#hello what the fuck you are a complete stranger demanding things of me absolutely not????

[enbeemagical]

Hey guess what cashiers do not find amusing?

"I want your discount"

"....excuse me?"

"I want your discount. Give me your discount."

"why"

"To save me money. Come on, give me your discount."

Literally what the fuck dude. You're a total stranger and you're not even being polite

[cheshirsh]

Hello! This is an absolute hail mary and there's a nonzero chance I'll just annoy you for no reason, but I saw your tags on the sacrificial maiden post (on account of being the OP, which actually makes this not anonymous, it's just easier to gather the courage to send things this way) and sort of. sat with them for a hot second. and decided to reach out - which I realize is a wild thing to do, but the trouble is I was there. I mean, not exactly going through whatever you are, on account of all people are different, but for a good chunk of my life I was suicidal. And I can't just, put all the hope for life I gathered over the years into a single Tumblr ask, but I can tell you a bit about the thought behind the post. Back in the day I used to idealize the noble sacrifice as like, the most solid way to go - there's a purpose, nobody would blame you, it feels complete. And while the post is very bitter it is first and foremost bitter at death, at this very idea of a noble sacrifice, because fuck no, actually, nothing, no "worthy" cause is worthy enough to demand your life of you. The people who thought they knew how much the sacrificial maiden's life is worth are dead wrong, because the answer to the question of "what's a solid enough reason to take a life?" is nothing, nothing is. And this isn't any deep philosophical shit, it's just that while you're alive there's always More Stuff. There's always a chance it all changes, fuck, maybe it even gets better. Maybe three years from now there's a day when you wake up and feel the happiest you've ever been, or maybe just okay enough that the idea of being around for a few more months doesn't feel too bad. It's not something anyone can really convince you of, certainly not a stranger on the internet, because I remember people telling me this three years ago and it all sounded like nonsense. The thing is, it doesn't anymore. There's some sort of tipping point between "couldn't be me" and "oh, yeah, that actually happened to me I think" I wasn't able to track, but it is there. I don't know if this is anything, but I genuinely hope you'll be okay. I hope we both are. This might all be nonsensical and silly but it's also probably the most sincere I've ever been.

hey, thank you

this made me cry

it does actually matter (even to the people on the internet who only know of me by tags) that I am here now even if I don't want to be. I really want to believe it would be better, I can never be sure it will, but your words give me some hope.

I think that I have a mental block on the actual action of suicide because I am conscious of the consequences of this, so the only way I see myself doing this would be when I am completely alone so there would be no one to be sad about me. I hope it gets better before I end up alone

thank you. I hope I won't find a "good enough" reason to die

[rubydracogirl]

A short, original ghost story I wrote a few years ago. Inspired by various experiences I had hiking around the Blue Ridge Parkway. I always loved the story of Rip Van Winkle so there's a tiny bit of inspiration drawn from that as well.

Rated T for swearing

'Fate Diverted'

The fog was so thick, Casey could hardly make out the details of the trail. She was leading the way for her partner and their friend, when she almost bumped into someone; another hiker.

“Having trouble in this fog?” The stranger enquired in a kind tone.

“We are,” Casey replied wryly. “We didn’t think the weather would change so quickly.”

“I’ve hiked here a lot. I know the area really well. Why don't you follow me?” The stranger offered kindly.

Casey glanced at her partner, who gave a shrug. Everyone they had met in the rural area had been kind, and it was really almost impossible to see in the fog.

Casey nodded to the stranger.

“Everyone join hands. Don’t let go.” The stranger warned, reaching for Casey's hand.

Casey held tight as she reached back for her partner and they all began to follow the stranger.

Casey had been on many hikes before, on a variety of trails, but this felt different. The fog swallowed them completely, and the longer they walked, the more she began to have doubts as the stranger guided their steps.

“Are you sure this is right?” She asked as they turned onto a sharp decline.

“Yes. Trust me, this is the right way.”

Casey bit her lip but followed carefully. All at once, she was grasping at nothing.

“Hello?” She called, alarmed.

“What happened?” Her partner demanded.

“They let me go!” Casey blurted as she swung out, trying to feel for the stranger who had been guiding them.

Nothing.

A chill swept over her shoulders as the fog began to lift, revealing two things at once: the stranger was gone, and they were back at the parking lot.

“What the fuck?” Casey’s partner uttered in disbelief.

Before they could have a proper discussion, a crack of thunder sent them running to their parked vehicle. An absolute torrent followed, sending them retreating to the nearest town.

It wasn’t much later that Casey learned that the trail she, her partner and their friend had been following had been horribly washed out in the rain that day.

If they had stayed on the trail… they might not have come back out.

She gripped a hand to her mouth as she recalled the stranger that vanished after guiding them to the parking lot.

“… thank you.” She murmured quietly, unable to articulate anything else.

FIN

[tainted-wine]

Subject: RAPTOR

Nomu!Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

This GIANT is the lovechild of this amazing fanart and this ask:

I twisted the shizznit out of that ask, but the inspiration is still there. A thank you to anyone who makes it through this very long ride.

This fic does takes some liberties in the creation of nomu. Some factors will deviate from canon.

Words: 20k+

You can also read this long-ass story on AO3 if that’s more comfortable.

Heed these warnings: Blood and Death, Teratophilia/Monster-Fucking, Breeding, Mutant Genitalia, Unethical Experimentation, Mutilation, lots of handjobs and cum, LOTS of long tongue action and I’m ashamed, Brief Suicide Ideation, and Shitty Science

——–x——–

Fertile nomu were the greatest breakthrough that the villains could ever hope for. Breeding saves so much time and resources, as opposed to artificially creating each specimen from scratch. There were two major “programs”, as these sick bastards insist on calling them. 

The Mating Program, where the nomu were paired together, one with male sexual organs and the other with those of a female, though there was also the occasional subject that managed to possess both. It was an unpredictable process; miscarriages were common, sometimes the offspring dies minutes after birth, or the fetus develops too rapidly inside the womb and the birth becomes a violent bursting out of the parent’s body. Weaker nomu, usually the ones incapable of rapid regeneration, have been killed from such incidents. “What a waste,” those bastards in lab coats would say.

And then there was the Milking Program, in which semen was collected to later be frozen or artificially inserted into ‘other creatures’. Yeah, they say it as if ninety percent of those creatures weren’t humans.

You were an unwilling member of the latter program, but the assholes sure did love making it sound like they were doing you a favor.

“This entire precinct is yours,” they said. “Your very own farm of all-powerful beasts!”

Gee, thanks. Just what you always wanted, to jerk off abominations and collect their cum. To be fair, it could be worse. At least you weren’t one of the unlucky ones being impregnated. Your possession of a quirk, albeit a mostly useless one, probably saved you from that fate. Those without a quirk had a higher chance of passing down all of the Nomu’s abilities. Just another addition to the long list of Why Being Quirkless Fucking Sucks.

The weaker and simpler nomu aren’t an issue. A sort of imprinting drives them to obey your every command. Hell, jerking them off isn’t even needed — you can literally just order them to ejaculate, and the damn things are spewing out their putrid seed before you can even prepare your containers.

The most troublesome part of your “job” was the High Ends. They are powerful, sentient, and God help you, have an actual sex drive. They were obedient to an extent, but you can’t hold complete control over something that was specifically designed for independent thinking. You were responsible for only five of these advanced nomu, and that was too many. The touchy bastards always wanted more than just a handjob, vocalizing their lust through distorted throats. The long, beastly groans of “inside” and “give pussy” echoed in your head throughout the day and into the night.

These things can literally pound you into mush, and the very thought of carrying their horrifying children makes your throat burn with rising bile. You don’t believe it’s worth risking your life just to please their monster dicks.

That was all before they introduced you to a new ‘pet’. You stood in the hallway of your assigned area of the old hospital and watched two approaching figures. Ugh, another damn High End to make things more difficult, but this one made your heart skip a beat. 

Most of the creature’s body was a solid black, just like the rest within its tier. It was more slender than the others, upper body leaning forward with the support of long legs with joints that reminded you of a bird. Both its hands and feet were covered in scales and ended in large talons. A grand pair of ebony wings were folded behind its back, and a muscular feathered tail swayed with its movements. Overall, its appearance was a mixture of avian and reptilian.

The feathery wings were a huge hint, but absolute certainty struck you when you made eye contact, gold-filled eyes with a bird-like slant on a face that still managed to stay youthful after so many alterations to its body. You listened in on the villains’ conversations whenever they were around. With no access to any kind of media in this place, it was the only way to stay up-to-date with everything happening outside of these cursed labs. You remember hearing about their latest victory, how they managed to overpower and kill the number two hero of Japan, dreadful news that you refused to believe. But the beast that was eyeing you curiously gave you no choice but to accept the truth.

Hawks has become their newest nomu.

The doctor accompanying him smiled proudly, commanding the monster to take your side. You gulped and tried not to flinch in his presence; you were always extra tense around new additions that didn’t know you yet. “Hawks is dead,” the doctor said calmly. “Say hello to our latest work: Raptor.”

You think you’d rather stick with ‘Hawks’. The doctor doesn’t wait for a response before continuing. “We expect samples from this one daily.”

The shocking demand has you speaking before you can stop yourself. “Why?”

The man’s impassive eyes darkened and you shrink back, considering an apology but deciding that it was best to just keep your mouth shut. Prisoners like you followed a set of rules, the most important one being ‘No Questions’. They’ll feed you to the very beasts entrusted in your care without batting an eye.

Lucky for you, this man was willing to give you a pass. “Analysis, fertilization, storage for future plans…many matters that don’t concern you. Expect me every morning to take it in for testing. Until then, get it settled and collect the first sample.”

You shuddered, sneaking a glance at Hawks, who was busy looking up at the occasional flicker of the ceiling light. It was careless to underestimate how observant the High Ends were, but this is the first time you’ve seen one so openly curious. Normally they would just absently stare at nothing when left idle.

Only when the doctor turned to leave did you finally give the newcomer your full attention. “Hawks?”

He continued to watch the blinking bulbs with great interest.

“Um…Raptor?”

You nearly jumped from how quickly his entire body turned toward you, completely still and waiting for whatever instructions came next.

You scratched at your head nervously. “Right, I guess that really is your name now. Well, come with me.”

He followed you down the old hall and past the rooms where others of his kind rested, talons tapping against the tiles with each step.

 x---x---x---x---x 

Raptor’s exposed frontal lobe throbs.

He doesn’t remember anything before his awakening in that cold and wet chamber. Was there anything before? Had he just been born?

Perhaps…but it just didn’t feel right.

x---x---x---x---x

  Like all the other nomu, Hawks’s private space was nothing more than an emptied patient room. Their loyalty was the only thing keeping them from breaking down the old doors or tearing through the worn walls. Every minute spent alone with these superhumans was a gamble with your life.

But again, the newcomers make you extra nervous.

You stood at the door while Hawks examined his new home. He sniffed and pawed at every nook and cranny like an animal in unfamiliar surroundings, straightening his flexible spine to touch the ceiling before lowering himself on all fours. He seemed just as comfortable crawling as he was with walking; you can only imagine how incredible his agility has become. The beloved wing hero was best known for his swiftness in defeating and subduing villains, and it looks like the mad scientists sought to maximize his talents. The average nomu was built to be an indestructible powerhouse. Hawks was built to be an even more efficient predator than he already was.

As much as you didn’t want to interrupt him, you had a job to do. “Raptor…”

His head whipped around to pin you with a sharp stare, molten yellow slits revealing the red irises that only appear when focused. You tensed, but he made no further movements.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. Nomu respond best to a confident and assertive voice. “Just relax and stay still. It’s time for me to collect some sperm, if you even know what that means.” You grab the jar that you had already prepared in the corner.

He shook his wings and soft mane of hair, leaving his head a poofy mess. Well that was…cute. You approached him before setting the container back down and reaching for the pathetic rags they called shorts. It’s beyond ridiculous how these sadistic doctors are willing to completely violate and alter a person’s corpse, yet they force the abominations to keep their junk covered as some form of decency.

A low rumble vibrated from his chest as you dropped to your knees and pulled down his only article of clothing, allowing the not quite human-looking cock to spring free — a thick base with a curved shaft decorated with scale-like ridges on the top and bottom, then tapering to an arrow-like head, twitching and growing each second. You’ve seen stranger dicks, but it still catches you by surprise. Was Hawks’s dick always like this?

Is that a distasteful question? He is technically dead.

The moment your hand made contact, a loud hiss rushed past his teeth and he stepped back, wings flapping as he backed away until he hit the wall.

“Calm down.” His reaction startled you, but your voice remained steady. He wasn’t showing any signs of aggression, his widened eyes and timid posture gave the impression that he was just caught off-guard. “Calm,” you repeated more softly.

A few seconds pass while his breaths slow and he stands straight again to give you access to his fully hardened cock.

You try to move more slowly, at first running just your fingertips along his length to ease him into the feeling. You smiled at the sight of his face relaxing; he was surprisingly expressive. “See? It’s not so bad, is it?”

His mouth opened to give you a glimpse of sharp teeth that could easily shred your flesh, but the only sounds that come out are several choked peeps. He winces and brings a clawed hand to his throat.

“Can’t talk yet, huh? Don’t worry, it usually takes a few days for you guys.” You closed your fingers around his shaft in a firm grip and began to stroke him.

The soft purrs must mean that he has fully given in. He thankfully hasn’t made any grabs at you yet; only staring down and watching you explore every inch of his pitch-black meat, taking his leaking pre-cum and smearing it all over for lubrication.

His wings shiver and his tail begins to swing wildly—you flinch at each loud thud whenever the powerful limb whacks the wall or slams into the floor. You briefly wonder if the feathers on his tail are capable of becoming sharp blades like the ones on his wings.

The purrs become low growls as he begins to bend over your kneeling form, muscular thighs quivering around you. His cock was twitching under your quickening pace, notifying you that it was time to grab the jar and get ready. “No need to hold back. Go ahead and cum.”

He obeyed with a high screech and two sets of talons seized your shoulders, tearing through cloth and digging into your skin. You yelped, but didn’t halt your milking of his cock, ensuring each spurt of cum landed inside the container. Blood can be felt trickling down your arms, his grip on the verge of crushing bone until he finally lets go after his final spasm. You release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you sealed the jar and stood up. “Good, now rest,” you said through clenched teeth and turned to leave.

A distorted chirp is heard behind you; you twisted your head to see Hawks rushing forward, and your heart jumps into your throat. Fuck, what did you do? Did turning your back excite him? Running wasn’t a smart option at this point. You held the fresh warm sample close to you as you shut your eyes and braced for whatever the nomu had planned.

But when he was close enough for you to feel his hot breath against your back, nothing happened. Then there were fingers, the same fingers that pierced your flesh with their hooked claws, lightly tracing over the bleeding wounds. It was a touch that was way too gentle for a monster created to kill.

You heard the choked sounds again, and you take a look at his face as he strains to form a word, eventually giving up and mouthing it instead. What you read from his lips was something that hasn’t been said to you during your entire time in this hellish hospital.

‘Sorry.’

He retreats to a corner and curls up his entire body like an animal sleeping in the cold.

You felt like the one unable to speak now, mouth opening and closing in search of a response. Eventually you were able to collect yourself. “It’s alright…I guess. Not the first time one of you has handled me roughly. First time one of you showed any regret, though…it’s honestly really freaking me out.” You giggle uncomfortably and decide that you need to hurry up and treat yourself before the scratches get infected. “Rest,” you make sure to command before rushing out of the door.

The restroom held a shabby but functional shower that will rid you of the blood, and the workers were at least generous enough to give you the bare minimum of first-aid along with extra gowns. A couple excruciating dabs of alcohol on the open wounds should clean them up just fine.

You’ll have to think about Hawks’s odd behavior later. You still had other nomu to tend to.

 x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #1: Fierce Wings

Notes: As the host’s original quirk, we don’t expect Raptor to experience any difficulties with Fierce Wings. It should serve more as a refresher for his memory. With a brain more advanced than any other nomu so far, he should still be quick in attacking and reacting. His slightly enlarged wings will allow for greater endurance during flight, and of course, a bigger arsenal of feathers. The feathers on his tail are also to be tested.

The room that Raptor stood in the center of was filled with targets everywhere—some static, some moving in fixed patterns. The humans in coats were a safe distance away and watching him closely.

“Raptor, strike the targets with your feathers.”

He didn’t even have a chance to see which one gave the order before his body was already reacting. It took only seconds for him to pin the locations and time the movements of each target. In a flash, black sharpened feathers darted in multiple directions and pierced every mark in the room.

He didn’t care about impressing the Coats, but he still released a pleased hum after hearing his entire audience gasp. The whole situation felt familiar for some reason. Completing such a test felt so natural to him, he could probably do it blindfolded.

“Again, but this time use only the feathers from your tail.”

He obeyed. With his body lowered and tail raised, it only took two seconds longer to hit each mark.

Several more tests took place. He chopped objects of different materials and varying thickness, sliced apart a combat robot while using only his tail as a blade, and showed off his speed and aerial maneuvers during a small obstacle course.

His brain pulsed painfully. He doesn’t understand why taking so many commands was such a painful struggle.

He didn’t mind the tests much. At least he can actually do something in these test fields, as opposed to sitting in his empty room all day. After the very pleasant time spent with you, it was nothing but hours of pacing, scratching, and grooming out of boredom.

You mentioned there being others like him in those rooms. How do they handle having absolutely nothing to do for so long?

“Its mind tends to wander, doesn’t it?”

He turns to the source of the voice and finds a pair of Coats that stared at him like they were trying to probe his mind with just their eyes. The rest were scrambling about, discussing the excellence of his performance and scribbling notes.

But these two only seemed interested in watching him get lost in his thoughts. He stared back, waiting to see if they had any commands to give.

One of them only smirked as the loyal creature stood at full attention. “Yes, not very hostile, either. Not only is he capable of higher levels of thinking, he is the first High End that doesn’t host the body of some brutish villain. A more complex mind often comes with very human...quirks.”

Raptor blinks. They really enjoyed saying that particular word.

x---x---x---x---x

When you stepped into Hawks’s room for the second morning, you were ready to step right back out when you saw the state of it.

Claw marks everywhere, covering the walls and floor like webs embedded in the surface. Hawks was looking at you closely while stooped low to the floor, but his body appeared relaxed and not ready to lunge.

Not a single hair on you moved when you spoke. “Are you alright?”

He tilted his head at the question, releasing a puff of air through his nostrils before returning to whatever he was trying to do to the floor. He wasn’t violent with his movements. The talons scraped across wide curves, long lines, other patterns with seemingly no goal in mind. Looking around at the other claw marks, you realize that none of them are the angry slashes of a beast throwing a fit. They all looked to have been drawn in a calm matter, twisting and turning into random non-specific shapes.

“Raptor, are you…bored?”

He paused his carving to look at you again and releases a long and drawn-out groan, throat vibrating along with the vocals. Was that a whine?

All of the High Ends had traces of their original personality, but this was on another level. It wasn’t unwelcomed, however. “You know, when the other High Ends don’t have anything to do, they kinda just…I don’t know, it’s like they put their brains on a power-saver mode. You can’t do that?”

His brain responds with several strong pulses. Gross, you’re never going to get used to that pink-gray matter moving around. After what was apparently deep thought, Hawks gave a softer groan and shook his head.

You couldn’t help but laugh humorlessly at this entire situation. “Incredible. You’d think that these smartasses would know that making a creature of extraordinary intelligence—I bet that’s what they said—would mean that your big gross brain needs regular stimulation. Geniuses, my ass.”

Hawks gave a beastly snort. Seems like he agrees with you. You don’t mean to sound like those insane bastards, but it truly was incredible to see a High End that showed interest in casual conversation, not just commands or any opportunity to cause destruction.

Feeling confident that he won’t maul you out of boredom, you finally approach and kneel in front of him. “Sorry, there’s not much I can do about that,” you said with genuine sympathy. “Not like I have any entertainment of my own. My room sucks too. But—“ You held up your fresh new jar. “Maybe we can kill some time together again? God, that makes me sound like a sex worker for you guys.”

You don’t know if he has a sense of humor, but he clearly understands your hints and perks up. He stands so that your face is leveled with his groin, black scaly hands tugging at his shorts until a loud rip causes him to grunt in frustration. You giggle and decide to help tear the rest off. “They were just shitty rags, anyway,” you said.

He was already growing right in front of you. Your hand wraps around him for a second time, thankful that it doesn’t startle him again. He tenses for only a moment, but quickly relaxes when your stroking begins, a large pair of testes swinging freely now that there was no cloth to contain them.

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but gasp. “You’re not even built as big as the other nomu, but those are still impressive. I guess you’ve got plenty of samples to give, huh? Good, ‘cause I’ve gotta do this every damn day.”

You received a purr and a swish of his tail in response. It was a one-sided conversation, but it was still pretty refreshing. Milking the other High Ends was an uncomfortable task, one where you always had to be prepared with a loud and strong “No” or “Stop” whenever their excitement evolved into aggression. Every minute was tense, and despite your occasional wish for release from this shitty life, you didn’t want a violent end at the hands of these sex-hungry monstrosities.

His reactions weren’t too different from yesterday; he was being more vocal and less shy about physically expressing his pleasure. The massive black wings blew your hair back with each powerful beat, and his tail was thrashing about even more wildly.

His deep purrs weren’t unpleasant, slowly changing into higher mewls as he got closer. “Come on, just do what you did last time.”

And so he did, delivering another fresh sample straight into your container with a warped cry. His hands lingered right over you, clenched in tight fists that surely had those sharp talons digging into his rough palms. You couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if he was trying not to grab you this time. Would he really care about that without being told?

Hot, tired breaths blew into your hair as he recovered from his climax. Then, with his head reared back, he let out a yawn. You even heard a faint little whine similar to a dog escape him. It would have been pretty endearing if it weren’t for just how widely his mouth was opened, displaying the scary set of teeth within. Does he really use those in combat?

With his still-dripping member going flaccid, he returned to the spot he was scratching at, lazily tracing the markings that were already made. The thought of him doing this for another ten hours or so made you frown. They probably wouldn’t care if you stayed in this room a little longer than usual, would they?

Shrugging, you kneeled down again, this time resting beside him. Hawks stopped and looked at you curiously.

“Sharpen one of your feathers and give it to me,” you ordered.

Almost immediately a feather appears right in front of you. You grab it, taking care not to cut your fingers on the razor-like barbs. When’s the last time you’ve held a writing utensil? Shifting awkwardly next to the large nomu, you took the quill and began scratching lines into the floor. The hot heavy breaths and overall warmth from his close presence was hard to ignore. You’ve never been this close to a nomu for any reason that wasn’t jerking them off. He remained calm, watching your hand closely until you finished drawing a small grid.

“You know how to play tic tac toe?”

He blinked.

“…Okay, it’s pretty simple. You fill a space with either an ‘O’ or an ‘X’…”

Somehow, teaching a killer monster how to play a common children’s game was weirder than making him jizz. He caught on quickly, favoring X’s. You were winning each game at first, but once he figured out all of the possible patterns, every game was ending in a draw. You drew larger grids, sometimes having both of you move to a different spot for more room. Most matches were still draws, but he will sometimes catch you by surprise and scratch a row of three X’s that you didn’t notice in time, his tail swishing out of what may have been pride or enjoyment.

After a while you decided to show him other shapes. Maybe he can experiment with them more when you were gone. Who knows, soon he might be drawing more than random lines. He wasn’t bad company, to be honest. Then again, your standards have taken a nosedive ever since you winded up in this facility of unethical science. It was nice to spend time with anything that didn’t want to just tear you in half with a massive cock.

Only when you felt like you overstayed your welcome and stood back up did you realize how much of a mess you both made of the floor and walls.

“Oops, it looks like a bunch of kids got in here,” you said while looking at the collage of shapes and lines. Hopefully the doctors won’t find this too strange; he was pretty intelligent, after all. “Well, it’s about time I take my leave. You keep practicing your doodling skills, I guess.” With the jar of white fluid back in your arms, you headed on out, but a large hand grabs onto your arm.

Hawks’s yellow eyes were wider than usual, a scraping, guttural noise leaving his throat as he toyed with his voice.

“Sss…..aaayy…” Just like the other High Ends, his vocals were warped and all-around unsettling, but you could hear it, traces of the playful and smooth-talking hero that you used to watch during interviews and talk shows. It was barely there, but it was still there.

“St…aay.”

You couldn’t help the sad smile that graced your face. He was looking at you like a puppy. “Sorry, but I don’t know what they’d do if they notice me staying here for too long,” you explained.

He winced from the strain of his vocal chords. “Come…back?”

You shook your head. “There are cameras in the halls. I shouldn’t be going in and out of your room.” You tensed under his grip, afraid that refusing him like this will anger him. He has been very docile so far, but you don’t know what it takes to set him off.

Thankfully, he lets go of you and backs away with another one of those whines. For God’s sake, were you really feeling bad about leaving one of these...things?

To be fair, in the two days you’ve known him, Hawks was already much different from the others. Hell, he hasn’t even shown any true signs of aggression yet. The other High Ends are always expressing some desire to attack or break something. You thought it came naturally with all of the engineering. For something that was apparently supposed to be their finest specimen yet, Hawks’s behavior wasn’t fitting for his job at all. You just played tic tac fucking toe with him like two kids on a sidewalk.

That’s probably why you found yourself trying to reassure him. “We can play some more tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

An odd clicking noise was made—he sure had a variety of sounds reminiscent of birds—and he returned to his favorite corner, hooking his talons into an empty spot on the wall to begin yet another drawing.

The slightest hint of warmth could be felt in your chest as you left him to his creative tasks. This place sucks and has deprived you of everything good in life for…you’ve lost track of how long. You’ll take whatever you can get to make things more bearable around here.

And if that ‘whatever’ turns out to be a former top hero who was killed and resurrected into a horrid experiment, then so be it.

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #2: Reptile

Notes: The Reptile quirk will make for a great upgrade to Raptor’s physical capabilities. He may possess wings, but the ability to climb almost any surface will be helpful in enclosed areas and improve his overall performances in stealth. A flexible spine allows him to comfortably be both bipedal and quadrupedal, the digitigrade legs granting him greater speed and jumps.

Also, someone needs to send in a request for a new pair of shorts for the damned thing.

There were many more instructions to follow this time. The Coats were bombarding him with one command after another.

“Climb up here.”

“Slash this with your talons.”

“Crush this with your hands. Try again with your feet.”

His head throbbed painfully as the voices took hold of his movements. They pushed his endurance to the limit when they made him run on a machine, first on his legs, then again on all fours. He was only running in place, but it was much more satisfying than pacing back and forth in that boring room.

It turns out that he can scale walls and ceilings with little effort thanks to the pads on his hands and feet. Maybe he can try drawing on the ceiling when he returns to his room. The only downside was that you wouldn’t be able to sit up there with him.

The Coats observed behind the (assumed) safety of a wall of thick glass. Each one possessed a small microphone so that their voice can still be heard clearly through the speaker on his side of the room.

They always watched him with cold and calculating eyes, and only spoke to him when telling him to do something. You feared him; his feathers easily sensed your tension, unsteady breaths, and quickening heartbeats, yet you still took the time to be friendly. And what you do with those hands…he wishes you’d make him feel that good all day. Yes, his room was small and boring, but it did have you.

“Raptor, to the opposite end of the room,” a Coat ordered. The sensation of being pulled by his entire head forced him to take his place at the wall, staring straight ahead at the door.

His wings twitched from a powerful approaching presence, feathers instinctively sharpening at the possible incoming threat. The door was opened by a small Coat to make way for a beast, a beast with a large powerful form and exposed brain just like him.

Vacant eyes stared straight ahead, looking right through him like it was dead on its feet.

“This is one of Cloner’s spawn, yes?” A female Coat spoke with her mouth close to the mic. He supposes that they don’t care if he hears them.

“Yes. His offspring always turn out even more unstable than him. This one can’t even produce a single proper clone, and no additional quirks were inherited. It’s useless.”

“Well, at least it’ll help us in its final moments.” The man leaned into his mic. “Raptor, kill the nomu. Do not use your wings.”

The woman followed up with her own order. “Nomu, kill Raptor.”

Blood was suddenly rushing through his body twice as fast, the reds of his eyes appearing and locking onto the target that was already charging at him with a horrifying wail.

Kill it.

He ducked under the bigger creature’s closing arms that would have likely trapped him into a crushing hug, causing his opponent to lose balance and fall forward. His hand shot up and dug his talons into thick flesh, slicing it from its chest all the way down to its stomach as he ran beneath. Rising from under the nomu’s legs, he turned to see his gruesome work.

Instead, he sees the blur of a fist right before it smashes into his face and sends him flying. His back colliding hard with the wall accompanied the shattering of his jaw. There was no time to wait for his vision to clear up, scrambling out of the path of the charging silhouette before it slams into the now-empty spot, the impact shaking the entire room.

The pain only intensified when his face and spine began to shift, mending itself back together while he tried his hardest to keep his eye on the much more violent beast. A ghoulish moan was heard as it straightened itself, and Raptor could see the large gash that should have easily disemboweled it already closing up.

Ah, so they can both heal.

It was already charging straight at him again. The thing was fast and powerful, but it was acting like it had a one-track mind, sticking to a simple strategy of running towards him and dealing whatever damage it could.

His wings twitched, but there was a barrier in his mind preventing them from moving. Damned Coats.

The fight became a game of evasion, darting and dashing around the bigger and stronger nomu’s swings and countering with deep slashes. Wearing it down was impossible with such rapid healing, every cut he brought upon its skin was quickly sewn shut.

His only chance was to attack its brain, but the nomu had enough sense to protect its one true vulnerable spot, nearly crushing Raptor’s arm into paste after an attempt to sink his talons into the soft matter.

So he kept dodging, and dodging, until something inside the creature just...snapped. Perhaps it was out of frustration in failing to land any hits, but its haunting moans and wails soon became full on screams. Tightly clenched fists pounded into the floor, the stone floor crumbling under the sudden tantrum. Raptor stood and watched, wings tensing from the burst of tortured emotions.

“Hm, you weren’t exaggerating about the meltdowns,” he heard one of the Coats say, her voice as dull as ever.

“What an embarrassment. Damn thing can’t even carry out a simple fight.”

Raptor looked behind the glass of spectators and saw faces of disappointment.

“A complete waste.”

“Cloner’s children are all wasted potential.”

“What a sad display.”

“Pathetic.”

He looked back at the creature that was now writhing and flailing, its skin oozing a blob that throbbed and squirmed, like it was trying its hardest to take a shape. 

But the bubbly pulses stop and the dripping mass melts into a lifeless puddle. The nomu continues to scream after its failed attempt at using its quirk. Raptor’s gut twists with pity.

A sad display, indeed.

“Raptor! Did you forget your orders? Kill him!” 

The sharp command smothers all feelings of sympathy, and before Raptor knew it, he was running toward the tormented creature, each feather on his tail sharpening with every step. Ducking under a blind swipe, the black spear thrusted forward and pierced its brain with a sickening shlunk.

The thrashing was reduced to short spasms as the nomu choked out its final groans, its terrified eyes glazing over when the last traces of life faded. 

The tail was yanked out and shook off the blood and spongy brain matter to splatter on the ground. Raptor gave a soft whine of distress.

“Well, that was all rather underwhelming.”

“Yep, that didn’t exactly challenge Raptor at all.”

“I’m concerned about his lack of aggression. Did you all see him hesitate?”

“Most likely just confusion and caution after witnessing such a sudden breakdown.”

So many voices, so many comments; Raptor paid no attention to them. His mind was on the corpse that continued to bleed heavily from the large gash in its head. Raptor was the stronger nomu. He won.

Was he supposed to feel proud? Victorious?

“He’s a very smart one. Did you see the markings in his room? He and his harvester have been...bonding.” That voice...Raptor recognized it as the Coat that showed up every morning to retrieve him from his room to enter these test rooms. “I can’t decide if I like the idea of a friendly nomu.”

The woman dismissed his worries. “As long as he knows to kill when he’s told, his behavior shouldn’t matter. But it might benefit us to test his relationship with his owner after we’ve finished observing his quirks.”

His throat vibrates as a low growl passes through.

Raptor doesn’t like it here.

x---x---x---x---x

Maybe it’s just because Friday (you’re pretty sure it’s Friday on your self-made calendar) tends to be your busiest day of the week, or that your wrist is beginning to wear down from the many giant dicks you’ve been stroking. Or maybe it’s just one of those days when you remember just how shitty this life was. Whatever it was, you weren’t in one of your best moods today. 

That’s why you felt just the smallest hint of excitement when you reached Hawks’s door. Yes, it’s weird, but he was the closest thing you had to a companion around here, alright? 

The last thing you expected was to open the door to an empty room, at least it appeared that way until you saw the black creature resting on the ceiling.

“Aah!” You yelp and drop the jar out of fright, causing Hawks to jump from the sudden noise. You curse and quickly pick up the container and scan it for any cracks while he gracefully twists his body to drop on the floor with a thud. He was as graceful as a cat...a cat that can comfortably sit upside down.

Relieved to see the jar in one piece, you turned your attention back to the waiting High End. “I didn’t know you could climb like that.”

His wings fluttered at the comment and he raised his palms right in front of your face. Ah yes, a hand. Very lovely. But looking more closely, you could see a difference in texture on the rounded pads of his fingertips. “Ooh, little sticky hairs, huh?”

He gave a click of what you assumed to be approval, tail swinging behind him.

“So I guess you’re not just born knowing everything your body can do. Sounds troublesome.” There’s something you wanted to do, something you wouldn’t ever consider doing with the other nomu even in your dreams. “May I, uh, touch them?” You held up your own hands innocently.

Hawks cocked his head, a gesture that you’re always going to find kinda cute, before grunting and bringing his larger hands to yours. All ten of your fingers made contact, and the slightest shiver shot down your spine. 

It’s the first time you’ve ever touched one of these monsters outside of jerking them to collect semen. Your curiosity was always there, but the disgust and fear you often felt when in their presence fueled the overpowering desire to hurry up, get the damn job done, and get away from them as quickly as possible.

You never imagined that you’d be standing face to face with a High End, feeling the surprisingly soft pads on his scaly hands, his breaths deep and hot against your face as those red irises watched your expressions. He was still very intimidating with his tall form, glowing glare, and the large imposing pair of wings. But those eyes—they contained too much intelligence and emotion in them.

Too human. It was as uncanny as it was fascinating. 

Only when his eyes close and he begins to croon softly do you realize that one of your hands have moved up to touch his face. The black skin feels extra thick when you gently press his cheek, strong and leathery. He leans in and brings his head closer to give you better access, and you can’t help but reward the reaction with scratches against his jaw and chin.

“You know, you’ve been doing a shitty job of acting like the ultimate killer,” you said when he purrs happily. 

The purr morphs into a disgruntled whine. “Don’t...like.”

Your hand pauses, hoping for him to elaborate as well as he could. “Don’t like…?” You encouraged him.

He was still struggling to work his vocal chords, but at least he seemed to be showing less pain. “Don’t like...k-killiiing.”

What?

“Raptor, that’s...you know...the very thing you were made for, and you don’t like doing it?” Not that you’re complaining about his gentle nature, but hearing a damn nomu say that he dislikes killing might be the most ludicrous thing you’ve heard here, even more so than the first time you were told to make an abomination cum.

His entire body stiffens, and you couldn’t help but tense up as well. “Maaade-” He makes a harsh hacking sound. “-to kill?”

Shit. You panic and attempt to backpedal. “Not to actually kill. You’re supposed to be, you know, the strongest creature that’s capable of killing whenever he wants...if you, uh, wanted to.” Yeah, that sounds good enough.

It appears to do the trick, his body relaxing again. “Don’t like,” he repeated more smoothly this time.

“I know, I know. Killing sucks. Just don’t tell the assholes in labcoats that, alright? Now calm down.” You return to your ministrations, this time using both hands to rub and scratch his face. His eyes drift shut again as your hands trail down to his slightly elongated neck, brushing past his steady pulse.

Reaching his collar and then his chest, you discover that he’s solid muscle everywhere. He may not be on the verge of bursting out of his own skin like the others, but he could no doubt snap you like a twig just as easily. You feel his chest heave from a deep breath, the strength emanating from his body making you shiver. You shush him when he jolts as your hands reach his pronounced abs, pushing against the hard muscle until you finally arrive at his groin.

You snorted at the new pair of shorts. “Another pair, huh? At least these look a little less ragged.”

You pulled his large member out for the third time. Why did you have to do this daily? What could they possibly be doing with so many jars of jizz? Making cakes?

Sighing, you brushed off the soreness of your arm and wrist and began to pump his ridged length. “Just do me a favor and try to cum quickly, alright?” 

He made a rather sad groan at that, curling into himself so that his face was close to yours. His sharp breaths were loud in your ears.

You couldn’t help but smile even through the strain of your muscles. “What, you wanna make this last? Do you know how many dicks I’ve had to tend to today? Cut me some slack, we’re gonna be doing this everyday, anyway.”

Hawks purrs before that monstrous voice shakes your body, his hot breath warming the side of your face and neck. “Feel gooood.”

The primal lust dripping from him triggers a pulse of warmth inside you. You...can’t remember the last time you’ve felt that, and it’s just a tad strange that a nomu caused it. Were you really that starved for attention? “I-” You cleared your throat after an awkward voice crack. “I know, handjobs tend to feel good. But please be a good boy and help me out here.”

He gives a puff that blows your hair back, but he complies. The big sweaty face that buries itself in your neck is so distracting that you almost forget to get your jar ready and fill it with the incoming spurts of semen. There, the final sample of the day has been collected. Now, if you could just push the panting fiend off of you before he starts drooling on your shoulder.

Something warm and slimy touches your neck. It has you pulling back so quickly that you almost fall and spill the vile essence all over you before the jar could be properly sealed.

Hawks shrinks back and quickly withdraws the indigo tongue into his mouth, looking down in what appears to be shame. You touch the licked spot, the thick saliva coating your fingers. 

“Sss-sorrry.” Regret can be heard clearly in his droning voice.

“No, it’s...it’s okay,” you stammer. The sensation lingers, and then ignites a spark somewhere inside you.

A sick, disgusting, and absolutely fucked up spark. The next thing you say should horrify you, but instead you feel nothing but a twisted form of anticipation. “You can...um...do that again, if you want.”

His tail slapped the floor in excitement before he slowly closed the distance again, cautiously looking into your eyes before his tongue slithers out and caresses the same wet space.

The smooth muscle is hot against you, extending to inhuman lengths to explore your neck. The slick sounds as it slid across your skin should have grossed you out—all of this should be grossing you out, so you don’t understand why you tilt your head back to give him more room. He licks up and down your throat slowly to savor your taste, breathing heavily and releasing a stale stench from his open maw. You imagined the breath of a previously dead man to smell a hundred times worse, frankly. 

With your neck completely drenched in his cooling slobber, he ventures upward, purring louder than ever as he tastes the flesh of your jaw. The tapered end of his tongue begins to curiously flick at your earlobe before circling around the shell of your ear. He seems to take a liking to the flabby cartilage and laps at it playfully while giving the occasional nip and suck and god, it’s all heard so fucking clearly, every schlick and smack traveling right through your canal and setting off questionable reactions all over you. Your hands are clenched and held against your chest, but you don’t tell him to stop.

‘What the hell is wrong with me?’

The licking moves to your cheek, lapping at it shortly before moving to your pursed lips.

‘This is fucked up beyond words.’

You flinch when the clammy tongue brushes over your lips, at first smoothing over them lightly, possibly testing to see how you’d react. His face is so close, your noses almost touching. To allow a nomu this close to you, touching you like this…

When you make no move of resistance, he gets braver and laps at your mouth with controlled eagerness. Your eyes close to hide from the otherworldly gaze, but your lips feel even more sensitive to the weight that continues flicking and pressing at them, covering them in hot saliva. Several times does it briefly part your lips and graze your teeth, making you swallow at the thought of…

‘Don’t do that.’

Hawks pauses when you open up for him, but gives a gleeful chirp and snakes his way into your inviting mouth.

‘I’m really letting him do this.’

Clawed hands grab your arms a little too tightly and hold you in place. It hurts, yet all you can focus on is the flexible muscle exploring your mouth. It rubbed against the roof, pushed at the inside of your cheeks, and eventually stroked and curled around your own tongue.

‘You’re sick.’

But you’ve been sick ever since you got here, haven’t you?

When his grip loosens, you take the opportunity to place your hands around his head, digging your fingers into his...hair? Plumage? Was his hair always this feather-like?

A high-pitched sound of surprise leaves him when you try to pull him in closer. He quickly complies, closing the distance until his lips and mouth are covering yours.

It completely smothers your senses. You see his black wings expand to slowly encase both of you. You hear the wet friction of his tongue and the hungry growls that roll from his throat. You smell sweat and blood, briefly wondering just what exactly was he made to do during those ‘tests’. You taste the thick and flavorless saliva that makes you gag at first, but becomes easier to swallow as you take in more. And most of all, you feel him slowly moving in and out of your wide open mouth, the thrusting motion forcing your thighs to rub together in response to the growing heat threatening to consume you.

You snap out of it before that can happen.

Hawks pulls away when he hears your choked sounds of protest, your hands suddenly on his chest and pushing. Fresh oxygen rushes back into your lungs when his tongue leaves your mouth and retreats back into his. The warmth between your legs doesn’t fade away. Everything that just happened, everything you just allowed this monster to do fully sinks in.

And you fucking enjoyed it.

You back away from him as quickly as you can, ignoring his confused groans. A wave of nausea sweeps over you like a powerful gust that churns your stomach.

“Rest. I need to go.” It was all you said before you picked up the forgotten jar and fled the room, refusing to falter from the sorrowful whines behind you.

The urge to spew the little food you’ve been fed throughout the day all over the hallway floor is strong, but you manage to hold out until you reach the toilet in your room, quickly kneeling and hurling. It wasn’t much, but it still left you teary-eyed and with a burning throat.

What did you do? Just what the hell did you do that warranted getting kidnapped, having your nice comfortable life stolen from you, and the only way to cope was by making out with a horrid creature? You jolt from a painful mix of a sob and a hiccup. It’s been weeks since your last breakdown, but this new discovery was another hard blow to your sanity and pride. You let the tears flow as you flushed away your mess, moving over to your bed and collapsing onto the thin mattress. Fuck this facility. Fuck the scum that created all of this.

And fuck the throbbing wetness between your legs that still won’t go away.

Your sobs transform into humorless laughs. You’re going to have to get rid of the throbbing yourself, aren’t you? They won’t arrive to collect all of your samples for about another thirty minutes, so that should be enough time...

You pulled down the thin blue pants and rubbed your fingers over the slick that had gathered from what had transpired in Hawks’s room. It’s true, you’ve been doing nothing but sick shit since you’ve been tossed into this new life. Why do you even still hold on to feelings like shame and disgust? What good will they do you here?

So you try to drown out the voice of your conscience as you laid back, succumbing to the wonderfully twisted thoughts of a nomu’s tongue.

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Examination

Quirk #3: Regeneration

Quirk#4: Heat Resistance

Notes: Our most advanced specimens deserve the best healing quirks we have to offer. Raptor is no exception. It will also make up for his lack of weight and hard muscle, not that he should ever be mistaken as frail. Most importantly, this should accelerate the regrowth of his feathers and supply him with an endless arsenal. We do not want to risk his regeneration being hindered by burns. After all, it was fire that led to the host’s death. This is why we have added a quirk that should make it almost completely fireproof.

The only people that Raptor disliked more than the Coats, were the Masks. The Coats saw him as nothing more than an attack dog that is expected to obey every command. But the humans in masks...to them, he was just a fleshy object to be dissected and analyzed.

They were poking and cutting to their heart’s content. His mind screamed to get away from the assortment of blades and needles that hovered over him, sinking into his skin in various places while he could only writhe against the cuffs of the metal table he was strapped to. He doesn’t believe it’s their intention to test every ounce of his willpower, but that sure as hell is what they’re doing right now as he tries, really tries not to use his feathers out of desperation.

“Excellent. The cuts begin healing the moment they’re made,” one of them observes. “Try deeper incisions. Maybe I should try removing one of its eyes.”

Raptor’s heartbeat was booming in his ears after hearing those words.

A younger Mask has been flinching from every one of the nomu’s movements. “Shouldn’t we sedate it or something? What if it lashes out?”

“Stop panicking. A nomu won’t hurt anyone without orders, though his responses to pain are stronger than I expected. We may have to fix that.”

Raptor wouldn’t mind that at all. He hisses and howls as he’s taken apart and mended back together in a torturous loop. His brain is throbbing so strongly one would worry that it might burst. He fights to think through all of the agony. 

He thinks of your touch. He thinks of your taste. Were you repulsed by what he did that morning? 

Sharp pain shot through his wings when his feathers were being forcefully yanked out, his teeth on the verge of shattering from his tightly clenched jaws.

“Perfect! Look at that, they’re already growing back in.” 

They were. He could feel the fresh plumes pushing through his skin. The regeneration did well in preventing any real damage, but it didn’t make the violent tearing of his feathers any easier to bear.

The cruel assault on his wings and tail eventually ended, black fluff littering the room’s floor. He remembers when you mentioned other nomu being capable of shutting down whenever they wanted. What he wouldn’t give to just turn off like a light switch right now.

“Alright, it’s time to move on to his heat resistance. Get the torch.”

The what? Raptor searched the fragments of his knowledge; most words were familiar to him, they just took a while to be remembered from...something. He doesn’t understand how he already knows so much, even though his subconsciousness needs time to dust everything off.

One of the Masks was holding a small object that ended in a tube. With a push of a button, a small blue flame appeared.

The glowing yellow eyes that were normally slits were suddenly wider than he thought possible, every part of him hyper focused on the small fire that was getting too close to his sore wings. His mind recovered a new piece of information:

Blue flames are to be feared.

He was thrashing the second the searing pain was felt, fighting to escape, to get away from the blue death that threatened to incinerate his wings again. He has felt this before. He doesn’t want to burn again.

Panic consumed him, unaware of how much his feathers have sharpened as he beats his wings and tail against the table. He can barely hear the Masks’ frantic voices over the ear-splitting screech, a screech that he realizes is coming from his own strained throat.

“–ptor, I SAID STOP!”

“–y arm! Fuck, my arm is bleeding bad–”

“–old you he’d attack! Why is he reacting so–”

“–atives! Into his neck! Hurry!”

Needles are being jammed into his neck, the chemicals working quickly in sapping away his strength, limbs becoming too heavy to move, and his thoughts were too cloudy to even continue panicking. The scorching heat was still present in his wing, but he can still feel the presence of all of his feathers. There was no foul smell of burnt plumage.

“Aaaugh, my arm...” In the corners of his vision, Raptor saw one of the Masks hunched over and clutching a blood-soaked arm. He didn’t mean to hurt any of them.

“Shut up and go patch yourself up.” An older man motioned the rest to come closer to the calmed nomu, which they cautiously obeyed. “Do you all see it? His feathers aren’t damaged at all. Perfect.”

“But why didn’t he stop resisting after you ordered him several times? And why was his reaction to pain so strong?”

The elder grimaced behind his mask and shook his head. “Its pain tolerance is laughable. There’s no use in a nomu having such sensitivity. We’ll need to perform an operation that will dull his nerves.” 

They scrambled around the table, gathering new tools and focusing the creaky hanging light on Raptor’s face. He was too doped up to even react to the harsh brightness.

“And if he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”

The nomu tried to make a sound of protest, but in his dazed state he could give no more than a pathetic whimper. He was rather thankful of the drugs for making him unable to notice just how many needles were sinking into his brain, or the blades that opened up the rest of his head, keeping the tools in place to prevent his skull from instantly healing. It still hurt, a lot. But as they tweaked his pulsing organ, injecting unknown fluids inside, the pain began to dim. Raptor would have celebrated and attempted to wag his tail in relief.

But it wasn’t the only thing that was fading. The coldness of the metal at his back was becoming distant, the chill in the air of the room was suddenly so faint that it no longer made him shiver. 

He wanted it all to hurt less, but he still wanted to feel. 

He has no idea how much time had passed once they finally finished and allowed his bone and flesh to close up. The old Mask stared down at him, gloves drenched in thick crimson.

“That should do it. Going by your weaker reactions, the operation was a success and you now feel less sensation. Good.”

‘No. Not good.’ It’s what he was tempted to say, but Raptor didn’t want to utter a single word to anyone besides you, and the cruel man’s recent threat of robbing him of his free will ensured that he keeps his mouth shut.

Raptor hates it here.

x---x---x---x---x

There were fresh claw marks covering the walls of Hawks’s room, and this time they were angry. The drawings and games you made together were literally slashed out, with spots of blood spread out all over the floor.

He was curled up in a corner, wings concealing most of his shaking form.

“Raptor.” Firmly addressing him is usually all it takes to gain his full attention, just like any other nomu, High End or not.

Hawks doesn’t respond at all.

That’s new...and very unnerving.

You called him again. The mass of feathers didn’t budge. You swallowed a lump in your throat. He had clearly just thrown a violent tantrum, and you don’t know if he has fully calmed down yet. Approaching him is too risky, but the damn nomu won’t even acknowledge you. So you’ll have to get through him in a more natural way. 

“Raptor, is everything alright? Do you, um, need some space? I can come back a little later...maybe another thirty minutes or so.” You offered, your body slightly twisting toward the door, ready to bolt if he decided to attack. You ignored the cold hard fact that the door and your legs would do little in protecting you from him.

His tail slowly uncurls like a timid snake, wings following suit and revealing his shrunken form. He was hugging himself tightly, talons peeling the skin off of his biceps. His head hung low, but you can see the spot of red in each eye looking right at you. He looked like an angry and frightened child, and his pitiful plea didn’t help matters.

“Don’t...go.”

His vulnerable state quelled your fears, but you still took caution. “Can I come closer?”

He looks down at the floor for a moment, seemingly pondering the question, before straightening his posture and nodding. 

You follow the routine you’ve been getting used to with him, setting aside the jar and taking some time to talk. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

It was supposed to compel him to instantly explain the issue, or at least attempt to with his awkward speech. You instead see him flinch and growl lowly, as if he didn’t appreciate you making demands. Just what is going on with him?

Your anxiety was probably visible since he quickly switched back to a less aggressive stance. You wince when he drags a claw through his flesh, blood leaking out for only a second before the wound instantly repairs itself. “Can’t feel.” He weeps with cracks in his unnatural voice. At least he’s dragging out his words less and sounds less like a moaning zombie.

“You can’t feel?” You repeated, edging closer and placing a hand over the healed spot. Another growl, louder this time, scares you into pulling away. But his bigger hand seizes yours and presses it hard onto the black skin. You feel the tremors that begin to wrack his body and try to stay calm in the wake of his growing distress. 

His voice becomes only more broken. “Can’t feel it! Can’t feel you!”

You find yourself shushing him, holding your free hand up like you’re trying to calm a panicking animal. You cup the side of his face, but that seems to upset him even more. “You can’t feel my hand?”

He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, squeezing your hand tightly enough to cut off circulation. How freely he can emote still freaks you out a bit, face looking on the verge of shedding tears. Everything about him continues to be so surreal.

“Raptor, you’re a shitty nomu,” you told him with a small smile. “Not that I mind.”

And there goes that cute head tilt. The thought of him being released in a city to wreak havoc, just like the one that attacked Endeavor and...him, feels less possible after every meeting.

He was still powerful and potentially dangerous, if the state of the walls were anything to go by. You really shouldn’t be pushing your luck or his temper. On the other hand, you did decide yesterday that from now on, you are going to embrace the depraved dumbass within you. Hawks stiffens and starts to slowly pull back, but your hand makes its way to the back of his head. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” you soothed him. “I just want to see if you can feel any of this.”

With no more hesitation, you pressed your lips to his, feeling his shock through a surprised grunt. For a minute, you simply cover his rough lips with kisses while he stays completely still, eyes looking on the verge of bulging right out of their sockets. It looked downright silly. Why was he so shocked by a simple kiss anyway, after the way you let him ravage your mouth yesterday? 

Your lips pause when you remember the distraught sounds he made that morning as he watched you rush out of the room. That’s right.

“Hey,” you murmur against him. “Sorry for taking off like that last time. Just...don’t worry about it, okay.” He released a hot breath onto your face. Your trapped hand is finally freed from his iron grip, numb and stiff, but you keep your attention on the motionless nomu. “We’re not exactly supposed to be doing this, but I want you t-mmf!”

He suddenly went forward and attacked your lips, aggressively mimicking your movements with enough force to bruise. You try to keep up and calm his pace, sighing into his mouth once his lips finally begin to slow down. He’s clumsy like you expected, but his intelligence shows when he tries to follow your lead and quickly learns the intimate dance of your mouths. The occasional swipe of that blasted tongue across your lip makes you gasp, and then you feel big strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, the beats of his excited wings, the throaty growls that rattle your entire being…

You can feel yourself heating up again already.

“Mmm, Raptor...wait,” you manage to say between kisses, your hands pushing against his chest. He gives a grating sound of annoyance, but pulls away like you wished. You were suddenly hyper aware of his size and strength – this monster that was holding you closely and taking care not to harm you. If any other nomu had you like this, they undoubtedly wouldn’t have stopped.

“So, did you feel any of that?” Your hand travels down to his groin and rubs at the bulge that still had a lot of growing to do. “Do you feel that?”

To your dismay, he shakes his head. “No,” he groans as his wings droop closer to the floor. 

It has you stumped. How are you supposed to please him when his whole body is numb?

“But…” He licks his lips slowly. “Can still taste. Tastes so good.”

When you let him lap at your lips again, he twitches beneath the ragged cloth.

You put two and two together, and the realization makes you gulp. And ache.

Remember, shame is useless here.

He allows you to back away and create some distance. The sight before you is frightening on its own: The sharp stare of the raven-winged fiend while surrounded by the deep marks of its outburst would do well in intimidating any sane individual. Remembering what exactly he is makes you pause only for a second, your hands grabbing the bottom of your thin blue shirt and lifting it before your pesky conscience can even get a word in.

Hawks’s wings flare out slightly when your breasts are revealed to him, talons clicking against the floor as he shuffles about, at a loss of how to react. Relieved that you haven’t been pounced on immediately, you lean down to remove your pants next, ignoring the trembling in your hands as you pull the garment down and step out of them. They never supplied you with underwear, so with your two articles of clothing removed, you were completely nude in front of the dangerous nomu.

At first you both just stared at each other, until he finally came forward to scan your body more closely, mindful of how nervous you were. The tension made you almost choke and cough on your words.

“I-if you want to…taste more of me, go ahead.” You didn’t mean to squeak out those last two words. You blame it on the chilly air.

The hands that take hold of your hips feel extra hot, along with the breath that grazes your chest. The blue tongue slides past his lips and extends to press against the spot right over your pounding heart, then moving smoothly up the column of your neck and your cheek in one long swipe, the wet trail making you shudder. The mouth ventures close to your ear to utter the word that you remember repeating to him on the first day you got him off.

“Calm.”

It’s followed by a rolling purr that eases you into doing just that. The humming continues while he eyes your breasts, nipples already pert from being exposed to the air. Even in your more relaxed state, the sudden lick across your tit makes your breath hitch. He seems to enjoy your response and repeats the action, giving it several more laps before wrapping around the entirety of the soft globe like a tentacle, squeezing gently.

“Ah, Raptor,” you moan when the tip of the tongue flicks at your nipple, sending the tiniest of jolts through you. “Damn, where did you learn to do that?” 

He answers with nothing more than a groan as he continues to show off his tongue’s flexibility. It coils and swirls around the skin until every inch of it is covered in his saliva, making you even more sensitive to the cold air. Satisfied with his work, he moves on to repeat the motions with your other breast.

The pleasure was soothing, like a massage…if the masseuse had sticky boneless limbs. You close your eyes and wrap your arms around him, letting yourself enjoy the vile act of a monster sampling your taste. 

His mouth suddenly engulfs you, the damp heat adding to the ongoing feeling of his tongue dancing around your tit. The purrs abruptly become a powerful vibration that electrifies your skin and brings forth your moisture to drip and run down your thighs.

But Hawks suddenly pulls away and stares at you intensely, the glower snapping you out of your daze.

“What is it?” You were getting nervous again. Did one of your reactions irritate him?

He breathes in, again and again, sniffing at the air for something. The swaying tail hints that whatever he smells is exciting him. His head lowers in pursuit of the scent and stops at your womanly mound to take a long whiff at the spicy aroma emanating from your cunt.

With his breath now blowing right against your sex and increasing your arousal, your juices trickled freely onto the floor and for him to see. The clawed hands on your hips held you steady, preventing you from collapsing from the nerve-racking anticipation that had you shaking all over. At no point in your life have you ever felt this exposed, being ogled by a pair of eyes in which the irises were bigger than you’ve ever seen them, mesmerized by the source of the delicious smell.

The tongue slips between your thighs before you could even prepare yourself, stretching across the entirety of your lips, over your entrance, nearly reaching your ass before it pulls back toward his mouth, the rubbing of the silky muscle creating buzzes of pleasure. Looking down gives you the unpleasant view of his brain, but you also get to see him swallow and savor your taste, humming deeply in approval before salivating with the need to drink up more.

“Good.”

He doesn’t wait for your response – his face is already being shoved into you, and you’re suddenly bombarded with delightful hot sensations all over your pussy. The ravenous organ travels up and down your folds, collecting every drop of your sweet nectar while you could do nothing but spread your legs to give him more leeway – God you’re such a whore – and cover your mouth in the hope that no passerbys hear your moans in the room. 

When your legs officially become jelly and can no longer support you, Hawks tires of holding you up and allows you to fall back a little too hard onto the floor, the impact making you wince. Any other time, he probably would have at least made a sound of apology, but your sopping wet pussy has stolen his attention. He wastes no time in lifting your hips up toward his waiting mouth, now utilizing his lips along with his tongue to loudly slurp up your essence.

His vicious hunger has you seeing stars. Wings open up and expand around both of you like black curtains that darken your vision, like a bird of prey mantling over a hard-earned meal. The only thing you can clearly see between your legs are the eerie glows of red and yellow; the glare of a demon that seeks to devour you from the inside. He starts to suck your folds dry, growling as he inspects every inch of the ravaged honeypot until his lips brush against your neglected clit.

A muffled “fuck!” passes between your fingers, both of your hands tightly clamped over your mouth. The reaction surprises him, and to his delight, it triggers more of your nectar to flow. The most efficient gag wouldn’t have been enough to suppress your scream when he sucked hard on your sensitive bud.

You couldn’t help it. Fighting past the paralyzing pleasure, your hands blindly grab at his head and accidentally bury your fingers into a soft squishy brain. The discomfort makes him shake his head and groan in irritation, raising his head and narrowing those menacing eyes at you as a silent warning.

“Hah...shit...I’m sor–AH! Fuck-oh my god....” He’s already attacking your clit again before you can finish your apology. All he cares about at the moment is your taste, and not even you were going to interrupt him. The surrounding wings occasionally twitch and shudder around you, vibrating along with your approaching climax. But the second you feel dangerously close, his lips leave the perky little pebble and move back down to lap at your fresh flow. It tears you away from an orgasmic finale and brings you back to that sensual middle ground. The audible licks were amazing, but you need to reach that edge. Your hand drifted down to your pussy, right over his tongue where you can give your clit the stimulation needed to cum…

“Hwrrrrrrr…”

You felt the terrifying snarl more than you heard it, shaking you to your very core. The other core, not the one on the verge of bursting. You immediately pull away and freeze, shivering and breathing quickly at the sight of his bared fangs. For a brief moment, the tent of feathers showed off a faint sheen, like they all suddenly sharpened. A quivering, fear-fueled gasp left you. 

It felt like the staredown went on forever, but Hawks was eventually convinced that you weren’t going to distract him from his feast again and returned his gaze to the fragrant pussy before him. However, after a few more licks, he grunted in frustration. You weren’t secreting your precious juices fast enough; your body simply couldn’t keep up with his newfound greed.

The insatiable tongue keeps poking and prodding at your opening until it pushes in just enough to slightly stretch your walls. You struggle to stay relaxed and keep your hands to yourself. Hawks was currently as unpredictable as any other nomu, and you didn’t want to piss him off.

When the hot thick muscle is suddenly shoved into you, you don't even have time to cover your mouth and block the next scream that is ripped from your throat. There’s no time to adjust to the completely foreign sensation. It squirms inside of you like a living creature, massaging your pussy in ways you didn’t even know were possible, sometimes hitting that special soft spot.

Your molten center spreads its flames across every nerve. This is far beyond what you fantasized on the night you touched yourself. His tongue was able to fill you completely, all while moving around more freely than a cock or even fingers ever could. Too soon does it leave your pulsing walls and back into his mouth, where he swallows every drop he’s gathered before shooting his tongue back out and penetrating you again before you can even complain.

He was moving with more force, enough to create a visible swell in your stomach that moved along with his tongue. You can’t look away from it, even as he begins to push in and out at a steady rhythm, the pleasure building up to new heights while the bulge in your belly moves up and down. You’re tempted to ask him to move his wings to allow more light for a better view, but interrupting him now is probably a stupid idea.

He pants loudly from his open mouth as he fucks you thoroughly with nothing more than a long powerful tongue, his thrusts moving faster and deeper in search of more of your savory wetness.

Meanwhile, you were dizzy. It was uncomfortable at first. It’s been so long since you’ve been fully stretched, but it all quickly melds into pleasure you have long since forgotten – no – you hadn’t even known. Your interest in sex has greatly diminished during your stay here. Hell, you were certain that your libido was officially dead. But Hawks….

This abomination was going to be the death of you.

Your g-spot is suddenly struck again, and again. Most of your words were incoherent, and the ones that could be made out were nothing more than endless encouragement.  “Gah-hnngh, fuck, Hawks, you want more, don’t you? Ah, I’m about to give you more. Keep going Hawks don’t fucking stop.” 

Talons are biting into your skin from his tightened grip. With a low bellow of excitement, his mouth moves to cover your entire sex, prepared for the incoming downpour, and thrusts his tongue into your most sensitive spot repeatedly without mercy.

The pressure within explodes violently, completely overshadowing that laughable orgasm you gave yourself yesterday. Each contraction adds more white that flashes in your eyes, moving in from the corners of your vision until it becomes as blinding and unbearable as the bliss that washes over you. There are noisy gulps between your legs, the parched monster happily taking every rush of fluid directly into his mouth and down his throat until he finally has his fill.

Even through your spasms your walls try desperately to clamp around his tongue as it leaves, but to no avail. The looming wings finally move away and return to their usual resting spot behind his back while he sets your lower body down and licks his lips for any remaining traces of your slick. The talons never broke your skin, but they did leave some glaring marks on your hips and ass.

You still tingled all over from the waist down while your muscles make the greatest effort to respond to any of your commands. No use. You decide to lay there covered in the monster’s spit. The work of that amazing specimen of a tongue almost made you forget that this was being done to arouse him. You should probably check to see if he was hard. He may not be able to feel your hand anymore, but he still might be excited enough to cum from the act. Stupid science bastards, making your job more complicated.

“Hawks.”

The single word uttered from the nomu clears your mind instantly. Your weakened arms push you upright to properly face him. He was still crouching, scaly toes supporting the weight of his body like a gargoyle without a perch.

“You say Hawks. What...is Hawks?”

What? When did you…?

Oh. Shit. Your mouth was moving on its own while he was eating you out.

Your mind was zipping in several directions at once, hoping that he wouldn’t find anything odd about your eyes darting about, looking everywhere except at him. You settled on a simple and dismissive answer. “Oh...don’t worry about it. I was just babbling while you had me on cloud nine,” you said with a crooked smile.

Black lips twisted into a frown, accompanied by a quick beat of his wings and then...eww. His brain is pulsing way too much, so much that he shakes his head in agitation, which only adds to the disturbing visual as the organ jiggles slightly in his head. “Hawks...don’t know...I know…” His words jumbled over his inner turmoil. The long tail lifted and began to swing quickly.

You sat there, nude and bewildered. Every High-End still carried traces of who they once were, expressing some of the same behaviors and habits they presumably had before death.

This is the first time you’ve seen one with any sort of recollection of their past life, even if it’s something as minor as feeling a connection to their name. You have a feeling that’s not supposed to happen.

You shouldn’t tell him anything; nothing good will come out of it. He needs to shut up and start being a bloodthirsty killer before the doctors decide that he’s more trouble than he’s worth.

“Raptor,” your shaky legs move slowly, shifting until you’re resting on your knees, face to face with the nomu that still looks interested in your naked body even as his head throbs. “It’s not important. Stop thinking about it.”

The look he gives you is one of hurt and dammit, this is exactly his problem. “But...Hawks. Want to know what-”

“I said stop thinking!”  Your volume shocks both of you, but Hawks actually recoils from the unexpected shout. You don’t care, all it does is confuse you more, anger you more. “Why the hell aren’t you listening to me anymore? That’s what you’re supposed to do! Do whatever we tell you! What, did you break?” A full-body chill reminds you of the state you’re in. You were seriously having an outburst while still completely naked with Hawks’s saliva glistening over your thighs. You groan and turn away from the troubled hybrid to grab your clothes and dress yourself, not giving a damn if you pissed him off and he decides to kill you right there. He’d be doing both of you a favor, really.

But it shouldn’t be a surprise when you see that he hasn’t budged from his spot, making no move to retaliate. “I like you, Raptor,” you admitted. “Somehow, you managed to be the only welcomed company in this fucked up hospital slash prison, but you shouldn’t be. What we just did...that shouldn’t have happened. Fuck, I – I should’ve been terrified, and I kinda was, but, I shouldn’t have felt that good!” Your doubts, your conscience, they both return with a vengeance. But this time it’s not you they’re worried about. 

“If this is how you act around everyone else, you’re not going to last here.” You hold his face in your hands, a tender gesture that shouldn’t be possible with the likes of him. “These assholes are gonna get rid of you if you don’t do what they want, and they’re going to ask for horrible things. I know you don’t like killing, but if you keep up all of...this, you’re going to lose more than your sense of touch.”

He doesn’t make a sound, only staring at you before gritting his teeth and nodding in your gentle grasp. His compliance both relieves and hurts you.

“I’m sorry, but no more questions. Please? The less you know, the better.”

“No more…questions.” Dammit, you hate how clear the sorrow is in his eerie voice, like the mournful moans of a lost soul. “No more.”

You give him a smile of thanks, it’s the least you could give him. You try to bring the atmosphere back to its usual awkward yet friendly vibe. “Now, let me see if your, um, tasting did you any good.” You move to pull down his shorts. That is, until you notice the large damp spots and stains on the cheap material. Oh, he did not.

“Welp, it obviously worked. Now how am I gonna scrape this shit off?”

x---x---x---x---x

Hawks.

Flames.

Decay.

Death. Everywhere.

But, somehow, he knew it wasn’t his doing. 

Maybe he did kill a few...he wasn’t sure. It’s all so blurry and nauseating. 

Was he killing people? Was he…trying to save them? A monster like him, saving people?

“No more questions.”

Your voice echoes, bouncing across the shattered fragments of his mind. Raptor tries to obey. He doesn’t know what this Hawks is, or why it keeps plaguing him.

Whatever Hawks was, it’s gone. Raptor wants it to leave him alone.

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

Field Test

Quirk #5: Camouflage

Notes: As you know by now, Raptor differs from other nomu in that he is designed for agility and stealth. An invisibility quirk will not only make Raptor into the perfect phantom, it can also assist in infiltration and spying. While the quirk may be called ‘camouflage’ mainly due to how it changes skin pigmentation, it does much more than match the colors of the environment. It hides the user’s entire form as perfectly as any true invisibility quirk. Raptor should be more than capable of destroying targets without ever being noticed.

You were right. It was strange how he doesn’t discover these ‘quirks’ on his own. It was an understatement to say that he was a little lost when a Coat ordered him to activate his Camouflage. Raptor was prepared to feel those words bind his limbs and move him against his will. Whenever his brain was under the Coats’ control, he was capable of doing whatever they asked, even when he himself didn’t understand what they were asking for.

So it was worrying when he felt nothing. He heard the order loud and clear, yet it didn’t wrap around his brain like it always does. 

So it wasn’t just you. His mind no longer submitted to anyone’s commands. He would have chirped in celebration if he didn’t have an audience that was still waiting for him to follow through, giving looks and comments of impatience while he stood there. 

He can’t let them notice that he was unaffected. The words of the Mask that stole his touch repeated in his head along with the memories of cutting and burning, every nerve seething from raw pain until all feeling began to fade.

“If he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”

Alter...change...he doesn’t want them to change him. So Raptor tried to pretend, another thing that felt natural to him. 

The process of finding his new quirk was difficult to describe; it was more like willing himself to blend in until the rest of his body got the message. All of his muscles tightened, and he almost panicked when black skin began to disappear before his eyes. His wings, his tail, every part of him looked as if it was dissolving, but he can still move and feel the weight of each limb. Once his body relaxed, he was fully invisible. The Coats kept him pinned with their stares, however.

“Completely hidden. Very good,” one of them said, writing something down. They’re always watching, always taking notes on him, always judging. This all felt familiar as well. “Now, walk from that corner to there, and keep a hold on your quirk.”

There was no pull, no sudden fuzziness or loss of control. Nothing. It’s a strange feeling, following orders because he actually chooses to. It will take some getting used to, but it shouldn’t be too difficult. 

Has a monster like him ever acted before? It sure feels like it.

He performed several different tasks: running, climbing, flying, and shooting feathers. All while unseen by the naked eye. The feat even earned him a round of applause from the Coats.

“I can picture it already. He could slice apart an entire group of targets, and they wouldn’t even understand their deaths. A flurry of invisible blades!” One of them exclaimed with a smile that was way too wide given the subject matter.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get a taste of what this is capable of right now.”

Right on cue, the doors opened. Every feather on his wings and tail bristled instantly, ready to shred whatever possible threat that may enter. They wouldn’t be able to see him. It would be so easy, just like the Coats said.

But instead of another nomu that was simpler and more violent than him, a woman was shoved into the room hard enough to make her stumble forward and fall, the door slamming shut behind her. She was dressed like you, wearing only a thin blue shirt and pants. What did they bring someone like her in here for?

She was already back on her feet, scanning the area with wide eyes and shrunken pupils before moving her gaze to the humans that continued to observe from the other side. The fear in the air was so thick that Raptor could nearly taste it as she shook uncontrollably – he wondered if her knees would collapse from the trembling alone.

He was still camouflaged; she couldn’t see him at all. The urge to reveal himself is strong, but one: the Coats had yet to order him to deactivate his quirk, and two: knowing that she was in a room with a nomu will most definitely only terrify her more, so he stayed where he was, motionless and quiet.

For a suffocating minute, the only sound was her rapid breathing until one of the Coats finally spoke up.

“Kill her, Raptor.”

“What?” The woman’s voice was constricted by anxiety. She looked timidly at the man, who only stared back expectantly, waiting for something. “W-what?” She choked out again. She switched her attention to the door, still distressed and shaking. When no horrid beast entered the room like she expected, her panic increased even more, stuttering so badly that it was a challenge to discern what she was trying to say. “I-I-I w-I won’t...I’m s-so...p-p-please.” 

Her head whipped upwards to a vent in the ceiling. Nothing happened. The confused woman was now spinning around looking for something, hysterical with the knowledge that her impending doom was coming, but not knowing where or when. The weight of her dread was making him anxious.

The same Coat, however, only sighed in annoyance at the sight of the trapped panicking animal. “Don’t dawdle, Nomu.” The final word dripped with venom. It reminded him of his place: a puppet that should have no will of its own. Raptor didn’t want to kill, but if he defies them, then they will dig into his brain again, and the woman will probably be violently killed by a more enthusiastic nomu. He’s afraid of what they might take from him next. He can’t let that happen.

The shrinking woman is still whipping her head around in every direction as her bare feet take a step backwards, then another, completely unaware of the larger creature that stood right behind her. He can’t guarantee a painless death, but he can make it as quick as possible for her.

Raptor added an edge to some of his feathers, but reconsidered. That would require pinpoint accuracy, not worth the risk with a target that was moving so erratically.

His tongue curiously ran over the points of his teeth, checking their sharpness. No, that would leave too much of a mess.

His hands clenched into fists, and that’s when he practically heard the ding in his head. A simple method, but it should work just fine.

He was originally going to wait until she backed all the way into him, but that would be rather cruel. Killing her before she even recognizes the danger is a greater mercy. His hand struck with the swiftness of a snake, grabbing the back of her neck. The delicate spine could be felt beneath.

Raptor was not as strong as other nomu. That didn’t mean he couldn’t crush a human’s bones with little effort.

He felt her jolt, but that’s all she had time to do before the sickening snap and crunch sounded throughout the room, then she went limp with nothing more than a few final twitches.

Some of the Coats audibly gasped, while others clapped excitedly at the kill they couldn’t even see coming. From their perspective, an unsuspecting woman’s neck was suddenly crushed by an invisible force like an aluminum can.

One of them didn’t look very impressed. “Eh, a bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?”

“We’re not watching a bloodsport,” another one snapped. “Raptor is designed to handle matters quickly. A cervical fracture is fast and effective.”

“She was so terrible at her job. I think she deserved a terrible death in return,” another said. 

Their babbling continued while Raptor placed the body on the floor more gently than his audience would have liked. Her eyes were still wide open, frozen in that moment of realization just a millisecond before death. Still, things could have been much worse for her. 

“I still think we should have used his harvester instead. She’s becoming a nuisance.”

Raptor has grown to really dislike that voice, the voice of the man that takes him away every morning. He always stares at him like an expensive possession that turned out to be a waste of money. It’s an effort to keep his lips from curling over his teeth whenever the bastard’s around.

An older lady spoke. “Her relationship with the nomu is unique and warrants its own set of experiments after we cover the basics here. We already told you that.”

“Yes yes, I know. But her sample this morning was pathetic. It’s like she’s forgotten her job, too busy turning our greatest achievement into a softie. Call me petty, but I’d get a good laugh out of watching her be devoured by the nomu that she’s decided to become friends with.”

Anger.

“You are petty, and short-sighted. Do you understand just how extraordinary this relationship is?”

Another Coat butted in. “Sure, but what use is sentiment to a nomu? This was supposed to be a cold lethal predator, not a child that likes to draw on walls. I agree that the bond with its harvester is holding it back. It would be better off without her.”

Raptor hates it. He doesn’t want any of them talking about you. To think that they’d consider something as twisted as offering you to him as a helpless prisoner to execute, just like the one whose spine he had just snapped.

How dare they.

The lady was suddenly staring right at him with a look of shock before her aged lips curled into a smirk. Actually, everyone was staring at him now, and they all showed varying levels of discomfort. That’s when he noticed that he can see his hands in front of him again, along with his feet, wings, and the rest of his body. His fury made him lose his hold on the Camouflage quirk. They had all just seen his face of hatred.

And yet the lady continued to smile. “I don’t believe he agrees with you two.”

She then whispered something, lips forming what looked like the word ‘magnificent’ while her eyes bore into him. Even his rage was nothing more than a fascinating process to be examined.

Raptor wants to get out of here.

x---x---x---x---x

You’re alright. You made it out. You were bruised, but you made it out.

That High-End nearly broke your fucking arm when it came. It was always a pretty rough one when you jerked it off but for god’s sake, why did it always have to squeeze you like a stress ball? Thankfully, your painful shriek of “STOP!” was enough to penetrate the horny shield over its brain and it released you.

It wasn’t your first injury, but it’s been a while since you’ve gotten such a scare. It could’ve been worse – it could always be much worse.

The fact that you feel elated when you reach Hawks’s room shows how close the two of you have gotten in less than a week. Two prisoners who agree that this place can go fuck itself; one was pumping cocks on the daily, the other failed miserably at being a ruthless monster. They ought to make a movie out of this.

You enter the room to see him resting in the center while several feathers carve into different areas of the walls and ceiling. His understanding of shapes was becoming more complex at a rapid rate, if the current drawings were anything to go by. They looked to be unintentionally abstract faces, varying greatly in size and structure, but one thing they all had in common was oversized eyes. Every face was furiously scratched in, the sound of chiseling surrounding you and adding to the ominous aura given off by the etchings that lacked skill but teemed with raw emotion. 

The scattered claw marks from yesterday are still as visible as ever. Everyday, this place looks more disturbing even with the not-so-hostile creature that occupies it.

Something prompts his feathers to stop abruptly and return to him, followed by him quickly standing up and hissing. The badly-timed hostility makes you jump back. “Raptor? What is it?” You tried to stay calm as usual.

He drew closer, eyes narrowed and teeth bared at the purplish welts on the arm that held your gazillionth jar. Oh, of course. You waved with you uninjured one. “It’s alright. One of the High Ends was being a little heavy-handed. It stings, but it’ll get better.” 

Hot air hits you when he releases a snort. While he studies the bruise, you continue to examine the newest artful additions. “So...what do all of these mean?” You ask.

He follows your traveling gaze and mutters. “Watching. They’re always watching.”

He said it so smoothly that it gave you chills. “You’re tripping up less on your words. That’s, uh, good.” When a grunt is his only response, you keep talking. “Are these the doctors?” He nodded. “Did you...have to kill again?”

A beat. Then he nods again, more slowly this time. “It was easier.” 

You’re not sure what to say to that, deciding to instead rest a hand on his arm. For some reason, what he said didn’t scare you. It was you who asked him to act more like a nomu, anyway.

You both stayed like that for a few minutes, standing side-by-side in the middle of the room’s crude composition that illustrated his short life. Innocence, rage, and now a feeling of powerlessness. You can relate; your progress here was very similar except that the ‘innocence’ part can be replaced with ‘grief’, having lost contact with everything you were familiar with. 

“You know, maybe I can add my own additions to this sometime, if you don’t mind. Make this place our own little mural.” You giggle when his tail swings at the proposal. “There’s no way they haven’t noticed how odd of a duo we are by now. I wonder how those assholes feel about all of this.”

You’re grabbed and pulled into him so quickly that the jar slips out of your grip, rolling away as you’re pushed into a hard black chest. The tight embrace squeezes your swollen arm painfully. “Shit, that hurts!”

He whines apologetically and loosens his hold. Pain and lack of oxygen aside, it’s oddly comforting. You haven’t been hugged in ages, and here you were being held by this. A song of soft coos calm you, but there is a noticeable sad tone to them. You look up at him, chin resting on his pecs. “Raptor, I know it sucks here, and I don’t really know what to say to make things better, but I’ll keep trying to hang out with you for as long as I can, alright?” You reassure him while rubbing his chest. “Remember, you’re kind of the best thing that ever happened to this place. Not that my standards in this shithole are very high – they’re actually lower than a regular nomu’s sex drive – but it’s still an achievement you should be proud of.”

Your words did their job, if his lighter hums are anything to go by. His comforting heat was gone too soon when he gently pushed you back, following up with a press of lips against yours.

There’s no more clumsiness in his movements. He switched from light brushes that had you craving more to deep smooches that took your breath away. There wasn’t much else you could do except follow his lead. The teasing licks against your lips never fail to get you going, and he probably knows that by now. Unfortunately, you had to break apart for a breather, allowing him to cradle you as he waited.

“Who the hell have you been kissing while I’m not around to learn so fast?” You joked.

You didn’t expect him to look away and hesitate to answer before uttering, “I...remembered.”

If he was expecting that to upset you, it didn’t. You can’t stop his brain from working, and he no longer automatically gives in to any demands. You still don’t know what’s up with that. “Right,” you sighed. “Are you remembering anything else?”

“No...same things. Hawks...fire...death...I want to forget.” He pulls you in again, this time taking care not to add too much pressure to your bruises. His strangled attempts at speech have become smoother over the days, but hearing the winged hero beneath the layers of grotesque sounds that create his voice is going to take a long time to get used to. “Can...you...make me forget?”

A twinge of sadness and pity. Are his final moments the only parts that keep playing in his head, in a cruel loop? You direct all of your strength into your voice and speak. “Forget about it. Forget about Hawks and all of those foggy memories.”

He sits there and blinks with no clear sign that your words had any effect. 

Then he wilts and groans in defeat.

“No good, huh?” You shrug. You truly did wish you could help him. “There’s not much else I can do, sorry.” A pause. “Must feel like nightmares, I guess. I get plenty of those.” You rest in his hold while recalling some of the fears that manifest in your sleep. “Dreams about what they’ll do when they don’t need me anymore. I never had the guts to put myself out of my misery – don’t have many options to work with anyway. Maybe I can ask a nomu to chomp my head off.”

“No.” The word was growled out, felt all around you like a small quake. You quickly try to calm him by raising your uninjured arm to hold and caress his face. You know that he couldn’t exactly feel it anymore, but the memory of your touch is probably what still managed to soothe him. It was an intimate image, touching him so lovingly while in his arms.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stick around. We can make things easier for each other.” Without a second thought, you straighten up and begin pushing down your pants, Hawks already chirping in excitement and fumbling with your shirt, his talons ripping the cloth. You were naked in front of him once again, and the memories of yesterday already have your pussy lubricating itself in preparation. Samples...semen….you weren’t thinking about any of that. You just wanted him again.

“Let’s help each other forget.”

And just like that, you were devoured. His mouth was everywhere and you happily took it all. You were addicted to his touch as much as he was addicted to your flavor. The dark blue tongue moved gracefully across your face, the small grin and lidded eyes telling you that he quite enjoyed the sight of you covered in his saliva. You opened your mouth wide as an invitation that he gladly took, the strong muscle charging straight into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. It makes you gag and has tears pricking at your eyes, yet you continue to throb between your legs.

He fucks your mouth so fast and roughly that you’re forced to only breathe through your nose. You’re clinging onto him as you gurgle around the ravaging muscle, your nails unable to pierce his tough hide no matter how hard you grip.

Something solid rubs right against your sex, grazing your clit and leaving you moaning into his mouth. His hips were bucking into the air with a very prominent tent that constricted his growing cock.

It’s the first time a nomu’s dick actually touches you there. 

And it makes your walls clench.

You get closer for more friction, trying to grind against the massive erection while he finally removes his tongue from your mouth. That’s when he notices just how hard you’re trying to get off on his bulge.

Heat is rushing to your face at his puzzled expression. “You-” You gasp, still catching your breath after having him squirm down your throat for so long. “You feel pretty good.”

He simply watches you continue to rub against him – you don’t even notice that his hips are no longer moving, you just press closer to him and grind harder in desperation. His wings flutter and the rest of his body shakes lightly, his breaths coming out in short huffs.

He was laughing.

The look of amusement is so unexpected that it has your hips stopping out of embarrassment. And here you thought nothing else could leave you flustered at this point. “You don’t have to laugh. Trust me, you’ve looked way more desperate than I have,” You tease him. 

He clicks his tongue, then with a yank and a loud rip, his shorts are in tatters and his cock springs free right onto your belly. Another short round of huffs are heard from him when you squeak in surprise. Just where did this attitude even come from?

Beads of precum ooze from his pointed head and drip onto your stomach. Maybe it’s your lust-tinted lenses, but his cock is looking much more attractive than usual. Its curved perfectly to hit all of the right spots, and those ridges probably feel amazing when moving inside you.

“Want more?”

The low-pitched voice right in your ear has you shaking, like it was a question from the Devil himself. Thirst aside, you don’t know what you should say. You trust that he won’t fuck you to shreds like the other High Ends would, but the biggest issue…

“I don’t know if I should risk that,” you murmur, a hand reaching to rub the textured flesh. “As tempting as it is right now.”

His confidence is replaced with disappointment. That is, until he immediately perks back up and grabs your hips.

“Wait what are yoooo-whoa!”  You’re being lifted off the floor, legs dangling uselessly as he holds you easily, your body hovering right over his twitching dick.

Panic begins to set in. “No! Nononono I said-”

“I won’t.” He says softly. As softly as he can with such a voice, at least. “Calm.”

Instead of penetrating like you feared, he lowers you until your flushed lips are resting on the length of his scaly shaft.  

And then, slowly, his hips push forward.

The bumps and creases slide against you in all of the right ways. “Oooh fuck.” You adjust yourself to ensure that he rubs your clit as well. The sensation has you shuddering in his hands as the pressure inside you builds quickly. Your slick makes his dick smoother after each thrust, and when Hawks sees that you’re comfortable and lost in the rhythm, he begins to speed up. 

Your legs are swinging madly at a complete loss on how to handle the electrifying friction, but the nomu grunts and takes hold of your thighs. They close around his cock, greatly increasing the pressure as he continued to fuck past your thighs. “Stay there.” The vibration from his deep raspy voice only arouses you more. His hips collide with yours after each buck.

As amazing as it feels, your hazy mind recalls that Hawks shouldn’t be able to properly revel in this outercourse. “I-I thought...you couldn’t feel this.” You say shakily.

Hawks is eyeing your bouncing form with great interest, his hips not missing a beat as he answered. “Can’t. Just watching.”

He presses down on you more, slowing down his pace with his eyes still locked on your face. His tongue quickly swipes across your forehead to taste the sweat that has mixed with his saliva. “You look good.”

Goddamn him.

You felt close, so close, but even as your limbs tingle from the pleasure, your orgasm remained out of reach. The most severe ache that had yet to be sated, to be given any attention, was inside you. You have never throbbed this much in your life, you didn’t even know that your muscles down there could even contract this tightly. The dragging of his cock against your drenched lips isn't enough. You don’t care about risk anymore. Not after feeling what he has to offer.

There’s no voice telling you how stupid you’re being right now. It already gave up on you.

Good.

“Haw–shit–Raptor, inside. I need you inside.” You beg between your moans. He stills completely, which has you whining and squirming even more.

“Inside?”

Hearing him say it sobers you up a bit, but not enough to kill your desire. “Just pull out before you cum, alright? Think you can do that?” You ask.

He nods eagerly, wings and tail moving with glee as he lifts you off of his dick that was already lubed up by your natural fluids. He angles himself until the head is pressing at your twitching entrance. 

You can’t tell if you’re trembling from excitement or fear. Probably both.

The fine tip already has you being stretched wide, burning and stinging in spite of your pussy’s preparation. It makes you wince and want to close your eyes – to create some distance between you and the pain – but your curiosity has you looking down to watch him enter you, inch by inch. You can once again see your stomach distend as it attempts to accommodate the large intrusion, much bigger than the slithery tongue that previously invaded it.

But it’s exactly what you craved, the unique texture feeling even more delicious when inside of you. Your toes curl and legs quiver from his girth; not as meaty as the other dicks that you’ve treated, just enough extra thickness to give you a stretch that you’ve never experienced, without causing serious harm.

He reaches the end of your cavern with a few more inches to spare, and the drawn out moan slipping past his lips surprises both of you. You try to relax around him while he fights the urge to move. Black shaky wings expand behind him.

“Feel…” He gasped and choked, one would think that he was trying to learn speech all over again. “Can feel...squeezing. So gooood.” The last word came out as a strong rasp against your face.

The new discovery has you smiling, one of your hands rubbing at a much larger one around your waist. “You can feel it? You feel how tight I am, Raptor? How badly I want you to stay inside me and never leave?” He may not be able to feel your heat or your dampness, but it looks like he can’t escape the pressure from a cunt’s death grip.

He twitches inside, making you jolt. Oh, how quickly the tables have turned.

You scratch under his chin. Numb as he is, he still tilts his head like a pet dying for affection. “Then I want you to fuck me. Stop thinking, and just move...” You bring your face close to his, pulling off a seductive look and tone even when impaled on him. “...Just like a good nomu.”

Perhaps Hawks had a submissive kink when he was alive. It would explain why that riled him up so much that he was already slamming into you with absolutely no warning. 

It hurts. It hurts so fucking good. Every thrust tears a helpless cry out of your body. The scales grind against every nerve around your hole, while the ones deeper inside nudge your velvety walls as they move in and out, in and out.

You couldn’t talk between your screams, not with how violently he was pounding you. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and hung on for dear life with your face buried in the crook of his neck. His own muscular arms wrap around you in a deceptively loving embrace, pumping into you with a rhythmic smack smack smack.  All you can do is reap what you sow and take it. 

This wasn’t just for you, this was for Hawks as well. You gave him something that he could feel again. What began as whiny gasps for air soon became rolling growls that vocalize a need for more. 

Your orgasm barely sticks out of the continuous blinding pleasure as he plows harder through your spasms, your contracting muscles wrestling with the merciless cock to hold it inside. 

His tone is dark. Vicious. “Tight. So tight!”

It makes your greedy body want even more. “Oh, good job, Raptor. Such a good boy.” You praise him, feeling the brief falter in his movements. He really does like that. “Go ahead and take it all, as much as you need-ah. Don’t worry about me. Fuck me until I can’t think.”

The violent sex stops and you’re being ripped away from that wondrous cock in the blink of an eye. Before you can even question what’s happening, your world begins to spin until you’re suddenly on the floor. You’re getting adjusted onto your hands and knees right before being pierced again with a force that shoves you forward. 

Your thoughts struggle to keep up with the lightning-fast sequence of events, hindered even more by the warmth of the body hovering right over you. Hawks too was on all fours, though he looked much more comfortable and natural, wings fully spread out in a proud and dominant display as he throbbed inside of you. 

His hips snap forward, already at a rapid pace that rocks you with each hard impact and soon has you howling again. The floor was filled with uneven cracks and scratches that scraped your knees, not that the discomfort was easy to notice while you were being drilled into. As you latched onto one of his arms for support, you noticed right in front of you, was your first game of tic tac toe.

Drool dripped down from the snarling jaws above you and onto the innocent group of lines and shapes.

The mounting beast humped you with every ounce of energy he had. Your aching pussy couldn’t take it. Too hard...too big... you’re cumming again around his pistoning cock, moans melting into defeated sobs. The huge pair of swinging balls occasionally smacked right into your oversensitive clit. You were losing the will to hold yourself up, gripping his supportive arm more tightly while your thighs quivered. Even if you had the strength to, you had no plans to ask the feral savage to stop.

He currently wasn’t anything like the gentle experiment you’ve befriended in just a few days. Right now, with his head thrashing around and flinging spittle everywhere as he barked, and wings beating hard against the floor, he was terrifying. Powerful, hungry, and single-minded.

So this is what it’s like to give in to a nomu.

It’s scary.

It’s thrilling.

Every fast agonizing stroke right against your cervix takes your breath away, your mouth eventually just hanging open in an attempt to capture whatever oxygen it could into your lungs. Hawks curls into himself so that he can crane his neck and look at you, saliva flowing freely down his chin. Each breath came out as a throaty growl wafting against your sweaty face. He takes one look at your parted lips, and stuffs you with his tongue.

If your thoughts were more coherent at the moment, you’d wonder how the hell the muscle was strong enough to be able to move into your throat as hard as the dick that continued to wreck your insides. His hips assisted in gagging you even more with each thrust. The threat of asphyxiation only brought you closer to your next orgasm. 

Your mind was empty, save for the immoral thoughts that have long since driven off their more honorable competition. 

Just use me.

Your entire body was on fire, getting pummeled from both ends.

Just use me however the fuck you want.

Hawks is suddenly bombarding your cunt with short and speedy ruts of his hips, and that does it. Your limbs give out and leave you to plop onto the floor as your pleasure blooms all over. But his long tongue follows you, still pushing into your whimpering mouth to deprive you of much-needed air. He simply lowers himself and proceeds to fuck you hard into the ground, pressing your skin into his many carvings.

His tongue leaves...your eyes rolling back….

Hawks releases a horrid cry that sounds like both a roar and a bird-like shriek.

Exhaustion…

Hawks is too lost in the surprising sensations, dull but still intense, to realize that he’s shooting his thick load into your womb

Warmth...full...sleep.

x---x---x---x---x

“Get up.”

The voice is muffled as you slowly come to. Whatever you’re resting on doesn’t feel like your bed.

“I know you’re awake. Hurry and get up.”

You’re surrounded by warmth, by something breathing. Pain shoots through your back and legs when you stir. When you open your eyes, you see the golden eyes of a High End.

The fear does well in masking your aches as you scramble out of the arms of what turned out to be Hawks, who was lounging on his side like a giant cat.

And standing at the door, was the damned doctor that you had the privilege of seeing every day.

His stare looked even more judgmental than it usually did. Full-on disgusted, actually. Realizing that you’re still naked, you grab one of Hawks’s wings that were splayed out on the floor to shield yourself.

He simply shakes his head. “I’ve already seen enough. And heard enough.”

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

“I-I…” you stammer, panic rising in your chest as you’re unable to come up with any sort of explanation. You even turn to Hawks, like he’d somehow provide you with the answer.

“I normally don’t care what deplorable methods you people use to collect your samples, but going by the filth between your legs...” That prompts you to look down, and the second you do, you already feel a dense fluid oozing out of you and running down your legs that were stained with white. “...you actually allowed Raptor to inseminate you.”

His words, along with your accelerating heartbeat, thunders in your ears. Hawks is watching his seed leak from your raw pussy. He remains still and quiet, uncertain of how to act in the presence of a doctor.

“To think that someone would deliberately let a nomu breed them. I know that the two of you have gotten close,” His eyes skimmed past the many images and markings in the room. “But just how depraved do you have to be to go this far with a nomu?”

If this was before the days you allowed Hawks to touch you, you would have felt embarrassed. You are scared. Not only did he cum inside you, you’ve also been caught right after the act.

But any sort of shame?

You had the nerve to huff, still hiding your body from him not out of shyness, but because the asshole didn’t deserve the view. “I guess we’re all sick fucks around here,” you retort.

The glare on his glasses add to the intimidation factor of his glower. He takes a step forward and gives a quick tilt of his head. “Get dressed. You’re coming with me.”

Both you and Hawks are taken back. “For what?”

He scowls even harder. “Still asking questions? You’re lucky that you’re valuable right now. You have most likely been impregnated. This is an unexpected opportunity to observe one of Raptor’s offspring. We’ll be watching over you until the birth.”

You don’t move, still soaking in every word. This most definitely was a mistake. Not only are you going to be taken away from Hawks to be cooped up in a room with constant surveillance, you’re going to have a...fuck.

You feel the wing in your grasp vibrate softly, Hawks sensing your distress and attempting to silently reassure you.

“I said get dressed,” the doctor ordered impatiently. “Or are you still basking in the afterglow?” He snickered at his own joke before walking forward, ready to take you by force.

That’s when the nomu in the room finally stood up to step right in front of you, standing tall in all of his naked glory and easily towering over the man.

You had to give the guy credit for not looking phased by the very dangerous creature blocking his path. Then again, maybe he was just so sure that Hawks wouldn’t harm him in any way.

“Out of the way, Raptor.” Strong and firm. It’s the tone that ensures a nomu’s obedience, but you know by now that Hawks’s mind has grown beyond that.

As expected, Hawks doesn’t budge, still looking down with eyes of liquid gold.

The doctor only looks more annoyed, not afraid. “I knew you were defective,” he sneered. “Always hesitating during tests. Such wasted potential, yet the others insist on keeping you around. To do what? Decorate rooms? The idiots should have altered your brain by now.”

What? 

Hawks still didn’t move. The lack of reaction was beginning to get to the man’s nerves, his hands balling into fists as he contemplated what action to take next. You stayed mostly hidden behind Hawks, anxiously looking past his wings.

When he accepted that the nomu wasn’t going to move, and forcing his way past him was too dangerous of an option, he smirked. “Fine, then. You’re only making yourself look worse. I’m certain I can convince them to move forward with that operation after they see how defiant you’re being right now.”

No! You feel so damn useless. The bastard wanted to change him into something more compliant. How much would that change Hawks himself? You don’t know if there’s anything you can do that won’t just end with you being thrown into the lion’s den. 

The doctor placed two fingers to his temple. Fuck, his quirk. 

“Backup needed in South Hall, room five o’ ni-”

He stopped. Pure shock took over his face, words replaced with the faintest choked sounds. You truly considered asking if he was feeling alright.

Until a thin line of red appeared at his throat, blood oozing out, the bleeding getting heavier by the second.

“What. The. Fuck?”  Your breaths were becoming too short as you watched him crumple, the liquid crimson quickly pooling around him. “What the fuck is going on?”

The confusion and fear was making you delirious. God, you were going to pass out again, this is too fucking much, this asshole was about to take you away because you have a monster growing inside you and then he was going to turn Hawks into a regular High End but now he’s dead but who the fuck killed him and what’s about to happen to you-

“Calm.”

A large hand on your shoulder grounds you, steadying your breathing and expanding your tunnel vision. Hawks is in front of you, releasing soft coos.

“Wha–how–wha…” Your shaky lips are unable to form words, but he seems to understand. Something materializes right in front of you. Small, black, and sharp. It’s a feather, floating between the both of you. “What?” You finally spit out.

“Camouflage,” that’s all he says, as if that explains everything. Since when was he able t-

Whatever. There’s too much shit happening right now.

Still shaking, you look to see the doctor still bleeding, some of the blood flowing into the engravings and painting them red.

“Y-you killed him?” You whisper.

He nods, staring apathetically at the body.

“But, I thought you didn’t…” You trailed off, too stunned by everything that has happened to finish.

He turned his attention back to you, red irises – as red as the blood that continued flow – staring into your frightened eyes. “It gets easier.”

Once again,  you’re not sure what to say to that.

He looks to the door. “More coming soon.”

Right, whoever the doctor was contacting must be wondering why his telepathy was suddenly cut off.

“I want to leave.”

“Leave? Like, you want to escape?” Another nod. “That’s...I don’t know if that’s possible. There are villains around here. Strong villains. Shit, they might release some of the nomu on us!” 

“You want to stay?”

Your mouth opens, then closes.

“I’m strong, and fast.” His wings unfurl and sharpen every feather, his tail curling around you so that you can see the knifelike plumes on it. “Can heal very fast and blend in. Can do a lot.”

The display and simple explanation reminds you that you haven’t seen any of his combative skills firsthand. This is what they made him for.

Well then…

“Right, then how about we give them a final test?” Just when you were finally calming down, adrenaline is already being pumped back into your veins. “Let’s show them how unstoppable their latest work is.”

His little peep of agreement nearly ruined the moment, but it reminds you why you’ve grown so fond of him.

He turns around and crouches, motioning you to climb onto his back and wrap your arms around his neck. It was awkward, mostly due to the wings that you were squishing under you, but when you voiced your worries he just gave you an “It’s fine.” He warned you to hang on extra tightly whenever he gets low to the ground. He’s a much faster runner on all fours.

Stepping over the corpse that has bled dry, he stopped at the door and braced himself. 

“Ready?”

Your arms and legs were secured around him. You breathed in through your nose then out through your mouth. 

Breath in. Breathe out.

A lot of death and destruction is probably about to come your way.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

It would be great if you never had to fill another jar ever again.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Your clammy skin hasn’t felt sunlight in fucking forever. Are the heroes even still alive out there?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You try not to think about what’s happening in your womb.

“I’m ready.”

The door is pushed open. 

x---x---x---x---x

Targets first spotted at 12:50

The old surveillance cameras flicker and lag. It makes noticing the running black figure all the more difficult. On most screens, you’ll see nothing more than a blur. There will be the occasional confrontation with villains, sometimes accompanied by researchers with incapacitation quirks. More often than not, the escapees easily outmaneuver them, crawling and leaping on every surface and zooming past their potential captors before they can even follow.

Some of the stronger villains and nomu slow the duo down only briefly before they collapse from an unseen force. The recovered bodies possessed deep cuts across major arteries or accurate punctures in their major organs.

Some footage shows the two sometimes climbing into vents, temporarily escaping the cameras.

The woman on the High End’s back was injured during the fatal showdown at the hospital’s exit, enraging it to the point where it swiftly killed everyone in its vicinity, including fleeing researchers that were only caught in the crossfire.

Targets escaped facility at 13:09

x---x---x---x---x

Subject: Raptor

SUBJECT HAS ESCAPED. NOMU IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS. TAKE EVERY PRECAUTION IN RETRIEVING IT.

Some things are too good to be true. It turned out that Raptor’s brain has, shall we say, faulty wiring. Several observations have noted him hesitating upon certain commands. This should not be a constant problem with any High End. I don’t understand why they did not immediately work on this issue. It’s possible that they feared irreversible changes to his unique mind.

I personally believe that many of these flaws are the result of a compassionate host. The hero Hawks was unmistakably a gifted combatant, probably the most gifted individual the facility has gotten their hands on, but his attitude did not translate well into the role of a nomu. On the bright side, I never thought I’d ever see nomu, let alone a High End, show such genuine fondness over a human. I believe it’s worth another try in the future.

But for now, we should stick to what works. There are more than enough lowly criminals to go around.

[chenziee]

Thank you @kerowyn-fr​ for the cute prompt :D I hope you like it :)

[READ ON AO3 OR UNDER THE CUT]

----------

When Garp handed him the newspaper with a stupid grin on his face, former fleet admiral Sengoku already knew he wouldn't like what was written inside. Taking a deep breath, he slowly unfolded the papers and immediately, the huge, bold headline punched him in the face, making him nearly choke on his tea.

Somehow, he wasn’t even surprised that Morgans found out about Kaido’s defeat faster than the navy but goddamn it, this bunch of kids really did it. Sengoku honestly didn’t think he’s see the day of Kaido’s fall, much less for it to happen thanks to some stupidly young pirates—the words ‘Straw Hat - Heart - Kid Alliance’ seemed almost mocking at this point. Damn brats doing the government’s job for them again.

Although, he did have to admit he would love to see Sakazuki’s face when he found out about this.

Looking at the attached photo of the apparent post-victory celebration, Sengoku’s eyes zeroed in on Trafalgar Law’s blurred figure and despite himself, he smiled. The kid might be a pirate, a member of the worst generation no less, but Sengoku still couldn’t help but feel proud of him, proud of the child Rocinante died to save. When he had talked to him on Dressrosa, he was worried the pirate was going to burn out, or completely lose his way after getting his revenge, but his lively—if annoyed—expression while he ate his rice ball and shoved at an equally annoyed Eustass Kid’s face with his foot… It gave Sengoku the feeling that instead, he had found himself somewhere along the way.

With the ruins of Onigashima behind him, he really looked like he was about to own the seas  and Sengoku hoped Roci was watching and was happy about the man his adopted son had grown into, about the great things he had managed to accomplish.

Just then, Garp moved to stand right behind Sengoku, reaching over his shoulder to poke at the photo. “Can you believe these three? They can’t even celebrate beating two of the emperors at once without fighting. I bet you Luffy started this,” he said, before bursting out in loud laughter.

Sengoku had to laugh as well. It really was ridiculous; they were like three little peacocks showing off their tails to see whose is the prettiest.

Wait, three?

He frowned, looking at the photo again. Now that he thought about it, Law really wasn’t the type to shove at someone with his bare foot, judging from how reserved he always acted during warlord meetings—all two of them that he actually bothered to show up for anyway. But he could only see Law and Eustass so where was the little Monkey?

Now that he looked closer, he could see that the foot in Eustass face was twisted at an unnatural angle that could only mean the ankle was either fractured several times over, or it was made of rubber. Following the limb with his eyes, he finally noticed another body splayed on the ground in between Eustass and Law, and soon he also found the arms that held up a plate stacked full of rice balls. It looked like the little Monkey was trying to keep the plate as far away from Eustass as he could and Sengoku was sure those rice balls were the whole reason of this scuffle. Then, he finally reached his head resting against Law’s thigh, clear threat in his eyes as he bared his teeth, looking like he was ready to bite Eustass’ metal arm off.

Sengoku shook his head in disbelief. It was no wonder he didn’t notice him at first; for one, his black hair was blending almost perfectly with Law’s dark coat, and two, who would look for the little Monkey in someone else’s lap? Certainly not Sengoku, and certainly not in Law’s lap.

Suddenly, the reality of what he was seeing downed on him.

Someone had a few questions to answer.

—————

As the Polar Tang pulled up to the Thousand Sunny one sunny afternoon, Law was surprised to see another small ship already there, swaying gently in the waves next to the Straw Hats’ ship. He didn’t recognise the vessel so at first he assumed maybe Straw Hat’s brother came to visit but then he noticed the navy flag and froze.

Listening carefully, he couldn’t hear any fighting; it was completely quiet, almost eerily so. But Law couldn’t see any damage anywhere, and the navy ship seemed too small to be a threat in the first place. The more he thought about it, the stranger it all seemed. He gripped Kikoku tighter, gesturing to his crew to wait at the Tang for now before he called forth a room and teleported himself onto the Sunny.

His anxiety wasn’t eased when he opened his eyes to see absolutely no one on the ship. Looking around the deserted deck, he tried to at least find some signs to tell him what in the world had happened but there was nothing except something that looked like a half-eaten newspaper page.

He was almost starting to panic when he noticed some movement in the direction of the kitchen and when he looked, he found all the missing Straw Hats in a huddle by the door, the movement he saw apparently being Tony climbing over everyone else to get as close to the door as he could.

Law sighed, rubbing at his forehead. He swore he would murder all these people one day—if they didn’t manage to stress him out enough to kill him first.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asked when he made it up the stairs to stand behind the Straw Hats, making everyone turn around to stare at him.

“Torao, hi!” Tony whisper-shouted from where he was hanging onto Nami’s shoulder, the only one who bothered with a greeting.

A long and heavy silence filled only with the crews judgmental, accusing stares followed. Honestly, this crew was so damn lucky their doctor was so cute or he would have beheaded all of them and stuck them to the mast.

“Well?” he prompted, raising an impatient eyebrow.

Several glances were exchanged until finally, Roronoa looked at him. “We were hoping you would explain why Luffy is getting a lecture.”

Law only gave him a blank look, trying to let his silence speak for itself but before the intended effect could arrive, Usopp interrupted, “Yeah, you could have warned us. Why didn’t you tell us who your grandfather was?”

What?

“For real. I almost had a heart attack when he got on board,” Nami added with a glare at Law as if it was somehow his fault.

“Right? Between Sanji, Luffy, and Torao, I can’t tell whose family is crazier.” Usopp shook his head before continuing in a disappointed tone, “And the fact neither of them bothered to tell us is ridiculous.”

Black Leg clicked his tongue then, lightly kicking Usopp in his shin. “Don’t lump me in with them, my only family is in East Blue.”

What?

“What the fuck are you people on about? My whole family is long dead,” Law snapped, his fingers flexing threateningly as his grip on Kikoku tightened again.

A beat of silence passed. Then Robot slowly raised his hand and pointed at the kitchen with his thumb. “Explain why this guy came here demanding he talks to his ‘grandson’s super boyfriend’, then.”

“And why he then grabbed Luffy and dragged him inside to talk about you. They’ve been in there for about half an hour now. I only hope Luffy isn’t getting squeezed to death,” Nico Robin added oh-so-helpfully.

Law’s head was spinning. First a nonexistent grandfather, now he was suddenly Straw Hat’s boyfriend? Ridiculous. He might have liked being around him, maybe his heart even fluttered when Straw Hat smiled at him in that blinding way of his, and perhaps he's been letting Straw Hat touch him more than strictly necessary, possibly even holding his hand once or twice but they weren't dating. Hell, Law hadn't even confessed yet.

He shook his head to make himself focus on the matter at hand. This 'grandfather' was a more pressing matter than his unaddressed feelings. "I'm going in," he sighed, then paused, looking around the eavesdropping huddle of people. "And get the hell out of here or I'll toss you in the sea."

"Sure you will," Nami muttered with a roll of her eyes, a smirk on her lips.

Law shot her and all the other grinning idiots a glare, which finally made them all shuffle away. Law was sure they’d be back the second he closed the door behind himself, though. With a sigh, Law gripped the handle and pushed the door open.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, two people and a goat turned to look at him and Law did a double take. Straw Hat was one thing. A random, actual, live animal on board was weird, but he’d seen much weirder on this ship. The old man who was sitting opposite of Straw Hat, however, that was a completely different issue.

“What the fuck?” Law muttered, unable to say anything more coherent.

“Hello, Law,” fleet admiral Sengoku said with a nod.

“Torao!” Straw Hat greeted as well, grinning and waving at him before he pulled out the chair next to him. “Come sit, your gramps has really good rice cakes!”

Law slowly turned to stare at Straw Hat instead and, a short moment later, moved forward as if on autopilot, too stunned to do anything but comply. Only when sat down and Sengoku tilted his rice cake packet towards him did Law manage to break out of his trance. “You're not my grandfather," he blurted out, eyeing the rice cakes suspiciously.

Sengoku hummed. "Technically not but you are still Rocinante's boy so I feel responsible for you."

Law blinked; it was true Cora-san was like a father to him and Sengoku did say Cora-san was like a son to him but that seemed a little shaky a connection to warrant the old man going around claiming he was his grandfather.

"We've been chatting about you," Straw Hat said, stretching his hand out to grab a handful of the rice cakes Sengoku was still holding out, then offering a few to Law.

At that, Law finally conceded and accepted the snack. He had to admit they were pretty tasty. "What about me have you talked about?" he asked, doubtful, yet almost afraid of the answer.

Straw Hat pursed his lips and frowned, quite obviously trying to remember the actual contents of the conversation. "Just how cool your powers are and that I shouldn't break your heart or something. It's not like I'm going to do that though, why would anyone do that?"

"Break my—" Law sputtered, his eyes going wide as he stared at the pirate who seemed like he didn't understand the implications of such a statement.

"I was just making sure your boyfriend was aware of the worth certain people place on you and your devil fruit and the danger that puts you in. Also that I will feed his precious hat to Baarbara if he makes Roci cry,” Sengoku explained, pulling out a rice cake of his own.

Ignoring the use of Cora-san’s name over his own, Law took a slow, deep breath before responding curtly, “I can take care of myself—”

“That’s what I said,” Straw Hat next to him announced proudly.

Law paid him no mind, simply continuing— “and he’s not my boyfriend.” He frowned, then added one last question, “Also who the hell is Barbara?”

“Baarbara is my goat,” Sengoku said fondly as he glanced at his pet, who was by his side happily chewing on something that looked suspiciously like one of Nami’s maps—Law really hoped he was wrong about that one. “But are you sure about that?” the former fleet admiral asked with a raised eyebrow, his eyes dropping down’t Law’s body to pointedly stare somewhere just above the tabletop.

Only when he followed his gaze did Law realize the position he was in. Somewhere along the way, Straw Hat had turned to the side in his chair, putting his legs over Law’s lap and, for some reason, Law had apparently put his own hand on his knee without even noticing. It was… yeah, it felt pretty damn intimate and Law felt heat raising to his face.

Slowly, he looked up at Sengoku, who looked like he was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. Then, his gaze slid to the side to glance at Straw Hat.

The other pirate was grinning back at him, looking entirely too amused by Law’s mortification, and Law scowled. “You’re not my boyfriend,” he said quietly, sounding uncertain even to his own eyes.

“I kind of am,” Straw Hat said, his grin widening even more. “Torao, you can be so stupid sometimes.” As soon as he was finished speaking, he started laughing in that cute, contagious, absolutely maddening way of his and Law…

Law has never felt so dumb and mortified in his life.

Yet, he still couldn’t find it in himself to push Straw Hat away when he leaned forward to give Law a messy, loud kiss on the cheek. Somehow, this had turned out to be simultaneously the absolute worst and best day of Law’s life.

He was still not showing his face around the Sunny again for a while though.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Loss

The secretary flinched on her seat when she heard the glass door of the hospital shattering and yelped in fear when THE Overhaul slammed his fists on her desk, eyes burning with rage as he almost shouted.

"(L/n) (Y/n). Tell me where the fuck is her. NOW." she trembly nodded while picking her notebook on and the telephone.

He had received a call on the middle of a meeting, mentally rolling his eyes in irritation as he excused himself and accepted the call.

The way his eyes had widen in horror and how he stormed out of the room made everyone not only scared, but each one to have certain curiosity and worrover the situation.

What happened to let Overhaul on that state?

A doctor came by along with his nurse and Chisaki grabbed the hem of his jacket, the glare he was still wearing seemed like fire was going to spill from them by any moment while he demanded thhat he spilled out what the fuck had happened.

"S-She suffered a accident." The doctor gasped out, breathing in a long sigh of relief when the man let go "A villain fight on the center, the man accompanying her didn't survived but she is still alive." They patted their clothing, shakily looking up at the fuming man in front of them.

"The ambulance found her phone and saw it on her emergency contacts yout number. You're family or friend?"

"Mind your own business and let me in." He shoved past the doctor and abruptly entered the room, ignoring the nurses pleas for him to wait.

The sign of your bruised and beaten up image made him want to vomit... the bandaged wrapped around your head as your hair was sprawled out on the pillow you were laying on...

He felt his throat tightening as his eyes seemed to burn... slowly reaching the bed to caress your patched up face with his thumb carefully...

The only comforting sounds he heard on that cursed cold room were the beeping of the machine... indicating that you were unconscious, but alive no less.

"Get the fuck out." He muttered angrily as his hands turned into shaking fists, the doctors and nurses frowing but yet respecting his demand.

He carefully grabbed your hand on his both gloved ones as he took the seat next to you... He controlled the urge of shouting and letting his tears fall as he numbly stared at the bedsheets, his attention focused only on the beeping.

~

He ended up falling asleep on that place, head resting on his crossed arms on the bed.

He, for the first time, thanked the heavens for letting him have a light sleep, because he woke up with your stiring and weak groans.

Chisaki jerked up, eyes wide as his lips trembled a bit at seing his angel's eyes finally cracking open.

"(Y/n)..." he breathed, lowering his mask down when you looked at him confusedly "(Y/n)! My angel, thank god!" He, without thinking straight, wrapped his arms around you tightly as he breathed in on your scent and kissed with tears rolling down his face.

He only came to realize later that instead of feeling your arms wrapping around him or even a cute little giggle of yours, your body had tensed up under his hold...

Now it was his time to frow, grapping onto your shoulders as he parted only for a few inches.

"Angel I swear on my grave that I am not sending any garbage to accompany you anymore..." he talked, looking at your confused and quite... feared eyes.

"U-uh..." you awkwardly muttered as you slowly but firmly brought your hands to his gloved ones and took them off from your shoulder... Chisaki arching a eyebrow at your action in total dissaproval when you placed his hands to himself.

Then he widened his eyes in complete horror and disgust, hives appearing om his pale skin as his brain processed those despicable words he never once thought he would hear it from you ever again...

"Who... who are you?"

~

"It seems that after the impact, her brain got affected by the section where it lands the data of her memories..." the doctor spoked as him tapped his finger on his chin while analyzing your X-ray.

Chisaki didn't even dared to say a word... not even being a complete arrogant towards the man as he explained the situation of his partner.

"Her brain is still functioning and she has still her memories from her whole period of school aparently."

"... then why?" He asked in a numb tone as he stared at his closed gloved hands.

"It seems to be a rare type of amnesia ... she actually remembers all of yesterday's events for example; but due to the blow she must have received, the part where the memory about you is kept was the most affected."

"What's the cure?" He growled immediately, trying to surpress his angry shaking.

"There is no cure mister..." the doctor grunted when Chisaki grabbed the hem of his shirt.

"You as a doctor have the fucking obligation to find a cure or at least treat any diseases on this planet so you got the nerves to say that THIS doesn't have even a fucking treatment?!" He shouted, the doctor still keeping his calm attitude somehow.

"The human brain is a complicated thing... she might return her memories or not. We can't know. The maximum you can do now is try little by little to show what you were to her..." he mentally sighed in relief when Chisaki putted him down slowly "But not everthing, go slow... she might have a combustion or be too much overwhelmed."

His parted lips trembled underneath his mask as he wordless left the office...

You... didn't know him. Didn't know who he was or what he was to you...

He was a stranger. A fucking stranger to your eyes...

He dragged his feet to your room. You were already standing up and fixing up your hair on a mirror before you yelped at noticing his presence.

"Uh, hello..?" You awkwardly gretted him with a uncomfortable smile, not knowing how long he was standing there.

He nodded as in a gretting before his broken hearted eyes locked with your own. You felt pity over the man... the moment you told him you had no idea who he was he panicked, opened the door of that hospital room and shouted for the nurses to come explain this.

"...Come. I... will take you home." You tilted your head in confusion.

"I... no. Thank you for the offer but I-"

"I know where you live..." he muttered the words "I know this sounds stupid... but I am your.." he breath in to control the burning in his eyes as he looked down at the floor "Your boyfriend."

"Eh?" He wanted to chuckle so badly at hearing that precious confused sound... but the situation didn't let him "... I'm sorry. I... don't remember you..."

"They already told me. How does your house look like? Just to make sure." He tried, afraid of hearing that your answer would be that cursed apartment of yours.

"Uh... its a japanese like style house. Has a yard with beautiful trees on." You smiled, making hin want to scream in frustation.

It was his house. The Shie Hassaikai's house. You remembered the damn place but not him.

"... Come with me." He sayed nonchantly as he shived his fists onto his pockets and left the room, you following him right after.

You entered on his car and didn't speaked a word as he drove... afraid of making more weird the situation than it was already.

You recognize the place as he stopped and left the keys with a subordinate.

"Ah so you weren't trying to kidnapped me or something." You tried to joke, but that man's face didn't even twitched out of that broken shattered look as he only nodded and continued to walk.

He noticed that you didn't recognized the people on there either... being extremely awkwardly. Still, you were extremely polite with everyone of them, especially Pops.

He winced at remembering the first he brought you here... your actions being the same but instead lf just closing in yourself liek now, you found some comfort on him on the new area...

Pops patted his shoulder at seing Chisaki's huge amount of pain on his eyes while all he wanted to do was succumb onto his knees and scream until his vocal cords exploded.

You looked even more uncomfortable when he guided you to your shared bedroom. Noticing your embarrassment and... distrustful look.

"Not comfortable sleeping on the same room with a stranger." He more pointed out than asked.

"Yeaaah." You scratched the back of your neck before looking up at him "B-But i can sleep on the couch! You don't need to-"

"Is not necessary." He interrupted "You have all the rights to keep this room." He left without much of a word, only telling you that dinner was going to be soon and if you needed him, all you have to do is call.

You arched one eyebrowd of yours while watching him go away... what a weird guy.

~

Pops told him he wasn't obligated to do those things and even Chrono had offered to take his shift... but he refused it.

He needed to drown on his work to forget this pain and his misery.

A knock on the door had snapped him out of it as he rubbed his eyes and allowed whoever it was to enter.

"Excuse me? Am I bothering you?" You asked shyly.

"Never." He answered with a sigh "Something wrong?"

You took the opportunity to enter and sit on the chair in front of him, the awkward atmosphere still on the air.

"I... you said you're ny boyfriend. Right?" He nodded numbly "What type then? I-I mean. I want to know you... again." You found the strengh to look at those amber eyes.

Boyfriend or not, this man was hot.

"... You want the absolute true or the only love dovey shit?" You giggled at his boldness, making him for the first time smirk underneath his mask.

"Grab that black album from the shelter. I will try my best."

He couldn't help but smile at seing your curiosity as you paced through the pages, asking him the main events before you pointed out awkwardly that this was kostly you on that thing...

"I don't like taking or seing my own photos... But you always kept pressing me to at least have one or two... with those cursed puppy eyes."

"Cursed?" You asked, arching a eyebrow at seing the same elder you greeted earlier on one of those.

"Yes. Every time you use them I can't just say no."

"Ah! So you're the secret softie type!" You smiled at him whole he couldn't help but glare daggers at you.

He breathless chuckled at your gasp when he told you he was part and the leader if the yakusa and in that exact same moment you were underneath their roof.... although he almost choked up when you had noticed the pingent adoring around his neck.

The yingyang. A symbol that represented you both way too well. He cared one side while you carried the other.

You took your own in your hands and the way your eyes squinted while looking at the pingent made his early feelings return back.

Because he knew with that look of yours... you were trying hard to remember... but you couldn't. Your brain wouldn't let you have those memories back...

"Enough." He picked abruptly the album and placed it over the shelf with a sigh. You apologized and got out from his office shortly after... maybe his attitude had scared you... godammit!

He punched the wall until his gloved hand was all bloody and bruised before he let out a miserable shout.

He lost his angel... he lost your memories. His world was nothing but pure darkness now.

~

You giggled at seing both white haired man and the creature smaller than him arguing on the end of the hall as you passed through it.

One week had passed after your accident and now you were pretty used to with everyone on the house.

Well... almost everyone.

Chisaki was the man who revealed to be your boyfriend but now he just seemed even more broken and depressed then you saw him once on that hospital.

You tried really hard to remember him... but nothing about this man came up. You also noticed how angry he got when you called him 'Overhaul' or only 'Chisaki'...

You explained to him that calling him by his firts name was still a bit uncomfortable, he understood that and simply waved you off... but you still noticed the way he gripped or turned his hands into fits whenever you called him.

Everyone on there was trying to make you regain your memories back desperately. You even caught a taller man discussing with a muscular one on the hallway once about the situation.

"If miss (Y/N) don't recover her memories soon, master will get worse than he is already."

"You're fucking lucky Tengai. Overhaul at least didn't used his quirk on you three times in less the one hour only because you had asked how was his chick doing."

"You beg though for this Rappa."

"I WASN'T BEING FUCKING SARCASTIC THIS TIME! I WAS GENUILY ASKING!"

You choosed to not know of his quirk after you heard that in fear of what you might discover...

You made your way to the bedroom and sitted on the bed with sigh, picking your cellphone to mess with since you didn't even touched the device ever since you put your foot on here.

You frowned when the screen showed up, a picture of the man you trued so hard on remembering... he didn't seemed to have the knowledge that he was being photographed as he seemed to be reading something without his mask on for once.

His eyes were serious but calm while he readed the book, and something that made your heart twist on yiur ribcage was that you noticed that his gloved fingers were interconnected with bare ones right on the corner.

It was your hand in there.

You didn't needed to know his whole life to already know that this man had a despised for touch and was a mysophobic... but you catched plenty times him going to reach for your hand or your hair only to pull his hand back with a broken sigh and walk away frrom you as far as possible.

You had to admit that this pained you somehow.

You dropped your cellphone, not feeling like messing around on it anymore as you shivered at a cold breeze that passed through the window...

You didn't like it very much closed places so you opted to get up and grab a hoodie instead of closing the window.

Just when you opened you saw the iconic green jacket that Overhaul always used whenever he was out or when he just felt like it.

Curiosity consumed you as you caustiously picked and holded close... scenting the intoxicating smell that left you feeling like you were in heaven.

You wondered a bit before shameless wearing the coat on, way bigger than you but you felt... safe.

You took another sniff... gasping and dropping into your butt when a bright and rather painful flash came into your head as you fell.

You groaned and placed your hand on the bed as you tried to get up, wincing as another flash came by making you want to scream in pain... before you saw it.

Him. The man. Your... your boyfriend of three years!

Chisaki Kai.. Chisaki Kai! You remembered him!

~

"KAI!" he stopped writing on the papers when he heard your voice shouting his first name.

... it was his mind playing tricks on him. You didn't called him 'Kai' anymore.

He scoffed and went to return to writing before he dropped his pen and widened his eyes at hearing your screams again.

He got up and opened the door, stepping in on the hall way and looking at both sides.

"KAI!" You breath out, when you turned on a hallway and saw him looking at you with worried yet serious eyes.

You runned towars him withiut a care, jumped on him as he groaned at the impact with the floor, wincing at not knowing if that place was clean or not.

"Kai!" You breath out as you cupped his face on your hands as your tears fell, nuzzling on him "My life, my boyfriend, my devil! I remember! Everthing!" You cried, while Chisaki's eyes widened as his pupils trembled a bit.

He managed to at least sip up, arms now holding you with a iron grip as he still processed while you cried on his shoulder... his own relived tears falling at hearing that you called him your devil.

"(Y/N).." he breathed out in a smile underneath his mask, hugging you even closer as he buried his face on your shoulder with a shaking sigh "My angel... my precious angel you're back..!" He whisper shouted as he holded onto you tight.

He growled in disaproval when you separated before grunting when you grabbed him by the hem of his shirt after yanking his mask down to crash your lips with his... smirking when you felt him sigh on it as his hands went to your waist... straddling his lap.

"I'm so so sorry! How could I ever forget you?!" You whispered between kisses, crying a bit as he hushed you harshly while wiping your tears away with his gloved fingers, taking advantage of your mouth being open to after days taste that scent flavor of his angel he had craved for...

"You aren't the one to blame my love. Never." He said after taking a break for at least to have oxygen back to his chest, helping you up from the floor. "How I wonder? I was running out of hope already..."

"Your scent. Your cologne. When I took your jacket-"

"Ah yes. Little thief." He chuckled at your pout before you skirked devilish and snuggled even more on his coat and on him.

"It was.. like a flash. Kai..." you breathed in on his neck, tearing up at feeling him resting his chin on your head as his gloved fingers worked thorugh your hair.

"My life is so painful and so dark without you my angel... those days were like hell." He admited, subsconciously touching his bare lips on you as a kiss.

Chrono just had stepped in on the room before he quickly turned back when he saw his childhood friend cupping his lover face on his hands as he traced her face with his lips lovely... the skies even seemed to get brighter wben Overhaul's partner recuperated her memory...

[chasingthepoguelife]

Drew Starkey x Austin North x Reader

Incase anyone is wondering what I’ve been thinking about and what I want for Christmas

Summary: There’s no stronger relationship than the one you and Drew have. There’s also no stronger friendship between Drew and Austin, so when Drew suggests to make Austin part of your relationship for one night, neither of you can say no.

Warnings: SMUT, just filth, threesomes, choking, swearing, condomless sex

Drew always looked forward to Fridays. He’d have the next 2 days off from filming, running around Charleston with his cast mates, and of course alone time with his girlfriend. He considers himself the luckiest guy in the world, landing his dream role, and the day you chose him, despite meeting Rudy and Austin first. He was even more relieved how you and his best friend hit off, no issues at all. Drew knew he had it bad for you from the start, and everyone else could see it. It was no secret how you were all about each other, no matter how many people tried to interfere. He felt even more for you when he heard you that one time talking about how hot Austin was, but noticed how you never looked at Austin the way you look at him. Austin wasn’t too shy either, always complimenting you, calling you beautiful, but of course in a respectful way. It was obvious that when you met all the boys, each one thought you were drop dead gorgeous. None of them really thought about it as Drew was the only one who caught feelings for you, but if you weren’t off limits, they would try to have their way with you.

Drew and Austin finally got back to their apartment, plopping down on the couch after a 14-hour work day.

“I’m not moving from this couch unless it’s to piss,” Austin yawned.

“Nothing is going to make me get up from my ass,” Drew said.

The boys sat in silence browsing through Netflix until they heard a knock on the door.

“Dude you get it,” Austin insisted.

“Did you not hear me; I’m not getting up!” Drew yelled.

“Ok I’m just coming in!” a voice yelled that both boys recognized.

Both boys didn’t even notice the presence of another person until she was right in front of them, eyes bulging within seconds. Those were the tightest pair of biker shorts Austin had ever seen. He’s seen you in short skirts and bikinis before, but this was completely Drew. As for Drew, who has seen you naked many times, this was like unlocking a new level. Both boys were too busy gawking to hear you yelling their names.

“I said hello! Can either of you hear me?” you yelled.

“Just a long day babe, what’s up?” Drew asked.

“I just wanted to stop by. I’m heading to workout and I was thinking when I’m done, we could go out to eat. Austin, you should come too,” you said flashing a smile.

After agreeing on the plans, you got into normal conversation which made Drew come down from his moment of being hot and bothered, but that seemed to go away when he stopped talking as nothing could distract him from you. He started to notice Austin’s gaze on you, and how he was sitting weird. He knows Austin thinks you always look good, but there was a tension in the room. Maybe it was the porn Drew would watch on the nights you couldn’t be with him, but an idea struck.

“Babe, don’t go yet, stay here. I was thinking we could play a game.”

You knew that tone in Drew’s voice, the tone he always used before he suggests you guys try something new.

“In front of Austin?” you gasped.

“So here’s the thing. I know you think Austin is hot, and Austin I know you can’t help but stare at her all the time, I would too if I was you. Maybe it’s long overdue, maybe it will relive things, maybe it’s just for fun, but what if you let Austin and I fuck you at the same time?” Drew boldly asked.

The room was quiet as Drew awaited the answers from his girlfriend and best friend.

You’d never tell Drew, but before you even met him, your biggest crush was Topper from Outer Banks. You were so caught off guard when Drew swept in and won your heart that you forgot all about Austin, but often thought of what his bodyweight would feel on yours.

“If y/n is comfortable with it, why not, it could be fun?” Austin said.

“I can’t say I haven’t thought about. But this can’t be weird, for either of us, I mean it. This happens one time for now and no one else can know, especially Rudy,” you said sending daggers into Austin’s eyes.

“I promise y/n. It will be all fine. It’s something new and hot. Yeah, I think you’re gorgeous but I don’t feel the way Drews about you. That’s for you guys only,” Austin said relaxing you.

Drew came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“This is just for fun babe. We won’t do anything you don’t want us to,” Drew promised.

“Well then, ok, let’s do it, you just better make it worth it.”

Drew wasted no time as he moved his hands closer to your core, kissing and licking all over your neck and ears, whispering how beautiful you were. He let go of you and pushed you into Austin’s arms. Having your body pressed against his sturdy and muscular body was enough to make you cum right on the spot. You took in Austin’s intoxicating smell as you’ve never been this close to him, lifting your chin to share your first kiss with him. Austin started to dig his hands into your waist, deepening the kiss, rubbing circles into your body with his crotch. To Drew’s surprise, ha sat back on the couch, watching Austin work on you first. He never thought he’d be the type of boyfriend to be ok with this, but his mind and body were definitely were. Eventually he had enough waiting around and charged, his hands going straight for your panties.

“I think I’m a little jealous over here. She is absolutely dripping only after a few minutes with her.”

Drew started rubbing circles around your clit causing your head to fall back into his chest. He pushed you up for a second for Austin to take your shirt off. If Austin’s bulge wasn’t noticeable know, it certainly was now, simply from staring at your bare chest. Meanwhile with Drew still working on your clit, you knew you were mere minutes away from your first orgasm. Without notice, Austin’s mouth got to work on your nipples. You cried out the second his entire mouth covered your nipple. Your left hand was caressing Austin’s hair as he worked on you, and your right hovering over Drew’s pants. The sensation of both of them on you was like nothing you ever felt before. It didn’t take long before you were moaning Drew’s name and cumming in his hands.

“For someone who just came you seem a little pouty,” Austin noted.

“Because it’s not fair that I’m the only one still wearing clothes,” you winked.

You grabbed both boys by the hand, leading them to Austin’s room.

“What?” you asked as they looked at you funny. “It’s only fair that this time I’m in Austin’s room.”

You wasted no time pushing Austin onto the bed. Your mouth quickly attached to his as you worked your way down licking and kissing all the way down to the band of his boxers. Drew was no stranger, only a few inches behind you as he watched.

“Do you tease Drew like this,” Austin growled. You wanted to make sure he knew you were in control now. His boxers were already down to his knees, cold air hitting his cock as you licked and kissed everywhere but. You could hear his desperate moans which only made you better. With the first lick to his tip he was moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear. You started with little licks here and then, until you took as much of him as you could. Your mouth popped when you felt a coldness on your pussy, Drew of course, playing with you with, with his ring on.

“Babe don’t you stop. I want you to keep working on Austin while I fuck you,” Drew demanded. As soon as his tip hit your entrance you were already moaning. A few more seconds, and he was all the way in, stretching you out the way he always does. The vibrations from your mouth on Austin’s dick put him over the edge. After a bunch of “Fucks” and “omg y/n”, Austin’s cum was all over you for the first time. You lifted your back as Drew continued to pound into you. Austin just cumming 30 seconds ago, getting hard again watching you get fucked as your tits bounced covered in his cum. Now your face was barley visible to Austin as it was buried into the mattress from how hard Drew was fucking you. You could feel the orgasm coming on as your vision began to blur, something that often came with fucking Drew. He lifted you up and tilted your head back while keeping up his pace. He was this close to finishing as he leaned down to kiss you softly. You knew Drew chose to fuck you like this because this never failed to make you cum. The orgasm came rushing in as Drew tightened his grip around your throat, causing you to gag, not breaking eye contact as he cummed all over your back. Before you could fall into the mattress, Austin caught you in his arms, playing with your hair as you stared into his eyes.

“Why do girls always look so cute right after they cum?” Austin chuckled.

Drew moved closer to you while you were still in Austin’s arm to check on you, now smushing you in between the two of them, still naked and sticky.

“Are you ok baby?” Drew’s chin rested on your shoulder.

“I’m better then ok,” you laughed. “I’m just a little sticky, I want to clean up.”

You’re a little relieved that Drew and Austin didn’t ask for more. Yeah, they really wore you out but like having actual sex with Drew inside you just for him, it keeps it more special that way. You layed in between both boys as you all came down from your highs, taking in everything that happened, tracing your fingers all over their chests.

“Are you both sure that this should only be one time?”

[adaodinson]

It could be exciting

This is just a little something I came up with, I don´t know if I´ll do a second part. English is not my first language so I apologize now for any mistake.

Summary: You are both insanely shy, but what happens when one of you gets made fun of.

Warnings: Swearing, racism, just Bucky and reader being shy and cute as hell.

Relationships: Bucky x Mexican!Reader (this is for the story, there aren´t many dialogues in Spanish but I put the translation next to the phrases).

He walked through the same streets everyday, he liked that routine and liked knowing what to expect when walking to his usual pub where he enjoyed reading, sometimes drinking and even looking at the people walking by. The one day he had to find a different road to get to the pub was the one day you had settled in your new job at the animal shelter. It had recently opened, so Bucky had never seen it, but when he passed by after changing his usual way because of a sidewalk that was being fixed he stood from across the street watching the cats and dogs (separated by a wall but on the fenced garden). He loved animals, he had never owned one though, but he knew he wasn´t specifically a dog or cat person, he was just an animal person.

You were happily walking downstairs from your small apartment (it was over the shelter since the job also offered the option of renting the place upstairs) heading to the cats´ part of the garden. You were too busy looking for the thin red ribbon you knew the cats loved to play with to notice the metal-armed guy looking at the animals. His heart was already throbbing at the sight of the 8-10 cats either sleeping or chasing each other before he saw you, so when you got there, he only got a new reason to stay for longer watching.

You seemed completely in your element, he couldn´t help smiling to himself (widely). You were seating down in the middle of the grass holding the ribbon in the air, moving it from side to side with all the awaken cats seating in front of you, following the bright red thing that was in your hand. Once you had their attention you started moving it across their faces to annoy them, and then you swept it through the floor to make them follow it. You were giggling like crazy at the things they were all doing: standing in two legs when they couldn´t reach the ribbon, turning in their back and rolling, jumping from side to side and even hitting each other while trying to catch the toy.

If he had been happy at how pretty you were, at how comfortable you seemed around the animals and at the beautiful vibe you gave, when you started playing with the cats, moving playfully and clumsily, rolling on your back just like them, petting them, chasing them and letting them crawl on top of you when you were laying on the ground he regrated not having installed a camera on his metal arm just to be able to look at this moment forever. Your laughter was like music to his ears. I don´t even know her name, Jesus. He thought to himself.

He stayed there for God knows how long, but since he was at the other side of the street you never saw him. Oh but he had seen you, and he had already stablished in his mind the new street he would cross everyday from now on.

A few days went by and he did as he promised, he walked down the same street, and even when you weren´t there, he stayed watching the playful creatures for a while (but his heart ached whenever he realized you weren´t there).

You had finally settled everything in your new apartment, there were no boxes left. You sighed and threw yourself at the couch with a groan. You were about to fall asleep (in a pretty uncomfortable position) when you felt little claws jumping on your butt and settling on your back. You could hear the purr coming from Wolfie (who happened to be quite heavy) and you tried to move, but it was too late, when the cat settles on you, you can´t move. You were falling asleep again when your phone started ringing.

-Ugh tiene que ser broma!!!!- (You gotta be kidding me!!!) You shouted as you felt Wolfie jump off of you and you stood up walking over to the table.

-Hello?- You said.

-Hello?- You repeated slightly annoyed.

-Argh no era nadie- (It was nobody). Since you were already up you decided to go to the library, you could use some silence (yes that goes for Elton, that’s always demanding love) and your friend Dani had recommended you a book recently called “The alien”, so you decided to go and find a place where you could buy the book and also seat and read.

It didn´t take you long to find “The pendulum”, a cafe-library that was four blocks away from the shelter. It was great to know there was such a place so close to your place.

You found the book in no time (it was amazing to see they had a section of books in Spanish) , ordered a black coffee with a teaspoon of sugar and sat down in the most hidden table you could find. You weren´t antisocial, just a huge introvert that could sometimes talk to people easily, but that enjoyed not being disturbed, especially when reading.

You were pretty caught up in your book, but the long-haired guy with deep blue eyes certainly was enough to get your attention. He was insanely handsome, like ridiculously, and he seemed to be happy walking through the aisles of book. You smiled to yourself; sure It was great to get to see cute guys every now and then, but that was always it, you weren´t interested in dating, or more specifically, on initiating a conversation with a stranger. He saw you a couple of minutes after he entered the place and immediately recognized you as the shelter girl. He went to ask a girl that worked at the store for the book he need, she had a bored look on her face that made her seem kind of rude, but you didn’t like making assumptions about people..

Of course she had seen the cute guy and had been wandering around him waiting for him to ask anything so she could flirt, but at the moment he only had eyes for the clumsy and funny girl that worked at the shelter. He was shy, like really shy, he had never considered talking to you, he knew exactly what would happen, but he was happy with being able to see you at the shelter and now at the library. He had been walking around for ten minutes and forgot he was actually looking for a book, so he headed to the first worker he saw.

-Hey, I´m looking for a book called “The other side”, it´s pretty old and I haven´t seen it in any shelf- He asked calmly.

-Hey cutie, come with me, I´ll look for it in the computer- She said while tangling her hair with her fingers and smiling.

She seemed nice (at least when she was flirting), and it was none of your business if she wanted to talk to the guy, or if he wanted to talk too. Normally you didn´t care, sometimes the handsome guys you saw would flirt with other girls, sometimes they would flirt with you, but this time there was something about the blue-eyed that made you want to go and help him. Maybe he just seemed shy, but something told you he was different to the other guys you had seen.

-Let´s see- The girl said while typing- Mmmmm it´s only available for Kindle, if you have one you can buy it there. And if you do, we have a gift card for it of 15 dollars in the purchase of any item from the store that´s over 20 dollars-.

-I´m sorry, what´s a Kindle?- The guy asked shily. Okay, he was cute as hell, you thought. He genuinely seemed to not know, not because he was ignorant, but maybe because he was used to actual books, not electronic.

The girl laughed rudely.

-You really don´t know what a Kindle is? Hahahahahaha from what century are you?- She asked while still laughing. You were in the perfect spot to see his face, and that seemed to really affect him. Now that was something you wouldn´t tolerate, you knew what it was, being made fun of for not knowing things. You quickly stood up resting your book on the table and walked over to them. They were pretty close, so it wasn´t weird that you had heard the conversation.

-Hey- you said angrily to the girl- you enjoy making fun of your clients? I´m sure then you know absolutely everything, right?-.

She looked at you a bit shocked, but mainly pissed.

-Aw you´re defending the cute guy? I´m sure that´s the only reason why he would ever notice you- She answered. Oh she´s messing with the wrong one.

-Unlike you, I don´t care if people notice me, and it´s not my problem if you feel the need of being approved by everyone else. I defend him because you´re being an asshole and I know what´s like to be in his place so unless you want me to get you fired leave him alone or help him find what he is looking for-. You stated.

Bucky was impressed at how clever you were, and he couldn´t help the smile that creeped into his face while looking at you.

-Get me fired? Huh- She laughed- It´s my word against yours-

-It´s your word against hers and mine, I wouldn´t be so confident in keeping your job if I were you- Bucky said with a tone that seemed perfect for the occasion. He looked at you in complicity and winked an eye at you. And to be honest, you almost fucking fainted.

-The client´s always right, plus there are cameras here- Shit! You thought to yourself, just what you needed. The fucking accent. You had a pretty good pronunciation, and with the amount of idiots that saw a threat in latin people you were thankful for that, but on that last phrase the accent came out stronger.

-Oh hahahha, so you´re one of those huh, that should get back to their country, that cant even speak English right because they only speak Mexican- She said in between laughter.

-Hey!- Bucky said angrily- if anyone should get out of here is people like you-. You felt your heart jump in your chest and you turned to him with a thankful smile.

-And wait, did you just say “speak Mexican”? HAHAHAHAH It´s Spanish you idiot, and for your information, there is more that one country in Latinamerica. See, that´s being ignorant and racist, she should feel bad, not you-. You said winking at Bucky. He smiled widely and you could have melted at the sight.

-Ugh whatever, get the hell out before I…- She couldn´t finish, because the manager of the store came from behind a shelf and started talking.

-In the name of our store I apologize sincerely for this. Here is the book you were looking for sir, we do have it, and a card for you miss to get a book, both for free-. He continued to apologize and when he finished, he took the girl to his office. Later you would confirm she got fired. After thanking the manager, you went back to your table, followed by Bucky.

-Thank you so much- He immediately said- Seriously, I don´t know how to thank you for what you did-.

-Thank you too for defending me back, and honestly, for being a nice and smart guy other than a racist idiot-.

-Oh you don´t have to thank me for that- He said quietly as he felt his heart beat faster. You were talking to him, to him, directly to him, you, that amazing girl that even before knowing your name you were already wandering in his mind all the time.

-I´m Y/N btw- You said placing your hand in front of him, for him to shake. You were dying for his touch, even if it´s just a handshake. And he was dying too: your name was beautiful, and he was about to touch YOUR hand.

-James, but you can call me Bucky- He said taking your hand as his mind raced with thoughts of how beautiful, smart, nice, kind you were. This was ridiculous, he would normally not even talk to people and now he wanted to know everything there was to know about you. He wanted to tell you he had recognized you from the shelter but thought it would be weird so instead he did something he had never seen himself doing ever again.

-Mmm, would you like to, I don´t know, mmm, only if you want to and if your free, of course, mmm would you like to…- Seriously, could this guy be any cuter.

-I´d love to go out with you- You said slowly, praying for that to be what he was about to ask. You got your answer when his face lit up in a way you had never seen before. And as a result, you´re face turned to a bright red and got covered with an idiotic smile you didn´t know you had.

-You can put your book in my bag, just remind me I have it- Oh he wouldn´t, it was the perfect excuse to have a guarantee he would see you again.

He handed you the book and opened the door for you. You were both smiling like idiots at each other and started walking. You were so lost in each other that none of you had said where you would go or what you would do. You just walked and thanks to God none of you got run over by a car before you agreed to go to a restaurant that had just opened, it would be exciting to try something new, you both thought before heading out to the place.

[deathisanartmetzli]

A Capri-Sun Pouch || Nadia & Metzli

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @humanmoodring @deathisanartmetzli

SUMMARY: Nadia and Metzli make a deal.

WARNINGS: None

Really, it wasn’t Nadia’s fault that she was drinking coffee this late. It was Coffee Plus’s fault for being open late enough for her to grab an americano to go while she walked around town. Used to, when she woke up from the first exorcism over a year and a half before, she would go on runs late at night, wearing whatever clothes she’d had on for the day, in an attempt to exhaust herself. Now, Nadia didn’t want to be exhausted. She just wanted to be awake. So awake she was, walking around town a little too late for most people to be comfortable, a to-go cup of coffee in her hands that she occasionally sipped on.

There weren’t too many people out, so Nadia walked a ways to the closest cemetery. She wondered what it said about her that a year ago she had been so scared of the dead. Really, a year ago she hadn’t been herself, another woman in her head and body. Now the dead provided a kind of comfort that she couldn’t get from the living, as much as she enjoyed being around people these days. During the day, she needed emotions, to not feel alone, and the library was good for that. The Artesian was good for that, too, on nights that she worked the bar. But when it was late, and when she didn’t want to bother anyone, the dead made good company. The ghosts kept her own feelings at bay, even if she couldn’t feel them the way she felt the living. They were a reminder that she wasn’t alone, and, God, Nadia hated being alone. Sometimes she craved being alone. It was a paradox. There was someone other than the ghosts out with her; they seemed less focused on her and more focused on another, and she looked around, curious. “Hello?”

Sleep hadn’t found Metzli in over a century, and it wasn’t going to, ever. After the last few days they had, they just wanted to roam about, maybe find a snack, but mostly just let themselves wander. Bex’s blood from the day prior kept them sated, but they could always eat a little more. Their appetite waned though, as they found themselves strolling about a cemetery. There was too much to think about, too much to figure out. Answers escaped them and it frustrated them to no end. Maybe this was a bad idea. Yuca would be curled up at their feet by now if they had just stayed home. She’d be purring and even making biscuits as they played video games.

With a sigh, an unfamiliar voice sauntered into their ears. Tilting their head in curiosity, Metzli saw Nadia. “Yes?” They answered, acting as if they truly belonged there. Ghosts surrounded them, but they ignored them completely. No use speaking to the dead if you had nothing for them, after all. “What are you doing here so late at night, miss?” Metzli asked with a hint of charm, trying to mislead the stranger into thinking they were innocent and cared about her well-being.

Another person that Nadia couldn’t feel. Like Griffin, like the ghosts. She looked at the stranger, her curiosity growing even more. It was always strange when she couldn’t feel someone, when she knew they were standing in front of her. Or, at least, she hoped they were standing in front of her. A part of Nadia wanted to reach out and touch them, to make sure. She was never really sure. But she responded easily, holding up her cup of coffee and saying, “Just, you know, out for a walk. It’s a nice night, right?” She looked up at the sky, taking in the thick clouds. “I mean, it’s not, like, snowing in August at the moment.” Which was really fucking cool, in her eyes. Or maybe warm was the right word. “What about you? It’s kinda late for anybody to be out, right?

“Can’t sleep. Figured I’d do something spooky.” Metzli replied, turning on their charm. Nadia was cute, really cute, more like absolutely gorgeous. Definitely a sight that they were happy to see. “I’m Metzli, what about you?” They extended an ice cold hand to shake, the other lazily went through their curls as they smiled at Nadia.

Seeing someone, especially a woman this late at night wasn’t usual, and it almost always meant they were either dumb or supernatural. Metzli gathered that it was the latter. Though she smelt human, there was an aura about her that they couldn’t quite place yet. An aura that the ghosts around both of them responded to. The response wasn’t negative by any means, they hoped she wasn’t any trouble.

Nadia laughed. “You know, maybe I’m just weird, but cemeteries aren’t all that spooky.” She ran a hand through her own hair. Really, the forest was much spookier. Or abandoned buildings. Her apartment before it had been cleaned. That weird fucking company on 666 Brimestone. Plenty of spookier places than a cemetery.

“I’m Nadia,” she said, taking Metzli’s had and giving it a shake. Maybe their hand was just cold because hers had been warmed by her cup, or maybe it was the air. Somehow, though, Nadia didn’t think so. She’d been told she had cold hands, but theirs were like ice. “Nice to meet you, Metzli,”she added.

It was Metzli’s turn to laugh now. Their smile grew as they did, and they were relieved that she was responding well so far. “Yeah, you’re definitely weird,” They replied playfully. “But that’s okay. So am I.” Carefully, they sat onto a bench near the two, needing to get off their feet. Not only that, but they practically expected Nadia to follow.

“You sure you’re just out for a stroll? Pretty woman like you shouldn’t be out so late. This place likes to prey on you.” Metzli’s words sounded vaguely like a threat. Maybe it was. They were hungry enough. But no, they were trying to be better. “Luckily, you ran into me though. I ward off creeps and all things that go bump in the night. It’s kind of my super power.” Patting on the bench, they compelled Nadia to join them. “Come. Sit.” The words were heavy, and subtly demanding. If they couldn’t get a meal, at least maybe they could have a distraction.

“You know, I keep encountering other weirdos in the cemeteries. I don’t know what this says about me or you.” Nadia kept her tone light, joking, friendly. She might not be able to feel them, their presence and emotional dead zone for her, but she could tell that they were flirting. She’d ignore it until it got too blatant, though, just to make sure. Fuck, she wasn’t even sure that she knew what flirting was, doubt creeping in with the way that she couldn’t feel them, couldn’t really know for sure.

“Just out for a stroll, yeah.” Nadia moved to sit without even thinking, keeping a respectful amount of distance between them. “I’m kind of like you. I couldn’t sleep.” She didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want to see the things that sleeping always forced her to relieve or imagine. What’s a memory? What’s a dream? How could she possibly know, anymore, when her mind hadn’t been hers for so long. Nadia raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid there’s not much left to prey upon, but I do appreciate the, uh, creep warding.”

“It says we need to find new places to hang out,” Metzli chuckled, wincing slightly from the broken bones obtained from the day before. An arm draped across the back of the bench, their hand hovering only mere centimeters from Nadia’s shoulder. “Creep warding? Oof. I need to work on my flirting game. I may be getting rusty.” They mocked being struck in the heart, pretending to be hurt by simple words. This was made obvious by yet another charming smile.

“Really though. ‘Not much left to prey on?’ Something’s up. You don’t come to a cemetery ‘cause it’s particularly fun. It’s quiet. It has solitude.” A certain sincerity laced their voice, becoming a little vulnerable in the moment. “If I’m being honest, I don’t sleep. I can’t…” Even if they literally could sleep, they probably wouldn’t. But not knowing whether or not Nadia knew of the other side to White Crest meant they had to be careful. “Too many thoughts. Too many memories…you know?” Metzli’s eyes were soft and a little distant, thinking of all the events as of late.

“Hm, maybe.” Nadia cocked her head to the side, taking in their wince, reading their facial expressions as much as she could. And, right, yeah, okay, they had been flirting. They were still flirting. So Nadia kept her smile carefully neutral. “Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m notorious for not recognizing flirting well. And, besides, I’m, like, kind of in a relationship, so,” she waved a hand over her face, “I’m a little blind to this kinda shit.”

Keeping up the neutral look, something she’d worked on over the years, Nadia said, “What? No, no, I think that cemeteries are a hell of a time. This is, like, totally where the party’s at.” And she avoided looking at the ghosts around them, the way they swayed a bit more, coming in closer, their features a little clearer. Her expression turned empathetic, though. “God, yeah, I relate to that. The not sleeping, the too many thoughts, memories, shit like that.” She rubbed her arms, chasing away imaginary, ghostly fingers and real chills.

“Is literally everyone taken in this town? Can’t catch a break.” Metzli rolled their eyes, but kept their arm on the back of a bench. “Trouble in paradise though? You said ‘kind of’ and I can work with that.” A small chuckle escaped their throat as they spoke. There was no chance now, but they didn’t care. Nadia could still be a distraction, a welcomed one at that. “God, I haven’t slept in like…over a century.” It sounded like they were exaggerating when they were actually being completely honest.

A solemn look was strewn over Metzli’s face as they thought back on everything. How they wished they hadn’t met Bex. No, not that. They wished that they had never been convinced to give up their soul. “Can I be candid?” They asked abruptly, “Are you different? What are you? This town is weird and I just need to know.”

A bit surprised, Nadia said, “Is everyone in town taken? Surely you haven’t been turned down that much. You’re-- I mean,” she motioned at them, “you’re, like objectively insanely hot.” She blinked, though, and shook her head at their words. “Oh, no, no trouble. It’s just new. I was…” she paused, trying her best to think about how to word things, “out of town for a couple of months, so things got paused, but, no trouble.” She watched Metzli closely as they spoke, considering their words. “Long time to go without sleep,” she mused.

“Honesty’s always appreciated,” Nadia said, and maybe that came from being best friends with someone that literally couldn’t lie. Even if Nadia was shitty at returning the favor. Even if she relied on little white lies to help her feel like she was in control of her life. “Am I different?” She repeated the question only to give herself time to consider what she wanted to say. “I’m-- Well, yeah, I guess. I didn’t really know about it for awhile, but I guess. I’m an empath. Super lame, right? Supernatural empath.” Nadia rolled her eyes. “It sure is fucking weird. Are you… also different?”

Metzli smiled at the compliment, confidence building once again. It had been a while since someone was so blunt about their appearance. “Insanely hot, huh? Thanks,” Leaning back, they rested their head on the back of the bench, letting themselves relax. They were in good company, supernatural company. “Empath isn’t lame. It’s not as lame as being a twilight reference.” A huge grin formed on their face and they brushed a hand through their hair.

The air was cold, but the interaction between the two was warm. A warmth they had only really experienced with Bex as of late. And a little bit with Milo too. Was making friends this easy? “If you didn’t get it from that alone, I’m a vampire. A shitty, soulless vampire.” Metzli insulted themselves, feeling utterly down and broken. Picking themselves up again, they scoffed at themselves and ruffled their hair once more.

“Can’t forget objectively. You’re, like, really attractive,” and Nadia raised an eyebrow, “and you totally know it.” She got as comfortable as she dared, rolling her shoulders, the sound of bones and joints popping loud even to her. “Oh, come on. I’m a glorified moodring. And one without any sort of healing or strength or speed or anything. Kinda totally lame. Especially in comparison to Dracula.”

And Nadia had kind of figured the some kind of dead species thing, but it was nice to be right. She’d only ever met one other vampire, and the only question she’d really asked was if he’d met Queen Elizabeth I, and he’d been nothing like Metzli. She looked at them, frowning. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? I mean, I don’t know about the soulless thing, but you don’t seem too shitty.”

A hand waved dismissively at Nadia, obviously disagreeing with her statement. As far as Metzli was concerned, their only saving grace was their gallery and their cat. Nothing but horrible acts and deadly attacks. For as long as they could remember, they never thought twice about what they wanted to do kill-wise. No one's life mattered anyway, not even theirs. “Just wait,” they replied solemnly. “Once I’m done with this little theory, I’m probably just gonna go back to my antics. Not gonna care who I bite or who I hurt anymore. You met me at the perfect time.”

Their smile faltered, only for a moment, not looking forward to the disappointment they’d most likely conjure. “Being an empath must be shit sometimes. I feel no empathy. Very few feelings that connect me to others, actually. Can’t imagine the exhaustion, on top of your own life too.” Metzli thought out loud, trying to shift the attention to Nadia. She probably needed the cover of night more than they did.

“What kind of fucking theory are you testing out?” Nadia asked, squinting at them in the dark. Maybe there was something to this claim of theirs that they were soulless, but, somehow, she felt like there was more to it. She laughed, the sound as bitter as the coffee in her hand. “What can I say? I’m a lucky girl. It’s really up for debate on what kind of lucky, but I’m lucky as shit.”

Nadia knew that tactic, the one of changing the subject back to the other person to avoid talking about things that, really, were always unavoidable eventually. Still, she allowed it. She couldn’t remember how many times people had allowed it for her. “Like I said, it’s the lamest superpower. And it doesn’t even work on everyone. Like, I can’t feel you. Or other, uh, undead people, I guess. Not really sure how that works. But, really, now that I’m figuring it out, it’s the least exhausting thing about me.” She took a sip of the coffee.

“Whether or not I can be good,” Metzli answered simply, with no semblance of emotion. Their eyes avoided hers, not wanting to delve too much deeper on the subject. “A friend of mine said it was a choice, so recently I took to not consuming blood unless I knew where it was sourced from.” Sucking breath through their teeth, they chuckled dryly. “Pretty much starved for almost two weeks and had to feed off of her. Stupid, I know, but I had to start somewhere.”

They were thankful that Nadia took the signal, and didn’t press much further. Like them, she had probably experienced being pushed to reveal information they weren’t ready to, thus she understood the need to just move on. “What’s more exhausting? How hot you are and the many suitors that want to get with you?” Metzli joked, bringing a lightheartedness to the conversation.

Considering Metzli’s words, Nadia looked at them before nodding. “I mean, yeah, it’s kind of a choice. “Good” is a relative word that we put a lot of societal expectations on, but, like, it’s totally subjective. What I consider to be good could be completely different to what you consider to be good, which could be different to what, fuck, I don’t know, the pope considers to be good. Good and evil are binaries that only exist in fiction, I’m afraid. Nothing’s that simple.” Nadia wished it was that simple. There was nothing that she wanted more than to be able to call Cordelia evil and let that be the end of it, but she’d been more than that. She’d been a person, once upon a time, and greed and selfishness had made her twisted, but she was still a person. “We’re all just people capable of both. Soul or no soul. If that’s a problem for you or whatever.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nadia asked, “Do vampires do the whole blood bag thing, or is that made up by Hollywood? Whatever the case, uh, to paraphrase some kickass cinema, people are friends, not food.” Then again, who the hell was she to attempt to curb a vampire’s appetite? She looked at Metzli with a lopsided smile. “Nah, it’s the constant reliving of near death experiences,” she joked back. “Really weighs down the mind, exhausts the body. But, like, if I sleep, it wins, right?”

“I guess so. I’m just more inclined to commit heinous acts without questioning it. Without any regard to anyone. You don’t get to be soulless without doing something exceptionally…horrible.” Metzli trailed off to think for a bit. Being so open lately had made it easier to reveal information, easier to talk and do more than just flirt. Nadia had a way about her too, though. She was lighthearted even about her own troubles. Metzli liked that, they liked not having to be so serious about these things.

“I’ve only done the blood bag thing a few times. I got one from a really obscure source that said they got it from a hospital. It was expensive, but I don’t know the town well enough yet to know where to get my food.” They shrugged a little weakly, embarrassed by the lengths they had gone to just to attempt to be “good.”

Even now, Nadia had no serious disposition about her pain. Sure she looked a little hurt, but that didn’t stop her from teasing herself about it. “You humans need sleep though. Does anything help?” Metzli asked, their voice a little dry and uncaring despite trying to seem genuine. They felt nothing, and did not want to do anything to help, so if she revealed what would and they could do it, they would. Doing the opposite of what they want, ensuring they’d be doing some good regardless.

“There are plenty of people with souls that commit heinous acts without questioning it,” Nadia said. Hell, all Cordelia had been was a soul, and she’d never felt guilty. Or maybe she had, and Nadia had just been asleep in that time. Or thrown out of her body. “You’re not, like, special. I don’t know, maybe you just have a better excuse. ‘Sorry I killed your mom. I left my soul in my other pair of pants.” Maybe she was making too light of this situation. Maybe she needed to tone it back, some. She’d been told, when she was younger, that her sarcasm and stupid dry wit would get her in trouble one of these days. At the very least, her parents had never been impressed.

“Locally sourced and organic blood bags,” Nadia mused, thinking that this was the world that she was living in, now. Where she had conversations with people who shopped for blood bags like they were fruit at a Whole Foods. Or maybe drugs in a back alley. “Well, I’ve always heard that the good stuff is the most expensive. And, you know, kudos to you for actually trying not to feed on the first motherfucker you see. Or, like, in my case, the first sleep-deprived dumbass walking alone at night.”

Laughing at both Metzli’s tone and words, Nadia said, “Oh, yeah, humans absolutely need sleep. I crash really hard every few days. But nightmares are a fucking bitch, especially when there’s always just a little bit of, like, uncertainty about what’s real and what’s not. So I try to put that shit off as long as possible.”

Metzli laughed heartily, even throwing their head back. “Oh man, that was good. I needed that laugh. Fucking shit. Wow, you’re adorable.” Their tone was lighter, feeling better with how Nadia approached the matter. Her way of handling sensitive topics was refreshing, granting them a little bit of freedom from the depressive state they had fallen in. “I thought about it, not gonna lie. But I’m pretty fed at the moment anyway. Trying to keep my figure, you know?” Another smile creeped up on their face, obviously joking.

It had been a very long time since they had had a nightmare. But they remembered them, albeit the memories weren’t fond ones, they remembered them nonetheless. “Been a while since I had one,” Metzli stated, “But I do remember them sucking. More than me too,” Another joke, an attempt to keep the mood light. “Always thought having someone there would help, but…yeah, never got that chance. And now I can’t sleep anyway. Can you do anything to stop them? Or make them better at least?”

Metzli pondered on the idea, maybe keeping her company would help. Hell, maybe they could get a payment via feeding off of her if she agreed. They could do something good and totally get something out of it. That’s how it worked, right?

“I aim to bring laughter and joy everywhere that I go,” Nadia said, the tone of her voice dry even as she schooled her face into a deadpan. “And I take full offense at being called adorable. Puppies are adorable. Cats are adorable until they hit that point that they’re just large and grumpy and mean. But grown women with designer bags under their eyes? Not adorable.” She took another sip of coffee. “Fair enough. My blood might give you heart palpitations, anyway. Do you have a heartbeat?”

Nadia supposed that it would have been quite some time since Metzli had a nightmare, especially if they couldn’t sleep. She wondered if the absence of a soul played into it in any way, as well. Could one experience bad dreams if they didn’t have anything to feel bad about? Was that what it meant to be without a soul? “They do indeed suck worse than any vampire could ever hope to. Sometimes having someone there helps. It’s nice to be able to feel people, to not be alone. But it’s always a game of real or not real, you know?” Is she still there? Is Nadia still in control? How long has she been asleep? Where is she? “I sleepwalk, too, so that’s fun.”

“No, no. I’m a vampire. Undead. Can’t really be qualified for that term if I have a heartbeat,” Metzli tapped on their chest and laughed. “This thing hasn’t moved a muscle in over a century. But your blood would probably start it up again.” Another laugh and they were feeling much lighter. This late night walk ended up working out very well. Even if they probably wouldn’t scratch a certain itch. They leaned back and rested their arms behind their head, even more comfortable than before. Save for a few groans from the damaged ribs.

“I’d like to challenge those nightmares then. Maybe I can suck more,” Metzli gave Nadia a warm smile and looked her in the eyes. “Listen, I know you’re not interested at all, and that makes me uninterested anyway. But uh…if you need some company, I’d be happy to be around. Got nothing to do all night and I don’t sleep anyway.” They offered, shrugging her shoulders so Nadia knew it didn’t matter if she declined or not. “Just an idea.”

“Hey, how is a lowly, uneducated empath supposed to know what qualifies as undead or not? I don’t know if you people have heartbeats or eat cereal or sleep in coffins,” Nadia said. She was enjoying this. Somehow, she always seemed to get into bantering conversations with people that she couldn’t feel while she was in a cemetery. Two things couldn’t really be called a pattern, but it was really fucking weird that it happened twice. “I don’t even have blood anymore. Just caffeine and tequila.”

For someone that claimed to not have a soul, Metzli was kind. Or, at least to Nadia, it seemed like they were trying to be. “You wanna be my sleep support vampire?” she asked, eyebrow raised. She… didn’t know if she wanted that. She remembered when Regan had offered to make sure she didn’t sleep walk, how disastrous that had been, and she didn’t really know Metzli. They were nice, but she didn’t know them. “I’m probably really boring to watch sleep. Or, like, really depressing. Unless you enjoy, uh, night terrors. But I could always use company. Keeps shit from getting lonely. Makes it easier to stay awake.”

Metzli was enjoying Nadia’s company. Having people around proved to be better than they thought. Never had they met so many people that they actually connected with. They just never took the time. Connecting always seemed so minuscule, so useless. After a century spent in solitude, they were finally beginning to understand why people intermingled. “Sleeping in coffins is such a gross stereotype. I don’t even sleep!” They laughed, the sound echoing through the cemetery. Ghosts turned to acknowledge the source of the sound before continuing with their monotonous tasks. “Ooh, I do like a little tequila with my blood. Makes for a great time.”

The space between the two grew smaller as a hand patted Nadia’s leg momentarily. “Nah, this would be a straight up job. And I wouldn’t watch you sleep. More like, I play video games and you just sleep. And in return, maybe I can take a bite, get a buzz from your blood?” Metzli raised an eyebrow, curious to what her answer would be. “Of course, that is a pretty steep payment, so I could settle for something easier. Like I said, just trying to find an ethical resource, and what’s more ethical than consent from the source?” They shrugged, trying to downplay the seriousness of their offer. “Or if you know anyone, I’d love to get my hands on some human blood of some kind. Bagged or not. Just trying to make conscious choices.”

“Like I said, how’s a poor, uneducated empath supposed to know?” Nadia asked. “Maybe you guys hang out in coffins. Again, no idea. My vampire knowledge is horribly literary instead of actual.” More things that should be disturbing, that would be disturbing if the young woman that she’d been years ago still existed, was how comfortable she was around people that she blatantly knew could kill her. And here she was, trusting that they wouldn’t. How stupid was she to trust someone that had already revealed to her that they were soulless? Pretty fucking stupid. “It’s quality tequila. I’ve developed a taste for the finer stuff, lately.” She blamed working at the Artesian. It was better than blaming the ghost with expensive tastes.

“Ah, a job.” And if that kind of self-serving mentality was what made Metzli soulless, then Nadia could understand it. That wasn’t soullessness. It was pragmatism. “You want me to give you blood in exchange for sleep?” She thought about it. Really, was it any worse than chaining herself to her bed at night or passing out at the kitchen table? At least, this way, she could be sure that she wouldn’t pull her arm out of its socket or walk out into oncoming traffic. “How much, exactly, are we talking? And I wouldn’t ask you to do this every night. Sometimes I have plans at night, anyway, and I really don’t mind the whole not sleeping thing. But, uh, how much are we talking?”

“May need to give you some research homework if we’re gonna be friends,” Metzli chided half-heartedly. For most vampires, this innate trust Nadia was having was dangerous. And if the two of them had met a few weeks ago, Metzli would have surely taken her down with no problem. There would have been no friendly conversation, there would have been no exchange in names. But here the two were, seeking escape in their own respective ways, laughing. Even discussing services and charges.

Metzli’s eyes widened in surprise at Nadia’s response. They stammered, tripping over their words before settling on saying something, anything. “Whoa, whoa, really?” Hiding their surprise was pointless. “I guess in exchange for a night’s sleep, half a pint would be enough. If I do this for 3 days or more, we can just settle for a once a week deal. It’ll keep me fed and you wouldn’t have to deal with too much biting. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up liking it.” A mischievous smile laced their lips, a stark contrast from their earlier surprise. “And you’ll probably get a good night’s rest when I do feed. You’ll be so loopy that you just pass out.”

“Hey, I’ve read all the classics. It’s not my fault they’re wrong,” Nadia said. But she was actually interested in this, in learning more about supernaturals. Research had always been Nadia’s favorite part of college. She’d just wanted to learn. She’d just wanted to read books and write papers and learn. And if she got to learn about something real that she’d always thought to be fiction? Then she wanted to learn even more.

“I mean, why not?” Nadia shrugged. It was interesting to see Metzli stammer when they’d been so composed previously. “You want ethically sourced blood. I’m well aware that I’m, like, constantly on the verge of having a really bad time because of sleep deprivation, and I’m willing to look for solutions wherever I can. The idea of just passing out sounds really fucking nice. If I can get away with not being woken up by nightmares, then I’ll take it.”

When Nadia agreed, it was hard to contain their absolute shock. She had actually agreed. Metzli had greatly underestimated their new friend. Two birds, one stone. “There are plenty of reasons why not, but I don’t want this deal to go sour.” They said, a giant grin on their face. “When do you want to start? And where?” Licking their lips, their fingers twitched in anticipation. With a fresh meal right in front of them, their body vibrated and their mouth watered. No control would be lost, but the instincts were dutifully acknowledged.

“You can always back out. And when you invite me into your home, you can always rescind the invitation,” Metzli explained, using the tactic of transparency to make Nadia feel safe, like she had control. In this case, she very much did. “Alternatively, you could sleep at my place some nights when you get comfortable enough. My gaming setup is the best there, but I can make due with my Switch.”

This was probably the stupidest fucking thing that Nadia had ever agreed to. Like, just really fucking dumb. But it was just a little blood. She could stand to lose a little blood every now and then. “You’re right, totally a fuck ton of reasons not to do this. But, like, I’m a shit decision maker. I’m curious to learn more about vampires, and I’m curious to see if this works. I get knowledge and possibly sleep, and you get your ethically sourced meal.”

Nadia considered it. She hadn’t slept much the night before. Barely at all. She rolled up her sleeve and looked around. It was an empty cemetery, save for the ghosts. One that she recognized as Eunice, Nadia’s unaccustomed eyes managing to pick up on a few things, seemed to be moving about anxiously, fretting. Eunice was a fretter, Nadia had learned. She held out her wrist. “No time like the present. If this gets too much, then we’ll stop, but. Might well just fucking do it.” She paused, frowning, “And what’s a Switch?”

Metzli arched a brow at Nadia, watching her roll up her sleeve and look around the cemetery. She really did make horrible decisions. Though, they did give her a few chances to change her mind. If she said yes, then she was good to go, and they didn’t hesitate any further. Sweet, sweet liquid copper was calling to them, and there was not going to be a struggle. There was not going to be anything inherently wrong about this.

“A Nintendo Switch. It’s a console. One I can take around. Gotta have something to do late at night that isn’t painting, you know? I own a gallery, so art is my whole job.” Metzli said, gently wrapping their right hand on Nadia’s forearm and cupping the other with their left. Exposing her wrist to them, red eyes began to glow in the night, and canines extended into fangs. It was a smooth transition, calm and serene.

“Take deep breaths, and let me know if you start getting sick. Half a pint shouldn’t take more than ten seconds.” Slowly, Metzli’s teeth inched closer to Nadia’s wrist, giving her more time to breathe. As gently as they could, they sunk their teeth into her skin, sapping the energy from her, and savoring every gulp.

It was one thing for Nadia to be told that Metzli was a vampire, but it was another thing to see their fangs, to watch their eyes glow red in the darkness. One of the ghosts came in closer to their bench. “It’s fine, Eunice,” Nadia said, hoping that she was talking to the right ghost. “I’m not caught up on gaming consoles from the last few years. Totally had a DS in high school, though.”

Nadia took a deep breath and counted to ten as soon as she felt needling like teeth pinch into her skin. It hurt, but it wasn’t anything like some of the pain that she’d experienced. It wasn’t like getting shot by an invisible bullet or a knife or an exorcism. When ten seconds were up, she asked, her voice cracking before she cleared it. “You’re-- You own an art gallery? That’s kind of cool.”

With a huff, Metzli released Nadia’s arm and applied pressure to her fresh wound. They saw the ghosts hovering around them, but didn’t acknowledge them like she did. Non-corporeal beings weren’t ones they often mingled with. “That was incredibly satisfying. Are you feeling loopy at all?” They asked, still applying pressure to Nadia’s arm. “And yes, I do. You can come by any time. It’s called Crest Works Art.”

Their eyes and teeth were still shifted, but were gone with a blink of an eye. Silence fell between them, the only sound in Metzli’s ears were the ghosts and Nadia’s unsteady heartbeat. “I can carry you to my place or yours. Supernatural strength has its perks,” they smiled, their whole face back to looking human.

“Not loopy, just--” Nadia tried to stand before promptly sitting back down, her head spinning. “Wow. Okay, maybe a little-- My fucking head, dude. Holy shit.” She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. “Glad to be of service. But cool. Cool, cool, cool. I dig art. The girl I-- The complicated relationship thing-- she’s an artist. I like art.” Maybe she was a little loopy.

“Oh, please. I’ve been stabbed with a fucking knife, I can totally walk.” But Nadia absolutely couldn’t walk. Not right at that second, at least. God, her fucking head. “I might need assistance for the walking thing. I am but frail and human. Or, like, a cookie. Isn’t that what people get after donating blood? Cookies? Doesn’t that help?” Would coffee help? She looked down at her cup. Probably not. It was empty, anyways. “You don’t know where I live, and I’m definitely not up for walking that far, so, like, take me to your art den. At the very least, if I don’t sleep, it might be wicked cool to see your stuff. If that’s okay.”

“Right, complicated relationship. Is she gonna be upset that you’re letting an extremely hot vampire drink your blood?” Metzli jested, helping Nadia up to her feet, and then smoothly maneuvering her into their arms. “I keep food stocked in my apartment just in case, and I believe I should have cookies.” The walk began, a slight breeze brushing through their hair. Nadia was definitely strong, they were even more sure of it after the stabbing comment.

“You’ll get to meet my cat, Yuca. You’ll also have to disregard the mini sofa I purchased for her to lay on next to my own couch.” They laughed, holding tightly to Nadia. It would take thirty minutes, but the two would get to Metzli’s apartment in no time at all.

“I hope not,” Nadia murmured, but the truth was that she didn’t know. And, really, there were probably a lot of people in her life that would be upset over the fact that she’d essentially offered herself up as a Capri Sun pouch for some maybe sleep and information from a century old vampire. “I think the vampire part might be more of a problem than the extremely hot part, if I’m being honest. No offense.” But she nodded her head at the mention of food. She was feeling… drained felt a little on the nose, but it was definitely the word she was looking for.

“You bought your cat a sofa?” Nadia asked, laughing. “Dude, that’s, like, so fucking sweet. Maybe you have a soul after all.” That drained feeling was starting to creep up like the way she felt when she knew she was about to pass out. She knew it was going to happen soon. The last thing Nadia remembered thinking about was the fact that she wanted to buy a cat sofa for Rhiannon, too.

[stetervault]

Hey, love the blog!!! I was wondering if you had any fics where Talia is terrible to Peter and/or Stiles? I know that's a lot of fics so maybe ones where it's a notable plot point? Thanks!

Here are some I know, with various levels of bad alpha/sister/all-around person!Talia (some have her redeemable, others not so much):

IBDC: Teen Wolf by moonstalker24 --> Pretend to be dating AU Part 1 & Part 2

Peter pretends to be Stiles' boyfriend, which quickly evolves into being his actual boyfriend.

The Sphinx of Beacon Hills by Guede (Stetopher)

Stiles is a sphinx, and he’s winging his way to visit his buddy Scott when a storm drops him in Beacon Hills, the craziest, crankiest, coldest place ever. And somehow, he ends up with a bunch of werewolves.

The Other Husband by Therapeutic_Steter

Tumblr Prompt: You start working with your spouse and everyone thinks you're cheating because they don't know that's your spouse.

Home by Ragga

Don't be like him, they would say, and then add, or else you get burned.

Unable to bear the whispers any longer, This One left. He forsook those who forsook him, left him bear his scars alone, the scars he bore for his herd. It was better to be alone, stay off the currents, than swim with those most undeserving of his loyalty. So mote it be.

That is, until he met That One.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

God Only Knows by katiemorag

Peter still couldn't quite believe he was being made to attend his niece's wedding, reason number one being that her fiancé was Peter's ex, who had cheated on Peter with Laura.

There's also the slight issue of his entire family refusing to believe that his boyfriend, Stiles, actually exists.

You Are so Much Better Than I Ever Knew Before by lavenderlotion

“Oh sweetheart,” Kate cooed, voice sickly sweet and obviously fake. “You didn’t think you were dating...did you?”

Stiles just stood there, still in shock and only coherent enough to shrug his shoulders. “Oh sweetie, that is just too cute. No, Der-Bear here just needed something to keep his cock warm while I was away visiting family.”

what the dust reveals by WindyRein

That one where Stiles and Peter are soulmates and there's spy-assassins and wings and other stuff.

You Just Got Ghosted! by Ragga

“What’s your name, angel?” little Stiles murmured even as his eyes fell closed, quickly losing his battle against sleep.

Stiles smiled. It was a little sad but also heavy with the knowledge that what he was doing was the right thing—heavy with the knowledge he didn’t deserve the moniker bestowed upon him.

“You can call me Mietek.”

Or the one where there's time travel, feels abound, two Stiles in one timeline, and one of them stuck somewhere between the planes of existence. Yet a ghost can still manage to save the day and get the girl. Or the wolf. Manly wolf. Because Peter.

Toothed Morality (Send Me Flowers) by rightsidethru

“The world is a dark place, moje kochanie; it is one filled with monsters, always ready to gobble you whole. Be wary of the promises they give: seal every vow with blood and bone and Name. A True Name, one that will bind them to their word.”

“But how will I know that they’re telling the truth, Matka? Couldn’t they lie…?”

“You’ll know, mały płomień.”

Send Newts by Bunnywest

The first thing Peter notices is that Talia’s smiling, and that in itself makes him suspicious. When he sees that Laura’s smiling too, his distrust intensifies. “What?” he demands? “What is it?” Talia’s smile widens as she serves him a cup of tea, made just how he likes it. “Just wondering if your new husband knows you’re such a curmudgeon in the mornings,” she says sweetly. Peter’s cup clatters against the table and the tea spreads in a puddle, ignored. “My what?” “New husband,” Laura chimes in, and then she’s wrapping her arms around Peter’s neck, and saying, “Thank you, Uncle Peter,” and hugging him tight, and the memory of last night tugs at him again. What happened again, exactly?

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

The Devil You Know by Triangulum

Hell is busy and Peter is understaffed. There are too many evil people being sent down below and there are only so many demons Peter has to torture them with. He needs to reorganize. They don't utilize group torture nearly as much as they should. Stiles probably has some ideas on that.

Or

Peter is King of Hell, Stiles is his second in command, and Talia summons them for a favor.

Call Me Mary Poppins by Triangulum (Stetopher)

Chris pinches the bridge of his nose and says, "You're telling me you want to fuck the nanny?"

"Don't be ridiculous, it's nothing as stereotypical as that, Christopher. This isn't porn. I want to seduce her," Peter says.

Or

A Stetopher nanny AU that wasn't really asked for.

Follow My Lead by Inell (Peter/Laura/Cora/Derek/Stiles)

Peter can’t quite figure out what’s so appealing about the young agent questioning them about his sister’s murder, but he does know that Agent Stilinski is more than he seems.

The Perceptions of You and I by lavenderlotion

“Baby, why did your secretary ask me if I was here under duress?”

Peter looks at him, blinks slowly, and then tilts his head to the side before asking, “She what?”

“She asked if you were forcing me to be here,” Stiles says, eyes flicking across the room to where said assistant is standing at the punch bowl. “She wanted to know if you were blackmailing me or threatening me.”

“She thinks you’re here under duress because Peter is such a terrifying bastard there’s no way a human Omega would be with him otherwise.”

Rent-a-Date by RebaK1tten

If Peter has to spend Christmas with his family, he's going to have a buffer. Even if he has to get him off a website.

Pissing Off The Straights by Therapeutic_Steter

platypusesrneat asked: Peter's family is alive, rich, and complete assholes. Peter can't stand them and is trying to get out of going to their stupid party. Cue Stiles saving the day!

Prayers to a Lesser God by Green

When the Hales are trapped in a house fire, Peter prays to every deity he's ever read about. Miraculously, one answers his call.

this (let's remember) by sinequanon

Peter has always done his pack's dirty work, but it's not until his sister locks him away in Eichen House that he realizes that he has other priorities.

OR

A Romeo and Juliet type story featuring less suicide and more murder.

Don't Come For His Family by lavenderlotion

In the three years Stiles had been with Peter, the man had only talked about his family a handful of times - and as far as Stiles knew had never once spoken to them. So he wasn’t exactly excited to see the mans family, even though that’s exactly what they were about to do.

It does not go to plan.

Beautiful Like Birds by Whispering_Sumire

"Stiles?" he asks, turning on the light, and Stiles looks at him- eyes wide, a flicker of utter devotion and heartbreaking joy passing his features before his whole face crumples and-

"Daddy?"

John has never seen his son like this, or maybe he has, when Claudia died, but it's different somehow, more, and terrifying because he has no idea why. He's closed half the distance between them before he even has time to think it through, but it doesn't matter because Stiles has bridged the rest and flung himself into John's arms.

He falls apart like that, holding onto John so tightly that it's hard to breathe, but he can't care about that right now because his son is sobbing and chanting "Daddy," desperately into his shoulder.

[Or, the one where Stiles goes back in time to save the world, and surprisingly, survives to tell the tale.]

We Three Can Rule The World by Whispering_Sumire (Steterek)

"Hello," he says softly, setting his fiddle down in his lap, not bothering to stand.

"Hi," Derek replies, half-gruff, then, because he should, "that was- that was beautiful but... you know this is private property, right?"

The boy throws his head back and laughs, and laughs, and laughs. The sound of it is overwhelming in its childish joy, and his eyes positively sparkle when they land on Derek again.

"Yes," he says, unashamed "I knew." Then he's standing, fiddle and bow in one hand, the other stretched out toward Derek, friendly and welcoming, "My name is Stiles."

[Or: The one where there's a fiddler, and two werewolves whose eyes flash blue, and a whole fucking world to conquer.]

The Alpha Thief by Triangulum

Something changes around the time Peter turns thirty. His wolf becomes malcontent and angry. His control, impeccable since he was a child, starts to slip, that inner rage leaking out. Talia's iron clad control over the pack chafes him. He can't explain why, but it feels like his world shifts. Pack members he's grown up with suddenly leave with barely an explanation, without a goodbye. His parents' deaths, something that occurred over five years ago, suddenly feel raw, everything after their passing he remembers feeling stilted and wrong.

Or

What if Malia's existence wasn't the memory Talia took from Peter? And what if memories weren't the only thing she stole?

[justimagineitblog]

“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 10

A/N: Alright this one broke and mended my heart all at once while I was writing it - goddamn these characters hahahahaha. 

WARNINGS: Swearing, Violence, Guns, Death, Alcohol - 

I know I’ve used swear words in previous chapters but this one is quite heavily riddled with it, I also thought I’d warn that there are mentions of death in this one my loves - it’s nothing too full on and I don’t go into heavy descriptions but I just felt like this one needed a warning just incase x

As always, please enjoy xx 

As the alarm goes off, Charlie and I both jolt awake in bed. It only takes a few moments to realise that it’s almost half an hour past when we were supposed to be up.

“Fuck!” He shouts as he jumps out of the bed, ripping the sheets back. He’s going on a work trip this weekend with his brother, and if the time on the clock is correct, then the car should be pulling up any moment. 

I tear myself out of the bed after him, frantically running around with him to help him get ready. 

“Charlie your suit case is in here!” I call as I hear him fumbling around my apartment for his luggage. He runs back into the room, tearing through the cupboards for his suit. 

He strips naked right in front of me, and I can’t help but laugh at how much of a mess this is as I try and help him get his suit on. 

“He’s gonna kill me if I’m late” he stresses, his hands desperately trying to do up his buttons but he fails. This is a big weekend for their business. If he’s late or messes his up, I know how horrible he will feel about it for a long time. 

“Hey, just breathe okay, let me do this” I coo, swatting his hands away as I do his buttons up for him. 

He nods, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath. Once his shirt is buttoned up he takes off again, scurrying around gathering all his paper work, luggage and some how wriggling his shoes on. We both jump in fright as the beeping of a horn below signals that his car is here. 

Swearing repeatedly, he runs to the door, but freezes right before he walks out. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he breathes, turning back to me with a shaking his head.

“Stop, it’s okay” I promise him, my hands on his chest as I straighten his tie and jacket “You’re gonna be amazing” 

With a relieved smile, he presses his lips against mine. I hold his face, trying to soak up as much of him as I can. 

“I’ll miss you, don’t get in any trouble while I’m gone eh?”

“Me?” I furrow my brows “I have no idea what you’re talking about” 

He laughs, pulling me in for another kiss. 

“Okay, okay you have to go” I chuckle as the car horn continues to beep downstairs. He gives me a few last pecks and before I know it he’s gone, running down the hallway, leaving me flustered in his wake. 

I run over to the window, watching as he gets in the car and gives me one last wave. I return the gesture, blowing him a kiss that he pretends to catch as the car pulls away and disappears from my sight. 

Slinking back through my apartment I collapse lazily back into my bed, arms and legs flailed in every direction as I fall back asleep. 

LATER THAT AFTERNOON

“Hello?”

“Hi you” 

I smile as Charlie’s voice speaks like honey through the phone line. 

“Miss me already?” I tease.

“Most definitely” he replies, when suddenly the sound of excitement and hollering fills the phone.

“The deal went well then?” I chuckle at his excitement.  

“The deal went… incredibly,” he begins, trying to speak over the mens in the background “Actually, we made an ever bigger deal than we originally planned on… they want to financially support the entire business, Izzy”

“Oh my god, Charlie, that’s amazing!” I exclaim 

“I was gonna wait to tell you when I got home but… Izzy I think we’re going to move up here” 

My jaw drops as I press the phone closer to my ear to make sure I heard him right. When I don��t reply, he begins to fill in the blanks eagerly. 

“They want us to move up here Izzy, they want to support us and the whole business-“

The weight of what he’s actually saying begins to wash over me as a million questions leap and bound through my mind. 

“Charlie-“ I stutter “You’ve been there for 5 hours” I blurt out, glancing at the clock. 5 hours. That’s barely enough time to decide you want to move 3 hours away. Permanently. 

“I know, I know, but we just made the biggest deal of our lives… I’ve gotta follow this Izzy”

“Oh my god” I breathe, trying to sound excited but doing an absolutely horrid job of hiding my shock. 

“That’s not why I wanted to call you though, I think I have a proposition for you” I hold my breath. So far, I couldn’t have predicted this conversation even if I tried. I have no idea what is about to come out of his mouth.

“Well you see, I told him I wasn’t moving up here unless they set us up with a proper home because…” He takes a deep breath before blurting out his next words “I want you to come with me, Izzy” 

The second the words leave his mouth I freeze. Go with him. Did he just ask me to move away with him? Move three hours away? Away from my home. The place I grew up. Away from my job. Away from the Shelby’s. 

“Izzy? Izzy are you there? What do you think?” I hear his muffled voice asking through the phone as I snap back into reality. Heat rises up my neck and over my face as I fumble for my words. 

“What do I think?” I echo his words. I don’t know what I think. Actually, I’m thinking way to much.

“I know it’s a lot. You don’t have to pack your bags right now. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home” 

Pack my bags?

My breath quickens as do my racing thoughts and heart rate. 

“Okay, I have to go!” he rushes quickly as the shouting and hollering behind him gets louder, urging him to go and join the celebrations. 

And just like that, the phone line goes silent. I stand in the lurch for minute after minute trying to digest what just happened. I fumble for a chair,  trying to steady myself as I sit down. The whole conversation was such a rush and a whirlwind that I feel physically light headed. 

We’ve only been together for a month. 

But if I don’t move away with him, is that the end of us? We would hardly be able to visit one another during the week. And even weekends aren’t always free. Between both of our work schedules, how would we ever make time. Three hours away. That’s no short trip. If anything happened back here, I wouldn’t be able to get back in a hurry. What if Tommy got into trouble? And Arthur? What if Polly needed me? And then the most regretful, dreaded thought crosses my mind. What about Michael? 

I feel physically ill. I can’t move. I can’t do this. The phone that’s rested in my lap begins to ring obnoxiously, frightening me so badly I almost throw it clean across the room. Maybe I should. Maybe I should break the goddamn thing. 

“Shit” I hiss, running a hand through my hair as my heart pounds so hard it feels like it might just jump straight out of my chest. 

I yank the phone towards my ear, completely exhausted and flustered. 

“Izzy? Darling it’s Polly” 

I sigh, trying to calm myself down enough to sound somewhat normal and coherent.

“Hi Poll, what’s up?”

“Look don’t panic, we just need you to come down here okay”

The tight nervousness of her voice snaps me straight out of my cloudy, foggy state.

“Polly what’s going on?” I reply urgently, standing up from my chair in a panic.

“It’s alright. Just come down to the office okay? We’ve got a client here and-” she pauses as voices in the background get louder and I strain desperately to hear who is there “We just need you to go over some things”

“I’m coming now” I hang up the phone immediately. 

Something isn’t right. 

I race out the door without my coat, my hand bag, anything. I don’t even bother trying to be subtle as I run through the streets, tearing my way through people and around corners until I see the office ahead. As I get closer the fear in the pit of my stomach grows bigger and bigger. 

Polly never sounds like that. What the hell is going on. What am I about to find inside. 

The sound of sudden shouting from inside sends a crashing wave of fear and adrenaline through me as I burst into the office through the back door. What I find when I walk in sends my stomach into back flips. I freeze, almost tripping over my own feet from stopping to abruptly. 

All heads shoot towards me. Tommy, Arthur, Polly and Michael. They look terrified, there eyes wide with panic as they’re stood at the edges of the room, their backs practically up against the walls. And it doesn’t take me long to figure out why. My eye’s immediately fall over a man stood in the middle of the room. 

He’s standing amidst the office desks which have been flipped and smashed all over the floor. Paper is thrown everywhere. I would call him a stranger, but he’s not. I know this man. We all know this man. He is a client. Bill Rodgers. 

I have seen him a few times. Met with him. Met his wife and children. He pays donations to us once a month, in return, we look after his family if they ever need anything. A simple agreement. We do that for a lot of families around here. He’s never been overly warm. But friendly enough. And I don’t know him incredibly well. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realise there is something wrong. Besides the fact that the office is a mess. With chairs, desks and tables scattered across the room. Paper work everywhere. Bill stands in the middle of it all. 

His doing I assume. 

And he is completely wasted. I can smell it on him. All the way from the door way, my nose catches the distinct smell of whiskey. It almost fills the room. You have to drink bottles of whiskey, or spend days on end inside of a pub to smell like that. Even the way he stands, head to the floor, grumbling, swaying. Muttering to himself. But that’s not even the most concerning thing. No. The most concerning thing about Mr Rodgers is not his drunken stupor. 

But the pistol that he is clutching in his hand. 

I swallow hard when I see it. I glance to the floor, where I realise they have placed all of their guns. 

He must have demanded them to drop their guns. 

What I cannot figure out, about Bill, is what the hell he wants. He has never caused any trouble. Never gotten in trouble with the law. Never betrayed us. What the hell is doing here in a drunken rage with a gun?

“Bill,” Tommy begins, his arms outstretched to him “This is Isabelle” 

I glance nervously at Tommy as he signals for me to come over to stand beside him. I rush over to his side, and he steps in front of me ever so slightly.  Bill looks up at me gravely, through the disheveled hair falling in his face.  I try to hold his eyes, staying calm and gentle. In his state, anything could set him off. 

“And what is she gonna do about it huh?” He growls “They’re dead Tommy” 

“Bill-“

“No, Tommy” he shouts “I pay you donations every month, yeah, and you look after my family in return. BUT THEY’RE GONE! THEY’RE GONE TOMMY!” His voice grows louder as he waves his arms in the air, and we all take a few steps back as we watch the pistol in his clutch nervously. 

Tommy opens his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. 

“Bill,” I say gently and he shoots his eyes in my direction “Just tell me what happened, and I can help you. Whatever you need. But I have to know how to help you first”

He stares at me, reluctantly, angrily, before something seems to give. 

“They’re dead” He breathes “Sarah, and my boys. I was out, and the house was robbed. They stole everything and killed my fucking family” 

My heart drops. He lost his family. All of them. This man is hurting. He is in pain.  We are supposed to provide protection. His house being robbed is something none of us could have prevented, or helped, but he has just lost his entire family, and he’s looking for someone to blame. 

I can’t believe my own actions when I find myself walking slowly towards him. I feel everyone in the room tense, as I do. This man may normally be harmless, but right now he is intoxicated and armed. And I’m walking straight into it. 

“Izzy, don’t” I hear Tommy’s voice hiss so silently I almost miss it. But I ignore him. 

“Bill, we can help you okay” I take another slow, weary step towards him treading so lightly I barely make a sound “We can find the men who did this, but I just need you to put your gun down for me”

He sways, seeming to lose his stability. The whiskey coursing through him right now must be making him see double. 

Suddenly he bursts into sobs, and I almost jump out of my skin. He sinks to the floor, falling among the debris in a pile of sobs and cries. 

Keeping my eyes firmly glued on the gun, I lower myself to his level. 

“No one can help me” he whimpers in between cries. 

“We can help you, I promise” I breathe, the stench of whiskey slapping me in the face and burning my nostrils as I shuffle closer and closer. I’m only inches away from him. Close enough to reach out and take the gun from his lose grip. With one head in his hands, and the other hanging by his side, he’s so distraught I don’t even think he would notice. 

I hear feet shuffling around me, as they all begin to reach for their guns just incase. 

I hold my breath, praying over and over again silently to myself as I extend my arm. My hand shaking as I close in on the pistol. 

But the second my skin touches his, my hand brushing the pistol ever so slightly as I almost grab a hold of it, it sets him off like a match igniting a bomb.  His giant stature lurches upwards as he roars with rage. Happening all to fast for me to comprehend, or even try to escape, he shoves me with a brute force that I’ve never felt before. He pummels me, bashing me up against the wall, the back of my head colliding with it so loudly against it that I think I black out momentarily as everything goes white. My ears, are ringing, piercing and loud and I only just begin to comprehend what’s happening when I feel his hands around my throat. 

His forehead is pressed roughly against mine, his thick breath hot and drenched in pungent alcohol as his chest rises and falls heavily. I grab at his hands, clawing desperately to try and pry them off as his grip tightens. He shakes me like a rag doll, shoving me so harshly into the wall that I’m just waiting for it to give way. He stares at me with rage, with ferocity that I have never seen before. Frozen, paralysed in fear, all I can do is stare back into them. 

The sound of gun chambers cocking all around us catches his attention, and suddenly I’m being pulled away from the wall. He spins me around, and the blow to my head as well as lack of oxygen disorients me completely. It’s not until I feel the burning of cold metal against my temple that I come back to my senses. Bill is stood behind me, one arm around my chest to keep me still, my back pressed against him. The other hand, is pressing the barrel of his pistol against the side of my skull. 

I stiffen immediately, not even breathing as he faces me towards the Tommy, Arthur, Polly and Michael, who all have their guns aimed at him. 

“PUT THE FUCKING GUNS DOWN OR I’LL BLOW HER BRAINS OUT ALL OVER THESE WALLS” He screams at them, his booming voice almost defeating me in one ear as he presses the pistol harder against my head. 

Tommy, Polly and Arthur drops their guns to the floor immediately. 

But Michael doesn’t budge. 

Our eyes lock, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so terrified. He is completely pale, all the blood drained from his face as he aims the gun at Bill’s head. 

“Just put the gun down” I whimper, and he shakes his head frantically, refusing to. 

“Let go of her” he growls through clenched teeth, his voice cracking and shaking.

My ears prick as Bill cocks the gun, the chamber clicking.

“An eye for an eye huh,” Bill breathes, beginning to sob again “I fucking kill her and then we’re even for you not protecting my fucking boys”  

“Bill let her go” Tommy warms, holding his arms out to him “We are going to find the men that did this and when we do, they are going to get what they deserve. But this…” she shakes his head “This isn’t the answer”

My eyes dart from Tommy back to Michael, who has not moved an inch, gun still aimed. 

“I TOLD YOU TO PUT THAT FUCKING GUN DOWN” Bill shouts at Michael, completely ignoring Tommy’s words. 

“Michael” I plead desperately, dread washing over me so heavily that I feel ill. I watch as he shakes his head, refusing. His wide open, panic strike eyes have turned glassy, and I can feel tears stinging and biting at my own eyes.  

“It’s okay,” I breathe, giving him the smallest nod I can manage with the pistol against my head “Just put it down” 

His eyes flicker between me and Bill, and I have to fight to not release a harsh exhale of relief as he lowers his gun to the ground. 

“There you go Bill, all the guns are down, now let us talk to you eh?” Tommy negotiates, trying to sound as calm and gentle as he can. But I can see his palpating jaw. His tense body. The veins in his neck bulging from holding his breath. He is the furthest thing from calm. 

For a moment I feel Bill’s grip loosen, and in my peripheral I can see the pistol fall away from my head as his arms falls to his side. 

He’s letting his guard down. 

I shut my eyes, taking a shaky breath in through my nose. 

“You’re going to find them” he growls his orders at Tommy “And when you find them, I’m going to kill them” 

“Bill…” Tommy shakes his head, trying to be as polite as possible “Bill I can’t let you do that. If you kill them, they’ll only send you to jail… just let us take care of it-“

“TAKE CARE OF IT!” He screams, and I can’t help a whimper from escaping my mouth “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TAKE CARE OF MY FAMILY. BUT YOU DIDN’T-“

Tommy opens his mouth, to try and say anything that will calm him, appease him. But once bill has been set off, there is no taming the fire that is his rage. I should have known. There is no reasoning with a drunk man. 

With a grieving man. 

“No, no, this is your fault” I feel him nodding his head behind me as he points the gun at all of them “This is your fault, and you’re the ones who are going to fucking pay. YOU’RE ALL GOING TO FUCKING PAY”

His cry is the one of a final war cry, and I know what’s coming next. 

The next moments of my life feel like they are in slow motion. Suddenly the barrel of the gun is pressed straight up against my head again as he shoves it against my temple. The last thing I see is Tommy, Polly, and Arthur lunging forward, all shouting and begging for Bill to stop before it’s to late. 

This is it.  This is the last thing I’m going to hear.  The last thing I’m going to feel is the end of a pistol pressed again my skull, before I feel nothing at all. Please let it be painless. 

A single gun shot fires into the atmosphere. 

I expect nothingness. More black. Maybe heaven. Or hell. Though I’m not ever sure if I believed in God. 

But I feel myself breathing, my chest still rising and falling. I hadn’t even realised I had squeezed my eyes shut when they shoot open to find myself still in the office. 

I’m alive.

The first thing I see is Michael. His gun aimed not at me, but at where Bill had been standing.

It wasn’t Bill’s gun that fired. It was Michael’s. 

Bill is dead.

Everything washes over me all at once. Relief. Horror. Fear. Adrenaline. My head is pounding, and entire body feels like I’m floating. Completely weak and empty. Not strong enough to stand, and having lost all feeling in my body, I feel myself collapsing to the floor. 

Right before I hit the ground, I find myself falling right into a pair of arms. All noise is muffled, and I feel completely numb as I almost completely pass out for a moment. The only thing I can hear is the throbbing and pounding of my head. It’s not until I come back around moments later that I realise whose arms I’m in. 

They’re familiar arms. Strong. Firm. I’ve felt this exact grip before. They way the seem to hold me together. I thought I had forgotten how they felt. But I still know them anywhere. 

Michael. 

He scoops me up with desperation, and I don’t know who is clinging on to who as he holds onto me like its his life that depends on it. The only thing stopping me from crashing to the floor is him. His arms has envelope me completely, engulfing me in like a safety net. Wrapping me up in a way that I’ve only ever experienced with Michael. 

My body and mind still completely disoriented, I find myself only being able to cry. That’s the only thing that comes out. With my face buried in his chest, he holds the back of my head, pressing me so close to him I can barely even breath. But I don’t care. I’m alive. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you” He chants frantically against my ear, and I can’t tell who he is trying to calm down more. Me or himself. 

Beneath his chest, I can hear his heart racing. It pounds loudly against my ear. His grip on me never lets up, he doesn’t budge whatsoever. He just holds me. Let’s me sob, staining through his shirt. Everything else fades out. Everything seems to go away. Not just Bill’s attack. It’s like the last few months haven’t even happened. Nothing else matters right now except for the fact that I’m in his arms. 

I feel a pair of trembling hands on my face and when I look up I find my eyes opening into Michael’s. His eyes are wide, panic filled and pooling with tears. As we stare at one another, it’s almost like he can’t quite believe I’m in his arms right now. Even though it’s over now, he still has residue terror all over his face. I know he thought that he was about to lose me for good. Forever. 

Up until now I’ve barely been able to take a full breath or even begin to stop hyperventilating. But something about the hold his eyes have on me begins to centre me. I feel myself being grounded. Like I’m coming back to my surroundings. Those serene blue eyes give me something to anchor to as the panic slowly but surely leaves my system. 

Without even meaning to we find our foreheads pressed to each others, his grip on my face still firm. 

“Look at me” his voice is barely a whisper, as it shakes, threatening to break completely “You’re safe”

Pulling me back into a hug, he grips onto me so tightly as if I’m going to disappear if he doesn’t. And I don’t want him to let go, because I feel like I might just break and crumble if I don’t have him holding all my pieces together.

TAGLIST 

@shadow-of-wonder

@marvelismylifffe

@saintd0lce

@haphazardhufflepuff

@peaky-things

@burnitup

@swweett-insanityyy​

@ganjeolhiddaeng​

@thoughtfulfreakalpaca

@infinitelycharmed23

@chloeforde

@ashtronomyyyy

@livingforbarnes

@cleverdreamerhoagiewolf

@elleclairez

@marvelschriss

@carezzesuigraffi

@l0tsofpennies

@siliethkaijuy

@ineedabifriend

@bloodorangemoonlight

@maiabiovillage

@yoheyyosup

@hinagiku0

@beth-winchester21

@soleil-dor

@baker151910

@cherrytop02

[fanfic-corner]

Darling, So It Goes

Happy holidays, @slothbaby424! I may not have had as much time as I would like to have had to work on your @destielsecretsanta2020 fic, but I hope you enjoy it anyway (so sorry but it has not been proofread. At all). And a big thank you to @exmintha for the idea when I was struggling!

Again, here’s the playlist. It’s not necessary, but I like listening to music while writing and it’s got a load of Christmas bops on as well!

And, here’s the fic! It is 4639 words, and here’s the link on AO3 if you prefer.

{o0o}

“Pretty please?”

Dean huffed in annoyance, shifting from foot to foot. He really didn’t want to spend a day being pestered by demanding young children and their parents, but when Donna asked like that… well, he wasn’t a monster. “Fine. But if anyone gets any kind of bodily fluid on me, I am out.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, sweetheart,” she replied, grinning wildly, and Dean had to smile back. And so, that was how Dean Winchester found himself decked out in the full Santa outfit - beard and hat included - for the Wayward Sister’s Christmas party. 

Ever since they had set up the girl’s home, Jody and Donna had insisted on a big Christmas party. The first year, it was just a way to entertain the kids for the day, but since then it had evolved into an affair of epic standards. Practically the whole of Sioux Falls would show up at one point or another, usually with presents in tow. One year, Jody had confessed to Dean that they probably wouldn’t have been able to keep going without the support they got at Christmas.

To start with, Dean was not a good Santa. There were so many children that he had to keep track of, and who all wanted something and asked awkward questions that he didn’t have the answer to, and the hat was itchy and he could hardly see past the beard. By the time lunch rolled around, however, he had gotten into the swing of things, and was actually starting to enjoy himself.

That was when a stranger dumped a litre of chocolate milk over a guest’s head.

{o0o}

Castiel had been very grateful to get an invitation to a Christmas party, especially one from the people who had helped him adopt his son. He had learnt the hard way that society really doesn’t like gay people adopting kids, even if they were single.

Two hours after arriving, however, he was starting to have second thoughts. There were way more people than he expected and he had never been what someone might call a ‘social butterfly’. More like an ‘anti-social slug’, as Gabriel had once called him. The food was nice, but as it turned out, not all the people were.

“So, where’s your wife? Leave you with the kids, did she?” a man - Zachariah, Castiel thought his name was - said, punching him in the arm slightly harder than necessary.

“Oh, no, I enjoy doing things with Jack. And I’m not married.” 

Zachariah looked Castiel up and down, and let out an interesting noise. He supposed it was probably meant to resemble disbelief, but to him, it sounded like an elephant stomping on a whoopee cushion. “Divorced, are you?”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. Did this man realise he was asking wildly inappropriate questions? He had half a mind to say ‘widowed’ just to see his reaction, but he didn’t dare. “No, I’m not.”

Zachariah seemed mildly uneasy at that, as if he wasn’t sure what other options there were left. “Well, I’m sure a nice lady will come along soon.”

“Actually, I’m gay,” Castiel corrected. So what if it wasn’t 100% true? In his opinion, this idiot deserved to be made as uncomfortable as possible.

Zachariah’s reaction was a little more… extreme than he was expecting. And, by extreme, what Castiel meant was that the man seemed to go through several stages - disbelief, at first, then confusion, and then his posture turned rigid and his face started turning a deeper and deeper shade of tomato red - before completely exploding into some kind of homophobic rage.

Castiel wasn’t even listening to the man ranting, just picking up words like ‘Jesus’ and ‘disgusting’ and more slurs than he could count. He was more concerned by all the children nearby who could hear the garbage this man was spouting, and he needed a way to quickly shut him up.

So, he took the obvious route, and poured the entire carton of chocolate milk that he had got for Jack over his bald head.

{o0o}

Dean felt, as Santa, he should probably go and sort out whatever argument the two morons were having that led to the waste of a perfectly good drink. He had been concerned about kids getting some kind of gunk on him, but apparently adults were equally messy.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Dean asked, standing slightly in between them even though he couldn’t imagine either of them starting a fist fight. The guy covered in milk looked furious, but he was the kind of jerk who wouldn’t want his suit to get any messier than it already was, and the other dude looked like he was in some kind of shock.

“This- This queer just assaulted me!” Suit Man shouted, and Dean suddenly and rather desperately hoped that that chocolate milk was never coming out.

“Excuse me?” he asked, not entirely sure how to respond to that.

“It’s disgusting. They shouldn’t be able to raise a child in that lifestyle. It’s appal-”

“Shut up,” Dean said, rather forcefully and uncomfortably aware of the entire room’s eyes on him.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I said, shut up. What is really disgusting here is your behaviour. You think it is okay to be horrible to another human being just because of who he loves? Now that is bad parenting.” 

If anyone asked him later, Dean would say that he was fuming. That his anger was clouding his judgement. That this dude was being an asshole at Christmas in front of kids. Maybe that’s why his brain spotted the teachable moment - no one argued with fucking Father Christmas - and leaned down, slowly pulling the other man towards him and kissing him gently.

To be honest, Dean was sure that he would pull away. In fact, he gave the stranger plenty of time to do so. But instead, he kissed back. Maybe he was in shock. Maybe he also saw what Dean was doing. But they kissed, and Dean knew, somehow, that it was the beginning.

{o0o}

Castiel went to that stupid party because he thought it would be a good way to entertain Jack for the afternoon, and instead left feeling simultaneously embarrassed, with the bonus of a random man’s number. Who he had kissed. In front of a room full of people.

To his continued surprise (although Castiel thought that perhaps there was a limit on how many surprises he could process in one day), the man - Dean, he said his name was, seemed genuinely interested in going on a date with him.

The Roadhouse didn’t look like a particularly romantic spot, but he was not backing out now.

“You must be Castiel.” A stern-looking woman looks him up and down before nodding in approval. “I’m Ellen. You better not hurt my boy,” she warned with a threatening smile, gesturing towards where Dean was sitting in a booth in the corner. He was clearly not reading the menu, his eyes glassy and unfocused, but he fiddled with it anyway, his leg restlessly bouncing under the table.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greeted as he sat down, hoping he was hiding his nerves as well as he thought he was. Remember, fake it ‘til you make it, Meg’s voice reminded him. She had been so excited when he called her about his date, threatening him with unspeakable violence if he didn’t show up. Although, Meg could threaten unspeakable violence about anything. She once left the entirety of his cutlery drawer under Castiel’s duvet just because he forgot to feed her cat once.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean replied, grinning at him. Even though he was clearly nervous, he still seemed sincerely glad to see him, and it warmed his heart. “You don’t mind if I call ya that, right? Oh - before I forget, you should totally get the Elvis burger. It’s absolutely amazing.”

The meal went remarkably well, considering that Cas usually avoided dates like the plague. First dates were the worst - the annoyance of getting to know each other, and the inevitable awkwardness at the end - and he rarely saw anyone more than once. After a particularly bad night, which had ended with Meg having to come and pick him up from a park during a thunderstorm, Cas had sworn off dating. Yet, here he was, and he couldn’t deny he was enjoying himself.

Just as they had finished eating, two girls bounded up to the table. They clearly knew Dean somehow; one was skinny and blonde and Cas could swear that he could see a knife peeking out from her apron, and the other had flaming red hair and a t-shirt which proclaimed ‘the internet is broken, so I’m outside today’.

“Wanna decorate cookies with us?” they exclaimed at the same time, and before he could process what was happening, Cas had been dragged over to the kitchen where there was already a tray of perfect biscuits cooling on the counter.

The next half an hour was spent in a whirlwind of icing and sprinkles and sugar, and Cas loved every minute, although he really hoped that none of the cookies ended up being given to customers, because he had seen Jack make mud cakes more hygienic than this. Charlie sat in a corner on her phone, blasting Christmas music while focused on texting and taking pictures, whereas Jo was thoroughly entertaining herself by drawing inappropriate designs on her biscuits. Dean and Cas’ actually ended up looking okay, but neither of them were artists, so the cookies still looked like they had been decorated by a toddler.

When they were finished, they left Charlie and Jo to clean up and went back into the main area of the now empty restaurant. A new song came over the speakers, slow and enchanting, and Dean offered Cas a hand. “A dance before you go?”

Dancing with Dean, Cas decided, was magical. They swayed together, gradually getting closer and closer until their chests were pressed together and Cas’ head was resting on Dean’s shoulder. For a minute, Cas could forget everything but this moment. He allowed himself to simply be lost in the music and the warmth of Dean’s body, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat and feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

As the song ended, Dean carefully pulled apart just enough to lean down and join their lips in a tender kiss, and Cas thought that he could be in heaven.

But the kiss only got deeper and suddenly Cas’ mind flickered back online just in time to remind him what a ridiculous idea this was. Red flashing lights screamed and wailed and reminded him of what always happened, and the sudden warning jolted his body into action, pulling away from Dean in a panic.

Dean looked down at him with a lazy smile, only frowning when he realised something was wrong. “Cas? Wha- did I do something wrong?”

Cas was shaking his head and reversing all at once, all higher functioning processes having been thrown out of the window. He was babbling, apologising and saying it wasn’t Dean and all the while he knew he was on the edge of some kind of embarrassing meltdown, so in the end, he let his feet do the talking, and fled.

{o0o}

Dean didn’t think the fact he hadn’t left his house in two days had anything to do with the best date he had ever been on ending with the other dude running out on him, but apparently Charlie did. She had been pestering him all day, asking if he wanted to help her decorate for Christmas or go and get milkshakes or watch a film. No matter what she suggested, Dean always declined. He wasn’t feeling it, and if it had anything to do with the trenchcoat staring at him from across the room, he wasn’t going to admit it to anyone.

It wasn’t the first time someone had run out on him, of course, but usually that was on a particularly awkward date or if something bad had happened. He just couldn’t understand what had sent Cas running out of the Roadhouse like that, so panicstricken that he forgot his coat which he came with. Dean didn’t think he had read the situation that badly; in fact, he had been sure that the other man had been enjoying their date.

He sighed and pulled the pillow over his head, trying to ignore his phone as it pinged constantly. Yeah, it was probably Charlie spamming him, but there was always the chance it could be Cas…

Charlie: What about we just go on a really long drive?

Charlie: You can pick the music

Charlie: You shouldn’t be cooped up on Christmas eve eve!

Charlie: Dean Winchester, you better not be ignoring me

Charlie: Dean???

Ellen: You still coming to the party tomorrow?

Oh, shit. Dean had totally forgotten about the Annual Roadhouse Christmas Bash. It was the perfect opportunity to distribute the presents and cards he bought, there was plenty of delicious (and free!) food, and it was generally the highlight of his Christmas. Everyone would be there - Ellen and Jo, Bobby, Charlie, and practically everyone else who lived within a hundred mile radius.

No matter how down Dean was feeling, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. In his opinion, family came before everything.

Dean: course i am

{o0o}

“Come on Clarence, it’s Christmas!” Meg encouraged, nudging Castiel’s shoulder. “I’ll go with you, and Claire can watch Jack. She already agreed.”

Castiel looked down at the napping toddler, one thumb in his mouth and a teddy clutched tight in his tiny hands. It felt like he had barely spent any time with his son in forever, even though he knew it wasn’t true. He knew that if he really didn’t want to go, Meg would let him weasel his way out of this particular social gathering, but he couldn’t help but think that it might be good for him. 

“An hour’s all I’m asking,” Meg begged. He was surprised she hadn’t threatened him with Nair or something yet.

“Fine.” Just one hour, and then a quiet Christmas. What could possibly go wrong?

{o0o}

Dean had busted out his favourite leather jacket, and (at Charlie’s desperate begging) was even wearing just a bit of eyeliner. He was determined to not let his failed date ruin his favourite thing about Christmas, and he would be damned if he spent another minute thinking about Cas.

(So, maybe he had brought the forgotten coat along with him, but that was just so he could give it to Ellen in case Cas came in the Roadhouse again! She was much more likely to see the dude again than him, anyways. It wasn’t Dean’s fault that - because of Charlie’s enthusiasm  to get inside - he had left the thing in the Impala's trunk.)

For the first hour, his plan entirely succeeded. He was distracted by the gift exchanging and the procuring of food and catching up with old friends and avoiding people he didn’t like (namely that one girl who delivered food for Ellen sometimes who he could swear was a demon). It was only after the hour mark when he swore he saw a familiar mop of dark hair, but he immediately dismissed the thought. No way.

He went into the kitchen and chatted to Benny for a while, enjoying catching up on his old friend’s life. Perhaps he got a bit distracted when he heard a familiar gruff voice in the hallway, but other than that, he was sure that his mind was playing tricks on him. Besides, Jo was always up to something. Just because she had a glint in her eye when she came into the kitchen, it didn’t mean anything special. Probably just that some poor fool had a whoopee cushion on their chair somewhere.

It was about halfway through the party when Dean’s plan really started to fail. The music suddenly seemed too loud and the once friendly crowd suddenly made him feel claustrophobic. The smell of burgers and chocolate - no matter how delicious Dean knew they were - was making his stomach roll. The best course of action, he decided, was to step outside for a few minutes, to get some fresh air.

He didn’t expect to find Castiel already out there.

{o0o}

Meg - being Meg - had absolutely insisted, upon their arrival at the Roadhouse, that she didn’t know that it was the location of Castiel’s failed date. Apparently she had been invited (with a plus one) because she occasionally delivered food for them or something, but Castiel smelt a lie in there somewhere.

It would be fine. One hour, free punch and food, and he could go home. He could avoid Dean for one hour. He might not even be there.

An hour in, and Castiel was sure he wasn’t there, in fact. He politely greeted Ellen (who glared daggers at him, which he felt he deserved) and Charlie (who apparently knew Meg). He had a conversation with Jo outside the kitchen (which mostly consisted of him asking where the toilets were and Jo asking if he had called Dean). In fact, he was actually having a fairly pleasant time when he realised that they probably wouldn’t make it home in time to relieve Claire of her babysitting duties, so he quickly rushed outside to call her, but she didn’t pick up.

God only knew where Meg was, but she was - as she put it - a ‘big girl who could handle herself’, so Castiel didn’t bother waiting up. He simply called a taxi, hoping it would get there before he froze to death. He still hadn’t managed to find his favourite coat, and he had deeply mourned his loss.

He was so caught up in hopping from foot to foot and thinking about how much of a tip he was going to give Claire that he nearly didn’t hear the voice coming from the doorway.

“Cas?” Dean Winchester asked.

Fuck, he thought, slowly turning around to be met with the sight of the gorgeous man with a handsome jacket and eyes like a forest. Oh, he was so fucked.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replied instead, not sure what else to say.

The younger man walked up to him tentatively, as if any quick movement he made might scare Cas off. “Uh… what are you doing here?”

“Meg convinced me to come,” Cas answered, his eyes never quite meeting Dean’s.

“Meg? She- Is she your girlfriend?” Dean looked hurt, but Cas couldn’t help but laugh.

“God, no. She’s my neighbour,” he chuckled.

“Oh, sorry,” Dean mumbled.

It was a lot quieter outside, but even with the background noise - wispy notes of music and the occasional growl of a car’s engine in the distance - their silence seemed deafening. Neither of them was quite sure what to say, and even though Cas knew that it was him who owed Dean the explanation, he did not have the energy to explain himself. In all the twenty two years in which he had understood his sexuality, he had never once been able to describe his experience succinctly, or even in a way that wasn’t babbling nonsense.

Of course the taxi was taking its sweet time to show up.

“I’m sorry,” Cas blurted out, at the same time Dean stammered, “why did you leave?”

They are silent for another moment. “It’s hard to explain,” Cas hesitated.

“Well, I’d kinda like to know,” Dean snapped, wincing as the words came out of his mouth. “Sorry, ignore me. I’m being a dick. You don’t have to explain if you don’t want-”

“I’m asexual,” Cas declared abruptly, cutting Dean off.

Dean opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds, trying to process this. Cas knew, he just knew from the look on his face that this conversation was going to be as horrific as it is every. Single. Time.

“I’ve not heard of that before,” Dean eventually stated.

Cas sighed. He liked Dean, he genuinely did, but it was usually The Talk that scared people off. “I’m not sexually attracted to anyone.”

“Oh,” Dean mumbles, sounding disappointed. “So, the other night…?”

“Romantic and sexual attraction are two different things. I enjoyed our date, but I… panicked, at the end. People tend to, uh… expect things, and I didn’t want to lead you on. Sorry, again. I should have handled it better.”

“S’okay. So you don’t have sex at all?” Dean asked, deadpan. Suddenly, he realised what he said, and he clapped his hands over his mouth. “I am so sorry. That is such a weird question. Don’t answer that.”

Cas huffed out a laugh, watching his breath disappear into the night. Looking up, he watched as the stars winked at him against the inky backdrop, and he took a deep breath. “Would you like to go on another date?”

Cas finally allowed himself to look at Dean, and he was greeted with a warm, sincere smile. “I would love that.”

The moment was broken when Cas’ phone rang, and he fumbled to pick it up with his frozen fingers. “Claire! Sorry I’m late, I’m on my- what’s wrong? Claire, slow down. The hospital? Shit, I’m on my way.”

Cas glanced up at Dean, barely registering his concern, only managing to choke out, “Jack is in the hospital.”

{o0o}

Dean didn’t even hesitate. There was no way in Hell he was gonna let Cas wait for a cab when his son was hurt, and he was bundling the distressed man towards his car before he could even protest. “Which hospital?”

Cas stood by the passenger door completely rigid, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Dean, what are you doing?”

Dean looked at him incredulously, one eyebrow raised. “Giving you a lift, dumbass. Baby is way faster than any taxi.”

“Baby?” Cas asked, but he got in the car anyway.

Luckily, the Roadhouse was only a twenty minute drive away (if you went by the speed limit, and Dean most certainly did not) but even that seemed like an age when he was trying to simultaneously not crash the car and comfort the man in the passenger seat. Dean didn’t have any kids of his own, but he could imagine that this was the worst possible thing that could happen to Cas; to have your own child in danger and not being able to be with them must be torture.

Cas was opening the car door before they had even come to a full stop, and by the time Dean had parked, he was already inside. By the time Dean caught up, he was already deep in conversation with Jody’s daughter, who was distraught. It was almost scary; Dean remembered her as the girl who had thrown a full grown man out of a second story window because he groped her, and every interaction he had ever had with her had made her seem like a badass.

“What’s going on?” he asked, gently shepherding them towards a seat in the waiting room. 

Cas wasn’t listening. He had already stormed off and was in a heated discussion with the receptionist, who kept shaking her head more and more forcefully. 

“A dog attacked him,” Claire hiccuped. “Just came out of nowhere and started tearing at him.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Dean assured her, bringing in a hug. He didn’t even care that she was probably getting snot all over his favourite jacket.

Cas stormed back over, looking like he was ready to level a city. “They won’t let me see him until they’ve operated.”

“Shit,” Dean replied, a plan forming. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. Claire, you go outside and call Jody and ask her to pick you up, ‘kay? I’m gonna call someone at the Roadhouse to bring some supplies so we can camp here overnight if we need to… Cas, do you have a spare key or something? I can get someone to pick up some stuff from your house that you might need?”

“Meg has a key,” he sniffled.

Fifteen minutes later, everything is as sorted out as it can be. Bobby - the only person left who is safe to drive -  was giving Meg a lift to Cas’ place to pick up their things and to bring some food, and Jody was there to pick up Claire. 

“It’s not your fault, kiddo. Go home and get some rest, we’ll keep you updated,” Dean reassured her.

An hour later, the doctors agreed to let Cas in to see Jack, assuring them that he will be absolutely fine. When Cas finally untangled himself from Dean’s side, he seemed reluctant to leave him, but Dean just smiled gently at him and squeezed his hand. “I’ll wait right here,”

In the end, Jack gets discharged the very same night, coincidentally right as Bobby and apparently an entire ensemble from the Roadhouse show up. Jo is there with enough leftovers to feed an army, and Charlie and Meg had enough blankets and bags of clothes with them that Dean winced when he spared a thought for the state Cas’ house was going to be in. 

It was a little awkward when Cas walked out of the hospital with a sleeping Jack in his arms, bundled in one of the many blankets, but Bobby just huffed and offered to give them a lift back home. Charlie clambered into the Impala without a second word - it would not be the first time she had slept over at Dean’s while drunk - leaving Dean to say goodbye.

“Night, Cas. And Merry Christmas,” he said, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas replied, and they both knew he wasn’t talking about the holiday wishes.

{o0o}

The next time they actually managed to see each other was New Year’s Eve. Dean had shown up on Cas’ doorstep with chocolate, an armful of fireworks, and his usual lopsided smile. Obviously, he was not going to be refused.

They set the fireworks off as soon as it went dark, Cas holding Jack a safe distance away while Dean lit them, his silhouette dancing in the darkness of the garden. The bangs elicited excited squeaks from Jack, his eyes open wide in awe. He had never seen fireworks up close before.

After Jack had been tucked into sleep, Cas returned downstairs to find Dean lounging on the porch, two glasses of champagne poured. They sat outside for hours, watching the explosions of colour mix with the stars until it was impossible to tell them apart. 

Cas couldn’t help but think that Dean was beautiful in this light; mellow and golden, his eyes sparkling underneath a halo of sparks.

Before long, it was a minute to midnight. “I… can I kiss you again?” Dean mumbled, his eyes flicking over to Cas nervously.

He smiled reassuringly. “I think I would like that.”

“Oh, uh, awesome.” It was hard to tell, but he was sure that Dean was blushing furiously. “I just wasn’t sure if you were, like, aromantic or something.”

Cas’ eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You know what that is?”

“I googled it all after you told me. Figured I should probably learn all the terms, y’know?”

All of a sudden, Castiel realised that he might be falling in love. No one had ever bothered doing anything like that for him before.

A chant started up in the distance, a thousand voices all counting down at the same time.

Ten

Nine

Eight

Dean gently cupped the back of Cas’ neck, pulling him closer until he could feel the warmth of his face.

Seven

Six

Five

Cas smiled up at him, lost in the forests that he called eyes.

Four

Three

Two

“Happy New Year, Cas,” Dean whispered, and their lips collided, better than any firework.

[toribun]

αγάπη

Words :: 6,6k

Pairing :: idol!/soulmate!Jimin x soulmate!reader

Warnings :: swearing, talk about social anxiety, some bad talk about chimchim, a mention about becoming lesbian, future angst, future smut.

CHAPTER 2

the phone call with your mom was definitely the most stressful phone call you had to take in your life. It was even worse than the time you almost sat the whole apartment on fire when you tried to make your friend eggs and bacon for her birthday breakfast. 

She had gotten worried demanding that you gave her your soulmates whole name and the number to Mrs.Kim. You knew you couldn’t give her that though. It would only make matters worse. You loved your mother to death, but she was a bit aggressive when it came to her children. You knew if you gave your mother Mrs.Kims number that she would lash out and probably be sued by the company because of harassment. And you knew she didn’t have enough money saved up to pay for compensation or a good lawyer.

You hadn’t slept much that night. You were too nervous about the meeting with Mrs.Kim and about your neighbor’s reaction to you having visitors. You were supposed to lay low, but everyone in your town knew you never had people over. you were kind of known in town as the young girl that wasn’t capable of making any friends.But most of all you were nervous about how many people Mrs.Kim would bring with her. She said she would bring a full security team. How many people is that? Would they just stand outside your house all day? Because that would definitely bring you an unnecessary amount of attention from your neighbors. 

You hadn’t read anything more about Jimin in your letter nor have you searched for any information about him or his company on the internet. You figured that you would be better of going in the blind about him as much as everybody else does when they get matched. You didn’t need to put more pressure on yourself than you already have. You had started to worry about how he took it when he found out that a girl that works as a bartender and barely made enough money to pay her bills was his soulmate. He must have been so embarrassed. Maybe that why Mrs. Kim and a whole fucking security team were on their way to you at this very moment. Maybe their job was to hide you from the media because Jimin didn’t want anyone to find out about his poor and unsuccessful soulmate. 

Okay... relax (y/n), no need to make yourself hate the guy before you had even been introduced to him. Just take a chill pill. 

When the clock hit ten you heard a knock on your door. A woman, probably in her early thirties was looking at you through your glass door as you walked down the stairs. She had to be Mrs.Kim. Four men all dressed in black was standing on both sides behind her.

When you opened the door, it took approximately five seconds before the lady and all the men had taken off their shoes and made their way into your house. Two of the men dragged your curtains over the glass doors before they turned around with their back to the doors. Then they bowed and said something in a language you didn’t understand. 

You didn’t say anything back nor did you bow back. Why did they bow? That’s so weird. Where you suppose to bow back, or would they think you look like a desperate foreigner trying to fit into the group. You figured a smile would be the best thing to do. You tried to give them the friendliest smile you were able to pull off, to try to make a good first impression. You didn’t want them to think of you as rude.

When you turned around to face the rest of the strangers, one of the men was on his way up the stairs. The woman and the last man of the four were just standing in the middle of your living room. They had smiled as soon as you had turned toward them. They bowed to, but the woman not as low as the man. 

“Hello (y/n), it’s so good to see you in person instead of just talking over the phone. We apologize for rushing in so fast, we didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Yeah well too late for that Mrs.Kim. You shouldn’t have closed the curtains if you wanted me to relax. Now it just looks like you have a mafia boss on a visit with a plan to torture and kill you. You were almost afraid that one of your neighbors would call the cops on them. 

“Ah.. yeah.. umm...hi... I am (y/n), but you probably already know that. I mean you wouldn’t barge in here if you didn’t know who I was” 

Mrs.Kim laughs. She had a beautiful smile. Pearl white teeth and a little dimple, only on her left side though. Her eyes almost disappeared completely when she laughed, you could only see a little gap in her eyes where beautiful dark irises poked through. She had to be the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. If you hadn’t just gotten your soulmate letter you would consider going lesbian for that masterpiece of a human being. 

“No, we certainly wouldn’t. We have all just been a little on edge since we left Korea. Seeing that all your curtains were left completely open for all your neighbors to see just made us a little nervous. It is our job to keep your privacy private from now on after all. And I can promise you that I take my job very seriously as you probably will notice in the next couple of days. I will do my absolute best to protect you (y/n).”

She bowed again, this time a little lower than the first. Then she walked a little closer to you.

“Ah.. so, me and my team haven’t introduced our self’s properly jet. I can start with myself. As you already know I am Mrs.Kim. I have worked for BigHit for almost six years now. I started working as a secretary for a lot of the high profiled people in our company until I got switched over to the security department two years ago. My job for the last two years has been to plan for the arrival of the soulmates of our idols. Now I have been given the position as head of security for you (y/n). I truly look forward to working with you.” 

She shakes my hand and smiles again. Then she turned to look at all the men around your house.

“And some of these men are going to be your personal security guards. Not all of them though, we just brought a little extra to ensure that everything runs smoothly for your journey to Seoul. The next couple of weeks is really going to determine who is gonna stay with you permanently. We will see who you get the most comfortable with and them pic two out of that. We also made sure that all of the security personnel assigned to you are capable of speaking English fluently so that we don’t get any problems related to communication.” 

Wait... If they are all fluent in English, why the hell did they speak another language to you just a couple of minutes ago then? 

“We have Junseo, Seurong, Yucheon, and Hyun. All of them have worked with the company for more than five years. Junseo is actually one of Jimins guards. He has worked with bts since the beginning. Jimin trust him more than any other guard working for us, so he specifically asked for him to join us on our travel to make sure that you were taken extra good care of.”

 They had all smiled when Mrs.Kim said their name and said cute little Hello’s and hi’s in return. Junseo’s ears and cheeks got all red when Mrs.Kim had talked so well about him. You could already tell that he was too pure for this world, how is this blushing mess a security guard? You just couldn’t wrap your head around that. You just wanted to give him a hug and tell him how adorable he is. He probably wouldn’t appreciate that though. He is a grown man after all. You did hope that you two could become friends in the future though. Maybe you could take him out for ice cream someday. He seems like a guy that would like stuff like that.

Mrs. Kim said a couple of words in what you assumed was Korean before all of them except Junseo went outside again. She sounded so French when she talked English, but looked and talked Korean. You were confused. Maybe you were just absolutely horrible at telling apart accents.You were all just standing there so you asked them both to take a seat on your couch to get a more comfortable atmosphere. They happily obliged, you took a seat in the beanbag tucked in the corner of the room. It was silent for what felt like five seconds before Mrs.Kim opened her mouth again. 

“I actually really need you to take a look at these documents with me (y/n). The CEOs of BigHit have required me to present this to you before our travel tomorrow. It is documents regarding your future in the company. Unfortunately, you don’t really have a choice of being a part of the company or not. Not only because of Jimin’s contract with BigHit but also his line of work. But they have tried to make it as fair as possible for you with this contact.” 

The previous big smile that decorated Mrs.Kim’s face had become smaller as she kept talking. You had already tried to prepare for worst-case scenarios, so keeping calm wasn’t as hard as you had first thought. It made sense to. Everybody knows that if you get matched with a famous person that you are basically bound to both them and their work for the rest of your life. You felt bad for the ones that had found at who they were only to have it all be ripped away to become a personal healing bag for their famous soulmate. 

You were also kind of happy though. Everyone in your life seems to know exactly who they are. What work they wanna do, their personality, what their style is, and what their dreams and goals are. You honestly didn’t know anything about yourself. You still haven’t found out who you are or what you want to do with your life. That was a good thing now though. Because if you don’t have anything to lose then people can’t take anything from you. 

But why did they ask for Mrs.Kim to show me the contract now? Why couldn’t we just do that after arriving in Korea? 

“He has requested you to show them to me now? Why can’t it wait until we have arrived in Seoul?” 

Mrs.Kim nodded before looking down at the stack of paper in her hands. 

“Well, even though they know that you wouldn’t run off to another entertainment company and ask for a job. They just need to make sure. Have it in black on white you know. It also is to make you more relaxed. In the contact that they wish for you to sign is a promise from them as a company. They want you to know that they are going to protect both you and your loved ones from the media and the fans. It is also a promise from them that they are going to give you work if you wish to and pay you even if you decide not to. For them, the most important thing is to know that regardless of where Jimin is or what he is doing, that you are going to be right beside him. They know that an idol can’t work without his or her soulmate after the bond as started. They need you to be around so that Jimin can keep working.”

“And in return, I give them what? All of what you just said sounds too good to be true.” You said. Your voice confused.

“In return” she continues. “In return, you give us your absolute loyalty. It really isn’t anything more than that. This isn’t a contact meant to screw you over (y/n). We know how bad it can all end if an idol doesn’t have their soulmate around twenty-four seven” 

Junseo had made his way to your kitchen, probably to give the two of you some privacy to discuss this. It had to be a little uncomfortable just sitting there and watching this conversation progress. You saw him looking at the pictures hanging on your refrigerator. You had filled the whole surface of the refrigerator with photos from back home, and your trips to different parts of the world. The voice of Mrs.Kim brought you back to the conversation.

“You see (y/n), it has been a few thousand cases in South Korea with Idols not having their soulmates around them enough. And everybody knows how wrong things can go with too little physical contact. Both idol and their soulmate would get very sick and in the worst cases die. The things that are different between other companies and ours is that we are willing to use a lot of money, time, and resources on our idol’s soulmate. Because we care and we know that it is what we must do to keep our idols healthy and happy. We have seen how much we can get back from it too. Let’s say that you are happy spending time with us in this company. That can result in you being willing to show up for events and interviews. It can make you want to work with us too, maybe within music or dance, or maybe things like doing modeling jobs. It can also mean that you may be willing to do social media stuff, it is a huge market in that now. But you are never going to want to have anything to do with us if we don’t treat you like family”

 She raised her shoulders a little, sitting more back on the couch. “However way you twist and turn around on this (y/n), you are good for the company. When this goes out into the public in just a few hours, things are going to blow up. Everyone is going to be talking about it. This is something that not only Jimin, his family, band members, and us in the company have been waiting for, but also the fans. It must be close to a gazillion hours of videos of Jimin on the Internet. A lot of those videos are him talking about you. His soulmate that he so desperately wants to find. The fans are going to be so excited for him when the news is out. So the PR is going to be amazing for the company.”

“That’s why BigHit doesn’t want much from you. The only thing that contract is requiring from you is that you don’t work for anyone else. That whatever work you want to do is going to be under BigHit, and that BigHit has the rights on whatever public works you do. It isn’t bad right?”

You nodded your head trying to digest the information. It didn’t sound bad at all. You had read so many horror stories about famous people’s soulmate being abused or taken advanced off by their soulmates company. It didn’t sound like the company that your soulmate works for did things that way. You should be happy and grateful for that you thought.

“Okay, I will sign it.” 

The next morning was the most chaotic morning you had ever experienced. 

Well not for you really. You had just been sitting at the floor with Mrs.Kim for the last hour drinking coffee and watching the moving people packing away all your stuff. But it was tiring to watch. And a little bit uncomfortable to not be helping. You had asked but all the men would just give you a smile and then bow before continuing on.You had taken that as a thank you, but no thank you. 

Everything was gone in under two hours. You didn’t have a lot of stuff, but they packed everything so neatly. It was almost painful to watch them fold every clothing item you owned perfectly before packing it away. You thought your closet was quite organized but not enough for them apparently. 

Mrs.Kim has told you that they were not Korean but Japanese. And also, that the same moving company had helped them every time the group that Jimin was a part of, had moved. They were supposedly the best of the best.

It was really quite in the streets, mostly because the clock only was eight in the morning. Most of the tourists are still asleep. So the moving crew had been able to pack everything up and leave without anyone noticing.Mrs. Kim told you that it would be best to pack up everything when there are fewer people around. The fewer the people the less attention.

The news of you and Jimin had dropped yesterday. And even though Mrs.Kim wouldn’t tell you anything, you could tell that it has become big news. She had talked on the phone for hours with someone you assumed was working for the company as well. She had talked in a low and stressful voice and even though you didn’t understand a word Korean, you knew that that conversation was something she didn’t want you to understand.

So she hasn’t told you anything though. You had tried to ask her about it but she would only answer that it was nothing for me to worry about and that it is being handled. 

You did worry though, but she didn’t give you much time to. Because as soon as the moving truck had left you were lead out to the cars as well. You would be leaving in two different cars. You, Mrs.Kim, and Junseo were leaving in one car while Seurong, Yucheon, and Hyun would leave in another. 

You and Mrs.Kim have taken the back seats as Junseo would drive. The car was filled to the brim with tension. As both you and Mrs.Kim refuse to make any eye contact. You could tell she was nervous, and it made you uneasy as well. The only comfort you got was from Junseo through the rear-view mirror as he would give you small smiles and winks whenever you would catch his gaze. 

The last days had gone by so fast. You were just happy that you had gotten the time to give everyone that was important to you on that island a goodbye in person before you left. Even though you wished you had more time with everyone you knew that if you had asked for more you would have given Mrs.Kim a heart attack. And you weren’t that keen on having to explain to the company that you had killed one of their employees. You don’t think they would be so nice to you anymore if you had.

When you were getting close to the airport you noticed Mrs.Kim straighten up. She looked more alert as she eyed the people around the airport. Then after we stopped right outside the terminal one door she let out a breath and started to look more relaxed again. She turned to Junseo and told him something in Korean with a smile. 

What suddenly made them so happy?

The door on your side suddenly opened, making you flinch before turning around to face a smirking Yucheon. You blush a little as he started to giggle of your reaction. 

“You can come out now, me and Junseo will take you to the first-class lounge so you can eat something before our plane leaves” 

Oh, so he does talk English, just with an adorable accent. 

“I am really hungry too, so you don’t have to worry about eating alone” He gave you a reassuring smile. It reached his eyes and gave him cute eye wrinkles. 

You smiled back before making a mental note of Yucheon being a potential candidate for being your future lunch buddy when your soulmate decided to ditch you.

 “Ah. Thank you, I would hate to eat alone. That’s really depressing” 

He giggled a little more before making more space for you to crawl out of the car. Junseo jumped out of the car only a second after you. Then the three of you made your way into the busy airport. Mrs.Kim hadn’t followed you and neither had Hyun. You didn’t want to ask about it, it was okay for you to not know the reason behind everything. You knew it would only make you more anxious. And you didn’t want to loos your cool when you had made it this far.

The first-class lounge was mostly empty except the few people that worked in the buffet and an old couple sitting in the corner. Yucheon had informed you that the plane didn’t leave before twelve o’clock, so the three of you had almost two hours to eat our way through the buffet.

You had gotten to know both of them a little better at that time. Yucheon was twenty-eight years old and loved food, animals, tv-dramas, and long walks by a famous river that was in Seoul. Junseo was thirty years old and loved to read, travel, play video games, and go to the gym. You liked both of them a lot and found yourself wondering if it would be possible to steal Junseo from Jimin. 

You had asked them both if they would like to join you for ice cream and a walk along the river that Yucheon talked about, both of them said they would love to but that we would have to wait until the news of you and Jimin had died down. 

Yucheon had been shocked when you confessed to not really knowing anything about Jimin. He had been even more shocked when you told him that you haven’t even searched his name on google jet. He, of course, had thought that you were at least a little curious about him. And you are, but you are also really afraid to freak yourself out before you had even met the guy. 

Naturally Yucheon and Junseo we’re both eager to tell you everything they knew, even though you interested on that they don’t. 

“You know” started Junseo.

“He really has been putting a lot of effort to make everything perfect before you come. Not just after he got the letter, but for as long as I have worked for BigHit” 

He stopped eating and laid down his fork before he leaned more back into the couch. 

“He talked about you daily, even before knowing your name. He would always say stuff like ‘I can’t wait to show her this’ or is bet she would love to see this’. It was always about you. Everything he does he does for you. I remember having to wake him up one time. He had fallen asleep in the car on the way to rehearsal. He was crying in his sleep, and when I woke him up he said ‘why does TISO use so much time to find her?’ And ‘I have paid them so much to make it go faster because I need her now. Why can’t they just find her now? I need her now.”

He picked up his fork again and took a big bite of the pasta dish he was eating.

“You know, he really is a good guy. But he has a big heart that breaks easily. So be nice to him, please. He really is trying his best. So don’t be mad at him for not knowing enough English to express himself or communicating with you properly. Just tell him it’s okay, and that you will learn together. Because I can’t handle to see him heartbroken, especially after longing for you for such a long time” 

Junseo seemed to really love Jimin. He wouldn’t have told me this if he didn’t. 

You just nodded and told him you that he didn’t have to worry. Your first language wasn’t English ether so you know that learning a new language could be hard. You wouldn’t judge someone because of it. 

By that time Mrs.Kim had called them and informed us that we could board the plane soon. You had made your way through the terminal and before you even knew you were sitting in first class on a plane ready to leave for the other side of the world.

You had never flown for more than six hours, so you were starting to feel more and more thankful for the first class tickets the longer you were in the air.

You didn’t think you would have survived in the air for so long if you had to sit in the economy.

They had served food three times throughout the flight. All of the food served were multiple courses and were served with wine. When you were not eating you enjoyed the movie collection on board. Mrs.Kim had been on a Skype call with a man you didn’t know, for a couple of hours of the flight before falling asleep. The rest of the guys seemed to be sleeping for most of the flight too. Maybe it would have been smart of you to sleep too, but you were way to nervous about landing in Seoul to fall asleep.

The thought of the cameras that would be waiting to catch a glimpse of you at the airport was all you were capable of thinking about. You were thinking about how your life would be from now on, all the media and pressure didn’t match your ideal lifestyle. You were starting to question TISO’s discovery on you and Jimin as soulmates. Maybe they did a mistake or only matched you and Jimin together because they got paid a lot by him or his company and didn’t find his soulmate fast enough.

It didn’t seem right to you.

You've dreamed of having at least five or six more years alone before being matched with a guy living a quiet and boring life. You liked quiet and boring. It made you feel safe. Your mental health wasn’t stable enough to live the life Jimin was living. You prefer to not be the center of attention and would much rather be in the corner of the room than being the one that dances in the middle.

Your thoughts were stopped by the pilot's announcement over the speakers.

“ Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into Seoul. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and make sure all your belongings are secured. Also, make sure your seat back is straight up and your seatbelt is fastened. The flight attendants will make one more round to pick up any unwanted items left. Thank you”

You looked over to Mrs.Kim. She was already looking at you. A lazy smile decorated her face. She looked so cute when she was sleepy, you wonder who was blessed with waking up to her every day.

“Are you ready (y/n)?”

You nodded. You kinda just had to be ready, because there was no way they pilots would just fly a couple of extra rounds just so you could have a little more time, now was it?

“There is no need to be nervous. I have already talked to some of our staff on the ground. They have everything under control.”

You already know that they would. The only problem is that they actually need to keep things under control. That only means it’s people waiting for you on the ground.

“(Y/n)”

You nodded and tried to give a small smile as reassurance. She didn’t need to know how much you were dying on the inside right now.

“I need you to remember to stay close to Junseo when we land. Your baggage is going to be delivered directly to the car. All you need to do is to keep your head low and your focus on Junseo. You are going to be wearing a mask and a hoodie so that the paparazzi can’t get a clear shot of you”

You almost jumped from your seat when the plain suddenly hit the ground, only the seatbelt prevented you from it.

You had missed your favorite part of any flight. To watch out the window on the city that you were gonna stay in. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be the last time you were gonna land in Seoul, so you would just have to pay more attention next time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we in emirates welcomes you to Seoul. The local time is six in the morning and the temperature is currently eighteen degrees Celsius. For your safety and for those around you, please remain seated until the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign is turned off. Thank you”

The next minutes passed almost too quickly. All of you were all packed up and on your way out of the plane in what felt like only a minute.

Mrs.Kim had given you a big pink hoodie with ‘BTS’ written on the front and a black mask. Junseo was walking in front and had his arm stretched out for you. You quickly accepted and gripped his hand hard. You swear you had seen Junseo flinch from the power of your tight hold on him.

You had walked through security control and passport control completely alone. Big Hit had to have something to do with the luxury treatment you thought.

They hadn’t asked many questions after receiving your passport and confirmation from TISO on your soulmate. They had stamped your passport and told you something in Korean before giving you a smile followed by a bow.

And then you were on your way towards a door to what you assumed was the main terminal of the airport. But nobody from your travel group told you anything. Junseo only offered his hand to you again as Mrs.Kim dragged the hood of the hoodie over your head and made sure the mask was sitting right.

“Keep your head down and don’t freeze. We have to move fast (y/n).”

“I understand” was the only thing you could think of saying. You just had to trust these people that you had only known for three days to keep you safe.

No problem.

As you got closer to the metal door you started to hear the noise from the other side. As soon as Yucheon opened the door the people on the other side exploded in screams.

You had loosened your hold on Junseo hand and tried to take a step back. But he had only fastened his hold on you and given you a thigh squeeze. Mrs.Kim placed her hand on your back before shoving you out the door.

The flashlights were blinding. You tried your hardest to keep your focus on Junseo’s moving feet and on Mrs.Kim’s hand that had made its way around your waist.

You lifted your gaze slightly. But not enough to look over Junseo’s big shoulders. You did, however, get a glimpse of the barricade that was blocking you from them. It hanged a lot of signs on it. Papers in all of the rainbow's colors with colorful writing on them.

“Welcome to Korea (y/n),” one said.

“Army supports you,” another one said.

Why the hell would the Korean army support me?

“Please tell Jimin to eat at” the rest was written in Korean. You assumed it was a restaurant or cafe.

You almost tripped when Junseo slowed down. A big revolving door was the reason for his now slower pace. But as soon as you had made your way through, you were quickly shown into a black van.

You felt as though you were finally able to breathe properly again.

Outside the airport young girls and boys were gathered. You could hear them even though the car doors were closed.

They were singing.

There was already a person ready in the driver's seat. Mrs. Kim had taken the front seat and Junseo had walked around the car to sit at your left side in the back.

You had no idea where Seurong, Yucheon, or Hyun was. But you could imagine them being in some of the surrounding vehicles.

The driver that you didn't know the name of, told Mrs. Kim something with a smile before starting to drive. The singing from the people outside the airport soon disappeared. You were left with only the motor of the car as noise. You pay close attention to everything passing by. This was the city you were most likely going to live in for all of the remaining years of your life. So you tried your best to remember buildings that looked exiting or places that you would like to later explore.

It was exciting, you couldn't lie. Seoul was truly a stunning city. It was extraordinary to see such a beautiful contrast between the old and the new buildings. You could almost feel the culture in the air as you got deeper and deeper into the city.

An extremely tall building caught your eye.

”What is that?” you asked. Everybody else that was in the car flinched. You had tried not to make your voice loud, but the car was just too quiet. Any noise that would occur would certainly scare anyone.

”what? Where?” Junseo was leaning over you to watch out your side of the car. His eyes frantically searching for whatever had caught your attention.

”that!” you tried to point your index finger as precisely a possible. Letting your finger push hard against the glass window and closing your left eye. Junseo tried to follow your finger to what it was pointing towards.

”ahh, that is lotte tower, I can take you there sometime. They have a nice bar in one of the top floors with an amazing view of Seoul” He had started at the building as he was talking to you. Your finger only left the window after he was done explaining about the tower.

The drive through the city went slow. The traffic wasn't bad, but it felt like they had a stoplight at every corner in the whole city center. But it could also be because of the awkward tension between everyone in the car. They all know that when you arrive, they are going to be the witnesses to you and Jimins first meeting.

No pressure right?

You were really nervous though. And it was uncomfortable to think about people watching your first meeting with Jimin. You found yourself wondering if that's how it's always gonna be with Jimin. He was famous after all. You had just hoped that you would have this moment for yourself.

You were starting to see that you were arriving on the rich side of town. Every building, flower, bench, and even the crosswalk looked expensive. You didn't belong here.

You suddenly stopped at a security gate. A huge fence blocking the car from continuing on driving. One of the two men guarding the gate came up to the driver's window. The other man was walking around the car and looking at me and Junseo. Mrs. Kim has just leaned over the driver to hand some papers to the security guard, not really seeming nervous about the men. They had talked only a couple of sentences each before Mrs.Kim turned around to look at me.

”This is as far as we are allowed to take you today, (y/n). These kind men will walk you up this hill to Jimins apartment. You can just walk straight in, the door is unlocked.”

You weren't ready. But then again you probably never would.

”okay, thanks guys. For the drive and all that.” you said looking down at your hands that we're lying comfortably on your lap.

”hey.” Junseo took your left hand and squeezed tightly. Then he gave you a piece of paper with his name and number on it.

”you know we are all just a phone call away if you need us. But I doubt you will. I know Jimin is gonna keep you busy. He has basically planned for this for his whole life. You are going to be eating good food, see beautiful places, have lots of fun, and meet everyone important to him. I promise you are gonna have the best time of your life, I am honestly a little afraid you might forget me after a few weeks with him.

You laughed. Tears were forming in the corner of your eyes. You couldn't tell if it was from nerves, happiness, or sadness. It almost felt like a mix of them all.

”thank you. I really appreciate you Junseo. Don't be mad though, when I start calling you about ice cream and that walk we talked about. I can be a bit annoying if things don't happen fast enough for me.”

You could see Mrs. Kim smile in the corner of your eyes.

«I like annoying.” was all Junseo said before you stepped out of the car. Only carrying your hand luggage, you had no idea when the rest would arrive.

The tall building he lived in was intimidating. It seems to reach beyond the clouds. Not the best place for one with a fear of heights, especially when he lives on the top two floors. You though the guard that followed you to the building was joking with you when he gave you a keycard to the elevator and told you to press floor number fifty-two.

The guard had let out a laugh at your reaction but did little to help you other than giving you a kind smile and a point with his index finger to the elevator.

He obviously didn't speak a word English, but you still found him cute with all his hand gestures and his broken English.

”Okay, okay, I am going don't worry. You can go down to your friend again. I just need a minute to try to calm myself before going into that death trap.”

He only let out another laugh but didn't move an inch.

Great.

You give the poor guy a smile before turning around and going into the elevator, pressing the fifty-second floor, and scanning your new keycard. You turned with your back to the door and faced the mirror that was covered the whole wall. Your make-up is completely ruined by your long journey and you find yourself regretting not using the time from the airport to jimins house to try to look at least a little more presentable.

You had decided to wear a navy blue jumpsuit. It was pretty and you slightly prayed that it would be enough to distract him from your face.

”hello.”

You haven't even noticed the elevator door opening, but as you lifted your gaze you saw his eyes on you through the mirror. He was standing in the hallway without shoes on.

He looked like an angel. Wearing all white and many accessories. The clothes he was wearing was baggy but made with a thin fabric, so thin that you could see the outline of the tattoo on his ribcage. His rings we're all gold-colored with different colored gemstones. His outfit was planned but relaxed.

Dark but gentle eyes started intensely on you. They held the stars. He had tears threatening to fall in the corners on both eyes, but you only saw it becomes the light hit his face perfectly, making his eyes shine.

He was biting the corner of his lip, as he was slightly swaying back and forth, shifting between one foot and the other.

Then you realized.

He was just as nervous as you.

”hi.”

[missinghan]

night changes (2) ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : rich kid!au

❖ word count : 21k.

❖ warning : explicit language & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : fate decides to backfire when you try to pull the son of the Senator in as a barrier between your life and Bang Chan.

❖ a/n : read pt.1 beforehand to understand the story better, I’m too tired to proofread this after the nth time, please don’t @ me.

one. The only reason why your mom persuaded Jeongin to move after when you moved in with your dad was college being practically thirty minutes away from the place. And also because of the rent. You feel bad for your brother mainly since the walls there are awfully thin and the girl next door always seems to have someone over every other night. They aren’t exactly trying to be subtle either. Sometimes you wonder how the fuck can he study for finals when the noise pollution can’t get any worse but he still manages to hit straight A-s.

On the other hand, you and Felix never have to worry about things such as students’ loans or college tuition. Every single penny was paid, as well as every other necessity in life. But you feel like nothing but a filler or a mannequin whenever you dad demands for intimate parties where you’re forced to sit still and look pretty when he’s too busy talking business with the other families. You’re just simply there, in his circle of status. Even when you’re all dressed up in designers’ clothes and whatnots, you still feel so out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Felix rolls his eyes dramatically when you pull up right in front of a rather ugly tree, scowling hard. “And you’re seriously taking your Rover today? Where did all of your standards go?” He glances sideways and sees a black Mercedes right in front of your car but shrugs it off shortly after.

“Hey! You take that back! She’s my baby! And also, it’s not gonna freak Jeongin out as much as your Tesla would,” you chuckle and punch his arm, earning a wholehearted laugh in return. Despite being born in a well off family, your stepbrother isn’t as much of an asshole as you’re expecting him to be. He’s pretty down to earth and acts like every other college kid that you’ve met with a questionable obsession with Fortnite. Except he loves to shove all the logos of luxurious brands into people’s faces who keep pissing him off, making him that much more intimidating.

“Wait here or stay there, pick your poison,” you tell him before grabbing your key and exit the car.

Felix mumbles something along the lines of ‘don’t be so rude’ and trails after you. He flutters his eyes upwards to take a closer look at the apartment complex before him. It’s quite small but seems very cozy. He wonders if it does feel less isolating and cold when there isn’t so much extra space around him all the time. “Hurry up, Lix! Jeongin gotta run to class in three hours.” With that, he hastily follows you up a narrow, rusty flight of stairs, the place reeks off the smell his dad always despises. He calls it ‘the subway smell’.

When your hand is hovering over the wooden door, it suddenly swings open, revealing an impossibly handsome guy. Chestnut brown hair, midnight orbs, tall nose, and peachy lips. He has you completely frozen for a good five seconds before you snap out of it, raising an eyebrow. Since when did Jeongin have hot guys as his roommates? And since when did your mom even allow him to have roommates? “Uhm sorry, you are..?”

The stranger smiles, perfectly showcasing his white. That’s your weak spot too. You’re a complete sucker for guys with cute smiles. “I’m Jaemin, and uh, my friend asked me to come over and help him with an upcoming exam.” You subconsciously stare at his outfits for a while, seeing no signs of any designers’ pieces. But his posture screams mad confidence, straight back, always maintaining eye contact, like he’s been raised in a wealthy family just like Felix. You can’t help but automatically judge people for what they wear, it’s been drilled into your mindset at some point and you hate yourself for that.

“Hello? Are you okay?” He waves his hand when you stay unresponsive. He partially thinks that you’re mentally judging him for acting like a weirdo.

You laugh nervously, completely oblivious of how Felix is facepalming himself behind your back. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m here to look for my brother.”

“Brother who?” Jaemin narrows his eyes at you skeptically.

“Yang Jeongin? Ring any bell?”

“What? Jeongin never told me he had a sis—“ his gasp is cut off midway when a hand flies to his mouth out of nowhere and pulls him backward. Your brother pokes his head out from behind Jaemin and smiles sheepishly. You can’t help but notice how different his smile is. Oh…where are his braces?

Jeongin says flatly, “Hey, sis, long time no see.” Then he scratches the nape of his neck, unsure of what to say. “Uhm, so what are you doing here?” It’s really been a while since you last saw him. Your dad can’t really do anything because your mom had full custody of raising him and he wanted to stay with her either way. He said he wouldn’t feel like he belongs if he dares to take a single footstep into his billion dollars mansion. Sometimes it feels like you’re just two strangers with the same blood coursing through your veins, family in name, but not in fact. But to be fair, you don’t even have the same last name as him.

“Where’s mom?” You avoid his question before stepping into the studio apartment completely. The last time you were here was when you’re still a freshman in college, you believe. And now all you can do is stand there in awe.

There was nothing but cardboard boxes scattered everywhere, dirty dishes piling up day by day, chipping wallpapers and a crusty old couch that the previous owner left behind as a result of your heartbroken mom. It used to make you grimace but holy shit, mom really did pull herself together. The place is freshly renovated, the smell of new paint is still evident, a teal couch, wooden cabinets, clean kitchen, bathroom on the left along with a brand new TV. Although it’s not the newest model of any sort, you can see how far your mom has come. She worked hard for your brother, and it’s definitely paying off.

Jeongin whispers something into Jaemin’s ears and pushes him out the front door, leaving a very shocked-looking Felix as a witness. “She’s at work,” he states the obvious monotonously.

“Oh,” you chuckle to yourself and let your fingers dance along the kitchen aisle. “Silly me. Anyway, when did you have your braces off? Last week?”

“It’s been a lot longer than that, Y/N. The last time you saw me was Woojin’s wedding.” He massages the side of his temple, sighing heavily. And your heart sinks, a pang of guilt always seems to be inevitable whenever you come over to visit him. Even when it’s only once or twice a year, you could never move on with life without knowing how he’s doing. You tried. “What are you doing here?”

You cut to the chase, “Dad wants you to come and join his party at the hotel this weekend. Nothing major, just another event as an excuse for him to make more money. And also he said he wanted to see you.”

“As if he needs any more money,” your brother sneers. “And he wanted to see me? Don’t be ridiculous. The old man probably wants me there to humiliate the shit out of me so that I’ll stay away from him and his precious jewels.” You perk a brow at what he’s referring you and Felix to, “I’m not gonna be there and smile through the whole thing. I don’t even own a tuxedo for fuck’s sake! Those people aren’t just rich, they’re crazy rich. They’re snoshy, and loud, and act all elegant with thousands of dollars draped over their bodies—“

Felix makes a face, “Snoshy?”

“Posh and snobby.”

“Are you coming for my accent?”

“I dare not.”

He laughs and swings an arm around Jeongin’s shoulders. “Good move, kid. Now get in the car, loser, we’re going shopping.”

The younger boy scrunches his nose in disgust, shoving your stepbrother away. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t make me put you in timeout.”

two. Jeongin feels like he’s sitting on a pile of burning coal instead of the espresso-colored velvet couch in the middle of a Tom Ford store. Soft white light slipping through the ceiling, walls embedded with mirrors all around and closets that are probably made with the finest kinds of wood. Even the fake pot of flowers on the glass coffee table in front of him looks more expensive than everything he owns combined. While he’s receiving dirty looks from some of the staff, Felix on the other hand, is too busy skimming through the watches and ties displayed inside the see-through cabinets.

Being humiliated just because he doesn’t dress like ‘your people’ makes him wanna bust through the door and stay at home for three consecutive days. People already disrespected him in a clothing store, what will happen if he attends that stupid intimate party? He’s not gonna fit into the social circle just because he’s wearing some designers’ pieces because that’s not who he is.

“Wrap those up for me,” you voice, face stoic of any emotions.

A staff at the checkout nervously laces her fingers together, a bead of sweat unknowingly rolls down on her temple. “Miss Lee! Having you buy our newest collection is more than we can ever afford, I’ll make sure to contact our superior to let you—“

“To let me fire you?” You cut her off, voice soft and stern at the same time. “Oh please, don’t bother,” the staff almost jumps back when you place one of your hands on hers, your rings cold against her burning skin as shivers run down her spine. “Minho will take good care of you, I guarantee.”

Jeongin groans in pure frustration when you wave at him, smiling in your luxurious glory when he’s sitting inside a high-end store like an absolute idiot. “Tom Ford? What is wrong with you people?” Felix glares at him and he immediately puts his hands up in defense. “Right, sorry. But would you mind and just strangle me right here right now so that I won’t make a grave mistake by putting that on? Can’t I just wear the tux that I had on Woojin’s wedding?” You bringing Felix along had already suffocated him enough when he literally lives and breathes in Gucci. Jeongin is not a fan of the tiger on his bomber jacket either.

“Eh..it’s a little dated, wouldn’t hurt to buy a new one. And did you really think that your sister’s gonna let you pay by yourself? How innocent,” Felix puts an arm over his shoulders when he refers to the brand new suit jacket, dress shirt and slacks on the marble counter. All that for more than ten thousand dollars, so… he’s gonna need more than ten years to pay you back. “Also, did you know that your sister is scary when someone pisses her off?” He whispers under his breath, slightly scared that you’re gonna catch his words.

“You’re wasting my time,” you hand your credit card over to the other staff, in which he receives with shaking hands. “Get yourself clean up and pack your bags, I’m sure a professional like you would have no problem landing another job like this.”

Jeongin almost gawks at how you’re giving ten thousand dollars away like you’re simply buying a burger at McDonald’s. He even feels bad for the staff who’s on the verge of breaking down, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. She did treat him like he was trying to rob the place but having her fired is far too harsh. Now he knows why he should never be on your bad side. “I think I do now.” He swallows thickly with two hands on his knees, the muscles on his back tense.

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, we—“

You smile coldly, “That’s enough, I believe you all can reconsider your own behaviors towards customers. All of your customers.”

“Yep,” Felix catches the jet black Tom Ford bag when you walk past the couch, seemingly busy talking on the phone with Minho. “Iced cold motherfucker.”

Then, an unfamiliar figure enters the store the moment you walk out the door. Felix and Jeongin also pass by her without a second look even when they both accidentally catch some parts of her conversation with the staff. Fuzzily. So he doesn’t bother to think too much about it. “Good afternoon, ma’am, how can we help you?”

“I’m here to pick up a tuxedo for my boyfriend,” the girl takes off her sunglasses and grins, a smile that can take the breath right out of anyone.

The staff returns her smile and taps away on the iPad while the others are escorting the crying woman into the bathroom. “May we have the name please?”

Felix tosses the bag into the car trunk as soon as you start the engine, hurrying to the backseats after. Jeongin has his arms crossed in front of his chest in the passenger’s seat, no words can describe how frustrated, and mad, and partially relieved he feels right now all at once. All will be revealed in the next episode of how his sister fucks up every relationship he’s ever made, stay tuned folks!

“I was having a migraine just by seeing you handing out one of your five other credit cards. And firing her too? Aren’t you being too harsh? Couldn’t you spare her any sense of kindness at least?”

You laugh monotonously, “There are way worse things that could have happened to her. Trust me, you don’t wanna know what ‘my people’ can do.” This isn’t the first time you’ve seen some self excessively conceited staff who judges people by their social background. And now they had the audacity to insult your brother? Being fired is the only sense of kindness that you can give them for today.

“Great, now I’m gonna have to pay the old man back.”

You carefully take a turn and almost snort at your brother’s pointless concern. “That was my money, in my own defense. I don’t live off dad’s pennies anymore.” Even if it was your dad’s money, he would never make his biological son pay for what he can’t even afford. That’s like…asking a vegetarian why they want to bring down the mood of a BBQ party.

Jeongin replies flatly, looking out the window in boredom. “Huh, funny. Last time I checked, you said you were working at his hotel. Who’s the big boss there? Where does all the money come from? Him. Same thing.”

“Are you familiar with the triggers of migraines?” Felix abruptly places a hand on Jeongin’s shoulders, almost giving him a heart attack.

Jeongin doesn’t know much about migraines but he does know that your stepbrother is high-key a weirdo who just happens to be born with a butt load of money. “Uh…no?” If he happens to live in the same home with this idiot, he’s gonna go insane in a minimum of twenty-four hours. No doubt.

Felix excitedly laces his hand together and you mentally facepalm yourself. You’re so over his discussion about stuff like this because you know damn well he’s just trying to take it out on people after being stuck in med school for two years. He’s convinced that he’s gonna kill people instead of curing them so his mom gave him the consent to drop out to prolong the family’s legacy. “Here are some of them so that you know what not to do; from most likely to least likely: emotional stress, hormone, not eating, the fucking weather, sleep disturbances, certain odors, neck pain, alcohol, bright lights, smoke, certain foods, exercise, sexual activities, etc.”

“Sexual activities? Like a hangover after getting laid?” Jeongin asks.

“No, like just sex itself but it’s not supposed to happen that often so don’t worry too much about that.”

You automatically grit, feeling the need to bleach your ears after this. “Do not encourage him.”

“Hey! This is for educational purposes! Besides, it’s not like he’s still a little boy or whatever, he’s an adult now. #LifeCoachingWithLeeYongbok.” Felix takes no time to defend himself. “Now, I wish I could lecture you about the hypothalamus and give you a long-winded explanation of the science behind it, but Imma spare you for today.” Even if it were possible for you to sew his lips together, there’s no doubt that those unnecessarily inappropriate words would still find their ways to crawl out of his mouth and potentially mess up your little brother’s entire existence.

You let out a humorless chuckle, one that yells ‘hey, stop before you fucked it up for the rest of us’. “I’d hate to poke your enormous ego, but whoever attends your classes is gonna have their life crumbling right in front of their eyes.”

Felix simpers at your attempt of a clapback. “Actually no, people who attend my classes drastically turn their life around because they know what not to do. If you think about it, all of my advice to you has been great. I just don’t practice what I preach,” he tuts in that deepass voice of his, not noticing how Jeongin’s face is morphing into a very disgusted expression. “Just one more shot, I’ll be fine. I can quit whenever I want. I’m not addicted,” he mocks one of his friends who can’t stop drinking for their own good. “No, you won’t you lying bitch. An example of someone who followed that sentiment is right in front of you.”

He fairly believes that he can become the youngest professor to be teaching at a college or university with a Ph.D. in the ‘Getting your shit together’ Department.

But in your eyes, these are just some of the side effects that he got from hanging out with Minho so much. Being bitchy and all. If anything, Minho should be the one who takes his spot and becomes the youngest staff for big places like Harvard or Oxford. And you’d love to continue this nonsense of an argument but you’re already pissed off by that staff previously so you should just let him win or your dad’s gonna find you three ending up in the E.R.

“So this is what I get for setting you up with Chan,” Jeongin crosses his arms and you glance at him sideways, staying silent for the rest of the drive home.

three. Chan dreads the packing process after a long tremendously because not only does he have to trust his idiotic friends to not damage his luggage, he also has to help them pack since they are literal children. Changbin’s butler straight up shakes his head when Chan FaceTimed him, asking about how he usually helps him with preparation for a trip. He really hopes his family pays the man good money because dealing with Changbin’s impulsive, indecisive ass sounds extremely exhausting, and burdensome as well.

“Which one?” Changbin refers to a dozen of black tuxedos hanging inside the dressing room, and Chan feels like his brain’s about to retire.

He exclaims in frustration, “THEY’RE ALL BLACK FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

“No you uneducated moron,” Changbin purses his lips, “There’s carbon black, raisin black, olive black, super black, coal-black,..which one’s sexy enough for me to snatch myself a date at the party?”

“Seo Changbin!”

Chan’s been so sensitive these days, to the point that he decided to whack a mosquito with his MacBook the other day. He did miss the mosquito, but also, he almost killed Jisung who’s taking a nap right beside him in the studio. And apparently, Han Jisung holds grudges. Hence, there’s no way in hell is he gonna help Chan in the ‘Getting Seo Changbin aka the snobby brat the perfect tuxedo’ Operation. It would be way easier if Jisung was here.

Changbin interjects his trains of thoughts, “Silk or wool?”

“Uh- silk.”

“The Gabardine one or the smoking jacket?”

Chan makes a face, “Smoking jacket?” Whatever that means. He didn’t like the shoulder pads on the other one anyway.

“You heard him, Park, go get that ish and wrap it up! Go go go!” Changbin pauses for a second, “Wait, no, actually…just take them both.”

Call him delusional, but in the span of ten seconds, Chan fully believes he’s already entered (or has been pushed into) the Panamera 4 E-Hybrid that’s waiting outside of the mall. Jisung’s sitting in the passenger’s seat, honking the car repeatedly while the Seo family’s chauffeur is constantly throwing daggers at him with his eyes. Now he’s starting to question if bringing Jisung to the mall would be the wisest decision.

“What’s with the grumpy face, grandpa?” He chimes unhelpfully with a pout on his face. And now all Chan wants to do is to deck his perfect teeth and knock upside his head. “You really need to lighten up, old man, you’re going home!” He groans dramatically, arms crossed like a three-year-old.

“Yeah, going home,” Chan says with expressive hands. “To put on a goddamn show for my grandparents so that they won’t have a heart attack knowing that I can’t give two fucks about their promise with some random family in the same circle.” He’s on the verge of breaking down just thinking about going hand in hand in public with another woman that’s not you. It makes him sick to the stomach more knowing that he’s been hiding everything from you.

He’s such an asshole for doing this to you. Avoiding your calls and texts every other day becomes almost all too unbearable for his shoulders. Instead, he’s been trying to leave you voicemails every other week but it seems like you’ve already despised him. The night of Woojin’s wedding comes crashing down on him as he takes a stroll down memory lane. He might as well be cursed because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to have you in his arms again. The saying: “out of sight, out of mind” works for some people as an excuse to forget someone but truth is, he still misses you, all the time, every second, every minute, every hour, every day.

“So you didn’t tell her?” Changbin perks a dark brow.

“Not yet…”

“You should though,”

Chan barks, “I know! She just won’t answer my voicemails,”

“Then call her you coward!” Changbin immediately barks back, fingers still tapping away on his phone, “Look, if Y/N was your date in the first place, you would be crazy giddy and all right now, and not the nervous kind of giddy, but like the exciting kind of giddy. You are so loopy in love with her it makes me wanna feed my eyeballs to my dad’s German Shepherd whenever you’re FaceTiming her,”

Chan’s been clenching his jaw for God knows how long, and now it’s starting to ache. “Don’t say that, she probably hates me. Like you said, I’m a coward. I don’t deserve her and she doesn’t deserve this. Falling for Y/N was probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. All I’ve been doing is tearing us apart. Sometimes I wish I didn’t fall for her—“

“—listen up, you genius. If falling for Y/N is a sin then so be it. Because being in love with her is gonna be the best fucking mistake you’ve ever made in your twenty-three years of existing,” Changbin’s words start zeroing in on Chan, so when he opens his mouth to say something, it automatically snaps closed. “I’ve never seen your eyes do that thing where they sparkle whenever we mention her name or when you’re just simply giggling to yourself while texting her. And have you seen the way that she looks at you? She looks at you like you’re the only person to exist on this planet, like someone she’s ever truly loved more than herself.”

Chan drops his gaze from Changbin to his knees, his heart beating rapidly at the sound of your name. Goddamn, he really misses you. “It’s okay, Bin, even if she hates me. I can—“

Changbin interjects immediately, gripping onto his friend’s shoulders tightly and stares into his tired eyes. “Don’t fucking tell me that it’s okay because I saw you alone in the studio every night. You were crying like a baby!” Seo Changbin gives really good advice because pushing people to their limits, not crossing them, just dangling at the edge so that they can’t stop acting like a loser and get their shit together is what he does for a living. Without getting paid a single penny.

“It’s because I’m losing her! I did that to myself!” Chan shudders at his own words, shaking his head profusely to hold back his tears. The idea of losing you sounds so terrifyingly panic-stricken that he would rather lose anything else than not have you in his life, or just not having you at all in the first place. Chan was an idiot for kissing you that night but something deep down still tells him that “screw life, you said what you said and you did what you did, now go out there and get her back before she falls into someone else’s arms”.

Changbin corrects him, pinpointing his words. “You’re losing her, you didn’t lose her yet. You still have an opportunity to make it up to her.” He knows Chan long enough to know that his friend doesn’t easily wear his feelings on his sleeves, mainly because he’s the eldest in 3RACHA. If he falls, the group’s gonna fall with him. But today, seeing the pool of tears in his eyes, the raw emotions in his voice makes Changbin believe that he’s senselessly, wildly in love with you. He knows damn well that Chan would never let you slip away again.

“This is your chance, to prove to Y/N that you’re still the goofy, caring, dumbass Bang Chan that she has already fallen in love with, not only once, but twice.”

four. “Have you been hearing anything from Chan? He hasn’t called me for two months. Changbin and Jisung have been avoiding me like the plague too.” Woojin asks you with a questionable looking drink in his hand. Minho said he mixed the masterpiece with all of his blood, sweat, and tears. You don’t know how to take it, metaphorically, or literally because both options would make sense. You’re just fairly concerned for Woojin’s liver since he’s been attending too many parties, mainly for business but still, that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna stay away from alcohol.

So much for adulting.

“Not really,” you didn’t want to admit that Chan was ignoring your texts and calls before but it’s quite obvious now that he doesn’t want to talk to you. You didn’t think about it much at the beginning because everything must have been so hard for him in a foreign country where young talents are out there competing with each other like they’re in The Hunger Games. But daily conversations turned into weekly, and then monthly and then basically non-existent. No more ‘Good morning’, no more ‘How was your day?’, no more ‘I miss you’. None of that.

The kiss that day seems like it’s disintegrated into literal dust.

‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’ sounds like utter bullshit now and you’ve never felt so foolish for saying ‘I love you’ to someone you truly believe won’t take your heart and crush it. But Chan did just that. You spent lots of sleepless nights thinking, and bawling your eyes out. You felt so lost and tremendously hurt. You didn’t know what to do. But you soon figured that it’s okay, people aren’t supposed to know what to do in those kinds of situations. You just gotta figure it out by yourself. So wherever he may be, whatever he’s doing, you still hope that he’s happy. That’s all that matters.

Or maybe you’re just too tired to reach out to him again.

You reply with a lifeless smile, bracing yourself for the upcoming party that’s starting in less than an hour. “He hardly talks to me. He doesn’t even text me in full sentences anymore.” You shrug it off casually, ignoring the sound of your heart aching to focus on other stuff for the time being. “Maybe he’s just busy? You know how problematic the music industry is.”

“Being busy isn’t an excuse to ignore your loved ones, Y/N,” Woojin knits his brows together. “Mind you, I still come home to my wife at nine o’clock, every single day.”

You check the time and almost panic, but before you can form a proper sentence, someone’s already dragged you away from the scene, “Look after Jeongin for me! Got it?” You yell back at him only to receive a thumbs up with a grimace. Woojin is the CEO of a well-known IT firm, after all, no one’s gonna mess with Jeongin if he stays by his side. The last thing you want is your brother coming home sobbing his heart out just because some wonderbread doesn’t know when to keep their mouth shut.

“I’m like..” You trail off while tapping away on your phone. “—pretty much free tomorrow morning, right?”

Chaeyoung - your assistant frowns and stops you midway, smoothing out your baby hair. “Not quite, you can’t skip DBR at seven,” she asserts. “And the daily phone call with your dad- I mean, the CEO at half-past six as well.” It’s obvious that everyone wants a coffee in the morning and since it’s a common time to gather, it seems like DBR (or Daily Business Review) is a good idea to just have a meeting before the day starts. The rules are simple. The meeting can not last more than half an hour and to make sure, you all stand up. You talk about the night before, VIPs coming in, the forecast for the coming day and any common issues to the group. Then you all dismiss and go to work. This way, everyone is on the same page 24/7.

“Oh, and a meeting at three too, and also the Kims Are coming in fifteen minutes.” She checks her watch subconsciously and it reads [7:30p.m.]

“Right, right,” you close your eyes for a moment and let the information sink in, slightly taken aback by yourself that you forgot Jennie’s coming back from New Zealand. The party won’t start until eight, you can still spare fifteen minutes and chat with your friend before being pulled away into utterly unnecessary conversations. “I can’t believe I almost forgot Jen’s visiting us…” You murmur under your breath, “God, Chaeng, what would I do without you?”

Chaeyoung pushes your shoulder playfully, “You’d die, obviously.” She’s not necessarily wrong because if it weren’t for her to manage your shitty schedule, your life would become a fucking merry-go-round which makes you all nauseous and dizzy. As if you’re not being tossed around and fucked up enough.

“Hypothetically speaking, I can just hire another assistant and move on with my life,” you smile cheekily.

She follows you towards the front desk, where Lisa is too busy texting someone cute to focus on her main task: greeting people that she despises with her entire existence. “Well, hypothetically speaking, no one can replace me and you would never have the heart to do that anyway.” Again, you hate it when she’s right. And she’s always right. Because she’s Park Chaeyoung.

You put your phone away finally and ask her about your beige suit with matching high-waisted slacks. “How do I look?” Also, you’re never wearing heels again because you’ve learned not to torment your precious feet when you’re gonna be out and about, being dragged around like a rag doll. Woojin’s wedding taught you that.

Chaeyoung gives you the warmest smile, “Like a boss bitch,”

“You have to come with us to Bora Bora this summer! We just opened a summer resort there with a beach and spa services, it’s absolutely delightful! Very fitting for de-stressing, dare I say.”

“How convenient! Do you see these wrinkles? We were all exhausted after the flight from New York. And I’m stressing over how it’s impossible for my son to improve his English. How in the world is he gonna travel the world for business trips now?”

“Ew,” you automatically scrunch your nose at your stepmom’s conversation with the Senator’s wife. “If we’re gonna act like that when we’re their age, I’d rather jump off a cliff.” And Chaeyoung clears her throat awkwardly when she sees your mom waving you over, giving you a pat on your back. There goes your fifteen minutes of freedom.

You quickly fix the lapels of your blazer and muster a sickly sweet smile, just for the Senator’s wife. “Yes, mom?” Or in this case, ‘stepmom’ but you wouldn’t want it to be awkward for the both of them. She does treat you with nothing but kindness and generosity although you’re not her actual daughter.

“Honey,” you almost snort at the nickname. Honey is practically a bee’s vomit. So you don’t really see the point in calling people bee’s barf. Ain’t cool. “You must know that this is the Senator’s wife, she suggested that you and their son can perhaps—“

You cut her off sharply. “No,”

“Y/N, don’t be so rude,” she laughs nervously as the Senator’s wife wears an unreadable look on her face. As if she’s interested in your particular kind of demeanor like you’re a completely different species. She doesn’t seem to be mad or offended at all. “I’m sorry, you see, this girl can play hard to get from time to time…and—“

You elect to ignore every word that comes out of her mouth from this very moment. Not again with this bullshit. An arranged marriage is basically a living embodiment of your biggest nightmare. You can’t imagine being tied down to a person that you barely know just because of their social status or for the sake of mutual benefits. Not to mention, every guy in the circle is all the same anyway. Disrespectful, egotistical, and only show mild interest if the person they’re marrying at least has something to offer that’s related to cold, hard cash in the long run.

It feels like the world just stops spinning when you flutter your eyes upwards and make direct eye contact with him. He enters the front entrance in a full-on black tuxedo, black silk shirt tucked neatly into his pants, chestnut hair rather well-styled, and black dress shoes. The outfit looks like it was made for him, personally tailored to every detail of his body. You almost scowl and look away until you recognize that smile, those midnight orbs.

To your dismay, the Senator’s wife exclaims, “My goodness! I told him not to wear that specific shirt!” before excusing herself from the conversation.

“Uhm is that…”

“Oh yes! That’s their son, Jaemin. Felix used to go to the same kindergarten as him, I believe,” your stepmom explains calmly, watching how you’re slowly becoming interested in the Senator’s only son. So that explains the black Mercedes in front of Jeongin’s apartment. “He got sent to a private school in the UK after graduating from middle school but somehow, I don’t know how he still can’t speak fluently English. Maybe you can help—“

You quickly realize how fast the situation’s escalating and you must say, you’re not letting that happen. “Sorry mom, Jen’s here! I gotta go!” Learning to let Chan go is one thing, but getting yourself into an arranged marriage with another guy who cares about nothing but money is an absolutely torturous idea.

People change, they all do eventually. But sometimes they don’t. Certain things can never fluctuate despite the circumstances. For instance, Kim Jennie still pulls you into a bone-crushing hug like she always does the moment she spots you in the crowd. Her gummy smile didn’t change, her gestures, the way she walks with pride didn’t change and you highly doubt that she no longer sneaks cute boys into the house when her parents are conveniently abroad. But she definitely looks more mature the last time that you guys met in Paris.

“Wow, Jen,” you utter. “You look…good,” Tonight she’s wearing a white dress from Chanel, diamond earrings and bold red lipstick. And don’t even get you started on her ring, you’re pretty sure that it was a present from the brand themselves. She is the ambassador, after all, they would be more than happy to spoil her with their newest collections.

Jennie takes a look at your outfit, twirling you around before breaking into a fit of giggles. “Good? I look good? You look gorgeous! Look at you! Well, actually you look just fine in your PJs as well. Heck, you can even breathe in this thing, I can’t relate,” she beams and keeps on admiring you as if you’re her own life-sized Barbie doll. Baggy clothes can look good, she knows that now.

Jennie clings onto one of your arms and receives a glass of champagne from a waiter, smiling at him softly. “So, how are you enjoying the party, manager Lee?”

You threaten to spill alcohol on her fifteen thousand dollars dress but only proceed to roll your eyes because you value her money too much for the sake of being petty. “It’s kinda meh,” you make a face. “But you know, let’s just get it over with. And to be honest..I’m kind of sick of socializing with people that I don’t even like.”

“Oh really?” Jennie raises a brow curiously when she sees a certain someone in the midst of the chaotic party. “Someone seems to be interested in you though, that cutie over there…” She then motions towards the general direction of Na Jaemin, the person who you’ve been trying to avoid all night. “I think he fancies you. Been eyeing you up and down for the past ten minutes,”

Right, you also forgot that Jennie didn’t know about you and Chan.

“Actually—“

“My God! Did you see that? The Bangs are here!” She gasps and tries to tiptoe in order to get a closer look, allowing her heels to dig into her feet even more. You won’t blame her, the Bangs are basically the biggest developers in Korea. Real estate, investment, tons of things, tons of boring paperwork but you do respect them for what they do. “I heard their eldest son’s dating some up and coming artist, her exhibitions were quite successful, all big hits since last year. It’s mind-blowing!”

You pull your friend back in time when people are shoving each other before her white dress can be contaminated with the bubbly champagne. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to patch your lips together?”

“Damn, he looks fine,” your friend murmurs and has you roll your eyes for one too many times tonight already. “I’m not messing with you, look!” She grabs either side of your face and turns it sideways, towards the front entrance.

You feel like someone just kicked you to the curb and stepped on you, knocking the breath right out of your chest. It’s Chan, it’s really Chan. Navy tuxedo, brown hair styled neatly, he looks even more beautiful than the last time you’ve seen his face. Beside him, hand in hand is another girl. She has the most delicate features and probably the most angelic smile in this world. She’s looking at him all lovingly, the same look you gave him approximately a year ago when you thought that the kiss did mean something to him. Apparently, it didn’t. Now you feel like a paper bag being thrown away, forgotten in the corner, drifting through life like a haze.

Your heart is stuck in your throat, slowly crumbling into dust when you see how he smiles at her, the dimpled smile that you treasured with your entire heart. They look like they are meant to be. And yes, you wanted to see him again but not like this. It’s like karma’s trying to tell you that this is what you get for falling in love with Chan faster than a tick of a clock, for foolishly holding onto false hope. And your butt load of money doesn’t matter anymore because your everything is already being held in someone else’s arms.

Now you’re the one who’s left with a broken heart.

five. In the dead of the night, you no longer feel the sounds of your heart shattering into pieces. Chan’s just making it easier for you to forget him.

“Y/N?” You stay unresponsive at his voice calling out to you. Every cell, every muscle, every neuro inside your body is yelling at you to turn around and throw your arms around his neck. The willpower that you’re mustering to not do that right is impossibly terrifying. But you’re not giving in again, not this time. You won’t be able to piece your heart back together after a second heartbreak. “It’s been quite a while huh? Are you—“

You turn around with glossy eyes, tears threatening to spill any second. Chan’s words get caught dead in his throat upon seeing you on the verge of breaking down. It hurts more knowing that he’s the one who made you cry. “You should have told me..” Your voice cracks and it breaks Chan’s heart into a million pieces at how broken you are. “You should have told me if you wanted to cut it off sooner..” You smile bitterly with tears rolling down on either side of your cheek. You no longer care about how pathetic you may sound or look, you just want to be completely transparent with him.

Another thing that you hate about yourself: how you just let yourself go exposed and vulnerable right in front of his eyes. “What happened to ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’? Does our kiss that night mean nothing to you? Was I setting the bar too high? Was I…getting in your way?” You ask him between quiet sobs, not bothering to put on a fake smile anymore. You’re too exhausted for that anyway. “You didn’t even tell me..that you’re part of the Bangs family, like the Bangs family. What else are you hiding from me, Chan?”

Chan grabs you by the shoulders to hold you back firmly, eyes boarding into yours fiercely. His touch once made your heart weak, now you feel nothing but disgust when his fingertips graze past your clothed skin. “Y/N, listen to me. You don’t understand— she’s not—“

“Y/N!”

Chan snaps his head towards the owner of the voice and grimaces when he sees Jaemin waving at you from the other side of the room. You gotta be shitting me. Chan then looks over at you in disbelief, eyes almost popping out of their respective sockets. Out of all people, you’re dating Na Jaemin? The Senator’s son? Without letting him know? And you’re accusing him of hiding things from you when you’re also with someone new already? “You know,” you wipe your tears away and look him dead in the eye. “I’ve always thought that all the guys in my dad’s social circle were a bunch of ignorant jerks, but it turns out you’re the asshole.”

With that, you briskly walk away with your phone clutched in your hands, knuckles turning white as you bite down your tears. Chan’s gaze trails after your figure until you’re completely gone, falling into another man’s arms like it’s your safe place. Jaemin caresses your cheekbone and smiles at you. You return it too, bitterly. It was supposed to be Chan who makes you feel like the happiest woman in this world, not the one who takes your heart and crushes it into pieces. His heart breaks, again, and again, and again, and again until he no longer feels its presence beating inside his rib cage. There’s something else more than just distance between the both of you now, something that was never there in the first place. Little did you know, you’re not the only one with a broken heart after all.

“Jaemin right?” You sniffle when he lures you away from the party, away from the chaos, away from Chan. “Thank you, I can manage myself now.”

Jaemin shakes his head and speaks to you softly. “Nonsense. I’m staying here with you. The party sucks, but don’t take it personally.”

You chuckle with teary eyes, but you’ve determined not to cry again tonight, especially not in front of the Senator’s son. “Does my brother know that his tutor is the son of the Senator?” Jaemin shakes his head again, the warm smile never once leaves his lips. He gently wipes a single tear that unknowingly rolls down on your cheek and heat flares through your nostrils, a shade of coral scattered across your face. This is why you never cry in front of a stranger.

“There, there you crybaby,” he comforts you with a hand on your shoulder, the other pulling out a handkerchief to dab your tears away. “Who knows the manager of the Carpe Diem Hotel is such a softie. I heard from the staff that you’re fucking scary when someone gets on your bad side.”

“Then don’t get on my bad side,” you roll your eyes in annoyance. “But God, I really can’t blame them. Our people are so posh, and snobby—“

“We’re basically snoshy,” he finishes your sentence and laughs. “Your brother tells me that all the time, if only he knew about my family. He’s most likely gonna murder me in my sleep.”

You roll your eyes, pushing his hand away slightly. “This is why we’ll never get a happy ending of our own. What’s the point of owning all the dollar bills when we’re just sad motherfuckers? And people wonder why we all prefer one night stands. I fucking beg to differ. Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him that night. Maybe I was nothing but an instant filler for his non-existent love life. ‘Do you still want my phone number?’ He didn’t even bother texting me anymore! Bullshit!”

Jaemin doesn’t know you very well but by the looks of it, you’re definitely not the type to lash out on someone very often. You must have been furious with that Chan guy because whatever he’s done to you, shit must have stung. Because you still look at him with those eyes. Eyes of those who are madly in love. He can’t change that.

“Y/N,” he pulls you into a hug and rubs little circles on your back as an attempt to soothe your aching heart. “Listen, it’s okay if he’s not the one. He might be the wrong person at the right time for all I know. And your soulmate is probably taking their sweet ass time because they are completely oblivious about your existence. But they will be there for you, they will, I promise. You know damn well how life likes to toss us around right? Love is patient, love is kind. And it will come one day.”

You snicker and hug him back, grateful for how he���s already consoling you although you’ve only met twice. Maybe he isn’t like the other boys in the same circle, maybe he’s different even when he dresses the same and looks the same. “Cliché sayings are cliché for a reason, Jaemin,” you laugh before pulling away, staring into his starry eyes.

“I know I know,” he squishes your cheeks together and chuckles. “But hey, sometimes they’re not wrong either. Tell you what though, I was so close to decking that guy in the face back there but I didn’t want to go all Alpha Apeshit and appeared as a douchebag then get blood on his goddamn Tom Ford. Just throwing that out there in case it does help you feel better.”

You can feel your tear-stained cheeks cool against the night breeze. The balcony seems to be the only place that you can seek calmness in, mainly because there’s no alcohol and no one to push you from one boring conversation to another with the same topics. Your people are basically repeating themselves over and over again about money and arranged marriages which you’re not very interested in so yes, you don’t see the purpose of throwing parties that only consist of the top 1%. You lean your back against the railings and watch the party from afar, letting the background chatters sink in. Soon this whole place will be within your grasp along with many others, but you’re afraid that you’ll be lost in your own empire.

“No offense,” you turn back to him and smile. “I didn’t think you’d be able to throw a punch at all.”

Jaemin makes a face, “I’m not like those wonderbreads over there,” then smirks devilishly. “But I’ll never be one’s knight in shining armor. Life just teaches me things that our people don’t. For example, living in a mansion won’t teach you how to throw or take a proper punch. Also, wear black because you’ll never know whose blood is gonna be on there.”

“So you’re saying that being sent to boarding school is the best thing that’s ever happened in your life?”

“Not quite,” he winks. “The best thing that’s ever happened in my life is to have the pleasure of meeting you.”

You shove his chest and laugh wholeheartedly, it feels nice to talk to someone like this. “Don’t flirt with me and find yourself another trophy out there, I’m too bitchy to fit in with those chicks.” You jerk your head towards the girls who are all dressed up in fancy dresses and heavy jewelry, finding amusement in how they’re all eyeing Jaemin up and down like he’s a prettier version of an ATM. “And also, what do you expect? You have the look, the money, know how to kick someone’s ass. That’s more than what a trophy wife needs.”

Jaemin scratches his neck sheepishly. “I don’t know how to take that but thank you, you look better than all of them honestly. I don’t know why women choose to suffocate themselves in a dress and torment their feet just to attract guys with thick wallets like me. I think I’ll need to settle down sooner or later and I’m not planning on doing that with a brat who only sees how many dollar signs I can afford on Yelp.” He sighs in pure frustration and a puff of cold air escapes his lips.

“Haha very funny, Na Jaemin is adulting like how the Senator’s son should be in his early 20s,” you joke. “And no, I’m not gonna make fun of you for that. You want me to pinpoint where we are right now? Adulthood.”

“No! I’m being serious!”

“Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“Let me take you on a date and prove it.”

“You’re drunk,” you laugh nervously. But suddenly he inches in closer and your breath hitches in your throat. Nope. He’s dead-ass serious. “You’re being fucking serious, aren’t you?”

Jaemin brings your hand up and presses a small kiss on your knuckles, “See you around, manager Lee.” before sliding away with ease, leaving you blushing so furiously that you almost forgot your heart was broken that night.

six. While you feel like you’re about to have a heart attack because of a date, Kuma - Jennie’s Pomeranian is complaining to you with his eyes about his first world problems aka, Jennie leaving his favorite toy back in New Zealand. “Yes, yes, I get that it’s absolutely unforgivable of her to do that.” You acknowledge and nod absentmindedly, petting him gently. “If anything, I can do you a favor and douse one of her favorite dresses in pickle juice.”

“But also what?” You tilt your head slightly, “She what?! She insulted your favorite tuna bites?! She’s a witch! Burn her!”

“I can’t stand the goddamn smell, that’s all.”Jennie glares at you while hauling her suitcases out of the closet. “You dramatic, bitchy, ungrateful ass.”

“Jen, it’s just a dinner date.”

Jennie dodges your eye roll and proceeds to rummage through one of her ten suitcases, throwing dresses and bodysuits all over the floor. She’s lucky the suite has plenty of extra space or you won’t be able to see the floor in the next fifteen minutes for all you know. Kim Jennie goes ham on picking out clothes for her favorite bitches because not only is she one of the most acclaimed actresses but she’s also a fashion icon, influencer, and Chanel’s one and only darling. Hence, knowing that you’re going on a date with the dress code: formal; she freaked out and dragged you all the way from your house to the hotel that she’s staying in.

You facepalm yourself onto the extra king-size bed and sighs into the soft blanket. Yeah, that’s how rich the Kims are. Not king-size, but extra king-size that can fit at least four people but still have extra leg space. You know where to have your girls’ night this weekend now because you’d rather not have Ryujin whip your ass for bringing friends over.

Your groan grows louder when you keep hearing Jennie repeats “I’m a genius, a fucking genius!” to herself over and over again until she stops. And that’s when you decide to push yourself off the bed carefully to not wrinkle your clothes. “Look at this baby!” She holds up a long, bedazzled gown with spaghetti straps. Gives you a very 70s vibe but you’re not mad at it, you think you might be able to pull it off. “Listen, if you don’t look good in this, I’ll call Chanel and drop it as a flop, got it?”

Wow, Chanel is hanging on the edge of flopping by a strand of hair just because of you. The pressure’s on.

Jennie shoves you into the ridiculous-sized bathroom with marble floor and all, she’s definitely not letting you wear one of your blazers today. “Knock knock,” she impatiently leans against the door after what seems like ten minutes. But all Jennie’s met with is dead silence, she’s starting to get worried now. “Y/N, you good?”

You barge out of the bathroom with a panicked expression, shrieking. “Kim Jennie what were you thinking?!” When she gives you a what-do-you-mean look, you mentally groan to yourself and are kind of ready to call the date off. You’re not going out looking like this. “It’s 64 degrees outside and you’re making me wear this?!” You do a full 360 turn to only to show her the awfully low cut on the back of the dress, and she immediately claps happily like a seal. God, what is wrong with your friend?

“Stunning! Absolutely stunning!” Jennie nods to herself like the evil mad mind genius that she is. “You’re pretty tolerant, so I think it’s not gonna be a problem.”

“Do I have a say in this?” You eye her in defeat when she helps you on a dainty necklace and a pair of silver earrings.

Jennie puts her hands on her hips and almost laughs, admiring you like a piece of art, a creation that she will forever keep in her heart. “What makes you think so?” And off to the date, you go.

Jaemin picks you up not long after, wearing a full-on white suit in his black Mercedes. It’s not hard to guess that it’s his favorite. Since the party from last week, both of you have been texting and FaceTiming non-stop, it almost feels like he’s making up for the lost time that Chan’s wasted. For the Senator’s son, he’s surprisingly approachable, very quirky but charming at the same time. Jaemin does give an effort to make you laugh every time he sends you the same memes over and over again. Hey, it’s not your fault his humor is impeccable.

But being one of the Elite, you can’t blame him for wanting to do it the old-fashioned way. Fancy restaurant, having waiters drape white napkins over your lap, cheesy classical music in the background and the typical candles to set the romantic atmosphere. The place is quite busy too, some ladies in their forties are wheezing in helpless laughter as a waitress secretly shoots them dirty looks while a group of businessmen is eating in silence, an old couple is feeding each other in the corner and a younger couple that you don’t really pay attention to since they’re too far away. Sometimes you wonder what that feels like, to have someone by your side forever.

Maybe forever is just not meant for you.

Forever might not be for you, but going on a date feels like a fresh breeze passing by after so much pain and agony. Jaemin always tries to make you feel as comfortable as possible but still manages to make you laugh until your stomach hurts and tears are evident in the corners of your eyes. He’s not one of those guys who’s not used to hearing the word ‘no’ and never pushes your boundaries. But the feeling’s not there, it’s just not there at all and you wish that it was. You can’t play along then end up breaking his heart later on. No one deserves going through that, not even the ones who lost your trust.

“Okay..” Jaemin peels his eyes away from his crème brûlée’s when you set your fork down. “Just to be clear, I don’t hate you but I would never date you.” And he immediately chokes on his big bite, coughing furiously into the white napkin. You’re very straight to the point, he appreciates that, but still, ouch.

“Tell me three valid reasons why I should stop going after your heart.”

“One, I don’t wanna break your heart. Two, I don’t want you to break mine. And three, I just threw it in the trash.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes rather dramatically, holding back a lighthearted chuckle. “So what? You got your heart broken by some bastard and now you’re gonna distance yourself from everything that’s related to ‘love’? Do you really want to spend the rest of your life like this? Alone? In your giant mansion with your butt load of money?”

“Yes,” you nod without hesitation, trying to ignore the bitter feeling that’s rising in your throat. “And technically I can adopt as many puppies as I want to.”

“Fair enough,” he sighs and moves a bit to the side. “There’s your man, twelve o’clock.”

You feel like you would personally gouge your eyes out of the sockets the moment they land on Chan and his current girlfriend at the opposite table if you weren’t sane enough for a Michelin-rated restaurant. They’re both wearing black, laughing and talking with each other like they’re the only beings left in this world. You wonder if fate could be a bit more generous to you, just a little bit, then would you be there with Chan instead? You’ve told yourself one too many times not to dwell on the past but like always, you never learn. And you know that you’re dumb but you still don’t get why fate forces two people to meet each other knowing damn well that one of them is gonna leave the other behind.

But this time when you look more closely, his smile looks somewhat forced and the dark circles under his eyes have been darkened by time. He looks so tired and drained but still keeps up the smile for his date. A pang of guilt hits you hard when you realize that you should have listened to what he had to say at the party. He doesn’t look happy, that’s what ticks you off.

Chan subconsciously flickers his eyes upwards and meets yours, completely frozen in his spot like a statue. His smile falters, eyes going wide from surprise, utterly, undeniably speechless. It’s not easy to read what’s going on in his mind but you’re positive that he doesn’t seem to expect to see you in this kind of situation. He quickly averts his gaze back onto the other girl, laughing nervously so that she won’t turn around and accidentally see you. Your heart unknowingly sinks to the pit of your stomach.

“It shouldn’t be like this,” you never knew that you’ve been crying until Jaemin gently wipes your tears away with his handkerchief, his eyes softening at your sobbing form. “But it is what it is.”

seven. Chan quickly calls in a cab for his date after sliding his credit card across the counter. He grimaces slightly when she presses a goodbye kiss on his cheek, and then waves her off when she enters the taxi. After receiving his bill, Chan pushes himself through the busy waiters and waitresses, mumbling small “sorry” along the way until his feet lead him to the long flight of stairs.

And he sees you standing there with your back against him, fiddling with your fingers nervously. He knows you’ve never been good at hiding how awkward you are so it gives him a tiny bit of hope when he finds out he still has this kind of effect on you. But when he takes a few more steps forwards, his jaw almost drops to the floor when he can finally get a closer look at your dress.

Chan’s never seen you in a dress before, but he believes that you have the ability to pull off anything. He’s not wrong after all. The dress hugs your figure perfectly and in the most flattering way, leaving him in complete awe. But you’d never choose a dress, even when it’s a formal dinner. Goddamn, that kid is one lucky son of a bitch, he mentally curses.

You meet Chan once again on a balcony, but tonight you’re met with a sky without stars. It seems like they can’t even muster the courage to see where this conversation is gonna go.

“What’s her name?” You ask breathlessly, still not willing to make direct eye contact with him.

Chan inhales deeply, and exhales, “Her name is Eunji. Apparently, our families had an agreement that we’re gonna be engaged once we reached a certain age. I’m so sorry for shutting you out without a proper explanation, I really am. I’m such an asshole.”

You finally can look at him without getting all teary-eyed, your lips trembling. “It’s alright,” then you quickly look away to avoid any awkwardness. “You guys look good together, I’m happy for you both.” And when Chan doesn’t say anything, you decide to ask him softly. “But are you?”

He buries his face into the palms of his hands and sighs heavily. “I- I don’t know, I just don’t want to let them down. And I tried so hard to tell them that I already had someone else but I’m just scared that—“

“That they won’t accept me because you didn’t know that I do in fact, make cold, hard cash?” You stare deeply into the distance and laugh humorlessly. “After all those years, I had no idea, no fucking idea that you were Christopher Bang, like the Christopher Bang, the one who’s supposed to take over the family’s business, the most eligible bachelor in the country.”

Chan grabs you by the shoulders, catching you off guard when your noses are barely touching, his warm breath fanning your face. “Speak for yourself. You’ve never even told me that you were Felix’s stepsister. All those years of college, and I only know that you’re the manager of the Carpe Diem Hotel now. And why are you dating the Senator’s son again? Last time I checked, you’re still leaving me messages even when I went MIA or put the phone on silent all the time.”

“I can date whoever I want to,” you try to shove his arms away but his grip only gets tighter. “And no shit, you know I’m not into guys like that. We’re not dating, he offered me dinner after seeing me so miserable at the party.”

And you quickly assert with a fake smile. “But that’s not the point, is it? Let me guess, if I were not some daughter of the CEO of the biggest hotel chain in the country, then you would never tell your parents about me, would you? You’d rather marry Eunji so that your grandparents won’t potentially disown you instead.”

Chan shakes his head profusely because he could never, would never, can never, and will never trade you for anything else in this world. “No, you don’t understand- I- just- just give me some time and-“ He loves you too much to the point that his heart bleeds a bit whenever you catch his gaze from across the table and return to your conversation with Jaemin, giggling and laughing at his lame jokes like nothing’s ever happened. But his biggest problem here, is how can he convey his love to you once again when you’ve already despised him with every single cell inside your body?

You narrow your eyes at him, slightly amused by how he’s stuttering. “And?”

“Let me make it up to you,” he tells you after running a hand through his brown locks. “Come with my family on a cruise trip next month in Singapore. I’ll prove myself to you and do everything in my power to get your trust back. Even if things can never be the same again. I can’t lose you, I won’t let you go this time. Bring whoever as your plus-one, just not that kid…I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“How are you so sure that you’re not gonna break my heart again?”

Chan says breathlessly and goosebumps automatically bubble up on your skin at his words, “I’m not. Because I know that no matter how many times I stupidly, or impulsively hurt you, you will always stay. And I’ll always be there to gather the broken pieces as if you’ve never felt the pain before.”

A long, muffled silence occurs between both of you. You quickly look away after a good ten seconds of making eye contact with Chan. He’s having that kind of effect on you like how he used to and you’re determined not to fall again. You’d hate to have your heart broken twice by the same person. “You do know that we wouldn’t have worked out anyway right?”

Chan doesn’t say anything, instead, he turns around and calls a ride for you. His eyes look stormy that night, impossible to read as if there are so many things on his mind at the same time to the point that his head becomes cloudy and nothing makes sense anymore. He doesn’t even wave you goodbye when you get inside the car but his gaze never leaves your figure until it’s completely gone in the distance.

You know that it’s something more than just love because your feelings for Chan are still there even when he’s not. You’re just far too busy being depressed inside your bedroom, under your fuzzy blanket to notice them. Now they’re back, again, for the third time, much, much stronger and more powerful. You don’t know whether this is hazing because falling for someone more than twice just sounds unhealthy for you, a person who lives off donuts for two weeks straight because you need the push of the sugar crush in order to avoid caffeine. Chan just stepped into your life like how he did about three hundred and sixty-five days ago and completely broke down the fort you were trying to build.

Call you an idiot, but is it bad to think that he’s not planning on leaving any time soon?

eight. You hate cruises for plenty of reasons, and one of them being, not surprisingly, a cruise is basically a hotel on water. The concept of a hotel floating on the water makes it a trillion times cooler and unnecessarily overrated. In your defense, having a massage or partying ‘til dawn while not knowing when you’re gonna drown to your imminent death is petrifying. Maybe you’re just bitter about the fact that people don’t appreciate normal hotels enough, because they really don’t.

Okay, if you have to choose one thing not to hate on a cruise, then it’s probably the mini theatre that Chan personally demanded for his chaotic group of friends. Hey, privileged people need some wholesome, chill times with friends too.

But the fact that almost everyone has already seen Stranger Things makes you feel more like a grandma than you already are. These are the times where you rarely choose to sit next to Jisung because you’re both on the same boat for once. Other times, you’re just bickering like the reincarnations of every movie where the main characters constantly want to put the other’s head on a chopping block but end up falling in love anyway; except, you will never fall in love with Jisung. That’s so creepy on so many levels.

Creepier than whatever the fuck of a demonic image that Hyunjin’s about to show you, being the pest that he is. “We have four votes for Stranger Things and four votes for Spider-Man: Far from home,” he announces in that irritating voice of his while hogging the whole bowl of popcorn to himself. “So what’s it gonna be, Han? Choose wisely, my friend,”

Jisung sips on his Coke and points his index finger at his roommate as if he’s accusing Hyunjin of murdering someone, “I’m with Y/N, because screw you,” he’s not entirely wrong because, without a doubt, Jisung’s soul is gonna detach itself from his body after the first episode. “And if Chan were here, he’d agree with me,”

“Nope,” Chan conveniently steps in when you’re about to do a fist bump with Jisung, taking the seat on your right despite plenty of other (about twenty-six) empty seats. “We’re watching Stranger Things, it’s been almost thirty minutes and all you guys have been doing is aiming at each other’s throat,” he whips out a small remote from his pocket and clicks the ‘play’ button without anyone’s consent. He has no right to do that! You don’t think you’ll ever forgive him after this.

Chill time isn’t so wholesome anymore.

So basically the whole plot is about a boy going missing, flipping a whole town from Indiana upside down. Everyone spends days and nights, desperately trying to find him until one day, a little girl with a shaved head comes into the story and makes the entirety of the movie that much weirder. And more horror-worthy when she’s being chased by ‘bad guys’. This is another reason why you hate Chan: he can’t be bothered about what he’s watching because he’s only here for good food. And probably your suffering. But mostly just good food.

Actually, it might be the other one because you can clearly see that stupid grin on his face when you pull your hood low enough to cover half of your eyes so that you won’t be potentially haunted at night by whatever’s ready to pop on screen. And Jisung’s already clinging onto one of your arms like his life depends on it, legs quivering in his boots. You really don’t wanna accidentally elbow him in the face when there’s an inevitable jump scare.

“Chan, you sadist, I hope you’re happy for doing this to me,” you sneer at him with gritted teeth, frustrated about the fact that you can’t singlehandedly feed him to the sharks.

Chan leans in slyly, lips dangerously close to your ear. “That’s for you ogling Tom Holland,”

Jisung automatically gasps scandalously, once again opening that useless mouth of his and decides to put you on trial. “A compromise was almost made, Y/N you monster!” (Actually no, he’d never survive law school). Jisung wiggles himself out of his seat faster than a lightning bolt and snuggles closely next to Woojin, who’s staring at the screen like someone’s forcing him to watch one of the worst pantomimes to ever exist. Great, now you’re stuck with Chan in the very front seat, having no choice to hold onto him like he’s your last option before falling into your impending misery in the next sixty minutes.

This asshole is really—

The moment you’re ready to pour a paper cup full of Sprite over his head, Jisung and Hyunjin just happen to whimper and yelp at the same time, with the same amount of awfully loud volume, spilling their own endless string of curse words with the same length while holding onto whoever’s lucky enough to sit next to them. So naturally, you stupidly let your guard down and cower like a child watching Snow White for the very first time and being absolutely terrified of the ugly witch. You’re far too busy thinking of ways to bury Hyunjin alive to realize that you’ve unknowingly pulled yourself closer to Chan and hid your face in his chest.

“Hwang Hyunjin you fucking moron!” Jisung yells at the top of his lungs when another demonic scene occurs, sending actual chills down his spine. He almost misses the feeling of still having a vendetta with his friend back in the good old high school days when they’re still wrestling each other every two minutes. Also, you’ve never felt this bad for Jisung (or even related to him) in a fairly long time, because… same.

Hyunjin can officially kiss your Jeep goodbye because you’ll never let him borrow it again. That idiot.

“You’re such a baby,” Chan comments and purposely cuts off your trains of thoughts so that you can peel yourself off him and look straight into the screen again, at the wrong time.

“I’m not your baby—“

You hiss in panic and throw yourself onto him again, trying to calm yourself by listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat and persistent pace of breathing. You’re already mentally apologizing to Jennie because you’re 75% sure that she’s not gonna be able to sleep with you sticking to her side like a jellyfish. There was this one time you all watched The Conjuring because Jisoo insisted so much and except for her and Lisa, no one got a wink of sleep that night so you’re not sure how you’re gonna survive this when there’s no pillow or blanket to protect you from all of the horrifying sound effects and imageries.

Chan secretly bumps his fist with Jeongin in the back, who’s a little bit too occupied with Hyunjin crushing his bones every two seconds. The perks of hitting on a friend’s sister. Works like a charm, he smirks internally. “Little Y/N is scared, how precious,” he looks down at you, and a smile blooms on his lips, enjoying the blissful feeling of having you in his embrace again.

“I am not scared!” You still can’t learn to accept that sometimes, admitting to your defeat is better for your own good.

“Then why won’t you look at the screen then?”

“Because- oh my God, what the hell was that?!”

“It’s okay to admit that you’re scared, I can protect you,” Chan boasts with his chin high up. And you’d love to blush at his affectionate words right now, really. Only if he didn’t quickly jump into conclusion because of your crush on Tom Holland and chose the movie in the span of a split second.

“Christopher, this isn’t funny!”

“Well, I certainly didn’t try to insult you in any means at all, ma’am. I don’t see what’s the problem here,” he singsongs, gently draping an arm around your shoulders. This time, he’s glad that you didn’t end up punching him in the gut.

“Shut the fuck— Jesus Christ!” You screech when the demonic image keeps flashing in your mind, driving your head around in circles. “Chan, I swear to God, you’ll regret—“ you don’t even bother to finish your sentence and have no choice to hold onto him like he’s your only source of life, without him, you’ll soon disintegrate into fine dust and slip away easily. If Lisa was here, she would record the whole thing and play it on the slideshow of videos that she’s been preparing for your upcoming birthday. Thank God she’s playing beer pong with BamBam somewhere on the second floor.

That sounds so melodramatic but it’s not necessarily wrong. Chan still has that same sense of comfort whenever your skin comes in contact with his, even when it’s a thin layer of fabric away, you can still feel how badly it burns like a reminder for you that he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. Nothing’s going to change that, your intuition has told you before but you elect to ignore it. You’re starting to realize that you let Chan into your life again just like that, let him tear down your walls, and lit your heart on fire.

But what you don’t know is that his heart is still beating vigorously in his chest cavity for you, after all this time. His one and only.

“Hey, hey,” he tells you softly.

“What? Don’t make me look, I don’t wanna see it, I don’t wanna hear it either, I’m scared okay just don’t—”

“No, Y/N, look at me,” Chan chuckles and takes your face in his hands, forcing you to stare into his starry eyes. All you can see is an entire cosmos, more wondrous and beautiful than everything you’ve ever seen. He shines like he owns the entire universe in his existence, glowing from within and leaves you utterly speechless. Your head starts to become fuzzy and your heart dips when you realize how terribly close you are to him.

Chan takes your head and gently places it on the left side of his chest, smiling. “Can you hear that? It’s your fault, yeah, you did that to me,” The calm rhythm of his heart cancels everything out; all you can see is him, and all you can hear is his heartbeat. You spend approximately one second debating whether you should kiss him and you hate every moment of that one single second, you dread every nanosecond of it.

“Are you still afraid?” He whispers and you shake your head almost immediately without replying with what’s in your head. Like no shit, you’re more than just petrified right now, this is by far, one of the scariest, most frightening, and most nerve-racking decisions you’ve ever made in your life.

At that moment, it feels as if you’re standing on the edge of a cliff with him by your side. And you do exactly what he’s asking you to because it’s the only thing that you can do.

You jump.

nine. Weirdly enough, you miss college.

You miss those days where you had to finish the entirety of your morning routine in a span of five minutes so that you could be out the door and not miss the bus. You miss those moments where you had to skip two steps at a time on the longass flight of stairs just so your professor wouldn’t have another excuse to yell at you other than the overdue assignments.

You also miss college parties, not because they’re ‘lit’ but because things were simpler back then. People come, drink, get wasted, fight someone (or make out with someone), and then go home. Actually, no, they usually make out first thing first in the front porch because college students don’t give two fucks about their dignity and decency. You definitely didn’t miss that. And also those times where you ogled Chan during lunch breaks or when you both took the usual 4419 to college on a daily basis.

Everything gets a little more nostalgic when Minho slides your usual mojito across the counter and gives you that cat-like smile of his. Somehow, it makes you wanna hug him and bite his head off at the same time but you’re not wasted enough for that yet. You just need to get your mind off Chan when he’s too busy being tormented by his own family.

“Zero sips and you’re already dreaming about Chan? Gee, if I’m not mistaken then you’re so in love with him, manager Lee,” Minho is in his element, surrounded by good music and alcohol. In which, there’s no point in arguing with him anyway because you’re basically vulnerable and defenseless when everywhere you go, you see Chan’s face.

You down half of the mojito in one go and the bartender in front of you almost staggers backward from utter shock. Normally, you’d be snapping back at him with a witty retort instead of being all sappy and dreamy like this. This is not good. “My my, you’re really thinking about him, aren’t you? So tell me, how does that feel? To be deeply in love with another human being,” he leans forward to approach you, propping his head up with his hands. You murmur a small “bullshit” and proceed to toss your head back for a bit, shaking the weariness away.

“Listen, I might be heartless and all but when I accidentally put Tabasco into Jisung’s orange juice instead of honey the other day, I did actually feel bad about it. I felt a rush of empathy for a split second there,” Minho muses when he sees the corners of your lips curl upwards, stretching into a small grin. “It was wild, and then I just thought; is this what it feels like…to be a decent human being? Edgy, I know.”

You laugh dryly with boredom glinting in your eyes. “You know, if you’re going to distract me from thinking about Chan, at least be good at it,” his mouth drops open at your statement, completely gobsmacked. Oh, how the tables have turned. He’s never felt so defeated and useless before. Usually, he’s the one who makes others speechless. It’s not hard to tell that he hates it when everything just flips upside down.

“Bitch please,” Minho says with puckered lips. “Even if I spiked your drink, you’d still repeat his name in your dream like a mantra because you’re so fucking whipped for him,” he stops for a while to train his undivided attention on the Tequila Sunrise for Jisung who’s already smashed after two beers. He can really use some counseling, Minho ponders. “And you wouldn’t kiss Chan back if you hated him, gotta love stupid feelings that you can’t even explain for yourself, am I right?”

You take another sip of your drink and exhale, staring into his sharp eyes. “Excuse me, who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Lee Minho, genius, dancer, fashion icon by day, party animal by night, personal counselor,” he holds back the urge to slap you across the face with Felix’s Gucci slippers and instead, musters the sweetest smile. Being a bartender and a potential alcoholic at the same time definitely doesn’t help because he wishes he could just chug a whole bottle of vodka before you complain to him about your miserable love life. “I believe I’m qualified enough to give you some solid advice. So shut up and listen to me—“

“—I’m trying! But Minho, what if I’m the delusional one? What if he just wanted a fresh start so that we wouldn’t be so awkward towards each other? A kiss can’t possibly mean something. I mean, if you consider our New Year’s kiss, it meant so much to me but I don’t know if—“

And now, Lee Minho, self-proclaimed, genius, dancer, fashion icon by day, party animal by night, personal counselor; doesn’t have the slightest earthly idea of what the hell he should do. God, serious relationships are so fucking complicated to the point that his brain is yelling for retirement. Usually, he just poisons his friends with a dose of some common sense and solid logic to knock them back to reality in order to figure out whatever they’re going through. But this time, he thinks he should just let you fall further and further until Chan catches you instead.

Now that he’s thinking about it. Chan definitely didn’t pay him enough to be the bartender and a personal therapist for the love of his life.

“Seems like you’re not enjoying the party,” you instantly turn around because you can realize the owner of the voice in the matter of a split second. The moment Chan’s eyes are locked with yours, your heart immediately jumps up to your throat and then drops back down to your chest. If only this was because of the mojito, you’d feel better about it somehow but unfortunately, Minho gave you a non-alcoholic one today.

You can tell that he’s already hammered by the smell of alcohol when his warm breath brushes over your nose and how his cheeks are redder than usual. Minho quickly excuses himself from the scene to save himself from witnessing a mediocre, drunk confession session. And also because people are starting to pour in by the second, so the bar will probably be overpopulated in the next ten minutes or so. It’s downright a college party again except for the fact that everyone is floating on water but still, alcohol-thirsty pigs are still pigs. Everyone’s sloppy and lightheaded to the point that you’re already hearing the janitors crying themselves to sleep tonight.

“I’m enjoying it more than you if you couldn’t tell already,” your face morphs into a frown when Chan giggles and stumbles around like a madman. He would have facepalmed himself onto the marble counter with various bottles that probably cost more than one of his cars combined and made a scene if it weren’t for your hands steadying the blades of his shoulders. The warmth of your fingers radiate through his denim jacket and sinks into his skin, making his head a little fuzzy while you’re wondering how the fuck did he get this batshit drunk when Minho was with you the whole time.

“What the hell did you have?”

“I don’t know, BamBam asked me to try out some of his new cocktail recipes,” Chan hiccups and allows you to fling one of his arms over your shoulders. “Guess I didn’t consider dinner with my family afterward. Mom said I should just get some rest but I was thinking of you, so voila, I’m here now,” he gives you that signature boyish grin of his that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. But this time, your frown just grows deeper because since when did BamBam know how to make cocktails? And almost knocked Chan out too? You know why you should just stick to Minho’s mojito now.

Your eyes widen in panic as Chan almost trips over your foot when Hyunjin accidentally bumps into his back. “Oh Y/N, I’ve been looking for you,” the younger boy tells you with a Margarita in his hand, curiosity laced in his eyes. “No, scratch that, actually, some guy called Jaemin is looking for you,” Hyunjin then leans closer to a very-shocked-looking you and tries to shout over the loud music. “Who is that guy anyway? I heard rumors going around that he’s the Senator’s son or—“

Even though Chan’s not very sober at the moment and all he can hear is “some guy” and “the Senator’s son”, he knows that he needs to get you out of here as soon as possible. That bastard, Chan thought he’s already eliminated him from the guest list. Without a second thought, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you away from Hyunjin although he’s not the real threat here, piloting you through the sweaty bodies grinding against each other to the EDM music in the background. He was gonna take up the DJ duty tonight but really…is he gonna let you have another encounter with Na Jaemin? Yeah, he thought so too.

Before you can even register the whole situation, Chan’s already backed you up against a wall in his bedroom, a hand over your mouth with the other on the small of your back. Time seems to stop when you see the golden flecks in his eyes, floating softly in his nebula, and you’re absolutely, definitely, totally falling for him all over again. He’s so incredibly beautiful it leaves you moonstruck, wondering how can God be so unfair to make Chan look better than you even when he’s wasted.

Everything starts moving once again when a series of “have you seen Y/N?” echoes through the hallway and you can physically feel Chan tighten his grip on your body, jaw clenching too much that it might hurt. You know that voice all too well; Na Jaemin is here. And he’s looking for you. But you can care less right now because your heart automatically does a flip when Chan makes direct eye contact with you, his index finger hovering over his lips.

“Y/N, I need to tell–“

But this is not the time to fawn over how good he looks, you tell yourself with such determination.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” you help Chan walk over to his king-size bed, his limbs wobbly and unstable. After a solid minute of struggling and panting, you finally have Chan laying on the bed, legs dangling off the edge. While you’re too busy unfolding his blanket, he’s murmuring gibberish that you can’t quite, choosing to ignore it like how you’ve ignored Woojin snoring at two in the morning during a camping trip. “Chan,” you shake his shoulders slightly. “You’re gonna fall flat on your face if you sleep like this,”

You hiss through gritted teeth helplessly. “Chan!” But he doesn’t even move a single muscle. “You idiot, why did you agree to drink all of those cocktails?” You’re going to rip BamBam’s head off of his neck next time with your bare hands, it’s on. “Chan!” Your last attempt of waking him up fails miserably when he scrunches his nose a little, then proceeds to move on with his slumber.

Yeah, he’s definitely gone.

Or not.

Just when you’re about to give up and leave him as he is, Chan grabs you by the wrist and pulls you flush against his chest, heart thundering more vigorously than ever. He easily rolls the both of you to the side with no effort, only to get a better grip of your waist, his breath tickling your nose. At the suddenly close proximity, you can take a closer look at his long lashes that framed his eyes perfectly, his tall nose and his plump lips. Chan looks so ethereal and otherworldly that you wonder what it feels like to run your hands through his hair, dance your fingers against his jawline and press your lips against his.

But you also notice the bags under his eyes and how his brows are slightly knitted together. He doesn’t seem to be doing a great job at taking care of himself after all and it makes your heartache knowing that he didn’t have any other choice. It’s no one’s fault, really, though, in scenarios like this, people would love to point fingers and make assumptions out of something that they don’t even know. Falling in love with Chan for the third time can be the best thing that’s ever happened to you or it will eventually push you off a cliff, straight into a downward spiral.

Whatever the consequences are, you’d never trade him for anything in this world. Even if it means getting your heart broken all over again. You’re willing to walk through fire and step on thorns just to be by his side again. But at the same time, you’re not sure if he feels the same because if not, you’ll be left with nothing. Maybe he’ll forget all of this in the morning. Maybe it’s never meant to happen anyway.

Chan suddenly pulls you in more and his lips are terribly close to your flesh, your eyes going wide in panic. Moments later, soft snores escape his mouth as his chest heaves up and down in a calm rhythm. It reminds you of when he hugs you in the theatre, embarrassment soon flares through your nostrils and sprinkle a shade of coral on the apples of your cheeks. You can’t help but smile, arms snaking around his firm waistline.

Chan hugs you so tightly that you blindly believe that he needs you. As if it’s his way of saying “stay, it makes me feel at ease that you’re right here, in my arms again”. No one has ever really needed you. As sad as it sounds, your family can still move on with life just fine even when you’re not there. Your friends have their own jobs and other relationships as well, they don’t actually need you. You’ve never felt anything quite like this before, it’s a little bit frightening but also a little bit tempting.

Yep, you think to yourself. I’m done for.

Goddamnit BamBam.

ten. Chan groans loudly when the early daylight hits him like a truck, knocking him out of his semi-unconscious state. Hangovers still hit him hard, but this time, shit hurts way worse because someone still has a lot to learn as a mixologist. He smells like alcohol, probably looks like trash, and his head is fuzzy yet [insert culprit’s name] is standing right in front of him, all dressed up like he’s about to do a drug transaction.

“Bro,” he narrows his eyes to do a full scan of the bedroom, plopping himself back down only to realize that you’re not here. “You fucking suck at making cocktails,”

BamBam only chuckles humorlessly at that, five of his drinks didn’t even put a dent on Changbin yet the infamous Bang Chan wasn’t able to stay sober to not have a girl carry him to his bedroom. “Drink,” he gives the glass of water in his hand a light thrust before handing Chan a tablet of aspirin with the other. He’s also decided that it’s a lovely Sunday morning and he doesn’t have time for this shit. He should be chomping on breakfast in bed with something on the TV right now. But, he can’t risk having Chan roam the cruise looking all homeless and insane.

“I can’t believe not only did you let Y/N into your room, slept in the same bed as her,” Chan chokes on the big gulp of water that he’s just taken, and everything from last night starts pouring back to him like an unwanted nightmare. He was far too drunk to even remember every detail, he just prays to whatever gods up there that he didn’t say anything stupid. “Yet you didn’t even confess, great fucking job.” BamBam asserts like the true friend that he is, accidentally pushing Chan closer to his imminent misery.

Chan snaps his head up and almost screams aloud that his heart’s about to jump out of his chest, “You wanted me to what?!”

“You heard me,” BamBam tongues the inside of his cheeks in annoyance, regretting the amount of money that he spent to tip one of the cruise’s staff so that he could sneak his own alcohol in safely. “You know what that means? That means you still didn’t shoot your shot! You did not shoot your shot! Which entails? You’re gonna be lonely for the rest of your life and eventually die alone. You’re gonna die alone! You hear me?”

Chan thinks it’s way too early for him to endure BamBam repeating himself over and over again like a crazy person. He might still be slightly hammered because all he’s hearing is “shoot your shot” and “die alone”, he’s confused because why in the world is his best friend making him choose between killing someone and dying alone? Wait, no, actually….he might mean something else. Chan’s just in denial.

“Where is she?” He rasps out tiredly after taking the pill and downs the whole glass of water.

“Lisa carried her back to Jennie’s room in the middle of the night,” BamBam informs his friend, watching how his eyes are starting to turn stormy, and then he exhales out of relief. “She almost murdered me! This is all your fault!” He cries out dramatically before belly-flopping himself onto Chan’s bed, metaphoric tears dripping down on his cheek.

Chan perks an eyebrow as if BamBam just offended him, as if he’s mental and just made it out of an insane asylum. “My fault?” He questions, his voice getting louder and louder at the end. “Whose idea was it to poison me with your questionable drinks? Whose idea was it to make me all batshit drunk? Whose idea was it to let me into the party so that I could find the only thing that I’ve been trying to avoid all night? It was your fault, okay?! It-was-your-fault!” He deadpans and soon realizes that now he’s the one who’s repeating himself.

BamBam is more than confused right now because didn’t Chan want this after all? To confess to you once again and get you back? All he was trying to do is basically give his friend a teeny tiny sprinkle of motivation and this is how he repays him? Now he looks like an idiot who has been trying to sabotage the relationship between the two protagonists of another horrible rom-com. Jackson was right, he should have just played ping pong in peace and not stick his nose into other people’s business.

“Look,” he places a hand on Chan’s shoulder as he sighs deeply into the palms of his hands, mentally debating how the fuck can he make it up to you now. “She could have just refused your invitation of stepping onto this cruise. She could have pushed you away when you tried to kiss her,” BamBam stops midway to suppress his laughter at how Chan’s cheeks are taking no time to turn into a brighter shade of pink. “And, she could have left you alone and drunk at the bar, and- I don’t know, hang out with Na Jaemin or something.”

When a muffled silence descends in between the current civil conversation, only a confused look crosses Chan’s features and all BamBam wants to do right now is to put his head through a goddamn wall. “Jesus fucking Christ…” he murmurs to himself. “Minho’s right. You both are so dumb it’s physically hurting me.” Not exactly the most comforting words to tell a person in crisis but things hitting hard like this actually helps Chan a lot more than how people usually sugarcoat their words.

“Listen, it’s not like there’s no more fish in the sea but have you ever met someone who instantly clicked and just simply fell for you? She didn’t know that you had money, she didn’t know anything about your family. She could care less about your social background too honestly, because she fell for who you truly are,” BamBam hates to be cliché, really, but it is what it is. “Y/N has never gone a day without checking your notifications, she was so broken when you suddenly just shut her out like that. And yes, you were an asshole for doing that but can’t you see how hesitant she was every time you’re trying to get closer?”

Chan looks up at his friend, his tense muscles finally relaxing. “Which isn’t the point…”

“Which isn’t the point,” BamBam tells him, looking more serious than ever and it’s freaking him out. “Because what I’m trying to say is, it’s still not too late to shoot your shot.”

eleven. Maybe you deserve someone else, but deep down, you’ve always wanted Chan. And in your heart, you know that it’s right because humans only want the love they thought they deserved. You think part of the reason why you can never seem to let go of him is you’re just scared that something so amazing won’t happen twice. People might call you out for dwelling on the past but you call it a coping mechanism.

Magically, you’re starting to get used to the frequent encounters with Chan and Eunji since they’re also apparently part of the Privileged. You really should give yourself a pat on your shoulder for not having a mental breakdown whenever you see them hand in hand in public. The forced smile on Chan’s face always gives you the tiniest strand of hope that he’s just putting on a show as demand from his family. But at the same time, you’re scared that you’re just being delusional and you’d never have anything to do with his life from now on. Perhaps he wanted a fresh start so that everything can be like how they used to back in college? He didn’t want to “lose you again” because he still wanted to be friends?

But every time he tried to sneak a glance towards your direction and smiled, all you could think was: “Oh, shit,”

You knew that you fell for him twice, and you’re still falling. Every. Single. Day.

“Like what you see?” Changbin brags on the other side of the curtain, followed by a string of gagging noises by Jisung. And you secretly want to take a picture of his face, for science, obviously. But by that, you mean to blackmail him whenever wherever you want because he’d rather not have his fans gushing over him looking like a dying donkey, inside a fifteen thousand dollars suite on a cruise.

“You look like an idiot.”

Jisung voices with pure disgust in his tone. “Who the fuck lend you a white tuxedo?” Needless to say, you try to picture Changbin wearing a white suit and you immediately scrunch your nose up, shaking your head profusely. Changbin looks especially good in dark colors, but you’re not saying that he wouldn’t look good in brighter tones, it just feels weird not seeing him in a black tux, even when it’s just for a small party.

“My sister! If anything she’s an idiot,” he’s probably throwing his hands up in frustration. “She said I should switch things up. And I trusted her, now I feel like an idiot.”

Jisung asserts like a snake, “You look like you have a stick up in your ass, it’s so high up I can literally see it whenever you’re opening your mouth.” He’s probably man-spreading on the blue velvet couch, playing with the glass of bubbly champagne that he’s specifically requested. You don’t get why he would want to drink when he’s waiting for his friends in the dressing room but he will, just because he can.

“Ew,” he spats not long after. You’re not sure if he’s referring to the drink or Changbin’s outfit. It might be the drink, it’s shit but it gets the job done. It’s more about the concept of looking elegant and fancy more than the concept of getting wasted, in order to not look like a corrupted person. “Why would you godsend privileged, snoshy, live-and-breathe-in-money people deadass drink this instead of a nice Tequila?” Yep, not surprising.

Changbin protests, clearly annoyed. “Because we can afford that shit, just like how there’s a random, money dripping guitar in the dressing room,” you don’t even have to peek to know that he’s rolling his eyes to the point that they’re gonna fly out of their sockets. “But at the same time…true, I don’t like it either. That’s why I never get wasted whenever I go to parties like these, man, I miss college parties,”

God, this zipper is driving me nuts, you mentally curse when it gets stuck halfway and your arms are already giving up on you. Where’s Jennie when you’re in desperate need of her help?

“Whatever, let’s go find your sister and get you in a new tux,” you can hear Jisung pushes himself off the couch and settles his champagne down on the coffee table. “No offense towards her…I just fucking hate it on you,”

“Wait, guys—“ the moment you try to call out to them, they basically shut the door of the dressing room. “Well, shit,” you sigh, quickly realizing that 1) you don’t have your phone with you; 2) you can’t just run outside to grab it because what if Changbin and Jisung get back here at an untimely moment; and 3) there’s no way in hell you’re gonna ask one of them to zip it up for you. Now you’re forced to stay in a confined space with your only protection aka the red velvet curtain that looks way too cliché for your liking. Seriously, isn’t Jennie supposed to be here with you? It was her idea to put you in another dress, which you hate with a passion but you can never have the heart to tell her that.

The door swings open again and you exhale out of surprise, “Thank God, Jen. You’re here. Can you help me with my zipper? It’s stuck, and my hands gave up on me,” you immediately turn around, a sense of relief washing over you.

“Do you think Chan’s gonna hate seeing me in a dress again? I mean, I did call him an asshole when I wasn’t wearing one,” you stop to take in a breath, completely oblivious about the fact that it wasn’t Jennie who opened the door. “…but I was kinda acting like a bitch when I was wearing one too. I was so furious knowing that he’s seeing someone else behind my back that I wanted to bite his head off. And now I’m stuck here with him, his family, and that chick, in a hotel, on water, floating spontaneously somewhere near Singapore.”

Wordlessly, a pair of hands push the curtains aside to tug onto your zipper, slowly adjusting it and careful not to break it at the same time. Once your dress is zipped up all the way, you’re ready to turn your head and thank your friend. “Stay still, I’m not done yet,” your face automatically burns darkly when you come to a realization that it’s definitely not Jennie, most definitely not Jennie. In fact, it’s the person you’ve been planning on avoiding all night. Before you can decide when to make a run for it and save yourself from the imminent embarrassment, a silver necklace is draped around your neck, a diamond-studded buttery resting nicely right below your collarbones.

“Beautiful,” he says again in that honey-dripping voice of his. “You should wear dresses more,”

“Chan! You just scared the living daylights out of me,” you whisper harshly, turning on your heels and shove his chest. You definitely didn’t know what you were signing up for because it’s a grave mistake for you to accidentally look into his captivating eyes and you can see an entire universe in them. Absolutely magnificent. He looks impeccably good in his bejeweled black suit jacket, black turtleneck, and a silver chain around his neck, matching pieces of jewelry adorning his ears.

Chan wiggles his brows like the self-indulging person that he is, straightening his lapel dramatically. “Hmm, I don’t know if you can smell that, but it reeks of jealousy in here, and also hatred, but mostly jealousy.”

“Can. You. Zip. It. And. Call. It. A. Day.” With every word, you repeatedly slap his chest, but only to see him breaking into a fit of giggles in return. You almost forgot that he works out, whereas, you literally have zero ounces of muscles on your body. What a disgrace to your family. Like come on, even Felix has abs, and he never turns down Tacos Tuesday whenever he has dance practice with Hyunjin because their studio is conveniently situated right next to the best Mexican restaurant.

And the guacamole there? Phenomenal.

Chan teases, “I thought girls like you should be taught to act like a lady, not hitting the innocents.”

“Stop being a baby, Bang, it’s not like I’m gonna leave you with a bruise or two.”

Ah yes, this reminds Chan of the good old days of college where you’re both in that weird phase where you’re too much of a scaredy-cat not to talk to him on a last name basis because Changbin was an idiot for constantly leaving you two alone in the music room. “Why?” His lips curl up into a grin. “Because you can’t even open a jar of spaghetti sauce by yourself?”

That’s…that’s just a harsh truth. And now you feel like Regina George getting hit by a bus because life’s willing to give you a piece of its mind. You’re weak as fuck.

“It’s not fair when Felix has a six packs while eating tacos every other week, and I’m here looking like this with a green smoothie for breakfast every day,” you mumble bitterly, already too tired to argue with Chan because the party’s starting in half an hour. “I swear he’s on drugs, he always puts something into his daily Americano.”

Chan laughs breathlessly and cups your face with his hands, squishing your cheeks together. “I’m pretty sure it’s just stevia since Lix has a sweet tooth. On the bright side, I think you look just fine like how you are right now. I like you just the way you are. No modification is needed.” The audacity.

Your nostrils flare with heat, and your cheeks feel hot against Chan’s cool fingers. Again, Chan looks really good tonight and you’re not sure how much longer your heart can hold up before you pass out in his arms. “Uhm, so, just to make it clear,” you fiddle with your fingers nervously. “You and I-“

“Hey guys, how are things going—” Jennie pops her head into the dressing room and looks around, seeing no signs of Changbin or Jisung whatsoever. “What did I miss?” She looks at you cluelessly, then her lips automatically spread into a shit-eating grin when she sees how Chan’s cupping your cheeks. Just when you thought you can’t possibly blush any more darkly.

You awkwardly pull away when Chan clears his throat, retrieving his hands from your face. “Jen, just get out, I swear it’s nothing.” Yeah, as if Jennie aka the person who proclaims to be an expert at love because she’s snuck way too many boys into her closet, is gonna believe your pathetic attempt at an explanation.

“Oh, I’ll get out,” Jennie throws you a wink and you can see how Chan’s shuddering slightly at the dangerous glint in her eyes. “Now, don’t get too freaky in here okay kids, walls are pretty thin,” she asserts unhelpfully like the true friend that she is before shutting the door close. When you’re about to blurt out as many apologies as you can muster to Chan, a soft ‘click’ echoes through your eardrums. Your eyes grow alarmed almost immediately and so do Chan’s.

Did she just lock you inside the dressing room with Chan and expect something to happen? Kim. Fucking. Jennie.

“I hate you, and Jennie,” you tell Chan, not even bothering to hit him this time.

You’d rather take a nap on that couch over there than go out and party honestly. Parties only consist of two things most of the time: drinking and talking. But getting wasted is not an option tonight because you’re not about to spill rosé on the dress that Jennie adores the most. Although you do hate her ass right now.

And people don’t even hold proper conversations during parties unless they know each other, there are only small talks which are so….ugh. You don’t understand the purpose, the meaning of speaking to someone with a maximum of three sentences. You need a real, authentic, civil conversation about a specific topic that’s worth one’s time. Not just “how are you liking the party?” and “yeah, it’s dope, you?” or other gibberish nonsense.

Sometimes you feel bad for those people because their lives are staler than those crumbs of bread that pigeons feed off.

Chan tips his head back and releases the most obnoxiously loud series of laughter that you have to hold back the urge to kick him off the cruise. “You know you love me,”

“I don’t.”

“If you don’t then why would you dash through the airport like a madwoman just to hug me and tell me those three magic words?”

“Too bad, my brain just refused to recall that memory.”

He grabs your chin and angles it so that you’re directly looking into his eyes, dimpled smile, and all. “Then do I need to interfere and remind you?”

You don’t think you’re gonna make it through tonight if Chan keeps making your chest swell like this.

twelve. You and Chan have decided to change into more casual outfits and ditch the formal ones to strip the awkwardness and tension to a bare minimum. And by ditching, you mean hanging them up nicely so that Jennie won’t strangle you later. It is her dress after all. But you have every right to burn it since it was her idea to lock you up with Chan in a dressing room. Thank God it’s almost the size of her closet. Now, you’re both laying flat on your backs on the navy fuzzy carpet before the white couch, already moved the tiny coffee table away so that you won’t accidentally knock something that costs a fortune over. Kind of insanitary too but you can’t care less.

“Are you hungry?” Chan turns his head and asks you, warm brown eyes twinkling under the dimmed light.

“No,” you shake your head, and as if on cue, your stomach rumbles involuntarily. As Chan bursts into laughter, you quickly cover up your pink cheeks with the palms of your hands, internally groaning in pure agony. “Yes, I am hungry like a normal human being should because it’s already midnight, sue me.” You confess.

If only some of Ryujin’s leftovers were here. This is exactly why you refuse to eat out most of the time. Why bother hiring high-end chefs and having fancy dishes when you’ve already had a roommate who’s born into cooking? God, you miss her spaghetti.

Chan props his head onto one of his arms and looks down at you, a glint of mischief evident in his orbs. “You know what’s a whole fucking gourmet dish? Me,” he peels your hands away from your face with ease, holding onto them tightly to prevent you from smacking his chest.

You roll your eyes at him in the bitchiest way possible, yanking your hands away from his because every touch burns like fire and you’re not letting yourself be vulnerable tonight. If you still remembered some of the moves from the martial art classes that mom forced you into when you were in middle school, Chan wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance. You almost snap someone’s arm in half back then, but those days are long gone.

“You? Please, you’re like those piles of unwanted leftover vegetables that everyone keeps giving away to their most annoying relatives,” you start talking big with no intention of meaning it.

Chan’s not just a single dish, he’s an entire buffet. You could never imagine how it felt like for him to have thousands of letters and notes pouring out from his personal locker when he’s wrapping up for the day. Yeah, a total heartthrob. That’s why all of the dumb bitches on campus would always circle around him during breaks, no matter where he went. You were one of them too, you’re also a dumb bitch. Except, you didn’t need to stalk him, Changbin did all the work for you: inviting you to sit with them during lunch breaks, letting you ride the 4419 home alone with Chan, consistently hinting at Chan about your stupid feelings for him every two seconds,… In all honesty, you should be thanking him but you also want to throw him into a tank full of sharks.

Chan gasps, like audibly gasps as if you’re throwing shade at him, which you totally are. “You’re such an absurd, unreasonable, incongruous, preposterous-“ he pauses midway because he’s already running out of big words for ‘ridiculous’ to call you out on; it takes guts and Oscar-worthy acting to insult his godly appearance and impeccable visual, it really does. “—whatever, doesn’t matter. I know that you’re lying,” he singsongs before pushing himself off the carpet, stretching his limbs tiredly.

You think it’s almost two hours since you’re laying in a single spot, and you’re not risking having any parts of your body paralyzed so you get up, proceeding to do the same thing. “I can’t believe you didn’t have your phone with you,” you throw your hands up in exasperation, careful not to chip one of your nails. Lisa didn’t spend an hour on them for nothing. “And no one is even looking for us! Literally no one!” You can’t exactly blame your chaotic group of friends because they’ve probably fallen asleep since formal parties like these are so damn boring but Chan’s parents not freaking out about their missing son? And his “fiancé” too? That’s oddly concerning.

“You don’t have your phone with you either,” he snickers, hands reaching for the random acoustic guitar in the corner of the room. “I doubt that Lisa or Jisoo’s gonna get us out of here, I don’t even have faith in the two other parts of 3RACHA anymore.”

“What about your fiancé?” You ask him out of the blue, completely ignoring the sudden pang in your chest.

Chan shrugs nonchalantly, strumming some random chords with the instrument. “I broke it off with her, in front of my parents.”

“Cool then-“ you almost choke on your own saliva, “—hold up, did I just mishear you? Did you dump her?! In front of your parents?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” You heave, feeling your heart rate increasing by the nanosecond. Not only did Chan break down the walls you’ve been trying to build, he utterly eliminated the invisible barrier between your life and him (sorry Jaemin), and he knocked down the only obstacle left that’s in his way. Now, imagine two dots with a single line to connect them both. Everything’s as simple as that but your brain is already fried from coming up with one hundred and one ways to move in the slowest way possible.

Chan keeps strumming the guitar in his arms but purses his lips at your particular way of responding to his previous statement. “You know, a ‘thank you’ would be nice. And no, they didn’t disown me. I was like ‘fuck it’, and I told them everything. Not everything-everything, but like everything-everything, you feel me?”

No, I don’t fucking feel you but I can physically feel the shame and agony that’s slowly dawning on me you moron, you think to yourself, inhaling and exhaling deeply to prevent yourself from exploding like a ticking bomb.

“What did they say?”

“They didn’t say anything since they were too…uh, taken aback by the amount of information I guess..”

“Chan, I don’t think you were thinking straight—“

He interrupts you with a sad pout, sticking out his bottom lip. “Why are you talking about my parents and not this guitar?” This man is being ridiculous, as stubborn as a child.

“IT’S A GUITAR! RELAX ABOUT IT!”

“I GOT THIS FOR YOU!” Chan raises his voice slightly to catch you off guard and then sighs deeply. “Felix said you hadn’t played the guitar in years, but you were pretty good at it. So I wanted to surprise you, don’t you like it?”

“Chan, you what?” Your voice grows smaller and smaller until it’s only as audible as a whisper. “You didn’t have to do that- of course I like it! But- it’s just..” You stop talking completely to take a closer look at the acoustic guitar in his hands. It’s made of a reddish-brown type of timber with a satin finish, you can tell that the wood will age well through time and create more depth and warmth to the sound of the instrument. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a guitar, but it’s been way too long since you’ve touched one.

“I- I forgot how to play it after a while..”

Chan throws a wolffish wink in your direction as a reassurance that there wouldn’t be a problem with that. “I can show you how to if you like.”

“Moving too fast, moon is lighting up her skin,” Chan cuts you off softly with his angelic voice, and your heart is stuck in your throat, refraining you from barking back with anything. “She’s falling, doesn’t even know it yet. Heart is beating loud but she doesn’t want it to stop.”

Is he seriously trying to do this by singing a song? A fucking One Direction’s song?

“We’re only getting older, baby. And I’ve been thinking about it lately,” Chan’s voice slowly bleeds into the chorus, and you feel as if all of your pride and dignity have been thrown out the window because you’re completely frozen in your spot when he sits down next to you. Chan smiles throughout the lyrics seeing how you’re looking at him like he’s the only person left in the entire Milky Way, a strange warm sensation bubbling up in his stomach. “Does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?”

“Everything that you’ve ever dreamt of, disappearing when you wake up,” Chan’s heart does an entirety of an acrobatic routine when he locks his eyes with yours. Seemingly to keep himself together, but the insides just feel like he’s being hung upside down on a tree with blood rushing to his face. This just has to be the cheesiest, sappiest, not-necessarily-scream-CB97 way to confess to someone but fuck it, he still needs to shoot his shot. “But there’s not to be afraid of. Even when the night changes…”

He pauses for a few seconds, “..it will never change me and you..” and finishes off smoothly, embarrassment growing more evident on his cheeks.

What did you tell yourself months ago, Y/N? Aren’t you tired of trying? How are you so sure that he wouldn’t do it again? Haven’t you had enough?

Yeah, you’d never know. And yes, you’ve had enough.

Well, to hell with that.

That’s when everything clicks in place. After all this time, after everything you’ve been through, after everything he’s done, you can finally see why you’ve been chasing him relentlessly knowing damn well that your heart is still in his hands, one wrong move and you’ll be utterly destroyed forever. Nobody compares to Chan. Nobody makes you smile like he does, nobody makes you laugh like he does and nobody makes you cry as hard as he does. It’s almost a truth that’s universally acknowledged that everything has been leading up to this specific moment, your heartbeat comes in sync, and two completely different worlds collide with each other.

You almost lost yourself all the way to him, but in him, you also found the way back to you. And how do you argue with the algorithm of falling for someone when the entire universe has conspired for the both of you to be together since forever?

“Uhm…so what-“

Before he can even finish his sentence, you abruptly grab a fistful of his hoodie and yank him towards you. Chan physically feels shivers run up his spine when your hand automatically interlocks with his, still fits like a glove. You kiss him with such desperation and tenderness it makes him feel as if you’ve been wandering this celestial sphere by yourself in the past century, yet he’s always had your heart. And he lets himself trust you with his in your hands once again because this is only the beginning. The paths ahead might not always be peaches and cream, but if it’s with you, he’s willing to stick with you ‘till the very end of it.

You’re the first one to break the kiss, managing to talk between short breaths. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Chan shakes his head and laughs breathlessly, wearing a dimpled on his face, “Nothing, I was just wondering if you’d take me back after everything.”

“After everything?” You merely chuckle when tiny bits of confusion in his orbs soon disintegrate into stardust, floating through the galaxy for eons. “A million times over, I will still choose you and let you rip my heart in half if that’s what it takes for me to stay by your side.”

Chan feels like he’s floating in midair, head all fuzzy and moonstruck. “Actually though…can I kiss you again?”

“And then nap time?” You let out a big yawn, making Chan toss his head back, laughing wholeheartedly.

“And then nap time,” he agrees, gingerly pulling you in by the waist while trying to stop himself from picturing the smirk on BamBam’s face when he opens the door in the morning.

Likewise, BamBam indeed opens the door to the dressing room early in the morning to make a move on his cleanup duty before Chan’s parents have a cardiac arrest. His smirks can’t possibly grow any wider when he sees you cuddle closely to Chan, palms resting on his chest while his hands are locked on your waistline. And BamBam sighs in relief because thank goodness he did shoot his shot.

[analogicisms]

Music & Poetry - Chapter Two

Summary: Popular-but-not-really-famous lyricist Virgil Quinn meets an attractive poet named Logan who claims to hate music. Virgil, who believes lyrics to be every bit the poetry as the kind found in books and anthologies and inspirational posters, feels the need to prove to Logan wrong.

Ship: Analogical (with others in the background)

Rating & Warnings: PG 13.

Chapters: 1 - 2

AO3: Chapter Two

Thanks to @romantichopelessly for betaing and to @sunshineandteddybears and @paperghastly for pre-reading.

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Chapter Two

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♞ LOGAN ♞

What had he been thinking?

That was the question of the day, apparently. 

First, he had agreed to give a complete stranger—a very aesthetically pleasing stranger, but a stranger no less, his brain supplied—a week to somehow, miraculously, suddenly get Logan to enjoy something he had not enjoyed for most of his life. Sure, he had done it, because he was very attracted to the individual and would not mind spending more time with him. Especially if he blushed a bit more. 

If that had not been enough, he had then texted said individual—of course, he would have regardless simply because he had already said he would. He had sent a simple hello, this is Logan Wright sending you a text message as I stated I would when we met at The Bumble Bean earlier today around noon. Sending that had not been the strange thing. The strange thing had been that when he received the hey… what’s up? Logan did in fact respond back and tell him about how he was going to speak for a local graduation and was spending time with a dear old friend. The other guy—Virgil—had responded cool and Logan had just begun to feel disappointment when he received a second text that told about Virgil’s own day. From there, the conversation took off, Logan often catching himself surprised that it was so easy to talk to this Virgil character. 

Neither of those things had been the craziest of his actions that day. When he told Thomas—and by proxy, Thomas’s husband Remy—about the cute “emo” guy at the coffee shop, Logan thought for sure he was out of out-of-the-ordinary things to do. That was until he then told them he was currently texting him and quite enjoying the conversation. That one didn’t last long, however, because Virgil asked him to meet up for drinks that night and Logan, completely unprompted, looked up at Thomas—and Remy by proxy, considering he was currently seated across Thomas’s lap—and conveyed all of this to them. 

Logan knew by the sudden glints in their eyes and the smirks on their faces that there was absolutely no way Logan was going to decline. Logan was quite grateful for the excuse but if he was being honest with himself, something he worked diligently on every day, then he would know that he would have agreed to the “get-together” whether Thomas and Remy demanded him to or not. 

Nobody else, however—least of all those two—needed to know. 

    ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

💀 VIRGIL 💀

“Oh my God! What the fuck—”

“Language!” Patton frowned deeply at him. Virgil waved it away. 

This was important! His life was screwed and not in the good way. He was fucked. Again, not in the good way. 

“What the feckity-feck did I do?” 

He was looking at his phone in horror. 

Patton looked at Emile, who smiled softly and nodded. Getting up, Patton crossed to where Virgil stood in the middle of their living room. Virgil had asked to come over. 

He had just been in the middle of telling them about his and Mystery Man’s conversation. Every so often, Patton watched as his face grew brighter and a smile slipped over his lips, fingers moving over the keys as he presumably replied to this Mystery Man—whose name was Logan and he was a poet, but Mystery Man was just to fun to say and so he and Emile still used it. He couldn’t help the burst of warmth that spread through him as he squeezed Emile’s hand tighter for a few moments. A happy sigh escaped him as Emile’s thumb brushed over his knuckles. Patton was just about to sneak a little kiss when Virgil’s outburst took place. 

Still a little upset about the unnecessary language, Patton put that out of his mind in favor of studying Virgil’s face. He immediately jumped into super friend mode, taking the other’s phone out of his hand. Virgil let him, his hand falling uselessly to his side as he closed his eyes. 

Patton frowned but was grateful it seemed as if Virgil was no longer in risk of a panic attack. At least, for the time being. Worried about what had caused such a reaction, Patton reached out to grip Virgil’s shoulder. 

“Hey, buddy. I’m going to read this, if that’s okay with you? Just want to know what’s going on so I… so we can help… that okay with you, kiddo?”

Virgil blinked and looked at Patton then at his phone. With a sigh, he nodded. 

Patton smiled in thanks and took a moment to go through the text, making sure only to look at the recent ones. He frowned, not sure what was up until he reread the last text between the two which was from Virgil to Logan and it was… 

“Oh my god, Em! Virge asked him out!” 

“Patton!!!” 

Patton blushed and frowned though it only lasted for a few seconds. He was just too excited. 

“I’m sorry, Vivi! It’s just that I’m so proud of you. We both are and on top of that, it’s just so cute how smitten you are. You’re like… my new favorite romcom!” 

Virgil snorted at that and sighed, reaching out to take his phone. Patton closed out of the text and reached out, offering it to him. At that very moment, however, his phone sounded with a new message notification. 

“Oh my gosh, he replied!!” 

“Thanks, Pat! I couldn’t tell!” He wriggled uncomfortably. “I… I can’t look.” 

Patton nodded. “Do you want me to read it and tell you what it says?”

Virgil hesitated but nodded. 

Patton nodded in response and pulled the phone back to him. Opening the text message, he read the words on the screen as his face broke into a huge grin. 

“What’s it say? Is it bad? Is he creeped out? Tell me he’s creeped out so I can go home and make myself a nest and listen to MCR until I’m a hundred and five years old and die from a heart attack…” 

Emile, who had been a silent observer for most of the exchange, did his best to not make mental notes of what Virgil had just said. He is not your patient, Picani. He is your friend. Standing, he moved to stand next to Patton. He placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder and squeezed. 

“Do you want to put this away for now and come back to it in a moment?”

Virgil nodded quickly. Emile nodded and was holding his hand to hold onto the phone when Virgil reached out to stop him. 

“No, actually… I can do it now. Pat… hand me my phone. I can do this.” 

“Yes you can, kiddo.” Patton agreed, handing him the phone. He then looked up at Emile who smiled back, knowing that the answer on the other side of that text message was a good one. 

This was soon confirmed as they watched Virgil read the response, his face growing more and more red. That was okay though, because the smile on his face was growing just as big. When he looked up at them, his black eyes were the brightest and warmest either of them had ever seen. 

“He said yes!” 

“Oh that’s so great!” Patton exclaimed. 

“He would have been insane not to, and I would know,” Emile added. Virgil and Patton laughed at his joke, Virgil snorting and rolling his eyes. 

“Thank you, guys!” He said, patting them both on the back. “So we’re cool to reschedule drinks’ night?”

“Absolutely, kiddo. We can do Friday like all the cool cats do.” 

Virgil hugged Patton and clapped Emile on the shoulder. 

“See ya later guys!” 

“Good luck…” Patton called out. 

“Not that you need it!” Emile finished, wrapping his arm around Patton’s waist to pull him against him. Once Virgil was out the door, the therapist beamed at his boyfriend. “Shall we go back to cuddling?”

Patton smiled up at him and nodded, stepping on tippy-toe to rub their noses together. 

“Yes, please.”

   ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

Disclaimer:  The author does not own Sanders Sides or any of the characters found therein. They are also not affiliated with Thomas Sanders, Joan Stokes, or the Thomas Sanders team. Only the complete story as it is written is the property of the author and is not to be copied or reposted without express permission from the author.

[deathsteel]

30 day fanfic challenge

Prompt #22 - Funeral

TW: canonical child death, not as sad as it seems, Dean is kinda a jerk at first

Okay, maybe it wasn’t classy to crash funerals. But Dean had never claimed to be terribly classy. 

What he did claim to be was a great actor who could make himself cry on demand and the proud owner of one very well fitted suit that was perfect for mourning. 

It started by accident, really. Dean had shown up for the funeral of one of his friend’s grandmother’s cousins intending to comfort the grandmother who’d always loved Dean and never forgotten his birthday, not even once. And he had ended up at an unexpectedly decadent funeral for a 98 year old multi-millionaire that happened to be being thrown the day after. Since he’d missed the funeral he’d intended to attend, Dean figured ‘fuck it’ and proceeded to enjoy the expensive free food and murmured condolences of the deceased’s foxy granddaughters. 

The second time he did it may have been less accidental and Dean cried both for Muriel who had died at the ripe old age of 102 as well as for the organic chemistry test he had just bombed. It was so cathartic that he was hooked, a junky even. 

He stopped going on dates because flirting with the widow or widower and coaxing a smile out of them was so much more appealing than sitting through the awkward get-to-know-you conversation of a first date. The emotional release of crying onto a stranger’s shoulder had nothing on getting blackout drunk and Dean found more and more of his social life being spent in funeral homes and cemeteries than in bars. 

Until he accidentally walked into a funeral without doing his research first. Which, typically he did so much research so that he could pull off pretending to be the second cousin once removed or the mentee that the family never knew their loved one had mentored, but today he’d been busy and distraught over getting a rejection letter to his first choice for his doctoral program so he’d just picked out a funeral from a random obit and darted out the door. 

So he wasn’t expecting...this. A funeral for a kid. 

Dean had never gone to a funeral for a kid, something about the grief of a life snuffed out too soon had seemed too raw for Dean to be able to fake. It had felt much more disrespectful to crash those funerals than the ones for people who had lived a long and full and fascinating life. 

It also seemed pretty evident to everyone else in attendance that Dean was in the wrong place. First, he was waaaay over dressed. Everyone else was wearing colorful clothing ranging from Hawaiian shirts to garish tye-dye and Dean’s black on black ensemble stuck out like a sore thumb. Secondly, Dean appeared to be the only one affecting an air of solemnity. In fact, the entire funeral home had been decked out to resemble a circus complete with juggling clowns and a guy making balloon animals. There was popcorn and a cotton candy machine and even a girl in a Hawaiian shirt carrying around a pair of parrots on her shoulders. 

Dean intended to turn on his heel and march right back out, but it looked like some family member was already making their way towards Dean- a tall woman with short brown hair and a face that looked like it was meant to smile, which it was even if her eyes were not.

“Hello there,” The woman said, reaching out to take Dean’s hand and hold it in both of her own. “Thank you so much for coming, I don’t think we got to meet ever. My husband spent the nights at the hospital, so I don’t recognize all of the nurses. I’m Jody, Owen’s mom, thank you for coming.”

“Um, yea, Dean,” he muttered in reply, giving his real name when he never EVER usually did. But he was so caught off guard he didn’t know what else to do.

“I’m sorry about the change in dress code,” Jody said with a laugh, gesturing to the long rainbow plaid dress she was wearing. “Sean said Owen would’ve liked it. He didn’t like for things to be boring, you know?”

Dean nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he mentally planned his escape. He was an asshole and this was it, this was the last time he crashed without doing his research first. 

“Well, anyway,” Jody continued, looking over Dean’s shoulder as another few mourners milled into the room. “Please enjoy yourself and have fun.” 

Dean breathed a sigh of relief as the woman moved away, running a hand through his hair as he looked around the room. He’d hang for ten minutes and then duck out so it wouldn’t look so suspicious. 

“You don’t work for the hospital,” A deep voice announced next to Dean causing him to jump and spin guiltily towards the source. 

He found himself face to face with the guy who had been making balloon animals not even five minutes ago. A distant part registered that the man was attractive, like truly unf, but a more sane part of Dean realized that he was about to have his cover blown by a hot dude wearing rainbow suspenders. 

“Uh, yea I do?” Dean asked, trying to convince even himself. 

“No you don’t,” the man said, narrowing his blue eyes at Dean in suspicion. “Because I work at the hospital and I know everyone who ever set foot into Owen Mill’s room and you do not work at the hospital. 

Fuck. 

Dean weighed his options for a long moment before deciding he was well and truly powned. “Listen, dude. I didn’t realize this was a funeral for a kid okay. I don’t normally do this kind of thing. I’m gonna leave, just don’t make a scene okay?” 

“Right,” the other man said slowly, his eyes and voice conveying how very little he bought Dean’s bullshit. “Take that jacket off and give it here. Make sure your phone and stuff are in your jacket.”

“Uh...excuse me?” Dean asked as he reached for the buttons on his suit jacket, loading his keys, wallet, and phone into the pockets before he handed it over to the other man and allowed himself to be led deeper into the room where the funeral was being held. 

“Our nurse who signed up for the dunk tank is sick,” the balloon guy explained, stopping beside a large dunk tank that was situated on a blue tarp in one corner of the room; he patted the tank meaningfully before turning back towards Dean. “You man the dunk tank and I won’t rat you out.”

“What!?” Dean choked, looking at the slightly murky water and then back down at his fairly expensive suit. 

The other man just raised an eyebrow at Dean and stayed silent, his full lips pursing just slightly to hold back what Dean strongly suspected was a triumphant smirk. 

“Ugh okay,” Dean groaned, throwing up his hands as he made his way towards the dunk tank’s ladder and toed off his shoes. “For the kids.”

“Always for the kids,” the other man agreed, moving to the side of the tank where the bullseye was and taking up his role of barker with what Dean felt like was too much enthusiasm. “Dunk the Dummy! Step right up and Dunk the Chump!”

Quiet a few dunks later, Dean was soaked and shivering and vowing that he would never crash another funeral when the other man came back up to him with an apologetic grin and a towel. 

“Thanks,” Dean muttered sarcastically as he took the towel and wrapped it around himself. 

“Maybe you won’t crash any more funerals,” Balloon guy admonished only slightly apologetically. “Seriously, I clocked you as soon as you walked in. And you’re lucky it was me instead of a pissed off parent.”

“You go to a lot of funerals?” Dean asked as he roughed the towel over his dripping hair. 

“Call it a work related hazard,” the other man replied with a grim smile. “But hey, it gave me a reason to learn balloon art and it makes the kids happy when most of the kids I see don’t have much to be happy about.”

Dean nodded in understanding, figuring he’d shove his whole leg in his mouth since his foot had already seemed to take up permanent residence there. “So uh...how did you know this kid anyway?”

“I was his oncologist,” the other man replied evenly, nodding at Dean’s self-recriminating wince. “So yea, man--”

“Dean,” he offered, cutting across the other man because it felt like he owed it to the doctor by that point. 

“Dean,” the man said, with an incline of his head. “I’m Castiel. Just uh, do me a favor. Stop crashing funerals okay? It's pretty damn disrespectful.”

“Absolutely,” Dean promised, crossing his heart with the tip of his index finger. “I’m a changed man, I promise.”

“Great,” Castiel replied, rolling his eyes indulgently. “Have a good day Dean, thanks for coming.”

Dean nodded, handing the other man back the soggy towel in exchange for his jacket and his shoes that he picked up instead of putting them on over his dripping socks. 

“But hey, Dean,” Castiel called as Dean started away. “If you ever want to take another turn at the dunk tank, you can look me up at St. Mary’s.”

“Right,” Dean said with a nod at the other man, turning to leave again before Castiel could see his blush. 

His funeral crashing days were most definitely over, but maybe his tank dunking days had just begun.