#this fucking movie was my childhood and I spent so long trying to remember the name of it

[hyperraduo22]

my long list of random dps headcanons

+ includes spencer and stick !! :))))

• neil only has problems with reading in one eye and still to this day cannot figure out why. he assumes it’s genetic atp

• meeks and pitts do not like excessive gore in movies although pitts is more prone to dislike body horror— they won’t get physically sick from looking at gore they just generally don’t like it and get easily squeamish from it

• pitts likes pink lemonade simply cause it’s pink

• whenever knox gets a fortune whether from a fortune cookie or one of those mechanical tellers, he takes it so seriously for the next two weeks

• meeks and todd are slow eaters

• neil is the pickiest eater out of all the poets although he’s slowly learning to get over it and try new foods. cameron and meeks try to encourage him little by little since they used to be picky as well but got over it

• todd has sensory issues when it comes to texture. if he feels something he doesn’t like for a long period of time, he could possibly get anxious and start crying from it. example: he absolutely hates the feeling of shedded snake skin and will never ever stick his hands in those “guess what you’re touching” boxes at those wilderness exhibits— bro is traumatized from it

• despite popular belief of neil hating roller coasters, i think he has a neutral opinion on them and there’s some he can tolerate and some that he does like. although he’s very picky with roller coasters and there’s some he absolutely refuses to go on even with todd

• cameron actually likes trains a lot and hyperfixates on them (and yes there’s a bittersweet story behind it from his childhood)

• pitts loves anything s’mores flavored

• stick knows how to bake really well and the dps always ask (more like beg atp) to be his personal taste testers cause they know the finished product will be delicious

• meeks cannot eat spicy food for the life of him. he tried cajun food once and he loved it but some of the cheyenne peppers knocked him tf out- like his face was redder than his hair

• knox loves rooftop dining (rich bastard)

• charlie has a personal barber that he always goes to even when he becomes an adult

• todd’s mom is a lesbian (( i wanna post my dps family headcanons so bad cause this deserves context😭 ))

• pitts grew up with a compromised immune system and spent his days inside a lot during late elementary school and a little bit into middle school. since meeks was also pressured to do good academically at such a young age and ended up staying inside more often, the two bonded over that and meeks didn’t mind taking care of pitts when he got sick<3

• charlie and cameron are really good at golf

• cameron prefers taking chewable pills whenever possible since he has trouble swallowing larger pills

• meeks can name the 50 states in alphabetical order off the top of his head

• todd and pitts have that friendship where they always support each other no matter if they both know what they’re doing/saying is dumb and absolutely wrong by all logical standpoints

• pitts is better in biology and anatomy. the only reason why he’s passing chemistry is cause he’s good with remembering chemical reactions and organizing his work during lab projects. otherwise stoichometry fucks him up badly

• todd chews on the ice whenever he has certain cold drinks

• stick crochets in his free time— he even crocheted a blanket for spencer and spencer still uses it to this day :(((

• spencer can get really invested in dramas or sports shows and end up having really dramatic reactions at the things that happen on tv— stick has witnessed this once and bro was dying laughing the entire time. every since then, the duo watch tv together and it feels like a therapeutic bond between the two

• ^speaking of spencer and stick, they’re childhood besties!! they have that bond where even when they separate for long periods of time, they’re able to reunite and catch up/have nothing change between them

• because todd loves bird watching and meeks loves stargazing, they invite each other whenever they’re doing those activities and hype each other up whenever they spot something rare (ie. rare bird species or a rare celestial event) <3

• because stick likes to feed hummingbirds around the campus from time to time, todd sometimes joins him so he can also appreciate the birds

• whenever he reads up that an eclipse is coming up, meeks gets all the poets together on the rooftop to watch it

• pitts actually knows how to play a few songs on piano but hasn’t touched a piano in a very long time

• charlie learned to play clarinet in a orchestra/symphony that played for the town and raised money for local charities—that’s right. he’s so rich that his parents didn’t enroll him in private lessons but rather a more professional band class with other kids. he originally wanted to try out the oboe just cause (he also secretly loved the oboe solo in that one tchaikovsky piece) but his parents obviously made him do clarinet instead. he would later teach himself saxophone

• charlie has an immunity to ibuprofen and some other over the counter drugs (don’t ask why. he’s probs the type of person that gets headaches or body aches easily- whether self induced or not- and took so much ibuprofen over the course of a month that it doesn’t work anymore)

• cameron has sensitive teeth and gets toothaches easily from cold foods like ice cream. therefore, he’s careful with his portions when eating certain desserts, takes smaller sips when drinking water at restaurants (or he just asks to have no ice in his drinks), and he prefers drinking room temperature water

• stick is scared of butterflies- like i’m talking bro has a full on phobia of them cause of some traumatic childhood incident- but still thinks they’re really beautiful :(((

• ^because of this- when walking outside, spencer will make sure there aren’t butterflies nearby for stick. he’ll either swat them away or gently pick them up and make them fly away elsewhere like the true best friend he is🫡

• no matter the circumstance, spencer just does not give two fucks about true crime whatsoever. you can make him watch a true crime doc and he’ll either get bored or be like “really? that’s all the killer can do?” “…couldn’t they like- i don’t know- not enter a complete stranger’s home??” “i could’ve beaten up that guy you know.”

• knox and spencer have a brotherly relationship and have known each other since middle school. knox would invite spencer to tag along with him and charlie, obviously tease him in the middle of class, and he’d ask for help on school work. plus knox and charlie have stood up for him on multiple occasions and help raise his confidence in social situations

• stick has hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) episodes from time to time. sometimes they sync up with spencer’s random nosebleeds and they both sit in the nurse’s office together.

—————

okay now i wanna post dps family headcanons and stick and spencer headcanons now🏃‍♂️🗣️

let me and todd’s lesbian mom cook

[darkboysroadtrip]

I haven't had questions so I'm gonna use a random question generator

What's your favorite childhood story? (For everyone) -bubble

[I hope you're ready to read, it gets long.]

They're waiting for the cops [🤮] to show up when this comes in; everyone stiffens except Patton.

"I guess I'll go first" Patton says, "I feel like everyone might have more trouble thinking of something..."

"I have something too" Dee says.

"What ages count as childhood?" Virgil asks.

"I would think until thirteen? That's technically a teen" Patton points out.

"True but you're still a child until you're an adult" Logan says.

"For simplicity's sake let's stick with thirteen okay?" Virgil asks the group, they all agree.

"Okay!" Patton starts, "I have a lot of good memories of my childhood it was very fun, my parents even though divorced are still really great parents!"

"No need to rub it in" Virgil smirks.

The playful snark goes right over Patton's head, "oh no!" he shakes his hands around, "I wasn't trying to do that!"

"I'm fucking with you" Virgil responds and Patton visibly sags with relief.

"Oh yoooou" he wags his finger, "you you got me there!"

"Continue your story Pat" Virgil smiles, "I won't do it again."

"Okay! So it might not be super fantastic or anything but one of my favorite memories is actually when I was visiting with my dad for one of his weeks, and my step mom went into labor, I was maybe eleven at the time and it was laaaaate out so me, all burry eyes and half asleep was packed into the car with everything.

"I remember sitting in the front seat trying to figure out why my step mom wasn't and when I looked at her in the back seat she was taking up most of it and even through her hard breathing she smiled at me, I turned back around and just watched the lights blur past us.

"The hospital was quite calm when we got there, and since I couldn't be in the delivery room my dad sat out with me, we got snacks from the vending machines and I got to meet my new baby brother hours later, my mom did come pick me up though when morning came and we got breakfast."

"That was really sweet Patton" Dee says.

"You know me, big ol puff ball" he pokes his own cheek, "oh! Also when I was six my big sister took me to see a movie and we accidentally started a itty bitty, teensy tiny fire that came from a popcorn fight."

The group stare at him.

He smiles back at them.

"Nice!" Remus says, he holds up a hand for a high five - Patton enthusiastically smacks his hand.

"I suppose I'll go next if no one has anything to say at the moment?" Dee asks.

"Go ahead, I'm not sure I have much of anything, I'll go last." Virgil says.

Everyone else is pretty much on the same page.

"Alright, as everyone is probably expecting my favorite memories were always with my mother, and always when we weren't with or around my father.

"There isn't one moment I can choose from those memories to be a favorite, so I'll just say one.

"It was one of the many times we went camping, my mother as you all know was a very outdoorsy person, I haven't said before that she was a park ranger as well - she knew how to survive in the wilderness with basically nothing and she taught me as much as she was able before she was... before she died.

"Anyway, we were camping out in the deep part of the forest she ranged, she was obviously not working, but she loved being in the forest so much that her vacations were also spent there, and it was much better than staying at home with my father who did not like camping, any guesses as to why we went a lot" he chuckles humorlessly before continuing.

"This part of the forest was near somewhere my mother wanted to hike, it wasn't a trail many people went on, barely even knew about so we didn't come by any people, there was however a lot of wildlife, we stopped to watch when possible, everything was so beautiful and calm.

"It took a long time to get to where we were hiking mainly because we stopped a lot, but each moment was fun, even when I fell and hurt my knees and palms.

"Our destination was at a waterfall, it wasn't huge and grand but it was gorgeous and magnificent in its own regards, it flowed into a lake that was clear enough to see the bottom and that lake flowed into a small river.

"We had a picnic there, we went swimming, we waded through the little river to see small creatures and we found a cave behind that shimmering waterfall.

"It was all very magical for an eleven year old, and also the last trip we went on."

"Aw, I might cry" Patton says.

"Please don't" Dee replies.

Patton sniffles, "okay" he nods.

"Who's next?" Dee looks at everyone.

"I suppose I am" Logan says, "I don't have much to tell however, my childhood was mostly at the orphanage, I didn't get along with the other children or any families or couples that came by, but I did have one friend, she wasn't there for long but it was nice while she was.

"As I have said before, I mainly liked to stay indoors to read and learn anything I was able to get my little hands on, until Clem came -short for Clementine- she was rambunctious and wild, always had a smile on and liked to say she was a witch, maybe she was.

"For some reason she took a liking to me, she also liked to learn things I guess that may have been it but she would drag me outside to teach me things I couldn't be taught in books. Those were my happiest childhood memories."

"Okay I already knew this but it is so tragic every time I hear it" Roman says, "you were such a sad little child!"

Logan looks at Roman, "I didn't say I had a sad childhood, I just said I didn't have much else to say about it."

"Uh yeah" Roman starts, he gesticulates his arms around, "ergo: sad childhood."

"I don't know where you got that from."

Roman makes a face of disbelief, "from everything you say about it?"

"I never say I'm sad in any of those stories though."

Roman pauses, "I... suppose you don't, huh alright then, shall I continue this story train?"

"Go right on ahead" Logan replies.

"I think Remus and I might have the same answer?" He looks over to Remus questioning.

"Well if it's the Abigail Thing then not even close bro!"

Everyone is silent, they're looking at Remus and they're not sure how to respond.

"Jeeze!" Remus says flapping his hand in dismissal, "you'd think none of ya have ever heard about coping with trauma with jokes before!"

"I'm... I'm just going to say my story" Roman says.

"Ahh figures" Remus mumbles.

"As I was saying, mine would have to be when Mom and Dad left us alone with the nanny for the weekend, and she was mostly preoccupied with Abigail, her being like two to our five, because sure five year olds don't need any supervision! But I digress!

"Remus and I were outside -as we tended to like to be- when we saw a mangy mutt walking around our property, now we had fences and gates so this huge mongrel wouldn't be able to get in - without our help that is."

"Oh, no you're right this is my favorite too" Remus interjects, "we both fell in love with this huge slobbery beast, and we needed it to be ours!"

"Precisely!" Roman agrees, "so while Remus kept the dog occupied with whatever snacks we had with us I went in to find the remote for the gates!"

"Oh man that dog was hungry!" Remus laughs, "I remember luring it to the gate with bits of snacks, while you were inside, my whole arm was covered in slobber!"

"Your whole you was covered in slobber" Roman says.

"Haha, yeeeeeah. But! We did get him in and closed the gate so he couldn't leave, then we snuck him into the guest house so he could have his own place."

"Our parents didn't find out about him for weeks" Roman says.

"Weeks!" Remus repeats, "we fed him all kinds of stuff, that guest house was a mess! We barely cleaned up after him, we'd let him out a lot though, our parents were barely home any way."

"What happened to him?" Patton asks.

"Oh, uh... I'm not entirely sure" Roman admits.

"I just remember us crying a lot when they said that we couldn't keep him" Remus says, "they didn't tell us what they did with him."

"I hope he was alright" Patton says.

"Me too" Roman agrees, "but it's Virgil's turn! You got anything yet buddy?"

Virgil's face scrunches around, "I guess? Man, I had a very rigid childhood, my parents laid out all of my days and scheduled my whole life. We were very well off, almost as rich as the disaster twins over there" he chuckles, "and my parents tried to always be above everyone else so they were very hard on me being 'thier perfect little princess'" he scoffs.

"I didn't get to do anything I wanted until boarding school and I was twelve when that happened so... That may just be it, getting out of that oppressive house."

"Oh wait" he says before the silence can dig into everyone, "there was this one time, I met my aunt at a funeral for some relative I've never even heard about - she was cool and because she was cool my mother never wanted me to be around her again.

"I didn't even know she existed until that moment, apparently she's a little estranged from the family for her 'wild and carefree nature' or something, but despite being at a funeral that was the first time I was able to be myself and actually have a good time considering my parents were too busy to focus on much else than gaining social points."

"Okay, now that" Roman says, "was sad, and no one can tell me otherwise."

Virgil shrugs, "you're right."

Right in perfect timing of everyone telling their little tales, several cars park around the property.

The authorities are here.

[olderthannetfic]

I mean i can try-- god knows I've wondered which fucking wires crossed in my brain many many times myself-- but i can't promise I'll come to anh interesting conclusions.

I honestly think I had some kind of predisposition to like vore because i can't remember a time where I started liking it, only realizing that I did, long long LONG before i had any concept of what that meant. For me, personally, the vore part is a big part but it all very much falls under the endosoma umbrella-- the general fascination with the inside of the body, and implied fascination with being inside the body of someone else.

I kinda think that stems at least to some degree from my craving for physical affection? Big big big on physical touch, me; and my mother joked that when I was a toddler I would burrow into a hug as if I were trying to crawl inside the person holding me. It tracks.

So I was all of 5 or whatever and already deeply clingy and showing the beginning signs of an anxiety disorder. And then I got to see the magic school bus for lunch fir the first time and Huh why are fireworks going off behind my eyes

Istg I watched that movie so much as I kid it was absurd. I couldn't explain why it stuck to me so much, I didn't have the vocabulary or the comprehension, I was just Fascinated. I would dream of different scenarios that could have changed the direction the movie went, I dove face first into researching the human digestive system because maybe that's what I was so curious about and i was homeschooled so it was as simple as asking my mom what they were talking about. My sister, rwo years younger than me, had started a 'game' around that time that was essentially stories around the campfire where one of us would come up with an idea and the other would continue it and we'd tell stories that way-- and we had I think three of those that were various characters from our favorite movies eating each other. We still didn't know what we were doing, of course; it was just hilarious to us. Very 'throw blorbo in a situation' behavior, especially because neither of us had any interest in the fatal aspect-- i can't really speak for her, but for me, it was always about being inside another person. Being cradled. Being contained. Being protected.

The budding anxiety disorder definitely had an effect, and only got stronger as ~shit happened~ and a budding anxiety disorder blossomed into c-ptsd 🙃 I spent most of my childhood feeling utterly and completely unsafe, insecure in the most fundamental ways. And the idea of being eaten and held and hidden appealed r e a l l y powerfully.

An interesting angle to pin on this is I'm some level of demisexual-- and vore wasn't a very kinky kink for me for a long long time. It's much more so now, now that I'm older and a bit more in touch with my own brand of sensuality/sexuality, but I would have considered it a platonic-to-sex-neutral kink by name only from about the time of the epiphany to around... eh. 20ish? Maybe as late as 21, 22 even. And even now it is Still much more about the feeling of protection, of safety, of being wanted and held and cradled and intimately known that appeals the most to me. If i want to get off to it I look up object vore fics and videos of people swallowing real-ass things, vasefillers and marbles and cameras, because I still very much have an Endosoma Thing and a fierce oral fixation. But Vore vore? That's mostly a self comforting thing. Not always. I can definitely be turned on by a good vore fic and I am frequently turned on by good vore videos because the visual of internals is Big for me, but its usually a sexless thing? Usually. There are exceptions.

If it's a character I'm already attracted to that's it I'm a goner and I would like them to hurry the fuck up and eat me already. I'm very strongly 'prey-oriented' and would much prefer to Be Eaten than to Eat-- but I could go either way, depending. I'll run into a bit of art of a character inside a cup of boba (totally not referencing something that happened the other day aha) that the artist clearly meant innocently and lose my shit on discord to the fistful of friends who know the intricacies of my crossed wires fjdjdkdk the vore fixation and the oral fixation absolutely 100% bounce off each other and make each other worse, I can tell you that much.

Does any of that answer your questions, fellow anon?

(I wish I could send asks from the sideblog, I genuinely wouldn't mind attaching at least that name to this in the name of research and answering questions-- it's science if you write it down, no? But my main is mostly sfw, alas.)

--

[airasora]

I seem to remember a swan emblem over Odette's crib and while I may be wrong, the curtain pulls in the beauty pageant DEFINITELY also had swans on them 🤔

And also tbh I love the idea of Rothbart choosing a swan because it's something Odette loved or was connected to. Maybe he just saw it on her locket while he was Doing His Spying, he certainly realized it was too important to leave out of the copy-Odette (I know why she's a swan in the original story, but that's very long)

If we want it to make any sort of sense, Odette wore the dress and allowed Uberta's hairdo as a fuck you to Rothbart -she liked swans and he's not gonna take that from her (it's admittedly a pretty dress, too).

As for Derek running the ball, I always got the impression he was trying to turn whatever his mother had planned (and he definitely suspected something, she's done it before, since he says ANOTHER ONE of your beauty pageants lol) into his wedding, hence his asking where Bromley is because he needs a best man. Or at least a proposal. If he was gonna make such an important vow at least the place could look nicer xD

I LOVED THE TUBA THING LMAO Rogers is the best -also if you notice, he looks supremely annoyed at the "rubato" thing, probably because he knows what he's talking about.

Yes, it's Chamburg or Chamberg.

I thought my life was a lie irt the swans but I went back and I know why I got mixed up! In the dub I watched as a kid Puffin says "su alteza" which means his or her highness but is gender neutral without added context so I always assumed he meant Odette. It would have been a wink to the fact that in the original story, there were a bunch other swan girls in that lake. Shame it's just Derek again pffff

(Also small aside, came to mind because of the beauty pageant: I was OBSESSED with the level of sparkle they put in the purple wigged girl's dresses and spent my entire childhood looking for a princess dress that had that much. I was extremely disappointed 🤣)

Btw, forgot to say I'd absolutely love an Odette Wedding Dress post! It would be so cool

Sorry, but I see no swan emblem above her crib nor do I see any swans during the beauty pageant. You're going to have to show me a screenshot yourself cause I've watched and paused at this movie three times now, and I don't see more swans than the ones I mentioned in the first post and now I'm annoyed I can't find any xD

[starlight-phantom]

How long have you liked sonic? I never really played any of the games but I’ve seen some of the anime, old cartoon and the movies

I've liked Sonic ever since I was four. Sonic The Hedgehog on the Mega Drive was actually the first game I ever played. That's honestly one of my weirdly vivid memories: walking into the living room and seeing my mum playing it and being completely enchanted by the cute animal and the bright colours so I just sat down next to her and watched her play until she asked me if I wanted to try.

And then after that, every time my mum saw something Sonic related in the shops, she had to get it for me, I was obsessed. Like every kid has that one thing that shapes their personality, like Disney or Pokémon or Yu-Gi-Oh or whatever... Mine was Sonic. Like, I watched Sonic Underground and Sonic X (and since you mentioned seeing some of it, I would definitely recommend watching the anime in sub because the dub cut out so much stuff, it's insane) on TV whenever they aired, Sonic Adventure 2 Battle was my first game that was just mine and not shared by the family plus my sister and I spent so much time raising our chao together it was like our thing we did to spend time together, I had a Knuckles plushie I found in an charity shop and I adored him but unfortunately he got lost when we moved, I'd buy any of the comics I happened to find in secondhand shops, and I can remember one birthday my mum made some biscuits in the shape of Tails' tails and I LOVED them.

Ngl, Sonic Adventure 2 Battle is that one thing that I think "If I didn't play that growing up, who would I be now?" Because it honestly shaped so much of who I am today, I'm sure you have something like from your childhood too, it's crazy to think about, right?

I didn't mean to go on for so long over such a simple question but yeah, I love this series. I did go off it when I was a teenager because 1) the games in that era just weren't all that good for certain reasons (the writing) and 2) You got bullied for liking stuff like Sonic at that age. But now I'm in my early twenties, and honestly I think being stuck in lockdown helped, I went back and realised "actually fuck you I love this series and these characters" and it's fantastic. Like I got excited when it was revealed that Sonic Frontiers' release date was my birthday; if that had happened when I was little, I would have gone insane. So yeah, I would recommend going back to anything you left behind due to highschool bullying because you might actually still adore it.

So uh, yeah, liked it since I was four, it's a fun series 👍

[storytimewithnova]

EUPHORIA IMPROVED

Everyone was gathered for a sleepover at Sho and Noya's house, and they were excited to watch a movie. Kita grabbed a random DVD, unaware of its contents, and they all settled down to watch it.

But before we jump into the story, let me take you back to where it all began for Sho. You see, Sho's life wasn't always sunshine and rainbows. There was a facade of happiness that concealed the struggles and challenges that Sho faced. Let's dive into Sho's backstory.

Sho: "You did this to me!" Sho exclaimed, filled with frustration.

Narrator Sho: Hold on, let's not skip ahead just yet. Allow me to paint a picture of my journey, one that might change your perception of me, for better or worse. You may have thought I was all smiles and happiness, but the truth is far from that. So, let's begin.

Sho: I was born just three days after the tragic events of 9/11.

Narrator Sho: I know what you're thinking. How could a Japanese family witness 9/11 on the news? Well, here's the twist: I wasn't born in Japan but in Washington, D.C., the very place where 9/11 unfolded. Talk about irony.

As the movie played in the background, Sho continued sharing their story.

Sho: My parents spent two days in the hospital with me, gazing at the television screen, watching the towers fall repeatedly. The grief eventually turned into numbness.

Narrator Sho: But why am I telling you this? You see, my family used to be just like any other happy, normal family. I was a content child. But life has a way of changing people, and that includes me. Watch closely.

Sho: And then, without warning, my middle-class childhood in an American suburb...

Child Sho: 13, 14, 15, 16...

Mrs. Hinata: Sho, what are you looking at?

Child Sho: 1, 2, 3...

Mrs. Hinata: What are you doing, Sho?

Child Sho: *cries*

Narrator Sho: That's when my life started spiraling downward. My parents took me to countless doctors, searching for answers. They tried to understand what was going on inside my head.

One particular doctor had a long list of possible diagnoses for me.

Bitch Doctor: I believe she is suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder, attention deficit disorder, general anxiety disorder, and possibly even bipolar disorder, though she's a little young to be certain.

Narrator Sho: This doctor seemed determined to label me with every condition under the sun. It got to the point where my father couldn't cope with someone like me, and he left our family, leaving my mother with two kids and a mountain of debt. Truly, the father of the year.

As the others listened to Sho's story, they were shocked. Their image of Sho, the bright and cheerful individual, was shattered.

Sho: So, can someone explain all of this to me?

Mrs. Hinata: Honey, it's just the way your brain is wired. Many great, funny, intelligent, interesting, and creative people have struggled with similar challenges.

Narrator Sho: Really, Mom? Are you trying to sugarcoat it? I would've preferred if you were just honest and said that I'm "mental" or that I'm the reason for your divorce. But fine, let's play along with the sugarcoating.

Sho: Like who?

Mrs. Hinata: Well, there's Vincent van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, and even your Britney Spears

Narrator Sho: As the years went by, there are moments that I don't remember clearly, like a blur between the ages of 8 and 12. The world seemed to move too fast for my liking, while I moved slow. Sometimes, if I focused too closely on my breathing, it felt like I was on the brink of suffocation.

Suddenly, Sho collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. When she regained consciousness, she found herself surrounded by concerned friends and family, breathing into a bag.

Sho: "I'm taught every second of every day, constantly trying to outrun my anxiety," she explained.

Mrs. Hinata: Worriedly, she asked, "What's wrong, sweetie?"

Narrator Sho: "To be honest, I'm just fucking exhausted," Sho replied, her exhaustion evident in her voice.

In the present, Sho was shown taking tablets from her bedside table. She spent time with her father, seeking solace and understanding.

Sho: Curiously, she asked, "What do these pills feel like?"

Mr. Hinata: With a heavy sigh, he replied, "The absolute worst."

Narrator Sho: I used to take care of my dad after school. But that changed when he passed away. So, I guess you're watching a flashback. My mom agreed to take a second job to cover the bills, and we had a state-issued nurse who came to help for a couple of hours. Though, if you consider playing Candy Crush on her phone as helping, then she did a fantastic job. But here's the thing, it was during that time that my dad had a bunch of pills, and that's when my troubles began. Have you caught on yet?

The scene shifted to Sho taking a pill from one of the bottles and putting it in her mouth. It showed her at home, repeatedly taking pills. The scene then transitioned to Sho engaging in reckless behavior, such as using drugs, partying, drinking, and smoking. Finally, it cut to Noya going to Sho's room and hearing her struggling.

Noya: "Sho, Sho!" Noya called out, alarmed.

Noya opened the door and found Sho unconscious on the floor. Overwhelmed with concern, he started crying, unsure of what to do.

(To be continued)Narrator Sho: My baby brother found me, exposing the real me to those who didn't know the facade of sunshine and rainbows. Instead, they saw a broken person, lying in a hospital, crying her eyes out.

Sho: I spent a good portion of the summer before my second year of high school in rehab.

Narrator Sho: Listen to these assholes preaching to God. Let's be fucking honest, are any of us really going to stay clean? We're just here to appease our parents, gain some brownie points, and get back in their good graces. Do we have any intentions of staying clean? Probably not. Me? Most definitely not. I'm too far gone. But let's play the role of the good girl who has changed her ways. Upside down, I'm out of that bible-bashing hellhole.

Noya: Sho!

Sho: Noya, come here.

Noya: Hey.

Sho: Hi, how are you?

Noya: Good.

Sho: I missed you.

Noya: Missed you too, sis.

Sho: Shit, are you growing?

Noya: No.

Their mom stood and watched them, observing the connection between the siblings.

Sho: Hey.

Narrator Sho: Staging an intervention seemed like a brilliant idea for everyone involved, except for me. As they confronted me, I hurriedly searched for something in my bathroom. Frustrated by not finding it, I exited the bathroom and froze on the stairs, realizing that everyone was waiting for me.

Sho: Oh, fuck. I'm never fucking ready for this.

Mrs. Hinata: We just want to make you feel good, Sho. Living like this, lying to the people you love, being mean to the people you love... It can't make you feel good about yourself.

Sho: I don't care. Just fucking leave me alone, please.

Mrs. Hinata: I know you're in pain.

Sho: You have no fucking idea, Mom.

Mrs. Hinata: Let's get back into the car and let me take you to the hospital.

Sho: I can't get clean, Mom. I can't do that shit.

Narrator Sho: As you can see, they thought it was a fucking excellent idea to stage an intervention, hoping I would listen. Clearly, I felt I had more pressing matters at hand. And seriously, did they really think a drug intervention was the right move, Kenma?

Kenma: You don't have to do it all at once, just take it one day at a time.

Everyone agrees, showing their support.

Sho: Hey, Ken, I have a quick question for you.

Kenma: What?

Sho: Are you fucking Kuroo Tetsuro?

Kenma: (laughs) What are you talking about?

Sho: How long have you been fucking Kuroo?

Kenma: I'm not, I'm not.

Oikawa: What are you talking about?

Sho: Oh, I just... I saw him getting into his truck and then they kissed in the truck and drove off. That was like, what, a month ago?

Kenma: Ah...

Oikawa: Are you kidding me?

Atsumi: Ken, that's really bad.

Oikawa: You're fucking Kuroo, are you kidding me?

Kenma: No, I'm... (laughs) I don't even know why she would say that.

Oikawa: You're lying.

Kawa's mom: Can we just table this conversation?

Oikawa: No! You expect me to stand here next to my best friend, who's been lying to me about fucking my ex-boyfriend? I am literally going to get violent.

Kawa's mom: There's no need to get violent. We are having an intervention here.

Narrator Sho: Clearly, I stuck my foot in it again. I revealed Kenma's dirty little secret. I'm sorry, best friend, but I'm not going to hide for you. And clearly, I also know you're in the wrong. Yes, I'm an addict, but I'm not a whore. Let's get our priorities straight here. And you know, we've always had this deal never to fuck our best friends' boyfriends or ex-boyfriends, as the case may be.

Mrs. Hinata: Will you two stop it, please? I'm begging you. Let's just get into the car.

Sho: I can't.

Kenma: Let's just talk.

Oikawa: Oh, you're crying. You're fucking crying.

Kawa's mom: Tori...

Oikawa continued her rant, unable to control her anger.

Oikawa: You're not the one that's fucking hurt. You're the most self-centered, idiotic person I’ve ever Fucking met You fucked my ex-boyfriend And you’re fucking crying are you fucking kidding me right now

Narrator Sho: The situation in the room escalated quickly, with everyone talking over each other. Atsumi tried to intervene, suggesting that they deal with it later, but Mrs. Hinata had had enough.

Mrs. Hinata: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I don't give a shit about who's fucking who. If you're going to keep talking about it, you can just get out of this room.

Kawa's mom: Absolutely! You're all behaving like animals.

Amidst the chaos, Kenma defended himself, questioning why they would believe Sho, who was a drug addict. Oikawa, consumed by anger and hurt, demanded the truth from Kenma.

Oikawa: How long have you been fucking him? Please be honest!

Atsumi: Kawa, we can do this later.

Oikawa: Atsu, shut the fuck up! How long have you been fucking him, Sho?

Narrator Sho: Here I was, hoping I could become invisible. No, scratch that. I really wished I hadn't said anything. Now that the stupid intervention was over, I retreated back to my room. Fucking hell, why did I always get caught up in these situations? This is what Tori is like.

Mrs. Hinata tried to calm the situation, urging Sho to listen and suggesting they get into the car. Oikawa couldn't let it go, pressing for more details.

Oikawa: When was this?

Sho: Right after New Year's.

Oikawa: You dumb fucking bitch! I'm gonna fuck you up!

Kawa's mom: No!

Oikawa: Don't run away from me, you stupid whore!

Narrator Sho: The fight continued, and I decided it was best to leave while I had the chance. So, I made a quick decision. After that shitshow, I had a couple of options. I could go to Suna and score some drugs, or I could go to Semi. I chose Semi.

Narrator Sho: I had just returned home, and it was around 4-5 am. I expected everyone to be asleep, especially my mom. Truth be told, I was hoping to avoid the third-degree questioning, but luck wasn't on my side.

Mrs. Hinata: Where have you been?

Sho: I'm sorry, my phone died.

Mrs. Hinata: Bullshit! You're doing drugs!

Narrator Sho: Oh my God, this woman is insufferable. She just assumes everything. What does she want me to tell her? "Oh, sorry, Mom, I'm with my potential girlfriend. Can you kindly get off my fucking case?"

Sho: I'm not doing drugs.

Mrs. Hinata: Then where have you been? Why weren't you answering your phone? And why are you sneaking into the house at five in the morning?

Narrator Sho: Oh my God, can she let it go? Does she really want me to come out and say, "Hi, Mom, I am potentially bisexual. I could be a lesbian. I'm still trying to work that out, you know? I'll get back to you."

Sho: I was with someone.

Mrs. Hinata: Who?

Sho: It doesn't matter, Mom.

Mrs. Hinata: Oh, it matters, Sho. It matters. You're doing drugs, Noya, go back to sleep.

Noya: Sis, are you okay?

Sho: Yeah, Nishi, you can go back to sleep.

Mrs. Hinata: She's okay, baby. Go back to bed. Good night. I will not allow you to walk up into this house at 5:30 in the morning and lie to my face. So tell me the truth right now. Where were you?

Sho: Mom, I don't want to tell you everything that's going on in my life. If you want to drug test me, just drug test me.

Mrs. Hinata does just that, and it comes back negative.

Narrator Sho: Let's be real, she wasn't the only person upset with me.

[Scene changes to Sho and Semi lying together]

Semi: I'm not kidding, Sho. I'm not going to become best friends with someone who's trying to kill themselves.

Sho: I know.

Semi: I have enough traumatic shit going on in my life that I can't handle.

Sho: I get it.

Semi: I don't want to be around if you don't stop using drugs.

Sho: Okay.

Semi: I mean it, Shoyo.

Sho: I know. I'll stop. I'll get any help I need. I promise. I just need you to give me a chance.

Mrs. Hinata: You're still grounded until... I don't even fucking know what else.

Sho: I told you I wasn't lying.

Narrator Sho: So, I decided to stay clean. I have been for a while. I wasn't going to break my promise. I wanted to stay with Eita. You see, the first time I met her, I fell head over heels. When she heard that I kept my promise, this happened.

[Scene changes to the school hallway]

Narrator Sho: It was the first day of school after New Year, and I finally had everything I ever wished for. I ran straight to Semi and kissed her.

Sho: You know, you're like a dream.

Semi: [laughs] I didn't know you were such a romantic, Sho.

Narrator Sho: We kissed again. That's how I got my girlfriend. I stayed sober for her, not just because I wanted to. God knows how many times I've been tempted to run to Suna, but I know he has cut me off.

Narrator Sho: And so, as I look back on my journey, I realize that the ending of this story is not an ending at all, but a beginning. A beginning filled with hope, strength, and a newfound sense of purpose.

I continue to inspire and help others on their own paths to recovery, sharing my story and offering guidance. The love and support that I received from Semi and my support system have taught me the importance of compassion and empathy. I have become a beacon of light for those who are lost in the darkness of addiction, showing them that recovery is possible.

But my journey doesn't end there. With Semi by my side, we embark on new adventures, embracing life to the fullest. We travel the world, experiencing its wonders and sharing our love and resilience with others. We find joy in simple moments, cherishing the beauty of each day.

Together, we create a legacy of love, compassion, and perseverance. We touch the lives of many, leaving a lasting impact on those who cross our paths. And through it all, we never forget the battles we have fought and the strength we have gained.

As time goes on, I continue to stay sober, not just for myself, but for the love and happiness that surrounds me. I cherish every moment, knowing that I have overcome the darkness and emerged stronger than ever.

And as the years pass, I see the ripple effect of my journey. I witness the lives I have touched, the lives that have been transformed because of the hope and inspiration I have shared. It fills my heart with immense joy and gratitude.

In the end, this story is not just about me. It's about the power of love, resilience, and the belief in the human spirit. It's about the strength we find within ourselves and the support we receive from those who love us.

So, as the sun sets on another beautiful day, I am filled with a profound sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the love of Semi, the unwavering support of my friends and family, and the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of others.

And I know that as long as I stay true to my journey, keep sharing my story, and continue to spread love, the ending of this story will forever be a source of inspiration and hope for those who need it most.

For addiction may have once consumed my life, but love and resilience have become my guiding stars, leading me towards a future filled with endless possibilities. And with Semi's hand in mine, I am ready to embrace whatever comes next, knowing that together, we can conquer anything.

Narrator Sho: As the video cuts out, everyone in the room looks at me. Some were crying, others were unsure of how to react. But one person, Semi, walks up to me and embraces me in a hug. She looks into my eyes, her own filled with a mixture of relief, love, and understanding.

Semi: Sho, I'm so proud of you. You have no idea how much this means to me. I've seen the struggle you've been going through, and I've been scared for you. But seeing your determination to stay sober, it fills my heart with hope and happiness.

I couldn't help but smile through my tears, feeling the warmth of Semi's embrace. She understood the battles I faced, and she stood by my side, offering her unwavering support.

Sho: Semi, you've been my rock through all of this. Your love and faith in me have given me the strength to keep fighting. I stayed sober not just for myself, but for us, for our future together.

Semi leans in and kisses me, a tender and passionate kiss that speaks volumes of her love and commitment.

Semi: Sho, I believe in you. And I promise to be here every step of the way, supporting you and encouraging you. We'll face any challenges together, and we'll make sure that your journey to sobriety is a successful one.

As the room starts to settle down, others begin to understand the significance of what just transpired. Some approach us, offering words of encouragement and support, while others simply nod in acknowledgment. It's a powerful moment of unity and understanding.

Narrator Sho: From that day forward, I knew I had a strong support system in Semi and the others around me. They became my pillars of strength, helping me navigate through the ups and downs of my journey to sobriety.

It wasn't always easy, and there were moments of doubt and temptation along the way. But every time I felt weak, I remembered the love and trust that Semi had shown me. She believed in me when I struggled to believe in myself.

Together, we faced the challenges head-on, seeking professional help and finding healthy coping mechanisms. And slowly but surely, my life began to change for the better.

The path to recovery wasn't linear, and there were setbacks and hurdles to overcome. But with the love and support of Semi and my newfound support system, I learned to pick myself up and keep moving forward.

Narrator Sho: Years have passed since that day, and I can proudly say that I have remained sober. It hasn't been easy, but the journey has been worth it. I am now a mentor to others who are battling their own addictions, using my experience and story to inspire and guide them.

And through it all, Semi has been my constant source of love and support. She stood by me when things got tough, and she celebrated my victories with me. We have built a strong and resilient relationship, one that is founded on trust, understanding, and unconditional love.

As I reflect on my journey, I am grateful for every person who believed in me, even when I struggled to believe in myself. And I am especially grateful for Semi, who saw the potential in me and helped me become the person I am today.

Narrator Sho: The promise I made to myself that night, to stay clean and live a fulfilling life, has become my reality. And I owe it all to the unwavering support and love of those around me.

And as I continue on this journey of recovery and self-discovery, I am reminded of the power of love and the strength that lies within us all. No matter how dark the road may seem, there is always hope for a brighter tomorrow.

[whoevers-listening]

I feel something! - It's Anger

DISCLAIMER

heavy content

I'm uncertain of where to start…the timeline isn’t linear and so pinpointing the beginning is impossible. I guess starting with the present is as good as any other point in the timeline. It’s easiest to start there, everything surfaces best there…sometimes.

I’m in a support group…Monday through Friday for two hours a day, eight weeks straight. Week five. The group is the first major help I’ve received…at least one that I am retaining anything covered. I know I’ve spoken to counselors, psychiatrists and the like before…but I have little to no memory of such times. This is a common occurrence for me…my memory isn’t selective…it’s unpredictable. I can remember distinct moments of trauma and word for word dialogue from movies I watched as a kid but there are lengthy blocks of time in my life that I can’t recollect. A couple of months to a couple of years at a time, I have no memory of. There are even people who claim to have known me quite well that I do not remember or even recognize at all.

I knew this would happen…derailing what I wanted to discuss to something that just comes up organically by writing. I guess it loops to today though. In group this morning, we discussed grief and loss. Two concepts that I thought I knew but turns out were so much deeper than I thought. I always equated loss to the loss of a person and grief to the pain felt in their absence. Yet today, I learned there is so much more you can lose than a person and grief isn’t just a feeling of loss. You can lose what never was, you can lose what never will be, you can lose yourself, your health, your beliefs, everything. Grief is the process navigated after loss. Grief is sadness, denial, ignorance, avoidance, fear and anger. Anger is the big one for me right now. That’s the one that caught me off guard. My walls went up quickly as we began the discussion and I was angry, defensive and unwilling to listen. It was when the facilitator had mentioned anger as a normal reaction; one that shouldn’t be ignored, that I softened. It felt for a moment like what I was feeling was okay. I fight against my anger…I contain it and ignore it and allow it to slip out without intention. I swear out loud when I miss my mug and pour milk on the counter in the morning. I yell at my dog to go away when she just wants to be near me and I lose my temper when my pants stick to my damp legs after getting out of the shower. I never thought of myself as an angry person…I never wanted to be an angry person. In fact, I was so determined not to be that I wouldn’t allow myself to express my anger at all. Now I have little control over how and when it comes out. Grief and loss are big factors to this.

Anger is a secondary emotion…it comes from somewhere. In my case, my anger comes from hurt. Hurt caused by abandonment, neglect, abuse, and the feeling I’ve had for as long as I can remember that I don’t belong…I was a mistake. A mistake made by my parents and a mistake made by whatever higher power there may be…something or someone, somewhere, fucked up. I’m not a miracle, as some would believe that all life is a miracle, I’m a glitch. Something that slipped through the cracks of what was meant to be.

It’s a deep seeded belief…one I’m told I need to reframe and work through but I’m not ready for that, don’t know that I ever will be ready. I tried to fight it; in childhood I wanted so badly to be liked and loved and craved belonging. I excelled in school not because that’s what anyone expected of me but because I wanted to prove to everyone and myself that I wasn’t what I thought I was. I started to realize it in high school…this dark spot in the back of my mind that I had spent my childhood running away from slowly became familiar. I dipped my toes in and the darkest was relieving. It gave me permission to stop fighting, that my life would be easier if I just accepted it for what it was. I stopped living for myself. I gave up on trying to prove my worth…after all, what good had it done me? I wasn’t good enough for my parents to love me unconditionally, I wasn’t good enough to overcome the obstacles that came with having a disability, I wasn’t good enough to fix everything that was wrong with me.

The darkness was a heavy blanket; under it, I was able to disappear from the world and indulge in my feelings of sadness and rejection. My failures meant nothing and neither did my accomplishments. My existence was simply what it had always been, a mistake, and I was finally able to accept that. The dark held out its hand constantly, offering me the freedom to correct the mistake…all I’d have to do is take the dark by the hand and my life that was never meant to be, would be over. I could finally rest. Yet the people around me kept me going…I convinced myself that they needed me. When I realized that the person I’d been living for really didn’t need me, I’d turn my attention elsewhere. My siblings, my friends, my parents. Anyone besides me.

After high school, the dark became a storm I couldn’t see out of. I’d held onto the hope that things would get better. Everyone always told me, “life will get better,” “You don’t have it as bad as you think you do,” and “letting go would be selfish.” I guess that’s when the anger started; the remarks were contradicting and confusing. Life wasn’t getting better, in fact it was spiraling so quickly in the opposite direction of “better” that I couldn’t even imagine ever reaching “better.” You don’t have it as bad as you think” made me guilty for being angry that my life wasn’t getting any better and the guilty feeling made me angry. “Letting go would be selfish” that one was the one I clung to. I held onto those words because my life depended on it. Soon though, those words made me angry too. I wanted to be selfish. I had been living for everyone else but myself and it seemed to me like everyone else was being selfish so why couldn’t I be selfish for just a second? That’s all it would take…One second of giving in to selfishness and I would no longer be living.

Needless to say, I hit rock bottom quickly. At least, I hit what I thought was rock bottom. I failed, for the first time in my life I failed at the things I had prided myself and placed the entirety of my worth upon. I failed at holding my family together, protecting my siblings, getting good grades in school. I dropped out of college. I gave up and lived in a state of numb. Nothing meant anything anymore. Thoughts made no sense but the ones sent from the dark, I disconnected from everyone I ever loved because I knew they didn’t love me. I’d been many times that they didn’t, and it finally clicked.

It’s been four years since then…hospital visits, diagnosis, abusive intimate relationships, self caused trauma and self destruction with every step forward. I’m angry at everyone and everything now but if there’s one thing I pulled away from today’s group session…it’s that at least now I feel something. The numbness is replaced with frustration, anger and moments of pure rage. Yet at least I feel something. That's a step forward. I’m living again.

Sincerely,

Anonymous Cracked

[saoirse-1887]

OMG THE END OF PONYOOOOO

I FORGOT HOW CUTE IT ISSS

AAAAAAAAAAAAA

[ppersonna]

keep me warm - jhs | m

cause you keep me and nice and you keep me warm. wanna feel you on me, can't wait to get back there again - texas sun,  khruangbin

✹ summary- camping is always a great time when you’re with your friends, but even better with your boyfriend, hoseok.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- jung hoseok x reader

✹ word count- 3.9k - she’s a short lil quick dip ;)

✹ genre- smut. lol thats it. cant say there is much plot here besties!!! but there is big brother namjoon, brothers best friend hoseok, established relationship!!!

✹ warnings- explicit smut, cockwarming, dirty talk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be smart pls!), sex in a tent, a little exhibitionism???, fingering, finger sucking, creampie, lil bit of cum play but not really, hoseok is a dirty dirty boy and i love that about him tbh

✹ a/n- helloooo. i’ve been sitting on this and finally finished it!! thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner and beta reading and general support. i was inspired to write this fic when i went camping but pls be warned that sex in a tent is not as sexy as this fic makes it seem 🤕 ILY BESTIES!!! lemme know your thots!!!

The annual Kim Family camp out is an event you haven’t missed since your seventh birthday when you had chicken pox. It’s an outing that has gained notoriety among your friends, a monumental yearly occasion that takes months of prep in advance. What started as a simple camp out with your parents and your older brother Namjoon has become an event with extended friends and family members and significant others involved. Your parents handed down the event to you and your brother, claiming their older age keeps them from being able to keep up with “the youth” for an entire weekend, instead preferring to join for a big cookout dinner, then head back to the comfort of their tempurpedic mattress and functional plumbing back at home.

Not that you minded.

This year was different. Your cousins, Taehyung and Seokjin, would join with Tae’s girlfriend Maggie. Your childhood best friend Jimin would attend as well, bringing along his lover of the month, a tall and leggy brunette. Namjoon invited his best friend Yoongi, who brought along your mutual friend Jungkook. 

And most importantly, 

Jung Hoseok would be there. Your boyfriend.

Hoseok is no stranger to the Kim Family camp out. He’s been attending since he was sixteen after meeting Namjoon in high school jazz band and instantly becoming friends. You can vividly remember the older high school boy making sure you never felt left out in a group of gangly teenagers—bringing you along on hikes, and fishing, and general mischief.

It’s where you first fell for him.

Every year after that, you pined for Hoseok from afar at every outing. You’d lie awake at night in your shared tent with Jimin, desperately wishing the body next to you was Hoseok, wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm in the forest's chill.

Your relationship with Hoseok flourished after high school, when he was unknowingly in your chemistry class in college. Hours were spent pouring over textbooks together, cramming for exams and practice labs with a familiar friend.

Then came the coffee dates, the movie nights, the dinners. Hoseok went from an occasional study buddy to someone you talked to hourly.

The day he kissed you is a day you’ll never forget. 

Soft lips pressing onto yours over a bubbling beaker of magnesium, his hands cupping your cheeks as he drew you in so close, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Be mine,” he whispered. “Please, be mine.”

And you’ve been his ever since.

“Aish! Don’t burn my marshmallow, ___!” Namjoon scolds you, jerking your long stick away from the fire as he sits next to you. “I hate burned marshmallows.”

Annoyance bubbles up in your throat as you roll your eyes at your brother.

“I wouldn’t have to do this for you if you knew how to roast a marshmallow without starting a wildfire.”

Namjoon, ever the strong-headed big brother, glares at you. “That was an accident and you know it.”

Hoseok chuckles beside you, resting a hand on your leg as you murmur expletives about Namjoon and a certain stick under your breath.

“I’ll eat your burned one, babe,” he says with a smile. “I love your burned mallows.”

Hoseok’s charm is a balm to all your wounds. He easily melts the ice around your heart and soothes your frayed nerves with a simple look.

“Thanks, Hobi,” you reply. 

“Please, no talk of my sister’s mallows,” Namjoon winces. “It’s bad enough you’re dating in front of me. In front of my salad.”

Namjoon doesn’t mean it. He knows how deeply you love him, and he trusts Hoseok not to hurt his one and only sibling. But it doesn’t mean he’s not above rubbing it in your face that he was Hoseok’s friend first.

Jungkook laughs from where he’s sitting, roasting a hotdog over the crackling flame on Jimin’s lap (“There weren’t any seats left!”). 

“At least he’s not tossing her salad in front of you.”

Yoongi slaps the younger man’s hotdog out of his hand and into the fire, making Jungkook whine and pout petulantly.

“Don’t be gross,” Yoongi scolds and Namjoon nods at his friend in solidarity.

Hoseok smirks and licks his fingers clean of the sticky marshmallow. “Besides, we didn’t bring nearly enough lube for any anal play tonight.”

“Hoseok!” Namjoon screeches and you bashfully bury yourself into your sweater. The rest of the group explodes in laughter while your brother holds his head in his hands, lamenting the day you two met.

Hoseok pulls you into his lap, grinning as he kisses at your ear while maintaining firm eye contact with your brother, eager to make him as uncomfortable as possible.

While you’re relaxing into the warmth of your boyfriend’s body and enjoying the laughter of all your closest friends, Hoseok nips at your ear and whispers gently.

“I love you.”

“I’m so cold.” A shiver wracks through you as you burrow down deeper into your sleeping bag. The night air becomes increasingly frosty and you can easily see your breath in the dim light from the moon. “It wasn’t supposed to be this cold.”

Hoseok scoots his bag closer to yours, rubbing over the meshy material in an attempt to warm you.

“I thought about bringing another blanket before we left…,” he sighs. “But Namjoon told me I was being ‘a boy scout’.”

You bark out a frigid laugh, teeth chattering as you try to snuggle into the warmth of Hoseok’s hand.

Pleadingly, you ask. “Can we share? Maybe if we zip the sleeping bags together we can make one big extra-large sleeping bag?”

Hoseok nods. “Good idea.”

He quickly gets to work as soon as you unzip your sleeping bag and move off of it, allowing him to take it and zip the two bags together. He spreads it back out over the soft padded bed once it’s completed and he slips into his end before beckoning you over.

“Come to me, my little popsicle.”

The fabric swishes and slides as you move into the combined bag, wrapping your cold limbs around the warmth of your boyfriend’s body.

“Holy shit, you really are cold,” he exclaims with a grunt when your ice-cold hands seek the toasty expanse of his toned belly. “Fuck.”

“Sorry.” Your apology is anything but apologetic as the high temperature of Hoseok’s body quickly oozes into you. “You feel so good.”

A moan slips out of your lips, pleased at the warmth that your boyfriend radiates as you seek every spot on his body that radiates heat. 

“Hold on,” he whispers. 

Quickly, he rids himself of his shirt and tugs at the hem of your own.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You gasp as the icy air billows under your shirt. “Why would I get naked right now?”

He huffs. “Trust me?”

He kisses the pout on your lips, then pulls away with your shirt in his hands.

“Skin-to-skin contact is the easiest way to warm someone up. Body heat, you know. Textbook boy scout stuff.”

He twists your body around to spoon into him, back pressed against his ultra-warm chest, making you gasp once you feel the radiating heat spreading across you.

“Oh…” you sigh as you sink into his embrace. “You were right.”

Hoseok smirks as he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the nape of your neck—lips pressing gentle, warm kisses to the column below your ear.

“Told you so.”

Your body instinctively presses further into his body, desperate for the warmth that the human-heater seems to emit. His breath hitches as he feels your ass press hard against his lap, cock stirring at the proximity.

Hoseok’s hands run up and down your arms, warming each inch of your skin with his palms. He spreads heat wherever he touches, and your eyes flutter closed as he works his gentle, warming massage into your frozen skin. He is the epitome of sunshine, both in body and demeanor, always able to brighten the coldest chills with one look, one touch. 

When he’s satisfied that you’re thoroughly warmed where he’s worked, his hands move from your arms and shoulders around to your belly and up to your chest. You feel like mush under his grazing touch, gasping and biting your lip as he tugs gently at your perky nipple. It’s a live wire to his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groans as he feels himself harden. He kisses at your shoulder as he continues to palm at your chest, taking the fullness of your breasts into his whole hand and massaging it gently.

“Hobi…” you warn, feeling the desire between your thighs build. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

He chuckles against your skin, breathing hot air over your neck and shoulder, tightening his grip on your nipple for a quick pinch that makes you squeak.

“Who says we can’t finish?”

His voice is low—that deep, sensual tone that sets your tummy aflame with desire. His dick is pressed against your ass, twitching with need as it thickens in his pants.

His hand moves from your chest, rubbing soft, sweet circles on your stomach as he warms the cool flesh around your belly button, before traveling down to where your sleeping pants sit low on your hips.

“We c-can’t,” you meekly attempt to fight back, remain strong, but the warmth of his body and the need growing within you is quickly winning your internal battle of morality. “My cousin is next to us.”

Hoseok smirks as he slips underneath your pants, hand diving in between your thighs to rub at your soft mound. He’s close, so close to slipping inside of you, and you squeeze your eyes tight at the overwhelming urgency you’re feeling for his fingers inside you.

“You think Tae and Maggie are fast asleep right now?” He asks. 

As if on cue, you hear soft giggles coming from the next tent over, giggles that sound suspiciously like Taehyung’s girlfriend.

“Tae is really not that funny,” Hoseok says as he nibbles at your ear. “Let me warm you, baby.”

He seeks your consent, desperate to make you feel good but not willing to further his actions. 

“Mmm, maybe just a little more.”

His fingers seek purchase further, finally diving into your folds. He gasps into your ear as he feels how wet you’ve become from his ministrations, stroking gently up and down your slick slit and circling over your clit.

“Fuck, look at you,” he nearly whines into your ear. “So wet for me.”

“Please, Hobi,” you whimper. You’re not sure what you’re begging for, what you need, but all you want is for him to not stop, never stop. 

“You want me to keep going, don’t you?” He asks, teasingly circling the pad of his finger on your swollen clit. 

Unable to use your words, you nod. The light pressure on your clit has your thighs trembling and Hoseok thrills at the palpable desperation you’re feeling.

“Are you going to be quiet for me?” He asks, slowly moving his finger down before breaching into your channel. “Can’t be waking up the entire camp.”

Using your hand, you clamp over your mouth as your boyfriend's finger fucks into your hole, slowly and achingly gentle but with purpose. A shiver runs down his spine as he watches you try to hold yourself back. You’re not normally quiet—he makes it his mission to get you to whine and cry and yell his name as loud as he can when you’re at home. But the thrill of keeping you quiet while he sinks himself into you makes his body hum with want.

“Good girl,” he cooes as he introduces another finger inside you, scissoring you open with his lengthy digits. “Better stay quiet for me or I won’t let you cum.”

He quickly removes his fingers from your channel, making you whine behind your hand, which he silences with a soft tut.

“No complaining. Be good.”

He continues his journey to disrobe you, sliding off your pants and panties. He throws them to the other side of the tent where your luggage lies, no care about you wearing them the rest of the night. He follows suit with his own pants, swiftly pulling the material off his legs and allowing his throbbing cock to spring free. You desperately want to touch it, feel it in your hands and in your mouth, but he keeps you facing away from him, cock fully out of your reach.

“Such a perfect little ass,” he murmurs to himself as he admires your backside before sliding back into the big spoon position. The feeling of his hot, hard length against your bare ass makes you mewl with desire, teasingly rubbing against it.

“Fuck, Hobi,” you gasp as he slips his hands back to the apex of your thighs, scissoring into you again and warming his icy fingers in the heat of your cunt. 

“Shhh,” he reminds. “Let me give your mouth something to do, yeah?”

He pulls his dripping fingers from within your walls and brings them to your mouth. You eagerly open wide, obedient and desperate for something to take your mind off the growing neediness your body is throbbing with.

Watching you suck your own wet slick off his fingers makes Hoseok’s cock ache with need. The tip is weeping with pre-cum, as if crying out to bury itself within your walls and never retreat. It twitches as your tongue swirls over his digits, teasing him and reminding him how well you can suck his cock.

“Shit, baby,” he gasps. “I’m going to bust right now if you’re not careful.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and uses the spit-slick hand to lift your leg enough for him to line his cock up at your hole.

“You want to warm my cock for me, baby?” He nips at your shoulder as he rubs the bulbous head along your slit. “God, I want to be in this pretty little cunt all night. Can you keep me warm tonight?”

“P-please, baby,” you gasp as the tip prods at your entrance, threatening to breach. He preemptively moves his free hand back to your mouth, covering it gently to help keep your noisy mouth muffled. 

“Such a polite girl.” Hoseok’s lips skim over your neck and ear, nibbling at your lobe as he finally, blessedly, spears himself into you. 

“Fuuuck,” he whines as he drops his forehead against your soft hair, shuddering as he buries himself to the hilt. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Nothing compares to the feeling of Hoseok sinking himself into you. It’s like the first time, every time. He clings to you desperately, as if he wants to bury his entire self in between your thighs and never retreat. Being connected to your boyfriend like this, not knowing where he ends and you begin, is the most dazzling aspect of sex. Your heart beats in overtime, breath short and heavy, as he holds you like you’re his only worthy possession in life.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t withdraw his cock and plunge back into you like his body is begging him to. He wants nothing more than to roll you onto your stomach and fuck you until you’re screaming his name for the entire national forest to hear, but he doesn’t. 

“Mmm, Hobi, please,” you whine against his palm, kitten licking the flesh there to encourage him to move. It almost works, almost spurs him into action, but he remains flush against you and unmoving.

“Just trying to keep you warm, baby,” he teases. “Skin-to-skin contact.”

He can feel your body tense and shake around him, core tightening as you’re desperate to feel the friction you desire. It makes Hoseok nearly growl into your ear, clutching you tighter in his grasp.

“Now you want to fuck me?” He teases into your ear. “I thought you were tired?”

A pathetic whimper is the only response you can muster. You’re desperate for more, aching for his thick cock to thrust in and out of you. His hand slips down your body, caressing each inch of your skin before landing on your clit, circling the nub teasingly.

“I bet you could cum like this,” he breathes as he slowly swirls his finger. “With my cock stuffed inside you.”

He’s right—your body is already reacting to the stimulation and you can feel your body clenching around his unmoving length deep inside you. It’s prodding you in just the right spot that makes you keen, core desperate for some movement. His added touch makes you whine into his palm still covering your mouth.

“That’s right, baby,” he praises as he bites at your earlobe. “Such a needy little pussy, so desperate for me you could cum just from feeling me inside you.”

The pressure rises, stomach tightening as you feel your body near the edge of bliss. You can feel your thighs trembling as Hoseok whispers and nibbles at your ear, fingers working your clit with just the right rhythm to make you see stars.

His finger swirls with delicate speed, playing you like the nimble musician he is.

“Look at you, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already about to cum for me.”

Holding back your desperate moans, your eyes nearly roll back in their sockets as you feel your body build closer and closer to the blissful end that it craves. Having him buried deep inside you with none of the delicious friction is driving you crazy, and the speed of his fingers on your clit makes you keen for anything he can give you. You’re so close, so *fucking close* to your climax that your vision blurs.

Suddenly, the telltale sound of another tent zipper opening rips through the relative silence of the campground and Hoseok stills his finger on you.

“Shhh,” he warns, lifting his head to listen carefully. 

The sound comes from your left, Jungkook’s tent, and you squeeze your eyes tight and whimper into Hoseok’s palm at the ache in your belly. Jungkook stumbles around the campground before he makes his way out, and Hoseok smirks as the footsteps get quieter.

“That was close, baby,” he says as his finger teases over your throbbing clit. “We don’t want Jungkookie to find his friend like this, don’t we?”

You shake your head, body trembling as his finger provides not-enough stimulation on your tortured clit.

He keeps quiet and continues his feather-light touch, pleased at the unexpected orgasm denial and the way it makes your cunt clench around his cock as if coaxing it to give you what you need most.

“You better not be loud,” he warns. “You don’t want to ruin our fun, right?”

Agonizing moments later, Jungkook’s footsteps return and he zips himself back into his tent and quickly heads back to sleep. He remains stilled inside you, listening intently for any sounds of the others awakening.

After minutes of desperate silence and your needy cunt aching for your boyfriend to move, he rolls you onto your stomach with him on top, cock still buried deep within you.

“You’ve done so well,” he praises as he leans down and licks a fat stripe on the back of your neck, making you shiver. “Take your reward like a good girl.”

Without warning, Hoseok grips at your hips and starts a brutal pace, fucking you fast and hard while staying quiet. It feels so good, better than the feeling of him being still inside you. Nothing can compare to his thickness spearing into you, stretching you wide. The ridges of his cock feel like heaven from the position he has you in, and you can feel the stimulation building upon your ruined, curtailed orgasm from earlier.

He quickly rams a piece of the sleeping bag into your mouth, forcing you to be quiet as he nearly impales you open, burying himself as deep into your womb as he can before retreating and thrusting in for more. You can tell he’s close by the way his movements lose finesse, the way his hands grip your thick hips as if he’s grasping a lifeline. 

“Gonna fill you up,” Hoseok whispers harshly, his voice taking on the rough edge that makes your body react. “You want my cum, baby?”

Your mouth is full, but your head nods quickly and you arch your back to let him reach even deeper inside of you, desperate to get yourself and him off simultaneously.

“Shit,” he groans as he feels your body accept him even further at this new angle, your ass high in the air. He grips it, enjoys the way the flesh jiggles in his grip and with each thrust. “Cum on my cock, baby, please.”

Hoseok doesn’t beg, hardly ever, so when he’s desperate for your release, you’re equally desperate to give it to him. As he pounds into you, taking full advantage of your prone body and lifted hips, the dam holding back your climax finally erupts, making your walls quiver and squeeze around his cock and forcing you to bury your face as far as you can into your sleeping bag to muffle your whines.

He wishes he could hear your screams, wants to hear the way you cry his name out as your cunt milks him, begs him for his own end. Another round of thrusts and he feels it all snap, cock pulsing out hot spurts of cum into your eager and waiting channel.

He pulls out of you, loving the way his cum follows him out, dribbling out of your spent pussy weakly. He lifts a finger and scoops it up, pushing it back into your juicy walls and nearly whining as he feels it wet and sopping with his release. You’re pulling the sleeping bag from your mouth, panting hard from your own release and turning around to look at your boyfriend, hips wiggling.

Hoseok smiles fondly at you, removing his finger from your walls and rubbing the smooth skin of your ass.

“Are you warm?” He asks with a smirk, knowing by the sheen of sweat on both of your bodies that you’ve successfully warmed up in the bite of the chilly night.

He flops down beside you and pulls you in close, snuggling into the sleeping bag while kissing your face gently.

Hoseok’s cock is still hard, still aching even after a release and you’re quick to grasp it in your hands, finally getting a grip on it for the first time tonight.

“Better keep you warm all night like I promised, huh?” You smile sleepily as you lift your leg to allow him entrance to your center yet again. “Keep me full all night please, baby?”

He is loath to deny you, and the wet heat of your used pussy feels like heaven. He holds you closer, pulls you in tight as he buries his cock as far as he can go, before kissing you sweetly once more.

He knows he’ll wake up in a few hours, dick throbbing with a need to take you for yet another round, but for now, he revels in the warmth and love and safety he feels when he’s connected to you in nearly every way.

“By the way, I love you too, Hoseok,” you whisper to him after a few moments of silence, recalling to the sweet whispered words around the campfire.

Hoseok smiles as he closes his eyes, body and soul in pure bliss.

And when Namjoon complains in the morning that he could hear the sounds of his little sister getting railed, Hoseok will let him know he ensured you didn’t suffer from hypothermia—that it’s his job as boyfriend to ensure you’re kept safe,

and always kept warm.

[devilyn]

belated regrets | kuroo tetsurou

— alexa, play: remember me by umi

Cuz I'm getting older Know that I've changed But I can't go back now Nothing's the same And I won't forget how You called my name When I was afraid And now I'm afraid

— synopsis: after taking advantage of your friendship, what will kuroo do to win it back?  — genre: angst, friends to lovers if you squint — word count: 3.1k

This wasn't like you. You had stopped crying over Kuroo months ago. You stopped thinking about whether or not he had eaten yet, if he had gotten home safe, if he would text you goodnight, and yet here you were. You were crying again, after claiming you moved on and healed, and after telling all your friends that you would cut him out of your life.

You wish you blocked his number. It felt mean to do it back then, but you really wish you did, because now you definitely wouldn't be able to.

"I think we should take some time apart," were the words you whispered to him over the phone one night a few months back when he was telling you about some girl he had gotten close to in his chemistry lecture.

There was a painful silence that lasted over 15 long seconds. You'd never forget. You counted, after all.

"Why?" he asked quietly. "You're my best friend. What did I do wrong?"

Your 'friendship' had always been strange, after all. Everyone told you that, and even Kenma firmly believed that the two of you would end up dating eventually. But every time, Kuroo would laugh and ruffle your hair while proclaiming he would never date you.

And every time, you'd force a smile and agree with him.

"This friendship...just isn't what it used to be," you answered. It was true. Ever since the two of you got to college, things had changed. He met different people through his classes and bustling parties, and thus different girls that he'd ask you about. You manufactured his sweet texts to them, all while wishing he'd send them to you and feel just as nervous calling you late at night. You'd help guide him through the process of asking her out, then let him come over and be sad when he was rejected. 

Every aspect of your friendship became about him, him, and him. His academics were doing well--he was a surprisingly smart man after all--but they took a toll on him mentally, as they do to all college students. The same happened to you as well, but never once did Kuroo ask about how you were doing, how you were feeling, how you were coping with the sudden changes to your life.

You kept in contact with Kenma, who you'd text once in a while to tell him about how much you hated his previous captain. And Kenma would listen to you cry over the phone about his foolish childhood friend that knew nothing about your growing feelings for him. He was the only person who kept you grounded, and understood that your feelings for Kuroo couldn't be so easily tossed aside as the rest of your friends claimed. He also was the one who encouraged you to end your friendship with Kuroo gently, knowing that he would have to deal with the aftermath of Kuroo's confusion.

"Can I fix it somehow?" Kuroo asked in a panic, and you laughed bitterly. You had asked him many times to fix things--his treatment of you as if he were your therapist being the main one. He’d apologize, yet things would always end up returning to how they were before, with you being at the bottom on his list of priorities.

"Not anymore," your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat to pretend like you weren't crying. "I think you'll be fine without me."

“Y/N--”

“Don’t call me from now on, please. Don’t come over, because I won’t answer the door,” you paused. “...you’re still going to be my friend. I just need space.”

A lie. You knew it, and Kenma did too when you rehearsed your lines to him. He told you such, but you couldn’t bear to tell Kuroo the truth.

And even as you hung up, deep down, you wished he would disobey your wishes. You wanted him to text you and come to his senses, realizing he was wrong. You wanted to relive late night calls where you would laugh and talk about absolutely nothing just because you couldn’t fall asleep. You wanted to go back to him showing up at your front door with a bucket of fried chicken to reward you for studying hard for your midterm exams. You wanted to lay next to him on a grassy field again, where he was gazing up at the stars and you were mesmerized by how beautiful your best friend was, inside and out.

But Kuroo never called. You no longer sent him good morning texts, asking how his day was, and he stopped asking for your advice. It was like the two of you were less than friends. You’d only speak when you sent him an occasional meme that reminded you of him, or a song you knew he would enjoy. He’d respond earnestly, as if your friendship of over four years wasn’t shattered during that one call months ago.

Kenma called you an idiot for not cutting him off entirely, and you would have to agree with him. You were an idiot who was head over heels for a man who would never share your feelings.

It took months for you to get over it, but the distance you put between the two of you definitely helped. So why was it, all of a sudden, after you were finally healing and moving on, that Kuroo decided to call you out of nowhere?

You stared at your buzzing phone, the image of a stupid face Kuroo made flashing on your screen. 

Should you pick up? Should you pretend like you didn’t see his call? During your time contemplating, his photo faded away and your phone stopped vibrating angrily against your coffee table. 

Your heart felt like it was going to beat through your chest when you saw the ‘one missed call’ notification flicker mockingly at you. You stared at your phone, breath hitching in your throat when suddenly, you received a new text from none other than Kuroo Tetsurou himself.

“Fuck,” you cursed, leaning your head back against the couch and groaning loudly. Should you call Kenma? You could already feel a headache incoming. 

Why? Why did Kuroo always do this to you? He’s always had terrible timing, and apparently that never changed.

You plucked your phone from the table, braving it all and finally reading what he had to say to you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you fucking serious,” you grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut to chase away the anger building up inside of you. “Now? Now of all times? Does he even know what he’s sorry for?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Kuroo to apologize to you just because he knew you were upset. Still, you always forgave him solely because he was your best friend. But now, you knew better.

Fully ready to toss your phone aside, your eyes caught a new text from your ex-best friend.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Liar.

“I’m sorry for that one time I told you I’d help you study for your chemistry exam but ended up forgetting and missing all your texts and calls.”

You remembered that day. You had confided in him about your bad grade, and when he told you he could help you study, you were over the moon at the thought of being able to raise your nearly failing chemistry grade (and at the thought of spending more time with him). You called him multiple times when he didn’t show up, but gave up when he didn’t pick up the fifth time. You stayed up all night studying on your own, but still ended up failing that exam. You dropped the class, and ended up taking it next semester to get a much better grade without Kuroo’s help.

“I’m sorry for when you couldn’t tell me why you cried the entire day but still let me over so I could complain about Kira turning me down.”

That day, you were extremely overwhelmed. Your roommate was out somewhere, so you were left on your own to cry over the endless amount of assignments you had to deal with, on top of everything else. Kuroo had called that day, clearly in distress, and though you were in tears, you wiped them away and put on a weak smile when he showed up at your front door with a pained expression.

You wanted to be there for him. He was your best friend, after all.

“I’m sorry for that time that I left in the middle of our movie night because Ayane called me and wanted to go out to eat together.”

Your heart stung at the memory. The sight of his back getting up from your couch while completely ignoring the hurt in your eyes was still engraved into your memory, even if you spent months trying to forget it. You had called his name, but he was too busy eagerly chattering on the phone to even hear you. When he turned around, it was to bid you goodbye before abruptly leaving you with a half-eaten bag of popcorn and an animated movie still running that you no longer felt like finishing.

“I’m sorry for making you think you didn’t mean anything to me.”

Did you make an impact on his life? Deep down, you had hoped you did, so he’d always remember you.

“I’m sorry for taking advantage of your friendship.”

That, he definitely did.

“I’m sorry for being the worst friend ever. I miss you so much, Y/N.”

Why were you crying again? Your hands came up to wipe at your cheeks before hurriedly video calling Kenma’s phone.

When he picked up, the first thing he did was sigh at the sight of your disheveled appearance. If you weren’t completely in tears, you may have laughed at his attitude towards the situation, but all you could do was let out a weak whimper.

“I think he’s drunk,” he spoke without you needing to say anything. The thought of Kuroo only texting you because he was inebriated hurt you even more.

“He’s such an asshole,” you managed to croak out between your cries. Kenma only nodded, eyes clearly focused on the screen of his PC. Briefly, they turned to look at you again and his expression softened.

“You should’ve blocked him,” he mumbled, and a weak laugh left your lips. “Are you going to reply?”

You were quiet for a bit, before shaking your head.

And with that, Kenma hummed softly. He stayed on the phone with you until you finished crying over his childhood friend, and only hung up when you finally promised him you’d call him again the next day.

Tomorrow came quicker than you thought it would, and you managed to ignore Kuroo’s messages without giving into the temptation to text him back. Your life went back to normal, relatively, aside from one thing.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you for not understanding me when you gave me advice. I was childish, and only wanted to hear what I wanted to hear.”

Now, Kuroo was texting you everyday with something he was supposedly sorry for. And now, you were calling Kenma everyday to beg him to tell Kuroo to stop, to just leave you alone so you could move on. And every day, Kenma would tell you that you both knew how stubborn Kuroo could be when he put his mind to something.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you whenever you needed me even though you were always the first one to worry about me and how I was doing.”

At this point, it had been a few days since the initial text, and you wanted nothing more than to find him and yell at him to leave you alone. You were fine with brief interactions, pretending like your feelings for him never existed and he never regarded you as someone he could trust with his deepest feelings. You were fine with that.

“I’m sorry for being stupid and being able to understand everyone else’s feelings except for my best friend’s.”

But now he was pushing your boundaries. He was asking for more than what you could give him without giving him your entire heart again. You knew, and Kenma probably knew too, that if Kuroo kept doing this, you’d end up forgiving him. You’d give up on all the work it took over the past few months to get over him and go back to being his best friend if he asked you to. All that courage you put in to cut him off in the first place would disappear, and you’d be back to square one.

“I’m sorry for not realizing you liked me, and that I like you too.”

That was the last straw.

“You’re a prick.”

His response was almost immediate.

“Can I call you?”

Before you even had the chance to reply, your phone was buzzing in your hand and you nearly dropped it in your surprise. Without thinking, you picked up. And you cursed yourself for doing that.

“Y/N,” his familiar voice calling your name in that teary tone nearly made you cry again. Instead, you bit down on your lower lip to prevent the sadness crawling up your throat. You could hear the noises of cars passing by on the other line. He must’ve been outside

“Y/N, I missed you so much,” Kuroo’s voice was weak, and cracked a bit as he spoke, as if he too was holding back tears. “Thank you for picking up the phone.”

There was silence between the two of you for a bit before you shakily breathed in.

“Please stop texting me,” you finally managed to mumble. “Please stop thinking that you actually have feelings for me just because I was a comfortable person to fall back to when you didn’t have anyone else to go on dates with at the time.”

“That’s not the case--”

“If that’s not the case, then what is, Kuroo?” you interrupted, voice trembling. “I’ve had these feelings for you for so long, and now all of a sudden I’m gone and you like me too? Fuck off, I can’t believe you of all people would think so lightly of my feelings.”

“Listen,” his voice was pleading. “It’s not like that. Can I talk to you in person?”

“If I see you, I’m just going to cry again,” you laughed bitterly. You could hear shuffling on the other line.

“Then I’ll hold you until you stop crying,” he retorted firmly, and your heart jumped in your chest. How long had you waited to hear him speak like that about you? Like he just might share the same adoration for you that you did for him?

“You won’t even be able to find me,” you mumbled more to yourself than to him. It wasn’t like you were at your apartment, after all. You needed to get away.

“If you really think that,” you jumped at the sound of his voice closer than you thought. Looking up from your feet, your traitorous heart rate raced at the sight of those familiar almond eyes and unfixable bedhead. “Then I must’ve been a really bad friend, huh?”

You spent an excessive amount of time just staring up at him from your spot on the swings, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He had bags under his eyes, and his bedhead was a little messier than it had previously been. Despite all that, the man in front of you was undoubtedly the best friend you’d caught feelings for.

“...how’d you find me?” you finally asked as he took a seat on the swing next to your own.

“I wanna say that I’m just a genius, but honestly, you never removed me from seeing your location.”

Your eyes adjusted to the brightness of his screen. When you spotted the familiar profile photo of your smiling face on the map, all you could do was sigh. Anxiously, you ran your sweaty palms along your pants to wipe them off.

“I’ve said it a dozen times at this point,” Kuroo tucked his phone back into his pants, “But I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I get it,” you mumbled, exhausted of his apologies at this point.

“I don’t know what more I can say besides I’m sorry,” he admitted weakly. You couldn’t find the courage to lift your head to look at his probably desperate expression. “I’ll be honest. I wanted to respect your wishes at first. If you wanted distance, I’d give it to you. But the more time passed, the more I missed you.”

You fiddled with your fingers and the edge of your shirt, trying to find any distraction so you didn’t have to listen to his explanation.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, “I thought I was an idiot, for treating you the way I did. I took advantage of how comfortable I was around you, and when you finally left me, I realized how lucky I was to have someone I could be so myself with.”

He turned to look at you, and you finally lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. Your heart ached. He looked so tired.

“Have you been eating?” You asked quietly.

“See?” He smiled bitterly. “You care so much about me, and all I do is take that kindness and give nothing back.”

You felt tears prick at your eyes again as he took your hand and placed it onto his cheek, the familiar warmth of his hand reminding you that you truly would never be able to get over him.

“I hate you,” you lied through the tears slipping down your cheeks, “so much for everything you’ve done. For making me fall for you.”

“I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you if you’ll let me,” his other hand reached up to brush your tears away. “As your friend, and as someone who finally realized his feelings for you too late. And if I’m lucky, I hope you’ll let me back into your life.”

“It won’t be the same,” you admitted honestly. Truthfully, your friendship would never be the same after all the hurt you endured because of him. Things that may have seemed so small to other people hurt you deeply, solely because you trusted him so much.

“I trusted you to be there and to understand me,” you told him, “and you ignored all that. You can’t expect that to be fixed so quickly.”

“I know,” he brushed your hair behind your ear. “So I’ll give my all to build a new relationship with you. One where I’ll be better, and won’t hurt you ever again.”

The two of you were silent as you cried. Through your tears, you could see his wet eyes. The sight brought a weak laugh to your lips.

“Kenma said you’re way too stubborn when you put your mind to something,” you smiled sadly. “This is your last chance, Kuroo. Don’t ruin it.”

[bokubonk]

your name

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, insecurity, cursing

characters: Tanaka x gn!reader, Saeko

date: 04/11/21

word count: 1.6k+

It was Friday and you were heading to the convenience store to buy snacks for your weekly movie night with Tanaka. It was something you looked forward to all week considering he was the one you liked and these movie nights gave you hope that maybe he liked you back. After all, he never invited anyone else to them and they always led to you falling asleep in his arms, which he never protested to. 

It had been going on for a long time now since the two of you were childhood friends but over the years your feelings developed and now, you held onto the hope that the hours the two of you spent together meant something more. 

You walked with a bounce in your step, quickly picking out your favorite snacks, knowing the two of you had similar tastes. You rushed to pay for everything and quickly hurried out the door, wanting to be there to greet him once he came home after practice. 

He always scolded you for waiting out in the cold when you could be waiting inside but you wanted to be the first one to welcome him home so you always waited. For you, it was worth the risk of getting sick. 

You leaned against the wall, hands fumbling with the straps of your bag. It was getting colder and you were a little worried that something had happened. Normally, he got home within fifteen minutes of you being there but it had been almost forty five minutes and he had yet to show up. 

With furrowed brows you decided to knock on the door, hoping that maybe Tanaka had been told to stay behind to practice and your expression brightened when you saw Saeko.

“Oh? Y/n, what are you doing here?” she inquired, her voice raspy and her cheeks flushed from what appeared to be a cold. “Did he not text you?”

Your smile dropped and your chest tightened.

“What do you mean?” 

You nervously gripped the bag of food in your hand, reaching into your pocket to pull out your phone.

Your eyes widened when you saw the message on the screen that had clearly been sent hours ago. 

I’m going on a date tonight so I gotta cancel movie night. I promise I’ll make it up to you.

“Oh,” you murmured, blinking away your tears. She stared at you with pity in her eyes and you put on your best smile, hoping she wouldn’t be able to see through the cracks. 

“I guess I’ll just head home then. Have a good night,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. “It’s getting late so you should stay inside and rest,” you handed over the bag of snacks, “I know it’s not going to do much for your cold but you should eat these if you’re hungry.”

She shook her head, her eyes full of concern and she went back inside to grab her keys. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home. It’s not right for you to be out so late at night without anyone with you.”

You shook your head.

“It’s okay. It’s not that far of a walk anyway. I’ll be alright.”

“That brother of mine may be an idiot but I know how much you mean to him. I just don’t understand what he thinks he’s doing, going out on a date with someone else.”

You let out a laugh, “Yeah, I guess that makes two of us.”

It wasn’t a surprise that Saeko was sympathizing with you, considering how obvious your feelings were for her brother. Often, you saw her winking at you whenever she would spot the two of you cuddling in his room. Anyone could see how you felt about him if they looked hard enough but you figured you didn’t matter enough to Tanaka for him to realize you were in love with him. 

Perhaps this was your time to let go of him. Maybe this was fate’s way of saying you should give up. 

You let out a bitter laugh and steeled your nerves for what was to come. But you were comforted with the thought that at least he would be happy with whoever he went out with tonight even though you wished with all your heart that it was you. 

By the time you came home, you were no longer in the mood to eat anything, your thoughts so preoccupied with who he was on a date with. 

What did they look like? Did they make him smile? 

You laid awake, thinking about all these possibilities and you hated yourself for it. You hated yourself for still holding on even though you promised to let him go. 

It certainly didn’t help that you had the weekend to dwell on your thoughts and it was taking a toll on your health. Your dark circles were more prominent and with Monday coming up you weren’t sure how you would face him. 

So you did the next best thing and decided to avoid him at all costs, walking the other way whenever you saw him in the halls. You wondered if he even remembered you were missing from his life but from the goofy smile on his face whenever you stumbled into his path, you figured you had been forgotten. 

It hurt to know that after so many years, you had been so easily forgotten but you were glad that at least he found someone who made him happy. 

But when Friday came, your plans to ignore him went down the drain when you saw him waiting for you after class ended. You tried pushing past him and pretending you hadn’t seen him but he only came after you, grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you into an empty classroom to talk. 

“What’s going on?” he demanded, “Why are you ignoring me?”

When you only responded with your silence he let out a sigh, “If it’s because of movie night then I promise I’ll never cancel on you ever again. The date sucked anyway.”

“I don’t want to hear about your date, Ryu,” you replied, trying your best to ignore the tight feeling in your chest.

“Hey, hey, why are you crying? I said I’m sorry. Do you want me to take you shopping to make it up to you? We can have movie night every night if you want, anything, please just stop crying.”

You could tell he was desperate, but you were too hurt to allow things to go back to the way they were before. It had been too long that you allowed yourself to have feelings for him when you clearly knew he didn’t feel the same. After all, if he did then why would he go on a date with someone else.

“It’s fine. We don’t need to have any more movie nights. I’m getting pretty busy anyway. I’m sure you have to practice late too. You should prioritize volleyball.”

You kept your voice steady even with the tears streaming down your cheeks but that only made him more frustrated. Tanaka knew you were upset but unlike before, now you were refusing to forgive him and he was worried that he had fucked it all up and this would be the moment he lost you.

“What the fuck, y/n? Why are you being like this? I already apologized. What more do you want from me?”

He didn’t mean to be so forceful with his words but your cold demeanor worried him and he was desperate to bring things back to the way they were. 

“I want you to love me,” you sobbed, unable to bear putting up a front any longer. “But I know you don’t and I’m trying to let you go so please just leave me alone.”

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Who the fuck said I didn’t love you?” 

“You went out on that date,” you sniffled.

“Yeah? Were you jealous?” he asked, his voice soft. He cursed himself for making you cry but he couldn’t hold back the affection in his voice now that he knew you felt the same. Tanaka only wished he had known earlier or he would have never wasted his time going on a date with someone else. 

“Of course I was,” you scoffed, “You don’t see me going on dates with anyone else so why would you go out with someone else if you had feelings for me.”

“Because I was trying to get over you and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” he admitted, lowering his head in a sort of bow. Now that he thought about it, he realized just how stupid he was and he hated himself for ever thinking it was a good idea in the first place. “But I ended up fucking myself over anyway because the date sucked and you started ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” you muttered while he lifted his head and quirked an eyebrow at you. You rolled your eyes and he gently took your face between his calloused hands so you couldn’t look away. 

“Hey, y/n,” he murmured, his eyes bright. “Ask me why the date sucked.”

You furrowed your brows, unsure but you followed his command anyway.

“Why did your date suck?”

“Because it wasn’t with you,” he replied, leaning closer until he was inches away and you were a hairsbreadth away from kissing. “You were all I could think about and it got to the point where I accidentally called them by your name.”

“Now, tell me. Can I finally do the honors of taking you out on a date?” he questioned.

“Yeah,” you answered, your breathing hitching as he closed the distance between the two of you.

“Good, because I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”

fill out this form if you want to join my taglist!!

@cindyttnx @halesandy @haikyuutothetop @jujube1237 @callmedirtbag @thestrawberrysimp @elektrosonix @h-grangerstudies @heyathisisalsome @savantsoulfinder @deleoncindy @crapimahuman @tiny-is-sad-100 @moonlightaangel @queenciara @kayleighbeccaa​ @ihaveajuicebox7 @hazel1618​ 

(Users in bold could not be tagged)

[elliesguitarstrings]

promises, promises || part one: what used to be

masterlist || series masterlist

tom holland x reader

summary: you're crying over someone you haven't seen in two years, tom is straight up depressed, your friends are trying to set you up, and sam is just trying his best to help

warnings: ANGST, language, mentions of sex, little bit of fluff, probably typos

A/N: PART ONE IS HERE!!!! i absolutely love this fic and i hope you guys love it as much as i do :)

p.s. this ended up being really long sooooo i decided to make it into a series instead lol if y'all haven't figured that out

wc: 5k

~~~~~~~~

"I got the part! Holy shit I actually got the part!" Tom throws his computer across the bed in disbelief, almost hitting you.

"Wait, like THE part? Like Spiderman?" you question excitedly.

"YES!!! Check the Marvel Instagram right now!" he crawls over to you as you whip out your phone and quickly search up the account. You scan the page to see a post captioned, "Click the link in our bio to see who the new Spider-Man is!" You quickly find the link and impatiently wait for the page to load. And then you see it, boldface print and giant letters across your phone.

The new Marvel Cinematic Universe Spider-Man will be played by: TOM HOLLAND

"HOLY SHIT TOM! You're fucking Spiderman!" you tackle him with a hug, squeezing him so tightly that he has to fight for breath. "I'm so proud of you, I knew you were gonna do big things." you smile brightly.

"We have to go tell everyone else, come on!" Tom pulls you off of him, dragging you out of his bedroom and down the stairs to give his family the big news.

The rest of the Hollands were already together in the family room, and they immediately took notice of yours and Tom's excitement as the two of you are bounding down the stairs.

Out of breath, Tom sprints to the center of the room. "Attention everyone, I have an extremely important announcement to make!" He pauses for dramatic effect, his family waiting in anticipation. "I'M GONNA BE SPIDERMAN!"

This causes an outburst of cheers and applause from his parents and brothers, each one of them getting up to hug Tom and congratulate him on this huge achievement.

Paddy pipes up, "How did you get the news? Did they call you or something?"

"Um, not exactly. They posted it on their Instagram and on the Marvel website as well, wanna see?" He turns to you, "Y/N, show them your phone!"

You pull out your phone and open the screen you were just looking at, showing the Hollands the Instagram post and article.

"No way, they're totally hacked." Harry remarks, earning disapproving looks from Nikki and Dom. "if you were really gonna be the next Spiderman, they would have called you."

Before Tom has the time to argue back, his phone rings, as if on cue. Tom pulls it out of his back pocket and nervously studies the number across the screen.

"Well, what are you waiting for div, answer it!" Sam chirps impatiently.

The rest of the room is silent while Tom listens intently to the person the other line. You can't make out what they are saying, but the eventual smile on Tom's face completely gives it away.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you so much for this opportunity," he holds while the other person talks again. "Yeah, I'll be in touch, definitely. Thank you again." Tom ends the call and lets out a sigh of relief. "That was fucking Kevin Feige! I got the part! I actually am gonna be the next Spiderman!"

You and the rest of his family cheered even louder than before, enveloping him in a giant group hug.

"I say we celebrate!" Nikki announces. "How about we go out for a nice dinner?"

Tom smiles, "If I'm honest mum, as nice as that would be, I'd rather just stay in and celebrate here tonight. I like your cooking better than any fancy restaurant anyways."

"Of course honey, I'll make your favorite. We can have a nice big family dinner, how does that sound?"

"Sounds perfect mum, thank you."

She dashes into the kitchen followed by Sam, the aspiring chef of the family, while Dom, Harry, and Paddy go to dress the table.

You take this as your cue to leave, seeing as you don't want to disrupt the rest of Tom's night with his family. "I guess I should get going then," you turn to Tom, hugging him once again. "Congratulations again, I'm so proud of you Tommy." you smile as you head to grab your things before you leave.

"Nonsense! You're staying for dinner too!" Tom stops you.

"Tom, I can't, you should spend this night celebrating with your family." you try to reason with him.

"But I want you here too!" he pouts.

"And you are family!" Nikki pipes in from the kitchen, earning nods of agreement from the rest of the family.

"See, everyone wants you here Y/N, please celebrate with us?" Tom cups your face.

"Are you sure? I really don't want to-"

Nikki cuts you off, piping in once again, "Y/N, I insist you stay for dinner with us. You've been a part of this family for so long, and you know that. So please stay and celebrate with us!" she smiles.

You giggle, "Well, I guess I can't say no to that." Tom smiles, giddily engulfing you in another hug.

After a long and delicious dinner, you and Tom now lay under the stars in the treehouse in his backyard. Dom had built it for you two when you were eight years old, and it's been your special place ever since then. Obviously, it has been upgraded and redecorated since then, now that you and Tom were both eighteen, but it still takes you back to the old days when you were just carefree little kids.

You cuddle into Tom's chest, looking up at the night sky through the small window in the roof of the treehouse. "I wish we could stay here forever," you whisper.

"Me too." Tom pulls you closer, kissing your forehead.

"Everything's gonna change you know. We're graduating in two weeks, and then you leave for America. I don't know what I'm gonna do without you." A small tear rolls down your cheek which doesn't go unnoticed by Tom.

He wipes the tear off your face with his thumb, cupping your chin to make you face him. "Hey, hey, look at me. Things might be changing, but that doesn't mean we have to. I'm only gonna be gone for a few months, and then I'll be back. I love you so much, and a few hundred miles is never going to change that. I will never let anything come between us, ever, okay?"

You smile softly, "You promise?"

"I promise darling. It's you and me forever. I'm never letting you go. Never in a million years." he kisses you lovingly, and you swear you could just live in this moment forever with him, and only him.

That was six years ago. And what Tom said was true, everything had changed. You just wish everything else he had said that night was true too.

Now, Tom is a world-famous actor, living a luxurious life out in Hollywood. You, however, have stayed in England, living only thirty minutes away from your childhood home with your newfound best friends Julia and Finn. You are no longer a part of Tom's life, and he is no longer a part of yours. But that doesn't mean you've forgotten about him.

How could you possibly forget about Tom? Your entire childhood was spent with him. From the ages of two to twenty-two, you were inseparable. To this day, you still remember when you first met, and you think about it often.

"I no wanna go! I stay home and watch princesses!" you cry, defiantly pulling away from your mother's firm grip as she tries to stuff you into shoes that are much too small for your rapidly growing feet.

"I know honey, but we have to go welcome the new neighbors who just moved in across the street. We made them brownies, remember?" she smiles.

You scrunch your face up, " No! I stay home!"

Your dad chimes in, kneeling down to your level. "Listen peanut. How about we make a deal. You come with us and say hello to the new neighbors, and then after we get home you can watch any princess movie you want and maybe even have some ice cream, how does that sound?"

You smile, "Ice cream with rainbow sprinkles?"

He rubs your head, "With rainbow sprinkles."

"Okay. I go then."

Your parents smile, and you hold their hands as you walk across the street to meet the neighbors. Your mom rings the doorbell, and the door opens to reveal a red-headed woman, smiling at you and your parents. Hiding behind her is a small, curly-headed brunette boy about the same height as you.

Your mom introduces herself, "Hi! My name is Y/M/N, this is my husband Y/D/N, and this is my daughter Y/N. We live right across the street, and we just wanted to welcome you into the neighborhood." She outstretches her arms, holding the brownies, "I made these for you as well, I hope you like them!"

The woman smiles, "Oh, wow, thank you so much, you are so sweet! Would you like to come in for a bit?"

"Of course, as long as you'll have us."

She ushers the three of you in and you stay close to your mom, still wary of entering a stranger's home.

As she closes the door behind her, she introduces herself as well, "Sorry, the house is a little messy, we’re still getting settled in. But I'm Nikki, my husband Dominic is unpacking in the kitchen, and this is Tom." She motions to the boy behind her, "Tom, say hello to the nice people!"

He timidly steps forward, waving at you and your parents. "Hello." he says quietly.

"Oh my, he is adorable!" your mom gushes. She walks over to him, "How old are you Tom?"

He holds up two fingers, "This many."

She smiles, "Two years old? Wow, you're so big! Guess what, you know who else is that many?" Tom shakes his head no. "My daughter Y/N!" She motions for you to come, and you shyly walk forward.

You wave at him, and that makes him smile. Nikki taps Tom on the shoulder, "Do you maybe want to show Y/N your toys upstairs?

He nods his head, smiling at you, "Wanna go play?" he asks.

You smile back, looking at your mom for permission. She nods her head and pushes you forward. "Okay, we go." you respond. He takes your hand and pulls you upstairs, seemingly coming out of his shell. You don't know what it is about this boy, but he makes you feel warm, like a hug. It's something your two-year-old brain can't quite comprehend, but suddenly you couldn't care less about watching princess movies or eating ice cream.

Sometimes you wish that day had never happened, that you had never met him. You wish your little two-year-old self had fought harder against your parents so that you wouldn’t have to endure the years of pain he would cause you later in life. But you can’t go back, and in part, you’re glad about that. He was your first friend, your first crush, and your first love. But he was also your first heartbreak, and that’s something you can never forget.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a sharp knock on your bedroom door. "Hey, are you almost ready? We have to leave in ten or we'll be late!" you hear Julia's muffled voice from the other side of the door. Finn is hosting a gala tonight for his art studio, and being his best friends and roommates, you and Julia are basically required to go.

"Uh, yeah, I'm about done, I'll be out in a minute!" You haven't even started getting ready, but you don't have any more time. You quickly raid your closet and find a short v-neck black dress and matching heels. You wiggle into the dress as you make your way into the bathroom. You had planned on straightening your hair, but you have no time, so instead, you brush it back into a sleek low ponytail and spray it with a bit of hairspray. There's no time for the elaborate makeup look you had planned either, so you quickly throw on some concealer, blush, mascara, eyeliner, a bit of highlight, and you're set. As you walk to the door, you grab your purse and slip on your heels, making sure you have your phone and keys. Finn and Julia are already waiting in the car, both with disapproving looks.

"What the fuck took you so long? We were supposed to leave five minutes ago! You know I can't be late for this thing." Finn complains as you slip into the backseat.

"Sorry, I, uhm, don't feel well. A little nauseous." you lie. You don't feel like telling them that you were actually crying about someone you haven't seen or talked to in two and a half years like you do every other night.

"You're not pregnant are you?" Julia chuckles.

"Oh please, we all know that Y/N hasn't gotten any since he who must not be named." Finn replies for you.

"Thanks Finn, what a great friend." you joke sarcastically.

He's not wrong though. Since you and Tom broke up, you haven’t slept with a single person. You’ve been on a few dates and kissed a few guys, but nothing past that. The closest you got was about a month after Tom broke it off with you. You were looking for someone to take your mind off of him, so you found a random guy named David at a pub and took him back to your place. But as soon as he took off his shirt, you saw a birthmark on his back that looked eerily similar to Tom’s, and you promptly broke down crying.

No matter what you do, you just can’t seem to get him off your mind.

"Alright bitches, we're here." Finn sighs. "Help me bring my stuff in, we don't have much time thanks to someone who took ages to get ready."

You give a halfhearted apology as you grab Finn's paintings from the back of his car. Julia stops you before you follow Finn into the venue, "Babe, are you sure you're doing alright?"

You smile lightly, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be fine."

"Okay, if you say so. And sorry about Finn mentioning... him. It's been two years, he should know better."

"Oh, no. No, don't worry about that. It's okay. I don't care." you lie.

She gives you an encouraging nudge on the shoulder, "Hey, who knows, maybe you'll find a hottie here tonight and finally get back out there! What do you think, huh?"

"Yeah, that would be great, actually. Maybe Finn can introduce me to his friend James, I know he's pretty hot." you say just to get her off your back. You know for a fact that you won't be going home with anyone tonight, but you want to ease her conscience, so you continue to lie.

"That's the spirit! Good luck hun, love you."

"Thanks Jules, love you too." you smile.

Halfway through the gala, you already want to go home. Finn is over at the bar flirting with some guy, probably trying to get him to buy his artwork. Meanwhile, Julia has disappeared into the bathroom with her boyfriend Ollie, who she invited about thirty minutes into the event because she "got bored."

You look at your phone and realize it's already midnight, and you know the event won't be ending anytime soon. You slowly make your way over to Finn through the sea of people and tap him on the shoulder, drawing his attention away from whatever guy he's flirting with.

"Hey Y/N, how's it going with James?" he asks excitedly.

"Oh, um, it didn't work out, thanks for introducing me though. I just wanted to come tell you that I'm still not feeling well, so I think I'm gonna head home, sorry."

"Oh, okay, no problem. You're probably gonna be alone tonight though, just a heads up. Jules is going back to Ollie's for the night, and" he starts to whisper, "I think I might be going home with this hunk."

You laugh, "Okay, thanks Finn, see you tomorrow then."

"Bye babe. Do you have a ride?" he questions.

"Uh, no, I'm just gonna Uber home, it's no problem."

Finn gasps, "Not this late at night you're not! Let me drive you, hottie with a body over here can wait."

"No, no, don't let me ruin your night. I'll just call Sam then."

His eyes widen, "Like... his brother Sam?"

"Yeah, we're friends still, it's not a big deal. Trust me."

"Okay, fine. But text me when you get home, okay?"

"Okay, love you Finn, see you later." you give him a quick hug and walk outside to call Sam.

You aren't lying, you and Sam are still good friends. Back when you and Tom were together, Sam was the brother that you were closest to, and you felt that it would be unfair to cut ties with the rest of the Hollands just because Tom was a dick to you seeing as they were as much of a family to you as your own parents were, maybe even more. He was attending culinary school in the area anyway, so you decide he’s the best person to call.

As expected, he's happy to drive you home, and about ten minutes later he arrives at the venue where you are still standing outside.

"Hey Sam, I'm sorry for calling this late, but thank you so much for picking me up." you smile as you slide into the passenger seat.

"It's no problem, I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon. How've you been?"

"Fine, I guess. How about you?"

"C'mon, I know that look. Something's up with you." he pries.

"I told you on the phone, I'm just not feeling well." you lie, hoping he doesn't catch on.

"It's Tom isn't it?"

"How the fuck do you always know?"

He chuckles. "He is my brother, remember? And you're basically my sister too. I've known you both for literally my entire life, so trust me, I know when it's about him."

You sign in defeat, "I don't know why I can't get over him Sam. It's been nearly three years since we broke up, and I haven't seen him since. My roommates think I'm overreacting, and honestly, I'm starting to agree with them. I should be moved on by now, but I just can't stop thinking about him."

"Hey, hey, don't listen to them, you aren't overreacting. You and Tom were literally attached at the hip for twenty two years, and you weren't even dating for most of them. It's completely normal for you to feel like this, trust me. And I know it doesn't help much for me to say this because I've said it a million times before, but Tom's a complete dick for what he did to you. He's my brother, and I love him, but he's a dick."

"Thanks Sam. I just wish I knew why, y'know? Why, after twenty-two fucking years, he just completely cut me out of his life." you feel your eyes brimming with tears.

"I wish I could have an answer for you Y/N, I really do. But I haven't got a clue. Hell, I honestly don't even know if Tom knows why he did it."

You sigh, "Well, he must have had a reason. Plus, he seems to be doing great in Hollywood. He seems perfectly happy without me."

"You've been stalking him on Instagram, haven't you?" Sam chuckles.

You laugh, "Shut up." That's the great thing about Sam. He can always lighten up a situation, no matter how serious or how sad. Tom did the same thing, that was one of the things you liked most about him.

You and Sam sit in silence for a few minutes, until he finally breaks it. "He's not, you know."

"Huh?" you question, confused.

"He's not happy. You said he seems happy without you, but he's not. He's doing terribly, and it's not just from stress or his work. He won't admit it, but he misses you." he pauses, "I know I shouldn't be telling you this, but he asked about you the other day. About how you were doing and shit like that. I think he would take it back if he could."

You want so badly to believe him, belief that Tom actually still cares about you after all this time. But false hope is the last thing you need right now.

"Well, he can't, can he?" you say sharply, tears still threatening to flow out.

You and Sam sit in silence for the last five minutes of the ride back to your apartment. As he slows the car to a stop, Sam looks over at you sympathetically, "Look, I'm sorry if what I said made things worse. I just wanted you to know that your feelings aren't... one-sided I guess."

You know better than to yell at Sam, he was just trying to make you feel better, so instead of spitting out the sarcastic remark that was on your tongue, you manage out a half-hearted, "It's okay, thanks Sam." and shut the car door.

As soon as the door of your apartment closes behind you, all of the emotions come crashing down on you. A mixture of sadness, anger, guilt, and regret crushed your heart, smashing it into a million little pieces. It feels like two and a half years ago, when he first broke up with you, all over again. Everything was fine until Sam brought him up again, and the memories just all flooded back in. You fall to the floor, clutching your chest in pain, wishing someone was here for you. Wishing he was here for you. At the moment, it feels like you have no one. In reality, you do; you have an entire support system of people who love you so much and would do anything to protect you. But you only want him. You need him. He is the only person you have ever wanted, ever needed, and he's gone.

You want to hate him, you really do. He's caused you more pain in the past two and a half years than anyone or anything has ever caused you in your entire life. But you can't. You can never, and will never, hate him. Which makes you hate yourself.

After what feels like hours of crying, you finally calm down. There's no one at home to talk to and it's too late to call anyone at this point, so you flip on the tv. There's nothing good on Netflix or Hulu that you haven't seen yet, so you scroll through the other apps. You remember that you just got a free Apple TV subscription with your new phone, so you check to see what's on there.

And there it is. Cherry.

His face right on the screen in front of you, lighting your dark bedroom red. You know it's a bad idea and you know you'll regret it, but something draws you to watch it. You need him right now, and this is about the closest you're going to get.

It's fine at first. It's actually nice to see his face again after so long. He looks basically the same as the last time you saw him, just a little more mature. You feel good supporting him, even if he doesn't know it.

But then it's not fine. His character had just gotten into a fight with his girlfriend, so she comes to visit him in his apartment. They talk, and eventually he reveals that he joined the army and has to go away for two years.

"It's just a couple years. Just a couple years and a lifetime together." he whispers.

Then it all hits you, and you break down crying once again. You can't help but think back to that night in the treehouse, and how the conversation is so eerily similar. You wonder if Tom was thinking about it too, while he was filming the scene. Obviously, the circumstances were different, but it still makes you wonder.

You quickly shut the TV off, unable to bear it anymore. With nothing else to do, you try to sleep, but your thoughts keep you up. And as much as you try to fight it, your mind drifts back to the day you so badly want to forget. The day that it all ended.

"Hey, Tommy, what's up? I'm excited to see you tonight!" you pick up the phone. Tom is supposed to come back to London after filming his first solo Spiderman movie, and you could not be more excited to see him. It's been almost a full year since he left for America, and you miss him so much.

"Yea, uhm, about that. Plans have, er, changed a bit." you can hear the solemn tone in his voice.

"Oh no, what happened? Did your flight get delayed or something? I know there's some rough weather in Atlanta, but I didn't realize it was that bad."

"No, no, it's not that. I don't really know how to say this," he sighs, "I'm not coming home."

Your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Yeah. I'm, um, I'm staying in America for now. I found a house in LA, it's nice."

"Well when are you coming back then?" you utter in disbelief.

"Not anytime soon. I have work, so it's just easier for me to be in America. I'm sorry." his tone is stiff.

"But what about us? I miss you so much, these past few months have already been hell for me. I don't think I can survive much longer without seeing you."

No response.

"Tom, are you still there? You know I can't move in with you. I'm already enrolled in university here in London, I can't drop everything and come to America if that's what you want."

"That's not what I want." At this point he seems to have no emotion in his voice, as if he's reading directly from a script.

"So then what do you want?" you start to really worry, tears already stinging your eyes.

"I think you can probably figure that out by now, Y/N."

"Tom, no. You seriously can't be thinking-"

"Yeah, I am thinking that. You've already said that these past few months have been hell, and I'm too busy with work, so I think that's the only option."

You plead with him, "Tom, please! We can figure this out, I love you so much. We can't break up Tom, I can't lose you." You're sobbing at this point, scared to lose the one person you need the most.

"No, we can't figure this out. We have to break up, there's no other choice."

"What happened to you and me forever? That- that night in the treehouse you said you wouldn't let anything come between us!"

"We were kids, Y/N! We had no idea what our lives were going to turn out like. That was a stupid thing to say and I never should have said it, okay? You can't keep every promise you make, especially when you're eighteen. But we're mature adults now, and the mature way to handle this is to break up. Understand?" His voice is booming through your phone speaker, and it's nothing you've ever heard come from him before. He was always calm, looking for a way to work things out. But now, he's completely giving up.

"Tom, please, I-"

"No, Y/N, I don't have time for this right now, I'm sorry. Goodbye."

He hung up. He's gone.

That was the last time you spoke to him. You didn't even get to properly say goodbye, let alone see his face before he was gone forever.

Unbeknownst to you, that phone call is still, to this day, Tom's biggest regret. Almost immediately after he hung up, he wished he had never called you in the first place. He was stressed from work, he was angry at his management team for making him stay in America, but most of all he missed you. So he did the only thing he could think of to take it all away - separate himself from you. He thought that if he broke up with you, he would feel better about his career choices and he wouldn’t have to wwc:orry about missing you anymore because it would be over.

He was wrong.

Every day since then, he’s wanted to call you, text, you, or somehow contact you to apologize; explain why he did what he did and how he still loves you, still needs you, still misses you every second of his life. But he knows he can’t. You would never be able to forgive him for breaking it all off so suddenly. There’s no way in hell you could still love him after something like that.

So he’s stayed out of reach from you for good. And he hopes that maybe one day he’ll be able to move on, find someone new like you’ve probably done by now. But deep down he knows he never will.

You’re still unable to sleep, and now that it’s almost four in the morning, you decide that you probably won’t be able to for the rest of the night. Not knowing what else’s to do, you begrudgingly roll out of bed and go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. As you fill up your mug with warm water, you hear a knock at the door.

Who the fuck would be coming to your apartment this early? You suspect it’s Finn, as he always manages to forget his key. Maybe his night with the mystery bar hunk didn’t go as well as he had planned. You quickly set a tea bag in your mug and walk to open the door.

“Back so soon Fi... what the fuck.” your heart drops to your stomach.

It’s him. The same brown-haired, brown-eyed, British boy that you remember, staring down at you from outside your apartment at four in the morning.

“Hey.”

~~~~~~~~

tags: @pxkajesus @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @tomhoelland01 @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @deepestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @nevertrustapanda16 @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @idkkkkaaw @aayaissaa @pjmjams @tiredstudenttrinity @isabella-bby @hollandprkr @pure-ghost @ladykxxx08 @white-wolf1940 @runawayolives @geekgirleve @thathurtbrolol @lost-girl24 @justafangirlduh @emistrash @writingrem @hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @mathletemadison @paulaabellag @miraclesoflove @captainamirica @mlmarint @quaksonhehe @laneybobeczko-g @peterspideysense @hollandstanevans @anna-sofia

[lumosinlove]

PREVIOUSLY ON RELIC KEEL:

We get our first glimpse of Finn, who is still in Saint Clair orphanage. Finn has worked out that Crucio is being given to the orphans because it allows them to see their families again and makes them want to stay at Saint Clair so they can keep receiving it—even if it means reliving memories every day that are not their own. Finn doesn’t want that at all, and he’s been in solitary for the last week because he refuses to eat, realizing that the drug is mixed in with the food.

Luke is struggling with his mother, who seems to be delighted that Luke’s father is gone. She has completely transformed into a woman Luke doesn’t recognize, offering him alcohol, and wanting to get rid of Luke’s father’s things. Luke escapes her words, retreating to his father’s study where he can take Crucio and re-arrange the events in his own mind, making it so his father never got taken away.

Remus and Sirius, at James’ house for a movie night, have an awkward exchange in the kitchen. Remus wants to ask Sirius if he wants to go sailing with him, quickly realizing the unexplainable but seemingly unavoidable crush he’s developed on Sirius, but they get interrupted by Saint.

Saint asks Remus to help him sneak into The Hogwarts History Museum, where Remus is working for the summer, but when Remus refuses, guesses he has to take matters into his own hands.

Saint finds Luke on the grasses with the others, watching a movie. Luke wants his father’s watch, which Saint stole, back, but Saint refuses. Luke can’t believe Saint has never seen many movies, but rudely puts it up to Saint’s “fucked childhood.” They argue, and it just makes Saint quietly angrier. Saint thinks more deeply about it than he lets on, though, reflecting on people’s need to control things—a need that Crucio plays on. Saint leaves, but not after stealing the keys to Luke’s car, deciding he can control things a different way—with ancient gold from an ancient pirate ship, perhaps.

Sirius follows Saint out of the house. He can tell that he’s more on edge than usual, that he has been ever since Logan arrived. Saint won’t tell him what he wants from the museum, though—a treasure map to the Voldemort. Sirius is hurt. He’s angry at himself for liking Remus. Both Sirius and Saint, it seems, have a hard time distinguishing pity and friendship.

Leo and Logan are waiting for Saint so that they can all go to the museum together. Leo asks about Finn and finds out that Logan and Finn are in love, that they’re everything to each other. It stings Leo’s slowly developing feelings for Logan.

Remus and Sirius go to the history museum to try and thwart Saint and find out he’s working with Logan and Leo, and that they’re all after The Voldemort. Saint confesses he’s trying to help Sirius, to Sirius’ surprise. Leo wants to finish his father’s work. Logan wants Finn—but no one seems willing to help him bust Finn out. When they find the drawer where the map should be kept in the museum’s archive room, however, it’s gone, having been taken out on loan by Luke’s father, Victor Deveaux. Victor and Luke loved the tale of the treasure, too. Perhaps it has something to do with Victor being sent to jail.

They go to Luke’s house where Saint climbs through Luke’s bedroom window. Saint studies a sleeping Luke, a strange, unexpected constant—a brooding, rude, beautiful one, that is. And oh, how Saint hates letting things surprise him. Saint wakes Luke, who has taken Crucio, and plans to use his father’s watch as leverage to get Luke to help them find the map.

~

*****cw: mentions of drugs, mentions of use of drugs, mentions of past deaths, mentions of past abuse, mentions of blood*****

~

part vii

Luke’s father was standing over Remus’ shoulder, flickering as the Felix wore off, and it was really fucking with Luke’s head.

“Some fellow treasure hunters,” his father said with one of his soft smiles. “Sounds fun.”

“Sober up,” Remus’ voice filtered in. “What makes you sober up?”

“I’m not drunk.”

Luke watched Remus just shake his head at him. His father’s flickering frame was looking closely at Saint, who was picking up everything in sight.

“We both know what you are,” Remus replied. “Now, come on. Coffee? Anything I can do without waking your mom up.”

“She’s not going to wake up,” Luke rubbed his eyes. “She takes these—sleeping things, I don’t know.”

“Well—“ Remus hesitated. Behind him, Luke’s father flickered out.

“I’m fine,” Luke said. “What’s going on?”

“We’re bargaining, remember?” Saint held up Luke’s father’s watch again. “Tell me about your father, Deveaux.”

Luke blinked. “What?”

“Well, Lupin’s already told us a little. You, him, and your treasure hunting days.”

Luke looked at Remus, who looked half-guilty and half-curious. “You mean—like when we were kids?”

Luke didn’t want to tell them about the time he had spent with his father in here, just the two of them, fantasizing about gold and pirates.

“We were at the museum just now,” Remus began slowly. “Your dad loaned out a map…it’s of the Cradle. Of a, what was it, a trading post?”

The tall, blond boy standing in a corner nodded.

Remus looked back to Luke. “Have you seen it? Here?”

“A map?” Luke scrubbed his hand over his face again. “What fucking time is it?”

“Oh, he’s swearing,” Saint said as he opened another drawer. “He’s back.”

“Fuck—” Luke clamped his mouth shut. He turned away from Saint and fully towards Remus. Sirius and another dark haired boy were standing near the blond one. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Treasure?”

Remus winced. “Like the Voldemort.”

“The—what? He was never serious about that stuff,” Luke replied. “It was just for fun.”

“And yet he takes it upon himself to acquire an ancient document,” Saint piped up from behind him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luke said again over his shoulder.

“Um—“

Luke looked towards the blond boy, who had taken a hesitant step forward.

“I know what it looks like. My dad had a copy.”

“A true father’s affair,” Saint mumbled.

“What?” Luke asked for what felt like the one hundredth time.

“If we could just look around—” the blond began.

“You come here at ass o’clock in the morning to look around may dad’s study? For a treasure map that your dad has?”

“Used to have,” the blond’s eyes went colder. “His version was lost with him and his boat.”

Luke swallowed, eyes drifting away from the other boy’s blue ones. He looked back to Remus. They used to spend hours playing pirate when they were younger. Remus looked like he was remembering those hours, too.

Luke only had to blink for that golden-edged memory to mingle with the hours Remus had held Luke close in Luke’s bed, letting Luke soak his t-shirt through when they’d taken his dad away.

“Why do you think my dad has it?” Luke said now. “What do you mean loaned?”

“We went looking for it at the museum just now,” Remus explained. “Well—not not we. Saint stole your car—”

Luke looked back at Saint. “I’m aware.”

Saint flashed a smile.

“—and went with Logan,” Remus pointed to the somber looking brunette, “and Leo,” the cold-eyed blond, “to more or less, God, break into the museum archives. If they’re going to find the treasure—which, in my opinion, they’re not—they need—”

“A map,” Luke said, then scoffed out a laugh. “You guys are fucking crazy.”

Remus ran a hand through his hair. “Look, none of this was my idea, but your dad’s name was on the loan card. If it’s here, it's here, and then they’ll take the picture they need and we can all leave. I mean, shit, I have work at seven tomorrow morning, guys.”

Luke let out a long breath. He was tired, from being woken up and from the Felix, and he frankly wanted Saint to stop messing with his father’s things.

He nodded at Remus. “You can look around. And I will. The rest of you, don’t fucking—” he snatched one of his father’s fountain pens out of Saint’s hands. “touch anything.”

Saint just tiled his head defiantly. Luke couldn’t help but hold his gaze for a moment, remembering waking up to those syrupy eyes and feeling—he didn’t know what. Like he was standing on the edge of the Howler cliffs, above a storm-warmed, rough ocean. Saint’s hand had been in his hair, and it had been ever so gentle, unlike the rest of him. His words were tough, and, from what Luke could tell by his own jabs at Saint, so was his skin. He guessed a kid didn’t grow up the way Saint had without at least a little armor—Saint was practically drowning in his own.

As if Luke could talk. Luke looked away and gestured towards Remus. “Let’s get this over with.”

Luke opened drawers and cabinets. He looked through stacks of paper and under dressers. He checked the den, even, just in case, but there was nothing. Everything was orderly—and even more, the police had taken so much. Any paper they could get their hands on. His mom wouldn’t tell him what they were looking for, and neither would the lawyers that occasionally came to the house.

But there was no map.

Luke began to double check, if only at Remus’ insistence, but he was at a loss. There were only so many places—

“What’s your birthday, tweedle?” Saint said suddenly.

“What does that have to do—” Luke began as he turned, but his words died in his throat when he saw Saint.

Luke’s father had had the old map of Hogwarts framed and hanging in his study ever since Luke could remember. He knew its markings as well as he knew the island as it was today. Saint had it tilted to the side, revealing a sliver of sleek steel. A safe.

“I told you not to touch anything,” Luke said breathlessly. He hadn’t known about that safe. He’d stared at that map a thousand times and he hadn’t known. Did his mother know? The lawyers?

“I bet you one of Leo here’s best breakfast sandwiches that the map’s in here,” Saint replied, nodding to the frame. “Little bit of an X marks the spot, don’t you think? Now,” Saint reached for the painting and unhooked it smoothly, setting it on the ground to reveal the neat square metal sunken into the wall with a dial in the center. “Tell me your birthday.”

“Why do you think the combination is my birthday?”

Saint rolled his eyes. “Because you’re his son. Fathers do that. Don’t they?”

Saint asked the last part like he was trying to be sure, but wasn’t.

“January first,” Luke replied.

Saint hummed as he leaned in. “New year, new you, huh?”

Luke just swallowed dryly as he listened to the dial tick. It felt so loud in the room that was now holding its breath. It felt like it lasted forever, but, finally, the safe opened with a gentle click.

“Damn, Saint,” Sirius said softly.

“I know, I’m so good,” Saint said, and made to push the door open when Luke pushed forward and grabbed his hand. Saint’s fingers were warm in his own. Saint raised an eyebrow.

“Like you said,” Luke still felt breathless. “I’m his son. I’m doing this.”

Saint raised his free hand in surrender until Luke let go, and he backed away. Luke faced the safe. He felt the Felix in him all over again, though it was long gone. He felt his father, smelled his cigars. Luke reached for the door, too aware of the four pairs of eyes on him, and pulled it open.

It was relatively empty. There were papers that looked like they had once bound money, but lay ripped and lifeless now. There was a case of expensive cigars.

And there was an envelope with Luke’s name on it.

“There’s a letter,” Luke said faintly, picking it up. “For me.”

He looked up at Remus, and Remus nodded.

“Like the clues he would leave us?” Remus said quietly.

Luke went for the seal—only to have it snatch out of his hands.

He looked up, eyes wide, and found the unfamiliar brunette—Logan, Remus had said—staring back at him, at all of them, with wild green eyes.

“Logan,” Leo said, voice filled with surprise. “What the hell are you—”

But Logan just backed up towards the door. There was a familiar click, and the flame of a lighter appeared in his other hand.

“Hey—” Luke stepped forward, panicked, but Saint’s palm pushed against his chest.

“Don’t,” Saint said softly, for Luke’s ears only.

“That’s mine,” Luke snarled, shoving Saint away.

“Yeah, well I have something I want, too,” Logan snapped, and then looked at Saint. He held the flame closer to the envelope. “You want to know what this says? Then—”

“So do you, Logan,” Saint said. “You need that money. You know you do. The Carrows know it, too.”

“You owe me something first. I want Finn.”

“I don’t owe you,” Saint replied evenly. “I don’t owe anyone. That’s kind of my general idea in life, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Logan faltered, and the flame slipped close enough to the envelope to make smoke trail, but when Luke stepped forward, Logan took another step back. He looked small, framed by the grand desk and leather chairs. Small and scared.

“You left us in there,” he finally whispered, and Luke thought he heard Saint’s breathing stop and hold, like a punch to the gut.

“He was seven years old,” Sirius growled, and Luke didn’t know what they were talking about, was done waiting.

“Do you know the last time I talked to my dad?” Luke said, voice raising. He glanced upstairs, careful of his mother despite her pills, and dropped it to a deadly whisper again. “He’s not allowed calls. Not until the investigation’s over. This could—” Luke hesitated at putting his wildest, most desperate hope into words. “This could prove he’s—”

“Do you think I give a shit about the last time you talked to your daddy?” Logan snarled just as harshly. “When’s the last time I talked to mine? Oh. Right.”

“Please,” Luke heard the word rip out of his throat before he could help it, but Logan wasn’t even looking at him. Logan’s eyes were on Saint.

“Help me get Finn out. The windows are barred now. There are alarms, I’ve seen them.”

“I didn’t use a window,” Saint replied.

“Then show me how you did it.”

“You won’t be able to get in the way I got out.”

“Then do it for me.”

If Luke was begging, so was Logan.

“Fuck, I’ll help you,” Luke shouted. “Just don’t. Please. My father—”

“You don’t know shit about Saint Clair,” Logan snapped, then looked back at Saint. “We both know where he is. Why I haven’t seen him. Saint—”

“All right,” Saint said, voice calm. His brown eyes reminded Luke of stormy seas, ruddy with stirred up sand. “All right, Logan. Just don’t burn the letter.”

“Promise,” Logan said.

Saint laughed, cold and clear. “What has a promise ever meant to either of us? I said I would. Take it or leave it.”

There was a terrifying moment in which Luke worried that the letter would go up in flames anyway. That he would never know what his father had wanted him to have, wanted him to know. He didn’t know Logan, didn’t trust him.

The lighter clicked off and Logan held out the envelope. Luke took it and gave Logan a shove towards the door for good measure.

“Get out,” he said. “Get out of my house.”

“What does the letter say?” Logan replied firmly. “It could be about the map.”

Luke laughed, and it rang a close twin to Saint’s in his own ears. “You should have thought about that before you held it hostage for your orphan friend.”

Logan took a step forward, mouth opening to protest, but Luke was bigger than him, stronger and taller. He met him chest to chest.

“I said get out.”

“Logan,” Saint sighed. “Listen to him.”

Leo stepped forward then, a gentle hand on Logan’s fiery frame. Logan simmered for another moment, but let Leo lead him from the room, lighter still clutched in his fist. Remus followed them with a whispered, I’m sorry that Luke barely heard.

He faintly heard Saint say something to Sirius, who followed Remus.

Saint, the only one left in the room now, looked at Luke steadily. Luke expected some sort of joke, or a snarky remark about the desperation Luke had shown—something he tried to never let slip through. He didn’t care what it was. He just wanted to be alone, to have this room feel like his father’s again. Instead of a crime scene. Instead of a lead, or a pin-point on a map. Just his father’s familiar room.

Instead Saint tossed him something that shone—his keys.

“Let us know, if you want,” Saint said simply, and held the gold watch out. Luke took it with shaking fingers, watching him go.

Then, he looked down at the letter, at his name in his father’s familiar scrawl. He peeled back the seal with a lump forming in his throat.

~

Remus’ steps slowed to a stop when he saw who was waiting for him at the end of his dock in the five-AM light.

Sirius had his flip-flops beside him, his feet dangling over the edge into the water, the Wolfsbane rocking gently in the early morning waves to his left.

“Sirius?” Remus called, more so that the first thing Sirius felt wasn’t the shaking of his footsteps than anything else.

Sirius jerked around, startled either way, and scrambled to stand.

“Hi,” he said. “Or, morning.”

“Morning,” Remus laughed a little, glancing at the boat. “I…is this you taking me up on my offer?”

Sirius ran a hand through his thick black hair. “Ah, well, I’m here to say sorry about last night. Dragging you into it and all. That wasn’t fair of Saint, but he’s…I don’t know what he is right now. I usually do but…not this time, I guess.”

Remus nodded, trying to buy himself time to figure out what to say. He stepped onto his boat and took a rope in hand, just for something to do. To hold onto. Sirius had spoken the words plainly enough. There was nothing about Saint and himself being together, but Remus still sensed some sort of intimacy that wasn’t quite friendship, just as he had at the museum.

“It’s okay,” Remus said. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

Sirius’ smile was a small, relieved one. “I guess so. Still. He was on some sort of mission. He still hasn’t told me anything, so.”

Remus leaned back from stowing his phone and keys securely in a hatch. “He doesn’t seem like the type of person you can really get things out of.”

“That’s true,” Sirius laughed, and it was easier this time. “Anyway, I’ll let you…I just wanted to say.”

Remus wanted to ask again, if Sirius would come with him, but Sirius was already backing away and so Remus just nodded.

“Thanks.”

He turned after he said it, breathing in the ocean air and trying to still himself, to let the familiarity of his boat and sails wash over him. He would find someone. Maybe they weren’t Sirius Black. Maybe they just weren’t here. Maybe he’d fall in love on the water, or in a classroom, or—

“Can I?” Remus heard Sirius say, and turned to look. Sirius had stopped half way down the dock.

Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Take you up on your offer?”

Remus smiled, even if his hope at Sirius’ words paired with the thought of Saint made his heart a little tender.

“Of course you can,” Remus said.

Sirius jogged towards him with a grin of his own, but he paused before he stepped onto the Wolfsbane, looking down. Remus wondered for a moment if it was the gap over the water, but Sirius had said he sailed, too, he’d said—

Remus understood. He unmoored the nose. “Get that rope back there if you finally want to do something other than watch.”

Sirius jumped to unknot the rope with ease, and then stepped onto the waves beside Remus, using one of his feet to push them away from the dock. Remus let them drift a moment, feeling for the wind. It was quiet for now, but he could see rougher waves out past the point.

“Is it just yours?” Sirius asked as he watched Remus with the tiller.

“Yep, birthday present,” Remus patted the side. “My baby.”

Sirius smiled. “It’s a beautiful boat.”

The wind began to pick up as they got farther from the land, pushing towards the open water. Remus’ heart seemed to pick up with it and, glancing at Sirius, who looked contemplative and—well, beautiful—Remus didn’t think it was merely the sea’s doing.

Remus had never thought too much about Sirius Black. Sirius had been there one day, gone the next, and in the run-ins at James’ house once Sirius had started working there, he had been a suddenly handsome face. Grown into himself and strong from his outdoor work. In turn, Remus always became suddenly awkward around the boy who obviously didn’t like Gods. He and James poked fun at each other, he and Luke were downright hostile, and Remus didn’t know where he fit in.

He hoped the water and the Wolfsbane would do some talking for him, and maybe some listening, too.

They didn’t speak as they began to fly. The pontoons skimmed the waves and the wind would have snatched their voices away, but Remus swore he heard Sirius laugh.

Sirius knew how to sail, too. He breathed it all in, just as Remus did, and they worked together, balancing and pulling and leaning out to trace their fingers along the water’s surface. It felt as warm as a bath against the cool air.

Remus didn’t let them go too far out, he had to be back, but he would have. He would have sailed right to the horizon with Sirius without looking back.

As the wind died down, as they turned around, Remus felt something different. Like a wind change between the two of them. They grinned at each other, flushed with it, and as the wind cut down more, as they past the point, Sirius’ turned self-conscious but it didn’t disappear like before.

The boat settled into a glide towards the shore. Remus let his feet dangle in the water.

“So, the treasure,” Remus asked, because Sirius looked hesitant to talk, sitting there soundly on the other side of the boat. “Do you think it’s real?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sirius replied, and Remus laughed. “But if Saint thinks it’s worth it…I’ll try to go along with it.”

Remus nodded, taking that in. Saint. The mention of him slowed his heart back to a glide along with the boat. Remus cleared his throat and Sirius looked back at him from the horizon questioningly.

“What was that thing with—Logan? I mean, you don’t have to tell me but…”

Sirius took a long breath. “Logan has someone, Finn, inside Saint Clair. Finn helped him escape. And I don’t know if it’s guilt that’s making him help to get Finn out, or something more, but…Saint's the one who can help.”

“Because he escaped.”

Sirius nodded. “Right.”

“Is it complicated?” Remus asked. “Like, is he worried he won’t be able to do it twice?”

Sirius shook his head. “It’s not complicated.”

He was silent for a moment, and Remus didn't want to push him. He waited, seeing if Sirius would continue.

“Saint walked right out the front door,” Sirius finally finished, and looked at Remus. “I think he’s worried because it wasn’t a grand escape, even if he tells it that way. Even if he makes it seem like he climbed walls or something. He’s worried because…because it was a fluke. Sometimes there are doors you can’t walk back through.”

Sirius said the last sentence heavily, as if he had a door of his own. Remus guessed that maybe everyone did.

“So, what’s he going to do for Finn and Logan?”

Sirius just shook his head again. “I have no idea. But I’ll help him in any way that I can.” Half a smile raised Sirius’ mouth. “If he lets me.”

~

“No.”

“Tell me,” Sirius demanded. Saint just rolled his eyes and popped a sweet potato fry into his mouth.

“Tell us,” Dorcas cut in from her place beside Marlene.

“Right,” Sirius said. “Sorry.”

“Saint,” Marlene sighed. “If you’re not going to tell us, it’ll make us think you have no plan at all.”

“Who invited the God?” Saint said airily.

“My girlfriend,” Dorcas scuffed the back of his head.

“Not for long she’s not,” Saint replied, and at Dorcas and Marlene’s expressions, waved a hand. “Come on. She’s going to college, Dor, you’re not…don’t tell me you haven’t talked about it.”

“We—” Dorcas began, but flushed and closed her mouth. Sirius glanced at Marlene, whose eyes were firmly down towards her burger.

“Stop trying to change the subject,” Sirius sighed.

“I’m not, I’m just telling everyone what to expect.”

“Saint,” Sirius leaned forward. “How are you going to get Finn out of Saint Clair? You said last time—”

Saint cut in quickly, “I say a lot of things to you that are just for you, Black.”

“Well, I don’t know what to do with what you said,” Sirius replied. “Come on. Please. Is it because you don’t know? Is that why you won’t say anything?”

Saint stayed quiet, looking down at his food. “I know. We’ll just have to see if it works.”

“Saint,” Dorcas leaned forward and Saint turned his palm up for her hand. He knew they were trying to help. “Babe, we just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You mean you want to make sure it’s not too insane.”

Sirius nodded. “That, too.”

“Can’t you just rest assured that I’m doing this for myself, too?” Saint said. “I’ll get Finn out, Logan will calm the fuck down, and maybe Luke will let us know about the treasure.”

“Who gives a fuck about this treasure?” Dorcas said harshly.

“It probably doesn’t even exist,” Sirius added.

“You want off this island, like you said? Then you give a fuck.”

Sirius began to shake his head. “It’s not—” he said, but Saint pushed on, voice raising.

“We’ll get Finn out, we’ll get Luke’s help, we’ll get the map, we’ll find my mom—”

Saint stopped talking, frozen by the words that had ripped out of him of their own accord.

Sirius, Dorcas, and Marlene’s eyes were wide. Pity. The word seemed to hang in the air.

“The treasure, I meant,” Saint managed. “We’ll find the treasure and…”

“Saint…” Dorcas said, and when he looked at her…Pity. “Do you know where she is?”

Saint was furious with himself for the slip. He was looking for Sirius. He wanted the treasure for Sirius, he didn’t need it for himself. He didn’t need anything, especially not people who left. Not his mom, not Sirius.

“I don’t need help with Saint Clair,” Saint said and pushed his chair back, leaving them staring at each other across the table.

~

Saint hadn’t let any of them come. He didn’t want anyone here to see him tremble and shake at doing the one thing he had always promised himself he would never do. The one thing he didn’t think he could do.

But, thinking about it, the trick wasn’t getting out. Anyone could walk out the door. The nuns needed it that way, for business. For the appearance of normalcy. The real trick was getting inside without being let in. The way to keep secrets, after all, wasn’t keeping everyone out. Walls begged to be breached. The secret was to filter the truth. Let people see half, a quarter, or different parts at different times. The trick was getting in to see the whole picture.

Maybe Saint was half of Saint Clair, keeping his cards close to his chest.

The offices. He needed to get the the offices, and then he needed to get to Finn. In and out—just not through the door this time.

“What’s the plan?” said a voice just behind him, and Saint closed his eyes.

Sirius.

“I told you not to come,” Saint said.

“And I told me yes,” Sirius parroted. They rolled their eyes at each other even as Sirius rested a gentle hand over Saint’s where it was clenched over his own knee. They crouched beside each other, staring at Saint Clair in the darkness. It was two in the morning, maybe a little past it now, and Saint wanted everyone to be asleep.

He looked towards the chimney. It was wide and old fashioned. It would be too hot for them to be using it tonight.

“Jesus Christ,” Sirius sighed, following his gaze.

“The windows are barred. The doors are alarmed. I’ve cleaned that thing, I know it’s big.”

“Yeah, everything looks big to a seven year old,” Sirius countered.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

“And getting out?” Sirius asked.

“Alarms don’t go off if you open the door from the inside. There’s a kitchen door around the back. We’ll use it. We just have to get in.”

Sirius nodded slowly, and then asked, “Your mom?”

Saint pressed his lips together. He needed to get to the office, and then to Finn, and then out.

He started forward towards the drain pipe, just like on Luke’s house, and didn’t look to see if Sirius was following him.

~

Marlene didn’t like seeing that contemplating look at Dorcas’ face. Dorcas was chewing on her lip, eyes staring at the movie playing on Marlene’s laptop, but she was somewhere else entirely. Marlene put her pencil down at wiggled her toes, which were in Dorcas’ lap. Dorcas blinked and looked at her.

“Don’t listen to Saint,” Marlene said. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

But even saying that ate at her. Marlene thought of the acceptance email, of California and Berkeley, buried in her inbox right now. Tell her, said everything inside, but Dorcas already had that look on her face. The worrying, I-want-everything-that’s-good-for-you-regardless-of-what-it-means-for-me-or-us look.

Marlene didn’t want to see that look. She’d seen it the first time her father had banned her from seeing a Salazar girl. They had been fifteen and Dorcas had offered to stop, and Marlene had kissed the idea right out of her mouth, right out of existence.

This was different. She couldn’t kiss college away. She didn’t want to. But she also wanted Dorcas, and California felt far, far away.

Dorcas chewed on her lip some more, then rubbed a soothing thumb over Marlene’s ankle. “We haven’t really talked about it, though.”

“I know,” Marlene said softly. She pushed herself up and set her sketchbook aside before reaching over to close the laptop, cutting the actor off in mid-sentence. “I guess I’m sort of…avoiding it.”

“We are, you mean,” Dorcas offered her a small smile. “I…I know we said we wanted to just have our summer, and I do want that. But I think I would feel better knowing what you think. About, you know…about when you do start hearing back.”

Marlene looked down as she whispered, “I got into Berkeley.”

A short sucked-out sound of silence filtered in between them for a moment. Marlene looked up.

“I should have said,” Marlene sighed. “I know I should have. I just…”

“Sweetheart,” Dorcas sighed, and then Marlene was pressed back onto the bed, Dorcas’ hard kisses bringing a hot blush to her cheeks. “That’s amazing.”

Marlene hummed against Dorcas’ mouth, a sad-happy sound, and wound her fingers into her hair as Dorcas kissed along her jaw. “It can be as amazing as it wants, but it’s really far away. And you like it here, and—”

“I like you,” Dorcas said, and pushed herself onto her forearms so she could look down at Marlene. “Marls, the question about us was never a debate about you following your dreams and going to college, just like you want. The question lies with me. I don’t know how to pull off following you yet, but I’m working on it.”

Marlene looked up at her and felt tears join the heat within, felt her voice wobble. “I’ll miss you. I want you to be safe, and I want you to be with me.”

Dorcas’ kiss was softer this time. “Me too.”

Marlene enjoyed it for a moment, relief bubbling in her chest, until Dorcas began laughing into her mouth.

“Maybe the boys will find that treasure and give me a piece of it.”

Marlene laughed, too. “God, if that’s our best option…”

They wound tighter together, snuggling down into Marlene’s quilt. Dorcas pressed her forehead against Marlene’s.

“Whatever I can do, I’ll do it,” Dorcas said. “I want you, wherever we are.”

Marlene just kissed her again.

~

Sirius was noisier on the climb than Saint would have liked, but they made it to the slanted roof without trouble, standing on its apex to stare down into the soot-dark.

“Is this really going to work?” Sirius whispered.

“It could.”

“Why not climb the fence? Maybe that door is open.”

“Too loud.”

“Why didn’t you let Logan come with us?”

Saint huffed out an annoyed breath. “Because if this goes wrong, what Finn did was for nothing. If this goes really wrong, at least there would still be one of us on the outside who knows what it looks like inside,” Saint stared out at the trees and bit of coast they could see by moonlight from here. “One of us who doesn’t return every night, that is.”

Saint went down the chimney first, one step at a time. The stones and rusted iron rungs provided easy enough footholds, they just had to hope no one was having a midnight cup of tea when they reached the bottom. He looked up once, blinking through the fine grit of ash that seemed to hang in the air, at Sirius’ face, the silver moonlight like a halo around his dark hair.

And Saint kept climbing down. He went slowly, listening hard. If someone was down there, they’d hear him, and then he’d hear them, and he could scramble back up the chimney and out of sight. Once he was down, however, who knew what they would do to keep him that way. He could practically taste the heavy sleep of Crucio, and his stomach rolled against the images it brought back. The many different families—fathers, siblings, and mothers. So many mothers that he didn’t even know which had been his own anymore.

He hated them for it. He hated them for thinking he wanted that.

Saint’s trembling foot slipped on the last hold and he tumbled out, only barely withholding a cry as the log holders scraped heavily across his side.

“Saint,” came Sirius’ harsh whisper from above him, and Saint waved a hand beneath the flue to show he was okay, then pushed himself up from the now ashy floor, gripping his side.

He knew this room too well. He knew it through the over-active eyes of a five year old. He knew it through the only slightly more alert gaze of his seven year old self.

It was smaller than he remembered. Shabbier than it had seemed then, with its hard couches and children’s books, its desk by the window that still held a letter opener that he had eyed a few times, wondering if he could fight his way out like heroes did in the books he read. Now, he willed all to stay quiet as he walked over and picked up the dull knife. He hated the sight of it.

Sirius came after him, more smartly, landing feet first.

“You could have fucking impaled yourself,” Sirius whispered.

“I didn’t, though,” Saint said, and looked at his ribs. The cuts stung, but the bleeding didn’t look too bad, just enough to dot uneven lines across his t-shirt.

Sirius lifted his shirt to see, and passed a careful thumb near the worst of them, his other a familiar weight on the side of Saint’s neck.

“Let’s go,” Saint whispered.

“Wait,” Sirius said, and turned Saint’s gaze gently to meet his own.

“We don’t have all the time in the world,” Saint began, but Sirius just shook his head, silencing him.

“Listen to me,” Sirius whispered. “All right? Just this once. Just listen to me.”

Saint closed his eyes briefly. “We don’t have time to talk.”

That only succeeded in bringing Sirius’ other hand to his cheek. “If something goes wrong, you just run.” Sirius reached down and took the knife, setting it back on the desk. “Don’t think about me. They can’t keep me.”

“They’ll give you to your parents,” Saint warned.

“I don’t care,” Sirius said. “They can’t keep me. They could try to keep you and I won’t let that happen.”

Saint looked up at Sirius. The only person he could ever remember caring. Saint didn’t like that a side effect of being cared about was caring back, didn’t like that risk…but he liked Sirius.

“You’re leaving anyway,” Saint said. “It doesn’t matter where I am.”

“I never said that and you’re wrong.”

“But you will say it.”

Saint turned away, keeping a hand laced with Sirius’ to pull him towards the dorms. He knew the words sounded accusing and regretful, but he only half meant them that way. Sirius deserved to go.

Sirius didn’t respond. It wasn’t the moment, and they needed to listen for other things.

The dorms came up on their left. Boys to one side of the hall, girls to the other. Saint paused, looking in.

You’ll sleep here with the rest of the boys, Sebastian. Be a good boy and make your bed every morning and you’ll get a treat with breakfast. Chocolate milk, how does that sound?

“Was this you?” Sirius whispered, and Saint shrugged.

“I slept all over this place,” Saint breathed to Sirius. “I’d sneak into the other dorms, the attic, the reading room. I was just…” Saint turned away, unable to stand the softly rising and falling chests of the boys within. “I was just trying to find a place where I felt like myself. Maybe it wasn’t the place, though.”

Maybe it was the dreams. Maybe the drug.

“Maybe it’s just me,” Saint said.

Grimmauld was the closest he had ever gotten, the most settled he’d ever felt. He loved the ocean, and his gold draped vanity, and Sirius always beside him. But there was still—something. A misplaced, tweaked something inside of him that was feeling around in the dark for a comfortable position. Saint didn’t even know what he was looking for, but he did know that it was too dark to find it right now. Sirius had been the first gleam of bright, a pin-prick of a star, a friend, a lover, and a safe place. But stars weren’t a moon or a sun. He needed light to see.

“Let’s go,” Saint said. “This way.”

They walked the halls carefully, listening after nearly every step. Saint knew that the nuns slept at the other end of the house, but that they woke to check in on the children. He couldn’t remember when, though. With the Crucio, his young age, and the late hour, the nights had felt the same and endless. He’d shuffled around like a small ghost, trying to escape the unfamiliar dream-faces. They’d only caught him a few times. A slap on the wrist. Solitary.

That’s why he nearly jumped when they heard the first footsteps. He was seven again, haunting this place and being haunted in return. Saint froze, eyes on the bend in the hallway.

“Here,” Sirius whispered, and together they ducked into a room—the offices, Saint realized—and behind the open wooden door. They huddled together, barely daring to breathe as the footsteps got closer.

“Sirius,” Saint breathed, and didn’t realize he was trembling again until Sirius’ arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Shh,” Sirius hushed him.

The footsteps passed right by them, towards the kitchen, Saint realized, and Sirius pressed Saint against him more tightly, no doubt feeling the dry pants that his breathing had turned into. They would be caught. They would be seen. Saint hid his face in Sirius’ neck.

Don’t be a waste of space, boy. Line up, after number six, come on.

He took up too much space here.

Try that again, Sebastian, and you know what happens.

Saint hated that name. He couldn’t remember who had given him that name. His mother? The nuns? What was a name if it was just a number, too? A way to keep track of him. A way to tell him what he was. Orphan boy. Five. Six. Seven. Abandoned. Good. Bad. Asleep. Awake.

Go to sleep now, there’s a good boy.

The hall was silent again and Saint felt Sirius’ embrace ease, felt his hand running soothingly along his spine.

“I’ve got you,” Sirius said the words so quietly they were barely words at all. “Let’s just go. Let’s get out of here.”

“Finn,” Saint rasped.

Saint looked up and saw the protest in Sirius’ eyes. It was wrong of Logan to make you come here.

“I told him to stay away,” Saint said softly. “I needed to come. I needed to come and get out again.”

Saint needed to get rid of some of this damned dark.

Saint pulled away from Sirius carefully and peaked around the door with a dry swallow before walking over to the cabinets. Records. They weren’t in alphabetical order, though. They were numbered.

Saint fingered his cross, looking towards 1-20.

7.

He traced a finger over a key hole dejectedly, and tried the handle anyway. Locked.

“Saint,” Sirius breathed. “Your mom?”

Saint shook his head, clutching his necklace. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I didn’t know you wanted…”

“I don’t,” Saint snapped. “Let’s get Finn.”

The door to solitary was one that Saint knew well. It was a normal door, and the room beyond was a normal room. It was the memories that made it unbearable to see. Almost every kid Saint had known knew what it meant to be in that room. Alone, the wallpaper flowers withered, the bed turned cold, and the ever-changing family members flickered through your mind without anything to counter it. No reality. There was a glass window with the shade pulled. Saint hesitated for a long moment before lifting it up.

“Finn,” he breathed.

Finn’s red hair was fiery against the white bed spread. He was asleep, and Saint swore he could see Finn’s eyelids flicker from here.

Saint wrapped his fingers carefully around the door. The trick was getting in to see the whole picture.

Everything in Saint Clair felt locked from within. Everything in Saint did, too. It had taken years of wandering around at night for Saint to discover that he could open more doors than he had thought. He was still trying doors eight years alter.

The hinges didn’t so much as squeak, and Saint felt like a ghost again.

“Don’t let this close on me,” Saint whispered to Sirius. His voice shook and just one of his feet just barely breaching the threshold.

Sirius held the frame fast and shook his head, leaning forward to press a steady kiss to Saint’s forehead.

Saint crossed the small room in two slow steps and knelt beside the bed, the motion making the punctures on his torso ache. He pressed a hand to Finn’s cheek and stroked a gentle thumb across the freckles on his skin until Finn stirred.

“Bash,” Finn murmured, eyes barely open.

“Hi, Finn,” Saint said softly and gathered Finn into a sloppy sitting position. “Let’s get you out of here, huh? See if you’re worth all of this fucking trouble.”

“Crucio,” was Finn’s only half-spoken reply. “They make it.”

And then Finn went limp again in Saint’s arms.

~

All Logan could taste was sour guilt, despite the heaven Leo had placed on a plate in front of him not too long ago.

For Saint. For Leo. For the letter and even Luke. For the map. The treasure. The Carrows.

Finn.

His heart ached with the thought of seeing him. Of holding him.

“Why weren’t we allowed to go with him?” Logan asked Leo for what he knew was the tenth time, but he couldn’t help it. “I asked him to help me, not go for me.”

“It’s easier to get one person in and out than two?” Leo said. He was puttering around the small kitchen, had been for the last hour, and the entire house smelled like sugar and cinnamon now, replacing the herbs, lemon, and chicken. He didn’t look at Logan when he said it.

He hadn’t looked at Logan much at all since the night at the museum.

Logan watched him taste a bit of what looked like frosting and wet his lips.

“Are you mad at me?” Logan whispered.

Leo’s restless hands paused. Logan watched his chest rise and fall once.

“I’m not mad,” Leo said finally. The heat of the oven had fluffed out his hair. “I mean, I’m not sure if we reached a dead-end or not…and you could have told me you were going to do that. I said I would help you, didn’t I?”

“I needed Ba—Saint,” Logan replied. “But I also…I should have told you. And I shouldn’t have made Saint go. I just want…he’s my family. Finn is my…”

“I understand why you did it,” Leo cut in softly. “I probably would have done worse if I thought that there was something that could save my dad.”

That just made Logan feel even smaller, sitting at the table. Leo glanced at him, gave him a tight smile, then went to the sink and began scrubbing dishes.

“Hey,” Logan said, then rose and strode over to Leo. “Hey, let me clean up.”

“I just need something to do,” Leo said shortly.

“Me, too.”

They stood, their shoulders pressed together. Logan washed. Leo dried. He slipped cinnamon rolls into the oven and then returned. They kept close to each other at the sink and it felt…so normal. Like a home. Leo felt like a home.

“I never really thanked you properly,” Logan said into the now more comfortable silence. “For letting me stay with you. And—I just want to say, and now with Finn…I understand if you want us to leave. I mean, three’s a crowd.”

“You’re welcome here,” Leo said quickly. Logan watched his throat bob. He was looking away again. “You should do what feels best for you, but you’re both welcome here. Just—”

Leo paused, and Logan found himself suddenly desperate to hear what he had to say. He knew he hadn’t been friendly all the time. He knew he’d been selfish. Leo had been nothing but kind. He was funny and warm, teaching Logan how to weld two pieces of metal, talking about the latest book he was reading while he whisked batter and handed Logan different new recipes he was trying out.

Finn would like Leo, Logan thought, and glanced towards the door. Maybe he was about to find out.

“Never mind,” Leo said, and flashed a smile.

Logan went to protest, but then his phone began buzzing madly on the table and he all but lunged for it.

~

Luke stared down at his father’s handwriting.

Luke, it began. And then there was a name.

Pascal Dumais.

There was no mention of himself. There was nothing. Luke had thought this would make him feel better, make it easier. Only, now, he was frustrated to the point of tears. He couldn’t seem to ease the lump that was lodged in his throat. He clutched the paper in his fingers hard enough to tear, willing something else to appear on it. He thought of Felix.

“Well?” said a voice from his window.

“Oh—” Luke flinched, surprised, then cursed at Saint, who was stretched out on his window sill. “Come on. Are you kidding me?”

Saint’s mouth twitched up in a smile, but it was strained. He was sitting awkwardly, tense rather than his usual languid posture.

“What’s wrong with you?” Luke asked hesitantly, trying to discreetly wipe at his face.

“What isn’t?”

Luke spotted the blood between Saint’s fingers and rose. “You’re hurt.”

“I fell down a chimney.”

“Is that a joke?”

“No.”

Luke blinked. “That’s how you got into Saint Clair? And you climbed to my window?”

Saint pulled himself all the way through the window with a soft groan and Luke walked forward, hands hovering near Saint’s shoulders, unsure if he should help.

“The orphan?” he asked instead, then at Saint’s sharp look, “Finn?”

“Sirius is bringing him to Grimmauld.”

“What’s Grimmauld?”

Saint sat down heavily in Luke’s desk chair, hand still pressed to his side. He had what looked like soot on his hands and face. “A place.” He picked up a book. Jane Eyre. “Didn’t take you for a romantic.”

“You’re bleeding all over my room.”

“Lucky you.”

Luke tucked the note into the pocket of his shorts. “Fuck—come here. Jesus.”

He walked into his bathroom and jammed the light switch up, looking back when Saint didn’t follow him. “Come here.”

Saint rose, still holding the book. “I am coming!” Saint quoted, head tilted in a way that made his neck look long. “Wait for me! Oh, I will come!”

“Very funny,” Luke sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a reader.”

“Why?” Saint said as he stepped out of the darkness of the bedroom and into the yellow-lighted bathroom. His brown eyes took on the soft yellow, too, and he leaned forward as he pushed himself up onto the counter carefully. “Because I don’t buy my books and,” Saint looked down at the book, flipping through it. “Write all over them like you do?”

“Because you didn’t go to school,” Luke said with a raised eyebrow as he ducked for the first aid kit beneath his sink. It was good to have one near during the lacrosse season—or it used to be.

Saint rolled his eyes. “You Gods and your single paths in life. You’re all stupid.”

“Then why are you here?” Luke asked as he unlatched the kit.

“Because this is the last place anyone would look for me,” Saint replied. “And you’re mean.”

“Mean? Are we in seventh grade?” Luke scoffed as he wet a towel in the sink. “I don’t know if it’s healthy to want to be around people who you think are mean to you."

“I just don’t want to talk about it,” Saint said. “And that’s all Sirius will want to do. And I don’t want to. And we don’t have this shit at Grimmauld.”

“Is that where you live?”

Saint just set the book down and reached behind himself to tug his shirt over his head. Luke tried not to stare at Saint’s smooth, light brown skin. He swallowed, busying himself with the bandages and the wet towel again.

“For all the breaking into places you do, maybe you should invest in some band-aids,” Luke said, and glanced down at the finely woven muscle on Saint’s ribs, at the red edges of the slashes. “If you flinch too much, you’re doing this yourself.”

Saint smiled. “Mean.”

“Fuck off,” Luke said, out of reflex, and then pressed his lips together. Saint laughed and then hissed as Luke pressed the towel to the cut.

They were close like this, Luke leaned in to dab the blood away, and then dot it with disinfectant, all while Saint’s muscles jumped beneath the palm he had steadied low on his belly. He could feel Saint watching him, and remembered waking up to those eyes. Saint’s hand in his hair.

“How did you do it?” Luke said into the small space between them. “Get in and out.”

“The chimney.”

So, he was serious.

“What did the letter say?” Saint asked.

Luke glanced up at him warily, but wiped a hand on his shorts before fishing the letter out of his pocket and handing it over. “Do you know who that is?”

Saint read it quietly, and then met Luke’s eyes. Luke was stuck there, pinned like a tack in a map, marking the place to be.

“Yes,” Saint said, and smiled brightly. “I know exactly who this is.”

[saigonharrington]

drivers license// stiles stilinski

Hi! This is my first blurb/fic kinda thing about Stiles, but I decided to get out of my comfort zone and chose him for this one. 

Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader (but I think it might be gender neutral)

Summary: based on a song drivers license by olivia rodrigo

Warnings: swearing, anxiety, betrayal (kind of), angst

Word count: nearly 1.3k so quite short

Words in italics are flashbacks.

As I am quite new here, reblogs are highly appreciated, because they help me grow, so thanks to everyone who will reblog this <3

also big thanks to @weasleysandwheezes for checking grammar 🧡🧡🧡

—

Your friend… boyfriend… or colleague, you didn’t even know how to call him now, was always so excited for you, to get your driver's license. 

He was eager to help you, lending you his jeep to learn everything, despite the car meant so much to him, he wasn’t mad if you made mistakes. He showed his patience, thrilled that soon you’ll be able to drive to his home by yourself, and hoping that you’ll be his private driver from time to time. He has pinky promised you that he will be the first person to drive with you, sitting in the passenger seat, singing with you the songs you two loved the most. 

But the day for you to drive your car by yourself finally came, and he wasn’t there. You had to sit there alone, trying not to burst into tears, failing miserably at the thought of Stiles. He promised. He made a fucking promise, and where was he? 

“Damn Y/N you’re doing so much better now!” He complimented you, getting all goofy and excited. “Last time was truly a disaster, but now I can truly say that I am not afraid to be a passenger anymore. You’re a quick learner. And there is nothing more to be broken so… but anyway. I’m proud. Can’t wait for doing trips to Scott’s house, or just simply driving around town, spying after my dad. I get chills when I think about it.” He added, getting relaxed in his seat.

“Guess you’re going to be the first person who wants to be in a car with me. And I cannot wait too. Can you promise me that you’ll be by my side when I’ll be driving after getting a license? I just know that I will be stressed as hell, and you’re the only  person that doesn’t make the whole process stressful.” You explained, giving him your pinky, which he gladly took.

“Of course, babe. We’ll be driving around the same places for a hundred times if you want to. Just to get you accustomed to driving your own car.”

The answer is - with that new girl, Malia. She came out of nowhere and was immediately seen by his side. He spent every second of his life with her, forgetting about your being. Driving this day was really hard for you, because the only thing in your mind was ‘what could they possibly be doing right now?’. She was older than you, looked pretty even if she didn’t try to. Her hilarious jokes made everyone laugh, she outshone everything with the confidence that she had, making you really shy and awkward around her. You started getting insecure, seeing that Stiles was mesmerized by her. You two were a thing for months, even though it was unofficial, you really hoped that he would ask you soon to be his lover. But he never did, ruining everything that you two had for so long. 

To say it hurt you was an understatement. You were devastated, being friends with him since childhood made you think that you two will never lose touch. Spending every second of life with him and Scott, making unbreakable vows and promises, all of that was now nothing, because of the new girl. It broke your heart, seeing how easily you were replaced, it made you think that you weren’t good enough for him. 

And you were going to admit your feelings soon, you wanted to say “I love you” for the first time, however you didn’t have a chance. It shattered you even more, remembering that one day when you were sitting with Stiles in his room.

“Hi, I came as you asked. What’s that thing you wanted to talk about? What is going on with Scott?” You asked, worried about your friend.

“Actually I wanted to say something not related to Scott first. If you don’t mind…” He muttered.

“Absolutely… oh my gosh! Are you investigating me?” You almost yelled, looking at his legendary crime board, now filled with things related to you and your pictures.

“No, no, no, no, no.” He started panicking, covering the wall miserably with some sheets and blankets. “I swear it’s not what it looks like. I can explain, I am not a creep.”

You sat on his bed, waiting patiently for the response. You could say that he was nervous, because he played with his fingers, trying to sort things out in the head. He scratched his head from time to time, getting ready to speak, but the answer was not coming.

“I ugh… how do I say this… I was just trying to understand you. Remember that one time when we argued about what movie we should watch? I still can’t understand why you chose Big hero 6 over Shrek so…”

“And you did a whole freaking research project? Dude, it was like three years ago. And it meant nothing deep! Will you ever stop investigating?”

“I don’t have anything else to do! We solved every case we had lately, and I had to focus on something. What’s wrong in trying to understand you?”

As you learned later, the movies were just silly excuses, because he was too awkward to admit that he felt something to you, but it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s with Malia.

Unfortunately for you, besides Stiles and Scott, you had only Kira to talk to. She was trying to understand and console you, but she got tired of it quickly. No wonder. Who would want to hear their best friend crying about some stupid boy every time that they meet? She wanted what’s best for you, wanted you to forget about him, but she couldn’t understand what the two of you had.  But how could she understand? She was never with you, only heard everything from your stories, never really paid attention while you were telling.

 No one could comprehend the connection between you and Stiles. Frankly speaking, it felt like you were soulmates. You had so much in common, you could run after him to hell and back, still being happy, because you have him by your side. 

You had. Now everything was lost. All the years of friendship meant nothing. Even if he would dump her, things wouldn’t be the same anymore. You were betrayed, he showed his disloyalty, making his words just wind. 

In the end, it was only you, sitting alone in your car, driving through the town, thinking that Stiles should be by your side. But he wasn’t. 

God, you were so pathetic. He probably forgot about you, while all your thoughts were filled with him. Even though he hurt you, made you feel miserable and not good enough, you still weren’t able to let him go. Because he was the only person that made you feel special. You have never met anyone like him. You were too weak, he had you wrapped around his fingers. 

The truth is, if he could magically appear here now and open that damn car door, you would let him in, ready for a conversation. And you would be the first to apologize, you just couldn’t live without him. 

There were still many years of life, how could you spend them without your friends? After all, that’s what the two of you were at first. 

You could handle your feelings, you just wanted your Stiles back. 

But not when she was around.

[moondustis]

remember when (m)

pairing: jaehyun + reader genre: angst, smut, soulmate!au, rich kid!au, convenience marriage!au, hurt/comfort, college!au (more details + warnings after read more)  word count: 12,7k summary: A story about vulnerability and the lines we draw to avoid it. About soulmates, desires, setting yourself free. And, of course, a story about love and discovering exactly what it is. song recs: skin by mac miller and pure love by hayley williams 

warnings: there are some mentions of drug use, brief mention of mental issues, bad parenting. just overall some subjects that might not be comfortable to read like i usually put on my fics but it's nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing graphics happens!  disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. none of the events described are real or are an accurate representation of the people and brands named. 

a/n: i would like to thank mary (neostains) for requesting this fic and cami (caiuscassiuss) for helping me with some informations about how ivy leagues work lol. this is my longest work so far, i think, and it’s a very special one. i hope you guys enjoy it! 

✶

There was a time in your childhood where you remember being obsessed with princess movies. Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, name a fairytale and you would have probably watched it a couple of times, entranced by the images playing on the newest television your father had bought.

Isn’t it fucked up that young girls are always fed this stereotypical image of love? It’s like a woman is not good for anything but to love someone, to be a half until she found the other and became whole. At 8 you ate that up like no one else.

At 11 your mother hires someone to give you a talk, about how the world worked and about the weird name that would appear in your arm once you turned 18. It feels like a lecture, the woman telling you about perfect matches, the probabilities of love and soulmates in a flat tone that didn’t make you feel as excited as you did watching the fairytales you used to like. When you tell your friends at school about it, they act surprised at the way you were told and instead, tell you about the stories about meeting your true love their own parents had shared.

At 15, your mother enrolls you in preparatory school, with full theatricals about intellects and getting into the best college possible so you can do your duty as heir of your father’s company when it becomes necessary.

It takes you a while, but you realize finally that love is nothing compared to money when you see for the first time that the name on your mother's wrist is not your fathers. Not long after that, you find out that for the sake of the company, you would be marrying Jung Jaehyun, heir of the second biggest automobilistic company in the country.

At 18 you think romance and love are trivial things.

⋄

NOVEMBER, 2013

It’s a harsh winter, one that makes your hands tremble and your head hurt more than usual.

You rub at your temples as you make your way down the hallway as students pass by you at the same pace as yours to get to their next class. A dreading routine, one that is so busy it leaves you with no time to think of anything else but the essay you have to write, or the grade you have been waiting to receive.

Today, though, your headache is so intense that your mind is filled with nothing but a black void.

Despite that, you walk in small steps to your literature lecture. Your bag feels as heavy as your head and the thick wool sweater you have on is barely enough to keep you warm, legs shivering from the stupid skirt they made you wear. Knee length, of course, but still a bother to sit and move.

Fuck boarding school, is what you think as you pass a group of boys talking loudly. One of them has a Harvard pin on his cardigan, you notice in the back of your mind. It only makes you feel sicker.

The first bell rings and you realize how slow you have been really walking. A faster pace, a muttered curse and then the second bells makes you feel like your ears are melting, headache increasing. Now you’re late, a rare occurrence that will probably not affect your records in any way, but still, makes you walk faster.

It all happens very fast. You turn into the corridor that leads to your classroom but not a second later you’re bumping straight into someone, books in your hand scattering to the floor and head spinning from the impact. It’s hard keeping your balance, but the harsh grip on your forearms helps and then you’re opening your eyes, that you didn't notice you had squeezed shut in the first place.

“Fuck, I’m really sorry.” The voice is familiar but the curse feels alien on your ears. Jung Jaehyun never curses, he has manners better than that. “I’m running late and walking too fast.”

He mumbles and you almost snort at the obviousness of it all. At the fact you were literally doing the same thing. “It’s okay. I should’ve been paying more attention.” There’s no reason for either of you to be apologizing, is what you think about as your hand immediately moves to your temple again in hopes pressing on it will cease the pain.

He’s looking right at you when you finally meet his eyes. His face is painted with embarrassment, the red hue on his ears a dead giveaway. He doesn’t keep eye contact for more than five second, instead moving to pick up your books for you. “Still, I’m very sorry.” He sounds polite, as always. The curse from before is still fresh on your mind.

You had met Jung Jaehyun at the age of 9, not that you remember exactly how it went. Some random brunch where you and him sat side by side as your mothers talked about whatever was happening seven years ago. You remember your old nanny being there, and how she asked sweetly if you would like more juice. You remember missing her when she got fired three weeks later for unrelated matters that were never told to you. And that’s about it.

After that, the years passed with Jaehyun being a weird presence in your life. The rich kids ran in the same circles, that didn’t take you a long time to realize and wherever you went he was there too.

German classes at 11, the birthday party of the daughter of someone you didn't know at 12, etiquette classes at 13. An event for your father's company at 14, one of his fathers at 15 and now at 16, attending the same boarding school and having to meet each other like this, with awkward smiles and polite conversation. Because navigating a relationship you didn't know the other very well, but too well at the same time was a weird thing to do.

Jung Jaehyun was like you, but at the same time he wasn't. You were friends but at the same time merely acquaintances.

But this you remember vividly: him asking you random things at german classes and making you laugh with his awkward pronunciation. Him eating cake by your side at the birthday party, covering his lips before he asked you if you like chocolate or vanilla more. Him making fun of you quietly for dropping down your fork loudly in the middle of etiquette class. Him standing awkwardly by your side while you got reprimanded by your mother during the event, for not properly remembering the name of a lady that came to greet you, your head down as you forced yourself not to cry in front of him.

And then, his father clapping yours on the back after they talked about how lovely it would be if someday the two of you got married to join economic forces. No, not someday. When you two got married.

You, pretending he didn't exist after that day, because you realized that this too you wouldn't get to decide.

Jaehyun clears his throat, hands you your books. “How is your father?” He asks, a stupid question to ask when you're both late. A stupid question to ask, period.

You try not to grimace. “He's okay. Alive.” And then he’s chuckling lowly, awkwardly.

“That’s good, no company to run at 16 then.” He tries to joke and it's amusing, in a way that for someone else might not be. But you two are the same, at least when it comes to this.

“And hopefully never.” A stupid thing to hope for, but still he smiles at you.

Then the moment is over, the third alarm sounds and both your eyes shoot open and you’re muttering goodbyes before heading to your classes.

Your head still hurts, but you don’t feel as cold anymore.

⋄

2015

Anticipation, isn’t that just a fancier word to describe the gut feeling that something is going to happen? Worst yet when you know exactly what it is, but have no possible ways of knowing the possible outcome.

There’s a window behind your advisor, with a view to the field where the lacrosse team practices. You watch it with a lack of interest as the older lady flips through pages and more pages of what is possibly your future.

No, not possibly. Definitely your future. Because at least to this, you knew the only outcome possible.

It’s a pretty day, one that shouldn’t be spent inside a room with wood furniture and shelves and more shelves of books, that are almost as many as the certificates on the wall. Not when it also happens to be your birthday.

“This is a really good essay, ___. You have a talent with words.” Your advisor breaks the silence in a flat voice despite it being a compliment. It makes your eyes immediately refocus on her but she gives you no time yet to reply. “I am sure the admission team will read it with interest.”

“Thank you.” A polite smile reaches your lips. She was never much of a praiser, not that she needed to be. Your last name carried all the confidence you needed to have for a thing like this.

And, perhaps the interest they would be having would be exactly about that. What does the only heir of the biggest automotive company in the country have to offer for Stanford? Probably a lot, with a weight that heavy on her shoulders.

“You have started applications to only two schools, are you sure you would not like to add more?” Now she says it in a weirdly soft tone. Persuasion, because it would look good for the school that one of their best students accepted to all the ivy leagues. Your GPA would make sure of that, but that's not all.

“I don’t see the point. Stanford has always been my only choice.” You say it as nicely as possible because this is an old conversation.

“I see, well. This is it then, there's a few other students interested in attending Stanford too." She smiles bitterly, gathering the papers and putting it back on their respective folders. "But the chances of you getting in are very good. I'm sure all your hard work will pay off.”

You go to thank her but at that moment there's a pinch on your arm that leaves you distracted. It's followed by a weird burning sensation that doesn't cease when you grip it underneath the table as gently as possible. If anything, the fabric of your cardigan only makes it worse.

She bids you your goodbyes, with pleasantries exchanged but when you reach the door to leave she interrupts. “Oh, I almost forgot. Happy birthday, ____.” She smiles when you turn to thank her. “Please enjoy the rest of the day, turning 18 is very special.”

With a small bitter smile and promise to do so, you leave the room.

You reach your dorm room in no time, a stoic face on but with quick steps. And you try not to think about it, but the burning sensation on your arms continues.

It goes like this:

You close the door behind you gently, dropping your things down and immediately crumbling as you slide to the floor, unable to stand still anymore. You cry, for the second time today because birthdays were just not good. For about 10 minutes that's all that happens, your silent sobs and complete silence filling the room.

The burning in your arms stays there as a painful reminder and it tempts you to look, even though you know that the outcome didn't matter, not for you. Because behind blurry teary eyes you can see perfectly the image of your own mother's arm and the name of someone you didn't know, that she probably also didn't.

Because you are now 18 and you think romance and love are trivial things, that's all they could be.

You are now 18, and when you can't stand not knowing for another minute, you raise the sleeve of your cardigan and the name Jung Jaehyun is there on your wrist.

An ugly, incredulous laugh leaves your lips and soon turns into a sob. Of course it had to be him, you and Jung Jaehyun were tied to each other for a reason that was beyond fate.

You squeeze your eyes at the same time your hands squeeze your thighs, trying to get a grip. You calm yourself down, deep breaths in and out, your mind providing the good and the bad. No matter how you looked at it, it seemed like a trick the universe was playing on you. One, it would be worse if another name appeared, a name that you would have to pretend didn't exist, because this was just another thing you didn't have a say in. This was supposed to happen anyway, maybe it was better this way.

Then your mind provides another thought that makes your mind swirl. Jung Jaehyun had turned 18 in February, your name had appeared on his arms months ago and he didn't say a word about it to you, or to anyone for all you know. Maybe he was pretending too, maybe he wanted more time thinking that at least this he would get to choose.

Well, whatever fairytale that had been created inside stupid minds, was gone now.

⋄

The whole thing is announced two weeks later, in a gossip magazine with information from an inside source. Information that is carefully crafted from a marketing team the moment you reveal the result.

A result, like a test had been applied and you got Jung Jaehyun for whatever reason.

You exchange pleasantries the next time you see him, no trace of being too young to know the rest of your lives already. You just look at each other in maybe defeat, while your families make a toast to celebrate a wedding to take place in a few years from now. A wedding that held meaning beyond the marks that tied the two of you. Destiny just helped a little bit, it was just a good excuse to justify a marriage that had been arranged ages ago.

A month later you get accepted to Stanford, of course you do. And your mother's smile is a loud reminder of every single time she called you and inquired about every grade, every step you made to make sure this happened and that it all happened accordingly.

It doesn't take you long to find out Jaehyun got accepted there too.

⋄

AUGUST 2016

The heels of your Miu Miu boots make small stomping noises on the wood floor sounds as you walk through shelves and shelves filled with books. It’s not a loud sound, probably only perceived by your own ears, and you let it distract you as you navigate the big corridors of the Green Library.

Stanford had made your eyes shine during your first visit and then for the first months of your freshman year. The thrill of finally experiencing something new and yet undiscovered carried on until it gave space to normalcy, another routine. But this time, a feeling blossomed inside your stomach with wanting to eat it up.

A feeling that died and resurrected every now and then, but you played it safe. Navigating it with baby steps with fear of what could happen if you strained a little too far from the line. And what could that be? A magazine spread on how a famous philanthropic's daughter parties too hard in college, with pictures of you doing a line on marble countertops?  A class failed and the disappointment on your mother's voice when she called you? A scandal about your night escapades? You didn’t want to find out just yet.

So you settle for your new routine, of going out every now and then with the roommates that you were about to consider friends. Pondering if it’s worth it to join another club, just to feel like there's something else that makes you feel excited. Coming to the library, studying to keep your mind busy because your thoughts were never up to no good.

And it's so easy, being busy like you always managed to, with assignments, and volunteering and maintaining a perfect GPA.

It's also easy to ignore Jung Jaehyun’s existence. Because this time, unlike in boarding school, the task is much simpler, since classes are filled with so many people that on the ones you shared with him you barely get a glance of his eyes. Because he ran around in circles that had nothing to do with yours.

It was always clear to you, since youth, that Jaehyun was a social butterfly that just needed a little pushing, and he was nice enough that people always wanted him near. A high contrast to your quietness and introverted ways, staying in small circles and almost never allowing people to get too close.

It's weird thinking about him, putting a face to the name that was forever marked on your skin as a reminder of your future. It was weird thinking that it was easy to ignore this feeling too, like all the other ones that you have kept away in your small little box. The feelings that came out at least once a year when it all became too much, and you would sit in a duvet to spill all the dead butterflies inside your stomach out on the floor of a therapy clinic.

But even like this, weirdness doesn't begin to cover the way sometimes you catch yourself thinking of a memory that involves him, random and unexpected. A moment shared before the two of you discovered what expected you, before destiny was revealed. And you don't pretend that it's not real, that you don't feel the longing and need to be close, that your skin doesn't tingle when you see him around campus. You were long past pretending now, because there was no reason to play dumb when sometimes all you had were your own thoughts to rot your brain.

What you were good at, though, was concealing it all.

Was Jaehyun good at that too? Now that's something that you think about more than you would like. It didn't help that sometimes you would bump into him out of nowhere.

You enter the marketing aisle, eyes fixed on the small numbers taped to each section in hopes that the book you need was still here. It takes you awhile to realize that there's someone else with you, only moving your head up when you hear the footsteps approaching.  

“Hi.” Jaehyun says, a small smile on his lips that is as gentle as every other thing about his looks. He stands close, but not too much. A safe distance for you to run your eyes through his body one time, eyes stopping at the big ‘S’ on his sweatshirt.

You clear your throat before greeting him back. “Hello.” Your voice is low, thoughtful of your surroundings, but you match his smile in a silent agreement of politeness.

His eyes run through your face the same way yours does his. Curiosity, or maybe the longing feeling you try to not think about. The unspoken space in between the two of you is intact for now.  

He has changed so much in a year, is what you always think about when you two get to see each other up close. It always made you feel a weird nostalgia, seeing a face you had known for so long but now feels a little out of reach because of your own stubbornness. Your own fears.

“What book are you looking for?” He asks after some time, making small talk.

You turn your eyes to the books, him following. “Uhm, Kotler.”

“Oh, of course. How is marketing going?” You almost laugh at his attempt to make conversation, a skill well acquired during etiquette class.

“It’s okay. Not regretting it yet.” A half lie. Maybe another thing you were keeping locked deep down, your dislike for your major. But thinking about that while having a conversation with your soulmate was far from something you wanted to do.

He hums amused, eyes still fixed on the shelf. “That's good.”

You finally find the book, leaning down to get it and hugging it to your chest as your mind searches for something to offer for your own piece of ice breaker. Then you remember seeing his face last week printed on a glossy paper, an intricate article on consumerism tendencies online besides it.

“Congrats on the publication.” You say, facing him again. It’s genuine, because you knew how things like that really mattered. Small things that were nowhere near the accomplishments expected of the two of you, but still something to be proud of.

He laughs lowly, with bashful manners of looking down to his feet and with ears turning red. “It’s just a campus magazine.” Because of course he would be humble, amongst all the other qualities you were well acquainted with. Deep down you know that it's just a reflection of the high expectations that have been set the moment he was born.

“Still, it was very well written. And everyone said it was impressive for a freshman.” Everyone being the friend that showed you the magazine, but you'll pretend for him that it was something more. To try and erase the feeling of not deserving something that probably runs through his mind.

You would crush it beneath your boots if you could, it's the weird thought that runs through yours.

He huffs. “Well, it’s Stanford. Hard to know what's gonna be impressive and what is just expected of you.”

“Good thing we are all promising young adults that don't need their egos to be fed, right?” You joke back and it makes him laugh a little too loudly, quickly stopping himself as you two exchange awkward but familiar glances with tiny smiles on your lips.

A moment of silence settles next, one that lasts only long enough for you to shift the weight from one leg to another. Then he's asking. “Are you… Are you doing something this weekend?”

“I’m expected at a company party.” You reply flatly, blinking twice but not really pondering the reasons for his curiosity. You two stare at each other for a second that passes quickly.

“The HSBC event?” He asks and you nod, expecting the words he says next. “Oh, I'll attend it as well.”

“Boring, huh?” An attempt to continue a conversation that should've ended by now.

“Yeah.” He looks at you, and then away, and then back at you. “I was thinking that we could have din-“

Footsteps interrupt his words and you look behind your shoulder to see who the newcomer is. A tall man, taller than Jaehyun even, smiles at you guiltily before he’s looking at Jaehyun and raising his brows. “We are late, dude.” He deadpans as you look between the two of them.

“Shit, I didn’t realize.” Jaehyun says in a groan, bringing his big watch to his face,  and you have to contain a smile at the curse. Then he turns to you. “Sorry, I gotta go.”

“It’s fine.” You mumble, the book still held tight against your chest.

He waves awkwardly as the other man throws you another smile. You watch them leave with trembling fingers.

⋄

DECEMBER 2017

December always made you feel a little weird. Blame it on the cold and the days spent in bed trying to get the warmth you craved. Or on the impending approach of winter break and having to deal with your parents and your obligations for the month to follow.

But you try not to think about that just yet, when the time comes you'll deal with it. That's what you always do. For now you let your bed swallow you as you scroll down mindless through your instagram feed, double tapping publications of past boarding school acquaintances smiling with the Harvard location attached to each picture, just like the brand names are attached to their clothes. It's a little pathetic to you that your own account looks the same, with pictures carefully picked with a marketing tactic in mind.

Your little distraction is interrupted when the door to your room opens and your roommate, Ela, walks in, clearly shivering from the cold even underneath her thick dark grey coat. “God, it's fucking freezing outside.” She mumbles as a greeting, removing her boots and setting it close to the door before draping her coat on her chair.

“How was the meeting?” You ask from under your blankets, laughing a little as she drops her things on her own bed. The question makes her sigh loudly.

“That dude is still an asshole.” The dude in question being her partner to a never ending project of rebranding that sometimes stressed even you, from how much she talked about it. “But we are almost done with it now.”

“That's good.”

She plops on her bed, across from yours and a comfortable silence settles for a moment as she probably tries to have a moment of calmness.

Ela was an old face on your life, having attended the same school but never really getting closer than knowing each other's name. Still, it was good that you got paired to dorm with her. A familiar face that became a friend of sorts, as the two of you built a relationship on things in common and the want to have someone you could trust in a new place. And she was different than you, more outgoing, had a liking for socializing that you could never match, but still understood you.

“Hey, did you finish that essay already?” She asks, turning her face to you.

“Yes, it was bitch to write.”

“And Kotler is super boring to read.” A sigh escapes her lips and you agree loudly because she's right. Sometimes, when you allowed yourself a moment of wishful thinking, you would wonder what it would be like to have a major that you didn't feel like your brain was melting from boredom when reading about.

“I'm really tired.” You reply, just to say something back.

“Same. Are you doing something for winter break?”

In your mind you know exactly what you'll be doing, a schedule even ready on your mind, but  instead you say “Not really, are you?”

She hums, voice tired but still excited as she goes on about how she wants to go to Europe again, visit Amsterdam because that was one of her favorite travel destinations. When you ask how it was, she describes in perfect detail, how the streets looked and how it felt very welcoming, telling you that you absolutely had to go there someday.

You promise to go and in the back of your mind you wish you could. Maybe you can if you can do more week hours on your internship and ask for a free week.

You shake your head at that though.

“Oh, I got this little get together today. At that bar downtown.. .Do you want to go?” You know she’s asking out of politeness, not because she didn't want you there but because you rarely said yes to her invitations.

But there’s a tiny spark on your chest, one that resembles the restless feeling you would get when you stayed too long laying down. It's not a motivation as much as it is boredom and the wish to feel something other than half emptiness. Other than the want to escape.

“Ok.” You say, shrugging slightly.

“Really?”

The raise of her brow makes you laugh. “Yeah, we are getting home next week. That's the last time I get to do this for a while.”

⋄

The bar is a little crowded, with winter break approaching and no one really daring step outside for a smoke because of how cold it is. The owners took great advantage of that by offering a ‘buy two get one free’ deal, that if you take a closer look at is really just a scam considering the price. But it's enough to fool college students that are excited about being away from this place for a while.

That’s what you think about after you down the remnants of the third drink you and your roommate shared. It’s not that kind of night, of getting wasted and not remembering anything the next day. It’s more of a little get together, for your roommate's club members and you are here merely as an intruder.

You feel just a little tipsy as you listen to her friends talk, some of them you knew from afar and some were just strangers that were nice enough to make you laugh every now and then. Still, you feel detached from the conversation, smiling and nodding when needing but not really taking part.

“What about you, ___?” A girl with round cheeks and pretty eyes asks you regarding your vacation plans. “You gotta invite us if you are throwing a party.”

You scoff before you can catch yourself. Alcohol always drops your inhibitions a little, but still you are quick to cover it up. You laugh along with the others, promising to invite everyone even though you are not throwing any parties, most likely never.

You roommate looks at you from the corner of her eye, smiling sympathetically because she knows you, and knows how stupid her friends are, but it's fine. You just wish you could just take it easily, the interest, the wanting to get close so they too will appear in a gossip magazine and live the life they think you do, without wanting to tell them to get a fucking life already, because this is just pathetic.

You smile back at her, wishing for another drink as your thigh highs start to roll a little uncomfortably. Shifting from leg to leg does nothing to help it, so you try to push the little annoyance to the back of your mind.

The small groups divide in different topics over the time, and you find yourself talking to some guy you had never seen before, that goes on and on about his amazing business ideas and how successful it's going to be when he finds the right stakeholders. You nod and try to focus through the whole thing.

The rest of the night goes like that. Fake laughter, loud music and conversation that gets more boring as the clock ticks, so you find an escape excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, not because you need to but to get away for a second.

In retrospect maybe it would've been better to endure another discussion about LA clubs and entrepreneurship.

The bar is so crowded that you have to excuse yourself at least five times, and on the sixth one you end up bumping into someone.

“Oh.” Is the clever thing you say when your eyes are met with Jaehyun already looking at you, his eyes lower than usual from probably taking advantage of the drink deal like you had.

He looks relaxed, hair parted in a way that shows his forehead and an all black outfit that doesn’t look as expensive as it probably is, but he makes it work so well that you do a double look while in your hazy state. If he notices, he doesn’t show it by the way he keeps his smile unfazed at you.

“We gotta stop seeing each other by accident,” he says, laughing a little.

“Yeah.” His words take a little to digest so you keep looking at him for a beat of a second. It’s a first, seeing him in a place like this. Where you can see just how well he really can adjust to any setting. He fits right in with the low lights and the relaxed atmosphere.

“This is Johnny.” He gestures for the guy besides him, who turns his attention to you and smiles in a way that’s a little familiar. Then you realize he’s the guy from the library over a year ago, and the friend Jaehyun posted pictures every now and then on his instagram page.

“Hey, It’s nice to meet you.” Johnny says, same smile from before still on and you return it. “Have heard a lot about you.”

That makes you laugh, a mixture of confusion and excitement and politeness that confuses even yourself. “Good things I hope.”

He tilts his head playfully. “Only the best things you can hear in place like this.”

The three of you share smiles, the interaction then turning into a conversation promoted by a question you ask, both from wanting to have something to say and out of curiosity. Johnny does most of the talking, explaining how he and Jaehyun had been friends for a while but only got closer now that they are attending the same university. They share a story of something that happened, them buying each other the same thing for christmas and you listen to the whole thing entranced.

It’s weird in some way how you can learn so much from your own soulmate from someone else. And it's weird how you react with joy, perhaps, to the teasing Johnny does to Jaehyun so naturally.

When the conversation settles down, Johnny looks between the two of you for a few seconds before he’s excusing himself to find an unnamed person. It was predictable he would do that, with the way he kept aiming the conversation to make it about Jaehyun, as if he somehow had to wing his friend to you.

You stare at your shoes, unsure of what to say now and maybe too worn out from the whole night to come up with something to talk about. But you don’t have to, because soon he’s asking  “Are you here alone?”

You look up, a tiny smile on your lips. “No, I came with my roommate. But she's with her friends.”

“Oh, I’ll keep you company then.” He offers and you nod, following him to the bar where it's more illuminated and you can both lean a little on the counter.

Jaehyun is good at making people feel comfortable, you had noticed that many times before and it's no surprise when he asks you about your roommate, about what songs you have been listening to lately. He tries to keep a conversation with ease, even if it stays in the usual surface you two are used to.

If you weren't so distracted by everything, your mind would probably offer that it feels a lot like when you were kids and standing in the corner of a ballroom in uncomfortable clothes, talking about things that didn't matter.

“Have you ever been to Amsterdam?” You ask him suddenly when the past topic dies down.

“Yeah, it's really nice there.”

You hum, remembering your roommate's words. “That’s cool, I really want to go there someday.”

Out of nowhere he starts laughing a little, as if you had said something funny. When you inquire about it, he shakes his head clearly amused by the way his eyes squint a little from his smile. “It's just… Don’t you think it's weird that we have known each other for all these years, and all we do is do this weird small talk?”

You laugh too, speaking before you can stop yourself. “And still for some reason I feel like I know you.”

His eyebrows raise for a second but his smile is unfaltering, your statement not bothering him.  “You know me.” He says, as a matter of fact. “And I know you.”

Now this makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn't last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that it's true, you know him and he knows you. Not everything, but what would be the fun in that.

Maybe that's why the two of you kept doing this small talk, to get to know each other better even in the smallest things. That's what getting to know someone is, after all. Not the business interviews and networking you grew up with.

You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “What is your favorite thing about me then?” It's what you ask, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going. Or because you actually want to know, out of curiosity or vanity.

He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face as if in deep thought, before he replies. “I like that you are smart.”

The simplicity of it makes you snort. “Please, that's a cliche thing to say in a place like this.” You say, mimicking the words his friend had said to you earlier. “What does that even mean?”

“I don't know.” He shrugs while laughing, “Johnny just says things like that sometimes.”

You nod then, making an amused sound while you turn on the counter to stare forward. Your roommate is on the opposite side of yours, leaning against a wall while talking to a girl taller than her but just as pretty. The view makes a tiny smile settle on your lips, the beginning of a spark on your chest.

It always amazed you how people who didn't know their soulmate yet continued to live on, simply letting the universe do its thing naturally. In your young mind you had always thought that love was supposed to be a yearning that you couldn't control, that you would have to be with the person you love no matter what, and do anything to find them. That had changed now.

You turn to Jaehyun again. “What would you say is your favorite thing about me then, if we didn't know each other already?” You ask. It's a weird question because it makes him raise one eyebrow at you, but there's still not a trace of annoyance on his face.

“Isn't that also cliche to say?” He huffs. “That you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen?”

You can't help the embarrassed laugh that leaves your parted lips in shock. “Are you flirting with me?”

His ear gets an incredible red shade and you find it extremely charming. “It's just the truth.” He defends himself and it only makes you giggle more.

You thank him, tell him that you think he’s pretty too and correct it to handsome when he raises one eyebrow again. It makes a nice atmosphere settle and you feel comfortable enough to ask “So... if we didn't know each other you would flirt with me at a random party? Buy me a drink and all that?”

He smiles, dimples showing while he brushes his hair back. It's not the first time, of course, but you find yourself a little in awe at how pretty he actually is. Pretty in a way that makes you feel a little out of it, stunned by the way his lips start forming his next words.  

“What do you like to drink?” He asks casually.

Now it's your turn to raise one eyebrow. “Hmm, I like Moscow Mules.”

You watch as he turns to the bar, calling the waiter over and ordering two drinks of your said preference. The mixture of feelings on your chest make you feel drunker than you did before and you wish you could put a name to it. Excitement, amusement, whatever it is only increases when he looks at you again.

“I’m Jung Jaehyun, by the way.” He offers, smiling sweetly and you match it when you realize what he's playing at

“I’m _____. It's nice to meet you.”

⋄

Playing pretend with him is easy, even more when the drinks make your inhibitions fall completely. Jaehyun tells a joke and you lean forward a little. Then you talk about something and he comes closer as if to hear better. Another drink and plenty of silly conversation later, he's completely invading your space in a way that you don't feel slightly bothered by.  

Not even when leans to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You leave the bar giggling like the two mildly drunk people you are, basking in the joy of it and of the little fantasy you two have created. Jaehyun keeps you close, your hands linked and it's such a nice feeling that you get even more overwhelmed in a good way. The two of you walk almost glued to each other basically skipping and muttering playfully things just to say something.

When you are near the dorm complex, he stops abruptly and when you turn to him, his hands find your cheeks and his eyes search yours for a brief moment before he’s bringing your face closer to his.

It's a sweet kiss, contrary to what you thought it would be when you allowed yourself to think about this. You had always imagined desperation, not being able to endure not doing it anymore. But the reality is that Jaehyun kisses you with delicacy and  even if there is desperation to it, it's not in a way that overpowers anything else. But in a way that makes you moan lowly, makes you press him even closer by grabbing his shirt as he moves his lips slowly against yours.

There are no fireworks, no deep realization that you are kissing the person you are meant to be with for the rest of your life. But it's good, makes you want more, makes you want to bring him closer than possible, and maybe that's proof enough.

You reach his dorm in a blink after that, him having a bit of a hard time opening the door but when he does it takes no time for you to be pressed to it.

For a moment he just looks at you, eyes hazy and shining. They run through your face the same way yours does his, with longing that is finally allowed. You try to quiet the way your heart beats by leaning forward and kissing him.

The kiss is hungry but never too fast, with his hands moving to your hips and you pulling on his lips. When you moan a little at the feel, he opens his mouth a little, sliding his tongue against yours and you swear at yourself for waiting so long. Swear that you will never get enough of this.

Your lips move together in a way that is proof enough to you that this is something else even in your drunk state. His lips are soft, tongue moving with yours as if he wants to take his time and when your hands move from his shoulders to his neck he  shudders, parting from you with a wet sound.

“W-We should...” He murmurs against your lip and you nod before he even finishes, letting him lead you to his bed. It feels a lot like yours, and the rest of the room is just as familiar but you pay no attention to that when he lays you on it gently.

It’s no surprise that Jaehyun is a giving lover and you figure that out when he kisses you like he wants to find out exactly what you like. Exactly how to make you fall apart in his hands.

He does everything with an expertise that maybe should make you feel jealous, but out of all things you are, a hypocrite is not one of them. So he shows you what he has learn from other people, and you show him what you have

And he doesn't settle for anything less than kissing all over your body after the two of you get undressed. For less than telling you in whispered words that he has dreamed about this before so many times and immediately swallowing with his tongue the words you would never be able to let out.

That you had dreamed about this too.  Dreamed about coming on his tongue as he eats you out, your hands grabbing at his hair and seeing stars. A giving lover, of the best kind,  Even more when he asks, with his mouth shining with your arousal. “How do you want it?”

You blink as your mind spins with the endless possibilities, but the ultimate realization that you would have him any way.  You decide on the one that gives you more control. “I… I want to ride you.”

He bites his lips, ears burning red again. “Yeah,” His words come out mumbles as he just looks at you for a second before moving to lay on his back. “Yeah, ok. Fuck.”

You straddle his hips after he rolls down the condom, his eyes looking up at you in what you think is adoration, pure desire. And then you kiss him again, all tongue but still slow. So deep that you think you’ll never forget what he tastes like.

He lets you sink down at your own pace, palms on your ass when you move slowly, feeling him stretch you with every inch you sit on. He hums, hands tracing your skin delicately and it only makes it so much worse.

You move, a grind at first testing the water and immediately crying out lowly from the friction and you look for support with nails grabbing at his chest. He doesn't seem to mind.

“Good?” A stupid question to ask with the way you are so wet around him that the room is filled with a squelching sound when you move up and down with all the patience in the world.

Still, you nod. “You feel - Fuck - really good.”

He looks down at where you’re connected, biting his lips to suppress the noises you want him to let out so you move your hips with purpose, eyes roaming his face to watch it contort in pleasure as he lets out the prettiest moan you have ever heard. Low and deep.

His hands move further down then, gripping your hips and moving you in a grind that feels too good. So good that you have to drop your arms to his chest for leverage as he moves you to his liking, pushing your hips back and forth.

You come with your back arching, long moan of his name as your entire body shakes and tingles and you have to grip at the sheets beside you for support. You try to keep moving as your orgasm washes over you but its too much and your walls clenching around his cock  makes him grip your ass even tighter, the action sending a thrill down your body as you fall forward on his chest with a wail.

Your mind swims in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun.

He waits for a second, hand moving to your back as your body trembles, drawing calming circles on it. When you have calmed down, he plants his feet on the bed and starts moving his hips up slowly and patiently but with deep strokes that make you bite your lip with oversensitivity.

And when you can, you move your head up, balancing yourself on your arms and looking at him. He wastes no time in kissing you, not deep because he parts his lips in a groan during a particular stroke, speeding his movements and grunting when you try to meet them back.

It’s when he has had enough, that he pulls out only to turn you on your back so he can enter you more easily, his hips now meeting yours in a pace that tells you that he’s close.

“Jae, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He looks proud of being able to get you like this.

He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.

“Deep?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come.

He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you in the brink of another orgasm. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again, stars behind your eyelids.

And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally releasing inside the condom.    

He pulls out, breath heavy as he smiles at you falling putty on the bed and watching as he removes the condom and disposes it only to come quickly to the bed quickly.

He hovers over you, kissing you sweetly. Your arms find his shoulders easily as the two of you bask in the afterglow of it.

Then he kisses you again, tongues dancing together and you don’t mind when his hand starts to wander again, sending goosebumps to your body. His fingers find your clit with ease, circling it slowly before applying more pressure as your lips part and your hand grip his arm, for support and not to cut the actions.

You come again, not as strong as your first one but still enough to have you shaking a little and screaming silently. His finger stays at your clit, hovering until he asks again in a whisper. “Another?”

You nod, and he resumes his actions slowly, until you are seeing starts and he swallows your moans with kisses and stops your trembling with soft hands grounding you.

When you recover your breath, an incredulous laughter leaves your lips. “You’re insane.” He just smiles, nose brushing against yours.  “God, I...I gotta clean up now.”

He moves to get up. “Yeah sure, I’ll show you the bathroom.”

You end up cleaning together, a shower that doesn't take you long, even if it's hard to keep your hands to yourselves but you are both tired, feeling a little drained after the glow has gone away.

⋄

Afterwards, you are laying on his bed side by side, surrounded by the smell of his body wash and wearing the big t-shirt and sweatpants he offered you.

Your mind starts wandering lazily with the remnants of your high, that's why the words escape your mouth without much thought. “Isn't it weird that even if we have someone in the world meant for us we can still feel lonely?” You are not lonely right now, not really. Maybe it's just the sadness of winter speaking, or maybe you're still a little drunk.

He takes a second to reply, voice low when he does. “Yeah. But you don't have to.” He says.“ Feel lonely, I mean. You don't have to.”

It's a little funny how he feels the need to explain himself to you, as if you don't quite understand him when the reality it's both very far from that and exactly it at the same time.

“I don't think thats how it works. It's not up to me.” If it was, wouldn't you have stopped being lonely by now? Wouldn't you have finally succumbed to the desperate need of wanting someone, something, when late night hit and the mark in your arm would burn just as your eyes as you fought back tears?

Still, he says simply. “I think it is.”

You smile sadly then, turning to him a little and watching as he kept his gaze on the ceiling. He looked relaxed, as if this setting was soothing his mind and it makes a familiar feeling blossom on your chest.  “What did you feel when the mark showed up on your arm?” A question that you had wanted to ask the moment you found out it was him, but instead had failed miserably to guess the answer to.

“Relief.” He says without thinking, a truthful and genuine reply.

“That you wouldn't have to end up marrying someone that wasn't your soulmate?” You ask. All these years you had thought that this must've been it, what you felt that day.

“No. I was relieved that it was you anyway.” Is his reply, body turning and eyes meeting yours. For a second you’re frozen, blinking because it’s strange to have someone put their feelings out so easily.

“Is… Is that what love is, then?” You ask softly. “Relief that you have at least one person that makes you feel held?”

Maybe this is not really what he meant,  and more so wishful thinking of your part than anything else, but still he nods.

“I think it’s that. And other things.” His voice is soft when he says this. “I'm not sure what it is, but I want to find out.”

You can’t help as you examine his face after his confession. Is this what being soulmates is, then? Having someone that it's worth taking the risk of finding out? Or maybe it’s having someone that will show you exactly what it is.

Does all that explain the way you can't look away from him?

“Me neither.” You reply in the same quiet voice because it’s true. You tend to act like you know everything, and that you know what love is. You know love it’s pathetic and that it gets in the way of things, but is it really that bad? So you ask “Is it bad that I think you'll only love me because the mark on your arm tells you to?”

He laughs briefly. “No, it makes sense.” His eyes find yours again. “But you know it’s not, don't you?”

“I do.” At least you do now.

Maybe that's why you fall asleep so easily

⋄

2014 (flashback)

It’s the last day before summer break and Jaehyun is tired.

The other four guys he shared a room with are all packing their things for a nice vacation somewhere in Europe or one of the paradisiac beaches they all like to talk about. Jaehyun just wants to get home, not think about college applications for two months and maybe go somewhere he can be alone for a while.

“Sooyoung is kinda hot, huh?”  Yugyeom says out of nowhere and the room settles in a unison hum of agreement. He joins in too.

There’s a loud creak noise as another one of his roommates slumps into the bed but he doesn't bother checking who it is, mind somewhere else as he stares at the ceiling.

“True. But I would die if Ela gave me her number.” Jungkook sighs dreamily and Jaehyun can't help the snort that escapes his lips. Just yesterday they had a conversation exactly like this one, but not quite as innocent. Trust a group of men that have no idea who their roommates are to act like this.

Even though Doyoung, the only one of them that already knew, still acted the same when it came to this. His soulmate isn't someone he knew already, so what was the point in waiting. That's why he asks the next question. “Jaehyun, you know ___, right? Does she stick to the whole ‘waiting’ thing?”

Jaehyun blinks, shifts almost unnoticeable. “I don't know her like that.” Is what he says, which is a half true. He knows her, probably things no one else knows but that’s what happens when you grow up in the same circles, he guesses. Right now though, he feels like he doesn’t know her anymore, not with the distance she had put between them after the wedding was announced by your parents.

Then, he starts thinking about himself. Is he waiting for his soulmate? He has kissed some girls, but it never went beyond that. But now he remembers coming home from german class one day and his mother making soft cake as she told him about the name that would appear on his wrist.

He remembers that he had said loudly that he wished ____ would be his name, because then they could be better friends for some reason as silly as playing around together.

Sicheng interrupts his thoughts by snorting loudly. “Are you really trying to hit?” He asks Doyoung. “Gonna end up in the cover of a magazine for trying to corrupt the nation’s good girl.”

The room erupts in laughter and comments after that. He drowns it with his mind going somewhere else.

That night he dreams about her.

⋄

10, FEBRUARY 2018

Winter break goes by quickly with one too many end of the year celebration and wishing people you had never seen before a happy new year.

You spend your days fulfilling your internship at the company you would one day own, following around the superiors for the Marketing team and playing nice when they try to flatter you.

So busy that you can barely think about it, but you still do. You think about him so often that you think you have lost your mind.  And you see Jung Jaehyun too, here and there at parties, between whiskey glasses, tuxedos and unspoken words. Because, as you always thought, keeping it all unsaid is easier. At least for now.

Perhaps he knows it all, in a different way than you. So the two of you kept it lowkey, for the duration of those two months that are now gone with the wind. Two months of not a single magazine spread on your escapades, or you parents mentioning anything that is out of the ordinary.

It's as if the two of you have a secret, that some may assume, but still don't know for sure. What you and Jaehyun did that night is kept inside a locked box, one that you share with him and that every moment until now seems to fit in. What you don't know is if he too keeps the box as sacred as you do.

What you don't know is if the thought of it being opened by prying eyes scares him too.

Being back to campus is, ironically, a breath of fresh air. No more business meetings disguised as family celebrations, or stupid networking, or smiling for a camera to say that the company has never been better. No more internship and lack of time for something else.

February comes and it's just you, your dorm bed and the roommate you will miss when it's time. Just the lectures and keeping busy and trying not to think about things only to fail miserably.

But then, there are the phone calls, never ending and always the same. Or almost always.

The phone lights up, stupid ringtone, and your heart starts beating a little faster. How could someone ever guess what a phone call is about?  Not having control made you antsy.

Your mother greets you as always, stern words, asking how you have been out of politeness. You spend the entire phone call waiting for her to just say what she wants to already.

She mentions being busy, good opportunities, of an article you should read and something that sounds like a threat if you let yourself slip and get a scandal, even though she has said all this not long ago after gifting you another piece of jewelry you’ll keep stored deep in your drawer.

At least this time it doesn't take long for her to finally say what she wants. “Jaehyun’s birthday is soon. Don't forget to greet him.”

“I won't.” You reply simply but she’s quick to cut you off.

“Publicly. Maybe sending flowers would be good, or buying something that can get attention from the press.” It’s obvious this is not about you and your soulmate, it’s about you and your future. As everything is.

“Ok.”

“Just because he's your soulmate doesn't mean people will connect you two together forever.” She continues, never knowing when to stop. “You have to remind them of that.”

“I know that.” Because you do. There was no guarantee that your marriage with Jaehyun would be good publicity if the two of you weren’t liked or even popular.

You fear that when the time comes, people will realize something you yourself already has. That maybe you don’t really deserve Jaehyun, not because he’s better than you, but because you are not sure you can give him the love he deserves.

What you don't know clearly yet, is that you’re selfish and want him anyway.

“Good.” Your mother says and then the line cuts.

One time a therapist told you that maybe your mother was jealous. Because you would get to experience something she didn't, being with your soulmate, and that it was normal. It didn't mean she was evil and hated you. Another one said that that was the reason she was so stern, she wanted to keep you in line to prevent you from failure so as to not hurt you. That, behind the lack of affection, was a wish for your happiness.

Maybe there will be a time you understand that plenty. Maybe some things can never be truly fixed, only forgotten.

Four days days after that, you text Jaehyun a simple happy birthday with a heart at the end of it. You also get a chocolate cake sent to his place from a bakery you like, and when he calls to thank you, you tell him to not post it anywhere.

He laughs and tells you that it's a good idea.

⋄

2007 (flashback)

It was another late afternoon party, for another thing that you couldn’t remember or care about because things like this shouldn't really matter when you are only ten years old. Still, you had watched the other kids play with each other as their parents talked business and laughed, drunk from the bubbly drinks they downed glass after glass of.

For a moment you felt like reaching out and playing with them too, but it died soon and you stayed unmoving on the chair you had been placed in, while your parents did the same as the others somewhere in the distance.

It had been a pretty day, you remember, the sun was about to set and it made the shiny fabric on the tablecloths that were spread around the individual tables set outside, sparkle just the tiniest bit. You played with it to have something to distract yourself with.

You remember too, that Jung Jaehyun and his family were at the table right in front of yours, your parents greeting each other and talking briefly. Later on the party you had watched as he listened to something his mother said to him. She was beautiful, like your own mother, and you had heard her voice before so it had been easy to imagine in what tone she was speaking. Soft and low, how warmth felt like. As to the content of her words you would never know, but it had clearly been something nice because it made her son laugh as she patted his head.

You didn’t know back then that this moment would stick with you for the years to come, for a reason that at ten years old you were just beginning to understand. But still, the weird twist in your stomach, as you started to realize that something was wrong, would be felt many more times. As you realized that your family dynamics were not as warm as the others appeared to be.

⋄

25, FEBRUARY 2018

What you and Jaehyun have turns into something hard to describe.

The line you had so clearly put between the two of you, to avoid your future, had been replaced now by acceptance and the weird feeling of navigating a relationship that It’s still a new thing, but it’s also nice enough. Especially when he sends you a silly text and jokes about something, later on commenting the same thing on one of your instagram posts. It makes you feel giddy, that you have a shared secret.

Even more when he gives you a small knowing smile across the table while your father is non stop talking about the new model the company is about to release.

It’s a small dinner to celebrate Jaehyun’s birthday, or at least as small it can be in a restaurant like this, where the waiter will look you up and down if you are not wearing your prettiest silk dress and stiletto heels.

The whole thing had been rescheduled twice, because of busy schedules and whatnot, and now that both your parents had been able to fly here, you all sit underneath lowlights and drink expensive wine that is accompanied by a conversation that is so boring that you have trouble keeping up with it.

He finds you on the rooftop, hair blowing a little as he walks to you and in the back of your mind you think it’s a crime that he looks this good in a suit. That’s probably all the wine you had talking.

“Sorry I left you alone there.” You mutter with a sympathetic smile thrown his way when he reaches you, but you both know you are not sorry at all for escaping the stupid conversation your parents were having.

He chuckles. “You leaving was just a reason for me to escape too.”

The two of you turn to look at the city, the illuminated buildings looking minuscule from here but the tiny lights from each of them make for a breathtaking view. Jaehyun stands so close to you that your arms touch. You don’t mind.

“Looking at the city like that makes me feel really small.” You whisper, without really thinking.

“That’s because we are.” You hear his voice clearly, warm like honey and you don’t try to help the smile that forms in your lips.

“How do you do it?” The question makes him look at you, raising one eyebrow. “I mean, you always sound like you got it all figured out. While I just say the most random stuff because I don’t know who I am.”

You know you are the heritage left to you, the face of your father's company, a good student, smart. One of the few socialites that have never stepped a foot out of line, according to the magazines. But take all that and what’s left?

“I don't.” He says simply, “I’m just good at pretending, like you are.”

That makes you laugh. “Good to know we are both good at playing our roles.” You say, as a joke, because you are sure the two of you are beyond the acting now.

And It’s always funny to you how the masks the both of you put on fall completely when you are alone. That’s what it means to be friends, you had realized, and that’s what you decide to call your relationship for now. Friends, from a long time, that happened to be tied together for other reasons.

And Jaehyun is a friend that sometimes makes you feel like you deserve the love you crave.

“Hey. You are ____.” He says after a second, for good measure. “That's enough, you don't have to be anything else.”

“Is it enough for you?” You ask without really thinking.

He smiles, dimples showing and your heart grows warmer. “Yeah, and we can figure it out together. Who we are and all that.”

You share a smile, both staring forward at the view and shivering a little from the night wind.

“I’m sorry for getting you into these deep conversations.”

He laughs deeply at that, with his whole body. “It’s good, don’t worry. I want you to trust me, even if you won't let me get to know you.” And you do, you want to desperately trust him and let him in. ”Because you are scared I can't handle your daddy issues or something.”

A scoff mixed with laughter leaves your lips. It’s been a long time since you were able to joke about this with someone. “It’s mommy issues, please get it right.”

He turns to you with a silly smile on his lips. “Is it because she made you take those piano classes?” He jokes and you laugh before tilting your head.

“Wait, how did you know I played the piano?” That was ages ago, finally a hobby that you enjoyed amongst the numerous other classes your mother had enrolled you in. You played it for a long time before you stopped completely for whatever reason.

“You told me, when we had to introduce ourselves and talk about things we liked in german class.” He explains. “You said you liked it, even though your mother forced you to go.”

You turn to him now as it strikes you that Jung Jaehyun remembered you from his childhood the same way you remembered him. Not the same things, but still memories. The thought is so comforting that you can’t hold the way your cheeks move up in a smile.

“What about you?” You question. “What things did you say you liked?”

“Hmm, I don't really remember.” Is what he says with a shrug.

You two share a look, perhaps meaningful but maybe that's the wine making you feel on cloud 9 under his gaze.  “What do you like now?”

He chuckles as if your interest is amusing. “I like… music, getting coffee with friends. That kind of thing.”

“Not cars?” You joke, making him laugh. You decide then that you like making him do it.

“I mean, a little.” He replies playfully, and it’s very easy to be comfortable like this.

It’s good to know after all this time Jaehyun was like you, even if you felt alone in the world sometimes. That’s what a soulmate must be after all, not the missing piece to make you whole but someone that makes you realize exactly that you don't have to be.

“We should get coffee together sometime.” You offer after some time, a gentle smile being shared between you two in laziness, at the thought of soon having to return to the restaurant and popping out of the bubble you have started creating for yourself.

“We should.” He says, and the bubble stays afloat a little longer.

⋄

JULY 2019

It’s another charity Gala, with sparkly lights, champagne, fake smiles and a dress too tight. Everything is the way it always had been, except for you.

And Jaehyun, whose hand stays on your waist as he guides you through a slow song. He had wanted to dance, said he always thought it was nice when lovers did it in movies.

Lovers. The mere use of the word had made your heart somersault in your chest, but you kept it down. Instead, you move with him with soft smiles adorning both of your faces.

Your hand finds his cheeks. Nothing could describe the look you give him in the light but pure admiration. And you don’t care if anyone sees it,  you don’t care if it ends up in a magazine spread. Because even if everybody knew about it, this is yours.

The way he brings his hand on top of yours, and how his eyes match the exact look on yours. Every little detail about it makes you know that this right here belongs to the two of you and nothing can change it.

“Jaehyun?” Your voice is low, almost inaudible underneath the music and conversation echoing through the ballroom. “I don't want to be here anymore.”

His eyebrows raise at your confession, steps faltering for a second as he loses the rhythm “What? We can leave right now if you want.” He offers. “I came with my own car, so we can-“

Your soft laughter interrupts his words. “No, I don't mean right now.” You explain, swallowing around your next words. “I meant.. I don't want to keep playing a role, I want to go somewhere with you where no one knows us.”

A smile grows on his lips, one that tells you that he understands exactly what you mean. And you don’t have to guess anymore, there are no more maybes. You know.

“Okay, we can do that.”

He pulls you closer, dance now long forgotten as you just move in complete muscle memory.

“I want to find out.” You confess in a whisper. A secret between the two of you that no one else would ever know.  “I want to go somewhere with you and find out.”

You wonder if he already found the answer to it, to what love is. But you also don't need to know right now, because you will know when you have to. Either way you want to find out  and it's not for you to guess.

He smiles genuinely at you, with his dimples showing, like he always smiles at you.

You smile back, heart aching from something that can only be only be explained by years of shared stories, and in your mind, deeper connections that go beyond what everything and everyone inside this ballroom would understand.

You smile back, in the exact way you have always smiled at him.

⋄

APRIL 2020

A ray of sun peeks from the half closed curtains and set right above your eyes, getting you to wake up lazily and slowly. It takes you a while to come to it, the sheets on the bed just now starting to feel truly familiar with the warmth left on the bed, from someone that had probably gotten up just a little before from you.

You blink once and twice before your eyes are completely open, vision still unfocused but it slowly comes back as you stare at the bedside table. A lip balm is the first thing you see, then your phone and lastly a picture framed of you and Jaehyun hugging in front of the sunflower field at the Van Gogh museum. He’s laughing, at something said by the kind fellow tourist that had offered to take your picture, and you have the beginning of a smile on your own lips. One that you mimic perfectly now as you remember that day.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the door opening and Jaehyun walks in the bedroom, holding a bowl. His eyes are still drowsy and his hair a mess but you  think he looks right at home. Because he is.

“Morning, baby.” His voice is low and raspy, but enough to make you melt even more on the sheets.

“Good morning.” The smile settles fully on your lips now.

He sits on the bed next to you then, almost drowning inside his large t-shirt and hair plopping cutely when he tries moving even closer to place the bowl with sliced fruits on your lap. “We gotta add apples to the shopping list.” Is all he says and you nod while picking a slice of melon and chewing it leisurely as you bask on the hazy feeling of still being half asleep

Jaehyun stays by your side, head weirdly pressed to your chest, and asking silently for you to feed him apple slices every now and then with just his mouth opening.

Your mind wanders as you eat and then you’re having one of those moments where realization dawns on you finally. A silly small thing that makes you smile and your chest grow warm. “Jaehyun?” You call out softly, fighting back the bubble of happiness that forms on your chest because old habits are hard to die.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you, eyes blinking at you in the same way he always does, but this time it makes you want to cry a little bit.

You lean down, press a quick peck to his lips that make you both smile and then the words are out of your mouth.

“This is what love is.”

[me4gumi-moved]

I’m Not Angry Anymore

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Yagi Toshinori x Daughter!Reader

Warning(s): Shitty Parenting, Angst, Some Strong Language, (Kinda) Child Abandonment

Song: Interlude: I’m Not Angry Anymore by Paramore

Note: This is a counterpart to @kozumeizuku ‘s Twisted

“(Y/N), I’d like for you to meet Midoriya Izuku.” Your father gestured to a 4 year old with freckles and curly green hair. He looked nervous. You walked up to him with a big toothy grin on your face and held your hand out to him,

“Hi, ‘Zuku! I’m (Y/N)!” Your smile didn’t waver as you saw him creep back a little bit.

Your dad pat your head, “Midoriya here is a little shy. His classmates are not very nice to him because he’s quirkless.” You nodded your head in understanding, releasing a small “oh.”

You took a step back from the boy, “I’m sorry your classmates are meanies, Zuku. I like you, though, so don’t listen to them!”

That’s when it all started, you remember. You started to see your dad less and less after you met Midoriya Izuku. At the time, you didn’t understand why, but as you got older it became clear. The blond adult was spending time with Midoriya, training him and being a father figure to him. He used to do that with you, but you’d been replaced. 12 years later and now the two of you were strangers.

You ran up to your father when he got inside the house, a drawing in your hands. You’d drawn him and you wanted to surprise him with it. “Daddy, look!” You hadn’t even pulled the picture out from behind your back when he stopped you. 

“I’m sorry, baby, but I’m about to head back out. I’ll look at it later, okay?” He ruffled your (h/c) hair and gave you one of his big smiles. You nodded sadly. You’d really wanted to show it to him right then. You whispered a soft “okay” before turning around and going to the kitchen. Normally you weren’t allowed in there and you had to ask your live-in nanny or your father to get you what you wanted but you didn’t feel like asking.

You put your drawing on top of the table used for prepping food and walked up to the fridge. That’s where you saw it -- a crude drawing of your father signed “Izuku”. In a flash of anger you grabbed your own drawing and ripped it up into tiny pieces. “(Y/N), (Y/N)! What wrong, sweetheart?” Your nanny, Saki, walked in on you in the middle of your tantrum. You wailed and held your arms out to her and she scooped you up into her comforting arms. She looked down at your ruined drawing and at the one on the fridge. Oh, she would be having a word with your father when she saw him next.

11 years had passed and you still remembered that moment. If you remembered correctly, that was the last time you’d drawn him something.

“Oh, darling, I’m sure he’s just running a little late.” “He must be stuck in traffic.” “Don’t you worry your sweet little head, he’ll be here.” “You know what your daddy says, don’t you? I am here! And he will be, alright?”

That’d been hours ago. The cooks, the maid, the butler, the nanny -- they’d all assured you that your father would make good on his promise. He’d promised to spend the day with you -- to go see a movie and get lunch. That was at 10:00 AM, it was now 6:00 PM.

You sat at the table in the kitchen, lazily moving the spoon in your chicken noodle soup around. It’d long since gotten cold. “Would you like me to heat it back up for you, little lady?” One of the cooks asked you. Mr. Yuji was nice -- he always slipped you snacks while the others weren’t looking. He’d been here since before you were born. He was wrinkly and his hair had thinned out with age. He was like a grandpa to you. “Or do you want something else?”

You pushed the bowl over to him, “No...‘m not really hungry.” You folded your arms on the table and rested the side of your head on them. Mr. Yuji put a hand to your forehead, checking your temperature.

“Your temperature seems normal. Are you sure you’re not hungry, missy?” He smoothed back your hair. You nodded silently. You were tired, sad, and disappointed. It ruined your appetite. He took the bowl off the table and poured its contents out into the sink, “Alright, well if you get hungry in the middle of the night, let me know. I’ll make you something.”

“M’kay.”

The swinging door to the kitchen opened but you didn’t bother to look at who it was. You recognized your father’s heavy footsteps, “Hey, baby. What are you...doing?” Before he could finish speaking, you hopped down from the bar stool, walked around him, and left the kitchen. As you walked away, you could hear him ask Mr. Yuji something. “Is she okay?”

You think that was when you’d stopped asking to spend time with your father. 7 years had passed and you could still feel the emotions your 11 year old self had gone through that day.

Your fists were clenched, your face towards the ceiling, and your lips pressed into a thin line. You were fighting back tears. You were tired. You were tired of this. You were tired of broken promises. You were tired of being second best. It was your 16th birthday, and your father missed it because of him. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” Your father had the nerve to ask. You clenched your jaw.

“What’s wrong?” You copied. “What’s wrong?!” You looked at him, the hot tears already running at a steady pace down your cheeks. “What’s wrong is that you missed my fucking birthday! Again! That’s 10 years in a fucking row!” You snarled. You didn’t care if you were acting like a spoiled brat.

He stood there in shock. You wiped your tears on your forearm, “What I want to know is why -- why didn’t you show up like you promised?” You had given up on him. All you wanted was a reason why. You already knew but you wanted him to say it.

“It’s Young Midoriya’s--” You cut him off with a laugh. A completely and utterly, joyless laugh.

“Just as I thought.” You scoffed. You pulled out a chair from the dining room table and plopped down on it. You were exhausted and numb, “Midoriya this, Midoriya that. It’s always about Midoriya.” You wondered if your father even knew what he was doing to you. He probably didn’t, he was so oblivious when it came to his own child.

Your father -- the oh so wonderful All Might -- walked up and took the seat next to you. “That’s not true and you know it, (Y/N).”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” You turned in your seat to face him. “Tell me, Dad, when was the last time we spent my birthday together?”

“Well, um--” He stuttered.

“Last meal we had together? Last time you showed up to one of my award ceremonies? Last time we spent time together? Last time we had a real conversation?” You asked question after question, knowing he wouldn’t have the answer to any of them.

“(Y/N), that’s not fair--” “I’m not trying to be!”

Silence.

“When was the last time you told me you loved me?” Your voice cracked. The blond didn’t say a word. You sighed and stood up from your seat, “I’m moving out tomorrow. Don’t try to stop me -- I’ve already made up my mind.”

That was 2 years ago and you hadn’t talked with your father since. 

A knock came at your door. It must’ve been one of your classmates asking for your notes again. You got up from your desk and opened the door without a second thought. “I’m not giving you my...notes. Oh, it’s you.” Standing in front of you was your father’s successor — Midoriya Izuku. You hadn’t seen much of him since your childhood.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Can...can I come in?” You stepped aside and held the door open for him. He awkwardly stepped past you and stood around the middle of your room. “Your room. It’s nice.” Izuku complimented.

“It’s alright, I guess.” You shrugged. You had a platform bed with lots of pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals on it. A bean bag chair sat next to it. Your walls were white but there were so many posters and pictures on them you could barely see the paint anyways. Fairy lights were strung up around the room and LED clouds were hanging from your ceiling. There was a bookcase filled with, well, books. Next it was your desk — it was normal but there were knick knacks, notebooks, and too many pens spread across it.

“No, no — it’s really cool. It’s a lot more cool than my room.” He assured you. You hummed. You didn’t really need to guess what his dorm room was like.

You put your hand on your hip, “Let me guess, yours is covered top to bottom, wall to wall in my dad’s merchandise. Is that right?” A blush erupted on the younger teens face. You’d hit the nail right on the head. You laughed and clapped his shoulder. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. You really admire him, don’t you?” You smiled.

He was nervous, you could tell. “Yeah, I guess so.” He looked away from you.

“Alright, have a seat. There’s obviously something you want to talk to me about.” You plopped down on the bean bag chair next to your bed.

Izuku sat down at your desk. “I wanted to talk to you about All Might.” He stated. You hummed and nodded your head — as to be expected.

“I honestly don’t know much about him, Izuku.” You told the truth. “He’s never really been around much for me.” Izuku cringed at your statement.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about with you.” He ruffled his own hair.

“If you’re about to apologize, don’t.”

“What?” Izuku’s green eyes met your (e/c) ones for the first time since he’s been here. “I-I don’t understand. I’m the reason he-“

“I’m going to stop you right there, Izuku.” You shift around in your bean bag. “Everything he did, was in no way your fault. They were his choices to make and he chose you over me, time and time again.” You said bluntly. “But that wasn’t your fault. Sure, for a time I did resent you but as I got older, I came to realize you had no say in how he treated me. You were just a kid and so was I. I know how much you admire him but it’s the truth when I say he’s the one at fault here. You don’t have to apologize for his actions.” You got up and walked up to him. You ruffled his hair, “I never once blamed you, Midoriya Izuku.”

Tears welled up in the curly haired teen’s virus in eyes but he quickly started to rub them away. “Geez, you’ve always been such a crybaby. I thought you would’ve grown out of that already.” You jokingly pushed his head. You’d always thought of him as a younger brother, even when you hated his guts as a child.

“Sorry, I just…” He sniffled. “I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.” You wish you’d known he was carrying all this guilt sooner — you could’ve already relieved him of the burden.

“It’s alright. I understand.”

That was a few months ago. Talking with Izuku like that, it really did help you understand why your relationship with All Might is the way it is.

“Have you talked with your father recently?” Your therapist asked after you finished recounting your childhood with her. She’d needed an updated version now that you were 18.

You shook your head, “No, but he did leave me a voicemail the other day — he asked how I was doing, talked about how he was proud of my grades, told me to make sure I eat and drink enough water.” You appreciated that he was trying, but you weren’t ready to make amends with him.

“Did you call him back?”

“No. I don’t think I’m ready to talk to him just yet. Only recently had I accepted what he’d done.” You explained to her.

She nodded, “That’s alright. It’s all a part of the process. You’ll be ready eventually, and when you do, you’ll be one step closer to leave this all behind you.” You hummed your agreement.

“Have you seen or heard anything from your brother recently?”

“You sound just like the police.” You laughed.