#(I almost forgot to tag you in this sorry about that I kinda just woke up ^^’ )

[gothamghostwhispers]

A text from BB

:uh h-hey I uh "like" you too! Uhm i uh wh-what brought this on?

:…you’re sure that’s your feelings and not mine..? ……Right?

: I haven’t been doing a very good at not feeling things around you when we hang out… I wanted to tell you but I wanted to wait till after your thesis so I didn’t distract you from your schooling

[ @bugboi-of-gotham ]

[sebuckyverse]

for a good time, call [2]

modern!rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson is a burnt out rockstar, touring the country. When he finds a phone number written on a bathroom wall, he strikes an unusual friendship with a coffee shop barista who has no idea who he is.

warnings: 18+ cussing, m!masturbation, eddie jerks off, smoking, flirting, pining kinda, a cliffhanger, strangers to friends to lovers word count: 3,3k

an: part 2 guys! i hope you like it. don't forget to reblog or leave a comment :p don't come at me for the ending x_x ps! some of you couldn't be tagged :( say hi to Robin's lover @ceriseheaven

chapter one ♫ masterlist

chapter two ♫♪♩·..·

Eddie woke up to his phone buzzing continuously on his nightstand. Blinking the sleep away from his eyes, he reaches over to grab the device, the blue light far too bright for how early it still was, the digits on his homescreen reading 6.14am. He had three missed calls from his manager and two from his drummer. Eddie sat up on the bed and begrudgingly called his manager back.

''Where the hell are you, Munson?'' his manager, James, heckled.

''Good morning to you too,'' Eddie yawned.

''We had agreed to a meeting 15 minutes ago.''

Oh, Eddie remembered. It would be a lie to say he accidentally forgot to set an alarm. Who holds meetings this early anyway. ''Look man, I overslept. I'm tired and I don't want to meet. You can say whatever you want, right here.''

James huffed and puffed on the other side, before relenting. ''Ed, we need to discuss the future. Tour's about to end and we need to announce something sooner or later.''

Eddie could feel his nostrils flare. ''There is nothing to announce. Every normal artist takes a break after a big tour.''

''Well, you're not exactly normal, Eddie.'' Ouch, Eddie has a quick flashback to his high school days. ''Besides, you signed a contract with management for 60 shows this year. We're only half way there. That means, you need to do more shows later in the year.''

''I'm not doing shit. I'm burnt the fuck out, I need a break.'' Eddie bit back, his other fist clenched on his side.

''That sucks, but this is the business. You can take a break after you fulfill your contract, that was the deal and you know that. I'll have the team send out an announcement that the tour is extended.''

Eddie felt helpless, driven to a corner. He knew the contract he signed and the penalties that come with it if he broke it. That's not something he thought about when he put his signature on the paper - this was his dream, what he was born to do. The more time passed, the more bits and pieces of him went missing. Everybody wanted something, needed something from him. No one thought about what Eddie might need. If he was tired, he was being offered drugs to vamp up his system, get him going again. If he was lonely, there was a line of girls (and guys) outside his dressing room. He indulged in it for a while, but soon that wasn't enough either.

''Whatever, man.'' Eddie hung up the phone and stared at the screen, the light illuminating his sunken eyes, the heavy bags under his eyes. Almost in a haze, Eddie found himself searching up Wayne's number from his contacts and clicking call. The line rang a few times until it clicked. It was silent at first, until Eddie heard the distinctly gruff voice of his uncle, instantly filling him with warmth and the obvious guilt.

''Ed? That you?'' Wayne's voice was low, like he had just woken up which might have been the case, Eddie didn't even think about what time it was in Indiana.

''Y-yeah. Shit, I'm sorry, I-I didn't think about the time difference. Fuck you were probably sleeping, shit, we can talk later, I can-'' Eddie was rambling, embarrassed. It was awkward, he hadn't spoken to his uncle in months.

''Stop, stop. It's fine. Are you all right?'' Wayne interrupted before his nephew ended the call, losing him again.

''Yeah, of course.'' Eddie lied, and Wayne knew that but he didn't want to push too much. ''J-just wanted to check in, I guess.''

''Have you been getting my messages?''

''I have, yeah. Been busy, you know...'' Eddie replied quietly, his voice shaking. He wanted to explode, tell Wayne everything, he would know what to do. He always did. But Eddie wasn't ready to hear the truth yet.

''Are you sure you're alright, son? You don't sound like yourself.''

Eddie panicked. ''Yeah, definitely. Living the dream, eh? Look I, um, have to go. It was good to hear your voice though.''

''Ed, don't hang up-''

''Talk to you soon, bye!'' Eddie hung up the call and let the phone drop from his hands like it had burnt him. He walked over to the minibar and fetched a mini size tequila, downing it in one go, hoping the burn in his throat would distract him from the ache in his heart.

.•♫•♬•

It had been a fairly quiet day at work so far. Robin was currently attending to customers, taking their orders while you were sweeping tables and cleaning up the empty coffee cups, bringing them to the back and loading them into the dishwasher. It was only the two of you at the café today.

Robin joined you in the back, keeping an eye out for the front as well. ''Hey, I have a favor to ask.''

''Shoot,'' you shot back where you were arranging the cups in the machine.

''I was wondering if you could close by yourself today. Cherry's taking me to a concert today. It's a few hours away and we might be late if we don't leave sooner.'' Robin looked at you with pleading eyes. Normally, you wouldn't agree so easily, but considering the lack of business today, you figured it wouldn't be too much hassle. Cherry was Robin's... friend. They've really hit it off since meeting at the bar four days ago and to her credit, she did drag both of your asses home that night, so bonus points for that. It probably won't be too long until one of them gets on with it to make it official. From what you've heard from Robin, Cherry is super fun, adventurous, funny and can't keep her hands to herself, which you could've lived without knowing to be honest.

''Ooh, is this your first proper date?'' you smirk, getting up and leaning against the machine.

Robin's cheeks flush pink. ''Yes. I'm really excited!''

''Hmm. Of course you can go, I can finish up here myself. Next time you have to introduce us though, I mean properly. When I'm not wasted.''

''Thank you! I will!'' Robin pulls you into a crushing hug, smacking a kiss to your forehead.

''What concert are you going to, anyway?'' you ask when she pulls away to gather her things, ripping her apron off.

''I actually don't know, it's some rock or metal concert. Not my style, you know that.''

''Well, have fun!'' you shout after her, watching her leave through the back door. Thankfully it was only an hour 'til closing time, so you made your way back to the front and kept yourself busy until then. At one point, your phone vibrated with a new message in your pocket. You were surprised to see it was from your new friend with a fake name, Kirk.

06.37pm - Kirk ''Hi. How are you?''

06.38pm - Kiwi ''I'm good, thanks. What about you?''

06.38pm - Kirk ''I'm fine. Sorry I've been MIA, it's work.''

06.38pm - Kiwi ''That's okay :) What do you do anyway?''

It takes a couple of minutes for him to reply, making you wonder if you didn't scare him off somehow. That didn't seem like too personal of a question, you thought.

06.42pm - Kirk ''I work in entertainment.''

Well that was vague, that could mean anything.

06.42pm - Kiwi ''Are you a porn star? I've always wanted to meet one, I have so many questions.''

06.43pm - Kirk ''Not that kind of entertainment, sorry. What kind of questions though?''

06.44pm - Kiwi ''I'd rather not say. Do you enjoy what you do, though?''

06.46pm - Kirk ''I used to.''

06.47pm - Kiwi ''What changed?''

06.48pm - Kirk ''A lot of things, some that I wasn't prepared for.''

06.49pm - Kirk ''Listen, I have to go. It's work. I'll text you again in a few hours?''

06.50pm - Kiwi ''Sure.''

.•♫•♬•

Eddie was sitting in a car after the show, going back to the hotel. His hands were still clammy for playing guitar for 1,5 hours and his hair was sticking to his face. His eyes were closed as he focused on the motion of the vehicle moving. It didn't take long until he reached the hotel where he would be staying for tonight and climbed out, dragging his duffel bag over his tense shoulder and sauntered to the front desk.

Filling in his contact info, the brunette behind the counter batting his eyelashes when handing him his room card. ''Room 412, mr. Munson. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.''

Eddie gave the girl a tight lipped smile and grabbed his key card. ''Thank you.''

As he was standing in the elevator, he thought about how the girl at the front desk was basically offering herself to him yet it made him feel nothing. It was a scary thought. Was he this far gone? He couldn't remember the last time he had sex, or jacked off. The exact same time the elevator dinged when reaching his floor, like a lightbulb going off, Eddie realized that the only positive feelings or thoughts he's had in months, have come from interacting with you.

Reaching his room, Eddie threw his bag next to the door and kicked off his boots. He shrugged off his clothes, a trail of fabrics leading from he door to the bathroom. He took a quick shower and strolled to his bed, plopping onto the fresh sheets butt naked and dug through his jeans for a pack of cigarettes, fumbling around until the found the singular joint he had stuffed in with the regular smokes. He lit the joint and took a slow drag, humming to the familiar tangy taste, letting the effects of the drug engulf his overused brain.

Eddie sat on the bed in complete silence, eyes closed. He could only hear the water dripping from his shower. Opening his eyes, he didn’t have to cast a look down to see that he was hard, stiff cock nestled against the tiny pudge of his stomach. Which was to be expected, getting high always made him horny. It’s why he’s cut back recently too, horny or not, he just wasn’t interested in fucking random people anymore and his fist wasn’t doing it for him either.

Right now, however, he couldn’t ignore the ache in his groin. With a sigh, Eddie dropped on his back, feet anchored to the carpeted floor. Wrapping a tentative fist around himself, he gave a couple tugs to test the waters. It sent shivers down his spine, so he continued. Letting go for a moment to spit into his palm, Eddie pumped himself harder, squeezing at the base then running his thumb over the slit, rubbing his pre-cum over the head. His chest was heaving, eyes shut as sparks of pleasure washed over him. He moaned into the silence as the pressure in his belly became too much too quick and sparks soared into a flame as he came all over his fist and abdomen, thick thighs shaking in the process.

.•♫•♬•

You were now back at your apartment, scanning the cupboards for the forgotten pack of Oreos you know you had somewhere. Cursing under your breath, you settled on a glass of white wine and made your way back to your bathroom where the steaming bubblebath was waiting for you to jump in. You set your glass on the closed toilet seat where you could reach it and dropped your towel to climb in the water. You relaxed your head against the edge, your hair held up high and hummed along to the music you set up from your speaker.

It took about ten minutes before your phone dinged with a new message. At this hour, there was only one person who would be texting you - unless it was Robin with an emergency. But it wasn’t her.

01.12am - Kirk “Hey, you still up?”

01.12am - Kiwi “Yep, I’m taking a bath.”

01.13am - Kirk “This late?”

01.14am - Kiwi “I do it all the time when I don’t work the next day. It’s a routine.”

01.14am - Kirk “That’s cool. How was your day?”

01.14am - Kiwi “Slow, you?”

“01.15am - Kirk “Hectic. What do you do for work, by the way?”

01.15am - Kiwi “I’m a barista at a coffee shop.”

01.15am - Kirk “Make a mean espresso then?”

01.15am - Kiwi “Oh yeah, you should try it.”

The wine was making you a bit more forward than usual. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

01.16am - Kirk “Would love to. Tell me something about yourself.”

01.16am - Kiwi “Like what?”

01.17am - Kirk “Anything.”

You thought about it for a moment, almost dropping your phone in the water as the steamy air made your hands clammy.

01.19am - Kiwi “I’m an Aquarius, my favorite fruit is kiwi (surprising I’m sure) and my chosen past time is readying smutty books. Your turn!”

01.20am - Kirk “I was raised by my uncle and I love reading too, but I’m too scared to ask what smutty means.”

01.20am - Kiwi “Don’t even worry about it. Raised by your uncle, he sounds like a great man.”

01.21am - Kirk “He is. Where do you live?”

01.22am - Kiwi “Not sure I should be telling a stranger.”

01.22am - Kirk “I thought we were friends? :(“

01.23am - Kiwi “Fine, but don’t come kidnapping me. I live in New York.”

01.24am - Kirk “Despite my kidnapper look, I’m more of a wine and dine guy.”

01.25am - Kiwi “I might be into the kidnapper look.”

Oh shit, was that too forward?

01.27am - Kirk “Really? People used to call me horrible names because of my look.”

01.28am - Kiwi “I’m sorry, what did they call you? No pressure.”

01.28am - Kirk “Mostly just freak.”

01.29am - Kiwi “Well, I like freaky, so..”

01.30am - Kirk “I might have to test that.”

You were surprised how easily you fell into flirting with a complete stranger to be honest. You kept switching between talking about random stuff and flirting. You learned that he was kind of a nerd in high school, he used to play some board game you didn’t know and he confessed that his favorite band is Metallica (didn’t take a genius to figure that out). You told him about your childhood cat that went missing one night, how you started your job as a barista and what your favorite cocktail is. You thought about asking him about calling instead, as texting was pretty tiring but decided to leave that for another time.

You came out of your bubble when you noticed the water had gone cold, your wine glass sitting empty on the tile next to the tub. You wished Eddie a good night and promised to text him tomorrow. You quickly dried off, chuckling at your wrinkly fingers and toes and put on a pair of comfortable panties, jumping under the covers. Your eyes were at half mast but the sleep didn’t come yet. You were still thinking about Kirk, rubbing your thighs together simply at the memory of him. This hole thing was so unusual, you knew some things about him now, but had no idea what he looked like or what his real name was. You had a picture in your head, but it was vague. You didn’t imagine his face or his body, but more his aura, his energy. It might sound extremely naïve, but he gave off good vibes and he made you feel nice. As you finally drifted off to sleep, it was to the thoughts of him only.

When you woke up the next morning, the skies were gray and rain was tapping against your windows. That turned your original plans of taking a walk later today upside down. You checked the time on your phone, where it read nearly 11am with a good morning text.

09.16am - Kirk ''Good morning, I hope you have a good day. Let me know what you get up to :)''

You'd text him back later, as the grumbling of your stomach was a more pressing issue at the moment.

Once you were stuffed full of eggs, bacon and a glass of apple juice, you decided to do some fall shopping. You visited your go-to stores and ended your day in your favorite bookstore, sitting in the small café area sipping chamomile tea and taking a bite out of a chocolate croissant. Then you remembered you had an unanswered text.

2.14pm - Kiwi ''Hey, sorry for the late reply. Promise I didn't forget you!''

2.18pm - Kirk ''Good, I was starting to get worried.''

2.19pm - Kiwi ''Why, you miss me already? 😉''

2.20pm - Kirk ''Yes.''

You swallowed thickly at his admission. It was weird that he missed you, you didn't even know each other's names. It was weird that you were unashamedly flirted with him. It was weird, because you didn't mind it all. And it was definitely weird, that your tummy fluttered. You blamed it on the tea.

2.22pm - Kirk ''I'm sorry if that freaked you out. I like talking to you, a lot.''

2.23pm - Kiwi ''Don't apologize, I like talking to you, too. What would you think about calling?''

.•♫•♬•

Eddie knew this would come eventually, he had even thought about it himself. He was prepared for it, yet when the question came, he froze. He was rigid, like he was standing on cracked ice and he might fall in any second. He'd just come back from a radio interview, where he was grilled about any updates he might have. With a sour taste in his mouth and the fakest smile he could muster, he announced more tour dates and listed the name of cities they were going to play.

He'd grown more comfortable with you, texting you took his mind off everything else, it was something he was looking forward to more and more every day. He'd also be a liar if he said that you in a bathtub didn't spawn some inappropriate thoughts in his head. You seemed to enjoy his online company too. But what if you recognized him as soon as you heard his voice? Not that he was so presumptuous to assume everybody knew him or his music. What if you'd go googling his name? There are definitely things on there that he regrets doing, most of them even, and things that weren't true.

He was tempted to hear your voice, though. He chose to be honest.

2.30pm - Kirk ''I'm scared.''

2.30pm - Kiwi ''Of what? We don't have to, if you don't want.''

2.31pm - Kirk ''I do want to, really. I'm just kind of.. known.''

Eddie despised the word 'famous' or any other form of that.

2.32pm - Kiwi ''Are you famous?''

Cringe.

2.33pm - Kirk ''Kind of.''

2.35pm - Kiwi ''Are you scared that I might recognize you?''

2.36pm - Kirk ''Yes, I've done some things I'm not proud of.''

2.37pm - Kiwi ''I don't care about that. I know nothing about the celebrity world, so I probably wouldn't recognize you anyway (no offence).''

Eddie chuckled, he felt a bit better about this now.

2.38pm - Kirk ''None taken.''

2.40pm - Kirk ''Can I call you tonight?''

.•♫•♬•

You were lounging on your bed, legs crossed at the ankles with a new book you'd bought earlier sitting on your lap. You had been reading the same page for the last 15 minutes, your eyes sneaking looks at your phone, face down on the bed, taunting you. Thank God you didn't have to go to work tomorrow either, it was almost 2am.

You were waiting for his call. You figured you still had a few minutes to spare, putting your book down and swinging your legs over the side of your bed. Then the phone rang, your heart almost bursting out of your chest. You turned back and flipped your phone, seeing his fake name across the screen. You picked it up, the device vibrating violently.

''Hello?''

[halucynator]

Hi Lucy! I just had the worst nightmare of my life. I had a dream where I had stage 2 leukemia and I was wondering if you could do a FIC for Theodore comforting g reading after a nightmare?

Dirty dreams

Pairing: Theodore Nott x gn!reader (idk if that's what you meant by g reader but I'm assuming you did)

I know you really wanted a long one, but I'm so sorry! I really didn't know how to lengthen it without making it a drag x hope it's to your liking I swear swear swear I'll make the other ones long!!, I kinda lost inspo as well lmao 💖

Warnings: like mentions of sexual stuff ig (literally one like when I say dirty dreams) lmk if there are any more

Summary: Reader has a nightmare and Theodore is ready with cuddles.

A/n: first of all, I'm really sorry this happened to you 💕 nightmares honestly suck xx hope this makes you feel better <3

Reader has past with cancer (they don't but someone close to them does) bc I thought it would make it more terrifying.

You woke up with a start. You looked around your dorm room, your body drenched in sweat. Wow. That was one vivid dream. Or nightmare. Your breathing was heavy. The demon that was cancer still haunted your dreams to this day.

"Hey babe, are you okay?" Theo said as he rubbed his eyes. You forgot he was there and jumped at the sudden voice.

"Oh uh yeah. Just had a nightmare." You replied, your breathing more stable.

"What about?" Theo asked as he sat up in bed and shuffled closer to you.

"Nothing. Just... I had stage 2 leukemia." You almost whispered.

"Oh! I'm so sorry." He replied.

"It's not your fault." You said.

"No I know. But, you know with your sister almost dying because of it I can understand how terrifying it must've been." He answered.

Your face dropped. The memories flooded back. You witnessed it happening. It scared you to death.

"sorry... I shouldn't bring it up." He apologized quickly.

"No it's fine!" You replied reassuringly smiling at him.

Your breathing became heavy again as the nightmares came back in flashes.

Theodore pulled your closer and wrapped you in a hug.

"Shh... It's okay. It's not real." He replied comfortingly.

Tears began clouding your eyes. That awfully realistic dream mixed with the awful memories was the worst combination to say the least. You breathed in.

"Do you want me to read to you?" He asked knowing reading always calmed you down.

You slowly nodded.

He got a book and started narrating it to you. It made you burst out in laughter whenever he made a sarcastic comment on the book.

Slowly, you began to calm down. Your heartbeat slowed. You took deep breaths. One of theo's hands was holding the book as the other caressed your hair. You calmed down at his touch.

You snuggled closer to him till your face was on the crook of his neck. As you breathed in the smell of Theo's signature cologne as well as peppermint and lilacs you felt a wave of serenity wash over you.

Your eyes grew heavy as Theo's narrative flooded your brain. Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep with your head on Theo's shoulder.

After that, you didn't have any nightmares. All you had were dreams. Dirty dreams. Filled with images of a certain chestnut haired boy.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

Tagging @annaisabookworm bc of their post asking to be tagged in all Theo and Mattheo fics <3

[copias-sewer-rat]

THE BLOOD DROPPING FROM THE DARK ROSE IS ALWAYS THE SWEETEST

How can a place feel like a home after only one day?

This monster has almost 10.5K words. I have never written so much for a chapter… wow. NSFW +18 minors DNI!!

Warning of probably bad translated Italian, I am so sorry. Kudos to Reverso Context I guess for the translations.

> Tags: Female oral receiving, p in v, a bit of sub Copia but also sometimes dom (you will see), unprotected sex, female masturbation.

>read on Ao3&lt;

>my masterlist&lt;

PART 1|PART 2|PART 3|PART 4|PART 5

Enjoy!

V. SWEET DREAMS (ARE MADE OF THIS)

You woke to the sound of birds singing on Thursday. Well rested and with a very heavy weight on top of you. Copia was snoring like a cartoon character —kinda like ‘sho-mimimimi’— and it made you chuckle. You weren’t so subtle with your amusement as Copia stirred awake to your laughter.

“Buongiorno, colombella mia (good morning my little pigeon). Something the matter?” Copia spoke with a deep morning voice that made your stomach flutter.

“Not much… You snore funny, like a Scooby-Doo character.” You confessed, nudging yourself closer to his chest.

“Well, at least it made you laugh… even if it is a bit embarrassing.” Copia blushed.

“Actually, I think it is cute, very cute in fact, the cutt-” Suddenly, Copia’s lips were on top of yours, kissing you hungrily and you kissed back, not caring about your morning breath. Copia brushed his tongue against your lips and you let him in without protest. Your tongues danced and explored each other’s mouths so deliciously that you could have died happily there and then on his arms.

You made out for a few minutes until you were out of air. Copia gave you a small kiss to your temple and then rested his head on the pillow.

“Cara, now I remember that forgot to tell you something…” You looked up, your forehead brushing Copia’s chin.

“Yeah?”

“Two things actually, pretty important.” You nodded, a bit worried that it had to do with Tebbit. “The first is that the pigeons are perfectly fine and content. Actually, I was checking on them when your friend Sam called me.” You hid your face on Copia’s neck, not wanting to remember the previous day in the slightest. However, you were happy to hear that the little birds were doing ok. At least someone was.

“And the other thing?” Copia looked at you with a warm smile, rays of sun hitting his face making him look almost ethereal.

“I forgot to invite you to tomorrow’s concert, how silly of me. Will you come?” You stood silent for a moment, afraid of making the wrong decision. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, you were eager to hear Copia sing live, to experience a Ghost ritual, but there was also the unavoidable presence of the unknown danger. If Tebbit tried to do anything against the church, it would probably be happening during the concert. Despite that, you trusted Copia with all you heart, that was all that mattered for now. Maybe your heart was clouding your mind. Sorry Matty.

“Of course I will, you silly.” You laughed, trying not to show your worry, but Copia frowned.

“What is it? You are not being truthful, cara. I can see it.” You cursed his sixth sense of whatever the heck was that he had that could read you like an open book.

“I am just worried about Tebbit. There is a big possibility that he will try to hurt you during the concert. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you Copia, please. Just…” If he truly could know your thoughts, he gave you the clearest proof in that precise moment.

“I promise that everything will be fine. I promise that you and I and everyone there will be safe. I promise that I won’t let that nasty priest get close to you.” He chanted like a mantra while holding your hands in his. His eyes were shinning with the morning light, contrasting his dark eye makeup with a truthfulness behind his words that made your heart ache. You gently smiled, touching his nose with your finger, just a tiny bop.

“I know… you precious little rat lover.” He laughed at the nickname.

“Rat lover, that I am, I cannot say I am not, very proud of it actually. Now… little, I am far from that, cara.” Copia said with a lustful tone that made your core ache in need and your cheeks flush. “Now that I think about it…“ Copia pondered “I will need to introduce you to my adorable cheese-lovers.” He added without even expanding on his previous comment, making you all flustered and bothered, just like he wanted. Cardinal Copia was an evil man in some ways you had decided then and there, but you liked that about him. It made you think of all the ways he could make you feel like that afterwards, all bothered and flustered and needy just for him. You would surely enjoy and hate it all at the same time. “We will need to leave the introductions for another time, though. We both have things to do.”

“Sure…” You exhaled, too comfortable in his arms to even dare to move.

“I need to get back to my room and get ready for the day. I recommend you do the same. You have clean clothes and a shower you can use through that door.” Copia explained, pointing to the other door in the room that wasn’t the exit. Nonetheless, his explanation wasn’t only for you, it was a conscious reminder for him as well. A plea for him to remember that he had a schedule to follow, even if it was the last thing he wanted to follow in that moment, following you into your need, your lust… that was the only thing he wanted to do. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice.

“Before that, I wanted to ask you something…” Since yesterday, there had been something bugging you. As Matty said, you could not trust Copia completely until he told you the whole truth. Now it was time for him to prove to you that he was being truthful. “Yesterday, when I went to get the flowers with your ‘assistants’, they mentioned something that made me worry a bit, something about having been chosen… by you.” Copia’s face suddenly tensed, all the wires on his mind running a mile per hour trying to find an answer that would satisfy you.

“I will need to talk to those maledetti demoni (fucking ghouls). Si, it is true, I haven’t told you something but… will you allow me until the end of the day to think about how to tell you? It is nothing bad, I promise, but I need to come up with the right words.” You nodded, a bit conflicted. He was really hiding something from you, his real intentions perhaps. Nonetheless, Copia still wanted to explain himself and that was more than the people you were used to did so you were willing to give him the chance. “I can tell you over dinner, if you will have me.” Copia offered and you exhaled in jokingly exasperation.

“Yeah, sure. But I don’t know where anywhere is in this… Ministry? You will have to come and fetch me from… I don’t even know where I will be working today.” You laughed and motioned exaggeratedly trying not to hit Copia with your movements.

“Vero (true), you first take a good shower and get ready, someone will come to pick you up.” Copia spoke, reluctantly getting up from the bed, looking back at your laying form with puppy eyes. For sure he was hopping that you would tell him to come back to it, but both of you really needed a shower.

“Okie dokie, handsome. I will see you later then.” You flirted with a wink and you swore you saw some steam come out of Copia’s already red ears.

“Y-yeah. Have a very good morning, cara. I will be hard! I MEAN I WILL WORK HARD!” You laughed at his antics, still on the bed, so deliciously spread before him. He damned himself for having duties and responsibilities. “BYE!” He said in a very loud tone as he exited the room, closing the door with a very loud crash as very quick steps, almost like running, followed.

————

You got ready, loving the warmth of the shower and how it relieved your aching muscles. Under the water your thoughts were going to Tebbit again. He plagued your mind like a computer virus, infecting each and every thought and feeling. You were not willing to let him win so instead of chasing those horrible thoughts you decided to lead your mind towards thoughts about Copia. You thought about how soft his lips were, how his moustache tickledqll those places where he had left kisses on your skin. About how silly and at the same time caring he could be, about the warmth of his body and how his dick would feel inside of you, pulsing as he would come crying your name. About how his chest hairs -you assumed he had of those - would travel all the way to his lower area, about how his tummy would press on your back while he would thrust in and out of you in a rhythmic and blissful motion while you drained your moans on a pillow. About how he would praise you and leave possessive marks on your skin, making you only his, protected from anyone else, protected from all harm.

Luckily for you, the shower head was detachable because you couldn’t take it any longer. You pressed the hot stream of water to your core and it hit all the spots you thought Copia would hit with his fingers, his tongue and lastly with his cock. The need inside of you grew quickly and in a matter of minutes you were undone with wobbly knees and whispering Copia’s name, all sound drained and muted by that of water coming from the shower head. You could barely stand, the pressure and numbness on your bud too much to think straight for a bit.

When you got back to your senses you realized what had just happened, you just came thinking of Copia… — Would that count as praising Satan? He is a member of his church after all— You thought, giggling a bit. What had transpired would be a secret. Maybe you could share it with Copia if the explanations he would later provide were of your liking, you hadn’t decided yet. He would certainly like that, for sure.

Out of the shower you dressed with the clothes that had been provided: a pair of black leggings, white slacks and a black shirt that said VVLGARI. When you put on the shirt you felt as if it had been recently washed, but you also noticed that it was a very well loved shirt. It had been stretched on the collar and it had some food stains that were obviously impossible to get out. Nonetheless, putting it on it gave you a sense of comfort. You would ask later if you could keep it.

————

Just as you were finishing drying your hair there was a loud knock on the door, probably it was that person that Copia had told you that would come and fetch you.

You opened the door to encounter an old man with skull make up, something that startled you a bit. The stranger looked briefly at your shirt and smiled warmly, that calmed you down. The old man was certainly a sight to behold, he had long platinum hair which was tucked in a ponytail and he wore some kind of work outfit with overalls and water boots. Despite his age and looks you could tell that he was a handsome fellow.

“Boungiorno, Miss Claire. My name is Primo Emeritus, I will be escorting and helping you this morning.” The man that had introduced himself as Primo gave you a little nod to salute you, that is when you realised that he had the same mismatched gaze as Copia.

“Good morning, it is a pleasure to meet you.” You greeted back.

“The pleasure is all mine. Shall we go then?” He asked.

“Certainly!” You hastily grabbed your trusty notebook, closed the door behind you and followed the old man.

There was silence between you two for a bit. Primo Emeritus seemed like nice person but you had no idea where to begin a conversation with a man like him. You opted to stick to the facts.

“I assume that you will be the one helping me with the flower arrangement?” Primo looked at you briefly without stopping his march.

“Yes, indeed. After my retirement I picked up gardening as a hobby. After a few years I can say that I have something of a green thumb.” You laughed at the comment —What a nice old man— You thought, and your mind went instantly to Matty. You needed to text him after, as well as to Sam. They were probably worried sick about you.

“It is a very nice hobby to have, pretty rewarding too. I have always loved flowers…” You stopped talking suddenly. Some siblings were coming your way and you didn’t want them to overhear your conversation so you kept quiet while Primo gave you a confused look. There was a feeling of displacement inside you when they greeted Primo with the warmest of smiles, but said nothing to you. Primo then understood your behaviour.

“What kind of manners are those?” Primo questioned, stopping in his tracks, making siblings tremble at his loud tone. “Greet our guest! We are polite in this church, siblings…” The group of siblings offered their salutations to you with a tone of regret and you laughed it off saying that it did not matter, but that you appreciated it. After a lot of apologies you continued on your way with Primo. That he had put the spotlight over you wasn’t a bother, you were instead thankful that he had noticed your struggle without you even saying a thing to him. No word was exchanged between the two of you until you reached you destination, but Primo didn’t care because he was instead met with a content smile adorning your lips.

————

The place that had been chosen to complete the flowery task was a very Gothic-like greenhouse. It was framed by a very beautiful black metal which accentuated the structure’s height and pointy towers, feeling almost like a church.

“Welcome to my Garden of Nede…” Primo smiled.

“That is just Eden spelled backwards.” You teased.

“Well, here in the Satanic Church we are not as original as some might presume. We just like to mock Christians a bit. It is just a name though…” Primo explained as he opened the door to the building for you.

The greenhouse was also beautiful on the inside. The black contrasted with the greens of the plants and the browns of some wooden pillars that held the weight of the building. In the middle of it all, you observed the flowers you had so carefully chosen to fulfill Copia’s request. They were still intact, which was a blessing considering how much time they had spent traveling.

“When they arrived here yesterday the flowers looked a bit frail so I gave them some of my most nutritious soil and fertiliser. Hope you don’t mind.” Primo explained, kneeling down slowly and feeling the petals on his gloved fingers.

“Oh, of course not. Anything to keep them alive longer. They even look better than when I picked them up. I must ask you for that fertiliser recipe! It would certainly help me a lot.”

“Of course! Whatever you might need. About that, please tell me your plans about this flower arrangement and how might I be of assistance to you.” You nodded and handed him the notebook with your notes and sketches.

Primo inspected the little book, giving little nods as he read. At certain moments he got the book closer to his face, he probably needed glasses you thought. After finishing his thorough inspection of your plans he gestured for you to follow him. He led you to a big wooden table with some cute wooden green chairs, like those you find in cottages in the middle of the Highlands. You sat on one of the chairs and Primo did the same, then he spoke again.

“You have a very ambitious project ahead, it is best that we get comfortable. Would you like something to drink or a snack?”

“I haven’t had breakfast so a coffee would be absolutely delicious.”

“How do you take it?” You blushed a bit to the question.

“Em, warm coffee, cold milk, no sugar…”

“Really? My fratello takes it the same way…” You arched an eyebrow, questioning what he meant.

“Brother?”

“Yes, Cardinal Copia is my half-brother. I have two other brothers…” Then, suddenly, a light bulb turned on in your mind.

“You then are one of the previous singers of Ghost?! Copia mentioned you when he told me about the band.” You excitedly commented.

“Si, we picked up the project after our father retired. I was the first of us to carry on with the legacy. That seems like eons ago now.” Primo said with a tone of sadness and melancholy. You could see in his eyes that he missed it, he missed the project, he missed performing and making everyone sing and dance to his music. That needed to be left behind but now he had his plants. “Well”— Primo exhaled after a long silence “I will go ask one of the ghouls for that coffee and a tea for me. I will be right back.”

You were left there, alone amongst the flowers. You felt at peace, all the aromas and the warmth were evolving you like a warm blanket. It was as if in another life you had been a flower, delicate and beautiful, until someone had come and had plucked all your petals, making you wither and incapable of love. It had taken time to get your petals back, a lot of effort and time, but some of the petals were starting to grow anew. There were people out there that treated you with care and compassion, that was what made you flourish again into a beautiful flower, a rose you decided, because roses also have thorns. There was beauty to you but also danger, you didn’t let a lot of people get close to you, not many knew your true self. Those injured in the way bled before your eyes, ever regretting trying to get to know you, but you also bleed, even if they didn’t see it.

Primo came back, you spotted him from the corner of your eye. You dreaded to move as a tear was beginning to form in the corner of your eye, waiting for a sudden move to fall.

“It will take a bit, the kitchen was already closed but I still have some authority around here.” He showed off and you smiled, quickly removing the already formed tear making it look as if something had gotten into your eye.

“Thank you. You are all so nice around here.” Primo bitterly smiled.

“Well, we do still have manners if that is what you are implying. Not many people nowadays do, that is true. Shall we begin then?”

“Sure!” You responded with a nod, agreeing with his statement.

You worked perfectly together. Primo was delicate and skilled, putting together the flowers and leaves with an incomparable care. He truly loved plants. Your plans were followed to perfection and soon you had half of the first arrangement done. Just when you decided to take a break a tall and imposing man with skeleton makeup entered the greenhouse carrying two mugs, one of them steaming hot.

-“Fratello! They forgot to bring you the drinks. Tell me who you ordered them to and I will make sure to reprimand them.” The menacing man spoke. — He said fratello again…—

“Non preoccuparti (don’t bother), I am glad that you brought them instead, Secondo. I can introduce you to our guest now that you are here.” Primo explained. “This is Claire, she has been tasked with making the floral arrangement Copia ordered for tomorrow’s ritual. Claire, this is my brother, Secondo Emeritus.”

“Oh!” You exclaimed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!” You smiled at him. Secondo placed the cups on the wooden table with care and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips just as Copia had done to you a few times before.

“The pleasure is all mine, piccolo fiore (little flower).” Secondo said and it made you blush. —How come the men of this family are all so flirtatious?— You wondered.

“Fratello, please.” Primo looked to Secondo raising his brow and Secondo let go of your hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Secondo responded with a knowing glance to his brother. You picked up the coffee mug and gave it a sip. “So, Claire… What are your intentions with my little brother?” You spitted out the coffee at the question.

“SECONDO!” Primo shouted, scolding him. Secondo just laughed at your reaction, getting all the answers he wanted with just a simple and quite disgusting action. Your face turned red and all words escaped your brain. A full on blue screen. “Leave her be, you are such a busybody! You only want to tease to then tell to your wife!” Secondo looked offended, but it seemed like Primo had hit the jackpot.

“And you are such a goody-two-shoes, fratello. Sometimes it feels impossible that we come from the same father. And no, I wasn’t going to tell Marzia, I was going to tell Terzo. He has been asking me about it all freaking week, it is driving me insane.” Secondo explained but just in that instant the door to the greenhouse opened again.

“You are such a fottuto stronzo, fratello (fucking asshole, brother)! Outing me like that?! I feel betrayed. I just wanted to know.” A third man with skeleton makeup spoke.

“You could have asked yourself, you moron!” Secondo spat back to the new member of the conversation. Was that how it felt to have a real family? —you wondered— People that you get to speak about your concerns and worries, to then be comforted and laugh it all off together? Honestly, it seemed like the greatest feeling in the world.

“I just worry about him! He has been so out of it these past few months that it was painful!” The last man to enter was probably the final brother you needed to meet. He had it all, the flirtatious looks, the attitude and the skull makeup. He was beautiful. His brothers were handsome but he had an ethereal beauty to him, like a fallen angel. He noticed you eyeing him because he gave you a cheeky wink. “My name is Terzo, cara, no need to advert your gaze, I don’t charge a single cent. This is all free.” He said gesturing to his body and it made you feel self conscious but you said nothing in return, your cheeks now red with embarrassment.“As it seems that the cat has eaten your tongue, I will take my shot and ask you something and maybe that will help you loosen up… Cara, do you like Copia?” You blushed even more. The peaceful moment of making a flower arrangement had deranged into an full-on interrogatory.

“I-” You only said a syllable but all three of the Emeritus brothers turned to look at you with curiosity. “I do like him.” There it was, the resolution they wanted from you. “He is a very nice person, a bit silly but also caring” Your gaze went to your feet. “He makes me feel seen and loved… Even though I haven’t known him for long, there is a feeling inside of me telling me that I need to keep him in my life, in any way possible. I don’t want to lose him. It is like we are meant to be…” The confession came out quickly, words mixing together, but the message was clear to them, you did care about their little fratello.

“Bene! I trust you, cara… Please don’t hurt Copia, he actually responds better to positive stimuli… If you get want I mean.” Terzo spoke and you hid your face in your hands, redder than you had ever been until that moment.

“Idiota (idiot), if you got nothing better to do than interrupting us, then take a sit and start helping.” Primo said, looking at his brothers with a disappointed stare.

“Va bene (ok)…” Both Secondo and Terzo exhaled at the same time and then he seated at the table. You laughed at the fact that they were so easy manipulated by their older brother.

Once everyone was ready you began to explain with a lot of detail what you wanted them to do. How the colours coordinated and what was the best way to connect the stems and leaves. It took Secondo a couple of tries to get it but Terzo was a natural, he had very skilled fingers but you refused to ask where he had acquired such skill. The four of you spent the whole day with the arrangement but food was brought to you at lunchtime so you could get a little break. The brothers were extremely nice to you, they told you about their respective eras as the front men for Ghost, what they liked to do and what they missed. You wondered if Copia would feel the same once is time as the head of Ghost was up. Judging by his brother’s explanations, it was a very demanding job but it also was quite addicting. When their time was up, the Emeritus brothers had to find something else to do, something to spend their days while the next brother in line enjoyed the spotlight. For Primo was gardening, Secondo confessed to have picked up woodcarving as a hobby—a nice distraction while his wife knitted— and Terzo was very fond of cooking.

“And what is your favourite animal, piccolina (little one)?” Secondo suddenly asked.

“Pigeons.” You responded. “I actually have to see a nest that Copia told me was in one of your trees. He hasn’t taken me to see it yet, though.” Secondo only hummed in acknowledgment. “What about you?” You asked back, trying to keep the conversation going.

“It will sound stereotypical, but I really like goats. They are chaotic sons of bitches but so very cute.” You and the two other brothers chuckled.

“Oh, Terzo!” You exclaimed and he hummed, very focused on his task. “I really like Cirice! I think that is one of yours? I haven’t heard to all your songs guys, but for now that is my favourite I think!” Terzo raised his head to look at you and smiled widely at the compliment.

“Thank you, cara. I won a Grammy for that album…” Terzo commented and Second exhaled in exasperation.

“Here we go again…”

————

You had a very pleasant afternoon, putting the last finishing details to the arrangement. However, there were more flowers than anticipated so many of them were left without a purpose. You pondered what to do.

“Maybe you could do something extra for Copia?” Terzo suggested.

“Si, like a bouquet!”Primo exclaimed. “I am sure he would love that.” Your stomach fluttered at the idea. A precious bouquet for a precious person. Maybe that would help thanking Copia for everything he was doing for you.

“It is a great idea, I think there are even more flowers… What if I add a flower crown to the gift?” You suggested Terzo threw his hand at the air with excitement.

“YES! I want to see Copia with a flower crown… and then tease him for the rest of his days about it.”

“I don’t think he would care… He probably will like it.” Added Secondo.

“Maybe… I still want to see it!” Terzo exclaimed and Primo exhaled exasperatedly.

“Claire… by any chance… could you teach me how to do a flower crown? I think it would be a nice present for my wife.” You nodded vigorously, in reality Secondo was a softy, even if his looks suggested otherwise.

The rest of the afternoon was spent making the presents for Copia and an extra one for Secondo’s wife. The final products were two beautiful black flower crowns and an unexpectedly big bouquet with an assortment of all flower colours that you had picked (black, white and red). However, the bouquet was lacking something… a deeper meaning. You raised your concerns to Primo and he absented himself for a few minutes. What he brought back was a box full of forget-me-nots, a beautiful and delicate small blue flower that symbolises remembrance, devotion and true love. You looked at Primo and he nodded. You nodded back.

After a few minutes the bouquet was finished, a mesmerising collection of flowers. The plan was to hand the presents to Copia once the concert was over. You beamed with anticipation and excitement. Would he like them? Would he kiss you passionately in response? You had to wait until the end of the ritual to know.

The sun started to set when a ghoul came to fetch you.

“To dine? Already? I haven’t even changed… I want to look more presentable…” You said.

“Talking about looks… Where did you get that T-shirt cara?” Secondo asked.

“It was with the pile of clothes I was given… There wasn’t any other option. I actually like it a lot, it is very comfortable…” You explained.

“I can imagine… You don’t need to change. Copia will love that you wore his T-shirt…” Terzo added with a smirk.

“W-What?! His T-shirt?! He said nothing of the sort! I thought it was just a spared one form lost and found!” You exclaimed, heat raising to your cheeks once more.

“Yeah, he saw the opportunity I guess. But it is true, you don’t need to change, he will love it. Also, no need to worry about the arrangement and the presents, we will take care of them and carry them to the venue tomorrow.” Primo explained, and you nodded, a little lightheaded. “Go and have a fantastic dinner, I am sure our fratello has prepared something wonderful.” He concluded.

“Yeah, ok… I sure will. Will I see you tomorrow?” You asked the brothers. They looked at each other in silent reunion.

“We will figure something out, ok cara?” Terzo said and the other two nodded in affirmation. You had never felt so at home as you had done with them that day, it was life changing. Their constant laughs and their picking at each other, it was something straight out of a family movie — even if the subjects did not look family friendly— and you wanted to be part of something like that so badly… Maybe now you could have it, maybe you could stay with them. If they needed more flowers, if they needed anything from you… you could stay.

Saying your goodbyes to the Emeritus brothers you followed the ghoul, or better said ghoulette. Her name was Cumulus. She was voluptuously gorgeous and graceful, the silver mask also giving her an air of mystery — as it did for all the rest of the ghouls—. Before you went to the dinner, you asked if you could go back to your room to make a couple of calls. Cumulus obliged.

Back to your room your seated on your bed, phone in hand, shaking a bit. You needed to tell them that you were fine, but you dreaded to contact them in case something had happened. Turning on your screen revealed several messages from Sam and a couple dozens of calls from Matty. You decided to call him first.

“Thank goodness! Are you ok?! A customer told me what happened yesterday. I am going to murder that pretentious fucking priest!” His worry and anger brought tears to your eyes but you also smiled at the feeling of feeling cared about.

“Yes, I am ok… I don’t have much time to talk. Just know that I am in a safe place…”

“Can I know where exactly? Just so I know how to reach you in case something happens…” Matty said.

“I am staying with Cardinal Copia, Matty. It was the safest option…” You confessed.

“I don’t like that… I assume you can imagine. If the plans of that nasty priest revolve around destroying that Satanic church, maybe it isn’t the best place to stay, dear.” It was true, but you didn’t have a choice.

“I know… we will figure something out. I am safe for now.”

“I guess. Please keep me updated, ok?”

“Yeah…” you smiled “thank you for worrying, Matty.”

“How couldn’t I? You are like the daughter we never had…” A warm stream of tears descended through your cheeks.

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have said that… even if it is true.” Matty said as a response to hearing your sobs.

“They are happy tears, thank you so much for caring, truthfully.”

“No worries, dear. Take care.”

“You too.”

Giving yourself no time to process the conversation with Matty, you called Sam.

“Jeez, Claire!!! Are you ok?!”

“…yes” you managed to say, some hiccups escaping you as you tried to breath steadily “I am fine now, Sam. Everything is ok.”

“Is that Cardinal treating you ok? When I saw those assistants of his I wasn’t quite sure if I had made the right decision calling him.”

“You did, you did. I am fine. Copia is treating me great, well I haven’t seen him much today, but I had a good time here.”

“I am glad… If ANYTHING happens… If he touches a single hair of your head, I swear…” Heat rose to your cheeks, thinking about what had happened yesterday, and that morning, and what you wanted to do to Copia that night…

“Yeah well, we are both adults…”

“Claire… you didn’t…”

“We didn’t even get to third base, I promise.”

“But you plan to…”

“I guess?”

“CLAIRE, USE PROTECTION!!” She screamed.

“SAM, PLEASE!!” You screamed back. Sam stood silent.

“We will…” You whispered. “I have to go no, I will try to talk to you tomorrow, but it is going to be pretty hectic…”

“Please do, and be careful ok?”

“Yes, thank you so much for caring about me…”

“We have to stick together against assholes… and you are pretty great.” You smiled at that.

“You are pretty great as well. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye Claire…”

You hanged the phone, you feelings stirring in your chest. You had good people in your life. You deserved that love. You were cared for. With new resolve and a swift motion you got up the bed and went straight to the door finding Cumulus there still waiting for you.

“Come on, it’s dinner time.”

————

Cumulus opened the big doors to a private room next to the common dinning hall and then was Copia, seated at the only table in the room. The atmosphere was textbook romantic: red tablecloth, bottle of red wine cooling off with some ice, the only light of the room was that of some lit up black candles and a single red rose adorning the table.

The instant the door opened Copia was already looking at you, he was fully red and you assumed it had to do with you wearing his shirt. He tried to stand up quickly to greet you and he almost feel by stepping on the tablecloth, making the vase with the rose fumble a bit.

“Merda! Scusi… (Shit! Sorry…)” At his almost fall you rushed to get him, trying to avoid him hitting the ground. He luckily steadied himself before your assistance was needed.

“You ok?” You smiled at him. “That was dangerous…”

“Si, I am fine cara. Thank you… Hi!” Copia smiled at you brightly.

“Hi!” You said back, smiling even bigger, your heart filling bigger in your chest. He looked so beautiful in the candlelight… Eyes flickering, dimples on the corners of his mouth, freckles spread all over his face and his hair a bit ruffled after his biretta had fallen because to his unfortunate trip and almost fall.

“Are you hungry?” Copia asked.

“I am positively starving!” He chuckled.

“Then prepare to have the best meal of your life.” Copia took you to the desk and slid the chair for you to sit. You thanked him and he bowed in appreciation. “Did you have a good day, cara?” Copia asked putting a hand under his chin in curiosity once he was seated.

“I did. I met your brothers! They are very kind and a bit flirtatious, but mostly kind…” You answered and some of the colour on Copia’s face drained.

“You did? I mean… of course you did! Did they say anything inappropriate to you? I will have a word with them if that is the case.”

“No, it’s fine, we mostly chatted about ourselves. Oh! And I really like your shirt, your brothers told me it was yours. It is very comfy.” You said hugging yourself for a bit. Copia shifted in his seat with a cough.

“I-I am s-so very glad, cara.” Copia said nothing for a bit, the silence heavy between you two. Just as he was about to speak again a couple of ghouls entered the room carrying tasty looking plates of pasta al pesto.

The dinner was absolutely delectable. Apart from the pasta you also ate a very nice salad with fresh cheese, homemade bread and vanilla panna cotta as a dessert. Copia and you chatted about yourselves during the whole dinner, Copia purposefully avoiding his confession until the last dish. When the panna cotta was completely gone from your plate and you were left with a content slime he started to talk:

“I have been thinking about tomorrow’s concert for a while now, cara. How would we do it, where was it going to take place, how were we going to decorate it… That is when you came in. You see, I knew about you well before we officially met. I assume you remember my assistants, they are what we call here ghouls. Their origins are a bit unorthodox… lets just say that they inhabit a body that has lost its soul. That is how Imet you.” You blinked, trying to focus on everything he was saying, trying to make sense of it. “Sister Imperator insisted that we needed new ghouls and she put me in charge of finding the appropriate bodies. I was talking to a friend of mine at the crematorium and there I saw you, hugging an old man who had lost his wife.” Copia was there when you delivered the funeral ward to Matty? The shock was visible on your face, but you said nothing, allowing Copia to finish his story. “I was entranced by you, by how gentle and thoughtful you were and then I saw the funeral ward and I just knew. You were meant to create the decorations for the concert. It was as if the Dark One had spoken to me, clear as day.” You kept silent, your face unreadable at that point. “I walked in front of your store many, many times after that, trying to build up the courage to enter, but I never could. Each time..” He continued, but suddenly stopped as if he had made a mistake, completely red in the face. “I actually remember a few times that-” Copia stopped there again, a small laugh escaping him. “-that I saw you dancing around your store while you prepared bouquets, sei adorabile e mi sono innamorato di te ancora di più (you are adorable and I fell for you even more).” You looked at him, equal parts enamoured and confused. “In the end I didn’t gather the courage to go in as you can imagine, but I had to do something. That was when I sent the two sisters of sin to book your services. I was so happy when I learned that you had accepted that I couldn’t sleep for two days straight thinking that I would be able to talk to you at last… And now, here we are.” Copia looked at you, waiting for a response.

“I don’t know what to say Copia…” He looked a bit disappointed but also understanding.

“That is okie dokie, just take your time.”

You stayed silent, trying to make sense of everything. Copia’s assistants were basically zombies. Satan had ‘convinced’ him into hiring you. He knew of you for at least two months before you even spoke to him. He had seen you dancing in your store… He also had been truthful and it seemed that he had a crush on you since minute one. At the realization you blushed, deeply. Your face had become a furnace, shinning and ready to cook and egg.

“I-” you started saying and Copia looked at you with big hopeful eyes. “I am not going to lie to you Copia, all this is so out of my comfort zone…” you laughed “but I can see that you are genuine, that you have no malice regarding your feelings towards me. You are just an adorably awkward dork that has feelings for a girl… and that girl might have feelings for the dork as well…” you whispered but you knew that Copia had heard you loud and clear because his face instantly transformed into a beam of happiness and adoration.

“Tesoro mío (my treasure)“ he began, voice strong and steady “I adore you deeply and unconditionally, I am not afraid to tell you anymore! You are the most beautiful rose that these old tired eyes have ever witnessed and… I want to take care of you, make you laugh and make you smile so wide that you forget everything that has ever caused you any pain.” The beating of your heart drained most sounds around you but Copia’s voice was reaching you like thunder and lightning, striking you in place. “And if something hurts you in the future I want to be there next to you to help you back to your feet, to nurse you back to health, to be the shoulder you can lean to cry or to rest, to be the body you can hug whenever you feel tired or drained… I want to be all that for you, cara…” You simply nodded, tears pricking your eyes, you felt so overwhelmingly loved that you could have fainted in that very moment.

Copia rose to his feet and knelt beside you, grabbing your face with both hands.

“Can I kiss you, Claire?” He asked, his eyes glinting with love.

“Y-you s-silly l-little rat man, of c-course.” You managed to say in between sobs.

He reached for you, pulling his body upwards to meet your lips, appreciating the tingly sensation of your lips bruising his, his nose touching yours and his lungs breathing the same air as you did. With eagerness and hunger you cupped his face and closed the gap that existed between your mouths.

You had kissed Copia before, but this was a new type of kiss. He was putting all his feelings to that kiss, the same as you. There was no tongue, no deeper exploration of your mouths. It was not that kind of kiss. It was a kiss that sealed a promise, a promise that Copia was willing to dedicate his life to to fulfill it.

“It is quite late, maybe we should go to bed…” You said after breaking the kiss, eyes still closed and with content look on your face.

“It-it is…” Copia muttered with disappointment. “I should take you to your room, tomorrow is going to be a big day…” The attempt to flirt flew straight over his head.

“Copia… maybe I could sleep in your bed?” You said more directly. Copia froze, beads of sweat forming on his very red face.

Copia led you through the dark stone corridors, going up to what seem almost the last store of the abbey. During the whole journey Copia had stood in front of you, rushing the both of you towards your destination. That wasn’t enough fun for you, you wanted to tease him until he was just a puddle. Revenge for how bothered he had left you that very same morning.

“I- I- I… really?” You nodded to his question and with a quick jump only comparable to that of a child that just got told that there was pizza for dinner, Copia rose to his feet. “YEAH, em I mean, of course, cara…” Copia extended his hand and you took it with excitement.

“You know, I think that what I have enjoyed the most of this Ministry of yours is your showers…” You couldn’t see Copia’s face but you felt his steps slowing down just a bit. “Yeah, the heat is perfect… the pressure too, it hits all the right spots you know…” Copia chocked on his own spit. “It was just the perfect valve for how bothered somebody had left this morning, I had to do something… I just hope that nobody heard me…” You finished with a slutty tone and batting your eyelashes, even if Copia could not see you.

It was too much for him. Still grabbing your had he turned around and pushed you to the nearest wall, pinning your hand over your head and grabbing the other one and putting it over his growing member.

“Satana, what a tease you are, huh? You want me to fuck your pretty little cunt right here in the fucking cold stone walls where anybody could hear how needy you are? Or would you like to wait to get to my room and for me to fuck you senseless over and over again screaming my name?”

You didn’t recognise him at all, his tone was low, his white eye was the only one visible in the darkness of the corridor and his almost hard cock was pressing on your hand. With a little squeeze of your hand and a gulping sound on your part Copia released his grasp.

He put you down just as you arrived to a big mahogany door. The only barrier between you and his bed. Words were again something that you could speak so you did.

“What happened? Did the cat eat your tongue, dolcezza?” You were flabbergasted, glued to the ground. Your knees were shaky and the wetness of your core was becoming even uncomfortable to walk. At your sudden halt Copia decided to pick you up bridal style and carry you to his quarters.

“Can I come… in?” Your words were slow and your tone sensual. Copia’s keys fell to the ground.

“Copia, what are y-” the question couldn’t even leave your mouth. As soon as Copia had opened the door his mouth was on yours, hungry and possessive.

“Satana, sta succedendo davvero? Non essere sciocco e rimetterti in sesto! (Satanas, is it really happening? Don’t be a fool and get it together!)” Copia murmured in Italian while opening the door without looking at you, all his previous confidence gone, embarrassed that he had dropped his keys.

You had no need to ask, but you had the need to be his, to let him do whatever he desired to you. You had dinner but you were already hungry for the second dessert. You hadn’t even crossed the door when you parted in need of air but in Copia’s eyes you found the same hunger, there was also a tint of adoration and an insane amount of lust. His pupils almost covered his irises of how wide they had gotten making him look almost cat-like.

“Please, come on in.” Copia invited with faulty breaths, thoughts racing a mile per hour and heart pounding out of his chest. He could not believe that you were about to be his, he had dreamed about you for months, your face and body blessing his days and nights. His brothers had noticed his daydreaming and his lack of sleep. When he had finally confessed the cause of his ailment? his brothers had been supportive but still careful, warning him about the dangers outside of the congregation and how someone from the outside couldn’t probably be trusted. He had agreed with them then, but on the inside he really didn’t care. For all he cared you could take him to the depths of hell and he would thank you for it.

Shyness overtook you when you stepped into Copia’s room. It was modest but still elegant. The main piece of furniture was without a doubt the bed. It was obvious that Copia liked to sleep well. The bed was a queen size, the frame was a dark brown almost black colour with plenty of details and decorations carved into it. Shinny red sheets covered the mattress and on top there laid so many freaking pillow you almost considered it absurd. He was really a rat man.

Opposite to you, Copia regained his confidence once he entered his room. He was in his domain and he would do anything you ever asked of him. He saw how shy you were, how tiny you had become in that new environment so he decided to start slow.

“Take off your cape” You began, and Copia untangled himself from you, very slowly opening the cape of his cassock and letting it fall to the ground.

“Dolcezza, you are so beautiful” He said grabbing your hand and lacing the other around your waist, pressing himself into your back, almost like a nest “I want to pleasure you,” he chanted kissing your palm “I want to kiss every single inch of skin of your body” he continued by kissing the pulse in your wrist “I want you to feel so loved” he said, leaving kisses all over your arm until he reached your neck “but I also want for you to feel comfortable…” He kissed a spot on the curve of your neck that made you shiver in anticipation. “Could you tell me what to do, cara? I want to follow your instructions. Take the lead, per favore.” He whispered, his lips still on your neck, leaving kisses and tiny bites that for sure would show in the morning. You could only nod to his request. “Vene…”

“Continua (go on)” He said as you turned to look at him.

“Help me with my shoes” You ordered, sitting on your bed. He dropped to the ground and very slowly undid the laces of your sports finally getting your feet out. You groaned at the feeling of his firm hands on your feet. “Now the socks” He grinned, getting his mouth close to them and grabbing the fabric with his teeth, pulling slowly until both your feet were bare. You looked at him with a bit of a weird face.

“I do not have a feet fetish, love. I just want to appreciate every single part of you…” He whispered kissing your ankle this time and you blushed again. He stopped there, massaging your feet, patiently waiting for your next order.

“Take off your shirt” You said with a smile and Copia just nodded. Firstly, he pulled out his collar in one swift motion that made you grind your thighs in need. Then, his gloved fingers worked meticulously on his buttons and you could only marvel at the idea of how they would feel inside you. Would they even fit? The fabric seemed thick but also soft, you were really eager to try.

Once he finished, he pulled the shirt from his pants, he took both of his arms out and the piece of clothing fell delicately to the ground. Copia was left only with a pair of black suit pants and a white undershirt that showed the definition of his muscles and… part of his hairy chest —oh my Satan— A gold chain with an inverted crucifix was the acing on the cake for you, it dangled on top of his pecs and you just wanted to hold it in your mouth while you rode him senseless. Copia looked at you, still patient but now less patient because he felt more naked than you were, something needed to change.

“My pants… take them off…” The petition came of you in fragments, each word slow and at the end you dropped to the bed and lifted your legs for him to have an easier access. Copia got close to you so you opened your legs for him. He positioned himself between your legs and helped you with your pants. At the friction of your pants coming off his dick twitched, feeling it on your exposed skin.

You were left only on his shirt and your underwear. Copia’s eyes widened at the sight with lust as did his half hard cock, pulsing in his pants becoming and a full mast in an instant. His patience was almost gone, the need to touch you growing with each passing second. He practically crawled at you, laying on top of you he kissed every part of exposed skin that he could find.

“Be mine, Claire. You have poised my thoughts, every single second of every day I have thought about you, so please be fucking mine.” He growled when he reached your neck and you moaned for him.

“I am yours, Copia. I need you…” You said with desperation.

“Prove it, dolcezza.” In an instant you took Copia's gloved hand and guided it towards your aching and wet core. He could feel it even through the fabric of his leather gloves and he groaned at the knowledge of you wanting him so badly, as much as he wanted you.

“Sei peccato puro, ti loderò come meriti (you are pure sin, I will praise you like you deserve)” You didn’t understand what he said, but actions certainly speak louder than words.

He trailed down following the path of kisses he had given you on his way up, only this time you felt the fire on his lips and a tingly sensation lingering where he placed them, you were longing for more, almost suffering in anticipation and in need of more contact. Once he was back in between your legs Copia felt like he had found his true calling. You panties were drenched in your juices and the sight made his dick hurt. He parted the fabric with his fingers and took in the sight while also taking a big breath smelling the scent of you. Copia started to kiss you then, just where you wanted, but not how you wanted. The kissed were teasingly slow and almost ghost like, his lips gracing your folds with a small peck each time. You groaned impatiently and he chuckled. He wanted to give everything to you so he obliged, leaving his teasing aside. His kisses became more passionate, his whole face was in your pussy and you were sure that all his lipstick had to be gone at that point. He licked you bottom to top and then presses a fervent kiss to your bud. The motion made you gasp. Then, he went down again, putting his whole tongue in your entrance drinking you like a dying man lost in a desert.

“Please, Copia, more…” You pleaded and he hummed, entering you with one of his fingers. His mouth went back to your clit and his finger worked in and out of you. It felt thick and soft, he heat and juices of your pussy made it so easy for him to move. You were so open for him, taking him so well that he dared to insert a second finger. It was unexpected and you arched your back in pleasure. Copia’s other hand rose from a spot he had found on your leg to your belly, keeping you in place. It was too much for both of you. Copia kept a quick rhythm with his fingers and tongue, circling and kissing your clit. Your felt the tightness building up, something that he also felt around his finger so he continued his praising, humming into you. During the whole ordeal your forearms were covering your face but with the sounds that he was making you threw a hand to his hair and pulled vigorously, making Copia moan. That did it for you, you let yourself loose on his finger and mouth and he drank you fully, ending with a satisfying huff.

“Delizioso, cosi dolce (delicious, so sweet)” Copia said going back to kiss your mouth tasting yourself on his tongue and moustache.

“Copia” You murmured between uneven breaths “more…” Copia looked at you, his fully erect member had been neglected for too long. So, you helped him out of his pants and boxers. He had not lied when he had said that he was big, not only that but he was also thick and had a slight tilt to the left. The time in confinement had made it a dark shade of pink and precum was oozing from it.

“Cara, do you want me to…?” The question died on his lips when you spoke.

“I am on the pill, no worry… and I trust you…”

“I am clean, cara. Just wanted to know what you preferred.” You thanked him for that, but you wanted more, needed more, needed to feel only him. Reassuring him, you took your hands straight to his bare ass, guiding him towards your entrance once more.

Slowly he entered, fitting in you so perfectly that you almost wanted to cry of pure happiness.

“Cazzo (fuck)” Copia said in a whisper. He stretched your walls but stopped at a certain point letting you get used to him. Once you were ready you nodded and he continued pushing until he was buried in the depths of you. He stood there for a while, kissing your lips until you told him to move. He started slow, getting himself out a bit and then pushing in with a swift movement. He repeated the action, each time getting himself more and more out of you to then get deeper and deeper. Once he found a pace that made you shut your eyes he kept it, thrusting with his hips, knees deep in the mattress. To steady yourself you threw your legs on top of him, encircling him also with your arms, going straight for his neck.

You huffed and moaned under him and Copia felt so ablaze that he could have cum just by hearing you. While your mouth was open but your eyes were still shut you felt somethings dangling over your face. Satan had heard your silent prayers, he knew you wanted something in your mouth, so you took it in your and sucked, twirling it around like a lollipop. The taste was metallic so you knew for certain that it had to be the crucifix. In his own bliss, Copia took notice and looked directly to your eyes. As if feeling watched you opened your own and looked at him as well.

Copia’s hair was a mess, as was his makeup but he looked so beautiful, so perfect, so frustrated but also so at peace…

“You are so fucking perfect, Claire.” He said, each thrust more passionate. “And also so dirty, a dirty whore for me. Touching yourself in the shower thinking of me… completely naked, water dripping from your body… and now you are wearing my fucking shirt and you are going to cum wearing my fucking shirt.”

You smiled, wanting to give him something, to push him over the edge. You opened your mouth to show him your work. Copia produced a guttural moan at the sight of his crucifix soaked in your saliva. “Cazzo, fuck, fucking hell…”

After that, Copia’s thrusts became more passionate and erratic, the pace that he had set was long gone. He was chasing both of your releases but he was so close… he needed to wait for you to finish first, to feel you come undone around his cock, milking him into oblivion.

You pressed him harder into you and Copia used his last bits of strength to get to hit every single spot that could make you scream his name.

“C-Copia ah, please, I want- fuck me ah… ah” You moaned.

You needed nothing more, your body shaking in pleasure, feeling so light and happy. You released a breath you did not know you were holding, still lost in your bliss. Copia followed you soon after with his own release, the feeling of your walls pulsing around him too much to hold. He was right, you milked him so good that he almost wanted to die right there and then, inside of you.

“Do it, cara, for me. Do it.” Copia responded, almost out of breath.

You stayed like that for a while, Copia on top of you just like when you awoke that morning, his weight and warmth were a welcome present now that the room was begging to feel cold. He nested his head on your neck, threatening to fall asleep. A few minutes passed and Copia rolled to the side, spent and still breathless. It took a bit for him to get up, but he finally got it done, his back hurting like hell. The concert was going to be painful but he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Copia went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to clean you.

He was delicate with his motions, cleaning his seed from where it has spilled on your thighs. You appreciated the aftercare and gave him a sleepy smile. The need for sleep was winning your desire to talk to Copia, to stay awake and look at him.

Somehow Copia managed to pull the covers of the bed over your body. Very slowly he went under the covers himself, trying not to bother you too much as he could see how tired you truly were. He pulled you against him and you snuggled him for a bit until you found the perfect position. Copia turned out the lights as best as he could and went back to you, caressing your hair and making you fall into a deep sleep.

“Buona note, amore mio (good night, my love).”

————

At that very same moment, not too far away, two men were discussing something in a dark alley.

“Do you think this will work, father?”

“Oh, certainly. God punishes those who strain from his path. Those who are against him must be punished. His hand guides me, my child. I am just a mere too, but God’s tools do not fail. They must atone for their sins with their lives.”

————

It is done woooooo!!! I hoped you enjoyed as always, this has been a challenge for me. I don’t usually write such long chapters, but inspiration overtook me. I am also not very proficient in writing smut so if anything felt weird I am sorry, I need to work on it.

I also know that the female character is more like an OC at this point so I will probably change tags and thinks like that in the near futute.

I will check the grammar and everything tomorrow again, I am very tired.

Thank you so so much for reading and have a good one!

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[waitimcomingtoo]

Valentine’s Day Blues

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: In the midst of planning Valentine’s Day and his brothers party, Tom forgets your birthday

happy birthday to @bluelilly21 !! 🥳

Masterlist

The first time you met Tom, you were crashing his brothers birthday party. In your defense, it was Valentine’s Day, as well as your birthday, and you didn’t want to be alone. So when your best friend said she was going with her boyfriend to some party, you tagged along.

“Hey mate. Thanks for the party. We’re gonna be heading out soon.” Tuwaine shouted over the music of Harry and Sam’s birthday party.

“Thanks so much for coming.” Tom said as he pulled him into a hug. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You too, mate. Wait one second.” Tuwaine turned around and found his girlfriend in the crowd. “I want you to meet my girlfriend”.

“Hi. I’m Yara.” A girl came from behind Tuwaine and put her hand out to shake Tom’s.

“And I’m bored.” You announced as you stumbled into Yara’s arms. “Can we go, please?”

“In a minute.” She laughed as she held you up. “I haven’t said goodbye to everyone yet.”

“But I did and if I stick around it’ll be awkward.” You whined in her ear, making Tom laugh. Yara gave Tom a look that told him this wasn’t her first time having to take care of you.

“I said my goodbyes already. I could stay with you until Yara is done.” Tom offered. You picked your head off of Yara’s shoulder and squinted at Tom, finally noticing that he was standing there.

“Yeah. Why don’t you stay with Tom?” Yara spoke in a motherly tone as she helped you stand up straight.

“But I don’t know him.” You whispered to her, just loud enough for Tom to hear. He understood you not wanting to be left alone with a stranger while drunk, so he didn’t take any offense to it.

“He’s Tuwaine’s best friend.” She assured you. “I wouldn’t leave you alone with someone I didn’t trust.”

“Okay.” You sighed before facing Tom. “But don’t try anything. I have a gun.”

“She doesn’t.” Yara whispered behind her hand. “Play nice.”

“Bite me.” You nipped at her, making her laugh.

“I will.” She smiled and pulled you into a hug. “Love you, girl.”

“Love you.” You mumbled before letting her go. She disappeared back into the crowd, leaving you alone with Tom. You were a little too drunk to remember your manners, so you just stared at him, unapologetically sizing him up.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Tom.” Tom reached out to shake your hand.

“Y/n.” You told him as you dapped him up. Tom laughed a little at your movement and checked you out.

“How come I haven’t seen you before?” He asked, taking a step closer so you could hear him over the music.

“Excuse me.” You put on a voice. “I am homeless. I am gay. I have AIDS. And I’m new in town.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Tom frowned. “Do you need a place to sleep tonight?”

“Dude, I’m joking.” You laughed in shock. “Haven’t you heard of John Mulaney?”

“No.” Tom shook his head. “Is he your friend?”

“He’s a comedian.” You said like it was obvious. “Don’t they have comedy in England?”

“Our teeth are pretty funny looking.” Tom shrugged, making you smile.

“Hm.” You looked him up and down. “Cute and funny.”

“So how much of what you just told me was true?” Tom asked as he took a sip of his drink.

“Nothing except for the fact that I’m new in town.” You seemed to sober up a little. “But Yara and I go way back.”

“Same with me and Tuwaine.”

“I know. He’s been talking you up to me for a year now.” You chuckled as you pulled a water bottle out of your bag.

“Has he?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “What did he say?”

“That what you lack in height you make up for in charm.” You insulted him flirtatiously.

“What’s the verdict?” Tom stepped closer again. “Was he right?”

“You’d really let me sleep at your place if I was homeless?” You questioned him and you decided whether you liked him or not.

“I would.”

“Well, then he was right.” You batted your eyelashes and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “You’re definitely short.”

“Damn.” Tom shook his head as you pulled away laughing.

“I’m sorry.” You chuckled. “But you’re pretty charming as well.”

“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.” Tom flirted.

“Guess what?” You went up on your tip toes to whisper in his ear. “It’s my birthday today.”

“Is it really?” He asked. “It’s my brothers birthday too.”

“Isn’t this their party?” You realized, and Tom nodded. “I hope you don’t mind I tagged along with Yara. I just broke up with my boyfriend and I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Tom told you. “I’m sorry about your breakup. Now that I know you’re single, you know what it really makes me want to do?”

“What’s that?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Get you a cab and make sure you get home safe.” Tom smiled softly as you as he gave you a comforting squeeze on your arm.

“That would be lovely.” You said in appreciation. You took Tom by the hand and began to walk with him towards the exit. “I’m glad I met you Tom.”

“I’m glad I met you too, darling.”

You didn’t kiss him that night, though you wanted to. It took about a month of knowing each other for you to finally kiss him. But once you did, you were inseparable.

It was a full year since the party, meaning yours and the twins birthday had come around again. It was also Valentine’s Day, your very first one with Tom. You woke up before him and walked into the kitchen, smiling at the dozen roses he had set on the table. Next to the roses was a box of chocolates at your spot at the kitchen table, but no birthday card. You furrowed your eyebrows a little but didn’t have time to think about it when your phone rang. You answered it and thanked the person for the birthday wishes as Tom entered the room.

“Sorry.” You smiled as you put your phone down. “I had a phone call.”

“Good morning. Happy Valentine’s days.” Tom’s voice was husky with sleep as he pulled you into a long kiss.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too.” You smiled against his lips before kissing him again.

“I have to call my brothers before I forget.” Tom kissed your forehead before pulling away. “Then I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Yeah.” You narrowed your eyes at him to see if he was joking. “You wouldn’t want to forget a birthday.”

Tom didn’t take the hint as your phone began to ring again.

“Your phone is ringing again?” He raised his eyebrows. “Someone’s popular.”

“I guess I am.” You mumbled, realizing that he had indeed forgotten. You took your phone call and tried to give Tom the benefit of the doubt. It was his brothers birthday, after all. Maybe he was just waiting to say it to them first. You came back to the kitchen after the call just as Tom was putting pancakes on the table.

“There you are.” He grinned and made grabby hands at you. “I want to spend every second together until the party. It kinda sucks our first Valentine’s Day together is also my brothers birthday. I’d rather spend the day with you.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged sadly. “Birthdays are important.”

“I know.” He ironically agreed. “Maybe we can leave early and have some alone time.”

“Sure baby.” You faked a smile. “Let’s just eat, okay?”

You didn’t want to fight with him, especially on Valentine’s Day, so you made peace and sat down with him to eat breakfast. You were hurt that he had forgotten your birthday, but he at least remembered Valentine’s Day. You decided that that was better than nothing and tried to push it from your mind.

Tom had a few last minute errands to run before his brothers party, which you were slightly relieved about. You didn’t really want to spend the day with him after he forgot your birthday. He kissed you goodbye multiple times, harping on how sorry he was to leave you on Valentine’s Day. You sighed deeply once he left, feeling tears threaten your eyes in his absence. Every time he mentioned the party or Valentine’s Day, you were reminded that he had forgotten about you.

Tom came home once you had already started getting ready. You had your dress on and were talking a phone call as he got dressed.

“Are you almost ready to go, love?” Tom asked as he buttoned his shirt.

“One minute.” You mouthed as you pointed to your phone. The conversation finished up quickly and you hung up.

“Did someone leak your phone number or something?” Tom wondered. “It’s been going off all day.”

“Oh, you know.” You shrugged, not wanting to start something. “It’s a special occasion.”

“Valentine’s day is not that special.” He laughed as he came behind you to look in the mirror. “But you look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You smiled tightly as you put in your earrings. Tom went in to kiss you, but you moved so he’s only get your cheek. He clocked your strange behavior but shrugged it off as he grabbed his keys.

~

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY BITCH!” Yara screamed from across the room when she saw you at the party. She ran to you and threw her arms around you, squeezing you tightly. She kissed both your cheeks before placing a tiara on your head.

“There. So everyone knows you’re the birthday girl.” She smiled proudly as she fixed your hair.

“Thank you.” You grinned as you squeezed her hands. “I appreciate you.”

“Well it’s my best friends birthday. I had to do something.” She shrugged playfully. “What did Tom get you?”

“Tom forgot.” You blurted, trying to keep a straight face. “He hasn’t said anything yet.”

“What?” Yara’s face fell. “He threw his brothers this party but didn’t even wish you a happy birthday?”

“There’s a lot going on today.” You tried to defend him. “He wished me a happy Valentine’s Day. And he got me roses.”

“It’s your birthday.” She didn’t let up. “It is his girlfriends birthday. He should know that.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged it off, but she could tell you were upset.

“It’s not.” She didn’t let up. “Where is he now?”

“Last time I saw him, he was with Tuwaine.” You told her. “I didn’t really want to be around him right now.”

“Good.” Yara nodded as she fixed your hair. “Leave him be until he figures it out.”

“Is that the birthday girl?” A familiar voice came from behind you, making you smile.

“Happy birthday, you two.” You greeted Sam and Harry as you handed them separate birthday cards.

“Happy birthday to you too, princess.” Harry teased as he flicked your tiara. They pulled you into a group hug that lingered while Sam rubbed your back.

“This is for you.” Sam handed you a card.

“And this is from us.” Harry winked as he handed you a small black box.

“Thanks guys.” You smiled in appreciation. “I put your gifts in the back room. Should I get them?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sam waved his hand. “Open it.”

You opened the box and found a thin black brackets with a straight metal pendant. The pendant had dots and lines going across it, making you look at the twins in confusion.

“It says “Holland” is Morse code. We have them too.” Harry explained as he showed you his matching bracelet.

“It’s to show that you’re part of our family now.” Sam added. “So people know you’re our sister.”

“Thats…” ,you stared at the bracelet for a moment, feeling sentimental tears coming to your eyes, “that’s really sweet, guys. Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

You pulled them into another group hug before letting them get back to their party.

“They remembered.” Yara gave you a pointed look.

“I should probably get back to the party.” You changed the subject, not wanting to sit in self pity. “Thank you for the tiara. You’re the best best friend I could ask for.”

“You’re welcome.” Yara told you as she hugged you tightly. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry your boyfriend is dumb.”

You gave her a look before heading back to the main area of the party. The second you saw Tom, you felt a disappointment in your stomach. He was laughing and having a good time while you were upset. You wished you didn’t care as much as you did, but you were hurt. He had forgotten your birthday and didn’t seem to care.

“Hey. There you are.” Tom smiled when he spotted you, already tipsy as he tried to hug you. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yeah.” You said flatly and moved away from him. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

Tom pouted briefly at your odd behavior as Yara and a friend of yours approached him.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Your friend, KC, shouted over the music.

“She just left to get a drink.” Tom told her. “She’ll be back soon.”

“Good.” KC nodded. “I have to wish her happy birthday. I called her first thing this morning but I want to tell her in person.”

“It’s my brothers birthday, actually.” Tom corrected her. “They’re over by the pool table.”

“I know.” She laughed shortly. “But it’s Y/n’s birthday too.”

“She’s a Valentine’s baby.” Yara said sweetly while shooting daggers at Tom. “Isn’t that so cute?”

“What?” Tom jutted his head back. “It’s not her birthday. Her birthday is-��

“Today.” KC raised an eyebrow at Tom. “Did you not know?”

“I think he knew.” Yara stated with a hand on her hip. “He just forgot.”

“Oh no. I’m such an asshole.” Tom covered his mouth with his hand. “I can’t believe I forgot her birthday.”

“She couldn’t believe it either.” Yara shrugged. “You’re not gonna live this one down. This is exactly what happened last time.”

“Don’t say that.” KC said in a hushed tone, making Tom grow concerned.

“What do you mean?” Toms eyes darted between the two of them. “What happened last time?”

“Her ex did this last year and she was totally devastated.” KC told him. “He texted her “happy v day” and did nothing all day. They didn’t last a day after that.”

“Really? That’s why they broke up?” Tom began to panic. He knew about the ex, but you had never told him why you broke up.

“Yeah. She felt ignored.” Yara said unsympathetically towards Tom. “She was crying at my apartment until I brought her to your brothers party. That’s when you met, dummy.”

“Oh no.” Tom whined and looked around for you. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

“I’m not so sure.” KC shook her head.

“Why do you say that?” Tom panicked at her confidence.

“Because I’m pretty sure she just left.” KC said as she pointed behind Tom. Tom wiped around right as you walked out the door. Harry and Sam were standing near by, still waving to you as you left. Tom rushed over to them, already seeing the disappointment on their faces before he got there.

“Dude, what did you do?” Harry asked, a little annoyed with Tom. “You didn’t wish Y/n a happy birthday?”

“You literally met on her birthday last year.” Sam added. “How could you forget that?”

“I don’t know!” Tom groaned, angry with himself. “It completely slipped my mind. I got her chocolates and roses though.”

“For Valentine’s Day.” Harry interjected. “Not her birthday. You’ve been together for almost a year and you didn’t wish her happy birthday. That’s cold, mate.”

“What did she say to you guys?” Tom asked. “Was she upset?”

“She was crying.” Sam told him, making Tom hang his head in shame.

“I gotta go.” Tom decided. “I have to make it up to her.”

“You can try.” Harry shrugged. “I don’t really think she wants to talk to you.”

“And I don’t really blame her.” Sam mumbled under her breath. Tom let out another sigh before getting his things and leaving the party. He stopped by the store to get a few things before driving home to you.

~

Once Tom got home, he peered around a wall and found you sitting on the couch reading a book. He took a deep breath before putting on his most apologetic smile.

“Happy birthday.” Tom said weakly as he presented you with a cupcake. He sat down on the couch next to you but you didn’t budge.

“Who told you?” You asked without looking up. Tom sighed and set the cupcake on the coffee table so he could talk to you.

“Yara.” He admitted, and you nodded like you were expecting that. You continued to read your book, putting a nervous feeling in Toms stomach.

“I’m so sorry, princess.” He apologized as he put a hand on your knee. “I completely forgot.”

“I noticed.” You replied coldly, removing his hand.

“How can I make it up to you?” He asked sweetly, hoping you’d give a little.

“It’s fine.” You sighed. “There was a lot going on today. It’s Valentine’s Day and it’s your brothers birthday. And hey, at least you remembered those.”

“It’s not fine.” He frowned. “I can tell you’re upset. I’m so sorry.”

You finally put your book down and stared straight ahead, not knowing what you wanted to say yet.

“I am upset.” You said, like you were admitting it to yourself. “And I’m not sure why.”

“Because I forgot your birthday.” Tom reminded you quietly.

“But it’s only your first offense.” You thought out loud. “This is just strike one.”

“What?” Tom furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m not following, love.”

“I’m trying to say that you’ve been a really good boyfriend so far.” You finally looked at him. “You pay attention and communicate your feelings and go out of your way to make me happy. You have been a picture perfect boyfriend for the past year and all the sudden…”

“I fucked up.” Tom finished your sentence for you. You laughed softly and nodded.

“Yeah.” You agreed. “So I’m not sure how to react. On the one hand, you forgot my birthday. On the other hand, you were busy all day getting me roses and chocolates and throwing an amazing party for your brothers because that’s the kind of guy you are. Should I be mad that you’re so thoughtful that you took too much on?”

“Are you asking me?” He laughed a little.

“I am.” You softened up and smiled at him. “Because I don’t know what to do. I’m upset you forgot my birthday, but I also know why you forgot. So I’m at a bit of a crossroads right now.”

“Well, the party was no excuse to forget.” Tom didn’t let himself off the hook. “I should have remembered.”

“Yes, you should have.” You agreed. “But this has happened to me before. And the last time it happened, I didn’t get an apology and a cupcake.”

“Yara told me about your ex.” Tom said softly as he put his hand on your knee again. This time, you let him. “I’m not like him.”

“I know you’re not.” You smiled weakly. “You’ve spent the past year proving to me that you’re nothing like him. So yes, I’m upset. But I’m also ready to forgive you.”

“You are?” He asked hopefully, leaning closer to silently ask for a kiss.

“I am.” You accepted his kiss and he smiled in relief. “Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” He promised. “Thank you for forgiving me. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled at him. “Now give me that cupcake.”

Tag List 🏷

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——————

Kuroo x reader - ...Yet it Happened Again (you did once pt.2)

⚠️Warnings - Bokuto running around without underwear so his pants and his asscheeks prolly stank, none

Pronouns - he/him

You can find part one here!

——————

“I never stood a chance, did i?” Kuroo chuckled. It was a sad chuckle, one that made (Y/n) want to cry as well.

“That’s the sad part.” (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line, turning it into a smile connotated with pity.

“You did once.”

(Y/n) rubbed at the back of his head, trying not to suffocate in the aggravating silence that consumed the air. He looked off to the side, looking to the ground where his feet stood, then kept his gaze trained on his feet.

He didn’t want to see Kuroo’s face again. Not because he was uncomfortable that he liked him, no. He was sure they’d be good buddies again in a few days. He just didn’t want to see that pitiful expression that hung heavy with rejection. Even (Y/n) was an empathetic person.

“We should head back...” (Y/n) said, mumbling into the ground. “Yeah,” Kuroo’s disembodied voice rang, albeit a bit wavy and dry. It twisted (Y/n’s) heart into knots.

(Y/n) pushed off the railing and began to walk away. People would be wondering where they went.

“Are you comi-“ (Y/n’s) voice hitched in his throat.

Kuroo was smiling. His eyes closed, a gentle, warm smile on his face as he held himself with his arms wrapped tightly around themselves. (Y/n’s) furrowed his eyebrows.

Kuroo seemed to notice the gaze of confusion from him, so he looked up. His eyes were gentle, they held no grudge or blame for (Y/n), eyes that respected and adored his decision, even if it was rejection on his part. Some part of him wished Kuroo would be more mad, so he didn’t have to feel so bad about turning down his confession.

“There’s...” Kuroo finally spoke up after what seemed like forever. “...nothing I can really do to change your mind.”

Kuroo’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. Not smirk, but a soft, clad smile. (Y/n) frowned.

“And it made me realize just how happy I am to still be your friend. And I think I’m satisfied with that for now.”

Kuroo hiked himself off the railing as well, not bothering for an answer from (Y/n) and his unreadable expression. He walked past him, before stopping and turning around.

“Thanks for hearing me out, (Y/n). I have my answer now and I can stop stressing, so thank you for that.”

“Let’s go back.”

(Y/n) nodded quietly. He didn’t trust his voice to come out the way he wanted, so he chose to silently follow Kuroo back to the gym.

——

Why did it feel so bad?

He knew rejecting people always felt sort of burdenful, but he never thought about things like that more than a day at most, usually forgetting the whole thing happened after a good amount of time. But (Y/n) found himself thinking about it even three days after his rejection to Kuroo.

Was it because it was his friend who he rejected? His old crush? (Y/n) bounced a volleyball against the ground, before bringing it up into a toss. He tossed the ball absentmindedly as his teammates did whatever solo practice they wanted to do.

(Y/n) hummed to himself. Even though he was confused as to why it felt so bad to reject Kuroo, he wondered why he didn’t take his rejection more heavily even more.

It was a rejection, he should’ve been at least a bit more sad then that. But he was smiling. Kuroo was smiling as (Y/n) so selfishly told him he didn’t love him. God, why did he have to confess so early into training camp?

Maybe it was because he was such a kind person...a kind, kind person. He was lucky to have a friend like that, willing to be happy being friends with someone like him, who broke his heart. So lucky. Lucky that Kuroo was kind and caring and-

The volleyball dropped and bounced off (Y/n’s) face, before tumbling onto the ground and bouncing away. (Y/n) stumbled back with a groan, tripping and falling onto his ass as he tried to regain his bearings. He must’ve been so lost in his thoughts that he forgot he was tossing the ball. He sat and rubbed at his face. It stung, especially since the ball dropped from so high up.

“(Y/n)!”

He heard a voice yell. (Y/n’s) heart swelled. From guilt or from something else, he didn’t know.

In a second Kuroo was standing over him, a worried look on his face. He crouched down to his side.

“Are you okay? That looked like it hurt.” Kuroo gave no time for (Y/n) to answer, as he pulled his hand away from his head and cupped his cheek. He brought (Y/n’s) face close to his own, examining it closely. (Y/n) held his breath, and looked anywhere but him. “Your forehead looks kinda red.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine...” (Y/n) brought his hand up to Kuroo’s wrist to get him to let go of his face, but he held it firm, but with the gentleness of a feather at the same time. His hand was warm. He wished it was cold so his heart would calm down. He wished he would let go already.

Kuroo scanned the gym for the nearest adult. Coach Nekomata was busy being talked off by Karasuno’s coach, so he couldn’t go there. And he’s pretty sure everyone else was busy. Kuroo sighed.

“Get up, I’m taking you to the health office so you can rest.”

In a second, (Y/n) was pulled to his feet and walking towards the health office. Kuroo yelled something over to a nearby coach, who nodded and let him continue to the office.

“Wh-but it was just a bump-?!”

Kuroo held his fingers to his lips. “Dude, I’m bailing you out from practice for a few minutes, the least you can do is thank me.”

(Y/n) let his mouth fall closed. He furrowed his brows with a huff as he walked in silence.

Kuroo Tetsurou is such a kind person.

——

(Y/n) flopped onto the nurse's office’s bed face down, sighing into the dense mattress. It wasn’t even that comfortable, but to a tired volleyball player, it was like laying on warm clouds.

“Air conditioning feels so niiiiiiiice...” (Y/n) sunk deeper into the school-provided pillows, his sweat beginning to cool as the AC blew cold air into the room. Kuroo closed the office door, so no one would catch them ditching, and sat down on the bed next to (Y/n).

He sat there for a few seconds, testing the waters, before slowly laying down beside (Y/n). He looked up from the pillow, an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at Kuroo laying down.

“Am I not allowed to lay down?”

“Well-it’s just—“

“Calm down, (Y/n),” Kuroo chuckled. He shifted from his spot on the small bed, laying on his side and facing (Y/n). “Just cause I like you doesn’t mean I’m gonna pounce on you while we’re resting or something.”

“I’m tired too.”

Kuroo pulled up the folded blanket to both of their shoulders. (Y/n) shrunk back into the mattress slightly when Kuroo placed the bed sheet over him. “If they ask where we were, just say I was icing your forehead or something.”

Kuroo settled into the bed. In seconds, (Y/n) could’ve sworn he was already out like a light, quietly snoring while he wrapped his arms around himself atop the blanket. It didn’t help that the bed was small, made for people of normal height and certainly only for one person.

Especially with Kuroo, almost 6’2; (Y/n) was closer to Kuroo’s face than he would have liked.

He saw the way Kuroo’s chest would flutter every time he took a deep breath in, or the way his impossibly messy hair fell into his face, making it even more untamable than it already is. Or the way his lips were so deliciously parted, making his face look relaxed and peaceful.

He could stare at it forever. He could stare at him forever. And it was scary.

(Y/n) clutched the fabric of his shirt that clung right over his heart. There was no way he could sleep like this. Not when he was so close to Kuroo Tetsurou...

But even as he thought that, both of them somehow woke up entangled in each others arms, comfortable, and skipping practice peacefully. Not even Coach Nekomata had the heart to wake them up when he so curiously wandered into the health office looking for the two. Which is why they didn’t until Yaku dragged Kuroo forcefully onto the ground, bringing (Y/n) down with him.

——

(Y/n) thinks he knows why it felt so bad.

It wasn’t as hard to figure out. After all, the warm, fluttery feeling he felt as he woke up so suddenly, on the ground staring up at Yaku while directly on Kuroo’s chest was too telling.

The feelings he tried so hard to forget were resurfacing again. And he hated it.

Don’t get him wrong, Kuroo openly admitted to liking him just a few days ago, and just yesterday he woke up on top of his chest, but it was almost embarrassing to admit he was falling all over again. He didn’t want to. God, he didn’t want to.

Suck it up, keep it inside until training camp is over. That’s what he told himself. Then (Y/n) wouldn’t have to see Kuroo’s stupid, lovable face all day every day. Maybe then these feelings would bubble over again. That easy.

“(Y/n)~!”

Or so he thought.

Kuroo came jogging up to (Y/n), a plate of breakfast in his hand as he slumped down in the seat next to him. Kuroo dug into his breakfast, piling rice into his mouth as (Y/n) hummed out a greeting.

Kuroo swallowed a big lump of rice thickly. He clasped his hands together, before rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “Sorry about yesterday...totally didn’t expect to fall asleep on you...or koala you while I was sleeping…”

“S’fine…” (Y/n) said, hungrily shoveling food into his mouth. He barely heard anything that Kuroo said over the sound of his stomach rumbling. Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yesh.” (Y/n) chewed, thought about it, then swallowed. “...No.”

“(Y/nnnnn)!” Kuroo banged on the table lightly as he whined jokingly. (Y/n) chuckled into his plate of rice.

“Kidding, kidding! Yeah, I heard-”

“Though I wouldn’t blame you if it went totally over your head there. Y’know, since you’re so dense sometimes~”

“Fuckin-Tetsurou!”

Kuroo cackled as (Y/n) spat rice at him while he sputtered. His laugh was unrestrained, and as funny-sounding as it was, it sounded so genuine and wholehearted that you couldn’t help but listen as his laughter sang. It was stupid. It was Kuroo.

(Y/n) stopped laughing before Kuroo, stopping unconsciously to listen to his contagious laugh. He only then realized he called him by his first name habitually, like he’d done years ago. As his laughter died down, (Y/n) quickly turned to his plate of half-eaten food to avoid being caught staring at him.

“Ahhhh sorry sorry-you’re just very fun to-Kenma! Get off you’re psp and eat, damnit!”

Kuroo stood up from the table, pointing at Kenma, who was trying to somehow hide himself behind Hinata. Kuroo turned back to (Y/n). “Sorry, let me grab Kenma’s psp real quick. He was gonna sit next to us until he saw Shrimpy over there, and he’s probably too busy showing him his games to eat. Gimme a sec, ‘kay?”

Kuroo fled from the table, disappearing off to nag Kenma like a mom. (Y/n) picked up his chopsticks, picking up a small veggie with his sticks when a phone buzzed.

(Y/n) fished his phone out of his pocket, switching it on only to be met with a blank screen with his background photo. A picture of him and Kuroo posing in front of a ramen shop’s fish mascot, pretending to eat it as Kenma set his hand on the fish to contribute to the photo. No notifications. It wasn’t his phone.

The phone buzzed again, and it was only then (Y/n) realized it was the phone on the table, in the seat directly next to him. Kuroo’s seat. It was Kuroo’s phone.

(Y/n) pursed his lips. He grabbed the phone, intending to turn it off or dismiss the notification, when his eyes caught the message banner.

One new message from “Yumemite”

Huh. He could’ve sworn the last time he’d seen Kuroo’s phone, her contact name was somewhere along the lines of “Cutie Yumi <3” or “love of my life”. But it was what was under that banner that really peaked his interest.

‘hows it goin with (Y/n)????’

(Y/n) knew he shouldn’t intrude on Kuroo’s texts. It was a breach of privacy, and Kuroo could come back any second. Still, the message was about him, so he had a right to know...right?

He typed in Kuroo’s password the last he remembered it. Yumemite’s birthday. Quickly typing in the digits, his cringed slightly when the words ‘INCORRECT PASSWORD’ glared at him, and erased the wrong password from the text box.

(Y/n) glared back at Kuroo’s phone, even as he felt a sense of pride that Yumi’s birthday wasn’t the answer. He typed in Kuroo’s own birthday into the text box with a smirk.

The screen flashed ‘INCORRECT PASSWORD’ once again.

Now, this really got (Y/n) confused. Kuroo was very basic with passwords. His birthday, or someone else’s birthday like his mom, had always been his go-to password. But it was almost always his own birthday. (Y/n) gulped, and hesitantly typed in one more birthday into the box.

The screen slid up, granting him access to Kuroo’s phone. (Y/n) couldn’t tell if his stomach dropped or if his chest exploded with butterflies.

The number he had typed in was his own birthday.

(Y/n) shook the butterflies off, clicking on the messages app and opening the conversation with Yumemite. He scrolled up until his name wasn’t mentioned in conversation anymore, which was a few days ago, the day he rejected Kuroo to be precise.

Yumemite - howd it go??

Yumemite - he said yes right??

Kuroo - no

Kuroo - brb gonna go listen to mitski and cry :,)

Yumemite - AWWW IM SO SORRY :(((((

Kuroo - wait lmao dont be i was joking

Yumemite - ?

Yumemite - wait so he said yes-?

Kuroo - well- no

Kuroo - he rejected me but tbh id rather be his friend than not have him in my life at all yk??

Kuroo - like i can learn to get over him but itd fuckin suck if i lost him altogether

Kuroo - hes too important to me for that

Kuroo - i love him too much >>>

Yumemite - gay

Kuroo - shut up u literally have a gf

Yumemite - yeah <3 unlike one of us

Kuroo - I JUST GOT REJECTED AND YOURE PULLING THAT SHIT

(Y/n) smiled to himself as he read through the texts. He felt oddly happy that he was ‘important enough’ to Kuroo that he’d be willing to stay as friends even though he was rejected.

(Y/n) switched off the phone as he heard approaching footsteps. He slid the phone back into its place as Kuroo slumped back in his seat, psp in hand.

He hoped he didn’t notice.

——

(Y/n) wished he didn’t know why he felt so bad. Now that he knew, it just felt worse.

Every little touch, every little ‘(Y/n)~!’, hell, every little glance he sent his way sent shivers down (Y/n) spine. And he hated it.

He hated how he couldn’t stop himself from falling hopelessly in love with Kuroo Tetsurou all over again.

He wasn’t deliberately doing anything to get him to fall so bad either. No flirtatious comments, touches that get a little too personal, nothing. It was just Kuroo being his friend, and that made it one-hundred times worse.

Did that mean Kuroo got over him that quickly? Did he not like him anymore, and that’s why he was so comfortable sleeping in the same bed as him? Or laughing and touching him all buddy-buddy during breakfast? Did he-

Did he really move on that quickly?

(Y/n) ran fingers through his hair as he walked into the gym. It should’ve been a good thing, Kuroo moving on. He should’ve been happy about that. So why wasn’t he? Why…

“KUROOOOO! YOU ROOSTER SHIIIIIIIIT!”

Bokuto’s voice boomed from behind (Y/n). He jumped, but before he could turn around, an arm snatched his wrist and pulled him along.

(Y/n) legs ran faster than he could keep up with. Kuroo lay ahead, sprinting as fast as he could with (Y/n’s) wrist in his clutch. He looked from a cackling Kuroo’s back, to Bokuto chasing behind them.

“Wh-?!”

“I stole all of Bokuto’s underwear from his bag while he was in the shower.” Kuroo said between jagged pants as he turned a sharp corner. (Y/n) stumbled along, trying to keep up.

“And you brought me along why?!”

“Hey-! I didn’t mean to! You were just right in front of me and you were like-thinking about something so you probably didn’t hear me screaming to get outta the way so I just grabbed you-!”

Fair enough. (Y/n) huffed as Kuroo hurriedly opened up a storage closet and ducked into it.

It was fairly big, about the size of a volleyball club room and very, very dark. (Y/n) could barely see the faint outline of Kuroo’s jawline as he felt around the doorknob, snickering.

“Shit-there’s no lock…”

“Kurooooooo!”

“Fuck! Uh-!”

Kuroo looked around as he heard Bokuto’s footsteps nearing the closet. Looking at (Y/n), he could very clearly see the bright white of his shirt, contrasting the way Kuroo’s black one blended into the dark. If Bokuto barged in, he’d see (Y/n), which would lead to him finding Kuroo, and...well.

Without thinking, Kuroo pushed (Y/n) against the corner of the room, placing each of his hands on either side of him as he practically smushed himself against him. The door barged open, faint yellow light flooding into the dark room as Bokuto angrily stomped in.

Kuroo mouthed a “Don’t...move…” as slowly as he could to avoid his lips smacking or making noise, and he’s pretty sure he got the message with how utterly close their faces were to touching.

(Y/n) was so close he could practically count the eyelashes on Kuroo’s pretty eyes. Were Kuroo’s eyes always so bright? They looked hypnotic and endless as he looked off to the side, trying to see Bokuto searching the closet childishly.

(Y/n) swallowed the lump in his throat as quietly as he could, pressing against the wall as much as humanly possible with how close Kuroo was.

Bokuto huffed, nearing Kuroo and (Y/n’s) hiding spot. Kuroo unconsciously pressed closer, hoping Bokuto wouldn’t see the white of (Y/n’s) shirt. Things disappear with the color black in the dark, he just hoped Bokuto was dumb enough to not see Kuroo’s hair or his black shirt.

Kuroo’s face was so close to (Y/n) that they were practically pressing on eachother. Kuroo’s lips lay a mere centimeter away from (Y/n), one push from Bokuto, one slip from Kuroo, hell, one little gust of wind and they’d lock lips anytime soon.

Kuroo couldn’t help but stare into (Y/n’s) wide eyes with a sweaty, flushed face. (Y/n) couldn’t tear his eyes off of Kuroo’s half-lidded golden ones, especially with the way his lips were so tantalizingly close…

They jumped, however, when Bokuto kicked over a bucket with a loud “Hey, hey, hey!”. They both tensed as Bokuto pouted once more.

“I know you two are in here-!”

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto whipped his head around.

“Akgashfgjhi!”

Akaashi held up a pair of light blue boxers. “He missed one. Put them on before your pants start to smell. We’ll find him later.”

When Akaashi appeared, (Y/n) didn’t know. Neither did Kuroo. Nevertheless, Bokuto swiped the boxers from Akaashi gratefully, and turned back to the “empty” room.

“I’ll pay you back for this! Stupid Kuroo! Dumb rooster! I’m comin’ back for my underwear! Hey, hey, hey!”

Bokuto’s voice faded away as he left the storage room. Kuroo sighed in relief. (Y/n’s) head and vision felt hazy and cloudy as Kuroo let out a breathy laugh, still very close to each other's faces.

“I bet Bokuto wasn’t wearing any underwear, how disgusting.” Kuroo chuckled, beginning to pull away from their very cramped position in the corner. (Y/n) looked at Kuroo’s shiny ember eyes, down to his plush-looking lips. His face was still mere centimeters away from his own, then they locked eyes and suddenly (Y/n) wasn’t thinking about Yumemite or his regret anymore.

It wasn’t just a little kiss. Not like a little peck or a hesitant first kiss with your highschool boyfriend on your first date. It was grab-him-by-the-neck, bury-your-fingers-into-his-messy-hair, why-was-I-so-scared-about-loving-you-again kissing right against the wall of the storage closet.

(Y/n) pressed his back against the wall, bringing Kuroo in as close as his body could. Kuroo circled one of his hands around (Y/n’s) waist, letting the other rest on the wall and for seven seconds everything was bliss until-

Kuroo pushed himself back, pushing (Y/n) off him and letting his head hang down.

He pushed. (Y/n). Off. Of. Him. He wouldn’t mind if the wall would open up and swallow him whole. Kuroo didn’t look at him, he refused to, as he kept his arms on (Y/n’s) shoulders to keep his distance.

“...why did you do tha-”

“Don’t you like me, Tetsurou?”

Kuroo finally looked up at the waverly tamber of (Y/n) voice.

“...What?”

“Just a few days ago, you were telling me how much you loved me,” tears stung at (Y/n’s) eyes like heavy weights. He grasped onto Kuroo’s wrists that were on his shoulders, albeit a bit looser than it previously was. “Why is it any different now…?!”

“Wait-(Y/n-” Kuroo was cut off when (Y/n) gripped his wrists tighter.

“Did you...did you really get over me that quickly…? Do you really not love me anymore?!”

Tears began dripping down (Y/n’s) cheeks. Kuroo retracted his hands back, only to have the collar of his shirt grabbed and tugged harshly towards him.

“Wait, (Y/n), listen-”

“No! Shut up!” (Y/n) pushed Kuroo up against a rack behind him, drawing up a grunt from Kuroo. He was about to say something, or maybe push (Y/n’s) arms off of him, when he heard a choked sob, followed by wavering lips and free flowing tears. “It’s not fair..!”

“Why are these feelings coming back..?! Why now! ....I rejected you, there’s...there’s no way you’d like me now…! Especially how fine and buddy-buddy you’ve been acting, it’s clear you moved on! Why do I always choose to like you at the worst times?! Why…”

(Y/n) sobbed, tears cascading in the air as he shook Kuroo up. Kuroo was about to open his mouth again when it ran dry, as (Y/n’s) grip on his shirt tightened even more.

“Why do these feelings always come back when you’re done with me?! When you don’t like me! It won’t leave me alone…! I waited and waited and waited and the one chance I had I threw it away…! But then I just had to love you again when you moved on!”

He melted into a pile of hics and violent sobs, grasping onto Kuroo’s shirt for dear life. Kuroo couldn’t find the words to speak at that moment. He hesitantly put his hands on (Y/n), stabilizing him as he cried into his chest.

“S’not fair...it’s not…” (Y/n) hiccuped. “Not fair...it’s alway you...why do I always come back...to you…”

Kuroo stayed silent for a second. (Y/n), once again, wished the wall would swallow him up. Kuroo then trailed his hand up to (Y/n’s) damp cheek, guiding it up to look at his face.

“When have I ever said I was over you, (Y/n)…” Kuroo’s voice was soft, gentle and scared of shattering the glass that was (Y/n). “Actually...as iffy as it seems...you saying all of this made me sorta...happy…”

(Y/n) sniffed, staring at Kuroo with raw eyes and waiting for him to go on. Kuroo stroked his face with his thumb, catching any stray tears falling from his eye.

“I’ve been really, really sad since you rejected me...I guess I was just that good of an actor since you didn’t notice how much I thought about kissing you and holding you like this everyday while we hung out as ‘friends’…”

Kuroo let his head loll back onto the metal pole rack behind him. “I was just pretending to be happy being your friend—when actually I just wanted to tear my eyes out and scream how much I love you, (Y/n).”

Kuroo gently grasped (Y/n’s) hand, giving him a tentative kiss on the knuckles. (Y/n) scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand, before cupping the hand resting on his cheek. Kuroo looked up from his hand. “This ok?” He asked. (Y/n) nodded with eyes red and numb from crying.

“Then how about this?”

The hand that was resting placidly on (Y/n’s) face brought him closer and closer until their lips met once more.

Kuroo snaked his arms around his waist, pulling him in closer until their bodies were touching. (Y/n) suddenly understood why people described kissing as melting, because every single square inch of his body dissolved into his. He felt weak in the knees, and all of his guilt, all of his regret washed away with each passing second he was in Kuroo’s arms.

Eventually, the two separated for air, half lidded eyes and staring into each other like one would disappear the moment they took their eyes off of them.

Kuroo buried himself into the crook of (Y/n) neck, inhaling deeply. “Aaaaah, i’m so happy right now…”

As Kuroo nuzzled into his shoulder, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think about how much of an absolute mess this whole thing was. Sobbing onto Kuroo, violently shaking him while screaming in his face about how much he loved him, before kissing him again in the corner of a dark storage closet. It was a mess, sure, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And that was something.

——————

Haha..pls...giv serotonin in the comments or reblog tags or smth...would like...to hear...

[fireflykaizoku]

Sanji x Reader | Man of my Dreams

This is a bit short, but I kinda had this idea before falling asleep, so I'm pretty sure there's more I wanted to write about, but I forgot by the time I woke up :')

ღ

— Can you believe I had the same dream again last night? ꟷ you told your friend on your way to your job at a cafeteria. ꟷ I can’t see all of his face, but I feel like it’s the same man from all the other dreams. And we met at the same spot we always meet.

ꟷ It has to mean something, maybe he’s your future husband? Tell me more about this dream, we can try to interpret it again. ꟷ she asked, always curious about your frequent dreams.

ꟷ It’s the same from the others, it only changes a few things, like the people around us, or the clothes I’m wearing. But the other things are just the same.

For the past few months, you kept having pretty much the same dream almost every night. You’re leaving work at afternoon, the weather is always the same as well, warm but with some nice breeze. You decide to stop somewhere to buy some groceries or whatever. But when you’re about to get the last apple, a man gets it at the same time, touching your hand by accident.

You can’t see his face, but you remember that you saw his blonde hair and his unusual eyebrows and a black suit. He is always very gentle, and let’s you keep the last apple. He kisses your hand and introduces himself, but when he’s about to say his name, you wake up. Sometimes with your alarm clock, sometimes out of the blue in the middle of the night, as if you weren’t meant to know who he was.

It started to annoy after the fifth time. Why that same dream? Why that man? It couldn’t be just coincidence, they had to mean something. But what is it? Is he a soulmate? Was he simply a random stranger you met somewhere, and your subconscious made you dream of him constantly?

You started working and ended up forgetting about the dream.

It was past 5PM when you left work. Before going home, you stopped at some store to buy some fruits since you’ve been craving some orange juice

The store was quite crowded, since many people were just leaving work by this time. So you hurried to make sure you’d be able to get everything from your list.

Heading to the alley where the vegetables and fruits where located, you noticed only a few oranges left, so you made your way quickly, grabbing a few, not even noticing someone next to you, looking for the fruits as well.

You felt a hand touch yours by mistake for a second. The touch felt strangely familiar.

Looking up, you saw a man. It was that man, with blonde hair, curly brows, smoking a cigarette and wearing a suit. Your jaw dropped at the sight, and let go of the orange. For some reason, he reacted the same way, in shock and staring at you as if he saw a ghost.

ꟷ Sorry… I’m… I’m Sanji. ꟷ he said, still staring.

ꟷ (Y/N)… ꟷ you replied, still staring. ꟷ I don’t want to sound crazy, but…

ꟷ I’ve been seeing you in my dreams for a while. ꟷ he completed as if he could read your thoughts. ꟷ The same dream, over and over. But I never got to see your face fully, nor know your name.

Wait, him too?!

So that was a sign?

ꟷ I’ve been having dreams about you too for months now. ꟷ you smiled, still shy. He was still a stranger after all. ꟷ Do you think it has a meaning?

ꟷ I believe so. It probably means destiny helped me to find the person I want by my side forever.

For sure he was a gentleman, just like he was in your dreams.

ღ

tag list: @flowersgirl02 - @pure-kirarin - @lofi-coffee

[an-actual-angel]

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x Reader, Collin (RK800-60) x Reader, Richard (RK900) x Reader

Summary: The year was 2082. 44 Years after the android revolution. Things have turned south for humanity. Androids now rule the world, leaving humans to be considered as mere animals. While some Androids still have a general disdain for humanity some have taken to the idea of keeping them as “family pets.” You, born in captivity, specifically bred to be the perfect pet happen to get adopted by the RK brothers.

(If anyone wants to be added to the tag list, either dm or reply to this post <3)

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Chapter 36 -  Running away is easy, Its the leaving that's hard

It had almost been two weeks since you last saw Connor and Collin. It had been tough, to say the least, you missed them like crazy. You would constantly check your phone for messages that would never come. Perhaps it didn’t take them long at all to forget about you. You couldn’t let yourself get too upset about it though, this was your decision. Maybe it was easier for them to keep their distance. It would probably work out better this way in the end.

Danny was right when he said that life in the settlement wasn't going to be glamorous, it was hard work, something you weren’t used to, coming from living cushy in a penthouse. You mostly helped out with farming the land and tending to the chickens, feeding them, cleaning out their coop, collecting eggs, etc. You also got stuck with the job of babysitting some kids from time to time. It was good to keep busy though, to keep your mind away from androids.

When you had free time, you spent it mostly with Emily, catching up, attempting to look after her, although insisted she didn’t need the fuss.

You had been staying in Emily’s shack, it was just you her and her cat Pepper, but you made a good little family. You wondered whatever happened to the father of Emily’s child, she didn’t want to talk about him too much, whoever he was. She’d just say he was away.

You didn’t want to push her but your overbearing curiosity would not sit at peace. Some other ladies around the settlement had told you he had been taken by androids.

What Emily did tell you about the child’s father was that his name was James and he was the one that saved her from the adoption centre. Well, he’d been one of the humans in the midst of the one of the riots in the city who also happened to help some of the humans escape the centre.

“Took down two androids right in front of my eyes, that how I knew he was the one.” She laughed.  

“He took down two androids? On his own?” You spluttered out, not believing her.

“Yeah, with one of these,” Emily smirked handing you over a baton.

Taking it in your hand you examine it, slightly confused until you see a button near the bottom. “Is this one of the electric ones the cops use?”

“Yep, can take out an android with a few quick buzzes.” She points her chin at you and smiles. “That’s my man, always got the good weapons.”

“I’m quite surprised you settled on a man honestly.” You smirked, “Last time I saw you, you were giving puppy dog eyes to Olivia.” You cock your head to the side, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah, I did have a thing for her, until she got adopted and you know. Kinda couldn’t see her anymore.”

“Liv got adopted?”

“Yeah.” Emily shrugged plainly and looked away.

“I’m sorry Emily.” You reach out your hand to touch hers.

“Why are you sorry?” She shakes her head, pulling her hand away from yours to rest on her baby bump.

“It just must have been lonely for you, without me and Liv.” You bite at the broken skin on your bottom lip.

“Yeah it was a bit, but then I met James.” She smiled a little but it faded fast. “He’ll come back you know.” She said quickly, more telling it as a way to convince herself, rather than you.

You nod back to her, not wanting to hurt your friend. “Of course Emily.”

Her hand wipes at her eye a little. “Best be getting to bed.” She stands to her feet. “You should as well” she smiles placing her hand on your shoulder.

“That’s probably a good idea.” You nod. “Big day tomorrow.”

___

You woke to the sun shining through the thin material of your makeshift curtain, with a rub of your eyes and a quick stretch you were up to start your day. Making breakfast for yourself and Emily was first on the list and then feeding Emily’s cat Pepper was second. The next few hours would be spent outside on the farm tending to some of the plants and vegetables, you would do this until lunchtime when you would have a quick bite to eat and then on to the ‘town’ meeting, a quick impromptu one that had been called by Danny.

They had received word from another settlement, one not too far from them that they would aid them in their next city raid.

“City raid?” You whispered to Emily, not understanding what he had meant.

“Yeah, we’d been planning this one for a while.” She whispers back quickly. ���It’s how we get more weapons, people, stuff like that.”

“Does Connor know you guys have been doing this?” You ask.

“No. but he doesn’t need to know.” She shrugs. “We send our doughboys out with masks anyway.”

“Doughboys?” You asked even more confused than before.

“Yeah, our fighters.” She snaps as she furrows her brows. “Don’t you listen?” realising how quick she was with you she apologises “Sorry, I forgot that you’re still new around here. We call our ‘recruits’” she says with parenthesis. “Doughboys, and they get shit done. I was one before, well before y’know.” She rubs her bump.

“Never pegged you as a fighter.”

“Well, I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me then.” She laughs.

“Ladies,” Danny calls Emily and your attention back to him.

“This time it’s going to be the big one.” Danny looks around at everyone’s faces. “There are people from other settlements in the city as we speak. It’s almost our time to join them. Three days. Three more days!” His weathered hand hits the table he was standing in front of. “And we're getting our boys back.”

You notice Emily nod to Danny, her lip wobbles as she turns to you.

“James.” she half-smiles half whimpers as her hand grabs yours.

You give her hand a tight squeeze and whisper a silent prayer that they will indeed find him alive and well.

As the day goes on most of the camp seems in a mixture of excitement and fear about the upcoming raid.

The ‘Doughboys’ as Emily called them, coordinating their plan of attack, parents ensuring their children that everything will work out, farmers, bakers, and medics in a tizzy to prepare the needed supplies.

As the evening settles in you begin to worry for Emily, what if they can’t find James? what if he’s not even alive?

Poor Emily has been through so much. She doesn’t deserve any more grief.

A part of you wants to tell her to not get her hopes up but saying that would be cruel. You just nod along and try to keep her comfortable. After dinner Emily ends up falling asleep on the recliner chair she had been sitting on. As you wrap a blanket over her shoulders you realise that you're almost out of firewood and the fire its self is beginning to dwindle down.

Grabbing one of Emily’s cloaks from a hanger, you drape it over your shoulders before heading out on your quest to seek out more wood.

Wooden logs were usually kept in an area just west of the settlement, it was a little walk through the trees but not too far. You usually preferred going out when it was brighter. The light from your phone only made the place look creepier. The quietness of the area didn’t help either, if it wasn’t for the noises made by nearby animals the place would be downright eerie. At least you could still see the warm glow of the settlement in the distance through the trees.  

You knelt down on dry dirt to pick up some of the logs from the bottom of the pile to put in the wicker basket that you had brought with you. After you make your selection you stand back to your feet and dust off the dirt of your clothes. Just as you are about to reach down for your basket again you are abruptly stopped by a large hand being placed over your mouth as well as an arm wrapping around your front holding both your arms in place so that you cannot struggle from the grasp. You try to wrestle your way out of the grasp in a fit of fear but a familiar voice sends you into shock.

“Please calm down.”

Is that?

Your body is frozen.

“I only grabbed you like this in case you screamed. Sorry, it was a bit abrupt, I know.”

Your heart begins to thump harder in your chest but this time not from fear.

“When I let go, please don’t scream.” The voice pleads.

You manage to nod your head, still, in your state of shock, the hands and arm loosen from you and you try to steady yourself on your feet before turning around.

You take a deep breath as you slowly move on your feet towards the person whose grip you had just been in.

“Richard.” You exhale deeply.

His tongue wets his lip before he attempts to speak, however, you cut him off.

“What are you doing here!? If anyone sees you!” You shout in a whisper at him.

“Look, I know, I know.” He lifts his hands in defence. “I was just lucky that you happened to be out here so I didn't have to go in there.” He gestures his head towards the settlement.

“Don’t dare step foot in there.” Your eyes widen as if he’s gone mad.

“I won’t, I won’t… If you come back.”

“What? No.” You shake your head.

“No?”

“I can’t Richard. I belong here.”

“Y/N, Look at this place. It’s disgusting.” He shakes his head as he scans his eyes across the poorly put together ‘town’. “Surviving on scraps, like an animal. You have a nice home, come back.” He reaches out to hold your hands.

You lift your brows to look up at him, your mouth becoming straight as you shake your head and slowly pull your hands away.

“I can’t, I just can’t.” You pick your basket off the ground and turn to walk away from the android.

“I’ll give you anything!” He shouts out. You turn your head to him.

“I’ll do anything.” He moves towards you again. “Just say the word. Please.”

He reaches his hand towards yours once more, his other caressing your cheek.

“I’ll even help with the rebellion.” He whispers.

“The rebellion?” You look up at him, your face plagued with even more confusion.

“Whatever it is the humans are planning. I can help, I can be of use just, please come back.” He begs his forehead now resting against yours.

“Wha- I don't understand. Why?” You whisper to him, closing your eyes as you press your forehead back against his.

“Because I love you.”

________________________________________________________________

Chapter 37 -  Alrighty Aphrodite

You had entered the settlement on your own again. Going back to your shack, you had to explain the situation to Emily.

“If he can get James back.” She stopped for a minute to steady her breath. “Then I’m on board.”

After a quick hug and farewell, you had a bag packed and you were off.

“I’ll be back.” You said once more to Emily before leaving.

“I know.” She nods.

Richard had been waiting for you just outside the gateway, you had told him to wait there so he wouldn’t spook the residents.

“I can carry that” Richard insist, taking your bag from your hands, before you could say anything he had it thrown over his shoulder. You bite at your lips not really knowing what to say but walking through the forested area with him in silence.

“It’s not too far of a walk to the car,” He said. “I did try to park as close as I could.”

You just nod and continue to walk. After another while of insufferable silence, you finally speak up to him.

“So, is it true?” You turn towards the Android. “Do you really love me?”

His eyes fall to the ground for a moment as he continues on. “Yes.” He fell quiet again for a moment before continuing on. “I think I first began to realise when Collin got in that accident. You stayed with him.” He let out an artificial sigh. “I started to think about if something had happened to you and-” He shrugged.

“It took me a long time to come to grips with my feelings as you could probably tell. I never experience this type of emotion before.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You tilt your head attempting to make eye contact, his gaze still avoiding yours as he trudged forward.

“I was an idiot. A scared fool.”

“You are an idiot.” You stop for a minute causing Richard to stop as well, he moves closer to you, to see if you are alright. Taking him by surprise you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. Richard hums for a second moving away slowly, he looks into your eyes before he tries to kiss your lips.

You however hold your hand out and say “I can't do that, I have boyfriends.” Before walking on.

“Yeah, ones that left you behind.” Richard sighs moving again to walk beside you.

“They did that to protect me.”

“Connor in his twisted reasoning. He probably did it more to protect himself. He is selfish. You have no idea what your leaving has done to Collin.” Richard grumbles.

“So you’re guilt-tripping me now?” You roll your eyes.

“I’m just saying.” Richard grunts, re-adjusting your bag against his back. “Why’d you not bring your suitcase?”

“This is just temporary.” You shrug.

“I see.”

“How’s Connor doing?” You change the subject before Richard tries to convince you to stay forever.

“He’s stressed about all of the attacks that have been happening in the city and he’s stressed because Collins current mental stability is not too fun. I think it would cheer him up to see you.”

“Yeah and he might murder you for bringing me.” You quip back.

“True. I guess we’ll just have to see.” He retorts as you notice Richard’s car parked in the distance. He did park quite close. Something Connor would also be pissed about.

“How did you find me anyway?” You ask the question that’s been on your mind since you first saw him.

“I’m afraid the truth of the matter might unsettle you a little.” He explains as his car beeps at his arrival.

“Go on.” You encourage him. “You can’t stop now.”

“I am one of the most advanced androids in existence.” He explains whilst throwing your bag in the back of his car. He then opens the passenger side door for you to get in. When you do he leans down to your ear to whisper, “I’m everywhere.” And with that, he closes the door.

You sit for a moment in contemplation as he gets into his side of the car to sit down. As he puts his seat belt on you turn to him with confusion on your face. “Did you hack my phone?”

Richard rolls his eyes as he starts up the car. “I was able to tap into the journey history of Connor's vehicle. I knew he was behind all of this.” He begins to explain as his own car sets out.

“When I got to the location of the factory I was able to scan for signs of nearby technology. Your settlement stood out like a beacon. Didn’t take too long for me to tap into some phones that were being used yes, and then I saw you.”

“Can other androids do all that?”

“Not a lot can. And definitely not to the extent that I can. As I say, I’m everywhere. Any piece of technology, I can tap into if I desire so.” Richard explains proudly.

“So, do you ever use it to spy on people?”

“Only if necessary.”

“You ever watch people naked?” You smirk a little.

Richard’s brows furrow as he blushes slightly. “No, I would not do that.”

You burst out in laughter at his defensiveness. “I’m just teasing.”

Richard adjusts his shirt collar in discomfort. “Indeed.” He replies dryly.

You smile and rest your head against the back of the seat.

“You know you can lie in the back if you want, it’s a long drive and you could do with some sleep.”

You swivel your seat around to look at the back seat, assessing it. Swapping your seat with your bag that had been put in the back and lay down on the cool leather.

“You don’t have any blankets do you?” You ask Richard as you attempt to find some level of comfort on the cold seat.

“No, sorry. I can turn the heat up if you like?”

“hmmpf.” You think for a minute. “Isn’t this car self-driving?”

“Yes,” Richard replies, not really sure at what you’re getting at.

“Why don’t you just put in the destination and then come back here and lie with me?”

His LED begins flashing red. “I think Connor would definitely try and kill me if we sleep with each other again.” Richard stammers.

“I wasn’t suggesting we have sex, oh my god!” You smack your hand over your mouth to not laugh.

Richard's face began to turn in cringe, “oh I just thought-”

“I meant so we could cuddle.” You explain, smirk still present on your face.

“Do you think Collin and Connor would be okay with that?”

“I think they’d be angrier if you let me get sick from the cold.” You tease.

“That is a fair point.” Richard raises a brow as he puts in the location for the car to self-drive. When he has it tapped in, he too swivels around in his seat to move to the back with you.

Richard is a little awkward at first as he clumsily shifted to lay down in the backseat with you, eventually pulling you into his chest. The thrum of his thirium pump makes you grin in triumph as he settles his head to rest on top of yours. Richard then changes his body temperature to a comfortable setting so that he could be your personal radiator for the next few hours.

Was this weird? Absolutely. Was this wrong? Maybe. Was this comfortable? YES.

But you allowed yourself the brief comfort of being in Richard's arms, even if it was just for this one night. Maybe you felt like you deserved it, you were entitled to some amount of comfort after all the crap you’ve been through.

A part of you was angry and Collin and Connor for not reaching out, even to send a measly little text message. Your more rational mind told you to drop it, something might have come up, you didn’t know the full story, and maybe it was too hard for them. Although that didn’t stop it from stinging your ego any less.

You managed to drift off to sleep rather quickly, that was one of the benefits from all the hard work you had been up to at the settlement, sleep found you a whole lot quicker. Richard had stayed beside you for the majority of the journey as well, cherishing the feeling of having you in his arms once again. Deciding to himself to never be without this feeling anymore. His face snuck its way between your neck and collar bone to take in your scent and to delicately place his lips against your skin just for a sweet moment of indulgence. He had to wiggle his hips away from yours so you would not awake with his growing hardness against your ass.

Feeling a little guilty for his body’s response he decided to give you some space, sliding his form out from the side, slowly as not to wake you. He couldn’t help but smiling down at how comfortable you seemed as he made his way back to the driver’s seat, the seat still swivelled around to face the back.

Richard did eventually wake you up as the car pulled into the private garage area for the RK’s apartment building.

“We're here, little dove.” He coos to you, brushing his knuckles down the length of your arm.

Your eyes squinted open, feeling blinded by the violently bright fluorescent lights of the garage you had found yourself in. Looking down you had noticed one of Richard's coats had been draped over you. You rubbed your eyes briefly before reaching down to it to hand it over to Richard.

“You put it on.” He insisted, pushing it back towards you. “At least until we get inside. It gets cold in the garage, at least that’s what my sensors tell me.”

You didn’t object you just nodded in silence, still in that groggy half sleep-like state. Throwing the oversized coat onto yourself you open the car door and hop out, Richard grabbing your bag soon follows behind, hand on your shoulder as he directs you towards the elevator.

It felt strange being back in the city, even stranger to see the apartment building again.

When you entered back into your old home, it had felt different somehow, a little bit eerie even. Suppose it didn’t help that most of the lights were off.

“Collin and Connor are both out at the moment.” Richard finally spoke up again, leading you by the shoulder into the dark living room, with a flash of his LED the lights were on.

You squinted again at the harshness of them before Richard had dimmed them to a more pleasing brightness level.

“Why don’t you go and get a nice hot bath and I can put your stuff away.” He awkwardly half-smiles over at you.

“Are you sure?” You ask skittishly.

“Of course.” He tilts his head in confusion, it’s not like having YOU here was any bother to him, he was bloody delighted. “After that, I can go get my brothers?”

“Right now?” You stuttered out the question, fidgeting with the large sleeves of Richard’s coat that you had forgotten to take off.

“Do you want some time before?” Richard asked, head tilting once more, exposing his pale neck to you.

You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. “I don’t know, maybe. It’s not that I don’t want to see them. This is all just a little overwhelming.”

“I understand.” Richard nods. “Just one thing at a time.”

You look up at him once more, catching his cool eyes in a stare, you nod. “A hot bath sounds good.”

________________________________________________________________

Notes:  I lowkey called Emily's love interest James after Bucky Barnes (cause for some reason I imaging him looking like Bucky lol)

Sorry I'd been gone for a while, just been really busy with work and general life stuff.

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Taglist: @connorsdimple @clussysposts @iris-suoh​ @jellicorn05​

(Let me know if  anyone  need added or removed from the tag list!)

[americasmarauders]

I Had a Dream--Jason ToddxReader.

Summary: She dreamed about him once. And then he appeared in front of her and she just couldn’t believe it. 

words: 9,756

author’s note: so, here it is. the last of this year. this one is special. it’s based on a dream i had with a guy I went to middle school with. I mentioned it on the group chat and @batarella​ said this sounds like a fic, write it. and so I did. It’s immensely personal. Basically reader is me, the friends I mention are my actual friends and the coversations with the therapist are vaguely based on conversations I had with my own therapist (specially the first one). I hope y’all like it. I had a blast writing it. Special thanks to my best friend Julia and @offendedfishnoises​ for proofreading it. Also thanks to every one in the group chat who cheared me on and made me finish this monster. 

don’t forget to check out my jason playlist here. also. please reblog so more people can see the fic :)

#

“I just haven’t had the opportunity to be in love, I guess,” she explained, her psychologist writing stuff she had said down. 

          “Is that so?” the therapist lifted her eyes, her eyebrows shot up in confusion. 

          “Yeah,” she shrugged. 

          “‘Cause the way I see it is you’ve never allowed yourself to fall in love,” the therapist commented. 

          She felt heat coming to her cheeks and tears rise in her eyes. “No, no, that’s not like that,” she whispered, refusing to admit that her psychologist was right. 

          The therapist let out a small sigh. “Have you had crushes when you were a kid?”

          She shook her head. “The boys weren’t that nice and…” she drifted off, thinking of a couple of crushes she might have developed when she was a young teen. “No boys were interested in me.”

          “I find that hard to believe, Y/N,” the therapist said. “Let’s think of it this way: were there any boys who picked on you?”

          She snorted. “Plenty,” she responded. “I wasn’t exactly popular in middle school,” she shrugged. 

          “Yes, yes, I remember,” the psychologist said. 

          “There was one boy that used to run around recess calling me a weird nickname he had for me: peanut.”

          “That’s not weird,” the therapist pondered. 

          “It is when you’re 13 and you love eating packed peanuts in recess,” she countered. 

          “Well, this boy did you like him?” the therapist asked. 

            “Yeah, he was nice,” she omitted that she had a crush on him in ninth grade before she left the school and never saw him again. “He was one of the few boys that talked to me without wanting me to help him with his homework or anything.

            “I remember one day in eight grade he stopped to talk to me before class but I was kinda rude to him and he never really talked to me again,” she shrugged. 

            “Why?” the psychologist quizzed.

            “I thought he wanted something out of me,” she sniffed, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face. “They all wanted something out of me. It was safe to assume, I guess.”

            “You scared the boy away, Y/N,” the therapist said kindly. “I think that boy liked you,” she finished. 

            “No, no, Todd, he--” she shook her head negatively, “he was kinda popular, I was a nobody. He didn’t like me.”

            “He liked you, Y/N.”

#

#

#

That conversation stayed in her head for days. The words of her therapist echoing in her head. You scared the boy away. The truth was: she had scared the boy away. It was heartbreaking to think that she could have had what she wanted, a romance, someone to hold and to be held by. Instead she was alone, an adult who had never even dated anyone for that matter. 

          It wasn’t just that boy from middle school. It was every boy that ever tried getting too close to her. It would be comical if it wasn’t so tragic. A romantic at heart, completely alone. Thank god she had her friends. 

          She hadn’t thought about Jason Todd in years. He hadn’t so much as graced her thoughts since she last saw him in ninth grade. Then she dreamt of him. And things started to change. 

          In her dreams she was his girlfriend. He was loving, he would caress her delicately, look into her eyes lovingly as if he was seeing the whole world in her eyes. He would kiss her tenderly, she could feel his lips when she woke up. 

          He had gotten so big in her dreams, even more handsome than he was when he was 15. Jason was a lanky and tiny kid, but somehow her brain imagined him tall--very tall--and very muscular. His eyes were green, and not the blue she remembered. He looked beautiful and waking up after the dream, she could feel her heart race. 

          After she dreamed about him the first time, she dismissed it. It was her brain making weird connections, it made sense: she had talked about her pseudo-love life and about him that week. But after the second dream she knew there was something wrong. 

          She decided to look him up on the internet. What appeared wasn’t something she liked. 

          News coverage about how he had died mysteriously. ‘Adopted son of Bruce Wayne dies at age 16.’ She couldn’t help but tear up a bit on those headlines. The most recent ones though reported him being wrongfully declared dead and how he was estranged from his family. It even showed a couple of pictures of him and she was surprised to see her dreams were not very far off.

          Other than a couple of tabloid headlines, there was no trace of this guy on the internet. He was almost a ghost story, and  she felt her heart beating faster in anxiety. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity for him. 

          She otherwise forgot about him--other than the occasional thought about what if that would cross her mind. That is, until she literally stumbled into him. 

#

#

#

A part time job to help with the finances, that’s what working in the bookshop was supposed to be. It would help pay tuition and her insurance. Her parents had said that she didn’t need to do it, they could pay and it wouldn’t even make a dent in their bank account. But it wasn’t for them, it was for herself, a sense of achievement. 

          It was supposed to be just that. No meet cutes, no falling in love in a bookshop, just boring old work. Work for half of the afternoon, close up, get her salary and move on with her life. 

          The shop was quiet that day. No one had come in to buy or even browse anything. It didn’t really bother her. She occupied herself with other things: homework, studying, drawing, texting her friends, the list was endless. She was so engrossed in her drawing, she didn’t even hear the bell ringing and the door opening. 

          She heard someone clear their throat and she looked up from her drawing to meet their eyes. She gaped a bit as she met his gaze, intense blue eyes meeting hers. She closed her mouth quickly, trying to cover the fact that she was clearly staring at him. The gods must be really enjoying themselves playing with her life like that. Of course, she thought, of course that he would fucking appear in her life like that: out of nowhere. The one day she had a calm evening and Jason Todd, the guy who was haunting her dreams and thoughts like a ghost, appears. 

          “May I help you?” she asked, professionally, ignoring her racing heart and the anxiety increasing in the pit of her stomach. 

          “Yes,” he replied. “I’m lookin’ for the complete H.P. Lovecraft collection. I stopped by the other day and a guy separated it for me,” he explained. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, and she hoped that he hadn’t recognized her. 

          “Oh,” she said. “Wait a moment, I’ll check if it’s in the back.”

          She walked controlled, to mask the fact that she wanted to run out of that place as fast as she could. 

          She closed the inventory door and leaned her back against it. She breathed heavily, trying to calm herself. It was only a guy, she had talked to plenty of guys before. She calmed herself down, steadying her breathing. 

          She glanced around the shelves looking for his book. The sooner she ended this the better. She could move on with her life without his face haunting her. She found the book (almost like a brick). She got it and took a deep breath before stepping out of the inventory and calmly walking to the front desk. 

          He stood there calmly , his eyes glancing around the shop. He had picked another book to buy, something significantly smaller than Lovecraft's collection.  She itched to see what  it was, before catching herself and stopping her curiosity. She couldn't get attached, even if just a little bit. 

          "Here," she said, resting the book on the counter. She smiled at him kindly, her hand open for the book resting in his hands. He handed it to her, confusion plastered on his face.

          "It's 60 dollars," she stated, calmly and controlled. 

          He handed her the money. She accepted it and packed his books neatly. He clocked her moves as she did so, she felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze. 

          "I'm sorry, do I know you?" He asked. "I feel like I know you."

          She gulped imperceptibly. So he had recognized her. Goddammit. "I don't think so," she replied, hesitant on whether or not he would see right through her lie. 

          He hummed. His eyes then  shifted down to her name tag, and she knew he had put the pieces together. "Did we go to school together?" He insisted. 

          She smiled tightly. "I don't know, probably," she shrugged. "I went to a pretty big school, there were a lot of people there," a lie. Gotham Academy was big, but it was nowhere near as big as she made it sound. It was the kind of school where you knew everyone, even if you had never talked to them. 

          He smiled at her coyly, sensing her awkwardness. Maybe it was just that that made him finally remember her, or maybe not. Either way she did not like that he indeed recognized her fully. "I remember you," he trailed off. "We had English together," he stated. 

          She pretended to search her memory for him. She couldn't give away that just days before she had dreamed about him yet again. How pathetic, dreaming about a boy from middle school. "Oh yeah," she dragged. "Jason, right?"

          "That's me," he whispered. "I thought you had moved."

          She smiled, it was cute that he remembered enough of her to know that she didn't stay in Gotham for a couple of years. "I did move," she explained. "I came back for college."

          "Why?" He asked, confused by her statement. "Gotham is a shit city, you should've stayed elsewhere."

          She tried not to take offense to it. "It has its appeal," she shrugged. "Besides the science program in Gotham U is very good, it was the best move."

          Jason smirked. "Science huh?"

          "Yeah," she breathed out. She slid the package to him, a sign that she maybe was done talking. 

          Thank the gods his phone rang. She couldn't handle anymore of that. She averted  her attention once more to her drawing, his voice talking angrily on the phone only a background noise to her. "I gotta go," he said and her eyes went back to him. "It was good seeing you, Y/N."

          She tried not to notice how her heart picked up the pace at the sound of her name leaving his lips. "You too," she smiled shyly and he left the store, the bell ringing as he closed the door and her mind plagued by the image of him. 

#

#

#

If she thought Jason Todd had plagued her mind and dreams before she had seen him at the bookshop, now he was downright living in her head rent free. She just couldn’t get him out of her mind. The dreams about him, the ones where she would be tenderly loved by him, were getting more frequent and more intense. When she woke up, she would still feel his arms around her and an emptiness would settle in her chest. 

          Why did it have to happen to her? She just wanted to go through life unnoticed, why did the gods have to pull this prank on her?

          She huffed as she closed the shop, the sky already dark enough to be considered dangerous to stay out. It was only a couple of blocks to her car, she could get through the walk unscathed, she had done it before. 

          But then again, it seemed that Fate had it out for her. 

          She could feel someone following her the moment she had left the shop. The looming presence of a threat made her hyper aware of everything, her heart beating out of her chest. She tried to think of ways to lose the guy--she assumed it was a guy, it usually was--but her mind came blank. She thought in passage if her friends would miss her, who would contact them if she were to die. She shook the thought quickly out of her head and hastened her pace. 

          But the guy gained on her, and as soon as she could blink, she felt his arm snake around her neck. She gasped for air desperately, clawing at his arm trying to take it off. It was then that she felt a cold metal press against her back. A gun. She felt the tears coming to her eyes. If the guy were to pull the trigger, the best case scenario was she wouldn’t be able to move her limbs anymore. The worst, well, who would tell her friends she had died in a robbery?

          “Give me your bag,” the guy--now confirmed for his gruff and raspy voice--whispered in her ear.

          “Please, take it,” she begged. “Don’t hurt me.”

          She heard the guy scoff as he pressed the gun further on her back. She whimpered. “We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice laced with malice.

          It was then she heard a loud bang coming from behind her. She thought the guy had pulled the trigger, and she was ready to feel the wetness of her blood sipping through her clothes. Instead, all she felt was a splash on her shoulder and his grip on her loosening considerably. The guy had fallen to the ground behind her, clutching his shoulder and screaming in pain. She turned around to see him and a pool of his own blood forming beneath him. She was paralyzed in fear of the sight.  

          “The police’re on their way,” a distorted voice sounded. She looked up and found a massive man, standing menacingly on top of the thieves body. His red helmet glinted in the moon’s glow. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly. 

          She breathed out. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I--I--,” she teared up again, “I would’ve died. You saved my life.”

          “It’s what I do,” he shrugged. “I’ll walk you.”

          “How about the…” she pointed towards the guy laying on the floor in pain.

          “If he wants to live to see another day, he’ll stay exactly where he is,” he said, his voice serious and threatening. 

          “Shouldn’t I give the police a statement?” she whispered. 

          She swore she heard a chuckle of amusement through the voice disruptor he had in his helmet. “I have a video to prove he was tryin’ to rob you, you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna,” he explained softly. “So, wanna lead the way?”

          She looked down at her feet, nervous to look at him. She nodded and started to walk once again towards her car. He walked behind her respectfully, and she felt the difference between him and the robber. He wasn’t trying to get something out of her, and his large physique felt like there was a literal wall following her to her car. 

          It was a blink till she got to her car. Her hand rested on the door handle and she gave a deep breath, trying desperately to calm herself, trying to remember the breathing exercises her psychologist had taught her. She opened her mouth to say something to the Red Hood, her eyes searching for him next to her. 

          But he was gone. And what was left was just the memory of him in her mind. 

#

#

#

“So how was your week?” her psychologist asked, sitting on her armchair, Y/N sitting cross-legged in front of her. 

          “Crazy,” she rolled her eyes in disbelief, her mouth quirking in a weird shape. “So much stuff happened.”

          “Oh do tell,” the psychologist urged her. 

          She sighed, thinking where to begin. “Well, you remember the boy I told you about?”

          “Yes, Jason wasn’t it?”

          “Yep,” she popped. “He showed up at the store the other day.”

          “You’re kidding.”

          “I wish I was, honestly,” she replied breathily. “I didn’t even realize he had come in.”

          “No way,” her therapist responded in disbelief. She seemed invested in the pranks the fates were pulling on her patient.

          “I was too invested in my drawing, mind you,” she smiled. “It’s been weeks since I’ve done a decent piece of scribble so I was excited.”

          “Yes, yes right,” her therapist acknowledged. “And how about Jason? Did you talk to him?”

          “Briefly,” she responded. “I was hoping he wouldn’t recognize me, but he did.” 

          “What did he say?” she quizzed, making notes on her paper. 

          “He asked if he knew me, which I denied at first,” her psychologist looked at her angrily and she shrugged. “Then he finally placed me and asked what I was doing in Gotham. I answered, said I was in college. He said I should’ve stayed elsewhere ‘cause Gotham apparently sucks.”

          “He isn’t wrong,” her therapist pondered. 

          “He isn’t but I like Gotham,” she shrugged once again. 

          “Did you get his number?” her therapist quizzed her. 

          “Nope,” she denied. “He left pretty quickly.”

          “Why don’t I believe that?” the psychologist smiled. 

          “It’s true!” she laughed. “He answered a phone call, got angry at something I didn’t really understand and left pretty quickly.”

          The therapist hummed. “You think you’ll see him again?”

          “I don’t know,” she sniffed. “He got pretty big books when he appeared, I think it’ll be a while before he needs another.”

          “You never know,” she conceded. “What if he does? Do you imagine what you would do?”

          “I mean,” she trailed off, “what I want to do is talk to him and maybe ask for his number,” she finished coyly. “What I will do is be very weird and awkward and scare him off.”

          “Y/N,” the therapist warned. “We’ve talked about this.”

          “I know, I know,” she waved off. “I won’t do it. I’ll try to be friendly.”

            “Good. What else happened this week?”

          “Almost died,” she swallowed, nervously, “quite literally, I’m afraid.”

          “What?”

          “Was leaving the store, it was pretty early in the night, I think. And a guy got me by the neck and pressed his gun to my spine,” she recounted quietly. “I thought I would die.”

          “But you didn’t,” her therapist comforted her. “What happened after?”

          “The Red Hood showed up,” she sniffed. “Shot the guy in the shoulder and then knocked him out.”

          “When did that happen?” her therapist’s voice was filled with worry.

          “2 days ago,” she replied quietly. 

          “I’m so sorry this happened to you,” the psychologist cooed. “Are you alright?”

          “I’m okay,” she nodded, her eyes filled with tears that did not dare to spill. “The Red Hood was very gentle, he walked me to my car and made sure I was safe.”

          “Uhum,” the therapist hummed, jotting down something. She always wondered what her therapist wrote down about her, but maybe it was for the best that she didn’t know what was written down. 

          “I did some research on him afterwards,” she diverted the subject out of her. “Turns out he’s very famous for protecting street kids.”

          “Is that so?” 

          “Yeah,” she nodded enthusiastically. “There’s a couple of stories going around social media of people who witnessed him, you know…” she trailed off. “He seems to look out for people in poorer neighborhoods. Like Crime Alley. He seems very active there,” she added.

          “I didn’t know that,” the psychologist said. 

          “Yeah, you’d get mistaken by the bat symbol on his chest, but there’s very few reports of him getting involved in Batman-esque adventures.”

          Her therapist laughed. “And what might those be?”

          “You know,” she shrugged. “Aliens, psycho-clowns, riddles, those kinds of stuff. Although there are a couple of people that said he did have a crazy huge fight with Black Mask once, there doesn’t seem to be any other. If there is, he sure made a good job hiding it.”

          “You seem very excited about this Red Hood,” the therapist noted. 

          “He was nice,” she shrugged once more. “And I’m thankful he does what he does. I wouldn’t be here if he didn’t,” she added quietly. “Literally.”

          “Well, then we got to make sure you live your best life after this second chance you got granted.”

#

#

#

As soon as the words ‘what if you see him again’ left her therapist’s mouth, she knew she would see Jason Todd again. Because the Universe was out for her like that. It was only a matter of when. 

          Turns out ‘when’ was a week later after the first time she saw him. She concluded he was either a hoarder or a very fast reader. She hoped it would be the latter. 

          This time, she was paying attention. She was organizing the shelves calmly, and as odd as it seemed, that was the best part of her job. It eased her anxiety to know everything was where it was supposed to be.

          She jumped at the sound of the bell, her heart beating faster and her mind racing at the worst case scenarios. But it was just him. And she was entirely relieved that it was just Jason. She settled the book that was about to go on the shelf--‘there you go Little Women, back to where you belong’--and got out from behind her hiding spot. “Hey, Jason,” she said and his eyes found hers. 

          He opened a smile that knocked the air out of her. “Oh hey,” he breathed out. 

        She swallowed her nerves down. She would make her therapist proud, goddammit. “How can I help you?” she asked, opening a smile she hoped it was charming. 

        “I finished the books I bought the other day,” he said, his face a tad bit nervous. Did she make him nervous? “Do you have any recommendations?” he finished, his hands shoved in his pockets, shifting his weight slightly. 

        “It depends what you’re looking for,” she trailed off, returning to behind the shelves. Her fingers trailed lightly over the spine of the books she had just organized. She heard him walk behind her accompanying her to wherever she intended to go. “What are you looking for?” she turned around to see him, and saw him gulp nervously. 

        “Romance,” he blurted out. “How about a romance?”

        “Ummm,” she hummed, her eyes once more trailing over the spines of the books. “A love story or a real romantic type of book? You know with loads of self pity and drama. Or maybe just a very long and nice novel?”

        He laughed airly. “Surprise me,” he teased, and it seemed all his nerves were gone. 

        She smirked. “Okay then.” She pulled a book off the shelf. It wasn’t a big book, it couldn’t be longer than 300 pages. She gave it to him. “Epitaph of a Small Winner,” she said. “A romance, a realist one but nevertheless a romance.”

        He grabbed the book, looking tiny in his big hands. His fingers tracing the title delicately. “What is it about?”

        “A dead person narrating their life and reflecting upon it,” she shrugged. “A very interesting read indeed, but you’d have to do a bit of research. It’s set in 1880s Brazil.”

        “I’m okay with that,” he smiled looking at her. “Any more recs?”

        “Not for now,” she smirked. “How else am I going to have you come back if I give all my recommendations at once?”

        His smile faltered for a split second before taking permanent residence on his face. “Who’s to say I wouldn’t come back even if you did give me all your recommendations?”

        She was left speechless. She felt heat coming up to her cheeks and he looked somewhat proud he left her flustered like that. “Well then, do make sure you come back after you’ve finished.”

        “I will, Y/N.”

#

#

#

Jason didn’t know why he went back to the bookshop. He truly didn’t. 

        He wasn’t expecting to see her working there. He wasn’t expecting to see her at all, actually. He barely even remembered her from his middle school days. He vaguely remembered finding her pretty and he knew she was very smart. Other than that, she was basically a stranger to him. Just like that version of himself was a stranger to him now. 

        It was a surprise to say the least. She had grown up marvelously, from what he remembered at least. She wore glasses now, and in his opinion it only made her prettier. His breath caught in his throat just remembering the sight of her that first time. His brothers caught up in his behavioral shift, and teased him endlessly. Jason stopped that rather quickly: it’s easy when you’re bigger and more intimidating than them. It also helps that they’re desperately trying to maintain the thin and fragile relationship they had. 

        Jason wanted to say he hadn’t rushed to finish those books to see her again, but he did. He wanted to say he hadn’t rushed to read her recommendation, but he did. He finished it in a day. He wished he had read it sooner. Somehow he felt like that sometimes, a dead man narrating his own story. At least he was strikingly different from the protagonist. At least he wasn’t an asshole. Not most times anyways. 

        He went back to the shop the next day, around closing time--he realized they were closing early and he wondered if it had anything to do with the incident Y/N was involved in. He was sure she would be there. Something told him that she would. He got in, as quietly as he could. The store was empty, after all it was a Thursday afternoon. The door made the usual bell sound behind him, and Y/N appeared behind the shelves, her face stony. 

        “I finished it,” he said with a smile.

        She smiled back at him, and his heart did a somersault. “That was fast, it is not an easy read.”

        “Well, it was a very good book,” he pointed. “It’s easier when the book’s good.”

        “What did you think of it?” she asked curiously.

        “It’s very complex,” he began. “You want to believe Brás but he’s just so….”

        “Insufferable?”

        “Exactly. And he’s a hypocrite too. Which just drives me fucking nuts,” he ran his hands through his hair. “The parallels you can make to the present, though, are just… very daunting,” he added. “It’s impressive the guy wrote this stuff in the nineteenth century and...” he trailed off.

        “Society hasn’t changed one bit since then,” she completed him, her eyes glinting. She was smiling pleasantly, and Jason found it confusing, after all they were talking about something entirely serious.  “So, you here for another rec?” She changed the subject.

        “If you have one, I’d like that,” he said sheepishly. 

        She smirked. “Let’s see,” she moved to behind the shelves once again, her eyes trailing the books expertely. “How about a nice little love story, huh?”

        He shrugged, his heart beating harder in his chest. “Sure, why not.”

        She smiled at him and took out a yellowish cover with a dagger drawn across it. The title was written in the middle of the cover in nice flowery letters. “It’s about a girl that has a special power. And she kinda is trained to be an assassin of sorts, and she is set to a quest with a prince that has the same gift as her. Kinda. But you get the gist.”

        “Yeah, I do,” he nodded, his fingers trailing slightly over the title. 

        “It’s an YA novel so be kind to it,” she warned. 

        “I’ll be.”

        They both made their way to the cash register. She was behind the counter when Jason’s phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and answered it without even looking at the caller. “Hello?” he said, trapping his phone between his shoulder and ear, to fish the money for the book out of his pocket.

        “Is this Mr. Todd?” the person--a woman--said.

           “Yes. Who’s speaking?” he asked. Jason could feel anxiety rising in his body and mind and he tried to push it down. Who the fuck was this person and, most importantly, how the fuck did she get his number?

            “I’m Principal Genoise-Beckham, from Gotham Academy,” she explained. What kind of name was Genoise-Beckham? “I’m calling because of your brother Damian. He got into a fight during the end of the school hours and you’re the next on his contacts list.”

            Jason sighed, a twinge of anger sounding through it. “So no one’s available?”

            “I’m afraid not, Mr.Todd.”

            Not even Alfred, and he knew that for a fact because Jason was the last on the contacts list. Bruce wouldn’t put him any higher, because Bruce doesn’t quite trust him. Not anymore. “I won’t have to sit through any meetings right?”

            “No, Mr. Wayne already arranged one,” the principal said, tiredly. 

            “Tell the kid I’ll be there in 20 minutes,” and then he hung up. 

            She looked at him quizzically, his book neatly packaged in parcel paper with a nice little bow on top of it. “Is everything okay?” she asked, concerned. 

            “My brother got into a fight at the Academy and now I have to pick him up,” he said grumpily. 

            “Oh,” her face fell, and Jason felt guilty. “I hope your brother’s okay.”

            “The little shit probably is,” he gritted through his teeth. He saw a twinge of sadness go through her expression. “Listen,” he started, “I really wanted to stay, but if I don’t pick him up, it’ll start a whole thing with my family and I…” he didn’t complete but he was sure she understood. 

            “It’s okay, Jay,” it was the first time she had called him by a nickname, and his heart beated faster at the sound. “I was about to close up anyways.”

            “Oh,” he breathed. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

            “Yeah,” she nodded, her eyes a bit glossy. 

            He turned around, his book on his hands, when he heard a small ‘Wait’. Jason turned back to her, she was looking at her feet, maybe embarrassed that she had called him, maybe she just didn’t want him to go. He didn’t want to go either. “Can you give me a ride?” she asked. “I mean, I live pretty close to Gotham Academy, it wouldn’t be too much of a detour.”

            His heart picked up the pace, and he fought a smile. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

          She smiled at him. “Great,” she replied. “I just need to pick up my things and we can go.”

          She was very quick. She turned the lights off of the entire store and returned to the front desk with a small backpack and a few notebooks in hand. She smiled at him. “Lead the way.” 

           Like the gentleman he was raised to be, he took the notebooks from her hands and led the way, Y/N only a few steps behind him. She fished out a key out of her pocket and locked the front door. She tied a chain around the doorknob in a very specific way that almost seemed like a sailor’s knot. She put a locket in the end of the chain, and dragged a metal door down, then locking it to the ground. It seemed excessive, but it was Gotham, and Jason knew first hand what the city was like. 

           They walked a few doors down. Jason’s car glistened in the fading sunlight. He was fucking proud of that car. He had fixed everything in it, he knew that machine inside out. He made it what it was, a beautiful and powerful car. It was one of the few things he had done he felt proud of it. 

          He unlocked the doors with the alarm--yes, a 1962 black Corvette with electronic alarm, he had done that--and he heard a gasp beside him. He turned to see Y/N and her eyes glistened with amazement. “What?” he asked, confused. 

           “You have a ‘62 Corvette?” she asked, shocked. 

           “Yeah,” he dragged, still confused. 

           “I fucking love this car,” she said completely ignoring him and getting closer to the car, analyzing it carefully. “It’s so beautiful.”

           “It really is,” he got around it, looking at the street to see if there were any cars coming down. He then opened the door of his car and got in. “Get in,” he smiled at her. 

           She opened a beaming smile. She opened the door and sat on the passenger seat, her bag resting on her feet, her notebooks now on her lap, she noticed the roof of the car on--the better option for the approaching winter--the head rest he had added, the bright red color of the leather seats, and the original panel, even though she knew he most likely altered everything behind it. She looked like a little kid in it, and Jason could get used to the sight of her beside him. 

           He started the car and she squealed excitedly at the sound of the motor. He looked at her, a small smile on her face. “Is it the original motor?” she asked. “It doesn’t sound like it, it sounds electrical.”

           “That’s ‘cause it is electrical,” he responded. “The original one was very poluent so I switched it.”

           “That’s so cool,” she said, closing her eyes. Jason hinted she was trying to hear the sounds of the car, like someone you’d listen to music. “This is so cool,” she breathed out. 

           He hummed in amusement. “Never met someone who was as passionate about this car as me,” he noted. 

           “You didn’t meet people with good taste then,” she joked. “I’ve loved this car since I was a teen. Always wanted one, but I never had it in me to buy it.”

           “I found this one in a junkyard basically,” he said. “It was in pretty good condition considering where it was. Spent a year tryin’ to fix it to the original conditions, gave up and then another year buildin’ it to what it is today.”

           She looked at him, he noticed out of the corner of the eye, incredulously. “You’re so fucking cool, Jason,” she said. “You’re beyond cool, you’re just…” she trailed off. He looked at her quickly and she had a shy smile and she was looking at her hands. 

           “Thank you,” he thanked her. “People haven’t found me cool in,” he let out a breath, “forever.”

           “Well, you haven’t been walking with very nice people then,” she said. “No offense to your friends, but you’re just… you’re special, Jay.”

           And, fuck, did he love hearing that from her. She left him speechless. She turned to him and saw his stony expression--an expression of panic and chock, not of disgust as she thought--and she inhaled sharply. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” she said, desperately trying to correct her mistake. “I said too much. Forget I said anything, please,” she completed, smally. 

           “It’s okay, love,” he replied softly, the car stopping slowly at the intersection. He turned to her. He grabbed her hands, that were twisting nervously in her lap--a nervous tick he remembered noticing she had in school--and looked at her softly. “You’re fucking special too, Y/N.”

           She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears. “I--” she hesitated. She smiled at him, sniffing and wiping her eyes with one of her hands, the other still intertwined in Jason’s. “Thank you,” she said. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

           He smiled at her. “I’m just saying the truth, love.”

           That made her even more flustered. “You’re just being kind,” she said, shyly, looking at her hands entangled with his. She removed her hands of his, the traffic light turned green and Jason resumed driving the car. 

           “No, I’m not,” he denied her. “I’m telling you the truth. You’re special, and you’re amazing, Y/N.”

           She shook her head in denial, her bottom lip trapped by her teeth. “I’m not all that great,” she whispered. “I’m pretty annoying in fact. You just haven’t seen it yet.”

           “I don’t believe you. Why’d you think that?”

          She shrugged. “When you spend your whole childhood and teenagedom hearing that you’re nothing but an annoying crybaby nerd, you start to believe it at some point.”

Jason swallowed tickly at her remark. He couldn’t believe what she had just said. “Who said that to you?”

        She shook her head. “You don’t have to worry,” she replied, dismissing his concern. “It’s over now.”

           “But it still hurts you,” he noted. He noticed how this could easily apply to him. How he easily would get worked up on the little things Bruce would mention and Jason would brush it, say it’s over, it doesn’t matter, when it clearly does. It fucking does. 

           She looked at her hands, and sniffed. “It’ll always hurt, I guess.”

           Jason was rarely speechless. But, at that moment, he didn’t know what to say. Because he remembered hearing those things about her. He remembered people talking about her in that way, saying she was weird, and that they only talked to her when they needed help with homework. Admittedly, he never ever said those things about her--he didn’t even believe those things--but he never said a word to those who called her that. And that, arguably, was worse than saying those things. 

           He struggled to conciliate that guilt with the fact that he didn’t even feel like that boy--he wasn’t that boy anymore. That boy died by the hands of a clown. What had emerged from it was something entirely different. And yet, he still felt guilt over something he hadn’t done when he was that kid. 

           “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

           “You don’t have to be sorry, Jay,” she said, her hands finding his, on the gear shift. “You didn’t do anything.”

           “But I--” he started, “I didn’t say anything about it. I knew about those things and I didn’t stop them.”

           She looked at him, and he saw by the corner of his eye. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m sure you were going through other stuff and you just wanted to fit in.”

           How was she so fucking understanding? He scoffed lightly. The thing is: he wasn’t trying to fit in, he was trying to stay out of sight. So he just listened and said nothing. “How are you so good?” He said, incredulously. He was the first person to say Gotham was rotten, head to toe, and yet there she was, fucking pure soul. 

           “I guess I just am,” she shrugged. 

           And then they fell in a comfortable silence. Her hand was still in his, and he fought the urge to bring her knuckles to his lips and plant a kiss on it. Every now and then he would steal glances at her, and he swore she was glowing in the orange sunlight peaking in the window. 

           “That’s me,” she said, pointing to a tall modern building a block before Gotham Academy. 

           “That’s a big fancy building,” he noted slowly. 

           “It’s one of my parents’ apartments,” she explained. “I live in it rent free, but I have to pay for electricity and food and stuff. It was the condition for using it. They insisted they’d pay the tuition and I demanded this apartment in return, ‘cause I wanted to pay the tuition and they wanted to--” she trailed off noticing a weird look in his eyes. “I’m sorry I ranted.”

           “It’s fine, I like to hear you talk,” he said, smiling. 

         She smiled back, looking at her feet. “Well, I should get going,” she said opening the car door. “Thanks for the ride, Jason.”

           “No problem, love,” he shook his head slightly, and looked at her softly. 

          “Yeah,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on his, already out of the car. “Bye,” she finished awkwardly and quickly walked to the building. 

           Jason watched as she floated to her home, mesmerized by her. 

           Fuck. 

#

#

#

“Red Hood has been following me,” she manifested her psychologist looking at her with wide eyes. “It’s weird to say it out loud.”

        “Why do you say that?” her psychologist asked. 

        “‘Cause I’ve seen him,” she replied. “A couple of times actually.”

        “Are you sure?” the therapist asked. 

        “Yes, I am,” she nodded enthusiastically. “I just don’t get why he’s following me.”

        “Isn’t he supposed to be a good guy?” her therapist quizzed. “Following people doesn’t seem like a good guy thing to do.”

        “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m not scared though. I know I should be, but I’m not,” she commented. “I know I haven’t done anything wrong, there's no reason for him to be following me, at least no reason like that. I don’t know,” she sighed, “maybe he just wants to be my guardian angel,” she shrugged. 

        “It sure is a weird angel,” the therapist noted. “Have you talked about this with Jason?”

        “I did mention it to him,” she nodded. “But he got all weird about it and changed the subject quickly.”

        “That’s strange.”

        “Yeah, he definitely knows something about this,” she said smugly. “I really want to find out.”

        “Well, on the topic of Jason,” her therapist said as if she hadn’t brought him up, “how’s things with him?”

        “They’re okay,” she shrugged. “He comes to see me at work almost every day. Then he walks me to my car or gives me a ride home.”

        “I see,” the psychologist noted. “And what do you guys talk about?”

        “I don’t know,” she mumbled under her breath. “Mostly about books. Sometimes about life,” she recounted. “He’s very reserved. He doesn’t talk much about himself.”

        “And you? Do you talk about yourself?” 

        She hesitated. There was no point in lying to her therapist, it would go against the very definition of therapy and if there was one thing she hated was hypocrisy. “No,” she shook her head quietly, “I-- everytime I try, something happens and…” she shrugged. “I guess I’m too scared of scaring him off.”

        “Y/N…” the therapist warned. “You need to open up to him. How do you expect him to stick around if you don’t share things about you?”

        “To be fair,” she said raising her finger as if it would make the point she was about to make more believable, “I’ve talked about myself once with him and it was… fuck, it was hard.”

        “How did he react?” the therapist inquired. “Was he a dick?”

        “No!” she was quick to reply. “He was the sweetest. But I’m just…”

        “Depriving yourself of a potential relationship,” her therapist completed for her. “You’re sabotaging yourself, Y/N.”

        “No, I’m not,” she denied, fooling herself. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up and end up heartbroken.”

        The psychologist sighed. “I know you’re scared of getting hurt, but you’ll never know unless you let him in,” the therapist stated. “You might be pushing him away and sabotaging yourself when investing in this relationship could very well be something right for you,” she finished.

        “I know,” she mumbled. “But I just,” she sighed, defeated. “I’m scared.”

        “I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to try,” her therapist added softly. 

        “Okay,” she nodded, softly. 

#

#

#

She waited at the edge of her seat for Jason to come in at the store. She was going to try. Fuck, she hoped she didn’t mess anything up. Up until that moment she didn’t know what she was doing, she just did it. She hoped she knew what she was about to do. 

        The bell rang and Jason walked in, his hair swept by the chilly wind and his hands stuffed in his jeans’ pockets. He wore that leather jacket she loved so much, it made him so much more beautiful. She just wanted to grab him by his shirt and kiss him to no end. She smiled at him and he smiled back. 

        “I was waiting for you,” she announced happily. 

        “Yeah?” he said, leaning on his elbows. His face was inches away from hers. His pupils were blown wide, his blue eyes twinkling with something she couldn’t quite place yet. “Excited for the next rec, huh?” he smirked. 

        “No, actually,” she corrected him. “I needed to tell you something.”

        “Oh,” he said. “Go ahead then, I’m all yours.”

        “Okay,” she whispered, her heart racing at his comment. She swallowed nervously, looking him in the eye. This was it. She was going to open up to him. “I was talking to my therapist actually,” she started, “and we agreed--actually no,” she laughed. “She said that I need to open up and be vulnerable more. And it may seem a bit weird that I’m saying this to you but I swear there’s a reason.  So here it goes,” she breathed out. “I really like you, Jay. Like, really really like you. And I’m sorry if I’ve seemed weird or standoffish or anything, I’m trying to work on that. So if you want to, I don’t know, take this, um, friendship somewhere else, maybe somewhere romantic, I’d be, you know, happy to take it there too. With you, I mean.”

        He smiled genuinely at her. His eyes shifted to  her hands. She was twisting her fingers nervously. He rested his hand on hers, her hand immediately relaxing under his touch. “I’d like that,” he responded quietly. “Wanna go on a date tonight?”

        She smiled, her eyes a bit teary. Her heart raced in her chest, the worst case scenario hadn’t come true. He liked her too. He wanted to date too. Her anxiety was wrong. Thank God for that. “Yeah, I do,” she confessed. 

        His smile got bigger somehow.  “Great,” he breathed out, and she could feel the nerves leaving his body. “I’ll pick you up at 8,” he stated. 

        She smiled at him. “Great.”

#

#

#

“I need you to cover patrol for me,” Jason said to Tim, his phone pressed between his shoulder and ear. He carried a bouquet of flowers, bags from the market and a suit he had it pressed and sent to the Iceberg Lounge.

        “Why?” Tim quizzed him. 

        “‘Cause I have a thing,” Jay responded. 

        “Yeah, Imma need more than that, Jay,” Tim said. “What thing?”

        “You’re a little fucker”, he answered, resting the bags on the floor. “You just want gossip.”

        “No, I want a reason why I’ll have to add the Narrows to my patrol tonight,” Tim argued. “It’s quite far from my usual route, y’know.”

        “Fuck you, Tim,” Jason muttered. 

        “Why such hostility?” Tim teased. Jason could practically hear his brother’s smirk over the phone. “Is someone going on a date tonight?”

        Jason exhaled deeply, trying not to lose his temper and drive to Wayne Towers to choke his brother to death. He was on a schedule, he had dinner to prepare. “Will you cover for me or not?”

        “Will you tell me why you're ditching patrol?”

        “No,” Jason gritted through his teeth. 

        “Then no,” Tim said plainly. Jason knew he was messing with him. 

        Jason sighed. There was no way he’d cancel on Y/N. Not because his motherfucking brother was toying with him. “I swear to God, Drake, if you tell anyone I'll kill you the most painful way possible.”

        “So you are going on a date,” Tim stated. 

        “Fuck,” Jason sighed. “Yes, I am. Now, please Timothy, would you cover patrol for me tonight?”

        “Who’s the girl?”

        “Tim,” Jason started.

        “Or boy, I don’t judge.”

        “Will you cover the motherfucking patrol?”

        “Yeah, yeah,” Tim dismissed. 

        “Thank you,” Jason sighed relieved. 

        “Will you introduce me to t--”

        Jason hung up on his brother. He had a date to get ready to. 

#

#

#

Jason spent the rest of his afternoon getting everything ready for the date. The food, the flowers, the ambiance of the roof. Everything was perfect, just like she fucking deserved. 

           He was nervous out of his mind. His hands were sweating and he couldn’t stop running his hands through his hair in a nervous habit. It was so long ago the last time he had gone on a date with someone he cared this much about. He didn’t want to screw it up. 

         She was so precious, so good. He didn’t know what someone like her saw in someone like him, someone tainted and broken. But she saw something, and she wanted him. And he wasn’t dumb, he wasn’t going to let her go. Even if everything in his life told him to run from her, protect her from a distance, don’t get close ‘cause she’ll become a target. 

         And he was doing just that, he was protecting from a distance as the Hood. He was being fucking dumb about it too, cause she had seen him more than once. But being distant was not enough, not anymore. 

          So there he was, in front of her apartment, black ‘62 Corvette, crisp black suit and blood red t-shirt. His hair was messy and his hands were in his pockets. He leaned on the hood of the car, waiting patiently for her to come to his encounter. He was early anyways, he could wait, even if he hated the looks of pity he was receiving. She would come and those fucking pedestrians knew nothing. 

           She opened the doors and stepped on the sidewalk. She was wearing a beautiful red knee-length dress with black heels and Jason was just paralyzed at her sight. Fucking hell. How can someone be so perfect? How can someone so perfect want him?

          She stopped in front of him, a smile framing her face beautifully, her glasses crystal clean. “You look great, Jay,” she stated. 

          “I--” he opened his mouth but no words came out of his mouth. Her face fell and her eyes flashed with worry. 

          “What’s wrong?” she said. “Is everything okay?”

          He breathed out and smiled at her. “Everything’s perfect, love,” he said. He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles gently. “You look breathtakin’.”

          She looked down shyly. “Thank you, Jay.”

          He opened the door of the car for her. She thanked him kindly, and he closed the door for her. He entered the car and started the engine. “Where’re we going?” she quizzed him.

          He looked at her with a smirk. “It’s a surprise,” he stated. “It’s part of the charm.”

          She smiled at him. “You don’t need to surprise me to charm me, Jason.”

          “Cute you think that, but you’ll see,” he responded. “This is going to be a perfect night.”

          She looked at him and sighed quietly, like she was considering something. “It’s already perfect. I’m here with you,” she said coyly. 

          Jason looked at her quickly, her gaze fixed on him. He smiled shyly. One of his hands left the wheel and found hers, holding it tightly. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed it softly. He wanted to say three little words, and he almost did. But she was too precious and he couldn’t just waste those words in a moment like this, an immature moment at that. No, he would cherish her like she was supposed too. He would love her in secret for now, and when he was sure she reciprocated his feelings he would say it with all his heart, he would shout it from the highest rooftop. 

          But, for now, he just looked at her, hoping his look was enough to say what he couldn’t. She smiled like she understood what he was trying to say. 

          Yeah, she was perfect. He wasn’t going to let her slip through his fingers. Fuck the voices in his head saying to run. For once in his life he was going to welcome this feeling with open arms. 

#

#

#

“So, how was your week?” her therapist quizzed. 

        “It was great, actually,” she said. “Jay took me to the museum in Metropolis. I did well in a test and I got my salary early so I bought a new pin for my collection.”

        “You’re sure spending a lot of time with Jason,” the psychologist noted. 

        “Yeah, yeah,” she sighed softly. “I really like him, you know.”

        “I do know,” the therapist replied. “How does it feel to be in a relationship?”

        She looked down at her hands, flustered. “It feels nice and weird and...and…” she trailed off. “I have no words to describe it.”

        Her therapist smiled at her. “He seems like a nice guy, Y/N,” she commented. “How do your friends like him?”

        She twisted her hands nervously. “Henry was suspicious of him at first,” she started. “You know, Jay’s a bit shy and intimidating, Henry was concerned he’d hurt me.”

        “And how did you react to his concern?”

        “I mean,” she shrugged, “it’s a valid concern. But Jay wouldn’t…” she hesitated. “We’ve talked about this, y’know? He knows where I stand, he knows where my fears come from and he gave me his word,” she sniffed, her voice strained. “He promised. And so far he didn’t break any of his promises.”

        “You do trust him a lot,” the therapist noticed. 

        “I trust him with my life,” she added. “I hope he doesn’t break that trust.”

        She hummed and wrote something down. “What about your other friends?” her therapist questioned. “I know Henry means the world to you, but he’s not your only friend.”

        “Julie thought he was okay and the other boys were just very neutral about it,” she explained. “You know how they’re like. As long as I’m happy they’ll be supportive.”

        “Are you happy?” the psychologist inquired. 

        “Yeah,” she replied enthusiastically. “Fuck yeah. Jay’s just… He’s the best, you know. He gets me. He’s respectful and he’s smart and handsome. I really like him.”

        Her therapist smiled. “I’m glad you’re happy, Y/N,” she said. “It’s been a long time coming.”

        “It sure has,” she chuckled quietly. 

        “How about the Red Hood?” the therapist asked. “Have you seen him lately?”

        “All the time,” she replied. “Ever since I started dating Jay, I’ve seen the Hood when I wasn’t with him.”

        “Doesn’t that concern you?”

        “No,” she shook her head. “It’s weird but it doesn’t.”

        “Why’s that?”

        “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “He seems familiar, you know? Not because I’ve seen him up close or seen him more times than I can count but…” she pondered. “His posture and his stance, it’s so so familiar to me. I wonder if I’ve met him as a civilian.”

        “You could have,” her therapist pondered. “How does Jason think of this?”

        “He doesn’t,” she answered. “He always changes the subject very quickly every time I bring it up.”

        “That’s weird.”

        “Yep,” she agreed. “I know he’s up to something. I just haven’t had the courage to ask him. Yet.”

#

#

#

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

        Jason messed up.  He messed up bad. 

        He could live with the fact she had seen him a couple of times lurking in rooftops making sure she was safe. He could live with the fact she was onto him, that she knew he was hiding something from her, something related to the Hood. Jason knew eventually he would have to tell her, this double life would become unsustainable, and he’d have to merge it into one. As much as he dreaded that day, he would fucking do it. 

        But when she sat him down in her living room and said that she knew he was the Hood, he knew, he was fucking sure, he should have been more careful. 

        “I’m not mad, y’know,” she said quietly. “I get why you hid from me.”

        Jason remained quiet, trying to make sense of his thoughts. “How did you find out?”

        A smile passed on her face. “You were just so familiar, I guess,” she explained. “You felt so familiar even from afar. So I just started connecting the dots.”

        “I see,” he whispered. His heart beated faster and faster with anxiety. He couldn’t handle it, he thought he would have more time to tell her. He hadn’t realized she could very well discover on her own, he had given her enough clues to do just so. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

        “It’s fine, Jason,” she replied quietly. “You don’t need to feel sorry.”

        “I feel like I should,” he said. He sighed and grabbed her hands softly. “I owe you an explanation, Y/N.”

        “You don’t owe me anything besides your safety,” she cut him. “I don’t care about what you do at night, Jason. I care about you, I--” she looked at him, trying to search for something in his eyes. “I love you, Jay. And I don’t think I could bear to lose you.”

        Jason opened his mouth in shock. He wasn’t expecting that. “I love you,” he replied to her. “I’ve fucking loved you ever since I laid eyes on you, Y/N,” he grabbed her face and rested his forehead on hers. “I was just so scared to let you in on the secret. ‘Cause I know of the dangers, I know first hand how fucking dangerous this life is, and loosing you would kill me,” he explained. “For the second time,” he whispered. 

        Her hands rested on his cheeks, her thumb caressing him gently. She kissed him, softly, and he reciprocated it. 

        “I want to tell you,” Jason whispered, against her lips. “I have to tell you, how I became what I became.”

        “You don’t n--” she began. 

        “I do, though,” he interrupted her. “I do,” he whispered. He sighed, and looked down. He held her wrists carefully. “If you don’t want to see me after everything I tell you, I’ll understand. I won’t blame you.”

        “Imma stop you right there,” she looked him in the eyes. “You think I don’t know anything, but I know a couple of things, Jay. I did my research on the Hood,” she commented. “You don’t scare me.”

        “There are things that I’ve done that…” he shook his head. 

        “It’s okay, Jay,” she said softly. “One step at a time, love.”

        So he took one step at a time. He told her everything carefully. Some details were left behind, he couldn’t say them out loud, not even if he wanted to. She held his hands through it all, and he was truly grateful for it. 

        “I had no idea,” she whispered. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

        “You don’t have to be,” he shook his head and squeezed her hands. “It led me to you.”

author’s note: here is the link to my jason playlist once again and the link to my masterlist.

[bloodpacks-archive]

How about 3 with Jumin if it's not too much?❤

hey!! thank you for sending in the request, it’s never too much!! I will say, this one gets a little horny, but if you want one that’s sweeter or doesn’t have anything suggestive in it please send in another request and I’ll so happily fulfill it!! I’m in love with this man and I’ll so gladly write anything, this is just what came to mind :)

daybreak | jumin han

warnings: like i said above, sheeeesh (horny), which is now my official tag for not smut but like. getting there. it’s mainly just suggestive, and jumin kinda does some stuff but nothing we aren’t familiar with here on this dear blog. maybe like. a lil angsty. for a moment

word count: 1.9k. i am so sorry.

She wakes before the sun has risen, before the place where Jumin lays becomes nothing more than warm sheets and a dip in the mattress. Sunlight doesn’t spill in through their blinds, but instead the softer color of dawn, a deep blue settling somewhere in the sky.

For once, Jumin still lays next to her. He sleeps on his stomach, one arm wrapped around the pillow beneath him while the other is loosely slung over her. She moves closer to him, curling into the soft warmth of his body. It’s so rare that she gets even a glimpse of this these days, so rare that she doesn’t just feel his lips press against the crown of her head before he leaves.

It’s been hard at the office these last few weeks, to say the least. He doesn’t return home until late into the night—the other night when she waited for him, she heard him drop his keys just outside their front door, heard the soft curse fall from his lips. So she had opened the door for him, and saw him standing there, keys in hand, eyes already half-shut from the ride home at 2AM.

He hasn’t overworked himself like this in a while, hasn’t forced himself to the brink of complete exhaustion in so long that it had begun to feel foreign to her, but now she notices the way he sinks into their bed as if he’s never slept before. She hears the breaths that escape him, so steady and calm. As she moves closer to him, his arm wraps tighter around her, his hand settling in the middle of her back.

She doesn’t dare disturb him, doesn’t dare to move or make a sound. She allows him to bury himself into her, to hold her as close as he wishes. She’s missed this, anyway.

It’s been lonely. She’s been busy, too, but it’s never the same. She’s had meetings and she’s been working closely with the RFA, but whenever she comes home, it’s only to Elizabeth the 3rd’s quiet meows, the soft pat of her paws against their floors. She tries to stay up for Jumin most nights, she really does, but only last night he hadn’t returned back home until nearly 4 in the morning, and by then she’d fallen asleep in their living room. She only woke when Jumin had begun to carry her back to their bed, to which he’d apologized profusely.

Yet now, he’s so peaceful, so unaware of the world that lies around him. His brows aren’t furrowed together, the wrinkles that his stern expression forms in his skin have smoothed out. And he’s warm, most of all.

He only ever warms when he sleeps—most of the time, his hands are bitten by a chill just as hers are. Sometimes, when he returns home he’ll bring his hands under her clothes, placing cold fingers against the warm skin of her torso. Part of it is to rid himself of his chills, but the other part is to see the shock on her face, she knows, to hear her gasp his name. It’s always followed by his laughter into the crook of her neck.

But now his hand is warm against her exposed back, and she finds herself burying her face further into his skin. She wishes for him to stay like this, not forever—she’d never ask that of him—but if only for a few more hours. She wishes for him to sleep past the sunrise, to pull her close and lay in bed, even if only for the morning.

But he won’t. He’ll wake as the beginnings of sunshine peek through their windows. He’ll stir at even the suggestion of daybreak, leaving her to feel cold in his abandoned sheets. So she doesn’t dare waste a moment, she gazes upon his resting face, memorizing the way he looks when he isn’t burdened with work. She’ll know this look, she’ll have it dedicated to memory until she could draw its picture only with charcoal and paper.

She wants so much more from him, but it’s hardly fair for her to ask him such. She can beg for him to rest longer, but he’ll only think about the people at the office who have to pick up his slack. He won’t ever rest, he won’t be able to not think about C&R when he has the livelihoods of so many people on his shoulders.

He used to be able to rest easier about that. Part of her wonders if being cold was a gift for him, if maybe he needed it to stay sane. But God, was he ever really sane back then?

Hesitantly, she raises a hand up to his face. She pushes a piece of hair that’s fallen into his eyes out of the way, brushing it back until it falls with the rest of his hair. He stirs at her touch, and she halts her movement, one of her fingers stuck trailing behind his ear.

He lets out a quiet groan and turns so his face is stuffed into his pillow. He pulls her closer once more and she stifles laughter, moving so her hand instead plays with the hair at the base of his neck.

He mumbles something into his pillow, and now it’s too much for her to hold back her quiet laughter, leaning closer to him as soft breaths escape her lips.

“You’ll have to repeat that one, my dear,” She says, and he brings his face out of the pillow to look at her, his eyes still ridden with sleep.

“Your hands are cold,” He repeats, his voice gravelly and low, words slurred together. She goes to move her fingertips away from his skin, a regretful look sure to be apparent on her face. “No,” He continues, and she stops. “No, I’m sorry, it’s nice. Please, keep doing that.”

With a soft smile on her face, she obliges, her hand returning to the base of his neck to play with the hair there. As her touch comes back to him, he takes his hand off of her back to where her other hand rests between them on the pillow. He twines them together, feeling the chill of her fingertips against his. His touch spreads a warmth beneath her skin, and she can do nothing but bask in it, a grateful sigh leaving her lips at the feeling of his hands upon hers.

He pulls her hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss upon her knuckles, and then he starts to move. She lifts her arm away from him, expecting him to get up and start to get dressed, but instead he only shifts so he’s laying on his side. He brings his hand closest to the mattress up so her cheek can rest on it while his other hand dips below the sheets, choosing to rest on her thigh—just below where her nightgown ends.

“Look at you,” He hums, and then runs his thumb over her cheekbone. “I’ve truly been graced by you.”

Heat dances across the skin of her cheeks and she leans into his touch. He laughs at her movement, but it’s a tired kind of laughter, one that’s softened at the edges.

“Jumin,” She replies, her voice dusted by a warning and an air of scolding, but it’s lighthearted, a smile pulling at her lips.

“Something to say, my love?” He whispers, leaning forward until she can feel his breath against her cheek. She only hums in response, shaking her head and turning into the pillows. She feels Jumin’s laughter against her, and then feels as he shifts again, moving so he can press his lips against her jaw and her neck.

He’s delicate in his touch, sweet against her skin. His warm breath spreads against her cold skin until she’s left shivering into his touch. As his lips fall down her neck, his hand on her thigh trails up, dragging her silk nightgown along with him, until finally he arrives at her hip. Though she’s covered by the sheets, she feels cold air run along her skin, only calmed by the touch of Jumin’s warm hands.

At her waist, he digs his fingers into her skin, but his lips sigh into her neck between kisses, slowly working his way down to her shoulder and collarbone. She says his name and he stops, pulling away to look at her.

“You’ll be stressed if you’re late to work, maybe tonight-“

Jumin cuts her off with a hum. “Not going today,” He mumbles, already having returned to the skin of her neck.

“What?” She asks, pulling back to look at him. He’s surprised at the movement, his eyes a little wider and his brows raised slightly above their normal placing, but then he closes his eyes, pursing his lips together.

“Right,” He says, more to himself than to her. “You were asleep last night so I didn’t tell you then, and I forgot to text you.” His hand on her hip begins to trace comfortable patterns against the flesh there, his thumb moving back and forth as he speaks. “I stayed late last night to finish up today’s work since I was already a little ahead. If they need anything, they can call me of course, but I’ll be doing any emergency work from home.”

Joy settles somewhere in her bones, begging her hands closer to him even as they lay in his hair. Any worry, any time spent trying to think of how to tell him to take a break seems so unneeded now. He knows how to take care of himself, it’s taken him so long, but he’s learned it. So now he lays in front of her, entirely hers for the day, no one else’s.

So of course, she can’t help the way she breaks into a smile, and she surges forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. She catches him by surprise again, but it doesn’t take long for him to fall back into the rhythm. He shifts them until he hovers on top of her—one arm propping him up while the other stays on her waist. He pulls away from her to go back to trailing his lips down her neck—almost determined in the task, but she interrupts him again.

“Wait,” She says, and he pulls away again, looking up at her with concerned eyes. They flit over her, looking for something wrong. “You’ve barely slept and you have all day, shouldn’t you rest?”

Jumin hums slowly and then brings his lips down to her collarbone, kissing the flesh there before answering.

“Later,” He says, and then moves to her shoulder, lightly running his teeth along her skin. “I have something I’d like to attend to first.”

She sighs contentedly at that, allowing his warm hand to crawl up her waist, raising her nightgown further up her body.

And so she melts into his warmth—his lips, his hands, and his voice covering every single inch of her that he can.

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Long Nights - part 5

Neil x Reader

Chapter 5: After rain

(see chapter 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: you learn to cope with the new situation, but you aren't the only one struggling

warnings: 18+, angst and pain, explicit language and other things

author’s note: This part of the story's been with me for... oh, so long. I just hope I did it justice. ✨6,1k words.✨ I don't even know.

Hurt/Comfort.

The song for this part is Dermot Kennedy - After rain

Enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision ​ @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @mellifluous-cosmos @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

Your hands clenched on the bed’s frame, its coldness felt like the only real thing your drugged mind could process.

Doctor’s words were filling the room, but they were muffled as if they were coming from behind a barrier. Falling from such height...extreme luck...no broken bones…head trauma...internal bruising....

Was all that talking really necessary? Yeah, you were battered, all right. And it seems that even with painkillers the weird throbbing, like a morse code from your bruised cells, was about to stay with you for a little while.

...just like the darkness.

The more the doctor spoke, the more it became clear that they didn’t have any definite answers for you. Seemed like the day spent on being prodded, stabbed with needles, and tossed into various machines resulted in nothing more than a verdict: optic nerve injury.

As for what were you supposed to do now--

“Let me get this straight, doctor,” you said, slowly losing patience. “Your only solution now is: let’s wait and see what happens?”

Drumming fingers against a piece of plastic, followed by a sigh.

“Yes. There is no effective treatment, we could try a high dosage of corticosteroids, but there is no evidence that it’s gonna make any difference, really. And as some recovery may spontaneously occur within days or weeks--”

Weeks.

A cold shiver ran down your spine and you swallowed with effort.

And that was a maybe.

You just wanted to go home.

“Grand,” you cut in, “please tell me I can wait for that possible joyful occurrence anywhere else but here.” You aimed for a lighter tone, but every word coming out of your mouth was dripping with bitterness. Grimacing at your own attitude, you forced a weak smile to appear on your face. “No offense, doc.”

“None taken,” the doctor said with a snicker. “I get it.” A short pause filled with a rustling of paper. “With all the tests done, I don’t think we need to keep you here for observation any longer, but I’d recommend you weren’t alone for the next few days. Do you have anyone to take care of you after we discharge you?”

“I don’t need--”

Neil’s firm voice overlapped with yours.

“Yes, she has.”

You huffed, startled. And a bit annoyed.

You almost forgot Neil was in the room, but to be fair, you were quite sure he’d never left your side since you woke up. His initial nervous chatter got replaced by a silent presence, always ready to jump in should you needed anything - no matter if it was a glass of water or an arm to lean on. It was all comforting, endearing even, and you were so grateful to have him around, but the thought of having Neil in your apartment triggered an irrational panic.

Instead of dwelling on the roots of the anxiety, you decided to over-talk it.

“Neil, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be okay, and you surely have better things to do than babysitting me.”

“I don’t.” Was that a hint of hurt in his voice? “Doctor, can you discharge her even if she is gonna be alone out there?”

“I’d rather she spent at least one more day here then.”

Unbelievable. You rolled your eyes, hoping it would make the same effect as always, and groaned. “Fine, you win, only because I want nothing else but to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Excellent,” said the doctor cheerfully, “I’ll get the forms and come back to you soon.”

“Thank you, doc,” you sighed, hanging your head in defeat.

After spending enough time with a person, it was always easy to recognize them by the way they walk. That’s how you knew it was Neil who approached you, ever so hesitantly.

And only because of a brush of his fingers against your hand you realized you were still clinging onto the bed frame.

“Hey, I’ll just help you set up everything you need there, all right?” he said quietly and you felt him sitting down next to you. “You’re gonna have all the space you want, and as soon as you decide it’s too much, I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.”

He must have noticed that little panic of yours, huh?

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to form a coherent thought. “It sounds good though, thank you.”

“Sure thing.” Neil shifted slightly. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged and grimaced. “I don’t know, but either I’ve slept through the best high or these drugs they gave me are kinda lame.” Hearing Neil’s light chuckle, you cracked a small smile. “Honestly? I’m knackered.”

He hummed with sympathy.

“Is there anything I can do for you now?”

The softness in his voice was more than your tired and dazed mind could handle. You leaned to the side and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just… take me home,” you asked, forcing the words past your clenched throat.

Neil exhaled sharply and carefully wrapped an arm around you, pressing a cheek to the top of your head.

“Of course.”

------

“Welcome to my crib.”

“Thank you, it’s...” - Neil hesitated as he closed the door behind you - “...cosy.”

Patting the wall to your right, you located a small hook and hung the keys on it.

“That is certainly one word for it,” you snorted. “Why, what did you expect?”

“Frankly? Considering you’re such an... acclaimed locksmith, I imagined something… well, bigger, for starters.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he stumbled on words, trying so hard not to sound offensive in any way.

Grinning, you put on your most snobbish tone. “Ah, sorry to disappoint, all my gold, glitter, and general pizzaz got moved to one of my many summer houses as my spacious lair worthy of the most infamous thief is under renovation, so I was forced to retreat to my humble family place in this ghastly neighborhood.”

“Such a shame,” he said and a smile brightened his words. “I like it, though. Matches your vibe, somehow.”

“Because it’s small, detached, empty, yet somehow messy?”

Neil sighed in a way you were absolutely sure he was rolling eyes at you, then helped you with the coat. “It’s gonna take more than putting words in my mouth to make me want to leave you here all by yourself, you know.”

You were quite sure a dirty joke was hiding in there, but it eluded your tired brain.

“Damn, need to up my game then,” you giggled, leaning against the wall to take the shoes off without losing your balance. “Nah, I’m messing with you, I’m grateful you got me out of there. Can’t wait to rinse that hospital stench off of me.”

“Do you want me to run a bath for you?”

You mused over the idea for a moment, “Thanks, I’ll take a shower - two minutes tops and I’d end up asleep in the ‘tub.” Probably even faster, considering that you already were running on fumes. “Anyway, make yourself at home, gonna grab some fresh clothes.”

Neil was not willing to give up.

“I’ll get you--”

“I’ve got this,” you uttered, instantly hating yourself for how harsh it came out, so you quickly added, “But would you please put the kettle on?” sending an apologetic grimace along with your words.

“On it.”

He seemed happy to have something to do. Or at least sounded like it as he took the crackling grocery and takeaway bags to the kitchenette.

You walked across the room with confidence, your hand reluctantly extended ahead on your waist level just in case you miscalculated the route to the bedroom. When you reached the door frame, you smiled to yourself. It wasn’t that hard, was it? Almost like going to the bathroom at night, not willing to put the light on to avoid waking up, right?

And exactly then, your shin hit the edge of the bed footboard, the impact sending a searing wave of pain up your whole leg. You bit your knuckle to stifle a groan and a curse that was bound to follow. Every. Goddamn. Time.

The noises coming from the other room stopped, but luckily there was no question. Nor a hero coming to rescue you from the sudden and vicious attacks of furniture.

Finally, the closet. Your fingers ran through the folded clothes. Clean underwear. A soft t-shirt. Comfy pj pants. The fatigue was so severe that the term dress to impress didn’t even cross your mind. Not that Neil cared, right? But before you stepped back from the wardrobe, you hesitated, sliding your hands down to one of the bottom drawers. All that boring into nothingness was straining, and keeping your eyes closed all the time felt wrong, somehow. Might as well, you shrugged, pulling out a silky blindfold. Maybe this would trick your brain into thinking it was just a game. A temporary thing. Nothing serious.

...but what if--

You took a shaky breath and slammed the closet shut. Swallowing with effort, you took the clothes and limped out of the room, then followed the wall to the bathroom.

Neil’s concerned voice reached you halfway there.

“You okay?”

“Peachy,” you said and flashed your teeth in a strained grin.

“Let me know if you need anything, all right?”

A change of strategy, then. You certainly didn’t mind, at least this way it didn’t trigger the unnecessarily rude reaction. And you had a feeling that you were going to need a pair of eyes to take care of those bruises of yours.

...or you could just follow the radiating ache and slap some gel where it hurts most, but at this point, as the painkillers were slowly wearing off, it would probably be easier to just pour the whole tube on the tiles and roll over in it.

“Will do, thanks.”

You closed the door behind you and sighed. The undressing required an accompaniment of grunts, hisses and curses, and when you finally got into the shower (hitting yourself only once while doing so) you were all sweaty and panting as if you’d run up twenty flights of stairs.

You winced as the warm water poured over your body, but you couldn’t wait to get rid of the lingering smell of antiseptics. Using soap uncovered the injured spots with a burning precision, but you gritted your teeth and soldiered through it, changing position slightly so you wouldn’t cause more damage with shampoo and conditioner. Condemning your past self for choosing a matching set of hair products, you were forced to guess and pick one to pour a little bit of it on your hand to judge which is which based on the texture of the fluid. Why did you even bother…?

When you were done and more or less dry, you put on the panties and wrapped another towel around yourself. A slow thumping in your head was growing stronger by the minute, but it was still bearable. As for taking care of the bruises… you realized you didn’t even know where the arnica ointment was. You’d bought one on your way just in case, but that meant--

You groaned and rubbed an eye with the back of your hand. Help it was, then.

“Neil?” you called out, cracking open the door.

A sudden rumble of a chair made you cringe, but a corner of your mouth twitched.

“What is it?” he asked as his rushed steps carried him closer.

“Could you help me with putting something on the most banged-up spots, please?” - a sheepish smile crept on your lips - “I thought about just mixing some cream with my lotion and rubbing it all over, but--”

He scoffed as if the idea personally offended him. “Jesus, please don’t. I’ll be right back.”

Your legs seemed to weigh a tonne, but also started to shake as though they were about to give in any moment, so you sat back on the edge of a bathtub with relief.

Neil came back after a while and muffled clanking suggested he brought a full medkit with him. You waited as he washed his hands thoroughly, and you stifled an amused giggle at the dedication, even though it was nothing more but common sense.

Neil’s soft voice broke the silence. “I’m gonna take a look at those wounds first, but for that, I need to touch you, is it okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you shrugged. “I imagine you can’t do plenty without that, huh?”

A light chuckle. “Fair enough.” And featherlike touches that followed.

Careful fingers examining every bruised inch of skin, starting from the freshly hurt shin, scraped knees, going up your thighs until they met the edge of the towel. Then, ghosting over your hands, unhurriedly moving up the forearms…

You realized your breath got shaky.

He tucked a still quite damp strand of hair behind your ear and his fingertips glided over your forehead and down your temple, traced your jawline up to your chin. His knuckles grazed your neck, then moved across your collarbones, but when they met the towel again, Neil hesitated.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” you joked playfully and untucked the corner of the towel, letting it slide down your body.

A sharp inhale and a slipped-out curse.

“Christ…” uttered Neil, and you were quite sure what he was referring to. Your hip pulsated with dull pain in the place where the oxygen container had been, or rather where it must have moved to during the escape, bruising the hip bone and surrounding area at the impact.

You forced a crooked smile to your face. “And here I was hoping it looked better than it felt.”

“I can always lie to you if you want,” he offered, aiming for a lighter tone.

Shaking your head, you nibbled on your bottom lip. Somehow, the sole thought of him lying to you seemed like a certain heartache.

“No.” Your voice sounded weak, but maybe that was understandable, given how powerless you felt overall. Or maybe you could stop being so pathetic any moment now.

You closed your eyes, and while you tried to parley with your brain to give you a break, Neil started meticulously treating your wounds, focused on not causing any more discomfort than it was needed. You switched all your attention to his ministrations, grimacing slightly from time to time as he was tending particularly sore spots. Neil’s warm fingers contrasted with the cold ointment, all the different sensations fought a merciless battle to take precedence over one another, making even more of a mess in your tired head.

You heard Neil shifting in front of you as he was about to move to your injured face. Acting on an impulse, you spread your legs to allow him to come closer, and so he did, positioning himself on his knees between your thighs without a word. Quite a concentration, you thought and smiled fondly to your memories of the times you’d seen him so committed to a task. Slightly furrowed brows, blonde strands falling into shining blue eyes, with a bottom lip tugged between the teeth...

A brief touch on your temple brought you back to reality and you gasped, reaching out to hold on to Neil to keep your balance. As you rested your hands on his sides, he gently cupped your face and continued with taking care of the bruises. It felt as if the warmth radiating from him was mending you whole, even more so when it got combined with tender, soothing brushes of Neil’s thumb against your cheek. You melted into his palm and exhaled slowly, dropping your shoulders and relaxing.

Before you could stop the words from spilling out, you said under your breath, “It was just a fall, I don’t know how it got that bad,” voicing the thought that’s been on your head all day.

Neil pulled back abruptly and the tranquil moment shattered like glass against the bathroom tiles.

“Are you being serious right now? Just a fall? You’re lucky you’re alive, goddamnit, let alone able to walk!” Disbelief mixed with anger in his tone, taking you aback. And to your surprise, it felt like yet another wound, inflicted right at your chest. “Y-you hit the wall before you crashed on the ground, you--” his voice broke and Neil sighed. You heard him packing the medkit, simply tossing things inside before he moved away.

“Oh,” was all you could say, reaching for the abandoned towel to wrap it over your shoulders, in a sudden and desperate need to cover yourself. In every way possible. “Remind me to tie a cat and a buttered slice of bread to myself the next time we do this.”

He didn’t respond to your poor attempt at lighting up the mood, instead, you heard the door handle, a deadpanned “I’ll heat up the food” and he was gone.

You had no idea where his reaction had come from. Normally, you’d have followed him straight away to confront him, but right then you felt so exhausted and helpless you just slouched in your spot, with your hands fisted on the towel, and sat like that for a while, leveling your breath. You mustered all the strength you had left, found your clothes and put them on. Then, you tied the blindfold, letting a piece of sleek material bring a shred of comfort and hide a pitiful glimmer in the corners of your eyes.

You joined Neil in the other room and sat at the table. He didn’t comment on your attire nor the choice of accessories, hell, he barely even spoke to you when he put the plate in front of you, as well as through the whole meal.

Even though you’d picked up your favourite comfort food on the way, it tasted bland, and with your stomach tied into a knot, you couldn’t force more than a few bites into your system. Judging by the sounds - or rather the lack thereof - coming from across the table, Neil’d lost his appetite too.

Finally, you cleared your throat, breaking the heavy silence. “I think I’m full,” you said and stood up, grimacing slightly.

“I’ll do the dishes, go lie down,” he said quietly. “Please.”

As if he anticipated an argument. You really had no energy for that.

“Thank you. Are you--...” you stumbled on the question, but Neil chimed in.

“I’ll be on the couch.”

...maybe it was for the best.

You nodded and turned on your heel to fetch a spare pillow and a blanket while Neil was occupied with the dishes. The ever-growing headache was becoming unbearable, but you hoped that the sweet arms of Morpheus would bring a much-needed release soon. You brushed your teeth quickly and mumbling “‘night,” you disappeared into the bedroom, leaving the door half open for god knows what reasons. Perhaps to make you feel less alone.

The plan of sleeping off the worst pain looked good on paper but proved to be too hard to execute. That bloody awful feeling of being tired beyond comprehension and still unable to doze off, right? You tossed and turned (although carefully), trying to find the most comfortable position. After a while, you took the blindfold off and curled on your side, staring into the nothingness again. Listening to the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Forcing every breath through your clenched chest. Trying to focus on anything other than neverending soreness.

You heard Neil’s footsteps and how they stopped right at your door. Stalling.

And you didn’t even try pretending you were asleep. Waiting.

“Hey... I wanted to check if you need anything before I turn in for the night.”

The softness of his voice was tainted by something as if he was holding back. But you were so glad to hear it anyway.

“Actually,” you said, propping yourself on the elbow and wincing, “could you bring me one of those fancy painkillers, please? I thought I might do without for a little while but-- ...yeah, not quite.”

“Of course, coming right up.”

When Neil was back, you sat on the bed, allowing him to hand you a glass and ...a shot glass? You shook the latter slightly and something rattled inside.

“Ah, okay, smart,” you smiled with recognition. “Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me you thought it was vodka?”

A hint of amusement in his tone made you snort.

“I can’t say I would mind,” - shrugging, you swallowed the pill and washed it down with cool water - “but this is gonna be more efficient, I guess.”

You shifted in your spot to put down both glasses on a bedside table. Neil was there to make sure you actually placed them on top of it, pushing your forearm gently when you were about to create a mess.

That light touch brought a lump back to your throat. As if the awkward silence wasn’t suffocating you enough.

“If that’s all…” said Neil quietly, taking a step towards the door.

But you reached out into the darkness and found his hand.

“Neil…” you squeezed his fingers, desperately trying to convey words that eluded you. Your plea was barely a whisper. “...stay?”

The pulse pounded in your ears as the stillness that followed seemed to last forever.

Then, Neil squeezed your hand back.

“I will,” he choked out, and his thumb grazed over your knuckles. “Be right back.”

You nodded and let go of his hand, not even sure that he could see your gesture, then moved to the other side of the bed. The held-back breath escaped in a shudder as another wave of pain overrode your senses, leaving a trail of cold sweat down your spine.

A faint tock of the light switch in the other room, then footsteps and a pillow landing next to yours. Neil snuggled down, keeping his distance, and you curled again in your spot, hoping that his proximity will calm you down enough to fall asleep. But as you said your goodnights and Neil’s breath leveled and got deeper, you still waited on the pills to start working, getting more and more lost in your own head and thoughts you’d managed to keep lidded on until now.

Because if only you’d cracked that safe faster. Or maybe if you’d discussed that escape route beforehand, somebody would have found a better path through the roofs. No, scratch that, the plan was tight, and it was your goddamn fault that you’d gotten distracted by a sodding rain, of all things. And that jump? Bloody amateur hour. Should have seen that coming, stepped to the side, or caught onto anything. You’d been granted a second chance at that wall. But no, you’d had to panic like a bush-leaguer, as if it had been your first fall in your life. And now you were lying there, feeling sorry for yourself. Abso-fucking-lutely pathetic.

What if Madame Karma finally decided to make you pay? What if you were never going to get your sight back? A warm tear trickled down your face slowly. No more free runs and adrenaline rushes while taking shortcuts through the most obscure places. No more lying on the rooftops to observe how the sky changes colours through the night. No more sitting on the hill and watching how the sun reflected in the river. How it danced on that messy blonde hair. You would never see his blue eyes lighting up again--

Your chin trembled as the tears stained your pillow. It felt as if you were nothing but pain, fear, and heartbreak. Pressing your lips together, you stifled a sob that shook your body mercilessly. You were nothing.

“What’s wrong?”

You wanted to brush it off, to tell him you were okay and he could go back to sleep. But instead, you sniffled and whimpered, unable to pass any word through your tightened throat.

Neil gasped and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey, come here,” he said softly as his fingers pressed lightly onto your back, urging you to move and you shifted into his embrace, clenching your fists on his t-shirt, struggling for every breath. “I’ve got you, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” he cooed, wrapping the arms around you gingerly. A much-needed reassurance whispered over and over again like a plea to anyone who could be listening.

Weeping quietly into Neil’s chest, you sought refuge in his closeness, clinging onto him as he held you and stroked your hair, waiting for the worst to pass. Soon, you ran out of tears, and there were just sobs, convulsing you whole like a heart-wrenching hiccup. Neil hugged you a little tighter, placed a small kiss on top of your head, and started humming, a melody barely more than a murmur. It felt familiar, but why?

By and by, the song and a steady heartbeat against your cheek weaved together and calmed your racing mind. Enough to finally let you drift off, with Neil’s soothing voice and warmth enveloping you, bringing comfort and hope for a better tomorrow.

-----

You should have known better than to expect something to be different when you woke up. Swallowing down the disappointment and resignation, you dug yourself up from under the covers. The pain dialed down, but was very much there, especially during sudden moves.

Maybe you would feel better if you washed your face, still a bit puffed after all that--

…oh shit.

Your brain halted, torn between making you cringe and spreading the warmth through your chest. If you were to survive the day, the key was not to think about what happened last night. At least you didn’t have to look him in the eyes, huh? Armed with a smile, albeit a bit sour, you grabbed some clothes on your way out and ventured into the quiet living room.

“Neil?”

For a split second you were sure he was gone, but--

“Over here.” Judging by the sound of it, here was somewhere near the couch. “How are you feeling?”

Concern. Obviously. He’d seen you at your worst, so there was no point in hiding your state.

“Like I’ve spent some time inside a cement mixer,” you sighed. “But better, thanks. What time is it?”

“Almost 3 o’clock.” A faint thud of a book being put down. “Are you hungry? I was about to fix something.”

It was a good moment for your insides to growl in confirmation, but at least this time your body decided to spare you. Although your stomach was pretty much cleaving to your backbone, all right.

“Oh yes, please.” You smiled with appreciation and raised a hand with a bundle of clothes. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

That minute took a little longer, as your mobility was still pretty lacking, but fresh as a (beaten-up) daisy, in a comfortable outfit and a blindfold, you followed your nose to the kitchenette.

“Smells delicious.”

A soft chuckle came through the sizzling. “Hope it tastes good as well, wanna try?” When you nodded, you heard Neil walking up to you. “Open your mouth, careful - it’s hot.”

You recognized the rich flavor as some variation of the Napoli sauce, perfectly balanced, and you could only hum in approval. Where the hell had he gotten those herbs from?

“It’s amazing,” you said, but couldn’t resist a little smirk, “or I’m just starving.”

Neil scoffed lightly. “Might be that.” There was a smile and a hint of pride in his tone, and it made you beam a little wider. “Come sit down.”

When you did, and a bowl of pasta landed in front of you on the table, your mind involuntarily went back to last evening. That tension. Sudden distance. Everything after that. What was worse, it seemed like you weren’t the only one thinking about it, because the silence that fell between you now grew heavy with unresolved issues lingering in the air.

But maybe you were misreading the room and you were fine.

“Listen, about yesterday--”

...or not.

Instead of letting Neil finish, you panicked, and before you could stop yourself, you used his moment of hesitation to blurt out, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I was exhausted and everything hurt and--” you frowned and hid the face in your palm. The shame felt like a tightening ring around your chest, making it hard to breathe. ”I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Wait, what?” huffed Neil, his voice filled with consternation. ”Jesus, no, that’s not what I meant, I--” he faltered and groaned, then added more softly, “Why are you even apologizing for that?” And when you shook your head, unable to find the right words, Neil gently touched your arm, rubbing it up and down slowly. “I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

Your heart clenched with fondness as you palmed over his hand.

“Thank you for being there for me.”

A twist of the wrist and a light squeeze on your fingers.

“Of course.”

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

After a moment, you asked quietly, “If it isn’t about that, then what?”

A loud buzz cut through the air, the unexpected noise almost making you jump in your seat. Impeccable timing.

Neil picked the vibrating phone from the table. “It’s work, I have to get that.” His hand was still holding yours, reluctant to let go. “If I’m not done by the time you finish eating, two words: bed rest.”

“May I make it a couch rest, doc?” you grinned, and by the resigned sigh you could tell Neil definitely rolled his eyes at you.

“Just make yourself comfy and horizontal, all right?” A final brush of his thumb against your fingers and he was up, walking off from the table. “Hi, what’s up?”

Whatever they needed him for, it took so much time that you finished your meal and obediently moved to the couch. That unfinished talk left you anxious enough to nervously pick at the edge of the blanket, but as Neil was still lost in a hushed conversation, and the aforementioned blanket was way too cosy, you slowly drifted off into a dreamless nap.

You weren’t sure what woke you up - a shift on the other side of the couch, or a heavy sigh, one of those signaling the weight of the whole world on somebody’s shoulders. Hearing the latter was enough to wipe the remains of sleep from your system and you sat up, grunting slightly.

“What is it?”

Another sigh.

“I’m an idiot.”

You puffed your cheeks and shrugged, a corner of your mouth twitching in a nervous smile.

“Before I let out a purposeful no and kick you - why are you saying that?” Silence. “...Neil?” When the answer was not coming for too long, you moved to your knees, reaching out until you touched his shoulder. No reaction. Trying to keep a rising worry at bay, you urged him quietly, “Talk to me, please.”

Neil inhaled slowly and he finally spoke, his voice barely there.

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” you asked, knitting your brows together as you brushed your hand down his arm only to find his clenched fist, tightening even further under your touch.

“For yesterday, for letting it out on you, when you were just--” he paused to swallow audibly, and then continued, blurting out one strained word after another, “and all of that while this whole mess is my goddamn fault because if I hadn’t hesitated out there, we both would have made it in time--”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that to yourself,” you said, crawling into his lap and nestling between his legs, wrapping yours around his waist. “It was a perfectly normal reaction.” The pulse thumped in your ears when you placed one hand on Neil’s chest and the other one travelled up along his neck to cup his face. Then your thumb glided over a wet trail on his cheek and it felt as if your heart shattered into a million pieces. Oh please, no. “My darling...” you whispered, but it was as if Neil barely acknowledged you were there, trembling and lost.

He pressed his forehead to yours and continued, traces of dread ringing in his hollow tone more and more with every choked-out sentence.

“When I turned back and I saw that--….at first, I thought you’d been shot, then you fell and-- suddenly all I could think was if your oxygen container was intact, or--... I called the Cavalry on the way down but I was so scared I was too late, I thought--” his voice broke and you felt him frowning as he shuddered, struggling to carry on. “I thought that you were gone, and I didn’t--”

His heart raced under your palm while you kept stroking his cheek, consoling him softly, “Neil, I’m here, it’s all right, I’m here.” But when that didn’t seem like enough to bring him back to you, you reached to his neck to pull him closer and kissed him, desperate to make him stop spiralling down. To make him stop hurting.

A muffled whine against your lips. But then you felt him melt and he kissed you back, still helpless, wrapping his arms around you carefully as if he expected you to fall apart under his touch. Not quite there. You deepened the kiss purposefully, burying your hands in his hair, tugging at the strands as you pressed yourself to him as much as you could in your position. You didn’t care about your own pain or discomfort. If any of you were meant to be lost in any way, it might as well be this. Neil gasped and lifted you up so you properly straddled him, then tightened the embrace, clinging on to you for dear life as he captured you in another kiss, and this time it was his turn to try to convey the unbearable mixture of despair, relief, and immense longing. All of that poured into this simple act of devotion until there was nothing but pure need. To touch and to be touched. To hold and to be held. To be close. To be wanted. To be found.

A breathless moan escaped your mouth and Neil pulled back ever so slightly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, his fingertips gliding over your features.

Oh, how much you missed looking into his eyes.

The fact that he cared, without simply going ahead with it, made your chest clench with fondness. At this point, you trusted him beyond reason, although it was still nice to hear it.

“I’m not made of glass,” you huffed, nuzzling his nose.

A low hum and a trail of kisses along your jawline. You shivered when his lips reached a spot just below your ear and then smiled against your skin.

“Are you sure?” his husky voice was playful, but you knew he was double-checking.

“Try me.”

That moment was not about chasing the high. It was about feeling each other. Being with one another. As close as possible. That couldn’t wait, and neither could any of you, tugging at the clothes in random order with urgency.

Neil looped his arm around your shoulders, settling you on your side in his embrace. Keeping you steady. Safe. Close. And even though his kisses were desperate and leaving you winded, his touch was gentle, and you knew the blue eyes were watching you attentively, ready to react to the smallest sign of discomfort. But also to any encouragement to go further.

A hitched breath. A leg hooked on his hip. Fingers dragged across his back.

He was ready to give you everything and take whatever you were willing to offer. And you wanted to do the same for him until everything else lost its meaning and it was just you and him, and the fire that burned inside you. Searing every nerve. Cleansing the doubts. Numbing the pain. Lighting up the darkness. And, in the end, bringing resolution as you both came undone, moaning and gasping for air only to be comforted by hands cupping cheeks and yet another kiss. Slow. Tender. Full of admiration.

When Neil drew back and shifted slightly, you whined in protest, wrapping your leg around him tighter to keep him in place.

“Where are you going?”

A quiet chuckle, followed by a feeling of a soft blanket sliding over your naked body. And a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You sighed with content as Neil pulled you closer again. The light stubble scratched your fingers as they studied the impossible angles of his face unhurriedly.

“Good.”

(next chapter ->)

[wolfstar-supremacy-innit]

"Tell who?"- Part 3

Remus smiled into his pillow. Why’s he so cute? He felt something rustle under his stomach. Reaching under himself, he pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment. His resolutions list. Remus flipped onto his back and squinted at the letters. Warmth was pooling in his chest. Something is missing here. He patted the bed in search for his quill and ink, then wrote:

5. Fuck this I wanna tell him I love him

The paper slipped to the floor as Remus’ arms gave out and he drifted into an instantaneous, profound sleep.

Alternatively:

The Marauders are in their 6th year at Hogwarts, it's New Year's Eve and Remus writes a New Year's resolutions list. Sirius finds it the next day. The story is written from Remus' point of view. It's wolfstar and lighthearted. Kinda inspired by this fanfic.

This is part 3 of the story. I will be posting the other parts separately here and also the full fic on ao3 (I will link everything when it's done, check this post for that in some time). Warnings: underage drinking and smoking, mentions of anxiety disorder.

Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy <3

I’m such an idiot. I’m an idiot. Why didn’t I lie?! Why didn’t I disprove it? This was it. This was the end of the world. He knew Sirius wouldn’t react terribly badly. He wouldn’t express disgust or resentment, not after Remus confided in him about how sensitive he was on the question of his own sexuality. But it would be painfully awkward. Their connection would never be the same; it couldn’t. Remus dreaded losing his best friend. But it was done. Sirius’ best friend was James anyway. Remus buried his face in his hands as tears stung his eyes. He settled into his new hideout and slept there for the night. He couldn’t bear to face Sirius.

In the morning, Remus made an effort to arrive to Charms class as late as possible, right as Flitwick was commencing his lesson. He slid into the chair at the end of their usual table, next to James. Sirius was on the other end. “Where were you, mate? You scared us,” James whispered. Peter was gazing at Remus over his shoulder.

Remus cleared his throat. “Sorry, fell asleep in my spot,” he said. In his peripheral vision, Sirius was leaning far on the table, trying to catch his attention. But Remus took it upon himself to laser focus on the lesson, his nose buried so deep into his notes, it was nearly touching the parchment.

After the class, he bolted again. He just couldn’t face him. He couldn’t. He returned to his hiding place and waited out his free period and most of lunch. He had to repeat his breathing exercises more than ever. Suddenly, Remus paused. Determination was rising in his chest. Then he forced himself to pull it together. It wasn’t like Remus to run away from his problems. If being a werewolf had taught him anything, it was that neglecting and avoiding your issues doesn’t make them vanish. Makes them worse, even. Also, Remus didn’t have a lot. He had his parents, music, books, magic, and he had his friends. There wasn’t much he prised more than his friendships with James, Sirius and Peter. Sirius knowing about his crush was thoroughly embarrassing, yes, but it wasn’t worth completely losing his friends. Plus, he was due for a shower. So Remus took a few more deep breaths, dusted himself off, and headed for the dorm. When he got there, nobody was inside. He took his sweet time in the shower, allowing the warm water to drain out more of his nervous energy. I can handle this.

When Remus got out, Sirius was there, lying on his stomach, doing homework. He looked up. Remus put on a brave face and said: “Hi.” Sirius’ worried expression was exchanged with a slightly more relaxed one. “Hi.” Remus sat on his own bed looking in Sirius’ general direction, but not quite at him, cleared his throat, and said: “Um, sorry I bolted. That was childish.”

“That’s alright,” Sirius replied in the tiniest voice. It was very unlike his usual loud, assertive self.

Remus wanted the bed to swallow him whole, but he pushed through. “We don’t have to talk about the... thing. Or acknowledge it. It’s not a big deal, really.” A lie. But it needed to be done. Sirius didn’t say anything. Remus was certain he didn't know what to say. Reaching into his bag, Remus retrieved his Charms textbook and started on his own homework. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sirius still looking at him for another minute, then he went back to work. The silence was agonising and tense, but Remus had known it would be. They would just have to persevere. After a while, Sirius asked: “Hey, could you help me with this? It’s Arithmancy. I procrastinated, and now I have to hand it in in half an hour.” Remus snorted. Their next class was Arithmancy, and only he and Sirius took it. So, Sirius was choosing to act like nothing happened. That was okay with Remus. “Sure.”

Only, as it happens, Sirius didn’t ignore it. Throughout the next week, he started acting a little peculiar. He was still loud and fooling around, but he would also hold doors for Remus, for example. If anyone knew Sirius, they knew doors were either held for him, or he would just swing them open and let them slam behind him into the next person’s face. Even James noticed it and asked him if he had brain damage. Also, a couple times at meals, Sirius would scoot his seat closer to Remus’, making their arms brush while they ate. The first time it happened, Remus blushed so profusely, he could see giant pink splotches splattered all over his neck and cheeks in his reflection in one of the large silver bowls on the table. Sirius stopped calling him ‘mate’ too. Occasionally, he’d ask for help with his homework, even though he clearly didn’t need it. It all made Remus want to shoot himself in the face with a hex. It seemed like Sirius was pitying him, and he despised it. It was somehow worse than Sirius being awkward and distant around him.

January’s full moon fell on the 25th, and Remus’ transformation didn’t go particularly smoothly. It was likely one of the worst ones out of all those he spent with his friends as animagi. He was fairly confident it was because of the whole Sirius thing. Just because he decided to deal with it didn’t mean it wasn’t taking its toll. Remus was stressed all the time. Not just because of Sirius, of course, but that was a key factor. When he woke up in the hospital wing the following morning, his friends were there. James rambled on enthusiastically about an upcoming Quidditch match. Remus didn’t really comprehend half of it, but still tried to nod at appropriate times. Peter piped in once in a while to agree with James or add something. Sirius, however, was completely silent the whole visit. About an hour later, Madam Pomfrey chased James, Sirius and Peter out, but Remus didn’t mind too much. He was knackered. He drifted off to sleep before the boys were even out the door.

Later that day, at dusk, Remus sat in his hospital bed reading a muggle novel when Sirius popped in. Or rather sneaked in. He was alone this time. “Had a free period. Thought you might want some company,” he explained. Elation started brewing in Remus’ stomach.

“Oh, brilliant, thanks.”

“What are you up to, then?” Sirius sat on the bed.

Remus lifted his book. “Reading. Not much to do here, really.”

“Sweet. Will you read to me?”

“What?”

Sirius smiled. “Will you read out loud for me?” He turned around, plopped on the bed face-up with his boots propped up on the railing at the foot of the bed. He tucked his hands behind his head, half lying on Remus’ legs.

“Oh, okay.” Heat sneaked up Remus’ neck. He read to Sirius until it was almost time for him to leave for his next class.

“Transfiguration next. Think I’m gonna gouge out my eyes if we don’t move on from teacup to gerbil.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You mastered it two lessons ago.” Remus rolled his eyes, smiling. Sirius let out a soft laugh.

“Moony...” He was now sitting on the bed next to Remus. “I feel like this is my fault.” He reached out and gently touched the bandage on Remus’ arm. Sirius was referring to Remus’ beat-up state.

“What? Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Well, because of the... You know... I mean, you’re upset and-“ Remus’ heartbeat picked up swiftly. They hadn’t so much as mentioned the crush since that day in the dorm.

“I’m not upset. Really. I just have a lot on my mind.” He searched his brain for something more to say to make Sirius feel better. It wasn’t his fault at all. It was Remus’ for letting this bother him so much. “It’s not you.”

“You sure?” His eyes were so sad; it was painful.

“Yes, Sirius, really. It’s not you, okay?”

“Okay.” After a pause, Sirius continued: “Oh, I almost forgot. Brought you something.” He smiled, finally. After rummaging in his bag, Sirius emerged with a stack of chocolate bars and dropped them into Remus’ lap. They were Remus’ favourite. Warmth fluttered across his chest. Sirius had to have ordered these from Honeydukes. Now it was Remus’ time to smile.

“Oh, brilliant! Thanks, Sirius.”

“No problem. Right. I better clear off, then. I can’t handle another detention with Minnie for something as stupid as being late.”

“Right. See you in the dorm then.”

“See ya, Moony. Oh, loved the reading. We should definitely do that again!” Then he walked out the door. Remus’ cheeks flamed crimson. He sank deep into the covers, yanking them over his head. He’s gonna be the death of me.

***

After that visit at the hospital, another strange thing started happening. On several occasions, Remus caught Sirius staring at him, then quickly looking away when their eyes connected. In class, at meals, in the common room as the four of them sat in front of the fireplace doing homework. It made Remus very nervous and a little confused. Furthermore, with James’ upcoming match, Sirius and Remus found themselves alone more often than not. James either had practice or was in the library going over tactics for his team, and Peter loved tagging along. When Sirius and Remus were alone in the dorm, Sirius would usually suggest that Remus read to him. At first, they were in their respective beds, but then Sirius started sneaking onto Remus’ bed as he read. It made Remus’ heart thump every time, because Sirius Black in his bed, well. That was a sight to see. He would lounge on his back, one ankle over the other, hands behind his head, eyes shut, and listen. He never fell asleep. Occasionally, he would laugh or comment on an interesting segment.

One of those times, both of them were on Remus’ bed as Remus read “A Stranger in a Strange Land” by Robert A. Heinlein. Sirius liked the muggle books. He was in his usual disposition, with half of his hair loosely and messily pulled back with a hair tie. Remus adored that look on Sirius. He was sitting cross-legged in level with Sirius’ hips, with the book sprawled onto his lap.

“Hey, got a cig,” Sirius asked as Remus was turning the page.

“Yep.” He used Accio to fetch his rolling equipment from his bedside table, placed the contents on the rizla and performed his spell. It rolled smoothly, the tobacco and filter tucked tightly into the paper. He’d been practising.

“Hey, that’s one thing off your resolutions list,” Sirius said, smiling as he accepted the cigarette. Their fingers touched.

“Well, technically, it’s two, isn’t it...,” Remus trailed off, clearing his throat. Christ, why did I say that?! He could already feel the blood rushing in his ears. Maybe Sirius wouldn’t get the reference... But Sirius pushed himself onto his elbows and peered at him. Remus pretended to pack up his cigarette equipment with intense concentration. Sirius sat all the way up and leaned so close, Remus could feel his breath. Nervousness sparked off goosebumps all over Remus’ skin. He swallowed thickly. Sirius smelled of mint and expensive shampoo. “Moony,” he said, and Remus finally turned to face him. Their noses were less than two centimetres apart. Remus’ heart was hammering against his ribs.

Sirius glanced at his lips, then slowly leaned in and closed the distance. Remus fluttered his eyes shut as adrenaline set his insides ablaze. The kiss was warm and gentle. “Sirius..,” Remus started, but the other boy just connected their lips again, this time kissing him more eagerly, and Remus just gave over. Sirius was letting him know this wasn’t charity; he really wanted it. He licked into Remus’ mouth delicately, grasping the back of his neck to pull him closer. Remus had never had a real tongue kiss before, but Sirius was leading him, and it all came naturally. Without warning, he felt tears burning behind his closed eyes. Remus had never, not even for a moment, let himself get caught up in the idea of Sirius liking him back. He knew rejection would shatter his soul, and he couldn’t let himself be torn apart by his own fantasies. But it wasn’t a fantasy anymore, and Remus was overwhelmed with the relief of letting go. Of finally allowing himself to crave what he'd been pushing down for months. His favourite person wanting him back. He entwined his fingers into Sirius’ hair and kissed him back intensely. They were both breathing heavily, then Sirius placed his other palm on Remus’ upper thigh. A tingling sensation shot up his lower back as he inhaled a long breath through his nose. Sirius was remarkably skilled, Remus noted.

Remus lost all sense of time. He didn’t know how long they kissed, it simultaneously felt like minutes and hours. Suddenly, they leapt apart as steps and chatter echoed on the stairs leading to the dorm. Sirius stood up and hurriedly smoothed down his hair. Remus wiped his lips with the back of his hand and frantically covered his lap with the covers. He was tight in his trousers. Christ. He wondered whether Sirius noticed as the heat blazed his cheeks. Peter and James trudged into the room, still talking.

“Alright lads,” James said, sauntered to his bed and started taking off his Quidditch robes.

Sirius cleared his throat, then said: “Uh, yeah. Brilliant.” His voice came out lower that usual.

"Bloody amazing practice today!"

“Oh, you guys Should have seen them! I could barely keep track of the Quaffle! Ravenclaw hasn’t got a chance,” Peter prattled on, but Remus couldn’t focus. His brain was whirring a thousand miles a minute. Holy shit, was the only coherent sentence his mind could congregate. He could still feel the the ghost of Sirius’ kiss on his lips.

Minutes later, Sirius returned to his usual banter and mucking about with James. If something different was going on inside his head, it didn’t show. A sudden arrow of disappointment and yearning shot through Remus’ chest. Was this just a one-off? His excitement dwindled for a moment, but when he glanced over to Sirius again, he was already looking at him. They smiled at each other. It didn’t matter anyway. Remus felt like this kiss could power his brain for all eternity. It had been like something straight out of a dream.

Part 4 will probably take me a little longer, given that I basically had the first 3 parts drafted when I posted the first one. Also 4 will probs be the last one. Hope you like it so far! :) <3

Part 1 Part 2

[drmmyrs]

Dropped (Becca x MC) Part 2

Hey guys, thank you for the support on the first part of this series (Yess I’m planning to turn it into a mini series). It was hard to write just because I could feel Emily’s heartbreak throughout this chapter but I know a lot of you thrive on the pain like I do 🥲🥲. This chapter might be a tad boring for your taste since I’m kinda setting the scene for the next part but I still hope you enjoy. Let me know what you guys think and I’d really appreciate feedback/constructive criticism.

tag list: @wlwplaychoices  @alexlabhont @woltk @alexroyard @red-queen1013 ( including those who reblogged and replied to the 1st part. If you want to be included in the tag list just let me know ☺️)  

Read Part 1

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Word Count: 1742

Warnings: Some swearing

You don't love me anymore, do you?

Emily quickly gathered her things as well as some of her clothes, not wanting to spend a second more in that room than she needed to. She dialed Kaitlyn's number as she walked away from the place she had called home for almost a year. She was now crying full-blown tears with her hand covering her mouth as passersby looked at her with sympathy. Kaitlyn picked up on the third ring.

"Hey, Em— Are you crying?"

"Can I stay with you for a while? I just had to get out of there. I'm sorry. I don't know where else to go."

"Hey, hey, of course, you can. Where are you right now? Do you want me to pick you up?" Kaitlyn said gently, her voice full of concern.

"No, it's okay. I can get there on my own."

The walk to Kaitlyn's apartment was a blur. Emily vaguely remembered someone calling out to her, but she was too busy replaying the last few hours to even notice.

When Emily arrived at Kaitlyn's apartment, Kaitlyn immediately pulled her in for a hug.

"Hey, what happened? Did you and Becca get into a fight?"

Emily nodded, unable to speak as tears were now falling uncontrollably down her face. After some time, Kaitlyn pulled away and gently guided Emily to the couch, and fetched her a glass of water.

"Whatever happened between the two of you, I'm sure you'll be able to fix it," Kaitlyn said comfortingly as she gently rubbed Emily's back.

"No, I don't think we can fix it this time." A fresh set of tears emerged. "You should have seen her face, Kaitlyn. She... she... she looked at me like I was..." Unable to finish the sentence, Emily buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

"Oh, Emily." Kaitlyn pulled her in for another hug. They stayed like that for a while until Emily's cries died down to quiet sobs.

"I'm sorry. I think I ruined your shirt," Emily said weakly.

"Eh. It's not my style anyway. I was actually just about to burn it when you came," Kaitlyn jested, attempting to lighten the mood. Emily managed a weak smile.

"Are you feeling better?" Kaitlyn said softly.

Emily nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Emily shook her head. "I think I just need to lie down for a while."

"Let's get you to bed then."

"It's okay. I can sleep here on the couch."

"Nonsense. I'm not leaving you here like that. Come on."

Kaitlyn smiled gently at Emily as she took her hand and guided her to the bedroom. "You can stay here for as long as you need to."

"Thank you, Kaitlyn," Emily murmured, tired from all the crying. After she had settled into bed, Emily took out her phone and stared at the wallpaper as a lone tear ran down her cheek. It was a photo of her and Becca with Becca's arm wrapped around her waist and Becca's lips pressed against her cheek. Emily released a trembly breath as she turned off her phone and drifted off to sleep. — "Why the long face?" Becca asked, wrapping Emily in her arms.

"Just a tiring day is all," Emily replied, melting into the embrace.

"I know what'll make you feel better. How about I go out and buy your favorite ice cream real quick, and then we can watch any movie you want. How's that sound?"

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you. In all honesty, though, I'd rather do things to you," Becca teased.

Emily giggled and playfully smacked Becca. "You're terrible."

"One more thing. Give me your phone."

"Why?" Emily asked as she hesitantly handed her phone to Becca. Becca then shifted behind Emily and wrapped her arm around her waist as she pressed her lips on Emily's cheek, taking a photo. Becca made a series of taps on her phone until Emily was greeted with a new wallpaper.

"So that when you're having a bad enough day, you can just look at your phone and remember that at the end of the day, someone will be waiting for you at home, someone who loves you so crazy much." —

Emily woke up late in the morning when she faintly heard Kaitlyn speaking on the phone outside. "—I don't think she'll want to talk to you anyway... Yeah, I will. Don't worry."

Kaitlyn came back to the room minutes later. "Hey, you're up."

"Yeah. Was that..."

Kaitlyn looked at Emily apologetically. "You heard, huh?"

"What did she want?"

"She wanted to talk to you. She sounded really sorry, Em."

Emily sighed. "I don't think I can talk to her yet."

Kaitlyn nodded understandingly. "Take as much time as you need to. By the way, I know you have class a while ago, but I wasn't sure if I should wake you up. Sorry."

"It's okay. I wasn't planning on going anyway."

"I have classes soon, but I can stay here if you want," Kaitlyn said sympathetically.

"No, you should go. Don't worry, I'll be fine," Emily replied with a weak smile.

"Alright. But text me if you need anything. There's food in the fridge and feel free to use the shower. What's mine is yours. I'll be back soon." Kaitlyn gave Emily a quick hug before heading out.

***

Becca's POV

Becca glanced at the clock- 11 AM. Her head was pounding as she recalled the previous night's events.

"Ughh. I'm never gonna drink again," she muttered to herself.

She glanced around the room and noticed that the sheets beside her remained untouched. She managed to get out of bed and walked out of the room sluggishly.

"Babe? Yesterday I-" She looked around the apartment and found that it was empty. Oh, right it's Monday. She's probably in class.

Becca went back to their bedroom and as her eyes adjusted, she noticed that half of Emily's things were gone. She immediately opened Emily's closet and found that some of her clothes were missing. At that moment, she knew she fucked up.

Becca quickly charged her dead phone and as soon as it lit up, several texts and voicemails from yesterday popped up. They were from Emily. Crap. Becca immediately dialed Emily's number but it went straight to voicemail. Becca paced around the room as she recalled their fight yesterday and it just dawned on her how serious it was. She remembered Emily shouting at her and oh god she looked so heartbroken. Rebecca Davenport, you stupid bitch. Becca then proceeded to call Kaitlyn.

"Hey Kaitlyn, have you seen Emily?" "Yeah, she went here crying last night. What happened, Becca? She was a mess." "I fucked up. Is she with you right now? I really need to talk to her." "She's still asleep, and I don't think she'll want to talk to you anyway." "Can you at least tell her I'm sorry? Just please make sure she's okay." "Yeah, I will. Don't worry."

***

Emily's POV

"You have to eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"And I'm not gonna let you starve to death."

"Well, there are worse ways to go."

Kaitlyn sighed. "Okay, that's it. We're gonna talk about this now. What the hell happened between you two?"

Emily bit her lip. "We were supposed to celebrate our anniversary, but then she forgot. Instead, she went home hours later, drunk. Then we got into this huge fight. Most times I feel like she's just sick of me. Like... she doesn't love me anymore."

"Did she tell you that?"

"No. She doesn't even wanna talk anymore. And honestly, I'm tired of being a doormat at my own home."

"So, is that it? Are you gonna break up with her?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. What do you think I should do?"

"I can't make that decision for you, Em. But one thing's for sure. You have to talk to her before you make one." —

Emily decided that she could no longer run from her responsibilities. She turned on her phone and was immediately greeted by several texts. Some were from James but most were from Becca. Emily sighed, putting the phone in her pocket.

When she arrived at the university, Emily first went to check in on James. As James saw her approach, he stood up with concern in his eyes.

"Em, we were so worried about you. You weren't answering your phone."

"Sorry. Got caught up in something."

"Yeah... I uhh ran into Becca yesterday. She told me you guys got into a fight?"

Emily nodded. "You said that you were assigning me an article to write this week?" Emily asked, changing the subject.

"Right. But you don't have to, I can get someone else to do it."

"No, I want to."

"Okay then. Well, the only article left is about--

James paused to look at a piece of paper and his eyes widened.

"Like I said, you don't have to-"

You snatched the paper from James, suddenly furious.

College Relationships. Great. Just my luck.

"We can change it. I'm sure someone else-"

"It's fine, James. And I don't appreciate you treating me like a fragile piece of glass. I said I'm fine." Emily snapped.

Emily walked away before James had a chance to speak. —

Emily was running with her laptop in her hands with Becca in hot pursuit.

"Come on just a little peek."

Emily giggled as Becca caught up to her hugging her from behind.

"Hey! Why'd you close it?"

"You'll be the first to read it when I'm done, I promise."

"Well, it better be worth it," Becca said as she turned Emily around. She cupped her face and pulled her in for a slow and deep kiss. Emily broke up the kiss and touched her forehead with Becca's.

"It is."

—

Back in Kaitlyn's apartment, Emily stared at the blank screen, thinking of what to write or how to even start.

This is ridiculous.

Emily stood up and grabbed her jacket and strode across the room towards the door

"Em? Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna talk to Becca," Emily said with a determined look on her face. — Emily was walking on the sidewalk towards their apartment when a familiar figure caught her attention. As she turned to look inside a bar, all the time in the world couldn't have prepared her for the hurt that was to follow. Emily grabbed the wall for support as she watched the woman she love kiss someone else.

Read Part 3

[holylulusworld]

Hated Love 3 - Post-wedding apocalypse

Summary: Will your wedding become a dream or a nightmare?

Pairing: Mobster!Dean x Mobster!Daughter!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Ruby

Warnings: angst, love-hate relationship, Dean hates the reader, and she hates him, language, snarky comments, arguments, smut, public sex, unprotected sex, arranged marriage, food play, anal play (not really; does eating pie off a butt count?), implied threesome (mentioned/and implied)

Kink: Foodplay

A/N: Y/F/N = Your father’s name

Catch up here:

Part 1 - Hated Love

Part 2 - Hated Love – The Reckoning

Kinktober 2020

Wedding days should be filled with laughter, cake, white dresses, and people crying as they watch the bride and groom confess their love for each other.

Wedding days shouldn’t be filled with odd noises coming out of the bride’s room right before the ceremony.

“Look at you, filled to your limit,” Dean purrs, holding your body against the wall.

He’s driving wildly into you, not caring anyone who passes your room can hear he broke your fathers’ rule to not see you before the wedding.

“Missed this tight little pussy. Your father is an idiot for believing he can keep me away from my girl.”

“I’m, fuck me, not your girl, Winchester,” your eyes roll back at the way Dean grips your ass to fuck up into you. “Did you forget that I’m your fiancé?”

“Never, sweetheart,” Dean grins, rolling his hips faster. “How could I ever forget I’m allowed to fuck you anytime I want to from now on.”

“Already daydreaming?” you laugh when someone knocks at your door, to tell you that the ceremony will start in ten minutes. “Faster, Dean. I want to cum before I agree to marry your sorry ass.”

Dean tries to fix your dress while you fight with your hair. “The zipper, I think it’s ruined,” you groan at Dean’s words, adding another bobby pin to your hair. “Do you have a clasp pin?”

You would laugh about Dean, even find it adorable he tries to fix your dress but not three rooms away your families wait for you to attend a wedding – your wedding.

“Dean, you can’t use a clasp pin to fix my wedding gown! Why did you have to rip it down my body? Jesus, I swear you’re a kinky bastard,” Dean grins, nodding eagerly whilst his hands creep toward your ass to squeeze it tightly.

“Guys, you should stop doing whatever you are doing and move your asses outside. Y/N’s father is close to starting a war. John is no better. I can tell, I never saw Y/F/N that mad,” Sam calls from outside the room, snickering. “Dean, stuff it back inside and hurry.”

“I ruined her dress,” Dean curses, still fighting with the zipper. “Do you have a safety pin? Or a jacket she can wear?”

“Wait, I’ll ask Ruby. Maybe she can help Y/N out. Just wait here,” you roll your eyes at Dean when he tries to repair your dress with a bobby pin.

“Dean, stop trying,” a deep sigh leaves your lips, realizing this could be a sign. “Maybe we shouldn’t marry. For years we hated each other and now you want to marry me.” Dean has the guts to smirk at your words.

“Oh sweetheart, you are mine and I intend on collecting,” he husks, grabbing the back of your neck to kiss you fiercely. His tongue slips inside your mouth to explore every inch of your wet cavern. “I will not let you slip through my fingers again, Y/N. Now be good, get out of that dress and we will try to fix it.”

“If not,” you grin, sliding your hand over Dean’s chest, “I can still marry you in nothing but my underwear…”

“Perfect, Ruby,” you smile, checking on your wedding gown. “Where did you learn to sew? I never thought you would be the one saving my dress.”

“Let’s say Sam likes to rip my clothes off my body too. I hated that I had to explain why my clothes got ripped open almost every week,” Dean snickers, watching Sam’s cheeks turn pink. “Don’t act all shy now, Winchester.”

“I know you would like to talk about my sex life some more, but we should not wait any longer or Y/N’s father will lose his patience. I think he already checked on his gun,” Sam tries to turn your attention back toward your wedding.

“I guess it’s time for a wedding,” you smirk, holding out your hand for Dean. “Don’t you think I’ll let you out of sight, Winchester. I don’t need a runaway groom.”

“Damn, I forgot my sneakers,” Dean grins, taking your offered hand to squeeze it tightly. “No one will stop me from marrying your cute ass, sweetheart.”

The ceremony is short, honest, and filled with insults. Which means you called Dean a humorless jerk. He called you a frigid bitch. You exchanged rings and swore to each other not to stray.

Whilst John grinned throughout the whole ceremony, even dared to laugh, your father remained stoic. He didn’t like you acted as if the ceremony or rather the whole wedding is a joke to you and Dean.

Your father’s mood didn’t get any better when you insisted that the wedding was perfect to you. Even though you laughed, joked, and threw insults at your husband, it was the wedding you wanted.

The after-party, or as you liked to call it, the desperate people buffet who look for someone to fuck after a wedding, went on until 2 am. Your father grumbled the whole time, not missing John was in a good mood.

When the last guest finally left the ballroom you kicked your shoes off, grabbed the last piece of cake, and pushed it into Dean’s face.You laughed your ass off, he wasn’t amused.

That’s how you ended up, bend over the table with the cake, hands tied tightly behind your back with Dean’s tie whilst your husband smears the cake all over your ass.

“You should see your ass, baby. Ready to get eaten,” you gasp, feeling his teeth sink into your left cheek to leave an angry bite mark. “What will your daddy say when I send him a copy of the video?”

“He’ll believe I married a kinky bastard who likes to smear cake onto my butt,” you giggle, feeling his fingers slide through your folds. “No cake on my pussy or you’ll lose your dick.”

“Shhh…, sweetheart,” Dean smirks, licking more cake off your ass, moaning as you press your butt into his face. “I’d like to take your ass.”

“No,” you grit out when Dean’s teeth leave another mark on your right cheek. “Not now, Dean. I want you to fuck me on that table. Give me the perfect ending.”

“Babe, you’ll get anything you want but I already chased you through the ballroom. We had a food fight and now I’m going to fuck the life out of you,” Dean smirks, feeling wetness coat his fingers.

“I want your dick, Winchester. Give it to me,” you complain. “I’m your wife, fulfill your duty,” laughing at your words Dean gets up to slowly unzip his pants. His dick slaps against your ass and you whine feeling Dean step away from the table to take another picture.

“I must admit I never imagined our wedding like this,” Dean is back on you. This time he slightly lifts your butt to slide into you with one forceful snap of his hips.

“Dean,” you cry out, walls clenching tightly around his thick cock. “Fuck me, please.”

“Love it when you beg me, Y/N,” if not for the pressure he builds in your core with every sloppy thrust, you would gladly slap his face. “Love it, even more, when you moan my name.”

“Dean, fuck,” one hand cups the back of your neck to hold you forcefully down, the other grips the edge of the table. Dean speeds up, ignores his phone started to ring moments ago. “Dean, the phone.”

“Later, sweetheart,” his moans turn louder, and you swear, it’s the most erotic sound you ever heard. You don’t know how the sex feels to Dean but the way he calls out your name gives away he enjoys it as much as you do.

“It won’t stop ringing,” he’s angrily grasping for the phone, to yell at anyone who dared to disturb him. “Dean…”

“Shit give me just a minute,” you feel the knot tightening, ready to snap anytime when Dean speeds up once again. “I need to tell you something,” he pants, dropping the phone onto the table. “I guess you’ll not like it.”

“Make me cum and we can talk about anything, Dean,” falling hard you rest your head onto the table. “Come on, Winchester. Give it to me good.”

Dean groans at your words, not needing more encouragement to fill you with his sticky cum. He’s fast to pull out.

“Promise me to not get mad.” You cock a brow when Dean removes the tie, offering you a sly smile.

“What did you do, Winchester?” He’s grinning cheekily whilst he hands you his jacket to cover your modesty. “Dean?”

“You see…erm-uh,” he coughs, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you remember Vegas a few years ago?”

“Vague. I know we woke in a bed…with Sam,” you hum, closing your eyes. “I think it was a hot mess back then. Why do you bring Sammy up?”

“Well, it’s kinda – whew, there is no good way to tell you,” eyes narrowed you fist Dean’s shirt to bring him to your eye level.

“Jesus, tell me what’s wrong. I’m freaking tired and want to drive home, maybe smear more cake onto my husband and lick it off,” Dean huffs, glancing at you. “Dean, you are scaring me.”

“Okay…let me tell you what happened in Vegas didn’t stay in Vegas. Somehow, and I don’t know how it happened, you did not only fuck me and Sammy, but you also married my brother. The marriage never got anulled, and this means you are still married to my brother,” Dean gasps for air when he finally stops talking. “Sorry.”

“What the…?” you blink a few times. “Wait…what? I’m married to Sam?” Dean nods, not missing the dirty grin on your lips. “Does this mean I can have both of you? I always dreamed of having a harem…”

Dean’s jaw drops when you grasp for his phone to send the video he made to Sam.

“Ruby said he can go to hell. I think my baby brother is lonely and heartbroken. Sammy is at your daddy’s house. Imagine, having us both in your room for daddy to hear…” Dean can barely end his line before you drag him out of the ballroom.

“This is the best wedding ever…”

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[bao3bei4]

kpop music videos that gave their fans sexual brainworms

OR accidental fetish pop and its fringe fanbase: meditations on gendered desire 

large warning here: i am someone who has been into kpop for the past 10 years. however, i have always been an extremely casual fan. i do write fic, but not rpf. if any of that makes you not want to hear me talk about kpop rpf (or you don’t want to hear about it in general), please keep moving.

anyway, obviously pop is corporate, soulless, and manufactured. but sometimes some truly bizarre shit gets past the committees and destroys a generation. these are their stories.

the video that started this is all is got7’s just right, released july 10th, 2015.

yes that’s all 7 members of got7 (one is out of frame) shrunken down for your viewing pleasure. they live in your room and tell you you’re just right. 

this sheer fetish power of this video is nerfed only by how utterly sexless it is.

they’re styled like and dance like this. it’s a totally unironic sendup of the seminal work that preceded it by four years, “what makes you beautiful” by the white kpop group “one direction.” the chaste energy of the whole thing makes you legitimately wonder if the good people at jyp have just never heard of microphilia. (during a dramatic reading of this piece, here a friend interjected seriously, “i think it’s korean culture not to talk about things like this, fetishes in the workplace.”)

it’s for the best, honestly, though because the actress in the music video is lee ja in, who was 11 when the video was shot. considering that the members themselves ranged in age from 18-23 at the time, i think it’s actually very impressive that we only have to cancel one. 

you receive absolutely no prizes for guessing that it’s jackson wang we’re sending to social justice prison. why’d he do this? no one asked. 

at any rate, got7 fans, or “gans” (they actually call themselves igot7s which is too twee for me), have much to think about here: all 7 very small members of got7 sneaking into their room, possibly weird age play, and jackson wang eating a very large cake.

let’s see what they actually did. 

twitter was actually very tame. the most charged thing i found was (unsurprisingly) from a bts fan (“ban”). i don’t actually know what it means, but i think it means something.

so, of course, i turned to the internet’s last bastion of free speech, where you can say whatever the fuck you want and receive cheers, or as the kids say, “kudos.” that is, i read fanfiction. 

for those of you who don’t know your herstory, i started my journey at Asianfanfics.com, where, at the time of writing, there were 12,067 got7 stories. i want to start this by saying that i think feminism won, because someone was paying real human dollars to advertise their irene/wendy fanfiction on a banner ad, which is quite possibly a win for women for everywhere. 

anyway, Asianfanfics.com’s search engine sucks ass (i kept on finding stories about different combinations of bts members worrying about their weight and being reassured by another member that were entitled “just right”), so i decided to look through all got7 stories written between july 2015 and december 2015. 

but, alas, not a single got7 microphilia fic to be found. 

also, some genre commentary while i’m here: i think the stories i respect the most are the “[y/n] is a ordinary girl who’s assigned to be got7’s manager! can she make them into superstars? as sparks begin to fly, can she keep it professional?” like fuck yeah that sounds like a kickass dating sim. it almost definitely already is one. i salute all the teens around the world for buying into the fantasy of dating a boy band member that they themselves sell you. 

however, i don’t think i respect the “[member a] and [member b] are mafia/jocks and nerds/college students/high schoolers” concepts. in my opinion, the whole fantasy of boy band member is their personas, their hidden real personalities, their celebrity, and the show business setting. find a different intellectual property if you wanna write about school. i even respect the “yugyeom drank girl juice [not estrogen] and turned into a sexy girl” story more, because at least it knows exactly what it wants, and also because they’re all still boy band members. well, band members. shout out to yugyeom. 

so, anyway, i looked elsewhere. at the time of writing, archive of our own only had 11,645 got7 stories, but it does have a better search, so it effectively has more. as an aside, i think it’s so funny, and mildly disorienting at first, that archive of our own separates the “music & bands” section from the “celebrities & real people” section. boy band members aren’t real people. 

the first problem i encountered is that only 20 or so stories were written within a year of just right’s release. absolute cringe gans. don’t you care about your boys? there were zero stories tagged “vore” or “microphilia” either. stories containing the word “tiny” that were rated either “explicit” or “mature” were all normal (“normal”) size fetishization rather than, you know, just right. 

however, i learned my lesson from twitter. i realized that what had happened was that watching this video had created sleeper agents, just waiting for their activation phrase. that activation phrase? bangtan boys. and yeah, lo and behold, there was one! unfortunately (fortunately?) it had nothing to do with got7, let alone just right, so i’m not going to talk about it.  

basically what i learned is that this video may have actually been very normal, and my brain has just been destroyed by being too online at a young age. 

however, there are plenty more videos in this genre. i present to you exo wolf, a banger from may 30th, 2013. i say banger, because in a comedic inversion, it’s actually fucking terrible. 

this video is pretty self-explanatory in terms of why it might induce certain responses. 

let’s get the formalities out of the way. this video, the member who’s getting cancelled is kai. he has braids in this video :/

also skating on thin ice: xiumin and chen. guys what was up with the whole exo-m thing? like, we’re gonna have a cpop subgroup, but it’s going to be part chinese members and part korean members that we’ll give a chinese name? unsurprisingly, the three exo members who have departed from the group are all chinese. they weren’t able to stand the microaggressions probably. but xiumin and chen remain uncancelled as an official chinese apology for five thousand of years of on-and-off invasions of korea. sorry guys that was kinda fucked up. our bad! 

anyway, there are basically three avenues for exo fans to take: 1) humans with wolfish characters (usually wolf pack dynamics, which even wolves themselves don’t fucking use so i think all of you should shut up. the real omega here is your brain), 2) werewolves (duh), and 3) wolves with human characteristics (i.e. standard furry fare). 

exo themselves let all these possibilities exist at the same time, superimposing them over each other, which is very woke and egalitarian of them. let’s see what the people decided. awoo.

Asianfanfics dot com had many stories in this vein. i feel very validated that this time i was able to correctly predict a fetish. that said, briefly returning to my earlier comment regarding alternate universes: it’s intense psychic whiplash reading about these vampires and werewolves, and going okay okay luhan is a vampire this that whatever, and then seeing the actual real performance photos the author attaches at the bottom of each chapter. bro i forgot these were actual people.... it breaks immersion so bad... i’m sorry, i just can’t believe that any of these dancing boys are having weird vampire sex with wings or whatever. 

archive of our own also had many stories in this vein. and i think there are some important difference between the two sites worth talking about. 

first of all, i think the higher engagement rate of archive of our own really enables some of the authors to get super bold. it makes Asianfanfics.com seem a little quaint, actually. like the wordcounts are waaay longer, for one. it’s uncommon for a story hosted on Asianfanfics.com to be more than a few thousand words long (most of them could easily be published in the new yorker), whereas some of these archive of our own people have written full length novels about if the members of exo were werewolves. i guess it’s just intensely demoralizing for the aff.com crew to get, like, three comments per story. 

the second big difference is that i’m noticing more common themes between the ao3 crew’s writing. like stan intertextuality, or plagiarism, or whatever, but they seem to be implicitly engaging with each other’s characterizations, storylines, and tropes. i think it is because they probably all follow each other on twitter. (i have been active on twitter for three weeks now so i am an expert on fanfiction twitter.) 

anyway, like not that i am a particularly big gan (cannot even list all the members), but these people seem to have reached a very specific consensus on how jackson wang, for instance, would react in a variety of situations that really surprises me? if i were to sit down and write a got7 story, i think the fuckboitude, the douchebaggery is a big part of his charm. not to be nationalist or anything, but for god’s sake, he’s from hong kong. but these people have him as very sensitive, lots of protective instincts. not that i understood what anyone on aff.com was doing with his character either, but they did all seem to be doing different things. “kudos” to that, i guess.

but: exo. wolf. i searched the “wolves” tag. this filtered the list down from 33459 stories to 52 stories. and the “wolves” tag was very different from the aff.com “wolf” tag. for the most part, aff.com liked stories where a member was a wolf (usually shapeshifting), feral boy, lots of y/n, lots of y/n dating a feral boy who is secretly a wolf. 

ao3 really, really, really likes alpha/beta/omega stories. sorting by the most popular stories, only five on the first page weren’t a/b/o. and one of them was a cis f!baekhyun story, so i think the intended effect was communicated. anyway, let’s talk about some of the themes. 

first of all, i’m disappointed. today’s bonus cancellation is of ao3 “wolves” writers. why the fuck are you drawing so heavily from european wolves?? there are wolves in asia!! you don’t need to keep giving their packs and ranks weird latin names. i will kill you. i hate italy. korea literally has a native wolf. i hate all of you!!! if you want to write caucasian wolves go watch that dumbass cw show!!!! my god. 

the second theme (the first one was white supremacy) is that no one wants to be a wolf who fucks. i think that we need a sex positivity movement, or something, for omega rights. like, are all of you doing okay? you’re queering misogyny by inventing new genders to oppress. another level to “no one wants to be a wolf...” is the “who fucks” part. there are so many consent issues. and not even in like, a sexy intentional way? in a “i genuinely do not think this author understands how their writing comes off” way. unfortunately i am sensitive to untagged sexual coercion, and there was a lot of that.

at any rate, the aff.com wolves were at peace with being wolves, very self-actualized. the ao3 wolves know that every minute they spend alive on this bitch of an earth is suffering, and also sex.

the third theme is the evolution of y/n. y/n, who, in a startlingly woke move for aff.com, is almost always korean, is a girl main character stumbling into love, boy bands, and wolves (i think it’s because aff.com is oldschool kpop fandom, so therefore heavily asian itself in userbase). but y/n is not the main character in ao3 stories. she is the straight best friend. in what i think is a hilarious move, ao3 authors invert the gay best friend paradigm to give the gay main character a straight girl as best friend. she usually calls him “a gay,” she has lots of thoughts on boys, and she knows his sexuality better than he does and before he does. (sidebar: if all the men are gay, and all the women are straight...)

there’s a really fun twist to this, though, because the main character is always a self-insert in fanfiction. but where older fanfiction like aff.com was at peace with this and literalize it via y/n shenanigans, modern fic writers who haven’t finished distangling their complicated relationship with wanting to be a man who loves other men instead simply imbue their main character with their essence. a little voodoo doll sehun, with a lock of y/n hair. 

this creates a deeply ambivalent relationship with gender in these stories. the main character is usually an omega, but one who resents being an omega. their body and its parts is usually described, if at all, as ostensibly intersex (except more offensively), but in practice, these discourses inscribe a trans body. (nb: i think cis writers approach this in a really fucked up fetishizing way, but i hope by this point we know that that goes without saying) it’s incredibly straightforward to read this, and see the underlying desires and fears in a heady cocktail of unfiltered writing that’s deeply confessional. you know when freud had people say whatever the fuck they wanted and figured they’d eventually free associate into releasing their subconscious into reality? yeah. 

okay, and while we’re on the topic, let’s talk f(x) nu abo, released on may 4th, 2010. 

this is a blitzy, maximalist, amped up dance hit that even has its own applause and cheers built in. it’s so fucking annoying, and i love it. 

this song is on here because the second most popular kpop a/b/o story on ao3 is called “nu abo” except it’s about bts. that’s offensive enough in its own right. write something about f(x) (702 works). when will women win the right to have their own self-lubricating holes.

anyway, even though f(x) is probably innocent in all of this, i’m still cancelling amber liu. 

for queerbaiting. who told her to look like ruby rose but hot? and for what? i’m also cancelling her for racism, but that wasn’t in this video. 

moving on to a double feature: vixx voodoo doll and vixx chained up, released november 19, 2013 and november 9, 2015 respectively. this is because while voodoo doll is more formative, i think the fans who write fanfiction today got into kpop more recently, so we are casting a wide net.

anyway, voodoo doll is jam packed with weird pseudo-medical imagery, blood, vivisection, bondage, puppet shit, femdom, sharps, piercings, asphyxiation, dollification, stabbing/penetration metaphors, and a really sick and catchy dance. god that looks like the list of tags on the a/b/o wolf stories. 

for this song, we’re cancelling you, for being way too into this song when you were 13.

vixx voodoo doll made me goth i guess! insert that pic of the your music saved me sign, except it saved me from getting into emo or pop punk probably. 

chained up, comparatively, is much more tame. the only thing of note about it is that there are around 10 completely different chokers and choker looks the members wear in this music video. also they’re singing about being chained up, but that seemed a bit obvious. 

we could argue that voodoo doll is gay while chained up is gay (derogatory); that voodoo doll is queer while chained up is gay; that chained up is a sensitive masterpiece of omega4omega sexuality. but we’re not going to. 

we’re going to talk about what voodoo doll fanfiction was and was not. first, Aff.com had plenty of it. however, i was extremely disappointed to see that much of it did not hew to the spirit of vixx voodoo doll. my god, the voodoo doll becoming the one preying upon you disgusts me. the fantasy of the voodoo doll is that of absolute power. the idea that the doll itself has agency? instantly breaks the fantasy. i’m even not into voodoo dolls and i’m offended. 

i also don’t think it’s part of the voodoo doll fantasy to release the doll. the only story on there that involved Y/N kidnapping vixx members like in the music video was unavailable because the author deactivated their account. come back qxeen what did you see. 

i think this got off track, actually, in that i was mostly wondering why these people imprinted differently onto vixx voodoo doll than i did. like i don’t think you’re supposed to actually like straightforwardly absorb the morals and aesthetics of music videos like it’s propaganda. however, it’s more entertaining if you do. i hope ao3 doesn’t let me down. 

out of the then 5932 works in the vixx fandom (the least out of every group so far, excluding f(x) because they’re women), 59 of them included the word “voodoo” somewhere. that’s 1%. i legitimately can’t tell if that’s high or not. 

after some more cursory reading through the first page of popular results, my big takeaway is that people watched that video and wanted to be tortured and enslaved? but not, like, in a sexy way where the torturing is the point, the way where the point is to suffer bravely and beautifully, to endure the world’s harms like jesus on the cross, and then to fall into the arms of a beautiful boy who may or may not be the one hurting you in the first place. 

there’s a certain predictability to these fantasies. like it’s not even masochism, which would be fun at least, it’s literally just like the desire to be beautiful, even as you suffer. and i do find that a little boring. (but, i mean, you can’t help being a woman!)

sidebar: on chained up. what’s interesting about chained up, is that most of the then 38 “chained up” works (likely because the video has no storyline) are about the members fucking during chained up promotions. no one’s ever actually chained up, but whatever. it’s fine. it’s fine! 

anyway, here, more than ever, the nature of desire is stripped bare. i’ve written before [elsewhere in the unreleased tshirt cinematic universe] on how kpop boys are, through fandom, re-formed as white, or more strongly, i guess, blank slates. it’s really interesting to me how so much of this dynamic of projection is enabled by the fact that they’re asian men. they’re infantilized, feminized vessels; they’re seductive, but childlike, oblivious to their own charms, so nonthreatening; they have uncontrollable desires for sex, they’re scared of sex. and above all else, white women submit themselves to them, insert themselves into them. basically kpop fans tend to rework old school yellow peril and emasculation fantasies to reenact their own desires, often white, often cishet on them. 

what i am saying is that there’s another thesis about forced feminization and its racialized subtext in here. obviously gender is a racialized construct to begin with, but like it’s fascinating to argue that when white women remake asian men according to their own desires, that is, into themselves, they (hopefully) unintentionally echo these old fears about the sexual order.

it illuminates, it seems, the underlying dynamic in the denigration of asian men, which is of course the fear of miscegenation. now, my breathtaking ability to make everything about me aside, miscegenation is interesting because it presents a racial synthesis, beginning to collapse and trouble the artificial designations of purity. so we make asian men into white women, and end up with an unsettling hybrid. i’m sure this has deep implications for me personally.

but i think we already knew that quite a few of these people had yellow fever, so let’s talk about the gender dialectic at play. basically, the above dynamic, of making men into women (whether literally, in body; or subjectively, in mind; or even relationally, as they are objectified into passive vessels for your desire) coexists with the ostensibly converse dynamic, in which the straight women desires to be a gay man. these aren’t necessarily in conflict: it could easily be that these are different writers writing different stories, that both are ways of expressing discontent with existing in a raced, gendered body, or even that the end product of both is the same.

it’s been a while without a picture. all of you now have the legal right to hunt and kill me for making a d&g joke.

anyway, what i want to talk about is how these two fantasies can coexist. that by making a man into yourself, you can speak on your own desire in a passive way. my normal interest is analyzing forced masc fantasies (albeit in chinese opera lol), and they bear little to no resemblance to this kind of fantasy. this kind offers plausible deniability, of course, because wanting things is embarrassing. but also the fantasy isn’t about wanting to be a man, it’s about having no choice but to be a failed one. the gender pessimism running through these stories is palpable. basically andrea long chu wants what wolf fanfiction writers know: everyone is an omega, and everyone hates it.

at any rate, this racialized dynamic is one that i wasn’t sure how to bring up throughout this piece, mainly because there is no definitive way for me to tell the race of any individual writer, beyond just like the clear and present vibes that i receive. but i think it structures a lot of the fantasies contained in this essay. (i felt more comfortable bringing up the gendered dynamic, because it was fairly trivial to find out the current gender of the person writing each story i was reading.) 

obviously we should return to the specter haunting this conversation: the very much alive david eng. i think this sort of argument is familiar to readers of racial castration, especially his chapter on m. butterfly. btw sorry for mentioning that play 2 out of 3 posts on this blog. i have problems.

let’s talk about the parallel imagery between the depiction of gallimard’s final speech and the fanfiction i’ve described above. in it, gallimard makes himself into his own dream woman, dressing in yellowface and robes, the costume of puccini’s original madame butterfly. and he laments his lost love:

there is a vision of the orient that i have. of slender women in chong sams and kimonos who die for the love of unworthy foreign devils. who are born and raised to be the perfect women. who take whatever punishment we give them, and bounce back, strengthened by love, unconditionally.

in that, i see the self insert, and i see the sufferer of vixx voodoo fic. the fantasy that gallimard has about asian women is repeated, this time about asian men and a helpless identification with them. and on some level, gallimard’s women do have something very compelling to identify with: they suggest that there’s a way to endure white male violence without sacrifice, and even more potently, to enjoy it on some level.

but onward to the titular racial castration. eng argues that gallimard’s wilful ignorance of song’s true gender is a psychic castration -- song’s masculinity is diminished so that his own can be enhanced within their relationship. this, eng believes, acts out “richard fung’s contention that in western imaginary ‘asian and anus are conflated.’” this process stabilizes the relationship between the asian man and the white woman: they occupy the same place within the sexual dyad. 

this is, i think, why some people are addicted to writing from the bottom’s perspective. again -- not implying that irl bottoms don’t exist or that bottoms are psychically castrated lol -- but rather that you can fantasize about this ideal asian man that you can come to embody. in kpop rpf, rather than it being between a white man and an asian man (unless someone’s started writing chad future fic), it’s between two asian men. so this transformation is performed. whiteness is always intruding and so i think eng is helpful here to making it visible again. 

this essay isn’t a callout or actual cancellation or anything like that, i do wanna be clear. i guess i just like talking about fantasies, even the embarrassing ones, and where they come from. i think oftentimes in fandom spaces, we write a lot of stories off as idfic, and i think virtually every single one of the stories i referenced to write this fairly uncontroversially fall into that category. but i think calling something an “id” something or the other naturalizes the satisfaction it gives as purely instinctual and unconscious, when i do think there are deeper narratives at play. while i didn’t ever actually reference the base here (sorry), i do think it’s worth talking about how real world power shapes & maintains the superstructure, and thereby our fantasies. 

anyway in conclusion, maybe i was the one with sexual brainworms the whole time.

[ye4gerismarchives]

the bachelorette chp 2 final part

an: sorry for taking so long! here's the masterlist!

tags: black reader, fem coded reader, lots of drama, minor vulgar name calling

tag list: @taybird

The first thing on your mind when you woke up was Bertie's kiss. It was so unexpected but so sweet. You almost forgot about Mikasa possibly stealing a guy you didn't really know. That's how nice Bertholdt's kiss was.

This morning you were having breakfast with Mikasa and Sasha, as usual. You knew this time was going to be different, however. You got ready for the day, thinking about what to expect from today's breakfast.

"So, I heard Bertholdt came out of his shell...oooh," Connie teased. As expected, Bertholdt's face reddened. The rest of the guys turned their attention to Bertholdt, curious about what he had done. "What happened, Bertholdt?" Porco asked. He was sitting near Bertholdt, so he was leaning into the taller boy's personal space. "N-nothing," Bertholdt says, looking away.

"A little BERTIE told me that you kissed y/n," Connie continues. "Connie, you're so corny," Onyankopon says jokingly. "You kissed?" Porco is now all up in Bertholdt's face. "Now, why would you do that? We're two weeks into the competition and you're kissing?"

"Hey, Porco, calm down," Eren jumps in. "Nah, because Bertie thinks he can just jump ahead. I mean, Eren, have you gotten a chance to be with y/n?" Porco huffed.

"He's too busy making out with Mikasa, y/n's best friend, he's probably not the best person to ask," Jean jeered.

"You shouldn't say anything at all, Jean. She has you wrapped around her finger. You're her pet dog," Eren snapped back.

"Isn't that the whole point? We're all supposed to give y/n our attention and seem interested in her," Armin jumps in.

His response shocks everyone the most. "So...you're not genuinely here for her?" Connie asked. His funny demeanor drops. "No...I need the money for medical school," Armin admits. "Nothing about y/n impresses me."

"Let's read what people are saying online!"

Levi had let you, Sasha, and Mikasa know that people had a lot to say about the show so far. He gifted you all a phone to take a look at during breakfast.

"Ok...so this first one is about Jean," Sasha starts. " 'Jean likes money...hence why he's here. He also has a short attention span in relationships."

"That...that doesn't sound like Jean..." you say. Unless?? Jean was a nice guy...a "nice guy". You couldn't believe it was all an act. He seemed like a sweet guy but that could also be a façade. "Ok...that one makes my brain hurt. Next please!"

Sasha passes the phone to Mikasa, who doesn't seem like she was there. "Mikasa, the phone," you point out. She jumps slightly, which is very not Mikasa-like. "Sorry," she says softly before taking the phone. You want to ask her what's up but, one, you have your own assumptions and, two, you didn't want something new to blow up in your face.

"Levi and Mikasa are planning on going against y/n. Their uncle/niece relationship says a lot. Mikasa needs to hop off the guys and let y/n have her moment."

Now, that one you could believe. Maybe not the part about Levi (he didn't seem to care) but you did feel that Mikasa was trying to interfere. You did laugh with her about her attraction to Jean and Eren but you couldn't help but consider that she could be plotting against you. The only role Levi would have in this is green-lighting her attempts. His job was to guide you and keep the drama going. He would have alerted you that something big was going to happen.

"That's kinda silly. You and Levi wouldn't pull something like that, right?" you nervously ask. Mikasa is quick to look you in the eye. "No, I wouldn't try that."

'No, I wouldn't try that.'

"Thanks for calming my suspicions," you reply. Mikasa's eyes widened. "What are you getting-"

"Can you hand me the phone, Mikasa?"

Mikasa moves her arm across Sasha and forces it in your direction. You've clearly hit a nerve. You snatch the device from her. "Thanks."

You read the next opinion. "'I'm on the edge about Jean and Eren'."

This was the second message about Jean and you couldn't help but be concerned. You would need to have a one on one conversation with him to make sure his intentions are right.

You weren't too surprised about the comment about Eren. However, You wanted to talk to him too.

"Well, Mikasa, it was nice seeing you. I'm sure you had a lot of fun last night. Get some more rest while Sasha and I go out. Alright?" you finally say.

Mikasa doesn't meet your eye.

(pick your fit!)

You hoped that this date would clear your mind and even give you some people to eliminate. You were excited about this date. You were going skating. It'd be more interactive and you wouldn't have to rely on subtle messages.

You and Sasha entered the same room where you met your previous dates. Today, you had Onyankopon, Armin, Nicolo, and Porco.

To your surprise, the energy in the room seemed off too. "Hi, y/n!" Onyankopon said cheerfully. There was a shaky feeling in his voice. Almost like he was nervous. Onyankopon was never nervous around you. He could easily walk up to you and you would converse for hours.

"Hey guys," you soon reply. Armin doesn't seem interested at all, Nicolo looks like he's in space, and Porco has an angry look in his eyes and can barely meet yours.

Suddenly, you don't even want to go on this date.

"Hey, what's going on? Why are you guys so...gloomy?" you ask. Porco finally looks up. "You know what's wrong? We're competing for a whore."

You felt like someone had just pulled your lungs on your chest. Did he just call you a whore?

"Hey!" Onyankopon barked. "You don't call her that!" You were taken back by Onyankopon coming to your defense. You had never seen him like this.

"Honestly, I'm so disappointed. I can't believe I have to go on a date with you guys! You're so ignorant. Armin, honestly, I can't believe you. You don't even want y/n. You're here to pay your bills off. And Nicolo? Why are you even here? We don't even see you around. And Porco, I don't even have to say anything to you. I think we all know what type of person you are."

The room remained silent for a moment. Your eyes began to water. You were overwhelmed. "I-I'm sorry. I need to step out." You turn on your foot and ignore Sasha's pleas to come back.

It was only the second week and there was so much going on. You understood that drama was key but this was too damn much.

"Oof-."

"Oh! I'm sorry- are you crying?"

You had bumped into someone. When you see who it is, your eyes widen. "Eren...what...no." You place your hands on your cheeks. You were crying. "Aren't you supposed to be on a date? Who made you cry?" Eren's tone became more hostile. You never thought you'd see him like this. "Eren, don't worry about it. I'm fine," you reassure him. Before Eren can open his mouth, you walk around him. You really wanted to find Levi. You knew who you wanted to eliminate.

Today's elimination was different. You were doing this out of anger. Eliminations were being held outside, where a limo was waiting to pick the next three guys up. You were also running elimination. Levi was just tap dancing in the back because yay drama.

"I'm so disappointed," you start. Only a few of the guys could make eye contact with you. "First, I wake up suspecting that one of you is in love with one of my friends.

Eren squirms slightly.

"And two guys aren't even interested in me. One of them is here to 'pay their bills' and the other is doing god knows what.

You look at Porco.

"Finally, I learn that I'm a whore apparently. Thank you, Porco, I'm so glad that you said what you said. You made eliminations very easy. We didn't even have to go on a date. Get your stuff and get out. The same goes for you too, Armin and Nicolo."

The boys don't even turn their heads to look at the three mentioned. Armin, Nicolo, and Porco go inside to grab their stuff. They don't look at anyone either.

"Don't even ask me about the roses. None of y'all are getting anything. None of you are getting the last laugh. Do better," you say before following your recently eliminated inside.

(SPACER I MET THE LIMIT)

CONFESSTIONALS

connie: i had such a great time with y/n. it's such a shame that a few of us pissed her off today.

bertholdt: i regret kissing y/n now. there's nothing wrong with her but see how much drama a kiss caused? i don't even know how connie found out.

armin: i do have my regrets. i didn't know that y/n was going to get that mad.

nicolo: no comment.

porco: oh no, stay out of my business. i'm not answering any questions.

(SPACER)

yeah, that was a lot. anyways, here's the elimination link. i’ll see y'all when I see y'all :)