#will it be serious matter or boy drama

[frankenjoly]

Boy troubles

mori & fukuchi having beef: gakuen edition

Training had been pretty successful that one afternoon, which had really done wonders for Fukuzawa’s mood after the morning classes; if one listened close enough, they could even hear him softly hum as he returned the swords to their usual place. His day wasn’t finished yet, but with a little luck it could turn out to be quite calm and…

… and upon returning, Yukichi quickly realized he might have to ‘fight’ for said calm. Of course.

“Aren’t you a bit too young, anyway?” Gen’ichirô was saying, almost innocently, when it was clear as day he knew the answer already.

“I’m just a year below you two, remember?” Mori instantly answered, braiding the hair of that blonde doll of his as if that was his only remedy against snapping. Not like Fukuzawa was worried about it actually happening, though. Both of them’s preferred style of quarrel with each other tended to be some sort of cold war which had him as the objective.

Because obviously, he had noticed. Besides, the way their heads turned towards him instantly left very little room for doubt.

“Fukuzawa-senpai,” Mori then asked. “Are you free this Friday? Because–”

“No way.” Gen’ichirô cut him off. “We’re having practice after class on Friday too, and then–” Fukuzawa stared at both of them, biting back a sigh. At least, he could end the whole thing with something as powerful as the truth.

Hopefully.

“I’m sorry, Mori-kun, Gen’ichirô. I promised Ranpo-kun ice cream after training.”

(Also on ao3.)

[hiraethwrote]

Nanami is more of a listener than a talker, and would happily listen to you ramble on and on about anything that would pop into your mind. And no matter how little it really concerns him, he’ll always pay attention to when you explain something so enthusiastically — even if it’s a silly internet trend or drama.

Nanami is definitely not the guy to have TikTok, but would on occasion lift his attention from his book when you’re both laying in bed to quietly watch along for a few minutes.

Nanami is not the type of guy to really form any defining opinion on said internet controversies — except the videos of grooms disrespecting their brides at the alter in their vows. When you tell him about the men who only spew vulgar statements to their future wives, you witness Nanami get incredibly angry, going on a long and serious tangent about how these boys are immature and have no business getting married at all.

Nanami is the type of guy who would spontaneously pull you out of the chair in the calm hours of the evening to slow dance with you around the living room. Sometimes he’d put on some calm and beautiful melodies to play in the background, but sometimes he would just slow waltz without the music, casual chatter filling the void instead.

Nanami is the type of guy who’d pull your feet in his lap to massage them after a long day, without you asking for it.

Nanami is the type of guy who looooves to cook for you, and he does it as often as he possibly can. And when he does, he loves to feed you small bites during the process for you to taste everything.

Nanami is, of course, a respectable man — meaning he doesn’t engage all that much in pda. But he’ll happily walk beside you with your fingers intertwined with his, or he’ll have a tender hand on the small of your back to guide you when has to let go.

Nanami however, has one physical need and that is kissing the back of your hand, which he will do wherever and whenever. Walking the grocery store; lift your hand to his lips. Meeting up for lunch; lift your hand to his lips. Waiting in line for a restaurant; lift your hand to his lips.

Nanami is the type of guy that would love being a girl’s dad. It would be the highlight of his day to come home from work, only to squeeze into one of her small chairs in her bedroom and would put on the most convincing act of sipping tea from the empty cup, a pretty tiara at the very top of his head.

Nanami is the type of guy who would love planning the wedding along with you. He hates the idea of loading all the responsibility on the bride, because he wants to celebrate your love just as much as you do.

Nanami is the type of guy, who once he falls in love, he’s settled.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[rafecameronssl4t]

Officially your bitch || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: basically what happened in s1 ep 2 when Sarah is getting a teddy from the boat with Rafe, Kelce, and Topper watching but obvs slightly different. (you being the one faking being hurt)

Warnings: swearing, mention of gun,

Word count: 977

A/n: canon fics are so fun to write 😫

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board here

"Jeez, man, this is nuts." Topper lets out a low whistle, staring at a boat nestled in someone's garden bed. "Agatha's a bitch," Rafe mutters. "Damn right, she is," Kelce adds as the three boys gape at the sight.

"I can't get it outta my head. It's on repeat. 'Your move, broski.'" Topper repeats JJ's words from a couple nights ago, when a gun was pointed at his head. "Bro, he had a semiautomatic pointed right at you!" Kelce chimes in.

"That's what I'm saying. It's insane!" Topper scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Safety off!" he emphasizes, his voice rising. Kelce shakes his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and disdain. "That pogue," he mutters, his tone dripping with contempt.

Rafe, who had been staring intently at the waterline, snaps back to the conversation. His gaze sharpens as he looks at his friends. "They're freakin' pogues, man," he declares, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and exasperation.

"You know, you should get a piece," Rafe suggests, his voice steady as he looks at Topper. The gravity of his words hangs in the air. "What do you mean?" Topper asks, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he turns to Rafe.

"You gotta fight fire with fire and defend the homestead," Rafe replies matter-of-factly, as if it's the most logical solution in the world. "Better than being caught without one," Kelce shrugs, offering his own brand of nonchalant support. Rafe nods in agreement, his gaze unwavering.

"Listen guys, I'm gonna get him back, all right? I'm making it a little project of mine," Topper reassures them. Rafe hums approvingly, patting his friend's back. "Yeah, you should," he affirms with a smirk.

Kelce suddenly taps Rafe's shoulder. "Yo, that's y/n." Rafe and Topper turn their heads in unison, their curiosity piqued. They see you kneeling on one knee, talking gently to Joy, your mum's best friend's little daughter.

"Oh, so you left her in the boat?" you ask softly, your voice filled with understanding. Joy nods, her eyes wide with worry. "Okay, can you tell me what she looks like?" you stand up, smoothing down your shorts. Joy looks up at you, her face serious. "She has a trunk and blue eyes," she replies, her small voice clear.

The three boys watch intently as you smile reassuringly at Joy. "Okay, I'm gonna get her for you," you say, turning towards the boat. "Be careful of the electricity," Joy quietly warns. You smile to yourself, touched by her concern, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you carefully step onto the boat.

"Don't worry, I'll be okay. It's really dangerous, so stay there, okay?" you reassure Joy with a confident smile. Rafe, standing a few feet away, removes his sunglasses, his eyes narrowing as he watches your every move. "What's she doing?" he mutters to no one in particular, his concern evident.

"Watch her fall and make a big drama out of it," your brother scoffs, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed by your antics. Rafe glances at Topper, eyebrows raised. "Hey! There's 14,000 volts in those wires," Joy's mum calls out urgently from the porch, her voice filled with anxiety.

You take a slow, deliberate step onto the plank, feeling it wobble slightly under your weight. With a mischievous grin, you glance back at the onlookers, enjoying the attention. A quiet shriek escapes your lips as you pretend to lose your balance for a moment.

"Hey, y/n, be careful!" Rafe hollers, his voice louder and more urgent now. He takes a step forward, his body tense with concern. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," your mum mutters as she walks out onto the yard, her face a mask of frustration and fear. "Y/n, get down now!" she shouts, her tone a mix of anger and desperation.

"Mum, calm down. I'm an athlete. I got this," you reply playfully, flashing her a reassuring smile as you continue your careful approach toward the boat. Your confidence does little to ease the tension among the onlookers. The plank creaks under your weight, but you maintain your balance,

"You're gonna get electrocuted! Get down!" your mum screams, her voice trembling with panic. You ignore her, your focus on the gentle sway of the boat as you step onto it. "She just wants attention," Topper mutters, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Are you kidding me?" your mum persists, her tone growing more frantic. You turn to face her, a playful grin spreading across your face as you shimmy your shoulders, teasingly.

"Oh my—no. When I tell your dad about this, y/n!" Your mum exclaims, her voice a mix of exasperation and genuine fear. "Y/n, that's not fucking funny," Rafe yells in annoyance, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He watches you with a mixture of concern and irritation, unable to shake off the worry that gnaws at him.

"Little fried y/n," Topper comments, a smirk playing on his lips as he observes the scene unfold. Kelce looks at him, puzzled by the comment, but Topper simply shrugs it off. "Top, your sister's crazy, man," Kelce remarks, shaking his head in disbelief as Topper snorts, "Tell me about it."

With a knowing smile, you reach the boat and spot the disconnected wire exactly where you expected it to be. "I see her!" you call out across the yard as you place a steady hand on the boat.

"Y/n!" your mum's voice echoes for what feels like the hundredth time, a mixture of frustration and genuine concern laced in her tone. "When I tell your dad—" Her words are abruptly cut off by your convincing scream as you pretend to slip into the boat. "Fuck—" Rafe's reaction is immediate, his instincts kicking in as he rushes forward.

After a few seconds, you grab the cord, swinging it in front of you with a smile. Kelce breaks out in laughter at your prank, the sound mingling with the collective sighs of everyone watching. Rafe's face fills with relief and annoyance as his tongue pokes agains this inner cheek. "It's disconnected!" you announce with a laugh.

"Holy shit!" Kelce smacks Rafe's shoulder, his eyes wide with amusement as he looks at you, clearly annoyed and unimpressed. "For the love of God," your mum mutters as she slips her sunglasses back on and strides away, clearly needing a moment to recover from the prank.

"She got you good, man," Kelce snickers, unable to hide his laughter at Rafe's bewildered expression. "Absolute suckers!" you crow from the boat, your laughter ringing out triumphantly. "Babe, you should see your face," you giggle, retrieving Joy's teddy bear. "Yeah, okay, yeah, I'm sorry that I care. All right, guilty," Rafe throws his hands up in mock surrender though his face expression remained annoyed.

As Rafe stands there, still trying to process what just happened, he feels a hand on his shoulder. "Congrats, dude. You're officially her bitch," Topper says with a smirk, offering his congratulations in his own unique way. Rafe rolls his eyes at the jest.

"Alright." Topper gives Rafe a hearty pat on the back. "Officially, did you know that? You're officially her bitch, alright?" Topper's laughter rings out as he teases Rafe, but Rafe isn't having any of it. With a swift motion, he slaps away Topper's hand. "Shut the fuck up, dude," he grumbles, shaking his head in annoyance before striding over to you.

"See! Just further proved my point, bro!" Topper yells amidst his laughter, clearly enjoying the reaction he's getting. Kelce joins in, chuckling at the playful banter unfolding before him.

Rafe reaches you, offering his hand despite his lingering annoyance. You giggle at the exchange, finding his frustration amusing. "Are you fucking crazy?" Rafe spits, his irritation evident, but you can't help but laugh at his reaction.

"Aww, I love you too, babe," you playfully pout, quickly kissing his lips before turning your attention back to Joy, handing her teddy bear over with a smile. Rafe stands there with a defeated look, unable to stay mad for long.

[pumpkinbxtch]

hi!!! I was wondering if you could do hcs for what arguing would be like with the HOO boys

Don't talk me like that! | headcanons

— arguing with the hoO boys

warnings: angst, language, boys being...boys

who's here: jason grace, leo valdez, frank zhang ands percy jackson.

a/n: ohh ohh ohhh, yes. I can. I love drama.

— jason grace:

To get into a real fight with him, you must have come a long way because he's so peaceful and always tries to negotiate calmly, making sure both of you communicate effectively. But at the end of the day, you're like any other couple and sometimes end up having real fights.

The big issue is Jason's nature. He goes silent when he's really upset, his emotions hard to show.

When he’s that mad, you can see it on his face. It’s scary, let’s not lie.

When the ice breaks, he tries to take charge to explain what's wrong, which often makes things worse.

He keeps his distance when you argue, tense and rigid. He’s like a handsome, angry log.

Sometimes he says things reluctantly, like "don't act childish," which is so him.

Yes, he raises his voice and gets frustrated, "no, I said NO, THAT’S NOT HOW IT IS, gods…"

If you're wondering if his powers show, the answer is NEVER, or at least not against you. His mouth might taste like metal or his fingers might spark, but that's just him being really stressed.

His eyes get cloudy and grey.

He takes off his glasses and rubs his temples while muttering.

When things finally start to work out, he breathes better and starts talking more because he knows nothing will work if he doesn’t.

He’s practical, coming up with solutions to problems.

When the fight's over, he hugs you and kisses your forehead, relieved to be out of that situation.

Can he stay mad for days? Depends on the problem, but he’d prefer it doesn't last more than a day.

— leo valdez;

Leo and you usually argue over small things because you have that kind of relationship where you bicker and tease for fun, but when things get serious, the arguments can get heated (get it? heated? laugh, please).

That’s when things get tough. He may seem easy-going, but Leo has a strong temper and is very stubborn when he's mad. Whatever made you really fight doesn't matter because he’ll be stuck on his point.

"No, that's not how it happened." You could be contradicting each other all day until you both turn away and stop talking.

"Well, screw you!" you say, and he growls back, "Yeah, you too," swearing in Spanish. "vale ma-" "me lleva la ch-"

Yes, he switches languages mid-sentence.

"I already told you no! CUANTAS VECES TENGO QUE DECIRLO, carajo!-"

If you know Spanish, you can reply; if not...

"I don’t understand you, idiot. Say it in English or fuck yourself ." (just in case because you’re not sure what he said)

Swearing is common if he's really mad, but it's more his way of dealing with it than being mad at you.

That or sharp sarcasm.

Yes, he might cry if the argument is really bad.

His rigid feelings and insecurity can come up.

Leo is attached, so he’s constantly thinking of ways to fix it because he can’t stand being away from you for too long.

He keeps his distance, terrified of hurting you with his powers, which makes him nervous. "No, DON’T COME NEAR ME." It's for your safety, but it hurts him to see the look in your eyes when he says it.

Can he stay mad for days? Absolutely, but he misses you a lot, though his pride might keep him from showing it.

Don’t worry, he’ll eventually sit down to talk it out, and you’ll both calm down and fix things.

Then he'll give you a big hug and kiss your cheeks.

— frank zhang:

it’s hard to imagine: WHAT DID YOU DO TO FIGHT?

Yes, Frank is Mars’s son, but he’d never choose the battlefield for his lover. He’s very careful and always considerate, but yeah he can be severe when things get bad, and when isn't enough just have a serious talk.

You end up fighting in not-so-quiet whispers, with your faces and gestures being the most expressive.

"Of course not, I already told you, hey!" He raises his hands, and his body tenses up threateningly.

Frank tries to understand your point and make himself heard, always mindful of both your feelings. He knows how to set boundaries.

Sometimes, he just can’t take it anymore and signals a pause. "You know what? This is getting too much, and neither of us is in the best shape. Let’s talk tomorrow or later, please."

Does he raise his voice? Hardly, only when he really needs to make a point.

His eyes are bright, tinged with sadness and anger. The deadliest is his calm face or the way he slightly curls his lip, almost growling.

His eyebrows always seem to be touching, even if he doesn’t want them to.

He keeps a cool head to solve things.

Can he stay mad for days? Yes, while clearing his mind and thinking. He’ll come up to you, and you’ll talk it out, making things work in the end.

He’ll take your hand. You might feel guilty for pushing a guy like Frank to his limit, but he doesn’t mind having relationship problems with you:

"I hope we fight many more times, but about totally different things because it means we’ve really solved the previous issues."

— percy jackson:

wtf did you both do to get into a fight?

Percy won't waste a second, trying to resolve it immediately by asking and reflecting on his own actions. "What did I do wrong?" if it was his fault. "Can you listen to me for a second?" if it was you.

He hates being mad at you, just can’t stand it. But if the fight starts, he wants to start or finish it (or both).

Yes, he might cry.

Yes, he might raise his voice. "No, I didn't do anything. LISTEN TO ME."

Then he apologizes for it because he lost it.

He tries to hold your hands and says, "Babe, babe…"

He makes you both breathe and talk calmly.

He argues, of course, but differently. He’ll stop the conversation. "You know what? I'll think about it." He leaves or makes you leave.

Consequently, he might stay mad for days, or both of you might be mad at each other, but he’s thinking of what to say rather than just calming down. (Nothing wrong with that, everyone handles feelings differently and that's valid.)

Yes, he asks his mom.

Yes, he asks Paul.

You both end up fixing things, and he hugs you tight, giving you kisses all over your face while pouting.

"I missed you, babe."

[rmadridcore]

Man Flu

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Summary: Jude Bellingham may be a world class athlete on the pitch, but when a little flu knocks him down, he transforms into the world’s biggest drama queen.

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

Author’s note: I’ve been planning to write for Jude in a little bit, but I feel like a fun little fic about him would be a good idea now. The things right now are very confusing and overwhelming, so here is a little distraction for everyone. If you guys will like my writing about him, I have another Jude story coming soon, maybe a few more 🤭 Anyway, enjoy this one & let me know what you think 🫂💘

The sound of Jude’s violent coughs echoed through your shared bedroom. He had been up all night with a high fever, sore throat, and coughing so hard it sounded like his lungs were trying to escape his body. Snuggled into his blanket, he wore an utterly annoyed expression on his face.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Jude rarely got sick, he was always so healthy and cautious, but on the rare occasion that he did, it broke your heart. You had been taking care of him all day: bringing him medications, cooking for him, making sure he stayed warm, hydrated, and well-rested.

It would’ve been much easier if Jude hadn’t turned his plain old flu into a near-death experience. Sure, he hated being sick and hated missing training even more, but it was clear he was enjoying the rare opportunity to lounge around in bed all day with you waiting on him hand and foot.

The chicken soup you made was getting cold while you were desperate for him to start eating.

“Why are you acting like a three year old?” you asked, your patience wearing thin.

“I’m not hungry, and even if I was, I’m too tired to move my hand or my mouth. And it’s cold too,” he said, sniffling dramatically.

“Jude, I can’t give you the medicine on an empty stomach. You have to eat something,” you insisted, exasperated. He shook his head, burrowing deeper into his blanket cocoon until only his eyes and nose were visible.

This man was the most trustworthy and strongest person in your life. You were certain that no matter what obstacle life threw at you, he would handle anything and be there to hold your hand through every challenge. He had proven that countless times. Despite everything he had been through, he remained a top player and an even better human being.

But you had no idea how on earth he managed to turn into a sappy little baby the moment an ounce of virus entered his system. It was like watching Superman crumble at the sight of a tiny piece of kryptonite. The same man who could face down a stadium full of roaring fans without flinching was now reduced to a blanket burrito, whining about soup temperature and acting as if a common cold was the end of the world.

“Jude, please baby, just eat.” You were practically begging now. He shook his head again, even more firmly. “I can’t. I really can’t.” He whined. You sighed in defeat, about to leave the bedroom.

“Unless…” His voice trailed off. You paused. “Unless what?”

“Unless… you could feed me?” He mumbled, avoiding eye contact. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. Was he serious? This 6’1, strong, broad-shouldered athlete wanted you to spoon-feed him chicken soup?

“Are you for real right now?” His silence said everything. You stood there, dumbfounded for a solid seven seconds before realizing you had no other choice. He needed to take his medicine, and if spoon-feeding him was the only way, so be it.

Taking a seat next to him, he sat up with a huge, satisfied grin on his face, looking like a little boy about to devour his favorite treat.

“I can’t believe you,” you said, half-laughing, half-annoyed as you spooned the soup into his mouth.

“You really are a little baby, aren’t you?” You pinched his cheeks, and his smile faltered, replaced by an irritated look. “If I were you, I’d choose my words carefully. Considering how shitty I feel, this might be the very last conversation we have,” he said, his tone so serious you almost believed him.

You burst out laughing. “You have a sore throat, Jude. I think we’ll survive.” He shrugged dramatically. “You never know. I might not make it through the night.” His ridiculousness was getting out of hand.

After finishing the soup, he snuggled back into bed, looking very pleased with himself. “Was the soup good?” you asked.

“I couldn’t taste it, but I’m sure it was great. There’s nothing about you that doesn’t taste good,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes at his cheesy line, giving his nose a playful nudge. Even when sick, he couldn’t resist flirting.

Minutes later, you returned with his medicine and a glass of water.

“Do I have to?” he asked, grimacing at the pill in his palm.

You sighed. “Jude, do you want to get better or not?”

After a reluctant look at your raised eyebrow, he took the pill. The minuscule, almost nonexistent bitterness of the pill caused him to scrunch up his face as if he had just swallowed a lemon dipped in hot sauce. You couldn’t believe the level of drama this man could reach when he was sick.

Finally, when his face returned to normal, you climbed into bed beside him. He immediately rested his head on your chest, hugging you tightly.

Despite his theatrics, you couldn’t deny how adorable he was, especially when he craved your touch more than ever when he wasn’t feeling well.

As you stroked his head, he nuzzled into your neck. “Thank you, my love,” he whispered.

“For what?” you asked, confused.

“For taking care of me,” he said sweetly, melting your heart.

“Always,” you replied sincerely. No matter how sick or dramatic he got, you were always ready to take care of him, just as he was always there for you.

“Let’s just hope this isn’t my last day on earth. But if I do die in my sleep, at least I’ll die holding you.” You groaned loudly, rolling your eyes. “Oh my god, Jude. You are so ridiculous.”

He chuckled. “But I’m your ridiculous.” You couldn’t argue with that. Despite his dramatics, Jude was the sweetest, funniest, most endearing man you had ever known. The list of reasons you loved him was endless.

As his breathing steadied and he fell asleep in your arms, you smiled, stroking his head gently.

Just as you were about to drift off, a loud, intense cough startled you awake. You groaned again.

“Well, at least I’m still alive,” he muttered.

This guy will be the death of you.

[lisired]

love jones

pairing: photographer!haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, strangers to lovers, hollywood!au, photographer!haechan, model!reader, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wr- [gets hit by a car])

summary: After breaking off your engagement to your fiance, you move to Los Angeles to pursue a modeling career. There in the fairytale land where stars go to shine you meet Haechan, an aspiring photographer with a penchant for mischief and flirtation.

word count: 12.4k (/25.5k)

a/n: inspired by love jones; the song by leon thomas featuring ty dolla $ign and the movie by theodore witcher. this is a repost of an old fic that i will be publishing in 2 installments; it is also the prequel to supermodel, which you do not have to read. installment two will be linked here when posted. as always, feedback is appreciated!

The air was different in California. 

“The land of make-believe,” you sighed, holding the cold metal bar in your hands. This was your new home. Sine die. 

Better than New York City, you muttered crankily to yourself. Everything there reminded you of him. Every street, every scent. You would rather not think of the asshole that cheated on you with another woman while you gave him everything. California, on the other hand, was a brand new slate. Free of assholes that showed other girls their penises while being months away from vowing forever to you. You had let out a massive sigh of relief when your doctor confirmed that you didn’t have any infections.

Still, you fondled the engagement band on your finger. 

“I know you’re not out here thinking about he who shall not be named,” Chaewon chided in disapproval, hands on her hips. 

You turned around. You hadn’t heard the door open. When she came beside you, you turned around again, facing the busy street just below of you. 

“No. I’m not thinking about him,” you lied through your teeth. “I’m just brooding.”

“Same damn thing.”

You rolled your eyes. 

Chaewon back-hugged you and wrapped her arms around your waist snugly, making you giggle. “I forbid you from thinking about that asshole any longer. The whole point of you coming here was to forget about him.”

“And the new opportunities,” you added. 

“Exactly. He was holding you back. He wanted to be the man and bring home the bacon, and couldn’t stand the thought of you being a successful independent woman perfectly capable of taking care of her damn self,” Chaewon said without taking a single breath. 

You mulled it over. That was a little too true. Your ex-boyfriend always talked about having kids and taking care of you and them, but you hated to think that your independence might’ve driven him away. “But you don’t just forget about the life and broken promises of the future you made,” you whispered sadly. 

Chaewon let out a little sigh. She was sad for you. Her heart, too. 

Then, she backed off and said, “You know what? We’re going to the club.”

You gawked and did a one-eighty. Full speed. “What?”

“You heard me. And put that ring up, girl. You’re not gonna get any dick if a man sees that on your finger. I don’t know why you haven’t given it back to him yet. Better yet, you should throw it off a mountain. We have plenty.”

“Oh, please,” you replied boredly. “I know these Los Angeles boys don’t give a damn. They would fuck the hole between the ring if their dicks were small enough.”

“Oh, don’t bring your Manhattan bullshit over here. The boys I know have decorum,” Chaewon replied matter-of-factly. 

“I’m sure,” you deadpanned. 

Chaewon cocked her head at you and planted her hands on her hips. “When you’re done being a drama queen, you need to go change into something risqué. I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up.”

“Yes, Mother,” you said coolly, in spite of not being even the least bit inclined to bump and grind at a club tonight. 

“I’m serious. If that ring’s not off your finger by the time I get back, I’m kicking some ass.” Then, she went back inside. You shook your head. Los Angeles, you thought. What am I going to do with you?

The club was packed with people, which was to be expected given that it was a Friday night. You paid them no attention, sticking close to Chaewon like a toddler kept close to their mother’s bosom. 

“And I told her, ‘but that doesn’t make any sense. Gladys Presley popped Elvis Presley out of her coochie eighty-six years ago. There’s no way you could be his mother.’”

The group laughed at Jeno. 

Jaemin hurled back a shot of vodka and added, “Gladys Presley didn’t look happy in a single picture I’ve seen of her.”

“Shit. If my son was Elvis Presley, I wouldn’t exactly be exhilarated either,” Ryujin quipped. 

Mark covered her mouth. “Lower your voice. You cannot say that too loud out here.”

Ryujin shoved him off. “Get your hands off me, freak,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. 

The group laughed again. Except for Mark. 

And Haechan. 

Winter casted a glance at Haechan. “What’s up with the sun man?”

Jaemin, who was to the left of Haechan, nudged him and asked, “What’s wrong, my man?”

Haechan didn’t even blink. He was too busy staring past the tables. Something had evidently caught his eye. 

Jeno followed his gaze and snickered. He spotted you, sitting at the bar with Chaewon. “I know what’s got my boy’s attention.”

Everyone glanced where Jeno was looking. There you were, obliviously laughing and chattering with your best friend. You were wearing a flimsy black dress now in lieu of the dolphin shorts you’d worn while moving the last of your stuff inside your new condo. 

“Damn, she’s bad,” Jaemin murmured under his breath. 

Winter angrily hit him. 

Jaemin immediately stammered, “I mean, you’re badder. She’s nothing compared to you. I’m just saying she’s a little cute. For someone like Haechan, maybe.”

The table erupted in laughter. 

“Mm-hm,” Winter hummed doubtfully, crossing her arms. 

“Come on, baby. You know I’ve only got eyes for you,” Jaemin said, giving Winter a smooch to the cheek. “Billions of girls in the world and I still choose you. You’re the only one I want.”

Mark deadpanned, “He’s so smooth.” 

“He must get it from you,” Ryujin shot, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Mark shot her a glare. 

Jeno draped an arm around Haechan’s shoulder. “Come on, man. You just gonna sit and stare at her or what? You gotta make a move.”

Ryujin quipped, “And what do you know about making moves?” 

“August twelfth, two years ago.” 

Ryujin narrowed her eyes at him. “Only losers who get little play remember the exact date they fucked somebody.”

“Well, that says a lot more about you than it does about me, doesn’t it? I could have been talking about anything,” Jeno quipped, smirking. 

The boys, especially Mark, laughed. Winter fought a chuckle in female solidarity. 

“I pieced it together,” Ryujin mumbled. 

“It’s okay to admit you’re a little lonely, Ryujin. I mean, after Sunwoo fled to Chicago, I can only imagine it’s been a long minute since you’ve gotten any attention downstairs,” Mark crooned like potent venom. 

There were a couple of ‘ooh’s from the boys. 

“You guys are annoying,” Haechan finally said after having not spoken for the past few minutes. Which was unusual for someone like him. “I’m going to go get her number. Watch this.”

The table whooped and hollered, cheering him on. Meanwhile, he approached you stealthily, popping a stick of gum. 

Haechan sat at the available seat to your left (because Chaewon was to your right) and greeted, “Hello, ladies.”

Chaewon took one glance at the handsome stranger to your left and had raging heart eyes. You, on the other hand, were wishing you would have ignored her and brought your ring to deter any unwanted visitors. The one thing he was good for, you grumbled to yourself. But if you were being honest with yourself, the stranger was pretty cute. Pretty brown eyes, like your ex-fiancé. Smooth skin. And he had the cutest, most kissable lips. If you hadn’t already written him off as bad news, you would have let yourself be interested. 

“Hi, handsome,” Chaewon flirted, giggling like an idiot. You stiffened. You knew your way around men, but you weren’t in the mood. 

Haechan smiled, but he was all eyes for you. Ironically, you were wishing he would disappear. He asked, “Can I have your name?”

“You haven’t done anything to deserve it,” you replied with complete disinterest. 

“Hard to get. I fuck with it,” Haechan noted. “What do you want me to do?”

You pretended to be in thought. “You can start by removing yourself from my vicinity. Please and thank you.”

Chaewon winced and told him your name.

“Chae,” you groaned.  

Haechan repeated after her. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

“Oh, could you be any more original?” you deadpanned. “By the way, I’m engaged.”

Haechan laughed. “You are definitely not engaged. I know that and I know nothing about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “And how would you know that?” 

“Because engaged people have engaged people vibes. You have painfully strong ‘I hate anything that has to do with love and romance’ vibes,” Haechan answered slickly, then leaned close to sing for only your ears, “And I don’t see an engagement ring on your finger.”

Chaewon was having a laugh at your expense. Meanwhile, this stranger pulled back and smirked at you, reading your thoughts. You wanted to be mad that he was right, but you kind of liked his voice in your ear.

“She’s single,” Chaewon added, as if it were necessary. “Maybe not ready to mingle though.”

You were fighting the most irritated groan at this point. 

Haechan raised his hands and backed off, taking the mean scowl on your face as a firm ‘no’ and the rejection coolly. “That’s cool. Look, I’ll leave you ladies alone. Have a good night.”

“You, too,” Chaewon said, waving him goodbye as he stepped off the barstool. 

When he was finally gone, you let out a breath of relief. 

Chaewon gave you a look. “He’s so into you. I’m not even mad. You fumbled so bad. He’s fine as hell.”

“You’re forgetting that I didn’t ask to be dragged to this club in the first place. I don’t want to get dicked down by some dude whose name I don’t even know,” you grumbled, finishing what was left in your cup. 

“I’m sure he would have given it to you if you asked,” she replied teasingly. 

You rolled your eyes. “He can keep it to himself. I don’t want to fuck and forget.”

“Ugh, lame,” Chaewon groaned. “Fuck and forget is every young model’s motto.”

“Well, not mine,” you huffed, vexed. With a smidge of attitude. 

Chaewon noticed your tone and frowned. “Okay, timeout. Babe, listen. I’m not trying to pressure you into doing anything you don’t wanna do. If you don’t wanna fuck around then don’t. I was just suggesting it might be nice to get to know somebody else. See where it goes.”

“I know,” you sighed, squeezing her hand. “Tonight’s just not a good night.”

Chaewon bobbed her head. “I understand. Take your time. You’ll know when you’re ready.”

You gave her a weak smile.

Meanwhile, Haechan was doing something adjacent to the walk of shame as he approached his clique’s table, empty-handed.

Jeno immediately taunted, “What a snag, man.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jeno,” Haechan hissed, throwing Jeno his middle finger. 

Mark gave Haechan a compassionate look. “You get an ‘E’ for effort, dude.”

“L for loss,” Jeno murmured under his breath none too quietly.

“She looked like she wanted to kill you with her bare hands,” Jaemin retorted, holding Winter’s hand under the table.

Winter snickered. “And how would you know what that looks like?”

“Because I see Ryujin look at Mark like that everyday,” Jaemin quipped, earning a couple laughs around the table. 

“Whatever,” Haechan said, feigning nonchalance. “You win some, you lose some.”

Jaemin braced his hand on Haechan’s shoulder. “This is just the trials and tribulations, buddy. You’ll get her next time.”

Haechan downed a shot of liquor. “We’ll see.”

When Tuesday morning arrived, you were up bright and early. You slipped on a minimalist outfit and got a taxi to the record store. 

Ryujin was working the cash register when you walked inside. You didn’t recognize her, but she recognized you, smirking in amusement. “Good morning. Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for a Michael Jackson vinyl,” you replied, holding your purse. 

“Vinyls are back that way,” Ryujin said, pointing her finger. “Good luck. He still sells fast.”

You thanked her and headed straight for the back shelves. Your record collection was a vinyl away from being finished after a number of years spent putting it together and you were desperately on the hunt for the finishing piece. Not a second later, Haechan meandered inside clad in denim jeans and black leather. He looked like nothing short of any parent’s worst nightmare. 

Ryujin beckoned him over and whispered, “Aren’t you the king of good timing? Your girl’s in the back.”

Haechan furrowed his brows. “My…” Then, he faced the back of the store and saw you carefully sifting through records, trying your absolute hardest to find the one you were looking for. From the looks of it, however, your efforts were in vain. 

Haechan glanced back at Ryujin in shock. “Shit. Should I shoot my shot?”

“I mean, the last time you shot your shot, you missed,” Ryujin replied, propping her pretty face up on the counter. “Like Michael Jordan against the Toronto Raptors in 2002 missed.”

“And he still won. So, watch it,” Haechan shot back. 

Ryujin rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But don’t make me get the buff Johnny guy from next door to escort you out of the building. The cute one that’s pretty tall.”

“Everyone knows who Johnny is, Ryu,” Haechan muttered, making his way towards you. Again. 

You didn’t even give Haechan the chance to speak when you noticed him. Your face scrunched up and you droned, “You again.”

Haechan lifted his hands. “You know, most people usually greet others with a ‘hey’ or a ‘good morning.’”

“Not in New York City.”

Haechan gave you a curious stare. “You’re from New York City?”

You grimaced. You didn’t mean to let that slip. “I’ve already said too much.”

“You’ve said just enough, girl,” Haechan replied with a smirk. “Whatchu looking for?”

“A Michael Jackson Thriller vinyl. It’s for my record collection,” you answered absentmindedly, ransacking the shelves for the record to no avail. Which was irritating. It’s like his most popular album, you grumbled to yourself.  

That certainly got Haechan’s attention. “Oh,” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I have a signed Thriller vinyl at my crib.”

You scoffed. “Please. As if.”

“I’m deadass,” Haechan insisted, but the untamed twinkle in his eyes made him hard to believe. 

“Right,” you droned. “And I’m guessing this is the part where you invite me back to your crib and try to persuade me to hook up with you.”

“Hey, I’m not that type of guy. Scout’s honor,” Haechan said, though sensing your raging skepticism, he called out, “Look. Hey, Ryu! Don’t I have a signed Michael Jackson vinyl?”

“It’s like you won’t let us forget,” Ryujin shouted back, annoyed. Then, she leaned over the counter, noticing the reluctance all over your face. “Yeah, he’s got one. It’s legit. I’d tell you if this punk was bullshitting.”

For whatever reason, Ryujin’s words of confirmation finally pushed you to believe him. You badgered, “How in the hell did you get your hands on a signed Michael Jackson vinyl? He couldn’t have given it to you. You were how old when he died?”

“Legends never die, baby,” was Haechan’s witty reply. 

You almost rolled your eyes, but settled for stubbornly folding your arms instead. “Okay. What do I have to do for it?”

“Go out on a date with me.”

That didn’t surprise you at all. Haechan had been trying to ask you out from the get-go. He was nothing if not persistent as ever. “A date,” you repeated with a smidge of boredom. 

Haechan bobbed his head. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date-date. My friends and I are having this get-together tomorrow night. You should come. Ryujin has been bitching about how there’s an uneven boy-to-girl ratio.”

You arched a brow. “And you want me to even things out?”

“Well, with you we’d have four boys to three girls, but if you find me worthwhile you can start bringing your friend and then we’ll be as even as a figure eight.”

You mulled it over. One date wouldn’t be so bad, you contemplated. It wasn’t as if you would be alone with this boy. There would be five other people in the room with you. Not to mention Haechan truly didn’t seem that bad. And if you were being honest, under better circumstances, you probably would’ve already taken him to bed. 

Besides, after spending most of your dating life with a cheating bastard, you definitely deserved to move on. Something fresh. If you decided that you didn’t like Haechan after this date, you could cut him off. Matter of fact, you could cut him off afterwards whether you liked him or not. Anything for the vinyl. 

Haechan watched your lip tuck out in thought and thought it was the cutest thing ever. He could tell you were really mulling it over. The gears in your brain were spinning quicker than ever before. 

“Fine,” you finally said after a while. “I’ll go on a date with you.”

In his head, Haechan was doing a very, very strange victory dance. But instead, he played it cool, and said, “Sweet.”

“Cool.”

Haechan pointed to the vinyls behind him with his thumb. “Can I play you something?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

Haechan did a smooth one-eighty and grabbed a Michael Jackson Bad vinyl before popping it into the record player beside you. You watched him skillfully set the needle, as if he had done it a thousand times before. A song you knew very well started to play. 

“I just can’t stop loving you,” you exhaled, noting the song name. You knew every word. 

Haechan nodded and smiled at you. Then, he stretched out his hand. “May I have a dance?”

You giggled and took his hand in yours, putting your other behind his shoulder as he wrapped his around your waist. You wanted to be mad that you liked how his hands felt on your body. Ironically, you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt the touch of a man. 

In little to no time, you were slow dancing in the back of a record store with a stranger. A very handsome stranger at that. You locked eyes and it was enough to make you hold your breath. 

Neither of you took your eyes off of each other afterwards. You were just swaying to the rhythm, breathing in the sweet, titillating scent of him. Sharing the warmth of your bodies as they touched. 

It was almost romantic. Then, a thought struck you. “I never got your name.”

“My friends call me Haechan,” he replied, flashing a smile. “But you can call me ‘baby.’”

“Haechan,” you said, tasting his name on your tongue. And ignoring his attempts at flirting.

Haechan’s face faltered for half a second, but he was quick to recover. “Because I like the way it rolls off your tongue, I’ll let it slide.”

You snickered. 

That sound was music to his ears. “So,” Haechan started. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” you chirped. “I’ll give you my number.”

“I hope you like motorcycles,” Haechan replied with a chuckle. 

“You drive a motorcycle?”

Haechan pointed to the entrance with his shoulder. “Parked right outside. She’s my baby.”

You stared over his shoulder and right through the glass window, spotting his motorcycle parked directly out front. It was a sleek, black motorbike that coupled perfectly with his mischievous attire. 

Oh, boy. 

For an entire hour, you carefully planned your date night outfit with Chaewon (who after loudly celebrating your secured date agreed to assist with the wardrobe assembling prep) over FaceTime. 

Not that it was a fancy date. Which was exactly why you were conflicted. You wanted to dress to impress, but you also didn’t want to seem like a try-hard. Like hell you were trying to impress Haechan, but you knew men like him perceived the slightest things as sexual advances.

You went for jeans and a crop top with a cute puffer jacket in the end, and called it a night. Just in case it got chilly, which was unpredictable in bitter Los Angeles evenings. Over the night and throughout your day, you caught yourself thinking about the handsome stranger that liked motorcycles. 

The slow dancing in the record store. The eye contact. The warmth of his body beside yours and his perfect scent throttling you. And you found yourself smiling. When Chaewon asked you how the dance was after you confided in her about the little event at the back of the record store, you’d replied, “It was magical.”

You were standing on the fence. Haechan was cute and could be an excellent distraction from your mess of a love life. But you weren’t exactly ready to risk getting your heart broken again. 

So, you decided you wouldn’t be getting your heart involved. Haechan was harmless fun.   

But you were still counting down the hours until he arrived at your front door. 

Haechan arrived punctually at your front door with two minutes left to spare. You grabbed your phone off the charger and dropped it in your purse before racing to open the front door. “Hi,” you said. 

Haechan waved. “‘Sup, baby.”

“You’re on time,” you commented, maybe slightly surprised.

Haechan chuckled at that. Seemingly not offended. “Yeah, I am.” He cocked his head.  “Should I have stood you up?”

A part of you somewhat expected him to and you would be lying if you said it hadn’t. Sue you for being cynical. After all, your last relationship had taught you to be a little more careful with your heart. Deciding you wouldn’t be answering that question, you gave him a quick scan and concluded that you liked what you saw. “You clean up nice.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m handsome?”

“It means you dress up well. Take the compliment before I retract it,” you replied, crossing your arms. 

“You already said it. No take-backs,” Haechan teased, grinning all smug-like. “You look pretty. But you’re always gorgeous.”

His flirting was going to be the death of you. “You’ve seen me three times and not once without makeup.”

“Take the compliment before I retract it,” Haechan mocked, giving an impersonation of however your voice sounded in his head. 

You gawked. “I do not sound like that!” 

Haechan snickered and grabbed your hand, shutting the door behind you with his other. “Listen, baby,” he started. “While I would love to get on your nerves, we’re going to be late.”

Realizing he was right, you dropped it. For now. “Okay,” you sighed. “Well, let’s go.”

Haechan led you outside to where his motorcycle was parked, making small talk with you along the way to fill the silence in the air. You didn’t talk about anything special - most of it turned into him being endearingly aggravating - but you noted that you liked his voice. 

When you got there, Haechan passed you a pretty pink helmet and told you, “I bought this for you. I hope you like pink. You gave me a pink girl vibe.”

“Because you’re just so good at knowing what vibes I give off,” you deadpanned, realizing this was the second time he had told you what vibes you gave him. And had been correct. 

Haechan didn't do shit but smirk. “Well?”

You sighed. “I love pink,” you admitted, attempting to put it on. 

Your confession made him grin even broader, but instead of teasing you, Haechan opted to help you put the helmet on correctly. “You a virgin?”

The use of that word made you shudder a little bit in surprise, but you quickly realized what he meant. 

Your faltering didn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, no matter how brief. “I meant a motorcycle virgin,” he added.

“I know,” you replied, chuckling. “And yup. Nobody has ever taken me for a spin on a daredevil before.”

“I’m glad to have taken your motorcycle virginity,” replied Haechan, stepping back after clasping your helmet. “Ready, babe?”

Your voice wavered, “Sort of.”

Haechan mounted his bike and gestured for you to mimic him. When you were straddling the seat, he gently steered your hands around his waist. “Don’t be scared. You’ll be fine as long as you hold onto me really, really tight.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And you liking me touching you has nothing to do with it?”

“Those are the pros.”

“And what else are the pros?”

“On a motorcycle, we get to dodge all the traffic,” Haechan replied with a grin, securing his own helmet. “Now, like I said, hold on tight.”

You did as told, tightly clasping your arms around his waist and holding on for dear life when you felt the motorcycle jerk alive underneath your shared weight. 

And it was exhilarating, flying past the city lights at the speed of light itself and watching splashes of color bleed into each other. You could feel the wind on your face and whip through your hair. You found yourself laughing as Haechan quite literally took you on the ride of your life. 

He weaved in and out of lanes adroitly, avoiding stationary cars with a technique only years of training could upskill. Which was reassuring. You weren’t sitting on the back of the bike of a total amateur. 

Hearing your noises of excitement made Haechan crack a broad smile. She likes it, he thought smugly. It was a step up from the night he met you and he would gladly take any tiny accomplishment. He couldn’t wait to see the look on the boys faces when he popped up with you in tow. No one believed him when he said he’d scored a date with you. 

Well, of course Ryujin did, because she saw the whole thing go down. But she wouldn’t support him nor deny that he had snagged you. So it would be a huge surprise. 

With some minutes of driving out of the way, you and Haechan finally dismounted his bike, arriving just shy of Jaemin’s house. You both caught your breath for a second, leaving your helmets behind. When you knocked on the door, a man you obviously had never seen before answered, a cup in hand. He saw you and his features instantly twisted with surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath. 

“I told you so,” were the first words to leave Haechan’s mouth. 

Jeno stepped aside, making room for you. And ignoring his friend. “Come on in, beautiful. The party’s just getting started.”

You weren’t wooed by the pet name, which made Haechan snicker as he walked inside the party, arm locked with yours. 

The look of surprise on everyone’s faces did not go unnoticed by you and you quickly turned to Haechan, asking, “Did you not tell your friends I was coming?”

“Oh, he wouldn’t shut up about it. We just didn’t believe him,” Jaemin answered for your date, shock promptly fading into amusement. He held out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Jaemin. The host of this shitshow.”

You kindly shook hands with him and told him your name. “Nice to meet you.”

Haechan took over from there and pointed to his friends in the order that they appeared on the couch as he introduced, “Winter, Ryujin, Mark. And I guess the fuckward that opened the door for you is Jeno.”

Jeno lifted his middle finger. “Oh, fuck you, Haechan.”

“Love you too, man,” Haechan replied smugly, ushering you to the couch. 

In little to no time, you were socializing with Haechan’s clique as if you’d been good friends for ages. None of them made you feel like an imposter, which you appreciated. Jaemin and his girlfriend Winter, who was sitting squarely on his lap, encouraged you to get comfortable. You felt right at home, laughing at their shenanigans. Many of which were Haechan’s, who was quite the shit-stirrer and troublemaker. You weren’t at all surprised. He screamed chaos. 

His friends had a noteworthy amount of individuality and magnetism too. Jeno was everything you thought Haechan would be, but hilarious. Maybe even charming depending on who you asked. He liked taking turns hurling insults with Haechan. They were like brothers. 

Jaemin and Winter were absolutely smitten with each other and were insufferable when apart, but grossly cute together. She was glued to his lap most of the time, but added a unique sense of humor to the conversation in between kisses. 

Ryujin and Mark were mortal enemies and couldn’t go a half second without bickering and endless banter, but they were a killer Spades duo and gave you and Haechan a run for your money. Their similarities to an old married couple were reminiscent of your grandparents and you made a mental note to check on your grandmother later.

“Talking to yourself is not weird,” Mark whined some hours later. 

Ryujin shot, “Maybe on whatever planet you come from.”

The pack (and you admittedly) let out a laugh at poor Mark’s expense. 

Jaemin set down his drink and took a hit from the joint you had all started to pass around not too long ago. Everybody was at least a little buzzed by now except for Haechan, which surprised you. You didn’t expect him to be responsible. “Okay, okay. Chill. Every man deserves to give himself a good pep talk in the mirror.”

“Okay, so are we talking pep talks or having full-blown conversations with yourself?” asked Jeno. 

Winter turned to Jaemin and asked, “You give yourself pep talks?”

Jaemin bobbed his head. “Sometimes,” he said. “Like when I asked you out. I gave myself a long speech of encouragement.”

Ryujin furrowed her brows. “Didn’t she say ‘no’ the first time you asked her out?”

Everybody laughed. 

Haechan turned to you and explained, “Jaemin asked Winter out in our freshman year of college in the courtyard. He pulled out all the stops - flowers, chocolates, the whole nine. She rejected him and the whole campus talked about it for weeks.”

“I thought he was so weird!” Winter exclaimed. 

“She thought Jaemin was weird. Jaemin talked to himself. I’m connecting the dots,” quipped Ryujin, passing the joint.  

Mark hissed, “You didn’t connect shit.”

“I’m connecting them.”

Jeno pointed to you with his drink. “What about you? Do you talk to yourself?”

“Sometimes,” you admitted. 

Mark leapt up and exclaimed, “Yes!”

“But only when I’m self-deprecating.”

“Oh,” Mark replied darkly. Ryujin had to tug him back down. 

Haechan grabbed your hand and said sweetly, “Never talk to yourself.”

You rolled your eyes. He was such a flirt. Maybe you were starting to like it. 

Some more colorful banter later, Haechan decided to connect his phone to Jaemin’s bluetooth speaker and everybody got up to bust a move to his wonderful music selection. He volunteered his hand and you took it gladly, in a world of your own as you each danced. 

Haechan quickly became talented at making you laugh. He shimmied his hips in a very, very unattractive way and you almost snorted. “You know,” Haechan started a couple minutes later, your bodies much closer. “I can’t shake the feeling that you’re really familiar. Like I’ve seen you before.”

You shrugged. “Maybe. I do modeling.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm,” you hummed. Your faces were dangerously close. One wrong move and your lips would be touching. “Mainly in New York, but I’ve decided to come here for a fresh start.”

Surprise was Haechan’s initial reaction, but he quickly responded, “That checks out. You are breathtaking, after all.”

You groaned. “It’s like you have some compulsion to flirt with me.”

“I do,” Haechan replied with a grin. “I’ll keel over and die if I don’t flirt with you.”

That checks out, you were tempted to mock, but instead you mimicked monotonously, “Must flirt. Will self-destruct if I don’t flirt.”

Haechan laughed loudly and you smiled at the sound of him. As the night carried on, you were finding less and less to dislike about him. He also only got even handsomer at this range. You could see every little detail on his pretty boy face. 

Needless to say, Haechan was also hyper aware of the lack of distance between your faces and bodies. His eyes kept flitting to your plump lips and all he could think about was how kissable they were. “I think it’s really interesting that you’re a model,” he began. 

You casted him a glance. “Why?”

“Because I’m a photographer.”

“Really?” you asked, somewhat shocked. 

Haechan bobbed his head. “Mm-hm. My whole life kinda. It’s my passion.”

“Interesting,” you replied, though it wasn’t a lie. You were thinking over his admission. He was splurging your assumptions of him, dime by fucking dime. Haechan screamed spoiled rich kid at first glance and you’d doubted that he even had a job. 

“Tell me something else about you,” Haechan said, locking eyes with you and doing his best to keep them there. You tested the limits of his self-control and he didn’t know whether he liked it or not. 

“Like what?”

Haechan shrugged. “Anything.”

You thought long and hard about it. His weighty stare didn’t help in the slightest. After a minute you confessed, “I like cheesy movies.”

His eyes flickered with surprise. “Seriously?”

You smiled coyly and replied, “Yes. It’s a character flaw, I know.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “The model with an attitude that collects vinyls as a hobby likes cheesy movies. You amaze me, you know.”

You gasped. “I do not have an attitude!”

“You have lots of attitude, baby. Snark for days. And I love every minute of it,” flirted Haechan for the umpteenth time this night alone. 

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but you kept them on his face, realizing again how good-looking he was. His lips were calling your name and you wondered if they were as soft as they looked. “Relax,” you said, feeling your hold on the reins slacken. You didn’t like it not one bit. “I’m only going out with you because I want that Michael vinyl.”

Haechan seemingly didn’t take offense to that and replied, “I know, but I thought that maybe if we went out on a date you would realize there’s actually a lot to like about me.”

You had already reached that conclusion on your own, feeling yourself become attracted to Haechan the longer you spent time with him, but your heart had intricate security and you were in no way inclined to let your guard down. 

“Like what?”

Haechan didn’t waste a second on hesitation. “We have similar music tastes. We both like cheesy movies. I’m a photographer. You’re a model. I mean, come on. We go together like pancakes and syrup, baby.”

Him likening you both to pancakes and syrup made you snort. “Is that the best analogy you could come up with?” you asked. 

“Cut me some slack,” Haechan groaned. “The last time I ate was ten this morning. I’m starving.”

You laughed. 

He squeezed your hand affectionately and said, “Speaking of which, there’s a diner down the block that serves really good pancakes. I can vouch. Wanna go grab some?”

You pretended to mull it over and eventually replied, “I would like that.”

Haechan sported a victorious grin before disclosing to his clique that the two of you would be seeing yourselves out. Ryujin bid you goodnight and Winter pouted, asking when she would see you again. You and your date barely managed to escape the party, slipping outside into the cold after a solid five minutes. 

The sky looked a little darker now, the city a little brighter. Time really did fly by when you were having fun. Among other things. “C’mon,” Haechan said, grabbing your hand. And you both held hands as he walked you to his parked bike. 

The diner was bare, given the early hour as the clock transcended past midnight, but the food was delightful as promised. Only a pair of employees were working their shifts, but you and Haechan tried to keep it down as you talked over an early breakfast in the booth. 

Which failed tremendously. Haechan was just so hilarious. Your laughter rang out through the breakfast joint in spite of how much you constantly reminded yourself to be quiet. You weren’t even paying attention to the pair of co-workers increasingly losing the will to live. You and Haechan talked about everything under the sun. The city and its shallow. Work and speeding vehicles. The best spots in the entire city. Your heart sped like how it did when you were speeding on his bike. 

“Your friends are cool,” you told him after a while. 

“But I’m cooler, right?” Haechan asked jokingly, earning a roll of your eyes. 

You picked up your coffee and droned, “Very.”

Haechan laughed playfully but sobered a little to confess, “I’m glad I met them. It’s kill or be killed in this city. It’s hard to find people that don’t share the same three superficial personalities.”

“Oh?”

He bobbed his head. “Yeah. It’s brutal.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Shit, where do I even start?” Haechan said, chuckling a little, but soon finding the answer to his question. “Jaemin is a complete geek. Don’t be fooled by his looks. There’s a reason Winter turned him down the first time, but he’s a chill dude that doesn’t bother anybody. He’s studying to be an engineer.”

That surprised you and tempted you to laugh. “Really?”

“Yup. Ironically, he’s probably the most regular person out of all of us. He doesn’t like to draw attention to himself,” Haechan ranted, pausing to sip from his drink. “Winter is the complete opposite. She’s a model, like you. Been in Vogue. When she’s not feeling up Jaemin, she loves to tend to her garden.”

So that explained the abundance of flowers in their front yard. It was vibrant plant galore. They looked nurtured, obviously a lot of love was being put into taking care of them and keeping them healthy. 

Haechan continued, “Ryujin is a unique blend of art kid and debate club survivor. She works part-time at the record store obviously, but she has big hopes for her paintings. She’s really talented.”

You were genuinely intrigued. “Wow. I would love to see her art.”

“That painting in Jaemin and Winter’s living room is hers. It was a housewarming gift when they moved in together,” Haechan told you like he was giving you the inside scoop. “Mark is a single pringle with way too much time on his hands, but he makes great music. He wants to be a famous rapper.”

“Mark and Ryujin aren’t boning?”

Haechan snickered loudly, shaking his head. “Nope. They’re like brother and sister. Ryujin has a boyfriend, but they’re dating long distance. He lives in Chicago or something like that.”

You made a face. “Commitment. That’s impressive. I respect it.”

“Yeah, same. I couldn’t handle it. I need too much stimulation for that shit,” Haechan said. 

“Hypothetically, you wouldn’t be willing to make it work for me?”

Haechan thought over his answer, chewing over his words. “I would at least try,” he told you admittedly. “But I can’t say for sure I could make it work.”

You admired his bluntness. His ability to be straightforward was something you genuinely respected. You knew he wanted to impress you, but on top of all that and his acute need for humor, Haechan was incredibly honest. Unlike somebody you knew. 

Curiously, you cocked your head, realizing you were missing somebody. “What about Jeno?” you asked. 

“What about him?”

You cocked a brow. “You were telling me about your friends?”

Haechan made a face of remembrance. “Oh, right. Jeno is single, but Giacomo Casanova reincarnated. He could have been written by Shakespeare. Another aspiring model.”

Why aren’t you a model? You took one good goddamn look at Haechan and not very subtly licked your lips until they were dry. He was so breathtaking. You couldn’t believe he was the man behind the camera. “You’re kinda handsome, you know,” you admitted. 

Haechan snickered. He hadn’t expected those words to come out of your mouth, but with how you were unabashedly checking him out, it was no secret you found him attractive. “Is that what you gathered from what I said?”

“No. I gathered that you’re fine enough to be a model and yet you are not. I think you even have the charisma,” you told him blatantly. “Why stand behind the camera?”

Haechan shrugged. Feigning nonchalance. “That’s just who I am,” he said. 

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” he replied with zero hesitation. 

You shot him a smile. “Then, I guess that’s all that matters.”

Haechan nodded in agreement. He wouldn’t trade his job for the world. He liked being able to do his favorite hobby for a living. Not everybody had that luxury. You were the same way, but damn it you couldn’t take it off your mind how Haechan looked straight out of a magazine. You had seen hundreds of handsome men in your lifetime, far and up close, but he took the cake.

It was hard to believe Haechan was anything but a casanova himself, considering your first impression of him was that he was a player trying to get into your pants. Which was fair because he was, and he couldn’t deny that. But in spite of his good looks, magnetic personality and charisma, Haechan had some admirable personality traits. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, accusing, and asked, “What do you think about debauchery?”

There you went with the random statements and questions again. Haechan snorted, leaned back in his seat, and replied silkily, “I am quite the debaucher.” 

“You mean debauchee,” you corrected. 

Haechan groaned, “Who gives a fuck? I love pussy.”

You snorted back a laugh. Again, honesty. Noted. 

Haechan finished what was left of his pancakes in one final bite and chewed without any particular rush. “Listen, if you’re asking me this because you think I’m a player, you’ve got the wrong guy,” he said eventually.

Your mind was racing. You were plagued by doubts. “Do I?”

“You do.” Haechan dropped his fork, reaching for a napkin. Then, he added, “I fuck. I fool around. I’m not gonna lie and act like I’m a fucking prude. But when I’m tied down, I get tunnel vision.”

“Something tells me you’re not tied down often,” you remarked, never taking your eyes off of him. 

Haechan met your stare and shot back, “Something tells me you don’t like being tied down.”

He caught you there. You wanted to be upset, but you couldn’t. Not when he was so right about you already. “I don’t mind being in a relationship but… I don’t like it when men act as if a woman being in a relationship should deprive her of her individuality. I want to be independent.”

“Then, we’re the same in that regard,” he replied, grinning at you. “I would never try to control you or anything like that. You’re a grown ass woman and I’m a grown ass man. I just hate feeling stagnant and I need constant stimulation. Hypothetically, could you handle that?”

You pretended to mull it over. “Yeah.” You nodded your head. “I could.”

Haechan grinned wildly. He was liking where this was going. And he definitely wanted to see you again. Little did he know, you felt the exact same way.

Haechan checked his watch and frowned. “It’s late. I should take you back home.”

You quipped, “What kind of grown ass man has a curfew?”

Haechan snickered and started to tidy up his things. 

You left the diner a couple minutes later, hopping back on Haechan’s sexy motorbike. He drove you through the city, besotted with how your arms felt wrapped so tightly around his waist as he sped through the night. 

When he dropped you off at your doorstep, fingers laced through yours the entire trip there, something bittersweet came over you. You didn’t want the night to be over. Haechan had won you over in just one night alone. 

“I guess this is goodbye,” you said when you’d reached your door. 

“Goodbye for now,” Haechan corrected you, smirking. He could hear the sadness in your tone you tried to veil. “By the way, I’m free tomorrow. You can swing by my place to pick up the vinyl. I’ll text you my address.”

Confusion twisted your features for the briefest second before you remembered the reason you’d even agreed to go out on a date with him in the first place. You had forgotten all about your record collection. “Sounds great,” you chirped, reluctantly taking your keys from your purse. You were glad you would finally get your hands on the vinyl, though still crestfallen that he had to leave. 

Haechan didn’t want to leave until he was certain you were safely inside your condo and he heard the door lock, but you surprised him when you unlocked your door and turned around to say, “I had a really great time tonight.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m glad.”

You pointed inside your place with your thumb. “Do you… wanna come inside?”

It was no secret what that meant. You wanted to fool around with him, there was no doubt. “I shouldn’t,” Haechan said. 

Not that he didn’t want to. But it was the first date and he didn’t want to seem like he was only after one thing.

The disappointment on your face was noticeable, but you forced a smile. “Right. You probably shouldn’t.”

Something told Haechan to bid you goodnight and leave it at that, but then he thought, Who the fuck am I kidding? And with all his self-restraint parked squarely beside his bike, he smashed his lips against yours. 

Your first instinct was to be surprised, but then you kissed him back just as hard. Fuck, you had been resisting the urge the whole evening. It was so satisfying to finally know what his lips felt like pressed to yours like a mold. You lost your mind a little at how romantic his kisses were. They were hard, but slow. You met him halfway, feeling something shift in your body as the kiss steadily grew more and more heated. And you couldn’t fight the heat that wafted over you as his hands kneaded your hips. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s a great kisser, you screamed internally. It drove you mad. It made you crazy with burning ache. 

Naturally, Haechan ultimately ended up slipping past your doorway, locking it shut behind him and kissing you through the hallways. “Bedroom?” he asked between kisses. 

You pointed, although you were losing your sense of direction as you became drunk with the taste of him. You panted, “Over there.”

Each of you were both half-naked by the time you charged through your bedroom door. You were reduced to your underwear, your clothes scattered across the hallway in your wake. Haechan pulled you towards your bed, collapsing over you as your lips synced messily. 

His warmth made you moan, little noises escaping you at the meeting of your bodies, skin to skin. Then, his lips attached to your throat, sinking lower and lower until you could feel his breath at your abdomen. “Can I taste this wet fucking pussy?” Haechan growled while flitting his gaze to your eyes. 

One look at him between your thighs and you were tightening around nothing. There was no reason that should have been as attractive as it was. Please, your body begged. “Are you any good?” you asked. 

Haechan cocked a brow at you and chuckled, reaching for some pillows to hand over to you. “Get comfortable,” were his only words. 

You tucked the pillows he passed you underneath your elbows obediently and lifted your hips. Haechan started to slip your panties off, pulling them right down your ankles before they were tossed into oblivion. All it took was a single glance at your bare cunt for Haechan to dive between your legs. He gripped your thighs, spreading them apart and holding them in place. Your thighs were plush and it was no doubt he liked the way they fit in his palms. 

Haechan spent a moment wandering, just getting a feel for what made you tick. Not a bunch of time was wasted idly and he caught on quickly, reducing you to moans and squirming quicker than anybody before him. It was infuriating. His hold on your thighs tightened, keeping you rooted and still. You bit your lip, trying to smother the sound of your soft sounds in an endeavor to wipe the smug look off his wet lips, but to no avail.

Haechan was eating you out like he just couldn’t get enough of you. Which wasn’t far from the truth at all. Your moans were pornographic and made him crazy with a burning, all-consuming flavor of lust. You covered your mouth flat with your palm, tense when he sucked your clit, moaning, “Fuck,” into your own hand. 

You were already unbelievably sensitive. Maybe because it had been a while since you’d had sex. I’m so busy, you thought. Work had taken priority in your life. In between being pursued by Haechan, you were also becoming high-demand in shoots. None of that changed the fact you’d been maybe subconsciously hoping that this would happen though. You even shaved in the shower just before throwing on your clothes. 

Your whole body was unstill. You clenched your hands into fists, over and over again, before finally letting yourself run your fingers through his dark hair. His lips felt so good, tracing the skin around your thigh. He was disarming you. Slowly but surely. Or maybe not that slowly at all. 

“Haechan, shit. Fuck,” you cursed, your tongue tied in knots. Nothing could articulate how he was making you feel, how the walls of ice around you were collapsing in on themselves.

Haechan merely groaned against your cunt with a mouthful of pussy and the noise was powerful enough to kill you. You were already seeing god. 

Your back arched off the mattress, your hips driving into his face. You couldn’t get enough either. He was making you greedy and you didn’t even understand what for. All you knew was that you wanted him and the attraction was so fervent it was undeniable now. The boy between your thighs had a mutual thought. The room was a hundred degrees hotter than it had been before, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t feel the heat from the outside, too engrossed with how besotted and hot for you he was internally.

He was going to get you to climax even if it was the last thing he did, not that you were far from finishing. And when you thought things couldn’t possibly get any better, he stuffed a pair of fingers inside your pussy. 

The bedroom was too hot to breathe in. You kept panting, kept crying out Haechan’s name, pulling at his locks of hair as you pleased. And he let you. Your body was so indecisive, arching into him but flexing away involuntarily, as if it couldn’t decide what it wanted. 

“Don’t stop. Please,” you cried out. 

Your body only knew him right now, on the verge of going numb because of how sensitive and swollen your clit was. Haechan did the opposite of slow down. He was undeterred and absolutely nothing would stop him from bringing you to climax while he went down on you like a madman. You could feel the heat gathering in your thigh, like it would consume you at any given moment. 

It was practically over for you when he continued to finger your sweet spot, dragging his fingers in and out of your perfect cunt. You were a whirlwind of excitement, less and less able to keep still the longer he sucked and fucked, and touched on you. You could feel sweat on your back and chest. “I’m gonna cum,” you warned. 

“Cum,” Haechan told you, voice a little deeper. “I want you to cum, baby.”

The pressure was building. And it kept coming. There were no peaks, no limits. Like steady rainfall in the forest. 

You cried out his name one last time before your orgasm got the best of you, making you shudder and shake, and tangle your fingers deeper into his head of hair. The whole world stopped for a second. But Haechan kept tasting you through your climax, not stopping until it was over. You arched off the bed, too many sensations hitting you at once. 

When the last of your high faded your back hit the mattress with a thud. You were completely out of breath, a couple of tears forming a shroud in your eyes while they gathered at your lashes. You were finally broken. 

But with your permission, Haechan went down on you one final time after that. For safe measure. Haechan finally pulled back once you’d cum for a second time, meeting your stare, but the eye contact only lasted for a couple of seconds because you couldn’t take yours off of his slick lips. He licked your release nonchalantly and something primal took over you. You were feeling less and less like a woman. More like a beast.

Haechan, grinning to himself as he took notice of how defeated you looked, cocked his brow at you expectantly. “So?” 

Ah. You had asked him if he was any good. “Mind numb,” you panted. “Can’t think.”

Haechan laughed. Feeling a little less lethargic than before, you clambered over to him, tugging at his boxers. You could see the print of his hard dick against it. 

“Someone’s impatient,” Haechan teased. 

“Someone’s not moving fast enough,” you shot back, pulling them down for him to step out of. You gawked, licking your lips at the sight. Fuck, he was huge. You should’ve known. 

You glanced up at him with a little glimmer in your eyes, asking, “Can I suck you off?” 

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you replied, your lips dry from how much your tongue passed over them. He was just so fucking mouth-watering. You wanted a taste badly. 

There was no way Haechan could tell you no when you looked at him with that sexy gleam in your eyes. Plus he wasn’t at all against feeling your mouth on his dick. “Alright,” he said, playing nonchalant. 

Haechan moved to sit on your bed and you crept between his thighs, sitting on your knees. You spat in your hand and grabbed his dick, only pumping him in your fist for the meanwhile. 

Then, you slowly transitioned into swirling your tongue around his dick, though not yet drawing him inside your mouth. You were toying with him, trying to see how much he could take, and Haechan realized very quickly that you were pushing his buttons. Which was strange. That was his thing. But he kinda liked it. 

A high-pitched moan left him when you finally - fucking finally - started to take him past your lips, hollowing your cheeks, and he fisted your hair behind you. Giving you a full scan, Haechan realized how sexy you looked sucking him off, kneeled between his legs with that sexy ass stare in your eyes gazing up at him. You must have known it was his kryptonite. 

And you did. Meeting his stare, you could read him just by looking at his handsome face. It was your time to be a smug little bitch. You wanted to break him, just like he had broken you. “Fuck, baby. Like that,” Haechan grunted, throwing his head back. Which meant you must have been doing something right.

You were feeling benevolent and took him deeper inside your mouth while wrapping your fist around whatever was still available. There were many sensations on his dick and it was doing something inexplicably unhinged to his brain. 

One look at his face made you feel extremely accomplished. His features were tensed and his lips were parted. I’ll suck the soul outta that dick any day to see that face, you thought very amusedly to yourself, resisting a chuckle. 

You pried yourself away for a while, still looking into his eyes, and taunted, “Too much for you, baby boy?”

“Never,” Haechan retorted, voice airy and light. Like he was on some fucking cloud. 

You lifted a brow, amused, though in that case, decided it was time to up the stakes. You sucked him a little faster, taking him a little further until he hit the back of your throat. Very eager and deliberate. 

Haechan was losing whatever was left of his goddamn mind. His thighs trembled, cock twitching inside your mouth. You were doing unspeakable things to him right now and he was absolutely obsessed. Your tongue touched the base of his dick and your free hand squeezed his bare thigh. God-fucking-damn, was all Haechan could think. Literally. His mind was numb, thanks to you. In a matter of minutes, his legs would probably be as well.  

A couple of tears gathered in your eyes, but you willed yourself to power through. You couldn’t be finished until he was finished. You were way too resolved to make him unravel. At the sensation of your warm mouth, Haechan whimpered, “Fuck,” grabbing and using your hair. 

His sounds were just so fucking hot. You wanted to record them so that you could put them on loop. Arousal seeped between your thighs, but you ignored it, just for his sake. 

Some time had passed since your last blowjob. It was good to know that your mouth was still spectacular, if his sensitive movements and high-pitched moans were any indicator. You squeezed your thighs together. There was throbbing between your legs. Mutual chaos. Mutual destruction. The two of you were a very, very unlikely duo.

Haechan was warm to the touch everywhere you touched him, blood circulating through him swiftly like a Shanghai maglev. You traced your fingers up and down his thighs, giving them a little pinch, and were surprised to find he was incredibly pliant. You little freak, you thought teasingly. You jotted down a mental note to playfully scold him later, too concentrated on stringing him to climax. 

The male before you looked a total of seconds away from malfunctioning altogether. You were making short work of him like no other girl and it was giving him much to think about.

Your nails found purchase in his thigh, dragging your nails down the flesh and leaving little red lines, just before you brought one of your hands to his cock again. You’d been pulling out all the stops to chase him closer to the finish. Every other thought on your mind vanished as you fixed all of your attention on making him cum. Haechan had the same thought, involuntarily bucking his hips as he tried to fuck your mouth.

You let him control the pace, let him do whatever he needed to finish. You moaned around his shaft again, sending vibrations that shook him. A little longer and he wouldn’t last. 

“I’m coming. Shit, babe. Keep going…,” he mumbled, winding his fingers through your scalp again. His pace was erratic. It was all you could do not to choke, giving him permission to use you to get himself off. And it was too fucking hot. You were in disbelief. 

Haechan tried to be careful, not wanting to trouble you, but you knew what you were doing and he couldn’t exactly control his impulses. His impulses controlled him. You sucked and swallowed, all good and pliant. 

Seconds later, Haechan was orgasming, painting the back of your throat with cum. His thighs shook and you could physically feel his dick twitch inside your mouth as he released. He moaned your name loud enough to wake the neighbors. 

You took as much of his load as you could fit inside your mouth, but as it turned out, Haechan came a lot. Some dripped from your chin and you wiped it with the back of your hand. When he let go of your hair, you pulled back, just watching your handiwork smugly. You mocked, “So?”

Haechan blinked, like it would clear the invisible haze. He was barely handling the stimulation. You were undoubtedly one of the best he’d ever had and he was officially sprung with you. “High fucking hell,” he groaned. 

You giggled. That was answer enough. 

For an uncertain amount of hours (nobody was counting), you and Haechan took turns finishing each other, even sixty-nining once or twice till you needed a break. 

“Okay, timeout. I can’t feel my dick,” Haechan sighed after a while, surprising himself. Usually, he wore other people out. Not the other way around, but the two of you were in a competition to see who could exhaust the other first. Haechan realized then and there that you were matching his energy and it shocked the hell out of him, because that was a first. He was even more interested in you now. 

You chortled and collapsed on the bed. You were also having some revelations, but you kept them to yourself. He hasn’t even asked to put his dick in me, you realized after a moment. He was definitely a pussy fiend, but he hadn’t even fucked you and it’d been ages. 

That was a first. 

You held your chin in your face while staring at him. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

Haechan looked high as hell and he hadn’t done a single drug in your presence. “Not as we speak,” he replied quietly. “Other than playing pool with Jaemin later and giving you that vinyl, I don’t exactly have plans.”

“You should still rest,” you told him assertively. “Do you wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

You smiled, resisting a squeal to contain your excitement. You patted the spot beside you, gesturing for him to come over. Which he did. “Goodnight,” you whispered.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” Haechan said, blowing a kiss your way.

You rolled your eyes, but quickly devolved into giggles and tangled yourself in his arms. 

Sleep came easy for you that night and had you not forgotten to turn off your alarm, you would have slept past noon. You could feel the sunlight on your face and flipped over, desperate to escape its brightness. 

That was when the memories of last night slammed into you like an eighteen-wheeler. Haechan’s fingers tangled in your hair and his mouth between your legs. Sleep had sobered you, the inebriety of lust distant, save for the ache that lingered in your thigh. Your heart fluttered for a second, but it was gone the second you noticed the man you’d spent all night with had disappeared, his arms no longer thrown around your waist. 

You started to worry then. There was no note on your nightstand. You immediately grabbed your phone from your bedside table, hopeful of finding some sort of message, but Haechan didn’t even have the courtesy to leave a text or voicemail. Bitterness seeped into your chest as you assumed the worst. He’s had his fun and now he’s done, you thought disdainfully. Why you expected him to be any different was beyond you. 

You threw on your robe and slipped on your slippers before stomping downstairs, full of attitude in large quantities. Maybe it was for the better that you didn’t exactly let him hit. But you still felt stupid, because you would have. If he would have asked. 

But he didn’t. 

Thoughts of hunger broke your reverie when you smelled eggs from the kitchen, which was strange, because you were certain that nobody was there. You grabbed a vase off a nearby table and approached the kitchen with slow, cautious strides. 

A part of you hoped it was only Haechan, but surely enough, you were taken aback when you got an amazing view of his back while he faced your stove. 

Haechan is here - and he’s cooking? 

You shook your head. This man was full of surprises. 

Haechan was none the wiser, humming to himself, and didn’t even realize you were present until he turned around to grab something from the island. “Good morning,” he said sweetly. He pointed to the vase in your hands. “Thought I was a killer?”

“You scared the shit out of me,” you sighed, walking over to the island and sitting the vase down. 

Haechan grinned. “Why - you didn’t think I was gonna still be here?”

You didn’t have to answer that question. And you wouldn’t be. You didn’t like that he saw through you so clearly, it made you feel transparent. Changing the topic, you asked, “What you cooking?”

“Omelets,” he replied nonchalantly, fixed to the stove again. “I know we technically had breakfast not too long ago, but I saw how much you liked omelets.”

Something fluttered in your chest. It was sweet, dare you say. 

“That’s really thoughtful of you,” you whispered, getting comfortable at the island. 

“I’m a thoughtful guy.”

“That you are.”

Comfortable silence enveloped you in its wholeness. For the first time since you met him, if it was worth noting. Neither of you liked the quiet very much - silence gave too much room for thinking - but you didn’t mind it right now.

Haechan slipped a steaming omelet from the pan to your plate masterfully, handing you a knife and fork. You opened your mouth to thank him, but he beat you, finally starting, “Speaking of thinking, I been, well, thinking. And I need you to not go ghost on me after this.”

Your eyes flickered, but you glanced at your plate to hide your surprise, cutting off a morsel. “Why would I do that?” you asked. 

Haechan shrugged his shoulders, but ranted, “I just hate when you think shit tight with a girl, and then after you hook up, they don’t wanna keep in touch anymore.”

“Huh,” you mumbled. “Funny. I feel the same way.”

Haechan took the seat beside you. His eyes met yours, something sober in them. “I say all of this to say that I like where this is going and I want to see you again. But if you’re not on the same page, let me know right now.”

“I’m on the same page.”

He pressed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Haechan,” you replied, setting down your knife. “If I didn’t want to keep seeing you after this, I would tell you in no uncertain terms. I’m having fun.”

Haechan nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeated. “This is really, really good, by the way. Where’d you learn to cook?”

The boyish smile was back on Haechan’s handsome face. “Everything I know I owe to my parents,” he said. “This particularly to my mother.”

You taunted, “Ah. You a Momma’s boy?”

Haechan chuckled. “Something like that, yeah.”

Almost endearing. You got a mental picture of a tiny Haechan peaking around the corner, watching his mother cook, and it brought a smile to your lips. 

Both of you talked over breakfast. You got orange juice out of the fridge for you to drink and spent what was left of the morning chattering incessantly. You finally accepted that you liked Haechan. Maybe unconsciously, you’d been fighting it because of your ex. 

As of now, you were playing tug-of-war with your heart. On the one hand, there was a part of you that lingered over him and it still felt forbidden to be interested in other men. But one swift reminder that he was interested in other girls while apparently being interested in you, and all the feelings you had for him dissolved into resentment. 

Plus you weren’t exactly ready for another relationship, nor did you completely trust Haechan yet, but on the other hand, he made you forget all about the bastard that hurt you. And how it felt to be hurt. 

Needless to say, you would be seeing him again. Haechan made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

You were sad when he had to leave, picking up his clothes that were scattered across your entire condo and redressing himself, but gladly kissed him goodbye. On the cheek. For various reasons.

Besides, you would be seeing him later on that day anyways. You both had things to take care of. 

Chaewon was sporting the biggest smile you’d ever seen when you climbed into the back of the taxi with her. You expected a stern reprimanding, given that you hadn’t returned any of her calls or texts since last night, but somehow this was worse.

“Don’t even,” was the first thing you said when you entered the backseat. 

Chaewon grinned mischievously, singing, “You’re glowing.”

“Yes. There’s this cool thing called a skin care routine. You may have heard of it,” you deadpanned. 

Chaewon wriggled her eyebrows. “Does this skin care routine consist of Lee Haechan’s semen?”

You grimaced. “Gross.”

“You guys totally boned, didn’t you?” she asked. Though it was less of a question and more of a declaration. You hoped the driver was tuning both of you out.

“Jesus, Chae. Good morning to you, too,” you replied boredly. 

“Good morning, bestie. Now did you or did not you bone Haechan?”

You just rolled your eyes. She was relentless. “Okay, fine,” you started, sighing out a little. “We hooked up.”

“I fucking knew it,” Chaewon exclaimed. 

You added sharply, “But we didn’t have sex. It was strictly head.”

Chaewon gave you a look. “Girl, seriously? How was it?”

You pretended to think about it. Memories of last night plagued you. You couldn’t get the image of Haechan strumming you to climax out of your head. You admitted quietly, “He made me see a star or two. Maybe a galaxy. Maybe another universe.”

Chaewon clasped her hands together and made a squealing noise of excitement. 

All you could do was shake your head. But you couldn’t deny that all of your doubts and hesitations about Haechan had been converted into an inexplicable will to see him again. You had an impulse to smile and faced the window so that she couldn’t see. 

“You’re smiling,” Chaewon teased, watching your reflection. 

“I’m not.”

Chaewon nudged you with her elbow. “Come on, girl. You deserve this. You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy. And I don’t need a man to be happy,” you quickly replied. 

Chaewon frowned. “You know that’s not what I meant. You’ve obviously been down in the dumps since you called off the engagement and I think it’s a good thing you’re letting yourself be a little more lax.”

You let out a disgruntled groan.

Chaewon slipped her fingers through yours and continued, “No one’s saying that you’ve gotta jump the broom. With how hard you’ve worked all these years, you deserve to play.”

“I know, and that’s all he is. We’re just playing around,” you assured her in spite of the fact that nobody questioned it in the first place. “We’re just kickin’ it.”

Chaewon squeezed your hand. 

Meanwhile, Haechan was across town with a friend of his own. 

“I’ve got a question for you, man,” Haechan started after a total of three minutes of silence. 

Jaemin slung his head back and whined, “Oh, brother.”

He had seen it coming from a mile away. Haechan treated silence like the black plague and when he wasn’t chatting his friends ears off for every second of every minute, he was thinking. Of course, Jaemin knew his friend well enough, so it was no doubt he had a question. 

Truth be told, Haechan hadn’t stopped thinking about you since he left your condo. The endless hours of chatter, you dancing in his arms, the sex. All of it was giving him a lot of shit to ponder. 

“It’s been weighing on my mind for a while,” he continued, choosing his words carefully. “Do you think you’re with the someone you’re meant to be with?”

“You mean like my soulmate?”

Haechan gave him a nod, although Jaemin was too busy resting the cue between his fingers. “Yeah, like your other half or some shit like that. The one you’ll live for and die with.”

Sparing his friend a couple seconds worth of a glance, Jaemin paused his endeavors and mulled the question over. “You know, not everybody wants to be in love. But everybody wants to be loved,” he began. “People who get in relationships solely to feel loved don’t know what love is.”

“What’s that gotta do with my question?”

Jaemin shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t trade the love Winter and I share with each other for the world, but what nobody tells you about love is that it has its fair share of ups and downs. There’s bad days and disagreements. Not everybody wants to deal with that.”

“That’s some profound shit, brother,” Haechan teased. 

“Whatever, man. I’m just saying that the idea that love has no bounds is false. I’d give my life for Winter and I wanna marry her someday, but we’ve both got boundaries because love is mutual respect.”

Haechan’s mind was adrift again. He was thinking.

Jaemin connected the dots, blocking the corner pocket with his hand. “Now wait just a second. Don’t tell me this is about that girl.”

Haechan groaned, “What are you doing, man? Can I get my shot?”

“No, no, no. This is about that girl you brought over last night, isn’t it?” Jaemin asked. 

Now, Haechan was officially caught. He heaved a breath, stood to his full height, and said, “You just don’t get it, man. We were talking for hours and she could actually keep up with my bullshit. Not only that, but she understood. Then, I get her in the sheets, and man.”

Jaemin snickered. “I’m guessing it was good?”

“Understatement of the year,” Haechan sighed loudly. “I mean, we didn’t even fuck. She volunteered to suck me off. She left me mind-blown, you hear me? Mind-blown. I can still feel my thighs shaking.”

Jaemin whistled. “Goddamn. So, you think she’s your soulmate?”

“Nah, man,” Haechan replied nonchalantly, setting his cue back on the table. “She’s impressive. That’s all. We’re just kickin’ it. You know I don’t do the whole love thing anymore.”

Jaemin could sniff bullshit from a mile away but shifted his hand. “Alright, man. But when those jones come down,” he started, blunt. “It’s a motherfucker.”

Haechan’s eyes flickered.

[mellowyellow236]

The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!

All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.

Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :) All are under the cut.

NRC:

Heartslabyul:  

Riddle Rosehearts - 

My dearest rose, 

You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 

Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 

Yours Truly, 

Riddle Rosehearts 

Trey Clover - 

Prefect, 

Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 

From, 

Trey. 

Cater Diamond - 

Prefect, 

Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 

Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 

- Cay-cay ♦️  

Ace Trapolla - 

Prefect!! 

I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 

Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 

See ya, 

Ace 

Deuce Spade - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how bad it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 

I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 

From, 

Duece 

Savanaclaw: 

Leona Kingscholar - 

Herbivore, 

Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 

I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 

- Leona 

Ruggie Bucchi - 

Hiya, Prefect... 

I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 

Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 

If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.

- Ruggie 

Jack Howl - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 

From, 

Jack 

Octavinelle: 

Azul Ashengrotto - 

My Pearl, 

Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 

With Love, 

Azul Ashengrotto 

Jade Leech - 

Dearest Prefect, 

It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 

Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.

Kind Regards, 

Jade Leech 

Floyd Leech - 

Shrimpy!!!!!! 

You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 

I’m going to squeeze you. 

🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 

🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 

I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 

- Floyd <3333333 

Scarabia: 

Kalim Al-Asim - 

Hello!!!!

I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 

Hugs and kisses, 

Kalim Al-Asim 

P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!

Jamil Viper - 

Dear Prefect,

Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 

See you later, 

Jamil Viper

Pomefiore: 

Vil Schoenheit - 

My Dearest Potato, 

I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 

I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 

I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 

Sincerely, 

Vil Schoenheit 

Rook Hunt - 

Trickster, 

Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 

Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 

Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 

Le Chasseur D'Armour 

Epel Felmeir - 

Prefect, 

I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 

Epel 

Ignihyde: 

Idia Shroud - 

Prefect, 

Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 

Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 

- Gloomurai 

Ortho Shroud - 

Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 

♡✧( •⌄• ) 

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 

��ω• 

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 

I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 

Sent To: PerfectPrefect@email.com 

Date: XX/XX/XXXX 

Return Email: orthoshroud2@email.com 

Diasomnia: 

Malleus Dracona - 

My Dearest Child Of Man, 

If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 

Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 

The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 

Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 

Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 

Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)

Beastie, 

Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 

But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 

xoxo, 

Lilia 

Silver “Vanrouge” - 

Dear Prefect, 

I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 

Best Wishes, 

Silver 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

HUMAN! 

I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 

Sincerely, 

Sebek Zigvolt  

RSA+NBC: 

Che’nya - 

Prefect... 

When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 

Kitty Kisses, 

Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 

Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)

My Dearest, 

Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 

Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 

Love, 

Neige Leblanche 

Rollo Flamme -

Mon Amour, 

There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 

I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 

I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 

Bonus: 

Checka Kingscholar - 

To Perfect, 

Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•

[imagines4thefandoms]

Family Reunion

word count: 6.5K

Summary: y/n reluctantly goes to a family reunion that may or may not be a disaster

TW: adoption hate, No y/n used

You were sitting in the living room reading a book when Alfred walked into the manor with the mail. He placed it on the table behind the couch and went into the kitchen to start dinner. Jason came running into the room and jumped on the couch next to you. 

“Hey, mom, whatcha doin’,” he asked, laying his head on your shoulder.

“Just reading,” you answered as you turned the page of your book. Jason snuggled closer to you and let out a sigh. You put your book down and looked over at your son. 

“What's the matter, J,” you asked, placing your book on the table behind you. 

Jason sat up straight and looked at you. He gave you a serious look, which made you worry a little. Jason was one of the least serious of your kids; well, they are all less serious than Damian. “Nothing, just bored,” he said, looking at you with a smile.

“Mom, did the mail come in yet?” Tim yelled, running up from the cave. 

“Yes, Alfred just brought it in,” you replied. 

Tim ran into the living room and searched through the mail. He was so excited that he dropped the rest of the mail on the floor. Your husband walked in and sat down on the couch between you and Jason. 

“Hey honey,” Bruce said, kissing your temple.

“Tim, make sure you pick up your mess,” you said, cuddling into Bruce.

It was moments like these, where Bruce and the boys stayed home that made all the drama of marrying Batman/ Bruce Wayne worth it. Just as Tim came and sat on the chair next to you, Dick and Damian walked in through the front door. Dick walked over to you and kissed your cheek while Damian stood in the living room with a grimace. 

“Grayson, just because I asked a question about your job didn’t mean I wanted to spend the day with you,” he exclaimed. 

Dick went to throw his keys on the table, but they landed on the floor. When we bent down to grab them, he noticed an envelope under the couch. 

“Hey, Mom, there’s mail for you,” he said, handing it over. 

Your name was handwritten on a baby blue envelope. Just from the writing, you knew what was in this piece of mail. Your mother was trying to get you to come to a family reunion, but we were not interested. You loved your family, but there were some people you just didn’t want to talk to anymore. “It's nothing.” You said, placing it on the table and opening your book back up to finish the chapter you were reading when Jason interrupted you. 

“Nothing, Mother, it looks important. It’s handwritten,” Damian said, opening it up. 

Before you could stop him, he started to read the invitation, which you had already gotten about seven times.  Bruce looked over at you and gave you a questioning look as your son finished reading the invitation. 

“Like I said, it's nothing,” you said, getting up from the couch and grabbing the invitation from Damian. 

“Family reunion. That sounds fun, Mom,” Jason said, grabbing the card from your hands. 

“Sure, but not when it’s my family that is reuniting,” you replied, grabbing the invite again. 

This time, before anyone can grab it from you again, you rip it up and throw it in the waste basket in the living room. You knew you probably should have burned it, but you had hope that your sons and husband knew to leave it alone.  You went to your office to do a couple of things for work when you got a call from your mother. 

Hey Sweetie

“Hey, mom. What’s up.”

 Nothing, I just wanted to talk to my daughter.

“I’m not going mom.”

We miss you

“I miss you too, Mom. You know you and Dad are welcome to come visit whenever you want. The kids miss you.”

Sweetheart, please

“Is she going to be there?”

Yes. She’s a part of this family.

“Then just let me know when you and Dad want to come visit.”

It’s not just me who misses you. It's in two weeks you still have time to change your mind.

“Ugh, Mom, if I say I'll think about it, will you stop sending the invitations?”

Yes, only if you consider it

“Ok, Mom, I will consider going to the reunion.”

Great, well, I’m going to let you go and let you get back to work Tell my grand-babies I love them and tell Bruce I said hi.

“Alright, mom. I love you bye.”

Love you too, baby. Bye

You hung up the phone and looked up when you heard a small knock at your office door. Bruce was standing in the doorway, waiting for you to finish your phone call. He walked over and sat on the edge of your desk.

“Mom says hi,” you said, placing your phone on your desk and walking to stand in front of your husband. 

Bruce gave you the face he makes when he wants you to tell him what’s wrong, but he won’t ask. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you told him, placing your head on his chest.

“I didn’t say anything,” he responded, wrapping his arms around you tightly. 

“I would love to see everyone, but every time I’m in the same room with HER, it doesn’t end well. You remember,” you opened up. 

The memory of the last time you had a run-in with your sister. It was before you and Bruce adopted Dick. It was also the last family reunion you went to. The night just went downhill as soon as she walked into the house. It ended with her calling you a gold-digging whore and Bruce having to hold you back from attacking her. 

“Oh, I remember. You were scary,” he said with a smile as he kissed your head. 

“Mom. Scary? Impossible,” Damian said, walking in to check up on you. 

You knew that going to the reunion was a terrible idea. No matter how much you would love to be around everyone again. Bruce looked at you, and you knew whatever you decided, he was going to support you no matter what. 

“Your mother can be very scary,” he responded to Damian but still looked at you. 

“Demon, ask her about the letter,” you heard Jason “whisper” from the hall. 

You laughed and shook your head as you stepped out of Bruce’s warm embrace. Damian tried to act like he had no idea what Jason was saying or that he couldn’t hear his brother from the hall, but you knew better. When you walked past him to go to the door, Damian avoided eye contact and acted innocent. 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself, Jay,” you said, poking your head out of your office and looking at Jay. 

He quickly stood up and caught your other boys off balance, making them either stumble back or fall on the ground. You motioned with your head to come in while you walked back to your office. 

“Grandma says hi,” you said, sitting on your desk. 

“You talked to grandma,” Dick asked excitingly. 

Just seeing Dick’s reaction, you knew that you had to go for your sons. You looked over to your husband, and he knew what you were going to do. 

“That letter was from Grandma about a family reunion in two weeks,” you explained. “I didn’t say anything about it sooner because last time I was at a family reunion, it didn’t end well.”

“Your mother almost got into a fight,” Bruce explained further as he took out his phone and rearranged his schedule so he could go with you. 

“Mom getting into a fight. I would love to see that,” Jay said, sitting in one of the chairs in front of your desk and putting his feet on your desk. 

“You might jay bird,” you whispered. 

“So, are we going,” Tim asked. 

After taking a deep breath to calm your already anxious mind, you told them yes. You grabbed your phone to call your mother to tell her that you will be attending, so Bruce and the boys left your office. Your mother was super happy that you would be going home. She told you how she wasn’t going to tell anyone, so it would be a big surprise. After you hung up, you were heading back to spend time with your family when you overheard Bruce and the kids talking. 

“I can’t imagine mom getting in a fight,” Dick stated.

“You haven’t seen your mother with her sister,” Bruce responded, taking a sip of his drink.

“Aunt Lilah?” Tim asked.

“No, Sophia.”

“She has another sister,” Jason exclaimed. 

You walked into the living room, and the boys stopped asking questions because they didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or angry. You sat down next to your husband and Jason and put on a movie. 

The next two weeks consisted of your mother texting you how excited she was to have you, Bruce, and the kids back home. You also spent those two weeks learning some kind of calming technique Alfred knew in hopes it would help you not go crazy. The night before you left to head back to your hometown, the boys kept talking about how they were excited to see where you grew up and hopefully learn some embarrassing stories about you. 

In the morning, you woke up before Bruce and just watched the love of your life sleep. You trace your name over his chest when you hear a small laugh escape your husband’s throat. Your hands stopped as your eyes met his blue eyes. He grabbed your hand, brought it to his mouth, and placed a small is on the palm. 

“You don’t have to mark me. I'm already your’s,” Bruce said, pulling you onto him. 

“Shut it,” you smacked him. 

The two of you just lay there til Alfred knocked on the door and came in with two cups of coffee and the newspaper. He placed the try on Bruce’s nightstand and opened the curtains before leaving. Bruce handed you your cup, and you just wrapped your hands around the mug, absorbing its warmth. A light kiss on your right shoulder brought you back to reality. 

“Penny for your thought,” Bruce asked, leaving more kisses on your naked shoulders. 

“Wow, only a penny. When did you get so cheap,” you joked, placing your coffee on your nightstand and turning towards your husband. 

He let out a chuckle, pushing you on your back, and hovered over you. “When my wife got so expensive,” he joked, leaving love bites on your neck and collarbone. You slapped his chest at his comment. “I hate you,” you said, pulling him on top of you so you’re being crushed by his weight.

“Sure you do.” Bruce pried himself from your grasp to get ready for the flight. “As much as I would enjoy you staying like that for the trip, it might traumatize the kids,” he joked, staring at your naked form still lying in bed. 

“Or we can just forget the reunion and abandon our kids and just go on another honeymoon,” you suggested as you got out of bed and joined Bruce in the bathroom.

“They would find us,” he replied after giving your idea a moment's thought.

“And whose fault it is that they are great detectives,” you asked, getting into the shower. 

While you and Bruce were taking a shower, Alfred was in the room packing your bags for the trip. Since the boys haven’t seen your parents in a long time, you decided to spend a week at home. The boys were excited to get to spend so much time with their grandparents. 

“Your flight is scheduled to leave in an hour, so I suggest you two hurry up,” Alfred yelled as he left the room. 

“Last time I checked, it's my plane,” Bruce called back as he was helping you dry off. 

“The sooner you leave, the sooner I can find some actual peace,” Alfred replied, causing you to laugh. 

The boys were waiting in the living room with all their bags when you and Bruce finally got dressed. You saw how excited they were for the reunion, and you understood. You come from a giant and mainly loving family. They’ve heard a few stories from your childhood, and you noticed how there was a longing look in their eyes. So, you decided to push past all the drama and try your best to make this the best weekend for your kids. You want them to have a happy, normal family experience. 

“You guys ready to head out,” you asked, interrupting their conversations. 

They all jumped up, grabbed their bags, and ran to the car. You laughed at their antics as you followed them out. During the car ride to the airport, the boys were planning all the things they wanted to do during the week. Bruce pulled you against his side as you watched the kids.

“I brought some of the jokers laughing gas if you need it,” Bruce whispered into your ear.

“I'm gonna need it later, I’m fine now,” you laughed. 

“We can just drop the boys off and go do something just us,” he suggested, kissing the top of your head.

“No,” you exclaimed, jumping up and turning to him.

Bruce looked at you with concern and questioning. “What’s wrong,” he asked. 

“We are all going as a family,” you replied, ignoring his question. 

“Mom,” Dick asked.

“It's nothing, ok. I promise,” you replied, rubbing his back. 

As soon as you got on the plane, your outburst was forgotten by all except Bruce. As soon as the pilot said we were free to roam the plane, Bruce unbuckled your seat belt and pulled you into his lap.

“B, the kids are right there,” you lightly scorned as you tried to get out of his lap.

“As much as I would like to. I’d much rather talk about your outburst in the car.”

“I don’t want them alone around Sophia,” you told him. 

Before he could ask why, you pulled out your phone to show him the family bulletin email chain. You showed him the edition where Sophia announced the birth of her son, Aaron. And her reply to why the title was a new addition to the grandkids instead of the first grandchild. 

“She constantly refuses to acknowledge the boys as family. Because they are not blood, they don’t count,” you explained. 

“Sounds like Damien when he first came to us,” he joked, pulling you closer to him. 

“Yeah, but Damien matured and realized he was wrong. She never has. I’m worried she’s going to open her mouth and ruin their trip,” 

“They’ve heard all that before, especially when the world wants to know if/when we are going to have a baby. But they know the truth.”

“But that’s coming from strangers. This would be from family.”

“Does anyone else think that way?”

“No.”

“Then there should be nothing to worry about,” You relaxed in his arms and rested your head on his shoulder. “But if something does happen, I’ll release the laughing gas, and we can book it out of there.”

You let out a loud laugh, causing everyone to look at you. Bruce buried his face in your neck and just enjoyed the sound of your laughter. He only pulled away when Damien came over and glared at you. 

“Ummi, father, please, do not join the mile-high club while we are right here,” he said with a deadpan look on his face before going back to the video game he was playing with Jason. 

“Oh my god,” you said, trying not to laugh as you looked at your husband. 

“Damien, really,” he asked, turning to look at his youngest. 

“That’s your kid,” you said, getting back into your seat.

“Mine,” he laughed, quickly checking his phone. 

You nodded your head as you took a sip of your drink. The rest of the flight, Bruce did as much work as he could finish before the plane landed, and you read more of your book. When the plane landed, instead of a town car, your mother was standing by her minivan, jumping up and down. 

“She insisted on picking us up,” Bruce explained, helping you down the stairs. 

“Jida,” Damien yelled, jumping over the railing and running over to your mother. Your heart melted at the sight of Damien jumping into your mother’s arms. She spun him around and then put him back on the ground. As soon as she took a step back, Jason wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. 

“Oh my, baby, what are you feeding this one,” your mother laughed, hugging Jason back. 

“Jay, put Granny down before you hurt her,” Tim warned as he started putting the bags in the trunk of the minivan. 

Bruce helped Tim while you tried to greet your mother. Before you could get your hug, Dick stepped between you and stole your hug. “Oh my, look how tall you’ve gotten. Your being safe,” she asked, pushing him back slightly as she looked over him. 

“Yes, Granny, I'm being very careful at work,” he said, pulling her into another hug and kissing her cheek. 

Once he released her, you finally got your hug. “That one worries me all the time,” she whispered in your ear. 

“Me too, but I get texts after his shifts, so I know he is safe.”

“I need those too,” she said, looking at Dick and Jason as they smacked each other on the back of the head. 

“Oh, my favorite son-in-law,” your mother said as she pushed you aside to hug Bruce. 

“Hey, ma,” he said, kissing her cheeks. “You look amazing.”

“You’re already my favorite, no need to suck up,” she joked, slapping his arm. 

Your mother loved Bruce. As soon as you told her you were dating, she warned you to be careful cause of his reputation. But after she met him, she would always say, ‘Don’t do anything stupid to mess that up. I’ll choose him in the breakup.’ Sometimes, she’d just randomly call Bruce, and they would chat for a couple of hours. 

Once all the bags were in the car, Bruce insisted he drive so your mother could relax and catch up with the boys. You sat in the passenger seat so your mother could sit between Tim and Damien. 

While Bruce was driving, he kept one hand on the wheel and the other was holding your hand. You just watched him drive as you listened to the lively conversation in the back of the car. 

“Never thought I’d see THE Bruce Wayne drive a minivan,” you joked, drawing circles on his hand. “I should send Clark a pic so he has an exclusive.”

Bruce squeezed your hand in response. “Don’t make me tell Ma that you’re being mean to me.”

Even though he whispered it, your mother still heard, and she slapped your arm. “Leave my baby alone,” she scorned, gently shaking his shoulder, then she returned to Tim’s story. 

You quickly stuck your tongue out at Bruce, then quickly made sure your mother didn’t notice. When Tim finished his story, your mother leaned forward and told you how the rooms were made so you could stay with her.

“Mom, there is not enough room for all of us.”

“Please, unless you had planned on wasting money on five different hotel rooms, I have enough room. The boys will double up,” she said, playing with Damien’s hair. 

“What about everyone else.”

“I kicked them out. Told them they couldn’t stay the night. Besides, unlike you, everyone else lives close by.”

Deciding against arguing with your mother, you accepted that you were staying at home. When Bruce pulled into the driveway, your father was mowing the lawn. As soon as everyone got out of the car, Dick and Jason went over to your father to mow the lawn for him. 

“They don’t do that at home,” You commented, watching Dick push Jason to the ground and start up the lawn mower.

“Our lawn is too big for a normal lawn mower,” Tim said, getting the bags out of the car. 

“Ah yes, the plight of the rich,” you joked, ruffling Tim’s hair. 

Your mother carried in your small bag and carried it up to your room. Then, she showed Tim and Damien the guest room and Lilah’s room that she made up for them. Tim refused to share a room with Damien, so they went their separate ways. 

“You guys freshen up, and I’ll start dinner,” your mother said, leaving you in your room. 

“Absolutely not. You set everything up for tomorrow. I'm taking us all out for dinner. You just relax. And make sure to utilize the 12 hands you have to help with tomorrow,” Bruce said, holding her hands. 

“You’re too sweet,” she replied, gently patting his cheek. 

“He’s right, Mom. Why is no one here to help.”

“I didn’t ask Lilah 'cause she’s got her hands full with the kids and with Henry being deployed. I asked Sophia, but she said she couldn’t. But now I can put those boys to work. You baby them too much,” she replied, ignoring your look of disappointment. 

“Mom, you are the one that spoils them,” you joke. 

“They are my grandbabies it's my job. Now, why don’t you two hurry up and unpack? I'm ready to eat you out of house and home,” she joked, walking down the hall.

“If those boys couldn’t do that, I doubt you could,” Bruce joked back. 

After dinner and a lot of butt-kissing done by the kids, you and Bruce got ready for bed. You were doing your nighttime routine when Bruce came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you.  Bruce took the moisturizer out of your hands and, just held you and stared at you in the mirror. 

“I can feel your tension,” he said, kissing your neck. 

“I'm worried about tomorrow,” you admit. 

“I’ll fake a work emergency if you want.”

“Won’t be as effective since we are staying here.”

He chuckled and placed another kiss on your neck before telling you to hurry up and come to bed. Your mother never changed a single thing in your room, so it looks exactly like it did when you left for college. Same embarrassing posters. Same stuffed animals. Same book. Same twin-sized bed you were supposed to share with your gigantic husband. 

There wasn’t a single inch of room for you to lay next to him. Not that it mattered at home you have a California king yet seem to still sleep on top of each other overnight. You were going to lay on top of Bruce, but he moved, so he was on top. His head was on your chest, and your legs were tangled together. Even though you knew his feet were hanging off the edge, he quickly fell asleep. You, on the other hand, stayed up longer, running your finger through his hair, praying to anything and everything that nothing terrible happens tomorrow.

“Let her sleep some more,” you heard someone whisper before the door closed. 

Since you didn’t feel the 200-pound man on top of you, you figured that Bruce already started his day. You knew you should get up and help, but unlike the rest of your family, you are not accustomed to minimal sleep. But your plan to get more sleep was thwarted by a tiny body getting into the bed and jumping on your stomach. 

“Tete, wake up,” your niece yelled, trying to force your eyes open. 

“Robin,” you heard your husband whisper and pick the little girl off you. 

“It's morning time. Tete needs to wake up Ruce,” she said with her adorable lisp. 

“Tete is very tired.”

“But it's morning.”

“I'll give you candy if you let her sleep more.”

“5 dowars AND candy,” she said with as stern of a voice as a four-year-old can have. 

“You’re just like your aunt,” Bruce said before carrying the little girl out. 

Another 5 minutes passed by before you heard the door open. Someone walked in and sat at the foot of the bed. “I know you're awake, dummy,” your sister Lilah said, slapping your feet. 

“First, your kid jumps on my stomach, then you slap me. Your violence is spreading,” you joke, sitting up to hug your sister. “I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”

“Yeah, I figured mom was super busy and forgot to call me, but imagine my surprise when I find out the prodigal daughter returned.”

Lilah handed you a cup of coffee and climbed into bed next to you. It felt like the old days when you two would sit in your bed and talk about anything and everything. 

“You know I’m surprised you showed up,” she said, gently nudging your side. 

“Me too, but the kids missed Mom, and I can’t just keep hiding,” you admitted. 

“How’s Henry,” you asked, changing the subject before she was mentioned. 

“He’s good. Safe. And excited to hear what happens.” She laughs.

Robin opened the door and ran into the room laughing. Your husband came in after her and lifted her off the ground. 

“You promised,” he said, holding her upside down.

“It's been hours.”

“It's been 7 minutes,” he said, turning her rightsize up. “Oh, morning, sweetie.” He walked over to kiss you while holding a wiggly child. 

“Tete, you sleep forever,” she said, slipping from Bruce’s grasp and getting between you and Lilah. 

You handed your cup to Bruce and attacked Robin with tickles. Robin laughed and cried out for her mom to save her, but Lilah watched and said she should have listened and let Tete sleep. 

“Ruce, save me,” she laughed. 

“I got you, princess,” he said, pulling her from my grasp. “Come one, let's go help with breakfast.” 

Before he left, Bruce looked at you and blew you a kiss. You heard your sister laugh and gently kick you. Lilah caught you up on her life and what Robin has been doing and showed you pictures of baby James, who was snatched from her by your mother as soon as she stepped inside. 

You wanted to stay in bed longer, but the smell of cinnamon rolls filled the house. You and Lilah looked at each other before racing each other down to the kitchen. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” your father greeted, looking up from baby James. 

“Morning, Dad,” you said, kissing his cheek and then making faces at James. 

You took a seat at the dining table, and Robin came to bring you a cinnamon roll drenched in icing. “I made this one for you, Tete.”

The roll had so much icing that when you bit into it, you could’ve sworn that you got a cavity. Your mother came out of the kitchen and plopped down in the chair across from you. She looked exhausted. 

“All the food is prepped we just need to throw it in the oven,” she said, picking at a cinnamon roll.

“Mom, did you wake the kids to help you,” you asked, slightly scorning her. 

“They need their sleep they are growing boys,” she said. 

Before you could scorn her some more, she got up and said she was going to take a nap. Your father came over to you and handed you the baby, and dragged your husband outside to help set up the tables and chairs. 

After everything was set up and you put a couple of dishes in the oven, you brought James to the floor and played with his toys with him. Your kids sat on the couch watching TV while you got up with James every couple of minutes to switch out the dishes.

“How do you do that,” Dick asked, helping you put a dish in the oven.

“I’m a mom. It’s a mom superpower,” she said, closing the oven with her hip and starting the timer. 

“I can take him to make it easier,” he offered, holding his arms out. 

“Im fine, Dick. Besides, Im soaking up all the baby time I can get,” you said, blowing raspberries on James’ arm. 

At noon, people started showing up. First, it was your aunt and uncles, then your cousins. The next thing you knew, the house and backyard were filled with family members. 

“Im going to try and put him down for a quick nap,” Lilah said, taking James from your arms. 

“Okay. You can use my room. I think Damien and Jay are in your old room.”

You tried to find your husband but were suddenly being hugged by someone. “I can’t believe you’re here,” your favorite cousin said, hugging you. 

You turned to face them and gave them a proper hug. They dragged you outside and grabbed a drink. Just chatting with your cousin lifted your spirits, but then you heard Sophia’s voice and could have sworn there was the noise of a record scratch, then she stepped into the backyard. 

Aaron stepped from behind her, and his face lit up when he saw Dick entertaining the kids with his acrobatic skills. He ran to Dick, and luckily your son was done his flips when Aaron latched himself to his left leg. 

“Hey, nugget,” Dick said, picking Aaron up and tossing him up in the air. 

Just as Sophia came up to you, Bruce appeared by your side and kissed your temple. Sophia looked between the two of you and smiled. “Oh, you two are so cute. Im so glad it worked out so far,” she said, hugging you.  

Bruce wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to him. “She can’t get rid of me.” He gave you another kiss on the temple before hugging Sophia. 

“How have you been,” he asked since you couldn’t open your mouth without saying something mean. 

“Amazing, it’s hard with three kids under ten, but it’s so adorable watching them grow up,” she said with a condescending smile. 

“Sophia,” you heard her husband call as he came up behind her with a look of apology. “I was getting the kids out of the car, and you just disappeared.”

“I heard my sister was here I just had to come see her. I haven’t seen her in years,” she pouted. “How are the kids,” she asked, glancing over your shoulder. 

“My kids are great. They are over there with all the other kids,” you said, turning to wave at Damien. 

“Oh right, that’s Bruce’s son. I read about that in the news. So glad you two worked through that issue.”

“Damien is my son, too. And that’s none of your business,” you said, flexing your hand.

“Ummi, I'm hungry,” Damien said with a fake smile, trying to act like a normal 10-year-old. 

“Ummi,” your sister questioned. 

“It's Arabic for mother,” you said, grabbing Damien’s hand and bringing him inside to get him food. As soon as you got inside, you let his hand go and turned to him. “Which one put you up to that,” you asked, hugging him. 

“Father, he gave us signals so we could be a buffer. But I don’t understand why I had to act like an idiotic fool,” he scowled as he crossed his arms. 

“I love you,” you said, ruffling his hair. 

“I love you too, Ummi,” he said, grabbing a plate and grabbing his food. 

With that freedom, you decided to walk around and converse with anyone else. You were talking with weird Uncle Bert when Sophia found you again. Everyone in the room got quiet and just watched the two of you. 

“I’m so proud of you, little sis,” she said, rubbing my arm.

“Whatever for Soph,” you asked, slowly turning to her. 

“For putting on a brave face with Bruce’s affair and accepting the consequence with open arms,” she said with a genuine smile like nothing she just said was wrong. 

“Excuse me,” you exclaimed.  “First off, that consequence is my son, and I’ve already told you to mind your own business in the matter.”

“Sorry, I guess you’re still sensitive about it. I thought you and Bruce were in a good place.”

“We are,” you replied, confused about where she was taking this. 

“Oh good, so when are you finally going to have a kid,” she asked giddily. 

“I have four kids. But I’m not sure when we are going to have a baby,” you replied through your teeth. 

“Yes, of course you have ‘kids,’ but like an actual kid. You're the only one without one,’ she said, playing with a string on her sweater like she didn’t just insult you. 

“Why the air quotes, Sophia,” you asked, clenching your fist. 

“Cause they're not your kids. You didn’t give birth to them. They are not your blood. So they don’t count. 

Outside, Bruce was looking around for you when he saw Sophia’s husband looking around, too. “Scott, where’s your wife,” he asked with a small bit of panic in his voice.

“Hopefully not by your wife saying something very stupid.”

“Excuse me,” they heard you yell. 

“I think I found them,” Scott groaned, rubbing his face in annoyance. 

“Boys code red,” Bruce shouted before going inside. 

When he got to where you were, your face was red and cracking your knuckles. He could tell you were pissed. 

“What the hell do you mean they don’t count,” you asked, fuming. 

“Look, if it means that much to you, I'll let them get into the family photo,” Sophia said, holding her hands up.

“Oh, thank you so much for letting my kids join my family photo,” you said sarcastically. 

“You know how much mom loves her grandkids I just hope she gets some from you.”

“She has 4. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damien.”

“Real grandchildren.”

“Ok, that’s it. Just because they are not my blood and I didn’t give birth to those boys doesn’t mean they are not my kids. I love them with every ounce of my being. I came to this for them cause they missed Mom, but you came and opened your mouth, spouting ignorant shit once again. And if Bruce and I have a baby, I'm not going to love those boys any less. Cause I chose to love those boys, and they chose to have me as their mother, and nothing could top the feeling of hearing them call me mom for the first time. Now, please, for once, keep those thoughts to yourself. No one cares about your Etsy shop or how you're trying to start a media business.”

“I was being nice before, but since you want to be a bitch I can too. That little one is a freaking psychopath, and I don’t want him around my kids. The oldest is a terrible influence cause now Aaron wants to join a circus. The other one, Jason, is even worse. What kind of kid fakes his death at 13 years old? Guess you're not that great of a “mother.” I mean, look at his scars, and he’s probably on drugs. The only one I feel sorry for is Tim. He looks so sleep-deprived I'm not sure what you’re doing to that poor kid, but CPS needs to take him and the psycho away from you,”

Before you could attack her for threatening to take your kids away, you heard Damien yell out in pain. You pushed through the crowd that formed and went to him. 

“What’s wrong, dami,” you asked him. 

“I hurt myself outside,” he said with a tear falling down his cheek. 

You saw your mom staying in the kitchen and told her you were taking Dami to the hospital and weren’t coming back til Sophia was gone. When you stepped outside, you watched as Damien popped his shoulder back in place. 

“Damn, mom. I'm a bit scared of you now,” Jason said, scratching his head.

“Good. Not stop using Damien and a buffer, and don’t dislocate his shoulder again to do it.” You said, making sure Damien was okay. 

“Yeah, I could have faked it.”

“Are you okay,” Bruce asked, hugging you. 

“No, I hate her so much,” you said before turning to your boys. “I'm sorry about that. I hope you don’t take what she said to heart.”

“I mean, the demon is a psychopath,” Jason joked, earning him a kick in the shins from Dick. “No, mom. We’ve heard that kind of stuff before it doesn’t bother us cause you are our mom.”

You were hugging all your kids when the front door opened, and Sophia stormed out angry, and Henry followed with their three kids. Sophia sat in the passenger seat while Henry put the kids in the car. 

“I'm so sorry,” Henry said, coming over to say goodbye. “It was nice seeing you two again, and nice meeting your kids.”

“His wife is nuts, but he seems like a cool guy,” Tim said as the car pulled out of the driveway. 

Your mom came out of the house and saw that you guys were still here. “Is he okay,” she asked, looking over Damien. 

“Yeah, he just dislocated his shoulder. We popped it back in. Is Jen still in there so she can give him a quick look over,” you asked.

Your mother nodded and went to grab your cousin, the pediatric doctor. “Mother, I'm fine. I’ve done that hundreds of times,”

“I know, but I would still like a medical professional to check it out since your brother actually hurt you,” you said, glaring at Jason. 

“I was trying to stop a fight.”

Jenny came out and checked Damien’s arm. She said it seemed perfectly fine, but she would prefer to have it x-rayed to double-check, but for now, an ice compress at the joint will do. 

“Come on, boys, I’ve got to show you your mother's baby pictures. Have I ever told you about the time she went missing from home and we found her 3 hours later in the fireplace,” she called from the entryway. 

“Oh no,” you groaned, covering your face.

“No,” Jason laughed as he ran inside to gather some leverage for the next time he was in trouble.

“Fireplace,” Bruce asked, laughing. 

“You might as well go listen to see what you're getting yourself into if we have a baby,” you said, pulling him inside. 

“Why does a mini-you terrify me more than my night job.”

“Cause I was terrible growing up.”

“Was,” he asked, pulling your back towards him. 

“Listen here, Mr. Wayne,” you started to scorn before he pressed his lips to yours. 

“Oh my god Mom you started a fire at 3,” Dick laughed.

“It was an accident.”

“Yeah, I'm terrified for our future children.”

“Of baby. You should be terrified of our future children,” you said right before Damien yelled about how you told a police officer your mother kidnapped you cause she wouldn’t get you a toy.  

Bruce laughed and shook his head as the two of you walked into the house. 

[rottenaero]

Ao3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 3 of the roommate idea

Steve declines the hellfire invitation from Dustin, making up a pretend date, because otherwise he was not getting out of that one. He checked the time on the wall.

2:27

Yeah, alright.

He waited a few hours before getting ready and heading to the school.

The game starts in thirty minutes so they should be-

Steve grinned as he watched the back of Dustin move into the drama room.

Perfect.

He waited a minute, listening into their conversation before deciding that he didn't need to wait for them to stop because if they stopped that meant they were starting.

He slammed open the clubs door, making a couple people in the room jump.

“Steve! What are you doing here?" Eddie asked from his place on the throne. "DnDs over, pack up your shit.” He stated, leaving no room for argument.

Well, apparently a little room.

“What!! Why?! Last campaign of the semester, Mike leaves for Cali tomorrow!"

Steve furrowed his brows, and put his hands on his hips, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff weren't arguing, they knew he was serious, good.

“It can wait till he gets back, why would you even plan this a day before he leaves?”

“Why do we need to pack our shit?!”

Steve pinched his nose, "We're going to Luca’s basketball game.”

“What?!?”

“That traitor-"

“Stevie, darling, you can't be-”

“Why?!”

“You two know each other-”

Steve grimaced, a migraine starting at the fore-front of his mind.

“Please shut up, Christ.”

Eddie winced and immediately shushed everyone.

“We're going to this game, because even if Lucas doesn't get to play, we still gotta support him. Dustin, Mike, you guys have only gone to one of his games, his first one.”

He turned the other group, "Grant, Gareth, Jeff, fuck Eddie. None of you have gone to a game, I know it's not your usual shit but you gotta come. Hell, Erica, you're his sister, I mean, you’ve done an amazing job at showing up at the rest, so I can’t really complain about you.”

Dustin winced, “ Sorry Steve, but why does this matter so much to you? It's not the end of the world.”

Steve rubbed his arm, “ He needs someone to be there for him, even if he doesn't win. You can just do the damn campaign at Eddie's when Mike comes back.”

Mike, in question, scoffs, “And since when do you make the rules.”

Steve ignores him, reaching forward and grabbing Eddie's arm, and Erica’s shoulder. "Suit yourselves, but kinda hard to play DnD without the Dungeon Master, and Eddie and Erica don't have a choice.”

They make their way to the gym, a reluctant group of Hellfire in tow, and sit across the top of the bleachers. Steve waves at Robin from where he sits and then turns to Hellfire. “ Thank you guys for being reasonable."

Gareth scrunches his nose, “You cannot just keep stealing Eddie randomly.” Steve purses his lips, and leans into the man in question.

"Not stealing if he's okay with it, right Eds?” Eddie looked between the two, “ I'm sensing I should say yes?"

Steve grinned and patted his cheek. “Good boy."

Dustin turned to them, "Was Eddie the date you were talking about earlier? You tell seem awfully friendly."

Eddie flushed, and let's out an awkward laugh. " Steve wishes he could date me."

[theemporium]

if you decide to do luke & cherry blurbs, i love me some angst but i know you said you’re including angst in the actual storyline lol, but i really love the sweet domestic moments like when they take naps on her couch tg or she gives him head scratches so i’d love more wholesome stuff too that captures just how hard they are falling in love, although i love reading the smut it’s nice to also see the sweet side of their relationship 🫶🏼

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

series masterlist

.

“I don’t get it.”

You turned your attention away from the TV screen and towards the boy that was currently sprawled on top of you. 

“You don’t get what?” 

“This doppelgänger stuff,” Luke muttered, his cheek pressed against your stomach and his arms wrapped around your thighs. “So, there’s two of them now? Does everyone get a doppelgänger? Do we have to deal with two Jeremy’s?” 

You snorted, raising your hand to gently push through his curls. “No. Well, Stefan has a doppelgänger too but you don’t see him until, like, season five or something.” 

“Huh,” Luke hummed. “Who knew being a vampire brought so much drama.” 

“This is only season two, it gets so much worse,” you told the boy, watching with amusement as his head snapped up to look at you. 

“Worse? How can it get worse? She’s almost died every episode!” Luke scoffed, the episode now paused and his chin pressing against your lower stomach as he looked up at you like a lost puppy.

“It’s The Vampire Diaries, Luke, that’s the whole point of the show,” you snorted. “They cry. They die. Some come back to life. Some don’t. And you have to have that one character you despise no matter what even if they are liked by everyone else.” 

Luke nodded, looking oddly serious. “Jeremy Gilbert.” 

“And you get to meet the love of my life,” you added, lighthearted and playful and so unaware of the way the boy tensed on top of you. 

“Who?” 

You let out a wistful sigh. “Klaus Mikaelson.” 

“Klaus,” he repeated with a blink. “Like Santa Claus?” 

“Not Claus, Klaus,” you corrected, rolling your eyes. “He’s the best character in this show, just you wait and see. You’ll love him.” 

Luke laid his head back down on your stomach, a frown on his lips. “I’m sure I will.” 

“Don’t get jealous,” you mused, your nails scratching across his scalp. “I wouldn’t give Klaus head scratches and let him squish me for three episodes straight.”

“You’re comfy,” Luke huffed in response, nuzzling himself further against your stomach.

“And I guess you’re a pretty good blanket,” you teased lightly. “Save me a bunch on heating too.” 

Luke didn’t bother trying to hide his smile. “M’not that warm.” 

“You’re a fucking furnance, Hughes,” you retorted. 

“But you love it,” he snapped back. 

Your lips twitched. “Yeah, I guess I do.” 

Luke didn’t bother hiding the smile that took over his face. “Bet Klaus isn’t a furnace.” 

You snorted. “Drop it, Luke!”

.

[mononijikayu]

treasure in the sea — fushiguro toji.

“Okay, then, Toji….” you teased lightly, hoping to ease the heaviness of the moment. “What’s the most complicated thing in your life right now?” He laughed softly, the sound mixing with the crash of the water. “You asking me that, here of all places, doll.” he said, shaking his head as if you had walked right into some unspoken truth. You blinked, suddenly unsure of what to say. “What do you mean?” Toji met your gaze, the teasing spark in his blue–green eyes replaced by something more serious, more real. His voice was low when he spoke, just loud enough for you to hear over the ocean. “You, probably.”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: not safe for work (nsfw), r-18, angst, fluff, first love, friends to lovers, romance, love, drama, hurt/comfort, break up, college sweethearts, smut, kissing, oral receiving, implied p-i-v sex, sexual intercourse, pining, hurt, happy ending, domestic, loss, death, grief character death, guilt, parenthood, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of pining, depiction of parenthood, depiction of guilt, depiction of grief, depiction of character death, depiction of break up, mention of parting, mention of the past, mention of character death, mention of drug overdose, mention of sexual acts and conducts, dad!toji, mom! reader, son! megumi;

WORD COUNT: 14k words

NOTE: i can't believe that toji finally won a poll and with a massive lead. i loved writing this a lot and this was so exciting to write. this was based on this japanese show called umi no hajimari and i adored the show. everything about this was just so lovely. i feel like toji in canon did love megumi and mamaguro a lot, so i wanted it to translate here no matter what. there is smut here so this is a prelude to the kinktober event that starts on october 4th, 2024. i hope you enjoy that too!!! anyway, i love you all <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS LIKE FATE LET THIS HAPPEN. In the bustling crowd of students gathering around tables covered with colorful fliers, you spotted him: Zenin Toji, standing tall and frigid, looking somewhat out of place, his eyes scanning the scene as if he wasn’t quite sure where he wanted to be. 

Meanwhile, you, shorter and bright eyed, were grabbing every flier you could find, from the Art Club to Ultimate Frisbee. It was quite crazy, to see you grab them with a smile on your face over and over in a speed he couldn’t keep up with. Toji noticed your enthusiasm, probably confused by the sheer number of papers you were collecting.

You exchanged a glance, a brief nod and a small smile. But it was clear he wasn’t sure about the whole "college club" thing. He wasn’t even sure about joining school clubs in high school.

He lingered at a few tables, undecided, but eventually, you lost sight of him in the crowd as you moved on to collect more fliers and started mingling with the upperclassmen managing the booths accommodating the freshmen. Toji thought you were a dream, a moment’s notice. And yet, what he didn’t realize is that you were anything but that.

Later that evening, you attended a dinner event hosted for various clubs, a casual mixer where students could gather, chat, and get a feel for different groups on campus. To get used to college life. The room buzzed with laughter and conversation, and tables were spread with club brochures, each one trying to outshine the others to attract new members. 

You had settled at a table near the center, surrounded by people engaged in light conversation, but your thoughts kept drifting. You had collected a few fliers from the clubs you were curious about, but you still felt undecided. Well, they all had mixers in the upcoming days. So, you wanted to judge them by eating at the restaurants they went to. The better the food, the better you feel about the club!

As you chatted politely with a few others, you caught a glimpse of someone familiar out of the corner of your eye. That tall boy with that obnoxious gaze. Zenin Toji, who you'd seen earlier in the day looking equally disinterested, was seated a few tables away. His broad frame slouched back casually, yet something about his presence felt charged. The rest of the room seemed to fade for a moment as he caught your eye. A slow, playful smirk curled on his lips.

Before you could react, Toji stood and approached your table. Without hesitation, he plopped down into the empty seat beside you. "Still hoarding fliers?" he teased, his voice low and amused.

You glanced at the stack of fliers you had gathered, caught off guard by his casual confidence. “I guess I am.” you said with a small smile, half-laughing at his remark, trying to shake off the flustered feeling his sudden closeness brought. His presence seemed to shift the mood, drawing your focus entirely to him, while the rest of the room hummed in the background.

Toji leaned back in his chair, his gaze flicking between you and the fliers, clearly finding humor in your indecision. “Any standouts, or are you just collecting paper at this point?”

The playful banter had a magnetic pull, and despite not knowing much about him, you found yourself leaning into the conversation.

You shifted in your seat, the weight of his presence drawing you in despite the crowded room. “A little of both, I think.” you replied with a smirk, trying to match his easygoing attitude. You glanced at the fliers in your hand, suddenly self-conscious. “I’ve narrowed it down to a few, but… haven’t quite committed.”

Toji chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Commitment issues, huh?”

You shot him a playful glare. “Maybe I just like to weigh my options. I mean, the better the food, the better the shot.”

His smirk widened, and he leaned in slightly, his arm resting on the back of your chair. “Or maybe you’re overthinking it.” he said, his voice dipping lower, more personal. “Sometimes it’s better to just pick something and see what happens.”

The sudden shift in his tone sent a ripple of warmth through you, his casual confidence making it hard to resist the pull of the conversation. He didn’t seem like the type to overthink anything, which was probably why he intrigued you so much. Toji was all instinct and ease, a stark contrast to your careful, measured approach to things.

“Is that what you did?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Just pick a club and see where it takes you?”

Toji glanced around the room, as if he hadn’t really considered joining anything until now. “I haven’t picked anything yet,” he admitted, leaning back again, his arm still casually draped behind you. “Not sure if I will.”

You tilted your head, curiosity getting the better of you. “So why are you here then?”

He shrugged, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Maybe I was waiting to see what you’d pick.”

The comment caught you off guard, and you felt a faint blush rise to your cheeks. His teasing was effortless, and it disarmed you more than you cared to admit. “Oh, so now I’m the deciding factor?” you asked, trying to deflect with humor, but your heart skipped a beat at the playful challenge in his words.

“Looks like it.” he replied smoothly, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer than necessary. There was something unspoken in the air between you, an electric undercurrent that neither of you acknowledged but both clearly felt. Toji’s laid-back demeanor only heightened the tension, making it hard to look away from him.

Before you could respond, the conversation around the table picked up, a few people asking you about the clubs you’d been considering. You answered politely, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Toji, who remained seated comfortably beside you, like he had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself more and more aware of his presence—the way he occasionally leaned in to comment on something, his quiet observations that made you laugh, the subtle glances he threw your way. There was an ease to his company that surprised you, like you’d known him longer than just this fleeting encounter.

Eventually, the mixer began winding down, and people started to gather their things, heading out in groups or saying goodbyes. Toji stretched lazily beside you, his smirk still lingering.

“So, have you made up your mind yet?” he asked, glancing at the fliers one last time.

You held them up, looking between him and the colorful pages. “Maybe I’ll just join the one you do.”

Toji raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Now you’re the one following me?”

You shrugged, playing it off, but there was a spark of genuine interest behind your words. “Maybe I just want to see what happens.”

For a second, he looked at you like he was trying to figure you out, then his smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “Guess we’ll both find out, then…doll.” he said, standing up and offering you a hand.

You took it, feeling the warmth of his grip, and as you stood beside him, the energy between you shifted slightly. It wasn’t just playful teasing anymore—there was something real in the air, an unspoken understanding that this chance encounter might be the start of something neither of you had planned.

You stood there for a moment, hand still in his, feeling the weight of the moment linger between you both. Toji's grip was warm, firm but casual, and even as he let go, the imprint of that brief touch stayed with you. He glanced around the room, as if assessing how much time was left before the evening fully wrapped up, then turned back to you with a raised eyebrow.

“So…..” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Since you’re so indecisive about clubs, maybe we should keep in touch. In case you need more advice.”

You caught the playful glint in his eye, but there was an undercurrent of something genuine there too. Without really thinking it through, you reached for your phone. “Yeah, advice. That’s what I need, hm?” you joked, handing him your phone with a smirk.

Toji took it without hesitation, his fingers moving quickly as he typed in his number. He handed it back to you, and you glanced down to see his contact saved simply as Toji. No last name, just that. There was something almost intimate about the simplicity of it. He shot you a lopsided grin.

“Now you can bug me about which club to join, doll.” he teased, but his tone was soft, almost like he was saying more than his words let on.

You saved your number in his phone in return, noticing how natural it felt to exchange numbers with him, like this wasn’t the first time you’d done this. Maybe it was the easy way he carried himself, or the way his smirk softened when he looked at you, but it felt… effortless. You weren’t sure what that meant yet, but you liked it.

As you handed back his phone, you found yourself lingering, caught in the moment between what this was and what it could become. “I’ll hold you to that, you know. The advice.” you said lightly, breaking the tension but not quite dispelling it. Your gaze lingered towards him for a little too long. “You better answer, okay?”

Toji chuckled, his eyes glancing over your face like he was committing it to memory. “Why wouldn’t I?” he snickers back at you. “That means I’ll be hearing from you soon.”

The way he said it wasn’t a question—it was a certainty. Something about the confidence in his words sent a ripple through you. You nodded, feeling a smile tug at your lips as you tried to play it cool. “Maybe sooner than you think.”

He laughed quietly, clearly enjoying this little back-and-forth. “I’ll keep my phone close, then.”

Just as the room started to clear out, Toji took a small step closer, his voice lowering slightly. “See you around… and don’t overthink it. I’ve got a feeling you’re not as indecisive as you make yourself out to be.”

There was something almost intimate in the way he said it, like he saw through your front and into something deeper. Before you could reply, Toji gave you one last smirk, a teasing glance, then turned and walked toward the door, disappearing into the flow of people heading out.

You stood there for a moment, watching him go, your phone still in hand, his number glowing on the screen. The mixer’s noise buzzed in the background, but your mind was elsewhere, still caught on the feeling of that exchange—light and playful on the surface, but weighted with possibility underneath.

As you finally made your way to the exit, you found yourself thinking back on his words, the certainty in them. Maybe you weren’t as undecided as you thought. Or maybe Toji was the push you didn’t realize you needed.

Later, as you stepped into the cool evening air, your phone buzzed in your hand. A message flashed on the screen.

Toji: Already overthinking things?

You smiled to yourself, feeling the warmth of anticipation in your chest. Maybe this was the start of something, after all.

EVERYTHING QUICKLY STARTED FROM THERE. From that night, your friendship with Zenin Toji developed naturally, like you’d always known each other. You quickly fell into a rhythm of hanging out at various club events together, even though Zenin Toji never quite settled on joining any one group. 

He showed up with his usual laid-back grin, fliers still folded in his pocket, but it didn’t matter. The bond you formed over your shared indecision—and the string of free dinners at the events—was enough to keep you together. It was easy, lighthearted, the way you could sit with him at these gatherings and slip into conversation like you were old friends.

Toji was an engineering major, which surprised you at first, given his carefree attitude and lack of outward focus. He rarely talked about school, yet somehow, you could picture him excelling in that structured world of machines, calculations, and practical problems. In contrast, you were a classical music major, your world filled with compositions, performances, and delicate precision. It seemed like a strange match on the surface, but somehow, the two of you worked.

The more time you spent together, the more you realized that Toji had a knack for grounding you in ways you didn’t expect. When you’d get lost in your head, agonizing over pieces of music or second-guessing your choices, Toji had a way of cutting through the noise with his straightforward advice. “Don’t think so hard, doll.” he’d say, almost like it was the simplest thing in the world. And sometimes, it was.

Weeks turned into months, and your connection with him deepened. You found yourself spending more time outside of the club events, drawn together by your shared love for adventure. It became almost a tradition between the two of you.

The spontaneous outings where neither of you planned ahead, just picking up and going somewhere on a whim. Toji had this effortless energy about him that made you want to say yes to everything, even things you wouldn’t normally do. There was something freeing about being around him, like he gave you permission to let go of the structure you were so used to.

One of his favorite places to take you was the sea. You weren’t sure how it had come up the first time, but maybe during a casual conversation, or maybe you had mentioned it while reminiscing about the littlest of things, from your childhood memories to what shape of the cloud you think you see. 

But once Toji knew you had a deep connection to the ocean, he made a point of driving you there whenever he could. There was a stretch of coastline a couple of hours away, not too far but far enough to feel like an escape from the routine of classes and rehearsals.

The first time he took you, you had been stressed over an upcoming recital, feeling the weight of expectation pressing down on you. Toji had sensed it, of course, and in his usual no-nonsense way, he simply said, “Let’s go.”

The drive was quiet at first, filled with the sound of the engine and the open road. But as the scenery changed from city streets to winding coastal roads, you felt yourself relax, your worries melting away in the face of the endless horizon. When you finally arrived, the sea stretched out before you like an open invitation, the salty air filling your lungs and the rhythmic crashing of the waves soothing something deep inside you.

It was on that shore that you realized how much Toji meant to you. He didn’t say much, didn’t need to. He just stood there beside you, hands in his pockets, letting you have the space to breathe. His presence was steady, grounding, like the ocean itself—a constant in your life that you hadn’t known you needed.

Over the months, those trips became your refuge. Whenever things get overwhelming; whether it was school, life, or the inevitable chaos that comes with growing up—Toji would drop whatever he was doing at the time and drive you to the sea. You’d spend hours walking along the beach, talking about everything and nothing. 

Sometimes you’d sit in silence, both of you content just to be there, feeling the wind on your faces and the cool sand beneath your feet. It was sometimes better, enjoying each other’s company. Other times, you’d talk late into the night, sharing stories from your childhoods, dreams for the future, and even the occasional fear that lingered in the back of your mind.

For Toji, the sea seemed to bring out a different side of him—a quieter, more reflective side. It was during these trips that he’d let his guard down, offering glimpses into his life beyond the cool, carefree persona he usually wore. 

You learned that he’d grown up near the ocean, that it had been his escape as a kid, a place where he could forget the troubles waiting for him at home. He never went into too much detail, but you could hear it in his voice—the weight of something unspoken, a part of him that he wasn’t quite ready to share yet.

For you, the sea was a place of peace. It reminded you of childhood summers spent by the shore, of simpler times when the only thing that mattered was the sound of the waves and the feeling of sand between your toes. Being there with Toji brought back that sense of calm, of being anchored in the present, and you found yourself growing more and more attached to those moments together.

Your friendship was effortless, but there was something else growing between you, something that neither of you had acknowledged out loud yet. It lingered in the spaces between your conversations, in the way Toji would glance at you when you weren’t looking, or the way your heart would skip a beat when his hand brushed against yours as you walked along the shore. It wasn’t just friendship anymore—it was something deeper, something that made your time together feel heavier, more significant.

But for now, you didn’t push it. You let things unfold as they would, trusting that whatever was happening between you and Toji would make itself known in time. And until then, you were content to keep taking those spontaneous trips to the sea, finding peace in each other’s company, knowing that somehow, no matter where you were, you always found your way back to him.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the water as you and Toji waded into the sea. The cool waves lapped at your ankles, sending shivers up your spine as you walked further in, side by side. The gentle roar of the ocean filled the space between you, and for a while, neither of you spoke, simply enjoying the serenity of the moment.

The sea had become your shared escape, a place where words weren’t always needed but somehow always found their way into the quiet moments. Toji was waist-deep now, his eyes fixed on the horizon, that familiar smirk playing on his lips.

“You always get this serious when we’re out here, you know?” you said, splashing a bit of water in his direction, hoping to break the quiet spell. “What are you thinking about?”

He glanced over at you, dodging the splash with ease. “The ocean does that to me, doll.” he admitted. “Makes you feel small, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, understanding what he meant. “Yeah, but in a good way. Like nothing else matters out here.”

Toji tilted his head slightly, considering your words. His usual laid-back attitude softened, replaced by that contemplative side he only seemed to show when you were near the water. “Maybe that’s why I keep bringing you here, doll.” he said, his voice quieter now, almost drowned out by the sound of the waves. “Keeps things simple.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with the sun’s fading rays. “You do like things simple, don’t you?”

Toji gave a half-shrug, the corner of his mouth quivering. “Not everything, doll. I thought you knew that.”

There was a pause, and his words hung in the air between you. The two of you had been dancing around something for months now, that unspoken connection that neither of you had fully acknowledged. The tension between friendship and something more had always been there, simmering beneath the surface like the waves that rolled in at your feet.

“Okay, then, Toji….” you teased lightly, hoping to ease the heaviness of the moment. “What’s the most complicated thing in your life right now?”

He laughed softly, the sound mixing with the crash of the water. “You asking me that, here of all places, doll.” he said, shaking his head as if you had walked right into some unspoken truth.

You blinked, suddenly unsure of what to say. “What do you mean?”

Toji met your gaze, the teasing spark in his blue–green eyes replaced by something more serious, more real. His voice was low when he spoke, just loud enough for you to hear over the ocean. “You, probably.”

Your breath caught for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. He wasn’t joking, not this time. There was no playful smirk, no light teasing. He was being honest in that way only Toji could be—blunt, to the point, but with a tenderness you weren’t used to seeing from him.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling the depth of the water around you, the way it mirrored the depth of what was happening between you two. “I didn’t think I was that complicated.” you managed to say, your voice soft but laced with a nervous laugh.

Toji took a step closer, the water swirling around his waist, but the space between you felt even more significant. “You’re not. You never have been.” he said. “But what I feel for you? That’s the complicated part.”

His words sent a jolt through you, and your heart started pounding in your chest. The two of you had spent months building this connection, this unspoken bond, and now—here, in the middle of the sea, surrounded by nothing but water and the fading light of the evening—he was finally saying it out loud.

“I wasn’t sure in the beginning, doll.” Toji continued, his voice still low, careful, like he was treading new ground. “At first, I thought it was just us hanging out, being friends. But then… I don’t know. The more time I spent with you, the harder it got to keep things simple. And it all just….it just stopped becoming clear.”

You felt the pull between you growing stronger, the unspoken tension finally surfacing. It had been there all along, in the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching, in the way his casual touches lingered just a little too long. You could feel your heart beating out your chest, your eyes tense as you looked at him.

“Toji….” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel it too.”

He didn’t say anything right away, but the relief that washed over his face was unmistakable. It was as though the tension disappeared as his shoulders dropped. The waves lapped gently at your legs, the soft push and pull mirroring the emotions between you. Toji stepped even closer, so close now that you could feel the warmth of his presence despite the cool water surrounding you both.

“I don’t do complicated things, doll.” he said, his bright beautiful eyes locking onto yours.“but I’m willing to try if it’s with you.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you like a wave. Toji, the man who seemed so laid-back and sure of himself, was standing here, opening up in a way you hadn’t expected. He was offering you something real, something he didn’t give easily.

You reached out, letting your hand find his beneath the water, your fingers intertwining with his. “I don’t need simple.” you said, smiling softly. “Well, not without you. I just…. need you.”

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, the only sound the steady crash of the waves, the only feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. Toji’s gaze softened, and in that moment, it felt like something between you had finally clicked into place. Something unspoken, something that had always been there, was now laid bare between you.

He smiled then, that familiar, easy grin, but this time, it was softer, more genuine. “Guess that settles it, huh?”

You laughed, feeling the tension finally break, replaced by a sense of peace that only the sea and Toji—could give you. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

And as the two of you stood there, hand in hand, the sun setting behind you, the waves rolling gently at your feet, it felt like the beginning of something new—something neither of you could predict but both of you were ready to dive into together.

IT WAS LIKE FLOATING IN THE CLOUDS, EVERYTHING AFTER THAT. After that day at the sea, things between you and Toji shifted into something deeper. You started dating officially, but it wasn’t much different from before, just more intentional. You went everywhere together—spontaneous weekend trips, late-night diner runs, quiet evenings at your place with takeout and music playing in the background. 

He made you laugh like no one else could, and you found yourself feeling lighter in his presence. No one could make you feel this happy. Not anyone. Just your Toji. After that day at the sea, everything changed between you and Toji, but in the most natural way.

The shift wasn’t abrupt—it was like everything you both had been dancing around finally clicked into place. You were officially together now, but it didn’t feel that different from before, except for the fact that everything seemed more deliberate, more real.

Dating Toji was a blend of excitement and comfort. You found yourselves constantly making spontaneous decisions, from late-night drives to nowhere, to impromptu weekend getaways. He had this knack for making every moment feel like an adventure, even if all you were doing was stopping by a hole-in-the-wall diner at 2 AM for greasy burgers and fries. Somehow, the world felt bigger with him, like there was always something new to discover as long as he was by your side.

The quiet moments became just as meaningful. You’d sit together at your apartment, the dim glow of the city outside your windows, takeout containers spread across the coffee table as some old-school vinyl hummed softly in the background. Toji wasn’t one for endless conversation, but when he did speak, it was either to crack a joke that left you laughing uncontrollably or to say something so unexpectedly sincere that it left you speechless.

And the way he looked at you, with those sharp eyes softened just for you, made your heart race in a way no one else ever could. He had this rough exterior, intimidating to most, but with you, he was different—gentler in a way that seemed reserved for you alone. There were times when he’d pull you close without a word, his arms wrapped around you, as if to remind you that he wasn’t going anywhere, that you were his, and he was yours.

You never realized how easy happiness could feel until him. Sure, life had its ups and downs, but with Toji, the weight of the world seemed lighter. He made you laugh like no one else ever could, often in the simplest, silliest ways. Whether it was his dry humor or those stupid pranks he'd pull just to see you roll your eyes—everything about him had the power to brighten your day.

And then there were the quieter realizations, the ones that snuck up on you when you least expected it. Like when you’d catch him glancing at you from across the room, and there was something so tender in his gaze that it almost took your breath away. Or when he’d grab your hand in a crowded place, lacing his fingers through yours as if it were second nature, making you feel like the safest person in the world.

The truth was, no one made you feel the way Toji did. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but neither were you, and that was what made it work. There was no pretense with him, no need to hide or hold back. He saw you for who you were, accepted you, and made you feel like you were more than enough. In his presence, you felt lighter, freer, like everything was easier when you were together.

No one else could do that. Not anyone. Just your Toji.

He was your person, your unexpected joy, and as things deepened between you, you realized that he had become so much more than just a part of your life. He was your home.

He was at your place again after finals. It was like a magnetic pull; he couldn’t stay away from you, even after the grueling physical test that left him spent and drenched in sweat. Yet, here he was—unbothered by his disheveled state. His body craved yours, and you could sense that same hunger in yourself. You had been waiting, yearning to close the distance, to touch him, taste him—everything.

As your boyfriend’s hand tenderly wrapped around your wrist, he tried with all his might to stop you. He had that surprised look on his face, almost as though he’d been caught off guard. You could feel your boyfriend's grip firm but almost too careful, almost too cautious. You looked at him with those bright doe eyes.

“Doll, what are you doing? I’m supposed to be the one to go down on you—”

You didn’t let him finish at all, leaning towards him and kissing him passionately. You smiled against the way he kissed you back, his palm touching your cheek as the gravitational pull drew you both closer, deeper and deeper into the kiss. You parted your lips from him and took a moment to pull his hand away from your wrist. It was strong but tenderly gentle. You shove it away. You slowly knelt in front of him.

“Let me do this first. Please.”

Toji could feel his breath hitch deeply. All he could feel at that moment was the way his knees trembled. He was sure that he was feeling it. It was too obvious. Everything about this was giving away the struggle between resistance and desire. 

“Here? In your kitchen, doll?” His voice cracked slightly, weary hesitance betrayed by the heat that cut through the reverberation of words. His blue–green eyes darted down to where you were, your hardened resolve so clear, and then back to him with a wanton glance at the sweat on his bright tan skin. “You can’t be serious, I have to cook our dinner now—”

“Please. Now.”

“Now?” Toji's question was more like a whisper, a mix of confusion and longing. It was as though he wasn’t sure if he should stop you or let you take him, right there, without a second thought. It was as though he was having a hard time figuring it out. “I can’t…I can’t just have you do this in the kitchen. It’s not even clean….”

His body told you all you needed to know. He wanted this as much as you did. You didn't answer him with words. Instead, you held his gaze, your intensity silencing the doubt that lingered in his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, your fingers trailed along his thigh, firm but teasing. His breath hitched again, sharper this time, and his hand flexed at his side as if unsure whether to stop you or let you take full control.

"Just let me, baby. Please, Toji." you whispered, your voice low and thick with need. It was a command, but more than that, a plea. You needed this—needed him.

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and you watched his resolve melt away. His chest rose and fell unevenly, each breath ragged, as though he was on the edge of a precipice, uncertain whether to fall or hold back. But when his hand, the one he'd tried to use to still you earlier, moved to your head, fingers tangling softly in your hair, you knew his decision.

"You’re—" He tried to speak, but the words failed him. Whatever argument or hesitation he had left was swallowed by the way his body responded to your touch. The tension in him snapped like a taut string, and all that remained was the heat between you.

You leaned closer, lips ghosting over his skin, the salt of his sweat mixing with the warmth radiating from him. Every inch of him felt alive under your hands, and you could feel his pulse racing, mirroring your own urgency.

His grip in your hair tightened ever so slightly, and the sound that escaped him was one of surrender. "Fine…fine." he breathed out, a soft growl that sent a shiver down your spine. "Whatever you want… just—"

His words faltered again, but it didn’t matter. You knew exactly what he meant. Your fingers slid down his abdomen, feeling the tension ripple beneath his skin as you lowered yourself further. His muscles twitch involuntarily under your touch, betraying his anticipation despite his earlier hesitation. You could hear his breath hitch again, faster this time, his hand still tangled in your hair, half-pulling, half-guiding you as though he couldn’t decide whether to hold back or let go.

You knew, though. He wanted this as badly as you did, even if his mind had yet to catch up to his body’s desires.

You pressed a kiss just above the waistband of his pants, slow and deliberate, feeling him tense beneath your lips. His hips jerked slightly, a reaction he couldn’t contain, and you smiled to yourself at the effect you were having on him. Your fingers toyed with the waistband, teasing him, drawing out the moment just a bit longer.

“Stop teasing…” he muttered, voice breathless and strained. His grip in your hair tightened for emphasis, but it lacked the conviction to pull you away. He was already lost in this, even if he tried to pretend otherwise.

You finally obliged, tugging down his pants, the fabric sliding against his skin, revealing him fully. His body shuddered at the sudden exposure, and a soft, involuntary groan escaped his lips as the cool air met his flushed skin.

You didn’t waste time after that, leaning in with purpose, your tongue flicking out to taste him. The groan that followed was deeper, rawer, his hand now gripping your hair tightly, holding on as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His legs trembled beneath your touch, and his breath came in ragged gasps as you moved, your mouth working him over with a slow, deliberate pace.

Every sound that escaped him, every twitch of his body, spurred you on, and you could feel him losing control. His hips buckled forward, desperate for more, and his other hand clutched the edge of the sofa behind him, knuckling white from the strain.

“Fuck.” he breathed, voice hoarse and barely audible, his entire body tense with the pleasure building inside him. “Don’t stop… just like that…”

You could feel him unraveling, every touch, every flick of your tongue driving him closer to the edge. And you were glad for it. You were giving it to him. You were the cause of his pleasure.  His breath came in short, sharp gasps, and his body trembled under your ministrations.

He was close, and you knew it, but you kept going, pushing him further, not giving him a moment to recover or catch his breath. His head fell back, his chest heaving as he surrendered completely to the sensations coursing through him.

And then, with a final, ragged groan, he came undone beneath you, his entire body tensing as waves of pleasure crashed over him. His grip on your hair loosened, and he slumped back against the sofa, utterly spent, chest rising and falling heavily.

You pulled back slowly, watching as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes half-lidded, glazed over with satisfaction. His hand slid weakly from your hair, his body still trembling in the aftershocks of his release.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the room filled only with the sound of his heavy breathing. Then, finally, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as though in disbelief at what had just happened.

“God.” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You really don’t play fair, do you?”

You smiled, wiping your lips as you leaned back on your heels. “I told you to let me do this.”

He laughed again, softer this time, eyes meeting yours with a mix of exhaustion and adoration. “Yeah, doll.” he whispered, voice still breathless. “You did.”

As the air settled between you, his breathing evened out, and he leaned forward. Before you could react, Toji’s strong hand cupped your face, pulling you in for a strong, passionate kiss. It was sudden, raw, his lips crashing into yours with the kind of intensity that took your breath away. 

His mouth was warm and demanding, and the taste of his. It was making him feel hotter. And it made you hotter that the taste of his juice was being shared between the two of you. It was too good, the heat, salty taste and something uniquely his—flooded your senses.

You felt a shiver race down your spine as his tongue brushed against your lips, coaxing them apart. Without thinking, you melted into him, letting him take the lead. The way his hand moved from your face to your neck, fingers pressing just enough to make you feel his power, sent your mind spinning. He didn’t give you time to catch your breath, the kiss growing more fervent with each passing second.

When he finally pulled back, both of you gasping for air, his dark, sharp eyes locked onto yours. A smirk curled at the corner of his mouth, and there was something dangerous in his expression—something that made your heart race faster than before.

“My turn, doll.” Toji rasped, voice low and gravelly, dripping with intent. His thumb traced your bottom lip, as though marking the spot where his mouth had just been. "You didn’t think I’d just let you have all the fun, did you?"

Before you could respond, his hands were on you, rough but purposeful, guiding you up and onto the couch. His grip was firm as he pressed you down, positioning himself between your legs, eyes dark with hunger. He wasted no time—there was no hesitation in his movements, only a primal desire to return everything you’d given him moments ago.

Toji’s lips found your neck, trailing hot kisses down to your collarbone. Each kiss, each brush of his lips against your skin sent electric jolts through your body, heightening your senses. He was taking his time now, savoring each second as he moved lower, his breath hot against your chest.

He paused briefly, looking up at you, that same wicked smile playing on his lips. "Relax. You’re gonna want to enjoy this."

With that, he moved lower, and your breath caught in your throat as his mouth descended. The sensation was immediate, overwhelming. His tongue was slow and deliberate, moving with the kind of precision that had you gripping the edge of the couch within seconds. Your back arched involuntarily, and a soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

"That’s it." he murmured, the vibrations of his voice against your skin making you tremble. "Let me take care of you."

Toji’s pace was unhurried, savoring the way your body responded to him, but there was a ferocity behind his touch that let you know he wasn’t going to stop until you were completely undone. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, his strength evident in every subtle movement.

Each flick of his tongue, each stroke of his lips sent you spiraling, and soon you were lost in the sensation. Your hands found his hair, fingers gripping tightly as you struggled to stay grounded, but it was impossible. Toji was relentless, expertly pushing you further and further, until you were right on the edge, your entire body trembling under his touch.

"Toji," you gasped, your voice breaking as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity. "I—"

But he didn’t let you finish. Instead, he quickened his pace, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pushed you over that edge. The sensation hit you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering as the pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and shaking beneath him.

For a moment, the world went hazy. All you could hear was your own heartbeat, loud and fast in your ears, and the sound of Toji’s deep, steady breathing as he slowly pulled away.

When your vision cleared, he was leaning over you, eyes filled with satisfaction. His lips curled into a familiar smirk as he wiped his mouth, clearly proud of the way he had left you undone. "Told you it was my turn." he teased, his voice smug, but the warmth in his gaze softened the edge.

You couldn’t help but laugh, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah," you managed to say, voice hoarse. "I think you made your point."

Toji leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, this time slower, more intimate. "Good." he whispered against your mouth. "Because I’m not done with you yet."

EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIP, IT WASN’T PERFECT.  And you always knew that, even in the best of moments. There were times when Zenin Toji’s recklessness frustrated you or when his silence left too much unsaid. But none of that ever seemed to matter in the grand scheme of things. 

What mattered was that it was real, and despite the flaws, both of you were genuinely happy. Toji had a way of making life feel effortless, as though the weight of the world didn’t matter when you were with him. His presence made everything feel simple, even when it wasn’t.

For a while, you let yourself believe in that simplicity. You believed that the two of you could live in this uncomplicated, happy bubble forever, like nothing could shake the foundation you’d built together. Every laugh, every stolen glance, every spontaneous trip made it easy to forget about the uncertainties that loomed in the background. With Toji, life felt lighter, almost as if the two of you existed in a world separate from everyone else’s struggles and complications.

But then something shifted. It was subtle at first, a creeping unease you couldn’t quite place. Until one day, your world came crashing into focus. You found out you were pregnant.

The moment the test came back positive, the air seemed to leave the room. You sat in the bathroom, staring at the two lines on the test, your mind racing but stuck at the same time. Hours seemed to pass, or maybe just minutes. Time had no meaning at that moment. All you could focus on was the weight of the news in your hands and the way everything suddenly felt heavier, more real, more terrifying than you’d ever imagined.

How could this have happened? Sure, you and Toji had been careless at times, but it never seemed like a real possibility….until now. And now, you were faced with a reality you hadn’t prepared for, a future that felt overwhelmingly uncertain.

You were scared. Not just for yourself, but for Toji too. You had no idea how he’d react, and that terrified you even more. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who liked to plan or think too far ahead. He thrived on spontaneity, on living in the moment, and the idea of something as permanent and life-altering as a baby… you weren’t sure how he’d handle it.

Would he be angry? Dismissive? Or worse—indifferent?

The thought of having that conversation made you feel physically ill. You had played out the scenario a hundred times in your head. Maybe he’d shrug it off like it was no big deal, or maybe he’d walk out without a second thought. Or maybe he’d surprise you, like he had so many times before, and show a side of himself you hadn’t expected. The uncertainty gnawed at you, filling your chest with a kind of dread you hadn’t experienced before.

You spent the next few days trying to find the right moment, the right words, but nothing ever seemed good enough. Each time you looked at him, your throat tightened. He’d catch your gaze, and you’d quickly look away, afraid that he’d somehow see the truth written all over your face before you were ready to say it out loud.

But it was inevitable. You couldn’t hide it forever, and sooner or later, you’d have to face what this meant for both of you. Would it change everything? Could your relationship survive something so monumental? You didn’t know. The only thing you knew for sure was that your world had already shifted, and there was no going back.

That evening, when he came over to your apartment, you were sitting on the couch, your hands clasped together, trying to gather the courage to tell him. Toji sat beside you, noticing your tense posture immediately.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly in concern.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing in your chest. “Toji, I need to tell you something.”

His expression shifted, becoming more serious. “Okay. What’s up?”

“I’m pregnant.” The words fell from your lips like stones, sinking into the quiet space between you. You watched his face closely, trying to read his reaction, but it was hard to tell what he was feeling at first. He blinked, his mouth slightly open, as though trying to process the information.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, his mind working behind his eyes. You could see the shock there, the confusion, the disbelief. His silence made your heart pound even harder.

“Toji?” you prompted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He finally exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Are you… sure?”

“Yeah. Of course I am.” you nodded, your throat tightening. “I took a test.”

Another silence stretched between you, the weight of the situation settling in the room. Toji leaned back slightly, his face unreadable as he stared at the floor, his brows furrowed in thought. It wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t joy either. It was something heavier, something more complicated.

“I—” he started, then stopped, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to say.”

The pit in your stomach deepened. You had known this would be hard, but seeing him so stunned, so lost, was more painful than you had anticipated.

“Toji, listen…. I just… I already planned this out and I thought about it.” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t want to make this hard on you.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes sharp, questioning.

“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice low.

You took another breath, already feeling the tears welling up behind your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it. Calmly. And…honestly.… I’ve decided I’m going to get an abortion.”

His blue–green eyes widened slightly, and for the first time since you’d told him, you saw a flicker of something raw, something close to fear in his expression.

“An abortion?” he repeated, his voice sounding hollow.

“Yeah, I am.” you nodded, trying to stay composed. “I don’t think we’re ready for this, Toji. I don’t want to complicate your life any more than it needs to be. With your family being rough and everything, I just…I don’t want this to add to your life. And I don’t want it to be harder on us, I mean we’re in college with nothing.”

He was quiet for a long moment, but the tension in his body was palpable. He was thinking, processing, trying to make sense of everything. When he finally spoke again, his voice was firm, but there was something broken underneath it.

“Are you… doing this for me?” he asked, his jaw clenched. “Because if you are, don’t.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden force in his words. “Toji, listen… I’m just trying to make it easier for you—”

“No, no.” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t make that decision because of me. If you don’t want this, fine. But don’t do it because you think I can’t handle it.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as the conversation turned heavier than you had anticipated. Toji had never been the type to be openly vulnerable, but there was something in his eyes now, something deeper than shock. It was fear. Not of the pregnancy itself, but of you taking that choice away from him.

“I’m not. I promise, I’m…” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “It’s not just about you, Toji. It’s about me too. We’re not ready for this—”

“And what if we are?” he cut you off again, his voice strained. “What if we could be?”

You shook your head, tears finally slipping from your eyes. “It’s too much. We’re not even finished with school. I don’t want to mess up your life.”

Toji reached out, his hand gripping your arm, not hard, but firm enough to make you stop. “You think this would mess up my life?” he asked, his eyes searching for yours. “What about yours?”

The question hit you hard. You had been so focused on how Toji would react, on how this would change his future, that you hadn’t fully considered what this meant for you. It wasn’t just his life that would change—it was yours too. And the truth was, you were terrified of that change.

“I don’t know what to do.” you whispered, finally letting the fear show in your voice.

Toji’s expression softened, and for the first time since the conversation started, he pulled you into his arms. His grip was strong, steady, like he was trying to anchor you in the chaos of your own emotions.

“We don’t have to decide everything right now, doll.” he said softly, his voice close to your ear. “But don’t do this just because you think it’s the right thing for me.”

You closed your eyes, resting your head against his chest, letting the weight of his words sink in. You didn’t know what the future held, or what the right decision was. All you knew was that, for the first time in a long while, you weren’t facing this alone.

IT WAS A FEW WEEKS LATER.  Zenin Toji sat in the crowded cafeteria, only half-aware of the conversation around him. The buzz of his classmates discussing internships, upcoming exams, and their futures faded into the background as he absentmindedly poked at his food. 

His thoughts were elsewhere, drifting between the monotony of the day and the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. It had been a few days since he last saw you, but with finals and the usual chaos of student life, it wasn’t unusual. He figured you were busy, like everyone else.

But then a group of your friends approached. Their faces were drawn with concern, their eyes darting nervously around the room as they stopped in front of him. Toji barely registered their presence at first, his mind still elsewhere, until one of them spoke up.

“Toji, hey.” her voice was soft but edged with worry. “Have you seen her?”

He frowned, snapping back to the present. “What are you talking about? Who?”

“Her. You know…” she repeated, her words hitting a little harder this time. “Your girlfriend. She’s not in her dorm, and we haven’t seen her around campus. She dropped out, Toji. The professors said she withdrew from all her classes.”

The fork in his hand froze mid-air, his breath hitching as the words landed with a gut-wrenching thud. Dropped out? You? No. That couldn’t be right. You hadn’t mentioned anything about dropping out or even considering it. The last time you spoke, everything seemed normal—at least as normal as it had been lately. But this? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t like you to just disappear, especially not without saying anything to him.

Toji’s chest tightened, panic swelling beneath the surface, though he tried to mask it with his usual composed demeanor. “What?” he asked, his voice sharper than intended, laced with disbelief. “What do you mean she dropped out?”

“I don’t know..” one of your friends replied, her own uncertainty mirroring his. “She’s just… gone. We checked everywhere—her dorm, the library, even the places she liked to hang out. She’s not answering her phone. And when we talked to the professors, they confirmed it. She withdrew from all her classes yesterday.”

His heart pounded in his chest, a sinking feeling spreading through him. Gone. The word echoed in his mind, heavy and suffocating. None of this made any sense. He thought back to the last few times you were together, searching for any clue, any sign that you were planning something like this. But nothing stood out. You had been a little distant lately, maybe, but you always brushed it off as stress from school.

The thought of you leaving without saying a word, of just vanishing from his life like that, was like a punch to the gut. Toji wasn’t used to feeling powerless, but right now, that’s exactly what he felt. He had no control, no idea what was going on, and the uncertainty of it all gnawed at him like a vicious storm.

“Did she… did she say anything to any of you?” he asked, his voice rougher now, desperate for some kind of explanation. “Anything about why she’d do this?”

Your friends exchanged uncertain glances, but none of them had answers. One of them finally spoke, shaking her head. “No, she didn’t say anything. She’s been quiet lately, but we didn’t think she was planning to leave like this.”

Quiet. Distant. It all started to add up, piece by piece. You had been pulling away, hadn’t you? It was subtle, barely noticeable at first, but now, in hindsight, it seemed so clear. Toji’s mind raced with possibilities—was this about the pregnancy? 

Did you feel like you couldn’t tell him? Did you think he wouldn’t want this? His stomach twisted at the thought. He wasn’t the best at dealing with emotions, but if you had come to him, if you had just told him… he would’ve figured it out with you.

He pushed away from the table, standing up abruptly, his heart racing. “I’m going to find her.”

“Toji—” one of your friends began, but he was already moving, his mind set. He had to find you, had to understand what had driven you to this decision. Whatever was going on, he needed answers—needed to hear it from you.

Because the idea of losing you, of you walking out of his life without even a word, was something he wasn’t prepared to face.

Without a second thought, Toji pushed his chair back, standing up abruptly. His classmates glanced at him, startled, but he barely registered their reactions. His phone was already in his hand, and he started dialing your number as he made his way out of the cafeteria, his steps quick and purposeful.

The ringing on the other end felt like it lasted forever. His heart pounded harder with each unanswered ring, his mind racing with questions. Why hadn’t you told him? Why had you left?

Finally, you picked up.

“Toji.” you said quietly, your voice strained, almost like you had been expecting this call but had dreaded answering it.

“Where the hell are you?” he asked, trying and failing to keep the frustration and panic out of his voice. “Your friends came up to me. They said you dropped out. What’s going on?”

There was a pause, a heavy silence on the other end, before you finally answered.

“I left.” you said softly.

“What do you mean you left?” His voice was sharper now, disbelief and anger mixing together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t.” you replied, your tone distant, guarded.

“Couldn’t?” Toji repeated, his frustration growing. “You just decided to leave without saying anything? That’s it? That’s your explanation?”

You were quiet for a moment, and Toji could hear the sound of your breathing on the other end. His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he made his way toward your dorm, his pace quickening. He could feel it, something’s not right. And he didn’t like it. He didn’t like this.

“I just… I can’t do this anymore, Toji.” you finally said, your voice cracking, though you were trying hard to keep it steady.

His chest tightened at your words. “What are you talking about? Can’t do what? We’re supposed to figure this out together!”

“I don’t want to make things harder for you.” you said, your voice soft and strained. “I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

Toji stopped in his tracks, standing just outside your dorm. His hand was already on the door, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock. “Trapped?” His voice was low now, disbelief coating every word. “You think I feel trapped?”

“You deserve more than this, Toji.” you said, your tone hollow. “More than me. I can’t keep doing this to you.”

“To me?” His voice grew louder again, anger mixing with the hurt that was now undeniable. “You think leaving without a word, without even trying to talk to me about it, is making things easier? You think this is what I want?”

Another silence stretched between you, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

“I can’t do it anymore, Toji.” you repeated, your voice more final this time. “I can’t do… us.”

Toji’s hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles turning white as he leaned his head against the door, trying to hold back the surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He had never been good with feelings, never been good at expressing what was going on inside his head, but this—this was different. This was you.

“Why?” he asked, his voice raw, the hurt finally slipping through the cracks in his defenses. “Tell me why. I thought we were in this together.”

Your breath hitched on the other end of the line, and Toji knew you were trying to hold back tears. “I’m sorry.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But I have to do this. I’m breaking up with you, Toji.”

His stomach dropped. He had heard the words, but they didn’t feel real. Not yet. Not when you were still on the other end of the line, not when he was standing outside your door.

“Don’t do this, doll.” he said, his voice low and pleading now. “We can figure it out. Whatever it is, we can fix it. You don’t have to run.”

But you didn’t answer. The silence on the other end grew heavier, suffocating, until it became clear what you were doing.

“You’re really doing this?” Toji asked, his voice thick with disbelief. “You’re just leaving?”

“I’m sorry, Toji.” you whispered again, and then the line went dead.

He stood there, the phone still pressed against his ear, the empty dial tone ringing in his mind. You were gone. You had left, just like that. The weight of it all hit him at once—the pregnancy, the future you both had avoided talking about, the life that had suddenly unraveled in a single moment.

For the first time in a long while,  Zenin Toji felt lost.

HE BLINKED AND IT WAS THE FUTURE. Years had passed since that fateful conversation, and life had unfolded in unexpected ways for Zenin Toji. He had poured himself into his work, rising through the ranks to become a top engineer at his company. His days were filled with projects and deadlines, and while the ache of the past lingered in the back of his mind, he had learned to compartmentalize it.

He was dating someone new now, a woman who brought laughter and light into his life. They shared quiet dinners, spontaneous weekend trips, and plans for a future that felt bright and hopeful. Toji had learned to enjoy the moments, to savor the present without the weight of what could have been pulling him down.

But one afternoon, as he was wrapping up a meeting, his phone rang. The name on the screen made his stomach drop: it was one of your old friends.

He answered, his tone casual. “Hey, what’s up?”

The silence on the other end was heavy, laden with a gravity that sent a chill down his spine. “Toji… I need to talk to you. It’s about uh….her.”

The way she said your name made his heart race, an instinctual dread creeping in. “What about her?” he asked, his voice tightening. It has been years. Years since he’s heard your name. Years since that feeling of the sea wallowed its way into his heart. You. The very thought of you was spring, endless spring. “What happened?”

Another pause. “She… she passed away.”

The words hit him like a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs. “What?” he managed to stammer, disbelief flooding his mind. “What do you mean, passed away?”

“She had an accident. It was sudden. I’m so sorry, Toji.”

He felt the world tilt on its axis, the room around him blurring as the shock set in. “No, no, that can’t be right.” he said, shaking his head as if the motion could change the reality. “When? How?”

“We don’t have all the details about it yet.” she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. “But I thought you should know. She had some friends over… and then it happened, after they all left. There’s suspicion that it was an accidental drug overdose, medication. Um, but we’re not sure if that’s true. Because…she’d tell us, if she was sick.”

The words began to sink in, but they felt surreal, detached from reality. How could this be happening? You had once been a part of his life, and now… now you were gone. The memories surged back—your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about music, the softness in your voice when you told him you were leaving.

“I… I need to go.” he said, his voice shaking. “I need to be there.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, concern echoing in her tone. “Toji, breathe.”

But Toji couldn’t respond. He ended the call, the weight of what he had just heard pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He stared at the wall, his thoughts racing, heart pounding. Everything he had built, the life he had created, suddenly felt meaningless in the face of this loss. All shattered. Both the past, the present and future — all at once, dying.

He stood up, feeling unsteady, as if the ground beneath him had vanished. The world outside his office window looked the same, but everything felt different—bleak, muted, and empty.

Without thinking, he grabbed his jacket and left the office, his mind a whirlpool of memories and emotions. He could hardly focus on the road as he drove, the city blurring past him. All he could think about was you—what you had meant to him, the moments they shared, the unfinished conversations that hung in the air.

When he finally arrived at the location your friend sent, everything about the scene was somber, filled with familiar faces that had once been part of your life. He made his way through the gathering, his heart heavy in his chest. He saw your friends, their faces drawn with grief, and the realization hit him like a wave: you were really gone.

Zenin Toji found a quiet corner, his back pressed against a wall, as the reality settled in. The laughter and joy he had learned to embrace felt like a betrayal now. You should have been here, sharing these moments, navigating life together, just as you once had.

As he stood there, memories flooded back—moments of joy, of connection, of love. And in that instant, he understood that he would always carry a part of you with him, a lingering ache that would never truly fade.

The world moved on around him, but Toji felt frozen in place, grappling with the loss of someone who had shaped him in ways he had never acknowledged until now. And in that moment, he knew that no matter how much time passed, he would never forget you.

Toji stood at the edge of the gathering, the atmosphere heavy with sorrow and disbelief. The small chapel was filled with familiar faces, all of them grieving the loss of you, and he felt an ache deep in his chest as he took in the scene. Your family stood near the front, your mother clutching a bouquet of flowers, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Your father stood beside her, a stoic figure trying to hold it all together.

As the service progressed, Toji’s gaze wandered, and he noticed a young boy standing close to your mother. The child couldn’t have been more than five or six, his small frame almost dwarfed by the adults around him. He had dark tousled hair and bright, green – blue eyes echoing with curiosity that seemed to scan the room, searching for something—or someone.

Toji’s heart dropped as he took a closer look. The boy had a striking resemblance to him. It was subtle but unmistakable—the shape of his face, the curve of his lips, and the way he tilted his head when he looked around. The realization hit him hard, like a punch to the gut.

Just then, the boy moved toward your casket, his tiny hands reaching out to touch the smooth wood. As though he wanted to stroke your face with the warmth of a thousand suns. Toji felt a surge of instinct, wanting to protect the child from this pain, but before he could react, a white-haired man stepped in. With an air of calm authority, he gently scooped the boy into his arms, pulling him away from the somber sight.

Toji’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized the man—Gojo Satoru, a familiar figure from your past. He was your friend in college too. Protege, in the science department. He was a chief mourner today. The very presence of him felt like a ghost, both comforting and painful. He had always known Gojo Satoru to be a charismatic enigma, with his goofy smile and unserious eyes. But now his demeanor was serious, focused on the child in his arms.

“Hey, little guy.” Gojo said softly, kneeling down to the boy's level, his voice a soothing balm against the surrounding grief. “Let’s give her some space, okay?”

The boy looked up at Gojo, confusion etched on his young face. “But I want to say goodbye to my mama.” he said, his voice small and tremulous.

Toji felt his heart clench. Who was this child? Why did he look so much like him? Was he really…?

“Let’s remember her in a different way.” Gojo suggested gently, still holding the boy close. “We can share stories about how amazing she was, okay?”

The child seemed to consider this, his brows furrowing in thought. Toji felt an urge to move closer, to find out everything he could about this boy, but he was rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away.

As Gojo began to lead the boy away from the casket, the child turned back one last time, his wide eyes filled with innocence and sorrow. “I miss her already. I miss my mama already.” he whispered, and Toji’s heart shattered at the sound of those words.

He watched as Gojo knelt down again, whispering something in the boy’s ear. Whatever it was, it made the child’s face light up with a fleeting smile, and for a moment, Toji felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps this boy could carry on a part of you—your spirit, your laughter, your love.

But the reality of the situation crashed over him once more. You were gone, and this child, whom he instinctively felt a connection to, was a reminder of everything that had been lost.

Toji took a step forward, the urge to reach out to the boy overwhelming him. He had to know. “Excuse me.” he said, his voice cutting through the murmur of the gathering, his eyes locked on Gojo and the boy. “Who is he?”

Gojo looked up, surprise flickering in his gaze before a knowing look settled in. “This is your son, Toji,” he said gently. “He’s her child. Your child.”

The words hung in the air like a weight, and Toji felt the ground shift beneath him. He had a son? The realization was like a tidal wave crashing over him, overwhelming and disorienting. All the moments he had missed, the life he hadn’t known he had—everything rushed to the surface, leaving him gasping for breath.

“I didn’t know….I….” he murmured, the words barely escaping his lips. “I didn’t know I had a son…”

Gojo nodded, his expression softening. “She wanted to tell you, but things got complicated. She loved you, Toji. She always did.”

The ache in Toji’s chest deepened, a mixture of regret and longing flooding through him. He wanted to reach out to the boy, to embrace him and promise to be there, to make up for all the lost time. But he felt frozen, unsure of how to bridge this sudden chasm between them.

The boy turned to look at him, his innocent eyes searching, and in that moment, Toji knew he couldn’t turn away. He took a step forward, his heart pounding, ready to face the truth of his past and embrace the future, whatever it might hold.

Toji took a deep breath, his mind racing as he processed the weight of everything Gojo had just revealed. “Who are you, exactly? To her.” he asked, his voice steadier than he felt. “Why are you here with him?”

Gojo regarded him with a measured gaze, a mix of understanding and sympathy etched across his features. “I’m Satoru Gojo, her ex.” he began, his tone calm yet heavy with unspoken history. “We had our time together, but she broke up with me to focus on raising him—Megumi.” He paused, his expression shifting slightly, as if weighing his next words. “But… I helped out when she started to suffer from her illness. We…we  also worked together.”

The revelation hit Toji like a punch to the gut. It was hard to hear that you had suffered, and he couldn’t fathom how you had faced such a struggle. You have always been so vibrant, so full of life. The image of you laughing by the sea, dreaming about the future, felt so far removed from the harsh reality of illness. How could this happen? How could you be dead? The thought churned in his stomach, leaving him feeling hollow and lost.

He felt a wave of panic and disbelief. You had been taken away from your son. From Toji. It was like that again—just when he had thought he was on the cusp of something beautiful and real, everything crumbled. You had left him once more, not by choice this time, but by fate’s cruel hand.

“Why didn’t I know?” Toji’s voice was barely a whisper, laced with frustration and sorrow. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Gojo’s eyes softened with empathy. “She wanted to protect you, Toji. You had a life too. She thought that by keeping her distance, she could spare you the pain. She didn’t want you to feel trapped by her son and her illness. It was incurable, all there could be was maintenance. So…she thought it would be better to leave before the damage was done.”

Trapped. The word stung. He had always wanted to be there for you, to share the burdens and the joys. “But I would have wanted to be a part of it, for bitter or worse.” he replied, his voice trembling. “I could have helped. I could have been there for both of you.”

Gojo nodded, understanding the turmoil in Toji’s heart. “She knew that, but she was scared—scared of what her illness would do to you and to Megumi. She wanted to give him a chance at a life free from that burden. It was a hard choice, but she thought it was the right one.”

The realization crashed over Toji like a wave. You had made that decision alone, believing it was the best thing for your son. And now, that choice has cost you your life. Anguish twisted inside him, and he felt a growing anger not towards you, but towards the circumstances that had taken you away.

How could it be fair? How could the universe allow such a beautiful spirit to slip away while leaving behind a child who would now grow up without knowing his mother?

Toji felt as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. The name hit him like a jolt, reverberating through him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. “Megumi.” he repeated softly, the sound wrapping around his heart like a lifeline. 

It was the name you had once discussed with such warmth and hope while watching the waves crash against the shore, dreaming of what could be if you ever started a family together. The memory came flooding back—the laughter, the carefree joy of that day, and the vivid images of a future that felt so tangible then.

“Yeah, she loved that name.” Toji murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I did too.”

He struggled to hold back tears, remembering how your eyes sparkled when you spoke about having a family, the way you imagined little Megumi running along the beach, chasing after waves with unabashed joy. That dream had felt so real, and now it felt like a cruel joke, a glimpse of what might have been.

Gojo nodded, his gaze steady. “She was a great mom, Toji. Megumi was her whole world. She did everything she could to raise him right, even when things got tough.”

The weight of those words settled heavily on Toji’s heart. “What happened to her?” he asked, his voice trembling. He needed to know; he had to understand how it had come to this.

“Heart disease.” Gojo replied, a shadow of sadness crossing his face. “Giving birth to Megumi made it worse, but she…she thinks Megumi was the best thing in her life. Her treasure in the sea, she calls him.”

Gojo’s words hung heavy in the air, the weight of them settling deep in Toji’s chest. He could feel the slow, painful collapse of his heart as the reality of the situation set in. The woman he once cared for, the mother of his son, had been struggling in silence all this time, carrying the burden of her illness alone while he lived his life, unaware. The thought gnawed at him, twisting the guilt deeper into his soul.

“She never regretted it,” Gojo continued, his voice steady but soft. “She said you had a good life. And she did too, despite everything. She wanted to make sure Megumi had the best, and she gave him all the love she could.”

Toji clenched his jaw, fighting against the flood of emotions surging inside him. Anger, sorrow, regret—it all mixed together into a tight knot in his chest. He felt sick with it, sick with the thought that while he was out there, living his life without a care, she had been suffering. And she hadn’t reached out to him. Hadn’t told him how bad things were. She’d shouldered it all on her own.

“But why didn’t she reach out to me?” Toji’s voice trembled, his words barely above a whisper. He needed to know. He needed to understand why she’d kept him in the dark. “I could’ve helped… I would’ve done something. Anything.”

Gojo’s gaze softened, sympathy shining in his eyes. “She didn’t want to burden you. That’s what she always said. You had your own life, your own path. She didn’t want you to feel tied down by everything she was going through.”

Toji’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. He wanted to scream, to curse the universe for being so cruel. How could she have thought he wouldn’t want to help? How could she have carried that weight alone?

Gojo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression solemn. “She never saw it as a sacrifice, Toji. In her eyes, you both lived your lives as you were meant to. She loved Megumi with everything she had, and she believed she made the right choice by not involving you. It was her way of protecting you, even if it meant doing it on her own.”

“To protect me?” Toji muttered bitterly, his chest tightening even more. The thought of her enduring so much pain while thinking she was doing it for his sake felt unbearable. “But it wasn’t just about me. I had a right to know… Megumi’s my son, too. I should’ve been there for him. For her.”

“I know,” Gojo said quietly, his tone gentle but firm. “But in her mind, this was the best way. She wanted you to live your life freely. No regrets, no guilt. And in the end, she did what she thought was best for Megumi.”

Toji’s heart ached at those words. The image of her, alone with Megumi, doing her best to raise him while struggling with an illness that had only worsened over the years—it was too much to bear. He couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness that clung to him, the overwhelming regret of not knowing, not being there when they needed him most.

“She called him her treasure in the sea,” Gojo added softly. “He was her everything.”

Toji swallowed hard, his throat tight. “And now what?” he asked, his voice strained. “What happens to Megumi now?”

Gojo’s gaze was steady, full of understanding. “Now, it’s your turn, Toji. Megumi needs you. You might not have been there before, but you can be there now.”

The gravity of Gojo’s words hit him like a tidal wave. Megumi was his responsibility now. His son. And no matter how much he regretted the past, he couldn’t change it. All he could do was move forward and be the father Megumi needed.

Toji’s heart felt heavy, but amidst the pain and regret, a flicker of resolve began to grow. He couldn’t undo what had happened, but he wouldn’t let his son down. Not again.

“I’ll be there for him. I….I will be there, just like she was.” Toji whispered, more to himself than to Gojo. “I won’t let him go through this alone.”

Gojo nodded, his expression softening. “That’s all she ever wanted.”

“Megumi….I….” Toji whispered, a smile breaking through the haze of grief. “I never knew…” His voice trailed off, choked with emotion.

Gojo watched him intently, gauging his reaction. “You can get to know him, Toji. You can be part of his life if you want. He deserves to know his father.”

Toji felt a rush of determination mixed with fear. “I want to be there for him. I want to be part of his life,” he said, his voice firm. “But how do I do that? How do I even begin?”

Gojo stepped back, giving Toji space while still keeping Megumi close. “You take it one step at a time. Start by introducing yourself. He needs to see that you care.”

Toji looked at Megumi, who was now watching him with wide, innocent eyes, curiosity mixing with uncertainty. It felt surreal, being in this moment—a chance to connect with the child he never knew existed.

“Hey, Megumi.” he said softly, kneeling down to the boy’s level. “I’m Toji. I’m your… father.”

The boy’s gaze flickered between Gojo and Toji, processing the words. “Father?” he echoed, his voice small and hesitant.

“Yeah.” Toji said, his heart racing. “I didn’t know about you until today, but I promise I want to be here for you. I want to know you.”

Megumi’s expression shifted, uncertainty still lingering, but there was a flicker of something else—hope? Curiosity? Toji couldn’t tell, but he felt compelled to keep talking. “Your mom and I talked about you once, you know. We dreamed about what it would be like to have a family. We even picked your name together.”

At the mention of your name, Megumi’s eyes brightened a little. “Mom loved me?” he asked, his voice small but filled with longing.

Toji nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “More than anything. She thought you were the most special person in the world.”

Gojo watched the exchange, a subtle smile of encouragement on his face, and for the first time, Toji felt a sense of connection to this boy. A connection that reached beyond the pain and the past, into a future that was now possible.

“Can we talk about her?” Megumi asked, his small voice filled with the innocence of a child who wanted to keep your memory alive.

“Of course.” Toji replied, his heart swelling with affection. “We can talk about her all day. She was amazing, Megumi. And I want to share all the stories with you.”

As they stood there, the weight of loss began to shift, creating space for something new—a tentative bond that could grow into something meaningful. Toji knew it would take time, but he felt a flicker of hope ignite within him.

“I’m here now.” Toji said, looking deep into Megumi’s eyes. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

EVERYTHING HAD BEEN A WHIRLWIND.  Fushiguro Toji’s life changed in ways he never anticipated. The news of your passing was like a shockwave, reshaping his world overnight. He left his family. He broke up with his girlfriend. He changed his last name to match yours and Megumi, after he had asked your parents. He needed to focus on raising Megumi. Like you would have wanted. Like it should have been. 

Taking on the responsibility of being Megumi’s father was daunting. Every day brought new challenges and revelations. Toji found himself learning how to care for a child, adjusting to late-night feedings and school projects, and discovering the joy of small victories—like Megumi’s laughter during playtime or the pride in his eyes when he accomplished something new. 

Yet, amid the routine of parenting, there was a void that lingered deep within him. He wasn’t over you. He never had been. Memories of you flooded his mind—your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about the future, the dreams you had shared together. It felt like a cruel twist of fate that he now held the title of father while grappling with the reality that you were gone.

Every time he looked at Megumi, he saw pieces of you—the way he scrunched his nose when he concentrated, the softness of his smile, and the kindness in his heart. Toji often found himself reminiscing about those conversations you had on the beach, envisioning the life you had both dreamed of. It hurt to think of the family that could have been, the moments that would never materialize.

Despite the pain, he pushed forward. For Megumi’s sake, he channeled his grief into being the best father he could be. He read parenting books, reached out for advice, and did his best to create a stable home filled with warmth and love. He wanted Megumi to feel secure, to know that he was cherished and valued. 

But as the days turned into weeks and then months, the ache of your absence remained a constant companion. Toji would often catch himself staring out at the ocean, remembering the life you envisioned together, and it struck him anew how unfair it all felt. You had left too soon, and now he was left to navigate the complexities of fatherhood alone, always carrying a piece of your heart with him.

The sea stretched out before them, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore filling the air with a soothing melody. Toji stood at the edge of the water, the salty breeze brushing through his hair as he watched Megumi run ahead, his small figure framed against the vast expanse of the ocean. The boy’s quiet demeanor softened in the presence of the sea, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he bent down to pick up a shell, the sunlight catching in his dark hair.

Toji’s heart tightened as he watched him, an unexpected flood of emotions surging through him. This was your place—the sea. You had always talked about how peaceful it made you feel, how the endless horizon made everything seem possible. He remembered the times you’d come here together, how you’d sit by the water, your laughter carried away by the wind. And now, here he was, with your son—his son—standing in the same place you had once loved.

He raised the camera in his hands, snapping a picture of Megumi as the boy turned toward him, holding up the shell in his hand as if to show it to him. Toji couldn’t help but smile, his heart swelling with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. There was something about Megumi in this moment, something in his quiet curiosity, the way his eyes softened as he gazed at the sea, that reminded him so much of you.

It hit him like a wave—how much of you lived in Megumi. Not just in his looks, but in his spirit. The calm, quiet strength, the way he approached the world with a sense of wonder, but always with his guard up. You had given Megumi more than just life; you had given him a piece of your heart, a piece of the love you had carried for both of them.

Toji took another picture, capturing the way the light danced across Megumi’s face, the way the sea reflected in his eyes. And for a moment, he could see you—standing there beside him, your laughter mingling with the sound of the waves, your hand resting gently on his shoulder.

He lowered the camera, his gaze softening as he watched Megumi return to the water’s edge. He was beginning to understand now, the words you had left behind, the meaning of what you had called Megumi—your treasure in the sea. It wasn’t just about the boy himself, but what he represented. The love you had for him, the love you had for Toji, even if life had taken you down separate paths.

Megumi was that love. He was the bridge between you and Toji, the one thing that connected them both, even after you were gone.

Toji closed his eyes, taking in the sound of the sea, letting it wash over him. For so long, he had been angry, filled with regret for not being there when you needed him most. But now, standing here with Megumi, he realized that you hadn’t left him behind. You had left him something more precious than anything else—the love you shared, alive in your son.

As Megumi looked back at him, the shell still in his hand, Toji smiled. He walked toward him, crouching down to meet the boy’s gaze.

“You know,” Toji said, his voice soft, “your mom used to say you were her treasure in the sea.”

Megumi blinked, tilting his head slightly. “What does that mean?”

Toji reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Megumi’s face. “It means she loved you more than anything. She saw something special in you, something worth holding onto. And she was right.”

Megumi looked down at the shell in his hand, turning it over thoughtfully. “Do you miss her?”

Toji’s chest tightened, the familiar ache of loss rising to the surface. But for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel so overwhelming. He glanced back at the sea, the horizon stretching out endlessly, just like the love that still connected them.

“Yeah,” Toji admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I do. But you know what? I see her in you. Every day.”

Megumi’s eyes widened slightly, and he gave a small nod, as if trying to absorb the weight of his father’s words. They stood there in silence for a moment, the gentle sound of the waves filling the space between them. Toji pulled out the camera once more, capturing one last picture—Megumi standing at the shore, his small frame against the endless sea, the shell still clutched in his hand.

At that moment, Toji understood. Megumi was not just your treasure; he was your treasure. The love that both of you had poured into him, the love that endured, even when everything else had changed.

And now, standing beside his son, Fushiguro Toji felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The peace only you could give him.

[neytirisheaven]

i can’t lose when i’m with you

warnings: you know the drill: no use of y/n, strong language, sirius calls reader “darling/my darling”, reader is a gryffindor, reader almost gets attacked by remus, slightly suggestive near the end, ooc peter (NO YOUNG PETER SLANDER), a few smoochies at the end, this is barely proofread so i apologize for any mistakes

sirius black x fem!reader word count: 6.5k

summary: in which sirius struggles to ask you out on a date, so the marauders assist him in his goal, aka the 4 times sirius black tries to ask you out and the 1 time he succeeds

notes: so…….. let’s not talk about the fact that i posted this so fucking late and let’s talk about the fact that it’s sirius black…..!! anyways so this is probably not cohesive and there are probably a lot of plotholes and inconsistencies in here but i was STRUGGLING to write this okay, like i would write 700 words and then dip because i literally couldn’t pull anything else out of my ass

LUCKILY, OUT OF the seven years you’ve spent at Hogwarts, you’ve never been so much as looked at by the infamous Marauders. Sure, they messed around with your friends, and you’ve attended their rambunctious parties after a Quidditch win, but you were fortunate enough to not be bothered by them. 

That was, until the one and only Sirius Black laid his eyes on you. 

You had vowed to never even come close to fraternizing with a Marauder—besides the occasional conversations with Remus—let alone fall into their trap of tricks with their corny pickup lines and their woo-worthy smiles. 

And you were going to stand by that vow. No matter what. Or so you thought.

i. i’d touch that fire for you

It all started when you were peacefully sitting at your regular table in the Great Hall, talking to your friends about the newest gossip about a few of the prefects in the year below you. You prodded at the slice of your pumpkin pie, not too interested in the food as you were in the drama that seemed to be unfolding before your eyes.

But, to your demise, your gossip was cut short by a loud declaration of your name—wait, your name? No, this had to have been a joke. Right?

You slowly turned around in your seat to find Sirius Black standing right behind you, a bouquet of flowers magically appearing in his hands as soon as you locked eyes with him. He tossed his luscious hair over his shoulder and beamed brightly at you, gaining a few coos from the girls sitting around you. 

“My darling,” he began, “it would be an absolute honor if you would allow me to take you out on a date to Hogsmeade next Saturday. Would you fancy a trip down there with me?” It was probably the fanciest he had spoken since he had dinner with his whole extended family, and he could’ve only hoped that he could woo you over and finally gain your affections.

You, on the other hand, were not willing to fall for what was obviously supposed to be a prank. Why the four pranksters had chosen you, of all people, to be the butt of this prank, you would never know, but it didn’t mean you were to act clueless about it the whole time. 

“Go find someone else to prank, Black,” you muttered under your breath, sending your friends a confused look as you turned back to them. Only a few moments later, you felt the gentle tap of someone’s finger on your shoulder, causing you to turn around once more and look at the same boy that had now turned the bouquet into a three-tiered cake in a matter of seconds. You repeated yourself once more, “I’m not interested in your little jokes. It’s not something I look for in a person. But good job for trying.” You sent him a pitiful smile and returned to your conversation with your friends almost immediately, as if you were desperate to get out of the situation you found yourself in. You were desperate.

Sirius’ face fell as soon as you turned around, finally understanding that you were serious about everything you said. He just assumed you were playing hard to get. He didn’t think you saw it as some prank he was trying to play on you.

His dejected eyes met James’ soft, brown ones, only encouraging him to go even more all out compared to what he just did. It wasn’t the best idea, and both Remus and Peter could see it, but when Sirius was as enamored with someone as he was with you, it meant he was serious. Pun intended.

The raven-haired boy practically skipped over to his friends, James transfiguring the layered cake back into Remus’ water goblet and placing it in front of his friend. “We thank you for your sacrifice,” he spoke with no humor laced in his tone, causing the brunet to scrunch his nose up and return to the Muggle book he was currently reading; The Hobbit.

Sirius’s gaze flickered to the thick book in his friend’s hands, then shot up as if a bolt of lightning had struck him. “That’s perfect, Moony! My darling loves reading Muggle books! I’ve seen her with them in the library many times,” the boy exclaimed excitedly, bouncing around like a kid in a candy store.

“You go to the library? Willingly?” Peter questioned with his mouth full, earning a chastising smack to the back of his head.

Remus spoke up, “He’s trying to get her attention. We’ve got to give him some credit for that.”

“Thank you,” Sirius thanked the boy through gritted teeth, a bit peeved that one of his best friends had no faith in him. They had known of his crush on you for all of two months, and in all of his experiences with girls during his time at Hogwarts, he’d never been prepared for a feeling like the one you gave him. “Anyway, since you’re so invested in all your Muggle books, d’you think you could grab me one on your next visit to the Muggle bookstore?”

The three boys tried their hardest to look past Sirius’ flushed, pink cheeks as he requested a simple yet slightly embarrassing task. Peter and James shot each other a look before the latter leaned over the table with some brotherly advice hanging off the tip of his tongue.

“Just don’t be too annoying about it, Pads. You don’t have seven years for it to get less annoying like I had with Lily. Just, y’know, charm your way through it like you always do. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

ii. long as you dreaming ‘bout me, ain’t no problem

The atmosphere of the Quidditch stadium was always tense, especially whenever it came time for Gryffindor to play against Slytherin. The stands were full of students boasting their house colors, strictly separated into hues of greens and reds. Linus Spinnett animatedly narrated the gameplay, throwing in a few jabs at the Slytherin players here and there. 

You watched as James and Sirius sped past you, side-by-side, unable to avoid their gazes. The latter called out your name, but you only ignored him and hid the bottom half of your face behind the scarf wrapped around your neck. He took a sharp turn and began spinning in small circles right in front of you in an attempt to get your attention, but you remained unbothered.

“Don’t you have better things to tend to, Sirius?” Your friend groaned from beside you, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders as she tried to shoo him away. “Go win the game, and maybe she’ll talk to you.” 

Planting a chastising hand on your friend’s bicep, you whispered through gritted teeth, “Don’t encourage him! He’ll have the wrong idea.” Before you could even turn to Sirius to correct your friend’s statement, he already flew away with a dopey grin plastered on his face. It only motivated him more throughout the game, the quaffle landing in his arms more than anyone has seen before. Even James was surprised. 

“Pads, what’s with you?” The Potter boy muttered, inching closer to his best friend. His eyes were trained on the bludgers being beaten around, but his complete focus was on his friend and his out-of-character actions. “I appreciate the need to win, but mate, don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?”

Sirius took the time to look around at the stadium, his eyes landing on the three Slytherins clutching their arms, then at the scoreboard that showed Gryffindor leading by thirty-five points. “I’m being perfectly normal, Prongs. Thought you’d want to win.”

“I do, but–” James’ rebuttal was cut off by the sound of Linus’ voice echoing through the stadium, rejoicing in the Gryffindor seeker’s successful accomplishment.

“Berthia Thomas has caught the golden snitch! Gryffindor wins the game!” 

Sirius’ ears perked up at the exclamation, immediately soaring down to the young seeker and not-so-gently taking the snitch out of her hands. “Do you mind if I take this? No? Great, thanks!” The ends of his Quidditch robes chased closely behind him as he flew all the way up to the stands, meeting you with a smug grin. The golden, engraved ball sat peacefully in his hand, its wings flapping softly against his palm. “For you, my darling,” he smiled at you, offering the snitch like an olive branch in a peace offering.

You eyed the small object in his hand, then glanced up at the scoreboard with the teams’ respective points: Gryffindor, 220 and Slytherin, 70. With a heavy heart and a sharp glare at your friend beside you, you reluctantly took the golden snitch from his hand and held it between your thumb and your forefinger. 

Sirius felt a shiver climb down his spine at the feeling of your soft fingertips brushing against his calloused palm. Even the slightest touch between the two of you could make him melt. 

“Thank you, Black.” Your voice was almost as soft as your touch. Offering him a small smile, you ushered your friend away from the front row and pushed past the crowd that was now gawking at the supposedly sweet actions of the infamous Sirius Black.

But you didn’t want to fall for it. Everyone who attended Hogwarts, even the clueless first years, knew about them. Everyone who attended Hogwarts had either witnessed, experienced, or heard of their silly little pranks, and you were not one to be fooled so easily by them. 

With a fleeting glance, you looked back over your shoulder to see the boy’s figure slumped over the end of his broomstick, sadly looking down at the area of his palm where your fingers so happened to touch.

iii. i don’t got nobody, just with you right now

“Oh, come on! He’s practically courting you at this point! Just let him confess to you, and maybe you’ll see that he’s not trying to pull some elaborate prank on you!” Your friend lectured in the safe space of your dorm room, tugging on the collar of your sweater to try and knock some sense into you. 

You protested her points, “You say that as if he isn’t known for leading girls on and breaking their hearts. I don’t want to be another girl for him to add onto his list.”

“James has matured, look at him and Lily! I’m sure if you give him the chance–” “Have you seen him? Potter may have matured, but I’m not too confident in Sirius. He has to do more than just offer me a golden snitch or flowers or a three-tiered cake. Physical offerings do nothing to rid him of the reputation he’s been building for himself since first year. If he’s serious about fancying me, then he has to do something meaningful.” 

Before your friend could refute you any further, you looked at her with a heavy gaze to effectively quiet her. The two of you returned to the light gossip you were talking about prior to bringing up Sirius Black, and a few hours later, you both agreed to part ways so you could find a comfy spot in the library to study.

She dropped you off at the entrance on the way to her rendezvous with a Ravenclaw boy in your year, bidding you a curt goodbye before breaking out into what could be considered a skip through the long hallways of the castle.

You pushed through the doors and felt solace in the smell of the books and the soft rustling of students passing between the aisles. The librarian promptly gazed at you and offered a nod, to which you returned with a small smile. 

Gazing up at the tall shelves of books, you thought to yourself and began trying to think of which books you required for a successful study session for the evening. Your feet seemed to be leading you to the very back of the library, where you noticed the smallest flicker of yellow light behind a multitude of bookshelves. As you inched closer, your ears picked up the softest whispers being passed between what seemed to be two people.

You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering who could possibly study back here, where the bookshelves are impossibly closer to each other and leave no room for a singular person in the aisle, let alone two people to comfortably study. Grabbing a book off a random shelf to incriminate yourself less in case it was two students chatting about something not meant for curious ears, you pushed past the last row of books to find—

Sirius and Remus? In a rather spacious area, might you add. 

They sat at a table placed flush against the wall, a small candle being the only source of light besides the sunlight from the windows that barely reached the back of the library. It was a comfortable spot, albeit the many efforts it took to get past all the tight bookshelves. They hadn’t even noticed you at first, too engrossed in a piece of parchment they had placed onto the table. 

The two boys only noticed you when James had joined in, your eyes bulging out of their sockets when you watched him walk through a bookshelf. Well, it was supposed to be a bookshelf. You weren’t surprised that he had seemingly walked through a solid object, no. You’d done that plenty of times whenever you boarded or left Platform 9 ¾ throughout the years. You were left rather bitter that you put in all the effort to squeeze through all the stacks when you could’ve just walked through the bookshelf. Not that you would’ve known, though.

You looked up when James called your name. Sirius and Remus did, too. “When did you get in here? I would’ve noticed if you walked in,” the curly-haired boy frowned. 

“I, uh, wedged myself through those bookshelves. Didn’t know there was an actual entrance.” You jutted a thumb over your shoulder and pointed to the very compressed bookshelves. Feeling quite awkward in your current position, with James frowning at you (or more specifically, how you got in), Remus smiling softly at you, and Sirius staring at you, you shuffled closer to the exit. “I’ll see myself out, now. Sorry. I won’t tell anyone about this, either, if you’re worried about that.”

As soon as you stepped foot past the fake bookshelf, you heard Sirius whisper-shouting at James to bring you back into the secret space. 

“Wait!” He called out for you louder than he should have, quite possibly alarming the whole library of their whereabouts. With pursed lips, you swiveled on your heel and walked back through the bookshelf, shooting James a questioning look. “So, uh,” he repeatedly looked at you, then behind you, then at you again, “you said you went between those small gaps in the bookshelves?”

You nodded your head, unaware of how Sirius was urging the boy to keep the conversation going while Remus struggled to fish something out of his bag.

“We’ll have to seal that, then.” James spoke more to himself than to you.

Glancing over to the gaps, you spoke up once more. “And just so you know, the only reason I came back here was because I could hear Remus and Sirius whispering. You might want to look into that since you yelled rather loudly. Don’t want anyone else coming back here, do you?”

At your revelation, James immediately turned to his two friends with his eyes blown wide. You then heard a whispered chorus of “You didn’t cast it? I thought you did! Well, I didn’t cast it!” and before they could say much more, you lifted your wand and silently casted Muffliato around the whole area. 

Sirius looked at you with more admiration in his eyes than ever before. He was practically looking at you with heart eyes, as if you were all the stars in the world joined together into one girl. 

“Also, those gaps are wide enough to be peeked through. You might want to seal it up or put some charm on it so that no prying eyes look through.” The bell of the clock tower rang and bounced around the castle walls, almost as if cueing you to leave. “Well, that’s where I take my leave. And I stick by what I said earlier. I won’t speak a word of this.”

Finally leaving, you walked through the exit and shuffled through the aisle, only to be caught by the wrist. You looked over your shoulder to find Sirius smiling cheekily at you, holding a book in his hands. You turned around, a bit uncomfortable at how your arms harshly grazed at the wood of the bookshelves on either side of you. They were much more spacious compared to the shelves on the other side, but it still left little room for two people to be standing together.

He held the book up to you, allowing you to read the cover. “I bought this for you. I know you’ve been wanting it for a while,” he offered, gently putting it in your hands. “I also wanted to let you know that I didn’t conjure it up or anything. I bought it with my own money and all. If that means anything to you.” Bringing a hand up to his nape, he shyly rubbed at it as he watched your eyes dart from the book to his face.

Your mind was running at unfathomable speeds, trying to figure out how Sirius Black, of all people, found out how you wanted that specific book. You only told two people about it, and you and Lily had only spoken about it today in the confines of your N.E.W.T.-level Potions and Arithmancy classes, neither of which you shared with any of the Marauders. It wouldn’t have been enough time for Sirius to go out and buy it himself, if you were to trust his word on it.

That only left—Remus. You were quietly discussing it in Transfiguration while Professor McGonagall was helping a struggling student. The both of you had already completed the task as soon as she assigned it, so you turned to each other and talked about your shared love for Muggle books. Merlin, you felt so stupid. You thought he would respect your wishes of not wanting to be bothered by Sirius, but apparently not. “Remus,” you whispered lowly, quiet enough for the boy standing before you to barely hear what you said.

“What?” Sirius’ face flushed. “No, no. Moon—Remus didn’t have anything to do with it. Well, not really. But I bought this because I overheard you telling him about it in Transfiguration last week.” 

You brushed away the odd nickname for Remus and visibly relaxed, hesitantly hugging the book to your chest. “I see. Well, in that case, I’ll use this book well. Thank you, Sirius.” Turning around and walking away, you spared no time exiting the library with the book in your hands, leaving the raven-haired boy to celebrate. 

You had accepted his gift and called him by his first name! Two wins in a row!

iv. how can i snooze and miss the moment?

Surprisingly, Sirius had left you alone for the past three days. You hadn’t seen a day without him at least trying to court you, but for some reason, it was as if he’d turned into a ghost. It wasn’t like you minded, but it felt odd. Unnatural, even. 

When it came nighttime, and you’d officially been left alone for three whole days, you decided to take a walk down to the Black Lake. You wanted to be left alone with your thoughts, the cool breeze of wintertime nearing, and the glimmering light of the full moon. The sound of a wolf howling flew past your ears, but you paid it no mind as you knew you were safe. There was no such thing as a werewolf on school grounds, it was impossible. You’ve had some suspicions in the past, but they can’t have been true.

Your hands plucked at the blades of grass beneath you, feeling the lush plant life beneath you. You had found a spot against a tree facing the lake and watched peacefully as the ripples of the water distorted the mirrored image of the moon and the trees around it. 

Twigs snapped behind you, and your right hand flew to your coat pocket where your wand lie, but you were just taking precautions. It was probably just some other student wandering around after curfew, too. Everything would be just fine. 

After half an hour of thinking to yourself, the sounds of the nature around you were becoming more stressful than relaxing. With a cautious step to the side and a meek glance past the thick tree trunk, you slowly made your way away from the Black Lake and towards the castle. 

The faded footpath beneath you had turned into a muddy walkway long before you began attending Hogwarts, but it still felt unsettling. The canopy of the tall trees blocked the moonlight shining down on you, and their rustling leaves became ominous rather than peaceful. 

Your hand remained snug in your coat pocket, feeling the wood of your wand against your palm. The howling wolf that was once far, far away now sounded impossibly close to you, and the multiple twigs snapping all around you caused you to grip your wand even tighter. “Hello? Is anybody there?”

No response. More twigs snapped. The ground beneath you began to shake.

“Hello? This isn’t funny! If this is supposed to be a prank, then cut it out!”

Still no response. 

And then, out of nowhere, an earth-shattering growl echoed from right behind you. You turned slowly, pulling your wand out of your pocket in a fearful manner. Coming face-to-face with a werewolf, you realized all your reassurances of it being impossible were wrong. And you were about to die.

Pointing your wand at the creature, you looked into its eyes. They seemed familiar. Comforting, even. But this was a werewolf, and they were monstrous creatures, according to your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. You took a small breath and shakily held your wand up.

Just before you could cast a spell in its face, you got pushed to the side. You fell back against a tree with a wince, watching as a stag headbutted the werewolf in the chest with its antlers. “What the—” Your words were cut short by the feeling of something harshly tugging at the hem of your coat, successfully dragging you away from the scene. A yelp left your lips, your fingertips clawing at the ground in an attempt to escape whatever wrath you were facing now.

Looking down, you found a black dog pulling you by its sharp teeth, its eyes boring into you like you’d known each other before. You stopped trying to escape. You just let everything happen as you stared back down at the dog. ‘What was so familiar about these animals,’ you asked yourself, unaware of the werewolf bounding after you. 

It had gotten past the stag, which was nowhere to be seen. You assumed you were going delusional. The werewolf, still familiar as ever, picked you up and growled, your wand now in your hand as you prepared to cast as many offensive spells as you could. Incantations left your mouth as quickly as you’ve ever casted before, but they did nothing to stop your impending doom. 

The most you did was a large gash along the creature’s arm, but the injury only aggravated it more. Lifting you up as high as it could, the werewolf threw you to the ground as you braced for impact, feeling your body hit the ground just before you blacked out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in one of the infirmary beds with Madame Pomfrey tending to your injuries. Your collarbone was shattered, and you received a few cuts on your cheek, but it was nothing the lady couldn’t fix. You were only in the infirmary for observations and precautions. 

As soon as she stepped away, you were met with the embarrassed smiles of James, Sirius and Remus all on infirmary beds opposite of you. “Wha—why are you three here?” You questioned suspiciously, examining each of their injuries for ones similar to the wounds you saw on the creatures the night prior.

James had bandages wrapped around his ribcage and an ice pack on his head. Sirius had multiple gashes along his side and a cast on his left hand. Remus had the most wounds of them all: a large scratch along his cheek, a deep cut on the side of his head, a bandage wrapped around both his forearms, a cast on his right foot, and a gash on his bicep.

Wait, a gash on his bicep?

“It was you, wasn’t it?” You spoke quietly, finally realizing why Remus always disappeared whenever it came time for a full moon and why James and Sirius always missed classes the day after. “James, y—you were the stag. Sirius, you were the dog, weren’t you? And Remus, oh, Merlin,” you gasped softly, remembering all the painful spells he must have had to endure from your wand. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve known.”

The lanky boy shook his head, “No, there was no way of you knowing.” He tried to reassure you even though they all knew it become more obvious every month. “And if you’re concerned about the spells, I’m fine. I got more wounds from these gits than from whatever you casted.”

“Only if you’re sure,” you muttered softly, eyebrows furrowed from the concern for someone you hoped to consider a friend. In fact, you hoped to consider all of the Marauders friends. It was obvious they’d matured from the pranksters they used to be in their younger years, and you were frankly relieved to find out that they were as bad as you thought they were. 

You didn’t seem to notice how Sirius looked at you like you held the earth up with your bare hands, and if you did notice, you didn’t mention it. You kept your focus on Remus, his terrible injuries, and how he seemed to be unfazed by them. You felt horrible.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Remus said lightly, as if reading your mind. “I know what you’re thinking. You don’t have to feel bad. I’m used to it at this point.” Opening your mouth to explain how that was why you felt bad, the boy shot you a look and spoke your name chastisingly. You stayed quiet for a while.

“Sirius?” You called out for the boy in the bed directly in front of you. He reacted far too quickly and far too eager to not be embarrassed, but you ignored his actions and spoke up once more. “Why did you save me? You could’ve helped James with Remus.”

The boy pushed himself up so he could sit properly with his back leaning against the headboard of the bed. He ignored the sharp pain in his hand and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Couldn’t let you die before the Hogsmeade trip. Speaking of that, since I saved your life and all, I think it’d be a great opportunity to repay me by being my date to Hogsmeade?” Sirius’ statement came out as more of a question. His shoulders were tense and his breathing became rapid, though he wouldn’t admit to anyone how easily you could break down all the confident walls he’d built up. 

“I would’ve rather died, then,” you joked. 

“Ah, then I’d just have to save you all over again.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Sirius beamed brightly at you. “Is that a ‘yes’ to Hogsmeade?” 

Shaking your head at him, you let out a small chuckle. “We’ll see.”

While you and Sirius playfully bantered back and forth across the infirmary, James leaned over to find Remus smirking right back at him.

“Are they flirting?” The curly-haired boy mouthed to his friend. 

“It seems like it.” Remus mouthed back, a smile tugging on his lips.

“I bet five galleons we catch them snogging after Hogsmeade.”

Remus smirked between you and Sirius, still too engrossed in your conversation to notice what was going on around you. “I bet you ten galleons we’ll catch them snogging as soon we get released from here.”

“Deal.”

v. you just too important

After you got released, you returned to your classes like usual and dodged the multiple questions your friends asked daily. You only brushed them away when you couldn’t come up with a sorry excuse as to why you ‘suddenly started talking to Sirius Black,’ but you always told them the most extravagant lies you could string up when you had the chance. 

The more time you spent talking to each other, the more you realized why all the girls dropped to their knees at the chance of being with him, even if it was just for one night. The more time you spent talking to each other, the more you realized that you were starting to fall for him. And it scared the hell out of you.

You even tried avoiding him when you first came to the realization that your feelings for Sirius were more than simply platonic, but your efforts only lasted a day before the boy sought you out and annoyed you until you were forced to give in. 

So, as the days went by, you became closer and closer. And your feelings for each other became stronger and stronger. This time, though, you didn’t want to fight it. Not at all.

“Darling,” Sirius called out in his usual sing-songy tone as he strode into the Gryffindor common room. He ignored all the odd looks he received from the others and grinned once he found your figure next to the fireplace, entertaining a first year by feeding the flames a few old textbook pages. “Ah, there you are! Remus and I were looking for you!”

You smiled softly at the sound of the boy’s voice, but you didn’t turn around to let him see how he’s finally broken down your walls. “Did you need me, Siri?” 

The new use of the nickname might have made Sirius scream his lungs out if he wasn’t in public and wasn’t still actively trying to hide that he was terribly in love with you. Instead, he only stared at you with a lovesick expression plastered onto his features, causing you to scrunch your nose up at the lack of a response.

You turned your head to look up at the boy, your doe eyes only pulling him in even more. “Sirius? Are you okay?” Chuckling awkwardly as he continued his intense, locked gaze on you and your pretty face, you redirected your attention to the equally awkward first year sitting beside you. “Well, if you’re going to stare, then you might as well sit down, yeah?”

Almost immediately, the raven-haired boy fell to the ground and sat crisscrossed, politely placing his hands in his lap as he watched you speak quietly to the young girl, her body relaxing when you placed a comforting hand on her. It was weird to have Sirius just staring at you in the beginning, but after a while, it was like he wasn’t even there. All he did was observe and listen.

He observed how you smiled gently at the girl whenever she spoke up in her small voice. He observed how your eyes lit up with fondness whenever you felt her touch. He observed how she leaned into you without hesitation when you offered to braid her beautiful, light brown hair. He observed how amazing you were with people younger than you, with kids. And he sure as hell observed how you would be a great mother and how he so desperately wanted to make y—well, that was a thought for another day.

Your gentleness was so endearing to him, it only made him fall for you more than he already had, if that was even possible.

Peter, who had been watching the interaction from afar, seemed to have had enough of the lingering tension and opportunities that weren’t acted upon. He wasn’t as aware of the whole situation as Remus and James were, but he was smart enough to piece all the little details together and figure out that both you and Sirius were too scared and were just waiting for the other to make a major move.

So, the boy took the situation into his own hands and dragged his friend away by the collar, taking him up to their dorm room despite the many, many efforts (albeit weak) made by the stronger boy. 

“Wormtail,” Sirius whined as soon as he heard the door shut. He pretended like he didn’t know what was going on, but in reality, he was grateful that Peter inserted himself into the situation before the pining became too strong. “Why’d you bring me up here?”

“You know why,” the boy hummed as he scoured through his bedside drawers, looking for his stash of food he always had stocked up. “She likes you. A lot. And Pads, if you don’t make a move on her now, who knows who’ll be there to take her away from you. I know how you feel about her, she knows how you feel about her, and practically everyone else at Hogwarts knows how you feel about her, so just snog her already!”

To Sirius’ surprise, as soon as his friend found the box of chocolates, he didn’t take any for himself and instead walked straight out of the dorm room. The blond boy walked down the curved stairs of the tower and found you sitting in the same spot you were in before he dragged Sirius away. 

As soon as you laid your eyes on him, you furrowed your eyebrows and beckoned him over. “Peter, did something happen with Sirius?”

“Ah, perfect! I was just coming to find you. Pads says he doesn’t want to eat, and I was thinking that if you offered him some chocolates instead of me, he might want to eat them. He hasn’t eaten the whole day.” The boy was speaking out of his ass, but he was tired of your unbearable pining, and frankly, so was everyone else.

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused by the sudden shift in character, but you shrugged your shoulders and took the box out of Peter’s hands. Patting the first year’s shoulder, you bid her goodbye and explained your task to her, pushing yourself off the ground and following the blond boy up to his dorm room.

The light box sat in your hands as you watched him rap his knuckles against the door, backing up until he stood behind you. The two of you patiently waited for Sirius to open the door, and as soon as he did, you felt Peter’s hands on your shoulders. Before you knew it, you had fallen directly into Sirius’ arms, effectively pushing the both of you back into the dorm room while the door shut behind you. 

The box of chocolates fell from your hands, but it was the least of your concerns when your front was pressed against Sirius’ chest and your faces were centimeters away. 

“Oh, um, I—“ you stammered, placing your hands on his chest to gently push him away.

Sirius, on the other hand, had other plans. He wrapped his arms around your waist with a smirk, his eyes flickering down to your lips every few seconds as he spoke. “You know I fancy you, right?” You only nodded at his question, but your flustered expression was enough to encourage him further. “And I fancy you a lot. Like, a lot, darling.”

Your inability to hold eye contact with him may have been embarrassing to you a month ago, but right now in his arms, you could care less. He spoke softly to you, his gaze filled with awe. He made you feel loved, despite all your past thoughts about him and his attempts to get you to go out on a date with him. 

Sirius’ voice grew impossibly quieter as he looked into your eyes. “Please tell me you like me, too.” 

Looking at his pleading expression and the way his lips just looked a bit too tantalizing with the way he bit it while awaiting your response, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in until your lips collided.

It felt like fireworks, the way his lips moved perfectly with yours. It was like nothing you had ever experienced before. Granted, you were never too occupied when it came to your love life, but Sirius was the best kisser you’d ever come across. His hands were planted on the small of your back, bringing your body even closer to his, and your hands raked through his luscious hair.

Pulling away and ignoring the small complaint that left his lips, you smiled at the boy, “Yes, I like you too, Sirius.”

Despite the fact that you had just kissed him, his eyes still lit up brighter than you had ever seen before. “Really? Are you serious?”

“No,” you laughed, the teasing glint in your eyes telling him exactly what you were about to say next. “You’re Sirius.”

He threw his head back and groaned at the joke, “Merlin, you’re perfect.” And then he pulled you in once more. 

The kiss, this time, was more heated, more intense than the first. It was hungrier, with your lips mashing together and your teeth clashing. But it was still filled with love. Filled with the thing Sirius had fought for when he approached you that day in the Great Hall. Filled with the thing he was desperate to gain when he offered you that golden snitch after his Quidditch game. Filled with what he hoped to receive when he bought you that Muggle book you were obsessing over. And most importantly, filled with the very thing that took over when he saw you at the Black Lake, terrified of what would happen if he lost you. 

You were both so engrossed in the kiss that you didn’t even notice the door creaking open. James, Remus and Peter peeked through the small crack to find you and Sirius all over each other, your hands tangled in his hair and his hands inching lower. 

Remus smirked at the curly-haired boy squatting next to him, holding his hand out with a cocky grin. Annoyed, James pulled ten galleons out of his pocket and begrudgingly placed it into his best friend’s palm, but all three of them knew that no matter who lost the bet and no matter how annoying Sirius would get later on, they were all just happy that you two were happy.

[showtoonzfan]

Now that the episode is out officially, here’s my rant review of Oops!

PROS:

- Fizz and Ozzie were adorable and I honestly love them. Despite the sex jokes, you can tell they love each other for who they are OUTSIDE of sex. While I did wish we would have seen more, (like how Ozzie took him in and fell in love) they’re still adorable to watch. They’re the better version of Stolitz, can the show be about them instead?

- Brandon’s voice acting holy shit, he really knows how to sound like he’s in tears or is broken. As much as I hate the character and feel no sympathy, he displayed genuine and broken emotion very well.

- Alex Brightman Alex Brightman

Okay that’s it. Moving on to the Cons. Bear with me, it’s a lot and I go back and forth a bit. 😭

CONS:

So for a quick short summary, this episode:

- Once again puts more focus on the filler plot rather than actually focusing on the relationships between the characters, so all we're left with is a 10 second clip of Fizz being burned while the rest of the episode is surrounded on sex jokes/petty bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around.

- Completely erases what made Blitz and Fizz's dynamic interesting in the first place because it retcons it with a dumb miscommunication trope about how Fizz actually wanted to see Blitz and Blitz tried reaching out to him. Not only does this feel like a cheap attempt to make Blitz out to be sweet/sympathetic and NOT the one in the wrong so Fizz can suck up to him, but this also makes no sense within the narrative.

- Has Fizz forgive Blitz despite him being the last person anyone would think would forgive him. (So honestly ruins Fizz himself because it turned him into a soft boy who's forgiving compared to the asshole he was in Ozzie's) All because Viv would sell her whole soul before she even remotely considers painting characters like Blitz and Stolas out to be the one's in the wrong.

- Takes Stolas out of the hospital completely, erasing all the drama/tension Western Energy had and proves that that episode was utterly pointless.

- Turns Striker from an interesting complex villain to a Saturday morning cartoon goon.

- Proves to us that Crimson is just a flat tool and gives us more prove that the world building rules Viv set up in season 1 legit don't matter.

-Ruins Blitz/Barbie's feud now because now you're making Barbie look like the one in the wrong since the fire was an accident. God forbid a female characters emotions in this show are justified.

But if you want my more in depth rants, it’s under the cut! (There’s a lot so bear with me lol)

- As usual WAAY too many sex jokes and swearing. It gets annoying and repetitive at times and some of them distract from the main plot. There’s a long and I mean LONNG dragged out joke of Fizz talking about Ozzie’s dick, then later saying he’s hard when Striker has a gun to his head, as well as Blitz making a joke about him and Fizz making out once they hug. Again, Viv can’t be serious for 2 seconds without an unfunny shitty gag. I genuinely wonder if Hazbin is ganna be like this, where a character is in a life threatening situation or a deep dark serious scene happens only for the next scene to be sex related.

- This is one of those “shit happens because the plot demands it” and it shows. Crimson and Striker COINCIDENTLY meet up with each other, and Fizz and Blitz just so HAPPEN to be in the same exact area they are. Viv wonders why we call her shit a fanfic and this is what we mean, when she creates wild wacky plots and focuses more on THAT rather than the actual character writing. This entire episode hinges on a useless poorly last minute planned kidnapping plot that didn’t need to happen. Also way to once again make the characters idiots so the plot can happen, cause Fizz KNOWS Ozzie worries for him and that the Greed Ring is dangerous, yet purposefully puts the spotlight on him.

- Stolas did NOT need to be in this episode. The plot completely ignores the fact that he was in the hospital the last time we saw him, and he’s only here for Stolitz banter. You’d think that a character admitting they have feelings for someone would be a big deal but he just flat out says it and it’s so underwhelming and feels half assed with no weight to it. Fan comics have made more dedication to this than Viv has. We're supposed to believe him too despite the show failing to actually SHOW us this. Same for Blitz ranting about how “nice” Stolas has been to him, laughing at his jokes and liking his posts…hey Viv, can we actually SEE that on screen so it’s more believable? Or are you only determined to show them sexually flirting? 😑

- Once again Viv felt the need to shove a B plot into this episode and this one sucks because it’s just two characters sitting and doing fucking nothing. It felt like Viv had no idea what to do with Stolas and Ozzie, and I refuse to believe that Ozzie just sat there knowing Fizz was in danger. If anything he would have said “fuck the paperwork” and went to save Fizz himself. Way to show that gif of Ozzie getting mad as a sneak peak to get fans excited, only to see that Ozzie spends the rest of the episode sitting in a dark room LMAO what a let down.

- Ozzie is weirdly chill and cool with Stolas and it’s something I don’t get. While he did say that Stolas had the real “spirit of Lust” in S1E7, it still gave you the impression that he was also more poking fun at Stolas rather than respecting him. The whole point of House of Asmodeous was that Ozzie outs him and publicly embarrassed him. Stolas literally was intimidated just by Asmodeous’s mere name, and hid his face around him. It seemed like Stolas certainly didn’t want someone like Ozzie to know about his private life especially since they’re both part of the Ars Goetia. Now here Ozzie is just cool with him and it feels like a missed opportunity for their dynamic.

- Stolas confessing his feelings about Blitz also makes…no sense narrative wise. I thought the whole point of The Circus and the ending to Western Energy was that he was realizing that Blitz didn’t like him that way and was finally waking up. I thought that’s why he was doing this whole crystal deal in the first place, so he can let Blitz go, yet the show keeps flip flopping and insisting that these two love each other and are good for each other. It’s really making you realize how this season and the previous stuff set up is becoming nonsense because the writers retcon EVERY damn episode. Also….why the hell is Stolas telling Ozzie his feelings for Blitz? Out of all people, why is it Ozzie, the person who outed Stolas and embarrassed him. Why is Stolas even respectful of Ozzie? He has no reason to, and he’s not under the impression that he’s dating Fizz either. I get that he needs the crystal but mentioning his love for Blitz makes no sense.

- Striker and Crimson teaming up to kidnap Blitz and Fizz was such an ass puller last minute decision. It feels overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time, more because it feels like Viv has no idea what to do with these two villain characters other than give them something evil to do to start the plot. Also…why…are they working together? It feels so random.

- Striker’s character especially is all over the place. First he’s working for Stella, then he’s painted as the best assassin in hell, and now he’s…looking for more work I guess and working for Crimson? Why? Does this guy even have a motive anymore? It feels like his character is just dangling around until Viv wants to use him for another wattpad kidnap plot and it ESPECIALLY shows when Striker escapes for the THIRD fucking time. Can this character/storyline actually GO somewhere or are you just going to keep introducing him and have him run away. 🤦🏽‍♀️

— How did Crimson not know who Striker is despite him being labeled as “the most popular assassin in hell”, and how the hell does Crimson know Ozzie and know all the information about him being in a relationship with Fizz?? Oh right because we needed the plot to happen somehow. Still, even if Crimson did know that Ozzie was the "weakest" and loved Fizz, (which….what about Beezlebub?)) he still should have known he was playing with fire. I get that he's supposed to be evil and intimidating but how could he have predicted that Ozzie would actually stand down and fill out the paperwork? He could have immediately came there and killed Crimson for all he knew. It's just distracting how..not planned this shit was.

- Fuck this episode for calling Striker a supremacist. It makes no sense?? Viv is trying SO hard to villainize him despite him being the one in the right and it pisses me off. He has every right to be mad at the upper class, he’s part of the lower class that we’re said Hell takes advantage of, but god forbid we call out Rich and powerful Stolas because that would mean he’s a b-bad person and we can’t have that complex morality! This is so not a “eat the rich” story and it shows bc Vivzie is rich as hell. Striker as a character deserves so much better man. Congrats writers, you had an interesting character and motive set up for him, now he’s nothing but a silly goon that you might as well kill off already cause you clearly don’t care about him. Crimson meanwhile is just a piece of paper, a boring plot device I could give less of a shit about. I thought his motive was to go after Moxxie, now he’s just doing fuck whatever because this show desperately wants a bad guy for their filler fanfic plots.

- We get more world building issues, Ozzie and Fizz are so determined to hide their relationship for obvious reasons, but then at the end of the episode just say “fuck it, no one would dare tell anyway”. So now they’re being open about their relationship and lmao I told y’all the newspaper scene of Ozzie being called out for being a hypocrite wouldn’t go anywhere. Even if Ozzie did threaten his workers to not tell, they can’t be so sure that someone wouldn’t see or snitch, it’s kinda a retcon too cause they were pretty lovey dovey in Ozzie’s. Still, it makes the characters look dumb and it makes the rules Viv set up for Hell once again not mean anything.

- We finally get to see Fizz’s backstory in action and it’s executed in the most underwhelming way possible. It’s literally a fucking 10 second clip of what went down, and rather than experiencing the event for ourselves, it’s in flashback mode but with Fizz’s voice talking over it. That’s it. I’ve seen fan comics/fanart that built this shit up better than Viv did, that actually took the slow time and dedication it needed, and here it feels like such an afterthought, like Viv could care less. Maybe if this actually was a character driven show like Viv claims, Stolas, Striker, and Crimson would be taken out of the picture and then that would leave us with PLENTY time to actually explore and develop Blitz/Fizz, bc most of this episode is just them pettily bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around. But nah, we gatta have our fanfic kidnapping plot. Same goes for the reveal of Blitzo’s mom dying in the same fire. Glad to know that she got the same treatment Moxxie’s mom did, where we don’t even know her and yet we’re supposed to feel moved and care about her death. You nailed that one Viv. 👍

- I predicted that this episode would victimize Blitz and have the fire incident be an accident, (because Viv is a pussy writer and can’t make her characters actually do bad things like god forbid) but I never thought they’d actually have the balls to have Fizz forgive Blitz immediately in the same episode and pull the “actually turns out that horrible thing you did to me helped me in a way”- trope. Biggest flaw of the episode, fuck you Viv. I was actually going to applaud Blitz for taking accountability, but then the dialogue reminds you that an abuser wrote this, and he shifts his apology to “okay but I lost something too see so it’s not all about you” as if he’s fucking dismissing Fizz’s trauma and making it about himself. “I love flawed characters” my fucking ass. I would have smacked a bitch if I was Fizz because Blitzo loosing his mother in the fire too isn’t an excuse?? Fizz lost his fucking ARMS AND LEGS, and at the end of the day Blitzo STILL KNEW HE WAS HELPLESS IN THE FIRE BUT LEFT HIM BEHIND. He could have gotten help and came back, but didn’t. If this were a good show Fizz would have threw that apology back in Blitzo’s face and said “I don’t care if it was an accident or not, you still left me there and then proceeded to loathe me for years”. This is why Helluva will never be Bojack cause at least characters in that show who got treated horribly by him knew when to say “no, fuck you.”

- The episode retcons again, this time they make it out to be that Blitz TRIED contacting Fizz the years they were apart but no one would let him see him. Then they say that Fizz actually WANTED to see Blitz but assumed he didn’t want to, so their entire feud was solely because of miscommunication?? Number one, show don’t fucking tell omg. And number two, that makes ZERO sense. Blitz talked badly about Fizz in Loo Loo Land, and when they finally reunited in Ozzie’s, it was clear they fucking loathed each other. You got the impression that Blitz was petty and jealous just because Fizz was more popular, and Fizz not only loathed him for the accident, but liked to rub in his face about how much of a big shot he was. They literally do that in this episode too, so the episode is literally contradicting itself. Blitz and Fizz had multiple chances to meet up with each other, you can’t just say “oh they couldn’t because no one would let them”- So which is it? Did they hate each other because of bad blood, petty drama, or that they thought the other didn’t want to see them? Pick ONE Viv and stick to it, but she never does. Their feud was interesting and now you ruined it just to have some sweet happy ending. “Adult mature show” my ass lol.

-Bottom line is Fizz shouldn’t have forgave Blitz so easily, or forgave him period. I find it funny how he says “it’s hard to just forgive you” and then he literally does lol. I feel so bad for Fizz fans, him and Blitz’s feud was honestly interesting, so to see all of this go down in a half-assed piss poor way as if this was Care Bears is….wow. The fan interpretations had more thought and care put into this storyline but what else is new lol.

- I’m really tired of these shitty annoying songs. If you’re going to get Broadway actors, please put effort into your songwriting and actually have them sing something good, not something that’s literally nonsense. This Fizz song sounds like it took less than a minute to write and Sam Haft was just thinking of anything he could think of at the top of his head. Also Why the fuck are Striker and Crimson just STANDING there while Fizz sings. They look like idiots, just SHOOT them omg. If this were a funny show, Fizz would have started his first note and Crimson just rolls his eyes and pulls his gun out.

- Fizz and Ozzie kill the lawyer but not…Crimson? Despite Fizz knowing what ring he’s in and even Ozzie knowing what he looks like? Same for Blitz, he doesn’t try to make sure Striker is dead. I get that the plot demands for these two to still be around, but there’s a way to keep them alive without making the main characters look like fucking idiots. Also Stolas just leaves without doing or contributing anything to the plot yay.

- Fizz: “Let him have it, you could say he’s earned it”— Uhm….Nope. Blitz did NOT earn shit. He didn’t even earn Fizz’s forgiveness. Last time I checked, the moment Blitz cried and said it was an accident, Fizz forgave him, knowing he didn’t mean it. What effort did Blitz do to “earn” that as well as the crystal? Because he saved Fizz and didn’t leave him behind for the SECOND time near the end?? Cause if so than the bar is extremely low. That’s the bare minimum, just because Blitz cried and felt bad about it doesn’t mean he should be let off the hook Viv. I hate this so much, what a shitty conclusion, it feels forced just so Blitz can have the crystal and just so the writers can once again paint him as the one in the right. It’s almost insulting that they make it seem like Fizz was in the wrong for assuming Blitz starting the fire too, same for Barbie.

God what a shitty day it is to be a Fizz fan, I’m sorry. The episode did NOT do him justice. Fizzarolli deserved better than that half assed gaslighting apology for someone who lost their arms and legs man, and I’m tired of the show letting every character suck up to Blitz and Stolas for their horrible treatment just because they feel bad. Not only that but the episode (as most recent HB episodes) was a huge time waster. Everyone was really hoping for an in depth walkthrough of his character/backstory but again, when he’s not with Ozzie, the rest/most of his screen time is dedicated to him being helpless and pointlessly arguing with Blitz, plus a long dragged out nonsense song that didn’t need to happen. It felt like SO much time was wasted when we could have used the runtime we have to dive deeper and see more, like….again it would have been nice to see Fizz’s life AFTER the accident and how he became well known as well as how he fell in love with Ozzie, but his backstory is briefly scratched upon in a single scene and that’s it, all because Viv wanted this filler plot and wanted to dedicate more time to THAT rather than actual character expansion/development, something we could have got had you took out Stolas and Ozzie’s B plot and Striker and Crimson.

Viv is so on her way to murder/ruin every character that isn’t Blitz and Stolas and I won’t be here to watch further. I’ll check out the Mammon music video thing but that’s it man, this show is going off the rails, Adding Fizz to the character adoption list!

[divaofmads]

Remember Me | Din Djarin

The account where I found the gif @tomshiddles

**WARNINGS**: Non-canon, no y/n (Crystalia/ Nickname as Cala: When your father noticed your abilities, he made a deal with Ahsoka, thinking that a Jedi should train you. You trained for three or four years, but Ahsoka had to leave.), Fluff, Soft Sex, Toxic, Obsession, Age Gap, Erotic, !!+18 Only!!, Death, Drama.

English is not my native language. I am just trying to improve my writing skills. So I apologize for any mistakes I made.

Word: 4k∼

Pre-Story: You are a princess. A warrior princess from a rich planet. You had a happy life until Moff Gideon invaded your planet. You learned that Moff Gideon wanted to marry you when he was collaborating with your family. So you ran away and found Din Djarin to get revenge and kill him. You knew about the war they had with Moff Gideon back then. But it was out of business, you fell in love. You were going to get married after the planet was saved. You gave up your right to the throne.

Although all the Mandalorians helped you save the planet, Moff Gideon understood the bond between you and Din Djarin and was tempted to kill you. He distracted Din Djarin so that you were alone, and eventually managed to kill you in the duel you had. Moff Gideon did not leave your lifeless body alone and took it with him as he boarded the ship.

Note: You've never seen Din's face.

Please leave comment and be my inspration :)))

You were playing with Grogu on your lap. Since Din couldn’t take care of you while you were on your way to the Mandalorian planet with the Razor Crest, it was up to you to find various games for the boy. You didn't want him to forget his powers, even though he didn't choose that path, he was a great Jedi to you. You always tried to keep what he learned fresh in the name of gaming. Grogu was an orphan. After Din adopted him, he had a father. Now had a mother too. His loneliness evolved from being an orphan to an adoring family.

You held your hand up in the air, just out of reach. You were throwing the metal ball you had hidden in your palm somewhere, waiting for him to stop it with his telekinesis ability and take it, encouraging him. When he finally caught it right in the air, you shouted with joy.

"You were amazing, Grogu!"

Din turned to you as soon as he heard the joyful scream. It might not have been possible to see his face through his helmet, but his voice showed how excited he was.

"I knew you would do it! You keep doing better!"

As a parent, you were so proud of your son. Grogu was smiling and cooing.

When Din looked back to the road, he thought about how lucky he was. You both brought color and joy to his lonely life. You taught him qualities he didn't know about himself. Hours later, this happy family portrait of yours would become official.

You stopped playing with Grogu and called out to Din. “How much is left, darling?"

"It's almost there. We'll be there soon."

You stood up, placing Grogu on the couch and fastening his seat belt before you approached Din and grabbed his shoulder, got support by him as the Razor Crest shook slightly.

Din spoke up before you could. “Once we get there, we’ll both be leaving our old lives behind. Are you ready for that?” he asked in an unsure tone without waiting for an answer. “You know me, but you’ve never seen me in person. What if you don’t like the man under the helmet? Don’t you ever think about that? Young ladies care about that.”

Grogu's ears perked up as soon as he heard Din's question. He was too young to understand what was going on, but he was smart enough to understand that it was an important matter and that it concerned the attraction between the two of you. That was why you didn't want to get into such topics around the boy. You patted his shoulder over the pauldron and smiled.

"As long as no Wookie comes out of the helmet, you'll be fine."

"No, I can't be that hairy," he said, returning your joke.

But he was serious in his question. Since he couldn't get the answer he wanted from you, his anxiety increased. Although he seemed to have forgotten about it, in the back of his mind, whether you would like him when you saw him or not was being processed. Many times he wanted to take off his helmet with him. But he didn't want to go out of his way again. Otherwise, he would be too dirty to wash in the living waters. But when you died, he couldn't stand the pain and took off his helmet. He was alone. After Moff Gideon killed you and boarded the ship with your body, Din was on his knees, hugging your lifeless body in his mind. The mourning lasted for days, weeks and months. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so strict, he thought. Then you would know who he was and decide to fall in love accordingly.

Din Djarin didn’t even notice they had reached the planet as he struggled with his “if onlys.” That was until you tapped him on the shoulder and took your place in the chair.

“Here we are!” You picked up Grogu.

Din winced and readied the ship for entry into Mandalorian’s atmosphere.

As you descended into the vast courtyard of the Razor Crest palace, you saw Bo Katan herself coming to greet you. You wanted to get Grogu into his vehicle and get downstairs as quickly as possible, but he had no intention of letting go of your arms. Din said in a tone of happiness,

“He missed you more than I thought. Let’s go down.”

You were moving forward as the passageway hatch opened downwards. Bo Katan still couldn’t believe she was seeing you. It was more logical that Din had gone mad. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that you would leave the ship. The last time she saw you was when your hologramic lifeless body was adorned with Auricula flowers in the coffin. She remembered how devastated Djarin had been, and he had followed your lifeless body to make it comfortable.

What kind of a greeting would seem more sincere? Maybe it would be more appropriate to pretend that none of this had happened and greet the 'woman her friend is going to marry'. He has already begun the greeting ceremony by alienating the word 'care'.

"You've finally made it. We've all been waiting for you."

Din spoke up. "It's good to be here, Bo Katan."

Bo Katan looked at you and Grogu. You still loved each other very much. So you weren’t just a ghost. You were standing in front of her, real flesh and blood.

She shook your hand. “Princess Crystalia, I hope you find our planet for favorable your wedding ceremony favorable. Our ancestors have strived to continue their traditions for centuries. It is an honor for us to be a part of one of these.”

You smiled. “The honor is mine, my lady.”

Since you both came from noble lineage, you knew the protocols and developed your style in a balanced way.

Yet Bo Katan’s friendly demeanor was tinged with meaningful looks. “I’m sorry there’s no wedding dress. Din’s announcement that you were alive had already surprised us, but the news that you were getting married two days ago caught us off guard.”

"No problem. I guess it didn't seem normal to be married in a white dress among Mandalorians," you answered.

"For a nation that has dedicated its entire life to war, yes," she replied. As you walked through the palace corridors, she said, "Everyone is here. They are waiting for you to swear an oath of allegiance. You will see them all at the banquet."

When you entered the throne room, The Armorer was waiting for you as the person who will marry you. Welcomed you.

Your gaze was strange. "Will we be alone when the promises are made?"

If you were Mandalorian, you didn't even have to be in the same room when you swore your oath of allegiance with the person you were going to marry. All you had to do was know the promises and accept them. Everything had to be as simple and private as possible. Only after the promises were made would the others join in and a feast be held.

The Armorer answered. "Of course, this is your special moment, and you must spend your first night in the living waters, as compensation for seeing Din Djarin without his helmet for the first time. Thus will your marriage be consummated."

As you looked at her in surprise, Djarin spoke up. "I didn't expect such a big organization, to be honest."

Bo Katan glanced at Djarin. It was impossible not to notice the mischievous smile on his face. “You’re marrying a noblewoman. Of course there had to be some showiness, right?”

Grogu was looking at you with question marks next to him, aware of the tension. You locked eyes. The nervousness that fed his curious gaze had fueled Bo Katan's sense of conscience. Se turned to him and winked.

"It's okay, Grogu! Mom and Dad will be making a promise to each other in a moment."

The person who would perform your wedding would be the leader of Djarin's clan, and the person who will witness your words will of course be the Mandalorian queen. Bo Katan climbed the stairs and stood in front of her throne. She began her speech by explaining the reason for your being here and her duties as queen.

Your head was slightly bowed, as you should have shown respect to your queen. Din turned his head to you as Lady Kryze continued speaking. You agreed to follow the Mandalorian teachings in order to marry him. It was a source of pride. The fact that the woman he loved was there to support him on his own path made him even more devoted to his love. He had lost you once, never again, he told himself. He would never lose you.

When The Armorer asked you to repeat the words, Din turned his head toward her, so caught up in the perfection of a lifetime with you that he flinched.

“Together we are one,” she said, and you felt uneasy as you repeated it. You were not well versed in Mandalorian culture. “When we are apart, we are one,” Din repeated, tensing with excitement at the prospect of removing his helmet. “We share everything,” Grogu grinned, watching you as you repeated. “We will raise warriors!” you repeated.

Bo Katan, "Princess Cala, you are now Din Djarin's future wife. Your name is Din Cala from now on!"

Taking a deep breath, you turned to Din. You were now officially married. You would fight together, raising your adopted son Grogu. Of course, you had something else on your mind: the moment had come for him to remove his helmet. You would physically see the man you married. You had a smile on your face that showed his anticipation.

The Armorer says, "You can go to the living waters whenever you want."

Djarin bowed his head in agreement. “This is the way!”

You smiled at Djarin expectantly.

Djarin said, "You can see it after the banquet when we are alone."

"Okay then," you said with dissatisfaction and together you went to the dining hall where the banquet would be held.

Finally, you were at the steps of the living waters while they continued their feast. Some Mandalorians were also taking care of Grogu. No one could disturb you here. Feeling the mystical energy of the sacred waters to your cells while being with each other on your first night would complete your marriage.

You stood between the mine walls, looking at each other.

"Din, are you really sure about this? I mean, is it right for us to be here? For the intercourse."

Din spoke up. He took your hands and said,

"Cala, in the presence of the living waters we will belong to each other. There could not be a more perfect moment. If you are ready, of course."

You raised your eyebrows. “Ready for what? To see the man under the helmet, or for you to touch me?”

Djarin didn't know what to say. He was slurring his words, stuttering. He was trying to remain secretive.

You stepped closer. "You know what, Din Djarin? I never expected to see you like this."

"What do you mean?"

"You've always been a mysterious man. Sometimes I thought you were an emotionless droid. But now I see the excited man under the helmet," you said and grinned. "It gives me pleasure to surprise you."

"I'm not excited or anything," Djarin said, his tone half angry, half indifferent. "I just don't want to disappoint a young woman. That's all." He was a hunter! There was no job he hadn't taken on for credit in his day. How strange that the truly emotionless, bounty hunter was now showing his emotional vulnerability in the presence of a young Jedi. He was looking for the old Djarin. Where was he, really?

You rolled your eyes and gave him a smug look. “Is that why the topic always comes down to the helmet?”

Djarin got angry. He continued to act indifferent. "Think whatever you want. Of course, I respect that a young girl thinks such things to satisfy her ego." He said.

You frowned. You looked much angrier than he did. You stood right in front of him with determined steps. You were looking at his helmet with the same determination. Finally, Djarin stopped, realizing his stupidity.

"Come on Cala. Take off the helmet."

Excluding the times when you were thought to be dead, you had been together for a year and a half and you had lost hope of ever seeing Djarin. To love without seeing him... To fall in love with his character and soul without discriminating between handsome, ugly, old, young, wouldn't that be the most innocent love in the world? That's why Djarin surrendered himself to you. The woman he fell in love with wasn't someone who would care about material values. That's why he married you, that's why he opened the doors of secrets wide open and let his guard down.

Djarin closed his eyes as he reached for the helmet. This would be the first time you would make real eye contact. You would hear his voice changing under the helmet in its purest form for the first time. How could it not be exciting? It was the most special moment.

You slowly took off his helmet. Djarin had been curious about your reaction the moment your eyes met. He was good at hiding his emotions, but you weren’t much different.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asked suspiciously.

You placed the helmet between your arm and waist and brought your other hand to Djarin’s cheek. When your fingers touched his skin, he was reminded of how much he desired you, how hungry he was for you. It was like a dying madman finding an oasis in the desert.

The fact that you still didn't say a word was causing him to get lost in the dark well of the unknown. Just as he was about to repeat the same question to you with his lips parted, you approached him and pressed your lips to his gently. You felt the warmth of his skin on you. After the long kiss, you stepped back.

Djarin was grateful for the love you had shown him. “I guess that explains it all,” he said. He never lost his reserved demeanor, unable to tell you how he felt. The teachings he had spent on the Mandalorian path had taken some of his abilities from him, involuntarily. But the feelings were permanent. This time, he was the one who made the first move. He was much more passionate now. His hands slowly moved up from your hands, following your arms to your neck, and from there he continued to kiss you, holding your face tightly. His moist kiss was so passionate that you didn’t even notice the loud sound of Beskar steel hitting the ground when you forgot about the helmet you had under your arm and hugged him. The sound echoed off the walls of the cave, though. You just continued, not caring if anyone heard.

Djarin moved a few inches away and whispered to your lips. "I never expected this day to come. But you are in front of me, my skin touching yours," he said and caressed your jawbone and moved towards lower lip again. He left bites and kisses without hurting your, while at the same time he was taking off your white waistbands. After taking his place on the fabric step, it was your war costume's turn. Leaving your lips and slowly placing kisses under your chin, his long arms found your back. He started to untie your clothes. His breath was trembling with excitement. From the day he fell in love with you until the day he tasted his death, your skins were longing for each other.

As he pulled away from you and began to pull your clothes down, he was admiring the beauty of your skin, but you averted your eyes in embarrassment.

He frowned and stopped pulling back the fabric - just as he was about to see her breasts. "We can stop whenever you want, Cala, it's okay."

Your lips parted, and you looked as if you were trying to explain yourself in a hurry.

"No, please don't stop. I just think I got excited about a man I'm seeing for the first time."

"Okay then," he said, and Djarin continued to take off her clothing. Your breasts were revealed first. The nipples were already hard, waiting to be sucked by Djarin. Then he saw your stomach and groin. He was amazed by the velvety feel of your skin. He dropped to one knee as he peeled it down. You were looking down at him, at what he was doing.

Djarin was looking at his groin. His hands suddenly slid down to your waist, careful and gentle, as if he were holding a delicate flower.

The man on his knees in front of you, kissing your groin, seemed to be performing a religious ritual. He could feel the Mandalorian faith on his skin, as if his lips were worshipping you as they touched you. He was in awe of everything about you. He was intoxicated. He could only come to himself when he flinched when his warm breath touched his skin. He untied your boots and caressed your feet, taking them out. He got up from his knees and stood in front of you. You were completely naked.

"It's your turn," he said. He wanted you to undress him.

You started taking off his armor one by one. You looked into his eyes as you took off his pauldron. You thought he was going to look at your body but he waited a long time to actually meet your eyes. He was happy for you to see him. He was completely special to the two of you.

You took his hand and pulled off his glove, bringing it to your chest. Your gaze was Djarin’s aphrodisiac. You wore a naughty boy grin as if what you were about to experience was a great sin.

You tossed the gloves aside and brought his hands up to your lips, kissing the tips of his fingers.

Djarin took this gesture as a sign of respect. "You know these hands are going to make you moan with pleasure in a moment, right?" he asked.

You nodded. "I know."

Djarin and you were now completely naked. The hand you held was now supporting you as you descended the steps. You stood side by side. You could not take your eyes off each other as the sacred waters slowly rose from your feet. You were now in the sacred waters up to your waist.

The heat from your sexual desire radiating from your groins and spreading throughout your body combined with the coolness of the water and you shivered.

Djarin grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him. His wet hands reached your cheek. His lips came to life on yours again. The day you died came to mind as they made love, and this made Din Djarin become much more passionate when they were in a relationship. Because he had never confessed his love to you. He regretted it. He should not make such a mistake again.

Thanks to the buoyancy of the water, you wrapped your legs around his waist very comfortably. As your bodies moved aesthetically as if they were twisting with pleasure, the waves of water were wetting you all over. You were soaked as your tongues danced with each other. The drops of water sliding down your forehead were cooling your lips, making them much more slippery; feeling your sensitive skin deeply was fueling your hunger.

Djarin's hands were exploring your body. He was holding hard by the hips, caressing you. You were so plump that you overflowed from his palm. He anticipated the pleasure he would soon experience when he fucked you.

"Oh, Cala! You have such beautiful skin! I know we were made for each other."

One of his hands suddenly went to your breast. When he stimulated your pointed nipple, you moaned without taking your lips off his. His erection had already accelerated with your moaning. You felt a hardness right on your vulva. He was pressing on your clit, forcing you. You expected his cock to be thick, but you were surprised by its length. You grinned, showing your teeth.

"Tell me, how do I take it in? It's going to hurt, isn't it?"

Djarin moved his hand from her breast to her vulva and began to caress it. "Don't worry, once I get you ready, you won't mind me coming in."

His cock was now pressing against your vagina. The arousal factor applied from two places caused you to frown, burying your face in his neck, and moan loudly.

"Cala, you moan so wonderfully, moaning for me only incites my lust more."

He moved his hand from your hip to your hair and pulled you closer to him. His face found your cheeks, nibbling on them little by little, while his other hand continued to quickly caress your inner lips.

When you least expected it, he grabbed your waist, lifted your body a few inches up, and sat you on his lap again, allowing his penis to enter your vagina. Your eyes widened in surprise. A weak scream escaped your lips. Your hands were gripping his shoulders tightly. Your nails dug into his skin. Din Djarin was no different. He moaned along with you.

"Damn it Cala! I didn't think it would be this tight."

It was as if your vagina and his penis were trying to get used to each other. It was more pleasure than you could handle.

You asked breathlessly, but moans were escaping your lips with every word. “Aren’t you happy with this?”

"I'm actually very pleased!" he replied. It was impossible not to notice the pleasure on his face. He grabbed your hips again and started fucking you, slowly moving you up and down. Your genitals felt the pleasure equally, down to the smallest detail. It was impossible for you to speed up. You were shaking every time he lifted you up and down his lap. Your muscles could not resist any longer, and your body lay down on the surface of the water. Your back met the coldness of the living waters. Your hair was moving on the surface as the water rippled. In fact, the water flowing from your wet hair was sliding down your spine, making you shiver. Djarin was slowly increasing his pace and it felt like he couldn't hold back. But he had to hold himself back, he had to hold on. The glorious taste he was getting made him caress your breasts tightly.

You had lost yourself in each other's skin as if this was your last time making love. Your love was roaming in your veins and coming to life in your groins. Djarin pulled your body closer to his. He continued to bite your ears and neck. You could hear him breathing heavily. He was drawing circles on your clitoris, suddenly applying too much pressure, making you contract. Then he was surprising you with up and down movements. You were so full, so pleased, that your body could not stand it anymore and you threw yourself forward. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Your face looked like you were in pain, but everything was from pleasure.

As you got closer to your orgasm, you noticed Din Djarin was getting emotional. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly as he continued to move inside you.

"I love you, baby. I love you more than you could ever imagine."

You were completely in love with Dinjarin.

"I love you too," you said in breathlessly. "I love you too, my love."

Djarin cried out your name as he orgasmed hip muscles contracted, his hands squeezed your skin so hard it hurt. You came right after Djarin. Your body was still shaking, responding to the orgasm. He pulled his penis out of your vagina and his semen mixed with the living waters inside you. Then, without letting you out of his arms, he carried you to the shore and collapsed next to you, the wet stone was cold, thanks to sex, your burning sensitive skin felt the texture more. Djarin stared at the water drops glistening on her smooth skin.

Holding your cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Strange."

Djarin frowned. “What does this mean?”

"I never imagined I would make love in the waters of a mine." you smiled.

After that night, you spent a few more days in the Mandalorian palace. Grogu was happy with his parents' happiness. He was spreading joy to those around him. The bad days he had were left behind with you, he had made peace with his memories.

In the palace courtyard, you and Djarin were teaching him to be a good warrior, you were helping him develop his Jedi powers, and Djarin was introducing him to Mandalorian weapons.

Some nights, he would get scared because of the bad nightmares he had. Since you were both Jedi who knew how to manipulate the force, you would go to Grogu's room, feeling his fear. One night, it happened again. You entered Grogu's room and woke him up, hugging and telling him you were with him. At that moment, Din Djarin appeared at the door.

"He can sleep next to us tonight. What do you say?"

You looked towards the door as you picked up Grogu and rubbed his back. “I think this will be good.”

The three of you were now lying on the bed, Grogu in the middle of you, his eyes not showing the slightest sign of sleep.

"Come on, Grogu. You need to sleep," he said.

You offered with a satisfied grin. “How about you tell him one of your Mandalorian tales?”

Djarin sat up and looked at you. “Why should I tell? You’re the princess. I’m sure your nannies told you many fairy tales when you were little.”

You switched your position to Djarin and Grogu.

"Yes, they did. Now I want to listen to you."

Djarin gave in. "Okay, okay. I'll get started."

You were both listening to the story he told with curious eyes. The soothing tone of his voice had put you to sleep in a short time. He heard your snores at the most exciting part of the story. He muttered to himself. "Did you fall asleep that quickly? Anyway, good night and sweet dreams." He kissed the child on the cheek and you on the lips, then he put the blanket on you and watched how sweetly you slept for a while. He didn't need sleep. Besides, watching his wife and child rested him both mentally and physically.

A few hours after the sunlight had lit up the sky, Djarin saw the Imperial ship appear in the sky. He knew exactly who it belonged to. He quickly got up and began to put on his armor. The sound of Beskar steel woke you. You looked at Djarin, rubbing your eyes. “What’s going on?”

"We'll find out soon," he said.

The sound of the ship reached your ears. You got out of bed and headed towards the window. Your heart was beating rapidly, your breathing becoming irregular. “He came for me,” you muttered to yourself. The long absence of news from him had led you to assume he was dead. But it was Moff Gideon who stepped out of the gate shortly after the ship landed in the courtyard.

Din commanded as he walked out of the room with stiff and fast steps. "Crystalia! You and Grogu will stay here. I'll deal with him."

Of course, you didn’t listen to him. You put on your clothes and followed him. The Mandalorians had already appeared in the courtyard, their weapons trained on Gideon. While he was trying to negotiate with Lady Kryze, Djarin appeared.

"What are you doing here! You should be dead already!"

Gideon replied with his fake smile.

"But as you can see, I'm not dead. I'm more alive than ever. There's a lot of fake news these days, isn't there?"

Djarin knew that Moff Gideon had a sickening attachment to you. He had heard of your marriage, of course. He looked like he was going mad. He would kill her without mercy if she made the slightest move. You were his, no one could tear you apart. “What do you want from us? Wasn’t your defeat in our last encounter enough!”

Gideon looked at you standing behind Din Djarin. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble. I came to take what is mine.”

You looked at Djarin guiltily, Grogu in your arms. The tears in your eyes were not fearful, but regretful.

Djarin shouted with hatred. "Does it belong to you? We got married, now leave her alone!"

Gideon started to approach you.

“Being married doesn’t change the fact that Crystalia was made for me,” he said and stopped right in front of Djarin. You sighed in fear as he held the remote control in his hand at eye level.

"No!"

Lady Kryze, like the others, could not understand the worry on his face. The secret behind his death was hidden in his current reaction; it was clearly visible.

Djarin couldn't understand. Not your reaction, not the remote control Gideon was holding in his hand. "Whatever nonsense you're talking about, just say it clearly! I'm out of patience."

"The woman you married is nothing more than a clone created using Crystalia's DNA. Doctor Pershing and I created her so that her power would be much more intense than the real Crystalia's. When I became the ruler of the Empire, I was going to make her my queen and put her in charge of my army."

Djarin couldn't make sense of what Moff Gideon was telling him. You were Crystalia. Your looks, your voice, your personality. This couldn't be true. He turned to you.

" Cala! What is all this? Can you explain it to me!"

You were crying heartily. You placed Grogu in the arms of a Mandalorian standing next to you. You were about to approach him and apologize when Moff Gideon continued speaking.

“Crystalia was in love with you. When we created her clone, we reprogrammed the synapses in her brain in the hopes that you would be Din Djarin’s enemy,” he raised his voice angrily and glared at you accusingly. “Yet despite this, her consciousness brought you and your relationship to light! She escaped from my base and lost track of you! She found you, Din Djarin! She was supposed to obey me. She was supposed to worship me! And yet I see my clone, whom I created, marry Din Djarin!”

You walked over to Djarin and grabbed his shoulders.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" you sobbed.

Djarin was disappointed. He had lost you for the second time. The real Crystalia's body was still lying in the lab. But the woman standing in front of him was also a clone derived from your genes, with your consciousness. You lied to her, but you made her feel like Crystalia. He couldn't decide whether to be sad or to thank you, the clone.

He took one of her hands and placed it over your heart. "Can you tell me this isn't real? I need it so bad, please tell me this isn't real, I'm begging you! You're not dead, are you?"

Moff Gideon spoke up. “Crystalia is dead, Mandalorian. I swore I would never reunite you, and I have fulfilled my oath. You no longer have a body to cry over. She was wasted on an incompetent clone in my lab. Fortunately, I have three more clones. They are waiting to breathe.”

Bo Katan Kryze gritted her teeth. "You're not evil, Gideon, you're sick!"

Moff Gideon looked at her grimly. “Perhaps. But I came here to fix the mistake I made,” he said, and pressed the button on his remote. “Goodbye once more, my love.”

Your body slowly began to transform into energy. You were turning into a ghost, your body becoming transparent as your cells lost their tangibility and merged with nature. Djarin shouted, panicking at the prospect of losing you once more as he lost the sensation of your skin. “No! Cala!”

"If even a part of me belongs to the real Crystalia, then she loved Din Djarin more than anything in the world," you said. Those were your last words, and when your body was completely gone, Din cried out in great pain. He had already suffered greatly from losing you. Losing you again was almost enough to make him lose his mind. He fell to his knees and pounded the ground. His cries still echoed off the palace walls. Grogu landed on the ground and jumped into Djarin's arms, sharing his sadness with his father.

Moff Gideon may have been glad to have brought his mission, but Din Djarin's suffering gave him a special kind of pleasure.

"What a shame," he said and turned around and got back into his ship. As he left, some Mandalorians wanted to make him pay for what he did, but Bo Katan said that the current situation was not ready for that. This was revenge that would have to be taken later.

[erospandemos]

Winter's mission

Aespa Winter x Reader

Winter finds your secret diary and most importantly, your secret bucket list. Upon the discovery, she decides to fulfil every possible desire. The problem, however, is that every aspiration revolves around Winter herself.

Minjeong and you agreed to do a marathon to watch the whole drama you had both been saving up to watch. Your friend came to your house right before lunch so you could start eating with the first episode. It was just like the other times: she promised she wouldn’t get too invested and after two episodes she’d start screaming from frustration when the main leads were this close to kissing but backed away. You’d be laughing and she’d be yelling at you because it was a serious matter.

In the late afternoon, Minjeong got hungry. She begged you to get her favorite snack, the pepero sticks. You bought them two weeks ago and put them somewhere in your kitchen but didn’t remember at all. Still, your friend wanted one thing and one thing only. You tried to refuse but when she showed you her googly eyes and puffed her cheeks, you gave in. She was just too cute.

So you stood up and reluctantly made your way to the kitchen.

However, you made a big mistake by leaving the room without checking the stuff on your table, most notably your diary. Minjeong saw it clearly, the weathered journal peeking out from under a pile of books on the bedside table. She knew it wasn’t a notebook because she’d been your friend long enough to have memorized all your preferences and you were too cheap to buy such a nice diary.

Curiosity piqued, she hesitated for a moment to think if she should do it or not. She chewed her lower lip, with a light sense of guilt. You were gone to find some hidden and forgotten snack, so it should have been long enough—she had enough time. The more she waited, the more dangerous it was. 

Minjeong made up her mind. She lifted the books and took out the notebook. She sat cross-legged on your bed, ready to reveal your secrets. As she contemplated opening it, a rush of adrenaline hit her veins, causing her heart to quicken and her muscles to tense up. She hasn’t even read a single letter yet but sweat was already dripping down her back.

“I probably shouldn't be doing this, but... what's the harm?” she whispered to herself, sighing deeply. “Okay, just a peek. It won’t hurt anyone.”

Minjeong took one last deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she started to open the diary. The creak of the leather seemed to echo in the room, she was alone. She started reading the entries, a mix of doodles, random thoughts, and personal reflections. 

Some of the pages only had silly ramblings like how you noticed a game’s sale too late and had to pay 5 dollars more. Minejong giggled lightly but the adrenaline was still there. Her breathing became shallow, her gaze scanning the words on the page. As she flipped through the pages, she stumbled upon an entry that caught her off guard.

She raised her eyebrow as she started reading it: 

SATURDAY 21 OCTOBER, 2023 I’m pretty sure Minjeong is playing with my heart. She’s been acting a lot more touchy lately. She was hugging my arm, hugging me and constantly touching me. She hugged me before as well since we’re friends but it just feels different these days. It’s probably because I’m a boy and she’s a girl. Even if we’ve been friends for a long time, she’s too cute for me to ignore. I think I like her. My heart beats faster when she’s around. I get nervous and fidgety. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s quite weird.

Winter's cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and excitement. Her curiosity took over her, she had to know. She had to know more. 

TUESDAY 7 NOVEMBER, 2023 I almost had a heart attack when I saw Minjeong with someone else. They were acting so friendly and I just felt my heart shrink. I’m not attractive compared to them. Maybe I should go to the gym. But that wouldn’t change my face, would it? Dear Diary, I really really like her.

“Wait, this is all about me?” Minjeong whispered to herself. She skimmed through the stupid entries and found even more pages about herself. She covered her mouth, blushing madly. “Oh my… I had no idea.” She couldn’t help but smile and continue flipping through the pages.

TUESDAY 14 NOVEMBER, 2023 Minjeong is back at it again. I’ve met her eyes a couple of times today and it was simply enchanting. The way her face lit up when our eyes connected mate my heart skipped a beat. She looks honest. Happy and amazing. I wish I could see her eyes every day, see every feeling in her pupils, knowing she wouldn’t be afraid to hide anything from me. Of course, I’d do the same. Minjeong is already a great friend, she’d be a great girlfriend as well. I thought about confessing for the first time. It was really a stupid thought. There is no way someone like her would accept me. I’m just a bum. I don’t even like myself, why would she? Eventually, someone will come and take her away, I just have to accept it. I love you, Minjeong.

WEDNESDAY 22 NOVEMBER, 2023 Am I a pervert for looking at Minjeong’s legs? My eyes were glued to her thighs. Maybe for a couple of minutes. Yeah, that’s definitely too much.

Minjeong glanced down at her shorts and bear legs and suddenly she felt too exposed. She regretted wearing such revealing clothes.

MONDAY 27 NOVEMBER, 2023 I want to love Minjeong properly. She’s such a perfect girl. I want her to feel loved. I’d cuddle and hug her a lot if she was my girlfriend. I daydreamed in class instead of listening to the literature lesson and this thought came to me: Minjeong backhugging me. That’s it. That’s the thought. It was enough to make me a blushing mess. Dear Diary, I have a problem.

Minjeong didn’t feel exposed anymore, she just felt warm and flustered. “You silly…” Minjeong said. She glanced around, making sure no one was watching, then hugged the diary close to her chest. “I never knew you felt this way…”

Fearing that you might be coming back, Minjeong thought that she had read enough and it was time to put it away. She just stood up and was about to put the diary back on the desk when a piece of paper fell out. It looked like it was sandwiched between the hardcover and the last page. She picked it up from the ground and read it.

BUCKET LIST Go on a date with Minjeong (skating?) Watch the starry sky Touch Minjeong’s cheeks Top marks Try skiing Confess Kiss MinHold Minjeong’s hand

Minjeong didn’t have the time to put it away when she heard your steps. She just stuffed the diary under the books and kept the paper in her pocket.

Minejong quickly recollected herself. She straightened out the few messy strands and the wrinkled clothes. She took a deep breath and shook off the agitation, anything could have been suspicious in your eyes. You weren’t dumb—although you weren’t exactly smart either—so Minjeong had to be extra careful. That said, she had to think of a way to put the little paper back in place because surely you would have noticed the next time you were going to write about how fantastic the latest wrestling match you watched was.

“Here you go,” you said, throwing Minjeong the box of pepero. “You had me looking everywhere for those… fortunately they were still good.”

Minjeong smiled, picking up the box from her lap, a natural grin on her small lips. “Thank you, you’re amazing.”

You had no words to reply but only another smile. You exhaled, letting your body drop lifeless on the bed, beside your friend. The episode was still at the 26:56 mark, and you were recollecting what happened previous to the still frame.

“Oh, by the way, I also got a bag of chocolates,” you said. You took the plastic bag you left on the corner of the folded covers. It was full of those little bite-sized chocolates you’d buy to decorate your tables in the living room when someone was coming over during the winter; or for a bunch of kids. But you got the smaller version, which also cost a couple of bucks more because it was of “fine quality”.

“No way!” she said, letting go of the pepero, forgotten like it never meant anything to her. You looked at the Oreo-looking box and blinked a few times. Why did it feel so relatable?

“You know I love chocolate!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I bought it,” you said. 

When you pressed the space bar on your laptop and the episode restarted, the room fell into a comfortable silence. You could only hear the dialogues coming from the speakers and Minjeong cutely munching on her peperos. You were grinning widely, having more fun staring at the hamster beside you than the scenes on the screen themselves.

Minjeong on the other hand, wasn’t exactly happy. Sure, the joy from her discovery was still lingering in her mind but so was the shock. The crunchy sticks of chocolate and biscuit took the roles of her nails, on which she nervously munched without stop, box after box. She would steal glances at you from time to time, and seeing you smile so happily, laughing and passionately talking to her, made her feel things she had never felt before.

She wasn’t sure if it was indigestion or butterflies in her stomach, but the thing was, Minjeong couldn’t focus on the screen at all. Her mind was still processing the revelations from the secret diary, she tried to act nonchalant, and fortunately, you couldn’t see her well, but her cheeks were betraying a faint blush.

“The cat is so round, it looks like a bag of potatoes, don’t you think?” you laughed.

“Y-yeah,” she whispered. Winter cleared her throat, “So, what do you think will happen next in the drama?”

“What do you mean? They’re like—they’re gonna kiss. Look at the romantic tension. I bet it’s gonna be a cliffhanger.”

“Right, right…” Minjeong continued to stare at the screen. Didn’t the protagonists kinda look like you and her…? She swore they were very similar at that moment. Somehow she could see herself in the shoes of the girl, while you could have been the protagonist, with that manly shoulders and features—ehem—you had the same eyes. Yes, that’s exactly what Minjeong was thinking, or at least, that’s what she wanted to think.

The protagonists, Ji-hoon and Soo-mi, stood close, their eyes filled with emotions, concealed, to the point of overflowing. Just like her and you.  Ji-hoon tenderly reached out, cupping Soo-mi's face in his hands. With a soft smile, he gently brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead, his touch lingering. His fingers looked very gentle, you always have been gentle too, maybe if it was you doing, it would feel… 

“Minjeong.”

“What?!” The girl squirmed lightly, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly self-aware. The romantic scene felt really closer than usual and her facade was slowly falling.

“I think it’s about to happen,” you said, still keeping your eyes attached to the screen. “They’re gonna kiss, I feel it.”

“Uh,” Minjeong started, terribly awkward. “These romantic scenes are always so... uh, intense, right?

“What do you…” you turned around and saw her heated cheeks. You looked at her and raised an eyebrow. The corner of her mouth twitched. “You're blushing, Minjeong. Are you sure you're okay?”

“Me? Blushing?” she fumbled. “No, I'm perfectly fine. It's just... you know, the drama.”

On the screen, the air crackled with tension as Ji-hoon kept cupping Soo-mi's face, his eyes searching hers for consent. Without words, their lips finally met in a tender yet passionate kiss. Time seemed to stand still as the world faded away, leaving only the sweet symphony of their hearts and the intoxicating warmth of the embrace.

Minjeong was watching everything but the kiss. 

“You're not usually this flustered,” you observed. Minjeong’s behavior was really weird. You looked back at the screen and it all looked normal. They were in their slowed-down shot with the ballad in the background.

“Yeah, well, it's just a really good episode,” she said, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You tried to look at her by bending down and tilting your head but likewise, she turned around to avoid you. It looked strange but you just continued to watch the drama, accepting her answer.

As the episode concluded, Minjeong heaved a silent sigh of relief. She attempted to divert attention by reaching for more snacks, hoping to distract both herself and you from the lingering awkwardness.

You continue to the next episode. 

You turned around and tried to get one of the snacks that were on her side. As you stretched, your hand brushed against Minjeong’s thigh. At the touch, she jolted with a loud gasp. It was like you sent a shock through her body.

“Oops, sorry about that,” you said apologetically, retrieving the box to your side.

“N-no problem at all,” she stammered.

You continued to watch without thinking much of it but Minjeong was completely on the edge. When you shifted and adjusted yourself, your leg would accidentally brush against hers. Or when you wanted to take the water bottle and you’d hug her shoulder by mistake. The blush on her cheeks continued to grow and she started to want to get out of there.

Your touches continued, all the ones that you were both accustomed to before, now sent a ripple of flustered nerves through Minjeong. 

Eventually, the episodes ended and you came to the end of the drama. Minjeong’s nerves finally relaxed. You helped her gather her things and after chatting for a while, you bid her goodbye. You insisted on bringing her home, especially since it was quite late but she didn’t want to hear any of it and ran outside.

Minjeong slept well that night. She had all sorts of dreams and fantasies—was someone in the hallway, they’d think an actress was rehearsing for her future role. When she woke up, however, it was another story. Thanks to the newly found clarity of mind, the realization hit her harder than ever.

You liked her.

You! You.

You liked her.

Minjeong sighed and sat up on the bed.

She liked you.

Yes, she.

She liked you.

Now she had two options: either ignore it, act like nothing happened, which was both the easiest and hardest choice she could take; or deal with it. Minjeong didn’t like the idea of ignoring what she found. It would be like playing with your feelings. Really, you confessed indirectly, she has read all of your honest words, letter by letter, and now knew all of your feelings. You confessed to her. 

But she also didn’t want to talk to you about it. Because, well, it was embarrassing. 

What if you didn’t feel ready for a relationship? Maybe your journal was an outlet for your stress where you poured out all of your feelings knowing full well you couldn’t be with her.

Maybe it wasn’t a journal, maybe it was a fictional diary that you were writing. Like some sort of diary of a wimpy kid but for lovers.

Maybe you were writing about another girl. You knew that someone could have found your diary, just like Minjeong did, so you used another name. You could have been in some sort of Romeo and Juliet type of affair and the repercussions could have been deadly.

Minjeong was just making stuff up at this point. Let’s face it, you were just a normal person and what she read were real journal entries. 

She sighed heavily. “Why?! Why did I…” she yelled. Minjeong closed her eyes and remembered your words—how sweet they were, how honest and meaningful—then shook her head. “It’s better this way.”

The piece of paper was still on the desk, crumbled and waiting. She got up and held it in her hand, skimming through your bucket list again.

BUCKET LIST Go on a date with Minjeong (skating?) Watch the starry sky Touch Minjeong’s cheeks Try skiing Top marks Confess Kiss MinHold Minjeong’s hand

She just ignored your last desire—the crossed-out line was still pretty readable but it was too embarrassing right now. You have helped her a lot until now, making most of the dreams from her bucket list come true. Yet, she has never had the chance to pay you back. Minjeong thought carefully and realized that this was the perfect occasion. She liked you so she would have liked it too and if you didn’t want to get into a relationship with her, at least she could fulfill a couple of your desires.

Minjeong clutched the paper with determinatione; it was her mission.

Objective 1: Secure the date

When Minjeong made up her mind and got up, two steps from the door of the room, she realized one thing: she had never been on a date. Such a pretty girl like Minjeong should have been asked out at least ten times by now. Especially since she wasn’t exactly shy or intimidating. And truly she had been asked out, but she never accepted. She’d say she had to focus on her studies, or that she wasn’t ready, or that it wasn’t the age for that kind of thing.

Minjeong turned while holding her chin, her eyebrow furrowed in deep thought. She had a location—the skating ring—that was a starter. But now, what do you do on a date? Minjeong tried to recall all the dramas she had watched: maybe she’d get some sort of idea. She has watched plenty of shows, surely there was something useful.

Characters would usually kiss each other ‘accidentally’ for example. Minjeong tried to imagine the scene: you and her walking in the frozen streets, her tripping and falling in your arms… some kids bumping into you, your lips brushing against her in a split second. Minejong started to blush terribly. “No, no, no, that’s not good,” she shook her head to get the thought out of her mind.

She was definitely overthinking this. You probably didn’t know any better than her and couples don’t really prepare that much before a date—it had to be natural. Minjeong decided to call you. There was a skating ring opened in the city during that period so that was the right occasion. 

She gripped her phone, inhaled and exhaled. “Just hanging out,” she pointed out. “That’s right, don’t stress Minjeong, it’s just a hangout between friends.” 

After Minjeong decided what to say and prepared all the possible dialogue options, which took about half an hour, she dialed your number and called. She couldn’t even calm her mind that you already picked up.

“Hello?” you asked.

“Hey,” Minjeong answered.

“Oh, Minjeong, how are you? Why are you calling me?”

“Well, I’ve got an idea for you.”

“Shoot.”

Minjeong swallowed her saliva. “How about we go skating at the ice rink? They opened it in the city center, I think it would be fun.”

“Skating, huh? Uhm… well, I’ve been thinking about it,” you said, you’ve been really thinking about it. It was such a weird coincidence that Minjeong asked you about it. However, “I haven’t done that in ages. Are you sure I won’t end up flat on my back?” You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of your crush.

Minjeong laughed jokingly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back… or, well, I’ve got your back if you do fall. But trust me, you’ll learn pretty quick.”

“Sounds tempting, but I’m not really convinced.”

“Come on, we’ll have fun. They also sell hot chocolate and crepes. I’ll buy it for you if you come!”

“Free food? Okay, you’ve convinced me. When do you wanna see each other?”

“How about Saturday? We should both be free.”

“Sounds good. Alright, thanks, see ya.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as she hung up, Minjeong started jumping around like a maniac. She felt like she was a kid again, so excited and happy. She just forgot to tell you at what time to come. Whatever. She could have texted the time later. Plans were just going as planned.

The plans did not go as planned.

Objective 2: Find a replacement

Minjeong spent her whole morning preparing for the date. She looked at all the possible cafés and restaurants and food places you two could go to in case you got hungry. Then she looked at all the possible outfits she had in her wardrobe. She called her friend, Karina to help her decide the clothes. They ended up giggling and talking for about 5 hours about Minjeong’s story with you and Karina’s love interest. 

In the end, they decided to go for the simplest sweater and pants they could find. It was to “not hide Minjeong’s natural beauty” as Karina put it. Whatever that meant.

You met right at the entrance of the city. You were already waiting there. 

You found it hard to recognize Minjeong. She was bundled up in a big cozy scarf, a huge hat, and big gloves. The jacket was also quite thick, making her look like a snowman. You knew Karina didn’t let her go out of the house before dressing her up properly. You smiled, she looked very cute.

The both of you made your way to the ice ring talking about uni, friends, work, and so on. Being with Minjeong was always a pleasure as you could confide in each other about whatever problem or worry you had.

Hand in hand, you scrolled through the city, the subtle crunch of snow beneath your feet providing a serene soundtrack. There were a lot of people on the street. You came early but the sky was already starting to darken. 

When you reached the ice rink, you gulped. Minjeong instead, was extremely excited. You paid for the skate shoes, slipped them in, and stepped on the ice. 

The ice beneath your skates glistened brightly, it felt like ice, ready to crack, ready to swallow you in case you fell and gave in to the demons of the cold. Minjeong was still excited. She was already laughing while looking at the small kids tumble down the ice like bowling pins. 

Wrapped in the warmth of your scarf and being alongside Minjeong, provided you enough confidence and comfort to aid your attempt. You stepped slowly, your legs shaking. Your friend held your hand and guided you through the edge of the ring until you found the right rhythm to continue on your own.

Your confidence grew, maybe too much, and you tried to make a tight turn and slipped. Your heart skipped a beat and your life flashed before your eyes. Fortunately Minjeong, with lighting reflexes, reached out and grabbed you. 

“Oh my god, thank you Minjeong, you saved my life.”

“Be more careful!” she laughed.

After the incident, you started to be more careful and continued skating. 

At one point, tiny snowflakes began to fall down the sky, soft and gentle. Both you and Minjeong started smiling brightly, thinking it looked like a scene from a romance movie. It really looked like what you’ve always dreamt of, skating with Minjeong under the snow.

The snowfall intensified, turning the ice rink into a snowy spectacle. It added a layer of magic to their already enchanting evening, and you continued to skate with carefree joy, leaving behind a trail of swirling snowflakes. However, as the snowfall grew heavier, the twinkling lights began to fade, and a voice over the speakers announced the temporary closure of the rink for safety reasons.

Minjeong panicked. She couldn’t end the date this way. 

“Isn’t that a shame?” you said, walking away from the ice ring. “Well, I still had fun nonetheless, thank you for today, Minjeong.”

“Wait, wait,” she interrupted you. “Uhm, it’s still pretty early, wanna go back to my place?”

“Heh? Well, why not? Wanna order out?”

“Yeah, that’s fine by me.”

“Then let’s go.” Good job, Minjeong.

Objective 3: Look at the sky

You entered the pitch-black living room and turned on the lights. The room was well-lighted but still felt small and comfy, it probably was the darkness from outside the window. You glanced at Minjeong as she folded a blanket and tossed it over the back of the sofa. The air held a chill, a reminder that winter had firmly settled outside the confines of your makeshift refuge. 

She nonchalantly dropped a stack of DVDs onto the coffee table, the worn covers hinting at countless movie nights spent in this room. Minjeong leaned over the desk, planting her hands on the edge. Minjeong's gaze shifted to you, What do you feel like watching?"

I shrugged, my gaze scanning the room as if the answer lay hidden in the faded wallpaper. "Anything. Surprise me." She picked a random DVD, its label scratched and worn. She put the disc into the blueray reader and grabbed the remote. The sofa creaked as Minjeong plopped down, patting the cushion next to her. "Grab a blanket. It's gonna get colder."

You complied, dragging a fuzzy throw from the back of a nearby chair. You two draped yourselves in layers of warmth, settling into the groove of the well-worn sofa cushions. The silence enveloped you, a familiar companion that required no words.

Halfway through the movie, however, Minjeong looked at the sky: it stopped snowing. It was like the snow had purged all the previous filth between the clouds and smog and left it a pure black, only decorated by the glowing stars. Minjeong kept slapping at your leg and pointing at the sky until you turned around and the view stunned you.

Objective 4: Hold that hand

“Wow…” your friend whispered.

“Yep,” you said back. The two of you continued to watch the sky, while Kung Fu Panda 2 was becoming noise in the background and your conversation shifted to the sight. You raised an arm, pointing at the bright dots.

“You know, the color of a star indicates its temperature,” you said. “Hotter stars appear blue or white, while cooler ones look red.”

“How is it red if it’s colder?” Minjeong said, puzzled.

“It’s about the waves of light emitted. To put it simply, cooler stars emit less blue light so they look red.”

Minjeong smiled, “That's interesting, but you know, in astrology, stars, and their positions also play a significant role. I'm a Capricorn, ruled by Saturn, and it says a lot about my personality.”

As soon as you heard the word ‘astrology’ you sighed heavily and rolled your eyes, sliding down the sofa. Minjeong has already filled your head with that stuff to the brim. Whenever she had time or whenever she bought a magazine from the news kiosk, she’d start reading the entire thing of the signs, you don’t even remember what it was called.

“Astrology, Minjeong? Seriously?”

Your friend furrowed her eyebrows from annoyance and spoke defensively, “What? It's fascinating! Capricorns are disciplined, ambitious, and practical. I mean, doesn't that sound like me?”

“Disciplined? Sure. But practical?” you laughed. “You're the one who believes in star signs.”

“Well, you're just a typical Capricorn skeptic. But I bet you secretly find it intriguing.”

You chuckled and shook your head. You two laughed it off and the silence resumed. After a brief moment, where your breaths signed the passing of time, you noticed Minjeong’s glow in the dark. Your heart fluttered as you watched her profile against the moonlight. Sometimes you forget your true feelings for your friend, but they always come back. 

You sighed while turning back to the sky. “It's such a beautiful night, isn't it?” you whispered, masking the true meaning of your words because you weren’t really talking about the night. Both of you talked in codes, not on purpose but none of you could be honest. You were too scared of her possible answer and Minjeong was too scared to lose you.

“Yeah, it is,” she said softly. As you continued stargazing in comfortable silence, her mind swirled with a mixture of emotions. The recent revelations from your secret diary still lingered in her thoughts, and her unspoken feelings were twisting and turning inside her. 

Her hand slowly crept up near you, a subconscious action maybe, a planned incident perhaps; but it was the perfect occasion. You felt her touch and didn’t think twice to hold her hand. The initial contact, when your fingers intertwine, sends a wave of warmth through you. The touch is surprisingly intimate, it felt like a bridge between Minjeong and you. In a way, her feelings were coursing through you.

Objective 5: Spill it out

“Today was perfect,” you say. Minjeong silently watches you with a soft smile. “You know, I’ve always been dreaming of this moment. To watch the stars with you…” your air suddenly blocked in your throat, “Well, I—” “I already know.”

“What?”

“I already knew it. That you wanted to watch the stars—and that you wanted to go skating… with me.”

You opened your mouth to ask her how but Minjeong was faster and pulled out the crumbled piece of paper, the title ‘BUCKET LIST’ was still visible. You panicked, your eyes flicking between her stupidly satisfied smile and your embarrassing, horribly written list of desires.

You gulped and started talking, stuttering, mumbling every word, “S-so did you see the di-diary?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god… I wanna die.”

“No, wait—”

“Forget everything Minjeong, no, well, you obviously can’t,” you blurted out, you didn’t know what to say anymore. “I’m sorry you had to read that. It was gross. I’m going to move out of the country, buy tickets, pack things, you’ll forget about me and I’ll start my new life—”

“I like you too!”

“What did you just say?” you stopped and looked at her with wide eyes.

Minjeong's admission hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound between you two was the soft rustling of the crumpled bucket list paper in her hands. Your eyes widened, locked onto hers, searching for any sign of jest or misdirection, but all you found was true sincerity. Her pupils stared at you, eagerly waiting for your answer.

"You... you like me too?" you stammered, hesitant and scared that you might have heard the wrong words.

Minjeong nodded, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Yes. I like you. I read your list, and it wasn't gross. It was... endearing. Honestly, it made my heart race a little."

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, a mixture of relief and newfound anxiety. "I thought I'd scared you away with that stuff."

Minjeong chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not at all. It made me realize we share the same dreams, the same desires. I've been wanting to do those things too, you know?"

The weight of uncertainty lifted, replaced by a warmth that settled deep within. You felt a connection, a shared vulnerability that made the revelation less daunting. "So... what does this mean?" you asked, your voice soft.

She leaned in, her gaze unwavering. "It means we don't have to dream about those things anymore. We can make them happen together."

A grin broke across your face, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. "Yeah, together."

Minjeong's hand found yours, and this time, it wasn't just for a casual touch but a deliberate, reassuring connection. The stars above seemed to twinkle in approval as you both sat there, hand in hand, in the quiet realization that your shared dreams weren't just fantasies on a crumpled piece of paper anymore—they were possibilities waiting to unfold.

“There’s still a last wish on that list I can fulfill…” Minjeong whispered. She took a deep breath and went for it. 

She kissed you.

Minjeong's eyes, soft and inviting, met yours, and at that moment, the world outside faded into insignificance. 

"I've been wanting to do this," Minjeong whispered, her voice a delicate murmur that hung in the space between you. Her fingers grazed the side of your face, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down your spine. The proximity between you became charged, the magnetic pull undeniable.

You didn't need words. The unspoken agreement lingered in the air, and with a gentle tilt of her head, Minjeong closed the distance. The first brush of her lips against yours felt like the tentative caress of a butterfly's wings, a delicate exploration that spoke volumes. It was a moment of hesitancy and boldness, a dance between vulnerability and longing.

You didn’t say anything else, the look in your and her eyes understood each other perfectly and you kissed again. The first one was a quick peck, a mix of fear and sudden braveness. The second one was the overflow of your feelings, a long and deep kiss, a slow fusion of warmth and connection. 

The world outside might have continued its relentless pace, but within the embrace of that kiss, time became elastic, bending to the rhythm of your shared heartbeat. It was a stolen moment, a stolen kiss, and yet, it felt like something long overdue, as if the universe itself had conspired to bring your lips together in this tender collision.

When the kiss finally broke, your lips naturally curled into a large smile while she hid under the blanket from the embarrassment. Minjeong emerged only a moment later, red and flustered. “Uhm, I wasn’t too bad, right? That was my first kiss…”

“It was my first too, and no, it wasn’t bad. It was amazing,” you said honestly. “I just like how I dreamed.”

Minjeong and you laughed together. This was just the start of the many more desires you two would fulfil together.

Mission completed

THE END

Written, 03 December 2023 - 14 December 2023

[nofingjustaninchident]

Hi, I just read your two Jason fics and I love them. Could you write a daughter of Poseidon x Jason and maybe Percy being a overprotective brother. Thanks. Love you

⛧° jason grace x daughter of poseidon! reader hcs °⛧

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: jason grace x daughter of poseidon! reader, platonic!percy jackson x reader

warnings:

a/n: guys, i reached 100 likes with just two posts omg you're amazing!!! so, i kinda got a few other requests waiting, but they’re TOO good to make just headcannons or to be poorly written, so they’ll take a little while longer to be posted. nothing much, tho (i hope). enjoy!

Protective is an understatement.

Percy is literally the most protective brother ever, even if you're just one year younger than him.

He feels as if he's job to protect you from everything and everyone that could possibly think about hurting you.

So when you started hanging out more with him and his friends, he couldn't have made it more clear to all of them that you were completely and totally off limits.

But did this silly little rule stop Jason to date you?

Of course it did!

My baby is just too obedient and such a rule follower... poor boy

Anyways, you had to make the first move.

Even with that, he was pretty hesitant to do anything such as holding hands in public.

In reality, he wasn't afraid of Percy, he just didn't want the other boy to get mad with him.

So, one day, you called both Percy and Jason to have a very serious conversation in the Poseidon cabin.

Percy was, as usual, completely clueless about anything, so he just babbled with Jason.

Who, by the way, was a complete mess of blushing and stuttering.

You obviously thought it as endearing, cause it really was.

"You're probably wondering why i called you here today." you said, a wicked smile on your face.

Percy was hugged with his plushie (you had matching shark plushies, Dory and Nemo) while Jason wanted to dig a hole in the floor and never come back from it.

"What's up, sis? If it's something to do with missing chocolate, i have nothing to do with it." The dark haired boy said, smiling.

Little did he knew that smile was gonna fade in three seconds.

"Me and Jason, we're dating." You said, quickly.

Percy's face fell.

"W-what?" He asked, his eyes darkening.

"We're dating. Like, boyfriend and girlfriend."

"So... you're dating Jason. Not Leo?" Percy asked.

"No, why would i date Leo-" You were cut off by a grateful sigh coming from your brother's mouth.

"Thanks the gods. As long as it's not Leo, i can handle it."

Jason turned to him for the first time, as if he wasn't even believing the words he just heard.

"Just... break her heart and i'll break your neck." Percy said with a threatening smile and patted Jason's back, leaving the cabin.

Alright, enough of the Jackson drama, back to Blond Superman.

He's the literal sweetest person alive.

He👏🏼learnt👏🏼 how 👏🏼to 👏🏼swim👏🏼 for👏🏼 ya

Bro's whipped

And he took Percy's words as his life rules

He made his best to make you happy whenever you're with him

Like, literally anytime

Once you cried next to him cause a fish didn't talk to you (it was a plastic fish, but you were on ur period, okay?)

He literally took you to the beach so you could chat and gossip with the real fishes

And you were so happy he nearly melt at that sight

That's when he knew he had fell in love with you

Romantic dates EVERY WEEK

He bribes the Demeter kids to give him your favorite flowers every once in a while

He always keeps some sort of physical touch, doesn't matter if he's holding your waist, your hands, touching pinkies

You got the point

He's just too madly in love

For him, you're the most beatiful, unique, hot, perfect, powerful, hot, smart, hot, strong, HAVE I MENTIONED HOT, person in the whole world

Literally, he would kiss your feet if you asked him to

He's glad you don't, actually

He stopped eating anything that comes from the marine animals after you got together.

Like, absolutely anything

Oh, and i've mentioned this on a previous hc, but he literally pays for absolutely ✨everything✨

Like, honey, don't even come near your wallet

Oh, and he buys you lots of gifts constantly

From plushies to books to makeup to sketch books in case you like drawing

And he's totally a languages guy

And with your ADHD and dyslexia, he helps you a lot

And you help him with maths.

Of course, he always has a nickname for you.

"Hey, mermaid?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."