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bellaxgiornata · 8 months

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Neighbors [Chapter 1]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.6k

[Series Chapter List and Summary]

Warnings/tags: 18+; contains friends to lovers, violence, fluff, eventual smut, angst

a/n: Finally chapter one is here after that initial prologue! And so is Frank in this part! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mycobrakai1972 @stilllivindue2spite @luvr-bunnyy @pone21

Keeping your hand steady, you continued to write out the new seasonal menu on the chalkboard hanging by the coffee shop's register. Every beginning of the month you'd change the specialty lattes over to some different flavor combinations that you'd come up with which you felt were fitting for that time of year, and this morning it was time for that list to change.

You had been focused on what you were doing for the past fifteen minutes now, teeth biting down on your lip in concentration, until a noise coming from the back of the coffee shop caught your ear. Your hand momentarily paused on the ‘B’ you'd been trying to write as you attempted to decipher the sound, beginning to feel slightly on edge. Despite the fact that your shop was bright and airy inside, full of natural light from the large shop windows that allowed for the varying plants you had everywhere to thrive, you always found yourself a little nervous when you were here alone. It was always a fear of yours that something would happen–even if this was generally a friendly small town.

Turning your head, you focused on the door that led to the backroom as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. Your hand tightened around the bit of chalk you were holding, your body tensing. Seconds later you spotted Allison making her way through the doorway. Quickly relaxing at the sight of her, you felt ridiculous for having been on edge thinking it could've been anyone else.

Of course it was just Allison, you told yourself. She was on the schedule to open today.

She sent you a smile when she saw you standing in front of the chalkboard. “Good morning, boss!” she greeted you.

“Morning, Aly,” you replied, attention returning back to the chalkboard. “Do you mind unlocking the front door so I can finish working on this?”

“Already on it!” she replied.

She made her way around the counter, grabbing your keyring from off of the top of it as she passed by. You heard her make her way over to the front door and stick the key into the lock as you finished up the second line on the seasonal menu. You lowered your hand, taking a step back and eyeing your handiwork, trying to see if the lettering looked even enough by your perfectionist standards.

“So I went on that date last night,” Allison told you.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, head turning to the side as your eyes narrowed at the spacing of a few words. “How'd the second date go?”

Allison placed the keys back onto the counter near you before she made her way back around it. With a sigh you finally figured the second line looked perfect enough and you began to focus on starting the third line.

“Awful,” she told you. “I don't think I've endured so many awkward silences in my life. I mean, it's like he lost the ability to make small talk entirely this time!”

“Maybe he was just nervous?” you told her, focused on the ‘L’ you had begun writing. “You are a big personality after all.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Allison grab an apron from off the back wall and throw it on. Chewing on your bottom lip again, you tried to perfectly space out the next letter with the lines already written above this one. If anything was just slightly off, you knew it would bother you all month long.

“Yeah, maybe,” Allison said with a sigh, coming to rest her forearms onto the countertop near you. “But I like my men bold and outgoing, you know that.”

You laughed lightly, nodding your head. “That I certainly do,” you agreed. “But maybe someone more subdued could ground you sometimes. Never hurts to give people a chance.”

“Speaking of giving people a chance,” Allison began, the tone of her voice causing you to stop writing and shoot her a side-eye, “when are you going to let someone take you out on a date?”

“Never,” you told her, focusing back on the chalkboard. “I like my men nonexistent. I don't have time to date, you know that, Aly. Besides, there's not a decent option in this town near my age who's still single and doesn't slog it up at The Crooked Antler most nights.”

“You do know there's a thing called the internet, right?” she asked. “That's what dating apps are for.”

“Dating apps are mostly for hook-ups, Aly,” you pointed out, focused on spelling out the word ‘lavender.’ “I'm not looking for that. Or anything. I'm busy enough with the shop and Lily right now.”

“Okay,” Allison said, drawing the word out suspiciously. “But what if you happened to meet a guy in person? Could there be someone who might change your mind?”

“Considering I don't leave this town hardly ever and I've already said there's not many prospects here,” you replied, “I find that highly unlikely.”

Out of your peripheral you saw Allison shrug, her attention fixed on the front of the shop. You continued to work on the third line of the chalkboard, knowing full well Lily would want to decorate it this morning when you finished with it.

“Well what if a really hot guy just walked into Common Grounds looking like a tree that needed to be climbed?” Allison asked casually. “Like a really, really hot guy?”

Your eyes narrowed at her, your hand hovering over the ‘E’ you'd just written. “I'd say that'd never happen and sounds like its bordering on inappropriate work talk.”

Aly rolled her eyes at you. “Only because you don't like to talk about your love life,” she said.

“Because it's not up for discussion,” you stated, turning back to the chalkboard.

“If you say so,” she sing-songed under her breath.

Beginning to draw out the ‘R’, you heard the door to the shop open behind you. You half-expected to hear Lily’s excited voice greet you along with the cold blast of wind from the early spring morning, but instead you heard heavy footsteps making their way over to the register.

“Good morning and welcome to Common Grounds!” Aly cheerfully greeted the customer. “What can I get you today?”

“Just a large coffee,” a deep voice rumbled out. “Black.”

Finishing the letter you were working on, you couldn’t resist glancing over your shoulder at the man standing in front of the register. He was broad-shouldered under the black jacket he was wearing, his presence easily commanding the space he was in. He stood with almost perfect posture as he focused on swiping his card through the reader once Aly had read off his total.

The slight head gesture Aly was making at the man when he wasn't looking caught your eye and your attention shifted over at her. She mouthed out ‘he's hot, get his number’ to you and you immediately shot her a pointed glare in return, shaking your head. Aly abruptly straightened back up, plastering a smile onto her face as if nothing had happened when the man looked up at her, sliding his card back into his wallet.

“Your coffee will be ready in just a minute,” she told him.

You watched as Aly turned around, beginning to work on making the man's black coffee. For a moment you stood there, silently eyeing him as he waited patiently for his drink. You had to admit, Aly was right. He was attractive. He had a chiseled profile with a prominent nose, and thick dark hair on his head that you wouldn't mind running your fingers through. A bit of dark stubble covered his jaw, accentuating his cheekbones. He even looked well-built beneath his jacket as he stood with his hands clasped at his waist in front of himself. But the more you observed him, the more you were positive that you'd never seen him in town before. Before you could stop yourself, the question was already leaving your mouth.

“I haven't seen you in here before, are you just passing through or visiting?” you asked.

The man's full attention shifted to you at the sound of your voice. There was a faint scowl on his lips, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he briefly looked you over. A sudden self-consciousness washed over you under his gaze and the surly, unfriendly expression on his face.

“Neither,” he answered gruffly.

“I just say that because I'm usually great with remembering faces and coffee orders,” you continued, hoping to ease the awkwardness with a friendly smile, “and I don't recognize either with you.”

“Look, I'll be honest ma'am,” the man said, that dour expression never changing, “I’m not one for small talk. It's been a long week and I got a long day ahead of me. I just want some coffee.”

He took a couple of steps farther down to the end of the counter, turning his back slightly towards you and abruptly ending the conversation. Your eyes widened in disbelief at his rudeness, your eyebrows rising up onto your forehead. That wasn't common in this small town.

Shaking your head at his back, you were about to return to your chalkboard menu when the door to your left once again opened. The sight of Lily beaming at you as she dragged your brother into the coffee shop had a smile instantly returning to your face.

“Good morning, Nini!” Lily happily greeted you.

“Morning, coffee bean,” you greeted her back. “You ready to help me here this morning?”

Her index finger landed on her chin, tapping it lightly as she glanced up towards the ceiling as she often did when pretending to be in thought. A smile tugged at your lips as you exchanged a look with your brother. You both knew what was coming next–a pastry request.

“If I help, can I get a cinnamon sugar scone?” she asked, her eyes going wide and doe-eyed as they landed back on you.

“Of course, coffee bean,” you answered, taking a step forward and reaching a hand out to ruffle her hair.

She giggled, beaming back up at you. Just as you were about to say something more to her, the man who'd been rude to you made his way towards the three of you congregating near the door, his large coffee in his hand. Your mouth closed again, your lips instantly thinning into a straight line along your face at the sight of him and that still grumpy expression.

“‘S'cuse me,” he muttered, head ducking down.

He slipped past the three of you, accidentally bumping into your shoulder as he headed towards the door. Your eyes narrowed at his back, watching as he made his way out of the shop and down the sidewalk.

“Who was that?” Jaime asked curiously, a thumb gesturing over his shoulder. “He doesn't look like one of your usuals. Never seen him around here before.”

Your attention returned to your brother as you shook your head. “Don't know,” you answered. “But he sure was grumpy. Anyway,” you continued, not wishing to spend anymore thought on the stranger's rudeness, “I'll drop her back home at half-past five tonight? As usual?”

Your brother's eyes darted down to his feet, his hands slipping into his jacket pockets. He suddenly looked almost nervous.

“Is it possible you could watch her until eight?” he asked. “I've uh, pulled some strings and got some extra time at work tonight.”

Your head tilted to the side, brows knitting together. “At the Antler?”

“No uh, at work,” he answered, his eyes still avoiding yours as a hand slipped out of his pocket, awkwardly running over the back of his neck. “There's a project that is being rushed and my boss was accepting a few volunteers to work more hours to help speed things up.”

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, curious as to why he was acting so strange about this. “I can drop her off by eight. Maybe we can order pizza for dinner,” you said, glancing down and shooting Lily a wink.

At the mention of pizza, Lily instantly perked up. She began bouncing up and down as she clutched her stuffed husky to her chest. You smiled, your mood instantly lifted by her presence.

“Thanks, sis,” Jamie murmured. “You don't know how much I appreciate your help.”

You waved him off with a dismissive hand. “Don't worry about it, we're family,” you told him. “And I love having my little coffee bean helping me keep things running smoothly here.”

Jaime nodded, shooting you an almost sheepish smile before he turned and knelt down towards your niece. The pair of them exchanged their usual goodbyes along with a hug before Jaime made his way out of the coffee shop without another word. You watched him leave for a moment as he headed back towards his car, still curious as to why he’d seemed so off this morning.

“So, Lily,” you began, eventually tearing your eyes away from your brother and focusing back on your niece, “why don’t you go fill that watering can in my office while I finish this sign? And then after you’ve finished watering the plants I can grab you that scone to enjoy. By the time you’re done with that I should have this month’s menu written out and you can decorate it. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, yes!” she exclaimed, excitement shining in her eyes. “I’m going to draw butterflies and bunnies and flowers on it!”

Grinning, you gestured your head towards the back door of the coffee shop. “Sounds perfect, coffee bean. Why don’t you get started with that watering can?”

Without being told twice, she darted off through the coffee shop and around the counter, disappearing through the doorway and down the hall towards the back office. Allison was smiling after her, pointing a finger in the direction she’d disappeared.

“If only someone could bottle up that energy and brew it into a coffee,” Allison joked. “I’d like five of those.”

“You and me both,” you agreed.

Heading back to the chalkboard, you tried to focus on finishing it, but you could feel Allison’s eyes on you. With a sigh you turned towards her, an eyebrow shooting up questioningly.

“What?” you asked her.

“That guy might’ve been hot, but his attitude?” she said, shaking her head and making a face. “Wow. I was not expecting that. Definitely no longer Allison-approved for you.”

You shot her a cheeky smile as you teased, “Especially because he despises small talk so much?”

Allison laughed, shaking her head. “Yes, that too. I guess it’s true when they say looks aren’t everything.”

“No, they certainly are not,” you agreed with a sigh.

Once more focusing back on the chalkboard, you began to start on the final line. You wanted it finished before the usual morning rush appeared in a few minutes. But as you were drawing an ‘R’ on the board, you heard Allison speak again and the comment she made had you botching the letter.

“Bet he’s still good in bed, though,” she said, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your face heated as a brief mental image of that man in a more intimate setting flashed through your mind, but you quickly tried to push it away. It had been far too long since you’d last been with someone and you didn’t need to start thinking about that right now.

“Alright, Aly,” you lightly scolded her. “Lily is just down the hall. Let’s keep it PG for now, alright?”

“You got it, boss,” she answered.

But you didn’t miss the tone of her voice that told you she’d noticed your reaction to her comment. Clearing your throat, you focused twice as hard on your chalkboard in silence.

Hanging up the call on your cell phone, you set it down on the small kitchen island. “So Lily,” you called out, turning around and making your way out of the kitchen and back towards the living room. “I just finished ordering us a large pepperoni pizza from Francisco’s and–”

You stopped dead in your tracks as you entered the living room at the sight before you. Both Lily and your dog Penny were perched at the front window, faces pressed to the glass and looking out of it. Presumably the pair of them were once again staring at the neighbor’s driveway–something you'd scolded her for doing a few times already now.

“Lily, what do you think you’re doing?” you asked her, arms crossing over your chest.

Both her and Penny looked back at you simultaneously. The sight was almost laughable with how much of a pair they always made together, especially with the matching looks of guilt on their faces. You fought to keep a fairly stern expression on your own face at the sight because she’d been trying to watch the neighbor all evening ever since his truck had pulled up and she had told you that he'd been unloading it. The only way you managed to pull her away from the window for any length of time earlier was when you told her she could plate the cookies she’d made for him. Which of course turned into her picking out a leftover plate from Valentine’s Day, one that you’d used when the pair of you had baked heart cookies and handed them out to neighbors and friends the other month. You'd reluctantly helped her plate them, your embarrassment at the prospect of dropping the cookies off only growing with her plating choice. But at least she was coming with you, because there was absolutely no way in hell you’d have delivered them yourself.

“Seeing if he’s done unpacking,” Lily answered guilty. “So that we can go give him the cookies.”

“Lily, you can’t be staring at people outside,” you told her. “It’s rude and people don’t like that. Don’t be a nosey Nancy.”

“But he just grabbed the last box!” she whined, turning around towards you. “Can’t we go give him the cookies now, please ?”

Sighing, you glanced down at the watch on your wrist. It was getting late now that it was nearing six. Any later and it would be incredibly rude to go knocking on his door to drop off cookies. And if it was the last box that he’d taken out from his truck, you hopefully wouldn’t be interrupting him too much, but maybe you’d have an excuse to hand him the cookies, welcome him to the neighborhood, and then run away back to your place and hide from his reaction since he’d need to finish unpacking.

“Alright,” you relented with a sigh. “We can go drop off the cookies.”

Lily let out a shriek of excitement before she bolted past you, tossing her stuffed husky onto the coffee table as she raced to the kitchen. Penny darted excitedly after her, her nails clacking across the wood laminate floors as she went. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you made your way over to the entry closet, pulling out shoes for you and Lily.

When you turned around, you saw her carefully carrying the plate of cookies in both of her hands out of the kitchen, the vibrant pink and red heart pattern on the plate impossible to miss even with the plastic wrap holding the very pink and sprinkle-covered cookies in place. Internally you cringed, but the look of pride on your niece’s face had you smiling back at her instead. Because admittedly it was a very sweet gesture she’d thought of all on her own. Even if you still wished she’d just wanted to make regular chocolate chip cookies for the man instead.

It took the pair of you a couple of minutes to get your shoes on before you stepped outside onto the small front porch you shared with your neighbor. Lily walked a step ahead of you, proudly carrying the plate of cookies in her hands down the short distance between you and your neighbor’s front doors as the light waned outside. The sun was near setting behind the row of houses across the street now and it wouldn't be long before it was completely dark outside.

Inhaling a deep breath in as the pair of you came to a stop in front of the neighbor’s front door, you reached a hand out and knocked firmly three times against it. You kept internally hoping this man wasn’t about to make some sort of asshole-ish comment to your niece about the cookies, desperately hoping he was as polite and gentlemanly as Cora had made him sound. But a few moments later when the door unlocked and swung open, your eyes grew wide and the smile completely fell from your face. It felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs at the sight of the rude man from Common Grounds this morning standing before you. The very same one who’d refused to make small talk and then bumped into you on his way out. All your hopes of him being friendly and polite to your niece immediately disappeared, leaving you with nothing but a sinking feeling of dread.

The scowl you remembered from this morning was still on his face as his gaze landed on you first, his eyes narrowing just a fraction in something like suspicion as he scanned your face. You were still trying to figure out what the hell to say to him when Lily finally spoke up.

“Look, Nini!” she exclaimed, finally catching the man’s attention, “it’s the grumpy man from the coffee shop!”

You swore your heart stopped beating in your chest, embarrassment flooding you completely. Slowly the man’s eyes returned to you, one of his dark brows raising up onto his forehead. Swallowing hard, you’d never wished you could disappear into thin air more in your life than right now.

“Grumpy man, huh?” he asked.

An awkward laugh slipped out of you, a nervous smile sliding onto your face. “I suppose we’re all a little grumpy before our caffeine,” you awkwardly replied. Clearing your throat as his hardened stare only grew your discomfort, you quickly pressed on. “Look, we didn’t mean to disturb you, we just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” Pointing to yourself, you gave him your name in a rush before gently placing a hand atop Lily’s head. “And this is my niece, Lily. She’s often with me and she was the one who wanted to bake you cookies when she heard I was getting a new neighbor. So we just–just came by to drop those off real quick.”

The man’s expression shifted slightly as he focused back down on Lily at your side. An emotion crossed his face so fast that you almost didn’t catch it, but you had. Curiously you noted he'd briefly looked pained, but then the unthinkable happened–he smiled .

“Well is that right?” he asked, crouching down to your niece’s height. “You made me cookies, sweetheart?”

“Yes, they’re heart cookies,” she told him, holding the plate out towards him. “Because heart cookies make me happy, so I thought they’d make you happy. Nini and I made them yesterday.”

He reached out, accepting the plate of cookies from her little hands so gently while the smile only widened on his mouth. As you watched the surprising interaction play out, you had to actively make sure your jaw hadn’t dropped onto the front porch floor. Because whatever you’d been expecting him to do or say in reaction to receiving those cookies had most certainly not been this.

“Did you pick out the pink frosting?” he asked her, examining the cookies.

“Yep!” Lily answered proudly. “Pink is my favorite color! And so is purple and green.”

The man glanced up from the plate in his hands at your niece, a genuine smile still on his face as he nodded. “Well those are good colors, but I think you chose well with the pink,” he told her. “And I like the sprinkles.”

“Thank you!” Lily said, beaming and twirling a little back and forth in excitement before him. “So what’s your name?”

He chuckled lightly at her enthusiasm, his focus solely on her. The unexpected and pleasant deep sound of it warmed you, especially with the sweet way he continued interacting with your niece.

“My name is Frank,” he told her.

Lily nodded her head, still smiling her heartwarming smile at the man. The look on his face had you realizing maybe you’d completely misjudged him this morning, though you worried he wasn’t going to like you much after Lily’s initial comment about his grumpiness. Hopefully that wouldn’t make things strained between the pair of you, especially with being neighbors.

“It’s nice to meet you, Frank!” she chirped.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, too, Lily,” he told her. Gesturing his head towards the plate of cookies in his hands he added, “Thank you for these. Been awhile since anyone’s brought me baked goods.”

Lily’s eyes lit up at his words, a surprised gasp leaving her. “Well in that case,” she began, her excitement somehow increasing further, “maybe we can make you brownies next! And Nini makes the best cinnamon rolls!”

“Hey, coffee bean?” you said, quickly cutting in.

She looked up at you, all innocent eyes and bright smiles. You sent her a tense smile in return, ignoring the way Frank’s gaze falling back on you was beginning to make you feel multiple confusing things all at once.

“Maybe we should let Frank get back to unpacking and settling in, yeah?” you suggested. “He just moved in, remember?”

The expression on her face slightly fell at your words, but she nodded slowly. In the doorway, Frank began to rise back up to his full, intimidating height. Swallowing nervously, you focused back on him, sending the tense smile on your face his way.

“Sorry to have bothered you this evening, I'm sure you're busy,” you told him. “But welcome to the neighborhood. I’m uh, just next door if you ever need anything.”

He nodded his head curtly in reply, muttering out a quiet ‘thank you.’ You gently nudged Lily’s shoulder with a hand, attempting to direct her back towards your duplex with you. But as you turned and began to make your way back home, you overheard Lily speak up one last time.

“You know,” her little voice said, “you really aren’t so grumpy after all.”

Your eyes snapped shut as you sucked in a sharp breath, momentarily pausing mid-step. Why did kids always have to say whatever was on their mind?

“No,” he agreed with a soft chuckle, “no, sweetheart, I’m not. Thank you again for the cookies and I hope you ladies have a good night now.”

Cheeks straining from the awkward smile you plastered back onto your face, you glanced at him over your shoulder, sending him a partial wave. He shook his head, laughing softly to himself before he turned and closed his front door. Lily skipped happily over to your side as the pair of you made your way back to your front door, entirely unaware of your current embarrassment.

“How much longer until the pizza gets here?” she asked.

“Soon, coffee bean,” you answered, opening your front door.

Hopefully soon enough for me to bury my face in it and forget about that awkward encounter, you thought, hurrying back into your place. Because that was uncomfortable. Hopefully we don’t run into each other all that often.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle x you #frank castle #the punisher

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mrsjellymunson · 4 months

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The Biology Tutor | Extra Credits 02

Extra Credits 02: FRENCH

Series masterlist

Prev: Lesson 1: Female Anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills Next: Independent Study 01: Art | Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: You give Eddie a French lesson.

WC: 2.9k

CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI! This part isn't explicit, but the rest of the series is, so MDNI!! Fluff, kissing, mentions of arousal.

A/N: This takes place between Extra Credit 1 and Lesson 3. It’s an added extra to The Biology Tutor series.

My masterlist

Despite your best efforts to keep things cool, you and Eddie’s relationship at school has shifted.

Eddie will greet you with a cheery, “Heeey, Princess”, whenever you pass in the corridors, and you’ll sometimes give him a cheeky wave in the lunchroom. You both flush a little whenever your eyes lock, thinking about all the intimate stuff you’ve done together over the past days and weeks.

Thankfully, as yet none of your friends have noticed the way you’ve started to giggle a little more loudly at Eddie’s antics on the lunch tables, or the way he shoots you cheeky glances to check that you’re watching. Each of your social groups would likely have something disparaging to say, and you’d prefer to avoid that kind of attention for the time being.

You’ve become even more aware of your physical proximity in Biology class. Even though you could probably reach out and touch each other (and you would really, really like to do that…) you try not to draw too much attention to yourselves.

You’re finding it hard to keep your focus on the front, knowing that Eddie’s sitting inches away behind you. But you revel in the fact that he’s there at all (and is, in all likelihood, checking out your ass).

At the end of class, Mr Clarke calls you over.

“I wanted to thank you for your efforts regarding the private tutoring. Mr Munson’s work has certainly improved since you began, as has his class attendance, which is remarkable in and of itself. And he seems to have become more enthusiastic about the human biology aspect of the syllabus too, which is… unexpected, but really good to see.”

He looks off to one side, momentarily bemused, but recovers quickly and continues,

“Nevertheless, there is a big test coming up which, as you know, makes up a sizable proportion of your grade. I would very much like to see Mr Munson do well. I was hoping that you might help him prepare, and in the hopes that you’d agree, I’ve already booked private study room 2C in the library specifically for this purpose.”

You know the library well, and the one he’s describing is a particularly quiet one, located at the back of the rarely-used reference section. If you can get Eddie to join you, it’ll be the first time you’ve ever been alone with him at school. You experience a frisson of excitement at the thought.

You readily agree, figuring that even if that wasn’t reason enough, getting further in the good graces of Mr Clarke wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. However, you do think convincing Eddie to relinquish his entire lunchtime might be another matter entirely.

You approach him in the lunchroom, managing to get to him before his usual table fills up with nerds. He was initially aghast that you were anywhere near him, but once he realised nobody was really interested he listened to your proposal.

“You seriously do this shit voluntarily?” is his only response, until you mention, more quietly, how it would mean spending an entire hour in a small, isolated room. With you. Alone.

Suddenly, he’s all for it, packing up his stuff as you exit ahead of him. He extols the virtues of ‘accepting with grace the assistance the universe offers you’ to the smattering of confused Hellfire boys before hightailing it out of the hall, stuffing pretzels into his mouth as he goes.

You reach the study room first, and are already setting out books and pencils as Eddie barrels in. He practically skids to a halt, and ambles towards you, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to act nonchalant.

“Hey, Princess.”

He plops his bag onto the tabletop, and as he gestures to the empty seats next to you and across the table, he drops his voice to a lower timbre as he asks you,

“So, uh, where do you want me?”

Thanks to his mildly suggestive question, an image flashes across your mind of perching him, naked, on the edge of the table and climbing atop him, but you quickly shake it.

You tap your hand on the seat next to you, and he enthusiastically flops himself down in it. He sits up straight, clasping his hands in his lap, theatrically attentive.

As he’s already managed to fluster you, you decide to fluster him right back.

“You’re so good at doing what I tell you, Eddie. I like that.”

Eddie’s cheeks flush pink and he swallows hard. It worked.

It doesn't take long for you to go over the test questions. Eddie’s picked up more than he’d thought from the parts of your sessions where you’d actually studied, and he flies through most of it, only getting stuck on a couple of gnarly chemistry formulae. What’s more, he actually looks like he’s having fun, gaining genuine satisfaction from answering your questions correctly and beaming as you let him know,

“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”

You can’t tell whether it’s the academic achievement, or the broad smiles and encouragement that you’re giving him, that’s his biggest driver, but at this point you’ll take either as a win.

You've gradually started sitting closer as the session has gone on. You’ve scootched to the edges of your seats, and your elbows and knees are gently knocking together. You can feel Eddie’s breath on your cheek as he jabs at his test total on your pad, screwing up his face and making a fist with his other hand in triumph. You’re genuinely thrilled for him, and not just because the very idea that you could be the reason for those gorgeous dimples popping makes your tummy flip.

Checking your watch, you realise you have a few minutes left before you have to leave, and there’s another new ‘skill’ that you’ve been thinking about trying with him.

Once all your supplies are back in your bag, you check the time again before asking,

“Eddie, would you like to try another quick practical session?”

He looks around the room, eyebrows disappearing into his bangs.

“What, here? Now?”

“Yes, but not like our, um, previous sessions. Something less… involved.”

“Okay, but what is it?”

“Eddie, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, but have you ever kissed anyone?”

He looks a little abashed as he answers,

“Umm, does kissing your relatives on the cheek count?”

You can’t help smiling at his cute admission.

“For the purposes of this discussion, I’m gonna say no.”

He looks self-conscious, maybe even a little ashamed. Staring at the edge of the table, he clears his throat before replying,

“Then, uh, no.”

Not wanting him to feel uncomfortable, you reassure him,

“That’s okay, Eddie. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

After a beat, you continue,

“Would you like to try it? With me?”

“What?”

“Would you like for us to kiss, Eddie?”

His eyes become locked on your mouth. He swallows audibly, eyes shining with want.

“Umm, yeah. Yes. Yes, I absolutely would, Princess.”

“Just so I know how far you want to go, would you like us to… French kiss?“

“You mean… W- with, y’know, tongue?”

“Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Are you okay with that? I mean, you don’t have to…”

Shaking your head a little, you reassure him,

“I’m the one who suggested it, Eddie!”

He looks down at his hands, now clasped again as he rubs his thumbs together.

“Only if you’re sure. I might be awful at it.”

“Well, that’s why we practice, right? So, first of all, we need to get a little closer…”

You turn your seat so you’re facing him directly, encouraging him to do the same. You pull your seat forwards, slotting your knees between his. You see his eyes scanning your face, and his fingers fidget, suggesting he’s not really sure what to do with them.

“You can rest your hands on my legs if you’d like, Eddie.”

He does so, but not without a little trepidation, and you see him swallow again.

“Just relax. I’m not gonna bite you. Not this time, anyway.”

You give him what you hope is a cheeky smirk. He smiles shyly, not sure where to look when you’re this close to him. Nervously, he licks his lips. The sight makes your thighs clench.

“Close your eyes and relax, Eddie. I’m gonna start with a quick peck.”

“O- okaaaay.”

He does as you ask, and you spend a few moments appraising him before you lean into his space. He looks angelic, his wild curls framing his pretty face and his rosy pink lips looking soft and inviting.

You turn your head slightly so your nose will slide past his, close your eyes, and ever so slowly connect your lips with his. Pursing them a little, you press forwards, and you hear a slight intake of breath.

You said it was going to be quick, but you’re enjoying the feeling so much you relish in it for a few moments. Eddie’s lips are plump, warm, and just a little moist from where he’s licked them. A tiny amount of stubble tickles your top lip. He smells of old leather, some kind of spicy cologne and vanilla chapstick, with a hint of cigarettes and weed. It’s a heady scent you could easily get lost in.

Gathering yourself, you pull back, rolling your lips inwards to taste him.

Eddie still has his eyes closed. If you’re honest he looks like he’s about to faint. Even after all you’ve done together you’re still a little nervous, and you’re suddenly mortified that he found it repulsive.

You did remember to brush your teeth this morning, didn’t you? Did you eat garlic last night and forget? Do you have spinach in your teeth, even though you definitely haven’t eaten spinach in weeks??

“H- how was that, Eddie? Did you like it?”

Suddenly, his eyes pop open. His lips part a little and he nods his head quickly, causing his chestnut locks to bounce around his face. He stares at you for a few more moments before he manages to say in a tiny, cracking voice,

“More? Please?”

You smile widely, and lean in again.

This time you move a little, pursing and softening your lips, changing their position slightly to find out what he likes, slotting them in different places.

To your surprise, this time Eddie starts to kiss you back. His plump lips press against yours and the tiniest moan emanates from his chest. He’s tentative at first, but as he gains in confidence he presses a little harder, and moves a little more.

Your lips move in sync as you rhythmically purse and relax them.

Eddie exhales heavily, and more than a little shakily, through his nose, and you feel his warm breath dance across your face and décolletage.

You part from him with a subtle wet smack.

He swallows thickly, and the grip on your knees strengthens.

You smile at him again, and his eyes flick between yours as he mirrors your expression.

“Okay Eddie, if you’re ready, this time I’m gonna use my tongue. You don’t have to do anything, but if you want to, just do what feels good. Alright?”

Eddie gives you another tiny, fast nod, and you feel him squeeze your knees again.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready…”

He surprises you again as he shifts his hands slightly and slides them up your thighs, leaning into your space a little further. They feel warm, strong, and you can’t help but imagine how they might feel elsewhere.

What would it be like to hold his hand properly? Would his hand feel warm as it cupped your face? Would you be able to feel his rings? How would his calloused fingers feel running up your back, or across your…?

You’re broken from your thoughts as he closes his eyes again, a slight curl to his lips as he lets you know he’s ready.

You lean into his space again, and connect your lips as before. This time, you part your lips slightly and allow the tip of your tongue to poke out, and ever so gently brush across his lower lip. You hear that sharp intake of breath again as he stills, unsure of what he’s supposed to do, but then he parts his lips ever so slightly, and you slide your tongue past his lips and pearly teeth and into his mouth. You move it slowly, enjoying the feeling of his lips against it, the scrape of his teeth, the softness of his tongue beneath yours.

He moans again, and just as your tongue curls up to tickle the roof of his mouth suddenly his tongue is moving against yours, slowly, reverently, experimentally, and another moan leaves his chest.

His grip on your thighs tightens as he gets bolder, eventually pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth.

Abruptly, he turns his head slightly and pushes in more deeply, his tongue almost filling you. He’s insistent yet gentle, and now it’s your turn to gasp - he’s good at this - and a low whine leaves you.

You feel a chill on your legs as Eddie’s hands leave them, and you’re momentarily disappointed, but this rapidly turns into delighted surprise when one comes up to cup the back of your neck, the other grabbing the edge of your chair and pulling you closer towards him. He’s moaning continually now, turning his head to try different angles, licking and curling and sucking like you’re the very air he needs to breathe.

He’s pushing hard but not too hard, and when your teeth knock it’s adorable rather than uncomfortable.

It’s wet and messy, and oh, so fucking hot.

Your hands start travelling almost of their own accord, slipping up inside his jacket, sliding around his rib cage and settling on his surprisingly muscular back.

His hand travels up to your hair, mussing it, and you’re making his shirt ride up, but you couldn’t care less, lost in the sensations of your lips melding and tongues dancing.

There’s a pulsing heat in your core, and a wetness building in your underwear. You don’t think you've ever been this turned on just from kissing.

And how on Earth is Eddie so good at it?

You eventually both pull back, needing air, breathy and inhaling deeply.

Your eyes dance around his face, wanting to take it all in. His plump, kiss-bitten lips, his blown pupils, the way he’s looking at you with a stunned half-smile.

Needing a break from the intensity, you drop your eyes. But almost wish you hadn’t when you spot the obvious bulge in the front of Eddie’s pants.

He’s clearly enjoyed this as much as you have.

Just as you’re both leaning forward for another round, lips just brushing, the harsh and loud ringing of the school bell indicates the start of afternoon classes.

You and Eddie break apart with a start, exchanging breathy smiles, both a little surprised at how well that went.

He chuckles as he lets go of your hair, tidying it as best he can, and you pull down the hem of his shirt to straighten it.

”So, uh, I think I’d consider that lesson a success. Wouldn’t you, Mr Munson?”

He huffs out a little giggle, shaking his head slowly. His brow furrows and he fixes his face into as serious an expression as he can manage, as he dips his chin and replies,

“Oh, Princess, that feels like a great start. But you know, lessons work with me. So, just to be on the safe side, I think I might need a whole lot, lot more practice...”

He’s holding your gaze and nodding, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips for emphasis.

You nearly snort at his brazenness, constantly amazed at how he so easily flips between abject fear and bolshy confidence, and manage to squeak out,

“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can arrange, won’t we?”

He grins at you again, those dimples even deeper this time, and tidies one more strand of hair at your temple.

Reluctantly, you both gather your things and leave the study room, still with shiny lips and heat in your cheeks.

You walk leisurely, your upper arms brushing, through the racks of dusty tomes. Neither of you is in any particular hurry to get to your next class.

You glance to your side, and notice that Eddie seems bigger, taller. He’s puffing his chest and is carrying himself a little differently. You like it.

He turns to you as he asks, “D’you think we should, y’know, leave separately or whatever?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Awkward questions, and all that.”

You see Eddie’s eyes glance to the floor, then flit to the section containing the large encyclopaedias and dictionaries, before he adds,

“You know what, you go first. There’s something I want to check out in the reference section anyway…”

He flashes you a wink as you round the door jamb, causing something to revolve in your chest as you step out into the corridor. You definitely want to offer Eddie plenty of opportunities to practice this particular new skill.

As you head off to your next class, you wonder what on earth he could be up to. But more than that, you wonder how he’ll react to what you have in mind for your next study session…

Series masterlist

Prev: Lesson 1: Female anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills Next: Independent Study 01: Art | Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Thanks so much for reading!

Remember, writers thrive on your comments and reblogs, so if you liked this little extra please show some love 💕

A/N 2: I added this as an extra because I wanted Eddie and reader to share a special first kiss, but couldn’t work out how to fit it into the main Lessons without making them ridiculously long. I hope you like it!

The taglist for this series is open whilst it’s ongoing, and I have a general one now too - just let me know if you’d like to join either 😀 My masterlist, where you’ll find more Eddie and Steddie fics

Taglist (open whilst this series is ongoing): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie

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anundyingfidelity · 6 months

Text

YES, MA’AM — Sam Winchester/Sam Wesson ft. Dean Winchester/Dean Smith (Chapter I)

Summary: Sam is the new tech support guy at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., and he thinks you, his supervisor, are related to him in ways more than professional. He not only dreams of ghosts and Dean Smith, the sales and marketing director, but you, the pretty boss who seems very fond of him, maybe a little too much.

Word count: 1.3k.

Pairing: Sam W./Sam Wesson x female reader (main), Dean W./Dean Smith x female reader. Situated in 4x17 - It's a Terrible Life.

Warnings for this series: smut with plot, sexual tension, sub!Sam, dom!reader, switch!Dean, co-workers with benefits with Dean, boss/employee dynamics, canon violence and stuff. Slow updates oops.

Notes: welcome to my very first spn fanfic, hope you enjoy this short series of Sam and Dean!

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Chapter I | Chapter II

Chapter I: A Boring Life

Taking a quick look at the clock on the corner of the screen of his computer, Sam let out a long sigh. Lunch hour was far from near. He continued drawing the monsters he saw in his dreams on the notebook, those who wouldn't let him continue his abnormally boring and stupid life.

"Hey, Sam," a voice called, making him jump slightly on his seat.

He cleared his throat shutting the notebook and sitting right this time as he took in your figure towering over him in the cubicle with a smile on your lips.

"Hi, uhm... Is something wrong?"

You chuckled slightly. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. For Sam, bosses coming to him meant he might have done something wrong. He didn't want to know what he screwed up. Barely three weeks have passed since he started working there. As much as things were strange and weird around, Sam just wanted a quiet life.

"Not at all," you answered in a friendly manner. "Actually I just wanted to give you kudos. I've received good compliments from customers who called for help, you're doing excellent!"

Sam breathed out, feeling a heavy weight on his back dropping. He smiled. "Well, thank you. It feels good doing that."

But a raise or something would feel absolutely better, he thought.

"Sure! You're brilliant, have you ever been told that?"

"Uhm, not here. I mean- I want to say you're the first one. Sorry, the first one to say I'm brilliant, I- uhm I never really got kudos before? I don't think so but it does feel great."

He stumbled so much with his words that it made you laugh a little but he noticed you tried to suppress it. So you gave him a nod.

"Yeah, of course. I also see you're very organized with your stuff and reports," you remarked before taking a quick glance around and leaning a little bit toward him, your face morphing into a shy look. "Probably I shouldn't but could you help me with some reports today? You'd be off the phone, I just really need to send them by the end of the day and I'm extremely busy."

You bit your painted lower lip with big doe eyes, waiting for an answer. Since the first day he saw you around the company, he thought you looked extremely familiar. Like he had seen you before. Hell, it was like he knew you ages ago. But he wouldn't say it out loud, he might look like a creep.

You'd usually come like this to his spot just to talk and get into business, sometimes he'd go to ask you something he wasn't sure about from a call, but he never, ever herd from a complaint or that his work was shit from you. In fact, you were very kind and smart, always letting him know you were there if he needed anything. And you were pretty. So damn beautiful that you got his heart agitated and his body aching when you bent over a desk wearing tight black pencil skirts and those matching high stockings. He began to think probably you liked him but you used to get close to all of your employees on the tech support floor. You were just being nice to everyone.

"Uh, sure. I can do that," Sam curved his lips into a smile.

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver! I'll send you those in your email, ask me anything if it's difficult, okay?"

You responded with happy demeanour and quickly walked away back to your office, leaving him alone before he had the moment to say something. Just two minutes later he received an email from you with a bunch of reports and data to organize.

Sam scanned the files quickly while hearing the sounds of a chair rolling to his side.

"I think she likes you, man," Ian, the messy and chill coworker of his, teased. Sam chuckled.

"Nah, she's just nice to everyone. Besides, she needs help."

Suddenly, a notification popped from the side of his screen on the computer.

It was a message from you. It read:

Put on the headphones and listen to some music if you want ;)

"You were saying?" Ian joked again.

He smiled. Well, at least he'd be off the phone. Shouldn't be that hard, right?

The night fell and Sam found himself alone on his desk at eight o'clock working on your reports. Seeing the long reports and files he thought could make it on time to finish his shift at four and leave on time. It was fucking Friday. Poor him.

At least you ordered delivery for dinner for both of you. The good thing was that he wasn't really alone on the floor, you were in your office but soft music played as you worked on your stuff. Moments later, you found yourself sitting by Sam's side as he worked the final things on the last report.

"It's done," he announced, his body falling to the backrest of his chair.

"Thanks," you whispered shyly as he sent the finished files back to you. "I'm so sorry though, it's so late."

"Well, didn't have anything to do either."

"Really?!"

Your surprise made his eyes fall on you. He shrugged. "Just sleep."

You raised your eyebrows. "I thought maybe a girlfriend was waiting for you or something?"

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "No, nothing like that."

The question was odd coming from you, so he decided to play a little.

"What about you?"

This time you shook your head. "Just my books and my TV."

Sam hummed. "It's a boring life, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well I get to pay my bills by the end of the month... And I meet nice people here... And I see you- Sorry."

You cut off your words all of a sudden, your eyes blinking rapidly saying you realized what you just said.

"My bad. We should get going."

You gave him a smile to try and brush off your words, but they were strong enough to get in Sam's head unnoticed. He watched you walk away, turning your computer and lights off on your office as Sam did the same on his spot. Once done, you walked out the floor together in silence.

"Thank you again. I don't think no one would ever do this for me here," you admitted with a deep exhale.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam smiled kindly as you got closer to the elevator.

"Really, I owe you. Do you have a car to get home or something? I can give you a ride if you need."

"I do, don't worry," he said as you stopped in front of the elevator, the doors opening.

"Great, so I think this is it," you grinned at him. "Have a good night."

"Thanks. I hope you have a good weekend, boss."

You nodded. "You too, Sam. Take care."

He saw you disappearing inside the elevator with a wave of your hand and a beautiful smile on your face. With a sigh, he made his way to the locker room and took his briefcase and stuff out. It was just a couple of minutes that he saw you leaving when he went back to the elevator. Checking his watch, the lift arrived and before he could get inside, he got a shocking picture in front of him.

Dean Smith, the marketing director, had you pinned against the wall and kissing down your neck. Your blouse unbuttoned, skirt up, lips open and eyes closed in bliss. Dean noticed the doors were open, pulling away his plump lips from your skin.

"Sorry buddy, wrong floor," he beamed and pushed the right button.

When you opened your eyes once again, you met Sam's open mouth and wide eyes as the doors closed. Great, now he might think you're a slut.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x female reader #sam x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean x reader x sam #sam wesson #dean smith #supernatural fanfiction

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megyulmi · 2 months

Text

➠ Symbolism of Yuuji’s childhood memories in Chapter 265 and how it connects to his conversation with Sukuna:

I was rereading the latest chapter and ended up dwelling on how the order in which certain things appear along the path Yuuji and Sukuna are walking connects with the progression of their conversation and the outcome of it, so I want to point out a few of such details in case someone else finds it interesting.

First, I will start with Morning Glory (asagao, 朝顔, lit. morning face) Yuuji mistakes Ajisai for. Asagao was brought to Japan with the advent of Buddhism and came to represent Enlightenment. When one thinks of the flower, an old line often comes to mind: [Asagao blossoms and fades quickly to prepare for tomorrow’s glory]. It is the theme of one of the oldest songs on the morning glory, written by the Chinese priest at the temple of Obaku near Uji, who is said to have been the first person to introduce the flower to Japan. Since its arrival, it has been a frequent theme in Japanese Buddhist poetry, particularly when writing on the fleeting condition of human lives, as the poets found a congenial subject in the morning glory, for they considered no flower has a briefer life and beauty, and the buds of yesterday are flowers to-day, but only for a few short hours, and then nothing will be left but ruin and decay; though how quickly fresh buds will appear and fresh flowers open to be the tomorrow’s ‘morning glory’. Therefore, in Japanese culture, asagao is a symbol of new beginnings. The flowers open in the morning, representing the dawn of a new day, and close in the evening, symbolising the end of the day and the passing of time.

Next comes Ajisai (紫陽花), the Japanese hydrangea. The flower has both positive and negative connotations in Japanese tradition, symbolising both deep or heartfelt emotion and also a fickle or changeable heart. However, I mentioned in this post that the blue hydrangea (I am assuming blue, because Yuuji mistook it for asagao) can mean sincerity, forgiveness, remorse and spirituality. Ajisai are also an important part of the ceremony in celebration of Buddha’s birthday (Kambutsue), where his statue is washed with sweet hydrangea tea by the visitors of the temples. As such they are often found at shrines and temples.

After that, Yuuji and Sukuna catch Crayfish. Interestingly, Buddhist philosophy references the crayfish when speaking about the temporary nature of existence. All that seems solid and permanent, like the crayfish shell, eventually disappears. There is a famous painting of Priest Xianzi (Japanese: Kensu) by Unkoku Tōgan from the Momoyama period. It depicts a seated figure of a Buddhist monk who appears to be contemplating the large crayfish (or shrimp). Kensu or Xianzi is a semi-legendary eccentric priest of the Tang dynasty, who spent much of his time wandering along riverbanks, eating crayfish and clams. He allegedly achieved Enlightenment while catching a crayfish.

Later they come across Horses, which hold a special place in Buddhism, embodying spiritual virtues and the timeless quest for Enlightenment. The story of Siddharta Gautama Buddha’s renunciation and his separation from his beloved horse, Kanthaka, is a significant story in Buddhism. As Siddharta decided to leave behind his life of luxury and embark on a spiritual journey, he faced the task of saying goodbye to his beloved horse. The separation from Kanthaka symbolises the profound sacrifice he took when he renounced worldly attachments in the pursuit of Enlightenment. Additionally, in the Shamanistic tradition of East Asia and Central Asia, there is a concept of the Wind Horse, a flying horse that is the symbol of the human soul. In Tibetan Buddhism, it was included as the pivotal element in the centre of the four animals symbolising the cardinal directions.

After the horses, we see them engage in Archery. As a Buddhist symbol, the bow and arrow are found throughout the art, mythology and theology; held by gods, part of vivid legends, lauded in sacred texts and painted on the walls of the temple fortresses. They are symbols of the wisdom and compassion of the Buddha. Just as the arrow flies straight to its target, so too must the mind of the archer be focused and free from distractions.

And lastly, Snow. As a symbol of purity, it is taken as representative of naive innocence behind heroic undertakings. In this regard, it is also a subject of paintings in special combination with cherry blossoms as a symbol of what is ephemeral and transitional as is the life of the hero. However, snow is often associated in the Japanese short poetry with the Zen notion of Emptiness. This is because, to quote the poet Naitō Jōsō, snow covers and clears everything: [fields and mountains / all taken by snow / nothing remains]. From the lens of Buddhism, as the defilements—greed, hatred, and delusion—melt away like snow, the process of purification speeds up our relinquishment of impurity. To do this, one needs to be able to feel their humanity from within, where the invisible factors of mindfulness, clarity, faith, energy, concentration, and wisdom can dismantle and dissolve years of deluded ways of perception, of relating to life. Only then will the ground of awakening begin to appear.

I find Yuuji’s conversation with Sukuna to be rich in symbolism, each element along their path reflecting deeper themes of compassion and Enlightenment. Their journey begins with the morning glory, symbolising a new beginning and Yuuji’s offer of redemption to Sukuna. The hydrangeas, mistakenly identified as morning glories by him, signify Yuuji’s readiness and offer of remorse as he sincerely reminisces on his childhood with him. The appearance of the crayfish continues this theme, highlighting that this conversation is a chance for Sukuna to contemplate the temporary nature of existence and the path he wants to continue leading from there on. The horses, embodying spiritual virtues and the timeless quest for Enlightenment, appear as Yuuji’s way of asking him to renounce his old ways in pursuit of Enlightenment, followed by Archery right after, emphasising his readiness for compassion despite all Sukuna has done to him, mirroring the Buddhist ideal of a concentrated, undistracted mind. And lastly, comes snow as a symbol of purity and the potential for redemption, evoking the Zen notion of emptiness and the purification of defilements. Yuuji, by invoking these symbols, offers Sukuna the last chance at redemption and Enlightenment. He shows Sukuna the final act of compassion if Sukuna shows remorse, which Sukuna refuses.

In the end, Yuuji and Sukuna walk the same path, but their choices lead them in opposite directions. Yuuji embraces the symbols of Enlightenment, striving for a higher understanding and compassion, whereas Sukuna rejects these ideals, choosing instead to renounce the path to Enlightenment.

#i need to stop info dumping hereㅋㅎ #but i have so many thoughts on the last two chaptersㅜㅜ #hopefully someone finds this interesting.#jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #yuji itadori #sukuna #ryomen sukuna

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fandomzwriterk · 2 months

Note

Can you write about Smoke x female reader and Smoke trying to ask the reader out on a date?

A/N: I gotchu👍 Also we’re starting the trend of “todays chapter is brought to you by****” Anyways this chapter is brought to you by the song Lose My Breath by Stray Kids & Charlie Puth

Warnings: none just fluff

Early morning at the Shirai Ryu…

You were up and walking around one of the training rooms, stretching and trying to get relaxed and not stiff like you just laid on a ton of bricks. You had fallen asleep once again on the floor from last nights training. How you ended up in your bed, you didn’t know but regardless, you had things you needed to do. You were the only one up, not even the Lin Kuei brothers were up this early. At least that’s what you thought. You had just gotten a wooden dummy set up, making strikes at the stomach, legs, and the neck which was nice since you couldn’t get hit back, just learning to control speed right now. You did this at least ten times, three minutes each just making combos on the wooden figure.

“Somebody’s up early.” You heard behind you

You spun around after knocking the dummy back onto the ground. You didn’t mean too, but the strength you held back and the shock of being caught boosted your ability to let go of what you were holding back. There, right behind you, was Tomas standing with his arms crossed and his eyes staring you down. He was leaning against the wall, watching you with such intent.

“How long have you been there?”

“Not long. I knew someone was up this early, so I just wanted to see who it was. Didn’t expect it to be you though.”

“Well I want to train away from Johnny and Kung Lao. Elder gods forbid they let me have one day without them making a mess or distraction.”

Tomas moved to walk towards you in the center of the room, seeing his eyes focus on you and not what you had been doing.

“If you and your brothers were around more I’d ask you for help but you three are gone so much I-“

“Well I’m here now aren’t I?”

You nodded. Tomas wanted to see what you were doing so why not indulge him? It’s not like he’d hurt you either. Out of the three brothers, it was obvious Tomas liked you the most. Whether out of intrigue or friendliness, you’d yet to figure that one out.

“Come on, I promise I won’t hurt you.”

You only nodded as Tomas charged you, causing you to jump to the side. You pushed the dummy far away, almost making it hit the wall as Tomas spun around and swung with his karambit aiming for your body. He was pulling his strikes, which wasn’t normally how he trained. You blocked his arm and pushed his dominant arm that held the blade. He took a step back, smoking about five feet away from where you were and posed to have you attack him.

“Come on Y/n I know you can go harder than that.”

He wasn’t teasing with his words, he wanted you to train with him right now. You took a step as he used a smoke bomb to get closer to you, quickly closing the gap as you went to punch at him. You noticed his blade wasn’t sharp as you both clashed and were pushing each other with your forearms. Tomas was pushing forward just as much as you were, trying to see who was stronger. You kicked his calf, causing him to move his leg forward while he grabbed your gi top, pulling you back to him whole you both tripped each other. Tomas hit the ground first, you falling on top of him, sitting on his waist. He held his blade up near your throat while you readied a punch. You both froze, realizing you had gotten Tomas down first.

“Ha! I got you.”

“Yeah yeah I was going easy on you.”

You rolled off of him, letting him sit up as you sat next to him. He was out of breath, quite quickly which was odd since he was good at keeping composed all the time.

“God it’s so hard to breathe.”

He pulled his mask off, tossing it behind him as you saw his face red and burning. He was panting hard, how did he lose his breath so easily?

“You’re just out of practice.” You joked

He wiped his forehead with his arm, turning his head to smile at you.

“Maybe I have other reasons too.”

“And what might that be?”

“I’m not going to give in that easy.”

“Oh do you want me to beat it out of you?”

“Go ahead. I’m not pulling back this time.”

You both rolled away from each other, now standing face to face with a large gap between you two. Neither of you moved, your eyes drifted around as Tomas swung his karambit around in his usual “I’ve so got this” type of attitude. You might be smaller than him, not as strong as him, but your small size made up in speed. If you tried hard enough, you could definitely beat him.

“Come on Y/n I thought you wanted to beat me.”

You ran up, readying your own small practice blade while Tomas did the same. You both clashed in the middle, putting weight on each other with your forearms once more. You watched Tomas’ eyes as they followed up and down trying to find a way to hit you. He pushed you back, his leg swinging for your head. You did the same, kicking his leg with yours. Tomas swung his karambit to hit your nose, but you quickly blocked the side of your head by covering it. You went to punch his stomach while he pulled out a smoke bomb to move behind you. He was ready to strike, but you were faster. You squatted down and kicked your leg behind you while you spun to face him. The hit to his ankle made him stumble and you noticed he was quickly out of energy as his stomach hit the ground hard.

“You alright there Smokey?”

No reply and Tomas jumped at you, holding you close as he rolled over you, taking you with him as he hit the floor. Your face was mashed into his chest while his arms held you tightly.

“What’re you gonna do about it-“

You grabbed one of his smoke bombs, setting it off right on top of him making him let you go as you ran a little ways away. The smoke was thick enough to fill the room, so you tried to move as quietly as possible. The faint outline of his dark grey hair could be seen, so you went to move behind him since his vision was unclear, and now it was your turn to fight back.

“That was a cheap trick Y/n. I didn’t know you play dirty.”

He was looking around for you as the smoke began to clear. He was right in front of you, his back to you not noticing you quite yet. You jumped forward, sending both of you down to the ground. Just as you touched his back with only the tips of your fingers, Tomas grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a hug while he rolled over you with him above you.

“Nice try.”

His hands held down your wrists while he had one leg between your legs and the other on the outside of your leg. You struggled against him, but his weight was fully on top of you and had you pinned on the ground. His smile had that classic smug expression, noticing you had lost and he had all the power.

“I know we said that if you won I’d tell you but I think I’m going to tell you anyways even if you lost.”

His eyes softened, letting you go and sitting back on his heels. You crawled a little bit away from him, doing the same as you both stared at each other.

“You know Y/n, I’ve never said anything remotely close to what I’m going to say but-“

His face was red again, holding something back in his mind.

“I think you’re… beautiful. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

He held his hands out, his palms up as a gesture to say he wanted you to put your hands on his. You did, feeling that funny little feeling you’ve had for Tomas all these years. His eyes drifted from your hands to your face. You were sure he was staring into your eyes.

“I’ve loved you for a long time, I just never had the courage to tell you after… you know.”

He was talking about Shang Tsung and his so called “reign of terror”, but you all had won so there’s no need to worry anymore.

“After all of that, mostly from watching Bi Han betray us… I knew I needed somebody like you to be by my side. No, not needed, more like wanted. What I’m trying to say is-“

You quickly move up and placed your lips on his, stopping his words right then and there. He kissed back, but you knew he was in shock. You pulled back, intertwining your hands together.

“I’ve always loved you Tomas, and of course you’ll always have me.”

He smiled, his eyes bright and shinning with the excitement of something you couldn’t quite place. He pulled you into his chest, placing his arms around you in a warm and tight hug. He buried his face in your neck, and you could feel his smile on your skin.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

The End…

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed! I’m so sorry it took so long😭😭😭

#mk1 smoke #mk1 oc #smoke mk1 #smoke mk #smoke mortal kombat #smoke x you #smoke x reader #smoke #mk1 tomas vrbada #tomas x you #tomas vrbada x afab reader #tomas vrbada x you #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas x reader #tomas vrbada #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat smoke #mortal kombat tomas vrbada

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paingoes · 13 days

Text

Destroyer

Medical Conference

hi guys um. i cant stop writing destroyer. i swear ill figure out a system to organize these “bonus” chapters soon i promise i promise

delta is eighteen in this but the chapter delves into abuse he experienced when he was a child so cw for that

(Content: living weapon whumpee, lab whump, medical whump, put on display, dehumanization, conditioning, noncon drugging, needles, non-consensual/nonsexual nudity, noncon touching, physical abuse, emotional whump, angst, child abuse, child death mention, parental whump?)

“I forgot, sir,” Delta tried weakly. He knew as soon as he said it that he should’ve just kept quiet.

“No, you didn’t. You’re going to lie about it as well?” Dr.Martino shut down the attempt, focusing his attention back to the device.

Delta laid down unmoving against the steel table as the scanner searched over him. It gave him mild electric shocks each time it passed. Of course, he hadn’t been looking forward to the diagnostic tests. But he hadn’t been trying to get out of it entirely. That wouldn’t have worked. He only wanted more time to psych himself up for it. Too long, apparently. He’d had to be collected for it. It’d been a bad note to start on.

The rest of the exam went on in silence, without anymore mention of his avoidance. As Delta redressed, he thought he might’ve been off the hook for it. Dr.Martino was fumbling though his desk drawers like he’d already left.

He produced two unopened packs of pencils from inside the desk. Delta deflated a little bit.

Delta took the pencils and arranged them in two rows along the floor, lined up flush against one another. Gingerly, he kneeled down on top of them.

“Hands behind your back,” the doctor said, leaning back in his chair.

Already there. He knew the drill. He lowered his head, silently counting. No longer than twenty minutes, usually. No fewer than ten.

When he looked up again, Martino was leaning back against the table, flipping through a folder.

“The ISCEM conference is coming up in a month,” he said offhandedly, as if this would mean something to him.

“Okay?” Delta answered, more in confusion than anything else. He hadn’t meant for it to be disrespectful.

Nevertheless, Dr.Martino’s shoe pressed down against his calf, driving the pencils further into his skin.

“Yes, sir,” he quickly corrected himself. The pressure disappeared. The pain stayed where it was.

“You were probably too young to remember the last one, weren’t you?” Dr.Martino sighed.

“Yes, sir.” He didn’t really think about it. He was pretty distracted by the numbness traveling down his legs.

“Well, put it on your calendar. Don’t want you forgetting again.”

“Yes, sir.”

He didn’t have a calendar.

“Mention the steady-state thing we discussed. I have files on it, I - is it too late to make a copy? I will. And if you could just please pass along a message for me, I would be ever so grateful,” Simon went on, fumbling through his own briefcase, trying to give what he could. Dr.Martino took the reports from him, flipping them around to see the equations he’d scribbled onto the back.

“You’re not coming? Sir?” Delta added the “sir” on as an afterthought, conscious of the doctor’s presence. Simon himself rarely demanded such formalities.

“Don’t interrupt,” Dr.Martino snapped, more tense than usual. But Simon obliged him, stepping a little closer.

“Not my scene.” Simon patted his head. It was soft, but Delta reflexively flinched away from any hands that drew too near to his face.

Something on the desk beeped. The transit had rafted up.

Delta held his wrists up easily as Martino presented the cuffs. They were psychic tech, meant to restrict his powers more than the collar already did. Presumably some kind of safety measure. He felt his world going flat as they clicked into place, all his spatial awareness reduced to a single field of view. The effect was extremely disorienting. He nearly fell over getting off of the table.

He’d mostly evened out by the time they’d gotten to the hotel. He sat idly against the chair he’d been placed in, watching the doctor unpack. Everything in the room was the same shade of beige.

It seemed like they should’ve been able to go. Martino abruptly produce a vial from the bag. Delta recognized it as a sedative. He inserted the syringe into it, drawing it back up.

“I’ll behave, sir,” Delta offered. He eyed the needle warily; he’d usually have been given something in the way of warning.

Martino shook his head. He took a firm grip of Delta’s arm.

“Believe me, this is for your own good.”

Delta tensed his arm up, holding still as the needle entered him. Something cold shot into his veins. It took a long time for the chamber to empty.

It hit him before they even reached the elevator. He clung to Martino’s arm, needing something to brace himself against, however briefly. Martino assured him he wouldn’t have to stand for long. They moved backstage at the panel. Delta nearly collapsed into the fold-up chair.

The cuffs were briefly removed as he was given the medical gown to wear. His hands moved slower than he would’ve liked, but he was able to put it on. It tied along the front, leaving much of his chest exposed.

Dr.Martino took a minute to make sure it was fitted correctly. He cursed, noticing for the first time the visible boot print against the side of Delta’s ribs.

“Great. They’re going to think I beat you.”

You do beat me, Delta thought. Not as much as he used to. Not as much as Paris. But Martino still hit him.

The doctor felt over the bruise with his hand, reigniting the pain. Delta winced. It was recent — still tender. The sedative helped a bit. All his thoughts were coming to him in a haze.

There was nothing that could be done to cover it, so apparently they were just going to ignore it. The cuffs came back on around his wrists. He led Delta out onto the platform regardless, sitting him up against the stool. It was had a back to it, luckily. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay upright without it. He’d been trained enough not to slouch or to look so outwardly high, but it was definitely a struggle to maintain neutrality. He kept his head down. It was the safest, the easiest to maintain for a long period. People gradually filed in. Though he was used to being put on display, the sterility and lack of decorum in this new space made the whole thing feel all the more jarring. It all felt far away, though.

His eyes closed without meaning to. When he tuned back in, Dr.Martino was droning on. He recognized some of the words. He would’ve recognized more if he wasn’t drugged. It was a talk about internal power generation. Conduits. There was a hand on his shoulder. Delta stood up from the chair. The gown was pulled down a bit from his shoulders.

Martino pressed the multimeter to his collarbones, watching the number climb until it broke. He pulled it away before it could burn up completely. He pressed a thin disk up against Delta’s chest, where it held there. It was some kind of controller. A thin arc of electricity emerged from it without any conscious intention on his part. More appeared, each of them branching away from his body like a plasma ball. The effect was immediate; that familiar fear crept into the eyes of the audience.

It cut all at once. The disk was removed. Delta sat back down on the chair, pulling the gown back up over himself.

The lights darkened. Behind him, a clip show began to play. He didn’t need to look back. He’d seen it plenty of times. Different explosions, annihilations, destructions. All his own work. He could recount each of them to the second. It played for a long time.

For some reason, they clapped when it was over.

“Sorry — do you mind if I look at it?”

Delta opened his eyes again, sensing the it in question. He tensed up.

He hated being touched. The moderator stripped the gown back again. He felt the electric pulse still going about Delta’s clavicle. His hands traveled around the collar.

“I’m biomedical by trade,” the man explained, tapping at the gold, “This is custom, yes? When was it made?”

“The model’s about five years old. It gets updated about once a year.”

“Incredible. I see some scarring, though.”

Delta shivered as the fingers traced the burn scars by his neck, a bit on his trapezius. They were in the shape of a Lichtenberg figure.

“That seems non-optimal?”

“Those actually predate the collar. They’re a natural result of it overextending itself during an exercise. The restrictor works as a stopgap to prevent that kind of burnout.”

Though he’d expected it, it still jarred Delta just how easily Martino slipped back into calling him it.

Another scientist approached. She slid up to Martino, shaking his hand eagerly.

“Oh, darling.” He embraced her. She grinned, readjusting her jacket as they pulled away.

“Danny, it’s been ages. How are the girls?” Her nails clicked together.

Danny. The girls. Martino actually had a family. Not that he ever saw them. He had daughters. They’d been kids, the one and only time Delta had ever met them. They had to be in their twenties by now.

“Brats, the lot of them. They’re smart, though. Smarter than I was at their age.”

“Well, that’s not saying much.”

Delta was not surprised when her hands traveled onto him. He barely flinched this time. But he hadn’t expected her to speak to him.

“Oh, and look at you. You’re all grown up now, huh?”

She gripped his chin in between her fingers, studying his face. The touch wasn’t harsh, nor was it gentle.

“You probably don’t remember me.”

That was correct. Her face was vaguely familiar, but he could find no memories to attach to it.

“He’s a bit distant at the moment. You’ll have to forgive him,” Martino answered for him.

She released her grip, turning her attention back to the doctor. Even in his current state, it didn’t take him long to put it together. She’d been one of the teachers at the Institute. He wondered how many of them were wandering around out there now. Most of them. Dr.Martino had been the only one to retain some semblance of his position. All the other administrators had been cast away just the same as the students.

He had forgotten nearly every one of their names.

Martino packed up the last of the day’s display materials, arranging all of it back into the suitcase. It’d been a success, as far as these things go. He’d revealed all he could without breaching the terms of his contract. All the real science was under a strict NDA. It was nice to catch up with some colleagues, though. It was healthy to be off of a spaceship every once in a while.

He tugged Delta’s sleeve, pulling him up from the plastic chair. He took a minute to undo the cuffs; he’d thought they were an excessive measure to begin with and they had prevented any real show of power. Delta rubbed idly at the marks they had left there.

They made their way back up to the hotel room. The drug had not yet worn off; Delta still stumbled a bit when he walked. He’d redressed himself in a thick hoodie, trying to keep out the chill from the overactive AC or perhaps just trying to hide.

The door opened. Martino dropped his suitcase onto the bed. Presumably out of habit, Delta lowered himself to the floor, kneeling there. Waiting for instructions, as if he could have followed them. Martino scoffed.

“You can sit on the bed. I booked a double room for a reason.”

He watched the whole minute it took for his words to sink in. The way it took even longer for Delta to actually rise, blearily climbing up onto the mattress. His hands gripped searchingly across the blanket, pulling up the edges like he needed something to hold onto.

Martino ignored him. He moved to the far side of the room and opened the door to the balcony. The city skyline was clearly visible just down the road. The lights from it shone brighter than the stars from space. Martino produced one of the foreign cigarettes from its packet. The ember burned in the dark night. It was all quiet.

“What was I like when I was little?”

He turned to look at Delta. The kid was drugged out of his mind. He might’ve given him too much.

Dr.Martino took a long drag. He rarely smoked, so used to the endless sterility that he would not so much as dirty the air. But tonight was a rare night.

“What were you like?” He ashed the cigarette, turning back to look at the night skyline. “I don’t remember.”

Delta looked down, disappointed. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself. Martino sighed, losing the battle.

“…You were quiet. Same as you are now. You mostly kept to yourself.”

He gave no visible reaction.

“You didn’t get along so well with the other kids,” Martino admitted, some disdain entering his voice.

Delta looked up. His expression was totally blank.

“Why do you hate me?” he asked.

It was manipulative, and self-pitying in a way that did not flatter him. Martino put the cigarette out. He stepped back into the room.

Delta shrank back a bit. The doctor looked him over. His eyes had dimmed some, no doubt due to the sedative. His hands were unbloodied. Just looking at him, no one would have know what he’d done. Martino remembered the sound of bones snapping and the bodies out in the yard. He remembered the expression Delta had worn the first time he’d killed — as blank and unfeeling as the one he wore now. He did hate him, he supposed. He’d never been his favorite. All his favorites had been buried a long time ago.

He didn’t say that. He remembered his lines — and he cursed himself for ever diverging from them, even for a second. He would correct it now.

“There is no you.”

Delta opened his mouth as if to object, then thought better of it. Good.

“No more talking tonight,” Martino said.

Delta nodded, laying down onto the mattress. He fell asleep with all the lights on.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @pigeonwhumps

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hollandorks · 1 year

Text

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

interlude one

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: look I know I said I probably wasn't going to write Bruce's POV in this fic but I literally couldn't help it. But instead of splitting chapters with POV right now is to just throw in a few short interludes to give a peek inside Bruce's head!

Series Masterlist

word count: 1.4k

Bruce's POV

Bruce was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because, if there was one thing he’d learned in his life, it was that it was inevitable.

He’d been living in a constant state of fear ever since y/n had come home.

Serial killers, city floods, bombs, that kind of stuff was nowhere near as frightening as she was.

She’d always, always been able to see straight through him in a way no one else ever could. Even three years ago, when he had purposefully broken her heart, he thought she would see straight through to the truth of the matter–that he was lying for her own good.

And stupidly, there he’d been, interacting with her as the Batman, waiting for her to roll her eyes in that way of hers and say, “Take off the stupid fucking costume, Bruce.”

Every time he had opened his mouth, he thought he was done for. And okay, maybe he was deepening his voice to try to throw her off, but that was more out of habit than anything. Everything he said, everything he did, felt like the smoking gun that would make her go “Aha!” He’d even made a joke as if everything were normal, for god’s sake. And all it had done was make her scared of him.

That only made things worse.

Now, he stared at the security footage in front of him with an ache in his chest.

Y/n was asleep sitting up in his private elevator, the one that would lead her down to the abandoned subway station if she figured out how to put in the code.

He was freshly back from another patrol and had just changed when he caught sight of her on the screen. His heart ached for her, to hold her, to comfort her. He’d been a bastard the past few days even after she had lost her grandmother. He knew it was because he was grieving too, something she normally would have understood.

But not anymore. She had frozen him out as effectively as he had frozen her out. The chasm between them yawned wider and darker with every passing day, and he hated it. He hated every second of it, but he couldn’t stop, because it was better for her. When the other shoe inevitably dropped and the world found out who he really was, it was best if she was as distant from him as possible.

Even if he kept finding himself drawn inescapably back into her orbit.

“You’re walking a very precarious line,” Alfred murmured from where he poured over some sort of paperwork. The pair of them had started hiding in the Wayne Terminus station since y/n had gotten into town. It wasn’t on purpose, really. It was simply easier to discuss all things Batman related away from her.

“I know,” Bruce said. He leaned both palms against the table and stared at her. She looked so small on the screen, so…lonely and broken. His eyes stung just to look at her. And he knew it was his fault. The distance was killing him even though he was the one who had created it.

“I mean, really, Bruce–interacting with her as the Batman? What are you going to do when she inevitably figures it out?” Alfred set down his pen and took his glasses off. Bruce’s thoughts again turned to y/n. She would call Alfred’s tone his tired dad voice.

Bruce held in a sigh. They had gone over every iteration of this argument in the past three years, only now it was more relevant since y/n had actually met Batman. Before, it was simpler. She refused to come to Gotham, refused to see him, refused to even hear details about him according to Dory. Now she was entirely enmeshed in both of his lives and it was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

“Then she’ll know.” Bruce half-shrugged.

“But you won’t outright tell her.”

“I’m trying to–”

“Keep her safe, I know. But Bruce, surely you’ve noticed–”

That she was different now? That she was a shell of herself? That pushing her away had done irreparable damage that he couldn’t see the entire extent of? “Yes.”

You’ve done enough, she’d said that night. Because he had. He had hurt her, on purpose, over and over again. He was still hurting her. Though it was in her best interests–of that he was certain–it was hurting her.

“So you’ll just let her figure it out and let things fall as they may.” It wasn’t a question. “Even though it will come back to bite you. You know that, right?”

Bruce rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “I can’t just–”

“Tell the truth?” Alfred offered wryly. He twirled his pen then tapped it on a paper.

Bruce was tired of arguing with him. “No, Alfred, I can’t just tell the truth. Knowing puts her in danger. Knowing–knowing means things will never be the same.”

Alfred sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Things already aren’t the same and you know it.” He said it carefully, gently. But Bruce already knew.

“You know what I mean,” he mumbled, eyes straying back to the security feeds again.

“If she finds out, and you didn’t tell her…the longer this goes on, the worse it will be.” Again, Alfred’s voice was careful, almost gentle. It was born of his affection for y/n, Bruce knew. They both loved her in their own way. Alfred had helped raise her. Bruce’s decision had affected them all.

Seeing her sleeping there, so obviously weighed down by her grief, Bruce wanted her to know. Then maybe they could stop hurting and work towards making things…maybe not what they used to be, but close.

Fuck it, Bruce decided, and he heard the words in her voice.

No time like the present.

He strode over to the elevator and hit the button to call it down. Alfred stood and leaned on his cane. Bruce’s heart pounded loudly in the silence as the elevator slowly, slowly lowered. A million things went through his head at once. Would she be angry? Confused? Excited? She knew that he used the old station, but last time she had seen it it had been a slapped together garage.

He glanced around the space right before the elevator rattled to a stop.

No, it was obvious what it was used for now. The dummy that held his armor when it wasn’t in use or needed repairs was in full view of the doors opening.

Bruce glanced down, a surge of adrenaline almost making him black out.

But she was still asleep.

He frowned then looked over his shoulder at Alfred. Alfred shrugged.

She looked so peaceful, even in the cramped position she was in.

He said her name softly but she didn’t stir.

He guessed that was the universe’s way of telling him it was pointless.

Bruce stepped inside, careful to be quiet even though she’d slept through the rattling elevator descending several stories and its gates creaking open. He exchanged one last look with Alfred then hit the button to take them back upstairs.

Alfred’s expression mirrored the disappointment Bruce felt. Alfred was disappointed in Bruce though. He knew without the older man saying anything that Bruce should have woken her, should have finally had a conversation three years in the making.

Bruce was disappointed that she hadn’t woken and made the choice easier for him.

He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, his secret would finally be hers. That maybe he could explain.

But like most things in his life, it was too good to be true.

When the elevator stopped again, Bruce leaned down and carefully shifted her into his arms.

His eyes stung again at the familiar scent of her. It was a balm to his soul to be so close to her after so long, even though she was asleep. He inhaled shakily and held the scent in his lungs.

Her eyes fluttered open at the movement. He stared down at her, arms tightening instinctively, and waited for her to say something, anything. He expected her to shove away from him or maybe shout until he put her down.

But all she did was nuzzle into his neck and inhale deeply with a hum. He almost dropped her at the mixture of intense pain and relief that washed over him. His heart cracked again. God, he missed her.

“I miss you,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his neck.

When he looked down at her again, smiling faintly, she was already asleep again.

He very gently laid her in her bed. She immediately curled on her side with a little sigh. He tucked her in and hovered there, aching to hold her, aching to wake her up, just aching.

“I miss you too,” he whispered around the lump in his throat.

She didn’t wake.

Next Chapter

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@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard

#bruce wayne x reader #battinson x reader #the batman x reader #batman x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson #bruce wayne #haven #haven fic

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drdemonprince · 5 months

Note

ok, listening & learning here. i've been pretty invested in electoral politics my whole life—my dad's a state congressman now, much to everyone's misfortune. so i've definitely been the person who's said stuff like "well, you can do more radical stuff AND vote," but i think you're spot on—i haven't gotten involved in community organizing, but i have gone to democrat meetings. i guess i'm scared because it's unfamiliar territory. i don't really even know how to find the people doing meaningful action and reach out to them. there's a lot of broken websites and out of date fb pages, and i don't have a script for getting involved the way i do with politics. do you have any advice or encouragement? thank you in advance if you do answer, your writing has actively made my life better since i found it

Thanks for your question! This stuff is difficult to locate on purpose -- both because of state repression, and because when you are working outside of the existing legal and political system, there are risks to being out in the open about it.

Adjusting to more extra-political (as in, outside of democratic politics) activities is a gradual on-ramp. You will understand the landscape and see greater options the further you go, but it will take some time. A good place to start out is local mutual aid networks. Look up a local Food Not Bombs chapter, for instance. See if there is an anarchist library or leftist publisher near you and attend some events. Check out your local libraries and on-campus groups to see if there are any engaging in actions that you can contribute to. Interface with the local punk scene and see if there are any people there who are really about anarchist action.

Go to a communist reading group. Start one with your friends! Working outside of the mainstream political system means building the kind of world you want to live in and the communities you want rather than being plugged into a pre-existing structure like a cog in the machine.

Talk to your neighbors. Give money and food to homeless people and chat them up. Drop off supplies at protests and encampments. Ask people what they need. As you prove yourself and come to understand your local landscape, you will get invited into more actions or will form the friendships and political education needed to start ones of your own. Break the law for the sake of helping other people when you can. Find rules you can bend or ignore in all things. Avoid the Party for Socialism and Liberation and the Revolutionary Communist Party like the fucking plague. they are cults.

You will find your way. I get more and more radical every year, and figure out a ton of shit I didn't previously understand. It's been at least a decade in the making for me. So don't be too hard on yourself if at first you don't feel like you understand what you are doing or that you are not doing "enough." Electoral politics runs on a constant manufactured sense of urgency and exhaustion. But we are building a world that is better, more loving, slower, and more responsive to the rhythms of the earth and our bodies.

You will be where you need to be. <3

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messedupfan · 9 months

Text

Chapter 10

Summary: Daisy asks Reader a very important question. Wanda decides to join a dating app.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! So happy to finally get this chapter out. Sorry again for the wait. Work has started to get creative for me so it's been hard finding time to write. Lemme know how holidays were for everyone. I'd love to know!! Hope y'all like this chapter! Please like, comment and enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake early Sunday morning to incessant knocking and when Rachel asks what's happening, you tell her to hide in your room and to close the door. Once you're sure she is safe with the click of your bedroom door locking, you try to make a mean face in order to appear intimidating. But as soon as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror you had hanging near the entryway, you shake your head and just prepare yourself to open the door. You're relieved when you see Daisy on the other side but are instantly concerned as the tears on her face register. “What's wrong?” You ask as you step into the hallway of the apartment building, closing the door behind you as you do.

“I'm sorry, Y/n. I messed up and it was so stupid and I'm so sorry,” she sobs with her hands covering her face as she tries to talk.

You put your hands on her shoulders as you try to get her to calm down. “Hey, hey, it's okay. What did you do that you think is so bad?”

She looks down to the floor, not wanting to see the way that you'd look at her when she tells you what she did. “I didn't want you to know about the concert because…” she shakes her head and you hold onto her as you patiently wait for her to tell you what has her so torn up. “Because it was a date with someone else.”

One part of you is surprised by the information but the other isn't. Despite the surprise, there isn't much a piece of you that is upset with her because of it. With the past few months of the two of you dating, neither has put a label on the relationship. But neither of you has been seeing other people so one can assume it's exclusive. Neither of you knew better because you've been avoiding the conversation and she's been too afraid to start the conversation.

You tell her to stop apologizing and pull her into a warm embrace. “It's okay, Daisy,” you assure her again and again until she stops crying. You rub her back to soothe her and eventually she calms down enough to talk properly. “Can I ask why you said yes when he asked you out?” You ask softly so that you can figure out what to say to her and even decide for yourself if you want to continue this relationship any further or let her go. Maybe, just maybe, this is your way out.

She breathes heavily through her mucus clogged nose and wipes her face with the back of her hand as she figures out what to say. You ask her to be completely honest and tell her that the truth won't hurt you. Assuring her that you can handle it. “I um, he and I have always kind of had this flirty friendship dynamic and we've thought about dating each other in the past but we haven't been single at the same time in the same place. I know that you and I have been moving in a good direction but we haven't committed ourselves to each other so I thought it was okay when I said yes. Then we became physical and I started sleeping over and I kept waiting for you to say something but you didn't.” She starts to get worked up again.

“Hold on,” you say as you rub her back. “I understand your thought process, it's okay. I'm not mad at you,” she is able to keep her breathing controlled but the tears still come on strong. “Do you have more to say?” Daisy nods and you help her with breathing exercises in order to continue.

“I just wanted to see if there was something there. Something easier but,” she shakes her head. “All I could think about during the concert was how I wanted you to be there and when he kissed me… I just knew I only wanted you. And that I had to tell you.” She looks at you finally and waits for you to respond or react. You are calm and collected as you process her story. You take a deep breath yourself as you frown and focus on one of her statements.

“I didn't know that things were difficult with me,” you state, confusing Daisy. “You said that you wanted to see if it'd be easier to be with that guy. I didn't know that you saw what we have as something that's not easy. I'm sorry that I've been oblivious to certain struggles.”

Daisy shakes her head, “No that's not… well, it's just… he doesn't have a child and an ex-wife that I have to one day impress. I think about those things, you know?” She explains and you nod, seeing how that could be stressful. “It worries me but it doesn't burden me. I love you and I want to make this work,” the words fall out seamlessly, shocking only you. “I realized that last night,” she wipes her face again with her sleeve this time. You wish you could offer to let her inside to clean up. But it wasn't time for Rachel to meet Daisy yet. You open your mouth to return the words even though you don't mean them and Daisy stops you. “Don't say it back. Not today. I just needed you to know everything as soon as possible. But I understand that you need time to process and you have your daughter here. I um, I should go.” She looks down at her hands as she steps away from you. She walks away without you calling or going after her. You stand silently in front of your door, stunned by her honesty and maturity.

You open the door and sit down on the sofa to relax your mind before you retrieve Rachel from your room. Daisy loves you. She kissed someone else and realized that she loves you. Now you really feel like an awful person. You didn't have the same reaction when you kissed Wanda. You wanted to be with Wanda, but you're settling for Daisy. Does this make you an awful person? You were prepared to tell the girl that you love her, even though you don't feel that way. You haven't told her that you kissed Wanda, and don't plan on it. The list of differences between you and Daisy can go on and on, meaning that at the end of the day, although you aren't in general a terrible person, you are being one to Daisy. You want to end the relationship before it gets worse. But you can't because she said that she loves you. Maybe she'll change her mind soon. Or maybe she won't. You don't know.

What you do know is that you have started to tell others that you and Daisy are a couple except for Daisy. That's where you needed to start first. No one likes feeling like they don't know where they stand with someone. So you decide that you'll stop by her apartment later and ask her to make it official. After you convince Kate to watch Rachel on very last notice first. Which might be tricky since she started hanging out with someone a lot more than usual recently.

“Sorry, honeybunch, it was one of Baba's friends. They're having a hard time and need someone to talk to,” you explain to Rachel as you enter your room. “It's safe to come out,” you tell her when she doesn't say anything. You're about to start to worry until you realize that she is asleep in your bed. You smile as you watch her sleep. She was so precious, so innocent. There are times in your life when you wonder if anything is ever worth it, then you have moments like these that help give a different perspective. She is worth everything to you.

You let her sleep in as you make her a special breakfast. Chocolate pancakes with bacon and an omelet. You don't cook like this often. Mostly because you can be a safety hazard in the kitchen. But you needed the distraction from your mind and you found yourself so lost in the activity that you don’t hear when Rachel enters the kitchen to ask what that smell is. She has to tap your arm and it makes you jump and accidentally elbow her in the forehead.

“Oh I’m so sorry my baby,” you hold her to you as you rub her back. “Are you okay?” You ask as you lower yourself to her level to check the damage that you caused. Which luckily, was nothing. She didn’t even have a mark and she showed no signs of crying. She just rubbed her forehead and complained that it did hurt. “Let me get you something cold to put on it,” you say as you rise up to look for her ice pack in the freezer and find it behind some frozen meat. You quickly dig through the cabinets and drawers to find the cloth pouch that Anna sowed for Rachel for moments like this. “Here you go, I’m sorry again.”

“It’s okay, I’ll feel better in a bit,” she takes the cold pouch from you and holds it to her forehead as she sits down at the kitchen table. “Who was at the door earlier?” She asks as you start to make her a plate, apologizing again as you do. As mentioned before, you can be quite a safety hazard in the kitchen.

“Here you go, I hope you like it,” you set the plate down in front of her and move to the kitchen to serve yourself. Rachel repeats her question a little louder to ensure that you hear it. “Right, sorry, it was just a friend who had an emergency and needed to chat. It wasn't anything serious.” You join her at the table after shutting off the stove top and making a plate for yourself.

Rachel easily moves on from that to talk about her favorite music artist and update you on the latest gossip about her. You don't really remember the previous gossip so you do your best to pretend that you do. Then you talk to her about how she feels about the summer coming to an end soon and she tells you about how excited she is to return now that her and Wanda’s kids are friends. You feel good that she is finally excited about school again. When she was going into kindergarten she couldn't stop talking about how excited she was to start learning and making friends but on her first day a girl in her class spilled apple juice on the front of Rachel's pants and made a big deal about it to the rest of the class. You only thought kids were cruel like that in the movies and hoped that the rest of the class would move on from it and become her friend anyway. But they didn't and each year until the third grade, she was embarrassed in a new way. You and Jean talked with many teachers and administrators and parents, advocating for your sweet daughter but school didn't get much better for her. It got to the point that transferring her seemed like the only option and that's when you got the apartment in this area. To get her into a different school. She had a better start by being introduced as the new girl. After her first day there she wore the biggest smile as she raved about all of the friends she was making. Which up until this summer was only two friends since she was a little more on the shy side.

You just hope that things continue to go well for her. You're also thinking of ways to thank Wanda and her boys for being so kind to Rachel. After the dishes are in the dishwasher, you and Rachel plop yourselves on the couch and you watch whatever show she is fixated on binge watching at the moment. It's entertaining in some moments but others you're just thinking about what you're going to tell Daisy.

You still aren't sure if she fits here with you and Rachel. But then again, you'll never know if you don't try to see it through. The show catches your attention as the girl in the show delivers a sappy monologue about reasons why she loves one character over the other and as you listen closely, the person that you picture is Daisy and you start to wonder if stronger feelings for her have snuck up on you. They're not as intense as feelings you've had for other people but they are there and they have a certain strength to them. You choose not to back down on your earlier decision and text your sister to see if she can stop by to watch Rachel for a few hours. You wanted to get this over with as soon as possible because any more thought and you'll go back to being single and heading nowhere in the love department.

That's not what you wanted. You want to be with Daisy. You might not be head over heels in love with her but you feel some sort of love towards her and that's enough for you. Hopefully, you can make it enough for her as well. Kate takes a bit of time to reply and there's a few messages back and forth with negotiations. It takes ordering pizza with soda and allowing her friend to come with, in order for her to accept babysitting Rachel.

“Hey munchkin, I'm going to go check on my friend for a bit but auntie Kate and her friend Yelena are going to be here and you guys are going to get pizza. Is that okay with you?” You ask as you hand her the snack that you grabbed for her.

“Pizza and auntie Kate?” She asks excitedly. You confirm and she begins to smile. “Are you going on another date with Ms. Wanda?”

You scrunch your eyebrows, thrown off by the absurd question. “Ms. Wanda and I are only friends, sweetheart. You know that. And it's not a date, but I will look a little more dressed up. I'll be back before you go to bed this time too.”

“Okay but if you and Ms. Wanda like-like each other, I will be very okay with it. Just thought you should know,” she says as she finishes her snack. You shake your head and mess up her hair as you call her funny. You have no idea how serious she is.

Kate and her friend arrive after you've showered and dressed as nice as you know how to with the limited options in your closet. You have no clue what you're supposed to wear when you're about to ask someone to be your girlfriend. It's been a long time since you've had to ask that question. The last time that you did, you and Jean had snuck into her neighbors pool in the middle of the night to skinny dip together. Which isn't something you want to repeat as an adult.

You thank Kate again and she tries to pry details from you and you shrug. “Sorry, it wasn't in your list of demands. Better luck next time,” you smile.

“Shoot, you're getting better at this,” she says with her arms crossed over her chest. “Get out of here, you're no fun.” You laugh as you say your goodbyes while you exit.

On the way to Daisy's apartment, you stop by a florist and pick out a bouquet of mostly daisy's. Once you arrive, you rehearse every step to her door exactly what you want to say to her. That you do love her and that you don't want to see anyone but her. That you aren't much of a planner but you want to start talking about a future with her. That you hope she can be introduced to Rachel as your girlfriend when the time is right.

As prepared as you think you'll ever be, you knock on the door and wait a few seconds for an answer. The door swings open and instead of Daisy, it's her roommate Jemma who does not look happy to see you. “What did you do to her? She has been a wreck all day!”

“What?” You ask with concern. “I didn't do anything, I promise. In fact, I came here to ask her a very important question.”

Jemma crosses her arms over her chest and raises a challenging brow as she looks you up and down. “Uh huh, and how do I know you're not here just to hurt her even more?”

“You'll just have to take a leap of faith,” you say softly, there wasn't a lot of time to convince Daisy's friend to believe you. Luckily, she doesn't resist letting you inside much longer. You go to Daisy's room and you can hear the movie that she is watching just outside. It's one of Rachel's favorites because it's one of Jean’s. It's not a kids movie but it was something that Jean wanted to share with her daughter. It's a funny and crude movie that would not survive social media. But it was a guilty pleasure movie and you didn't know that Daisy knew about it.

You knock lightly on the closed door. “Jemma, I told you. I don't need comfort. It's my fault things went bad with Y/n. I shouldn't have gone there in the first place!”

You turn the knob and walk through. “I'm glad that you did.” Daisy looks at you with tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes, shocked to see you here in her room. “It made me realize that I do want more with you.” Holding out the bouquet to her, you step further into the room. You shut the door behind you to give yourselves some privacy. “I know you said that you didn't want to hear these words today but I didn’t need time to think about how I feel about you. Because I know that I love you too.” You say as you lay the flowers at the end of the bed. “And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to ask you this. It just slipped my mind that this is part of the process but, will you be my girlfriend?” As you talk, you get down on both knees in front of the bed and you take her hand in both of yours.

Daisy is speechless as she nods and her entire face lights up as her smile shines brightly. She moves forward and brings you into a sweet kiss. You don’t let your thoughts ruin the moment for you. No thoughts about Wanda. No thoughts about what’s right and what’s wrong. Just her lips on yours and the way she tastes.

She tries to deepen the kiss but you quickly remember that you can’t stay long because you promised your sister that you wouldn’t. Kate and Yelena have plans that you cannot disrupt otherwise she will quote, “have Rachel so sugared up, you won’t get sleep for a week.” Now can she make your child sleepless and hyper for an entire week? No, but you don’t want to risk her trying.

“Hold on,” you pull back. “I can’t stay,” Daisy tries to pull you closer but you continue to resist her advances. “I’m serious,” you say lightly. “I had to make a couple of deals with the devil in order to get here.” She gives you a funny look, “My sister. She’s with Rachel right now and as much as she loves her niece, she isn’t obligated to give up her evenings to take care of her. As she so graciously reminded me.” You give her frown a quick kiss.

“I hate that you have to go, but thank you for not making me suffer for a week before asking me to be your girlfriend.” She giggles in delight, “That’s so funny to say. I’m your girlfriend! I can’t believe it!”

“I like the sound of that,” you grin then you lean in to kiss her again.

Daisy leans away, “Not so fast. You kiss me one more time and I’m not letting you leave.” You laugh as you try to chase her cheek to give her a kiss there at least. The room is filled with laughter and you leave her laughing instead of crying.

~~~~

On Wednesday night, Wanda is feeling a bit lonely. Her messages to Natasha aren’t going through so she’s accepted that the woman most likely blocked her. Then she thinks about inviting you over but she knows that after a hard day of work, the only thing you want to do is spend time with your daughter. She doesn’t ask because she knows that you won’t say no to her when she clearly needs a no. So, she lands on asking Agatha who has a similar custody agreement that she is almost certain she will also enjoy some company. When she sends the message, she decides to send it to the group chat she has with Carol in there as well, just to see if she would like to join.

The two arrive in a timely manner. Each with a bottle of wine so that they can get wine drunk and not make as many poor decisions as they would if they were any other kind of drunk. Wanda is grateful for the company as they all sit together on the sofa in the living room, a half full glass in hand for each of them while they look for something to have on in the background as the group of women catch up. It had been a few weeks since they last hung out. The group usually communicates through text since they live such different lives, but every now and then the stars align and they are able to make time for nights like this.

Carol starts with an update about her and her now fiancé, Val. Which, they have been keeping to themselves until now because the couple didn’t want anyone to rain on their parade. They are very happy with the decision. Plus with Val’s political career, they aren’t sure when they will get married. They’re not even sure if her sexuality will be revealed to the public only because they aren’t sure what that information will do to her campaign. “I’ve accepted that no matter what happens, I’m willing to support her decision. This is her dream and I will be there to support her no matter what. I really love her.” Carol says as she pours a bit more wine in her glass.

Wanda and Agatha congratulate their friend on her engagement and move the topic on to what kind of takeaway they are going to have delivered so that none of them have to drive or cook. When that is settled, Agatha starts to go on and on about how much fun she’s been having on a dating app. “Really? You’ve gotten good dates from that?” Wanda asks skeptically as Agatha swipes pictures on her phone.

Agatha laughs, “Oh honey, this isn’t for dating. It’s just for hookups. At least this app is. I’m not ready to be in another draining relationship.” Agatha was a little bit older than the two girls she is spending her night with. She had fertility issues and didn’t have her son until she was thirty eight. Which was well into a failing marriage. Wanda and Agatha didn’t meet until they were paired up at the kids' school to participate in a fundraiser. They were in trouble for being inactive parents of the school's community so they had to work the raffle ticket booth together. With the lack of parents making donations and buying tickets they had a lot of time to get to know each other. They became fast friends, hosting each other's families for dinners, carpooling when emergencies came up, babysitting to allow either couple date nights. Simple life stuff like that. Wanda introduced Carol and Agatha when Carol came into town and demanded to spend time with Wanda despite Vision’s protests and guilt trips.

Wanda and Agatha went through their divorces around the same time and it helped to have each other to lean on. Now it seems that they are experiencing the modern dating scene together. “Oh, you’re on one of those apps. You have to be careful, I hear that there are married people on those things.”

“Oh I know,” Agatha shares a look with Carol. “Should I show her?”

Carol shakes her head, “We’re not drunk enough yet.”

“What do you mean?” Wanda whips her head back and forth as she is sitting in the middle of her friends. “What can’t you show me?”

Agatha and Carol are silent with smirks as they both take a sip of their wine and although it doesn’t affect them, they decide that it’s enough to show Wanda. “Here,” Agatha says as she opens her phone and finds her screenshots folder. She hands the device to Wanda. “But seriously, don’t talk about it with him. Things are charged enough between the two of you.”

Wanda looks at the phone and nearly drops her glass as she sees a profile of Vision. “Wow, ‘69Machine - because that’s my favorite position’? Oh he is so gross!” She laughs as she shakes her head and takes a long drink from her glass. “That is horrible! Where does he find the time with four kids!” Agatha and Carol laugh and share another look because they’ve been curious about whether or not that statement is true and the only person they can get that information from is Wanda. She almost chokes when they ask and luckily the doorbell rings giving her an escape and allowing her a distraction as she brings the food to them.

Wanda is successful in avoiding the subject as they start to dig into their meals and a plotline on the show they had on piques their interest. The three women quickly become engrossed in the show as they eat and even well after their food is finished they don’t peel their eyes off of the screen until the tv asks if they are still watching right at the big cliffhanger. They are loud as they scramble to find the remote. They are screaming at each other as they are all being stubborn about standing up until Carol and Agatha realize that the only one of them that has stood up is Wanda so they playfully bully her to get up and that’s when Carol finds the remote under her friends butt and she slaps Wanda’s butt cheek with the back of the remote before hitting play.

The reveal on the episode disappoints them and they start talking to each other again. This time about the rumors that they have heard or read about surrounding the actors on the show. Then they each get on their phones to start fact checking and learning more about the actors. This goes on for about an hour before they get bored of it and two bottles of wine are finished. Agatha is the next person to stand announcing that she needs a bathroom break. Wanda follows and Carol gets up to get another drink.

Another two bottles later, Wanda confesses to the two that she had a fling with a woman but doesn’t give more details than that. Agatha and Carol are a little surprised because they didn’t know about her fluid sexuality. But they didn’t make the whole thing about that. Instead, they focus on why Wanda is talking about it now.

“I don’t know,” Wanda shakes her head and tops her glass off with the rest of the bottle. “I don’t know. I just, I liked having sex with no strings attached. I didn’t know that I liked having sex that much until well, she was very good at what she did.” She shares a laugh with her friends. “Okay, but seriously. I don’t want something serious with someone. I just want to get…” she starts to snicker to herself and her friends know where it’s going.

All three in almost perfect unison, almost meaning not at all but they think it is perfect, “Let’s get physical! Physical!”

“Oh, we need music!” Carol hops up and goes to set up her phone to the sound system in the house.

“Let me see your phone,” Agatha says to Wanda and the woman hands her the device without much question and any protest.

“Don’t play it too loud, Carol! I don’t need noise complaints!” Wanda shouts as she watches Agatha download and app onto her phone. “Okay, what are you doing?” She asks as Agatha starts going through her camera roll, picking out the most flattering pictures of Wanda.

“I’m signing you up on a dating app,” Agatha says as she starts to fill out the profile. Wanda tries to grab the phone to stop her but Agatha moves away from her. “Don’t worry, it’s not one that Vision will see you on. I have a profile on this one too.” Wanda tries to stop her again but Carol asks what she missed in as she rejoins her friends after turning on her playlist.

“Oh my goodness! Yes! And we should see how many matches you get. You’re a catch Wands, this app will prove it,” Carol says as she sits next to Agatha to help her with the profile.

“Fine! But I’m deleting it in the morning,” Wanda says as she rises. She grabs a trash bag from the kitchen and brings it to the living room to start cleaning up. She never likes to leave a mess. Especially after the last few years when she was nothing but a mess.

“Yeah, yeah,” Carol waves her friend off. “Oh I’m as gay as they come but damn he is cute!” Carol gushes as she starts swiping on the profiles.

“Hey, this was my idea! I should get to swipe too!” Agatha whines like a child as she takes the phone back to start swiping. Carol is about to fight for the phone back when her eyes widen. Agatha starts laughing as she sees what her friend sees. “Screenshot it! You have too!”

“What?” Wanda asks as she drops the bag to see what the big deal is. “Oh, wow.” The friends gather around the phone to look at the profile and before Wanda can dislike the profile, Carol swipes right. “Carol! No!” Carol runs away and Wanda chases her around the house with one of her throw pillows. Meanwhile, her phone goes off in Agatha’s hands with many match notifications.

The next morning, Wanda takes care of her and her friends' hangovers early in the morning before they have to start their days. Wanda checks her phone once her friends have left her house and she smiles as she sees a message from you that says, “Thank you for reminding me that I had an account on here. I forgot I was also paying a subscription for it. That explains the missing ten a month. I’ll delete it once you let me know that you got this message.” Wanda bites her lip as she thinks about why you messaged her from the dating app and not through text. But she can’t help the warm feeling she gets when she sees the “It’s a match!” banner at the top of the screen.

“What are friends for?” She types back after she takes a screenshot. Just to keep for herself.

She gets ready to delete the app herself until she notices all of the options that she has available to her. She decides that maybe she should keep the app a little bit longer as she walks up to her home office, sipping her coffee and scrolling through the messages.

Chapter 11

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bloodlessbelmounte · 9 days

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Eternity Will Bring You Near - Chapter 3

Masterlist

Summary:

Wade understood that Logan was from a world where Alpha, Beta and Omega were everyday terms, not exclusive to red-pilled incel fuckheads who kept inventing new performative male genders. Wade would’ve been classified as a Beta. Logan, however, was an Alpha - Wade’s read enough fanfiction and yaoi manga to know what that means. Though it doesn’t explain why Logan keeps sniffing him.

Pairing: Alpha!Worst Wolverine/Deadpool Genre: A/B/O, Smut, Domestic-ish Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Scent kink, Praise kink, Biting, Blow Job, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Orgasm Denial, Feral-ish Logan. Let me know if there's any I missed.

Beginning Note: Sorry for the delay folks, when I started writing this chapter I got ill, then just as I recovered the school holidays ended and it was time for me to go back to work AND THEN I got a fucking migraine that lasted FOUR DAYS! I've altered Logan's dialogue so he has a more defined voice. As like last chapter, I'm sorry for any mistakes, I'll no doubt find them over the next week or so. Again I didn't want to subject my partner to my smut writing.

Cross posted to AO3

Logan sat on his bed, tossing a little spherical gadget from one hand to the other in consideration. Wade had somehow strong armed Hank into making the zone isolation device. He shuddered at the thought of what kind of blackmail the merc had on Beast. It had been finished in time for the patchwork family to move into a rather spacious four bed apartment. And it had come in handy a few times already as Wade was making full use of having privacy and an en-suite. Though despite all their… activities Wade had still been apprehensive about going all the way. Logan wasn’t surprised he was intimidated so they took things at his pace. He wished that he had all the time in the world to break Wade in, however, he could feel the restless itch under his skin.

Rut was approaching.

He had completely lost track of it. Of course, he had no suppressants to deal with it because, as he’s come to know through living with the merc, Wade’s executive dysfunction was atrocious. He had no one but himself to blame for leaving the task up to the ADHD asshole. Which left him in his current predicament – how to deal with it. He didn’t want Wade to feel obligated to help him. It wouldn’t exactly be a walk in the park for the man. So what did that leave him with? Shut himself in the spare room with this device and try to wait it out with herculean restraint? Didn’t seem feasible with how Wade’s sweet scent had been a lot stronger lately, less of an undercurrent and more of the main note. It was like he was perpetually horny or something. Should Logan find a cabin in the woods somewhere so he’s away from temptation? Who knew what trouble Wade would land himself in with his absence. Either way, booking the time off work on such short notice was going to be a nightmare.

Logan stood with a growl, features set in a scowl, and placed the device back in it’s stand on top of Wade’s bedside table. It’s not on his due to the amount of desk lamps that had been victim to his nightmares (and sometimes orgasms, folks. Peanut has claws when he’s very happy too but you already knew that). There wouldn’t be a replacement for the gadget so it remained on Wade’s side. He had about three days to get this shit figured out if his usual cycle was to be accounted for. Jesus, he was going to have to discuss it with Wade, wasn’t he? He needed a smoke.

He left the bedroom and made his way to the fire escape outside the hallway window. He wasn’t allowed to smoke inside the apartment building so he had set up a little smoking area out there. Fuck walking up to the roof every time he needed a cig. Which was more frequent since Wade replaced all the alcohol in their home with Dr Pepper, a drink that seemed to be his new addiction after he cut out cocaine for “our darling daughters’ sakes”. Althea had also been cut off as collateral, the poor woman was experiencing withdrawal the likes he’d never seen before. He picked a cigar from the box which was situated on the window ledge, lit it and took a drag.

Laura was currently attending evening classes at one of the local high-schools as the girl didn’t exactly get a formal education. The older mutant had wanted to send her to Westchester as a day student but Wade adamantly disagreed. He wouldn’t open up as to why but Laura had also agreed not going was for the best. The two of them shared conversations in Spanish which frustrated Logan to no end because they knew he didn’t understand the language. Those two knew something he didn’t and the scent of unease from them whenever it was bought up really perturbed him.

Wade should be home any minute now. As improbable as it seemed to Logan, the merc could in fact hold down a nine-to-five job as much as he seemed to loathe the dealership. Speak of the devil, the jangling of keys being slid into the lock alerted Logan to his… partner’s(?) return. He could smell Wade’s sweetness over the cigar smoke despite the distance. Something had got the man going it seemed. A bloodied Wade strutted through into the apartment, his clothes all askew but a triumphant smile on his face. At least the blood didn’t smell like his. So whatever happened, Wade hadn’t been the one to get hurt. The older mutant couldn’t help the fond quirk of his lips at that realisation. When he spotted Logan out through the window, he sauntered over and ambled through. Wade took the cigar from between his lips and gave him a quick peck, taking a drag before placing it right where it belonged.

“How was your shift at the workshop?” Wade asked, leaning against the side rail.

“Still have clients confusing me with Howlett,” Logan grunted in response, “Doesn’t help that I’m still not used to being called James-”

“Or that your name badge on those cute oversized overalls of yours says Logan,” Wade interrupted with a teasing grin.

Logan rolled his eyes and waved his hand from Wade’s head downwards, “What’s with the blood?”

“Came across some fuckheads trying to kidnap some boy. No older than elementary school age I’d wager. Lucky for him, I always have Baby Knife on me. Unlucky for them though. One has his organs spilling in some alleyway now dying slowly, the others had a much quicker end.” Wade unsheathed Baby Knife from God knows where and started stabbing and slicing at thin air as he spoke. He seemed… happy. Excited even. Logan hadn’t seen so much life in Wade (outside the bedroom) since he resumed work. It looked good on him. “I think I might quit the dealership and go back to mercenary work. For the right price and only those who are deserving, of course.”

“Anything to get y’to stop wearing that God awful toupee,” Logan taunted, reaching to pluck the staples out of Wade’s scalp to remove the affront to his eyes. “How soon can y’quit?”

“It’s a hair system you insensitive cunt. Because the author is British I can get away with saying that. And its courtesy to give two weeks notice, but when have I ever cared about corporate bureaucracy bullshit. I can quit tomorrow.” Wade shrugged.

“Good… good. There’s, uh, something I need to talk to y’about-”

“If you’re breaking up with me you could have told me before I kissed you.”

“What? No. I’m not breaking up with y’moron. I’m going to be going into Rut soon. Usually lasts about a week, was thinking of shutting myself away for that time. I need y’to be on y’best behaviour.”

Wade cocked his head to the side, would-be-brows furrowed and a tinge of bitter bewilderment wafting over, “Wouldn’t… wouldn’t you want me to join you?”

Logan heaved a sigh, took his cigar in one hand and rubbed his face with the other, “Yes I would like y’to join me. But I know y’not mentally ready for what that entails and I don’t want y’to feel pressured.”

“But I’ve been getting specialist training from a Wolvie who has exceedingly talented fingers. I’m ready.” Wade waggled his brows at the older man.

“Ready for a week straight of getting y’ass railed?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time. Actually do. That’ll really get me in the mood.”

“There’d be little to no breaks except for food, water and bathroom.” Logan warned.

“Honey Badger, for my mug to resemble a shaved ballsack I had to be tortured – while terminally ill – for a month straight. Got pressure washed while buck naked; used as a punching bag by a big buff bitch with super strength, electrocuted, held under some sort of oily shit repeatedly, sealed in an ice bath until my lips turned purple and the coup de gras: locked in an oxygen deprivation tank over the course of two days where I was bought to the point of suffocation again and again but never given the sweet reprieve of unconsciousness.” Wade mimed out his experiences, seemingly not noticing Logan’s very concerned look. “If that didn’t prepare me for a week of fucking a sexy Alpha, then that fight in the Odyssey certainly did.”

Wade’s ability to casually trauma dump as a joke would never cease taking Logan by surprise. Sure, he had heard some people deal with it through humour but to that extent? No that didn’t seem normal.

“It’ll be intense but Jesus fuck, I’m not going to torture y’, Wilson.”

“Oh, last name that means you’re serious. Look I was just trying to say I can take anything you give me.” Wade bought his hand up to rest on Logan’s bicep, squeezing gently to try and comfort.

Logan growled, “Are y’sure it’s what you want?”

“Yes! How many ways can I say it? The author is running out! Give Belmounte (read: Belmont) a break and just accept my company already. I’m ready to graduate to the danger cucumber.”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at Wade’s ridiculous euphemism, slouching back against the rails and blowing smoke, “Fine, I need to get a few things sorted out first but we’ll be heading off in three days.”

“Heading off? But we have the Sound Bubble-inator.” He made a round shape with his hands.

“My instincts will be running wild. I’d rather not risk anyone getting caught in the cross fire.”

Wade’s mouth dropped into an ‘O’ as he nodded. In a rare case, the younger man opted to not continue that path of conversation. Instead he chose to prattle on about his day at work and how he was very close to convincing Peter to just give them a Honda Odyssey. They passed the cigar between them, Logan grunting every now and again at points to show he was still listening. Once the cigar was finished, the remains were stubbed out and flicked off into the trash below.

They climbed back into the apartment. Logan got started on making dinner while Wade joined Althea on the sofa who had been listening to the radio. Sure, Wade had the ability to cook, in fact he was a pretty good one but Logan’s instincts were nagging him to provide and show off desirable skills. Something that he hadn’t experienced in a while, not since… The alcohol and suppressants had done their job in numbing him and now he was sans both.

Alright alright alright, my turn! We’ve spent one-thousand-and-sixty-three words on Logan’s introspection. I’m trying not to be offended by the fact you started without me. I’ll put that down to poor decision making due to your illness. Time to give the people what they paid for in souls as well as blood and virgin sacrifices – me.

Wade, I know asking you not to be sassy is a lot for you, but please my brain is barely functioning. Let me write.

Ah, my bad. Take your time. Let those meds fuel you.

Thank you.

That evening, Wade sent Peter a text:

[Yo Sugar Bear, I’m gonna be quitting tomorrow. Think you could swing me that Honda as a leaving prezzie?]

[Going back to the suit? Always knew you would.]

Oh you should have seen the look on his manager’s face when he handed them a used napkin with ‘I QUIT’ scribbled in Neon Pink crayon with unicorns doodled around it. He had skipped out of that office as they shouted for him to come back. Peter had almost handed his notice in too but Wade had argued he needed the steady income if he was going to sustain a relationship with his wife and B-15. Yeah, a lot of people forgot Peter was married in the second Deadpool film. And that he was a bee keeper. Shame on you for forgetting. Anyway, Wade left DriveMax in a brand new second-hand Honda Odyssey that day. Just in time for Logan’s little get away he was planning.

The following days were a hectic blur of making sure everything would be okay in their absence. A large scale shop was done to make sure Laura, Blind Al and Mary Puppins would have enough food and the basics of other household necessities. Vanessa had agreed to check in on the girls in the evenings. A walking schedule was devised for Mary as well as a shit duty rota. And the packing! My God, trying to get a moment away from Logan so he could pack some secret surprises into his Hello Kitty duffle bag was an unexpected challenge.

The afternoon before Logan’s rut was predicted to start, the older man had corralled Wade out the door with a hurried farewells to the apartment’s other occupants. Apparently they would be driving through the afternoon and into the late evening to whatever location Logan had planned; who had called his boss that morning claiming a family emergency and that he would be out of town for just over a week whilst things get sorted. Small businesses like independent mechanic workshops can be hit or miss about things like sickness and emergencies, luckily for them – this one was a hit. And so into the Honda they went, with Logan driving of course, on a journey to some mysterious place where they hopefully won’t be disturbed. RIP to whatever poor soul stumbled upon them if Logan had decided on camping.

Eight hours.

Eight fucking hours of being sat in that car.

Obviously there were pit-stops to piss and eat but by Marvel Jesus, Wade could not stand long car journeys. You saw how he was in the Void. Imagine that but worse. He couldn’t keep still for the life of him. However, Logan had seemingly planned for this as he took the first traffic light as an opportunity to reach over and open the passenger glove compartment and hand Wade a Nintendo Switch. So the old dog did know about modern tech. Though arguably some might not consider the Switch to be ‘modern’ as it was now eight years old. Outdated in today’s world of extreme consumerism. Anyway, he must have stashed it in there the night before, which would explain why Wade had not been able to find it. But with it being just a Switch and not an OLED (God he hated half step releases, they reeked of money grabbing) the battery only lasted about four hours before it died. That was why he was ever so glad for smartphones and their doom scrolling time sinks.

Another hour and a half later, he was genuinely surprised when Canadian boarder patrol asked for their passports. Wade had turned to Logan in shock, jaw hanging open and eyes wide.

“Your taking us back to the motherland?” Wade squealed. Fucking squealed like a girl excited to receive flowers on prom night.

The fucker just gave him a crocked smile and handed their Canadian passports over to the officer who had been staring at the merc. Which didn’t go unnoticed by the pair.

“Do you often stare at injured veterans?” Wade reprimanded, glaring at the officer who quickly looked over their passports and handed them back.

“S-sorry, sir. W-welcome back,” the man stuttered with a salute before stepping back to let them through.

“Asshole,” Logan muttered, as he drove by. His hand reached for Wade’s thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. It remained for the rest of the journey unless Logan had to change gears.

It would be another two and a half hours until Logan pulled up in front of a lone rustic looking log cabin surrounded by golden woodland that occupied one of the shorelines of Lac Chapleau in Quebec. It was dark outside, almost pitch black. Stepping out of the car, the autumn chill greeted him as Wade stretched and joints popped in satisfying release from being cooped up for so long. Mid back stretch, he was distracted by the sheer beauty of the sky as his spine bowed backwards. How long had it been since he had last seen the stars? Had he ever even seen the glory of the Milky Way before? Like iridescent glitter and metallic purple watercolour on black card framing the full moon. Or Van Gogh’s Starry Night. This must have been what the skies looked like back then. Wade turned to look out onto the calm waters of the lake, a mirror reflecting the star-field above.

Putting those Poetry modules you did in uni to good use I see.

Well, Prose Poetry was my highest marked piece and I was the only one in my class who tackled it after the lecturer said it was hard.

Finally! Some confidence from you.

“Y’okay, Bub? You’ve been staring at the lake all quiet while I’ve unloaded the car.” Logan asked, concern lacing his voice as he place a hand on Wade’s shoulder.

“I was considering skinny dipping in it with you. But that’s too much like the lead up to Edward and Bella’s first sexy time in Breaking Dawn part one.” The merc’s nose scrunched up in distaste. No way was he ever going to replicate that dumpster fire.

Logan turned Wade to face him, scowling utterly confused, “The fuck are y’on about?”

“You know, the Twilight Saga? Team Edward vs Team Jacob? The pentalogy of sparkly vampire films? Teenage girls fantasising about Robert Pattinson and his airbrushed abs that caused him body dysmorphia?” Logan stared at him, still scowling but eyes blank. Not even a hint of recognition in those caramel pools of his. “Come on, it started off as a book series dreamt up by a sexually repressed mormon woman and was really popular in the late naughties early tens.”

“Never heard of it. If it was that popular the girls would have told me about it.” Logan deadpanned.

Oh. Yeah. He would have been at the mansion then. So if Kitty, Rogue or Jubilee didn’t watch it then-

“Holy shit! Your universe doesn’t have Twilight! Maybe that’s where your timeline started to go tits up. Either Stephanie Meyer got the dicking down of her life before she could have wet vampire dreams about Henry Cavil or she was hit by a bus.”

Logan rolled his eyes and walked past Wade towards the lake, shrugging off his leather jacket and pulling his t-shirt over his head. When he realised the younger man wasn’t following him, he glanced over his shoulder at him.

“We doing this or what, Princess?”

Wade was quick to follow suit, stripping off as he jogged after Logan, stumbling when he tried to hurriedly fling off his shoes and shuck his bottoms. Logan, on the other hand, was in no such rush by the looks of it. He took his time to remove the layers that covered his lower half to create a tantalising trail to the water’s edge, where he stood waiting for his companion in all his naked glory, haloed by moonlight. God what a sight. Wade swore he would never get used to it. Sure he had been down bad for Logan’s rippling cumgutter abs but this, with his hard angles mellowed out into soft curves – nourished and flourishing like well maintained garden – nothing could compare. These past few months had certainly been kind to the older mutant and Wade was certainly appreciating the view as his cock twitched in interest.

Wade blinked a couple times and shook his head, now was not the time to get distracted. Stupid unmedicated ADHD. Once he joined Logan, they waded (hehe) into the lake. Wade yelped at the initial caress of nippy freshwater, the brisk autumn night air doing nothing to help him acclimate and everything to send his balls rocketing upwards into himself. Logan chuckled and dragged Wade further into the water with a playful smile until they were chest deep.

Wade shuddered as his body heat was leached out, teeth chattering. “O-o-okay, thi-this wwwwasn’t my f-f-finest idea.”

Logan – that furry fuck – seemed utterly unbothered by the water’s lack of warmth. Probably a part of his mutation.

He drew Wade into him, wrapping his arms around the other’s slim waist as they faced each other, “What’s the matter Darlin’, water too cold? A little hypothermia won’t kill y’.”

Wade plastered himself to Logan, trying to absorb his warmth and eliminate any space that would prevent that, “I-it’d k-k-kill the mmmmood.”

Logan hummed in agreement which Wade felt vibrate in his chest, nuzzling a textured scarred cheek with his nose, “We can’t have that now, can we?”

Not waiting for a response, comparably fervid lips captured Wade’s frigid ones. The was no urgency behind it as Logan’s hands travelled, caressing and coaxing warmth wherever they lingered. Wade’s fingers weaved and tangled into Logan’s hair, which had also grown out a bit to create extra fluffy tufts he loved to tug. Especially in these situations. Hands on his thighs lifted him, making him squeal and wrap his legs around Logan to settle on his hips. He could feel Lil Logan already at half mast against his ass. Ever the tease, Wade ground against him. Logan growled in response and nipped at his lower lip, his hands travelled upwards to cup and squeeze Wade’s rump. Wade laved at the seam of Logan’s mouth, seeking and gaining entry with a breathy whine.

And then they were moving, the inky waters receding as Logan sauntered out from it’s depths. Wade broke away, panting for breath. His hands flew to Logan’s shoulders, nails biting into the skin there and he clung to him. Moans spilled from his lips as every stride caused his cock to rub deliciously against the other man’s stomach and Logan’s now fully hardened member to thrust into the cleft of his ass. He buried his face in Logan’s neck, mouth watering at the scent of pine trees, cigars, sandalwood and something musky that was distinctly him. Maybe it was sharing a room or just how much time Wade spent trying to be as close as possible to the older mutant but it had become unmistakable – Wade could smell him. And he liked it. It gave him the warm fuzzies. Fuck, it made him feel safe. Like Logan was home. Wade mouthed at Logan’s throat, tongue catching the sweat forming there, he felt Logan’s grip on him tighten and his pleased rumble.

The door clicked open and slammed shut behind them, wet feet padding against hardwood floors until Logan reached his destination. He sat at the foot of the bed, hands coming to rest at Wade’s hips. Wade unwrapped his legs from around the Alpha to comfortably cage him between them instead.

“Lean back for me, Princess. Let me get a good look at y’.” Logan murmured into his ear, an involuntary shiver ran down Wade’s spine.

Wade immediately braced himself on Logan’s thighs, back arching slighting to put his chest on display like he had done many times before now to the point it was almost instinctual. Heat spread up his neck and into his cheeks. Wade bit back any self depreciating comments and the need to hide himself, already knowing that doing so would have him over Logan’s lap with stinging ass cheeks and a denied release. And as much as Wade loved those moments, he did not have the patience for it at that moment.

“That’s my good boy.” Logan purred appreciatively, eyes roving over the offering before him.

Pre leaked from Wade’s tip like a broken faucet at the praise. One of Logan’s hands traced a path up from his hip to his chest to thumb over a hardened nipple. Wade jolted at the sensation because somehow Logan had actually trained his nipples into being more sensitive and he swore they had gotten a little bigger too. That fucker must’ve had some sort of healing factor override cheat code or something. Wade hadn’t realised his eyes had fallen shut until a sudden heat enveloped his other nipple and he keened at Logan’s tongue flicking over the nub. And when those fangs scraped over the delicate skin there, Wade rutted desperately against him.

“Fuck. Logan. Need you. Hurry the fuck up.” Wade moaned wantonly.

The Alpha grumbled but acquiesced to the demand with a tap to Wade’s thigh. Wade shuffled off him and watched as Logan got up and unzipped a backpack to search through it. Once he had located what he wanted – lube – he returned to the bed but settled closer to the headboard.

“C’mere, Bubba.”

Wade crawled up the bed and sat on his knees beside Logan who sat back slightly reclined, “How do you want me?”

Logan gave him a crooked grin and manhandled the slightly taller man into position over him, scarred cock level with his face, “Right here.”

Without waiting for Wade’s response, Logan lapped up the trail of precum that was still leaking from Wade’s tip.

“Oh fuck!” Wade cried out, bucking forward and grasping onto the headboard. “Give a gal some warning, Honey Badger.”

Logan chortled and continued to lave at Wade’s dick, tracing scars and veins alike as it twitched under his attentions. Logan’s tongue had a roughness to it that most people probably wouldn’t like. But Wade wasn’t most people and that wet muscle had a way of catching on places that had him gasping and whimpering like a bitch. The only warning Logan gave him before swallowing his length was a lap at his slit, then his tongue flattened and he was taking him down to the base. The wooden bed frame protested under Wade’s grip as he fought the urge to thrust into the inviting heat. Logan hummed in approval as he set to work bobbing his head and Wade cussed, moaning and shuddering, as the sensation went right through him.

A slick finger circled Wade’s rim before slowly pushing in and began thrusting. Wade stiffened, torn between trying to stay still, rutting into the heavenly wet warmth of Logan’s mouth or grinding back into the finger working him open. Make that fingers as a second one soon joined the first and started scissoring him open. This bit always stung slightly but Wade was a sucker for a bit of pain with his pleasure. As if sensing his thoughts, Logan lightly bit down on the cock in his mouth, fangs digging in and drawing droplets of blood that made Wade mewl while Logan groan beneath him. It wasn’t much longer till he was loose enough for a third finger to slip in. Wade hissed at the intrusion which melted into a moan when Logan struck his prostate with targetted precision.

“Holy shit, there! Right there!”

Logan smiled around his cock, never once missing the sensitive bundle once he had found it. And with that, Wade’s restraint crumbled, his hips rocking back onto the Alpha’s thick fingers and forwards into his throat. Logan choked around him at the unexpected motion. The sudden tightening had Wade right on the precipice of climax, heat roiling low in his stomach. Once. Twice. Thr- Wade choked back a sob as the hand on his hip swiftly gripped his cock like a vice, the heat of Logan’s mouth removed in favour of sucking marks into the diverts of his abs.

“Not yet. Y’d been doing so well. Y’ll cum on my cock like a good little Omega.” Logan growled out, voice low and rough, “I want y’to ride me while I can still be nice.”

Someone call a plumber because as if his cock couldn’t get any wetter, Wade swore to god he felt his hole become slicker around Logan’s fingers like he was an actual Omega. But that wasn’t possible so it was probably just his imagination.

“Fuck- Sure. Yeah. Get comfy then. Gonna rock your world, old man.”

Logan pulled his fingers out to swat his ass. Again, Wade clambered off him to let him reposition. When he was led down and settled, Wade grabbed the lube, squirting a liberal amount into his hand. He threw his leg over Logan and reached his lubed hand beneath him to spread it onto Logan’s neglected dick. It twitched in his grip as Logan groaned at the contact. Wade gave him a few quick pumps to watch him squirm and make sure he was all slicked up then lined him up with his hole. He knew he had it right when he felt the bulbous tip catch his rim. Slowly, Wade sunk down onto Logan’s length, breath catching in his throat at the burning stretch. No amount of fingering could ever have truly prepared him for just how thick Logan was. Beneath him, Logan had gone rigid, jaw clenched tight and white-knuckling the sheets as it was his turn to show restraint, to let Wade set the pace. His pupils were blown wide, eyes never leaving from where they were connected. Low grunts and groans escaping him with every shallow thrust Wade made to work his way down.

“Logan, please I need- please you have to-” Wade whined, desperately needing something to take the edge of.

Logan understood what Wade was trying to say. He spat into his hand and wrapped it around Wade’s cock, thumbing at the slit to spread the precum there. Wade moaned softly and Logan seemed to take that as the okay to do two things. First, to start stroking Wade’s cock in time with his rocking. Second, to bend his knees so his feet were flat on the bed so he could better angle his hips. Wade choked out a cry as Logan’s cock rubbed against his prostate.

“Jesus! H-how are you s-so good at finding the on switch?”

Logan huffed out a laugh, “When you been around for two hundred years, you learn a thing or two.”

The duel sensations were pleasurably distracting enough that Wade was able to take in more and more with each roll of his hips. And when his ass became flush with Logan’s thighs he stilled. Fuck he was so full. Taking a moment to catch his breathe and get used to the feeling of an actual dick being inside him. He could feel Logan warm and twitching. Very different from the solid, cold, unyielding silicone of a strap. Logan’s hand fell away from Wade’s cock to fist the sheets again.

“Fuck, Princess, y’re so fucking tight.” Logan grunted.

“Am I tight or is your monster cock just stretching me to capacity?” Wade giggled.

Logan’s hands flew up to Wade’s waist, gripping it tightly as he bucked up beneath him punching a breathy ah from him.

“Fuckin’ hell. Don’t- Don’t laugh when I’m in y’.”

Wade leant forwards, bracing his hands on Logan’s pecs to experimentally roll his hips again. Both men groaned at the sensation. Didn’t burn any more, just a tolerable sting. Easily ignored if Logan’s cock kept abusing his prostate like that. With that in mind, Wade began to bounce on the cock impaling him in earnest. Wanton mewls and keening whines tumbled from Wade’s lips, each cant of his hips sending ripples of bliss up his spine and into his cock that slapped against his stomach with every motion. Logan looked tortured beneath him, still trying not to move, his eyes squeezed shut and his head kicked back, exposing a rather appetising vein in his neck.

The problem of being a first time dick rider was the lack of endurance. You see, riding uses different leg muscles to ploughing, or at the very least uses them differently. Wade’s thighs were already throbbing and sore from exertion. But he couldn’t throw in the towel yet. He switched between bouncing, rolling and swivelling his hips, drawing a symphony of groans, grunts and growls from the man beneath him. Felt his nails break the skin where he clutched at him. How much longer would it take for his resolve to break?

“Not much of an hahAlpha are ya? Just laying there mhm taking what I give you,” Wade taunted, chest heaving.

Logan’s eyes snapped open, glaring at the man currently literally and metaphorically riding his dick. He snarled as he batted Wade’s arms off him, sending him tumbling into him. He hastily rolled them over, pinning Wade beneath him and hooking one of his legs over his shoulder. Thank fuck this was a Queen size bed.

“Y’asked for it y’fuckin brat,” Logan warned.

He pulled out until just the tip remained then thrust back into the hilt, Wade arched his back trying to meet him thrust for thrust. God it was so worth teasing him and he was thankful for his flexibility as it meant he could pull Logan down into a heated kiss whilst being bent in half. Each of Logan’s ruts was met with a buck from Wade, falling into a rhythm that had them panting into each others mouths. A particularly hard thrust had Wade clawing at his back, heat pooling low in his gut yet again. He tried to reach between them to jerk himself off but his hand was slapped away.

“PleasePleasePlease let me hah cum. Need to cum. Fuck!” Wade begged.

Logan smirked down at him not stopping or slowing, “What did I say?” he demanded.

“To- hng to be a good Omega and c- ah cum on your cock,” Wade responded weakly, yelping when Logan tweaked one of his nipples.

“So what are y’gonna do?”

“B-be good and ah cum on my Alpha’s-”

Logan’s eyes glazed over, nostrils flaring as he suddenly bore down on him, sinking his teeth into the meat of Wade’s neck. Wade screamed as he came, pain and pleasure dancing through his veins to creating an intoxicatingly raw delirium. Tears running unbidden as his body writhed. Logan clamped down harder, growling as he seemed to enter a frenzy, setting a brutal pace that would’ve been sure to break anyone else. Oversensitivity was fast making itself known to Wade, his hole clenching around Logan’s cock with each pass of his prostate.

“C’mon Pean-uh-t, cum inside me. Knock me up with ah whole litter of Wolvies.”

That did it. Logan stilled above him, cock buried deep and shooting into him in spurts. Every now and then Logan would go to pull out only to push back in, more warmth covering his insides. How much could he fucking cum? And Christ on a bike, this was without knotting. Eventually, Logan released him from between his jaws and let his leg slide off his shoulder. Wade idly played with his hair as he waited for the Alpha to calm down.

“So, my Honey Badger has a thing for breeding ey? I’ll keep that in mind.”

Logan heaved a sigh and finally rolled off him, “You stay here, I’m gonna grab our clothes then get something to clean you up with.”

He made his way off the bed and towards the door.

“I thought you said there’d be no breaks.”

Logan shot him a grin, “Oh we’re just getting started, Princess. The real fun begins tomorrow.”

Finally! We arrived at PoundTown via the penetration express! I’d like to thank everyone who made this possible: The virgins who were sacrificed, the souls that were sold, Satan, my mum-

And I’m feeling better. Only took me like nearly twenty days to write this between illness and being back at work T^T

There, there dear author. You’re nearly done with this chapter.

What do you mean “nearly done”? I’m done here. Nothing more to add to this one.

Oh hell no. You can’t write about Peanut being in rut and not even show us the actual rut!

Fine. You actually made a good point there. Time skip.

Day three of Logan’s rut was interesting. See Wade thought it’d be a waste to be in such a scenic location and not fuck outdoors and under the stars. There was just one problem: a Peanut in rut was a nonverbal Peanut reduced to growling, grunting and purring. Yes, purring. So he couldn’t exactly discuss the idea with the other mutant. Which left him one option. As Logan lay sated on blood and cum stained sheets, Wade grabbed his duffle bag slunk off into the bathroom. Buried near the bottom was the little surprise he put together. Lingerie he had made to resemble his suit – complete with an altered mask which had an accessible mouth hole. Even some stylish chunky heeled boots. He slid the garments on as quickly as possible, he only had a limited amount of time before Logan would try to pin him down again, which was something he was counting on. ‘Geared’ up, Wade mentally went over his plan.

This was going to be fun.

Wade crept out of the bathroom and towards one of the windows, praying to all that was holy that he would successfully get his head start. He held his breathe as he pushed up a window, willing it to remain silent. But the window was a traitorous thing, squeaking in protest as it reached the top to alert Logan’s super hearing. Logan, who was now sat up, hackles raised and on guard for a possible intruder. Seeing that it was only Wade, the somewhat feral Alpha paused, head cocking to the side as he assessed the other man and his choice of clothing. Wade shot him a playful grin and a wave before diving out the window and high tailing it into the surrounding woodland. He dodged and weaved between trees, leapt over roots, logs and shrubbery alike. He had to get as far as possible before-

A roar came from the cabin he had left behind inciting birds to take flight and any other animals in the area to flee. Was that a moose he could see galloping away? Wade’s heart pounded in his chest, he could hear the crackling of dead leaves under foot and sounds of Logan giving chase. His danger boner was raging at the thought of being hunted like prey. He could just make out an ideal clearing for what the Brits called dogging when he was tackled into a tree. There, caging him in, was a naked annoyed growly Logan with fangs bared. Fuck that’s hot. But Wade was here to get fucked, not disembowelled. To placate him, Wade tilted his head to the side exposing the length of his neck.

“Just wanted some fresh air, Wolvie. Not trying to leave. Don’t worry.”

Logan leaned in and nosed at the offered flesh, breathing in deeply before giving a low rumbling purr. His hands landed on scarred thighs, hoisting them up around his waist then travelled back up them to pull Wade’s panties to the side. Wade’s breathe hitched as Logan’s cock slid home inside him, still stretched and full of cum from their previous romp. But it seemed all was not forgiven as Logan tightly gripped his hips and with a snikt released his claws into the poor tree behind them, barely missing Wade himself. If Wade had been caged in before, now he was imprisoned with no escape.

The merc slung his arms around Logan’s neck and let his head fall back against the tree trunk. Logan fucked up into him at a dizzying pace, drawing curses and moans that were cut short as the Alpha took full advantage of the mouth hole to seal his mouth shut with his own. The bark dug into his back, pricking his skin and creating welts across its length as Logan used what little leeway he had to pull Wade down to meet his thrusts. Wade’s legs tightened around his waist, heels digging into his ass to encourage him impossibly closer. Logan angled his hips in just the way Wade was quickly learning to love, the way that had him hammering his on switch till he was a drooling teary mess.

Wade might not have been a natural bottom when this relationship started, but he sure as hell was now.

Oh you cock/clit tease! You’re ending the chapter there?!

Unlike you, I’m not a fictional character and I need to sleep since I have work in the morning.

#deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #deadpool #deadclaws

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adventuringblind · 1 year

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Drive With You Forever

Chapter 7.5: The one about Daniel

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter summary: Daniel is a pervert and the quartet wants to thank him

Warnings: Daniel is kinda gross in this (I'm sorry, I promise I love him), BDSM themes, dom/sub vibes, consent is given, then taken away, use of safe words, choking, PinV, blacking out and dissasociation, hate fuck, anal,

Notes: I've been on A03 far too much in the last three weeks for research purposes. Now we are here, and I have no idea what I'm doing. But! I give this stupid interlude while I try to figure out who on earth to write smut between three and four people. Don't judge me, okay? I'm trying T_T

Previous <-

Masterlist

Originally, the entire group was dumbfounded, knowing the things Daniel openly talked about. Even though Max had been his teammate for years, Daniel said he couldn't get past seeing him as a seventeen year old kid. Then which talking about such things is just gross.

It was day five of Charles and Max staying with the Australian. The two having found that making sure the door is locked behind them is an important detail.

The text conversation that night made it seem as though they would never consider this an option.

Charles: Daniel is never allowed to go near the children

Lando: what children?

Chatles: you and y/n

Lando: just because we're the youngers dosen't mean we're kids -_-

Y/N: Wouldn't the things we do be very illegal if we were?

Lando: Exactly!

Maxy: I think the idea here is that Daniel doesn't deserve to be around you two. I don't trust him either.

Charles looks over to Max after the lack of respons from their younger counterparts.

Lando: *video message* pretty sure children don't do this.

Max: Ha! Charles just played the video so fast he forgot to check his volume and Daniel came running at an inhuman speed and fell into the door!

Charles: serves him right

Charles: also Lando how are you recording with your tongue down her throat?

Lando: skills ;)

Max: so we're all agreed that we're keeping Daniel at arms length right?

Y/N: without a doubt

Charles: further might be better

Lando: *video* nope he dosen't get to experience this

Things escalated when all four were there. Daniel seemed to love putting his ear to the door. Max had not hesitated to put a hand to his face for that one

Only for him to be more frustrated when Daniel started saying filthy things right after.

Daniel was utterly determined, and it was concerning.

The worst attempt was when Daniel said he was going to a party and wouldn't be back until the morning. Opting to stay with his friend instead of driving and wanting to respect that the four were trying to be out as little as possible.

Pent-up sexual tension came to a breaking point after Daniel had been gone for an hour.

Clothes were off far too quickly. Things had escalated way too far that any logical sense was lost to raging hormones.

They left the door unlocked.

Daniel thought he was so clever lying to them. And in his defense, he was. He waited outside the apartment door for an hour. The walls weren't thin, but with four of them, it was easy to tell what was going on.

He snuck back in quietly. And even managed to get the door open without them noticing.

It took Max three minutes to notice him. Five minutes to get his clothes on. Anither five to make sure his partners were okay. Then an hour of chewing out Daniel.

All four had a usual role that they slipped into. Max happened to be the most dominant of the four. His want for control is not just on the race track.

They'd managed to convince him to give up that control when they raced and someone finished higher, but it wasn't to often.

With this, Max was also dubbed the king of consent. He never did or tried anything without discussion. Always asked before continuing. Communication in the bedroom was easier for him than in everyday life.

So when Daniel decided to watch them without their knowledge, Max was all over him.

"I feel like we should get him something as a thank you." The girl brought up one afternoon.

The other three shoot her a look of shock.

"For what? Watching us be intimate?"

"No, but at least for letting us stay with him and for keeping us safe from everyone but him."

Lando couldn't help but agree. "No idea what to get him thought."

Charles rubs his face. More in exasperation than anything. Sometimes, he hates how giving the younger two can be.

"We could ask him? Maybe take him out to dinner or something?" Shrugs Max.

They asked that night while they were seated in the living room. Daniel had kept some space after Max had lectured him, so the thought of him asking for anything to do with sex was not what they thought would happen.

"Absolutely not."

"You said anything."

"I lied."

"You're speaking for all four of you, Max."

Max exchanges a look with Charles. The two are on the same page. The younger, however, are people pleasers.

"We need to talk about it first."

"I feel bad though."

"Y/N, it's your body. If you don't want to, then you say no. Simple as that."

"But I also want to thank him."

It's a difficult decision, to say the least, but Max eventually gives in to the idea of a discussion.

Max is cautious about his words and makes sure Daniel knows exactly what the rules are. Charles is still reminding the younger two that they can back out at any point. Lando is actually turned on by his partners protectivness over them and thinks but wants to show Daniel their appreciation. Then the female, who has managed to be the only one with three partners she trusts.

This is different.

She trusts Max isn't going to let anything bad happen. She trusts Charles to communicate if she's struggling; the Monegasque can read her body like a clock.

Thats what got them here. Specifically, he got Max in his least favorite place. Out of control.

It didn't help that him and Charles still had their clothes on. It didn't help that they were tied to dining room chairs and made to watch the scene unfold.

Everyone was shocked they gave in to it. But Daniel had agreed to every term and condition, so again, Max relented. Though a bit peeved at being called no fun.

Him and Charles keep exchanging glances. Charles didn't take kindly to being called an attention hog. Ultimately landing him next to Max.

The two watch on as Daniel put himself in charge. They had the luxury of not being tied down and the freedom of moving around.

They knew who was really in charge, though. Every time Daniel did something, they would look to Max and Charles for approval. Only continuing after having been given the nod to continue.

Daniel was the most excited. Finally, he had them where he wanted them. His teammate from years ago made to watch him take his lovers just ad Daniel was forced to watch him steal redbulls' priorities.

Charles who stole away his fans with his charming looks and contagious smile made to watch his lovers smile at him instead.

Lando. His current teammate. Now at his complete mercy after having outshown the entire season.

Then, lastly, the female currently underneath him. The one who he knew was a slut for different men. He finally was getting his chance with her.

It's was perfect. Until it wasn't.

Lando had started disassociating. He was exhausted, and Daniel was relentless. Lando had officially left when Daniel litterally slammed into him for the first time. It hurt way too much for how little they worked up to it. He couldn't communicate his needs, and the girl beside them couldn't either.

She was gone when Daniel started name calling. The filthy things that left his mouth similar to things her dad had said growing up. Similar to those of the toxic fans she worked so hard to combat.

Daniel basically threw Lando to the side and took her next. There was no foreplay for her. There was no build-up. Daniel kept hitting her for some reason she couldn't figure out.

Then, his hands were around her throat. She tried to turn away from him. Look at Max and Charles for help, but Daniel forced her gaze to him.

"Don't look at them. Look at me."

Lando was attempting to come back to himself. Daniel was still touching him roughly, and he wanted it to be over, but to get that, he needed to come back.

"God, I've been wanting to use you so bad for so long."

Black spots dance around her vision. It's funny because the things he's doing and saying sometimes we're nice when they came from her lovers. Why was this so different.

His hands were far too tight on her throat. She couldn't get air in. Her body was going limp on the bed as she tried to force oxygen into her system.

The word on the tip of her tongue. But she was gone before she could get it out.

Lando is the first to feel in happen given he's somewhat on top of her. Daniel doesn't stop, and he's now in panic mode.

He wills himself back. He lets out a shrill noise as he comes back to his senses. Though he curses himself for not just saying his word. But his panicked eyes are still able to meet those of Max and Charles who are looking around frantically.

It's Max who says it first. "Red!"

Bu Daniel either doesn't hear it or chooses to ignore it.

Lando is actively fighting the hold now. Daniel's hand on his face feels like it's burning him.

Then it's Max and Charles shouting the word.

The Australian finally halts in his tracks and removes his hands from the two youngers.

Lando is up in an instant, untying the two. Max first as he is going to drag Daniel off the female. The Charles who's soothing Lando. Helping him to cover up.

"What happened to respecting the safe word?" Max is furious. He can feel he anger boiling over as he shoves Daniel away.

The girl who wanted to please now lay unconscious and naked. Max can see her chest rising and falling it rapid breaths. The bruises and red patches had been blossoming across her skin.

Daniel looks ashamed of himself. He knew he shouldn't go into this with the mindset of taking back something. But he couldn't resist the temptation.

Charles tosses Max a blanket. He lays it down gently over the female to cover her body from Daniel's eyes.

Lando was hurting to the touch, and Charles could clearly see every unnecessary mark. Lando was practically passing out in his arms from the sheer mental and physical exhaustion.

Max shoved Daniel out of the room. He'd lecture him later about safe sex practices and how he needs to watch more carefully.

Something in Max told him he wasn't deliberately trying to hurt them. Daniel just wasn't right going in, and Max could see the regret on his face.

Lando was dripping with apologies. Something Max and Charles were quick to soothe. He wanted to please, and they knew that. It hurt then to see the Brit so distressed.

Max left the room to get supplies. Ice, water, food, and some rags to help the two get cleaned up. Daniel had his head in his hands when he came out.

"I'm truly sorry. I got caught up in my own emotions."

"Look, Daniel, I'm pissed at you for not being careful and disrespecting boundaries. However, at the end of the day, you are still my friend. But I swear to you, if you ever try anything like that again, I'll make sure you never drive another car for the rest of your life."

"Valid." Daniel looks around awkwardly. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you have them."

"Yeah, you're lucky you were on the receiving end of their giving. Neither of them finished because they were so focused on you."

"Yeah sexually they're great. But I mean in every way. I guess I'm jealous of what you four have."

"It is pretty amazing."

"I take it I'm in for another lecture?"

"No, and I think you'll like what ne and Charles are planning for you much better."

Everything hurt when she came back to the land of the living. Her throat and neck were stiff. Her lower half ached in a way she didn't know was possible. Then the memories came rushing back.

She's quick to sit up and look around for her partners. Panic settled in that she did something wrong and disappointed them.

Lando is next to her, still asleep. She vaugley remembers the pain on Landos face when Daniel first took him.

She figures they are going to hear about it later from Max and Charles. But to be fair, they had tried multiple times to get it to stop.

Lando is startled awake at the sounds of a shrill shriek from down the hall.

Both shoot out of bed, look at each other, and assess the damage.

The noise can wait. Hugs are neccecary first.

Lando runs his fingers over her throat, and she traces the outline of red hand prints along his waist.

"Are you feeling alright?" He asks her.

"Sore but okay. You?" Her voice is raspy due to the pressure from earlier.

"Same. I didn't think he would go that hard."

"He didn't listen to Max at all I don't think. And even though we all consented and agreed, I don't think he was fully there to do so."

"Do you think their mad at us?"

"No, we tried to stop it. We didn't do anything wrong."

"Charles wants us to talk about how we two need to put ourselves first."

She groans in exasperation. "Speaking if them, where are they?"

Soon, they find themselves sneaking off down the hall. Their lovers are nowhere insight. Anither shriek startles them.

"You don't think..?"

They come up to the door where the noises are coming from and peer inside.

It takes all their willpower not to laugh as Daniel is at the complete mercy of Charles and Max. His limbs tied tightly to the bed.

They're not even touching him, and he looks completely blissed out.

Max spots the two in the door and nods them inside with a smile. "We've agreed that Daniel needs to learn about respect during scenes. Care to join us?"

The two look at each other skeptically. Is this an order? Is Daniel okay with this?

Charles takes his fingers out of Daniel's mouth and comes to greet the two. "Same rules, different set-up. You two are taking not giving. You hear me?"

That one was definitely an order.

They stare at Daniel, whose muscles are twitching. "Does he... want this?"

"The better question is if you two want this? Otherwise me and Charles are going to make sure he knows what he did was wrong." Max winks.

They can't help but be a little excited at the prospect of watching Max and Charles make Daniel squirm.

Next ->

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak @jjsprobablywrong

@chanshintien @graceelive

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 22 days

Text

Dreamboat Chapter 5

Summary: Y/N, her brother Steve, and his best friend Bucky all moved out West for a new start after Y/N was almost caught up and hurt in a rival gang fight. Steve wasn’t in shape to fight in the war, but Bucky was drafted. While out West, Y/N finds herself in trouble again from the local bar owner. Steve is suddenly drafted for an experimental division of the army, but leaving Y/N alone isn’t an option. Bucky comes home needing help, and Steve comes up with a crazy compromise.

Warnings: mentions of violence, war, unwanted advances, graphic imaging, eventual smut

*Y/N/N= your nick name

Previous chapter Next chapter

Y/N was living a daydream, she had to be. There was no way this man was real. That weekend they had tried every position, seeing what worked best since he only had one arm, laughing at what didn’t, and learning all they could about each other in this context of their relationship. Every day from then on she would nearly run home from work just so she could walk in and find him waiting for her on what was now their bed.

Justin didn’t bother her anymore. He didn’t appear out of nowhere or follow her to work, and she figured that at last he’d finally gotten the message that she wasn’t available or interested.

She was worried about Steve. They hadn’t received any new letters recently, and she started to stress. When she and Steve hadn’t heard from Bucky in a long time she had been scared, but he came home. Who knew what happened to Steve? She tried writing to the army, to his battalion leader, but never heard anything back. There was a strange story of a Captain America going around, a man who was beating the Nazis back and making a difference in the war, but she never paid enough attention to it all.

Weeks later she started to feel sick. Winter was in full swing and she figured that maybe she was catching the flu, but it progressed from flu-like symptoms to throwing up at the drop of a hat. While she was at work she ran to the bathroom for the fifth time that day and her boss approached her.

“Okay, you, come with me,” Dr. Banner said, gripping her arm and pulling her down the hall when she came out of the bathroom.

“What? What’s wrong?” Y/N said, keeping her mouth turned away so he wouldn’t smell the vomit on her breath.

“You’re getting tested,” he announced with no room for argument.

“Tested?” she asked as he veered into an exam room and had her sit on the table.

Dr. Banner pulled out a cup and set it next to her on the table. “Go piss, then bring it back to me.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide when she realized what he was wanting to test her for. “I…that can’t be…wait…”

He pointed to the bathroom that was connected to the exam room and then walked out. Y/N went and peed in the cup, closing it firmly before walking back out. Dr. Banner was already waiting for her. She handed the cup to him and he nodded. “I’ll be back soon,” he sing-songed as he walked toward the lab.

Y/N went back to work in a daze. She tried to focus, but her mind kept wandering. Was she? Could this actually be happening? It wasn’t like she and Bucky had tried to stop it, by any means, but it still seemed like a possibility that was a long way off for some reason. A little later Dr. Banner caught her in the hallway, pulling her back into an exam room.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Barnes,” he smiled. “You’re pregnant.”

Y/N gawked at him. “Are…are you sure?”

“Hogben test confirmed it,” he nodded as he leaned against the counter. “When was your last menstrual cycle?” Y/N thought back and told him and he did some quick calculations in his head. “Then you should be due near the end of September,” he said.

Y/N nodded, still feeling dazed at the thought of being pregnant. “Thank you,” she said. Then she looked at him in fear. “Are you going to fire me?”

Dr. Banner chuckled. “No. You’re one of my best midwives. We’ll see how your pregnancy goes, and depending on what you need as it progresses, we’ll decide when it’s time to let you rest.”

Y/N frowned but nodded. “Okay. Thank you. I’ll try to get to the bathroom faster–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dr. Banner said. “Just go home and rest. Take care of yourself. Get your vitamins. You know how all this works.”

Y/N gave him a small smile. “Thanks Bruce.” He winked at her and walked out of the room. Y/N got home a bit earlier that day, Bucky looking worried in the living room.

“Babydoll, you okay?” he asked, immediately walking up to her and reaching his hand up to tilt her head up so he could look her over. “You weren’t feeling well this morning. You shouldn’t have gone to work. Did something happen–”

“I was sick,” Y/N explained. “I got sick a few times at work. But I’m okay. I’m…it’s…” she paused. She was unsure how to broach the subject. They hadn’t talked about children or having a family at all. He’d always been good with kids, from what she’d seen as they grew up, but she didn’t know how he would feel about it now. But looking up at him, she couldn’t think of a better man she’d want to have babies with. She decided to just bite the bullet. Her eyes started to fill with tears and Bucky’s frown deepened, his eyes widening. “It’s okay,” she quickly reassured him, her hands smoothing over his shoulders. “I’m…I’m pregnant.”

Bucky froze. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape as he stared at her, the only part of him moving was his eyes as they flitted back and forth between her eyes. “Pregnant,” he whispered. Y/N nodded, her hand moving to his hand on her neck, pulling it up towards her mouth and kissing his palm. “My…baby,” he said, his eyes slipping down to her stomach.

“Our baby,” Y/N said, pulling his hand down to rest on her stomach. “You’re going to be a father.”

Bucky finally blinked and snapped his head back up to look at her. He smiled as his hand caressed over her stomach. “My babydoll is gonna give me a baby,” he murmured. He was looking at her like she hung the stars and it made her even more emotional. “Why are you crying?” he chuckled. “Are these happy or sad tears?”

“Happy,” Y/N whispered. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” Bucky nodded, his smile widening. “Yes, babydoll, I’m happy. I was just shocked at first.” He leaned down and kissed her, his hand coming back up to her face to cup her cheek. Y/N kissed him back passionately, her hands running through his hair. “Mmh, you’re excited today,” he mumbled against her lips.

Y/N giggled. “It’s the hormones,” she breathed, kissing down his cheek to his jaw then to his neck.

“Ah, and here I was thinking you were just happy to see me,” Bucky teased, his hand slapping her butt.

“I am,” Y/N said, nipping at his collarbone, making him moan. She pushed him to their room, fumbling with his pants. “And it seems you're happy to see me,” she said, feeling him harden in her hand.

Bucky huffed a laugh as she pushed him back on the bed then sunk to her knees in front of him. “I’m always happy to see you…Mama.”

#marvel #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #series fanfic #chapter 5

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 1 year

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Note: I know I said I wouldn't write/post a fic today, but I couldn't stop myself in my grief, and I needed a LOT of fluff as well as a coping mechanism. So here I am, with a little ode to my beloved Thor. Firefighter chapter 3, direct follow up to part 2.

Warnings: suggestive/fluff. mention of animal death, grief and a brief hint to childhood trauma.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric stuck by your side after the incident with your cat.

wordcount: 3,7k

Masterlist

'Do you hate me? For what happened?'

After you saw your Mister Meow Meow under Sihtric's car, Sihtric had held you tightly wrapped in his arms, pressed against his chest. He cried just as hard as you did, and kept murmuring endless 'I'm so sorry, love,' and 'I really didn't see him,' as he held you. Sihtric eventually asked what you wanted to do with Meow Meow's body, and you said he should be buried.

'Next to the tree he always climbed in,' you sniffled, 'where you and I first met.'

Sihtric smiled softly and agreed. He wiped your tears and you tried to wipe his eyeliner, which had run down his cheeks, as best as you could. Sihtric picked Meow Meow up in his arms and carried the lifeless body inside. You figured the poor cat had been sleeping on your driveway, as usual, because no one normally used it at that hour, so it was one of his favourite spots to nap, when you'd let him out of the house. And you completely forgot that Meow Meow had escaped through the open back door when you and Sihtric had sex on the living room floor, before the BBQ. And therefore it didn't cross your mind that he could be sleeping in your driveway, but when you heard that thump, you immediately knew what had happened. At least he was asleep, you thought, so he went rather… peacefully.

You searched your attic for a box in which your furry friend would fit, and you draped it with a soft cloth. Sihtric had cleaned Meow Meow up as best as he could, and carefully laid him inside the box, then stood back and let you do your thing. You petted Meow Meow on his little head and pressed a soft kiss to it, then you put some of his favourite toys in the box with him, as well as a few cat treats he loved.

'Maybe he'll need a snack on his way,' you sobbed with shocking shoulders.

Sihtric wrapped his arm around you as you both looked down into the box, and he held you tight when you broke out in tears again.

'Do you wish to bury him now?' Sihtric asked after a few minutes, wiping a tear from his own face, 'it's quite late. I mean, I don't mind it, love, I'll dig a hole right now if you want. But maybe you want to wait until the morning?'

'Maybe it's better in the morning,' you sniffled, 'it's really dark out there, near the tree.'

Sihtric agreed, kissed your forehead and cupped your cheeks. 'Can I do anything for you right now, sweetheart, tell me?'

'Will you s-stay here with me?' you fought your tears, 'tonight? I'd like to sleep at… at my house now.'

Sihtric looked at you, compassionately, and he pressed another soft kiss to your forehead, then to your lips.

'Of course, doll,' he whispered, 'but I do really have to stop by my place to feed… you know,' he struggled to say 'his cat', afraid you'd resent him for still having a breathing cat at home.

'I know,' you said, 'you should go and feed Dog,' you smiled lightly at the silly name of his cat, 'and give him a cuddle for me.'

'I will,' Sihtric smiled softly, 'will you be okay here for like half an hour?'

'Yeah,' you looked back at Meow Meow, 'it'll give me some time alone to say goodbye, I guess.'

Sihtric studied you, desperately hoping you would be okay.

'I'll be okay,' you reassured him when you saw the look in his eyes, 'it'll just be weird, to sleep without a cat on the bed, you know?'

'I know,' Sihtric said, 'I promise I'll be back soon, okay?'

He pecked your face all over and then kissed your lips again. 'See you in a bit, babe,' he whispered before he kissed your cheek.

And when Sihtric drove off your driveway, he started sobbing behind the wheel. Another animal died because of me, he thought.

After an ugly crying session, you managed to somewhat compose yourself again. You closed the box and placed Mister Meow Meow safely on the table. You found peace knowing that the cat was already of age and half deaf. He had a good life full of cuddles and treats,and in the morning you'd say your last goodbye. With that thought you went upstairs and changed into your pyjamas.

Not much later Sihtric rang your doorbell, and as you opened the door, Sihtric ran back to his car.

'I hope you don't mind I brought someone,' Sihtric smiled when he walked back up to you, holding his own adorable, black cat in his arms.

'Dog!' you cried out, and started sobbing again, 'of course I don't mind,' you said and took the cat in your arms.

Dog was Sihtric's emotional support cat, and if there's anything you needed, it was emotional support.

After some strong doctor's advice, Sihtric was matched up with Dog about two years ago, after a lot of childhood trauma had spilled out during long overdue therapy sessions. Sihtric hadn't given you a lot of details, except that his trauma was caused by his father, and that it led to Sihtric having severe panic attacks when he was alone at home often. And Sihtric said he's been doing so much better ever since he got Dog.

When Sihtric got home to feed Dog that night, before returning to you, he broke out in tears again and laid down on his kitchen floor. Dog ran up to him immediately, licking his face and jumping on his chest. And then Sihtric knew he had to bring his cat with him. Sihtric was afraid he'd freak out at night, at your place, if he started to spiral about him accidentally killing Meow Meow, but he also knew you would feel better too with Dog around.

You sat on your bed, on top of the sheets as you played with Dog, who was easily entertained while doing his job of making you, and Sihtric, feel happier and more calm. Sihtric sat back, shirtless, against your bed's headboard, and the sheets covered him from his hips down. You were too busy with Dog to glance over your shoulder, but if you had done so, you would've found Sihtric's eyes on you.

Sihtric stared at you with his heavy-lidded and completely in love mismatched eyes. A soft smile graced his face and he felt his heart ache inside his chest. Sihtric wished he knew how to express his feelings for you, but he didn't even know if there was a way, or if there would ever be a word that could express what he felt for you.

I'm going to marry her, Sihtric thought as he looked at you. He suddenly smiled wider and lightly shook his head to himself. You only met her like two months ago, you idiot, he argued with himself. Yeah, but I love her. She's just… perfect. I can't even imagine not having her in my life anymore. Am I going too fast? He furrowed his brow. Maybe, Sihtric lightly shrugged at his inner dialogue. Okay, maybe. But… proposing doesn't mean you have to get married fast. You can be engaged for years. Sihtric nodded, that is true, he thought. And he snapped out of his thoughts when he heard your soft giggle, when Dog jumped in your lap and started purring as he headbutted his soft head against yours. Oh, fucking… gods, Sihtric exhaled sharply at the sight of you and his cat. She'll be my death regardless, the little valkyrie she is, he smiled at himself again and a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

You turned and found Sihtric smiling at himself.

'What are you up to?' you smiled.

'Hm?' Sihtric snapped out of his thoughts again, 'oh, n-nothing,' he blushed.

'Sure,' you chuckled, 'well, I think we should go to sleep. I'm exhausted,' you said and joined him under the covers.

You faced Sihtric and he snuck his arm around your waist under the blankets, pulling you a little closer against his body, and your legs tangled together. Dog settled down on Sihtric's pillow, resting his fluffy body against the top of Sihtric's head, as the cat always did when Sihtric wasn't laying down on his back. Otherwise Dog would sleep on Sihtric's chest, as the cat was trained to monitor Sihtric's breathing. If it would suddenly spike, the cat knew something was off and would distract Sihtric in any way possible. And you thought Dog was a blessing for watching over the love of your life like that.

'I… have to ask,' Sihtric spoke softly, 'do you- do you hate me? For what happened?'

'Hate y-,' you frowned, 'Sihtric,' you sighed and chuckled, 'of course I don't hate you, how can you possibly think that? It was an accident. I don't blame you, honey,' you said, 'if it was me driving, the same thing would've happened. We both didn't see Meow Meow.'

'I just feel so awful, baby,' Sihtric whispered and pressed is forehead against yours, 'I'm so fucking sorry. This is going to haunt me…'

You hushed him sweetly and cupped his cheeks.

'Stop that,' you whispered, 'there is no reason to beat yourself up over this, okay?'

Sihtric nodded as he sniffled. 'I'm sorry, love,' he said.

'And stop saying sorry,' you chuckled lightly, 'promise me you will try to let this go? I am not mad at you, I don't blame you, and you don't need to apologise. It just happened.'

Sihtric nodded again, 'I'll try,' he said and gave you a soft smile.

He caressed your cheek with his thumb and bit down on his lip as his eyes darted over your face. He hummed soft and allowed a bigger smile to tug at his lips.

'You're so damn cute. Hm, I love you,' Sihtric whispered, then realised he had said that out loud and his eyes grew wide, 'I- I mean…' he stammered.

You stared at him with big, glossy eyes, seeing Sihtric's cheeks turn a shade of red before he tried to hide his face, but you stopped him from pulling the blankets over his head.

'You love me?' you asked after a long moment of silence.

'Well,' Sihtric chuckled nervously, 'y-yeah. I....'

'I love you too,' you blurted out.

'You do?' Sihtric looked concerned.

'Of course,' you laughed shyly, 'I… I love you.'

'Okay, but… I love you more,' Sihtric smiled a little smug, and he pulled you in for a kiss.

After you both admitted to being in love with each other, there seemed to be no more stopping. You were both emotionally exhausted, but that didn't stop neither of you from whispering 'I love you' in between soft kisses and cuddles for hours on end, until you finally fell asleep. And it seemed that the more affection you showed to Sihtric, the more smothering he became, but you loved it and couldn't get enough of him.

You were glad you had been able to sleep with him that night, and with Dog, who was a much calmer sleeper than Mister Meow Meowever was, but you enjoyed his soft purring all the same. And you woke up rather early in the morning, with Sihtric next to you. You sat up and looked at him for a moment, and you smiled at the sight of the handsome firefighter in your bed, who loved you.

And you couldn't help yourself when you cuddled up to him and pressed soft kisses to his shoulder and neck, to wake him up, hoping to get some hot action.

Sihtric hummed softly and wrapped his arms around you while you continued your kisses. And the more awake and aware Sihtric became, the intenser he hummed and the bigger his smile grew.

'Hm, baby,' Sihtric husked as you pecked his neck again, 'do you know what you're starting here?'

'Mhm,' you smiled, hands moving up into his short hair, 'and I hope to finish it too.'

'Hm, fuck,' Sihtric smiled and bit down on his lip, his hands moving down to your ass.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you on top with ease, his arousal teasing you as you straddled him. You leaned in to kiss his lips, and you moved one hand down into his boxers. Sihtric's breath hitched and he hummed with a smile.

'You know what I like,' he whispered, slowly running out of breath as you worked his length with your hand.

You kept your face close to his, enjoying the expressions that twitched on his face as you pleased him.

'You like that?' you purred.

'Fuck,' Sihtric's breathing became faster, heavier, his hands squeezing your thighs, 'need you to fuck me, babe,' he moaned, 'you make me so damn horny all the time,' he breathed heavily, 'come on, doll, let me have you.'

And just as you wanted to pull down his boxers, Sihtric's cat leaped onto his chest.

'What the-,' you blinked and sat back up.

'Fuck!' Sihtric hissed, 'not now!' he groaned and shoved the cat off, but Dog wasn't having it, and jumped back on his chest.

Then you realised the cat probably thought Sihtric was in a state of panic, as his breathing was hard, fast and heavy. And you started to laugh.

'Fucking… gods,' Sihtric sighed and chuckled, 'really, Dog? This is exactly why you sleep downstairs when she's over,' he hissed at his cat, regretting he brought him right now.

You cackled and got off Sihtric.

'God,' you snorted, 'that's a cockblock, huh?'

Sihtric muttered and hid his face behind his hands.

'Shit,' he said, 'I'm sorry, baby.'

'It's fine,' you laughed, 'we'll make up for this later,' you smiled and pecked his cheek, 'but Dog will stay downstairs then.'

After you both had breakfast, you carried the box with Mister Meow Meow outside as Sihtric had dug a hole. You were kinda glad that your nosy neighbours weren't able to move back into their house yet after the fire, so you could bury your cat in private, without them lurking through the window.

'You okay, love?' Sihtric asked as you lowered the box into the ground, his hand on your shoulder.

'Yeah,' you sniffled and got up from your knees.

Sihtric wrapped his arm around you, and like last night, you both stared down at the box. But this time it was closed, and in the ground.

'Thank you for everything, Meow Meow, I will always love you. I'll never forget you,' you said softly, 'you've given me so much joy and love. You were one of a kind. You were my best friend in a way too. And,' you chuckled, wiping away a tear, 'because of you I met the love of my life,' you said and looked up at Sihtric.

Sihtric smiled sweetly at you and kissed your hair when you had said your last words to Mister Meow Meow.

'And here I thought Meow Meow would one day be the death of me,' Sihtric chuckled softly and then choked up.

'I promise,' you squeezed Sihtric's waist, 'Meow Meow did this on purpose, to mess with you one last time,' you chuckled, 'he knew you were competition.'

'Smart bastard he was,' Sihtric smiled, 'he really was competition. We both wanted your heart.'

'And you boys were too foolish to know you both already had it.'

'Oh, doll,' Sihtric sighed and kissed your lips with a soft hum. 'Listen, Meow Meow,' he said and looked at the box, 'I promise I'll look after her for you and take care of her.'

A few weeks had passed since your beloved Mister Meow Meow had been buried, and Sihtric had been subtly prying if you wanted a new cat. You said you did, but not a kitten, as cute as they were. You wanted to adopt one from a shelter some time soon, as your house was rather empty without Meow Meow in it. Sihtric had stayed over with Dog most of the time, but some nights required you both to sleep apart due to your jobs, and then Dog would not be around you either. During those nights you simply realised you really needed the company of a furry friend.

And Sihtric went to a shelter behind your back some time later. He knew you loved any cat, but you had a soft spot for big fluffy cats, and Sihtric couldn't believe his eyes when he spotted a rather young, white Norwegian Forest Cat waiting to be adopted. Apparently his owner had passed away in a tragic car accident about a month ago, and Sihtric felt it was destiny. It took a few days to arrange everything, and every day Sihtric went to the shelter, without telling you, to lowkey bond with the cat. Sihtric had also stolen one of your shirts and left it with the cat, so he'd get used to your smell already and would recognise you as his new owner, while Sihtric would sort of be his owner too, as he was the one to rescue him.

About a week later Sihtric finally got the call that he could pick up the cat. The shelter had given him a brand new collar and name tag, and Sihtric couldn't wait to surprise you. But first, he made a stop at a jewellery store.

'You better not let me down, buddy,' Sihtric said to your surprise cat as he tied a little handwritten note to its collar.

Sihtric got out of his car and carried the big box that held your new pet over to your door. He rang your doorbell and anxiously bit down on his lip, as he couldn't fidget with his rings.

'Sihtric,' you smiled, then saw the large box in his hand, 'are you finally officially moving in?' you laughed.

Sihtric's eyes grew big.

'You'd want me to move in?'

'Well… I mean… I- I wouldn't mind,' you felt your cheeks heat up, 'a-are you moving in?'

Sihtric's heart jumped out of his chest, and he shook his head to bring his attention back to the box in his hands.

'No, I mean… well, eh,' Sihtric sighed and tried to collect his thoughts, 'I have a gift for you,' he smiled.

You let him inside and wondered what on earth he was up to.

'Sit down, baby,' Sihtric said, barely able to contain his nerves as you did what he asked.

'Are you okay?'

'Fine,' Sihtric swallowed hard, 'look, so, eh… I mean… I guess it's… maybe a bit … fast. But- but if you really want me to move in-'

'I'd love that,' you smiled, 'maybe it's fast, but… everything just feels right with you. I just - I don't want to be without you anymore,' you said, and Sihtric blushed.

'I don't want to be without you anymore either,' Sihtric smiled, 'and then… eh, this… I guess this,' he looked at the box in his hands, 'this is… a… somewhat of a… moving in gift,' he chuckled.

He placed the box in front of your feet and told you to open it.

'Oh my god!' you yelled upon the sight of the adorable white cat, 'Sihtric!? What… what…' your eyes teared up right away, 'is… f…for me… mine?'

'He's yours, my love,' Sihtric said, and tried to keep his nerves in check. And he also desperately tried to not cry at your happiness.

'Oh my god!' you cried out again, 'what… when… ohh,' you cooed when the cat allowed you to pick him up with ease, and he licked your face. 'Oh my god, how cute are y- oh, what's this?' you frowned, and then read the note on his collar.

Hi, my name is Thor. I needed a new owner as I lost my previous one. I wish to keep my new mom company for as long as I live… and that handsome guy over there wishes to have my new mom's company for as long as he lives.

'Wha- I don't… Sihtric?'' you said, confused while being a crying mess.

And when you looked over at Sihtric, he got down on one knee as he held a box with a stunning ring in his slightly trembling hand up to you.

'My love,' Sihtric said, hoarsely, fighting his tears as well as a feeling of panic, and Dog ran up to him. 'You are just… everything I have ever dreamed of,' Sihtric continued, 'and every morning when I wake up without you, I am terrified that you truly were just a dream. So… I only wish to wake up next to you, every day, for the rest of my life,' he swallowed a sob and took your hand, 'baby, please,' he smiled as his tears fell down, 'will you marry me and dream with me every night, and wake up with me every morning?'

Sihtric stared at you with big, watery eyes. And he held his breath when you stared back at him, hugging your new cat while Sihtric held your hand.

'Y-yes,' you let out a sob, 'Sihtric, of course!'

Sihtric exhaled sharp with relief and almost passed out for a second, but then managed to slip the ring around your finger and he grabbed your face, kissing you all over as you both cried.

'I love you,' Sihtric whispered, almost desperately.

'I love you more,' you sniffled, 'I never want to fall asleep or wake up without you ever again.'

'Neither do I,' Sihtric smiled as he looked down into your eyes, 'but I love you more.'

And right as Sihtric taunted you, your new fur baby, Thor, let out a loud meow as he pushed himself in between you and Sihtric.

'Looks like you have competition again,' you sniffled and smiled.

'I'm willing to share you with them,' Sihtric chuckled as Dog started to interfere too, 'but not in the bedroom,' he said firmly as he looked at his new, put together family, 'in the bedroom, she's all mine, you guys got that?'

'Only at night, or when the door is closed,' you laughed.

'That is fair,' Sihtric agreed. He kissed your lips and then smiled cheekily, 'I kinda need you in the bedroom now,' Sihtric said, 'with the door closed.'

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#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #modern!sihtric

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thecrystalquill · 8 months

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A/N: Welcome to Chapter Thirteen! Thank you for waiting; I wanted to do it before Christmas, but you know how busy December is. Also find me on AO3: The_Crystal_Quill !

Also I'm so glad to finally give Rahim some appreciation <3

Please don't forget to leave a like!!!

Masterlist Series Masterlist Introduction Your First Year Letter

Chapter Thirteen ~ One Step Closer

Dear (Y/N),

It’s about time that you wrote me a letter that I didn’t have to share, and I don’t appreciate you keeping secrets from me, but I do enjoy having secrets to keep. I won’t tell anyone; I highly doubt they would be of any help anyway.

First of all, stop looking in the damned library, the answers to your Message aren’t in a book. I suggest you figure out where to go. This Spirit, whoever they are, obviously has something for you to find. They must have been to Hogwarts, or there would have been no point in Contacting you now. It must be there.

I would like to be involved in this, obviously you’re getting nowhere on your own, the only obstacle in my way is the fact that Hogwarts is so far. you should stay at Hogwarts to do some investigating. I will help.

I’ll start to set the seed in Mother and Father’s heads about what it would be like to see your school, I know there is a village near Hogwarts, find out the name for me. Then you can write home and tell them that you want to spend the holidays at Hogwarts – I’ll convince them to travel to see you there, it should be easy to get them to believe it was their idea.

In the mean time, you just look for some clues. I’m sure you can find something to do until I get there.

~ Wednesday

Emotionless, mildly condescending, and straight to the point, just like her sister. It was clear to (Y/N) that Wednesday was rather excited about this enigma; it had only taken a couple of days for her to reply, and she’d obviously put a plan together rather quickly in her eager state.

She really must be bored without (Y/N) there. It was a nice thought, in a way.

(Y/N) didn’t really want to spend the winter holidays at Hogwarts; she’d actually been rather looking forward to sleeping in her own bed and decorating the family tree, standing for another annual portrait and bickering while Lurch painted their every expression, and not to mention the flaming Christmas Pudding that only Grandmama knew how to make. But it seemed that some things were more important – (Y/N) was starting to despise this Spirit for interrupting her life; she was supposed to have a very normal year of magic and studying.

There were no practical lessons so close to the holidays, and most of her classes consisted of reviewing the work they had completed during their first term before it came to an end. For the last thirty-six minutes, she had been writing an essay about Rowena Ravenclaw and her life before and after the creation of Hogwarts, while Professor Binns lectured about how next term they would be looking into the other schools of magic around the world. It was a shame, (Y/N) thought, that Binns had a talent for making a subject so interesting sound so incredibly boring. It seemed the most exciting thing to ever happen to him was his death, and even then his retelling of the event was as dull and lifeless as the corpse which he left behind.

“…Now, Beaubatons, the French academy, that is – you may read it and think it is pronounced ‘beau’ as in ‘beautiful’, but is actually pronounced ‘boar’ like the wild pig, now that I think on it, it’s much like Hogwarts being named from the mole of a hog – anyhow, Beaubatons is in the Pyrenees, and takes students predominantly from, France and Spain, so I suppose they must also have language classes there too. Actually, quite a lot of them seem to speak a few languages, very talented students, they are, so I suppose they must offer language classes. So anyway, as I was saying, Beaubatons school is cloaked under a spell, much like the one that hides the Hogwarts grounds from muggles, but where here they simply get dazed and confused and return themselves away from the area, them being in the Pyrenees means a lot of muggles tend to get themselves lost off the edge of rocks and cliffs and the like, and as unfortunate as that is, it means that the whole area is highly advised against, as far as the muggles are concerned, so in the end it turns out to be not so bad. Sure, there’s a few injuries and the odd death every now and then, but it does a fine job at keeping the muggles away. So, as I was saying…” Sweet Hades take my soul to the depths of Styx already, (Y/N) thought. If he carried on any longer she may just pull her ears off, and her peers seemed to suffer similarly. Listening to Binns’ unique way of speaking was somehow the verbal equivalent of watching paint dry; his tone was slow and monotonous as if he were bored of it himself, and he drawled through each sentence like a snail, droning on and on, digression after digression, to the point where it’s hard to even hear what exactly he’s talking about over the constant sound. And don’t even get started on what it was like to get trapped in a conversation with him – there was no escaping the relentless torture of word after word for what felt like hours, and there was no helping his victims chained in place by the requirement to be polite to your elders.

Sharing her desk was Saoirse, of course, but (Y/N) had noticed she’d fallen asleep some time ago – Binns had quite the power for doing that. Now would be the perfect time for some earphones, yet another con to muggle technology not working at Hogwarts; she’d once wanted to ask why that was, but she dreaded how long the answer would take.

‘Rowena Ravenclaw then decided that her house would be one for students who valued wisdom and knowledge above all else, and created an environment which would nurture their minds and mould her students into some of the brightest witches and wizards at Hogwarts.’ (Y/N) wrote, hoping to finish her essay before the class ended so she wouldn’t have it for homework. Only ten minutes left until the bell would sound and release them from their torture.

When there was only four minutes left, (Y/N) nudged Saoirse with her elbow, waking her almost immediately; they had learned that it was best to leave as soon as the bell rang, rather than risk being caught up in a conversation with the professor, it was a mad-dash to leave.

As she rolled up her essay and put her quill away, (Y/N) thought about what she was going to write in her letter home. Wednesday must have already set the seed of seeing Hogwarts, as she’d put it, so now she needed to request that she stay. Only, she was finding it a little tricky to think up a reason for the strange request; in almost every letter (Y/N) had mentioned how she couldn’t wait to return home, what could possibly make her want to stay?

She needed a lie, and a good one at that.

When the bell finally dismissed them, the girls grabbed their bags and cloaks and exited the classroom. As December had rolled around, the snow was starting to fall each night, leaving a light layer on the grounds, and the hallways were becoming even more chilled than before. It was the perfect amount of cold for (Y/N); her breath fogged slightly in front of her, and she could wear comfortable layers, and feel like she was taking a lovely trip through the morgue.

The hallways gradually warmed up as they got closer to the Great Hall, their ever-burning fires seemed to heat the whole room, and the toasty warmth was trapped between the walls. Magic, probably, stopped the heat from escaping through the brickwork.

At the Slytherin table, (Y/N) sat and thought of what to write in her letter while Saoirse started a conversation about her latest obsession: vampires. “Wait, you really didn’t know they were real?” (Y/N) asked as she fiddled with the golden goblet in front of her. She sometimes forgot that Saoirse was raised by very ordinary muggles.

“I thought they were just a myth, like an old folk-tale, y’know?” Answered Saoirse with a wave of her arm, she gestured often when she spoke, (Y/N) noticed. “Like Dracula.”

“Dracula was real too.” She replied, amused at the way Saoirse dropped her hands on the table and gawked.

“What?” She said, moving her hair out of her face to pay proper attention to her friend. “Explain, now.”

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) succumbed to the distraction. “Count Dracula was from Romania, he came to Whitby by ferry, and he lived and died there. The story got a bit exaggerated through time, but he was very real. In fact, you can learn all about him in my town.” She was ready to leave it there as she saw her other roommates enter the room and look for them, but she thought one last piece of information would be worth sharing. “Local legend says he’s buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in the town, but he’s actually buried in the Addams Cemetery next to my Great-Great-Uncle Wolfgang Addams.”

“WHAT?”

Dear Mother and Father,

I have so been looking forward to returning home for the holidays, as you know. But there has been an unfortunate incident involving a friend of mine and a carnivorous plant in one of the herbology greenhouses. She is having to spend the holidays in the hospital wing and can’t go home. I know you have been excited for me to be back home, but I may have already agreed to stay here so my friend wouldn’t be alone. Is that alright? I feel terrible about it all, but I’ve heard Christmas at Hogwarts is something to be awed. Perhaps you could send my gifts here? Or we can save them for the next holidays? It’s such a shame you can’t come here.

I have been practising my sword skills in the Forbidden Forest, luckily the cold weather means that few people are outside to see me. Sadly, I haven’t seen any terrible creatures in the forest, no ghouls or monsters, but there’s still time.

My lessons have been going well; my potions are near perfect, herbology has been coming naturally to me, and I only fell off of my broom once. Though, Transformation is proving to be more difficult than I anticipated.

The Hogwarts Express leaves from Hogsmeade Station early on Saturday morning next week, and I’ve agreed to accompany Saoirse as she boards. I look forward to hearing back from you.

~ (Y/N)

It wasn’t a perfect lie, but it would do. (Y/N) was attaching the letter to Mortis’ long leg as he finished up the steak and kidney pie she brought him, hoping he wouldn’t get too cold during his long flight. She’d already sent a note to Wednesday, informing her of the name of the nearest town and any updates on her mystery. With luck, she could easily convince them to stay in Hogsmeade – it would be a shame to not see them all for the winter – perhaps (Y/N) could sneak Wednesday into school.

“Go on then, Mortis.” She said to the great bird, giving his strong back a pat. “Fly back home as quickly as you can, I’ll see you soon.” (Y/N) took a step back, and watched as the vulture gave her a farewell nod and spread out his massive wings, diving from the tall tower and catching the wind to take him south. She watched until the giant creature turned into a brown-ish blur and disappeared into the white horizon, hoping it didn’t snow on his journey.

The trail back to the castle was long and peaceful; dark fir and pine tree tops were dusted in white and the snow on the ground had set a foot deep already, crunching beneath her shiny black boots with each step. For a while, that was the only sound she heard, until she neared the castle grounds and saw that there were students dotted around – some were settled around the courtyard some were walking through the fields to the iced-over lake, and two identical red-heads were throwing snowballs either at their friends or at unfortunate bystanders.

(Y/N) tugged on her leather gloves and tightened the emerald scarf around her neck, feeling a chill breeze redirect her way. She was pondering returning to the library to once more search for a useful book in the Divination section; she had all but given up on that idea, there was no way she could search through so many on her own, but she’d hate to admit that Wednesday was right.

She was just ascending the salted stone steps that lead into the castle, when she felt a soft pat on her head, and cold water melting into her hair and run down her neck. (Y/N) froze, and the whole courtyard seemed to freeze with her. A curse was muttered from behind her, and she turned to face the culprit. Maybe a dozen people were in the open area, all staring wide-eyed between the black-clad Addams heir and the group of damp third-year boys at the centre of it all. Three of the boys took a step back, pointing at their red-head friends accusingly, who watched warily for her reaction. (Y/N) said nothing, waiting for them to go first.

They straightened themselves out, faces pale from the cold and shock, noses red, gloves wet, both covered in snow. They looked to each other briefly, seemingly deciding what to do. “It was him!” The one of the left exclaimed, pointing to his brother.

The second twin gasped and put his hands up in surrender, shooting his brother a horrified expression of betrayal. “It was an accident, I swear!” He defended, giving her what he hoped was a sincerely apologetic look, crossing his heart with his forefinger. “I was aiming for Lee!”

A boy on the right threw his hands up, mirroring the look of innocence his accuser displayed. “Don’t drag me into this, you’re just a crappy shot.”

“Oi!”

“Well you’re the one who hit her!”

It was clear a petty argument was about to break out, so (Y/N) turned to face them fully from the third step and crossed her arms, successfully regaining their focus. They expected her to yell, to scream, to throw insults and curses. But she didn’t – she already had their attention; she didn’t have to cause a scene to get what she wanted.

All eyes were on them as the boys looked between themselves and her nervously; the longer she stood silent, the more anxious they became, wondering what she might do. Nothing in her face or body language gave away any indication of what she was thinking. Lee elbowed the twin nearest to him, seeming to snap him into some sort of action. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise.” The guilty red-head said, pulling his knitted hat over his ears as he gave her another genuine expression.

There was a pause of complete silence, all lesser-noises absorbed by the blanketed snow, as everyone watched. Then, with only a single, small nod, (Y/N) turned and continued on her way, leaving them to their business.

Sometimes (Y/N) forgot about the reputation she’d somehow accumulated since her arrival, after all, she did very little to build it. Somehow, in simply being herself, people had made her (and her family) to be some sort of fantastical being of dark and mysterious origin. Saoirse often made her feel so normal, that she often forgot that, in the eyes of everyone else, she wasn’t. So it wasn’t too drastic of her to assume something as simple as a rogue snowball may have been thrown on purpose, she thought. But an apology was all she needed, and the boy was polite enough to give a sincere one. So perhaps not everyone outside of her inner circle was all that bad, even if they thought some truth was behind the rumours about her.

It was half-past eleven on a Saturday morning, exactly one week before the Winter holidays, which meant that the library would be full of people finishing up assignments and catching up on reading. As she entered the quiet hall, she was unsurprised to see most people wearing Ravenclaw jumpers. Making her way towards the back, (Y/N) passed a table piled high with books; curiously, she peered around a stack to see Hermione in a discussion with her two Gryffindor friends. “This is taking forever, I don’t know where else to look.”

“I know I’ve read his name somewhere.” Harry said, flicking through a copy of Great Wizards Of The Twentieth Century, before Ron nudged him in the arm and nodded to their observer. “Oh, um… hi…” He said, drawing back slightly, as if unsure of what to say. It was then that (Y/N) noticed how Harry didn’t seem to ever say her name – perhaps, (Y/N) considered, he simply hadn’t decided on if he should call her by her first name or her last.

“That’s quite a lot of books,” (Y/N) commented, busying herself with undoing her coat.

“Yeah well, we’ve been doing quite a lot of reading.” Said Ron with a slight edge of defence. (Y/N) couldn’t understand why, it seemed to her a silly thing to defend.

Normally, (Y/N) would have resigned the attempt at conversation. But given that these were Hermione’s friends, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to show a little effort – she thought it was very grown-up of her. “Anything interesting?”

The answers from each of them varied, but Hermione simply huffed at them and turned to her. “(Y/N), do you know anything about Nicolas Flamel?” She asked, ignoring Ron’s noise of protest.

(Y/N) hummed as she removed her scarf and hung it on her arm. “Can’t say I’ve heard of him. Why?”

“No reason.” Said Ron, closing his book and moving it aside, interrupting Hermione before she shared too much.

Hermione only sent him a glare and ignored his frown of disapproval. “We’ve looked everywhere but we just can’t seem to find anything on him. The only place we haven’t checked is the Restricted Section.”

“The Restricted Section?” (Y/N) repeated, wondering why a library would hide books rather than share them. “What’s in there?”

“Mostly books on restricted topics, advanced dark magic and the likes.” The intelligent girl explained, turning to look to the back of the library. “Unfortunately, you can’t go in without a consent form, and that’s never going to happen.”

“Well, can’t you just ask the librarian? Surely she’ll know something about this Flamel.” (Y/N) offered, though she was clearly intrigued.

Harry shook his head. “No way, she’ll tell on us for sure.” He said, but the moment he did his eyes widened and Ron made another frustrated groan.

(Y/N) raised a brow and felt her curiosity grow. “So it’s a secret, this Flamel stuff?” She guessed, and it seemed she hit the nail right on the head.

“Look, you can’t tell anyone.” Ron stressed, moving the stack of books from between them so she could see all of him properly. “It’s very important that no one finds out about any of it.”

(Y/N) nodded, she wasn’t one for spreading secrets. “Of course.” Seeing then that she had nothing more to offer, and not long before lunch, (Y/N) stepped away from the table to take her leave. “I’ll let you to it then, I’ll see you here in the week, Hermione.” She said, then gave a nod to the group and made her way to the Divination section.

She thought that went relatively well; at least this time they actually talked with her.

With her coat and scarf placed safely on a desk chair, (Y/N) chose a shelf to scour, and began her ascent up the ladders to have a look at the M’s. Perhaps today was a good day to go through Meteoromancy: Secrets in Storms. She did love the sweet lull of thunder.

The Great Hall was decorated beyond (Y/N)’s expectations; snow dusted trees standing twenty feet tall at the front of the room, snowflakes falling from the ceiling only to fade away halfway down, colourful ribbons and garlands hung on the walls, and everything smelt of cinnamon and pine.

It was all very light and bright and colourful… it only made her miss the smooth blacks and blood reds of their tree at home.

At the Slytherin table, (Y/N) sat picking at a bowl of fruit as everyone discussed the holidays; Saoirse was looking forward to returning to her home most of all, telling Millicent all about her dog and how much she’d missed him. (Y/N) wished she was going back to Whitby – the beachside town was so charming in the winter; there were rarely any tourists, the wind was icy cold from the sea breeze, and the famed abbey looked so beautifully haunted covered in snow and salt-ice. The Addams Manor would be decorated with silky blacks, silvers, reds, white, and plum; the tree decorated with skulls and spiderwebs, piles of gifts wrapped in black paper; and the games they would play would bring a smile even to Wednesday’s face (especially when they played autopsy).

There were exclamations of excitement and dozens of owls came flying down from the highest windows carrying letters and packages to their owners, dropping them in their laps. Saoirse, Millicent, and Bridgit tore open their letters eagerly, as (Y/N) waited for Mortis to deliver a letter from her parents.

“I’ll just be a minute,” said Bridgit after a gulp of pumpkin juice, standing with a letter in hand, “this one’s addressed to me and my brother, I need to catch him before he goes to class.” She explained with a huff, turning to find him at the Gryffindor table.

Saoirse leaned across the table to stab her fork into an untouched sausage on Bridgit’s plate, then put her own letter safely in her bag. “What about yours?” She asked Millicent. “That from your parents?”

Millicent nodded, fiddling with the page in her hand. “Yeah, just how they’re looking forward to me going back and all that. Not very long, though.”

A moment later there was a scuffle of wings from the high window as a few owls rushed out of the way, making room for Mortis to fold his enormous wings to fit through, then reopen them again to glide down. He had the usual black envelope in his talons, dropping it for his young mistress to open, and bending his head low for a pat. “Good morning, Mortis.” She greeted him as she dragged an unused knife under the fold of the envelope to reveal the off-white paper inside. “Go get something to eat.” She said, watching him waddle over to a plate of bacon; his walk might have been cute, if it weren’t for the sharp talons that tapped the table with each heavy footfall that showed his weight. With all of the long-distance flights and buffet of foods, he really was getting bigger by the month.

(Y/N) unfolded the pages to read her mother’s swirling black handwriting.

Dear (Y/N),

We understand your desire to stay at Hogwarts with your friend. If you had something to do with the injury, it shows good character that you would agree to make up for it, & for that we are very proud of you. Pugsley would very much like to know more about the injury and how it came about, & if there were any limbs lost or infected wounds. Well, you will be able to tell him yourself. After we received your letter, Wednesday subtly pointed out how Hogsmeade is a popular visit this time of year, & how it isn’t too far from your school – she will deny it to her dying breath, but I believe she misses you more than she’ll admit. But nonetheless, we agree. We have made reservations at the Hog’s Head, & will be arriving on Sunday 22nd and staying until January 5th. As for you, you may stay with us or at Hogwarts with your friend, we can make arrangements for whatever you decide. I’ve included a note for the deputy headmistress in the envelope, if you would please give it to her.

We are all so looking forward to seeing you, Darling. It has been far too long already.

Missing you,

Mother

(Y/N) let out a small sigh; Wednesday might not have been as subtle as she’d said, but her intentions worked out anyway – and her family believed the lie she’d crafted, so all was well.

She folded the letter back into the envelope and took out the page written for McGonnagal, curious to be sure that she hadn’t written anything about the lie, but was relieved to read only about last-minute plans to Hogsmeade. (Y/N) would be glad to deliver it at the end of her Transfiguration class.

A tap on the arm brought (Y/N) back up from the page, seeing Saoirse collect her bag and grab a biscuit. “C’mon, we’ve got Potions.” She said, and (Y/N) noticed she had Millicent’s letter in hand.

“Why do you have that?” She asked as they made their way out of the Hall.

“She left it on the table, I’ll give it to her in class.”

The Dungeons were icy at this time of year, which was no surprise really – actually, what was a surprise was that they let students live down there in the damp and the cold. Their breaths fogged up in the air as they descended the steps and turned down the classroom’s corridor, seeing most students already at their desks, still wearing their robes and gloves. Saoirse gave a quick indication towards Millicent, nodding to (Y/N) as she returned the letter.

Snape entered the classroom with a swish of a cloak, glaring at those left standing around. “Be seated.” He demanded with upturned lips, watching as everyone shuffled to the nearest table. Truly, that man shouldn’t be working with children.

(Y/N) saw a spare seat in the centre-left of the room, where Rahim was sitting alone, and decided to occupy it (seeing as Saoirse had panicked and immediately sat with Millicent). She gave him a nod in greeting, receiving a shy smile in return as she unloaded her textbook, notes, and parchment onto her side of the desk.

“Today we will review the Forgetfulness Potion.” Snape drawled, and if it weren’t for the fact that so many of them were scared of him, many students would be lulled back to sleep by his monotonous voice. “This includes ingredients, directions, effects, cures, and history. Find the page in your textbooks, and I want an essay of at least two feet before the end of class, or you will be finishing an extra foot for homework.” There were a few groans from the back of the room, which he ignored completely. “You’ll do well to pay attention – you will be tested on it at the start of your next term, and it will be included in your final exam at the end of the year, along with the many other potions and ingredients that we cover.”

For a long while, there was near-silence in the room, only the scratching of quills and the low mumbles and whispers of discussions. And as (Y/N) was writing about the effects of the potion (which she was already having a hard time remembering), she felt a cramp in her hand and decided to take a short break.

Rahim was writing quickly, copying a list from his textbook rather efficiently, until he noticed the bored look on his friend’s face as she studied a satisfying lower-case ‘b’ on his paper. “Um… you alright?”

Nodding, (Y/N) continued to rub her hand as she glanced in the direction of their professor, seeing he was busy marking papers with vague disappointment. “Yes, just… in need of a break.” She answered truthfully.

Rahim nodded and straightened himself out, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “Yeah, me too. But at least there’s not long before the holidays.”

(Y/N) hummed, deciding against mentioning how she was staying back. “Yeah, you can finally spend some time away from the library.” She teased, as if she wasn’t in there far more than him.

Humming a laugh, the boy gave her another shy smile, half-hidden by his dark hair. He seemed to be considering something, opening and then closing his mouth hesitantly.

(Y/N) realised that she couldn’t recall ever having a conversation with Rahim alone; they were always accompanied by Saoirse or Hermione. Perhaps that was why he was hesitating – or maybe it just made him all the more shy. “What is it?”

Rahim scrunched his brows slightly, before opting to say what was on his mind. “Well, uh… I was just wonderin’… about them books you’re always reading from the library…” He finally said, fidgeting with his quill and smudging his fingers with the first ink-stains of the day. “They’re just a bit… um… odd… I guess.”

She could tell he was trying very hard not to offend her, which she found very endearing, and was pleased that he was putting such effort into his phrasing. She thought perhaps that he could be trusted with the vague truth; after all, he didn’t have anyone to tell secrets too, other than Saoirse maybe. But (Y/N) was too tired to think up clever lies – it was a skill she’d have to work on. “I received a Message from a spirit, and I’m trying to figure out what to do.” She strategically answered.

To her surprise, Rahim didn’t seem all too shocked by this. Given his quiet nature, she’d expected a bit more of… a reaction. But instead, he seemed to be thinking over her answer seriously. “Spirit? Like a ghost?”

She waved a hand in a ‘sort of’ gesture. “Kind of… but a more dead ghost than a… living... ghost?” She cringed — not so elegantly put.

Rahim thought nothing of the peculiar answer, going along with it in understanding. “Well… where’ve you been lookin’?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Well, just about everything really. Auramancy, Occulomancy, Tarot, runes… so far I haven’t found anything helpful.”

“And Necromancy wasn’t any help?”

She stopped. For the first time in a while, her brain seemed to stutter and freeze. Necromancy.

Necromancy.

Oh how the hell did she not think of Necromancy?

“Oh… I am such an idiot.” She muttered, massaging her forehead in frustration. It was so obvious now, she seriously questioned where her head had been all this time. “Rahim, it’s extremely rare that I’ll ever say this again, but I owe you one.” (Y/N) said, earning another shy smile from the boy.

She had one last shelf to check in the library.

Thank you for reading! Pleeeease like/comment/reblog to support!

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hongcherry · 1 year

Text

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 1

"After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol's obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?"

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (f)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers (lol), strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: [general tw (won't be repeated in the other chapters)] reader has she/her pronouns (referred to as girl, miss), reader dresses really feminine, reader is not nice, character outfit descriptors, parent/family issues (marital problems), bullying | [chapter tw] “joke” that implies prostitution in a negative way, near car accident (rear end), brief mention of death thru a joke

🍒 WC: 14.8k

🍒 Betas: Huge shout out to my bae, @love-strike, for being with me throughout this whole process, for listening to me whine, for helping me brainstorm majors for OT13, and for being so supportive! tysm 😭 And thank you to @playmetheclassics, @here4kpopfics, @angelwoozi for also beta'ing this series! ty for your time and for your sweet feedback! i really cherish everyone's efforts and brains hehe 🥰💖 i understand this was not an easy task to take on.

🍒 Author's Note: HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!!!!!!!!! 🎂♥️ I started this fic in September 2022 and contemplated even publishing it multiple times. I think this will be the first fic I've worked on for so long and published. Also, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so that's exciting! It was supposed to be one long one-shot, but I ended up writing way too much for a one-shot LOL. I'm really proud of myself for powering through and not abandoning it, as I've done in the past. I also wrote this all in past tense and spontaneously decided to change it to present 😪 Anyway, please enjoy the start of this couple's journey 😁

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

When people say good students are those who arrive on time, you find it hard not to scoff. Professors should care more about how hard-working one is rather than if they show up on the dot.

Of course, you do try to make it on time, but can you really leave your house looking less than perfect? Absolutely not. Plus, the first fifteen minutes usually consist of professors getting set up for their classes, so you don’t feel like you are missing anything of importance.

Today is no different.

Ten minutes past the official class time, you stroll inside the room. Students are seated where they normally sit, some are on their phones, and others are trying to finish some last-minute homework assignments. It’s a fairly small class, and being in your senior year means everyone knows each other well. Although, most of the people in your class think ill of you and don’t talk to you.

At first, you thought it was a pity, but in the end, you realized you didn’t want to befriend those who would only talk shit behind your back. This is what you figured they did since they were never discreet when they exchanged whispers with their eyes glued to you.

Luckily, you have at least one friend in the class. Quality over quantity, right?

“Right on time,” your friend, Dae, says with a sly smile when she spots you.

You chuckle and slide into the seat next to her. “Class started fifteen minutes ago.”

“It did, but you’re right on time for you,” she explains with a knowing grin.

“Guess I need to be more late from now on,” you tease as you take out your iPad.

The device is a holy grail to you. Majoring in fashion design means all your ideas and creations over the past few years are stored there. When you don’t have it, it’s stored in secret in your house. Maybe that’s a little excessive, but losing it would feel like losing a part of yourself. After all, art creations always include a part of the creator. The device almost feels like it’s an extension of yourself—something too personal for others to peek at.

Dae rolls her eyes. “Or you could come on time. That would be different.”

“Why would I? The first fifteen minutes are worthless,” you huff and open your notes.

“I wouldn’t quite say that,” Dae answers, sliding a piece of paper over. You glance down at it.

Prepare for the annual Senior Fashion Show! Students are to create their own fashion show with a theme of their choice. The show will be toward the end of the semester in the Main Theatre (official times and dates TBD). The project will count for 80% of your grade as this will require you to use all the skills you’ve acquired as a student. When creating your show, be sure to be mindful of the following…

“This was handed out at the beginning of class. Seems like we’re going to have to work with students from outside our department,” Dae comments after she gives you a few minutes to read everything.

So, this is it.

Every senior majoring in fashion design is required to participate. You attended every fashion show hosted during your time as a student here. You were always left in awe, motivated to be a student that would leave behind a name for themselves at the college. You want to inspire the next seniors just as the ones inspired you before.

While this assignment has your body giddy with excitement, there is a part you are dreading.

People skills are not your forte.

Not because you feel awkward talking to new people, but because the conversations always end unpleasantly. Sometimes with back-handed compliments, insults, or them trying to scold you. You hope that won’t be the case while recruiting volunteers.

“So, do we have the class period to start getting things together?” you question once you finish skimming through the instructions again. You’re responsible for a lot more elements than you anticipated. You need lighting, music, a theme, backstage helpers, hair and makeup artists, an advertiser, and most importantly, models. This is when you wish you had a large network. Though, every friend you tried to make didn’t end up lasting. Dae is the only person who has stuck by your side.

“Yup,” she replies. “We’ll be doing mini assignments throughout the semester to help us prepare. I think it’s just a way for Dr. Lim to give us grades so he doesn’t get in trouble.”

“Probably,” you sigh. You are already feeling stressed. Quickly, you scribble down a list of to-do’s in your notes.

“Do you have a theme in mind already?” Dae asks after a moment.

“No, do you?” you wonder.

Dae sits back in her chair, pen resting between her fingers. “I was thinking about something with space? Maybe my main colors will be blue, purple, and black.”

“Oh? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing, though? Don’t you want to try something different?”

Although the question is harmless, the tone of your voice must have rubbed Dae the wrong way. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and then looks at you again.

“Think of it as branding, okay? Why does it bother you so much?” she wonders with a frown. Realizing your mistake, you inhale slowly.

“It doesn’t. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m sure your stage will do well,” you reply, forcing a small smile on your lips.

“No ‘sorry’?” Dae asks despite knowing it isn’t part of your favorite vocabulary.

You narrow your eyes at her. “Nope. Just don’t be so defensive next time.”

“You’re insufferable,” Dae answers. “One day, you will be sorry for your behavior.”

Shrugging, you say, “There’s always a chance, but maybe if the world wasn’t so insecure, saying sorry wouldn’t be so wanted.”

Dae exhales disapprovingly at your thought process, displeased with your reply. “Well, for now, maybe try to be more empathetic?”

“I have bigger things to worry about right now. For instance,” you start, a finger at the top of your to-do list, “I’ve got to find someone who can provide me with music.”

Fuck, it’s too loud in here.

The sounds of different instruments being played at once, all emitting different tunes, have a migraine bubbling in your head.

You make a beeline to the professor who is sitting in the corner. She is an older lady, evident by her wrinkles and gray hair. Yet, her features are soft, and the smile she gives you makes you feel at ease.

“Hello, miss, can I assist you?” she asks when you’re in hearing range.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you could help me with an assignment?” you wonder and offer her a kind smile, hoping she won’t shoo you away immediately.

“Ah, it’s alright. They’re just practicing for an upcoming assignment today. What is it you need, dear?”

“Who would you consider your best student? Is there a way you can get me in contact with them?”

The professor’s eyes widen slightly at the question. She didn’t expect that. Nevertheless, her gaze rises to scan the classroom.

“There,” she points as discreetly as she can. You follow her finger, which lands on a blonde-haired guy tuning his guitar. “Lee Jihoon. He’s the most talented student I’ve ever had.”

“This semester?” you ask out of curiosity.

The professor shakes her head. “Ever.”

You can’t stop the small disbelieving huff that escapes you. The best student ever? You aren’t sure how long she’s been teaching, but you doubt out of all her time, he is the best. He looks too young.

“Now, now, don’t judge a book by its cover,” she scolds gently. You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at the phrase. You’ve heard it too many times that its meaning lost its effect on you.

“What makes him your best student?” you question, sight going back to the man who is oblivious to your stare. He sits next to another student who also has a guitar. They seem to be friends from the way they are laughing together.

“His work is versatile and very good. I’m positive he will be the perfect person for your project.” The way she speaks about him makes you believe her. There was no waver to her voice, and her eyes hold a fondness in them you know one can’t replicate if not genuine.

“How long until they have their assignment due?” you wonder, realizing you may have to wait until the class ends before you could talk to him.

The professor smiles. “I’ll let them have five more minutes so you can introduce yourself.”

Internally, you sigh in relief. You’re grateful you don’t have to wait.

“Thank you,” you say before strolling to the man.

As you near, his friend glances up. He’s mid-sentence when he spots you, eyes growing slightly at the sight of you. You’re used to getting looks like that. Your fashion is always dressier than the average college student's. People just aren’t used to it.

“Hi,” the brunette friend says. He has prince-like features, and you almost consider asking him to be one of your models. You give him a small grin out of politeness before turning to the whole reason you came over.

“Lee Jihoon?” you ask.

Jihoon’s mouth parts slightly in surprise. “Uh, y-yeah. Do I know you?”

“No. My name’s Yn. I have a project in a class and need someone to provide music for me. You won’t get paid, but any extra experience is always good, right?” you greet, not wanting to dance around the subject. After all, this is only the first of many on your to-do list.

“What major are you in?” he wonders, brows knitted in confusion.

“Fashion design,” you answer.

Jihoon is silent for a moment. “And how did you find me?”

This guy is more difficult than you wished. You just need him to say yes.

“I asked for the best student, and you were recommended. So, what do you say? Will you help me?”

Jihoon gives you a small smile, but something about it rubs you wrong. “Sorry, my plate is a little full right now—”

“Do you need money? I can give you some afterward.”

You try not to sound desperate. Lee Jihoon is not the only music major—this is obvious by the amount of noise you hear in the background.

But you never settle for less than the best.

You have been looking forward to this project since your college tour here.

“It’s not that,” Jihoon chuckles awkwardly. “I have other assignments I have to practice for, but I’m sure there will be someone else to help you. There’s a lot of talented students her—”

“But they’re not the best,” you interrupt. What else can you offer him that will make him say yes?

“Well, being the best is subjective,” Jihoon counters, voice light so you know he doesn’t mean it rudely.

You open your mouth to bargain with him more, but his friend leans into his ear. The noise from the other instruments behind you makes it hard to hear what they are saying.

Patience is something you rarely have. The longer you stand there waiting, the more annoyed you get.

“Look, you have almost a full semester to get a song done by then. I’m sure you can find some tim—”

“Fine,” Jihoon grumbles as he shoves his friend away. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh,” you pause. You are fully prepared to go down the mental list of how helping you will help him in return. One that will be complete bullshit, but if it gets him to say yes, then so be it. Luckily, you don’t have to.

“Great!” you say.

You aren’t going to give him time to back out, so you quickly retrieve a business card you had made from your purse. It’s easier to exchange contact information, and you never know when you may run into someone important. Being in an artistic field means competition. You always need to have an eye out for something, or someone, that will help you get your name out there.

“Here’s my number. Please contact me before the day ends.”

Jihoon takes the card and examines it. “Got it. What kind of music will you need?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know,” you reply. He nods in response.

“I look forward to hearing your music. I’ll talk to you later then,” you say.

You have half a heart to wish them both luck on their assignment, but part of you is a little petty that Jihoon put you through some trouble. Instead, you give them a wave before turning on your heel.

As you’re leaving, you hear a loud sigh followed by a laugh from behind you.

“Shut up, Shua,” Jihoon groans before the professor calls everyone’s attention.

Music, check. Now, what’s next?

As you make your way down the hallway, you stumble across Dae. She is surrounded by two other male students, none of whom you know. You don’t plan to greet her since she seems busy, but the sound of your heels clicking against the tile catches her attention.

“Yn!” she calls out cheerfully.

You halt in your tracks, turning to see her smiling at you. She gestures for you to come over, so you do.

“Hey,” you say to her.

“How’s your project going?” she asks.

“I got someone to help me with music,” you reply, then glance behind her to see the two guys staring at you. Dae follows your gaze and makes a small “oh!”

“Is that all? Do you have anyone for advertising or graphics?” Dae wonders, her voice seemingly excited.

“I don’t,” you answer hesitantly. Her eagerness has you worried.

“Perfect!” she exclaims, then turns to the others. “This is Yejun and Jeonghan. They’re both advertising majors. Yejun agreed to help me with my project, but Jeonghan,” she pauses to address the man. He has blonde hair that goes past his eyes. His soft features are handsome and almost angelic.

“Jeonghan, would you mind helping my friend with hers? She’s super talented.”

Jeonghan glances at you, but before he can say anything, you ask him, “What are your skills? Do you have some work I could see first?”

Jeonghan looks taken aback. “O-oh, I don’t have a portfolio yet, sorry.”

“Ah, that’s fine,” you say before looking at Dae. “Thanks for trying to help me, but I’ll find someone else.”

Dae’s eyes narrow at you. “Come on, Yn. Jeonghan is really good!”

“Didn’t you just meet him?” you question and try to stop the scoff that threatens to escape.

“Well, yes, but Yejun has been my friend for a while, and I’ve seen his work. Yejun and Jeonghan have worked together as well, and their creations are unique!”

You inhale deeply, eyes roaming from your friend to Jeonghan. He offers you a smile.

“What your friend said,” Jeonghan replies with a small chuckle.

“Trust me on this,” Dae says. “Jeonghan won’t disappoint you.”

You don’t feel at ease agreeing to someone blindly. Dae’s definition of “really good” could be different from yours. Although her work is good, you feel your standards are way above hers. You had planned to ask for the best student for each assigned task, so having been offered a random helper with no proof of their credentials is unnerving.

Granted, you haven’t heard Jihoon’s work, but you were sold on the way the professor spoke about him. Dae, on the other hand, is not a professor and could be biased as Yejun is her friend. Though, you still have a lot more positions to fill, and you need to do so soon.

Sighing, “Fine. You can work with me.”

From the way you word your sentence, it’s almost as if Jeonghan is supposed to jump up and down with glee. He doesn’t.

You grab another business card from your purse and hand it to Jeonghan. He takes it slowly.

“Just so you know, I have the right to replace you with someone else if I see your work isn’t fit,” you warn as Jeonghan slips the card into his pocket.

His eyes lock on yours. “That won’t be necessary,” he answers, not bothered by your comment.

“Oh?” you wonder and quirk an eyebrow up.

“Hm. You also need graphics, right? I have a person for that as well,” Jeonghan says.

“I haven’t seen their work yet—”

“You’re not very trusting, huh?” Jeonghan observes with a laugh. You shift your weight on one hip, not liking the way he is trying to tell you about your personality when he doesn't know you.

“I just know what I want, and I won’t settle,” you answer sharply.

Dae huffs next to you and gives you a gentle shove, indicating you to ease up. That isn’t going to happen.

Jeonghan doesn’t reply and instead takes out his phone. His fingers dance around the screen for a minute before he turns the device for you to see. On the screen is an Instagram account with various posts of different art and graphic pieces. Your eyes drift to the username. by_xuminghao_o. His art is impressive and definitely not an amateur like you half expected.

“So, about not settling,” Jeonghan trails off, a hint of a cocky smirk on his lips.

“I expect you both to contact me before the day ends,” is all you respond with.

Jeonghan pockets his phone and nods. He seems content with your answer even though you don’t confess the art meets your standards.

“All good then?” Dae asks, glancing between you two.

“We’re good,” Jeonghan replies and gives you another smile of his—one you are starting to hate seeing. There is just something about it that seems like he knows more things than you in a cocky, condescending way.

Yejun glances at his watch and then nudges Jeonghan.

“Thanks, ladies, but we have a class to attend. Nice to meet you, Yn,” Yejun says.

You hum in response while turning away from them. Dae says her goodbyes, watching as they leave before putting her focus on you.

“Do you have to be so picky?” she sighs.

“As I said, I know what I want. I’ve waited to do this project for years. It has to be perfect,” you explain and pull out your iPad. You check off music and advertising from your to-do list. Graphics aren’t listed, but you figure it will be a nice addition.

“I understand, but—”

“Just focus on your project, and I’ll focus on mine, okay?” you interrupt. You don’t feel like hearing her lecture you for a second time today.

“Alright,” Dae answers. “I’ll see you around,” she says, walking away before you can say anything else.

With her back turned, you roll your eyes at her attitude. It has your mood lowering, and you conclude you’re done with human interaction for now. You carefully place your iPad back in your bag, then make a beeline to the parking lot, ready to go home to figure out a theme for your show.

Home is somewhere you don’t enjoy being.

It always has this melancholy cloud looming over you. You can never seem to get rid of it completely. Even on the good days, it lingers in the corner of the room, always threatening to float above you. You doubt it will ever dissipate.

Your back is against the headboard of your bed, your iPad resting against your legs that are pulled to your chest. The music playing is too low for your liking, but you know if it’s any louder, your father will scold you for the high volume. Sometimes you will raise it just to get him to talk to you. Though today is not one of those days. You want to be left alone for once, which isn't usually too hard to do unless your sister needs attention. Like now.

“Today is the last day. Pleaseeee, Yn!” your sister whines at the foot of your bed. Her small body is bouncing with desperation and eagerness.

Reluctantly, you flicker your gaze up at her. The slight scowl on your face doesn’t seem to faze her… Probably because she’s seen it so much.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” you exasperate, gesturing to your iPad.

Seoah frowns. “When are you not? Come on! It’ll take, like, ten minutes. I’ve been looking forward to getting a Fallin’ Flower frap for months! You know it’s a seasonal drink.”

“Didn’t Dad say you couldn’t have any more sweets?” you say and peer down at your iPad again. You’re in the middle of brainstorming themes for your show. There are various words within bubbles, each connected with a line.

“I’ll just get a small,” she explains. When you don’t move, she walks around the bed to stand next to you. Her voice becomes softer, sadder. “You said you would take me. Dad can’t.”

“That was before I got assigned this project. It’s my—”

“Senior project that you’ve been looking forward to since your freshman year, yeah, I got it,” she responds, reciting what you’ve told her before.

You finally look at her once more. “I’ll take you for the next seasonal drinks, okay? They’re probably better anyway.”

“But I really want a Fallin’ Flower,” Seoah pouts.

“Next year,” you offer and return your attention to your homework.

“Yn—”

“Next year,” you repeat firmly without looking up.

Seoah pauses in her begging. You think she’s going to continue, but you hear the soft padding of her feet as she moves.

“Oh, Seoah?” you call out, glancing up.

She pauses by your door and looks up with some hope in her eyes.

“Don’t forget to shut the door all the way.”

“Right,” she mutters slowly, then leaves the room. You wait until you hear the door click close prior to getting back to work.

You sit on your bed the remainder of the day, only getting up to cook dinner for your father and sister. Your eyes feel strained and your body weak, but the sooner you pick a theme, the sooner you can get started.

It’s days like these when your body is mentally and physically exhausted, that you miss your mom. You try not to think too much about her as it only makes the gloomy cloud above your head darker.

Is she happier? Surely, she is. She is living her dream as a traveling journalist. Sometimes you will see her adventures if you peep at her social media. It’s self-torture to do so, but curiosity gets the best of you. You hope one day you’ll have the willpower to block all her accounts.

At this point, you’re having the same conversation you have with yourself once a month. It never ends the way you want.

Inhaling deeply, you finish plating all the food before calling your family for dinner. While your father eats in his office, needing to continue his work, you and your sister eat in silence in the dining room.

Maybe one day things will change, but for now, you’ll have to settle with this.

You are about to knock on the door a second time when no one answers it. You have allotted only an hour for this meeting, so the longer you wait outside, the more you grow impatient. You have set mini-deadlines throughout the semester to ensure you will complete this assignment in a timely manner. You just hope your recruitees aren't going to slow you down.

Suddenly, the door is yanked open. Jeonghan stands on the other side, hair a little damp and a few wet spots on his shirt.

“Sorry about that,” he says hastily. “I thought I could shower quicker.”

“I told you eleven o’clock,” you scold. Jeonghan simply smiles.

“Never hurts to give people some wiggle room. Plus, aren’t you the early one?” Jeonghan leans back to view something. He looks at you after a few seconds. “It’s only three minutes past.”

“Early is on time,” you say as if that is an obvious life choice. Although you’re never really on time for classes, you reason that to be because the first fifteen minutes are a waste of time. This, on the other hand, is not. “Invite me in?”

Jeonghan moves aside and lets you enter. His apartment is tidy for the most part. It seems as if he had started to clean up but gave up toward the end.

“Where’s Minghao?” you wonder when you saw you were the only one here. He’s supposed to be here with Jeonghan, so you can all go over the advertising designs.

“He called and said he hit some traffic. Have a seat anywhere; I’m going to grab my laptop,” he instructs before jogging to another room. Shaking your head in disappointment, you glance around again.

Spotting his couch, you walk over and make yourself comfortable. You take out your iPad and open what you have so far—color ideas, font ideas, and a few mock-up fashion designs. It has been two weeks since you last saw Jeonghan. The majority of your tasks have already been assigned to people, but you still have to find a few more models.

“Alright, so, what’s the theme?” Jeonghan asks when he comes back. He sits down next to you, causing you to bounce slightly from his weight.

You angle your screen, so he can see it easier. “I decided on the four elements—water, ice, air, and earth. The title right now is Pinwheel.”

“This gives us multiple color options,” Jeonghan examines. “Maybe we could have five designs. One for each element and then one with all of them? That would give you a variety of exposure and make the audience feel they’re not looking at the same promo material every time.”

You sit still as you ponder his suggestion. “You don’t think people will get confused seeing different designs?”

“We can make it all tie in some way. You have your own logo, as I saw on your card. We can use that and the same fonts.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “That sounds—”

A knock on the door stops you.

“Ah, that must be Minghao. Do you mind getting that? I’m going to get my notepad, so I can try to sketch some layouts.”

You nod, setting your iPad down next to his laptop, then walking to the entrance.

“You’re late,” you groan while you pull open the door.

“Oh? Am I?” the person says with a little playful smile on his lips.

Although you’ve never met Minghao, you have seen pictures of him on his Instagram. You expected to see a head of blue hair, but you are greeted with black. Instead of a narrow face, his is slightly wider. He wears an oversized white shirt, jeans, and a colorful necklace. He looks like every other college student. Sure, he’s more handsome than the average, but not by much. Behind him are two women and one man.

“Can I help you?” you exhale a disheartened sigh when you conclude it isn’t Minghao. Meaning, he’s even later than you wished for.

The guy chuckles. “I doubt it, but Jeonghan can. Is he here?”

His voice is slightly deep. You may have found him soothing to listen to if it wasn't for his irksome words.

“He’s busy right now. You can come back in an hour, though,” you instruct and start to close the door. You don’t need any distractions.

The man sticks his foot out to stop you, causing you to exhale annoyed when you can’t get rid of him. You open the door slightly again.

“Just tell him I’m here,” he says, his teasing tone not so visible anymore but still light enough to not sound too rude.

“And who are you?” you question apathetically.

“Jesus,” someone hisses behind him before shouting, “Jeonghan, come here!”

Your eyes gaze past the man to see a woman with short-length dark hair. She eyes you haughtily, hand on the man’s forearm as if she were to push him away. Though she never does. She takes in your attire, and you once again get a look of judgment at your choice of dress. Your white dress paired with a same-colored, opened button down and beaded chain around your hips is apparently not her style.

“What’s going on?” Jeonghan asks behind you. Reluctantly, you move aside so he can see. “Oh, Seungcheol! Right. One second. Come on in. I’ll get those papers for you.”

“Actually, do they need to come in? They’re not staying long,” you say quickly before any of them can move.

“Relax, princess, he’s just being friendly. You know, like when someone is kind, thoughtful, and considerate?” the girl questions as if you’re dumb and makes her way inside despite you standing close to the door. It forces you to move over.

Her friends follow along. Three of them stand in the living room, while the second guy sits at the kitchen bar before pulling out his phone. You watch them with a fire inside your chest. Not only are Jeonghan and Minghao late, you now have to deal with this obstacle.

Just as you’re shutting the door, you see a glimpse of blue down the hall. Finally.

“You’re late,” you repeat, but to the correct person this time.

“I know, I’m sorry! Oh, are they helping too?” Minghao says, pausing at the entry when he sees the group of people inside.

“No. Get in,” you huff and point a finger in the apartment. Minghao enters without a fight.

“Hao!” the second girl exclaims with a smile.

Great. Do they all know each other?

“Hi, Hana,” Minghao greets with a gentle grin.

“What are you doing here?” Hana wonders.

“I’m helping Yn with her project,” he answers and gestures to you while you shut the door.

Hana looks your way, and you can see the distaste in her expression; however, she doesn’t say anything.

Jeonghan walks out of his room with a folder in his hand. “I hope this is what you need,” he tells the first man—Seungcheol, you presume.

Seungcheol smiles and takes it from him. He flips open the folder, doing a quick glance through the papers inside.

“Looks great,” he says. “Thanks for getting these for me.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replies.

“Hannie, do you want to come to Shining Diamond with us this weekend?” the first girl asks, tilting her head in a way that appears as if she’s begging for a yes.

“Ah, this weekend?” he hesitates. “I have a test on Monday I was going to study for.”

“A few hours won’t hurt you,” she replies.

“Alright, Hajun, but only for an hour or so,” Jeonghan says with a not-so-stern voice.

“Great! Minghao, do you want to come, too?” Hajun asks.

Minghao shrugs. “I’ve got nothing else, so sure.”

Hajun grins widely. Her eyes go past Minghao to see you standing in the corner, your arms crossed and eyes staring daggers at everyone.

She doesn’t say anything, but her look tells you you aren’t invited. As if you are silently begging to join. The thought makes you scoff quietly.

“Cool. You all scheduled your weekends,” you start and walk back to the couch. You turn briefly to Seungcheol, who is eyeing you already. “And you got your things. Can we please continue?”

Your gaze shifts to Jeonghan at your question. He offers you an apologetic look before nodding.

“I’ll see you all this weekend. You can text me the time,” he says while walking to the door.

“We can decide that now,” Hana suggests.

“Or over text like Jeonghan said,” you interject. She narrows her eyes at you.

“Be patient. It’ll only take a few minutes,” she replies.

A few minutes, my ass.

“I’d rather you use those minutes to walk out the door.” You give her a faux smile.

“Have some respect,” Hajun scolds.

You laugh though you don’t find any of this humorous. “What a hypocrite. How about you respect people’s times?”

“I did tell Yn I’d help her,” Jeonghan cuts in sheepishly and opens the door to hint at them to leave. “I’ll text you all later, or you guys can come back in a bit.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lingers on yours as he walks toward the door. Your eyes catch on his as he makes his way into your line of sight. His stare has an unsettling feeling form in your stomach, and you contemplate asking what his problem is. Before you can, he turns to Jeonghan.

“Thanks again,” he says as he lifts the folder.

“No problem. Talk to you later,” Jeonghan replies.

All his friends have filed out except for the one male who hasn’t said a word. He glances at you. You expect to receive another jab about who knows what. Instead, he gestures at your body.

“Nice chains,” he compliments with a smile.

Your eyes widen slightly as you glance down briefly at your outfit. That was certainly unexpected. “Uh, thanks.”

“Come on, Vernon!” Hana yells from the doorway. Vernon gives you a thumbs up, which is uncanny given the situation, then follows his friends out the door.

Once they leave, you narrow your gaze at Jeonghan and Minghao. They’re quick to apologize again and start asking questions about your project before you can lecture them. Lucky for them, your hour is almost up, so there isn't enough time to do that anyway.

Weeks go by with you working nonstop on your project. Annoyingly, you also realize that the majority of the people you recruited to help all know each other. It usually isn’t something to be irritated by, but each time they run into each other, they usually end up making small talk that you have to break up. They can do that on their time, not yours. Even more frustrating is that this so-called Seungcheol and his groupies know them all as well. Their reactions to seeing you are always the same—ones of displeasure. Though the feeling is mutual.

You learn they are all business majors, except for Vernon. Well, he was a business major, but he plans to switch to something else. You can’t blame him. If all the business majors act revolting, you would leave that department as well.

Seungcheol… He isn’t as bad.

You have only ever hung out with him by himself for less than five minutes. Those conversations spur when you’re both left alone after one of your “mutual friends,” because none of these people are your actual friends, abandon you both. The conversations are awkward and never hold any weight. He doesn’t throw snide remarks at you, but his presence still makes you uneasy with the possibility. You’re normally the first to leave because of that. Maybe if he didn’t have those obnoxious friends, you could tolerate him more. You can’t help but associate him with them though. You simply want to get away from them, even if that includes him. Not that you are craving his presence anyway. You barely know him and aren’t interested in changing that.

“Those are looking awesome so far!” Dae exclaims when she peers over your shoulder to see your sketches.

You smile at her and set your iPad down on the table. The weather outside is perfect, given the cool breezes in the heat. It eases your mind, and you feel more creative being in a new environment.

“Thanks, how are yours coming along?” you question and wait for her to angle her own iPad to you. On the screen are various designs, each with a hint of purple or blue.

“Those are neat,” you compliment.

“Yeah?” she says and beams at you. “What about this one? I think the shoulder looks a little weird.”

You reach over, using two fingers to zoom in on the screen to examine it.

“Maybe just lower this,” you gesture on the screen, careful as to not move the screen on accident. “You could take this part out too and make it asymmetrical.”

Dae hums, lips pursed in thought. “I’ll try it. I guess I won’t really know until it’s on someone.”

You nod in agreement before focusing on your designs again. After a while, Dae excuses herself from your homework session. She had planned to meet with one of her helpers. You bid her a quick goodbye.

Ten minutes pass when you see someone standing in front of your table, blocking your sunlight. Your eyes rise to see who it is.

“Hi,” Seungcheol greets.

You straighten your posture upon seeing him. He wears a basic navy suit that fits him well. To your surprise, it actually looks decent on him. Your eyes dart around him to see if any of his friends came.

“Just me this time,” he answers the question in your head.

“What is it you need?” you ask blankly.

“Must I need something?” he retorts.

You suppress the eye roll you want to give him. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here to tell me about your day.”

“I can if you want,” he responds, then to your utter dread, he sits down across from you. From the position he is sitting at, the breeze is blowing his hair forward and into his face. He raises a hand to push it back, but it’s no use.

“You can spare me. Tell me what you want and go,” you instruct. This is the first time he has approached you—and alone, for that matter. You don’t want to make it a regular thing.

“Always straight to the point,” he chuckles.

“I just don’t like my time being wasted,” you explain.

“So, I’m wasting your time now?” His eyebrow quirks up.

“Should I spell it out for you?” you scoff. It should be obvious that you don’t feel like talking to him.

“You can try, but do you know how to spell it?” he stares at you through the hair on his face. Even though you can’t see him clearly, you can tell he has a challenging gleam in his eyes.

“At this point, I think you just came to bother me,” you sulk.

He smirks at you. “I didn’t, but it is a little fun to see your feathers ruffled.”

“They’re perfectly content being unruffled.”

Seungcheol chuckles at your response. He pushes his hair back, but this time he rests his hand against his head, keeping his hair in place. His elbow is propped on the table while his other arm lays flat on the surface.

All the times you have seen him, his hair has covered part of his forehead. Now, it’s all exposed, and you feel you can see him. Maybe it’s because he’s donning a suit for once, but he looks almost… handsome like this—dressed formally with a small glint in his eyes and his lips spread in a gentle smile.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he replies. “I think you need to have more fun.”

Well, he was handsome until he opened his mouth.

“I don’t need a stranger telling me how to live my life,” you say.

“A stranger? I would think we’re at least acquaintances,” he frowns.

“You only see me because your friends are helping me. Speaking of, is that why you’re here? Does it have anything to do with one of them?”

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, and you can’t stop your eyes from lowering to his mouth.

“Maybe,” he answers slowly. Your eyes snap back to his when he speaks. He gives you a knowing smile that has you shifting in your seat. You had only looked at his lips because he brought attention to them. Nothing more.

“Are we playing twenty questions?” you groan, finally unleashing the eye roll you have been trying not to do.

“We can,” Seungcheol says with a shrug. “You asked three already—more if you start from the time I sat down.”

Exhaling a deep breath, you put your forehead on the hand that’s propped on the table. The conversation is slowly draining your energy. The need to be alone becomes stronger with each second.

“Seungcheol,” you warn. You are not about to play a guessing game with this man. “Please.”

“Oh, so that word is in your vocabulary.”

“Yes. Would you like me to use it in a sentence?” you question, pitch raised as if you’re talking to a toddler. You lift your head to glare at him.

“Sure,” he smirks and leans forward. He still holds his hair back and this time, you can really see the way he is goading you.

“Please fuck off,” you grin widely. Your head tilts to the side as you push your arms together to act overly cute.

“Please make me,” he counters. The smirk he wears is still plastered on his lips.

“If we weren’t in public, I would,” you say, voice returning to normal as you relax your body—the cute act over.

“Oh? How?” he chuckles. From the way he looks at you, you know his mind has gone elsewhere.

You push at the arm that is stretched across the table. “Because I would rather not get caught for murder, you pervert.”

Seungcheol laughs and sits back, letting his hair fall back into his eyes. It’s the first time you notice he has dimples. Your first impression is that they are cute, but you quickly recall who they belonged to and shove that thought from your mind.

“Seokmin wanted to let you know he lost your card,” he finally discloses. “Asked if you could give him another.”

“If he lost a simple card, is he really reliable?” you sigh as you grab another from your purse.

“The good news is those stage lights are so big, he won’t be able to lose those,” he says, taking the card from your hand.

“Thankfully,” you mutter. “I hope you’re better than Seokmin at not losing things.”

“I’ll get this to him, don’t worry,” he replies and puts the card in his suit jacket. You want to ask why he is wearing that, but that will mean you will prolong this conversation. Fortunately for you, he starts to stand up before you succumb to the temptation.

“Thanks for the talk,” he says as if you had a choice. “I’ll see you around.”

You would have doubted that, but you know that won’t be true.

The second time Seungcheol approaches you by himself is a few days later when he catches you exiting a building he is approaching.

“Don’t tell me someone else lost my card as well,” you say after he calls your name. You readjust your bag on your shoulder as you wait for his response.

“About that,” he starts sheepishly.

You put your weight on one hip and cross your arms, and set your mouth in a straight line. You wait for him to tell you who is the perpetrator.

“I may have left your card in my suit jacket when I washed it.”

Well, that explains why you haven’t received a message from Seokmin yet.

“Seriously, Seungcheol?” you exasperate.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” he says, lips pouting and eyebrows angled.

Shaking your head, you retrieve another card. You make a mental note to restock later as you are running out.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab it from you, but you quickly pull back.

“Put this in your bag,” you instruct.

You slowly give him the card and watch as he slings his bag around to his front. He makes a show of unzipping one of the front pockets and sliding it inside.

“Done,” he says, acting like he should be rewarded for doing as he was told.

“Good. Is that all?” you wonder. You’ve just finished your last class of the day, and all you want to do is climb into bed.

“Yes.”

Seeing no need to continue the conversation, you start walking in the direction of the parking lot.

“Great. Bye, Seungcheol,” you say over your shoulder.

“Hey, wait,” he says quickly, walking briskly to be by your side. “We’re going in the same direction.”

You peer up at him momentarily. “That doesn’t mean we have to walk together.”

“You said before we’re strangers. This would help us not be that anymore,” he shrugs casually.

“I never said I wanted that,” you reply flatly.

“It might benefit us since we’ll have to see each other a lot.”

“Is that so?” you sigh sadly.

Seungcheol smiles at you before shoving his hands in his pockets. “You did ask my friends to help you.”

“Well, if I knew you were a package deal, I wouldn’t have.”

“Come on. I’m not that bad.”

Sighing, you slow your steps to look at him better. He stops next to you, awaiting your response. His gaze is hopeful, but you’re not sure why.

“I’ll agree if you leave me alone,” you finally say.

Seungcheol’s lips dip in a frown. “I’ll get you to admit it one day.”

He starts to walk again before you can reply. Now is your chance to let him get a few feet from you. You have the opportunity to finally end this conversation you’ve been dreading. Though, for some strange reason, your feet quickly move on their own accord.

Seungcheol’s steps are small, and you catch up with him easily. Neither of you says a word, but you can see a hint of a smile on his lips.

Instead of parting ways once you reach the parking lot, he follows you to your car. Something about it being dangerous for you to walk to it alone, even though it’s light out.

“Yn?” he says to catch your attention when you open your door. You turn and give a small “hm?” in response.

“My friends and I plan to go to this poetry lounge in two weeks. Would you want to come?” he asks. You aren’t sure why he appears to be anxious.

The shock you feel must be evident on your face because Seungcheol’s apprehensive expression relaxes into a gentle smile.

“Business friends or our ‘mutual ones’?” The idea doesn't sound so bad if you are hanging out with the people who are helping you. Although you have your issues with them, they aren’t that bad to be around if you’re being honest.

“Business.”

That’s not what you want to hear.

“Do your friends know you’re asking me this?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, but I don’t need their permission. What do you say?”

You can’t recall being invited to a night out with someone other than Dae. If you were to go out without Dae, it would be with your family or for a class assignment. To be invited to a place by Seungcheol, out of all people, catches you off guard.

Despite having an opportunity for a different change of pace, you answer, “No.”

“No?” he asks, perplexed.

“Your friends don’t like me, Seungcheol,” you explain matter-of-factly through a sigh, leaning against your open door.

“They just like to tease you. I’ll talk to them before,” he explains.

Tease is a funny way to describe it, you think.

“I don’t need you fighting my battles,” you answer, referring to the latter part of his reply.

“Still. I want you to enjoy yourself. You’ve probably been glued to that project of yours. Step away for a bit,” he reasons.

He isn’t wrong. Your focus has solely been on the project. Of course, you have other classes, but you aren’t putting as much effort into them as you are this one.

“I’ll pick you up and pay for any expenses,” he offers. The more he talks, the more taken aback you are. You figured he’d drop the offer once you rejected him. From every interaction you’ve had with these “friends,” it never ends well. You doubt this will be any different. Regardless, something in you feels a little… honored he is so adamant about getting you to come.

Thus, hesitantly, “Fine.”

Seungcheol’s face breaks out in a grin. “Okay. I can give you my number, so you can text me your address.”

He starts to pull out his phone, but you stop him.

“No need,” you say. At Seungcheol’s confused expression, you continued with a faint smile, “You have my card.”

His mouth opens briefly in realization before the corners are pulled up.

“One step ahead, I see,” he teases, pulling it out to inspect it as if confirming your number is there. You suppose he may think you’re lying to get out of going.

“I’ll text you then,” he concludes and places the card back.

“Alright,” you say, shifting your weight. You aren’t sure if he wants to say anything else. Why are you giving him the time to? You have already given him enough of it.

Sensing your readiness to leave, he waves as he slowly takes steps backward. “Drive safely, Yn.”

“You too, Seungcheol.”

You climb into your car’s seat, turn on the engine, and watch as he makes his way through the maze of cars until he is out of sight.

That Friday comes sooner than you would’ve liked.

Throughout the times you had met with your “friends,” you had bumped into Seungcheol one-third of the time. Sometimes, you were left alone with him again. Each interaction you had with him became easier the more you talked to him.

Dare you to admit; his presence wasn’t actually teeth-gritting anymore? At least when he was alone, you didn’t have to deal with his business friends. Despite him not usually laughing at their jokes, he never really stepped in to stop them teasing you at first. Maybe only a few times when he felt things got too heated. He wasn’t your best friend, but part of you did hope he would’ve said something.

Each time he didn’t, you felt your disappointment rise. He apologized on their behalf constantly, but his apology meant nothing when they kept insulting you. However, lately, he has been stepping in sooner. Although you didn’t want him fighting your battles initially, some things you couldn’t do alone. One thing you and his business friends had in common was that no one really knew where the sudden change of attitude came from. For once, you didn’t complain, though.

You’re tempted to cancel this outing, but talking to Seungcheol a few days ago made you realize he was a little more excited than he was letting on. The reason is unknown to you—maybe he really likes poetry lounges—but you’d feel slightly guilty if you ditch last minute.

It’s not like you haven’t been out on a Friday night with people, yet your heart is beating rapidly in your chest. You have changed about six times, exchanging your accessories with each outfit. Normally, you would dress up more, but these aren’t your friends you’re about to hang out with. They are Seungcheol’s—business majors who think skirts more than two inches above the knees mean you’re a slut. Though, you can’t figure out why that matters. You never dress with the thoughts of others. If you want to wear something that day, even if it’s “over-the-top” for some, you wear it. So, why are you in such a fashion dilemma now?

In the end, you settle for a simple, spaghetti-strapped red dress that is slightly bunched on the sides with strings that are tied in bows. You pair it with a small, heart-shaped purse and white heels. There isn’t any bling in your outfit, which is unusual for you. The accessories you wear are minimal and small. They are a matching cherry set you were gifted by your mother on your 12th birthday. Although it’s been years since you received them, they’re still wearable and delicate enough not to call much attention—unlike some of your other accessories.

You reach for a white fur jacket only to stop when your fingers graze it. Your eyes travel to yourself in the mirror as you debate on wearing it. The jacket will be too much, you conclude.

The buzzing of your phone catches your attention. It’s Seungcheol telling you he’s five minutes away. After stuffing your phone in your purse, you quickly apply red lipstick and toss it in your purse for later touch-ups.

When your phone buzzes again, you hurry to your front door. Your family is home, and you don’t want Seungcheol to meet them. Life at home isn’t ideal, and the only person who has a hint of what is going on is Dae. You doubt Seungcheol will find that out from one quick meeting, but you don’t want to risk it.

You throw your door open, ready to meet him at his car. Instead, he stands in front of you with a hand raised. He takes a step back in surprise. His eyes glide down your body quickly, but you’re too concerned about your family coming to notice.

“Oh, hey,” he greets. “I was just about to knock.”

Before any of your family can intervene, you close the door and start your way down the porch steps. Seungcheol follows you.

“You didn’t have to. I can make my way to your car by myself,” you answer. Although you’ve never been in his car before, you’ve seen it around. Plus, it’s the only unknown vehicle near your home.

You stand next to the passenger door and wait for him to unlock it, arms wrapped around your body when the chilly weather hits you.

“You sure you don’t want a jacket?” he asks when he notices you didn’t bring one.

“It didn’t go with my outfit,” you explain. It’s a lie. The coat did go with your fit, but you didn’t feel like disclosing the fashion crisis you had gone through.

Seungcheol chuckles. “So, you’re going to freeze instead?”

“It’s not that cold,” you lie again.

“It’ll get colder later, though,” he explains and comes closer to you. You step aside when he is a few inches from you. You press your arms tighter around you, eyes averting from his because of his close proximity. The small distance has you wanting to squirm away, but your feet can’t move. He peers at you with a small smile while he reaches behind you.

“My lady,” he murmurs when he pulls the door open and gestures for you to get inside.

“How chivalrous,” you reply after you force your nervousness away. You carefully slide inside his car, situating yourself comfortably in the seat.

Seungcheol waits to ensure you have all your limbs inside before shutting the door. As he walks around to the other side, your eyes scan his car. The seats are leather, and the interior has higher tech than you thought it would. It is a nice car—not overly luxurious, but enough to show it isn’t cheap. It makes you wonder how much it costs.

“You warm enough?” Seungcheol questions after he gets in and buckles.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, hands resting awkwardly in your lap. The heat from the vents aids in your goosebumps disappearing.

Your mind is already wondering what to expect tonight. You know his friends aren’t fond of you. At least most of them. That guy, Vernon, seems nice enough. He is the quiet one in the group; however, you did notice he has his own quirks that make him unique. You foresee yourself hanging out with him most tonight. But even then, you don’t feel too great about going.

The longer you sit in Seungcheol’s car, the more you regret agreeing to this.

He stares at you for a moment; brows knitted together slightly. You feel uncanny acting so meek, and Seungcheol can't help but notice.

Silence consumes the small area for a few seconds until Seungcheol says, “Seatbelt.”

You look at him confused, then realize he is talking to you. Of course he is, who else?

“Right,” you mumble, quickly pulling the belt over your body.

“You don’t have to come, you know?” he says with one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on the gear stick.

You sigh and gesture to the road ahead. “Let’s just get going. I’ve got stuff to do after.”

It isn’t completely a lie. You still have to work on bringing your designs to life for the show, but it isn’t like you are behind schedule that you need to do that tonight. You just know you might actually back out if you ponder on leaving more.

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, averting his focus to the road. He doesn’t reply and obliges to your request by shifting the car into drive.

During the ride, your gaze drifts to Seungcheol. He is relaxed in his seat. One arm stretches to hold the wheel while his other rests on his thigh. One which is clad in a pair of light-washed jeans with a black belt between the jean loops. He wears a white shirt tucked in and a black jacket.

You peer forward slightly to read what his shirt says. Propriety of Balenciaga? The Balenciaga? You don’t think he’s wealthy enough to afford one of those shirts. Perhaps it was a gift or a knock-off brand? Maybe he thrifted it… Though, Seungcheol doesn’t seem like the thrifting type.

“Do you need this?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. He’s holding his jacket open to show you what he means. You must’ve been staring too much.

“No, I’m okay,” you say and turn your attention away quickly. “I just didn’t realize you wore glasses.”

Although the comment is true, you need something to say before he questions why you truly are staring at him. You had noticed the spectacles earlier but didn’t feel like mentioning them.

Seungcheol laughs lightly, “Actually, I don’t. I just thought I’d try to improve my fashion. What do you say, did it work?”

He glances at you after stopping at a traffic light; his mouth quirks up in a teasing smile. You turn toward him and scan his face quickly. They do look good on him, but you aren’t going to tell him that.

“They certainly did something, but whether that effect is good or bad is a secret,” you reply, looking away again.

“I’ll take that as you not wanting to admit they look nice on me,” Seungcheol says and continues driving at the green light.

“I think they’d look better on someone else,” you answer. Though, you don’t believe what you said. Something about the glasses on him has you wanting to stare at him more. They fit his face well and make him appear more attractive. You don’t want to sit on that thought for much longer.

“Is that so? Here,” he says, pulling them off his face. The glasses come into your view, and you stare at him, puzzled.

When you don’t take them, he adds, “They won’t bite.”

You roll your eyes at his comment and finally grab them from his grasp. You pull down his sun visor to look at yourself. After sliding on the spectacles, you turn your head from side to side to see the different angles.

“I think I was right. They do look better on someone else,” you tease and face him as you shut the visor. Seungcheol turns to you at your reply.

His eyes wander across your face, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

“Maybe I’ll have to agree with you this one time,” he says. His stare lingers on yours so much that it has you shifting in your seat. When you avert your gaze, your eyes widen.

“Cheol!” you shout as he was about to rear-end another car. Instinctively, he shoots an arm out across your chest that has your back pressing firmly against the seat. The sudden act causes you to reach up and grab onto his arm tightly.

The car screeches as it comes to a sudden halt. Luckily in time to not hit the other car.

You both sit still, breathing intensified at the near accident. After a few seconds, Seungcheol retracts his arm. It’s then you realize you’re still holding onto him. Your eyes dart to his forearm and frown when you see small crescent shapes indented in his skin.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

Seungcheol’s focus is ahead of him but glances at you in confusion at your apology. “What?”

You quickly gesture to his forearm. When he sees the marks, he rubs a hand over them absentmindedly. “It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you reply, heart rate slowing down to normal.

“I’m alright. Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t make you play dress up in the car.”

“No, it was my fault.”

Seungcheol eases on the gas pedal when the light turns green, keeping a safe distance from the car in front. He remains quiet for a while to ensure you are both safe.

“Are you sure you’re okay? First, you apologize, and now something is your fault?” he jokes.

You don’t remember what you said a few minutes ago, so it takes a while for you to comprehend what he is saying. “Shut up,” is all you can respond with in the end.

Seungcheol laughs but doesn’t pester you about it any longer.

“Oh, you can take these back,” you say and tug off the reason for almost hitting another car.

“Thanks,” he mumbles as he slides the glasses back on his face.

You nestle yourself back in the seat again and glance out the window. As the buildings pass, it dawns on you that you’ve never called him Cheol. The thought of using a nickname for him has your body tingle with an unknown feeling. It’s strange. You aren’t the first to call him that, but you aren’t that close to him to start using nicknames. Annoyingly, you spend the remainder of the car ride fretting about how he felt toward you shortening his name.

Did he even notice? If he did, did he like it? Had you crossed a line?

When he parks, you become acutely aware of everyone’s attire. Many wear jeans or tights with a plain shirt and jacket. A few have on skirts or dresses, but they are more t-shirt dresses or plain skater skirts, if anything. Plus, they are accompanied by tights because of the weather. No one has as much skin showing as you do.

The sinking feeling of not belonging consumes you. You can’t remember the last time you felt this way, and that alone has you questioning yourself even more.

“I’m too dressed for this, aren’t I?” you think out loud.

Seungcheol turns off the car, eyes raking your body again. Though this time, you’re aware of it. You tug down the bottom of your dress at his stare. It’s not like it’s predatory, but it still has your nerves skyrocketing.

“Since when did you care about what others thought of your outfit?” he wonders. The question has you sighing, momentarily closing your eyes as you remind yourself you dress for you, not for others’ approval.

“Right,” you swallow harshly and sling your purse over your shoulder—mentally throwing away the negative thoughts too. “Let’s just go.”

With that, you open his car door and step out.

“Yn wait—” you hear Seungcheol call out right as you shut the door.

Your hair is immediately pushed from your face as the wind blows past. It makes your body shiver, and for a split second, you wish you took up Seungcheol’s offer to grab a jacket when you were at your house.

Seungcheol’s car beeps as it locks before he stands in front of you. His broad body blocks the wind, and you feel your own ease from feeling a tad warmer.

“I’m sorry if that came off rude,” he apologizes softly. “I think you look great.”

You look at him, face void of emotion. You don’t believe him, but you don’t want to argue. At least not standing in this weather.

“Okay,” you reply. “We need to go meet your friends.”

You take a step forward, thinking it will get him to start walking toward the building, but he doesn’t budge. You only decrease the distance between you two.

“I mean it,” he whispers.

Goosebumps are forming on your exposed skin the longer you stay out. You blame the cold weather for them, but something in your chest tightens at the way Seungcheol is speaking to you.

“I think red is your color,” he pauses. “You should wear it more, Cherry.”

Your head tilts at his last word. “Cherry?”

The corner of his mouth raises at hearing it from your lips. Slowly, he brings a hand to your face. You stand still as you stare at him with wide eyes. His hand brushes past your cheek before he grazes his fingertips along your ear.

“It suits you,” he murmurs, eyes moving away from yours.

You follow his gaze and realize he has been looking at your cherry-charmed earrings. His eyes then flicker to the matching cherry-charmed necklace resting below your bare collarbones. You’re not sure if he means the color suits you or if the nickname he just made suits you. Either way, you’re surprised at his words.

Suddenly, the weather doesn't feel as chilly anymore. Your body heats quickly at his comment, or maybe it’s from how close he is to you. Nevertheless, you need to distract yourself from this warm, odd feeling bubbling in your chest.

You clear your throat and step back. His hand lowers steadily.

“I’ll think about it,” you reply more confidently and clearly.

Seungcheol takes the hint and moves aside, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He nods his head in the direction of the building, and you start walking toward it. Your pace is slightly faster than his, but you don’t mind not walking next to him. If anything, you need distance from him anyway.

The moment you open the door to the lounge, the heat from inside greets you in full force. You step inside and are welcomed by a worker. He is young, maybe a few years younger than you. He gives you a friendly smile.

“Hi, are you wanting to be seated, or are you with a group already?”

“With a group,” you reply. The worker nods.

“Do you need help locating them?”

You shake your head as the jingle of the door opening sounds behind you. Seungcheol stops behind you. His hand comes to hover over your lower back, not really touching you, but close enough to feel the heat radiate from his hand onto your skin. It has you shuffling away.

“They’re over there,” he says. You peer up to see where he is gesturing. Fair enough, you see his friends at a table toward the back of the building. There are five of them, all smiling at each other. You can spot a few familiar faces—one of them being Vernon. You feel a little at ease knowing he made it here.

“Thanks,” you murmur to the worker before making your way to the table. The closer you get to the table, the slower your steps become. You’re used to keeping your chin high in situations you aren’t completely comfortable in. The whole “fake it until you make it” is on repeat in your head.

Yet the saying is not encouraging you much right now.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Seungcheol asks when he catches up to you. You don’t realize you had stopped a few feet from the table.

“No,” you say. You aren’t mad at him; you just need some space from him for now. You don’t like how you aren’t in control of your emotions when you’re around him. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.”

Seungcheol eyes you for a second before nodding. You make your way to the bathroom, but right before you enter, you can hear the welcoming echoes coming from his table of friends. All of them sound cheerful and excited to see him. You don’t expect any of them to look forward to your presence, yet you feel a little disappointed when no one brings up your name—in a positive way.

After using the restroom and washing your hands, you stand in front of the mirror with your hands lingering under the warm water. Your eyes roam your face and body, taking in your appearance. Compared to your normal fashion, you really did dress down. You sigh when you realize you’re circling back to the same issue.

You retract your hands from the faucet and grab a few towels to dry them.

It doesn’t matter if you’re overly dressed. You usually are and don’t care. You look great. You should feel confident in your fit.

You gently tug the dress down before turning in front of the mirror.

You look fine. You look nice.

As you reapply your lipstick, you keep repeating compliments and reassuring phrases in your head.

They’re going to look at you funny. You are going to ignore them.

“That’s right,” you sigh to yourself as you toss the lipstick back into your purse.

Suddenly, your phone starts to vibrate. You pull it out to see Dae’s name appear across the top. You eagerly answer her call.

“Hey babe,” Dae’s voice comes from the other line. “How’s it going?”

“I’m ready to go home,” you say with a small huff.

“Damn, that horrible? Is he treating you badly?” Dae questions. You had told her about Seungcheol’s invitation when you got home that day. She was shocked, but ultimately supportive of you going.

You shake your head despite her not being able to see you. “No, he’s been fine. I just,” you pause. Although you have your ups and downs with Dae, she has stayed with you when no one else has. You don’t disclose your troubles often, wanting people to not see that side of you, but you’re feeling too low that you can’t stop the confession from coming out.

“I’m way overdressed for this place. Everyone’s in jeans or tights. I don’t belong here,” you say.

Dae sighs sadly. “Jeans are boring. I think I only own a pair,” she answers, trying to make you smile. “Just remember, if you were to die right now, would you want your last outfit to be something boring?”

“No,” you answer slowly.

“Exactly. These are people who are used to looking plain. They’re probably jealous you’re outdressing them. Don’t let them get to you, Yn. I’m sure you look beautiful.”

Your shoulders ease at her words. “Thanks, Dae.”

“No need. If they had the talent to dress themselves better, they would.”

You let her words sink in, but the reassurance doesn’t last long.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you say, beginning to pace the small area in the bathroom.

“It’s good for you to be around people from outside our department. It’ll make you more open-minded,” she encourages. “Plus, Seungcheol isn’t as bad as he seemed, huh?”

There is a teasing tone to her voice that you don’t like.

“One outing with him doesn’t mean he’s my friend,” you argue.

Dae giggles. “No, but it’s a start. Do you like him?”

“No!” you answer quickly.

“I was just asking in general. Not ‘like’ as in crushing on him,” she explains nonchalantly, but you can hear her smile.

“He’s,” you pause as you try to think of a word to describe him, “he’s been alright.”

“Well, I better let you get back to him then. I just wanted to check in,” Dae answers.

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” you say.

“Remember, you don’t need their approval. You never have, and you never will. People want the confidence you have.”

“I’m not feeling too confident right now,” you mumble.

“That’s because you’re overthinking. Chin up, okay?”

Sighing, you reply. “Okay.”

“Good. Talk to you later!”

“Yeah,” you say before hanging up.

Taking one last look at yourself, you roll your shoulders back and exit the bathroom.

Seungcheol is sitting in the middle of Hajun and someone you don’t know. His eyes lift to meet yours when he hears the sound of your heels.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks.

Nodding, your eyes roam for a spot to sit.

“You knew you were just going to a poetry lounge, right? Not the runway,” Hajun comments with a small scoff.

Your eyes move to look at her, and you quirk an eyebrow. She wears leggings with a graphic tee. Her discarded jacket is slung over the back of her chair. “Are you sure you know that, as well? Or did you think you were just going back to your bed?”

“This is how normal people dress,” she replies.

“Relax, Hajun,” a voice you don’t know sounds. You direct your attention to them.

The guy has black hair that is parted on the side to expose his forehead. His eyes are narrow, and even though he has a soft appearance now, you’re sure his gaze can be fierce when needed.

“People don’t need to dress up for special occasions,” he says.

You’re taken aback by his comment. Seungcheol’s friends have always questioned your wardrobe, so for this new “friend” to not agree with Hajun is surprising.

“No, they don’t, but you gotta’ admit she’s a little overdone huh, Soonyoung?” Hajun replies.

“Hajun,” Seungcheol interjects, giving her a pointed look.

“I understand not everyone knows how to dress. It’s okay, though. I can offer my services if you need some help,” you comment, half tempted to reach in your bag to get a business card. Although you aren’t on campus, you never know when you’ll run into someone who will make a good connection, so you keep them with you wherever you go.

“Services?” Hajun laughs and rests her crossed arms on the table. “And what ‘services’ are you offering? Because from the looks of it, I can tell exactly what you offer. Sorry, I’m not interested.”

Her eyes roam your body once more, indicating that the way you are dressed, means your services consist of paying to be with people in bed.

“I don’t think those services would help you anyway. Your rotting attitude is enough to repel anyone. Though I guess some people are willing to lower their standards when they’re desperate,” you counter.

“You’re such a—” she starts.

“Can we talk?” Seungcheol asks Hajun quickly, but he doesn’t give her the option to answer because he takes her hand and pulls her away from the group.

The table is silent for a few seconds before Soonyoung speaks up again.

“Don’t pay any mind to her. It’s nice to meet you. You must be Yn?” He smiles at you, slightly bowing at you.

“Correct,” you say, trying to not show how irritated you feel.

“Come sit,” he offers, pulling up a chair so you’re sat between him and Vernon. You thank him before sitting in the chair. You sit your purse in your lap as conversations begin to spark again.

Their voices become background noise as your gaze drifts to Seungcheol and Hajun in the corner. They stand close to each other and are in a deep conversation—clearly about you. Seungcheol has his back to you, so you can’t see his expression, but you can see Hajun’s. Her lips are in a frown, her expression not as sassy as before.

Though her pouting seems forced, her bottom lip a little too far stuck out. Soon enough, she rolls her eyes, an expression similar to how it was earlier. Her eyes then move from him to you over his shoulder. When she catches your gaze, she smiles and raises a challenging eyebrow. However, her gaze doesn’t last long because Seungcheol’s hand comes up and guides her eyes back to him. Even though his hand isn’t touching her completely, she leans into his touch. The act has you stilling.

“Yn?” Vernon questions, tearing you from your thoughts. You don’t realize you’re clutching your purse until your focus goes to Vernon. You ease your grip and raise an eyebrow.

“Soonyoung was asking what your major was,” Vernon explains.

“Oh,” you say, glancing around the table. It appears the others are in their own conversation.

You look at the man to your left. He gives you a reassuring smile that tells you he is patient. “I’m studying fashion design. Are you in business, too?”

Soonyoung shakes his head with a laugh. “I could never. I’m a dance major.”

“Wow, that sounds nice,” you say. “Aren’t your career choices limited with that, though?”

“A little,” Soonyoung replies honestly. He doesn’t seem offended by the question. Maybe he gets it a lot. “But it makes me happy. I can always teach or maybe even become a dancer in a well-known group.”

You hum, understanding his words.

“Isn’t fashion design limited, too?” Vernon asks.

“Clothes are everywhere. I can do a lot with it.”

“But not everyone will wear your clothes,” Hana says, having finally heard your discussion.

“There will always be someone,” you argue, confident in your work. It may be a slow start, but you believe in your designs.

She laughs. “Who? Your mother?”

Your eyes narrow at the mention of your mom, and Hana is quick to notice the change in attitude. Instead of letting go of the topic, she continues.

“Ooh, trouble at home? See? I knew the ‘Great Yn’ isn’t as perfect as she seems,” Hana says. What makes her think you are so “great” is unknown to you, but you aren’t surprised to guess people have made up a persona for you.

“Stop, Hana,” Vernon says, but it has no effect.

“Oh, so we were right?” Hajun’s voice comes from above. You glance up to see she and Seungcheol have returned. It appears their little chat did nothing to keep Hajun from being a bitch.

“Seems so,” Hana says with a smile. “Care to share with the class what kind of mommy issues you have?”

“No wonder she dresses like that,” Doyun, another one of Seungcheol’s alleged friends, adds. “She’s not getting attention at home. I guess Daddy isn’t there either?”

“That’s enough,” Seungcheol scolds them all.

Your eyes are darting from everyone at the table. Their stares are akin to shrink rays, making you feel tiny and minuscule. You know when you aren’t welcomed, and there’s no reason to stay listening to this. You want to snap back, end the conversation with your own last words, but nothing comes to mind.

In lieu, you push your chair back and stand up. Your hands twitch with the temptation to dump their food all over them, but you just want to get out as soon as possible.

You waste no time careening for the exit.

Seungcheol calls your name; you ignore it. The worker from before sees you, telling you goodbye, but you couldn't care less and push past the door before he can finish his sentence.

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sudden breeze that slams into you. Instantly, your arms wrap around you once more. You glance around and see a bus stop down the street. You don’t care that it’s the other way from Seungcheol’s car. You hurry to the station, not sure when the next bus will come.

The bus stop isn’t deserted despite the cold weather. The area must be busy all the time since the sidewalks are littered with more people than you expect. All the seats at the stop are taken, yet you still shuffle under the shelter in hopes to get away from some of the breeze.

You are shaking, and your teeth are chattering. It’s impossible to force your body to stop since you need to generate heat somehow. You probably look like a pathetic naked chihuahua in winter.

You take out your phone, open up a browser, and search for bus times. Thankfully, there’s one coming in three minutes in the direction you need. The thought of taking the bus is not pleasurable. You hate the idea of your skin touching something so many others have touched. It feels unsanitary.

Accidentally leaning back against the wall while you silently groan has you jumping at the cold material touching your bare skin. Your jolt catches the attention of an older woman who is sitting near you.

“Aren’t you freezing, child?” she asks as she stares at your attire—or lack of.

“I’ll be fine soon,” you say, not really in the mood for talking.

“Where is your coat? Did you not know the weather was going to be cold?” she continues.

Utterly done with all the people-talk tonight, you hiss, “Focus on yourself. I’ll focus on me.”

She seems startled at your outburst. Her already crossed arms tighten as she turns away from you. Her muttered “bitch” doesn’t go unnoticed, but you don’t say anything about it. There’s no point in arguing with a stranger.

The sound of the bus calls your attention, and you mentally thank the universe for the great timing. After people leave and all the new patrons enter, you finally take a step up the bus’ steps. Before you can climb all the way, you hear your name being called. You look past the bus doors to see Seungcheol running toward you.

Just what you need.

You disregard him and step farther up the steps of the bus.

The bus driver looks expectantly at you, and it dawns on you that you need to provide payment before you can board fully.

“Card?” you wonder. The bus driver nods and gestures to a device to the right.

As you unzip your purse, you feel a hand grip your arm.

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks, slightly breathless. His hair is disheveled from running, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Home, idiot,” you huff and pull your arm out of his grasp so you can retrieve your card.

“Just come with me. We can talk somewhere else,” he pleads, a hand stopping your movements again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Seungcheol,” you hiss. “Now, let go of me.”

He hesitates but slowly releases your arm. He doesn’t leave, though. “I’ll take you home. You don’t need to take the bus. Come on.”

“Go with him or get on! We have places to be,” a passenger exclaims, clearly annoyed with your drama.

You raise your head to the person, narrowing your eyes in a glare that tells them to pipe down. It has no effect on them. They shoot a fierce look back.

“I know you don’t want to take the bus,” Seungcheol comments quietly.

He’s right. Not only do you not want to sit next to a lady whose arms are filled with shopping bags—the only available seat—you really don’t want to add time to your trip home.

Seungcheol reaches out again and carefully takes your hand in his. This time, you don’t fight him as he guides you off the bus. Once you’re both off, the bus doors shut and begin its trip down the road.

You watch it silently, not knowing Seungcheol is discarding his jacket until you feel the warm material cover your shoulders. Your eyes snap back to him as if remembering who you’re with.

“I’m sorry they said all that stuff. I told them not to do that tonight,” he says remorsefully.

“Oh, so you’ll let them talk shit about me another day?” you chide and start walking away from him. Thankfully for Seungcheol, it’s in the direction of his car.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he replies as he hurries to catch up, which doesn’t take much effort as you aren’t walking too fast due to your cold, stiff legs.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll do that whenever they want to. They wouldn’t be the first,” you scoff.

“It doesn’t make it right regardless,” he says. You halt in your steps, causing Seungcheol to stop and turn to look at you.

“I talk shit about people behind their backs, too. Does that make me a bad person?” you question. Perhaps if he sees you as one he’ll leave you alone.

He exhales a deep breath. “Let’s just get in the car, okay?”

“You can admit it,” you challenge and walk closer to him. “Does talking shit about someone make me a bad person, Seungcheol?”

He stares down at you, soft gaze turning dark with annoyance.

“To the car, Yn,” he demands slowly just in case you won’t understand; his tone is sharp in a way you haven’t heard before. You don’t let that scare you away. Maybe if you weren’t so fired up, you would have been a little intimidated.

You laugh darkly and roll your eyes at his command. “You want me to sit next? Bark, too?”

“Now, you’re just being dramatic.”

Dramatic, he says.

“Woof?” you reply, dramatically giving him the best puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

Seungcheol’s jaw clenches at your response—not pleased with your sarcasm. However, instead of replying in an annoyed tone, he takes a step forward. His head draws closer to your face to ensure your eyes are glued to his.

“Wanna be a good girl and go to the car, Cherry?” he murmurs lowly, an eyebrow quirking up for a second.

His sudden change in tone has you stiffening. You want to bite back—figuratively or literately… you aren’t sure yet—but you can’t even remember what you are mad about in the first place.

“Hm?” he croons when you don't reply quickly.

Rather than a sarcastic reply, you simply grumble, “whatever,” before pushing past him to get to his car.

You stand next to the passenger side like before, waiting for him to unlock it. Seungcheol comes beside you and swiftly unlocks the vehicle. Although you aren’t arguing at the moment, you can sense some irritation lingering from him.

You get the feeling he'll always hold the door open no matter how annoyed he is with you.

You feel suffocated.

The air in the car is too hot. The weight of his jacket has you overheating. The tension is unbearable.

Seungcheol keeps his eyes on the road, not throwing you a single glance as he drives. Every once in a while he will tighten his hold on the steering wheel. One time you even catch the way his muscles flex at the motion—now exposed from not wearing his jacket. You never realized how fit he is. This isn’t the first time you have seen him sleeveless, but you just never stared long enough to notice. Or if you did, you simply didn’t care. Regardless, you notice now, and you have to force your eyes away before he catches you staring.

You want to ask for music so you don’t have to sit in this insufferable silence, but your mouth feels dry. You decide to just deal with the quietness, shifting in the seat so you’re facing the window more. Your eyes drift close as you let the hum of the car distract you.

Seungcheol’s jacket is snuggled around you, and his woodsy cologne fills your senses. It’s pleasant, and you don’t mind if you smell more of it in the future.

By the time you arrive home, you are on the verge of sleep. You stumble out of the car and shut the door without saying a word to Seungcheol. You expect him to drive off, but the sound of his tires moving never comes. Instead, you hear his car door opening and closing.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” you say while you glance behind you. Seungcheol is following you languidly.

“No, I don’t,” he says and pauses at the bottom of your porch steps. He places a foot on the first step while a hand holds onto the rail. You have your keys out, ready to slide them into the keyhole when you speak.

“Then don’t,” you reply sternly.

He chuckles lowly but doesn’t say anything about it.

“You can go now,” you say when he doesn't move.

“You have something of mine.”

Puzzled, you stare at him for a second. Seungcheol gestures to your body, and you quickly remember you’re wearing his jacket. You tug it off and toss it to him. He grabs it from the air with ease. The loss of heat makes you wish he didn’t say anything.

“Goodnight, Cherry,” he murmurs as soon as you click open your door. You step inside before turning to face him.

The nickname you used earlier forms on your tongue, yet you can’t find the courage to say it consciously.

“Night,” you answer, then shut the door before either of you can say anything else.

With your head bowed, you turn the lock slowly while you exhale deeply. His nickname falls from your lips under your breath—unable to keep the desire at bay.

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A/N: Can't believe the first chapter is actually published 😭 I sat and stared at this for a few before hitting "post" because I'm so anxious! dfl;kbjdvs. Please feel free to share your thoughts on it so far!

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