing out of the ordinary, the organization ran just like how any other underground facility would. Midoriya had his own jobs that he had to handle such as keeping track of shipments and making sure nobody was caught. He didn’t have much to report back to Aizawa which caused the older man to worry.

Izuku huffed at the sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand. Speak of the devil. Why couldn’t the man just leave him alone? He knew what he was doing and what he went there to do. Even if his mind was preoccupied with you, he would still put Chimera down first and besides you weren’t serious about him either. 

Without looking at the contact he put the phone up to his ear. “Look Aizawa I’m fine I don’t need you checking up on me every second of every day so please just this once don’t contact me on my day off.”

Izuku expected to hear the gruff voice sigh into the other line and promptly begin telling Izuku why checking in is important because it could mean the difference between life and death which, being an underground hero, the lines tend to blur. 

Instead, there was a delayed pause followed by a low whistle, “And he lets you talk to him like that? I’m impressed.”

At the sound of your voice, he instantly shot up from the futon. “Boss, hey um why are you calling?” His blood froze for a second. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?!” He tossed the covers off of him and was about to head to his dresser to change when his foot got caught in the sheets causing him to crash to the ground.

You heard the loud bang on the other line causing you to snort. There was a heavy sound of stomping followed by another brief crash that caused you to look out into the city with a smile. You were reminded in that moment that he was still a college student, so full of life. 

“Nope, I was just calling to check in.”

Midoriya scowled on the other end of the phone. “You and Aizawa both. I’m fine if that’s what you’re wondering. I have all my body parts intact and none of them are broken,” he even wiggled his hands and sat back on the futon to swing his feet even though you couldn’t see him. “Thank you very much,” he said dryly. 

You hummed, mulling over his response. Ever since he joined he’s been more sure of himself, capable. It was an accepted change, after all he needed to be strong. Especially if your plan was going to work. After all, the stronger they are the more fun to break.

“He and I are alike then. You do realize that there’s a very fine line between life and death, right? People like us have to stick together.”

“How are you both the same person?”

That question alone had you laughing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Midoriya, but I do have something you can do for me.”

He perked up at that. “What is it?”

“I’ll pick you up, how does noon sound?”

“Yes-” he said all too fast before coughing. “I mean yeah sure, whatever works for you.”

“Good, be sure you’re ready early, I always come on time.” 

With that you hung up the phone and spun back to face your office desk. Phase one was complete, now you could move on to phase two. Leaning your head on the desk, you could feel rather than see Jirou’s eyes boring holes into your forehead.

“Why aren’t you worried about Midoriya?”

You cocked you head to the side. “Why would I need to be worried?”

“He’s working with Aizawa.” It wasn’t a question, but it didn’t need to be. You knew Izuku was working with the man for years before he even discovered your group, but that didn’t matter. You thought back to his confidence, how he was able to give orders and stand up for himself now, but still looked at you to make sure he wasn’t speaking out of turn. It caused a fire to burn in the pit of your stomach.

“Rest assured, Midoriya won’t be a problem. After all,” you said interlocking your hands on top of the desk. “I have him wrapped around my finger.”

tag list: @chaos-night​ @yixxes​ 

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[cinnaminsvga]

Hug-o-gram | Yoongi

→ summary: 

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font. 

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious. 

“Worse,��� Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}

→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au, fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: 13.3K → a/n: another commission by the lovely @jincherie​ because she’s epic like that!! she literally just told me to write whatever the hell i wanted and well... yoobie got me Good... anyway here’s more yoongi fluff bc apparently i’m a fluff writer now and sometimes i just want my boy to be happy... appa yip yip

Kim Seokjin makes a lot of good decisions. He also makes plenty of bad ones, but he likes to think the score is lying heavily towards the positives. Min Yoongi will be the first one to quickly disagree, but Seokjin doesn’t let it get to him. He doesn’t make it his business to listen to opinions that don’t immediately align with his, anyway; he likes to call it “selective hearing.” Yoongi calls it stupidity. Either way, the point still stands: Seokjin knows a good idea when he sees one. Case in point:

“This automatic popcorn machine is absolutely divine,” Seokjin moans, his mouth agape as he waits for the Mister Popcorn Robot to bestow him with another morsel of goodness.

“Yeah,” is Yoongi’s verbose reply. He also has his mouth agape, his prone body lying side by side with his roommate of four years in their small living room. Their roomba (another one of Seokjin’s good ideas) cleans all around them, its steady whirring serving as their only source of background music. “Lowkey though, I think our position isn’t quite… as optimized as it could be.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks, as he drapes his leg over Yoongi’s. His movement jostles the surrounding popcorn halo around them, as most of the food had missed their mouths by a couple of centimeters. At this point, the roomba has probably eaten more of the popcorn than the two of them combined.

“Nothing,” Yoongi shrugs, or whatever might be the lying down equivalent of a shrug. Some of the popcorn on his chest falls down, only to be quickly devoured by roomba-chi. Yoongi stares at the ceiling, tracing shapes out of the cracks that Seokjin had accidentally made when he tried using a pogo stick indoors. He points up, catching Seokjin’s attention. “Hey, hyung. Doesn’t that look a bit like Y/N?”

Seokjin squints. “You mean the mysterious brown stain near the lights? I think the toilet from the elderly couple upstairs might have leaked that.”

“No, you dipshit. The squiggly curve over there. It reminds me of her smile.” Yoongi says. There’s a stupid dopey grin on his face and Seokjin wants nothing more than to wipe it off.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Seokjin groans, turning over to envelop Yoongi in a sweaty half-armed hug. The buttery residue on his arms and stomach leaves something to be desired, but Yoongi doesn’t scoot away. He only continues to sigh dreamily, staring mindlessly at the image of you that only his lovelorn brain can imagine.

Seokjin slaps Yoongi in the face. “Dude, get a fucking grip,” he grouses, giving Yoongi a serious look. The younger doesn’t break out of his trance, further irritating him. “Will you stop pining in front of my popcorn? It’s seriously making roomba-chi lose her appetite!”

To his credit, roomba-chi did seem to be slowing down, though that could also be because it had overloaded with popcorn and was seconds away from exploding. Wouldn’t be the first time, but Seokjin always managed to find a way to save roomba-chi from imminent death. She was like a daughter to him.

“Hyung, you know I can’t. I just… God, I really like her, you know?”

“That’s the third time you said that within the last hour. Believe me, I know.” Seokjin groans, shoving Yoongi away. He sits up, reaching over to the popcorn machine and switching it off. He grabs a fistful of fallen popcorn from the ground and shoves it inside Yoongi’s mouth. “There. That should shut you up.”

“Aw weawwy wike hew, hwung.”

“And yet, you still haven’t done anything after four years,” Seokjin tuts, finally standing up. He stretches his limbs, his joints creaking youthfully. He grabs his phone from the coffee table, nearly dropping it from the butteriness of his fingers. The clock reads 4:32 PM, which means–

“Yoongi, it’s time for me to head to work. You want to come with me today?” Seokjin asks, though he knows what answer he’s going to get. You see, Seokjin’s new booming business is another one of his fantastic ideas, but it is a little... inventive. Sure, Yoongi had scoffed when he had originally suggested the idea, but Seokjin knew that it was going to be a money-maker. Sure, it had taken a few years for the business to really take off, but once it finally did…

Enter Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service! Students from his university are able to send anonymous payments directly to him, with little notes attached for their crushes. Each love letter delivery comes with a hug from Seokjin himself, delivered straight to the person without them ever knowing who the hug came from. It was ingenious! It was lucrative! But most of all…

It allowed Seokjin to cause drama and have an excuse for it! Nothing could have been more perfect for a man like him.

“No thanks,” Yoongi snorts, rolling over to face him. He watches from the floor as Seokjin changes into a butter-less shirt, which also happens to have his own face printed on the front and back. His trusty cardboard sign that reads “I’m Gonna Glomp Ya!” also joins his attire for the afternoon, a long piece of string tied to its edges so that he can wear it around his neck. Throwing on a pair of white sneakers with the tags still attached, Seokjin is ready to tackle today’s list of would-be hug-ees.

“How do I look?” Seokjin asks, combing his hair with his fingers. It leaves an oily sheen, which he somehow makes it work.

“Ugly,” Yoongi says, like a liar.

“It’s okay, I understand. I can speak tsundere, so you don’t need to explain,” Seokjin snickers, nearly getting hit with a TV remote by Yoongi. He opens his phone again, swiping to his e-mail to see his list of hug deliveries for the day.

Seokjin gets around 10 requests a day, with around half of them coming from regular clients. He’s especially fond of this boy who has been sending hugs to his TA named Namjoon for almost a month now. He has no idea why this kid has so much disposable income, though seeing the blush on Namjoon’s face everyday makes Seokjin think that he would spend every last penny for him too. Namjoon had begged Seokjin for his secret admirer’s identity, but snitchin’ isn’t a part of his service, unfortunately.

As much as Seokjin wants to know who is crushing on who, his little business wouldn’t work as well as it did if anonymity wasn’t included in his package deal. It allows people to thirst in public without facing the repercussions, like getting a knee to the groin or a slap to the face. Not that Seokjin has ever been at the receiving end of that; everyone loves him! Like, have you seen him? He must have saved a civilization in the past with how devastatingly beautiful his forehead is.

“Why am I suddenly filled with the relentless urge to deck you right now?” Yoongi says, getting up to change into clean clothes as well. His black t-shirt unfortunately does not have Seokjin’s face on it, but that can quickly be amended if the elder of the two decides to follow his every intrusive whim.

Seokjin laughs, completely unaware of the murderous capabilities of his friend. Due to his smaller body size, his percentage of evil is unusually concentrated. “Maybe it’s because you know that I’m into pain pla–” but Seokjin’s retort suddenly grinds to a halt. He chokes mid-sentence, coughing wildly as he pounds his chest with a balled-up fist. When Yoongi looks up at him, he finds his hyung staring slack-jawed at his phone, seemingly flabbergasted by what he finds on his screen.

“What’s the matter? Accidentally sent a dick pic to your prof again?” Yoongi snorts.

“That was one time! And no, it’s…” Seokjin trails off, uncharacteristically hesitant. He shifts his gaze from his phone to Yoongi, a drop of sweat quickly forming on the back of his neck. Yoongi raises a brow, silently urging him to continue.

Instead of replying, Seokjin hands him his phone. Yoongi finds a copy of one of Seokjin’s newest hug requests, only having just received it five minutes ago. As he scrolls down, he finds that this secret admirer is a new client, but that isn’t what made Seokjin stop in his tracks. Instead, it’s the recipient of the hug that catches his attention–

“Y/N has a secret admirer?” Yoongi says, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, trying his best to school his face into something less… jealous. He swivels away from Seokjin, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose. He convinces himself that he is the very epitome of calmness.

“You okay there, Yoongi? You look like you’re about to vomit,” Seokjin says, immediately breaking his inner peace. Yoongi groans loudly, shucking the phone over his shoulder, uncaring of where it lands. Seokjin, with his superhuman and God-given reflexes… doesn’t catch it. But he did dive to the floor like a seasoned Olympian, and his ass cushioned his phone so he supposes that’s a win.

Back to the matter at hand––

“I am fine,” Yoongi says, as he continues to not be fine.

From the floor, Seokjin shoots him a disbelieving look. He lies down more comfortably, propping his head on his elbows. Screw his hug-o-gram appointments for now; nothing brings him more joy than seeing Yoongi absolutely losing it. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I marched up to Y/N right now and give her the warmest, coziest, most tender hug of her fucking life?”

“Y… Yes,” Yoongi squeaks, neck glowing a furious red. He has his fists clenched (adorably) by his sides, head bowed as he faces the wall of their apartment. Seokjin’s brain makes the unhelpful comparison of Yoongi with that cat meme who says “no talk me angy” in Impact font.

Seokjin grins, his wickedness from within coiling and yearning to burst from his seams. This is it! Maybe if he pushes a little more, then maybe Yoongi will stop pining like a pathetic loser! Also, it didn’t hurt that he got to push Yoongi’s buttons while he’s at it, but hey! Not all heroes go to heaven or whatever.

He grabs his phone from his ass, scrolling back to the e-mail. “So… You wouldn’t mind if I walk up to Y/N right now and tell her ‘Hey! I’ve had an embarrassingly long crush on you and when I heard about this hugging service… I couldn’t miss the chance to shoot my shot! If you’re single and ready to #mingle, then please meet me at the Corner Cafe at 2 PM tomorrow.’” Seokjin sing-songs, snickering loudly when he sees the absolute pain etched onto Yoongi’s face.

There is a pause, and Seokjin waits as Yoongi uses his tiny kitty brain to think of what to do. He can only imagine what’s going inside his head, but he has a guess. Yoongi could either: 1) finally admit his feelings for you and come clean before Seokjin has to deliver your hug, or 2) do something stupid and counterproductive.

It comes as no surprise when Yoongi goes with option number––

“Hyung, let me come with you to work today,” Yoongi decides, walking over Seokjin’s prone body to their shoe rack. He slides into a pair of sneakers, his harried movements unusual for his customary lethargicness. He grabs a coat from its hanger, stomping his feet to get Seokjin to move faster. “C’mon! We have hugs to deliver.”

“Woah woah woah! Slow down there, Simpimus Prime.” Seokjin gets back up to his feet, skipping over to him. An absolutely feral grin is stretched upon his face. “Am I hearing what you’re saying? Are you offering… to deliver hugs with yours truly? Are you finally going to take up my offer to be an employee at Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service?”

“Of course not,” Yoongi scoffs, but his shifting eyes betray him. He fidgets in place, refusing to return Seokjin’s eager gaze. “I just… wanted to go out for once. Yeah.”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You haven’t left this apartment other than to go to class in over a month. You never go out. You’re an indoor cat!”

“I’m not a fucking cat,” Yoongi hisses, like a cat. “And of course I go out! There was that one time I went outside to pick up our food delivery last week.”

Judging from Seokjin’s unimpressed stare, Yoongi’s excuse doesn’t cut it. Yoongi flaps his arms around, defeated. “Okay, fine! I rarely go out! Screw me and the bounteous crapload of assignments I have due! It’s not my fault I don’t have the time to socialize and have fun. What do you want from me?”

What Seokjin wants is to push a confession out of Yoongi, not because he needs the confirmation, but mostly because he just wants to annoy Yoongi and say “I told you so!” He’s also pretty cute when he’s all blushy and tsundere whenever he talks about you. Should he film him and sell the footage on eboys.bb? He’s certain that goth boy over here would make a pretty penny.

“You like krabby patties, don’t you Squidward?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Yoongi sniffs, nose upturned. He opens the door, not looking behind him to see Seokjin’s triumphant expression. “C’mon. Y/N’s last class of the day ends in a few minutes and we might catch her before she leaves the Science Building.”

Seokjin snorts. He is quick to slip his own coat on and he follows soon after. He locks their door shut, hopping over to Yoongi and matching his shorter-legged pace. “Yeah. Because you totally just know her schedule at the top of your head. You know, like a normal person.”

Yoongi ignores him. He trudges on, each step filled with determination as they make their way to Seokjin’s beat-up truck. Seokjin skips alongside him, observing the younger boy and placing bets inside his mind. The drive to campus isn’t that long as it only takes around 10 minutes to get there, but Seokjin guesses that Yoongi’s defenses will begin to chip away only 3 minutes into the drive.

He’ll start to realize the gravity of the situation, the cogs in his smooth and slushy excuse of a brain slowly comprehend what he’s about to witness. He’ll first think about how 1) he’s going to see you and that never helps his poor dainty grandpa heart and 2) he’s going to see you hugging Seokjin as he reads to you the short love confession from your anonymous Romeo. Seokjin bets that after 8 minutes, Yoongi will start to break out into a sweat, leaving gross perspiration marks on his good car seat leather.

After exactly 7 minutes and 34 seconds (Seokjin was keeping track of the time on his dashboard), Yoongi’s face turns an unflattering shade of green. “Dude. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Yoongi had originally offered to drive the two of them to campus, but Seokjin had the good foresight to refuse. Had Yoongi been the one on the wheel, he would’ve brought them back home in an instant due to nerves. So instead, Seokjin speeds up, ignoring Yoongi’s soft whimpers of defeat.

“Too bad, but there is no turning back now. I have six deliveries today and I am not putting my livelihood on the line just because your balls have magically shrunk in size,” Seokjin snickers. He glances at Yoongi from the corner of his eye and feels the slightest touch of pity for the pathetic fool beside him. “But if it really makes you want to shit yourself from anxiety, we could save Y/N for last. Though, on second thought… That could also prolong your misery, which I will always be up for.”

“God, shut up,” Yoongi groans, slamming his head on the dashboard. Seokjin continues undeterred as he pulls into the campus parking lot, waiting for his friend to make up his damn mind for once in his life. He supposes that he is being a little harsh on Yoongi, but there are only so many sad love songs he can listen to without going completely insane.

Aren’t you tired of being nice? The demon on his shoulder cajoles, shoving the corpse of his angel counterpart somewhere down a ditch. Don’t you just want to go apeshit?

And who is Seokjin to deny his impulsive needs anyway?

“No, let’s… just get this over with,” Yoongi decides, head still smushed against his dashboard. He doesn’t make any move to get out of the car, not even when Seokjin shuts off the engine and makes a show of “leaving” Yoongi behind.

“Okay, lover boy. You have ten seconds to get your butt into high gear before I’m leaving you behind. And you should know that I’m not above playing dirty and giving Y/N the sweetest fucking hug of her life that will make her forget anyone else exists in this world, so you better start moving before I–”

Like lightning, Yoongi scrambles out of the car faster than if it had caught on fire (and Seokjin’s car has exploded before and Yoongi certainly did not seem as bothered to escape than he does right now.) He nearly trips over himself in his haste, getting caught by the car door and nearly receiving a concrete facial to boot. He straightens up with as much dignity as he can muster (which he doesn’t have very much of, if at all.) Seokjin is kind enough not to mention anything, but the shit-eating grin on his face is enough to make Yoongi bristle.

They exit the parking lot, looking to the world like the sun and moon had turned human for the day. Min Yoongi, with his all-black attire and gaunt appearance, is heavily juxtaposed with the man who appears to have been vomited on by a rainbow. They walk side-by-side together, accustomed to the stares that often come their way when they go out in public.

“I just can’t believe we’re doing this,” Yoongi moans for the umpteenth time, his movements stilted like a robot. His footsteps look heavily disjointed like his knees were beginning to rust. His arms swing like a pendulum, adding to the unnaturalness of his motions. Basically, he looks like a fucking idiot.

“Who are you calling an idiot?” Yoongi snaps. Seokjin startles a bit, realizing belatedly that he’d said that out loud. Not that he cares. Yoongi continues, “I’m not the one wearing a fucking cardboard sign that looks like a toddler made it with macaroni and glitter!”

“Hey, Taehyung told me it looked good,” Seokjin sniffs, fingering the macaroni pieces dejectedly. “I don’t need to hear an opinion from a Music major.”

“Shut up, Business major. No one likes you fucking snakes,” Yoongi retorts, crossing his arms. “Your definition of fun is going on LinkedIn and using Excel sheets.”

Distracted by their own quarrel, neither of them notice the sound of the large clock in the middle of campus that chimes every hour, signaling that it was already 5 PM. A few minutes later, hoards of students begin to leave university for the day, the walkways beginning to fill with people as they head home. Amidst the chattering and bustling of everyone trying to get out of the crowd, it is hard to notice that you are also one of the hundreds of people finishing your last class of the day.

But Yoongi notices, as he always does. Call it Y/N intuition, or whatever. “There,” Yoongi points you out over dozens of heads. Seokjin can hardly spot you, but he trusts Yoongi’s weird Y/N-dar to find you without fail. People have begun to notice the two of them, most of whom were whispering excitedly when they notice that Seokjin is in his work attire.

“Oh my god, someone’s getting a hug-o-gram! I wonder who…”

“Have you ever ordered one? I got one for my current girlfriend last month and that’s how we got together.”

“I’ve always wanted to send one, but the prices are insane! Fuck them business students and their capitalist ways.”

“Screw sending a hug to someone else! I wanna order a hug for me. Kim Seokjin is a hot piece of ass.”

(Yoongi swears the last comment had sounded eerily like Seokjin himself, but the older boy’s mouth hadn’t moved in the last minute.)

“Alright, Yoongi. Here’s the plan,” Seokjin leans closer to Yoongi, stage whispering into his ear. Everyone within a six-foot radius is eagerly eavesdropping, not even bothering to pretend that they aren’t. It’s common knowledge that Seokjin basks in their attention, anyway. Yoongi rolls his eyes, urging him to get it over with.

“Y/N is over there, right? Well, I have to send a hug to this guy named Mark Lee too, who just so happens to be over there,” Seokjin points behind them, in the opposite direction of where Y/N was heading, “so here’s my proposition. You go over to Y/N and deliver the hug for me, while I go catch up to Mark so that we can kill one bird with two stones!”

“Excuse me?” Yoongi wheezes, pushing Seokjin away from him. His eyes bug out. “Are you insane? I am not doing that. And the phrase is ‘killing two birds with one stone,’ you fucking idiot.”

“Same shit, Shakespeare! Who cares about numbers!” Seokjin exclaims, exasperated. “Listen, would you rather you hug Mark and I hug Y/N?”

“I would much rather prefer that I stick my whole fist up your anus,” Yoongi seethes.

“Interesting proposition, but maybe for a later time,” Seokjin says, not missing a beat. “Listen, dude. The longer we prolong this little bitchfest you have going on, the farther away Y/N is gonna get. You know I will stop at nothing to deliver her hug anyway, so would you rather you miss your chance right now when I am so magnanimously offering you a shot at getting closer to your crush?”

Even though Yoongi feels like his insides were slowly turning into mashed potatoes, he knows that he had already made a decision long before they left the house. Seokjin is right; this is a good opportunity for him, whether he is willing to admit it out loud. Perhaps it is just because it is Seokjin of all people who is egging him on that preprogrammed him into thinking that this was a bad idea. In all seriousness, it was just a hug, nothing fancy. It isn’t like Yoongi was going to have to kiss you––

(His heart contracts and Yoongi wonders if he’s having a stroke. The thought of your soft lips connecting with his is enough to cause the wind to knock out of his chest. God, Yoongi is so screwed.)

“Why must I always feel as though I am a snail and God is personally salting me,” Yoongi groans, stepping away from Seokjin and heading your way. Behind him, Seokjin hollers in what he assumes is friendly support, but it only further antagonizes Yoongi. The absolute buffoon waves enthusiastically from behind him, a beaming grin almost ready to split his face in two. Yoongi flips him off without looking back.

God fucking dammit. The closer that Yoongi is to approaching you, the stronger the urge to just evaporate like ice cream on hot concrete becomes. He can feel himself perspiring from every corner of his body and he just hopes that his black attire will do well to mask the slimy creature that he is underneath his clothing.

This is all Seokjin’s fault, Yoongi reminds himself. If he hadn’t started this stupid hugging service in the first place, then no one would have ordered a hug for you in the first place. Then Yoongi wouldn’t have to be in this stupid predicament either!

But you could’ve ordered a hug for her if you wanted to, says the annoying part of his brain – the same part that’s always been a little bit too hopeful for Yoongi’s liking. The whispers continue, And she wouldn’t even know it would be you! But more importantly…

“Seokjin wouldn’t know either,” Yoongi huffs irritably because he knows it’s true. The biggest thing stopping him from ever making a move on you, other than his debilitating fear of rejection and heartbreak, is the fact that he’d rather explode into spores than for Seokjin to find out that he’d used his “genius” business idea to get the girl of his dreams.

He’s afraid that one day, Seokjin would magically develop telepathic powers (a fear that Yoongi feels that the majority of the human population should also share) and find out that Yoongi doesn’t actually think his hug-o-gram service is dumb. It’s actually really cute, and Yoongi hates to admit that the success rate of his service is nearly perfect in terms of getting couples together.

But Yoongi is a strong (read: stubborn) man; he’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin the satisfaction of seeing his business work out for his seemingly hopeless case. Which brings him to the present–

You’re standing by the entrance of the Sciences building. You are dressed nicely as always; Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever seen you in anything remotely slobby, not even a pair of sweats like any regular uni student. You always look a little bit business proper: the epitome of someone who should be on the student council.

You’re speaking to someone, a younger male student by the looks of it. The hairs on Yoongi’s neck stand at attention and, God forbid, did he just fucking growl? Did he make that sound? By the looks of the students carefully navigating their way around him, Yoongi surmises that he did make that sound. Geez, is he some sort of animal? Is he going to turn into those feral stan accounts on Twitter that salivate over their K-pop boys like it’s their job? He hopes not.

But what if that’s the kid who sent the hug–

Yoongi shuts up his brain before he can let it finish. No, he can’t let himself go down that path. It’ll only cause him to self-combust right then and there, and he isn’t exactly keen on letting you see his entrails anytime soon. That would be the least cool thing to do, he decides. And so, with his brain turned off, he walks over to you, arms swinging robotically by his sides as he forces himself closer.

“Oh thank you so much, Y/N! You’ve been a real help to our club, you know?” The boy (Yoongi can’t believe they’re letting toddlers into university these days!) says, his eyes glittering with an ambition that still hasn’t been killed by the all-consuming dread that comes with university.

You laugh lightly, the sound causing butterflies to flutter excitedly in Yoongi’s chest. “No worries, Soobin. I’m glad I could be of help. If the editorial board needs any more help, don’t be shy to shoot me a message, alright?”

Soobin nods enthusiastically, his head bobbing up and down so quickly that Yoongi was afraid his neck would snap. “No worries, Y/N! Have a good rest of your week!” He waves a cheery goodbye, springing away with his numerous anime keychains on his backpack jingling softly in his wake.

“What a cute kid,” you sigh. You look incredibly fond, and Yoongi hates the bitter coil swimming in the pit of his stomach. That feeling soon fizzles out when you finally turn to face Yoongi. Your eyebrows shoot up, but your expression quickly morphs into one of pleasant surprise. Yoongi’s heart stops for just a moment, feet turning cold. “Yoongi! Oh my goodness, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen you! How’s it going?”

Let’s play a game, shall we? How many of Yoongi’s nervous ticks can you spot within the next five minutes? Think of this as the easiest game of Where’s Waldo ever!

“Hnng,” Yoongi stammers, his hand immediately going to scratch the back of his neck. His cheeks pinken, pupils shaking in every different direction as they try to focus on anything but you. It always feels like he’s standing way too close to the sun when he’s around you, hardly able to keep his gaze focused on you. He chooses to stare resolutely at your chin, but even your fucking chin was impossibly cute.

Seriously? Yoongi is a walking shitshow! His inner voice comes back, but this time it sounds uncannily like his roommate. Come on, buddy. Just say hi… You know, like a normal person. “H… Hey, Y/N.”

Success count: 1 point for the Yogurt Machine!

Even though Yoongi felt like he was living his worst nightmare, you still looked every bit like his favorite daydream. You are all smiles, seemingly unperturbed by Yoongi’s slow, embarrassing demise. “It’s so good to see you! Midterms haven’t been too hard on you, I hope?”

“I’ve been better,” he says. Better now that you’re here, he leaves unsaid. God, can you imagine if he said that out loud?

Your mouth drops open, soft cherry blossoms blooming across your cheeks. “Um, what did you say?” you squeak, embarrassed. But certainly not as embarrassed as the boy in front of you.

Yoongi stops breathing. He did not say that aloud, had he? Judging by the awkward silence stretching between the two of you, the signs are pointing to: yes. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygo–– “Er, what I mean to say is,” Yoongi stutters through his sentence, his entire body flushing fire engine red like it’s nobody’s business. He must look like Satan’s spanked ass right now. “I… I’m here to deliver a hug!”

Confusion quickly replaces the shock on your face. You tilt your head, brows scrunching up cutely. “A hug?” you ask.

“R-right,” Yoongi says, waving his arms around because he has nothing else better to do. He gestures vaguely in the opposite direction, where Seokjin had left to find his other clients. “I’m, uhh… Helping my roommate. Have you heard of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram service?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hop excitedly in place, looking to all the world like the cutest thing in the universe. Yoongi thinks you should be classified as a public hazard, what with how you’re somehow able to give him diabetes just from standing next to him. “I totally heard about that! I’ve always wanted to send a hug, but I’ve always been a little shy.”

That piques Yoongi’s interest immediately. You wanted to send a hug? But to who? He unconsciously clenches his jaw, and he can feel a vein pop up near his neck. He forces himself to smile, but he knows it probably looks more like a grimace. “Oh really? That’s… I didn’t know you had a crush on somebody.”

Yoongi is too busy wallowing in his own self-pity puddle that he misses the way you gaze shyly up at him through your eyelashes, your hands clasped behind your back. “Y-yea… I don’t really go around telling it to just anybody,” you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. You clear your throat. “So, are you here to deliver a hug or something?”

Nothing gets past you, huh? Yoongi swallows thickly as he twiddles his thumbs. He still can’t bear to look at you head-on, afraid that his emotions would be too obvious if he did. (Who is he kidding… He knows he’s fucking obvious, and yet you never seem to get the picture!) “Yea, I am. I’m here to deliver one to you, actually.”

He doesn’t get to see your reaction, but he does notice the way your entire body stiffens. His mind immediately starts to run a minute, trying to guess why you’d suddenly gone stock still.

Did you know who your secret admirer was already? Or perhaps, were you just thoroughly shocked to receive one at all? That can’t be it… You’re the campus sweetheart! Surely it’s much weirder that it has taken eons for you to get your first hug… Or perhaps, are you so disgusted by the thought of him delivering the hug? Oh my god, what if you didn’t want him to hug you? Shit, this entire thing is a terrible idea! How did Seokjin ever convince him to do this stupid shit and get his heartbroken in the process? He swears he’s going to shove ten firecrackers up his ass the next time he sees him––

“Um, Yoongi?” You’re staring worriedly at him, your hand semi-raised as if you were about to wave in front of him. Did you say something? He must look like a fucking prick to you! He shakes his head, trying desperately to get his mind back into his body. Why must he be cursed with inner monologue disease? What is he, some sort of shoujo manga male protagonist?

“Sorry about that. I’ve been a little spacey these days,” he laughs, but even he can hear the panic laced in his voice. He sounds just on the edge of being hysterical. “Ahaha… What were you saying?”

“I was just… shocked?” You giggle softly, making Yoongi cry internally. You smirk, mischief glittering in your eyes. “I just never imagined you’d be the type to… I don’t know…”

“Willingly hug people for the sake of capitalism? I feel you,” Yoongi snorts, forgetting for a moment who he’s talking to. “Believe me, I’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin to use me for his stupid business venture.”

“Then why are you delivering a hug to me now?” you ask, still smiling.

“Hnng,” Yoongi’s tongue feels like it’s grown two sizes all of a sudden. He wheezes, choking on his own spit as he’s caught off guard by your question. “W-well, I––”

“Just being a good friend, I’m guessing?” You’re full-on giggling now, barely trying to hide your mirth behind your hands. Yoongi understands now; you’re teasing him. He hates how amused you are by his awkwardness, but he loves the way your entire expression lights up, like you’re enjoying yourself by being with him.

“Let’s go with that,” Yoongi mumbles, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. He has his head bowed, hoping that his unruly fringe can finally come in handy and hide the disastrous blush encompassing his face. “Right… I’ll just, umm…”

“Am I getting my hug today, or am I gonna have to take a rain check?” You laugh, slapping his shoulder in an attempt to help him shake off the awkward tension. It has the opposite intended effect, as Yoongi’s breath hitches imperceptibly at your proximity. You had taken a step closer, and Yoongi could smell the sweet perfume you always seemed to be wearing. Please don’t pop a boner right now. That would be super fucking creepy.

“You’re…” Yoongi hesitates, arms uselessly immobile by his sides. He doesn’t know if he can even get them to move at this point, as he has lost all motor skills the moment you had focused all your attention on him. It’s a miracle that his heart remembers to beat every so often. “I’m just… I’m just gonna go for it, okay?”

You nod, hands tucked neatly behind your back. “No need to be scared, Yoongi. I don’t bite,” you joke.

God, if you only knew about the dreams I’ve had of you. Yoongi hopes to all the deities from up above that he had not said that aloud, but you don’t seem to be disgusted, so he can only assume that his traitorous brain had disconnected with his mouth for the time being.

He shuffles closer to you, the warmth of your body closing in as he makes the grueling effort to lift his arms up to gently wrap themselves around you, but before he can even fully hug you––

You’re quick to reciprocate. With a small laugh, you wrap your own arms around his torso, nuzzling into his chest with more force than Yoongi was expecting. He lets out a soft wheeze, mouth dropping open when he is assaulted by the smell of your fruity shampoo. His hands hover awkwardly above you, still unsure of where it’s okay to touch you without weirding you out.

You tilt your face up, eyes crinkling cutely by the sheer force of your grin. Both of your faces are only centimeters away from each other, and Yoongi could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired. His breathing stills as he becomes positively mesmerized by the beautiful sight in front of him. He doesn’t even hear the sound of phone camera shutters around him, as he is much too deeply focused on nothing but you, you, you.

“Hey, don’t half-ass your hug! Gimme a good ol’ bear hug!” you whine, nudging his elbows gently to get them to move. Snapped out of his reverie, Yoongi mechanically does as you say, his head completely empty of thoughts. He wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders, his wrist knocking slightly against the back of your head until you’re back to snuggling deep into his chest.

“Your laundry detergent smells nice,” you say, slightly muffled by his shirt. Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, mostly out of disbelief more than anything. He can’t even begin to process anything right now; he feels like he’s reverted back into a single-celled organism.

“Thanks?” Yoongi squeaks, but you don’t seem to mind his awkward attempts at being a Normal Person™️. You crane your neck upwards so that you’re looking him directly in the eye. There’s a twinkle of mischief there, like you’re enjoying Yoongi’s flushed face a little too much. He honestly feels like he’s seconds away from exploding into tiny bite-sized pieces, and he fears that if you snuggle deeper into his chest, he might just do exactly that.

“So… Are we just supposed to hug for another ten minutes, or am I allowed to let go?”

Yoongi doesn’t even realize how long it’s been. You could’ve been hugging him for ten hours and he wouldn’t have known. Yoongi jerks away from you, nearly vaulting himself across campus by how quickly he lets you go. Thankfully, you don’t appear offended––you were more amused than anything. Yoongi has no idea how red he is right now; he feels like he could be blowing steam out of his ears, astounding anatomists everywhere by his peculiar talent.

“I just have to–” Yoongi pats his back pockets for his phone, clumsily pulling it out and looking for his text messages, “–read this message from your, um, secret admirer and then we’ll be good to go.”

“Great.” You nod at him enthusiastically. “Whenever you’re ready, Yoonie.”

Yoongi’s breath hitches right then, caught off guard by the nickname. Only you ever called him that, and it never fails to make Yoongi’s insides feel like molten lava every time you say it. “I… Yeah, here goes,” Yoongi mutters, trying his best to remember how to speak.

He recites the message with as much enthusiasm as he can manage, which is to say, not very much. He could probably read the phonebook with more zeal, but it’s hard to give it his all when the words feel like acid in his throat. He’s unconsciously clenching his jaw as he speaks, looking like a constipated gorilla. “...so, if you’re single and ready to #mingle, then––” Yoongi stops mid-sentence, staring resolutely at his phone screen with a grimace.

You blink confusedly. “Then?”

“Then nothing,” Yoongi finishes, pocketing his phone without an inch of remorse. “I don’t know what was up with that message, but somehow the letter got cut short. Sorry about that.”

“Huh, strange.” You shrug your shoulders, not bothering to question him.

Yoongi fist bumps himself mentally, though other people might disagree and say that he doesn’t deserve any type of congratulations, to which Yoongi says a big “fuck you!” to those imaginary haters. In the wise words of Kim Seokjin himself, “not everyone is worthy to receive your fucks, so it’s time to stop giving them.” (Kim, 2020)

“Well, that was fun! Thanks for delivering the hug to me, Yoonie,” you pinch Yoongi’s cheek, giggling when they turn even redder. “I’ll see you around, I guess? Don’t let those midterms kill ya!” You wave cheerily at him, walking past him and heading towards the bus stops. Yoongi stands frozen in place, the events of the last few minutes finally catching up to him and frying his brain beyond repair.

Oh my god, he fucking hugged you! Like, a good and genuine hug! You felt so warm and so soft and you smelled really good and it was more than he could ever imagine and just––

Yoongi’s brain is trying (and failing) to desperately parse the delayed barrage of information as it comes, but it’s hard for the little hamster running circles in his head when it has never had to run a day in its life. Yoongi’s body feels like it’s overheating even though the weather is nearing the start of winter, but that’s all thanks to you and the devastating effect you have on him.

In short, Yoongi machine has broken, and any sort of maintenance is going to be hard to come by at the moment.

Yoongi could have been standing in front of the Science building for an entire year and he wouldn’t have budged until a tornado in the form of Kim Seokjin arrived to knock him out of his brain dead state. Whistling lowly, the elder stops in front of the rigid mass of meat, an eyebrow quirked in exasperation. “Dude, nice rigor mortis cosplay. Like, yes girl, give us nothing!” he exclaims, slapping Yoongi back to consciousness.

Yoongi blinks rapidly, dazed like he’s woken up from a dream. “What? What’s happening?” he replies dumbly.

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Yoongi. Did you finish delivering Y/N’s hug or what? I finished all my deliveries in the same time you had with Y/N, so I better hope to God you aren’t planning on applying to be an employee of mine, because you certainly have a long way to go before––”

“I hugged her,” Yoongi interrupts, eyes going glassy once more. His mouth is agape, and Seokjin can see a pool of saliva forming, ready to runneth over. He could see the rusted gears turning inside his dongsaeng’s head. “Oh my god, hyung. I fucking hugged her.”

“Yeah, and I hugged Taehyung Kim and felt his gigantic dick press into my stomach. You aren’t special,” Seokjin snorts, clasping Yoongi by the bicep. He drags him away, leading them to their parked car. “C’mon, Dampé. I’m tired and I wanna eat popcorn again.”

As they walk back to the parking lot, the campus roads are a lot less populated now that most students have gone home. Yoongi only then realizes how late it truly is and he vaguely wonders how long he had been stuck standing there before Seokjin had come to drag him back home. The sun has begun its daily descent, filling the courtyard with a warm glow and causing their shadows to grow longer as they trudge quietly to their car.

The campus is quiet enough that both of them hear the quiet buzz of Seokjin’s phone, despite him putting it on silent mode before he had gone on his hugging deliveries. He stops mid-step, causing Yoongi to bump his nose into his wide back. He yelps, shoving Seokjin forward in irritation.

“Why’d you fucking stop, you asshole?” Yoongi whines, his normal annoying personality resurfacing now that he’s begun to recover from your hug. He peers over Seokjin’s behemoth shoulders, squinting at his phone screen. “What? Another hug delivery?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow since I think she’s gone home for the day,” Seokjin says, his tone sounding slightly too delighted for comfort. “In fact, I know she’s gone home already.”

Yoongi stills, changing his focus onto the elder’s expression. He looks… too eager to receive a simple hug-o-gram request. A shiver shoots through Yoongi’s spine when he realizes how nefariously bastardous Seokjin’s smile has grown, the tips of his smirk curling upwards like a villain from a classic Disney animation.

“What?” Yoongi glares acidly at Seokjin, but the elder is unaffected. In fact, he seems to grow more pleased the more aggravated Yoongi becomes. “Spit it out! What’s got your prostate tickled?”

“Oh, nothing,” Seokjin singsongs, shoving his phone down the front of his pants, exactly where he knows Yoongi would never touch. “Just got an interesting new regular customer, is all.”

“A new regular?” Yoongi’s pitch heightens, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling in alarm (like a cat.) “Is it… Another request for… You know who?”

“I wasn’t aware Voldemort went to our university,” Seokjin teases, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s distress. “Though, if you’re talking about Y/N, then the answer is not not not no.”

“Two double negatives.” Anyone could hear the audible soft rattling of his two brain cells exerting themselves as Yoongi deciphers his answer. “That means…”

Yoongi stares pointedly at Seokjin’s crotch, where the outline of his phone is glaringly obvious. “Show me,” Yoongi growls, not making a move to actually touch Seokjin’s nether regions.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “No one’s stopping you from taking my phone though?”

“Hyung!”

“Buy me bubble tea first, then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” Yoongi acquiesces, folding his arms in annoyance. “Just tell me. Is it really the same guy who requested the hug for Y/N today as well?”

Seokjin fiddles around for his phone, digging deeper when it nearly drops down the leg of his pants. When he pulls it out and swipes to his e-mails, he confirms Yoongi’s fear. “Yep. And it seems like he saw you deliver the hug today. Says that he’d prefer that I deliver the hug next time,” Seokjin smirks, enjoying the deep-set frown on Yoongi’s face.

When Seokjin takes a closer look at the order, however, he notices something a little off. “Hold on a sec,” he scrolls to the receipt, scowling when he sees the incorrect amount. “Well, you might be in luck, Yoongi-chi. Looks like loverboy sent the wrong payment. He’s a few dollars short.”

“What?” Yoongi says, for what feels like the tenth time in this entire fic. He grabs Seokjin’s phone, no longer repulsed by where it had been only a few minutes prior. Like Seokjin said, the customer had given the wrong amount, much to both their confusion.

“That’s weird, considering he just ordered a hug today,” Seokjin murmurs, shaking his head. “Oh well. Happens to the best of us. Guess I’ll just have to refund the poor sap.”

“Wait,” Yoongi presses the phone to his chest, preventing Seokjin from taking it. His hyung raises a brow.

“What is it?”

“What if I just… pay you the remaining amount? Then I can also deliver the hug to her and, uhh...” Yoongi mumbles the remaining part, but Seokjin has trained his ears to catch every whisper and mutter for moments just like this. He wouldn’t be where he is today if he didn’t perfect his eavesdropping skills to a spy’s degree. That’s right––Seokjin is a sloppy and nosey bitch and he’s not afraid to admit it!

“Oh? Do my ears deceive me?” Seokjin guffaws, pinching Yoongi’s cheeks for good measure. He hisses in response, but Seokjin isn’t afraid of some little kitten. Seokjin is a bigger bitch with a meaner bite. “Is my little Yoongi Woongi seriously offering to deliver another hug to Miss Y/N? How magnanimous of you.”

Yoongi stares at him, stunned for a moment. A few seconds pass before he shakes his head, faux disdain coloring his expression. “That’s right,” Yoongi huffs, detaching himself from Seokjin’s meaty claws. He keeps his gaze averted, like the big stupid tsundere that he is. “I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart! I care about your profits, and I want to make your workload a little lighter! Isn’t that what you want?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Seokjin snickers, poking Yoongi in the tit. He swivels away, skipping merrily away to their parked car. “I’m expecting that cash in my Paypal by the time I get to the car, or else the deal is off. Make it snappy, loverboy!”

Yoongi had never transferred cash to someone so quickly in his life.

(Yes, not even when the food court on campus was doing a BOGO promo for churros. That’s the extent of how whipped his ass is, period.)

x x x x x

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font.

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

“Listen, I’m seriously not forcing you to do this,” Seokjin starts, even though he’s giving his utmost effort to further embarrass Yoongi by handing out flyers about Hug-o-gram’s newest employee. “Please, take one!” he cajoles, offering a flyer to a gaggle of giggling freshmen. “Make sure to reserve a hug within the week! Yoongi-chi over here is on his way to becoming employee of the month if he gets ten requests by Friday!” They all point and whisper at Yoongi, and he swears he hears one of them wolf whistle in admiration.

“That’s what makes this entire thing terrible. I’m doing this on my own volition, and I absolutely abhor myself for it,” Yoongi moans, grabbing Seokjin’s stack of flyers and smacking himself in the head with them. It probably would’ve hurt more when Seokjin still had a full-stack, but people had swarmed them the moment they entered the heart of the campus, everyone curious to see Yoongi in his interesting attire.

Seokjin might have been famous for creating the Hug-o-gram Service, but Yoongi was famous for hating the business idea, so it’s easy to understand why everyone was interested. (For good reason, he thinks darkly to himself.)

“Damn, Yoongi-chi. Looks like you’re trending on the campus Reddit page,” Seokjin laughs, wheezing even harder when Yoongi points him with a murderous glare. “What? Like you said, this was all your idea.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask to wear… whatever this is!” Yoongi whines, tugging on the string around his neck. The cardboard sign had been ready and prepared the moment they arrived home the other day, arousing Yoongi’s suspicions on Seokjin’s actual involvement in his current predicament. Those suspicions are put in the backburner for now, however, as Yoongi actually feels like he might die of embarrassment instead of the packets of MSG coursing through his veins from the ten ramen packs he ate this morning. Maybe both will kill him, if he’s lucky.

“Well, I would love to lend you my uniform, but I haven’t gotten a t-shirt printed with your face on it yet, so you’ll have to deal with the kitten ears and cardboard sign for now,” Seokjin says, patting him on the back. “Or, would you rather I have you wear a shirt with my face on it? I’m open to suggestions.”

“I’d rather swallow a Tide pod, thanks,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth. “C’mon, let’s move. We’ve been standing in the middle of campus like street clowns for long enough. We need to find Y/N because her class is about to end.”

“Street clowns, huh? I guess you are only missing the make-up to complete the look, especially since you seem adamant to keep honking your way through that sickening crush of yours.” Seokjin nearly catches a punch to the head, but his superior reaction time saves him from Yoongi’s sorely lacking physicality. He snatches Yoongi by the hand, dragging them towards your lecture hall. “C’mon, clown! Let’s honk this bread!”

As the two of them get closer to where you are, Yoongi’s heartbeat begins to accelerate. He wonders idly if he should see a doctor after all this, hoping that he hadn’t actually contracted heart disease due to all this stress. Lord forbid that he meet his end before he even gets to ask you out or something!

Even though he’s already hugged you once (and it was, by far, the most euphoric experience of his sad, miserable life), he still finds himself getting clammy hands at the thought of seeing you again. Nevermind the fact that he looked like a walking circus with his get-up… No, Yoongi refuses to think about it anymore, lest his last remaining brain wrinkle irreversibly smoothens.

The campus clock rings loudly, signaling the end of another block of classes. Students rush out of the buildings, with you being one of the first ones out for a change. When Yoongi spots your head of hair among the crowd, he doesn’t immediately notice what you’re wearing at first. In fact, it’s Seokjin who stops in his tracks for a moment, surprised by how you look.

“Woah, Y/N! Looking good,” Seokjin greets, rushing past Yoongi to envelop you in a hug. (A platonic hug, Yoongi reminds himself. Because unlike Yoongi, Seokjin is a normal human being who can give hugs to anyone he wants because he’s… fucking Seokjin! Lucky bastard that he is.)

“Woah!” You laugh, surprised by the sudden hug. You pat him on the back giddily, allowing him to swing you around a little. “What’s this all about? Am I getting a hug-o-gram again?”

“Yes, you are. But not from me,” Seokjin detaches himself from you, scooting away to point at Yoongi. When Seokjin moves away, Yoongi finally understands why his hyung had said you looked good. No, that was an understatement––you looked [redacted].

(For the sake of the author’s fragile ash-coated heart, she has chosen to redact Yoongi’s exact words to protect herself from slamming her head against a keyboard from how cheesy this fic is becoming. Let’s just say the word starts with a B and ends with an L. Make of that as you will.)

You must have come out of an interview or presentation of sorts because you were dressed more nicely than you usually do, which is a pretty big deal considering how put together you always looked. Your hair is styled nicely, obviously given much more care and effort than your regular appearance. You’re wearing a cute little black dress, long enough to be professional but short enough to give Yoongi breathing problems.

If Yoongi’s brain had a playlist, it would be nothing but the sound of him going HNNNNNNNNNG on repeat.

“Oh geez.” Yoongi curses lowly, smiling through the pain. This is fine, he thinks, even though it is clearly not fine. Yoongi has always been a terrible liar.

“Yoongi?” You sound incredulous, though that’s honestly a win in Yoongi’s book considering everything. You didn’t look disgusted, so that’s great. “You look…” You stop yourself, covering your mouth to hide your grin but your amusement is palpable. At least he made you laugh, he supposes.

“Like a fucking idiot? You said it,” Yoongi snorts, arms crossed defiantly. He’s trying to look intimidating, but with his cheeks puffed up and these abominable kitten ears on his head, he looks more like a grumpy cat throwing a tantrum. He juts a thumb at Seokjin, “Thank this himbo for the outfit. I definitely would have chosen something more… inconspicuous.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You quip, still trying to mask your giggles. On the other hand, Seokjin was wheezing like a hyena, his phone pulled out and presumably filming Yoongi to add to his cringe compilation.

“Exactly what I said!” Seokjin says through his laughter, tears of mirth streaming down his face. He walks back to Yoongi, pushing him forward until he’s face to face with you. “Go on, then! We haven’t got all day!”

“I’m assuming you’re officially part of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram business now?” you ask, opening your arms wide to accept his hug. Like the beta male that he is, Yoongi has to be the one to follow in your footsteps, meekly coming closer to wrap you in an embrace.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Yoongi mutters, tucking his chin onto your shoulder. He feels you vibrate with laughter, bringing a small smile on his own face. He likes making you laugh, always has.

With the cardboard sign serving as a barrier between the two of you, he isn’t as fearful of you feeling the erratic beat of his heart, though it wouldn’t be hard to guess if you looked at him. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy your hug rather than just panic through the entire ordeal like yesterday.

Soon enough, you’re detaching yourself from him, still standing close. Your arm is just a hair’s breadth away, and if not for Seokjin enthusiastically videotaping this entire experience, Yoongi might have closed in for another hug if he could manage.

“It’s always nice to get a hug from someone you like, huh?” You say, cheeks tinted a rosy color. The true meaning of your words flies over Yoongi’s head, as his feeble mind chooses to focus on your comment a little differently.

“I––Of course I like you! We’re friends, aren’t we?” Yoongi laughs nervously, unaware that he’s slowly digging himself into a ditch. To the side, Seokjin audibly slaps a hand to his face, body shivering with secondhand embarrassment from being blasted by the full force of how idiotic his friend actually is.

Yoongi sees you deflate a little, further confusing him. “Yeah, you’re right I guess…” You sigh, taking a step backward dejectedly. Yoongi flounders a little, unsure how he managed to fuck up in just a few seconds when you had just hugged him like your life depended on it.

Choosing now to interfere before the going gets rough, Seokjin steps in between and slings an arm around both of you. Yoongi groans under the weight of his arm, glaring when he notices that Seokjin had done it on purpose, but only to him. You don’t look too bothered by his rude gesture, albeit you were more befuddled than before.

“Hey, Y/N! I don’t know if you’ve ever ordered a hug-o-gram before, but I’m doing a special this week! Now that Yoongi-chi has so kindly joined the team,” Seokjin gives him a pointed look, to which the black-haired music major sticks his tongue out petulantly, “we’re doing a little promotion for first-time customers! Would you be interested in ordering one?”

Your eyes widen, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “M-me? Ordering a hug-o-gram? Well, I…” you hesitate, sending a small glance at Yoongi before looking away in embarrassment. “I would like to, but I don’t know if it’ll be well received, you see…”

Seokjin grumbles, silently cursing the stupid shithead who caused his own demise in the first place. The worst part is that he had no idea that he totally just friendzoned you! YOU! Someone who was literally leagues ahead of him. He sincerely has no idea what you see in this bumbling idiot, but everyone with a brain knows that you have been crushing on him for as long as he’s been crushing on you, so perhaps you’re a little bit of an idiot yourself for liking him back.

Being friends with the two of you makes him feel like he’s constantly wearing a sloppy wet diaper, and he hates it. He wants to wipe his ass as soon as possible!

Seokjin shoves Yoongi away roughly, ignoring his indignant squawks as he pulls you aside. He takes you by the hand, taking you a few steps away from Yoongi, far enough that he can whisper into your ear without the other boy hearing.

Yoongi fumes from the sidelines, trying to keep his emotions in check even though he’s bursting at the seams with jealousy. Not for the first time, Yoongi irritably realizes that he does act like a cat, especially in moments like this. He might make fun of Seokjin for being an attention whore, but Yoongi is the same, if only at a smaller scale. He just wants you to look at him, as selfish as that sounds.

Can someone give him a break? He’s been holding in his crush for four years now… Imagine having to take a massive shit after drinking two gallons of milk while being lactose intolerant, except every time you line up for the washroom, the line gets increasingly long no matter how long you wait. That is the extent of his suffering, he tells himself. So please, excuse his dramatics for this one instance.

(Seokjin’s Note: This fucking jackass is SO stupid. If he only knew how easy it is to ask you out, he would know that his emotional constipation could be solved if he just fucking ASKED where the next washroom is. He could have relieved himself ages ago, but NO! And he calls me the idiot! Me! The utter betrayal! I’m never agreeing to become the second lead to a rom-com ever again!)

When Seokjin finishes whispering in your ears, you appear amused by what he had said. Yoongi sweats when you turn to face him, grinning slyly at him. “Is that so…” you wonder aloud. Yoongi feels like the world has shifted on its axis somewhat, though he still doesn’t know exactly how. He has a hunch that he’s going to find out soon enough.

“Would I ever lie to you?” Seokjin laughs that annoying laugh of his, slapping his thigh in the process. He straightens up almost immediately, his expression turning deadpan in an instant. “Send me the details by tonight, and I’ll make sure to deliver it, okay?”

“Promise?” You ask, holding a pinky up towards him. Yoongi might have let out a high pitched sob when he sees the gesture, wanting nothing more than to cup your hands in his. God, if he already nearly died from hugging you, who is to say Yoongi won’t immediately disintegrate if you were ever to hold his hand?

“Promise,” Seokjin replies, linking his pinky with yours. He doesn’t forget to point a shit-eating grin at Yoongi, for good measure.

You pull away, looking happier than you did moments prior. You were absolutely glowing, filling Yoongi with a warmth that only you ever knew how to provide. He wants to make you smile like that all the time, wants nothing more than for you to live beside him, filling his walls with the sound of your tinkling laughter. You wave cheerily at the both of them, stepping away to head home. “I guess I’ll see you, then? I’ll make sure to e-mail you my request, Seokjin!” you say, winking teasingly. “Bye to you too, Yoongi! Thanks for the hug!”

Yoongi watches as you walk further and further away as the usual melancholy that follows whenever you leave soon takes its place in his soul. It might be his imagination, but Yoongi thinks the cat ears on his head might have started to droop to match his mood.

The only way he knows how to replace the sadness, however, is by redirecting those emotions on an unsuspecting victim. Lucky for him, a willing volunteer is already within punching distance.

“Ow! Stop punching me, you gremlin!” Seokjin whines, blocking Yoongi’s series of punches like a pro. He might as well put ‘professional punching bag’ on his resume at this point. “I’m trying to help you, you useless beta male!”

“How is this helping! You made me wear cat ears and whispered blasphemies into Y/N’s ears! Now she’s going to order a hug-o-gram for her crush and it’ll be the end of my chances with her! How could you!”

“I was not whispering blasphemies, you twittering tit! I was giving her advice,” Seokjin sniffs, annoyed. “Don’t say I never help you, by the way. I’ve been trying to help you for years now.”

Yoongi hits him with a steely glare. “Really? So replacing all my clothes in my closet with clown attire is your version of help? I had to wear those stupid clown shoes for a week before you told me where you hid my clothes, jackass!”

“I was only trying to help you physically express yourself! You’re already a clown on paper, might as well help you achieve your final form!” Seokjin huffs, infuriatingly haughty. “Listen, believe me. I only told Y/N something that everyone already knows anyway, so just shut your trap and let Daddy handle the rest. You’re not going to lose her, I promise.”

“Please never refer to yourself as Daddy ever again,” Yoongi seethes, stalking off towards their car. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

“No talk, Yoobie angy…” Seokjin snickers to himself, following Yoongi with a spring in his step. This bastard is going to grovel at his feet by tomorrow evening, he’s sure of it. If he doesn’t, then Seokjin will bite his own dick in half––that’s how sure he is of his plan! (Not that biting his dick in half will do anything to his length; he’d still be left with eight inches, let’s be real.) All in good time.

x x x x x

Seokjin gets an e-mail the next morning, much earlier than any sane person would choose to be awake at. He groans lowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he tries to read the contents of the letter. When he’s satisfied by what he has read, he forwards the e-mail to Yoongi before allowing sleep to take him once more.

Sleep evades him, however, when the sound of Yoongi’s big feet pounds noisily outside his bedroom. He hits his knee loudly against the coffee table, causing their beloved popcorn machine to tumble to the floor, but that is of little consequence to Yoongi right now. No, he needs to get into Seokjin’s room right now and scream––

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Yoongi hollers, slamming Seokjin’s door open. The hinges creak, desperately hanging on despite the impact. Yoongi proceeds to slam a fist upon Seokjin’s ass, who barely flinches due to the fatness of his ass cushioning most of the damage. He blinks blearily at Yoongi, but the smirk on his face is clear as day.

“Came to claim your hug so early in the morning? Well, I usually don’t entertain clients until after I’ve taken a shower, but for you… I’ll make an exception,” he yawns, peeling back his blanket and patting the empty spot on his bed. “Come on in, Yoobie Boobie… Let’s hug like it’s the last day on earth.”

Seokjin fails to realize that once he removed his blanket, he had inadvertently left himself vulnerable. Yoongi slams the heel of his foot against Seokjin’s groin, causing him to shriek bloody murder at 7 AM. He wonders, amidst his pain, whether this might be the last straw and that their landlord will finally kick them out after years of their stupid shenanigans.

“WHAT DID THAT E-MAIL MEAN? IF IT’S WHAT I THINK IT IS…” Yoongi threatens, but it’s as empty as Seokjin’s butthole. They both know the implications of that e-mail, even a toddler can put two and two together and make sense out of it. Anonymous e-mail or not, Seokjin wouldn’t just forward any hug-o-gram request to Yoongi, unless…

What did the e-mail say? It goes something like:

Dear Mr. Kim,

Thank you for offering your special promotion for new time customers of your Hug-o-gram Service! I’ve always been a quiet fan of your business idea, but I’ve always been a little shy to submit a request of my own. Thank you so much for giving me the little push that I needed to send my first (and hopefully last) hug.

I’d like to send a hug to Mr. Min Yoongi from the Music Department. I understand that he has recently been appointed an employee at your business, but seeing as how it’d be difficult for him to hug himself (while not entirely impossible), I’d like to request that you be the one to send the hug to him.

I don’t really have a message for him, per se… I’m still a little shy, even though you already told me that there is no reason to be. I want to believe what you said was true, so I’m pushing my fear aside and putting my fate into your hands. So, to Mr. Min Yoongi… “When I told you it was nice to hug someone you like, I don’t think you understood what I meant. A hug, after all, is a two-way street. They’re often served the best when it is reciprocated, if you catch my drift. :)”

Peace! :3

Regards,

[Redacted] [Redacted]

“Have your brain synapses finished connecting? Because if even this flies over your head, I’m sorry to say buddy but… You might have smooth brain syndrome,” Seokjin pipes up. He observes Yoongi’s brow crumpling, the first signal of his impending mental breakdown. If Seokjin remembers correctly, the next signal should be when––

Yoongi drops down to his knees, his phone clattering to the floor as he stares absently at the ceiling. Seokjin cringes, worried for the state of his friend’s frail kneecaps. The poor sap has bad heart health already; surely, it isn’t too early to get him a life alert button?

Seokjin scooches over his bed, dangling half his body over the edge to appraise his friend. “So. What do you plan to do now?”

For a moment, Yoongi remains silent. Eventually, he shuffles closer to him, perching his hands around Seokjin. The business student raises a brow, confused, until Yoongi pushes Seokjin back onto the middle of the bed so that he can cram himself beside Seokjin on his small double bed. He huffs amusedly, allowing the smaller boy to snuggle into his chest, though he still refuses to wrap his arms around him. Close enough, Seokjin snorts.

“I need your help, hyung.” Yoongi’s voice is small, shy. It’s so uncharacteristic of him that Seokjin immediately softens. They might act like toddlers together the majority of the time, but Seokjin truly does care about Yoongi more than anything. During early mornings like this, when the sun’s soft rays are filtering through his sheer curtains and filling the room with a gentle warmth, it’s nice to cuddle up with one another and enjoy the silence. In fact, Seokjin would never admit it to Yoongi, but he got the idea for his Hug-o-gram service from Yoongi himself, back when the younger boy would be more prone to sneaking into his bed during his bouts of loneliness and homesickness.

Above all else, Yoongi is just a boy with a lot of love to give, so who is Seokjin to say no to his pleas for help?

“You know I always got your back, Yoongi-chi. Whenever you’re ready, we can do whatever you want. Ask and you’ll receive,” he replies, caressing his soft black tresses. Yoongi hums, smiling softly into his chest.

“Thanks, dude. For being… you know.”

Seokjin’s heart pangs a little, but he ignores it. Instead, he continues combing through his hair, humming gently. “I know.”

x x x x x

It’s been a few days since you sent the e-mail to Seokjin and you haven’t heard back from him. You aren’t sure if he sends confirmation e-mails to his clients as you’d never asked for a hug-o-gram before, nor did you know anyone who has. You are forced to continue on with your days like normal, trying to ignore the unsettling anxiety from creeping up your throat and spewing all over the sidewalk.

If Seokjin hadn’t been lying to you, then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. You’ve been harboring this crush on Yoongi for years now, and you never thought in your life that it would ever be reciprocated. He always seemed a little bit detached, a little too cool for you. Never mind the fact that he always seemed so jittery around you, like it was hard to talk to you or something!

Your answer comes on the last day of the week, after an especially rough day at class. Your back is bent, having finished a grueling four hour lab period where you did nothing but stand and stare at your reaction vessel spinning without any signal of change. You are just a little bit hangry from all the stress piling up on your plate, especially since you hadn’t eaten a decent meal since breakfast at 8 AM.

In short, life isn’t going as smoothly as you’d hoped for your senior year, but you can’t let the blues get to you too soon. After all, there are leftover chicken wings in your fridge with your name on it, and nothing beats your meat more than greasy poultry to end a terrible week.

You’re only inches away from sliding your keycard to open your shared dorm room when the door opens without prompting. You flinch backward, yelping loudly when your roommate Park Jimin grins slyly from the doorway––never a good sign, if you knew anything.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jimin says, leaning casually against the door like he hadn’t just scared the living shit out of you. He takes one glance at your disheveled hair and lightly sweaty clothes before grimacing in disgust. “Girl, I can’t let you meet the love your life while you’re looking like that. Come on, we have a few minutes before he arrives. Let’s get you freshened up.”

“I’m sorry?” You squeak, allowing your roommate to manhandle you into your own home. He pushes you into your room, depositing you roughly onto your unmade bed. You try to make eye contact with him, but he’s too busy raiding your closet to pay you much attention. “Excuse me? What did you say just now?”

“No time, princess! Your Prince Charming is on the way, and I’ve been ordered by Seokjin to prepare you for this life-changing moment, so get your ass into gear and change into this!” He shoves a clean pair of jeans and a nicer-looking blouse at you before proceeding to grab your hairbrush and comb your tresses with the gentleness of a mother tigress. You shriek when the brush gets tangled in an especially stubborn knot, but Jimin is relentless. He nearly tears your hair by the roots, ignoring your pained whines.

“Will you fucking stop! I have literally no idea why you’re acting like a psycho all of a sudden–” You shout when Jimin begins to undress you, having to kick him in the chest to get him away from completely eradicating your remaining traces of dignity. “Okay, fine! I’ll dress myself! Just get out of my room and fucking stay away!”

Jimin looks at you dubiously for a split second, before eventually acquiescing. “You have two minutes to get changed. You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, do you?” he says, smirking knowingly. He better dread the day that you finally wipe that annoying twinkle in his eye; it’s been a long time coming.

Left alone to your own devices, you do as Jimin says even though you’re still wildly confused by everything. To think you had been so excited to feast on your chicken wings, and instead, you went through a decade’s worth of torture within the last few minutes. Patting your hands on the butt of your jeans, you meekly take a step out of your bedroom, where Jimin is already tapping his foot impatiently by the door.

He motions for you to hurry up. “Let’s go! Seokjin says they’re rounding up the corner. Hold on,” he steps closer to you, raising your arm up to take a shameless sniff of your pits. “Sorry, had to make a pit stop. You can never be too sure,” he shrugs, disregarding your squawks of indignation.

“I smell fine! Now what are we–” Your sentence is cut short as Jimin all but carries you to the elevator, your shrieks of terror causing one or two of your neighbors to peek their heads out of their doors. When they see it’s just the two of you, they simply shrug their shoulders, returning to their lives like it was normal to see Jimin carry you in a fireman’s hold.

He doesn’t put you down until you reach the lobby of your dorm complex, barely out of breath despite having held you the entire way down. Stupid buff baby, you groan internally to yourself, straightening down your clothes in a desperate attempt to look decent. “Okay, we’re here. Who am I supposed to be meeting?”

In lieu of an answer, Jimin points wordlessly outside your building. A black car is parked on the other side of the road, and you can barely see a familiar head of hair poking out from the driver’s seat. “Seokjin? What the…” you trail off, before your eyes finally land on their target.

Yoongi stands outside the glass doorway, not dressed in his usual all-black attire. He’s wearing an outrageously cute pink shirt today, matching the color of his natural flush. He always looks effortlessly good, with his hair a little windswept in that boyishly cute way. Your mouth goes a little dry when you realize he’s wearing his famous leather jacket, the one that always got the girls and boys swooning when he walked past in them. You hated how whipped for him you were, not wanting to be like the weird kids in his secret fan club, but who can blame you? He’s just so…

You rip open the door, nearly tripping and falling over the short steps leading to the entrance. You grind to a halt in front of him and you’re acutely aware of how rabid you must look. Your chest is pounding, like your heart is begging you to step closer, just like when you had hugged him all those days ago. God, you were going to kill Park Jimin for this.

“Yoongi? What are you…” You take one look at him before your gaze drops to his hands folded carefully behind his back. It doesn’t hide the fact that there is an obvious bouquet of flowers behind him, though. Your face lights on fire when you notice they were your favorite flowers too.

“I’m here to deliver a hug?” Yoongi says it like he’s unsure of himself, but there’s a little coyness laced in his tone. His cheeks are painted a soft pink, and not for the first time, they remind you of freshly baked bread pulled out from the oven. Soft enough to kiss, you wonder idly to yourself.

“I mean… I did order a hug a few days ago, but I do recall not ordering one for myself?” you laugh a little hysterically, your breath cutting short when Yoongi grins softly in response. “I… Who is this hug from?”

Yoongi takes a glance back towards Seokjin. “Hey, boss. Am I allowed to reveal who the secret admirers are, or will that get me fired?”

Seokjin, despite being a few meters away, laughs loud enough for the whole street to hear. “Well, Yoongi-chi. Something tells me your resignation letter was coming in the mail eventually. Who cares about the rules at this point?”

“He’s right,” you quip, pulling Yoongi’s attention back. You’re smiling wide now, your hopes and dreams skyrocketing in your chest and blooming a garden in your heart. “Who cares, right?”

“Right,” Yoongi agrees, taking the last two steps he needs to get closer to you. He drops the bouquet somewhere behind you before finally, finally, embracing you once more. He kisses you gently on the forehead, the contact short and sweet.

You feel like you’re dying, but it’s all good because Yoongi looks just as embarrassed as you. But none of it matters, not when both your happiness is palpable in the air.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“This hug-o-gram is from me to you. Will you go out with me?”

You’ve always been a firm believer that actions speak louder than words. So when you lean in to plant your first kiss of many many more, he knows your answer well enough.

[seawolvesanddragons]

AWAE 25 Days of Christmas  Day 22 “Go on, love birds”

Gilbert was a bundle of nervous energy as he sat in Ms. Josephine Barry’s parlor, a cup of tea growing cold in front of him. 

It had been Anne’s idea that they meet at “Aunt Jo’s” house. Gilbert had finally managed the double miracle of having enough train fare for a trip to Charlottetown as well as having caught up on his work to be able to take the trip, and he and Anne had been ecstatic to see each other for the first time in months, if only for a few hours. Since Anne’s landlady only allowed suitors on Sunday afternoons, when Gilbert would be halfway back to U of T, Anne had suggested a bit of subterfuge in their meeting. Aunt Jo’s was an adequate secondary location, since Gilbert had been there before and Aunt Jo herself was apparently a kindred spirit. 

Privately, Gilbert had thought it would give them the added bonus of avoiding the prying eyes of the other Avonlea girls. He liked Diana and the other girls well enough, but he hadn’t traveled hours on a train to listen to them giggle and tease him and Anne. 

He had completely forgotten Cole McKenzie. Who was now seated across from him in the parlor, grinning at him like the cat who caught the canary and the cream. 

“So, you’re here to visit Anne?” Cole asked, just a mite smug. “Last I saw you two, you could hardly stand to be in the same room.” 

“We uh - settled our differences,” Gilbert said, stumbling over his words. He was only now realizing he had no idea who from Avonlea knew about his and Anne’s courtship. Diana knew, of course, and her father, and Bash. It hadn’t occurred to him that they would now have to tell people. 

“And are such good chums now that you decided to spend a whole day and more on a train ride?” Cole raised a brow. “Must have been some settlement.” 

Gilbert nearly choked on his own breath, coughing wildly at Cole’s accidental innuendo. 

“I, well-” Gilbert stammered, his ears very red as he tried not to think about just how he and Anne had “settled” their communication fiasco. 

“Oh Cole, stop teasing the poor boy,” Josephine Barry chided, sweeping into the parlor. “You know perfectly well Mr. Blythe here is courting our Anne; she told us about it weeks ago.” 

“She did?” It was silly, the elation he felt at those simple words. Gilbert’s heart felt like it was dancing a jig. 

“Technically, Diana told me,” Cole corrected primly. “Anne mostly sat there, face as red as her hair as she tried to remember how to speak,” Cole gave Gilbert a wicked grin. “I heard you caused quite the scandalous scene in front of the boarding house.” 

“I - there was pretty good context for it at the time,” Gilbert said weakly. 

“Oh, I am not faulting you for it at all,” Cole said happily. “I’ve been waiting for this development for ages. I told Anne years ago that you had a crush on her.” 

“You did?” 

Cole nodded. “Back when we all went to Charlottetown for the light bulbs. Right after you two were done your strange flirting as we left the train. She didn’t believe me, of course, even though it was very obvious. You looked at her as if she hung the moon,” Cole snorted.

“Oh,” Gilbert felt sheepish. He had thought he had done a good job keeping his feelings in check until last summer. Apparently, if Bash and Gilbert were to be believed, he had not. 

“That was some time ago,” Ms. Josephine said, raising a brow at Gilbert. 

“Aunt Jo, I don’t think you would have stood for it,” Cole said, clearly relishing in sharing this tale. “Those two were dancing around each other for ages; it was a wonder Gilbert got any work done in school, he was too busy staring at Anne.” 

“I wasn’t that bad!” Gilbert tried to defend himself. 

“I sat behind you and Charlie, Gilbert,” Cole reminded him. “You were that bad.”

Cole might have a point there. 

“Anyways, I’ve had far too many letters from Diana describing your latest escapades once I was gone,” Cole shook his head. “I’ve yet to get the full story of just what happened after the exams out of Anne, though. I’m glad you got it sorted out, Diana seemed ready to knock both of your heads together in her letter right before the fair.” 

“She would have done it, too,” Gilbert shook his head. His opinion of Diana had changed drastically in the last few months. “Your niece can be very terrifying when she wants to be,” he told Ms. Barry. 

“I know,” Ms Barry said proudly. “She’s come a long way.” She then swept out of the parlor, calling for Rollings, her departure as grand as her entrance.  

Gilbert could see exactly why Anne admired this woman so much. 

“So,” Cole’s grin dissipated the moment the older woman left, and he sat forward in his chair, a serious expression on his face. Gilbert felt himself sit up straighter automatically. “You’re courting Anne.” 

“I am,” Gilbert said, a little uncertain of where this was going. Cole had always been a very reserved, kind boy, and for the last thirty minutes there had been nothing but cheeky remarks and grins. Now though, Gilbert was remembering that Cole also had attacked Billy Andrews out of the blue once, in a state of fury incarnate. There had been rumors that Anne had been involved over that too, somehow. 

“Anne is a very dear friend to me,” Cole said sternly. “She was there for me at a time that no one else would be, and she is the reason that I had the strength and courage to be here now. I care for her a great deal, Gilbert. I would like to see her have the same sort of happiness she has helped me find.” 

“I know the two of you had a rough ride to get where you are,” Cole continued. “And though I am quite glad that you managed to meet in the middle at last, I don’t want to hear about any more miscommunication fiascos. Figure it out together, Blythe, because should I ever get any wind that you are treating Anne poorly, or giving her any cause to be unhappy, you’re going to need a doctor yourself. Is that clear?” 

“Understood,” Gilbert said hastily. “Truly, Cole, all I want is for Anne to be happy. I am well aware of how fortunate I am to have her in my life, and how foolishly, stupidly close I came to losing her forever.” 

“Excellent,” Cole clapped, all smiles and cheer again as if he hadn’t just been threatening Gilbert’s life. Ms Barry returned and Cole carried on reminiscing about their Avonlea school days as if nothing had happened. 

All of Anne’s friends were terrifying, Gilbert decided.

At long last, the bell rang, signaling Anne’s arrival. Gilbert sprang to his feet without thinking, his heart racing.

“That look,” he heard Cole tell Jo gleefully. “Every single time she read aloud or beat him in a spelling competition or even just walked through the door, we all had to put up with that look.” 

Cole and Bash were never, ever, allowed to meet, Gilbert thought. Then Anne walked in and all other thoughts vanished. 

“Gilbert,” Anne said softly. 

“Hello Anne,” Gilbert could hardly believe she was finally in front of him. 

“Go on, love birds,” Cole called. “I know you’ve been pining Anne, at least give him a hug now.” 

“Cole!” Anne cried furiously. 

“Come on, Cole, I don’t think we’re needed here anymore,” Ms. Barry said firmly, leading him from the room and leaving Anne and Gilbert alone at last.

“Sorry I was late,” Anne apologized. “At least Cole was able to keep you company. What did you talk about?” 

Gilbert considered telling her all about it. 

Then he considered it again. 

“Oh, just the weather.”

[giuliafc]

Moonlit Tears

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020268

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13839874/1/Moonlit-Tears

A confused and heart wrecked Chat Noir finds a Ladybug in tears atop the Eiffel Tower. But when the two heartbroken heroes compare the shattered pieces of their hearts, they realise that those pieces look very similar. In fact, they're right the same. LadyNoir/Adrinette.

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

The low humming of sobs was the only sound that reached his ears as he landed gracefully at their usual spot atop the Eiffel tower. He gasped and didn’t move, unsure of what to do. His heart was already heavy with chagrin. He had transformed and ran across the rooftops for the last two hours trying to calm himself down. Trying to avoid being the next akuma victim. He couldn't bear the thought that his Lady could possibly have had her heart broken today too.

He sat with feline elegance next to her. She didn’t even acknowledge him, inwardly looking as she was. He didn’t blame her. She was always so open, so generous, so ready to help everyone. She had the right to be upset for once and to not bother to say hi. He didn't want her to think that he had been there all that time without letting her know, though. That would be plain rude.

“Little kitty on a roof, all alone beside his Lady,” he started singing, changing the words of the song on purpose. He heard her gasping, then she stopped sobbing. She slowly stretched her legs and hung them down from the metallic structure they were sitting on. She straightened her back, trying to wipe her eyes dry with her fingertips, but failing miserably. New tears rolled out, renewing the dampness on her cheeks.

“I thought it was ‘ without his Lady’,” she pointed out, sniffling loudly.

He smirked with a concerned look. “And you’re right, Buginette. But I felt lonely even sitting beside you tonight. I’ve been here for a while and you haven’t even noticed.”

She sniffled again. “Sorry, Chat Noir. I had a really bad evening. I transformed and ran across the rooftops for a good couple of hours, but I still didn’t feel better. I came here to be alone, safe from prying eyes.”

“Oh.” His ears drooped. “Do you want me to leave?”

A shadowed smile popped on her lips. “Not at all. I just didn’t expect you to be patrolling tonight.”

“I wasn’t patrolling,” he said, “I had a bad evening too. A bit like you, I needed to vent, so I ran for a while, ending up here. I was surprised to see you. And even more surprised to hear you crying.”

She wiped her eyes one last time and finally they came dry. “Care to tell me what upset you?” She saw him tense, so added quickly, “If it won’t reveal your identity of course.”

He sighed. “I don’t mind telling you, Buginette, but I think you need to vent more than me. I hate seeing you so upset. Who do I need to beat up?” He faked a scowl and posed like a boxer.

She looked at him in amazement and then erupted into a crystal laugh. “Oh thank you, chaton. I needed it. Thank you so much.” She hugged him tightly and kept laughing. But the more she laughed, the more her laughter lost its light. It darkened, until she sobbed again, clenching her fists against the spandex material of his suit on his chest. He tentatively hugged her. When she didn’t react by rejecting his touch, he tightened his hold and held her closer, patting her hair in a soothing rhythm. A quiet purr began rumbling into his chest; after an initial gasp, Ladybug hugged him back and his purr renewed.

“I told him tonight,” she whispered eventually.

“Him?” he asked, carrying on with his purring and gentle rhythm of his hand over her hair.

She sniffled again. “Yes. The boy that I love. You remember? The one I told you about when we faced Glaciator.” She paused, happily lulling herself in the cathartic feeling of the purr. “I’ve never been able to tell him up to now. And I knew I was setting myself up to fail, because he’s told me before that he loves someone else. But I drank a couple of drinks too many; he was so kind to drive me home, and was being nice with me. So I just... told him.”

A sense of déjà vu hit Chat Noir. He gasped almost too loud, causing Ladybug to look at him with a puzzled frown on her face. He put a hand on her shoulder and with the other, he lifted her chin so she would look into his eyes. “What did he say? Did he reject you? If he made fun of you in any way, tell me his name and I’ll haunt him in his sleep forever.”

Despite the pain that he could read in her eyes, Ladybug genuinely smiled at the remark. “Thank you, Chat Noir,” she said. “But no, he didn’t reject me.”

Now it was his turn to be puzzled. “Then, why are you crying?”

“He didn’t say anything , minou. He just sat there in his car in silence until we reached my house. I even waited a couple of minutes before getting out. I said bye to him and he didn’t respond. I ran inside feeling horrible. I… feel as if I’ve ruined not only my chances of being with him but also our friendship, which I have cherished for the last four years. All because I drank too much. I’m so stupid.” She looked down and moved away from him. Sniffling some more, she stared out at the twinkling lights of the City of Love .

“That’s funny,” he said bitterly. When he said that, she gasped and looked at him shocked.

“What do you find funny, Chat Noir?”

He stretched his arms behind him and leaned back, allowing his gaze to get lost admiring the beautiful full moon that towered in the dark sky. “Today I went to a birthday party organised for one of my friends. We drank a little too much and it had become very late, so I offered one of my friends a lift. God forbid that she walked home as tipsy as she was and someone took advantage of her. She’s too dear to my heart to allow it to happen.”

“Oh,” she said, “o-okay?”

“I was driving her home. Well, my driver was; I was sitting with her in the back.” His hand reached for the nape of his neck and his gaze darted down. “She was telling me how grateful she was that I gave her a lift and suddenly, she told me that she loved me. A-and I didn’t know what to do, or what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.”

She gasped at his words. His gaze darted to her briefly, and the intensity in her eyes made him sweat. She stared at him as if her life depended on his next sentence.

“And…?” she pressed.

Was it getting hot here, or was it only him? He dared another peek at her face; she was still looking at him intensely. “And… nothing. The car stopped in front of her place. I waited until she had gone inside before asking the driver to go. When I got home, I had to transform and get out because I didn’t understand what was going on with my feelings.”

“Why?” she asked in a choked whisper.

He could hardly breathe. “Be-because I was confused. I’d never thought she liked me. She always acted as if I was intimidating her. When we met, we started off on the wrong foot. So I really thought that she hated me, and probably only put up with me because of our friends.” Ladybug gasped loudly and looked up at him, her eyes as big as saucers. “I couldn’t believe that a person as amazing as her would think anything at all of one as insignificant as me.”

He turned around and looked straight into her eyes. “She was my first friend. I didn’t want to ruin that friendship. I messed up badly enough with my first girlfriend, being so indecisive and never letting myself go, until she got fed up and told me she had found someone else. I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with her too, because—” His mouth went dry; he gulped awkwardly and licked his lips.

“Because?” He could hear the breathlessness in her tone. He could see how hopeful her gaze was as it met his, how tense her back was as it straightened. He internally screamed. God, he couldn't believe it. This woman loved him. For real!

“Be-because she was important to me. I didn’t want to lose her.” He grabbed her hand, a tinge of pink dusting her cheeks as he locked his gaze to hers. “The truth is that I love her. I’ve loved her all along. Only, I was too blind to see it. I’m such a fool, Marinette .”

The sound of her gasp resounded in the silence of the night like a slap in the face.

“The girl who didn’t like my jokes, the one I told you about the day we were coming back from the wax museum. That girl was you .” He gulped seeing the tears staining her cheeks once again. She stared straight through to his soul in silence, crying quietly for a time that felt endless. Why wasn’t she talking?

“We’re idiots,” she eventually said, the shadow of a smile curling the corner of her lips.

“No, Buginette. I’m the only idiot I can see.”

The smile that had been curling her lips widened. “Silly chaton. There’s an even bigger idiot sitting right in front of you.” She took a big breath, exhaling slowly. “Be-because the boy I rejected you for the day we fought Glaciator—”

“Yes?” His ears perked up and he couldn’t help but lean towards her.

“Th-that b-boy… was… Adrien Agreste .” She looked up from behind her eyelashes, a deep blush dusting her cheeks when she saw the massive grin that spread on his lips. “I-I’ve loved you from the day you gave me your umbrella. I tried so hard to let go of you, b-but I’ve never been able to.”

His eyes widened as his mouth opened in a small o. “Y-you mean my first day at school?

She nodded, her red cheeks almost glowing in the darkness. He gawked at her beautifully flushed face for a long time, admiring how her porcelain skin shone bright in the pale light of the full moon. The stain of her tears like crystal reflecting the moonlit night. He looked at her for so long that her redness changed to pallor and her eyebrows furrowed into a frown.

“What’s wrong, minou?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He gulped and closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath as he reminded himself to breathe. “I’m so happy.”

She smiled softly seeing the way his lip trembled. “C-can I kiss you?” she asked.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. His eyes sprang open; he smirked, and his tone turned teasing as he tried to hide his shock. “I always thought I was going to be the one to ask you .”

The soft smile never left her lips; she inched closer to him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, taking in the soft shaking under her touch. Her hands held his neck by the nape, pulling him in until there were only millimeters between them. They could feel the tickling of each other’s breath on their lips, both hesitating to close the gap.

“And tell me, minou.” Her nose brushed his, his heart clawing against his chest as her whispered words caused wild fluttering in his stomach. “What answer did you expect me to give you?”

His senses were overwhelmed with the scent of hot chocolate and sugary treats in her breath, with only the smallest tinge of alcohol.

He was still pondering on an answer when their lips met, and any residue of coherent thought dissolved from his mind. He would think about what to say later. Right now he was finally kissing the girl he loved.

Nothing else mattered. Nothing at all.

Fin

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Author’s Note:

Hi! I know, I know, I will end up with not one. Not two. But THREE updates today. I’m definitely spoiling you, don’t expect this every week (I would die LOL). But I had written this story a little while back prior to my submission for the New Beginning zine (they were asking for a piece of less than 2000 words and i had never written one before, so I had to see if I could write something that short before committing to a submission!). Unfortunately I wasn’t selected, which means that you get this story now and not in January 2022, are you happy? ^-^

Hope you’ll like it. Again, a bit different from what I’ve ever written, but more my style than the Visiting Hours one. Please let me know your thoughts! Any kind of comment (or kudos, favs, follows, bookmark… anything) is very welcome.

Last but not least, if you read this and you’re not part of our wonderful Discord server already, but you enjoy reading, writing and talking about Miraculous, please join our Discord server, Miraculous Fanworks . See you there soon!

[echo-bleu]

carve our names with fire

Clary gave Alec a wedding gift before losing her memories and her runes. Alec does with it what he does best: change the world to right an injustice (and become a BAMF immortal warlock along the way).

Alec & Clary Brotp with a side of Immortal Husbands, Angst and Fluff and Emotional Hurt/Comfort. Betaed by Bsgoddess (SorryTheUsernamesTaken). Takes off after Alec and Magnus announced their wedding, but the show happened over 3-ish years and the wedding is about a week after they come back from Edom, not the next day (because Timeline). The last part was loosely inspired by prompts on the Malec Discord Server, though it grew more world-building than I expected.

Read on AO3.

“You two will make amazing husbands.”

Alec looks up from his paperwork, realizing that he’s been unconsciously twirling his ring while reading. He didn’t hear Clary come into his office, but she’s leaning against the door frame, a small smile on her face.

They haven’t had time to talk properly since the announcement of Alec and Magnus’ wedding, with Jonathan wreaking havoc all over the world. But Jonathan is dead now, thanks to Clary.

“Thank you,” he grins at her sincerely. “I know it’s a little rushed, but with everything that’s happened, we decided we didn’t want to wait for the next catastrophe. At this pace, we’ll never find time to plan a proper wedding.”

“That’s fair,” Clary snorts. “We never seem to get a break.”

They’re still reeling from the deaths of several hundred Shadowhunters, just days ago. Alec has done his best to go to as many Rites of Mourning as he could, especially for people he knew, but even he couldn’t make it to every one of them. After being surrounded by so much grief, he’s more than ready for a slice of happiness. Magnus is in a frenzy preparing everything for the wedding tomorrow, and Alec can’t wait.

“I’m sure it’s going to be beautiful,” Clary continues, walking into the office fully. She closes the door behind her, and Alec frowns. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Of course,” Alec gestures for her to sit on the couch, while he stands up and comes around his desk. He sits down beside her. “What is it?”

Clary looks down at her lap, biting her lip, and Alec feels dread pooling his stomach. She’s so uncharacteristically quiet that it can only mean bad news.

“I haven’t told anyone else yet,” she starts. “I don’t want to ask you to keep it a secret, but I can’t carry it on my own anymore.”

Alec places a hesitant hand on her arm. They rarely touch, but it seems appropriate. “Clary, what’s wrong?”

“I saw my mom the other day,” Clary breathes out.

Alec stares in shock. He lets go of Clary’s arm and glances down at his hand, the same hand that once ripped Jocelyn Fairchild’s heart out of her chest. Even now, almost two years later, he doesn’t feel clean of that. He can still feel the blood, see her face in his nightmares, Clary’s face accusing him. He has plenty of newer traumas to dream about, and it’s started to fade, but it’s not gone.

“What?” he croaks out. Is Clary having the same nightmares? Is she seeing things? It doesn’t match the way she said it, with that intense conviction in her eyes.

Clary’s eyes widen like she just realized how that sounded. “Not like… She was a...ghost, maybe? I don’t know. She felt real. She said she was sent by the Angels to give me a message.”

“A message,” Alec repeats slowly.

“I know how it sounds, but I think that’s the truth,” Clary says. “Because what she told me would happen...it’s started.”

“Clary, I don’t understand.”

She closes her eyes, her face screwed up in anguish. “She said that my rune ability was against the wish of the Angels and that if I kept using it, they’d take it away. They’d take everything away. Everything that makes me a Shadowhunter.”

Alec blinks for a moment, trying to make sense of it. “When was that?” he asks.

“The day after we got back from Edom.”

“You used a rune to kill Jonathan,” Alec breathes.

Clary looks up at his face then and nods minutely. She rolls up her sleeve, showing off unmarred skin where Alec saw a Silent Brother draw the angelic rune just a year ago. “It’s already started,” she murmurs. “They’re fading. One by one.”

“So you’re being...deruned? No,” Alec realizes. It’s different. Deruning is a Nephilim punishment, a human one. It strips them of their runes, but not of their identity, of their blood. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“I think…” Clary hesitates, tears falling down her cheeks. “I think when it’s over, I’m going to be mundane. Fully. Without the Sight, and any memories of the Shadow World.”

“Fuck, Clary,” Alec mutters. “There must be something we can do—”

“I don’t think we can go against the Angels’ wish, Alec.”

Alec closes his eyes, his mind desperately running through possibilities and scenarios. He doesn’t see a solution. She’s right, the Angels’ wish is untouchable, they all know that. There’s no army to fight, no law to circumvent, no obstacle to overcome.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and feels the knot in his throat grow until it’s nearly choking him. He’s not ready to lose another friend, not now. And Jace… Fuck. Jace will be devastated. Izzy, too. None of them can take another disaster.

He takes in Clary’s red and puffy eyes, the way she’s looking at him like a lifeline. She’s become a friend, over the years. They didn’t start that way, but they’ve grown close. She’s the person closest to Alec outside of his family and Magnus. He blinks back tears.

“You’ll still be alive,” he murmurs. “But—”

“I’ll forget you. All of this,” she gestures around them. “Everything. I’m scared, Alec.”

Alec holds out his hand, and she grips it tightly in hers. He covers them with his other hand. “How long?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I only have two runes left, so not long. Tomorrow, maybe the day after.”

Alec closes his eyes. She might not even make it to the wedding. “Fuck,” he repeats.

“I don’t want to forget,” Clary murmurs, sobbing.

“It’s going to be okay,” Alec says softly. Neither of them believes it.

At least she’ll be okay, most likely. If she forgets everything, loses her angel blood, she’ll be just another mundane. She’ll be safe. Alec tries hard to hang onto that and not on the pain to come.

Because if he even lets himself imagine it, he’ll crumble.

“Why tell me first?” he asks.

Clary hesitates, biting her lip. Her sobs have receded, though tears are still running down her cheeks. She sniffles. “You’re in charge of the Institute, so you need to know. For, you know, patrols and stuff. I didn’t want you to be caught by surprise.”

Alec swallows, touched by her foresight. It’s hard to remember sometimes that she’s the same girl who once trampled on every rule without care. She still doesn’t follow orders blindly, but she’s come to care about the Institute and its Shadowhunters like they’re her family.

And in a few days, none of that growth will matter anymore. She’ll be gone. Alec wants to retch at the injustice of it all. She’s come so far, and this punishment is truly unfair.

But then, why should the Angels be fairer than the Nephilim? Alec once sat in this same office waiting for his sister to be convicted of treason and deruned. He watched his mother be stripped of her runes and her identity. Clary herself was sentenced to death for bringing Jace back to life.

They both know all too well that life isn’t fair.

“There’s another reason,” Clary says after a moment of silence. “I wanted to give you something. It’s a wedding gift, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold on until then, so I wanted to give it to you now.”

She pulls back her hands and takes a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. Alec carefully unfolds it, expecting some kind of drawing, but what jumps out at him is a rune, carefully inked onto the thick paper. One he doesn’t recognize.

“I can still create runes, even if I don’t dare activate them,” Clary explains. “It will work, I know it.”

“What is it?” Alec asks. It has similar elements to the Alliance rune, Clary’s most beautiful invention to date, but it’s also different, rounder, and more complex.

“I didn’t give it a name,” Clary says. “You can name it if you want. Or keep it to yourself and never use it. It’s your choice.”

“You’re rambling,” Alec says, almost amused despite the gravity of the moment.

“Sorry. It works kind of like the Alliance rune, but it requires a strong emotional bond. There are elements of the Wedding rune and the Parabatai rune in it.”

Alec tilts his head, and he can recognize it now, the familiar runes almost intertwined with each other.

“Shared between two people,” Clary says slowly, “it should bind souls and bodies together. You’d share blood, powers, emotions. And it’s permanent.”

Alec’s eyes widen as he takes in the implications of that. “Sharing powers…”

“Yes. If you do it with Magnus, you should be able to share his eternal youth.”

“Clary, this is—” Alec breathes, unable to formulate his overwhelming gratitude. “It’s an incredible gift.”

Clary swallows. “I wanted you to have it before—” she gestures vaguely. “I didn’t talk about it earlier because I wasn’t sure I could make a rune that powerful, but I know this one will work.”

Alec closes his eyes briefly to clear them of tears and pulls her into a hug. She melts into his chest, sobbing. “I want you to know that I’m incredibly grateful for everything you did for us,” he says over her shoulder. “We owe you so much.”

“Even if I didn’t obey the rules?” she hiccups. “I caused you a lot of trouble.”

“But you saved us over and over too,” Alec says. “You brought Jace back to life. You’re the reason we got Magnus back. You’ve been through so much in the past few years, but you’re still here coming up with the most incredible gift for my wedding, even when you’re running out of time…”

“I can’t tell Jace and Izzy,” Clary sobs into his shoulder. “Izzy just asked me to be her parabatai. And Jace… I can’t say goodbye. It’s too hard.”

Alec hugs her tighter. “It’s okay. I’ll tell them for you if you want. Anything you need.”

“I love them. I love you. I love you all so much. To think that I won’t remember anything…”

Alec runs a hand through her hair, gently. “We’ll make sure that you’re alright. And… I’ll keep looking. Maybe there’s something we can do to make the Angels let you come back. If not, maybe we can figure out how to bring you back ourselves. I won’t give up.”

“Thank you,” Clary murmurs. “Take care of Jace for me. He’ll need you.”

“I will. I promise.”

They hold each other until Clary’s sobs subside, and she’s able to compose herself. Alec keeps a tight grip on his own emotions, even though they threaten to spill over. He’s long learned to compartmentalize, and he can’t afford to break down in the middle of a workday. But before he goes back home to Magnus that night, he takes out the folded sheet of paper again and studies it until his sight goes blurry and he has tears running down his cheeks. He goes to the roof with his bow, working his anger into the arrows he sends out in the sky, and he runs to Magnus’ loft without a speed run, his lungs burning.

When Magnus asks him what’s wrong, he can only shake his head and hug him tight.

 *

 He’s dancing with Magnus when Clary leaves. He’s tried to keep an eye on her most of the night, once the ceremony was done, but he misses her running out and only realizes she’s gone when Jace starts to look for her.

The party is coming to an end. Alec excuses himself to Magnus for a while and he tracks Clary down, two blocks away, where he finds her looking around her in confusion.

“Who are you?” she asks when he calls her name. “Don’t come any closer!”

Alec sighs, the knot in his throat threatening to explode, and he raises his hands in a gesture of peace. “I don’t mean any harm,” he says. “You just seemed lost.”

“I’m—” She looks around again, frantically. “I don’t know where I am.”

“I’ll call you a cab, okay?” Alec offers. He falters, realizing that Clary doesn’t have a home to go to anymore. Jocelyn’s dead, and Clary will have to suffer the loss of her mother all over again. “Is there anyone you can call? A friend?”

“Yeah,” Clary says. She pats her dress. “I’ve...I think I lost my phone.”

“I’ll lend you mine,” Alec says. “I’m Alec, by the way.”

“Clary.”

Alec forces the pain away and attempts a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

 *

 “I told you you’d make amazing husbands.”

Alec looks up from his paperwork in surprise, and he’s overtaken by a strong sense of deja-vu. It isn’t the same office or even the same city, but the way Clary is leaning against the door frame reminds him exactly of the day before she left. She seems aware of the parallel, grinning at him conspiratorially.

“You did,” he smiles. “Welcome back, Clary.”

She looks different, and yet the same. Her skin is free of runes, and she has a new haircut that makes her look older, but there’s the same light in her eyes. It’s been a year. A year of Jace moping around the Institute, his pain a constant tug on the parabatai bond. A year of missing her, more than Alec never thought he would.

“Thank you.”

Jace called Alec just hours after Clary recognized him at her show, three weeks ago, but Alec hasn’t been able to join them in New York yet. She regained her memories quickly, in only a few days, once it started. Jace and Izzy have been keeping him updated.

“So that’s where it went,” Clary says, staring at the large abstract painting on the wall. “I thought it was you and Magnus, but I wasn’t sure. It’s hard to reconcile those memories together.”

Alec looks up at it, at the signature that looks suspiciously like a rune in the shape of a C and F in the bottom right corner. “It was us,” he confirms. They’ve been to every single one of her school’s shows, buying multiple paintings while having to pretend they didn’t know her. “We have more of them at home. Magnus felt it was a way to keep you with us. He’s missed you a lot.”

“I know,” Clary says. “We had lunch a couple of days ago. He didn’t tell you?”

Alec laughs. “He did. He recounted every minute of it. He was excited.”

Clary tilts her head playfully. “Is he the only one who missed me?”

“I’m pretty sure Jace thought of you once or twice. Izzy, too,” Alec smirks. “Of course we all missed you. Come here,” he stands up and opens his arms.

She bounces up to him and hugs him tight around the middle, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders. Alec laughs and leans into the embrace. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs.

“I’d say I’ve missed you too, but—” Clary shrugs, pulling away to look up at him. “I felt like something was missing, the whole time. And ugh, I didn’t remember you were so tall.”

Alec raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t remember me at all,” he deadpans. “More seriously, I meant to come to see you, but things have been hectic over here.”

“I heard you made Inquisitor. That’s amazing, Alec!”

“Yeah, it’s, uh, very recent,” Alec blushes. He still hasn’t learned to take a compliment, but his promotion is something he can take pride in. It’s an incredible testimony of how far the Clave has come in just a couple of years. Not so long ago, a Shadowhunter who chose to marry a Downworlder would have been cast out or at least kept carefully out of any politically significant position. And now he’s here, barely turned twenty-five, in the second highest Clave office. “Magnus is the High Warlock of Alicante now,” he adds. Because of that, the Clave asking his husband to help Downworlders move back into Idris after centuries of fleeing the Shadowhunters’ increasing restrictions, is something Alec will never not be proud of.

“You haven’t changed,” Clary observes, smiling. “I was worried you’d turned into a high and mighty prick, now that you’re such a big name.”

Alec rolls his eyes and snorts. “I’m not Jace,” he reminds her. “Come on, let’s sit down. Do you have some time? I can take my lunch break, there’s a restaurant around the corner.”

“Sure,” Clary nods. “I have an appointment with the Silent Brothers to determine if my body’s ready to take runes again, but I came early to see you.”

“Great. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

 *

 “Did you use it? The rune?” Clary leans in over her dessert in curiosity. They’ve been catching up for the past hour in a booth at the back of the restaurant, and it almost feels like they saw each other yesterday, for how comfortable and easy it is to get back into their banter. Alec has missed this.

He leans back in his seat, his stomach full. “Yeah,” he says, placing a hand over his heart where the rune is located. “We exchanged them two months ago.”

“Does it work?” Clary asks with a spark in her eyes.

Alec turns his hand palm up over the table and focuses. It doesn’t come easily to him, not yet. He’s been training with Magnus, but magic is much harder than it looks, so they’ve been focusing on controlling his random outbursts whenever he’s stressed more than developing his active magic.

Blue strands of light encircle his hand briefly, leaving in their wake a yellow rose. He hands it to Clary, who gives him a wide smile and turns it in her hands to observe it. “Wow!” she exclaims. “Yer a wizard, Alec.”

Alec bites on his finger to contain his laughter. He’s learned far too many mundane cultural references through osmosis with Simon and weekly movie nights at the loft, while Clary was gone.

“We had my blood and magic analyzed by the researchers at the Spiral Labyrinth, and they say I’m immortal too,” he says. “Or more exactly, tied to Magnus’ immortality. But since he’s tied to my life force too, it makes us functionally invincible. Someone would have to kill us both at the same time for it to stick.”

“That’s amazing,” Clary breathes. “More than I even thought of when I made the rune.”

“We have a lot to thank you for,” Alec reaches out to pat her hand. “More than you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“This rune allowed us to make huge strides in magical theory, and specifically angelic magic. It’s part of the reason why I’ve been so busy because I’m also working with our researchers on several projects.” Alec pauses, realizing he’s getting ahead of himself and Clary can’t follow. “Okay, so when you gave me the rune, I told Magnus about it right after our wedding. He was blown away that you would give us such a gift, by the way. I’m sure he’ll want to thank you himself.”

Clary smiles. “He’ll have plenty of time for that, now that I’m back for good,” she says.

Alec nods. “Since you said it was permanent, we took our time to make the decision. Immortality is not something to be taken lightly. For me, it wasn’t even really a question, but Magnus wanted me to be sure that it was what I wanted.”

“That makes sense,” Clary nods.

“We also wanted to make sure that the rune would work the way you said it did, that it wouldn’t have any…unforeseen side effects.”

Clary frowns. “I never had a problem with my runes.”

“Honestly, Clary, you used them mostly in emergencies, with no regard for safety. Maybe it was warranted then, but this time we weren’t willing to gamble both of your lives on it. Especially when it came to using a rune on a warlock.”

“Of course,” Clary says sheepishly. “Ugh, I was rather impulsive, wasn’t I?”

“You could say that,” Alec grumbles, remembering all the times her hasty decisions landed him in hot water with his parents or the Clave. “Anyway, we researched the hell out of it. Every text we could find on rune creations, on the wedding rune and its variations, we even looked into warlock archives that hadn’t been opened for centuries. And that’s how I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“How you created runes. And why the Angels hated it.”

 *

 “This is what we’re working on,” Alec says, letting Clary into the lab. “It’s all confidential, but since you’re the one who started it all, I figured you deserve to know. And I’m the one who decides who is read in on it anyway.”

Clary looks around in wonder. The room has some of the equipment she’d expect in a lab and some she doesn’t recognize, but what attracts her gaze is the large corkboard in the middle, covered with sheets of paper.

On each of them is a rune. A rune she’s never seen before.

“They’re all new runes?” she asks.

“Yes,” Alec answers, leaning his back against the wall. “What clued me in was how you used elements of several existing runes to create a new one. I copied down every rune from the Gray Book and all of your runes and I started looking for patterns. We’ve always known that some basic elemental runes existed, but not that they could be combined. It took me a few months, but I came up with this.” He points at a rune at the top left of the board, which Clary can see is based on the Deflect rune, with two additional strikes going through it.

“Of course you would,” she mutters. “That’s some kind of armor rune, isn’t it?”

Alec smiles. “As it turns out, everyone can create runes, at least in theory. It’s very hard and requires a strong theoretical background unless you’re named Clary Fairchild and you have additional angel blood. Or maybe just an amazing instinct, I don’t know. Yes, this one imitates armored plates around your body. It’s more effective at stopping blows than the regular Deflect rune, but it doesn’t stop people from tracking you.”

“That’s amazing,” Clary says.

“As soon as I saw it work, I told Magnus and we worked on it together. It’s the biggest discovery about angelic magic that we’ve made in centuries.”

“Why did no one find it before?”

Alec pushes away from the wall to face her fully. “Soon after I used this rune for the first time, I started experiencing the same thing you did: push back from the Angels. Even drawing normal runes became harder. We got scared that I might be deruned like you were, so Magnus and I decided to go ahead with your rune, bind ourselves together. If I had magic, the Angels couldn’t take away my Sight or my memories.”

“That sounds like a plan me or Jace would have come up with, not you,” Clary quips.

“Yeah, well, things were evolving quickly. I could barely hold a stele at that point,” Alec says, frowning.

Clary blinks. “Wow, the Angels really were angry.”

“The bond fixed it. I’m out of reach now, they can’t do anything to me. And now that I knew what I was looking for, I found accounts of other people to whom it happened, who lost their Nephilim blood because of this. You have to read between the lines because it became taboo to even talk about it, but it looks like the Angels don’t want us to have this ability. Jonathan Shadowhunter probably had it, he had more pure Angel blood than you and he’s the one who created all the original runes, but since then, no Shadowhunter has been able to create new runes. Until you.”

“But I got punished for it,” Clary says, wringing her hands. Her memories of the last few days before she was stripped of her runes don’t feel fresh like the events happened yesterday, but they also don’t feel like they’re a year old. She can still see her mother’s ghost, or whatever it was, telling her what would happen if she kept using new runes.

It’s been a year, but without her memories, she hasn’t had a chance to process all the trauma, all the emotions.

“Yeah,” Alec sighs. “You certainly didn’t deserve it, but you were.”

Clary shakes her head, trying to get rid of the darker thoughts. “Obviously you didn’t stop there,” she says, gesturing at the board. “So what did you do?”

“Well, since my warlock blood protects me, I started thinking about who else might be protected. I reached out to Helen Blackthorn, you remember her?”

“Oh, she’s half-Seelie, isn’t she?”

“Yes. She and her brother. They were both willing to try working with us, especially since Magnus and I were fairly sure we could stop the process if we were wrong and the Angels were able to harm them. As it turns out, they did fine. So I found more Shadowhunters with Downworlder blood. At this point, we have eight people creating new runes, including me.”

“That’s incredible,” Clary says. She looks closer at the runes on the board. She can instinctively tell their purpose, which is proof that her ability hasn’t gone away. Alec lets her observe them for a while in silence, and she thinks she can discern a pattern in there like the runes have a signature. “That’s yours,” she points at a rune in the middle of the board, once she’s fairly sure she’s understanding her instincts right. “And this one.”

“You’re right,” Alec says, sounding impressed.

“You have a...tell,” Clary smirks, looking at him over her shoulder. “They feel distinctively you. I can probably find Magnus’ too, but I’d need a place to start since I’ve never seen him draw a rune.”

“Here,” Alec points to one on the right side of the board. “Can you tell because of your rune ability, or because you’re an artist?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” Clary shrugs. “I’m not sure. I should have known this was Magnus’,” she laughs when she looks at the rune. The flourish and artistic strokes look exactly like something Magnus would go for.

“We definitely need you in our group,” Alec mutters, jotting down a note on a pad on the desk beside him.

“I don’t know,” Clary says, taking a step back away from the board. “I don’t want to tempt fate. I don’t think I could stand to lose my memories again.”

“No, of course,” Alec says. “But I don’t think it would happen.”

“Why?”

“Magnus’ theory is that if enough Shadowhunters start creating runes, the Angels will just have to accept it since they can’t cast us out. Since our wedding, there are more and more mixed Nephilim and Downworlder couples, so there will probably be a whole generation of people with mixed blood. They’ll be able to create runes.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Clary asks.

“I don’t think it was a coincidence that the Angels chose to give you your memories back now. The breakthroughs that we’ve made aren’t going away. I think it’s their way of telling us that they won’t fight us anymore.”

Clary blinks at him, trying to process that idea. She remembers asking Maryse, at the wedding, if the Angels could forgive. The picture of the Angels that Alec paints is cold and calculating, matching with what Clary saw of Raziel — and to some extent, even Ithuriel. What if she wasn’t forgiven, but instead simply reinstated in her rightful place? What if Alec managed the unthinkable, and made the Angels themselves change their minds?

“Is that possible? I mean — wow.”

“Why not?” Alec shrugs.

Clary has a sudden flashback of the Alec she first met, over four years ago, who was terrified of coming out and upsetting the order of things, who was killing himself trying to meet his parents’ expectations. The man standing in front of her now has grown so much, just like Clary has, that they’re barely recognizable. To hear him talking so casually about changing the world-changing immutable laws such as those of the Angels?

But then, they’ve changed so much already, haven’t they? They participated in the destruction of Edom. They defeated the Mother of Demons. They explored and even created whole new sections of magic. Alec and Magnus’ marriage and their careers changed the laws of the Clave and opened the way for so much more.

They’ve already changed the world. So why not a little more, indeed?

Clary jumps at Alec’s neck, making him grunt in surprise. “This is amazing,” she says. “You’re amazing. And I’m so glad I’m back.”

“Me too,” Alec laughs, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Welcome home, Clary.”

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 15 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So we’re back in Calgary folks. I’m just cranking away at this story lately and all of your thoughts are so appreciated. If anyone has any predictions for things, I’d love to hear them. 

Warnings: smut (oral/other foreplay/risky/semipublic), cursing

Word Count: 3,192

~~~~

Just like that, it was all over. You’d spent ten days in Iceland with Cale. Ten days that you were never going to forget. After spending your last morning visiting some lighthouses, another black sand beach, and a bridge spanning a rift valley, you were climbing back on a plane to fly to Calgary. Your little oasis with Cale was about to be broken by the harsh realities of the real world. 

Your bed being cold without Cale sleeping beside you. 

Your work email overflowing to the point you didn’t even know where to start.

Having five days to plan a Canada Day party which you’d forgotten you’d agreed to host.

Oh...and your parents coming to stay with you in two days. 

_______

The fact that you were able to stand in your backyard surrounded by friends and family July 1st was something that would never have happened without help. 

You hadn’t heard from Cale all day Saturday, but when your phone buzzed with a text on Sunday morning you couldn’t help the warm feelings that rose inside you.

Please tell me I’m not the only one sleeping like shit…

He certainly wasn’t. But at least he could nap after training...you weren’t nearly that lucky and you told him so. That led to a conversation about the million things you suddenly had to do in the next few days and how you weren’t sure you could get it all done. 

And because he was legitimately the best boyfriend, item by item, Cale volunteered to help you check things off your list. He went to the grocery store with a list of all the food needed. He went to the liquor store for beer, wine, and other spirits. He and Taylor came over to do yard work so that you didn’t have to worry about it. He even picked your parents up from the airport when you had a last minute showing pop up. 

Needless to say, you weren’t overstating it when you said Cale literally held your sanity in his hands. 

For the first time since the plane home, you were able to steal a kiss as your parents made their way into the house after Cale dropped them off. 

“Add this to the tally of things I owe you for.” You’d declared. 

“I accept payment in kisses.” Cale teased. A quick glance around revealed you were alone for at least the moment, and you pressed up onto your toes letting your lips seek out his. 

“That’s all I can do right now…” You murmured, looking over your shoulder again. “But I’ll make the rest up to you later I swear.” 

“It’s fine, sweetheart.” Cale grinned. “I’ll see you in a couple days. Enjoy time with your parents.” 

You’d given your parents the grand tour of the house, setting them up in the guest room. Your mom hadn’t even sat down before she was asking what she could do to help prepare for the party. 

Yeah...you had some good helpers. As your yard started to fill up around lunchtime, you grabbed a wine cooler, starting to mingle. Your parents were there, Cale’s parents and brother were coming as were his grandparents, some of your parents’ friends were planning on stopping by, and quite a few of Cale and Taylor’s friends had also been invited. It was definitely the kind of party you had envisioned when you first stepped foot out here. 

“Happy Canada Day!” Cale greeted, appearing suddenly behind you and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. 

“You guys are here!” You exclaimed, twisting to wrap him in a quick hug, careful not to let it linger too long. 

“Yep. The whole crew is here.” Cale agreed, motioning to where his mom was eagerly engaged in a hug with yours having not seen each other in quite a while. “And I see you’re trying to make me pop a boner in front of everyone.” He whispered, his eyes raking up your body quickly. 

“It’s just a dress Cale.” You whispered back, eyes teasing. “Nothing special.” 

“Except your legs look a mile long.” He grumbled, causing a laugh to spill from your throat. 

“Oh suck it up buttercup.” You said, shaking your head. 

“Suck what up?” Gary inquired, moving over to hug you, your dad right behind him. 

“I told Cale he was in charge of setting up the lawn games and he’s whining about it.” You declared, excuse spilling from your lips on the fly. The look on Cale’s face was priceless and you struggled to keep your expression level as he looked at you. Gary quickly shook his head, chastising his oldest son and you mouthed the word ‘sorry’ at Cale as he shook his head and moved to grab Taylor to help him. 

Playing hostess kept you quite busy and with so many people around you really couldn’t sneak much time with Cale. It had already been a couple hours and you hadn’t even spoken to him beyond the brief conversation when they arrived. Watching as he played spike ball with his brother and some friends across the yard caused that familiar ache to spread through your body telling you that you were going to combust if you couldn’t at least properly kiss him. 

After a few more minutes, Cale disappeared inside and you excused yourself from conversation declaring that you needed to bring up some more drinks from the basement. 

Closing the back door, you waited at the top of the basement stairs for Cale to return and when you spotted him you gently tugged him toward you. 

“Come ‘ere.” You murmured quietly in case anyone else was in ear shot inside. Pulling him all the way down into the basement, you guided him around the corner before stretching to kiss him deeply. “Hi.” You greeted your forehead resting against his when you finally pulled away. 

“Hey sweet girl.” Cale replied, his hands easily settling along your hips. 

“Needed to kiss you.” You mused. “I miss you.” 

“Miss you too...but you look like you’re enjoying yourself. This is one of the things you wanted.” Cale acknowledged. 

“It is and I am.” You agreed, your fingers running down his stomach feeling his muscles constrict under your touch. “You look like you’re having fun too. You look pretty sexy out there.” 

“Don’t start something we can’t finish.” Cale groaned, quickly responding to your tone of voice. 

“Who said I can’t finish it?” You questioned. “We just have to be quick.” As you spoke you were already sinking to your knees, your fingers dipping down to Cale’s shorts. 

“Y/N...you don’t….shit.” Cale breathed, his hips bucking as you took him into your mouth after sliding his shorts and boxer briefs down just enough. Taking everything you had learned from the last time, you bobbed your head up and down Cale’s length, your fist stroking what you couldn’t take. It was a quick and dirty blow job, Cale’s cheeks flushing a deep crimson as you ran your tongue along the veins of his cock each time you pulled off to breathe. 

Sucking the tip of his cock you peeked up at him, watching as his head fell back against the wall behind him. 

“Gonna cum…” Cale whispered. 

“That’s what I want handsome. Cum down my throat.” You mumbled, sinking back down on his length. As you pushed the limits of your gag reflex, you felt Cale’s cock twitch before ropes of semen spilled into your mouth and throat. Swallowing as quickly as you could, you tried not to gag or choke before finally pulling off him, a mix of saliva and semen linking your lips to his dick. 

Wiping your lips, you gently worked Cale back into his clothes as he stood panting above you. 

“You’re insane.” Cale mumbled as he finally leaned down to kiss you. “Our parents are just outside...my grandparents are outside.” 

“Like the risk of getting caught didn’t just make you cum harder than usual down my throat.” You sassed, fixing your dress to make sure it didn’t look too rumpled. Cale couldn’t fight you because he knew you were right and as you moved across the basement to grab another six pack of beer you felt his eyes linger. 

“Now make yourself useful and grab that case of drinks. I bumped into you on your way back outside and made you come help me. Cover story.” You winked, biting your lip as you made your way back upstairs. 

You had barely got the new beers stuck into the cooler when your mom grabbed you. 

“You haven’t showed us those vacation pictures yet. Laura and I are dying to see them. Grab your computer and we’ll meet you in the living room.” 

Not being given a choice, you nodded and watched as your mom crossed the yard, grabbing Laura and Cale’s grandma. Looking back toward the mixed drink station you saw Cale standing with one of his buddies pouring shots. 

A few quick strides had you at his side.

“Pour me one of those?” You insisted. 

“Everything okay Y/N?” Cale asked, tone neutral though his eyes showed a hint of concern. 

“Just pour me a drink Cale. I’m about to go sit through the vacation slideshow with our moms…” Cale’s friend moved a few steps away but you lowered your voice further before continuing. “...And I’m not doing that with the taste of your cum in my mouth.” 

Cale nearly sputtered, but quickly recovered, pouring you a shot before clinking his glass against yours as you downed them. 

“Wish me luck.” You murmured, shaking your head just slightly as you moved from his side and into the house. In your bedroom, you made doubly sure you had pulled up the correct photo album before you carried your laptop into the living room, hooking it up to the tv. 

For the next half hour you explained the photos when necessary and listened as all of the women in your lives raved on how beautiful they were and what a wonderful trip it must have been. While these photos stirred up so many memories, this wasn’t the album that you’d found yourself looking at repeatedly. No...it was the other album that you loved most of all. The one full of pictures of you and Cale looking so completely head over heels for each other. For now though, that album was something just for you, even if you were looking forward to the day you could print some of the pictures and hang them in your bedroom. 

As you finished, your dad and Gary came barreling into the house wanting to know where everything was to start grilling up dinner. Taking your laptop back to your room, you got the guys everything they needed before leaving them to it. Meanwhile, you finished off the few remaining things that needed done to the sides, pulling those and condiments out of the fridge. 

“What do you mean after everything that happened between Cale and Y/N.” You mom’s voice slowly grew louder and your stomach dropped as you brain raced to catch up with the pieces of conversation you’d missed. 

“Y/N didn’t tell you about Cale’s pregnancy scare with his ex? It caused major strain on their relationship.” 

“No…” You mom insisted as she stepped into the kitchen. You hadn’t mentioned it assuming Laura would and apparently Laura had expected you to and hadn’t herself. 

“Can we not bring up old wounds?” You said, not realizing the snap behind your words. “She was an idiot who really hurt him and we should just be glad that it all worked out the way it did. Things are finally getting back to normal so can we please not drag this out any longer than we already have?” You were done and over with having to think about Cale’s ex… you knew it still hurt him a little even if he pretended it didn’t and you couldn’t help but be defensive and protective. 

Your mom and Laura shared a look, but neither said anything in response, instead asking if there was anything they could do to help. 

“No. I’ve got it. Thank you.” You assured them. You remained in the kitchen, your chest heaving until dinner was completely ready and all of your guests had been told to dig in. Then you slipped into your room, closing the door behind you as you tried to calm your raging emotions. 

After a few minutes, a knock sounded and you expected it to be your mom on the other side. Instead Cale popped his head in before stepping inside and closing the door. His hands rubbed at the back of his neck and his body language drew a sigh from your lips. 

“How much of that did you hear?” 

“Enough.” Cale responded, sitting down next to you on your bed, his arm draping around you. “You okay?” He questioned. 

“I should be asking you that.” You replied flatly. “I’m sorry.” 

“I have no idea what you’re even apologizing for..so don’t.” You couldn’t help but lean into Cale’s body as his fingers traced up and down your arm. “If I kiss you will that help you calm down enough to get some dinner?” He teased, lifting your chin up so that he could ease his mouth over yours gently. Slowly your body relaxed under his kiss and when you broke apart you certainly felt a little bit better. 

“That’s my girl.” Cale grinned, seeing the soft smile reappear on your face. “C’mon.” He prompted, offering a hand out to pull you up off the bed. 

“Hey Cale.” You stopped him, pulling him back toward you. “I don’t think you were wearing this lip color before...probably should fix that.” You smiled, reaching out to rub the makeup off his mouth from your reapplication shortly before. “I’ll be out in a minute.” You assured him as you leaned against your bathroom door wanting to make sure that you didn’t look too out of place. 

No one spoke a word of what had happened during dinner and as the sun started to set the majority of your guests left, leaving just your family and Cale’s as the guys started a small fire in the firepit. You’d stepped inside to use the bathroom and when you returned the only seat left around the fire was on the loveseat beside Cale. 

Settling in beside him you smiled as he widened the spread of his legs so that his thigh was pressing against yours. It was a subtle move but the skin to skin contact was beyond welcome and you were grateful, knowing he worked the seating so the two of you could share. Having grabbed another drink, you felt the pleasant hum of alcohol starting to build after awhile. Around the same time you started to shiver as the outside temperature dropped. 

“Anyone else need a refill?” Cale inquired when he moved to stand up, his own drink empty. A chorus of yeses and nos followed him and when he returned he not only had his arms full of drinks but also the blanket from the back of your couch. Draping the blanket over your lap, Cale handed you a fresh drink making you smile. 

“Your son is trying to get me tipsy Laura.” You joked. 

“You’re already tipsy sunshine.” Cale declared as he dropped back down beside you. “And you’re allowed to be. You worked really hard to pull this together and today’s been pretty awesome.” Cale’s praised was echoed by everyone else and you took it as best you could considering compliments weren’t your thing. 

“I had some help...let’s be fair.” You shrugged. 

“Oh my god. You and my brother are the two most humble people I have ever met.” Taylor groaned. “No wonder you’re best friends.” 

Grinning over at Cale, you let your eyes fall shut after a moment, just enjoying the sounds of your families spending time together. Feeling Cale’s hand slide under the blanket to your inner thigh made your eye pop open and you eyed him carefully. 

‘Just relax.’ He mouthed before jumping back into the conversation. As he spoke, his hands slid under your dress until his fingers were brushing against the fabric of your panties. Laura asked you a question about something, honestly you were too focused on Cale’s hand to remember your answer, but once you had finished Cale’s fingers slid under your underwear. Nimble fingers stroked over your clit and your eyes fluttered shut again. 

Hopefully it just looked like you were sleepy, because you weren’t sure you could pay full attention to what was going on around you when Cale’s hand was doing things like that. 

“Oh.” You gasped, drawing everyone’s attention to you. Cale’s hand stilled as your mom asked if you were okay. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You insisted. “My ankle is still tender and I shifted it wrong.” Your excuse turned the attention to Cale’s heroics at the cave in Iceland and as your families talked about it and how they would have reacted so far from medical attention, Cale’s fingers shifted to curl inside of you. 

Though he couldn’t move much, this was the first time he was touching you since he made love to you that last night of vacation. Considering you were wound tighter than a spring, Cale’s fingers curling inside you as his thumb rubbed against your clit were quickly pushing you toward an orgasm of your own. 

Thankfully the darkness masked the subtle nuances of your face as Cale’s fingers made you fall apart. As you came down from your high, Cale wiping his fingers on either your dress or the blanket you weren’t quite sure, you took another long sip of your drink. Cale had just finger fucked you feet from both of your families who could both see and hear you! And to think he’d said you were insane for going down on him with your families outside! 

Your brain was spinning trying to process what the fuck had just happened and how much you had enjoyed it. The two of you were seriously taking the whole ‘sneaking around like teenagers’ thing to the next level. It was a miracle you hadn’t gotten caught. Lost in thought you missed the fire starting to die out and Gary mentioning that they should probably get going. It wasn’t until Cale pulled you to your feet so his family could hug you that you caught up with reality. 

“I’m gonna help this tipsy one inside real quick and then I’ll meet you at the car.” Cale insisted once hugs had been exchanged. His arm swung under your legs, picking you up bridal style and after weaving through doorways, he gently laid you down on your bed. 

“We’re gonna talk about that later.” You mumbled, yawning softly. 

“Whatever you say sweetheart. Get some sleep.” Cale replied, kissing your forehead as he tucked you in. 

Your bedroom door creaked shut with Cale’s departure as the words fell unconsciously from your lips. 

“Love you.” 

Dress: 

[stellarcat52]

Timeless blue chapter 11

Archie flew ahead as Douxie and Krel hurried behind him. The shattering of glass quickly notified them of where Arthur and Morgana had just jumped out of the window, and where Nari had been frozen solid in a block of ice.

With a quick spell Douxie frees their friend. “Oh, thank you. The order shall surely rip your soul to pieces for this.”

“We’ll work on your pep talks later. I don’t think my little trap was going to last-“ Archie flies in as Douxie speaks.

“The arcane order is back, we’re out of time Douxie.”

“Alright, let’s get Nari back to the others. She’s safer with all of us.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure the order doesn’t”

as if summoned by their name Bellroc and Skrael make their presence known, “Nari!”

“Find you. Go!” Douxie casts his arms back, pushing his friends away from him and their enemies. “Keep running, don’t look back!”

Without the head start the others had, Douxie fell behind the order. His infinite corridor suddenly replaces him as the only thing between them and Nari.

“An infinite corridor eh? Beginners magic. This cannot hold us!”

Douxie let’s a sphere of fire fly past him and into the door that would transport it to behind Skrael. “Buttsnacks!”

“You will die for this!”

Douxie summons his staff, “That was kinda the plan. But it’s worth it, because it means my friends, Krel,” his voice softens as he realizes this is what Krel had feared. Their separation, someone getting hurt, “and Nari can get away!” He finds his courage, saving the world or saving his friends wasn’t a choice he could make. He could make the choice between saving the world and saving himself, although he forced the pain of leaving Krel behind into his stomach.

———

Krel looks behind him immediately after he hears Douxie being pushed down, seeing the infinite corridor go up, even without knowledge of what it is. That barrier would trap Douxie in with two beings more powerful than Krel knew.

“Krel! Douxie will be fine!” Archie had seen more of Douxie’s battles than Krel had, and yet he had to force himself to trust the small dragon.

Even as spells sound from behind them, Nari, Archie, and Krel only spare a few glances back, none of them pausing for more than a moment to try and listen for Douxie’s voice. When they finally got to a place where Archie could safely fly Nari down, Douxie and the Order’s battle is naught but echoes.

Archie glides down and Krel takes inspiration from Morgana in the past to try and levitate himself down. He still falls a great distance, but the Akiridion body is not as fragile as a human one.

Jim and Claire were having a face off, Toby and Steve were off to the side. Krel had never seen such bright human eyes before now, Claire had unnaturally purple eyes that flowed with her own magic.

Krel glances down to where his arms have these magical traces inside, each one glowing and fading as they’re needed or dormant.

As Claire unleashes a great beam of dark magic, Jim falters and gives the whole team hope. This side of him was a result of the order’s magic, if Claire could overpower it and save Jim, surely Douxie, and Morgana, could do the same.

Behind them, Krel saw the gold of Morgana’s magic against Arthur.

“The world isn’t ours anymore, you have failed to destroy it, and I have failed to save it.” The fight between Claire and Jim seemed to fade to background noise, Krel could almost entirely forget about it. “Perhaps they can fare better!” She unleashes another attack. “You are no longer worthy of wielding Excalibur! Magda mani achtenebris kraga doom!” The explosion caused by her spell inturrupted Claire’s concentration and cast Excalibur aside. Just as all seemed to be doing better it was made clear that Excalibur is not what kept Jim tied to the green knight.

“Please Jim, I love you!” Claire’s choking cry almost made Krel jump in to help. “We all do.”

Jim drops Claire after what seemed to be a moment of thought.

———

Douxie was struggling against the order, but he was holding his ground better than he ever thought he could against such powerful legendary creatures. The Order were gloating of his defeat even though the wizard still stood, out of breath albeit. As the order finishes, speaking of a summoning that will happen once they are through with him, Douxie mustered up a final spell.

“Tenebrius...” he started, a blue magic circle being danced to life in each hand and then on the surface on which he stood, “exellium!”

His and the order’s unspoken magic meets, both sides struggling against each other.

Between the magic circle holding his spell together and the mystic glow in his eyes Douxie struggled to see clearly.

“Goodbye, my friends, goodbye Krel.”

He lost the magic keeping him alive and safe from the Order’s attacks. He only hoped what last burst of strength he had given would keep the order away from the other’s far below.

———

Krel watched as Camelot fell, how Claire and Jim got their happy ending. He finally thought things were going up, but as soon as the Order’s lair explodes, and he sees Douxie’s limp body falling through the air, he thinks it foolish for those thoughts to exist.

He was the first to start running. He didn’t bother risking using a portal, Douxie was right about him being untrained.

He still was out of sight of Douxie’s body when he hears that sickening thud.

Claire and Archie had made it there faster. Arch had an ear to Douxie’s chest and with every breath that Douxie must not be breathing his feline features only seem to grow more grim. Krel takes a few moments to get the guts to join the others around him.

He looked down and wished that somehow he could give his core to the human he loved.

Douxie’s body seemed too cold for someone who had only been dead for a few minutes at most. Krel sat down on his knees and pulled Douxie’s head onto his lap. He just stared at him for a minute, tears blurring his vision and too scared to blink them away in case Douxie vanished. He hung his head down, only taking a moment to wipe each of his eyes individually.

“Krel?” Archie caused him to look up, just for a second.

“Why did he have to face them alone?” Krel choked. “I was right there, I could have gone back.”

“That’s just the way Douxie is.” Claire answered, Krel only now noticed she was holding onto one of Douxie’s hands.

Zoe spoke up as she came over to kneel beside them. “Hisirdoux never really learned how to accept help. Not from anyone beside Archie. He always had to them himself, stupid apprentice.”

“Wait!” Archie shouted, pressing an ear to Douxie’s chest again. “His heart!”

Krel could feel the tensing of Douxie’s back muscles as he loses the stiff relaxation of death. His skin grew to a temperature that wasn’t as frightening, but still cold.

It was if Douxie had a second chance, like what a core would have given an Akiridion. Maybe this is something magic could do to humans.

The moment Douxie opened his eyes, Krel stopped caring how. He couldn’t even find the words to say.

“Douxie.” Archie purring into Douxie’s chest. “You brave, foolish boy.”

“Ow!” He yelped as Douxie helped him sit up, shifting to be besides him. “Ow! Everything hurts!”

“Sorry.” Krel mumbled as Douxie looks over at him and grins.

Claire took his attention back for a second. “I can’t believe you’re okay!”

“Barely, seems you’re the one with mine lives!” Douxie let’s Archie rub his head against his cheek. “Don’t you ever do something like that’s again.”

Krel pulls Douxie to his feet, holding him up with his arms. “You scared me you idiot.”

Douxie nearly falls and clutches his chest. “Hey! I just came back from beyond the grave! Be careful.”

“Sorry.” Krel turns his head and kisses Douxie’s cheek. “I’ll protect you next time.”

“I feel like I missed a lot.” Jim spoke up, eyes widening as Claire ran up to hug him, still very happy to just see Jim as a human again.

“Same, but I think we can catch up over brunch.” He looked around again, Krel could see the worry in his eyes. “What about Arthur and Morgana?”

“Squished.” AAARRRGGGHHH looked towards where Excalibur lay imbedded in the stone.”

Of course Toby immediately tried pulling the legendary sword out of the rock it had cut into. To no avail, but he tried nonetheless. Blinky, Douxie, and Claire all urged Jim to try, but his efforts were fruitless as well. Excalibur stayed rooted, and as the group leaves it behind, Jim leaves behind his hope that he may still be a trollhunter, though that might not be the worst thing right now.

———

Zoe and Nari got ready to leave, New York would be gaining two magical beings within a few weeks, and Akiridion 5 would be gaining at least one new human citizen. Claire and Jim were still on the fence of whether or not they wanted to stay or just visit Eli and Aja. Either way after this they knew they wanted to stay together.

Krel and Douxie had told the group they were dating, and Krel got a surprising amount of threats from the almost everyone. AAARRRGGGHHH being an exception but also Jim, Nari, and Toby.

Krel knew that Douxie would get some as soon as Aja and Varvatos were told the news, and Eli would be ready to ask Douxie so many questions about magic that he’d go crazy. Still, nothing could make these two want to risk staying on earth with the Genesis seals one more day, so alongside with Toby, Jim, and Claire, they step into the portal to Akiridion 5 and are whisked across the universe, traveling past planets and stars in mere seconds.

The earth would be safe unless something changed, and although they knew something would, Krel and Douxie were willing to put that to the back of their minds for as long as they can. They are happy, safe, and together.

And as long as Nari is out of the order’s hands, that’s all they care about.

[fr0gi-b0y]

Happy Feet Lore

just made my friend watch happy feet and he was asking me why the penguins were being racist to dancing, which spurred me to come up with an entire history of the penguin population Mumble is from, and then that spiraled into a deep subplot linking all of the characters, and i needed to put it somewhere where others can be enlightened. 

so first off, the reason why the penguins don’t like dancing but are fine with rapping like Seymour did, it’s because of an event known as The Great Ice Break. in the past, the penguins DID sing and dance in harmony, but all of the funky steps caused micro cracks in the ice. one year, during a particularly strong blizzard, the penguins were dancing in their huddle to keep their body temperatures up, and all of the vibrations from their steps caused the ice to break into parts, separating the colony and countless families the vibrations going through the water also alerted a herd of killer whales to their whereabouts. it was a slaughter. the elder penguin, who was the most staunchly against dancing in the movie, was there during that event, and he was able to see how the singing penguins were able to call out to one another through harmonizing and find their way back. since that time he vowed to rid the colony of the dangers of dancing. 

now to the events of the movie. the archetype that mumble represents (outsider, misunderstood, hidden talent) is one that is very common in underdog films, but it is also present among neurodivergent people. Mumble taps his feet even while he walks and in the graduation scene he waves his arms and vocalizes in an excited manner, similar to the way an autistic person might stim. because of how he manifests his emotions and energy and how it goes against the “norm” of singing, he is ostracized and while his parents do try to stick up for him, they are pressured by the rest of the population and try to get him to conform to their traditional way of life(there are some heavy religious undertones which will be discussed more later).

again touching on how Mumble goes against the “norm” and must conform, this is also a common sentiment among the LGBT community. this, pairing with the religious tones of the elder penguins and how Mumble’s juvenile feathers don’t molt at the same time as his peers, implies that he is a “late bloomer” of some sort, or perhaps he is hiding a part of himself that is a part of growing up: sexuality.

on to Mumble’s journey and eventual meeting of the group of Adelie penguins. these shorter penguins, who refer to themselves as “The Amigos,” are meant to represent Mumble’s breaking free of his oppressive uprbingings and exploring other cultures . The Amigos immediately welcome Mumble into their group and celebrate his dancing, and bring him back to their colony where pebbles are used in place of singing to attract mates and show status. upon Mumble’s asking, The Amigos explain that they’ve never tried to give a pebble to a female penguin or build their own nests, and while they are shown to make some flirtatious gestures towards a group of females, it is in a joking manner and they move on quickly. this, along with their lack of discrepancy when it comes to physical contact (as is seen in the scene where Lovelace tells all of the penguins to hug and they are the only ones to do it), would imply that they are actually all in an open polyamourous relationship and have accepted Mumble in his journey of self exploration and actualization. However, he still has very real feelings for Gloria, which leads on the the conclusion that Mumble is bisexual.

having made this discovery about himself with the help of The Amigos, Mumble returns briefly to the colony and reunites with Gloria. he still feels the need to put on the impression of fitting in with everybody else in order to win her heart, however his scheme of lip synching is quickly found out and Gloria is disappointed in him and begins to leave. however, Mumble reveals his true self to her, and is able to achieve harmony with his dancing and her singing(i must comment that during this scene where Mumble and Gloria were dancing together and she was singing he SLAPPED HER ASS with his penguin hands.) their compatibility encourages those around them to embrace the dancing as well, spurring an episode of self exploration and deviating from tradition for his peers. however this is quickly put to rest when the elder penguin hears of it, and he berates Gloria and the rest for succumbing to temptation. Mumble’s parents try to defend him but ultimately he is banished after trying to convince the colony that the aliens he was told about by a predatory bird are the reason that the fish is disappearing, not his dancing as the elder penguin implies. he vows to find proof and leaves with The Amigos, once again shunned by his home for his differences.

when Gloria is revealed to have  been following Mumble, at first he is overjoyed, but quickly realizes how dangerous the journey will be for her. he tries to get her to go away by mocking her singing, and she retorts by mocking his singing and how he thinks he’s special just because he can’t sing. this scene can be understood as Mumble trying to abandon his colony, and in turn his heterosexuality, in order to protect Gloria from a life of being shunned if she chooses him, as well as his own fears that he won’t be able to protect her on his journey. he still has something he needs to discover for himself, which brings us to our next major character.

now for Lovelace. while it seems that he has everything he could ever want when we first meet him - eager mates, the adoration of the colony, anything he wants - he holds anxieties deep within him and perhaps a sense of imposter syndrome, represented by the plastic around his neck. he gives generally negative answers to questions that are asked of him, such as an unnamed penguins mate being happier without him, or another never hoping to achieve his level of success, but these are more likely him vocalizing his own self doubts. at first he tries to ignore these feelings and acts boisterously to try and convince everyone around him and also himself that the “voices” that give him answers to the colony’s questions are legitimate, but they start to choke him, quite literally in the sense of the plastic around his neck. it is only when he separates himself from this pedestal he has been placed on and joins Mumble and The Amigos is he freed from this burden, the situation coming to a climax in the scene with the killer whales. There are 2, one representing his overcompensation and vanity and the other representing his crippling self doubt, and after a tense scene where the whales push him and Mumble around and nearly devour them, he plastic comes free from his neck and they escape the water. free from his own expectations and self doubts, Lovelace confidently commands the killer whales to leave his presence, and soon after finds new purpose in vowing to tell Mumble’s story of bravery and compassion.

the part where Mumble is put in a zoo can be summed up as he lost himself and missed his family, and became isolated and depressed. the little girl tapping on the glass is representative of his inner child getting him back in touch with his passions, and the antenna is indicative of his new, clearer mindset and his goal of changing the mind of his colony once and for all.

and here is the climax of the movie, when Mumble returns to his colony once and for all. with his journey of sexual and spiritual exploration complete thanks to Lovelace and The Amigos, he is a confident and self assured penguin who is dead set on changing the old ways. the first person he sees upon his arrival is Gloria, who he mocked and turned his back on at their last meeting. she is the first of the past regrets and inner demons that he has to come to terms with. he begins dancing and instructing others how to do the same, claiming that it will save them and send a message to the aliens that are stealing their fish. the elder penguin berates those who join in the dancing, and the rest of the elders begin vocalizing in a way that is very similar to a church choir, beginning the butting of heads between tradition and modernity. more penguins quickly join in, and the commotion brings forth The Amigos his mother, who now fully accepts him and wants him to stay because of how much she missed him. when Mumble asked about his father, his mother directs him to a solitary ice cave. there his father is consumed by depression over abandoning his own son, the second demon Mumble must conquer. his father tells him that he lost his heart song in his sadness, and Mumble is able to help him by getting him to see his perspective as someone who never had a “song” to begin with. father and son dance together and finally reach an understanding, going out to join the rest of the penguins dancing.

at this point the “aliens” arrive in a helicopter, and all of the penguins are given pause. the elder penguin spent so long telling the colony that they werent real, and now they were standing right in front of them. Mumble’s father encourages his son to start dancing, finally showing his full support and trust. Mumble begins to move and the rest of the colony follows suit, with even the elder penguin being converted after having his beliefs disproven before his very eyes. the humans record the penguins dancing and their message is received around the world, with arctic fishing being reeled back and the fish shortage ending. 

the last scene shows everyone dancing in harmony together, a fully fluid community broken free of the oppressive traditions. the elder penguin is seen dancing with Lovelace, which could imply his own exploration of sexuality and the two being in a relationship. everyone is in harmony.

in conclusion: Mumble is a queer coded, neurodivergent revolutionary who broke free of the oppressive bonds of tradition and freed his entire colony from its grasp with the help of a group of polyamorous poc (penguins of color) and a body positive spiritualist.

[writingpitcheswearingpearls]

Nothing Says Soulmates More Than Sharing a Soul: Chapter 13

Ao3 Link

Once out of Danny’s body, Phantom found himself hyperventilating and his vision fading to black around the edges. This was it; the moment of truth. He was about to find out what Danny thought of him now that he’d seen his true colours.

“W-What just happened?” The sound of Tuckers voice got Phantom to turn and face him, which the ghost immediately regretted. Standing in front of Phantom with clenched fists and a heaving chest was Danny. There was so much pain and anger in his eyes, Phantom couldn’t help but immediately burst into tears.

“Danny, I –”

“Get out! I don’t want to see you!” Danny cut in with a furious growl. Phantom’s eyes widened with fear. He tried to say something, anything, but all he could let out was a pathetic whimper before turning and flying away as fast as he could.

As he frantically flew over the town, he felt pure dread fill his entire being. His absolute worst fear had been founded. Danny hated him the second he knew the truth, and now he’s lost the most important person in his life. Not only that, but he’s lost everyone else that’s important to him too. After all, it wouldn’t make sense for anyone to pick him over Danny. They’d only ever been there for him because they were under the impression that he was the friend they knew and loved, not some stranger who didn’t even have a clue who he really was.

Not being able to think clearly, Phantom flew straight back to Danny’s room and collapsed onto Danny’s bed, curling in on himself as he sobbed into the pillow that so painfully smelled of Danny. He knew he shouldn’t be there, but he had no idea where he was meant to go and it was the only place he felt safe. He figured as long as he left before Danny got back, there wouldn’t be any trouble.

“Danny? Are you back?”

At the sound of Jazz’s voice, Phantom choked on a sob. He somehow needed her and couldn’t handle the idea of talking to her. Immediately, Jazz burst into the room and rushed to him, apparently hearing him through the wall. She sat next to him and began giving frantic, yet still soothing strokes up and down his back.

“Danny! Are you hurt? What happened?” She asked in a panicked tone. At the sound of the name she called him by, he let out a small moan of distress and curled further into himself.

We haven’t told her yet…She still thinks I’m him.

“I- I’m not…” He tried to say through his sobbing, but the pain and fear attached to what he was trying to say made it all that much harder to let out.

“It’s okay. You can tell me anything, little brother.” She encouraged in a gentle voice full of protective feelings and love that he didn’t deserve. Finally, he found the strength to push himself up and back away from her touch.

“That’s just it! I’m not your little brother!” He exclaimed, bringing his arms close to his body and digging his nails into his biceps. It was all he could do to stop the frost that was building around him from spreading any further and hurting Jazz. He wanted to look up to see her reaction, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

“Don’t say that –”

“But it’s true! I was never actually Danny! I’m just some pathetic ghost that latched itself onto him, leeching off his memories and his friendships! Now you know the truth, you’ll want me gone too!” He cried out, lifting his hands to his face to clench his hairline.

“Phantom…” She said softly, before her hands wrapped around his to pull them away from his face.

“Please look at me. I… I already knew that you weren’t Danny.” That made him look at her.

“What? But then why did you call me that earlier?” He questioned with eyes wide with shock.

“It was a reflex, sorry. Having thought of you as Danny for four years, it will be hard to get used to the truth, even though I’ve had a couple of days to wrap my head around it. The point is that I know you’re not Danny, but I also know that nothing else you said was true.” She explained with a serious, yet empathetic expression. He opened his mouth to protest but was cut off when she raised her hand to gesture that she wasn’t done.

“You talk about yourself like some sort of malicious parasite, but that isn’t true at all. You’re a hero and the last thing I’d call you was pathetic!” She reassured. Phantom shook his head and looked away.

“You can’t know that. I have no idea what type of person I was before Danny, so who’s to say that fusing with him wasn’t intentional?” Phantom argued. The room was silent, and Phantom was afraid that what he’d said had convinced her.

“When that alternate future version of you fused with Vlad’s ghost, did he immediately go evil?” She asked.

Fuck, she thinks I’m going to go evil!

“I- I think so. I’m not sure.” He answered, shaking from how fast his core was pulsing with panic. He risked a look at her, only to become shocked to find her smiling.

“Great. So it stands to reason that when somebody fuses with an evil ghost, they are influenced to take on those evil traits. When Danny fused with you, he didn’t become evil, he became a hero. What do you think that says about who you were?” She explained with a confident tone that she reserved for when she was pretty sure she just won an argument. To Phantom’s confusion, it may have been warranted. He couldn’t find a way to argue with what she said. The calm only lasted a moment before he remembered the last time he spoke to Danny.

“Well, just because I didn’t go in a shit person, doesn’t mean I’m not a shit person now. You don’t know what I’ve done since separating from Danny.” He redirected. Her brow quirked in confusion.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“The second Danny found out, he never wanted to see me again.” Jazz blanched at his statement, visibly taken aback by it.

“What? That can’t be right. He wouldn’t –”

“But he did! He was everything to me and now that he hates me I’ve got nothing!” Phantom cried out, frost flashing out of him and spreading around the room, causing Jazz to flinch and jump up from the bed in shock.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!” He apologised quickly, nearly reaching for her before thinking better of it. Jazz looked around the room at the ice damage, breath slowing down.

“It’s okay Phantom, you just surprised me. I’m not hurt. Has this been happening a lot?” She eventually said. Phantom groaned as he dragged his hands down his face.

“Yes. I can’t control my powers properly, especially my ice core. Danny has been helping me, but… without him I don’t think I’ll be safe around people anymore.” He admitted. The only place safe for him would probably be the Far Frozen. Frostbyte would surely take him in, even if he’s only half of “The Great One”. Jazz sighed, before sitting on the bed again.

“Phantom, I’m one hundred percent certain that if you just talk it out with Danny, you’ll find that he doesn’t hate you. That being said… spending some time away from him might be a good thing.” Phantom’s eyes snapped back to her, scared by what she’d said.

Is she telling me to leave?

Something about his expression must have told Jazz to realise what he was thinking, as her eyes widened and she suddenly raised her hands into a gesture that read “I mean no harm”.

“I’m not telling you to leave! I’m just saying that if you do leave, it may be good for you. It’s clear that you’re extremely dependant on Danny, so spending time away from him could help you develop as an individual and self-regulate.” She clarified. Phantom felt his shoulders drop, not realising that he had hunched them in the first place as he thought about what she said. Those sounded like things he wanted, but the idea of being separated from Danny for a long time gave him an uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

“In any case, you should wait until you talk to Danny before deciding anything. If you’re wrong about how he feels it will feel awful to leave with such a painful misunderstanding lingering between you. If you’re right, you’ll regret leaving without a proper chance to apologise and reconcile.” Jazz added on, bringing his attention back to her. The smile she gave him was warm and understanding, which he found deeply relieving.

“Thanks Jazz. For the advice… and for still caring about me even though I’m not your brother.” Phantom thanked sincerely, hoping his tone conveyed how deeply he meant those words. For a moment, Jazz’s eyes watered, before she suddenly lunged at him and pulled him into a hug.

“Listen closely Phantom, because if you don’t, I’m going to have to repeat it until it gets into that ectoplasmic skull of yours. Just because you aren’t Danny does not mean you aren’t my brother! You have been a part of my family for the past four years and that doesn’t end just because we aren’t blood related, you hear?!” She declared, voice shaking with emotion. Phantom couldn’t help but cry as he wrapped his arms around her back and clung desperately to his big sister.

~

“Dude, are you okay?” Tucker’s words cut through the tense silence. Danny turned to him and took in the concerned expressions of his two best friends. He groaned as he turned back away, too emotional to make eye contact with either of them.

“Not really.” He admitted lowly. So many emotions were bubbling inside him at that moment. Anger, betrayal, embarrassment, but mostly confusion. He wasn’t even sure confusion was an emotion, but he sure was feeling it.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Sam asked cautiously.

“Yeah, what the hell happened back there?” Tucker chimed in, voice raising in confusion. Normally, he would have loved to fill his friends in on what happened, but to do that he would have had to have processed what happened, and he did not want to do that any time soon.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Danny growled bluntly, hoping his anger would mask his fear.

“But –”

“Drop it, Tucker. He’ll talk about it when he’s ready.” Sam cut in. She offered Danny a supportive smile, which he tried to reflect back weakly.

“Fine, topic dropped. What do we want to do now, if we’re avoiding dealing with our problems?” Tucker relented. Danny was almost stunned for a moment. If he had told his fourteen-year-old self that Sam would be the one enabling him not to process his feelings and Tucker would be the vaguely more responsible one, he would have gotten a laugh and a “good one, Amorpho” from him, before immediately getting attacked. The thought made him chuckle lowly, before thinking of how to answer his friend’s question.

With everything he was feeling, he wanted nothing more but to distract himself from what had just transpired between him and Phantom. He was even willing to do something he had been avoiding doing ever since he became a hero.

“Is it too soon to go to Mikey’s party? I really just need to get drunk right now.” Danny asked, finally turning to face his friends. Tucker snorted out a short laugh.

“It won’t start for another couple of hours, and it won’t be cool to show up for another few.” He answered matter-o-factly. Danny groaned. He should have realised. Years of not being able to go to parties really made him a complete novice at them. Seeing his disappointment, Sam stepped closer to Danny with an encouraging smile.

“If you wanted something to do while we wait for the party, we could have drinks at my house and play video games.” She suggested.

“Pre-drinking before a house party? Wow, we are finally acting like real teenagers!” Tucker cheered enthusiastically. Danny put on a grin, hoping it conveyed his gratefulness to both his friends, while concealing the feelings he desperately wanted to ignore.

After sneaking into Sam’s parents’ liquor cabinet and several rounds of Ultimate Mecha Strike III that got progressively worse the more the trio drank, Tucker finally announced that it was fashionably late enough to show up at the party.

Sneaking more booze into their bags, the three of them took off on foot towards Mikey’s house, which was luckily only a short distance from Sam’s estate. Being in the same part of the neighbourhood, Danny really shouldn’t have been surprised by how nice Mikey’s house was. Not as intense as Sam’s “old money” mansion, but still quite fancy.

“Wow, drunk Danny sure is interested in architecture.” Tucker commented teasingly.

“Oh shit, was I talking out loud?” Danny asked, immediately being answered by two grinning nods.

Before they could knock on the front door, it swung open to reveal a red-faced Mikey with a wide, excited smile.

“Danny! You came!” He exclaimed far louder than necessary. Tucker cleared his throat.

“We’re here too, y’know.” He grumbled, making Danny and Sam giggle. Mikey took a big step back and gestured for them to enter.

“Come on in! If you brought drinks, you’re best to put them in the fridge now if they need it. We’re running out of room fast!” He advised, before wandering off at the sound of someone shouting his name from the other room.

Standing in the doorway, Danny felt his heart racing. Here he was, at a real-life high school party that he was invited to. He was drunk and without a care in the world, with no responsibilities or ghosts to worry about –

Suddenly, the thought of ghost brought a vision of beautiful green eyes to his mind. He shook the thought out of his head, before pacing further into the house to find something to distract him.

“Hey! It’s Fenton!” Turning to face the sound of the voice, he saw Kwan and a group of footballers gathering around a ping pong table. The rosy tint in Kwan’s cheeks and the delighted smile brought a warm feeling in Danny’s stomach. Before the jock could even gesture for him to come over, Danny found himself gravitating in his direction.

“You up for some beer pong? You can be on my team!” Kwan offered. Danny chuckled.

“Sure, but I’m warning you that I am already pretty drunk, so my aim is probably shit.” He warned, winning a light laugh from the group of jocks.

“All good, bro! That just means an even playing field!” A footballer he couldn’t remember the name of called out, words slurring together slightly.

Danny turned to ask Sam and Tucker if they wanted to play, to find that they had only just caught up to him.

“Do you guys want to play?” He asked. Sam rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, no thank you. I hate beer, and they probably don’t have a vegan friendly one, either.” She replied. Danny did a double take.

“Wait, beer can be not vegan? How?” He asked, very confused. Before she could answer, Danny felt himself being pushed toward the ping pong table by Tucker.

“Come on dude. You know she won’t stop once she gets started.” With a shrug, Danny returned his focus to the group of footballers.

“Alright, let’s do this! Now… how do you play?”

Danny wasn’t sure how, but he managed to be insanely good at beer pong, quickly annihilating Tucker and the other team and winning an uproar in cheers from his own team.

Learning how to aim while losing blood must have been good training for this very moment.

Busy chuckling at his own thoughts, Danny was caught off guard when he was suddenly swept into a bear hug by Kwan.

“That was legendary, bro! Seriously, is there nothing I can say to convince you to join the football team?” The boy gushed, ruffling a hand through Danny’s hair and messing it up even further.

“Yeah, especially considering sign ups are well and truly over and this is our final year?” Danny replied, not sure whether to return the hug or not. The contact certainly felt nice, but there was something this was just… off about it. Maybe it was the fact that Kwan seemed to be running hot too, so there was no cooling relief like when he was holding Phanto –

No. He wasn’t letting himself think about him. It hurt too much.

“Oh, right. My bad.” Kwan laughed, pulling away from Danny. He had to admit that the jock was quite handsome, and the glistening of his sweat was weirdly mesmerising.

“Wow, dude. You sure are hot.”

“WHAT?” Danny exclaimed, not sure if his line of thinking had made him hallucinate hearing that or if it had actually happened. Kwan laughed again.

“I meant your temperature, bro. Are you coming down with something?” At that question, Tucker jumped into the conversation, wrapping an arm around his best friend.

“Nah, he’s fine. He’s just running warm because of his growth spurt, that’s all.” Tucker explained, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“That checks out. You did seem to fit four years of growing into like, three days. Why don’t you have one of my rum and cokes to cool down? They’re in the fridge door!” Kwan offered, before waving and wondering back to the footballers.

“Danny, are you alright? You really are burning up…” Tucker commented, voice laced with concerned. Danny sighed before slinking out from under Tucker’s arm and stomping towards the kitchen.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about how I’m feeling, I just want to drink until I can’t feel my fingers, okay?” If he couldn’t feel his fingers, maybe he wouldn’t remember how Phantom felt underneath them. Maybe he wouldn’t want to run them through his ghostly hair and relish in how soft it was.

“Whoa, take it easy, okay buddy? I don’t want you getting hurt.” Tucker advised; voice laced with concern. While Danny appreciated that Tucker cared, he was in no mood to be lectured, so he ignored the warning and continued his path towards the fridge and grabbed one of Kwan’s cans. When he was halfway through downing it, revelling in the cooling sensation, he heard a sigh come from his friend.

“I’m going to go find Sam. I think I need her help with this.” He admitted reluctantly. Danny huffed with indignation.

“Fine, go get her. Neither of you will be able to stop me from having fun tonight.” He scoffed. Hearing a surprising chuckle from a new voice, Danny pivoted suddenly toward the source of the sound to see Spike leaning in the doorway.

“Damn, Danny. I am loving your new look on you. Have you ever thought about eye liner? I think it would look awesome on you.” Spike commented, eyes tracing up and down Danny. For a moment, the blue-eyed boy shivered under the gaze, before offering a non-committal shrug.

“Come with me, I’m going to put some on you now.” With that, the punk boy had grabbed Danny’s free arm and tugged him towards what looked like an entertainment room, before pushing Danny onto a fairly large couch and stepping out of view. Quickly he returned with a bag and was pulling out an eyeliner pencil. Any concerns about getting pink eye from sharing the pencil immediately evaporated the second Spike perched himself on Danny’s lap. The pressure gave him an instant flashback to the times Phantom was in his lap.

“Sorry, this is just the easiest way to do this.” Spike apologised, a blush rising in his cheeks.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.”  Danny was pleased with the laugh that quip won from the punk boy. Quickly, Spike stilled again and continued drawing along Danny’s lash line.

“With lines like that, it’s no wonder Punny Phantom chose you.” Danny couldn’t help but stiffen at the mention of Phantom. Spike leaned back to look at his work, only to frown as he noticed something.

“Uh oh, did something happen between the two of you?” At the punk’s concerned question, Danny groaned and realised that he must have been grimacing.

“Sort of? I don’t want to talk about it.” He mumbled, looking down and away from the boy in his lap. Suddenly, a hand pressed lightly into his cheek and turned his face back up to Spike.

“Hey…if you ever want to talk, or not talk… I’m here.” The punk boy offered, eyes lilting on the words “not talk”.

As Spike leaned closer in towards Danny’s face, it occurred to Danny that the guy might be into him. He was going slow, seeming to give Danny an opportunity to stop him. Feeling his heart rate increase, he wasn’t sure if he wanted him to stop or not. The guy was pretty cute and he seemed like a decent enough person having calmed down a lot from their freshman year, but there was something missing.

Before Danny had to make a decision, the door to the room slammed open, causing both boys to jolt in shock. Peering around Spike, Danny saw a very drunk Sam standing in the threshold, hand still on the door with an angry expression on her face.

“I have to go.” Spike said abruptly, scrambling off of Danny’s lap and pushing past Sam, revealing that she had Tucker and Starr behind her.

“What were you doing in here?” Sam asked with a scowl. Danny gulped nervously, not sure what he did wrong.

“Spike was putting eye liner on me. Do you like it?” He replied, hoping his nervous smile would be enough to smooth out her agitated mood. Sam narrowed her eyes, as she scrutinised his appearance, before a strong blush spread across her cheeks.

“Y-Yes.” She mumbled. For a few moments an awkward silence hung in the air, as Danny waited for anyone to say anything. Eventually, Starr groaned before pushing Sam toward Danny.

“For crying out loud, I thought you were going to confess, not stare awkwardly at him.” The blonde complained. Sam hissed lowly, her blush getting ten times worse as she staggered toward him. Danny was thrown off by what Starr had said.

“Confess? Do you mean like, to murder, or…?” He asked cautiously, trailing off when Sam stopped right in front of him. Either way, he was nervous for whatever she was going to say. She opened and shut her mouth a few times, before scrunching her face up and turning back towards Starr and Tucker.

“I can’t do this! It’s too hard!” She complained, earning an eye roll from them both. Seeing how distressed she was, Danny reached forward and took Sam’s hand gently, the touch getting her to whip back around to face him.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Sam. You’re one of my best friends; you can tell me anything and I’ll still want to be your friend.” He tried to reassure. Unfortunately it seemed to fail, as she let out a frustrated groan.

“That’s the problem! I’ve always just been a friend, but I don’t want to be!” She exclaimed almost angrily. Danny couldn’t helped but flinch, releasing her hand as he leaned away from her.

“Y-You don’t want to be friends with me anymore?” He asked, feeling tears begin to well in his eyes. The groan from every person in the room was Danny’s only warning, before Sam suddenly dropped herself onto his lap and pull herself in to his body until their lips met in an intense connection. It was at this point it clicked for Danny that Sam had romantic feelings for him.

As she gripped tightly into his shoulders with one hand and raked through his hair with the other, he took the moment to contemplate how the situation made him feel. He knew he should feel amazing; Sam was beautiful and someone he was very close with, not to mention the crush he’d had on her for the past four years. Theoretically, this was everything he should want and he should be satisfied.

The only problem? He couldn’t feel any of that. He tried kissing her back. He tried smoothing his hands over her waist. He even tried grinding into her. Nothing. Frustrated, he pulled away from her and groaned as he slapped himself in the face and leaned back into the couch.

“Ugh! What is wrong with me? Why can’t I just do this?” He mumbled, tears welling in his eyes. Why couldn’t his body react like it had with Phantom? Or even how he’d felt a minute ago with Spike in this same position. A scoff brought his attention back to the girl in front of him.

“I can’t be that bad at kissing.” Sam grumbled, crossing her arms defensively.

“Sam, I don’t think you did anything wrong. He’s just gay.” Starr interjected before Danny could open his mouth.

“What? No, I’m bi. I’ve had feelings for girls before, I swear! I even had a crush on Sam for like, four years! I don’t know why I’m ruining this!” Danny cried out. The irritated look in Sam’s eyes melted into one of sympathy as she slid off of Danny’s lap to sit next to him.

“It’s okay Danny. Sexual orientation can change, and crushes fade. I’m just sad I missed my chance.” She reassured, taking his hand comfortingly.

“But how did it change so fast? I swear a week ago Tucker caught me with a boner when you were picking up litter in a mini skirt.” Danny argued, before breaking eye contact with Sam to look at Tucker, pleading with his face for his friend to back him up. Seeing the thoughtful expression on his face made Danny’s stomach sink.

“Danny… I think those might have been Phantom’s feelings.” At the sound of Tucker mentioning the name, it all made sense. He’d always assumed he only started getting interested in girls after the accident because he’d only just reached that part of puberty, but what if it was because Phantom was the one who was attracted to girls? It would certainly explain why he hadn’t felt anything for any girls since they split. A weight lifted off of Danny, from both understanding himself better, and for the knowledge that Phantom was just as much in control when they were fused as he was. He let out a relieved laugh.

“So I wasn’t controlling him this whole time! He still had free will!” He exclaimed happily. He couldn’t wait to tell the ghost the good news.

“Uh… now that we can mention him without you losing it, can you please explain what the fuck happened back at the library?” Tucker enquired, making his way deeper into the room and sitting on a recliner. Danny found himself off guard, suddenly remembering that he was mad at Phantom.

“Ugh, don’t even get me started! He full on let me believe I was this perverted asshole that didn’t deserve a chance with him, but no! Turns out he was only acting weird because he did have feelings for me and was too much of a coward to tell me the truth! If he had just told me he was awake when I kissed him in my sleep then I wouldn’t have spent this entire time agonising over what a bad person I was!” Danny complained. As he spoke, it became very clear to him that the entire time he’d spent with Phantom as separate people, he’d been repressing his own feelings for the ghost to the point of almost being unaware of them. Seeing gears turn in Sam’s mind, he waited for her to speak.

“So, the problem was that he didn’t make it clear how he felt, which made you feel like he couldn’t love you?” Sam questioned, to which Danny nodded emphatically in response.

“Right… and how is that any different to what you are doing now?” She continued, stopping Danny dead in his tracks.

“W-Wait, what?”

“Come on dude, you had a look inside his mind and the first thing you did was tell him to fuck off, essentially. As if that didn’t tell him you aren’t interested. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought you never wanted to see him again at all!” Tucker explained, rolling his eyes. Danny felt his own eyes widen with realisation and despair.

“Shit! I only meant I need space to cool down while I was mad at him! He probably thinks that I hate him! What if he runs away to the Ghost Zone? I have to go home and tell him the truth!” Danny exclaimed in a panic, before jolting to his feet and dashed out of the room.

“What the fuck was that all about?” was the last thing he heard from the room before he darted his way through the house and back onto the street.

Thanks to his increased speed and endurance, the sprint home was in record time, and luckily he had managed to sober up in that time. He wanted to talk to Phantom with as clear a mind as he could, so that he could tell Phantom how he felt without there being any more confusion between them. As silently as he could, he opened the front door. Luckily, he could hear his parents tinkering away frantically in the lab, so he didn’t have to worry about them slowing him down. Unable to slow his heart rate down as he climbed up the stairs, he focused on slowing his breathing and on what he was going to say.

“Don’t worry Phantom! I don’t think you’re a pervert! I’d probably watch you shower, if given the opportunity.” No, no, no… that doesn’t sound right. Just keep it simple and say you don’t hate him!

Figuring that was a good place to start, he took one last deep breath before opening the door to his bedroom.

To find it empty.

Disappointed, Danny walked into the room and looked around. The only sign that anyone had been in here since they’d left earlier today was that the computer was now on. He paced over to the screen to see a folder open with a single video file in it labelled “Goodbye Danny”. Nervously, he tapped on the file and the video began playing. On screen, Phantom was stepping away from the screen and steadying his breath before looking straight into the camera. It broke Danny's heart to be able to tell that he'd been crying.

“Hey Danny. By the time you’ll be watching this, I’ll have already gone into the Ghost Zone. I know Jazz said I should wait to talk to you before I go, but I think seeing you would hurt too much. When you told me to leave, I didn’t know who I would be without you. I… I need to be someone on my own, but I can’t do that if I stay with you. When I feel like I’m ready, I’ll come back to see you. But I’m not sure how long that will take, or if I’ll still feel the same way about you. I just want you to know that I’m sorry for what I did, and I’m sorry I let you down. I hope you find someone who deserves you. Goodbye Danny.”

With that, the video ended on Phantom leaning forward to stop recording, and Danny found himself as frozen as the frame on screen.

He was too late; Phantom had left him.

[sknnymnne]

drowning (spencer reid x reader) part 1

summary: y/n mourns the loss of her best friend, spencer reid, reminiscing about how she always wished that they were something more. however, a case in las vegas reveals some disturbing information, causing y/n to rethink some things.

a/n: this is my first fic ever! i have some past writing experience, so hopefully this isn’t horrible. please give me constructive criticism, and let me know how i can improve :). i hope you enjoy! you can read part two here. (p.s., let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!)

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spencer’s death left a gaping hole in everyone’s heart. especially mine.

i was definitely a lot quieter. this grim attitude seemed to cloud over me, never fading. of course, i was constantly on the brink of tears, inches away from exploding from the pain that spencer’s passing caused. weeks after his funeral, my eyes remained glassy.

i wore spencer’s scarf every day, without fail. it didn’t matter if the purple fabric clashed with my outfit, or if it were 80 degrees outside. it was his favorite, and it had become mine too.

everyone had noticed my change in behavior. the glimmer in my eyes wasn’t there anymore, the glimmer of hope, life. i felt like an empty husk, walking around preforming my daily tasks on autopilot, just waiting for my best friend to knock on the apartment door.

spencer and i had clicked the day they met. four years, seven weeks, and two days ago. from the day we met, i had always wanted to be more than friends. however, spencer and his friendship was too valuable a thing to risk. so, i buried my feelings deep inside. stayed a respectable distance away from him on the couch. didn’t run my hands through his curls, didn’t wipe away his tears. my god, did i long for more. longed to say the words left unsaid, the ones spencer would never hear leave my lips.

“i love you.”

god, i wanted to love him in many ways, of course. i wanted to watch doctor who with him, laugh about inside jokes, learn new things together. pepper his face with kisses, hug him after a long case, lean my head on his shoulder on our way home.

at this point, none of these would exist in the real world. in the dream world, sure, but spencer would never come back. he would never walk through the elevator doors with a cup of coffee. he would never again come over to watch obscure german films. we would never split the last chocolate sprinkled donut. gone were the days of greeting him every morning, talking about each other’s weekends. it was all gone too soon. so fast.

i was drowning, and i was going down fast. grief was gripping me by the hips and pulling me into a state of ever growing darkness. there was nothing to grab onto. i didn’t know if i would ever be able to crawl back out.

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the first day back after his death was grim. as we reviewed the case file, a part of us waited for spencer’s excited voice to interject with a fact or statistic about serial killers. however, the room was filled with a mournful silence, accompanied by everyone’s eyes gravitating towards spencer’s empty chair.

“wheels up in 30.” hotch managed to whisper.

as we somberly packed their items, everyone seemed to be looking at spencer’s desk, his TARDIS mug still sitting in the corner. it was just the way he had left it. of course, i put on his scarf before heading over to the jet.

the case went by in a blur. nothing felt real anymore. it still didn’t make sense that spencer was gone. forever. they caught the unsub, sure, but that wasn’t nearly enough for me. all i could think about was spencer, how much i missed him, and how he died.

...............................................................................

spencer passed away on a sunday. ironically, the day of rest wasn’t relaxing in the slightest. it started when he began receiving fan mail from a “kathryn snow” in connecticut. she was just a curious college student full of questions, and spencer was more than happy to answer all of them. it was adorable seeing him so excited about helping someone.

eventually, it turned out that “kathryn snow” was actually “bryan evans,” and that bryan had an extreme obsession with spencer.

spencer’s life truly ended when he was kidnapped by bryan. bryan had tortured him, and just before we arrived, had tried to kill himself and spencer, ultimately failing at both. however, the damage to spencer was done. seeing him beaten and bruised like that it something i’ll never forget.

bryan was arrested, but escaped when he was being transferred to prison. every day, it killed me that spencer’s murderer was still out there.

spencer died on the way to the hospital.

we never saw his body.

...............................................................................

present day.

...............................................................................

“hey, y/n,” jj gave me a slight smile as she entered the elevator.

“hi,” i murmured.

“are you okay?” she rested a loving hand on my shoulder, her eyebrows knitted in concern.

“i’m fine,” i replied. “seriously”

“y/n, you know that’s not true.” she replied. “come on, tell me what’s wrong. please?”

jj always meant well, but i couldn’t bring myself to tell her about what had been going on. the nightmares had returned. of course i knew it was ridiculous to cope through them alone, and that they could compromise my skills at the BAU, but i just couldn’t talk about it. not now, at least. i was still drowning, and i was getting too deep.

“i’ll tell you about it later,” i managed to give her a small smile. “i just don’t want to talk about it at work.”

“okay.” she returned my smile, but i could still see the motherly concern in her eyes. “just tell me when you’re ready and i’ll be here.”

the elevator dinged as we reached the floor that the BAU was on, and we began to walk through the glass doors together. however, i stopped dead in my tracks when i saw spencer’s desk and felt my heart drop.

“what is it?” jj asked.

“his mug..” i mumbled. “it’s gone.”

ever since the day spencer died, i had made sure that nobody touched that mug. it had stayed in the same place on his desk for the past three weeks, collecting dust. it was somewhat comforting, knowing that would always be the same.

however, that comfort’s disappeared.

“i’m sure someone just moved it to the kitchen,” she tried to reassure me. “we’ll get it back, don’t worry.”

i knew that it was irrational to expect that no one would move the mug someday. an intern, and unsuspecting colleague. it was also irrational to think that spencer’s desk would always be spencer’s desk. someone else would sit there soon, with their own coffee cup. there was nothing i could do about it.

hotch breezed past jj and i.

“we’ve got a case.”

as we always did, we all sat at the round table, leaving spencer’s seat empty. it was a constant reminder of how easy it was to lose each other.

“four men in las vegas have been brutally tortured and murdered.” garcia winced as she showed the crime scene photos. “physically, they all appeared similar. it seems like our unsub has a pretty specific type.” she attempted to joke.

however, i couldn’t help but notice how familiar the torture was on each of the victims. the scratches, the cuts, the-

spencer.

“it’s bryan.” i blurted.

“what?” hotch furrowed his eyebrows

“look, the wounds are almost identical to spencer’s.” the words seemed to spill out of me. “we know that evans is meticulous, and the victims could be surrogates for spence.”

emily and jj both looked at me with that unintentional condescending concern.

“if you’re right, y/n, we need to get there asap.” hotch replied. “wheels up in 20.”

...............................................................................

we arrived in las vegas, and confirmed that my suspicions were indeed correct. it was bryan.

“it doesn’t make sense that evans would start killing just after he escaped.” derek mused. “he’s smart. he would know that we would learn about it and find him.”

“maybe,” rossi said, ”that’s what he wants.”

“what if it’s a trap?” i asked. “it’s definitely possible that he’d want us now that he got spencer.” i choked on spencer’s name.

“or he has reid and he wants us to know.” hotch appeared in the doorway of the conference room.

“what?” my voice shook. no. no no no. spencer was dead. he couldn’t be alive. he died in the ambulance.

we never saw his body.

we never saw his body.

“the emts who took him to the hospital,” rossi was just as shocked as i was. “were they even certified? did we even check?”

“two unsubs,” derek “evans, and another one in there with reid.”

“is he even dead?”

those last four words seemed to echo endlessly through my body. had this bastard had my best friend for three weeks, and i didn’t even know? had all my mourning been for nothing? was spencer even alive, or was i just getting my hopes up?

is he even dead?

god, i hope not.

[buckysbitch107]

Can you write a fic where Bucky sabe reader from her toxic friends?? Can you make them really mean and make Bucky really sassy? Thanks 😊 btw I love your writing so far! You’re really good 😝

A Little Help | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You don’t even know why you still hang out with them. They’re rude, ignorant, and just overall toxic. So when everything goes wrong over dinner, you simply start dialing numbers to see who would pick up and be able to drive you home, knowing that the buses don’t run this late. What you didn’t expect was for your crush, Bucky Barnes, to be the first one to pick up. What you didn’t expect even more, was his reaction once he got there.

Warnings: Swearing, Crying, S A S S

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: Hope this meets your standards! I tried my best with this one and i hope you enjoy it! Just a reminder that I will always be accepting requests! 

“Hey, guys! Sorry, I’m late! Got held up at the office.” You explain, sitting down at the table with your two other friends. Heather shoots you a small smile while Lauren looks you up and down with pursed lips.

“Hi Y/N!” Heather greets before looking back down at her menu. Lauren scoffs quietly and you shoot her a confused look.

“Something wrong?” You ask, reaching for your water and taking a sip of it.

“Did you have to wear that dress?” Lauren comments, her face riddled with disgust.

“Is something wrong with it?”

“It’s tight, short, and a little revealing. I just wouldn’t recommend wearing it with your body type.”

“Lauren-” 

“I know I’m not the only one thinking it!” Lauren admits, turning to Heather. “I mean, come on. Her thighs giggled when she sat down, her stomach pudges out of that dress, and no one wants to see those stretch marks, sweetie.” Heather sighs before turning to you.

“She’s not wrong, Y/N. You do look a little chubby in that dress. Plus you could’ve worn something nicer. Not that cheap crap. I mean come on, buy something of value for once.” She comments.

“Can we just order our food?” You whisper, looking down at your menu, trying to hold back the tears coming out of your eyes. The waiter comes over and takes your order, the people sitting beside you giving you sideways glares as they order their own food.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. You ordered enough food to choke a goat. Especially with your body type, you should really watch what you eat.” Your eyes burn as you look down at your food.

“I’ll be right back.” You whisper, standing up and walking to the bathroom. You dry your tears and fix your makeup before making your way back to the table, stopping when you hear two familiar voices talking.

“God, why did you even invite her?” Heather asks, not aware of your position in relation to the table.

“Because I feel bad for her. We’re the best chance she’s got at ever having friends. I still hate her though.” Lauren admits, making you stop in your tracks and turn back to run into the bathroom. You pull out your phone and start dialing numbers, hoping someone will answer. Mom? No answer. Kelly, your big sister? No answer. You run through the rest of your contacts and realize the only people you haven’t called are some of the Avengers. Coulson? Nah, he’s most likely asleep. Cap? Funny voicemail, no answer. Your finger lingers over the last name, and you click it before placing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Bucky answers after a few rings.

“Buck-” You whisper, your voice catching due to tears, a crack replacing what would have been more words.

“What’s wrong doll? You sound upset.” He asks, sounding more alert and concerned.

“Can you just pick me up? I’m at the restaurant on 8th and Madison.”

“Sure, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” You walk back to the table after drying your tears once again and pick up your purse, quickly making up the excuse that your boss called you in. The two girls nod and continue their conversation, leaving you to walk out of the restaurant. As you stand out in the cold, tears start streaming down your cheeks.

~~~

The rumble of a motorcycle pulls you from your thoughts and you look up, instantly spying the old-fashioned Harley Davidson pulling up beside the curb. Bucky hops off his bike, placing the kickstand down before rushing over to you, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug that makes you sob a little harder. He pulls away and pushes the hair out of your face, his brows furrowing at your red-rimmed eyes.

“Oh doll, what happened?” Bucky whispers, causing you to let out a loud sob. You babble to him about the things your “friends” said about you, and his face grows angrier and angrier by the minute. 

“And I just wanna go home.” You finish, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your coat.

“They said what to you? That’s un-fucking-acceptable.” He mumbles, grabbing you by the hand and pulling you inside the restaurant. You try to object, but you end up just leading him to the toxic friends still eating their meals. “Are you two Heather and Lauren?” Your two “friends” turn their heads up to meet his eyes, and you can practically see their panties fall off.

“Yes, that’s us.” Heather adds, trying to act all sweet and innocent, but Bucky looks past that in less than a second. 

“So you’re the two assholes who made Y/N cry?” Their faces form into those of realization, and Heather tries to blabber out an excuse.

“Well-”

“Well, what? I don’t see why you judge her so much when you’re wearing the fakest damn pearls anyone has ever seen!” Bucky comments, pointing to Lauren’s necklace.

“And how would you know?” She retorts, obviously thinking she’s done something.

“The paint is chipping, bitch. Also,” He states, turning towards the other woman at the table. “I really hope you didn’t pay full price for that purse, cause the logo is upside down and one brush away from flaking off.”

“At least we can afford something of value at all! She couldn’t even buy anything from the stores we shop at if she tried!” Heather says.

“I’m sorry, have you seen her house? I’m sure yours can fit inside it 10 times. And why are you so focused on money?!” He stops, taking a breath before continuing. “I’m-i’m just guessing here but I’m really not, but you buy “expensive” things to compensate for your bitchy personalities.”

“As Heather said, she can’t afford anything we buy.”

“I’m guessing you can’t either because there is so much fake and ‘made in china’ here that I can barely breathe. And while we’re talking about fake, let’s have a word about those faces, boobs, and personalities!” Lauren scoffs and that’s when you try to intervene.

“James-”

“No! I’m serious! There’s more plastic in these two than there is in the entire fucking ocean!” The man grins sarcastically and sits at the table, crossing his left leg over his right and leaning back in the chair. “So do you want me to continue pointing out your flaws in front of all these people, or are you gonna apologize to my girl?”

“Um-” Bucky doesn’t even wait for the rest of that sentence as he grabs your wrist and starts walking away.

“What about the bill?” Lauren whispers.

“I-i can pay guys.” You whisper, causing Bucky to rear back as you start reaching into your purse.

“Nonono. Apparently, you have a shitty job, and they don’t.” He turns towards the women still sitting at the table. “I’m sure you two can manage without my girlfriend.” Bucky grabs your hand again and pulls you out of the restaurant, handing you a helmet before straddling his bike.

“Thank you.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his waist as you sit behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell them you work for S.H.I.E.L.D?” He asks, starting up his bike.

“They’d use me to get to you or Cap.”

“Ah.”

“You-you called me your girlfriend.” You mutter, hoping he heard you over the roar of the wind. He apparently did, as he nearly slams on the brakes and pulls off into a side street.

“I did?”

“Yeah,” You whisper, tightening your arms around him.“you did.”

“Oh, well are you okay with that?” You bury your head into his back, trying to hide a wide smile.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” He speaks, turning around to still be on the bike but face you. “because you didn’t have a choice. You’re mine.” You pull your head up and look at him with a bratty glare.

“Oh am I?” You retort, grinning at him. Bucky rolls his eyes before slipping his head behind your neck, nesting his fingers in the hair at the base of your scalp as he pulls you closer. He places his other hand on your chin and tilts you head up, pulling you into a kiss that leaves you seeing stars. He pulls away with a grin on his face, both of your noses nearly touching.

“Yeah, yeah you are.” He whispers, leaning in again.

“Okay”

Permanent Tags: @wintersoldierslut​ @breakmy-bedbarnes @stuckys-hot-dogs​ @andreasworlsboring101 @yaxamarvel @donutloverxo 

Just a reminder that all requests are open! My masterlist is in my bio, so you guys know who I specialize in, but really I do anyone y’all request. As I’ve mentioned, nothing is too fluffy, angsty, smutty, or gorey for me. I mainly write Marvel and its characters/actors. I can also write some characters from other things, you just have to ask! Also please let me know if you want to be a part of the Permanent Tags! But please, for now,

Call me Emily

[illfoandillfie]

would love to see another fluffy/smutty addition to the seaside rendevous verse with joe and reader, am quite fond of that series

It’s been so long since I revisited these two but I had a lot of fun with it! Big thanks to @johndeaconshands​ for the suggestion to take them back to where they first met. I didn’t do the whole revenge tease thing exactly and it might have ended up a little more angsty than originally intended but the idea of them going back to the hotel sparked some ideas! Mostly it’s fluffy and smutty and hopefully you guys like it!  Also it’s like 3k because I am terrible at keeping things short skfjskfjlskf

warnings: smut but it’s not particularly kinky. Mentions of choking but that’s about it.

Seaside Rendezvous Series

Blurb Advent: Day 19 

Things had felt different between you and Joe since the ski trip. Of course, since then you’d started talking more, calls on the phone at night, video chats while you were studying, sharing memes and random thoughts in each other’s Instagram DMs, and of course, a lot of explicit pictures and the like. But neither of you had repeated the sentiments you’d said in front of the fire as you tried to stay warm. It was scary. It felt like saying it would jinx you or something. Like if you admitted it, you’d have to label what you had and the only label available was one that would fuck everything up. Long distance never worked. But not saying anything left you floating in this weird limbo. You weren’t exactly together but you weren’t exactly single either. It was like friends with benefits but all the benefits were just teasing hints of what could possibly be. You’d probably have admitted some things out loud if it had seemed that Joe was ready to say them but he kept quiet so you did too. Your laid back approach to the relationship pissed off your friends and they all at one time or other tried to push you to tell Joe how deeply you cared for him, but you made your excuses and ignored them. Being so far away from the romantic atmosphere of a snow dusted cabin with a roaring fire, as well as so far away from the man you’d spent the time with, made you second guess if what you’d said had been real. Surely it was an exaggeration brought on by nostalgia and hormones. Yes, you felt something for Joe, yes you found him attractive, yes you’d love to have sex with him in the 3D world again, but maybe it wasn’t love. So you kept things in their limbo bubble. When other guys asked you out you turned them down and said you were kind of seeing someone already, you sent Joe steamy pictures of you in the shower and videos of you touching yourself and moaning his name (nearly always receiving something in return), but you never called him your boyfriend and you never really committed. Once or twice you thought that maybe Joe was trying to push things further but you couldn’t bring yourself to discuss it in case you were wrong so you didn’t know for sure. You didn’t even know if he was hooking up with anyone else or if you were right to feel jealous or upset at the thought that he might be.

But with the approach of the Summer break, Joe got some ideas. A break meant there was no classes to go to, no assignments due, no college to worry about. You were free to get on a plane and fly to another part of the country without worrying about missing something important. And that was exactly what Joe suggested.

“We should go somewhere, together. Chatting like this is great but I’d really like to see you again. In the flesh.” He laughed as he potted about his kitchen, one hand holding the phone up so you could see him.

“Going somewhere sounds fun,”

“Yeah, you’re in?”

“Depends where you had in mind.”

“I don’t know yet, still thinking. I’ll give you some ideas as soon as I have them though,”

 It was a few nights later, during one of your regular calls that Joe suggested you go back to where you first met, Hawaii. You readily agreed and began looking for flights, already composing an email to your parents in your head, telling them that you’d been invited to stay with a friend so wouldn’t be going home for the break. Joe sorted out your accommodation and by the time the last day of term rolled around you were packed and ready to go, mostly excited. There was a little apprehension, especially once you’d said goodbye to your friends and were on the road to the airport. They were obnoxiously condescending, telling you that seeing Joe again would be good for you and that you’d sort everything out. Most of the flight was spent trying not to worry about where you stood with Joe, or what to expect from the trip. Was it just about sex or was there more to it? But, in the second you saw him waiting at the airport in Honolulu, all you felt was relief. Joe was quick to pull you into a hug, wrapping you up tightly in his arms as he breathed out how much he’d missed you into your hair. And you squeezed him back just as hard.

Joe had managed to get a room at the same resort as the last time you’d been there. The room you were shown to after checking in was on a higher floor than you’d previously been, decorated with tropical pinks and yellows and featuring art of palm trees and flowers. It’s bathroom had two sinks and a bath big enough for you both, and the main room was largely taken up by a queen sized bed with soft pillows and complementary chocolates in the shape of shells. As soon as you put your bags down you threw yourself onto the bed.

“So much comfier than the one in my dorm room,” you laughed as Joe took the spot next to you, turning onto his side to face you.

“God yeah. I don’t know how I’m going to go back, I think this bed might ruin me for other beds.”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that for a few weeks at least,”

Joe yawned and nodded.

“Long day?”

“Kinda. Just finished everything up and getting to the airport and everything. How was your last day?”

“Yeah, the same really. Got a reply from mum trying to find out where I was going and with who,”

“Why does that not surprise me?” he laughed, “Did you tell her?”

“God no. If she knew I was here with you she’d either fly out to spy on us or tell everyone I’d run off to elope,”

“And we wouldn’t want either to happen,”

“Exactly.”

“So, I take it your family doesn’t know we’ve been…talking,”

“You are correct. I wasn’t going to tell them when I don’t- when we don’t see each other except over breaks.”

Joe nodded, “Yeah. But, hey, at least we don’t have to worry about sneaking around this time. We can make out on the beach as much as we want,”

You laughed and gently pushed him away but Joe caught your hand and kept it pinned to his chest as he leaned over to kiss you. The rest of the evening was spent in much the same way, laying on the bed talking between kisses until you both fell asleep.

When you woke in the morning it was with Joe’s arm around you and his chest against your back. It was comfortable and comforting to sleep beside him again and you began to wonder if maybe you hadn’t been exaggerating last time. Maybe you’re friends had been right. You wriggled out from under his arm so you could go to the bathroom but when you returned you snuggled back in against him, burying your face in his chest to sleep a little longer.

Waking up the second time was just as good, or better even since Joe was already awake.

“Morning, gorgeous,”

“Morning,” you smiled, pressing your lips to his quickly, “sleep okay?”

“Really well.”

“Me too. Kinda don’t wanna move,”

“We don’t have to,” he shrugged, shuffling around to press himself closer to you, his fingers beginning to trace lazy patterns on your side, “could just stay here all day.”

“Like the sound of that,” you purred. With your bodies so close you could feel what you had to assume was his morning wood though his pants, and you couldn’t deny that sex was definitely one of the big reasons going away together had seemed like such a good idea. Even if there was confusion about what exactly was happening, you knew the sex would be clear and simple. And, after all of the photos and videos and live chats you’d teased each other with, you wanted it to happen sooner rather than later. “Did you remember to pack enough condoms this time?”

“Hey, if you’ll remember correctly, I had enough last time. It was just that during our first time I was so wound up and pissed off that I forgot where I put them.”

“Didn’t answer my question,”

“Yes, I bought enough. Like…fifty of them.”

“Is that an actual figure or just an expression?”

“An actual figure.”

“Well then we have seventy all up cause I also brought a couple of boxes. That should be enough, right?”

“I think so,” Joe laughed.

“You wanna start using them now?”

“Definitely,”

You giggled as Joe rolled you onto your back and kissed you, his legs settling between yours. Kissing was very nice but you wanted more so you rolled your hips against his, hoping he’d get the message.

“Someone’s a bit needy,” he teased, letting you sit up so he could pull your shirt off, “miss me did you?”

“Joe, I’ve been celibate since winter, you don’t have to tease me to get me worked up, I’m already there.”

“Thank god.” He laughed, the sound muffled as you pulled his shirt over his head, “I’ve been trying not to jump you since you got off the plane.”

“So, you didn’t sleep with anyone else?”

Joe paused in his mission to get your pants off, “Why would you think that?”

You shrugged, “I didn’t I just…wasn’t sure.”

“Well I haven’t,” Joe held your gaze to try and reassure you but he quickly slipped back into the demeanour he’d had before the interruption, “And I think the proof will be in how quickly I finish. Just the sight of your bra has got me dangerously close. I mean, do you know how good it is to see your boobs in real life again?” he placed his hands on your breasts and squeezed them.

“Better hurry up and get your pants off then,” you laughed, reaching forward to pull them down, “wouldn’t want you to make a mess in them,”

“Alright, alright,” he batted your hand away so he could roll off the bed and kick his pants off his ankles, “I’m going to grab a condom and the lube from my bag, you just lie there and look pretty. And stay horny,”

“No danger of losing that,” you muttered which made Joe laugh again. You pulled off your underwear, both your bra and panties flung out of sight, and settled back against the pillows. Letting your legs spread you trailed your hand down between them, lightly stroking yourself. You were already wet, just the promise of sex with Joe enough to get you going after so long without anyone else’s touch. But you didn’t want to wait too much longer so you slowly sank your middle finger into your pussy.

“Jesus,” you said, swallowing hard, when he turned and saw you, “What are you doing that for?”

“Figured I’d, ah, save you the trouble, since you’re so close. Wouldn’t want you to touch me and end things before they began,”

“Gonna need more than one finger then, aren’t you,”

You nodded, your hips rising as you added a second. You bit your lip as you met Joe’s eyes, dark with lust, as he climbed onto the end of the bed and settled there on his knees. He watched you as he opened the condom and put it on, softly complementing you, telling you how incredible you looked and how long he’d been waiting for this and how badly he wanted you. He kept egging you on, his voice studded with sharp intakes of breath hissed though his teeth as he spread the lube along his shaft.

“You ready for me?” he asked, walking forward on his knees.

“Mmhmm, so ready,” you almost whined, removing your fingers and holding them out for him.

Joe grabbed your wrist with one hand, his other resting on your knee as he took your fingers between his lips, humming around them. When he was done you let your hand fall to the bed as he settled between your legs and lined himself up, pushing into you slowly. You gasped at the sensation, a slight sting accompanying the pleasurable fullness, though it faded as you adjusted. Joe paused once he’d bottomed out, his eyes closed and browns furrowed.

“Fuck,” was all he said but you knew what he meant. He took a few moments to collect himself before he pulled back a little and eased in again. “God, I was joking before about being close but I actually don’t know that I’ll last that long. You feel fucking amazing.”

You chuckled and pulled him down to kiss you, “Don’t care, just fuck me okay?”

He nodded and drew his hips back before snapping them forward again, finding a rhythm that worked for you both.

Joe was right in saying he wouldn’t last long but he held off as long as he could, trying to get you to the same point, his fingers on your clit and his lips on your neck. It didn’t work though you could feel the orgasm creeping up on you when he groaned and stilled.

“Fuck, sorry,” he said, kissing you again.

“S’alright,”

“Hang on, I can still – ” he readjusted himself, shuffling down the bed, “do this.”

Your back arched as he licked along your slit, “Yeah, that’ll work,” you breathed out, falling into a moan as he sucked your clit into his mouth, replacing his cock with his fingers.

“Missed your pussy,” he said against you, his voice rough, as he worked you towards the edge, “Been thinking about doing this for so long,”

You moaned again, managing to choke out his name as he focused on your cunt, his lips tight around your clit, his fingers pounding into you. You came like that, his face buried between your legs as you cried out your release and he worked you through it.

“How was that?” he asked, wiping his mouth on his arm, and crawling back up the bed so he could wrap his arms around you again.

“Give me a minute,”

“Alright,” he dropped a small kiss to your temple, “actually, hang on I have something for you,”

You looked around confusedly as he got off the bed and, pulling his underwear on, rummaged through his bag again. When he came back to the bed he handed you a long, thin package, wrapped up in shiny wrapping paper.

“What is it?”

“You do know what a surprise is, don’t you?”

“Shut up, I mean’t what’s it for?”

“Well, I don’t know if you realised this but, it’s been a year since we met. Figured I’d get you something to mark the occasion.”

You looked down at the gift and then back at Joe, “I didn’t get you anything,”

“That’s alright, I wasn’t expecting anything,”

You shook your head, “No, I should have thought. I just wasn’t sure what was going on between us.”

“Yeah, I know,”

“I thought things would be different after the ski trip and I guess they were because we were like talking regularly and all that but…what are we Joe?”

“Just open the present, Y/N.”

You frowned at being blown off when you’d finally actually voiced what had been playing on your mind for so long but turned your attention to the item in your hands anyway. Inside the wrapping paper was a box and inside that was a bracelet chain.

Joe lifted it from the box delicately and wrapped it around your wrist, “I know things have been kind of weird and uncertain but I meant everything I said on that ski trip. We’ve known each other for a year and, even though there was time in there where we weren’t in contact, I still think that’s long enough to fall in love. And I guess this is my way of trying to say that and to make up for all the times I haven’t said it lately. After we went back to school last time I started to worry that if I said it again it would jinx things. But that was stupid. I should have told you I love you every time we talked. Even if we couldn’t be together in person.”

You looked at the bracelet closely as he closed the clasp, taking in the charms dangling from the chain. A Christmas tree, a snow globe, a plumeria flower and a heart.

“Most of the charms are to represent moments we’ve had together but the heart is so that, even while we’re apart, you know you have mine. Also the snow globe was as close as I could get to anything skiing related.”

You chuckled softly, “it’s perfect,”

“Good. You’ll also notice that there is a room for a lot more charms to fit on there and I intend to help you fill it. We don’t have much longer left at college so the next one will probably be a graduation cap or something and then we can talk about where to go next. LA or New York or wherever. We can figure things out, actually date, maybe move in together if we wanted. I can introduce you to my family who are just as weird as yours but in a different way. My folks already know about you and are very keen to meet you by the way. And then we can give your mum a heart attack by telling her we’re together. And we’ll make it work. Does that sound okay?”

You nodded, too choked up to speak, and kissed him.

 Joe ordered room service while you got cleaned up and dressed which you took onto the balcony to eat before heading back to bed. In the afternoon you left the room to walk along the beach, hand in hand, leaning on each other as the sun began to set. Joe wrapped his arms around your stomach and leaned his chin on your shoulder as you looked out over the ocean.

“I have a good feeling about this vacation,” he said softly, rocking you gently.

“Me too.” You turned to face Joe, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I love you,”

“I love you too,”

When the sun had sufficiently set you began to pull Joe back up to your room, “Y’know,” you said as you pressed the button for the elevator, “I still feel bad that you got me such a thoughtful present and I got you shit all,”

“I told you it’s fine,”

“I know, but I thought of something I could give you,”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” You led Joe into the elevator and pressed the button for your floor.

“Well what is it?”

“Anything you want,”

“What?”

“I was thinking we’d start with a bath together, and then you could have me however you wanted,” you pulled Joe’s hand up towards your throat, “you could choke me out, I know you enjoy doing that, or I could blow you or I don’t know. Whatever you’d imagined doing to me, you can do it.”

Joe growled, his grip on your throat tightening, “I’ve imagined a lot of things,”

“Good thing we’ve got so many condoms then.”

[mysticgalaxie]

After Dr. Randolph Bell broke it off with Quovadis, and he assumed that all would be fine, after the dust settled. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Chapter 4

Word count: 1,567

View on wattpad:https://www.wattpad.com/story/251464169?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=MysticGalaxie&wp_originator=zNsC0o3vkOy%2BG9YT7%2BMfwk1HBv30p1EeGuO3%2B1mmcFRmflErd3pE2IXnJDzOBNyI0dQ2vCO4l5rdkUQJ6ZGeJmwwlQsQWwDeZ%2Fpb4k8ixiU6lksWOomEAQFkJMYi%2Fmso

It seemed like forever. The moments had dragged on ever since Conrad had entered that bathroom a few hours ago. Every second seemed to be 5 years, yet every hour seemed to fly by. Nothing was making sense right now. Conrad thought about everything as the cold, bitter rain forced him into an alert state. He shivered yet he payed it no attention - his physical health didn't matter right now, his mental did.

He stayed focused, not even noticing that Kit had stepped outside. However, she stayed under the cover, staying out of the rain. "Conrad!" She called, hoping to get his attention without having to get into the rain herself.

This caused Conrad to break out of his state, and he then turned towards her. She just looked upset, and the more Conrad examined her he could tell she had been crying recently. Randolph is her best friend, in all fairness.

She just sighed. "Come on, get out of the rain.. You'll catch a cold." She spoke, her almost mothering instincts had taken control.

Conrad didn't wish to upset her anymore so he stepped under the overhang with her. "I just... Needed a clear head. The rain helped but i guess i got carried away." Conrad spoke, running his hand through his hair, which was dripping wet. Kit only sighed, sniffling a bit.

"I get it, trust me... I just don't want anything to happen to you, even a minor cold can ruin your day..." She said, voice wavering a bit. Conrad could tell she was only trying to hold it together while he was around.

"Kit. You don't have to try and be strong around me. We are all taking this pretty hard. You don't need to try to protect me, if that's what you're worried about." He spoke honestly.

Kit just looked down, shivering from the cold breeze a bit herself. "I know. It just makes me feel better to help somebody else since i can't really help Randolph or myself... If that even makes any sense at all..." She mumbled.

Conrad just nodded sympathetically. "It does. Come on, lets get inside. Its cold and i need to dry off." Conrad spoke, holding his hand out for her to take. After a quick breather, Kit took his hand and they walked into the hospital again.

As they walked past the cafeteria, Conrad spotted Devon and Aj. He noticed they were talking, but he couldn't really read either of their expressions. He chose to keep walking until he got to the elevator, knowing he needed to dry off before he even attempted doing anything else. Kit only followed, wanting to go up to recovery to check on Randolph.

Meanwhile, in the cafeteria Devon and Aj had gotten a coffee and sat down at a table. Both of the men were silent, sipping on their coffees with occasional sighs. That was, until Aj broke the almost unbearable silence. "So. I know maybe now isn't the best time but we don't have anything else to do, so we should talk. Especially about earlier." Aj spoke, trying to spark up a conversation even if it was a hard one to have.

Devon sipped his coffee as he stared down at the table. "What do you want me to say?" He snappily responded, without even really thinking about it, but instantly he regretted it. "Sorry- sorry." He spoke, correcting himself for being rude. Aj just nodded politely, letting Devon speak his mind.

"I don't know how to feel. I used to not like Randolph, but he changed. He started to come around us more, make logical decisions that i can actually respect- I think we all started to accept him in our little circle, clique or whatever you want to call it. Not only that but I feel like we should have KNOWN. Like- like if we just were a little more observant nothing would have happened. Maybe he wouldn't be on deaths door right now." Devon spoke honestly, pouring everything out.

Aj just nodded, being more than willing to play the role of therapist for the moment. He could tell Devon needed it. After hearing everything Devon had to say, Aj began to speak in response.

"I understand. Randolph and I tend to argue a lot when it comes to the medical field, but lately he's been making changes which only makes this harder. Not only that, but your guilt is clouding over you. It is normal, but not reasonable. There is nothing you could have done differently, we all chose the location cooperatively and we all thought it would be fine. You are not to blame, and neither are we. Gordon page is to blame." Aj spoke, using his words of wisdom.

Devon just seemed to listen to everything, trying to actually take in what he said and meant. Devon just sighed and looked down. "Tell me honestly you don't feel guilty either. Even a bit. Regretful even?" He asked softly, though his tone held a slight edge to it.

Aj just froze for a brief moment. He knew lying to Devon wouldn't get him anywhere and Devon could probably call his bluff. He just crossed his arms a bit before responding. "We all do. In situations of trauma it happens. Everybody does it and i won't lie to you and say I'm not thinking over every detail. I just know that feeling like it's my fault won't get me anywhere." Aj admitted.

Devon looked up at him, and he only nodded. "Yeah, okay." He replied shortly, before they both fell into uncomfortable silence.

-

Conrad, who was now mostly dry, walked back to Nic and Mina. Nic was just staring at her hands as Mina watched the T.v. News was all over what happened at that bar, and Mina had kind of zoned out listening to the reporter. Conrad tried his best to ignore it as he walked over to Nic, sitting on the opposite side of her as Mina.

Kit was also now on the floor, and she went straight towards the rooms. Conrad watched her go before he placed his full attention on Nic. He gently took her hand, kissing it like a prince would a princess.

She wiped any remaining tears away with her free hand as she looked back at Conrad. She obviously wasn't okay but she was trying to be. "Hey... Are you okay?" She asked gently, but Conrad didn't answer her question.

"No. Its not all about me. Nic, talk to me. I want to make sure you're okay. You can't let yourself fall apart in favor of trying to help others." He tried to persuade, Nic only looked up at him for a moment, before connecting their lips. It was much needed.

Conrad kissed her back gently, trying his best to pour all of his built up tension into it. Nic did the same, gently touching Conrad's face as she pulled away with the faintest of smiles. That definitely helped.

She went to speak, before somebody stepped onto the floor. It was Grayson. He looked panicked. His mother was behind him, but she didn't seem nearly as concerned as Grayson was. Conrad stood up, and before he could speak, Grayson did. "Where is he?? What happened??" He spoke quickly.

Conrad walked over to him and hugged him tight, he knew Grayson really cared about Randolph. "Kid... Come here, sit down with me for a minute." Conrad tried to coax him over. Grayson just slowly nodded, following Conrad over to the seats.

Grayson sat down then, and Conrad sat beside him. Nic stood up and went to the bathroom quickly. Mina let her go, but she kept her eyes in the direction of the bathroom.

Conrad took a deep breath, looking at Grayson. Seeing how panicked he was only made this harder. Conrad swallowed the lump forming in his throat as he started to speak.

"Grayson... He was stabbed. He went into surgery a bit ago. They did their best to repair the damage but... He's in critical condition. If he makes it through tonight, he'll be in a bad condition for awhile..." He slowly answered. He wasn't gonna sugarcoat it.

Grayson froze for a minute, as if he physically couldn't process what Conrad had just told him. Conrad knew the feeling so he just stayed quiet for the moment, and let him process it all. Grayson didn't know what to say, so he just managed to ask, "C-Can I see him...?"

Conrad just slowly nodded. He stood up and lead Grayson to Randolph's room. He was still unconscious, hooked to machines. His pulse was steady, and his breathing was even. He seemed... Oddly peaceful. Kit was in the room, tears running down her face.

As Grayson tried to choke down his own soft sobs, he turned to Conrad and hugged him, burying his face into his chest as he started to cry. Conrad just held him through it, knowing this wasn't easy, especially since Grayson began getting close with Randolph in the recent months.

Conrad found his mentality falling, as he watched every one around him struggle. Nobody seemed to be doing okay. It was undeniably hard, and he knew he wasn't alone. He sighed as Kit looked over to him, her tear stained face only hurting Conrad worse. He really hoped Randolph would be okay - for everyone's sake.

[havenesa-sera-fina]

Hidden Marks [4: Promises and Regrets]

Summary: Wrapping his own arms around her shoulders, Namjoon pulled her in, resting his head on the crown of her head, his heart beating steadily, which Sera heard and smiled to herself. Even with his odd lengthy limbs, they fit together perfectly, "Sera, I'm falling in love with you, that I want to convince you not to go, but I trust you. I just want you to be happy, to never cry over us again. I can't promise you that if you choose to stay with us, everything will be rainbows and sunshine, but I promise you that we won't give up on you, on this relationship. We're not perfect like everyone thinks we are, we're not the perfect bunch of soulmates, we have problems as a group and individuals, secrets that we all keep, burdens that we try to carry on our own. Though we all have each other, to fall back on when things get brought, and that includes you now. We're soulmates, so if anything happens, don't be scared to tell us.

(Poly BTS/OT7 x Reader/OC)

College Au / Soulmate Au

Disclaimer: Bts isn't my or any real life people (obviously.) Any other characters are my though. This is my story so do not republish this anywhere or I will report.

There maybe some triggers, but I will address them within the chapters.

Sources: Wattpad

Word count: 2199

I didn't leave my room.

Well, that was a lie.

I would leave whenever I knew Kimie had left for classes for the day. Occasionally she would knock on my door, to tell me there was food to eat. Kimie always made sure to tell me whenever she was going to leave and would text me when she was gonna come back. Maybe she was just trying to give me room to breathe, and I was grateful for it.

It continued like that till next Monday, luckily my doctor emailed my school about why I was missing school for a week. I also managed to finish any online assignments that my teachers posted.

I didn't want to get too far behind.

Reluctantly I woke up early this morning and began my usual morning routine to get ready for school. I was more cautious though, to make fewer sounds as I didn't want to wake up Kimie.

When I walk through the campus, I kept my head low, but I didn't even know why. I expected to feel anxious and scared to jump into Lilia or any of her boyfriends, but I felt nothing. Ever since I said those words to Jungkook, I felt hopelessly empty.

Maybe it was because I wasn't taking my medication, and with that, I made a mental note to call my doctor later. Earlier when I walked out to the living room, I didn't see any of my pills on the ground, which Kimie most likely cleaned up. Now that did cause me to feel something, guilt.

"You're finally up and walking darling!" I heard a familiar and comforting voice behind me, as I stopped walking and turned around. Baekhyun with his dazzling smile and warm eyes stared back at me.

Not with pity, sadness or with cautious eyes, but his usual self.

I was grateful to him.

When he reached me, he engulfed me in a hug without another word, and just held me there. In his arms, it always felt safe and reassuring, but it didn't ever fill that empty feeling. However, with nearly a week of isolation from people, I really just needed to be held.

So instead of pulling away, I buried my face into his chest, as I wrapped my own arms around him. In return, he tightened his grip, resting his chin on my head, as he murmured a simple, "I'm here, you're not alone Sera."

Those words caused a faucet within me to turn, as the tears came slowly at first, but within a few moments, I was sobbing in his arms, "Everything hurts Baekhyun," I knew people were staring, but I didn't care, "I wish we can just go back to high school, so I don't have to feel all this pain."

"We can't ever go back...but know, that I'm always here. You can share your pain with me, you don't have to bare it alone.

"It hurts whenever I see them together, it hurt so fucking badly."

There was a wisp of a lie, as the pain was numb, both emotionally and physically. I just couldn't figure out which was worse, the numbness or the pain.

*****

Snorting, I wanted to fling my sandwich at Baekhyun as he showered me with senseless and the weirdest praises. His attempts to make me feel better.

We were currently seated at a café off-campus, but nearby enough where we just walked there. I ended up skipping class, with Baekhyun convincing me, as he showed me that he already picked up the notes I've missed and the paper assignments he had. Guess he was planning to take me out whenever I decide to leave the comforts of my room.

"Remember they are just Walmart and you are target!" He all but yelled at me, garnering a few looks from nearby customers. Some with annoyance and others with amusement, "They're just samples and you're a full-course meal!"

That one I nearly choked on the coffee I was drinking, and burst out laughing, "What the hell Hyunnie."

A wide smile spread across his face, "Honestly, they're missing out if you asked me," he then shoved a huge piece of his pancake in his mouth.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned back into my chair and crossed my arms over my chest, "We still up to go to the fair?"

"Hell yeah! Let's go this Saturday and just go crazy, forget everything, scream our lungs out, walk till our legs give out, stuff our stomachs till we give birth to a food baby and get wasted!"

Much to the contradictory belief that Baekhyun was as innocent can be with his appearance, he was quite a party animal when he wanted to be. Even throughout our high school years, we went to multiple parties, from the simple ones to the ones that cops would bust down. Of course, he never let his partying ways affect him academically, as he was a dazzling student, but whenever he needed to let off some steam, you'd find him at some frats house party. Occasionally he'd drag me along with him, and it wasn't the partying that was worth memorizing, but it was the drunken talks and confessions that were worth remembering if I could remember them at least.

We were so preoccupied, that we didn't notice three figures walk into the café and take a seat to the table next to us.

Once I drank all my coffee, I ended up ordering another as I still felt tired and miserable. Though it was lessened with Baekhyun.

Running a hand down my face, I sighed slightly in frustration, "How the hell am I going to apologize to Lilia? I practically yelled at her boyfriend and been a shitty friend.

Baekhyun scoffed at that, "why do you need to apologize?" His voice sounded slightly harsh, but I knew it wasn't directed towards me, "You were already having a shit couple of days and the moment you decide to go home, she blows upon your face? To top it all off, she crossed a boundary when she tried revealing your marks."

That part I couldn't easily forgive and forget.

Lilia, Kimie and Baekhyun knew about how I felt about my marks. How I didn't feel at all comfortable about showing it to anyone. Also, the topic of soulmates and how I never liked talking about it. It was ironic, when I was younger I never shut up about it.

Yet Lilia had completely disregard and pushed every boundary there was, and yet, I still felt guilty, "she was just worried about me."

"We all were and you don't see Kimie trying to force you to do something you didn't want to do."

We paused momentarily when the waiter came back with our coffees, before Baekhyun continued on with his little speech, "I get you feel like you owe her and that you made a promise, but you need to start thinking about yourself. About your health and happiness darling. What happened years ago wasn't your fault, and no one should hold it over your head. Sure your brother wanted Lilia to be happy and loved, but I'm sure as hell he wants the very same for you."

"Maybe I'm being selfish, but I wish I never took that gap year," I mumbled, shoulders sinking as I could only stare at my coffee. I had now lost my appetite for any sweets, "Things could have been so different."

"It's not selfish!" He spoke a little too loudly, causing some people to now hush him a little, but he paid no mind, "You could still change things, still be with your soulmates. The only one holding yourself back is yourself."

"How can I possibly ruin Lilia's happiness now?"

"She would understand, and if she doesn't, then she never really was your friend in the first place."

Even with Baekhyun's words, it didn't stop the guilt eating away at me, for everything.

Lilia was just worried about me, that was the reason why she blew up on me. Even I could admit that I hardly tell her much of anything and that I did become distant. Because no matter what, they were always with her, and it was just so damn painful to be around her, with them being so loving and caring towards her. It was selfish, but I can't help but feel bitter whenever I see them together.

"Hey," a voice cut beside us, and I flinched at the harshness because I knew who it was from.

Turning to look, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Hoseok we're sitting beside us, with their own coffee and food. All three hard an unreadable expression, except Yoongi, who seemed to have a pissed off one. His glare was directed towards me and it caused me to shift uncomfortably in my chair.

"We'd appreciate if you wouldn't talk about our girlfriend behind her back," Yoongi bit out, obvious anger seeping out of him.

However, instead of feeling my mark flare up in pain, there was this numbing feeling that overcame me. I only stared blankly at him, not really knowing what to say. Any other time my heart would skip a beat, but I don't even know if it's still beating right now.

Then I remembered last night, that I indirectly rejected them.

"And I'd appreciate if she doesn't force someone to reveal their soul marks," Baekhyun hissed out, with just enough venom as he matched Yoongi's glare.

I moved my eyes away from the three boys and back at Baekhyun, who looked ready to jump at Yoongi. Sighing, I kicked him gently underneath the table to catch his attention, "Let's go, I can miss my chem class but not my bio class."

"Why the hell do we have to leave?" He hissed out.

Rolling my eyes, I stood up and gathered my stuff, "Because I'm tired Hyunnie, so let's just go. Okay?"

He didn't reply for a second, but then he stood up, and glared angrily at the three boys, "You better keep your girlfriend in check, because next time she tries to force Sera into doing something she doesn't want to do, we're going to have problems."

"Baekhyun!" I gasped at his little threat.

I knew Baekhyun was never fond of Lilia, but she was still my friend and even I don't appreciate his threat towards her. The three boys didn't also.

"What! She has seven guys protecting her, you need someone to be on your side!"

I only rolled my eyes, before dragging him out the Cafe.

The three boys watched them leave, as Taehyung ran his hands through his hair, a sigh of frustration gaining the attention of his other soulmates. He felt so many emotions, that he couldn't pinpoint an exact one, "Why the hell does she hate us so much? She cursed at Kookie for god's sake."

Ever since last week when Jungkook brought a sobbing Lilia back to their apartment, Taehyung had felt such a numb feeling. Something felt off, and even the sight of his crying girlfriend couldn't make him break out of it. When Jungkook then told them what had transpired, he was filled with so much rage, but not towards Sera but at Lilia, for trying to force someone to reveal their soulmate mark. So when she looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to comfort her, it only filled him with annoyance that he just went in his room and ignored her.

Soul marks were something so intimate and private, and people should be allowed to hide it if they wanted to. To have someone try to force a person to reveal it, it just wasn't something right.

Jimin has attempted to ask why he was being cold towards Lilia but in all honesty, he didn't know.

Taehyung was never like this, always being the first to comfort Lilia whenever she was upset, make her feel loved and safe. However, something about this situation just felt off, and he ended up telling Jimin to drop it and to leave him alone. To which he did, but without stating that Lilia was upset at him.

"Why do you care if she likes us or not?" Hoseok asks curiously, bringing up his hand to comfortingly rubbing the silver-haired boy's neck.

Instantly the touch of his soulmate soothes him, and he leaned into Hoseok's touch, "It's just that..." he whined slightly, trying to find the right words to express how he felt, "Since last week I've felt off and I don't know why. I don't like the fact that Sera doesn't like us for no reason."

He ended up burying his head into Hoseok's shoulder, just trying to relish in his warmth and presence. Usually just cuddling to anyone of his soulmate would comfort him, but this time it didn't and it left an empty feeling in his heart.

Taehyung missed the worried looks that Hoseok and Yoongi shared with one another.

The one feeling that was clear, was the anger he felt when he saw Baekhyun's hand on Sera's lower back, to guide her out of the café.

Never before did he feel like attacking another person.

[julemmaes]

Pas des crêpes // part one

James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs modern au

Boooy I’m so excited to write this short story, I can't wait to write Matthew and Lucie’s part, it'll probably be the longest part. Anyway, enojy this corner of paradise cause I have yet to decide if they’re all gonna be fluffy or if I’m gonna put some angst in the thomastair one (cause I can’t help myself).

Word count: 4,766

The epic music was coming out of the speakers at such a high volume that Cordelia wondered how they were still on good terms with their neighbors. As the credits ran down the screen, she heard someone stand up on the other side of the couch and then the lights went on.

Thomas, sitting at the foot of the armchair Alastair sat on, grunted and Cordelia found herself blinking, trying to get used to the light. One hand landed on her knee and she turned to James, covering her mouth with one hand while yawning. Her boyfriend smiled at her with slightly red eyes because of the last three hours spent watching TV and was going to ask her if she wanted him to kick everyone one so she could sleep peacefully, she knew it, he asked her every week when it was movie night, but he was beaten to the punch by someone else.

“Guys?” Matthew asked, who was lying on James’ other side. He had not moved since the beginning of the film and Cordelia seriously thought he was dead, and after he had spoken she was still not so sure of his physical state because it seemed that he had just swallowed a lemon from how hoarse his voice sounded. Lucie, who looked just as puzzled as her and was sitting on the carpet in front of them, turned to look at him and, seeming amused, she giggled, “Oh, my God, were you crying?” she asked stunned, but with a playful tone.

All the heads snapped in his direction and Christopher was about to comment, the grin on his lips the only sign that it wouldn’t be nice for the boy, when James put his arm around Matthew, completely forgetting Cordelia, who nearly fell to the side to the sudden lack next to her. “ Don’t you dare insult him. Math has every right to cry over this movie. It’s tragic.” He said in a threatening tone, daring anyone to open their mouth.

Matthew shook him off and with a pout that would have made envy to a five-year-old child he murmured, “I wasn’t crying.”

Lucie completely ignored him, leaning his chin on his brother’s leg, stretching an arm and pricking him with a finger on his chest. “ You don’t want us to make fun of him, because you were crying, too.”

Cordelia restrained a laugh, looking at the expression of pure bafflement on the boy’s face. It was true, James cried for almost everything they watched, whether it was a cartoon, a tv series or a documentary about how basketball balls are made. “ How dare you?” he brought a hand to his chest, pretending to be shocked, “Me? Crying for a movie? Never.” he said shaking his head as an evil grin appeared on his face, very similar to the one Christopher wore a few seconds earlier, “The only softie here is Matthew.”

“Softie?” Thomas asked laughing, “What, you cry for movies and you’re eighty now?”

Lucie burst into laughter and sat on her knees, crawling towards Tom, leaning against Alastair’s other leg, who watched them all very quietly but had a big smile on his face. Cordelia exchanged an amused look with his brother, who rolled his eyes, knowing full well how it would end.

“For real, Jamie, who still uses softie?” asked her sister, ready to shoot the next arrow, “I would have used things like wimp.”

“Or pussy.” retorted Thomas, always laughing.

“Whiner would have been fine too.” Christopher stepped in and stood up to turn off the television.

“Wussy?” Alastair asked, trying to get involved. Thomas turned to look at him and Alastair’s smile grew even more, until he turned into an even more childish pout than Matthew’s when his boyfriend answered him, “No, too simple.”

“And pussy that is literally the word from which it comes is not?” asked Alastair in a huff, receiving as a response a simple hit on the knee from Lucie.

Cordelia stood up, having an epiphany, “Mollycoddle!?”

“Mollycoddle!” they all screamed together and then burst out laughing. James and Matthew were sitting on the couch, arms crossed on their chests and heads hidden between the shoulders. Both had an expression of deep sorrow.

Cordelia laughed louder, when James looked directly at her and tried to look even more upset by arching his eyebrows and almost completely hiding his eyes.

When everyone sighed and wiped their tears, they were all looking at each other, hoping someone would propose what to do. When the silence in the room became too long, Lucie and Cordelia looked at each other again and it didn’t take long before they burst into a fit of laughters again, bend in two.

“When you two are done being bitches,” said Matthew, putting his hands on his knees, a general uuh rose from the room. “Then maybe we could go get something to eat, because I’ve been starving since the beginning of the second part.”

“You mean before or after you started crying?” Christopher asked him with a strange twinkle in his eyes. Cordelia carried one hand to her mouth, blocking it with the other, to prevent herself from laughing again, fearing she would choke. A warm hand landed on her back and turned just in time to smash her lips against James’s. She broke off almost immediately, not wanting to embarrass anyone, but at least the smile was back on his face. She was used to the touches and the small displays of affection from him when they were with their friends, but kissing was more rare, especially when Lucie and Alastair were present and they never failed to make them notice.

She lost herself for a few seconds in that amber look, before returning to  the conversation– more like the quarrel– between Lucie and Matthew.

“If I wasn’t so hungry, I’d spill all the noodles on your head.” he was telling her.

“Ah yes? Can you even cook them?” she answered him sticking her tongue out. Matthew shook his head, wrinkling his eyebrows, “Yes, you dumbass, everyone knows how to make noodles.”

“Too bad though, that we ate the last portion last night and that there is nothing in the fridge.” said James scratching the back of his neck. Matthew let himself fall back on the couch, making an exasperated sound, “Jeez, this is the worst day of my life.”

“We could always go to the grocery store at the end of the road and come back here for a noodle party.” proposed Chrisopher, always with that strange glimmer in his eyes. Cordelia raised an eyebrow, curious to know what was making her friend so cheerful. Not that he wasn’t happy normally, but that pompous behavior was different than usual. He seemed more relaxed. She shrugged, she would have thought about asking him what was going on in his life tomorrow.

“Or, you could go back to the holes you crawled out of and let me and my beautiful lady here take our-” he stopped himself eyeing the clock on the wall, grumbling before continuing with whiny voice, “Four hours of beauty sleep before we have to wake up for work.” He looked at her hopefully, and she nodded smiling sweetly at him.

He heard Lucie snort and Matthew snapped up, “I can’t believe you’ve become such a softie.” said the boy while a grimace of disgust appeared on his lips. “Bros before hoes, Jamie. Bros before hoes. It’s that simple.”

Cordelia saw Alastair shaking his head amused and Thomas getting up, giving a hand to his boyfriend and the other to Lucie to help them stand up. They both accepted and nearly all three of them fell back when Thomas put too much effort into raising them. They were all too tired lately, maybe they should have taken a break from everything and go on a short holiday.

In the meantime, James was smacking Matthew over the head, telling him to stop being such an idiot.

“Come on, Math, I’ll buy you all the noodles you want.” Christopher said, offering him an arm. Matthew sighed resigned, interwining his arm with that of his friend and leaning his head on his shoulder, “Now that you and Grace have become serious, you will leave me too.”

Cordelia’s head snapped to Lucie’s direction, and when she saw that her friend was also shocked, she realized she wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what they were talking about. She turned to Christopher, clearing her throat, “Kit?” she called drawing everyone’s attention to her. She opened her arms, putting on a lost face, “What the hell are you talking about? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell us?” she said gesturing with one finger between her and the only other girl in the room, who with just as much disappointment said, “Yeah, when were you going to tell us?”

A sound very similar to the cry of a dog whose tail had just been stepped on left Christopher’s mouth, which turning red scratched his chin, looking thoughtful. Finally met the look of the two girls, “Tomorrow?” He hesitated, implying that he had never thought to speak to either of them the next day.

“I can’t believe it, you’re telling me everything.” Lucie said covering the distance between her and the young Lightwood in a few seconds and taking him arm in arm on the free side. She looked over her shoulder at Cordelia, who was now amazed, even more shocked that she wouldn’t be part of that gossip session so juicy that the idea of sending her nap with James to hell was starting to form in her head. She was going to tell her friends that they couldn’t talk about it without her, when someone hugged her from behind and her boyfriend’s familiar smell filled her nostrils. She calmed down visibly, but was still shocked by the news. Grace. With Christopher.

“Don’t think you dodged a bullet, Kit. I’ll stop by your office tomorrow for lunch and you’ll tell me all about it.” Cordelia said. A tone that left no room for reruns. “Actually, I’m supposed to be with Grace at lunch tomorrow, so…” he left the sentence unfinished, apologizing with his eyes. They all turned to the door when they heard someone sighing dramatically and Matthew appeared from behind the wall, wearing his jacket and passing Lucie’s coat to her. She gave him a grateful smile, but looked away quickly, as if she were embarrassed.

Interesting. Cordelia should have talked to Lucie as well.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Math said in a more dramatic tone than was necessary, “You are teaming up against me and finding love under rocks, as if it’s nothing, while I,” he brought a hand to his heart, holding the fabric of the jacket between his fingers, as to suggest how much this thing hurt him, “I’m alone. And I will never find my soul mate. Or eternal love.” He concluded by gasping, closing his eyes to amplify the whole. Cordelia heard James giggling with his nose buried in her hair, but she barely noticed.

She noticed, however, the color that lit up Lucie’s cheeks. Yes, definitely, she should have talked to her as soon as possible.

“Cut it and get out of this house.” Thomas said, passing by hi, to reach the coat rack and start dressing up.

The others imitated him and after several hugs and kisses and promises to talk about secret loves, James and Cordelia found themselves alone in their apartment and drew a breath of relief. The house was so quiet without their friends, but she did not mind, that calm peace…

“As much as I love them, I don’t mind this silence."Jamie whispered in her ear. She smiled, turning in his arms and holding both hands up to cup his face, "I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He smiled kindly at her and the weariness in his eyes made her melt. He was so cute when he was tired. She pulled hersel up, pushing her body against his, and then they were kissing. It was a slow kiss and not at all rough. He was stroking her hair and her hands slipped around his neck. He moaned in the kiss and when she parted her lips to let him in, their tongues clashed.

That was them. James and Cordelia. Two bodies in tune with each other. It was James who broke the kiss, but only because Cordelia’s stomach growled so loudly that he was forced to pull away in order not to laugh in her mouth. He looked at her amused, “Do you want me to call the others and ask them to bring us noodles? I’m sure Matthew would threaten to commit suicide, but I don’t think they’d let you starve.” Cordelia giggled thinking of a desperate Matthew staggering around saying he had become the slave of the group. She shook her head, pressing her forehead on his chest, “No thanks, I’d rather eat something else.” she whispered. “Plus, I want to spend some alone time with you, it’s been a long time since we spent a night together. Just the two of us.” she concluded glaring up at him.

“All right.” he laid a quick kiss on her lips, before breaking away from the hug. “What do you want to eat?” He asked her on his way to the kitchen.

Cordelia brought a finger to her lips, thinking, “I don’t know.” “How about cookies?” James asked, stopping without any notice, making her slam against his back.

“I don’t think Mr and Mrs Shaw can handle any more noise tonight,” she said, passing him, tapping on the phone to look at the time. 2:56 a.m. She opened her eyes wide, man, it’s late. She looked at James, thinking of suggesting him to go straight to bed. She would eat at breakfast tomorrow morning. But as soon as her eyes landed on the boy’s body in front of her, her mouth dried up. James was reaching for the flour on the top shelf, and the visible part of skin under his shirt blocked the words in her throat. He turned and noticing her look slowly moving from his behind to his face, he put on a smug little smile, “Seeing something you like?”

She shook her head just as smugly, “I’d say so.” James’ eyes shone with a new light. The grin never leaving his face.

That joke exchange took place at least once a day in the Herondale-Carstairs house. Normally in the morning, when they were getting ready together to go to work and ended up wasting time in more interesting activities. The presumptuous air on both faces fell as fast as it had appeared.

“How about making your famous crêpes? I haven’t eaten them in a while and I’m josening.” He proposed taking the other ingredients from the fridge. Another yawn took over and Cordelia imagined herself already wrapped in the blankets, warm… “Or maybe not. Do you want to sleep, Daisy?” He asked her by laying the eggs on the table and approaching her, worry imprinted on his face, moving a rebel strand from her face and pinnin it behind her ear.

She melted in his hand, closing her eyes and savoring his touch “Mh-mh. Pas des crêpes pour toi.” she said to him in French, smiling. No crêpes for you.

She heard James laugh, and then his hand was no longer on her cheek, and he was moving around the kitchen again, putting back everything he had needlessly took out.

“Go put your pajamas on, and I’ll be right behind you,” he said with his back towards her and opening a shelf at the bottom. She nodded, dragging her feet on the ground and heading for their bedroom. She didn’t even realize she was going to go into the bathroom to take his make up off.

It had been a really long day and she just wanted to sleep, but she also wanted to talk to James, to know what happened today, to ask him about Christopher and Grace… and maybe mention Lucie and Matthew, see if he knew anything.

Suddenly she felt less tired, like when you go to a sleepover as a child and the only thing that keeps you awake is the desire to know everything, everything, everything.

She slipped under the covers, on James’ side, so that when he came to bed his side would already be warm, and closed her eyes for a second trying to rest in the time she was waiting for him to join her.

She felt a hand touch her cheek, “Daisy?” opening only one eye, she was embarrassed to see that she had fallen asleep. She got up on an elbow, about to apologize, when she saw that James was holding a tray with two steaming cups of hot chocolate on it and a yogurt muffin (rigorously prepackaged). She looked at her boyfriend and the emotion squeezed her throat, he was looking at her with so much love in his eyes. And the smile he was giving her never failed to swell her heart every time.

“Thank you.” she managed to get out despite everything. She wasn’t as emotional as she normally was, but on that day, she was completely exhausted and he must have noticed, because it wasn’t something he did so often. He had done it two or three times when they had just started dating, but then he had stopped and Cordelia had believed that he had finally woken up and realized that she was not worth all that effort. Clearly, she was wrong.

He waved her to move and when she was in her half of the bed, he laid the tray next to her and sat cross-legged, holding his cup up. He blew into it, looking at her from above the rim of the cup and took two long sips. She was still staring at him incredulous.

“I know you’re tired, and you just want to pass out so you don’t ever wake up again, but you didn’t have lunch today, and before the others showed up, you barely pinched a sandwich.” He told her by putting down the cup and passing her the muffin. She accepted it reluctantly. So Ihe had heard her when she came home and ran into the bathroom to take a shower while she screamed that she was starving.

She twisted the muffin in her hands. She gave it a little bite and then a bigger one and then another, until she finished it and her stomach thanked her and took the chocolate, tasting every sip. When they had finished everything, James took the tray and brought it to the kitchen, coming back shortly after with a dazzling smile on his face.

He threw himself on the bed next to her, bouncing and laughing, getting as close as he could and taking her in her arms, kissing her hair and waiting for Cordelia to settle down with an arm around his chest and her head on his shoulder, “So, what did you do today?”

“I don’t want to talk about my job, I want to know about Kit.” she said, leaning her chin on his shoulder and looking him in the eye. He looked at her in turn with an unreadable expression on his face, then sighed, “Okay.”

“A while back, we found her at the gym. She came over to say hi to me, but then I had to go away and she stayed to chat with Kit and one thing must have pulled the other ‘cause four days ago he came to the tavern and told us that they had gone on a date. Three times, if iI gotta be honest.” He said everything out of breath, turned around to see her reaction, thinking he’d find her at least a little annoyed by the fact that he hadn’t told her he’d met Grace, but Cordelia was looking at him like a child watching their favorite cartoon. He raised an eyebrow as a sign of question.

“And then?” she asked him curious.

“And then, what?”

“What did they do, where did they go. Whether he asked her out or she. I want the details James.” she said, giving him a little bump on the chest, then squinting at him and lowering the tone of her voice, “If it bothers you that they’re dating.”

“No, it doesn’t bother me. Grace and I have our history, it’s true, but Kit is really happy and she seems to be too, from what little he told us.” he said without changing his voice, “And anyway, I have you.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “However, I don’t have the details.” he said, stroking her arms. It was amazing how he couldn’t get his hands off her, it was like there was a greater force pushing him and he couldn’t fight it. “You’ll have to wait for Christopher for those. O Lucie. She seemed very inclined to extort every little thing from him.” Cordelia pulled herself up slightly.

Given that the subject was introduced by him, “About Lucie,” she said.

James put his head on the headboard, “What about my sister?”

“Didn’t you see how she and Matthew look at each other?” she asked getting to the point. For a moment, a shadow seemed to pass over James, but it left so quickly that Cordelia thought she had imagined it.

“How do they look at each other?” he asked her without even looking her way. “I don’t know, it seems to me that there might be something between those two. They’re not telling us everything.” she moved away from the hug, staring at the ceiling. James did not answer her immediately. In fact, he didn’t answer her at all and she thought that maybe he was tired too and must have fallen asleep, but when he turned around to check on her boyfriend, he was standing there looking at the wall. A deep frown in his face.

She touched his forearm with her fingertips, and he jumped, as if awakened by a trance, “Everything’s alright?” she asked him worried, “I didn’t mean to imply anything, if it bothers you to talk about your sister and Math we can change the subject, or not talk at all.” Cordelia thought she had gone too far. Maybe she had touched a sore point, something he didn’t want to think about.

James must have sensed that change in her tone, because he turned to her, shaking his head, “No, it’s not that. It’s just that I’m worried. For Matthew.” he sighed. Cordelia waited for him to continue, not wanting to force him to share anything that he didn’t want.

“Sometimes I think he’s really joking when he says all that stuff about love, that he’s gonna be alone forever, but then I find him watching your brother and Tom or Anna and Ari. Or us. And he is… he seems so miserably sad. And maybe Lucie is not the best person he can have beside him.” he turned to look at her and Cordelia was taken aback when he saw his eyes shining with tears. She pulled herself closer to him and now their legs were touching, intertwining. “Not that my sister isn’t a good person, I just don’t think she’s right for him.”

“I don’t think Matthew is serious when he says those things. Not as often as you seem to think at least.” She said, brushing his cheek to calm him down. “And maybe Lucie is exactly what he needs right now.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because lately, Lucie’s been telling me how this whole growing-couple thing in the group is starting to weigh on her. And with Anna finally together with Ariadne…” she left the sentence unfinished. James looked at her, surprised to hear such a thing. “Maybe if they really like each other, they might try to go out sometime, see where this thing takes them.” She proposed, trying to understand how the idea made him feel.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” he replied, carelessly passing a hand through her hair, untying her long locks.

“Of course, I’m always right.” she said proudly, stretching her neck to kiss him. James closed his eyes, breathing in that touch, thinking of all the times when, while he had been with Grace, he had looked at Cordelia from afar, wondering what her hair smelled like or whether he would ever be able to hold her hand in a situation other than those in which she was forced because they had to ‘Ring Around the Rosie’ with Alexander.

“What are you thinking of?” she bit on his lips.

“Back when I was with Grace.” he said. Cordelia immediately detached from that kiss, with an expression between confused, amused and ‘you’re joking right?’. She sat up and crossed her arms.

“Wow.” she said laughing, “And here I thought you were thinking about how much you love me and how beautiful I am.”

“No, Daisy, not like that.” James reached out and grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, “I was thinking about when I struggled to be with you, but I couldn’t do anything because I had to stay with Grace.” he said, moving her so that she lay on his body, interlacing their legs together once more. Now they were chest to chest, and Cordelia felt every point where her body touched his.

“You didn’t have to do anything, James.” she said with muffled voice, looking at him from under her eyelashes with her chin resting against his chest. His hands began to move slowly on her back, drawing circles under her shirt. “That relationship was born only because of the circumstances Grace was in before. It wasn’t true love, as you always say. She didn’t really love you either, it was just childish affection growing with the fact that you were her only friend. That’s it.”

James opened his mouth to reply, but Cordelia’s fingers landed on his lips, “Stop it. I know what you’re thinking, ‘Oh no Daisy but I’ve been so bad, I left her when she needed me the most, I’m a horrible person, boohoo’, no Jamie. You knew it wasn’t right to keep lying to her, and she knew it too.” she concluded, moving her finger to caress the frown formed between his eyebrows. “Among other things, now we are all much happier.”

It was true. They had been together for two years. Two years when he and Grace had been in love, or so hey had believed at least. Grace had stayed isolated from the whole world until she was eighteen years old and had managed to ran away from that house in ruins, but her only friend had remained James and what everyone else would recognize as simple affection for a friend, to her it seemed love. James had agreed to start a relationship out of sheer compassion, as he had only once told his sister, and after a while he had convinced himself that he loved her, too.

But something had changed when the Carstairs had returned to London, he knew it because every time Cordelia was in the room, Grace ceased to exist.

For a while he had managed to ignore all the alarms, but after a few months of falling asleep in bed with his girlfriend, hoping that there was someone else in his arms, he couldn’t make it anymore and had cried in front of Grace, apologizing for the way he had behaved, for lying to her all that time. Grace had hugged him, comforting him, telling him that he had the right to fall in love with whoever he wanted, that it was not something he could avoid, accepting that whatever was between them, it was not love.

The smile on his lips warmed Cordelia’s heart, “You’re right.”

“I told you I was always right.” she smiled at him. James laughed and the movement of his chest made Cordelia slip sideways. He kissed her forehead, keeping his lips to her head, while with one hand he stretched out behind him to turn off the lamp on the bedside table.

When the room was dark, Cordelia drew a heavy sigh of relief and letting herself be lulled by her boyfriend’s arms, she closed her eyes.

And just before Morpheus could kidnap her for the night, she heard James whispering in her neck, “Goodnight Daisy.”

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