#i acidently scrunched my face during it through so hoping for the best

[awkwardlyaaron]

New eye brow piercing~!

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Hey! A new wlw short story is up on my Patreon. Check it out! And please consider becoming a Patron for more wlw writing and more. As a struggling artist anything helps.

Here’s a free preview:

Headlights Girl

Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the land, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they shrank away from my gaze deep into their cages into the nooks and crannies. Most things do.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness and sleep. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There have been stranger kids born in the age of spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for small articles and mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy with fire on his breath. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father calls it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He doesn’t look at me much. And I know what he means. I know what he means when he calls it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. They could barely afford to send me to That School. I didn’t want to be there either.

We weren’t the same, not really. None of us are the same age and most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons under flat mattresses. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or have a pig-nose or blackhole for a nose. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he runs away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I’m 16 when I heel-toe my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with a collection of loose clothes, change, a bath towel, sewing kit, a bible written in a language I don’t speak, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he’s at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at Target and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There’s a beer in front of his idle hands and he glances at the bag on my shoulder.

He sighs like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafs through a wad of cash he kept in a safe in the garage. He hands me almost three hundred bucks and we nod at each other. I’m out the door before the midnight bus arrives.

I watch the headlights of the bus approach through dense summer night and think it must be like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I get on the bus and kick my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, I cross my arms over my chest, and watch the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet move like tides. They toss me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I taste the painted deserts toward the west. I dip my toes into the largest cities with lights brighter than my own. I graze my palms on neon signs and hunch my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touches me. They don’t come close enough when I open my eyes and they see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that will smite them.

I find my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gather. I don’t talk much, I don’t like to, and people stare at me whether I’m speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it aches. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’ve never seen a movie in any theatres, but I can imagine what it’s like.

I like the ocean cities best with their pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding white paths, and crushed seashell parking lots. I like the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkles from the ocean water as it sun-dries. I camp out on beaches and bum cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I’m good at taking care of myself once I get in a rhythm.

Sometimes, or often, I dream of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dream of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I am weighted down through the cold to where no human has ever been before. I open my eyes there, I open them all the way, lightning-bright, and in my dreams, the salt doesn’t sting. It doesn’t hurt, instead, I light up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I do something good then. Maybe I do something good and bring the sun to places that have forgotten it.

I meet Mags on the beach. She’s got one eye and five teeth and carries around string and scissors everywhere. She smells like seawater and roasting kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes are neat despite her leather-cracked skin and her arms and neck are covered with tattoos of shipwrecks. She cackles and pulls me aside the first night we meet.

“What’s your name?” Her voice is old creaking wood. I am quiet. “I could give you one.” She offers with a grin that is more empty space than anything.

I shake my head. “Nana.”

“What do you like, kid?”

I shake my head again.

Mags likes me more than I deserve. I pocket her last pair of socks when she’s not looking. She never mentions it and drags me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She takes me to the soup restaurant for something that isn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackles, she spits when she talks, people glare at her as well.

I think she’s normal, not touched by the spirits, but she likes me more than most people and I don’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snort. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snap.

“Lippy-wild thing. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heats the needle before she uses it, red hot and untouchable. She dips it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she calls them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin with color and movement. She shows me on her right foot first, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It takes her six hours to make a little shipwreck right above her big toe. It’s a schooner going under and I’m the only witness to the way she makes the waves come to life and crash against its sides. I can’t look away and I forget to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washes another needle. She heats it red-hot. She dips it in ink and hands it to me.

I practice all over my thighs first, there’s enough meat there and it’s easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looks like nothing but squiggles, a wobbly stick figure on a skateboard, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practice designs in the sand. Mags takes me to the museum on Sundays. They’re free on Sundays.

Something stirs in my chest, even as the guards yell at me about how flash photography isn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I’m shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rots roars to life in my chest.

I stab in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake next, and then finally, something good, something that gives people a reason to stare. I make it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than the others.

I don’t want to leave the ocean city. Mags says she has to keep moving though. She gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackles. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winks as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I want to make her pinky-promise like I’m a kid again and begging one of the other kids to tell me if I’m actually beautiful when I close my eyes. I can’t do that; I wave as she totters up the steps of the bus and is taken away with the tides of her own feet. ------------ I get an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked to them first and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but coach surfing and camping out on beaches is a tiring pastime. Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie run a tattoo shop together. Davies walks like he’s never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie has a throw-pillow that says “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies is nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie has topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’s been asked to leave a number of stores before the children start staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me, it’s not that type of town. I rankle at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. I brush off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie calls me “Shadow” and I think it’s a joke. Davies says I must be possessed by the ghost of a dead star and now I’m nothing but a blackhole: take everything in and let nothing out.

Neither of them lets me touch a needle in those first six months. They have me practice on pig skin and stand by their shoulder as they work. I feel like a dental assistant except I’m the hanging light above shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stand at their shoulder as they draw thick lines and thin dots and make hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They ask me to stop blinking and stand still. I almost walk out and find a new cliff to crash against, almost. No one had ever expected me to show up to something before. No one cared if I went to school or when I got home. And no one kept any tabs on me after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, it didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow.” She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I am eloquent in the morning.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want the desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

I grumble. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before. I tell myself I’ll just try it out, no harm in having a bit of a savings anyway. No harm in seeing what the fuss was about.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with my eyes. I don’t let up though. I put on pants for this, after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder now.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, he had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me now as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “The line’s barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” He chuckled darkly. His grin is crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.

“Look at you go. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun before the new year. I tell myself I’ll only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I don’t have to actually stay. I’ll just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chases after girls with eyes that glow.

I don’t break my lease. I draw cartoon heroes in speedos on tipsy college girls who swear they’re sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I have to give two refunds for a duck that turns out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with nothing but doors ahead of her. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I’m best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It’s dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hide my smile when she goes to my bosses and points at it while jumping up and down. The best thing she’s ever seen. She should pay us double. Where did you get this girl? I try not to blink so they can’t see the wetness under my eyes.

Sometimes I still stand by the bus stop to check who’s coming off. I don’t expect to see Mags again so soon, but sometimes I want to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

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[softbtsickies]

Just deal

I said I wasn’t a writer because I wanted to keep this account separate from my Wattpad but I found this old draft that i was never ended up posting on wp but after reading it again Ig it’s not that bad and it’s grown on me a tiny bit so I decided why not. Hope it can be enjoyed <3

*Based on the vid*

♡Sickie: Taehyung

♡Caretaker: no one 😀

♡Tw: emeto, small mention of skipping meals all day and very light fluff and angst (if it can be considered) hurt no comfort, but with sickness instead

Taehyung breathed in deeply while repeating a mental chant of the same affirmation “You’re fine, You’re okay,” over and over again like he was some type of scratched CD, he wasn’t quite sure if it was a breath of convincing himself into a false relief or to push down the ever climbing pressure in his esophagus. He found it was best to nervously fiddle with the beading and cuffs of his sleeves as an act of ignorance to the feeling of a wave of stomach acid crashing inside him likewise to bubbling ocean, as it had been doing all day. Taehyung had made it through many concerts having an ‘upset tummy’ without upchucking all over the place, and he was determined to keep that track record running, even if it meant having to survive the day on a tiny amount of water and the littlest human interaction he had in years to preserve energy and to refrain from having his mouth open long enough for his stomach to take the window of opportunity to reject everything when talking. He moved onto rubbing his sweaty hands against his stage pants while the stylist continued to prick and prod at him, everything churning inside him picked up in pace as he realised how close the concert was getting to opening. The stylist finally backed away from him, at the same time one of the stage crew stood behind him looking at the both of them in the mirror. Taehyung straightened his posture up as much as he could to show the worker had his attention (there definitely being no ulterior motive of trying to stop the compression of his tummy.) “You coming out or staying in here to get some rest before the opening number?” Taehyung looked at himself one more time in the mirror, the stage make up perfectly covering his lack of wellness. “I’ll...” he had to clamp his mouth shut to sallow the airy belch that left the familiar taste of the last time he was sick in his mouth. He knew it would raise more concern and questions to stay behind instead of meeting up with his brothers, but the thought of being around seven noisy members and even louder workers made his head spin. He didn’t need to add a headache on top of a sour stomach. “I think I’ll just stay here for a while, thank you.” He could feel the air from swallowing flutter in his stomach again, to his luck, it not releasing any noise until after the stylist and crew worker left the green room. He waited till the door had been shut for a good ten seconds before scrunching one side of his face with a pained “ohhh,” hunching over to wrap his arms around his stomach. The organ curdled loudly under his hand when he put it under his shirt to rub away the nausea. He looked at himself one more time, his face now morphed into a hurt pouted, and he raised to his feet. One finale attempt to feel better, he gently tapped on his belly to get one more burp out in hopes to ease the tension inside and made his way to find his spot backstage.

Pretending he was fine while performing was something that years of experience helped him perfect, but it never stopped the constant panic that at any moment would end up puking in front of thousands of the viewing eye, this could not be his next viral moment. His tummy had been quietly gurgling under the music the whole performance, and he probably was noticeably sloppy even laggy during the choreography sections, but apparently luck had favoured him as, soon enough, the lights dimmed, calling for a short break and instead of following the rest of his members to the green room, he changed his way to the bathroom instead and locked himself into the first stall in there. Tae stood over the toilet, hand massaging his stomach again until it made a sick rumble at the bottom of his middle, travelling upwards, making the floor of his mouth pool with saliva. Now being seconds away from vomiting, he realised his two bug mistakes of the day. Number one being the regret of not telling anyone. Why does he always play this game? Why doesn’t he bury the insecurity of opening up about his sickness and stop messing everything up when he finally gets caught?Questioning himself leads to the yearning of wanting someone to hold his hair, maybe pat his back or rub his tummy until and tell him everything is fine, it turns his eyes damp. The other mistake, not being revealed until his throat is starting to close and open up while his breathing is becoming more rapid and uncontrollable. It hits Taehyung that he had gotten away without eating a bite the whole day and now that his body thinks there’s something to expel, all it has to work with is plain vile. “Oh uh.” He hiccups into his fist, stomach finally jerking. Leaving no time to ponder on any more regrets, his body forced him to bend at the waist while something acidic poured out of his mouth. The second wave came with no warning and this time his legs stumbled to hold him up and a hand slammed onto the wall to keep his balance. Having a quick break, Taehyung rushed to his knees, one arm gripping the bowl the other hugging himself while his belly began to clench, looking for anything else it can bring up. He went through a couple more rounds of productivity until it was physical impossible to vomit anything else up. There was still a heavy churning inside him, and he knew this was just the beginning, however there wasn’t time to cry about how much pain the ordeal caused him or to get his breathing back to normal. From the bathroom he could still hear the cheers of thousands of army waiting to see him again. He would have to and pretend everything was fine, even if his voice would probably sound like shit from burning with acid.

He would just have to deal.

[sugoui]

— the language he knew.

⁙ with you following in his steps, he knew there was only one way to stop you. ⁙

× soui’s note » im a sad bitch so here’s a sad fic. repost. 

p a i r i n g ⇀ park jimin x reader..or more likely, fuckboy!jimin who sees the one he loves fall apart.

t y p e ⇀ angst and light smut..or, is this what you call voyeurism?

w o r d s ⇀ 7,659.

» [ friends to lovers!au ] °˖✧

“Doesn’t it bother you to be alone?”

Through the singing of the birds and the rustling of trees, his nose scrunches in distaste; chopsticks hanging loosely from his fingers as his attention is sparked, and eyes drill into yours within the proximity of the park. Did it bother him? Eyes averting from your curious state, he looks down into his cup filled with ramen, heart twinging in something akin to pain and yet..the sun still grins happily upon the two of you. “I dunno,” he mumbles in honesty, “I’ve never had anyone by my side to begin with.”

He notices you bite your lip at that, eyes glimmering as they try to find any kind of hope for Jimin within the many thoughts of your mind, anything that could change him into moving on to a better him. “But you can try,” you push on, taking a sip from your water bottle. He watches you, watches you turn slightly in your seat as you gasp in pleasure from quenching your thirst — then sighs to himself when you smile softly at the oncoming giggling children running around in glee. “Stop playing around with girls like they’re toys, you know? Find someone who you know will be able to make you feel alive.”

He sighs, resting his elbow on the flat surface of the picnic table as he lays his chin on the palm of his hand, “but you’re the only one who can take that place.”

And he smiles at the way you bark out in laughter, rosy blush staining your cheeks as tears accumulate at the corner of your eyes from Jimin’s absurd words, and his heart flutters.

But the thing is, he wasn’t joking — and there was no way you would ever acknowledge that.

He knew there was nothing wrong with wanting someone by your side, that there was nothing wrong with falling in love and chasing your heart but there was no way he could act on his feelings for you. You’re the girlfriend of one of his long time best friend’s, you are one of his best friend’s and have been since you were children, and upon bro code and the sake of keeping this friendship sane; he refuses to destroy the boundaries, no matter how many times he feels the crippling need to.

He was devastated, heart melting into the acid of his stomach when he had heard you belonged to Jungkook years ago, and he knew there was nothing he could do to tear you two apart, to steal you away and have you in his arms so he could mutter ‘mine’ into the crook of your neck. Because of his shyness, because of his self esteem — he never had the guts to confess to you; he had always believed and imagined many scenarios of you rejecting him or spitting in his face and just the thought of that had the air clogging in his throat. He was a mess, still is a mess, and the day Jungkook invited him out for pizza and suggested that you all move into an apartment together so the circle of three you all tried to uphold throughout the years wouldn’t disassemble into many pieces, Jimin could only laugh wearily as he looked to your brightened face at the thought of finally being united indefinitely — and he accepted, even though he knew it would ruin him in more ways than one.

It started after months of living on cloud nine that Jimin began to think his pessimism was all in his head, but after witnessing the premonition hiding within the shadows of the apartment, things began to softly crumble. 

Every night through the thin paper walls, the boy tried his hardest to suffocate his eardrums with his pillows as he forbade himself to hear your muffled moans and tantalizing giggles, demanded his heart to just shut up for once from the decaying anxiety resting in the pit of his stomach that threatened to poison his mind with it’s horrendous fumes. The bed tapping against the wall from the other side made him fragile with every hit, his mind playing a broken record as he tried his hardest to fall into the arms of slumber he desperately sought for. And as time ticked in the back of his mind and repeated the scenario from every other oncoming night, he ripped the duvet off his crumbling body as he stormed out of the apartment — seeking something that would hide his inner turmoil away in the back of his pocket.

He wasn’t proud of it, but it was something that could be easily done; finding a girl, someone as desperate as him to rip off the clothes that suffocated him and just to feel loved. And even though it wasn’t real love, it was enough.

“Where were you?” He remembered that specific night clearly, the apartment lost of any light except for the street lights that flittered through the sheer curtains of the small area as you stood at the corner of the living room, arms crossed and bare feet tapping the floor like some rabid housewife.

He simply shrugged as he walked past you and tried to make his way into his bedroom quietly. He reeked of alcohol and sex, at least he assumed from the way you scrunched your nose in disgust. His hair was amiss, his lips were heavily bruised and he just felt weak, especially when you suddenly gripped his wrist harshly to stop him in his tracks — he couldn’t help but sneer. “Answer me, Jiminie.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grunted as he tried to shake off your hand in the process, “and don’t fucking touch me.”

You retracted your hand as if you had been heavily burnt by scalding water, glaring at the older boy in hurt, but instead, he focused on his previous destination before your voice froze him in his place. “Jimin,” you corrected, “you can’t do this anymore, you’ve been doing this for months. Is this really how you want to fall-?“

“What are you?” He cut in, head tilted to the side in annoyed curiosity. “My girlfriend? I don’t think so.”

He knew his words had slapped you in the face, yet, as he took his first step away from you and towards his bedroom once again, you snatched his wrist with no remorse, pulling him towards you so he could hear your thoughts and not the ones murmuring in the back of his mind — but he was having none of it.

The second your fingers sizzled against his skin, he roughly slammed you into the wall, ignoring the choked and pained gasp that fell from your lips. “(y/n), I’m only going to say this once so you better engrave these words into your pretty little head.”

You tried your hardest to free your bruising wrist from his deadly grasp, but instead, he leaned into you, lips hovering over your cheek as the toxic breath stung your eyes, and the gulp whispering in the center of your throat was heard by the one holding you captive.

“This is my life, and there is no way in hell that you would ever play me like some damn gamer watching over his avatar.” He seethed, lips drawing a portrait onto your skin with every word that spilled from his mouth, “let me live my life, as you should do yours.”

“But-“

His hand moved from your face and his fingers tapped against your lips, stopping you from making another peep; and he grinned. “You can’t expect me to follow after you and Jungkook like some lost dog–“ he scoffed, eyes glaring into your own, “and you can’t expect me to stay during the night to sleep as you two fuck every other night, that’s not how it works.”

He watched you gawk at him as if he wasn’t himself, as if he were possessed by something that caused him to change–and maybe he was, being the demons who caused him to fall in love with the never could be, and now, he had lost himself within the flames of wanting to float on clouds, to escape the reality he was living in..but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

His hand slowly lifted from taking your lips hostage and moved to cup your cheeks, his face softening as his thumb softly smoothed over the soft skin. Your eyes stared through his as they tried to find something, but with Jimin’s bucket of black paint drenching any lasting thoughts within his irises, you sighed, looking away as you placed your hand against his chest and pushed him away softly. “I’m sorry.” It was a weak whisper and your eyes were filled with regret, lips trembling from the small commotion.

But he didn’t want to hear it.

Days went on as he avoided you like the plague; he locked his bedroom door during the day and escaped into the raging strobe lights of night clubs and house parties during the night. Jungkook sent him continuous texts to get out of his bedroom, to spend time with the both of you and to stop his greedy antics of escaping into used hands, and the night he doesn’t leave the small quaint apartment — he dropped onto the lingering chest of the living room couch.

His eyes softly closed at the sound of footsteps tickling the floors of the home after a while of silence, and his heart began to beat a raging tune at finally having to face reality.

The steps soon stopped before him, and he breathed softly. “Jungkook-ah.” He plainly muttered into the leather of the sofa, “what is it?”

“I know about your feelings for (y/n).”

Instantly, the man gets up, eyes threatening to fall out of his sockets as he peered into the orbs hiding behind the black curtain of hair. “What?” He asked softly, scared of you appearing from your bedroom, and terrified of having his feelings written in his eyes as it glowed for everyone to see.

“I know how you are, Jiminie.” Jungkook crossed his arms, face finally being revealed as he ran his fingers through his soft dark locks. And the lone act caused Jimin to internally hyperventilate, because what? He knew he was a coward for fucking around every weekend with someone just to erase his feelings for a limited time, but he had also believed that because he did that, that nobody would find out — but in times like these, he can only wonder if Jungkook could read him like a book, only wonder if his whole existence was written on the back of Jungkook’s hand and that terrified him to death. “I can practically feel the longing oozing out of your body, and lemme tell you one thing.”

“No,” Jimin shook his head and frantically rose up from the couch. “I’m leaving.”

But he doesn’t get to escape, not this time, as Jungkook grabs the boy by the collar of his shirt and slams him down roughly into the fluffiness of the couch. The younger is on top of him like some tiger getting ready to devour his prey; the roles reversed from that day with you weeks ago and Jimin knew at this point, that his useless and drunk self from the past was witnessed by the beyond livid Jungkook, and he couldn’t feel any more ashamed.

There was no use fighting back, his will was lost long ago with his sanity, and with eyelids threatening to shut and look away from possessive eyes, his hands fall limp at his sides. “I know Jimin, I know you’ve been around, slept around. Used like some damn rag over and over again to the point that there are stains, but there is no way in hell I’ll let something as tainted as you blotch (y/n) with your dirtied hands.”

“Jungkook,” Jimin desperately called, small hands clutching the ones wrinkling his shirt. He knew he was a fuckboy messing around to get around, but Jungkook had it all wrong — there was no way in hell that he would ever touch you in those ways, use you as if your friendship meant absolutely nothing, and all in all, try to steal you away from him. “Those are not my intentions.” Jimin got out, but Jungkook’s eyes are written in pure thirst to murder if the opposite were to happen, and he couldn’t help but gulp at the look of pure disgust. “You know as well as I-I do that I’d never hurt her, I’d never do that to you-“

“Like hell you won’t,” the taller boy dug the lanky one further into the couch with a shove, stealing Jimin’s breath away as his chest began to ache from the abused contact, “keep your dick where it doesn’t belong, you ass. I mean it.”

And amidst the park where he sighs from the past, from something that happened months ago with horrid assumptions and lingering regrets, he gets up from the bench with his hands in his pockets — smile swiped from his visage like a hungry frog snatching some bothersome flies. “You’re leaving already?” You ask, the corner of your lips falling to show your displeasure, and he shrugs, because really, this whole meeting with you at the park was all over useless.

Ever since Jungkook confronted him, he hadn’t had the audacity to speak to you or even hang out as the circle of three like old times. There was really no way he could ever go back to how it used to be, and Jimin was sure that soon enough, his image would be ripped away from the couple who aches to be together forever without someone so useless and broken.

Without someone like him.

“There really isn’t much to say,” he admits, looking up to the sky to avoid any sort of expression you draw with the tip of your nose. He could tell that you’re scared, hesitating to tell him anything about the path he chose to walk down on, so you only giggle halfheartedly, leaning into the wooden bench as if all your worries had already fallen into evanescence.

“At least try, Jimin.” You whisper with a tiny tone, but he hears you, feels the worry interlacing with every sound that escapes your lips, “try to love someone with everything you have. Give yourself to them and only them.”

“I don’t know,” he admits, eyes glancing towards your distraught yet innocent figure, “this is the only language I know.”

“How could you do this to me?”

Jimin’s eyes softly open, yawn escaping him as he looks at his alarm clock and soon, the sound of something shattering stabs through the air.

And he flies up from his bed in an instant.

His head is beating like a drum, sending shockwaves of pain throughout his body as he instantly rubs his aching temples. Maybe the sound of danger is just something his anxiety was feeding him, or maybe he just drank too much the night before. Nonetheless, his eyes inhale the blinking 3 AM screen his phone gave him — and he forces himself to check the small apartment.

Darkness fills the small home like water, and with squinting eyes, everything seems normal. His bare feet hits against the hardwood floor with soft taps, fingers tremble as he passes the door laying open to your lifeless bedroom, and he then notices the hallway being way too eerie for comfort. At this time, you and Jungkook are usually sleeping; so seeing the both of you not tangled in sheets was a sign Jimin believed with all his heart that something was seriously wrong.

He walks into the living room where a clock ticks the silence away, and once his head peeks over to the front door — he instantly freezes.

The door is wide open, and Jungkook stares at you with panicked eyes as yours are planted into the ground. You refuse to look up, your lips are shaking as you sniffle and when Jungkook places his hand on your shoulder, you are quick to slap it away with a scoff. “Don’t touch me.“

“(y/n),” Jungkook whispers harshly, obviously trying not to wake the supposed sleeping Jimin whom was already witnessing the whole ordeal, “I was stupid, okay? What more do you want me to say?”

“Seriously?” You spit, taking a step back, “are you fucking kidding me?”

Jungkook sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m sorry, I-..I was insecure. I didn’t know what I was thinking-“

“But there was a reason, wasn’t there?”

Jimin walks a little closer, his heart shushing all his organs as he tries to listen in on the conversation. His eyebrows knit together in concentration, and when the next words manage to crawl it’s way into his ears, the boy could only smile to himself in disbelief.

“I was scared, you know? Scared that one of these days I’d find you in Jimin’s bed, terrified that the both of you would go behind my back. Scratch that, actually, I was drunk as hell and believed you two did it.” Jungkook gulps, his Adam’s apple slipping down his neck before it flies back into place. “That’s why..that’s why I cheated on you.”

Silence.

It took Jimin everything in his power not to storm into the scene and punch Jungkook’s face in. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing after Jungkook had the audacity to pretty much tell him to fuck off many months ago, yet the younger could go along his merry way and do whatever he wanted to you. Jimin was beyond pissed, and as his back presses against the wall hidden from the two at the doorway, your voice finally pierces the atmosphere.

“Get out of my sight,” you whisper shakily, “just leave.”

Jungkook glances your way in pain, and Jimin could feel the inner turmoil happening within the other man in wanting to hug you and beg for you to not leave him, but he doesn’t. He throws his backpack over his shoulder, steps out of the apartment before he bows slightly before you.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes, tone weak and fragile, “I’m so fucking sorry, but please, know that I truly do love you.”

Yet, you say nothing to his words, only nodding as you shut the door behind him and lock it down.

Jimin still stands where he is, eyes blown open as he wonders how he should approach you after seeing that. Would you cry? He was your boyfriend of a few years, and best friend of many, and he was now gone, and knowing you for so long — he knew there was no way you would take back someone whom betrayed your trust, and he honestly wouldn’t blame you if you avoided Jungkook for now on. Before he could take a step away from his hiding place, you are standing a few feet away from him, and he jumps in his place. “Shit, I-“

“Did you see anything?” You question, and his heart shatters from the way you seem so broken, so lost and tired from the world you were placed in. He says nothing, eyes reflecting your emotions like a mirror as he bites his lip in sorrow. “I see,” you comment, looking away in embarrassment, “good night, then.”

“Wait,” Jimin says before you could walk back into your bedroom, full on knowing that his next question is way beyond stupid and idiotic but he doesn’t care — he has to know. “Are you okay?”

You raise an eyebrow at the question, and he hopes you didn’t find his curiosity rude nor pathetic, but when you laugh softly as you shake your head; you throw him a thumbs up. “I’m perfect,” you assure him, continuing towards the comfort of your bedroom, “so don’t worry about me.”

He tried not to worry, but he did, and he was going crazy.

Hours, days, weeks went on as he rarely saw you around the shared apartment and he was hoping more than anything that you didn’t do anything insane inside your own bedroom. He knew that the walls haunted you, that the place you called home taunted you with the existence of your now ex boyfriend. He witnessed you wash your blankets and duvets and pretty much anything that could have touched Jeon Jungkook millions of times over and over just so you could erase his existence — and seeing you crumble before his eyes made him feel absolutely useless.

He couldn’t do anything, no matter how many times he wanted to hug you and help you through your heartbreak, he just couldn’t; and the sole reason was because both your languages of love equaled the existence of heaven and hell, the epitome of yin and yang and damn him if he ever changed your perspective on such an innocent feeling.

At least, that’s what he believed.

On one of his usual nights out, his blood ripples from the booming music vibrating within the large house. His head is bopping, hand reaching for the bottle of Mike’s as his friend laughs obnoxiously loud and snatches the soft liquor away from him. “Really, Jimin?” He smiles, “do you really think this pussy shit will have me opening my legs for you?”

Jimin chokes out a dry laugh, snatching the drink from the taller man before popping the lid open, “shut up, Yoongi.”

He takes a large swig of it, loving to feel the sweet yet toxic liquid scratch against his throat before he pulls the glass bottle away from his lips. Jimin clears his throat softly, fist against his mouth to hide any grimace he wore on his face as Yoongi throws his arm around his neck; pulling him into his chest as he cackles. “Jennie is here,” he mutters, grin evident on his features, “talk to her.”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he mumbles to himself, taking a smaller sip, “I need to be loaded before I go.”

And after the words fall from his lips, everything around him drowns into the background. He sighs to himself as Yoongi speaks beside him, obviously drunk off his mind from how much he kept yapping, and Jimin could only let himself embrace the alcohol he drank. It was always like this wherever he went, whether it was a house party or the club or maybe something simple at a restaurant during the middle of the night; Yoongi always nudged him towards a specific someone during their many mischievous spontaneities, and he would blindly follow whatever path he was assigned to for the night, well, if he agreed to it.

Which he always did, considering how wasted he had always became.

“How many would you like?”

Yoongi’s voice snaps him out of his stupor, making the boy smile as he raises his dripping glass of alcohol in the air. “Same as always.”

And before he knew it, crumpled cans lays on the island as his empty glass is already tipped over and forgotten, and his head lays on the tabletop as he tries to find any kind of comfort in the music playing around him. His mind is hazy, he feels lonely, and more than anything — he needs to feel that hole bubbling with black ink be filled with color. He somehow pushes himself away from the stool and the usual anxiety screaming at the back of his head is already drowning in the bubbling mixture of liquor. His movements are sporadic as he tries to find his usual source of drugs amidst the many people intoxicated beyond belief, and once he finds Kim Jennie giving him a look of longing from the nearly packed sofa, he grins.

It was her, it was always her who came stumbling into his arms at the end of the night. She was always there, whether it was smiling into his skin or digging her fingers deeply into his back — it was always her. But he never saw her during those intimate moments, he never kissed her nor breathed promises into her ear as he wished to do so with someone he loved so dearly, and he was okay with it, as was she. She had her motives and he had his own intentions, and no matter how far they differed, in the end, they both needed the same thing. And that was to escape.

But, as time suddenly morphs into slow motion and Jimin stops in his steps as he squints with heavy eyes towards the glowing figure popping through the front door, soon, his façade shatters as realization stabs his heart like a poisonous arrow.. a realization that things never go as planned.

His smile drops, his veins vibrate with horror as he completely forgets about the one with benefits and spins on the heels of his feet, charging up the steep set of stairs of the house like a frightened cat zooming away from it’s predator and ignoring Jennie’s angry screams of his surname.

The hallways are dimmed and few people loitered around as they sucked the other’s face off or just wanted to escape from the chaos rumbling below. He could barely breathe at this point, knocking a random door open as he stumbles inside and slams it shut — back colliding against said door as he slides to the floor with a panicked sigh.

There was no way in hell that you were in the party he always took place at, no way in hell that you barricaded the apartment just to walk right into satan’s sanctuary. You never liked parties, saying there were way too many people for your liking and that there was literally nothing to do than just sit around and waste your time — so Jimin just cannot believe he saw you pushing through dancing crowds all alone in such a dangerous place.

Should he go confront you and take you back to the apartment? Grab your hand and pull you through the chaotic home? His heart wanted to, so badly wanted to push you back into safety but his hazy mind struggled to find leverage within the want and need. Would you try to fight him once he finally showed that he did indeed care about how you were doing? Or would you accept whatever he thought was best for you? Jimin glares at the nicely made king bed, squints at the many teddy bears and the assumed purple blotched colored walls throughout the darkened room, and clenches his fists.

He felt like puking from his chaotic apprehension, wishing he could find any type of answers dangling from the ceiling that could help you into becoming a better you and definitely not an imitation of him. He shouldn’t have drank, he should have stayed home and kept you company because who knew how much pain you were in to stoop so low, even though he doesn’t know if you have fallen, he couldn’t help but worry.

And it was killing him inside.

The doorknob to the bedroom rattles, and all thoughts instantly scream as they hide in the darkest corners of his mind. “Shit,” he says under his breath, head snapping to the door that is about to open, “this room is busy—!“

“(y/n).” He hears a deep voice from the other side followed by your bubbly giggling and satan immediately shoves his fist down Jimin’s throat. He is frozen, staring at the door that softly creaks open and at a loss, he jumps into the closet and closes the louvered doors as best as he could; and holds his breath. “Stop fighting me–!”

“No,” you breathe, and he finally sees you and the mysterious man stumble into the room through the door, bites his lip so hard once the door slams shut and the light disappears. “You can’t m-make me, Taehyung.”

He could see the bright red hair, curses it with his life once it shines from the moon’s luminescence that sheered through the curtains, and inwardly groans. He knew who Kim Taehyung was, someone who grew up with you apart from he and Jungkook and ever since Jimin was a child, he built a sort of rivalry between him and the younger boy due to jealousy. Taehyung was an asshole, at least in his eyes, and he didn’t like the man one bit. But here he is, and with you.

He knew Taehyung cared about you, probably as much as him no matter how much the younger teased you — and a part of Jimin knew he shouldn’t be worried about Taehyung now of all times because honestly, he should be grateful the man dragged you out of the bubbling hell.

Taehyung pushes you into the bed, and you easily fall on top of it as you whine in distaste. “Made you.” He simply comments, plopping beside you and closing his eyes, and Jimin decides that maybe, it would be safe for him to sneak out of the bedroom and head on home without the two of you knowing he was at the party at all.

“I drank way too much,” you mumble into the blankets, and Taehyung lazily grunts a ‘I feel you’ as you turn to look at the man, “should I go home?”

Jimin’s fingers hover over the closet doors, stopping his escape as to not let himself get noticed if you were to leave, and he hears Taehyung sigh. “You shouldn’t have even came in the first place.”

“Shut the hell up,” you somehow find the courage to spit, and the other softly laughs, “I..I just wanted to—“

“Make Jungkook jealous, yeah.” A raspberry fills the room, and the bed softly squeaks, “can’t you just get over him? It’s been about two months (y/n), he’s probably forgotten you and found someone else.”

Silence ensues the small room, and Jimin internally curses at Taehyung’s words because even he himself could feel the punch to his gut. He closes his eyes, praying to the gods to stop your pain, but as always, he is ignored, and you’re already getting up from the bed. “You’re an asshole,” you softly cry, “fuck you.”

Taehyung is quick in sitting up and grabs your wrist despite his drunken stupor, “that’s not what I meant,” he quickly tries to cover, “and you know that.”

“But..” you begin, “but maybe you’re right. Jungkook cheated on me, Jimin can’t even look at me —“ said boy’s mouth falls open “—a-and I have no one left, Tae. They all find me disgusting, they all disappeared because I’m just a germ, and–“

“I never said you were disgusting,” Taehyung whispers, but with your rant, his voice is ignored.

“It just hurts, ok?” You sniffle, wiping your tears with your forearm as you swallow a choked sob. “I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so useless, should I even–“

“Shut the hell up,” Taehyung interrupts, throwing your previous words back into your face, “don’t you even dare finish that fucking sentence.”

You’re rubbing furiously at your eyes, wanting the tears to stop that you had kept shoved inside a bucket within you and Jimin can’t help but rub at his own eyes to stop them from watering. Seeing you like this, a mess, was really opening his eyes to how much you had upheld alone, and he felt like complete and total shit for avoiding you all this time.

“Then,” you crack out, “then help me.”

Taehyung raises a brow at that, delusional self caught between confusion and just saying yes, “how?”

“Have sex with me.”

Jimin jumps up in shock, head hitting the closet door as he quickly muffles his yell of pain. He could see Taehyung look frantic, staring at the closet with bulging eyes and lips trembling while your eyes stayed glued onto the boy before you. “Hey,” Taehyung says, weary smile on his lips, “did you hear that-?”

“Don’t change the subject, Kim Taehyung.” You bite, and Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, eyes downcast as he tries his hardest to avoid any contact, “answer me.”

Jimin’s teeth stabs into the skin inside his mouth as his fingers tremble. What in the world were you saying? He didn’t want to see any of this go down, he didn’t want to watch you ruin yourself or make any mistakes in trying to forget your love with Jungkook. He is careful as he slightly opens the doors to the closet, wanting to see your expression or even Taehyung’s — but all he could see, was how horrified the latter’s features were.

“(y/n), you know I can’t do that.” He mutters, but your drunk self had smart ass written all over it.

“Huh?” You grunt, hand going towards your ear is if it would let you hear better, “what did you say?”

“This isn’t you,” he speaks up, “we’re both drunk, (y/n), and you’re hurt — I get that.” He states, and your shoulders visibly slump. “I get that you’re in pain, only wanting to forget about what happened but it’ll just be gone for a few minutes; a few minutes that you’ll never get back until the pain comes back once again. Do you really want that?”

Jimin applauds Taehyung in his head, thankful that at least the man had a brain during these difficult situations. Your sniff then gets Jimin’s attention, and Taehyung quickly sits up before you. “Y-you’re a liar.” You croak, “y-you said that you’d always do anything for me since we were children, and—“

“But not this,” Taehyung is desperate, hands cupping your cheeks to wipe the trickling tears away, “please, (y/n), anything but this.”

With Jimin’s better view, he sees you smile softly as you push Taehyung’s hands away as they hesitantly fall back to his sides, watches you wipe your own tears away with your hands as you then rub the damp skin on your skintight dress. “Thanks for everything, Taehyung.” You say, bowing slightly as you hold in a choked sob, “goodbye.”

And as you weakly turn to the locked door to take your leave, Taehyung grabs your shoulder and turns you to him. His front was absolutely destroyed, and enigma paints onto his skin as bright as the color of his hair. Jimin knew at this moment that the boy had broken at seeing his best friend ruined, and that the events that were about to occur would change the future — and probably not for the good.

Your breaths are soft as your eyes glances to the hands loosening the straps to your dress on your shoulders, you sniff when the simple cloth glides down your arms to reveal your breasts, and large hands grip your shoulders as the dress drops dead on the floor to reveal you in all your glory for both boys to see.

“No,” Taehyung murmurs, “I should be thanking you.”

Calloused skin touches your bosom, and you whine softly from the foreign grope. Jimin doesn’t know what to do but watch, watch Taehyung look at you with so much adoration Jimin believed he never had and just watch euphoria spear into your veins. It isn’t long until Taehyung dives in to kiss you, to let his hands wander around the soft expanse of your body as he pulls you in close, and all Jimin can do is watch.

He wanted more than anything to ruin the doors from it’s hinges and rip Taehyung away from you, he wanted to do so many things and stop the atrocity happening before him but he just couldn’t. He is glued into his place, eyes averting here to there and the demons inside him giggles into his ears. 

The boy felt pathetic, useless as time ticked above his head and Taehyung is now ramming into you like there is no tomorrow, literally making you grip the sheets beneath you and scream into his bruised lips. Maybe it was hours, no, possibly years that roared on and the ending was no where in sight, and all Jimin could feel..was useless.

His heart was palpitating, he was in pain and he couldn’t do anything to stop it, to stop you and your decisions, to stop his disgusting ass from getting hard just by seeing you cry and writhe beneath Taehyung.

When you two finally stopped, the sun was waking up from it’s slumber, and Jimin shoves the closet doors open only to find you both naked on the bed. Taehyung is hugging you as if he were scared to lose you, and you hugged him back in your slumber and the lone image sparked reality within him that he couldn’t help but cry silently.

He finally closes his eyes, opens the door to the hallway and just all over breathes the air that could probably help him be sane. And as he walks down the stairs, he sees Jennie standing there with her back to the wall and her arms crossed, bitch face on full blast as she scoffs. “Pathetic,” she sneers, and Jimin only grins.

“Shut up,” he spits, “it’s none of your business.”

With hands shoved in the large pocket of his hoodie, Jimin walks down the streets of the busy city with only one destination in mind.

The incident at the party happened weeks ago, and Jimin noticed you disappearing from the apartment more often now. He didn’t like the path you were walking down on, and he could only briefly wonder if this is how you felt when the roles weren’t reversed. Ever since that day, all the boy could do was watch you from afar — going back to phase one and never moving an inch from it. But, despite that, there was one thing he learned from the fate he had to face, and that was..expect the unexpected.

Like now.

“Okay, do me a favor.” Jimin says after he takes a sip of his coffee, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he peered at the one before him, “you want me to what?”

“Help me,” the man clad in dark wear begs, burgundy beanie hiding his hair, “help me get back with (y/n).”

Jimin is flabbergasted, and maybe he expected this and possibly more, but still, it shook him to the core. The bells to the coffee shop jingle as more passerby lost the battle between not wasting money and the scent of delicious coffee, and Jungkook could only look to the door frantically in hopes that it wasn’t the only person he desperately wanted to see.

Which is obviously you.

“You have balls, you know that?” Jimin comments, sinking into his seat as he leers at Jungkook, “after what you have done; you expect her to fly into your arms and forgive you. Crazy, you know?”

“I know,” Jungkook sighs, and at this moment, Jimin actually takes a chance to inspect the younger man more. His eyes are darker than before, skin pale and body thin — he looked sick, yet, he still stood strong. Jimin knew that the break up wasn’t easy for both of you, hell, he even watched you two fall in love through the years. He knew it, but what he believed, was that the one sitting before him, is beyond feeble. “I know I did wrong, but just one more chance, and–“

“You do know,” Jimin cuts him off, “that she’s seeing Taehyung, don’t you?”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, and as hard as he tried to reply to Jimin and just find words, he doesn’t. A frown crawls onto his visage, and Jimin’s eyes glide to the fists clenching too hard for comfort. “You’re lying,” he growls, “she would never do that–“

“I heard them, Jungkook.” Which technically isn’t a lie, considering he had front row tickets to the porno. “Things change, and you’re just too late.”

Jungkook’s coffee shakes in his hands and he grits his teeth, eyes lost into another dimension as his anger bubbles in the pit of his stomach, “I’m gonna kick his ass.”

Jimin chokes a laugh. “No, you definitely won’t.”

“Then help me,” Jungkook pleads, and Jimin can’t help but see you once again; vision from the past replaying inside his mind like a mantra, “please, hyung — just this once.”

The older scrunches his nose, eyes draping to a close like curtains as he laughs in irony, “you do know you’re asking help from the one person that should be a threat to you, right?”

“I–“ Jungkook starts, words in a jumbled mess before Jimin raises his hand for his old roommate to shut his mouth.

“I won’t help you.” He then leans in closer, voice soft yet stern as he stares deeply into Jungkook’s eyes, “if you really love her, if you actually want her back — then you should prove to her why you are worth another chance. Don’t be asking anyone for help, when it’s your mess to clean.”

The rest of the evening goes by in silence, just the two boys drinking their coffees and eating their pastries as the evening rush zoomed by the shop. Jimin knew he was being harsh, maybe a little selfish, but he felt it in his heart that the words he spoke needed to be said.

As the car slides into the entrance to the large apartment building, Jimin thanks the other before he opens the door, and stops when Jungkook’s defeated voice slithers into his ears. “If you won’t help me, then do me this one favor.”

Jimin turns in his seat, annoyed expression stamped onto his face as he inwardly groans. “What is it?” He questions, and Jungkook grips the wheel.

“Help (y/n) pick up the pieces, protect her.”

And usually, he isn’t one to listen to others’ demands, yet here he is.

He watches you in the dark of the night as you tiptoe around the apartment, hears the soft little taps of your feet against the hardwood floor as you try your hardest to slug yourself to the front door of the home. Jimin could smell the intense aroma of the alcohol you had been downing, and before he even had a chance to acknowledge what he was doing, the light flickers on and he is met with your terrified eyes.

“Ah, Jimin–“ you smile, standing still, “long time no—“

“Where are you going?” He asks, obviously not caring about the small talk you were about to throw at him.

The face you had on was similar to a child being caught stealing cookies, and you look to the ground in regret, “to a party with Taehyung.”

Jimin shivers.

He takes a deep breath, knowing whatever happened at that moment would definitely affect your friendship together in the future, but Jungkook’s words constantly echoes in his head. “Not anymore, you’re not.”

“Jimin,” you laugh, “what’s gotten into you?”

Running a hand through his unruly locks, he steps closer to you. “(y/n), you’re becoming everything you told me not to become.” He blurts, “seeing you so, so–“

You step closer, scowl decorating your mien with each passing second. “So what, Jimin?” You press, “you don’t seem to understand–“

“You don’t seem to understand, (y/n)-ah.” He points, pushing you softly, “you’re messing around with guys you shouldn’t be, you’re drinking way too much and you’re soul is just disappearing each time you leave this house!” Jimin yells, and you flinch from the tone, “I can’t let you leave anymore, not now, not ever.”

You grimace, many questions written on the tip of your tongue yet you don’t spout any of them, only tilting your head softly to the side in obnoxious curiosity. “What are you, Jimin?” You inquire, eyes sparkling with vigor, “my boyfriend? I don’t think so.”

Jimin stands there stupidly, being reminded of the words he had so blatantly stitched into your ears many months ago, and like always, all he could do is stand there and watch you slowly leave in victory. How could he have failed in his mission to stop you? Was he really that flimsy?

But, in seconds before you were able to actually open the door and leave, Jimin finally relies on his logistic side and throws his heart away; runs through the living room and tackles you into the ground as if his life depended on it. You yelp in surprise before the harsh smack of the floor slaps your intoxicated mind into soberness, and you’re trying your best to push Jimin off of you. “What the fuck,” you sscowl, “get off me!”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Jimin cries, grabbing both your arms and pinning them above your head as he lies on top of you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most, I’m sorry I pushed you away when you tried to be there for me, I’m just..I’m so fucking sorry (y/n), please understand that.” He is shaking before you, but there was no way in hell that he’d let any sort of tears fall — because right now, it wasn’t about him, but about you. “I promise I’ll be here for you for now on, but just please, please stop going with Taehyung and ruining yourself even further-“

“Then what am I supposed to do, huh, Jimin?” You scream, “there is no where else that I can go to, I don’t know how to heal or move on, and–“

“The fuck? I’m your best friend, (y/n),” he chokes, his bangs tickling your chin as he bows his head, “you can just stay with me, I’ll show you how to move on!”

He is way too frightened to look at you, but when he feels your small hand against his cheek, he instantly glances into your eyes. “You’re way too selfless, Jiminie,” you whisper as your lids softly close, to which he leans in closer to your lips, “but..show me.”

He gulps

“Show me this language you once knew.”

» all rights reserved © s u g o u i — this is a oneshot, and will remain a oneshot. all and any works created by me in the past or in the future are not allowed to be modified, reposted, or translated in any shape or form.

[super-secret-sick-fics]

ouu yes ive been so obsessed with them (osasuna) recently and there’s barely any fics for them in this department lol i wanted to see something like suna coming to school sick with the stomach flu or something and osamu taking him home to take care of him (i feel like it’s ooc for suna to go to go school if he’s not feeling well so it’d probably be one of those where it gets progressively worse throughout the day) sorry if this is too long haha

Okay!! Thank you for this request. Sorry it took so long. Honestly, I had a lot of fun with this and it ended up being so long, that I’m gonna post it in 2 parts!!

You can totally read either as a stand alone though. Part 2 should be up soon :)

Suna and I have the same birthday, so I actually kinda put a lot of myself into him in this one since we share a star sign lmao. I hope it’s not too ooc for either of them. It’s my first time writing sunaosa!

Sick at School: a SunaOsa fic

Pair: Sick Suna, Caretaker Osamu

Word Count: 3,024

Warnings: vomit & swearing & soft cuddles

Part 2 Here

_________________________________

Suna was confused.

There was a strange gnawing in his gut that wasn’t there when he woke up this morning. In fact, when he woke up this morning, he felt perfectly fine. Maybe he was a little more tired than usual, but he didn’t sleep all that well, so he brushed it off and got ready for school.

But now, he was sitting in class, his eyes burning as he tried to stay awake. It was only Monday and only the second class of the day, but he felt like he’d been at school for days already. On top of the grumbly feeling in his stomach, his brain was muddled, so paying attention to whatever his teacher was saying was taking every bit of energy he could scrounge up.

It didn’t make sense. He slept his eight hours (even if it wasn’t the best sleep), he ate a good breakfast, he was hydrated, there weren’t any tests or games coming up to make him anxious at all. So the unsteady, uncomfortable, unusual feelings he currently felt simply did not make a single bit of logical, rational sense.

And because they didn’t make sense—because there was no rational reason for him to feel that way—he ignored it.

Ignoring it proved to be more difficult than he anticipated as the fog in his brain solidified into a consistent pounding and the gnawing in his stomach started to feel more like his stomach acid was boiling. The sun shining on him through the window didn’t help any, and he started to feel rather warm. By his fourth class, occasional cramps rolled through his body, forcing him to tense every muscle in his body to keep from wincing.

When the teacher finally released them for lunch, Suna folded his arms on his desk and hid his face in the crook of his elbow, ready to take a nap. Within three seconds, he heard the chair in front of him scrape the ground, grating on his ears, and felt his desk shake as someone sat down. He adjusted his head and peeked over his arm to find Osamu staring down at him, his usual bored look gracing his features.

“Yer sick, Sunarin,” he deadpanned and took a bite of his sandwich. Suna blinked at him several times.

Sick? Was that why he felt so weird? But he wasn’t sick this morning. There was no way he would have come to school if he felt bad.

Still, it would explain why he slept poorly. It must be a fast acting bug.

“I guess so,” he mumbled and buried his face in his elbow again.

“Hmmm,” Osamu mumbled. They were quiet for a minute or two before Osamu spoke again.

“Wanna go to the infirmary?” he asked, his mouth full.

Suna looked up at him again and sighed before sitting up. The world spun around for a brief second and he closed his eyes until the feeling went away. When it righted itself once more, his stomach was hurting worse than before.

“How’d you know anyway?” he asked and rested his chin in his hand.

“You’ve been lookin’ bad all mornin’. Wasn’t hard to tell.” Osamu shrugged. His sandwich was gone and he started making his way through the onigiri he most likely made himself. The fact that Osamu could tell he wasn’t feeling well from across the room made Suna blush. Or maybe he had a fever?

“Plus,” Osamu continued, “Tsumu’s home right now with a pretty nasty stomach bug. Threw up all over his bed last night.” He scrunched up his nose cutely, probably remembering the disastrous scene from the night before. Atsumu was never good at being a sick person. Or an injured person. Or a person at all, really.

“Wouldn’t be all that surprising if ya caught it from him since ya slept over at our place last weekend.”

Suna nodded in agreement.

“What about you?” he asked. Osamu shrugged again.

“I’ll probably be spewin’ my guts out by Thursday. Usually how it goes. One of us catches something then the other is sick within the week. We’ve only been sick at the same time a handful o’ times.”

“Mmmm,” Suna nodded and put his head down once more. It was suddenly very difficult to hold his head up.

“Infirmary?” Osamu asked again. Suna shook his head.

“Can’t move,” he whined before he could stop himself. Osamu looked at him with wide eyes.

“W-well, I’ll help ya out, dumbass,” he stuttered and Suna returned the wide eyed look.

“Uh, sure. But finish your lunch first. I can wait. You should eat. Wake me up when you’re done,” he said and closed his eyes.

“Alright. Lemme know if we need to go sooner though…” Osamu said hesitantly and Suna tried to ignore the implication behind the phrase.

Just because Atsumu had a stomach bug didn’t mean that Suna did too. He wouldn’t throw up at school. The increasing nausea absolutely had to be related to the growing migraine that slammed away at his head. He definitely would not throw up at school.

Before he started overthinking himself into a downward spiral, Osamu placed a hand in his hair. Suna was tense at first, but then Osamu started gently scratching his scalp and he immediately relaxed. He was a little embarrassed, honestly. Not because this was unusual though.

Osamu knew it helped Suna with his frequent headaches, so Suna was sure he somehow knew about the incoming migraine. It was just that this was usually something Osamu did for him in much more private settings. He’d do it on the bus on the way back from away games, or in one of their rooms after school or during a sleepover. To be so affectionate in the middle of their classroom was unheard of and if Suna wasn’t feeling so poorly, he’d probably smack Osamu’s hand away.

“Ya got a slight fever there, Sunarin,” Osamu whispered gently.

“Mmmm.”

“Okay. I’ll let ya know when I’m done eatin’.”

“Mmmm.”

Within a few seconds, Suna felt himself drift off.

When he woke up again, it wasn’t because of Osamu.

A violent cramp rolled through his gut and he shot up in his seat, ignoring the startled looks of his classmates. The cramp passed quickly, but left behind a foreboding feeling of nausea so intense it left him paralyzed and glued to his seat.

A second later, he noticed that Osamu was nowhere to be found and his anxiety increased. The situation was becoming increasingly urgent and there was no way in hell he could move or speak without throwing up all over his desk.

His chest tightened and he swallowed back a gag. He needed help. He needed Osamu.

“Suna-kun?” a girl from his class touched his shoulder and he flinched. She withdrew her hand.

“O-osamu—“ he forced out and she nodded urgently and ran away and out the door. Less than a minute later, she came back, Osamu hot on her heels. She pointed to Suna and Osamu nodded before rushing over and stood in front of him.

“Sunarin?” he tried and Suna shook his head.

“Are ya gonna—“ Suna nodded before Osamu could finish his question. The eyes of all of his classmates burned Suna’s already flushed cheeks and as if to let everyone know what was going on, a gag forced itself through his body painfully and he leaned over his desk. He brought the back of his hand up to his mouth and whimpered.

“Can someone bring me a trash can, maybe?” Osamu snapped at their peers. The girl from before nodded and dashed to the corner of the room and dragged the trash can over to Suna’s desk.

Everyone froze again and stared with scared eyes at the situation unfolding. Suna shook with effort, trying to stop the inevitable. He really really didn’t want everyone to watch him throw up.

Thankfully, Osamu had his back.

“Leave?!” He shouted and everyone ran out of the room.

“I’ll bring the nurse, Osamu-kun,” the same girl said and Osamu nodded, but his eyes were focused only on Suna. They’d have to remember to thank that girl later.

“I’m sorry, Rintaro. I finished my lunch and you were sleepin’ so peaceful I thought I had time to go to the bathroom before I took ya to the infirmary,” Osamu apologized and cupped Suna’s face in his hands. His voice was much softer than a second ago. It was the voice reserved for those quiet nights that they spent chatting before they fell asleep. Or on the team bus early in the morning when everyone else was still too groggy to pay attention to them. And it comforted Suna in ways he couldn’t comprehend.

“I feel sick, S-samu,” Suna forced through gritted teeth. The swirling in his stomach grew more insistent by the second and he knew it was only a matter of time before he was leaning over the trash can.

“I know, Rin. I’m sorry. It’s okay. I’ve got ya,” Osamu smiled softly at him and brushed his hair back. He frowned when Suna unconsciously leaned into his cold hands.

“Fever got higher,” he mumbled. Suna gagged again.

“Alright, c‘mon,” he said and circled around the desk behind Suna. Osamu gently grabbed his trembling shoulders and positioned him over the trash can. People’s leftovers from lunch filled about half the bin and the smell of all the different foods made Suna dizzy.

“Rin, ya gotta relax,” Osamu sighed and forcefully rubbed between Suna’s shoulder blades.

“N-no,” Suna said stubbornly.

“Yer an idiot.”

“Y-yeah.”

“It’s gonna feel worse if ya don’t just let it happen,” Osamu tried. Suna shook his head.

“Alright well, be mad at me later, then,” Osamu muttered. Suna was about to turn and look at him questioningly, but Osamu wrapped a hand around Suna’s front and placed it on his stomach. Even the minimal contact forced a wretch that left Suna reeling.

“D-don’t,” he tried, but the request was punctuated by a painful hiccup.

“I’m sorry. Can’t do that,” Osamu responded before starting to rub up and down on Suna’s stomach quickly. The motion shook the contents nauseatingly and Suna couldn’t stop the watery burp that followed. He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

Osamu didn’t relent. He started patting Suna’s back with the other hand, forcing belch after belch. The conflicting motions wreaked havoc on Suna’s already chaotic stomach.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, before Suna grabbed Osamau’s wrist tightly.

“S-stop—hurrk. P-please, Samu. No m-mor—hic,” Suna begged. All of his limbs felt like they were about a thousand pounds and he shivered, cold despite the sun beating down on his back.

“It’s okay, Rin. I got ya,” Osamu muttered. He pried Suna’s sweaty hand off his wrist and replaced it with his hand. Suna squeezed hard when a wet belch jolted his body. His other hand grabbed the rim of the trash can in a white-knuckled grip. Osamu used his free hand to rub gently between Suna’s shoulder blades again.

Suna squeezed his eyes shut when he wretched. His throat felt tight and he tried to swallow the accumulating saliva in his mouth, only for it to come back up with a noisy gag. He opted to just drop his mouth open and let the spit fall into the trash can disgustingly.

“S-Samu—“ he tried but was interrupted by a guttural, wet, burp that left his head spinning. Two seconds later, he wretched and a weak stream vomit dribbled out of his mouth. It burned his throat and coated his mouth. The disgusting taste left him more nauseous than he thought possible and a belch gurgled in the back of his throat. He heaved, but nothing else came up.

“Ah, Rin, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry,” Osamu shushed him. Suna didn’t even realize he was crying.

He continued heaving for what must have been an eternity before another painful gag jolted him forward and brought with it a torrent of pale vomit into the trash can. At least he didn’t have to see everyone’s discarded lunch anymore. Not that his new view was much prettier.

“There ya, go Sunarin,” Osamu soothed. Suna sputtered and coughed, trying to catch his breath. His body was relentless though, and before he felt like he had sufficient oxygen, he was lurching forward with more forceful vomit pouring out of his mouth.

Suna’s body didn’t let up. It was stuck in a seemingly endless cycle of gasping breaths abruptly interrupted by a fountain of vomit forcing its way out. Eventually, he was just left heaving over the trash can, his stomach trying but failing to expel whatever might be left. Anxiety crawled up his spine and the room spun. He wanted to breathe, he really did. He just couldn’t.

“Fuck, Rin, breathe. Please,” Osamu demanded and his voice shattered through Suna’s panic. He nodded and closed his eyes to try and collect himself. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled heavily through his mouth. A minute or two of that, and he was able to take in his surroundings again.

At some point, Osamu wrapped an arm around Suna’s chest because apparently, his own arms gave out at some point and hung limply at his sides. He spit the residual nastiness out of his mouth and squinted up at Osamu.

“Can we leave?” he asked plainly. Osamu stared at him owlishly and then chuckled.

“It’s the middle of the day Rin, I can’t just—“

“Please?” he all but begged and grabbed Osamu’s arm. Osamu hesitated for the briefest of seconds before relenting with a heavy breath.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘course. Want me to call yer mom?” Osamu responded. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped off Suna’s face. Suna shook his head.

“Is it too much to ask if I can stay with you? I don’t want to risk giving this to my little sister and grandma.” His voice was quieter than he wanted, but he was wiped out. He cleared his throat and spit in the trash can. He was fading fast. All he wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep whatever bug this was off.

“Yeah okay. I’ll ask my Ma. Shouldn’t be too much of an issue since Tsumu’s sick too.” Osamu pulled out his phone and massaged Suna’s scalp. It felt so good that he leaned over and buried his face in Osamu’s stomach. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall asleep here. Hopefully Osamu’s mom would be okay with it and come quickly.

“Ma, can you come pick me and— no I’m not sick— well, if you’d just let me talk ya crazy—Ma I do have a good reason to be call— would ya stop talkin—yer damn right I’m being disrespectfu—Ma!” As Osamu argued with his mother over the phone (it was nothing new) Suna took inventory of his body.

There was no denying he was sick. That much was obvious. His head was pounding and his stomach still rolled and swirled uncomfortably. Shivers danced up and down his body, exacerbated by the sweat that coated his skin. He was sure that he had a fever. All of his limbs weighed him down and he didn’t think he had any sort of energy to move them. It was taking all he had to stay awake right now.

“Osamu-san!” The girl from before returned, the school nurse right behind her.

“Suna Rintaro, you poor boy. Caught that bug going around, I see,” he heard the nurse and pulled his face away from Osamu’s body. Blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision, he sniffed and stared at the old lady in front of him.

She stuck a thermometer in his mouth without saying a word and pulled a water bottle out from her coat pocket. While they were waiting for his temperature, Suna glanced at Osamu, who was now leaning against the desk behind Suna’s. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, his other still holding the phone to his ear as he continued listening to his mother rant.

Without thinking, Suna reached over and grabbed a hold of Samu’s shirt with one hand. Osamu looked down in surprise before his face softened and he put a hand on Suna’s shoulder.

The thermometer beeped and Suna winced.

“38.7,” the nurse read and pursed her lips. She pulled out some medicine from her lab coat and gave some to Suna. He grimaced. Even in his hazy state, he knew putting something in his stomach wouldn’t go over well.

“Suna-kun, you need to get that fever of your’s down. I know it’s not ideal, but please try.” Suna turned his head away. She sighed.

“Okay, but make sure you take something at home. Does someone need to call your mother?” Before Suna could answer, Osamu interrupted.

“I’ll take him ma’am,” he said, apparently off the phone with his mother.

“Osamu-kun, don’t you be thinking you can just skip out on school,” she warned.

“I would never,” Osamu charmed, “I think it’s the smartest move, ya see. Atsumu is at home with the same illness right now and so there’s no way I ain’t carrying the germs for it. Wouldn’t it be safest if I go home too? Before I infect anyone else. And I can take Sunarin with me.”

The nurse gave him a skeptical look, but then glanced over at Suna. She noticed his grip on Osamu’s shirt and the former’s hand firmly on Suna’s back. It must’ve made Suna look pretty pathetic because she relented almost immediately.

“Oh fine, fine. Does someone need to call your mom?”

“No, ma’am. Just got off the phone with her. She’ll be here soon. Said she’s got no problem taking Sunarin in ‘til he’s all better.” He squeezed Suna’s shoulder and Suna relaxed knowing he wasn’t at risk of infecting his little sister or aging grandmother. He sighed and smiled gratefully at Osamu.

It was comforting to know that Osamu was going to be looking after him. Because, if the swirling in his stomach told him anything, he was in for a really long night.

[doing-all-write]

you’re out

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your favorite past time is roasting Joe about how much the Yankees suck. So, when you go to a Yankees game with him and make a bet about whether they’ll win or not, you can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, they’ll win so Joe can do whatever he wants to you. 

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: SMUT (don’t interact if you’re under 18 please!), swearing, mentions of alcohol, continuous talk of how much the Yankees suck (they do, I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules!!!!). 

A/N: Hello, hi, hey, anyone else bummed there isn’t any baseball to watch?? No?? Just me?? Alright, well, have soft, baseball loving Joe to fill the void in your heart. (and once again, thank you to @diasimar​, @fairestkillerqueenofall​ and @mrhoemazzello​ for their contributions and for being in horny/yearning hell with me all day every day)

💖As always, likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💖

"NO!" 

"HA! See, that's why the Sox are the best team in the league right now and the Yankees, well, the Yankees, they suck." She took a long pull of beer as Joe’s string of curses were muffled by the material of his Yankees cap.   

Slapping him on the back, she raised her hand to get the bartenders attention. Her friend, Dylan, nodded back and slid two tequila shots down the bar toward them, not even bothering to hide their laughter at Joe, who had fully slumped over the bar and was letting his forehead bounce lightly against the wood. 

Pushing one liquid gold shot toward Joe, she pulled her own closer, watching a droplet of water fall over the edge of the lime's rind into the glass.

"C'mon Mazzello. Buck up. It's just the Yankees fifth loss of the season. Which means they’ve secured their status as the most suck-tastic team in the MLB." Smirking, she threw her shot back, quickly bringing the lime to her mouth and biting down on soft flesh, the sting of acidity biting back as she licked her lips, making sure she got every bit of salt from them. 

Watching (Y/N) lick her lips was the only thing that was enough to make Joe stop feeling sorry for himself and start feeling a different emotion. 

"Can't you have some sympathy for a mourning man? I'm dying over here. I'm slowly being killed by the thing I love most." He wasn't quite sure if he was referring to the Yankees or the more than friends feelings that he'd had for (Y/N) since the moment he’d met her. 

And her boyfriend. 

But the boyfriend was out of the picture (She'd swanned into his apartment one day, already monologuing, "So, I dumped Mitch. He told me once we got 'serious', my career would need to take a back seat so I left him, and our relationship, in the back seat of the Uber we were in.") and Joe felt like he needed to take his chance before someone else came into the picture. 

Laughing, she reached her hand up to the Sox cap she wore, twisting it around so the brim was facing towards the back.  

Joe almost choked at the action.  

"Joe, if you don't take that shot right now I'm calling the cops because I'm pretty sure that's alcohol abuse to leave a perfectly good free shot sitting in front of you." Dylan raised an eyebrow as they finished wiping down the last glass they had pulled from the crate they'd brought from the kitchen.

Ripping his gaze from (Y/N)'s form, he hurriedly threw it back, scrunching his face up in an exaggerated fashion as the burn of the alcohol streaked down his throat and warmed his stomach. Popping the whole lime slice in his mouth he heard her laugh,

"Joe! God, how many times do I have to tell you that you don't have to put the whole lime in your mouth?" 

"When you stop laughing every time I do it." He admitted as he delicately placed the mangled husk of said lime on his napkin. Dylan shuddered as they touched the very edge of Joe's napkin to let it fall into the trash can behind the bar.  

Shaking her head, she swiveled in her chair to face Joe, "So. I have a proposition." 

Please let it be that she things we should be together forever and get married. Or that she proposition me for sex. Either one. 

"You know how I scored those tickets to the Yankee's/Sox's game for next week?" 

Shaking himself from the imagery of shoving a piece of wedding cake in (Y/N)'s face, Joe nodded, taking another gulp of beer. 

"Well....since you're my best friend who I love dearly," she placed a hand on his thigh, smiling, and Joe knew he would do whatever she wanted. 

"I was thinking we could make it extra interesting." Her heart was racing at just the small action she had accomplished. Feeling Joe's thigh muscle tighten as she laid her hand on it made something deep in the pit of her stomach tighten as well.

Since she'd broken up with Mitch it freed her up to do things she'd always wanted to do. To focus on her career, her friendships, herself and on the fact that she wanted her best friend, Joe Mazzello, to absolutely wreck her in the bedroom. 

The first time she'd envisioned it, she'd almost drained the new pair of batteries she'd put in her vibrator and since then she'd been falling without a parachute. The only thing that kept her from ripping the cord was the fact he was her best friend. They spent all their time together, what if it went wrong? It was a silly fear, she knew if anything were to happen they’d work through it like they always did, but it still bugged her that something so trivial was stopping her from potentially jumping into the best relationship she'd ever had. 

Besides, she'd do anything for Joe and she knew he’d do anything for her. They'd picked each other up from the airport, taken care of each other when they were sick or hungover and once Joe had plant sitted for her. 

(The key word there being once. She'd come back to all of them dead. "Joe...they're succulents. How do you kill those?")

She was nervous the fantasies she'd cooked up in her head would never live up to the reality that was in front of her, but recently she'd noticed little things that were starting to embolden her. 

Lingering gazes, holding on for a second too long during hugs. Once, it had been late, and they'd pulled apart from a hug only for their eyes to lock. Her breath caught as the thought oh god it's actually happening flitted through her mind, but Joe just gave her a gentle nudge toward the door urging her to get into bed as soon as possible. 

But, she was nervous that she was reading too much into these signs. 

If (Y/N) had been able to read minds she would have been very confused to see Gwil in his "I Want To Break Free" get up but it was Joe's surefire way to get rid of an erection and with (Y/N)'s hand so close on his thigh, he knew he needed to do something desperate to settle himself down.

Bringing herself back to the feel of Joe's thigh under her hand, she peered up at him through her eyelashes and shot him a smile, "I think we should place a bet." 

"A bet?"

"Yes, Joseph. A wager. On this ball game."

"Alright, what are the terms?" Joe leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the way the sleeves of his t-shirt stretched against his biceps. She swore he bought his shirts a size too small just to fuck with her. 

"Well, if the Yankees lose, which they will because they suck," Joe made an indignant noise in the back of his throat, "then you have to do anything I want."

Joe's eyebrows almost shot into his hairline, "And if the Sox’s lose? Which they will," he declared pointing a finger in (Y/N)'s face, causing her to lean back in her chair, batting his finger out of her face, "then you have to do anything I want." Crossing his arms behind his head he settled back into his chair, smug smile firmly planted. 

"It's so on, Mazzello." She declared as she stuck her hand out for him to shake. As his hand slid into hers, she could have sworn they both held on for a beat longer than was absolutely necessary. 

~~~

In (Y/N)'s opinion it wasn't really summer till she went to a baseball game. The artificial green of the grass, the sun shining down, the crack of a baseball hitting a bat. There wasn't a scent more intoxicating than that of popcorn, hot dogs and cheap beer. 

Which was probably why Joe had sent some serious side eye her way as she filled her lungs and drank in the scene before her, settling into their seats, hands clasped around flimsy plastic cups filled with overpriced alcohol.  

"What? You don't love the smell of a ball game?" she shot him an incredulous look.

"No, I do. But I don't try to inhale the whole stadium through my nostrils." 

Reaching a hand around she knocked his Yankees hat off his head, laughing as he scrambled to pick it up and jam it back on his head. Turning, she saw he had his best scowl prepped as he glared at her, 

"How dare you try to knock the best good luck charm the Yankees have off my head?" 

"Because I need my bathroom cleaned and I want you to do it." she shrugged as she took a sip of what was mostly foam. Gotta love baseball beer.

"I can't even be that mad at you because you did bring me to a baseball game that my team is going to whoop your teams ass in so, thanks, (Y/N)." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her into his side as she leaned a head against him, smiling and wanting to  stay in that position for as long as possible. 

"Oh, you two are just the cutest couple! Reminds me of myself and Harold at our first baseball game." 

Both their heads turned in perfect unison to look at the form of a woman cautiously making her way down the stairs, cane in one hand, her grandson holding her other arm and mouthing I'm sorry at them over her head.  

Laughing self-consciously, (Y/N) started to disentangle herself from Joe's embrace, "Oh. Ah. That's really not-"

"Thank you ma'am, that's really sweet of you. Were you and Harold married a long time?" Joe interjected, keeping his arm firmly wrapped around (Y/N)'s shoulders.

Stopping in the middle of the aisle, the woman’s eyes grew soft, "Oh yes. We were friends for the longest time until finally one day he kissed me on the cheek. I remember I turned to him as he turned bright red and looked ready to melt into the floor. But I just told him 'It's about damn time!' And planted one on him myself." She laughed at the memory as her grandson rolled his eyes,

"C'mon Grandma. Let's get to our seats. The first pitch is gonna be thrown soon." 

Waving goodbye, they watched the woman toddle down the stairs. Lifting one thigh and then the other, (Y/N) felt her skin unstick and prayed to god she wouldn't have butt sweat once this thing was over. 

"That's cute. But also it sounds like she was a huge hussy back in her day." 

Snorting, she slapped Joe in the chest, "Really, Joey? You're going to call a sweet old lady a hussy for sharing a cute story about her and her husband?" 

"I'm just calling 'em like I see 'em!"

"And that old woman is a hussy?"

"She's the one throwing herself at men!" Joe protested as he tried to hold back his laughter. Soon, they both were laughing so hard no noise was coming out, just their whole bodies shaking with mirth.  

"Okay, okay...oh my god. I will give her credit, that's a very sweet story." (Y/N) admitted as she leaned back in her seat, adjusting her own lucky Sox hat.

"It is. I've always liked being friends with someone first before dating them." Joe admitted as he slid his eyes over to meet (Y/N)'s. Staring back at him, she felt her heart stop as his gaze burned into hers. Nodding, she mumbled, "Yeah, me too."

His lips twitched upward as he broke the gaze and leaned back in his seat, throwing one arm over the back of her chair and propping his foot up on the seat in front of him, "I think it's gonna be a great ball game."

She could only nod mutely as she tried to pick up the scattered fragments of her thoughts. 

~

"C'mon. Go. GO. GOGOGO. DROP IT...AHH FUCK." Her head dropped into her hands. She was so sure that the hit the last batter had was going to be the one that got the Sox the win but the Yankees outfielder had just managed to snag it.     

Beside her, Joe was on his feet, pumping his fists in the air and cheering along with every other Yankees fan in the stadium causing the floor to rumble underneath her Converse. 

"C'mon (Y/N), you're missing the best part!" Joe laughed as he tugged on the back of her shirt. Lifting her head up she was met with confetti raining from the sky and Frank Sinatra crooning "New York, New York" over the stadium speakers as the crowd started to flood out of the ball park. 

"You're an insufferable bastard."

"Yeah but I'm your insufferable bastard." Joe cooed as he patted her head, snickering as she rolled her eyes and dodged out from underneath his patronizing hand. 

"Whatever, Mazzello. Let's head out." Pulling her phone from her pocket to call a ride, her brain was already going a million miles an hour, thinking about what Joe would possibly make her do. Just the kind of thoughts she was having were causing her to shift in place, trying to find some relief for the ache that was building between her thighs. 

Joe was consumed by his own thoughts at the opportunity before him. He didn't want to make (Y/N) do anything she didn't want to do but at the same time...he wanted to kiss her. He'd almost been disappointed that the kiss cam hadn't landed on them. 

Both of them were lost in their own world and as such didn't realize that the herd moving to exit the stadium had stopped which caused Joe to run into someone which made (Y/N) bump into Joe with an "Oof" 

Reaching an arm back, he wrapped his hand around her arm, steadying her as she tottered on the balls of her feet. 

"Without even looking back, that's impressive." 

"What can I say? I'm an impressive sort of guy." (Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat considering what else about Joe was impressive but immediately snapped out of it when he turned to face her over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows up and down. 

Rolling her eyes, she shoved him forward, "Let's just get home so I can sooth my wounds with booze and maybe some leftover Chinese." 

"Wait, but we had Chinese at my place, none of it is at yours." Joe wrinkled his brow. 

"I know, that's why we're going over to your place. You have all the good food and booze." She shrugged as they pushed through the gates and walked to the bus that would take them home.   

"You always say that and then I run out of food and have to buy more. Why can't you ever have the good food and booze?" he grumbled.

"Because I can't afford to have you eating and drinking all my stuff." 

~~~

Shoving his door open, they fell into Joe's apartment, letting the artificial coolness of air conditioning wrap itself around them. Both of them letting out involuntary sighs at how good it felt after being crammed onto a hot bus with more warm bodies than seats.

"Time to munch..." (Y/N) clapped her hands together before she opened the door of Joe's fridge and pulled out a Chinese takeout container, popping it open, mouth watering instantly at the sight of the golden dumplings waiting for her, like little doughy presents.

Before she could even grab a fork, Joe's hand wrapped around the container, whipping it up and over her head, causing her to turn in place so she was witness to Joe shoving a dumpling in his mouth, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I not tell you? Dumplings are for winners." He said through a mouthful of her dumplings. 

"You're the meanest person in the whole world." She declared as she turned her back on him to rummage around in his fridge, only to emerge with two beers in her fist. 

Joe couldn't help but admire how she looked in his kitchen. He couldn't help but think what it would be like to cook with her. Or cook for her. Having her sitting on the counter as he made her a home cooked meal, stealing kisses in between stirring and chopping, making small talk, kidding around with each other, he wanted that so badly he felt his heart seize with longing. 

"Well, I guess we can't put it off any longer." She sighed as she slowly placed the beers on the counter. The look on her face was so melancholy, Joe put down the takeout box and felt his heart leap up into his throat, "What do you mean?"

"I mean the bet. I lost. Which, I would like to point out, how brave I am for admitting that without retching," Joe rolled his eyes, "But I get to do anything you want me to do so, hit me Joe. What do you want me to do?" 

Peering up at him through her eyelashes she searched his face, hoping against all hope that he would say "get on your knees" or "get into my bedroom". She knew that was wishful thinking on her part but she couldn't help it. Watching his Adam's apple bob up and down as he took a huge swallow, she almost didn't hear what he muttered next, 

"Want you to kiss me." 

Her eyes shot up to his.  

"I mean, only if you want to. I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with but, fuck, (Y/N), I've wanted to kiss you since I first met you and I don't know, it feels like there's been something more between us lately and I didn't want to hate myself forever for not just, going for it, so, if you want, I'd really like it if you kissed me." He ended this speech with a shrug, fiddling with his fingers. 

"Joey," she breathed out and Joe's form stiffened as he waited for her rejection, 

"I've waited for you to ask me that for so long." she admitted, almost laughing at how wide Joe's eyes became. 

Blinking he stepped forward, "Then get over here and kiss me."  

Eyes widening, she stepped up to Joe, their arms hanging at their sides as they contemplated each other. Unsure, she tilted her head up. Joe leaned his head down, lips ghosting over hers as he whispered, "Are you sure?"

She just nodded and felt her heart clench as a smirk grew over Joe's face. 

Reaching a hand up, he cupped her cheek, letting his thumb stroke over the soft skin. Closing the gap between them, he placed his lips against hers, gently. Not enough to really count as a true kiss, his last ditch attempt to give her an out if she wanted. 

The electricity zipping through her body let her know that this was meant to happen. 

Letting out a small moan, she reached her arms up to wrap around Joe's neck, dragging him down more fully against her lips. Twining his arms around her waist, he pulled her flush against him. Feeling her soft curves fit up against him in the most delicious way possible.

Deepening the kiss, he nudged her back toward the counter. She made a small noise in the back of her throat as her back hit the edge. 

"Jump," Joe breathed and she did what she was told, leaping up onto the counter, spreading her legs as Joe stepped between them, running his hands up and down her thighs, giving them a squeeze when he reached where she wanted him most. 

"Such a good girl taking my directions." he breathed into her mouth. Her head dropped back as she let out a groan. Joe smiled at the effect. 

"You're gonna ruin me, Joe." she laughed weakly as one of her hands intertwined with one of Joe's. 

"That's the plan, darling" he said devilishly, bringing his other hand to the back of her head, pulling her down to reconnect their lips. She cupped Joe's face with both of her hands, giving her all to the kiss. Letting all of her pent up want and need spill through her lips and tumble into Joe's heart.  

Letting his tongue slip through her lips, he explored her mouth. She gripped his shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him flush against the counter. Chuckling, he twined his fingers through her hair, giving it a gentle tug as he felt her body become pliable at the sensation. 

"So, you like having your hair pulled, huh?" He murmured as she mewled, scooting her hips closer to the edge of the counter, wanting nothing more than to grind her core against something, anything to relieve the ache that was building in her. 

"Mmm and you're a needy little thing too." he cooed as his hands ghosted down her body, outlining her curves. Nodding ferociously, she drapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his again as he gave her hips a squeeze. 

"Joe!" the yelp that came from her mouth was louder than she intended but she hadn't been prepared for Joe's arms to lift her from the counter and carry her into the bedroom. Feeling his chest rumble against hers she smiled, "I got you. Don't worry."

"I know. You've always had me." she breathed into his ear and Joe had to bury his head into her hair to keep from letting the enjoyment he felt hearing that shine too strongly through his face. 

Lifting his head from her soft waves, he gently laid her on the bed groaning when she stretched her whole body and smiled up at him, "Aren't you going to ravish me now?" she fluttered her eyelashes at him and felt her pulse quicken as Joe started unbuckling his jeans. 

"Sweetheart, I'm going to make sure every inch of you is screaming with pleasure." Eyes widening, she started to fumble with the buckle of her belt as Joe chuckled, "I, uh, kind of wanted to be the one who did that." Lifting her eyes she saw the blush in his cheeks and smiled, "Then come here and get into these pants, Mazzello." 

He pounced on top of her so quickly she wasn't even sure how it happened. His fingers making quick work of her belt and shimmying her shorts down her legs.  

"God, you're gorgeous." Joe's eyes shone as he drank her form in. When he got to her head his lips quirked up, "You're gonna have to lose the hat, babe. Besides, if anything you should be wearing the hat of winners." he joked as she rolled her eyes. Then, a wicked idea overcame her.     

Rising up on her knees, she placed her hands on Joe's shoulders to breath into his ear, "You mean like this hat?" Grabbing the hat Joe was still wearing, she flung her Sox hat to the floor and replaced it with his well-work Yankees hat. 

Seeing (Y/N) wearing that hat caused Joe's cock to twitch in his boxers and he let out a soft whine as she placed a hand on his thigh, "Do you want to fuck me in your Yankees hat, Joey?" 

"God, yes. I don't care how stereotypically male that makes me but, fuck, (Y/N), yes." his hands came up to her face, pulling her into a deep kiss that was interrupted by his moan as her hand started palming him through his boxers. 

"Fuuuck (Y/N)" he breathed out as his head fell against her shoulder. Smiling she kissed his neck as she tugged at the band of his briefs, "I want these off" 

Again, it seemed like Joe moved so fast she wasn't sure how it happened. In the blink of an eye he was laying on her bed, briefs off, shirt off and beckoning her closer with one finger, his eyes never leaving hers. 

Smirking, she crawled over to Joe. Straddling him, she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, being careful not to mess up the hat that was positioned on her head. Joe smirked at the action but his jaw quickly dropped when he saw her. Her pink bra and floral panties somehow making the hat on her head even filthier. 

She felt his cock twitch underneath her heat and groaned at the contact. Leaning forward she pressed a kiss to Joe's lips then slowly started kissing his neck, down his chest and finally to his thighs where she most wanted to be.    

Biting his hips, Joe finally hissed "(Y/N), please, wanted this for so long..." Taking pity on him, she wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock and started working him over. The way Joe threw his head back and groaned was all the praise she needed.

Even though, as she bobbed her head up and down, Joe was heavy on the praise, "Such a good girl, making me feel so good, babe. God, don't stop..." when she took his entire length in her mouth, she felt Joe tug on her arm, bringing her back up to his lips, he kissed her deeply. 

"My turn," he murmured as he pressed her down into the bed. Smiling, she snuggled down into the pillows behind her and sighed as Joe pressed kisses all over her tits, reaching his hands behind her and making quick work of her bra.

She ripped it from her body and threw it to the floor as Joe danced his hands down to her cunt. 

Stroking the inside of her thigh softly, dragging his fingers closer and closer to her entrance she whined, "Joe..." lifting his head from her chest, he smiled,

"What? Not moving fast enough for you?" She nodded frantically and Joe's eyes never left hers as he moved a finger to run up and down her folds.

With a gasp she threw her head back and Joe growled, "Shit baby, you're soaked. Who did this to you?" 

"You...you did Joey. You always make me this wet."

"Always, huh? I think I'd remember if we hooked up before this." he smirked. 

"Every time I touch myself I imagine you doing it..." she murmured as she bucked her hips up to get his fingers closer to her entrance which meant she missed how comically wide Joe's eyes got and was caught off guard when he planted another kiss on her lips. 

"Those are the hottest words I could ever hear come from your mouth." she breathed out a laugh and then she felt her eyes rolling into the back of her head as Joe slowly inserted two fingers into her cunt. 

"F-fuck Joe, that feels so good..." Her voice trailed off as Joe started pumping his fingers into her slowly, relishing in the feel of the walls of her pussy tightening as he sought out the one spot that would make her lose her mind. After a particularly deep thrust that had her eyes rolling into the back of her head Joe leaned down to kiss her neck. 

Speeding up his fingers she felt her cunt clench, between his fingers and the way he was kissing on her neck, she knew was going to cum soon. 

"Joe...I-I'm gonna cum" 

"Good, want you to. Want you to cum around my fingers and then around my cock. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart? Want to feel how good I make you.” 

Making a whining noise in her throat she reached a hand up to the back of Joe's neck to reconnect her lips with his.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her he started to swirl his thumb over her clit and she moaned into his mouth, "Fuuuuck, Joe, don't stop"

"Wasn't planning on it" he chuckled into her mouth as he felt how close she was. Pressing more firmly on her clit, (Y/N) saw stars and she didn't even have time to warn Joe before the waves of her orgasm crashed over her. 

As she came down, she was aware of tightly she was gripping onto Joe's hair and let go with an apology. 

"Never apologize for pulling my hair when I make you cum like that. Truly, it's a small price to pay to see someone as beautiful as you cum because of me." Blushing, she reached her hands down to shimmy her panties down her legs and throw them into her room. 

Grabbing her hand, he gave it a kiss and they stared deep into each others eyes, she reached a hand down, brought his fingers up to her mouth and licked them clean of her juices, keeping direct eye contact the whole time. 

Joe's eyes darkened, "I need to fuck you. Now." 

"What are you waiting for then? Please fuck me, Joe." she cooed as she brought his fingers out of her mouth with a pop. Reaching her hand down, she pumped his cock a few times as Joe growled. 

Batting her hand away, he guided his cock to the entrance of her cunt, swiping it up and down her folds, "God, there's nothing hotter than getting my cock wet with your own juices, baby girl." 

"Fuuuuuck, Joe" she whined as she brought her hands up to rest on his biceps, squeezing them and laughing when she felt him flex, "Did you just purposefully flex?" 

Winking at her he pushed himself fully inside. Giving them both a minute to adjust, he brought his forehead down to rest on hers. Both of them closing their eyes and breathing each other in, it was the most vulnerable moment they'd  shared with each other. 

This one moment, where they were closer than they had ever been, it felt so right they couldn't quite believe that in a city of thousands, they fit perfectly together. 

"Joe?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" 

"If you don't move soon I'm gonna be pissed." 

Laughing, he kissed her nose and started to thrust. Throwing her head back, she let out a string of curses as her hands clutched the sheets, feeling the walls of her cunt clench around Joe's length. 

"Fucking hell, feel better than I ever imagined."

"You feel a hell of a lot better than my vibrator" she choked out as Joe let out a single bark of laughter, thrusting harder. He lifted her legs so they were over his shoulders, enjoying how the new angle let him get deeper inside her, and by the way (Y/N) had started babbling about how close she was, he had a pretty good idea it felt amazing for her as well. 

"Fuck, Joe. Rub my clit. I'm so close. Again..." a moan swallowing the rest of her sentence as Joe started rubbing her clit. 

Seeing her writhe underneath him, knowing he was the cause of her pleasure and the fact that this was all happening while she was wearing his Yankees cap was almost too much for Joe.

"Sweetheart, I'm close.." he choked out as (Y/N) nodded, "Me too, want to cum with you..." she murmured and Joe nodded, thrusting harder as she brought a hand up to tweak her nipples. 

Pressing more firmly into her clit, (Y/N) felt her pleasure overtaking her body and succumbed to the orgasm that swept over her. Feeling her walls clench around his cock was the final push Joe needed. With a final groan, he filled her with his love, taking a minute to catch his breath. 

When they finally both opened their eyes they burst into giggles, 

"Hey."

"Hi" Joe breathed out as he tweaked her nose

Scrunching her nose, she reached her head up to press a gentle kiss to Joe's lips. Pulling himself from her, they both moaned at the loss of contact and after cleaning them up, he crawled into bed next to her, pulling her into his arms. 

"God, that was...amazing"

"And long overdue in my personal opinion." 

"Yeah, ya think?" he pressed a kiss to the top of her head then pulled back with a disgusted noise.

"What? Does my hair smell bad? Do I have lice or something?" pulling back she looked up into Joe's eyes. 

"No, this hat smells nasty. I can't believe you wore it when we had sex, who would do that?" 

"Don't lie, it was the one final push you needed to cum, yeah?" 

"I don't have to admit anything to you" he sniffed as she curled up into his arms.

Nuzzling into his chest, she placed a soft kiss right on top of his heart. Humming, he drew her in closer, closing his eyes and locking into his memory how it felt to hold her in his arms. 

His eyes snapped open, “Wait, hold on,” he jumped up, ignoring her protests as he rummaged around on the floor. 

“Joe, c’mon, come back and snuggle.” Pouting she turned only to be met with the lens of Joe’s camera focused on her. 

“JOE! I’m NAKED! What is your PROBLEM?” Scrambling, she threw the sheet over her form, peeking over the edge so only the hat and her eyes could be seen. They narrowed as Joe laughed, taking picture after picture of her. 

“Holy shit, there’s a really great one here. I think I managed to capture the exact moment your soul left your body when you realized I was taking pictures...” his voice trailed off as he swiped through the photos he’d taken, smile growing bigger with each one. 

“Glad you’re enjoying those horrible pictures. You better burn those Joe, I’m serious.” Pulling the sheet down to her neck, she fixed him with her best glare. It didn’t last long. 

How could it when he looked up at her with adoration radiating from his eyes? 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

Her indignation drained and she sat up, patting the bed, “Come back to me. Please?” 

Joe climbed into the bed, kneeling in front of (Y/N) to kiss her softly, “I’ll always come back to you.” 

Hiding her head in his shoulder, she pressed a kiss to the soft skin there, fighting back the tears she felt welling up suddenly. Pulling back she heard the click of the camera one more time. 

Joe lowered the phone, “So beautiful.” 

Taking the phone from him she turned around, her back against his chest as she held it aloft, “C’mon, first picture as a couple.” 

Smiling, they took one good one and the rest were a mess. One or both of them pulling ridiculous faces. A series of pictures where Joe was obviously playing with her boobs. Their favorite one was where (Y/N) was mid-laugh and Joe was looking at her, the love between them written so clearly in their eyes that they felt like they were infringing on a private moment. 

Looking at it, (Y/N) turned to Joe, “You think we’ll look at each other like that, even when we’re old?” 

Chuckling, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “Absolutely. You and I are gonna be like that old lady at the baseball game and her husband.” 

“Are you calling me a hussy?” 

“Again, I’m just calling them like I see them.” 

“I feel like you shouldn’t call your own girlfriend a hussy.”

“Oh so you’re my girlfriend now?” Joe rolled on top of her, peppering her face with kisses as she laughed. 

“Well I won’t be if you keep calling me a hussy!”

“What if I only called you a hussy when we’re getting sexy?” 

Pausing, she reflected on Joe’s proposition, “Hmm, I guess that could be okay. But can you not call it Getting Sexy? That makes it decidedly not sexy.” 

“Alright, we’ll come up with something good. Though you should definitely always wear The Sex Hat whenever we fuck.” 

Sighing, she flicked the brim of the hat she was still wearing, “I set a dangerous precedent by wearing this, huh?” 

“Darling, you have no idea how dangerous you in that hat is.” Joe growled as he nipped her neck.

“Mmm, I think I have a pretty good idea.” She smirked as she tilted her head to the side, “It’s just enough to distract you so I can do this.” 

“Wha-” Joe hit the bed with an grunt as she slide out from underneath him and raced out of the room. 

“I’M GOING TO EAT THE LAST DUMPLING AND YOU CAN’T STOP ME.” 

Pushing himself up, Joe raced after her into the kitchen, knowing he’d be too late to stop her but he wanted to be around to imprint the image of (Y/N) naked in his kitchen into his brain for forever. 

[eratobard]

A Night to Remember: Chapter 3

Now available to read. Patreon members had early access. Check out my patreon for early access to other stories.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2  

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geraskier

Rating: T

Length: 2K

Tag warning: brief sexual fantasy description, canon violence ~~~

Jaskier was sunny, as always, when he greeted Geralt the next morning. “Well, I had quite the night last night. Truly a night to remember. Too bad you missed out on it.”

Geralt ignored him as he tightened Roach’s saddle. 

Jaskier arched an eyebrow, “Aren’t you curious how it turned out? Luckily, you leaving didn’t sour the ladies’ sexual drive. They were more than happy to share.”

Geralt grumbled as he loaded their belongings onto Roach. He really didn’t want to hear about Jaskier’s sexual conquests. Especially after he witnessed how Jaskier looked when he was being satisfied. It really made him want to grab Jaskier, shove him against the stable wall, and ram his cock into him, causing him to scream his name--

“Geralt!”

“Hmm?” Geralt snapped out of his fantasy, turning to look at Jaskier. The bard was frowning.

“Are you ignoring me?” Jaskier’s hands were on his hips as he stood, frowning at him.

Geralt shook his head, “Uh sorry… what was that?”

Jaskier sighed, rolling his eyes, “I asked where we are headed next.”

“There is rumor of a succubus killing men a few towns East. I am headed there,” Geralt finished prepping and climbed onto Roach, nudging him forward along the trail.

Jaskier grinned as he followed behind, “Ooo, a succubus. I thought they didn’t usually kill?”

“They don’t, unless they get greedy, or need to defend themselves,” Geralt sighed, “Either way, people are dying and it needs checked out.”

Jaskier hummed in contemplation, “I wonder what it would be like to be with a succubus… I bet it would be the best sex ever.” He looked up at Geralt, “Have you ever been with a succubus?”

“No,” Geralt growled.

Jaskier shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t see why not. Maybe you’ll have a chance with this one.” He nudged Geralt’s leg, “It could help remove that stick up your butt.”

Geralt glared at him. The bard didn’t seem phased. He smiled and pulled out his lute, strumming a few chords, “The fairer sex, they often call it… but her love’s as unfair as a crook.” He glanced up at Geralt, “It steals all my reason, commits every treason. Of logic with naught but a look.”

Geralt sighed, “Enough, I’d rather hear you sing “Toss a Coin to Your Witcher” twenty times over than that song.”

“Really?” Jaskier gasped in surprise, “I didn’t realize you hated this song.”

“...I normally don’t mind it, but I can’t stomach it today,” Geralt couldn’t bring himself to look at Jaskier. He was still embarrassed from the previous night, and his close call with confessing. 

“Ahh,” Jaskier clicked his tongue knowingly, “because of last night, right?”

Geralt groaned, placing a palm over his face. Was he really that easy to read?

Jaskier patted his leg, “Really Geralt, it happens to everyone. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Geralt grit his teeth, “Change the subject, or I’ll change it for you.”

Jaskier held his hands up, “Alright, I get it… touchy subject. If you want to talk later though… I’m here for you.” Geralt continued to glare at him. Jaskier smirked as he returned to his lute, “When a humble bard, graced a ride along… with Geralt of Rivia… along came this song…”

“Fuck,” Geralt breathed. He suddenly regretted his earlier comment as Jaskier continued to sing. It was going to be a long trip.

~~~

When they arrived at the town with the reported succubus Geralt couldn’t move fast enough to down a tankard of ale. He needed the alcohol after listening to Jaskier sing ‘Toss a coin to Your Witcher’ over twenty times during their trip. The bard knew other songs, but he seemed to be mocking him by singing the song on repeat.

Jaskier moved to his place in the center of the tavern and started his usual performance. Geralt groaned, slamming his head on the bar as Jaskier started singing ‘Toss a coin to Your Witcher’.

The bartender grinned, “Rough ride, huh?”

Geralt held out his mug for a refill, “You have no idea.”

The bartender obliged him, filling it to the very top, “You in town for the succubus then?”

Geralt sat up, nodding his head, “Yes, what have you heard about it?”

The bartender shrugged his shoulders, passing back the full cup, “Not much, just that men go in the woods, and don’t come back. People are too afraid to see what happened to them anymore.”

Geralt sighed, before downing his new glass. That didn’t sound like a succubus. It was dangerous to go on a hunt not knowing what you were dealing with, but no one else was qualified to do it. He watched Jaskier prance around the bar, winking and smiling as he performed.

Jaskier would have to wait here while he checked out the situation. When the bard finished his set, Geralt motioned for him to come over. Jaskier beamed as he plopped onto the bar stool next to Geralt, “Any news on the succubus?”

Geralt shook his head, “Not really… just that it doesn’t sound like a succubus. Men are going missing in the woods. I’m going to check it out.” He handed Jaskier a bag of coins, “Rent a room for the night.”

Jaskier frowned as he took the bag, “You’re going now? But we just got in… shouldn’t you rest? We’ve been on the road practically all day.”

“If anymore men go missing, those lives will be on me. I need to get as much information as I can and take this creature out.”

“It sounds dangerous,” Jaskier protested, “you shouldn’t go by yourself.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow, “So what? I should take you with me then?”

Jaskier pouted, “Well… I mean, someone should watch your back.”

“No,” Geralt stood up, “I can’t worry about you.”

Jaskier stood up as well, “You don’t need to. I can take care of myself.”

Geralt grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back down onto the bar stool, “No. I’m going alone.”

Jaskier frowned, “Fine. But if you take too long I’m coming to look for you.”

Geralt only grunted in response as he exited the tavern.

He followed the road to the area of the woods the bartender indicated. He studied the dirt for tracks. When he found some he followed them deep into the woods, moving slowly as to not alert any nearby enemies. 

Eventually he came upon a cave. Geralt rolled his eyes. This narrowed the creature down to about 100. Why did most creatures live in caves? He studied the surrounding area for any signs of what type of monster he might face inside. He drank a cat potion allowing his eyes to see in the dark. He saw bones scattered about the entrance. 

Bones. Cave. Missing men. He went over the list of possible enemies. There were too many. He sighed as he grabbed another potion from his belt. This one provided increased agility. He’d just have to hope for the best. He downed the liquid and unsheathed his sword, silently making his way into the cave.

He glanced around the chamber. More bones. Whatever it was, it had been hungry. He heard a voice cry out from deeper inside. His grip tightened around his sword. He scanned the area for any signs of danger. The cry got louder. It sounded like a plea for help.

His instincts prevented him from rushing forward. It could be a trap. ‘There is no helping the victim if you get killed, if there truly was one,’ he reasoned with himself.

He saw a flicker of firelight as he continued deeper. An evil cackle echoed around him as he drew closer. Shadows moved across the lit cave walls. Geralt frowned as he recognized the laugh. “Devourer,” he muttered. Ugly witches that preyed on human flesh. They loved torturing their victims before they ate them.

He heard another cry of pain. He needed to hurry. He moved around the corner, and spotted the witch cutting off it’s victims flesh. He cried out in pain.

Geralt grabbed a jar of necrophage oil he kept on him. Devourer’s were susceptible against it. It burned their skin like acid. He made sure he was close enough and threw the jar. It broke against the devourer’s back. Howling in pain it reared away from his victim, spinning toward Geralt.

Geralt raised his sword, striking the devourer across it’s naked form. It shrieked, clutching at it’s bloodied chest. It rushed forward, trying to tackle Geralt to the ground. He spun out of the way, slashing his sword at it’s back, knocking it to the ground. He slammed his boot onto it’s back, holding it to the ground as he drove his sword through its head, silencing it permanently.

After ensuring the creature was dead, and there were no other enemies around, he rushed to the man, untying him and tending to his wound. The victim thanked Geralt over and over. He nodded as he helped support him, “We need to get back and properly dress these wounds.” The man gratefully complied as he followed Geralt back to town.

After Geralt had made sure the victim had been properly taken care of, he headed back to the tavern. He found Jaskier still up, chatting up an attractive man. He frowned and made a beeline to the bar, ordering a drink.

Jaskier called out to him when he saw him, “Geralt! How was the succubus?” He stumbled as he walked over to him. His ale slightly splashed out of his tankard.

Geralt frowned as he sized up his friend. He wasn’t too drunk, but he was getting there. “It wasn’t a succubus. It was a devourer.”

Jaskier scrunched his nose, “Devourer? What is that?”

Geralt thanked the bartender for his drink before quickly downing it. He aimed to catch up with Jaskier. “A witch that eats human flesh.”

“Eww,” Jakier’s face contorted in disgust, “That’s gross. Speaking of not gross. Have you met my friend?” He turned toward the man he was talking to when Geralt walked in.

Geralt glared as he stared at his ‘friend’. “No.”

Jaskier grinned, leaning closer to Geralt, “I think you will find, he is more your type.” He smiled proudly, “I’ve been talking you up.”

Geralt arched an eyebrow as he looked the stranger over. The man never seemed to take his eyes off of Jaskier. He scoffed and turned back to his ale, “It seems he’s more interested in you.”

“Oooh? Really?” Jaskier turned, leaning his elbows back against the bar. He smirked as he looked the man over. “I think you’re right.” He sighed and shook his head, turning back to Geralt, “I’m utterly failing as your wingman, aren’t I?”

“I don’t need a wingman,” he muttered into his mug.

Jaskier poked his arm, “I feel like we’ve had a similar argument before.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. They had. Right before ‘The Night to Remember’. He tried to ignore Jaskier as he chugged his ale.

“Come on~” Jaskier poked his cheek, “let me help you out.”

Geralt grabbed his finger, holding it tightly in his hand. He looked him straight in the eyes, “You really want to help me out?”

Jaskier’s blue eyes stared at him innocently, “I do.”

He clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to kiss him right then and there. He growled and pushed away his hand, “Leave me alone.”

Jaskier sighed, “Fine. One of these days Geralt. I’ll get you laid… Lain? A lay…” He waved his hand dismissively, “It doesn’t matter. You know what I mean.” He put on a smile before heading back to the waiting stranger. He grinned as he sat on the attractive man’s lap. The man seemed more than pleased with the behavior.

Geralt sighed as he pushed the empty tankard forward, “Keep them coming.”

[malfoyheartsgranger]

Comfort in Their Arms: Part 1

Summary: In the face of heartbreak, we run to those we believe can heal us. However, when confronted with pain we have never before experienced, we may be forced into the arms of the one person we never thought could provide us comfort.

Request: nope

A/N: This is part one of a quick little two-parter I wrote a while back. Part one is Hermione comforting Draco. It’s not fabulous, but here it is. Enjoy!

Warnings: death, crying, mentions of alcohol, swearing

Word Count: 2.5k

…

I am walking down the corridor when I hear the quiet sobs. I balk in my path but then take the few steps necessary to reach the end of the hall. I carefully peek around the corner. My curiosity reveals Draco Malfoy on the floor. His head is in between his knees which are curled into his stomach. His hair is falling in his face, and I can see him shaking with visible sobs. Interestingly, he is making very little noise. Only every once in a while can I hear him sniff.

I whip my head back around to where I am standing and prepare to dart across the open corridor. I need to get to the other side, but I can’t let him see me. He can’t know that I saw him. He can’t know I was here.

I take a deep breath and take one step. As casually as possible, I saunter across the open area, keeping my gaze from Malfoy. Halfway across, I hear a voice.

“Who’s there?” he calls. I freeze. My logical side knows I shouldn’t, but I do. I go to take another step. “I know someone’s there.”

I stop halfway through the movement and turn to face him, my face illuminated by the low light provided via the candles.

At the sight of me, Malfoy snarls, “Oh, joy, the mudblood. What are you doing –”

Realizing the stupidity of his question, he halts. Being Head Girl, I have to patrol nearly every night. He, on the other hand, being Head Boy, is also supposed to patrol, but tonight, he was nowhere to be found as I left our dormitory. I had searched for him, but when I came to the conclusion that, well, I didn’t really care, I let it go. Now I know where he is, at least.

“I’ll – uh – I’ll just be going now,” I stutter. We may have become a bit more civil with each other during these past couple months (after all, we have been stuck in the same dormitories this school year), but that does not mean I wish to stick around while he cries.

Oh Merlin, while he cries. Never before have I witnessed anything as shocking as this.

“Are you deaf?” His voice shocks me. I had been so enthralled with my own thoughts that I had missed what he said.

“No, Malfoy,” I reply, attempting to cover up my own hesitancy. “I just don’t care.”

I feel guilty even saying this.

What am I thinking? Feeling remorse at insulting Draco Malfoy. I have officially gone insane.

“Well then, Granger, you better get going. I can’t stand the sight of you any longer,” he snarls. His voice is acid, dripping from his mouth. It sounds so harsh, so malicious, but I know that he has to put more effort into it now than usual.

I go to finish my race to the other side of the hallway, but as I am leaving, I hear a small sob escape him. Going rigid again, I fight myself on turning around or not. Finally, I discern that to me, it doesn’t matter who it is in pain. All it matters is that they are in pain. After all, that was our philosophy through the Dark War. It’s the reason Harry, Ron, and I were able to save so many people: compassion.

I sigh and spin around on my feet. I approach him cautiously and sit down on the ground next to him. The cool wall presses against my back, and the cool scent of Malfoy pushes into my nose.

Malfoy raises his head and glares at me. “I thought I told you to get out of here, Granger. Actually, I’m 100% sure I said that.”

“You did. But I came back.” I shouldn’t have, but I did. Merlin, Hermione, you’re such an idiot.

“Well I’d rather you leave again,” Malfoy concludes. His voice is cold and rough, slicing through the cool air of the Hogwarts castle.

“And I’d rather not go until I know why you’re crying in the dark.”

“What the hell are you on about, Granger?” he asks. “I’m not bloody crying.”

“I’m not stupid, Malfoy,” I assure him, ignoring the way he raises his eyebrows at my statement. I recoil at the question of my intelligence. “I’m not.”

“Either way,” Malfoy scoffs, “it’s really none of your damn business, now is it, mudblood?”

“I suppose not,” I agree. I really want to leave. Sweet Merlin, what was I thinking? Nonetheless, I don’t move. Not one inch. He does, though. He shifts his body to lean away from me, openly disgusted with my presence.

“Then what the hell are you still doing here?”

“I may not like you, Malfoy, but I’m not leaving you alone right now.”

Malfoy peers at me like he is more interested in my being here now than he was before. He is probably just surprised I have stuck around and not shrunk away from his fierce glare. Is he forgetting the time in third year when I slapped him? It may have been about five years ago, but that doesn’t mean I’m afraid to do it again. He didn’t fight back the first time; he likely won’t now.

“You find me intolerable,” Malfoy says. “Remember?”

“You’re not mistaken,” I say, cocking my head to the side, showing my agreement, “but when someone is in a state such as this, I find it best to put hard feelings aside and help them.”

“Hard feelings?” Malfoy inquires, smirking. His speech suddenly becomes much more precise and proper. “Whatever do you mean?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t find this amusing,” I tell him. “I’ll stay longer.”

“Ha,” Malfoy barks. “Please don’t.”

“I wouldn’t like that either.”

“Bloody hell, I can’t believe I’m even sitting here having a civil conversation with you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go as far as to call this civil,” I tell him. “You’re insulting me with every sentence that comes out of your mouth. But are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

“Will it make you go away?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not I think it’ll make you do something stupid.”

“I’m not an idiot, Granger. I’m not going to hurt myself.”

“Possibly not, but you would have no problem with hurting someone else, now, would you?”

Malfoy glares at me and says, “I wouldn’t have a problem hurting you right now, Granger.”

I only stare at him, my features blank.

“Fine. I’ll tell you,” he concedes, “but you have to promise that, no matter what, you’ll leave.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I could just hex you.”

“Quite honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t already. I’m beginning to wonder why.”

Malfoy doesn’t answer.

“You don’t have your wand, do you?”

“Of course I do. I never leave without it.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Where is it?”

Malfoy groans. “Ok. But promise or I won’t tell you.”

“I hope you are aware that I don’t want to know just so that I know. I want to know so I can help you.”

“You? The mudblood? Help me, Draco Malfoy?” He puts a hand to his heart, feigning shock. “I’m absolutely flattered.”

“If you don’t want help, then …”

“Then what?”

“I’ll just go.”

“Please do.”

Damn. “No.”

“Merlin, I just can’t get rid of you.”

“Malfoy, I want to help.”

“Oh Merlin, alright, alright.”

“You see, I’ve already helped. You’re no longer crying.”

“Because I’m preoccupied yelling at you!”

“No matter. Now spill, Malfoy.”

Malfoy looks down. “It’s my mother.”

He stops. I nudge his arm and he shrinks away from my touch. He shuffles over some so he is farther from me.

“What about her?” I prompt him.

“She’s dead.”

My breath catches in my throat. Not what I was expecting. “When?”

“This morning. I got an owl about an hour ago telling me. I had no idea she was sick. They didn’t even send me home. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am, Malfoy. I may not be your biggest fan, but I know how it feels to lose someone.”

By now, Malfoy is crying again. I tell him, “You should get back to your room.”

“I’d rather sneak into the kitchen and find the whiskey. Then I’ll get drunk and make this go away.”

“Sleep is better.” I stand up, and when Malfoy doesn’t make a move to do the same, I offer him my hand. He looks up at me curiously and pushes himself off the ground, ignoring my outstretched limb. He brushes his robes off and swipes a hand across his face.

“Whatever,” he says. He begins to walk ahead of me, and I don’t make a move to catch up to him. He reaches the Head Boy and Girl room first, gives the password, and enters, letting the door slam shut on me.

“Prat,” I mutter, and then give the password also. I enter the room and Malfoy is nowhere to be found. However, I hear sniffling and the slam of a door. I walk up the stairs that lead to his room and knock on the door. Malfoy calls out to me, his voice muffled through the wood. “Go away, Granger.”

I try to open the door. It’s locked. Being the intellectual witch Malfoy doesn’t believe me to be, I use charms to open it. I walk in to find Malfoy face down on his bed. He is fully clothed yet, meaning flopping down onto the mattress must have been the first thing he did when he got into the room. His face is stuffed in his pillow, the casing on it scrunched around his face.

“For Merlin’s sake, Malfoy, you’re going to suffocate yourself.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

I walk over to the bed and shove him over.

“Don’t touch me,” he spits at me.

“Let it go, Malfoy, I’m not dirty I’ve just got normal parents.”

“The equivalent of dirty.”

“I’ll sit on your bed if you’re not careful.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I do.”

I plop down unceremoniously onto his bed. Malfoy gasps and moves as far over as he can.

“Oh, it’s actually quite comfy,” I say dramatically. “I think I’ll spread out some more.”

“Granger, stop. Stop right now or I’ll scream.”

“No you won’t. You wouldn’t want to be seen with me.” I smirk. “I told you I wasn’t unintelligent, Malfoy.”

He groans as I lie down and spread my arms and legs out. “Mmmmm,” I sigh contentedly. “Quite the comfortable bed, is it not?”

“Not anymore,” Malfoy mutters.

I laugh, sit up and scoot to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m only messing with you, Malfoy.”

“We’re not friends, Granger. It’s not funny.” Malfoy sniffs.

I peer at him. “Would it be so bad?”

“What?” He has tears in his eyes again.

“To be my friend? Would it really be so terrible? Am I that disgusting to you?” He doesn’t answer. “I mean, if you weren’t so stiff and concerned about blood status, I think it would work.”

“You’re hilarious, Granger,” Malfoy drawls.

“I am, aren’t I?”

Malfoy grunts, but then he is silent. I sigh and stand up. “Nonetheless, Malfoy, I really do hope you’re alright.”

“I’m not,” Malfoy says. “But I will be.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

As I walk by Malfoy to leave, I feel a hand on my arm. I look down, shocked, and when I look to Malfoy, he appears just as shocked as I am. “I - I don’t - We -” he stutters.

I peel his hand off my arm. “Goodnight, Malfoy.”

I turn the doorknob just as I hear Malfoy say, “Don’t go,” in a voice smaller than any I have ever heard.

I whirl around. I feel as though I am a rag doll, spinning and flipping to the command of whoever is holding me. Right now, Malfoy has full control.

“I don’t want to be alone right now.”

I reward him a small smile. He really is brave. “I have to go, Malfoy. I need sleep, too.”

He hesitates. “Sleep here.”

“There’s no place.”

“You’ve already contaminated my bed.”

I gasp. “You’re not joking.”

Malfoy shakes his head.

“I can’t even get changed?”

“You know what, this was a stupid idea. Forget it.” Malfoy sighs and lays back on the pillow he had earlier been trying to kill himself with.

I go and change into my pajamas. As I am getting into bed, I hear Malfoy’s quiet sobs reverberating through the common room. I try to ignore it. As I am lying there in bed, the blankets tucked around my chin, I think of Malfoy (against my own wishes) and of everyone he must have lost. He knew many of the Death Eaters killed in the war. He knew Voldemort himself. Many of the students in Slytherin had parents on Voldemort’s side. Many of the Slytherins were Death Eaters themselves. I realize for the first time just how many friends were killed and he will never get to see again. I remember how he lost Crabbe that day in the Room of Requirement and how it was the first time I had really seen Draco Malfoy show an emotion other than hate or disgust.

Then, definitely not for the first time, I think of everyone I lost. How when I believed Harry was dead for those few minutes, I could feel the ache in my soul, how, even though Ron was there beside me, I knew that no one could ever make the pain go away. Hagrid’s heartbroken face appears in my mind, the look of defeat he held in his posture when he carried Harry’s still body back for all to see. I imagine how he must have felt, holding the dead body of one of his best friends, not feeling breaths or heartbeats or any sign of life. The looks of terror on the faces of the Weasleys when Fred was hit pop into my mind. How George fell to his knees and cried out for his twin who would never hear him. His twin who had died smiling. His twin who had died protecting his family and forgiving his brother. His twin who was the best part of George’s life and the best part of a lot of peoples’ lives. I try not to remember the blank faces of my parents when I removed their memories. I try not to remember when Malfoy had stepped forward and grudgingly accepted Voldemort’s stance.

I try not to, but I do.

“Damn him,” I say.

I get out of bed and go to his room. I walk in without knocking and he whispers, “Granger?”

“It’s me,” I sigh. “I found I didn’t want to be alone tonight either.”

I hear the rustle of sheets and I walk to stand beside the bed. “This is insane,” I muse.

“Indeed.”

I slip into the bed and pull the blankets around myself. “No funny business.”

“With you? Not in one million years.”

I turn so my back is to Malfoy. As I drift off to sleep, I think about how Malfoy could have easily made another chair for me to sleep on. Then I think about how I’m glad he didn’t.

…

part 2

my stories

[thederailedtrain]

The Mark of Oblivion: City Hall Station [Four]

As Gus opened his mouth, Cedric jumped in. “Perhaps when we get back to the shop?” He suggested, raising his eyebrows at Gus. “Toni, if you would?”

While the former Harbinger rolled her eyes, Gus took hold of Sophie’s hand and led her over. “You’re gonna want to close your eyes and take a deep breath,” he warned. “And don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Without anything to go on, Sophie just nodded her head and followed along. Gus looked to Cedric, then Toni, as they each took hold of her outstretched arms. That same feeling from before and after the Central Park battle greeted him almost immediately - the one of losing form and slipping through the earth. The other times he’d traveled with magic, it was more of a spinning sensation. This was like one of those dreams where he did nothing but fall.

When they landed, it was with the same kind of jolt as waking up suddenly. Gus gasped, letting the air fill his lungs once more. Sophie, on the other hand, let out a yelp of surprise, covering it up with the back of her hand. “Where are we?” She whispered, looking around at the alley they’d suddenly found themselves in. “How...We were just in the subway-”

“That was a teleportation spell,” Gus explained. He could see the reality of the last hour settling over her. He recognized the mix of chemical signals she was giving off. They were the same emotions he’d experienced himself after his first brush with the Harbingers.

“Chaos-guided transference spell, but not bad for a non-caster,” Toni cut in. She turned to Cedric and added, “Speaking of, I think that’s my cue. Have a good night - oh, and you’re welcome.”

Her last words were still echoing about the alley as she disappeared in a mass of shadows. Yeah, that’s about what he expected. Gus shook his head, but he couldn’t help admiring her style. He’d have to remember to thank her properly next time he saw her.

“A spell?” Sophie asked. “Like magic?” Her voice cracked on the second syllable and Gus’s attention snapped back to her. Even after watching Toni dissolve into smoke, Sophie still seemed unsure. Looked like she was having a harder time reconciling the idea of magic with her scientific background than he had all those months ago.

Gus sighed, looking to Cedric for some kind of assistance. The Warden said nothing, but nodded for them to follow him into the shop. Of course Cedric wanted him to do this himself - Gus heard him say as much when they were on the platform. Really, though, he was probably the worst person out of everyone to explain the concept of magic. But this was Sophie. He’d be damned if he didn’t give it his best.

So he followed after Cedric, hand automatically moving to Sophie’s lower back. There was a split second where Sophie jumped away from the touch before allowing herself to settle back into it. It was like their first date and he was a stranger all over again.

Heart sinking lower and lower into his chest with each step, Gus struggled to find the words. “So, you, erm...during my fight with Bryce, you asked what I was,” Gus started, careful to keep his voice low. Sophie looked up at him in surprise. “Yeah, I caught that. I have really good hearing - well, superhuman hearing - because I’m…” He trailed off as they reached the shop entrance. Gus held the door open for Sophie, but the bells overhead didn’t jingle until he stepped over the threshold himself. “Because I’m a werewolf, Sophie.” There it was. Telling her so plainly didn’t make the words any easier to say. Three months in, and he was still getting used to the idea himself.

The look of shock that took over Sophie’s features didn’t make the gnawing in Gus’s stomach any better. She was simultaneously the first and last person he wanted to confess to. And it was all because of this right here. Seeing that expression firsthand was far worse than what he’d been picturing.

Rather respectfully, Cedric decided to give them the room. It was only after he’d left for his flat that Sophie spoke. “When you started disappearing all of the sudden...this definitely isn’t what I was expecting,” she admitted and Gus let out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t think it would make most people’s lists,” he agreed. Gus thought back to when Kira first started taking on Otherworld cases. How distant she was, and the mysterious bruises and cuts appearing on her skin. His worst fears ran the gamut of drugs and underground fight clubs. Magic was the farthest thing from his mind.

“Have you been a werewolf...the whole time we were dating?” Sophie asked. And before Gus could say anything, Sophie answered for him. “Or did it start that time you said you were visiting family?”

For a few seconds, Gus was silent. In all honesty, he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. That was probably when he did a complete one-eighty. “Yeah,” Gus sighed. It sounded pretty defeated. His girlfriend had been onto him since day one, she just didn’t know what she was onto. “As it turns out, not a total lie; my family is full of werewolves. Who knew?” Sophie offered him a dim smile. She was trying. “And then I, um, had to quit the cross country team because being a werewolf gives me a bit of an unfair advantage. So I started working here to make up the money I lost with the scholarship. That’s why I had to run out on so many dates. This shop is kind of a magical...hub for the Tristate area. We basically do municipal jobs here and there, but mostly all we’ve been doing recently is fighting the Harbingers - that’s guys like Bryce- Sorry, this is getting off track.”

Poor Sophie, he could see the confusion in her eyes. At least when the masquerade had lifted for him, it was easier to follow. “No, no, it’s fine,” Sophie assured him, though that was probably the farthest thing from her truth. “So are Kira and your boss and, um, Toni werewolves too?”

Now that actually made Gus laugh. “No, Kira’s a witch and Cedric is an incubus,” he explained. When Sophie’s brows narrowed at the last word, he went on, “An incubus is, I dunno, like a sex demon - No, wait, that’s a terrible description. He’s a really cool guy, I promise.”

“And what did you call Bryce? An arbiter?” Sophie’s face scrunched up as she struggled with the recollection.

“A Harbinger,” Gus corrected. “But he’s technically a witch, he just also happens to be a Harbinger. Toni was in the same boat- Well, she still kind of is. Think of it like switching fields of study. You’re not in ecology anymore, but you still have a couple months left in your subscription to The ISME Journal. I’m... I’m doing a terrible job of explaining this right now, aren’t I?”

Magic was a confusing mess; Gus knew that better than anyone. He had hoped to ease Sophie into this, not throw her to the wolves - metaphorically speaking. It was inevitable, Gus knew that much. For their relationship to progress, the truth would have to come out eventually. Some nights, he stayed up for hours imagining how the confession would go. He had the whole spiel memorized. But now that the opportunity was staring him in the face, it was wiped from his mind like an emergency cram session before a big test.

“I’m sorry,” Gus sighed. He just couldn’t erase the memories of Bryce’s smug face from his mind. “I’ve been wanting to tell you about this ever since it happened, but there’s all kinds of laws in the Otherworld - the magical world - about telling mortals. Plus, Kira and Cedric were involved and I didn’t want to out them without their knowledge. You deserve to know the truth about me, but I’m so sorry that it happened this way. Promise, I can do a much better job of explaining this if I start over-”

“No, it’s alright,” Sophie cut him off with a shake of her head. “You don’t have to explain anything more to me.”

For the first time that night, Gus saw something genuine in Sophie’s smile. She even reached out a hand to him; another first of the night. Gus accepted it gleefully. Here was the thing he’d been dreading telling his girlfriend for months and all that anxiety was for nothing. Really, he should’ve guessed she’d be able to take it all in stride. He knew his girlfriend better than-

“You don’t have to explain anything more because I don’t think I want to know,” Sophie told him. Her smile turned to an apologetic wince that made Gus’s nerves start pinging off each other. Wait, what was she saying? “Your boss mentioned he could help me forget? I think I’d like that.”

Gus tasted something acid on the back of his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but it refused to leave. “So you...don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I still want to be with you,” Sophie gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “But I just can’t know about...any of this, really. The magic, and the witches, and everything else. You said I wasn’t supposed to know, and I don’t know how else to explain it, but I can feel that. You understand, right?”

No, Gus really didn’t understand. But, then again, he’d been destined to become part of the Otherworld his whole life. He nodded anyway.

“I mean, I’m alright with you being a...a werewolf,” Sophie continued. God, she had an even harder time saying it than he did. “But I’m also alright going back to not knowing. You can just keep telling me whatever it was you told me before when you had to do, um, werewolf things. That way you can still keep it a secret. I’ll be fine with it, really.”

Except for the fact that she was lying. Months ago, Toni had called him a walking polygraph. Gus hadn’t fully grasped what that meant until that moment. And he didn’t like forging ahead in their relationship by building off that lie, whether her memories were changed or not. Gus wanted to say this, along with a hundred other things, but all that came out was;

“Alright.” He even smiled when he said it. Either he’d gotten better at covering his emotions or Sophie was just eager to buy the lie, because she brightened at his response. “Let me just get Cedric for you.”

While Sophie waited in the lobby, Gus ran to grab Cedric. To his utter lack of surprise, the incubus had been standing in his living room, waiting for him. He may have been leaning against the couch with Kira and Salazar, but the way he’d been watching for the door gave him away. Gus could see the resignation in Cedric’s eyes when he beaconed him over.

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” The werewolf asked, once they were alone in the hallway.

The sudden difficulty Cedric had meeting his eye was very telling. “I should’ve warned you,” was all he said.

“Yeah,” Gus agreed before Cedric could apologize. “Yeah, you should’ve.”

Across the room, Kira gave him a look. No doubt Cedric had briefed them on everything that just went down, but there was still a question on her face. “Later,” Gus mouthed, and left it at that.

Cedric and Gus made their way back to the lobby in silence. Sophie hadn’t moved an inch from when he’d last seen her. When she smiled up at Gus, his lips curled into a mirror of her own. It was only once he reached the bottom step that he realized the reaction was Pavlovian. An automatic physical response to visual stimuli. On his emotions did not warrant.

While Cedric approached Sophie, Gus hung back. The lights in the shop were all turned out, but the large bay window out front let in more than enough streetlight for him to see. Combined with his enhanced hearing, it was like he was standing right next to the two of them.

“Hey, there,” Cedric’s voice was soft. It reminded Gus of the way he spoke to Matilda during the séance. “I heard you were thinking of taking my earlier offer?” He paused, waiting for her nod of confirmation. “You won’t be able to forget entirely. The memories may return as dreams, but they won’t feel real. I can’t undo what you’ve seen. All I can do is make it a little easier for you.”

After a small breath, Sophie nodded. “I’m ready.”

“May I take your hand?” Cedric asked and Sophie held hers up. It was the same hand Gus had held just moments before. “Alright, now close your eyes and think back to everything that just happened.”

Just like before, Sophie did as Cedric instructed. From where Gus was standing, he could see Cedric tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, then place the fingers of his free hand to her temple.

But that was it. He wasn’t Kira - he couldn’t see magic or read the flow of energy. All Gus could do was watch and wait.

Thankfully, it didn't last long. Gus had only gotten to the foot shaking phase of his boredom fidgets when Sophie let out a sudden gasp and his attention was back on her. She blinked, looking around the room, before her eyes landed back on Cedric. The confusion cleared a moment later.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Miss Maxwell,” Cedric said, shaking the hand he was still holding. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things from Gus.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” Sophie replied. Strike what Gus said earlier; this was her first genuine smile of the night. “Sorry again about making you open up your store after closing.”

Cedric leaned back, laughing. “Oh, it’s alright.” He sounded like he was talking to a customer. Then he turned to flash Gus a meaningful look. “You find your keys alright?”

So that’s what they were going with? Yeah, Gus could play along. “They were right where I left them,” he replied, pulling his keychain from his pocket. “Sitting behind the register this whole time. You good to head on out?”

“Ready whenever you are,” Sophie was all smiles as she took Gus’s hand. “Have a good night, Cedric!” She added as they left, throwing Cedric a friendly wave.

“And to you as well. Come back any time!” Cedric called. He waited until Sophie was out the door before whispering, “I really am sorry.” All Gus could do was turn around in the doorway and give his boss a solemn nod.

Once they were out in the cold night air, Sophie wasted no time wrapping herself tighter in her jacket. “God, it’s freezing out here,” She muttered. “Isn’t it supposed to be spring next week? I’ll never understand how your hands are always so warm. But...that does make them pretty nice to hold.”

Right, they were still holding hands. Gus looked down at where their hands were joined before letting his fingers slowly untwine from hers. When he looked back up, Sophie was staring at him strangely. He could smell the confusion wafting off of her, but there wasn’t a trace of fear. Dammit, this was so much harder when she was looking at him like that.

“Sophie…” Gus trailed off. It took a moment to sum up the courage for what he needed to say next. “I think we need to talk.”

[kiriharaa]

Beautiful Disaster Chapter 16

It’s finally here! Here’s a big dedication to @hauntedpotatocollector who has been supporting me for so long and is nothing but kind and patient! I hope you enjoy this!

Wattpad | A03 Recap: After Natsu reads the short description of the demon known as Silver Fullbuster, Gray runs out of the house in distress. Natsu chases after him while Sting and Rogue are left behind in a worried, confused state.

Natsu Dragneel felt cold. That was the problem with the temperature during the winter time; it was decent and bearable during the day, but as soon as evening hit, it became far too cold to be comfortable. Of course Gray could handle these kinds of freezing winds due to his training, but even with his muffler wrapped tightly around his neck, Natsu felt the extreme chill spreading through his veins, making him shudder.

He could be using his fire, yes. But since it was so distinct, he was sure someone in the area would recognize it as Fire Dragon Slayer magic and have him reported, which would lead to him just ending up in a bad place and drastically decreasing his chance of finding Gray.  

“Jeez Gray, where’d you run off to?” he quietly mumbled to himself, rubbing his hands together in a futile attempt to warm them up. He should’ve at least grabbed a jacket, but he couldn’t waste even a second to think about anything else after seeing his boyfriend run off into the middle of the night with a such a dreadful look on his face.

That’s right, boyfriend. Another thing he had to hide due to it being forbidden. Romantic relationships in general were not allowed among students, let alone ones between those of the same gender. Natsu hated this unfair society he was born into. Not being able to show off certain aspects of himself, especially ones that he was so proud of, frustrated him to no end. If he had things his way, he’d beat the hell out of the person responsible for creating such absurd rules that strips people of their own self and forces them to pretend those aspects don’t exist or think they are unacceptable.

For the longest time, Natsu dreamt of leaving this wretched place once he graduated. He’d move to another city, or country even, if it meant he could show off his Dragon Slayer magic and be able to hug Gray or even hold his hand in public without fearing the trouble he’d get into. The worst part about all of this was that this issue wasn’t even something he could fight against. Natsu was strong and hopeful, but that wasn’t enough to avoid the punishment he’d get if he dared to break the rules. Unless Natsu could bring absolute change to this corrupt society of his, mindlessly rebelling was not the right answer, although it did cross his mind several times. Heck, if it weren’t for Gray, he’d probably have a Fire Dragon’s Iron Fist right in society’s stupid leaders’ faces.

Releasing a cold breath into the air, Natsu picked up his pace a little, using his nose to track down Gray’s scent. He couldn’t have gone too far; after all, there weren’t many places to go at this time of night without causing suspicion. Natsu tried hard to think of places Gray liked, believing he might’ve gone there if it helped to comfort him a little.

His eyes darted across the various storefronts spread out around the town. A lot of them weren’t even open at this hour, and those that were open were just bars that Natsu knew Gray wouldn’t go to even if he was feeling emotionally wrecked. There weren’t a lot of options, but even with the limited area to search, there was still no sign of Gray. Natsu’s heartbeat picked up subconsciously, a flash of stressed heat giving him a moment of warmth. His eyebrows scrunched together as he scanned the area one more time, but despite his efforts, his ice wizard was no where to be found.

_____________

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Rogue asked after a far too long moment of distressing silence. “Should we…go after them?”

The only response Sting gave him was a shake of his head as he firmly grasped one hand in the other, pressing it to his forehead. Rogue looked at him with eyes full of worry, wanting to go up to him and assure him everything would be okay, but he wasn’t the type to be able to do that comfortably or in a non-awkward manner. So, he stayed put, biting his bottom lip as he tried to think of how he could help. He felt useless sitting there doing nothing and was sure Sting felt the same way, but knew he was keeping himself from going because of what Natsu had said before he left.

“Rogue…I’m sorry for all this,” Sting said finally, his voice coming out in a shaky manner. “I…I don’t…”

“It’s okay,” Rogue told him, surprised that he didn’t stutter when he said that. “This isn’t anything you have to apologize for…”

“I guess…but I feel so bad, to get you mixed up into all this, and now the project will be delayed…! You seem like, and probably are, the diligent type who always gets their work done early and, well, I just feel awful for putting you through this and—“

“Sting, please don’t say things like that,” Rogue interrupted, surprising himself yet again. “You don’t have to worry about me. Let’s just pray for their safe return…okay?”

Sting looked up at him in that moment, and Rogue felt himself panic. He shouldn’t have interrupted him like that; that was very rude and Sting probably thought he was being insensitive. He prepared a string of apologies when suddenly, his own eyes locked with Sting’s. Rogue felt trapped in his gaze, unable to formulate any words as all thoughts slipped away from his mind. His heart rate picked up for what Rogue thought was due to some weird anxious feeling, but before he could think too much into it, he felt his body move on its own and found himself standing right in front of Sting a few seconds later. Their bodies were only a few centimeters apart, and Rogue struggled to find an explanation for why he suddenly got up and got this close to Sting. His ears burned and he felt like acid had filled throat, but all of those feelings disappeared as quickly as they had come when Sting gave him the most gentle look he’d ever seen.

“Rogue…” he said softly, his eyes almost pleading for something.

“S-sting…I—“ Rogue’s thoughts were all jumbled together and his heart was still beating like crazy, so forming any sort of coherent sentences was far from likely at this point.

Rogue squeezed his eyes shut and felt his body falling forward, and before his mind could process what he’d been doing, a pair of warm arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, embracing him in a tight hug.

“I’m really glad you’re here with me,” Sting whispered. Rogue could feel his warm breath tickle his ears, and his stomach flipped like an acrobat at a circus. A flush of an inexplicable feeling coursed throughout his entire body as he shakily held onto Sting, trying hard not to get too emotional. He felt tears burn in his eyes at the reality of the situation he was in: getting hugged by someone was a dream of his, and he couldn’t believe that he had the guts to make the first move, even if it was by a subconscious impulse.

When Rogue didn’t say anything, Sting slowly let go of him, and Rogue’s body already missed the warmth.

“I think I would’ve lost my mind if I was here alone,” Sting told him, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “I probably would’ve gone after Natsu but I don’t want him to be mad or more stressed out.”

“How about this? If they don’t come back in the next half hour, we’ll go look for them,” Rogue offered. Even though he’d only started talking to Natsu and Gray less than five days ago, he was already very attached to them and cared for them like they were his family. Perhaps it wasn’t the best habit to get attached to people too quickly, but with the lack of interaction Rogue had with others, he was bound to fall into that practice.

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Sting, his nerves easing up a little. “What do you want to do in the meantime?”

Rogue didn’t have a clue, if he was being honest. He didn’t even think about that, but he couldn’t leave Sting hanging. He rummaged through his thoughts for an idea, and after realizing he was taking a little too long, he blurt out, “L-let’s make chocolate-covered pretzels!”

Rogue’s face reddened, and he snuck a glance at Sting, hoping what he suggested wasn’t too crazy to the point where it weirded him out. However, the sparkle in Sting’s eyes convinced him otherwise, and he looked almost as excited as Rogue to make them, much to Rogue’s content.

“Alright then, Rogue! Let’s grab the chocolate and pretzels and get crackin’!”

_________

It was getting colder, darker, scarier. The only thing keeping Natsu going was his strong inclination to find Gray. He swore he wouldn’t give up until he found him, and he intended to keep his word. He had already gone way past the normal boundaries of the town and ended up in another section of it that not many people visited. He couldn’t find a reason why Gray would be here, in this creepy, desolate place, but he figured he’d check it out just in case since he wasn’t anywhere in the main part of town.

“Gray!” he called out, cupping his chilled fingers around his mouth. “Gray, where are y—”

Before he could finish his sentence, his nose picked up a familiar scent, and he felt relief wash over him. It was Gray’s! Although very faint, he was able to pick it up regardless and lock onto it. With a fluttering hope in his heart he followed his senses and plunged into the darkness of the night, eager to finally be able to see Gray and bring him home.

He took countless turns in the labyrinth-like streets, and the coldness he felt didn’t seem to bother him any more. Gray’s scent was getting stronger, and that enough was to warm Natsu up a little. He continued to push through the alleyways, nearly tripping on a cobblestone gone loose, when finally, he found what he’d been looking for. His treasure at the end of the rainbow.

“Gray…!” Natsu huffed out, wrapping his muffler over his chapped lips to retain the little warmth he had left. “Th-there you are!”

Gray spun around at the sound of his name being called, his eyes wide and filled with…tears? It was hard to tell in the darkness, plus it was so cold that any water that did come out of his eyes was likely to freeze.

“Jeez, what are you doing all the way out here?” Natsu asked casually, deciding to not question the crying. He figured Gray wouldn’t want to talk about it anyway, and it wasn’t the right environment for them to have an in-depth conversation about those matters. He stepped closer, being careful not to get his feet caught in the thick vines that covered the ground. “What is this place?”

“N-Natsu? I—how the hell did you find me?” Gray wondered out loud, still stunned.

“Dragon Slayer senses, baby,” Natsu said with a grin, or at least he tried to grin, but given the temperature it came out looking more like a wobbly half-smile.

Gray ignored his playfulness and shook his head. “Aren’t you cold? Why did you follow me?” He took a couple steps forward, wiping at his eyes. Once he reached Natsu he pulled him into a hug, trying to supply some warmth.

“I was worried about you, you idiot,” Natsu muttered into Gray’s chest, snuggling up to him.

“You’re the one who’s an idiot for coming all the way out here without even wearing a jacket,” Gray chastised him. He felt a warmth envelop his cheeks as he squeezed Natsu, burying his face into his pink hair.

“Says you,” Natsu shot back with a soft chuckle, noting Gray’s bare upper body. “You perverted stripper.”

“Hey, at least I can handle these temperatures.”

“Whatever! You shouldn’t have run off if you didn’t want me to chase you!”

“I didn’t ask or want you to chase me, dumbass.”

“I would’ve done it regardless, ‘cuz I love you.”

It was then that a silence fell upon them, and Gray slowly pushed Natsu away so he could look into his eyes. “Man, I’ve missed hearing that.”

Natsu managed a smile, his body still shivering. “I’d kiss you, but I think my lips froze.”

Gray laughed at that, cupping Natsu’s face with his hand. “You’re really something, Natsu.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Natsu asked, offended.

“Figure it out yourself, Flame Brain,” Gray said before turning away.

Natsu blinked and watched as Gray laid his eyes on a marked stone. It didn’t take him long to realize it was a gravestone. He moved to stand next to Gray and took his hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “Gray…is this…”

“It’s my father’s. He was buried here,” Gray said softly. A puff of cold air escaped his lips as tears threatened to spill from his eyes again.

“Oh…” Natsu now understood why Gray chose this strange location to wander off to. With a determined look in his eyes, he let go of Gray’s hand and grabbed him by the shoulders, looking directly at him. “We’re gonna ace this project and find out things that will help you feel better and let you ease up a bit. We’ll find the truth, no matter what!”

At that, Gray smiled. He leaned down and softly pressed his lips against Natsu’s for a quick second before backing away. “Hah, wow, you weren’t kidding when you said your lips were frozen. It felt like I was kissing a block of ice.”

“Shut it!” Natsu screeched, embarrassed. His face was flushed to a color that rivaled his hair. “You didn’t have to kiss me!”

“Oh, but I wanted to,” Gray said with a laugh, and then added, “‘Cuz I love you.”

Natsu felt his stomach do flips as he gripped Gray’s neck and pulled him close for another kiss, only to be stopped by Gray.

“Gah, Gray, what gives?” he huffed out, eyes swirling with a lustful-like hunger.

“As much as I’d love to kiss you, we have to get back inside and get you warmed up before you freeze.”

“But Graaaaaaaaaaay!” Natsu whined, pouting.

“Wait ‘till we get home! Come on, it’s not that far and Sting and Rogue must be worried.”

“Holy crap, I nearly forgot about them!” Natsu exclaimed.

Gray simply shook his head and grabbed Natsu’s hand, leading him along the rest of the path before they got to the main part of town. He couldn’t hold Natsu’s hand when they reached that part, so he made these few moments he had last.

The two made their way back home, awaiting warmth and the relieved faces of their friends.

_______________

“They have five minutes. Five,” Sting said, popping a chocolate pretzel into his mouth.

“I’m sure they’ll be back any second,” Rogue assured him, taking one of the treats for himself. He was practically drooling over the chocolate pretzels he and Sting had made. He was so focused on them that he nearly forgot about Gray and Natsu being gone until Sting reminded him and instantly felt guilt overtake him.

“I hope you’re right.” Sting sighed as he slid off the counter he was sitting on, stray pretzel crumbs falling off his pants once he landed on the floor. “Let’s go get them some blankets, I’m sure they’ll be cold once they turn up.”

Rogue nodded, lifting the spoon out of the last of the four hot chocolate mugs he and Sting had prepared in addition to the pretzels. Rogue really was in a chocolate paradise and he couldn’t wait to take a sip of the steamy chocolate goodness once the others had returned.

Once the spoon was properly washed and placed in the drying rack, Rogue followed Sting to a closet that had spare sheets and helped him carry out two big comforters and four small blankets. They walked over to the living room and placed them on the couch, with one blanket on each cushion. Sting went to go set up the fireplace while Rogue made his way back into the kitchen and took another chocolate pretzel, savoring the taste.

“You’re such a chocoholic, it’s adorable,” Sting said from behind Rogue, startling him. He nearly choked on the pretzel he was chewing but quickly washed it down with a glass of water.

“I-I’m sorry! I should probably save some for Gray and Natsu…!”

“You eat as many as you want. There are another snacks for them if they’re hungry,” Sting told him as he bit into another pretzel himself. “This was such a great idea, these things taste heavenly!”

Rogue smiled, and he touched his face, noticing that it was burning up. Unknowingly he had streaked some chocolate across his cheeks in his little flurry of embarrassment, so when he turned to face Sting, he was confused when Sting started laughing at him.

“Rogue, wait there, I need to take a picture!” Sting said suddenly, causing Rogue to panic.

“Wh-what? Why? Did I do something?” he yelped, watching as Sting ran across the room to grab his cellphone.

Before answering, Sting snapped a few shots of Rogue with a huge smile on his face while Rogue just stood there, eyes darting everywhere in mild panic and confusion.

“It’s nothing bad, I swear!” Sting managed to say through his wide smile. “It’s just… you’ve got chocolate all over your face and you look so cute!”

“C-cute?” Rogue spluttered, his face burning more than before.

“Hah, yeah! Here, let me get that for you,” he said, stepping closer to Rogue. Rogue didn’t process what he was talking about until Sting reached up and touched Rogue’s face with his hand, wiping off the chocolate stains ever so gently.

Rogue felt his heart stop, and all he could do was stand still as Sting wiped the rest of the marks off his face with care and precision. Only in that moment did Rogue pause and take in the person in front of him, admiring all his features, from his fluffy, pale blond hair to his bright, blue eyes. His skin looked super soft, and his smile lit up the rest of his face, and Rogue had to fight down a smile of his own.

“I’m sure that chocolate loves you as much as you love it.”

Rogue released a nervous yet genuine laugh before he squeaked out a small “Thank you.”

Sting nodded, and the two of them brought the mugs of hot chocolate over to the coffee table. As if on cue, the door burst open as soon as they set the mugs down, revealing Natsu and Gray accompanied by a cool burst of wind.

“We’re home!” Natsu announced with pride, pumping a fist into the air. “Ooh, the house smells like chocolate!”

“Sorry we took so long…” Gray apologized, hanging his head in shame.

“Natsu! Gray!” Sting cried out, happy tears spilling from his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re both okay!” He leapt forward and hugged them both, but then immediately receded when he felt how cold they were. “Gosh, you’re both freezing! Feels like I’m hugging a freakin’ refrigerator or something!”

Rogue watched from the corner, feeling as if he was intruding on a sentimental family moment or something. Although Natsu, Gray, and Sting had made him feel more than welcome, he felt that during some moments he couldn’t outmatch the long-lasting family bond the three of them shared.

“Check it out Sting, I got icicles in my hair!” Natsu pointed out. He shook his hair like a wet dog after a bath, and shards of ice fell onto the floor beneath him.

“I’m surprised you haven’t turned blue. Seriously, you both should go get changed. Rogue and I prepared blankets and hot chocolate for you guys,” Sting told them, pulling the two inside and shutting the door. “Oh and Natsu, can you light the fireplace?”

“Sure thing!” Natsu sucked in a breath of air, and with one swift exhale, the fireplace was lit with his fire magic. “There! Now excuse us, we’ll be right back!”

With that said, Natsu grabbed Gray’s hand and pulled him into their room, locking the door behind them.

“Energetic as always, even while nearly frozen,” Sting said with a shake of his head. “You were right, Rogue, they really did turn up and I’m so relieved.” He turned to face Rogue, who was surprised that he wasn’t forgotten.

All Rogue did in response was nod. He continued to stand where he was in an awkward manner until Sting grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the couch.

“Sorry if I’m…in the way,” Rogue said once he and Sting had sat down next to each other. “I should probably go home soon, I didn’t mean to intrude for so long.”

“Rogue. You aren’t intruding, and you are more than welcome to stay the night if you’re comfortable enough. You’re one of us now, okay? Don’t feel like an outcast!” Sting told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “If you do go home, just know that I’m walking you back.”

Rogue was at a loss of words for a full minute, and all he could do was blink at Sting’s words, as if believing them was something that wasn’t even possible. What snapped him out of his daze was Sting’s last sentence, and he shook his head, reeling back to reality. “Wait, no, it’s super cold! You don’t have to do that!”

“Well I’m not letting you leave in the middle of the night alone!” Sting argued, a small pout forming on his face. Rogue found this to be undeniably adorable. “So that means there’s only one solution.”

“And…wh-what would that be?” Rogue asked, almost timidly.

“You have to stay the night!” Sting stated, throwing a blanket over Rogue’s head.

“Um! Are you sure you’d be okay with that? I mean, there’s only—“

“If you’re talking about the bed, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“What? No! I can’t make you sleep on the floor in your own room…!” “Relax! You’re not making me do anything, I love sleeping on the floor, actually. It’s fine, really.”

“I could never do that to you!”

“I’m serious, Rogue! Please stay, okay?”

Before the two of them could discuss the matter further, Natsu and Gray came out of their room dressed in new sweatpants and giant, plush sweaters.

“Wow. You two look like fashion disasters,” Sting mentioned, looking at their odd combo of clothes.

“Whatever, we’re warm and that’s all that matters!” Natsu retorted, sticking his tongue out. He plopped onto the couch and pulled Gray down with him, who sat close to him with a splash of red coloring his cheeks.

“So…hot chocolate?” Sting offered, handing each of them a mug. Gray and Natsu eagerly took one and started sipping, relishing in the warmth. Rogue took his carefully, sniffing it before taking the first sip.

“Rogue, you’ve been really quiet since we got back, is everything okay?” Gray asked after finishing half of his mug’s contents.

“Oh!” Rogue replied, nearly burning his tongue. “Yes… I’m okay, sorry. I’m not the best at having conversations…”

Gray smiled at him with a sympathetic nod. “Wanna stay the night?”

“I already asked him and he said yes!” Sting answered for him with a grin.

“Wait! I didn’t agree just yet, and I was going to ask Natsu and Gray if they’d be okay with it first!”

“Hell yeah it’s okay! I’d rather have you stay here than go out there in the cold at this hour,” Natsu said, dripping the last of the hot chocolate into his mouth. “You’re good company to have, especially for Sting.”

“This all means a lot to me, really…thank you all,” Rogue said with a smile, setting his mug down.

“Of course,” Sting said, leaning back on the couch and snuggling up into a blanket. “Also, is it just me, or is anyone else not tired at all?”

“I feel the same!” Natsu commented.

“You’re never tired, so that doesn’t count,” Gray said with a roll of his eyes. “But I agree. I have no motivation to go sleep, even if it is this late.”

“I think I could stay up for a while,” Rogue added in, looking at the others.

“Let’s work on the project, then,” Gray stated, much to everyone’s surprise.

“What? Are you sure? After what just—“ Sting started, but was cut off by Gray.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. We were supposed to work on it anyway and didn’t really make much progress. Let’s not mess up our schedule so early, we only have three days left to work on this thing.”

“I say we pull an all-nighter and finish the whole thing today!” Natsu suggested, standing up. He walked over to the kitchen table and grabbed the book before placing it in the middle of all of them, and then turned to grab his laptop.

“Um…that’s a bit…” Sting couldn’t find the words he wanted to say.

“I’m down for that idea. Come on Sting, let’s finish this, here and now.”

Sting shot a worried glance towards Rogue, who looked equally concerned. The two decided to not question them further and agreed to their terms, grabbing their backpacks.

“Should we work separately or all work together and help each other?” Rogue asked, nervously fiddling with the zipper on his backpack once he’d pulled his laptop out. “It seems that both the subjects we chose will be interesting…”

“Working together is a good idea. I think we’ll get done faster too. The teachers won’t even know or care as long as we did the work and didn’t make our papers sound too similar,” Natsu added in agreement.

“Then is it okay if we start with this one?” Gray questioned, opening the book to the section about Silver Fullbuster.

“Sure…” Sting said, almost as if he was in a daze.

“Sting, start taking notes. I’m going to read this out loud.”

“Woah, Gray, lighten up a little,” Natsu said, poking his cheek. “You’re scary when you’re serious.”

A flash of irritation shone in Gray’s eyes, but only Rogue seemed to notice. His eyes softened when Natsu held onto his shoulder, and he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry. Um, Sting, can you take notes while I read this?”

“Yeah, of course man,” Sting said, opening the document on his laptop.

Rogue sat there quietly, intrigued of what they’d learn. He hoped Gray could handle it. The moment from a few hours ago flashed in his mind; the expression on Gray’s face, how the color practically drained from his face, the way he ran out with so much distress just at the mention of the demon’s name. He truly was worried, but trusted Gray and knew that he was strong enough to withstand whatever they were about to discover.

And so, with the fireplace being the only source of light aside from the dimly lit shine coming from their laptops, Gray began reading about one of the Nine Demons known as Silver Fullbuster.

___________________

“Silver Fullbuster was resurrected by Keyes, and served as a test subject for his experiments,” Gray read, his eyes straining. He’d gone through a not-so-helpful introduction to Silver, but only now did things start peaking his interest.

Natsu, Sting, and Rogue all were crowded around Gray, unable to stop listening. The book and its information had their full attention, so much to the point where even Sting had to remind himself that Gray put him in charge of taking notes and he couldn’t just slack off.

“Not much is known about Silver’s past. The only thing we have on record is that he was supposedly killed when a demon known as Deliora attacked his village.” Gray stopped for a moment, pushing his lips together as unwanted memories filled his head.

“Gray, we can stop anytime, you don’t have to push yourself,” Sting said, clutching the top of his laptop with shaky fingers. “Please, you don’t have to do this for us, think about yourself.”

“I’m okay, Sting,” Gray assured, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. “This is just stuff I have to face. The more I know, the closer I can get to the truth.” He turned towards Natsu, remembering the promise he’d made.

“I’m proud of you, Gray…but I agree with Sting. You can stop anytime.”

Gray shook his head. “How much do we have, Sting?”

“Huh?” Sting blinked, his thoughts all jumbled.

“The notes. How many pages?”

“Oh! Uh, with the basic intro, personality and appearance, we have about two full pages of bullet points.”

“Perfect. That should be enough.”

“Wait, you don’t want to research this further?” Natsu asked him, his eyes wide.

“I do. But that’s enough for the paper. I don’t want to turn in any more than I need to, and this book isn’t much of a help. I think I have to find this information on my own.”

Nobody said anything after that, so Gray decided to read one last part of the book before closing it. “For seventeen years, after the successful experimentation, Silver ‘lived’ a normal life. However, he decided to get revenge on the Demons that stole his family from him. He learned Devil Slayer magic and killed any Demons he came across.”

Gray inhaled a long breath, setting the book down. “That’s enough for me. Let’s do Rogue and Natsu’s next.”

Rogue sat still, watching Gray carefully as he exhaled. He was shocked at how calmly Gray handled reading all of that, given his reaction from before. His strength really was something admirable, something Rogue wished he possessed. Rogue could tell Gray was holding back some of his emotions, but he didn’t want to press on about it. He’d already been through a lot for one night.

Rogue stared at the time on his screen. 4:46 a.m., it read. They’d have to leave for school in about three hours without even a wink of sleep. He looked up and saw everyone’s expressions, which contained a mix of strain and exhaustion. They didn’t look tired enough to sleep, but clearly they had overestimated their ability to do work for such a long period of time. Doing research papers of all things at such a late hour was bound to drain their energy eventually.

“Are you sure you want to do all of this tonight?” asked Rogue, noticing that nobody else provided a response to Gray’s earlier statement. “We can take a break or something…”

“Nah, let’s finish… we already made the commitment and we can’t go back on it,” Natsu said in response, stretching his arms above his head.

Gray let out a yawn and leaned against Natsu’s shoulder, handing him the book. “All you, Flame Brain.”

Natsu took the book and turned it to the back, revealing the hidden flap. “E.N.D.,” he said excitedly, the exhaustion from earlier almost completely disappearing from him. “The coolest demon ever!”

“You don’t even know anything yet, moron,” Gray said tiredly, reaching up to ruffle Natsu’s hair.

“Well we’re about to find out, and I can already tell it’ll be good!”

“I’ll take notes,” Rogue offered, already having his page set up.

“Great! Okay everyone, listen up, cuz this is probably the best and coolest story you’ll hear!” Natsu said with too much energy for someone who was awake at 5 a.m. without any sleep.

“Just get on with it,” Sting said as he blinked away the sleep from his eyes. He had a hard time keeping his composure, and he wobbled a bit before landing on something soft.

“Sting…?” Rogue calmly said, blinking. His cheeks felt warmer as he felt Sting’s head fall on his shoulder.

“Ah…sorry Rogue…’m tired…” He yawned, snuggling up to Rogue more as if he’d done it a thousand times.

“Pay attention!” Natsu shouted, distracting Rogue from his thoughts. “I’m about to start.”

“Go ahead…” Rogue said softly, placing his fingers on the keyboard. He had to admit that the feeling of Sting leaning on him gave him a vast amount of comfort, and he had to try to not smile like an idiot at the gesture.

“E.N.D. is known as Zeref’s most powerful demon. Nobody knows what the letters stand for, but what we do know is that E.N.D. used to be human. Four hundred years ago, the child had died but Zeref couldn’t handle the grief so he resurrected him in hopes that E.N.D. would be the one to finally kill him. Why would Zeref care, you ask? It’s because the child was his younger brother.”

“Zeref has a younger brother?” Gray said, his ears perking up. “Damn…I had no idea.”

“Keep going,” Sting said, sounding less tired than before. “This really is interesting.”

Natsu nodded, flipping the page. “E.N.D. is very ruthless and cunning to the point of having a deadly bloodlust. He was so scary that even Acnologia was frightened by him. There are links to his past but th ha n be d v e re y.”

“What the hell was that at the end? Too tired to speak properly or something?” said Gray, lifting his head off Natsu’s shoulder.

“The words!” Natsu shrieked. “The rest is faded!”

“Seriously?” Sting also got up, reaching for the book. He turned through the pages, and sure enough, the rest of the text was too faded to be legible.

“How many notes do we have, Rogue?”

“About…a page and a half…” he answered, scrolling through what he’d typed.

“Well…there’s still the section on his appearance that you haven’t got to. Maybe use that to fill in the extra half page?” Gray suggested.

“But I wanna know more! The appearance doesn’t really interest me that much, I just wanted to know his story! This is so unfair!” Natsu complained, threading his fingers through his hair.

“We can’t help what we don’t know,” Gray told him with a sigh. “Maybe after finishing the paper we can each go out and learn more about these demons we’re researching, since we clearly want to know more than the book has to offer.”

“Where would you even get such information?” Sting asked, scratching his head. “As far as I know, this is the only book that contains information about those demons.”

“Easy. We go directly to the source,” said Gray, talking about it as if it was like picking up groceries.

“You mean…Zeref?” Rogue was almost scared to say it, but curiosity got the better of him.

When Gray nodded, Rogue felt an uneasy dread fill the pit of his stomach. Find Zeref? Talk to him? Was that even possible? Nobody knew his whereabouts for the longest time. For all they knew, he probably wasn’t even in this country.

“Nothing about that is easy. Don’t let your tiredness speak for you,” Sting said then, being the voice of reason. “As if Zeref would give out information like that to us of all people.”

“Well, it couldn’t hurt to try!” Natsu said, determined.

“I get that you’re both passionate about these demons, but let’s at least put together these papers, alright? Then after school tomorrow we can talk about this crazy plan and come to some sort of agreement.”

“Deal,” agreed Gray. “But we should probably try to get some sleep once the paper is done. I don’t wanna talk about such an important thing without any rest.”

“I hate to break it to you, but we literally have to leave for school in about an hour,” Sting noted after looking at the time.

“What?!” Gray exclaimed, grabbing his cellphone. Sure enough, they had about an hour before they had to “wake up” and start getting ready. “Holy shit…this is not good.”

“What did you think I meant when I said all-nighter?” Natsu said, sorting through the notes Rogue had taken.

“I didn’t think we’d actually be up all night. How the hell are we gonna manage to stay awake for a full day of school tomorrow?”

“Coffee, my friend,” Sting said with a yawn. “Works like a charm. Who’s up for a 7 a.m. Starbucks trip once these papers are done?”

“That sounds good,” Rogue said as Natsu and Gray nodded.

“Great! Now get your butt over here Gray, let’s finish this up.”

Gray practically rolled over to Sting, being too tired to actually stand up and walk over to where he was sitting.

Natsu crawled over towards Rogue, perching next to him as the two talked about how to properly write the final version of their paper. Natsu did all the planning while Rogue did all the typing in addition to making sure the grammar and syntax was correct.

After the two groups had exchanged papers, made comments and edits, and were proud of the outcome, they all drifted off into an unplanned slumber, laptops still on as the alarm on their phones signaling them to get ready faded away into nothing.

[haikyuu-imagines-and-others]

HANAHAKI ASASHI FEEEEEEEEELS~ I would like to request more as i hop onto this destructive train; kyoutani x fem!reader hanahaki disease - ummmmm, where Kyoutani is the one affected by it annnnnd reader is someone who helps the club out from time to time - reader talks to him on the daily but its not enough to stop the flowers from coming up ??? and then i leave the rest to you love (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

I need more angst in my life and my ask box lol Also! I haven’t really written for Mad Dog in a while so I hope this is good!! Thanks for the request! - Admin Satori

Asahi Hanahaki

Kyoutani Kentarou:

This shouldn’t be happening to him. Of all people, him. The feelings of love and affection had never bothered him before, since they were never spilling out from his part… And yet, now… Here he was - staring down at a toilet bowl full of that very same love and affection in the form of his infection.

Petals and vomit. Toilet water and disintegrating flowers - petals, buds, stems, and pollen all mixing together with his breakfast. Horrible. Horrendous. He quickly flushed it away - wanting to forget everything he knew it meant.

He was dying.

Not of a stab or gunshot wound, which Kyoutani had always fancied himself going out - the thug life was definitely something that interested him. But no. He was being taken out… by flowers. Growing in his chest. In his lungs, slowing his blood flow as it constricted around his veins like a snake around its prey.

He was dying.

Kyoutani slammed the bathroom door open, after washing his hands of course, before making his way back into the gym. He’d rushed out just as you’d walked in. You’d have questions he didn’t want to give the answers to. Did he really have to answer you? He wasn’t a talkative person, you knew that… So maybe you’d let him be.

Wishful thinking. You saw him entering the gym from his escape, and a curiosity bloomed in your chest at his whereabouts. “Yes, I finished washing your water bottles and even cleaned the practice jerseys. We can’t have our best boys stinking up at practice matches.” You smiled, making Oikawa whine that he did not ever stink - not ever. “I’m sure, Tooru. I’m very sure.”

You were good friends with the team. You’d grown up with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamaki. You were their friend… and thereafter you were like a mother, or older sister to those who followed the terrible four. Including the ‘fresh off house arrest’ Kyoutani.

He was a troubled case. In and out of juvie, always picking fights. Making his appearance as threatening as possible so he’d be left alone.

Yet you couldn’t stay away. You sought him out. Even as Matsukawa called for your attention, or Oikawa hung on your hip - or Iwaizumi showing off his arms or Hanamaki making the best pranks come to life… You focused on Kyoutani.

Why? It irritated him more than anything that you’d focus on him. “How are you today, Kentarou?” Formalities were thrown out the window - you remember how flustered he’d gotten when you’d first called his name on his first day back on the team. An expression you were sure you’d never be able to see again.

He didn’t answer. He rarely did. His dark gold eyes glanced at you, feeling a constricting vine slowly wrapping around his heart - the thorns of which were gently teasing the very soft fleshy membrane of his lungs, of his heart - just looking at you was painful to his health.

But you didn’t feel the rejection of his silence. You persisted with a small smile, “You’re going to outshine them all today, huh?” More silence, he looked away from you this time, but you only continued to smile, “I cleaned your water bottle, your jersey, and even made sure to sweep any dust off the court so you aren’t tripped up by anything.”

His nose scrunched - finding it really annoying that you’d go through all that just for him. Why? He wasn’t special. He was just an asshole who was good at volleyball. And yet you were getting down on hands and knees to properly clean the floors for him? Why? What did you get out of that?

“Usually in these situations, Mad-Dog-chan… You say thank you to the nice pretty lady who did that for you…. Also…” Oikawa pouted as he swayed to the side to lightly bump into you, “________-chan~ Why don’t you do that for me~?”

You scoffed and pushed your friend away, “Because you’re nothing special - we’ve seen all your moves, Tooru.” You smiled, laughing when Oikawa only pouted further and whined about how mean you were to him. “Kentarou, though, is just getting started!”

Kyoutani didn’t look at either of you, looking down at his lain out practice jersey and knee pads. His water bottle having a nice condensation rolling down the sides - a sign that the water within was beautifully chilled just for him. Had you done that? The vine around his heart constricted further, and he cleared his throat to get rid of the feeling at something on the back of his tongue; Though it would remain there the rest of the day.

“Thank you.”

It was curt. It was short. It was borderline insincere…. And yet you blushed with a fond smile.

Because he’d meant it.

Another clearing of this throat, trying to alleviate the feeling of flowers bubbling up. Filling his mouth. He took his towel, something he’d need during practice, and instead stuffed his face into it, opening his mouth and letting the soiled petals and buds slip down his tongue. Covered in saliva, some curdling with his stomach acid, he quickly balled up the towel before turning and making his way to the locker room to discard the evidence.

He was dying.

And you could see it.

Kyoutani was slower to biting remarks. He was more introspective than he’d been in months… Instead of responding, he’d leave the scene, or he’d plainly ignore what was being said. Instead of getting into fights over a sneer thrown his way, he’d simply flip them off - or in the oddest cases, actually ignore the expressions of others. Kyoutani was slower, physically as well. You could see it in his volleyball practice - when he’d rush to the restroom to hide his evidence.

So why weren’t you afflicted? Why couldn’t you just tell him straight out… that you enjoyed his presence?

Why couldn’t you love him like he seemed to love you?

Because you’d felt this way before he had. You’d suffered over him for the longest time. During high school. During the beginning of college. When he’d eventually found his way back into your life… You’d been dying. You’d been coughing up an average of 12 bouquets a day….

Until you’d gone through with the procedure.

You’d been vomiting, passing out, losing yourself and your time so often during your years of suffering - the roots had wound themselves so tightly around your very important organs… You’d have to either confess, die, or remove those feelings altogether.

And the thought of never seeing him again had you getting the procedure done.

Because you were a coward. You couldn’t confess. You’d rather he never know about your feelings than he hate you for the rest of his life…. The rest of your life, however long it would have been if you’d told him…

You didn’t want to die - so you got the procedure…. It hadn’t hurt. They’d given you enough pain killers, gone inside your chest and uprooted the flower that had caused you so much pain… In doing so, though…

Feelings of love, affection, adoration… anything romantic…. Escaped you. Forever. For the rest of your life, you’d never know the feeling of romantic pleasure, be it in an intimate way or in the most innocent acts… You’d never know what it felt like for your heart to race around Kyoutani.

Why hadn’t you waited?

Knocking on the door, you could hear him coughing deeper in the room.

He was dying.

You walked further in, following his gasps for air, following the fallen soaked petals that led the way to him. Romantic in the most morbid of ways, you thought - would you have been nervous if you could still feel? Would you have been scared to go anywhere near him when he’s like a caged animal in this moment?

Would you have confessed then and there?

“Kentarou?” You slowly pushed open the door of the bathrooms, seeing him leaning over the sink, his shoulder blades at sharp angles as he stared down at the mess of vomit and flower petals that gathered in the sink.

He was dying.

You could see his reflection in the mirror. He’d lost a lot of weight. You knew the flower inside would not let him eat - would not let him sleep, the bags under his eyes looked darker with the fluorescent lights beating down from above. He looked like a ghost - a mere whisper of the young man he used to be. But the panic in his eyes seemed.. subdued. As if he were expecting this to happen, as if he’d known all along he would succumb to this infection of affection.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this….” His voice was rough, scratchy from the constant coughing, probably damaged from the constant washing of his stomach acid. Slowly, you walked forward until you stood beside his leaning form, your hand hesitantly resting on his shoulder and rubbing it soothingly. “If I confess…. Will it stop?” You didn’t know. There weren’t any cases you’d heard of of someone who’s afflicted confessing to someone who’s without feeling and surviving.

But could you so easily- “I got the procedure done…. A month ago…”

An empty chuckle escaped from him, interrupted by his coughing, spitting out flower petals covered in blood into the sink. Blood. It was getting worse. “So.. I’m a dead man, either way….”

You gathered your courage and pulled him to stand up straight, tugging on his shoulders so he’d face you completely, “No… No, Kentarou.. You can live. It doesn’t hurt at all… They put you under, and then they remove it completely-“

“So I’ll be a damn robot?” He sneered, shaking off your hold of him, clearing his throat as his stomach flipped at the idea. Internally, you flinched. That hurt. Is that what he thought of you now? A robot? Unfeeling, uncaring… But you did care….

You just couldn’t love him like he wanted you to.

“You don’t have to die, Kentarou.”

He knew that. He knew he didn’t have to die. But what was the point of living if he’d been robbed his chance of real love? His entire life had been rough and his tough exterior wore down with every passing year… The moment he’d coughed up a single petal after talking with you nonstop for weeks… He’d been….

Hopeful.

That maybe he wasn’t alone. Maybe he wasn’t cursed to be sour and rough his entire life. Maybe he could grow and learn to love someone, learn to love himself…

But you’d robbed him of that.

So what was the point?

Kyoutani slowly took a deep breath, feeling petals flutter inside his lungs, feeling his heart being scratched and slowly ripped by the thorns that litter the vine inside him. Soon, he knew he wouldn’t be able to breathe properly. Or at all. “I’d rather die… than not feel anything at all…”

“No…” You felt breathless at his conviction, and you knew you’d be on the brink of tears if you hadn’t… if you had just waited. “Kentarou, no, you don’t-“ You reached forward and grabbed his shirt in both fists, using all your strength to shake him. Turns out, he was much weaker than you’d realized since he was actually shaken with your movement. “Don’t be a stubborn bastard, Kentarou! It’s just a procedure… Please.”

His hands took yours, and for a split second you wondered how warm they would have felt… If you’d waited, but he simply pulled your hands off of him, “You made your choice.” He growled, glaring down at you, “You were a coward! You ran away! You robbed me of a choice!”

You wanted to be angry, you wanted to shake him again, to bring him to reason… But you only stared up at him with wide eyes. You were seeing his final moments as someone able. Soon enough he’d be nothing more than flowers and vomit. You knew. You’d seen it happen before.

“Please…” You whispered, but the desperation of wanting him alive escaped you. You did want him alive, you knew that, but the feeling of needing him alive…. Had been removed.

Kyoutani’s expression scrunched, “I’m going to die. And it’ll be your fault.” His dark golden eyes seemed dimmer than before, it wouldn’t be long now. Perhaps a couple of days. The knowledge of no way out would tip over his chances in favor of his demise. Would you see him before it really happened… Or was this the last time?

[whisker-biscuit]

If You Can’t Beat ‘Em...

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Rating: T for language and innuendo

Summary:  In a place that’s literal Hell, it’s gonna be hot, and there’s bound to be heatwaves. It kind of comes with the territory. But some days are a lot worse than others and for a rundown hotel barely managing its electric bill, much less air conditioning, the residents are forced to rely on some rather…unorthodox methods (yes, even for them) to beat the heat.

“If one more fucker makes a flaming phoenix joke in the next hour, I swear to everything that’s holy they’re gonna be reincarnated just so I can kill them again.”

It was far too hot in Hell today for most souls, and in a run down joint like the Happy Hotel, the occupants were just trying to keep from melting.

Husk laid flat on his stomach on top of the bar counter, arms stretched out in front of him. His long red wings drooped down on both sides and wisped lightly against the carpeted floor. Sweat was pooling steadily from beneath the feather tips. Not far away, Angel Dust chuckled from where he sat propped on the ground against a chair leg, two pairs of arms limp while the remaining ones worked slowly at untying his corset.

“C’mon Husk baby, it’s hard not to say somethin’ with those bee-autiful feather peckers,” he said with lazy eyes. “You gotta take it as it is.”

“A compliment?”

“A come on.”

Husk grabbed at the nearest bottle and took a long swig.

“Anyway,” Angel tactfully ignored such rudeness by dropping his gaze to the uncooperative bodice around his waist. “You’d think Miss Mime Face would be rich enough to get AC out here, her being a princess or whatever the shit. Not very accommodating for us working poor.”

“Miss Mime…? You talkin’ about Charlie?”

“Shhh, don’t say her name, Husk! Might summon her.” The spider demon made a show of looking around the room in mock nervousness.

“Don’t be a dumbass. That’s not even possible out there; definitely not here.”

Of course it was this moment that the bar doors slammed open with the force of Charlie’s outstretched arms, startling Husk so much he rolled sideways and fell off the counter with a loud thunk and a groan. Angel smirked.

“Speaking of the devil lady. Aha!” He succeeded in pulling off his corset, breathing a deep sigh as he dropped the piece of clothing in his lap.

Charlie came strolling in with her hands clasped behind her back. She looked at Angel, half naked on the floor, to Husk, who was currently picking himself up off the floor. There was a brief pause.

“Did I – interrupt something?” The girl asked politely.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Ah, okay then.” She took another moment to flick her ponytail behind her shoulder. “Sooo, what are we doing in here? Some kind of meeting?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I see. Well, since you can’t seem to make up your minds, how about we spend some quality time with the rest of the staff? It won’t do to hole yourselves up like this!” Her statement was accompanied by a well-meaning hand clap.

Husk collapsed onto a stool and sagged against the countertop. He squinted at the Princess of Hell like she had grown a halo.

“How the hell are you even moving in that outfit?”

Charlie’s smile faltered in bemusement. “What do you mean?”

“Uh, look around Char-Char! We ain’t exactly freezin’ over today, if you get my drift.” Angel laid forward on his stomach and reached out one hand towards the woman. It made contact with her right shoe and he tapped a claw against the leather. She squeaked and hopped away.

“Oh come one you guys, we can’t let one measly heatwave stop us on such a wonderful day! I doubt it’s even that bad, you just wanna find something to complain about.”

“Charlie, if you can find one other person in this hotel who isn’t dying again right now, I will give you half of the register money.” Husk said completely deadpan.

“But…you already do that anyway?”

“That means fuck off, doll-face.” Angel murmured, stretched across the carpet as the heat started overcoming him. His hair-fluff drooped and dripped with sweat.

“Fine,” the princess’ chin lifted in stubbornness. “I’ll go find someone else who’s not a spoilsport. And then I’ll be back to show you both how childish you’re being.”

With a flip of her ponytail, Charlie turned and walked calmly out of the bar with fisted hands at her sides. Husk and Angel exchanged one feverish glance and then simultaneously closed their eyes and let nothingness overtake them.

Ten minutes later, the doors swung open again and Charlie crept in looking considerably more weary and sheepish. Husk opened one eye to watch her lazily. Angel didn’t even bother to be that courteous.

“Okay, so. It seems I was maybe a little hasty to brush off your concerns.” She fidgeted, tapping her fingertips against each other. “Everyone else is sorta…out of sorts too.”

“Ya don’t say,” Angel growled without moving. His face was buried into the carpet.

“Yes, well, I do say. So in order to bring everyone’s spirits up, I’ve decided to make an executive decision.” Charlie paused, for dramatic effect and the chance for questions. Neither guy took the bait so she plowed on. “My decision is to beat the heat…through a bonding exercise! Yay! How’s that sound?”

“Terrible.”

“Like a fucking nightmare.”

“Great! Mandatory attendance in the main lobby, be there in two minutes or there’ll be consequences!” The last word was sung at a higher pitch as the princess skipped out of the room, considerably more chipper than during her entrance.

Husk sighed and got off the stool, swiping the whiskey he’d drank from earlier. He padded across the room and nudged Angel’s body with his paw.

“C’mon.”

“I don’ wanna.”

“Get your sorry ass up, if I have to do this then so do you.”

“Ugh,” the spider lifted himself off the floor with shaking arms. “Fine. But I’m going bare-chested. And you owe me a French 75 on the house afterwards.”

“I don’t owe you shit, let’s go.”

When they arrived at their destination, it was to find Vaggie slumped in a lounge chair, who gave a halfhearted wave, and Niffty humming some wayward tune as she sat at a table with her head propped up by her hands and elbows. Her face scrunched up at Angel’s topless upper half.

“That’s not very proper, deary.” Niffty tittered with a head tilt.

Angel gave her the finger listlessly as he dropped to the floor again. Husk rolled his eyes and joined Niffty at the table. The four of them stayed that way, listening to the obnoxious ticking of a wall clock nearby, until Charlie came down from upstairs. She was armed with several objects shaped like cartoonish, oversized guns. The spider demon perked up immediately.

“Are those weapons I spy?” He sat up and looked them over. “They look kinda flimsy.”

“That’s because they’re not the kind of weapons you’re thinking of, silly!” Charlie dropped the guns on the table with a clatter. She hefted a larger one up against her shoulder. “These are water guns! This is how we’re gonna cool down.”

Vaggie frowned from her seat. “Uh, Charlie, I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Sure it is, don’t worry!”

Niffty oohed and aahed over the neon colors while Husk stared at the pile, disinterested. He took a drink of whiskey, stared again, and managed to look even more disinterested. Angel, meanwhile, crawled over to peer at the toys from the table ledge.

“What’re water guns? What kinda bullets they use?”

“They don’t use bullets you moron, they’re kids toys.” Husk downed another gulp. “She’s treating us like kids is what she’s doing.”

“Pff, no I’m not. These things are fun for all ages! And all immortals!” The princess held out the one she was holding for the rest of them to see. “Look, you fill this cap with water, right here, and then you press this trigger to squirt it. I already filled them all so don’t worry about that, but I was hoping we could each pick one and head into the backyard to have a water gun fight. Sounds fun, right?”

Husk shook his head and curled into the chair with his whiskey. Niffty seemed not to have heard Charlie; she had picked up the most colorful gun and was cooing over it. Angel stayed where he was, two pairs of hands clutched around the table’s edge while he peeked just over it at the plastic weapons. Vaggie stood up and moved to Charlie’s side, placing one hand on her shoulder.

“Listen, I know you’re trying to help us with the heat problem,” she spoke quietly to her partner, “and we really appreciate it, but I really, really don’t think this is the best idea.”

“Come on Vaggie, the backyard is totally safe from malicious demons, I’ve been putting charms around the perimeter so we don’t get any unwanted guests.” Unwanted guests mostly meant Sir Pentious but nobody was going to say that out loud.

The girl still looked skeptic, so Charlie smiled sincerely at her.

“And it’s not like I filled the guns with acid, so what’s the worst that could happen?”

“ACK!”

Angel flinched back violently as Niffty sprayed water in his face at close range. She giggled delightedly and sprayed him again, forcing the cursing spider to duck under the table.

“Hey, not inside! Outside!” Charlie scolded as Vaggie facepalmed.

But it was too late. One spidery hand whipped up over the table and groped blindly for all of two seconds before landing on a hefty-sized water gun, which was quickly pulled under the makeshift wooden hiding spot. Then the furniture was knocked sideways, sending Husk and Niffty sprawling as Angel popped up and held the trigger down, spraying indiscriminately.

Husk made a yelped curse and his wings drew up to block the sudden barrage of water. Niffty gave a cry of both glee and astonishment, responding by trying to shoot her own weapon. Her aim went wide and sailed past a cackling Angel right onto Vaggie’s chest.

She squawked and fell on her butt, to which Charlie mirrored. Vaggie flicked water off her breasts and growled.

“Charlie, give me your gun right now.”

“But, but outside –”

“Now!”

Angel was having the time of his life, right up until Vaggie came up behind him and smacked him with the gun itself. He stumbled forward and nearly tripped on the upended table.

“What the hell?!”

“This is your fault, Angel!” The girl demon yelled and sprayed him in the back. He tensed up at the feel of cold water against his uncovered body, whipping around with a deranged snarl.

“Eat acqua bitch!” He pulled the trigger like it was a machine gun. Water hit Vaggie right in the face and she started spraying back.

While those two remained locked for dominance, Niffty turned her sights to Husk, who was trying desperately to get out of the line of fire. She twittered maniacally as she pounced on him with her weapon, and with no proper way to defend himself the poor winged demon did the next best thing – he dumped his whiskey on her. She screamed, in disgust or delight it was hard to tell, and he took the chance to jump up and hightail it out of there.

So stood Charlie, standing helplessly as Angel and Vaggie threw obscenities and H2O at each other, Husk fled the scene, and Niffty brushed at her alcohol-covered outfit and licked her fingers. She made eye contact with the princess and gave a toothy, dangerous grin, lifting her weapon up slowly like a bringer of doom. Charlie’s gaze hovered down to the remaining water guns left on the floor.

“Well,” she decided, “if you can’t stop them, join them!”

 .

 .

.

A half hour later and huddled in the safety of his locked bar, Husk rolled his eyes as a third loud crash sounded through the hotel. Someone screamed and demonic laughter echoed with a suspiciously Charlie-like voice.

“Idiots,” Husk declared to himself, still drying his fur off. “Idiots and children, every single one of them.”

I'm so excited for this show, and I can't wait to get to know each of these wonderfully zany people. Just so everyone’s aware, this is my personal take on the characters based on what little we already know along with some educated guesswork. I might come back to this after the show airs and we get a better feel for the characters, or I might leave it as-is as a kind of...AU? I guess? I just like patchwork family dynamic haha. Hope you enjoy!

[chuckling-chemist]

A Request To Ask

((I swear I have like 3 other half-finished pieces but I became obsessed with Thomas Dolby and couldn’t stop))

“Okay, according to our recordings from the NMR spectra here, we’re likely looking at...hey Dontoc can you hand me the molecular weights chart?”

She heard a chuckle from the body next to her. “You do not have these memorized by now?”

Pallia snorted. “Do you?”

“Of course not. I am not the one who does this regularly. Rather, I have been merely helping you with your ah...my apologies but what did you say we were doing?” He let out another laugh, more sheepish than before. “I understand we are identifying proteins and bashing together electrons, however it has been so long since we started, it is slipping from my memory.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before turning up to face him. Since he still didn’t quite have a lab coat of his own, he instead swam in Glacin’s spare one. The sleeves were folded up several times over, and even then it was hard to see where his hands actually began. At least the goggles fit, even if she had to help finangle them around his fins so nothing pinched. “I’ve been trying to identify various genomic properties in those of the tyrian pink caste so I can compare them to other castes known for violent tendencies and see if I can find some sort of biological component to their competition towards each other. But so far all I’ve gotten is...nothing.”

Dontoc craned his neck to get a better look at the papers laid out. “That does not look like nothing.”

She shook her head, pencil tapping against the table sharply. “Well this much wouldn’t indicate anything. I still need to do all the math to determine which amino acids are in this specific protein and all the other ones we did tonight still sitting there.”

“And what about those we already ran?”

“Well…” she inhaled sharply, “we’ve done wonderfully making long, complex amino acid chains. But as far as any possible chains that I know function to inspire higher competition responses than cooperation in comparison to other trolls?” She groaned. “Nothing. And I’m easily halfway through at this point with the math alone.”

Dontoc hummed in understanding. He shifted closer to her with the chart, not enough so they were touching, but nevertheless still  enough she could feel the colder seadweller body temperature chill her own skin. “I hardly think there is any harm in dropping a false lead, so to speak,” he said.

“I’ve gotten so far though!” She groaned. “And who knows, I could still use this information. Do you realize how little information we have have on fuschias? Really seadwellers in general, but it’s especially hard to get information on an exclusive caste with all of maybe five trolls at a time in it.”

“Fair, fair. Perhaps another night then? Place a raincheck on this endeavor.” Dontoc raised an eyebrow, glancing at her curiously. “We can parse this out in the future after a well-deserved break.”

“We?” Pallia met his gaze, a sly smile on her face. “You are aware all I’ll be doing for who knows how long is math right?”

“You are the one who has called me pleasant company, dear.” He tapped the image of the spectra. “Also, if you could perhaps show me during our next set of NMR experimentation how to calculate this, I could always assist. Mathematics is a strong suit of mine.”

“You’re pleasant, distracting company,” she retorted. At the sight of his fins shrinking, she hurriedly added, “That’sss not a problem! Just a statement. And a distraction might be good, anyway.”

“No-no...you’re ah...you are fine.” He head and fins shook, almost as if to erase the surprise from his face. He didn’t speak until his composure had mostly returned. “I have never been called a distraction before.”

“And now you have. You’ve moved on up in Alternia.” She grinned and slid the printouts closer to him so he could look at them if he wanted.. “Who knows, maybe we’ll actually get something done. Figure something out about fuchsias that might contradict what we think we know. If we’re really lucky, it’ll explain something and it’ll make dealing with them all the easier.”

 “‘Dealing?” he asked in amusement. “Seems like a harsh term.”

“You aren’t the one stitching up Mayola’s FLARP members. And now that I think about it, you are never here for when Mayola and Aisral start to go at it like hopbeasts. You always seem to manage to escape over to Careen’s for the worst of it. Speaking of, honestly…oh.” She dug her fangs into her lip, using it to ignore the heat rushing to her face. A laugh eventually escaped out of her throat in a pitiful attempt to ease the growing awkwardness in her mind. “Wait. Right. You guys are matesprits. Very different dynamic than what we have. Ignore me.”

Dontoc shrugged, giving her a half-hearted wave. “Pallia, please do not worry about it. With how little you see of the two of us together, and how little I talk about it, I would say it is an honest mistake.”

“I still feel bad because like...you have talked about her and I have seen you two together. Especially since every time I see you both together, it’s uh...a lot to take in. No offense.” She scrunched up her face. “Actually I might have forgotten because I try to erase those scenes from memory.” Truthfully, Pallia constantly forgot the two were matesprits because they were such an odd couple. Sure, they weren’t an odd couple in the traditional Alternian sense - the type you could see on in romantic comedies and sitcoms where a dopey, shabby lowblood ends up with a pristine, hyper-intelligent landdwelling highblood - but once you knew even an inkling of their personalities it started to show. Careen was, in every sense of the word, condescending, arrogant and stuck-up. And Dontoc...wasn’t. Or if he was, he at least had the good sense to not act that way around Pallia. 

Then again, maybe it didn’t. Pallia had a massively negative experience with Careen, and certainly Aisral couldn’t stand her, but who knows. She might be nicer to true blues and purples. Plenty of trolls behaved like that, and with Careen at the top, it’s not like such was an impossibility. And that’s ignoring how Alternia certainly held extra a unique disdain when midbloods acted out, where highbloods could do whatever they wanted without repercussions and the right troll might find the lowblood feisty if they were lucky.

Yeah, that was probably it.

“I assure you, that is more her than myself. It really was quite the adjustment when we entered a matespritship,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair. “I still am not sure I am used to it myself, to be honest.”

“It’s been a solid sweep at this point.” She pursed her lips in thought, grabbing the NMR printouts and the molecular weight chart to shove into a folder. Lab work seemed to wrap up for the day. Considering she couldn’t remember fully when they started, it was probably for the best. “I think.”

“It is going to be a sweep, yes. She will holding a whole party about it.” He took a slow, long breath. His fins shook, not violently, just seemed to vibrate for some reason.  “Which I suppose brings me to a question I have wished to ask for a while.”

“Whaddya need?” A weight managed to settle somewhere in her stomach, but she tried to ignore it. Dontoc asking her something he meant to ask for “a while” could be literally anything. That’s partly how he ended up knocking on Pallia’s door in the middle of the day asking about where he could get more clothes.

“I was ah...well...hoping you could possibly go?” She stopped putting papers away to look up at him with a wide, puzzled expression. He swallowed thickly. “Not-not with me, of course, we cannot exactly go as a duo, but truthfully she has held a few parties since we have began our relationship and for much of it I just feel uncomfortable. Careen’s off having to be a hostess, which I understand completely, however I would greatly appreciate some familiar company that aren’t her friends for once.” The words tumbled out of his mouth in a complete mess, so much so that Pallia was surprised he didn’t trip on them the way it completely tripped up her thoughts.

She blinked owlishly, throat dry despite everything. Of all the questions she expected, a request to meet him at a glorified highblooded gala was not it. 

“I...um...well…” She felt her breath catch in her throat. Such a simple question should not make her feel this unsure. By all logic, the answer should be a hard no. She didn’t want to see Careen, didn’t want to think about her if she didn’t want to and moreover, if she had to, didn’t want to possibly experience another blow-up like the last one she had when the two were together. She had no drive to interact with her more than necessary unless it somehow involved shoving an acid gun into her face and pulling the trigger.

But it wouldn’t be to see Careen or to try and upset her. It was to give Dontoc a face he recognized and could talk to consistently. She’d have to check with Aisral, but she wouldn’t be surprised if Aisral wouldn’t mind making her a cute dress for it. And if Careen stole him away, she could just retreat into those ridiculous gardens. Back when the two were in contact with each other, she never got the chance to investigate the suspiciously waxy coating on the red roses, and a part of Pallia still wanted to confirm that Careen was, in fact, using her servants to paint her roses.

She didn’t realize just how long she stood there in silence, until Dontoc cleared his throat. She looked up to him, his own gaze averted in a poor attempt to hide the growing violet that overtook his face. “If you don’t wish to I understand completely. You two have a history and I’m not trying to repair that. I just thought perhaps some company would be beneficial? I realize how selfish that sounds.”

“No, you uh...caught me off guard. Funny how that one happenssss.” She took a slow, steadying breath calm herself and pushed her glasses up. “I’m hardly upset or anything you asked. Just really surprised.”

“True as that may be, I should not have put you off guard.” He looked over at her. Most of the blush had faded, but the slight tint alongside the fin twitch was still unmistakable.

Pallia shrugged. It was hard to get mad at him for something she accidentally did herself not long ago. “Weren’t you the one telling me not to worry earlier?”

“I suppose I might have, or well, I did said something to that effect, yes, however…such was...” he said slowly, voice trailing off the longer he went. Eventually he stopped, shaking his head. “No, no, the more I think about it, it is not that different.”

She slid closer to him, just close enough they could be touching if either one moved even a little bit closer. “Anyway, it’s not the first time you’ve invited me out somewhere.” She nudged his arm with her elbow. “If I remember correctly, it was you who dragged me to dinner last week?”

“We had not eaten for hours and I swear, you never keep food in this whole hive unless someone is ill,” he pointed out.

“Okay, fair. Fair.” She turned around and crossed her arms, using the table to lean comfortably. Dontoc followed suit, though his arms merely fell at his sides. “But weren’t you also the one who set up the next date where we work? Together? Not even thirty minutes ago?”

Silence. “So I did.” His fins twitched, betraying his increasingly calm composure. “As such, I concede you might have a point.”

She chuckled.  “Only might? I think that was a pretty excellent point.”

His lips curled up into a playful smirk. “Well, yes. Generally one would say requesting we get food together for the purposes of survival, or finishing research two started together, is different than the request of meeting up at what boils down to an over extravagant anniversary party.”

“They’re both satisfying a need, aren’t they?” she asked nonchalantly. “Socialization’s kind of important, you know.”

“Well, I would imagine if it is only of slight importance, you would not bring it up,” he said cheekily.

Well someone’s certainly not nervous anymore. She put a hand over her mouth, attempting to hide her snickers, but it only succeeded in making it harder to hold back. “You assssss.”

“An ass who you are apparently actually considering assisting,” he said. “I believe that says more about you this time than myself.”

She shrugged. “I’d say I owe you one for all the times you’ve helped out with the experiments. Volcor missing a frond isn’t exactly the most effective at helping out sometimes. Just, you know, lemme talk to Aisral first. Get something set up. Or see if I should just go buy a new outfit.”

His cheerful expression dropped. “Pallia, you do not owe me anything for willingly --”

“Dontoc, if I tell myself it’s because I owe you, I’ll be more to actually go and not try to flake out last minute,” she said.

His face brightened right back up, fins perking and everything. “Of course, of course. Thank you, truly.”

“No need to thank me. We do stuff together. We’re friends. Speaking of…” She pulled her phone out of her coat pocket, glancing up at him slyly. “Dinner?”

“I was starting to think you would never ask.”

[kitanoko]

Todomomo/Kamijirou Double Date??

Note: This is a ~8000 word one-shot for Kamijirou and Todomomo, has a tiny mention of Izuocha (because my friend @c-jay321 loves them) as well. I hope you enjoy! The formatting also prob looks way better on comp.

This is entirely comedic and lots of fluff; Also a crap load of Kaminari and Todoroki bonding LOL 

In which Todoroki gets help from Kaminari

   “Thanksagain, Todoroki,” Kaminari rubbed his eyes with the heel of his right palmbefore collapsing onto the textbook in front of him. Marvelling at the summersky, layers of coral pink and delicious lemony yellow covering the horizon,Kaminari heaved a sigh.

What a great day to go out and enjoy apopsicle or two. Well, at least if he wasn’t stuck indoors, begrudginglymemorizing chemistry formulas.

Because of that dreaded unittest, which apparently was “as easy as punching Deku in the face” as quoted fromBakugou, Kaminari had to listen to Aizawa lecture him about his currentstanding in Class A. The electric hero would have also been out and about withhis girlfriend by now.

Not in the deserted UA library having aprivate lesson with Mr.Expressionless over here.

Todoroki pulled the book fromunder his friend’s sleepy form to the latter’s chagrin.

“We aren’t done with SN1 and SN2substitutions yet. I think we still have pages 53 and 54,” Todoroki thumbed theedge of the worn-out textbook, voice monotonous.

Kaminari made another obviousexhale, clearly expressing his boredom and hesitation, fingers making soft butincessant taps on the wooden desk.

“Hey, I don’t like this more thanyou do,” the fire and ice hero side-eyed the boy beside him, “I only volunteeredto help you because Yaoyorozu said she was busy. And also because you’reactually failing.” He nudged Kaminari who did a stretch and leaned away fromthe cursed text before Todoroki slammed it down.  Teaching was definitely not one of Todoroki’smany talents.

“K, start reading from the secondparagraph.”

Kaminari made a ‘tsk’ with thetip of his tongue. Ugh. More atomic structures. Skimming the passages and the practicequestions on the bottom of the second page made him feel worse than drinking 12shots of vodka before going on a merry-go-around. Why must he suffer throughthis? Not like he needed to know how to make a monounsaturated fatty acid orwhatever while shooting lightning bolts at his enemy anyway.

“So, number 1,” The blondstarted, desperately trying to ignore the diagrams on his left, “is asking forwhat? I don’t get it.”

Expecting an answer, Kaminariwaited, resting his chin on the edge of the table, eyes appearing like smallgaps by now. He rustled his over-gelled hair.

Silence.

“Todoroki, yo, so number 1,what’s it talking about.”

Cue the crickets.

The boy pulled his shoulders backand turned to his tutor, who looked as though he was caught in a trance. Dartinghis golden eyes at the doorway in the direction that Todoroki was facing,Kaminari noticed their Vice President laughing and smiling with some boy fromClass B.

The taller boy standing next toYaoyorozu had a red hairband on and appeared to have just ran a marathon, skinglinting from the sweat. He had a gentle smile beaming across his face, eyesgiving the girl the ‘up-down’ every once in a while. Obviously trying to look‘cool’ by leaving his elbow on the windowsill, he let his back leg cross behindthe other, hand clutching onto a water bottle. Kaminari dug deep into the cavernsof his memory.

Oh yes, now he recalled, it’sAwase. The boy who saved Yaoyorozu from certain death.

Todoroki’s hawking gaze stayedsteady on the two, eyelashes unbatting as Yaoyorozu shifted weight from leg toleg.

Kaminari had an ‘oh shit’ momentfor a second, practically hearing his own gears turning in his head and smirkedslyly. So his tutor was attracted to her, eh?

“Todoroki I swear, if you don’thelp me, Imma have to call Yaoyorozu.”

The mention of her name baitedhim to respond. The fire and ice hero quickly tried to act as if he was neverdistracted in the first place, fingers pointing at random on the page.

Well, that got his attention.

              Kaminarihad the urge to text Jirou right away. His girlfriend told him several timesabout her suspicions. Sometimes, she would see Todoroki staring at her bestfriend for no apparent reason and whenever Yaoyorozu helped Aizawa with smalltasks like cleaning the desks, Todoroki would always volunteer along. Who knewhe was falling for their resident Yaomomo this hard?

               “Todoroki,”The blond crossed his arms, his gaze emitting all sorts of mischief, “I shouldrepay you for all your hard work, teaching me, you know?”

               Histutor didn’t look interested but gave a response, albeit half-assed, “To behonest, it’d be a gift already if you could stop posting weird crap on myFacebook wall. And that goes for snapchat too. Stop sending me snaps of you andJirou kissing ‘cause it seriously annoys me to no end.”

               “What,you’re just jealous! And, dude, I thought you said it was fine!”

               “No, Ididn’t actually. In fact, I’ve never said anything about it. Until now.”

               Kaminaricrossed his arms looking peeved, “Fine. Anyway, back on topic. So how about Iset you up with your crush.”

               Todoroki’sbrows scrunched together almost forming a unibrow, the muscles on the rest ofhis face unmoved. All his life, thiswas probably the second time anyone asked him about the topic of romance (otherthan being confessed to), which, to Ashido’s skeptism, was definitelyimpossible because of his ‘pretty boy’ face. Whatever that meant.

               “Idon’t have a crush on anyone,” the boy finally spoke, eyes fixed on the book.

Is this a replay of Midoriya before he started dating Uraraka?

Kaminari wanted to laugh.

               “Don’tlie, Todoroki! I know you like Yaomomo!” The blond boasted as if he solved theworld’s biggest puzzle and the latter shot him a chilly glare that failed toshut Kaminari’s pride down. Good thing the tables within 15 metres of theirradius were empty. “I might not remember how many bonds carbon can make but I’mnot that clueless!”

               “Well,great,” Todoroki was having none of this, “Let’s get back to the importantstuff. Like getting you back on track with your damn grades.”

               Itreally isn’t that Todoroki didn’t like her. In fact, he questioned his opinionon her many times, most of the time during class. One of the prettiest girls inthe whole school, at least according to 90% of the people he had met, sat rightnext to him. Every day when he looked out the window, she’s in his view. When ateacher asks a question, she’s the first, if not the second to answer. Not abad answer too, it’s always one verbalized with thorough analysis. How cansomeone be so capable, intelligent, and utterly impressive? That was beyondTodoroki’s breadth of understanding.

               So heguessed one could say that he was falling for her. Hard.

               “If youdon’t hurry, Yaomomo’s gonna be snatched away, my dude! Do you know how manyguys want her? Maybe that guy over there too,” Kaminari flicked his indexfinger over at the two who were still chatting. Todoroki seriously wanted tothrow a pen at them.

Well, not Yaoyorozu. He’d neverthrow anything at Yaoyorozu.

The blond draped his arm over hisfriend’s shoulder. Carefully, of course, arm hovering in midair before making alanding. Todoroki was still somewhat of an unfamiliar, stoic creature to him.

               Thefire and ice hero looked up again at the scene playing horrifyingly outside thedoor.

I can’t play into Kaminari’s trap, Todoroki thought, handsclenched, but watching his seatmate cheerfully hanging around Awase boiled hisinnards and scraped his throat.

The fire and ice hero wasactually starting to be convinced.

               Todorokicleared his voice, relaxed into the plastic Ikea chair before considering.Playing out all the possible dreaded outcome that this could come to, the boyfinally let his arms fall onto the steady platform of his lap and lookeddirectly into Kaminari’s eyes, making him shift back a little.

               WasTodoroki’s eyes always that…enticing?

If it weren’t for his unfortunateheterosexuality, the electric hero swore he would’ve drowned into the beautythat is Todoroki’s duo-coloured orbs.

               “Sowhat’s your suggestion, Kaminari?” Todoroki asked, dragging his friend back toreality, “should I go up there right now and say something?”

               “Well,that’s a little bit too straightforward. And sudden.” The spiky-haired boytapped his chin in thought before giving a short pause, happy that his friendwas finally opening up, “Kyouka and I are planning to watch a baseball game thisweekend so we could work with that.”

               Kaminarileaned closer and went on.

               “I’mthinking, I’ll tell Kyouka to invite Yaomomo, and I’ll say I invited you,‘cause Kyouka’s dad has connections with the stadium owner so we can get freetickets, and then we can let you guys have alone time. You know where I’m goingwith this?”

               Todorokididn’t know where he was going with this.

Kaminari gave a sigh at theperplexed look on his friend’s face, “Like a double date kinda thing,” theblond continued, “but of course, without Yaomomo knowing.”

               Alightbulb bursted into life in Todoroki’s head and his eyes widened for amillisecond, but his face stayed impassive.

“Ah, I see.”

What exactly was he ‘seeing’?

               “Holyshit, I swear to all that is holy, I need you to friggin’ give me a smile orsomething ‘cause I have no idea what you’re thinking man! Yes or no?!”

               Todorokiwasn’t used to this assertive side of Kaminari and quickly gave a brief nodbefore replying .

“Yeah, sounds good?”

A moment too late and theelectric hero would have shaken it out of him.

               “That’swhat I like to hear!” Kaminari exclaimed and pounded the table with his fist,earning him a harsh glare from the librarian. He covered his mouth and mumbledan apology to her before whispering to Todoroki, “I’ll text you tonight aboutthe details. Date and time and what not.”

               The boynodded again.

Mental note: Teach Todoroki other gestures other than nodding.

Though it may not seem like it,Kaminari was actually very glad, somehow feeling as though he was able to tearapart the transparent armor that Todoroki always wore around. The two hardlyspoke to each other in class and never would there be an opportunity for themto truly bond, so this could be a start of something interesting?

               “Thanks,”Todoroki said, noticing the grin growing on his friend’s silly face, “Now getback to studying before I leave for dinner.” He picked his head up, taking noteof Yaoyorozu’s missing figure and continued, “And make sure what we discussedhere is between you, me and Jirou.”

               “5bucks and you can buy my silence.”

               Todorokishot him a ‘are you fucking with me’ glare and the boy placed his hands up indefence.

               “I’mkidding! ‘Course I’ll keep it a secret!” Kaminari gave him a thumbs up,pinching his fingers together to heave an invisible zipper along his lipsbefore drowning himself in the textbook.

               Seeingas his friend was again, back to doing his work, Todoroki rested his head inhis palm, mind wandering off, unsure whether or not he should feel hopeful.

~~~

               Afterexplaining the situation and hacking out the plan with Jirou, whose scream ofjoy staggered throughout the hour-long conversation, Kaminari finally felt likeOperation ‘Todomomo’ was going somewhere.

               “Are weseriously calling this Operation Todomomo?” Jirou didn’t sound very pleased, “Istill think Operation Momoroki sounds better.”

               Kaminarichortled, “Well whatever it’s called, it’s gonna be successful.”

               “Yeah,I’ll make sure my dad gets us four tickets, and of course, they’re going to be sittingtogether. And… guess what.”

               “Don’ttell me you’re pregnant.”

               “DENKI,STOP FUCKING AROUND!!! I’M TALKING ABOUT TODOROKI AND YAOMOMO.”

              Jirouheard a snicker from the other side of the phone. He is so getting it when shelays his hands on him tomorrow.

“I’m gonna tell my dad to tellthe guys to put the kiss cam on them!”

               “OH MYGOD THAT’S PERFECT. Should I let Todoroki know?”

               “No wayin hell! It’s gonna be a huge surprise!”

               SometimesKaminari felt like Jirou could be Satan’s spawn (and it makes sense too becauseher dad was pretty devilish at times) but that was why he loved her.

               “Okay,I’m putting you on speaker so I can text Yaomomo,” Jirou said, voice raising inpitch, “Make sure you don’t start singing like last time ‘cause you totallyfreaked my parents out.”

               “Ahhyeah, good ol’ times,” the blond man chuckled and followed suit, “I’m gonna dothe same for Todoroki. But you can sing if you want, ‘cause I like your voice.”

               A blushcreeped on Jirou’s cheeks, phone almost slipping out of her grasp, “Ugh, Denki!!!My dad can hear you!”

~~

               Todorokicreaked open the door to his bedroom, feet heavily shuffling his body towardshis haven.  He laid face first,smothering into his pillow, wallowing in its cottony softness.

He was beyond exhausted. TutoringKaminari felt like climbing Mount Everest with All Might on his back whileBakugou’s screaming bloody murder in his ears. How does Yaoyorozu do this onthe daily?

Finally, he was able to take abreak from the day’s tasks, every muscle feeling as though it went on a deepsleep. From Sero’s crazy antics to Hagakure’s constant squealing, all the noiseformed a subconscious pressure on him. Like a stress bubble ready to pop.

It was a bonus that only hissister was at home too, leaving the house serene and Endeavor-free.

               But inretrospect, he did feel plagued.

Admitting his admiration for a certainraven-haired girl felt like ten pounds off his shoulders, but at the same time,he wasn’t ready for the potential rumour mill. Todoroki wasn’t worried abouthimself actually; he was more concerned how it’d affect Yaoyorozu emotionallyif people were to constantly question her like mosquitoes around a honeycomb.

               Hegrunted into his pillow, playing mental tetris with his thoughts, but suddenlyfelt a light vibration.

               It wasKaminari’s text.

                                                   Kaminari Denki

Yo, so u free onSunday right? 

We gon meet outside Kiyomizu stadium at 1315

8:47pm

                                                                                                                    Ok

                                                                                                             8:47pm

Then we gon take awalk at the park after. 

U know wat u shud do then.

8:48pm

                                                                                                           No I dont

                                                                                                               8:48pm

Confess!!!!!!!!

8:48pm

                                               That’s a lot of exclamationmarks. Ok. Maybe.

                                                                                                                8:48pm

Todoroki flipped over on his back, arms still extended andstared at the screen, hoping magically that Sunday was already over.

This whole thing could either end up like a trainwreck or heand Yaoyorozu would actually….

Actually what?

The boy tossed the phone to the sides of his feet, hittinghis ankles in the process.

If, let’s say, he does confess, and she says yes, then dothey date? Like Kaminari and Jirou? And Midoriya and Uraraka? Or Ojiro andHagakure?

He gulped.

Todoroki Shouto had no idea what dating even was.

Sure, he was confessed to a few times. Heck who was hekidding, he was confessed to exactly fifteen times in his short 17 years oflife (Fuyumi kept count), and every time he would brush the other party offlike the dust on his desk lamp, perhaps a little too harshly, leaving themchoking in tears and snot.

Now, it was his turn on the other side of the fence.

That came to be beneficial now though, since he had enoughexperience to understand how a confession was supposed to work. Chocolates,cards, handmade crafts. You name it. Todoroki had received it all.

The boy covered his eyes and forehead with the palm of hishand for a brief two minutes before releasing yet another loud grunt. He hearda succession of light knocks on his door then.

“Shouto, is everything all right?”

“Ah, yeah sis.”

“You don’t sound like it! Can you open the door? We couldtalk about it if it’ll make you feel better.”

Todoroki pursed his lips together, slightly glad that hissister was so doting but at the same time frustrated at the extra company.

Ever since Fuyumi hit the age of 16, she started gettingmore and more protective of him, always mumbling how she wasn’t a good oldersister, and how she should’ve shielded him from their dad. Becoming a primaryschool teacher was also a way for her to cope, and truly get past her demons.

Todoroki swung his legs over to one side and stepped ontothe tatami mat, creaky noises left in its wake.

He opened the door, “Sure, maybe you can help.”

Fuyumi was almost jumping in joy, content that her littlebrother was letting her into his life. Todoroki scratched his head, internallygroaning again, before he spoke.

“So, I’m going to a baseball game on Sunday.”

Fuyumi listened intently.

“And actually, this girl is coming along and I want her tobe…my friend?”

Todoroki could feel his lips turning dry and puckering; hejust couldn’t get himself to say thatword.

“I see, so you two are not friends already,” Fuyumi left hiseyes in thought, “So you’re concerned about how to get her to be your friend?Who is this girl if I may ask?”

The boy seriously wanted to hit himself by now, “Okay,actually, it’s Yaoyorozu, and-“

“Wait, she’s your classmate isn’t she? She’s the other recommendedstudent. Don’t you two always walk home from school?”

Todoroki and her sister exchanged glances; his, entirelyblank but telling, while hers went from concerned to astonishment. Fuyumi’smouth rounded into a small ‘o’ when the realization finally dawned on herbefore she sucked a breath in, straightening her back completely. She lookedalmost too ecstatic for Todoroki’s liking.

“Oh my goodness, my little brother has a crush! Oh my-“ Shecovered her mouth, face scrunching up in pure joy, “Shouto, you want her to beyour girlfriend!”

Todoroki held his hand by the door, wanting to slide it to aclose to bury in cruel embarrassment. He actually had goosebumps from this, butstill managed to look indifferent in front of his sister, who was gasping andshaking her arms above her like this was the biggest news of the century for asolid minute.

“Oh, Shouto, I’m so happy for you! You shouldn’t be worried,I have faith in my little brother’s charms. Remember, uhh, those fifteen timesyou got confessed to? I swear, if Ms.Yaoyorozu doesn’t like you, she is missingout. Oh my gosh, Sh-“

“Sister, you need to calm down.”

Fuyumi was still smiling, but did as told and watched asTodoroki lowered his head, taking his thumb and index fingers to his temple andrubbing it in circular motions.

“I’m just thinking, maybe I’ve made a mistake with all this.I’m supposed to be a hero, at least working towards being one. I can’t sparetime for this. It’s not helping me, it’s useless and childish. I should befocused on school and my career.”

The woman dropped her arms to the side, lips twitchingalmost as if she wanted to smile, but wasn’t sure if she should. Her hand foundits way to his shoulder and she gave him a light squeeze, motioning forTodoroki to come closer.

“You know what Shouto, I think you’re too hard on yourself.You’re still a teenager. You’re allowed to have fun, even if….even if daddoesn’t agree. That’s what I would want for you. To make meaningfulrelationships. And I think that’s what mom would want too.”

Her voice was so gentle, always lulling Todoroki to a quietmindfulness. The boy read her hard expression and his lips tugged into a raresmile.

“Thanks, sister,” he said, “I’m glad you’re always there forme.”

Fuyumi released her hand, “I wasn’t always, but I will befrom now on.”

~~

When his sister left, footsteps light across the halls,Todoroki slumped back onto his bed. He felt an urge to message Yaoyorozu beforehe let himself drift off to a deep slumber which begs the question: should he?This felt completely new to him, a territory unchartered and unexplored.

Taking his phone, he gulped and scrolled to her name on hisFacebook messenger app, tingling from anticipation but also feeling as thoughhis heart would jump out of his ribcage.

                                                   Yaoyorozu Momo

                                                                                  are you going onSunday

                                                                                                                9:10pm

Todoroki sat there, waiting for a few minutes. No response.

Well it did say shewas on 30 minutes ago, he thought, but his attention was still on thedevice.

He almost shot up like a corpse rising from the dead when hefelt the vibration of hope awhile later.

                                                   Yaoyorozu Momo

Yes I am! Jir justasked me

9:16pm

He saw the small words at the bottom say ‘typing…’  but it flickered to a stop. So he replied:

                                                                                            Ok good me too bye

                                                                                                                   9:18pm

Grasping how awkward his response was considering all rulesof normal social cues, he quickly added:

                                                                                                            Goodnight

                                                                                                                  9:18pm

A smiley face emoji popped on the left side of the screenand Todoroki smiled along with it as Yaoyorozu typed after:

See you, I lookforward to it!

9:19pm

The boy’s hands were sweating; whoever invented instantmessaging was a genius and deserved his many thanks.

Laying his hands down, a small victory envisioned in hismind and soon, his eyelids fluttered to a close without warning.

T minus 1 day.

~~

Kaminari got there early that afternoon, exactly at 12:55pm,Todoroki saw on his watch, and wondered why both the boys ended at the stadiumearly.

“Yo!” The blond waved, his hair looking extra pointy andflashy, “You’re here early too!”

Todoroki grimaced, shutting down ‘plants versuszombies’  on his phone and shoved it intohis pocket. He didn’t want to be early either but he left home planning to walkYaoyorozu to the stadium. When he got to her house, her maid told him that shewent to offer the Mayor some help with the newest revamp of the City hall earlyin the morning. Todoroki caught a few mumbled words after about how‘Ms.Yaoyorozu has a driver so don’t worry’, but he felt so utterly bummed, he hadalready left without listening to the rest.

Her willingness to help people was great, but at the moment,it felt like someone just rained on his parade.

“Kyouka said she’s getting lunch with her parents before soshe told me to come here by myself,” Kaminari went on. Todoroki squinted athim, was it him or did Kaminari look extra bright today? Must be the endorphinswracking his brain.

“Come bro,” The electric hero said in an uplifting tone,dragging Todoroki’s sleeve like some 3 year-old, “I wanna get something forKyouka.”

Todoroki frowned, knowing that his friend wouldn’t notice, andreplied, “why do I have to come with.”

“Because it’s better than you standing there all byyourself?”

“Mm.”

~~

Turning the corner and straight towards the hot dog stand, asmall, hidden florist had their doors opened, ready for business. On the waythere, Todoroki casually questioned whether it was common for him to give giftsand small items of affection to his girlfriend in which Kaminari nodded withouta second thought.

“I like Kyouka so I want her to be happy,” the boy wasbeaming, “You know that feeling when the person you love smiles and you just,totally melt into a puddle? That’s how I feel when I see Kyouka smile. She’slike the light at the end of my tunnel.”

Todoroki was actually impressed with his friend’s way withwords; language had always been Todoroki’s weakest point, but Kaminari hadexplained the storm simmering deep within him whenever he peeked over to ajoyful Yaoyorozu in syllabic perfection.

Yes. A cheery Yaoyorozu, or that look she gets when she getsperfect on a test (which was often), was truly a blessing to the eyes.

As they stepped foot into the air-conditioned store, Kaminariturned on his phone and proceeded to type something on it, tongue stickingslightly out of his mouth like he was concocting a scrumptious brew. Todorokigloved his hands into his front pockets again (his signature, ‘I don’t give acrap’ pose) and gave the inside of the store a quick scan. By the looks of it,the store was probably new and looked very well maintained, assortment ofbouquets and plants adorning every crack and cranny of the facility.

“Excuse me,” Kaminari waved an employee over, “I’m lookingfor this specific one.”

The girl, wearing a green apron that had the words ‘YamanakaFlowers’ on it, scurried over, bleached blonde hair tied up into a highponytail. She didn’t even need to probe the picture on Kaminari’s phone formore than second before she knew what he wanted, going over to a fridge behindthe cashier stand like she had the entire inventory memorized.

“Sir, great choice! We only have eleven of these left!”

The flowers that the girl took out and was holding ontodelicately were the most beautiful navy roses that Todoroki had ever seen. Thetips and edges had a bit of a powder blue tinge to them, granting them a sortof breathtaking magic that the boy couldn’t get his eyes off of.

Kaminari’s eyes pointed heavenward, thinking.

“Okay, I’ll take nine,” The electric hero took out hiswallet, “Make sure you wrap it nicely, miss!”

The employee gave a reassuring smile.

“Why nine?” Todoroki asked, curiosity on the tip of histongue. Nine was such an odd number.

Kaminari strolled closer to the cashier, the boy behind himwalking in tandem.

“Nine roses means ‘eternal love’!”

The pride in Kaminari’s voice had never been so obvious;when it came to dating and that sort, Kaminari was not that giving of a person.It was one of his stronger points within the scope of socializing and Todorokihad much to gain from him.

Todoroki crossed his arms as he watched the girl do the lastbit of taping, handing two different ribbons for Kaminari to choose. The boychose the white silky looking one and Todoroki was actually quite fascinated bythe skill of the florist as the final piece came together with cellophane andtissue paper all around.  

“Could you not get these anywhere else?” Todoroki asked, andthe girl’s eyebrows rose up, head tilting.

“No, you can’t! Our florist has a special technique whencultivating these. Our store is famous because of it!”

The way she answered sounded like it came straight out ofthe employee handbook.

The fire and ice hero watched her eyes sparkle as if to say‘buy from us!’ and he surrendered, fishing his wallet out after Kaminari paidhis. His friend smirked, chest puffed out.

“Ahh, now you’re learning!”

Kaminari gave his friend a big pat on the back, mood stillelevated as it was fifteen minutes ago.

Todoroki shuffled over, peering through the glass behind thegirl and immediately pointed at the ones on the left, though there were onlytwo left standing in the pristine vase.

“I’ll take them both,” he handed her a five thousand yenbill, “I want them wrapped as well. Thanks. And keep the change.”

The last part gave the girl the extra motivation; after all,a two thousand yen tip would have taken her a few clients to accumulate, and sowithin a minute, her careful touch and precise craftsmanship made the smallerbouquet look just as grand as Kaminari’s.

Great, now they get to be two idiots holding flowers in astadium.

Kaminari stifled a giggle at the image in front of him,following Todoroki with a carefree strut, and with a lowered voice, he said,“Todoroki, did you know that two roses mean ‘Will you marry me’?”

The fire and ice hero instinctively gave the floralarrangement an anxious squeeze.

“What?” He gawked at the floral arrangement. His was like acoral counterpart of Kaminari’s. “Am I going to give her the wrong idea?”

Kaminari waved his hand in encouragement, “Don’t worry, I’msure Yaomomo won’t see it like that.”

~~

Jirou, wearing fishnet stockings, a denim skirt and a greyhoodie, tapped annoyingly with the front of her Nikes. People were alwaysshocked when they find out that she was a UA student, in Class A nonetheless,because of her edgy, rock style appearance. Her best friend, though, was thecomplete opposite of her.

Yaoyorozu stood between Jirou and the popcorn stand, handsintertwined at her rear, wearing skinny jeans and a tank top which accentuatedher already more-than-perfect body. She was the epitome of grace, beauty andintelligence. If UA needed a model or a representative, Yaoyorozu wouldprobably be chosen first.

Jirou twisted her earphones playfully with a slim finger,“Where are the guys? They should be here by now. Denki said they got hereearly.”

“Patience, Jirou, I’m sure they just went to the washroom orsomething.”

Bright yellow hair, sticking out like a sore thumb, caughtthe earjack heroine’s attention like ice against skin on a summer day.

“AH, there they-EEHH?”

Kaminari strolled over, apple-cheeked. Even the grin on hisface was wider than usual. As if his flushed complexion was contagious, Jiroubecame red all over, shakily extending her arms to receive the bundle of blueroses that was no longer being hugged by him, the irritation that was etched onher face completely dissolved.

Perhaps the meaning of young love should be Kaminari andJirou.

“Denki, you big goof,” Jirou was so flustered, she couldn’teven look at him, grabbing onto theroses like her life depended on it. She kept pressing her lips together, hidingherself from her boyfriend’s view.

“You showed me them over instagram last time,” Kaminaripressed a hand against his neck, fully facing her and his girlfriend playfullypunched him on the arm.

Even though Jirou was usually acting like a tomboy, Kaminarifound these simple displays of shyness super cute.

“Wow, how unexpectedly thoughtful of Kaminari-san!”Yaoyorozu complimented, hands making lifted fists against her cheeks, eyesbright. She donned a similar expression as when asked to be a tutor.

From the corner of Yaoyorozu’s vision she saw a very awkwardTodoroki (even more awkward than usual, Jirou must say) step forward, his handsclearly behind his back.

“Hey,” his voice came out less bland but Jirou knew forcertain he was trying not to be deadpan.

Yaoyorozu glanced over.

“Yo, Todoroki, are you hiding something?”  Jirou cocked an eyebrow.

The boy suddenly felt very self-conscious, especially whenJirou was observing him with eyes like a hawk. He opened his mouth to speak,but closed it again, swallowing his pride along with it.

Yaoyorozu gave a wave, “Todoroki-san-“

She didn’t even get to finish as the boy released hisrestrained arms to the front and shoved the gift into her face, as if he wantedto wipe her nose in it.

“Red roses, I thought, since Kaminari got one for Jirou.It’d look very bad if you didn’t have some too.”

Jirou gasped, and her boyfriend winked at her.

Yaoyorozu would be lying if she said she wasn’t petrified.Her black bangs were wiggled in between the two roses and with a soft reel ofher fingers, she moved her hair away, understanding completely why YamanakaFloristry was so well-known.

“They are…beautiful. Thank you,” Her gaze dug deep into hisafter lingering too long at the flowers in his hand, as if challenging him tonot look away. Her plush lips tugged into a mesmerizing smile making his mouthtaste like the velvet sweetness of white chocolate.

And so Todoroki was wonderstruck.

He took a deep breath to keep himself present, “Well, I’mglad you like it.”

He let go, and sheheld it tight.

Yaoyorozu mumbled a ‘thanks’ under her breath again, hopinghe wouldn’t hear. Todoroki glanced back over his shoulders as the four headedinside.

Her pink cheeks made his heart race.

~~

Jirou made sure she gave everyone the right seat numberswhen they entered. The air smelled of delicious franks and popcorn. Thesoda-sipping crowd was bustling with excitement, though most were clearlyShiratori’s fans.

“I actually kinda wish that the kiss cam would be on us,”Kaminari cupped his hands around his mouth as he murmured into Jirou’s ear andshe leaned closer, turning to send him a message of her own.

“I think the flowers earned you more than that.”

Hearing that, her boyfriend coughed in a frenzy, steamcoming out of his ears and his girlfriend laughed at his reaction, noticing hishand covering his face in embarrassment.

“Two can play in this game, Denki,” Jirou stuck a tongue outat him.

Leaning forward to her left, she relished at theinteractions that Todoroki and Yaoyorozu were exchanging. The former wasrelaxed, already ensconced into the chair, while the latter poised with handsheld together in the centre of her lap. Yaoyorozu was demonstrating the depthof her etiquette; even when she drank from her bottle, her pinky would raisehigh like a lady in an afternoon tea party.

“Todoroki-san,” the black haired girl started, her beveragenow lowered, “Can I ask you a question?”

The boy shifted his gaze at her and nodded, “Sure.”

“Is this your first time…” Yaoyorozu kept twiddling herthumbs, feeling the bouquet underneath, tickling her ankles, “Your first timebuying flowers? For a girl, I…mean…”

Todoroki shook his head, “I buy it all the time.”

The girl’s eyes became rounded with surprise. So she wasn’tthe first time?

“I buy them for my mother, all the time,” he clarified,expression unreadable and the girl felt the adrenaline pulsing through herveins plummet. Yaoyorozu placed a hand against her chest as if to reassure herpounding heart that it was alright to slow down.

“That’s a relief,” she answered and he looked at her oddly.

“What did you say?”

“Oh! Nothing!” Yaoyorozu gave a chuckle, mentally chidingherself. She was an idiot.

It was safe to say that her phone call two nights ago withJirou was plenty Todoroki-centric. Yaoyorozu never once suspected that her bestfriend would ask her to join her as a fifth wheel; it only made sense that theyasked Todoroki too, in case it got uncomfortable.

But, it was Todoroki,and she was ambivalent in her feelings for him. The only person at her age thatshe had even considered admiring and perhaps it was juvenile of her to thinkso, but he was the most charming guy she had ever met.

And she had met a lotof guys; half of them being suitors from her absurdly flamboyant familyparties.

Todoroki cleared his throat and flipped over the collar ofhis blue overpiece, liking where this conversation was going, and she promptlysnapped out of her reverie.

“And yourself? Is this your first time receiving flowers?”

Yaoyorozu looked sheepish, eyes wandering around, searchingfor the best words to put together, “Well, no. But that doesn’t devalue whatyou gave me, Todoroki-san.”

The boy grinned, satisfied, “Of course. You’re right.”

With a blare of the speakers, the announcer commenced thegame. The Karasu and Shiratori team were already in positions; given the hypethat the ‘wonder duo’ in Karasu was causing in the community lately, the fourUA students had no doubt that they would put up a superb fight against theundefeated champions, Shiratori.

Kaminari wrapped his arm around Jirou, taking in the thrillof the atmosphere, and then the first inning started.

~~

“AWW, WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?” Jirou slapped her thigh in amixture of anger and disappointment as batter 5 was escorted onto the bench,standing up in the process.

Kaminari pulled her down gently, “Kyouka, I think he hurthis finger. But it’ll be fine, they’ve got someone replacing him.”

The girl huffed, “Fine, but if Karasu loses, you’re gettingme ice cream.”

“Okay-“

“Ladies and Gentleman, we will have a short intermission.”

Jirou and Kaminari’s eyes directed at each other nervouslyat the booming announcement, knowing well what was happening next. Jirou couldonly cross her fingers, silently praying that her dad did not screw up.

“So it’s kiss cam time!”

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu looked amused, staring intently atthe large screens hovering over the stadium, clearly clueless on what was aboutto happen.

“AND ITS….THIS COUPLE!”

The image above them gave the four a heart attack. Jirou wasborderline dying on the edge of her seat.

On the giant TV were a stupefied Kaminari and a stunnedTodoroki who seemed to be considering the option of jumping off a cliff.

“SEATS 42 B AND C!”

Jirou cursed under her breath. It was supposed to be C and D,not B and C!

The surrounding people and the rest of the crowd, as Jirouexamined, was appalled. Some of those behind them started to whisper amongstthemselves.

“Aren’t they UA kids?”

“Yeah, hey that’s Endeavor’s son! Can they hurry up,everyone’s waiting.”

“Dude, I remember they were super cool in the sportsfestival! Oh my god and they’re dating?!”

Yaoyorozu began nudging Todoroki, lips curving shamelesslyat the hearsays above her.

“Hurry, Todoroki-san! Everyone’s staring!”

Kaminari slapped himself on the face, “No! What, we…wearen’t a couple! They’ve mistaken!”

“Just do it, Denki,” Jirou muttered through gritted teeth,elbow gouging into his side, “My dad got us these tickets AND they know we’refrom UA!”

Todoroki’s chest rose and fell bit by bit, and flipped overto get Kaminari’s attention. The two began to feel the pressure from thestadium and so without prior warning, the electric hero wrapped his fingersaround Todoroki’s head, white and red filling the gaps, and pushed his lipsonto his.

Would it be ridiculousto say that Kaminari smelled like citrusy goodness?

The fire and ice hero snapped out of it and literally frozehis fake lover’s left palm at the contact, while Jirou and Yaoyorozu envelopedtheir faces in their arms, bowled over, flabbergasted that the guys actuallydid it.

Peer pressure was a force to be reckoned with.

“Ow, fuck!” Kaminari said, scrutinizing Todoroki’shandiwork, “yo, hurry and melt it or Imma get frostbite!”

Todoroki wanted to object, looking menacing and chafed fromthe unneeded streams of cheering. He slammed his left hand against Kaminari’s,breath unsteady, internally wishing that he could hold his anger in before hisfriend doubles over his unfurled knee.

The two boys again gave the screens a quick glance.

In the name of the devil,why the hell are we still being broadcasted?

The announcer could not come in at a worst time, “Aww, sosweet, now they’re holding hands!”

Todoroki swore he could see tears in Jirou’s eyes; both thegirls still giggling non-stop.

“If…If I keep laughing, I’m going to get abs,” words managedto escape Jirou’s mouth between heaves of air and spit, “Ah…that was …toofunny!”

Yaoyorozu didn’t look any different, trying to uphold herlady-like demeanor but rapidly failing.

“We never speak of this again, you hear me?” Todoroki shovedKaminari’s now melted hand back as if touching him for another second morewould give him disease. Todoroki had dark clouds looming over him. The lattermade a disgruntled face, nodding hastily to signify his conspicuous compliance.

The rest of the game was a hodgepodge of mortifying emotionsfor the two boys, but the girls had their fun.

~~

This was easily the craziest Sunday that Todoroki ever hadto endure. Now that they were at the park, as suggested by Jirou and Kaminaribecause apparently the hot dog stand here was ‘amazeballs’, he felt likefinally it would come to an end.

Which really is unfair to say because the girl walkingbeside him was euphoric, seeming to have made the most out of the day comparedto everyone else.

Suddenly, someone’s dainty fingers tapped on Kaminari’sshoulder.

“Hey everyone!” It was Uraraka, bubbly like always, armlaced with Midoriya’s as expected. The green haired boy waved after sheepishlychecking his phone.

“Sorry, we’re late, but thanks for the invite Kaminari!”

Todoroki cocked an eyebrow.

What was Kaminariplanning now?

The electric hero acted as though he was expecting them,though the anxious sweat dripping down his forehead betrayed him.

As Uraraka and Midoriya began to chat away with Yaoyorozuand Jirou, the fire and ice hero almost hauled Kaminari over in haste.

“Why is Midoriya and Uraraka here too?”

Kaminari gulped, “uhh…I might’ve told them to come…to giveyou moral support…”

Was Kaminari asking for death?

“I thought I told you keep it between you, me, and Jirou?!”

Todoroki swivelled on his heel to look behind him. He would notbe surprised if Hagakure and Ojiro jumped out of nowhere by now.

This was the first time Kaminari had heard Todoroki, whowithout a doubt was exasperated to the point where even being his usualbrooding self was not helping, raise his voice.

Kaminari clasped his hands together at his forehead as if tobeg for forgiveness, “Sorry, Todoroki! Slip of the tongue, and I figured you’regood friends with Midoriya anyway, so just see it as extra company, okay?”

There was no point in arguing anyway, and Todoroki did haveto be grateful for the ‘opportunities’ that Kaminari and Jirou carefullystrategized for him, so he let out a sigh, shoulders pulling down, relaxed.

Fine, he’ll let this go.

“Hey, you two! Come back!” Uraraka was directing them backto the circle now,“let’s go around the park!”

~~

Yaoyorozu, Jirou, and Uraraka were gleefully singing toDisney songs in front of them, hands interlocked like the three best friendsthey were as the group meandered through the stone-covered path.

Todoroki watched as Yaoyorozu batted her thick eyelashes,streetlights rendering her like a Greek Goddess, hair blowing enchantingly inthe slight breeze. She was like a prized gem, and he for once was quiteapprehensive to find out how this walk in the park will end.

“We are going over there to check out the lily pond,” Jirousaid, fingers making an imaginary loop around her boyfriend, Uraraka andMidoriya, obviously creating space for the other two, and began dragging herboyfriend along. Yaoyorozu stifled a giggle, waving to send them off to theirown devices.

“Todoroki-san, I’m sorry for today,” the class VicePresident slumped down onto the nearby bench, and gestured for him to followsuit, “I’m sure Jirou planned this so she could …you know…set us up.”

Todoroki was actually taken aback by how direct she was, andcontinued to listen intently. She started gently chewing on her bottom lip,something she often did, and pressed on.

“I’m not stupid, I’ve thought it through and I’m certainthat Jirou wanted to put the Kiss Cam on us,” she noticed how engrossed he wasin the conversation, heart hammering incessantly in her ears, “But it ended upbeing you and Kaminari-san.”

Todoroki didn’t want to be reminded of that dauntingexperience and chose to wipe it out of his memory permanently.

Maybe he should tell her the truth now. After all, therewere only minutes left until they all had to head home. He considered her everymove, feet pressed harder together, and little by little, he took her hand inhis.

Yaoyorozu stiffened at the touch, but did not make a sound.

Todoroki wasn’t sure how to start, unable to even make amonosyllabic response, before taking note of her assuming gaze, so full ofalacrity.

It was then he got to see her clearly. Having her touch wasfreeing. Looking at her was like staring into a kaleidoscope, all the coloursas lively as the first breath of life.

Wasn’t he usually very straightforward and confident? Whatwas happening to him now?

“Actually,” He began to make tiny circles on her knuckles ina semi-playful manner while giving her his interrupted attention, “I was theone who wanted this. The double date thing.”

“Wh-what?!” Yaoyorozu screamed out loud, instinctively pullingher hand free and covering her mouth, incredulously abashed at her reaction, “Whatdoes that-”

“It means that I like you.”

The words were strung with passion, so highly charged thathe surprised himself. But he was serious.

“Do you like me, Yaoyorozu.”

The girl, so painstakingly bewildered, closed her eyes,wanting to hide herself from reality.

“Am I dreaming, Todoroki-san?”

The boy bore a confused expression, eyebrows knittedtogether.

“No, you’re fully awake,” he answered humourlessly and hercheeks puffed up, lips gradually lifting into a grin.

She finally opened her glassy eyes, “Yes, Todoroki-san, I…Ido!”

Her smile really was a godsend.

Todoroki reciprocated the gesture and found himselfinstinctively angling his body towards her, earning him a slight push againsthis hard chest.

“To-Todoroki-san, what are you doing so close?!”

“Well, I need to be if I’m going to kiss you.”

Yaoyorozu was fuming, bashful thoughts inhibiting her,clearly unready for his sudden proclamation, “Please… don’t. I need time to getready!”

He was too outspoken, guilelessly saying what he was in hismind like it was the simplest form of communication. Yaoyorozu needed to getused to it and fast.

Todoroki nodded and mused, learning from Kaminari that teasingwas actually kind of fun.

“Next time then.”

~~

“Deku-kun! I want to go into the pond and get a lily!”

“Ah, Ochako, don’t!”

Kaminari sauntered over to his girlfriend, who was sittingunder a tree with a sketchbook and a pencil in hand, the arboreal awning creatinga dimmer ambience that Kaminari was actually fond of. Jirou began leaving lightstreaks of skilful lines on the barren page, showing how well-versed she was inthe discipline of the arts.

“What are you drawing?”

“Midoriya and Uraraka, of course.”

Kaminari leaned closer, subsequently bequeathing a line ofsmall kisses along Jirou’s jawline and felt the heat rising up her face againstthe edges of his lips.

“Hey, Denki,” she said, putting her equipment down onto thesoft grass, “you think Todoroki and Yaomomo are doing fine right now?”

Kaminari frowned, “Can we just have some alone time, withoutneeding to care about the others for once?”

“Fine, you’re right,” Jirou answered and laid her head ontohis shoulder before suddenly bursting into a stream of laughter.

“What is it?”

“Well, Denki, make sure you wash your mouth when you gethome. You better not kiss me before that, or else it’d be like…..indirectlykissing Todoroki.”

Kaminari snorted, voice cracking, giving his girlfriend alight poke on her forehead, “Stop talking about it or I’ll have to go againstyour wishes!”

The girl keeled over as her boyfriend pushed her under himinto a tickle fight.

Whatever they weredoing right now, Jirou thought, OperationTodomomo to her was an indisputable success.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Phantom Traveler- Part 2

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,114

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this.

Feedback is always appreciated

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Part One

Your name: submit What is this?

“Hi, we’re here to see Max Jaffey. We have some questions for him.” You held up your badge and the woman sitting behind the desk smiled and nodded.

“Right, follow me and I will lead you to him.” You and the Winchesters followed her through some doors and made some turns but finally stopped when coming to a glass sliding door, facing a garden where you saw about a dozen patients hanging out.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Sam smiled at the woman.

“No problem.” You opened the door and walked outside, immediately zeroing in on Max. He was walking with a cane.

“Mr. Jaffey?” You asked as you walked closer to him. You caught his attention and he looked at you then back at Sam and Dean who were unusually quiet. “We’re with Homeland Security and we would like to ask you a few questions about Flight 2485.”

“I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security.” He said confused.

“Right, some new information has come up. So, if you could just answer a couple questions...” Dean asked. With a nod from Max, Sam spoke up.

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything... unusual?”

“Like what?” You knew he knew something but it was your job to figure it out.

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe, voices.” Dean said.

“No, nothing.” You knew that was a lie because he checked himself in here for a reason.

“Mr. Jaffey, you check yourself in here, correct?” You asked him. Max nodded but looked a little nervous. “May I ask why?”

“I was a little stressed; I survived a plane crash.” Max shrugged.

“Uh huh, and that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?” Dean leaned in a bit.

“I... I don't want to talk about this anymore.” Max was getting nervous and when people got nervous, they hid things.

“Mr. Jaffey, please. The other people may not have believed you but that doesn’t mean we will. I promise that whatever you tell us, we won’t think you’re crazy.” You said in a soft voice. You didn’t want to intimidate him.

“There was... this—man and, uh, he had these... eyes—these, uh... black eyes and I saw him—or I thought I saw him...” Max stuttered and tried to piece the puzzle in his brain.

“What?” Dean asked.

“He opened the emergency exit. But that's... that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.” You furrowed your brows together and looked at Sam who looked at Dean.

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asked Max carefully.

“What are you, nuts?” Max scoffed. You rolled your eyes softly and looked away. “He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.” You nodded and looked at Dean.

“Well, I appreciate you taking them time to talk to us but I think it’s time to go.” You knew that if the conversation went on, nothing good would come out of it; just wasted time and you needed that time for other people.

“Sure, no problem.” Max said, watching the three of you walk away. With a smile, you passed by the woman at the front desk and outside where the guards were. You gave them a polite smile and got into the Impala, Sam and Dean fresh on your tail.

“Okay, next person?” Dean sighed.

“George Phelps, well his wife. His house was the next town over near Copy Jack.” You said from the backseat. Dean nodded, staring his beloved car and driving off to where he thought you meant. He thought correctly because the address he pulled up as was the address on your paper.

“Hmm, man, I don't care how strong you are,” Dean started to say as you got out of the car with them. “Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight.”

“Not if you're human. But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form.” Sam replied with. Maybe this is a demon. I’ve hunted them before with John and Dean. You didn’t say that out loud, thinking it was best to keep your mouth shut.

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean scoffed, point to the perfectly, ordinary house. You shrugged and walked up the steps to the front door and knocked. A woman, presumably Mrs. Phelps, answered the door with a confused look.

“Hi, Mrs. Phelps, we are from Homeland Security and we’d like to ask you a couple of questions.” You held up your badge, Sam and Dean doing the same.

“Oh, um, sure, come on in.” She opened the door wider and walked further into her house, expecting you to follow her. You did and ended up in her living room, sitting on stiff chairs, listening to her speak.

“This is your late husband?” Sam asked, looking at a picture of a middle-aged man.

“Yes, that was my George.” Mrs. Phelps sniffled.

“You said he was a dentist?” Dean asked, looking at her.

“Mm-hm. He was headed to a convention in Denver,” There was a pause before she spoke again. “Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that...” She looked like she was about to cry and you knew that you should be the one to talk to her. You were always empathetic. Maybe that was why you had nightmares about monsters for so long when it never happened to Dean.

“How long were you married?” You asked.

“13 years.” She sighed sadly.

“In all that time, did you ever notice anything... strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?” You bit your lip. Mrs. Phelps looked as if she might have something and you looked hopeful for a moment but then she spoke.

“Well... uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.” You nodded and looked at Dean and Sam who got up.

“Thank you for your time. If you have any more information that might pop up, please let us know.” You wrote your number down and left her house, sighing.

“Well, that was a bust.”

“I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense.” Sam scratched his jaw.

“A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage.” Dean declared.

“Oh, boys, if we have to act the part, we need to look the part. The Government won’t take us seriously if we look like this. Time to play dress up.” You giggled, ignoring Dean’s groans and got in the car.

“We passed some stores on the way here and I think they had some suits there.” Sam stated. Dean started the car with a huff but drove off without a word. He parked fairly close to the stores and you got out, looking at the Winchesters.

“Okay, you guys go get suited up and I’ll manage to find something for myself.” You left them without another word, finding a store that had a good selection on professional clothing. It took some time but you bought a grey pencil skirt with a white button up shirt. You looked at yourself in the mirror and threw your hair back, thinking it looked better like that. You purchased some nude pumps and you knew your outfit was complete.

You walked out to the car but didn’t see the boys there. They were probably still in the shop, getting fitted. If there were women inside, it would take a while because you have to admit, they’ve got great bodies. You held the bag that contained your clothes and reached inside the car to put them in the backseat. The car was a low car and so you had to bend down a lot to get it in there.

“Holy shit.” You heard a familiar voice say. You got up and turned towards the boys who were finally done.

“Damn, Winchesters, you clean up nicely.” You smiled and walked to them, taking your time.

“You look amazing.” Dean complimented you.

“Thank you,” You reached up and fixed Sam’s collar for him. “But I always look like this. You’re just too busy to notice.” You smiled at Sam and moved over to Dean, fixing his tie that got a little messy, due to him moving around a lot.

“Oh, I notice.” Dean flirted with you. You blushed slightly. This was how it always went with you two. You two would flirt with each other but nothing would ever happen because you were afraid to admit your feelings to one another.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” You walked back to the car and got inside, all three of you trying to get comfortable in the tight clothing. Once Dean was comfortable, he started the car and checked to make sure it was safe before pulling into traffic. The time it took to get to the warehouse was nothing and soon you were showing IDs to the guards who let you in without a second thought.

Dean reached into his suit and pulled out his EMF radar and plugged in headphones to listen to it privately.

“What is that?” Sam looked at his brother, scrunching his face up.

“It’s an EMF meter. Read electromagnetic frequencies.” Dean stated.

“Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Because that's what I made it out of. It's homemade.” Dean grinned, like it was an accomplishment.

“I helped.” You giggled quietly.

“Yeah, I can see that.” Sam said unimpressed. Dean’s grin faltered and you rolled your eyes.

“Guys, we don’t have much time to do this.” Dean nodded, walking around and looked at the wreckage. He was waving his EMF meter over everything but when he came to the door handle, it went off like crazy.

“Check out the door handle.” He said, putting away his device. The door handle had some sort of yellow substance on it so the logical thing to do is scratch at it and smell it; which he did.

“What is it?” You asked from behind them.

“One way to find out.” Sam took out a switch blade and scraped some of the yellow dust into a plastic bag. You heard shouting come into hearing distance and your eyes widened.

“Guys, we have to move, now.” You and the boys rushed as fast as you could through a door to which you didn’t enter from. As soon as you shut the door, you heard guys yelling from the room in which you were just in. You ran with the boys and hid behind a building when you thought it was safe.

You peeked around the corner and saw a tall fence with barbed wire on top. You and the brothers started walking casually as if nothing happened but when an alarm started blaring, that is when you guys booked it. You rushed to the gate, not knowing how you would get over but Dean was way ahead of you. He threw his suit jacket over the top and held out his hands.

“Get on, sweetheart. I’ll help you over.” You didn’t want to argue so you stepped into his laced hands and he heaved you over. You used his jacket to soften your blow at the top and you threw your heels off, jumping to the ground. You wined at the pain but grabbed your shoes and looked at Sam and Dean. Dean climbed over after you and grabbed his jacket.

“Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.” Dean smirked. Sam shook his head and did the exact same thing. You ran off to the car, getting in and driving off without a second glance to the place. At least you got what you wanted. You put your foot down on the floor of the car but winched when pain shot up your leg.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Dean asked you.

“Yeah, I think I sprained my ankle. Remind me to never jump from fences without shoes on.” You sighed, rubbing your ankle which seemed to ease the pain a bit.

“Yeah why did you take them off?” Sam asked. Sometimes, men could be so clueless.

“You honestly expect me to jump that high off a fence and onto these?” You held up the heels and he shook his head. “That’s what I thought.”

Part Three

Masterlist // Series Rewrite Masterlist

Series Rewrite tags:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19

Forever tags:

@love-like-lies @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester​ @winchesterandpie​

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @mysteriouslyme81 @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm

[lxiewrites]

Talks and Changes

Ch. 7 of Altea High

”Ji-ji! Stop!”

“Payton get out of here!”

Keith wakes up, startled. He can still hear the roar of the fire and the sharp shnick shnick of blades in his ears. He wasn’t there when it happened but his mind can fill in the blanks. As good of a video as it can be some details are better left unacknowledged, too bad his brain didn’t get that memo. Groaning, he buried his face further into his flattened pillow, ignoring the sun peeking out from under the blinds.

Before he fell back to sleep he flipped his pillow over, something he read on the Internet, to change dreams or something. He wished he didn’t dream at all but he needs more sleep. Mr. Kelly or Coran, his Civilian Life teacher, warned them of a big project starting the beginning of the week. In the class so far he has made a birdhouse, came up with three ways to make mac n’ cheese with only three ingredients, and learned how to indicate North. Who knows what the man has come up with.

He breathed in the scent of the detergent that Scarlet used on his bed sheets. He pushed back the past and thought of something that was so far different and off topic and had absolutely no connection to his parents or childhood. He thought of… flowers. Yes, flowers, pretty colorful flowers that his mom used to carefully press between book pages.

Nope. Okay, change of subject.

He thought of… TV, no, no, no, no screens. Okay, cake? Hunk said he would bring fresh baked cupcakes next week. He still hasn’t answered the other boy’s question on what flavor he’d prefer. He replied he’d be fine with anything but he secretly hoped for chocolate. His mom used to make him this chocolate cake for his birthday that was somehow crunchy but still good.

“Gaaaahhhhh,” he groaned into the pillow. He scrunched his legs under him and stretched his arms out in a cat-like stretch. He pulled down his hoodie from when it slid up his torso. He doesn’t have to worry so much about catching on fire when he’s sleeping, thankfully, but now he’s awake and has to be more cautious.

He sat up on his knees, the sleeves long and in his lap, fingers barely poking out of the fabric. He looked to his alarm clock on his nightstand, 7:47 blinked at him in neon green. He reached over and gingerly swept up the nonchalant envelope where he left it. He swallowed and smoothed his fingers over the crumpled paper. It didn’t become wrinkled because of him or Scarlet; he knew that if it was anything of his she treated it with care. It wasn’t well taken care of when it was delivered to the house. Who knows how the letter inside looked.

He moved his legs to sit crisscross, the cotton of his baggy sweatpants catching under him. He felt strangely cool at the moment. Very calm. Years since he had heard from her and suddenly he gets a letter out of the blue. The flap was securely fastened to the pocket, only the barest corner of the envelope wasn’t glued down. Carefully, Keith picked at the corner. It tore, just a little bit but instead of following the crisp line it was predestined to, the tear arced so only a tiny little flap was loose.

He slipped his thumb in the bigger opening, prepared for the odd tearing and uneven scalloping, when there was a knock on the door. His head flew up, bangs in his eyes, as he covered the envelope with his pillow like it was a bad secret.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yes?”

Scarlet opened the door just enough to poke her head through. “Keith, you have that meeting with Shiro today remember? Did you forget?”

Eyes widening, Keith ditched the pillow and the letter underneath it and flew to the mound of clothes on his desk chair. “Shit! I forgot!”

“Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought. You’re meeting him at that café in town, call me when you get there and when you’re done!” With that statement she closed the door.

He starts to put on layers of clothes from the pile and saw the letter peeking out from under the pillow. He paused his harried dressing. After a minute or two he slipped it into his new hoodie.

Minutes later he’s down in his extra layers and a non-sleep sweatshirt. He adjusted his undershirts to line up as he shoved his feet into his shoes. He was adjusting the heel when a firm hand grabbed onto his sweatshirt. He looked up to see Scarlet with her brow furrowed and downturned mouth. “Keith, I know you haven’t opened the note from your mother yet but I just wanted to say that no matter what’s inside you don’t have to do anything it says. It doesn’t have to change you, okay?”

Change me? What—what does that mean? He looked at her, puzzled, a little pebble dropped in his stomach. “S-sure, Scar. Whatever you say.”

She smiled at him but the little creases around her eyes were still there. She nodded. “Okay, I just wanted to let you know. You’re your own person, and I think you’re a very brave young man.” She let go of his sleeve.

Kind words but each dropped little pebbles into his stomach, plopping in and churning the stomach acid and making him vaguely sick.

He left and caught the bus that would leave him kitty-corner to the Just Beans Here.

A short ride later he spotted Shiro with his conspicuous white tuft of hair at one of the outside tables, a cup of coffee still steaming.

The older man looked up from his menu as the metal chair scrapped against the concrete. “Hi, Keith. Get here alright?”

Stomach still unsettled but calm despite the rocky bus ride he nodded. “It was fine. Yours?”

“Well enough, not a lot of traffic at this time.”

The waitress came up then. After getting his order of iced tea she let them have a moment or two to decide on what they’d like. As she weaved between the tables Shiro put on his “working smile” as Keith called it. Polite and friendly but slightly distant. In this moment he was not his cousin but a professional liaison for the small part of the government that dealt with kids who had the unfortunate side effect of having a villainous parent or parents.

“Keith, how have things been so far?”

Keith sighed and rolled his eyes. The pretending always annoyed him. That smile annoyed him. The “I’m you’re friend” annoyed him. Because they didn’t. They didn’t care, he was just either another case or something to be monitored. But this caseworker isn’t like the others; this is Shiro. And he knew Shiro cared about him. It took him a while to realize that but that knowledge was cemented in him.

He hated this part of the routine but knew it was necessary. “Everything is fine with Scarlet. I’ve only melted a few things since last month.” He rubbed the envelope in his pocket between his fingers, debating. “Pretty much it.”

The waitress came back with their drinks. Shiro asked for a Cobb salad because he was prepared that way and Keith panicked and asked for a BLT. Conveniently forgetting he didn’t like tomatoes.

Shiro’s brows furrowed. “I thought you didn’t like tomatoes.”

Keith crossed his arms and frowned. “I don’t, I—I just felt like bacon today.”

The guidance counselor didn’t comment, merely nodded his head. “Okay. So,” He folded his hands on the table. “How’s school?”

Keith’s eyes drifted, taking in small details before answering. The couple eating brunch together, giggling and cooing. Someone typing furiously on their laptop with papers strewn about, taking over the table next to them. A girl with a magazine with a blond man on the cover leaning against nothing, the new CEO of some company or a celebrity he doesn’t know. A woman with a darker skin tone than the young woman behind the magazine bustled around the metal fence, waving.

“Keith.”

Said young man snapped his attention back to the person he was meeting. “Sorry,” His eyes darted back to the young woman who was waving back at the older woman. The girl from the elevator? “School’s fine. As you know.”

Shiro broke character for a minute by rolling his eyes. “I do, but I want to know how you feel. Is it working? How’re classes? Do you have friends?”

Keith leaned his arms on the table. “It’s fine. Classes are fine; the teacher’s are weird. Coran is the weirdest, he keeps giving us random assignments for what’s supposedly a Life Skills class. I don’t know how many birdhouses he expects us to make. My bio teacher is going on maternity leave, I think she would still try to work if it wasn’t for her wife; she called during class to make sure she wasn’t working too hard. It was cute. Slav is…interesting. He spends most of the class going through other world scenarios probabilities. Lance doesn’t help because he keeps asking stupid questions during class.”

“What kind of stupid questions?” Shiro asked.

“Stuff like what are the chances of a building falling because of a kid throwing a baseball through the window, or the probability of someone tossing a water bottle a hundred times and having it land perfectly every time.” Keith chuckled. “One time he asked what was the probability of this guy Sean in out class of getting laid and Slav actually answered him.” He covered his mouth with his wrist as he laughed. “Pfft, he said it was less than twenty percent. Maybe thirty in another dimension.”

Shiro chuckled at his story. It was really funny; he didn’t expect the teacher to actually answer! God, best Tuesday ever. Sean Dick didn’t even try to get back at Lance after that, which Keith thought was nothing short of a miracle.

“It sounds like you and Lance are getting along well.”

Keith didn’t answer for a minute or two. “I guess…Sometimes it’s like he barely stands me. But we can handle it for the rest of the year.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t ‘barely stand you’. He’s a nice kid.”

“He’s fine, but I don’t think we could be classified as ‘friends.’” For emphasis he brought his fingers up for the air quotes. He dropped his hands. “Shiro, why can’t I just get a nullifier? Wouldn’t that just be easier?”

Shiro sighed like the world was on his shoulders. “Keith, we’ve discussed this. You won’t learn how to control your powers yourself. What if you lose it? Or what if it breaks? Then where would you be?”

Keith didn’t have an answer for that.

Satisfied his cousin nodded then he smiled as the waitress deposited their food in front of them. Keith merely nodded with what he hoped looked like a smile, when she left he started to pick off his tomatoes and throwing them on top of Shiro’s salad.

Shiro stabbed through the extra tomatoes and greens. “We might be able to get you a nullifier for special occasions, like games or dances. Hopefully you won’t get detention, but everyone’s required for that one, but you have to learn how to do it yourself if you’re still planning to be a civilian.”

Keith flaked off crumbs of crust from his sandwich and bit into his spear pickle. “I highly doubt I’m going to dances,” he mumbled around the bite of food. “And I am still planning to be a civilian. It’s not like I’m planning to turn evil or anything. Why would I change anything in my plan now? Why would I just suddenly turn evil? It’s not like anyone just turns evil over night and I’m not planning to.” He glared at his sandwich; he flicked off a small tomato seed. God, he hated tomatoes.

“Hey, buddy, no one is saying that you’re going to turn evil alright? Is it someone from school? We can talk to them okay?” Shiro set down his fork, looking at him with concern. His non-metal hand was lying on the table, an offer but not an obligation.

“No it’s just…” he looked away. The girl from the elevator was talking excitedly to the woman sitting across from her. The woman was smiling warmly and nodding every so often. “Just because my dad burned down buildings for money people expect me to. Just, the reputation that my parents turned evil makes it really hard to just…blend in. And this,” he took off his glove and held up his hand and allowed a small orange flame flicker to life. “Doesn’t help.” He closed his hand around the small flame, smothering it.

He slipped his other glove off and picked up his food, tomato free. “I’m just having an off day. People are irritating. Let’s just leave it at that.” He took a big bite out of his sandwich and chewed furiously.

“Okay, if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine.” He resumed eating. Before he took a new bite he asked, “But other than that everything’s fine? You have friends? It seems like you’ve been hanging out with Pidge and Hunk a lot. And of course Lance.”

“Why ask if you already know the question?” Keith quirked an eyebrow at him.

Shiro looked at him, fork paused in midair. Another crack in the professional mask. Keith knew if they weren’t on a ‘business’ lunch he would probably be giving as good as he got. They stared at each other, neither one wanting to give in; Shiro didn’t even blink.

Finally the older man gave in; Keith relished his victory silently. “Just tell me if you’re making friends or not. How about Shay? Are you two getting along?”

“I would say I’m friends with Hunk and Pidge, like school friends, we’re not braiding anyone’s hair or having sleepovers anytime soon. Shay is cool. She’s really cool, like she’s really determined to do her best and improve. I can appreciate that.”

They continue talking about his classes and friends, see how well he’s adjusting in school. All the regular rounds to see if his basic needs are taken care of at Scarlet’s. He doesn’t mention that Scarlet thinks he’s all of a sudden going to turn evil because of getting contact with his mother. Then he would have to discuss his mother and how he felt and why he hadn’t opened the letter yet and he wanted to avoid that inquisition. He’s just out here for his required monthly talk with his cousin.

“Just wait here, you’re going to have to meet someone.” Shiro says as the waitress takes away their dishes. He leaves a few bills on the table for the check and walks over to the table with the girl and woman. The woman smiles warmly as she stood up to hug him. They chat for a bit and Shiro was talking to the girl, then he tilted his head in his direction. The girl nodded and walked over to him. He met Shiro’s gaze and glared at him, who smirked and shrugged in response.

The girl with teal hair pulled into a high ponytail waved as she sat down in front of him, slinging her purse over the back of her chair. “Hi, Keith!”

He gave her a half-smile. “Hi…”

She stuck her hand out. “Plaxum, from the elevator, but you can call me Plax.”

He almost took her hand but remembered why that would be a very bad idea. He quickly put his gloves back on. “Sorry, no handshakes, but, um, that’s an interesting name.”

“Hey, no worries, I forgot.” She picked up the dessert menu. “Yeah, my mom was, and still is, a bit of a hippy.”

“Does it mean anything?”

She set aside the trifold and shook her head. “Nah, not really.”

He nodded.

They sat in silence. It was awkward silence, at least to him. She didn’t seem to mind that much, playing with the menu. They waved the waitress away when she asked if they wanted anything else. He looked over to the other table where Shiro abandoned him. They were talking amicably but it seemed like a serious conversation.

“I’m meeting with Shiro after he’s done. I think they want to introduce you to Mamá Martinez.”

He looked back over, the appearances clicking into place. The same clear bronzed skin, thick chestnut hair, and sharp facial features that are actually quite soft when smiling. Except for the eyes and height they looked remarkably alike, especially if placed side to side.

He turned back to Plax, who was fiddling with the small braids she put into her ponytail; she smiled. “Don’t worry, there’s a reason she’s called Mamá Martinez, she’s really nice.”

“Thanks but why would I meet her? I mean, why is it so important?”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Well, she’s the one that looks after us, checks in, that stuff. She normally does things in person but Shiro’s her intern or something. They might just want you to finally meet her.”

Why would Shiro be her intern? Looks after them? He knew Shiro checked in on him, he thought it was as a representative for children’s services or something. He didn’t think that there was someone else that was supposed to be doing that job. Looking back though things made a lot more sense, still confusing but maybe more sense. But she said us…”What do you mean by ‘us?’”

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Her left arm wrapped around herself as her other came up to cover her mouth. “Oh my God, you don’t know.” Her hand at her mouth dropped to rest on top of the left. Her smile was more subdued. “I forgot that not everyone knows anymore and I kinda thought you already knew.” She met his eyes, brave and a little defiant. “You don’t have her as a teacher but my mother is Luxia. She works at the school and she’s a reformed supervillain.”

He jerked. The table rattled and a glass fell over. He grabbed it right before it fell off the table. “She’s a reformed supervillain?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re her kid?”

“Also, yes.”

“And she’s working at the school?”

“Yes.”

She stared at him, cerulean eyes daring him to say anything bad about her or her mother. When he didn’t follow up with another question she asked, “Isn’t that why you’re here? You’re parents are supervillains like my mom and…” Her head gestured to the adults behind them. “They’re here to help.”

“I—I mean I guess. I’ve never thought about…It’s just…you’re mom works at the school?”

Her brow furrowed and her lips tensed just a little bit more, yet her voice remained level. “Yes. At the school. That can happen, y’know.”

“No, no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I just never thought of it before. I never imagined my mom doing… anything outside of prison. I’ve never imagined my mom outside of prison. It just came a shock that that can happen.” He paused and put as much sincerity as he could into what he said. “I’m…really happy that you have this with your mother.” It just occurs to him that the glass was still in his hand. He set it in the middle of the table.

She smiled at him, defenses gone. “Thank you. That means a lot.” She relaxed her posture, arm and elbow resting on the table, fiddling with a braid. “Mamá Martinez could find a job for your mom or dad when or if they get out. She helped with my mom.”

He stared hard at his unused napkin. He took it and folded one corner of the square to the opposite corner. Keeping his hands and eyes busy. “My dad’s dead, it wasn’t released to the public, but he is. And I have no idea when or if my mom is ever getting out.” He thinks about the slight crinkling that’s in his hoodie pocket.

“They didn’t tell you the sentencing?”

He shrugged, folding the edges to meet in the middle. “I didn’t want to know at the time, still kinda don’t.” He finished folding and pulled on the wings to pop up the crane.

Plaxum nodded and thankfully didn’t say anything else. She took the paper-napkin-turned-crane. “That’s cool.” He didn’t know if she was talking about the bird or what he said. She tried to flap the wings but they barely moved. “Isn’t this supposed to flap?”

One side of his lips hitched up. “It’s a traditional crane. They’re not supposed to flap.”

“Hmm, still cool. Can I keep this?”

“Be my guest.”

She carefully folded the crane flat and slid it into her tiny purse. “If you want you can come talk to my mom. She’s typically free after school. And if you need a friend who gets the super villain kid thing you can always come talk to me.”

Keith hopes he kept the wince off his face. “Thanks for the offer but I’m not sure…”

She held up her hands, stopping whatever his excuse would be. “It’s just an offer, but we can still hang if you want.” She twisted her torso until he could hear a series of cracks from the other side of the table. “I think they’re ready to switch off anyway. I’m going to make Shiro get me ice cream for making my partner Flora.” Her face scrunched up in a glare. “Not funny, Shiro, not funny.” He has no idea who Flora is or why it’s bad that Shiro made them her partner and he won’t ask. He looked over her shoulder to see his cousin giving the woman a smile and a hug. Plaxum turned back around. “It was nice to see you Keith, you should seriously think about what I said.” She got up, slung the chain of her purse over her shoulder and looked over said shoulder, teeth gleaming. “See you in school Keith!”

He waves goodbye as she hugs Mrs. Martinez and makes a little hop over to Shiro. After a lot of gesturing and looks of disapproval from Plaxum Keith can see the exact time Shiro gave in. The man looked back at Keith and called out, “See you Monday, Keith! Behave yourself for Mrs. Martinez all right?”

If he could physically roll his eyes out of his head he would. “Goodbye, Shiro.”

Mrs. Martinez chuckled as she sat down where Plaxum left the chair out. “He’s a character that one. Hello, Keith,” She smiled at him, kind brown eyes that seemed very warm. She either did a great job at balancing the caring and professional relationship to the point one couldn’t tell or she just did a shit job of it. The aura she gave off was very…maternal. “I’m Isabella Martinez, you can call me Isabella, Bella, Mrs. Martinez, and some call me Mamá Martinez. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

He nodded. “Thank you, I think I’ll stick with Mrs. Martinez.”

She smiled at him, her phone buzzed and she shot off a quick text before focusing her attention on him again. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions but long story short: I’m a senior caseworker for the Administration for Children and Families that specializes with supervillains and their children. I’m technically your case manager until you turn eighteen. To make sure you’re getting proper education and that where you live is safe, etcetera etcetera. So far you’ve been dealing with Shiro, your cousin correct?” He nodded. “Now, I normally would be doing it and we’re bending the rules of ethics here by allowing Shiro to be working with you on your case but it’s an exception due to past performance with previous social workers.”

His memories bring up fake friendly adults with too big smiles and too bright voices that wouldn’t even meet his eye. He was so angry and frustrated back then he refused to even try to work with them. For a while he didn’t even speak, which certainly didn’t help when he kept getting kicked out of foster homes for setting shit on fire. He’s not gonna lie and say he didn’t get some satisfaction of being a little shit to them, but he hoped he matured a little since then.

She gave him a look that tells him that she knows exactly what he’s thinking, but the little smile showed that she wasn’t particularly angry. “Do you have any questions, Keith?”

“Why is Shiro on my case? He’s not even a social worker.”

“Well, it’s complicated. About a little over a year ago I contacted him when he was working as Altea’s guidance counselor for a couple of months asking if there was any information about you that could help. He offered to house you and while that would’ve been ideal he was fresh out of graduate school, it was years since you’ve last seen him, and his housing wasn’t exactly fireproof. It didn’t seem like the best situation when I already had Scarlet in mind.

“But he wanted to help and now he’s helping me part-time and the school’s liaison. Working with him and Allura has honestly been a godsend. His only cases are you and Plaxum, but it’s more so school focused. Other than you he’s not doing more than what his guidance counseling requires.”

Keith nodded. “Okay, that makes sense. But why are you meeting with me now?”

She smiled at him. A very genuine smile that was very fond but somehow seemed a little sad. “Well, it’s been a couple of years but we have met before. You were still so closed off I’m not surprised you don’t remember, but I heard from Shiro that you’re doing better so I thought this might be a good time.” Her phone buzzed and she quickly texted back, she shook her head fondly, still texting. “I’m sorry, it’s just my youngest son. He’s just being ridiculous.” She put away her phone. “Okay, so Shiro told me that you have some concerns over your control? It looks like you have plenty of control right now, nothing’s on fire and you had that flame under control from before.”

He frowned a little bit, so she was keeping tabs on him. He flexed his fingers. It’s true, he was pretty under control right now but he could still feel the heat swimming just under his skin. “I’m pretty calm right now. And that flame was really small.”

“Well, from previous reports it seemed that even that is an improvement from when you were younger.”

His brow furrowed. “I suppose.”

She held up her hand in a placating gesture, silver bracelets jingling. “I apologize, I just meant is that you do have control. Don’t discredit the work that you made to get here. Isn’t there someone at school that can help you with controlling your powers?”

That’s something that never occurred to him before. He supposed that he did do a lot of work to make sure that he has more control than he did before. He watched as the heat from his hands melt the leftover ice cubes in the glass that didn’t fall. His gloves weren’t smoking but acting like a furnace in eighty-degree weather wasn’t his goal. He set his hands in his lap. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, there’s no harm in asking. The sooner you find a tutor the sooner you learn and the sooner you won’t have to worry about your powers.” She might have a point but he’s been fine up until that point. Like she said he’s made improvements, he’s sure that he can make more. But how long would that take? That annoying voice of Shiro’s slithered its way into his thoughts again. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, alright? I believe under certain circumstances I can use some connections to get a portable nullifier.” She checked her watch and made her way to stand. “I’m sorry, Keith, but I have to go. If you need anything just ask okay? Shiro has my number if you need it.”

He stood up too, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket. The smooth texture of the envelope met his fingers. “Okay, I’ll tell Shiro if I need anything, and I might take you up on the offer for a nullifier.”

She shook a finger at him. “That nullifier is just in special circumstances. Like in crowded contained areas.” Her phone buzzed again continuously. “I’m sorry, it must be my son. I hope to hear from you soon, Keith!”

She rushed off speaking rapidly in Spanish. He didn’t catch much other than a brief squawk of, “Cora did what?!” followed by even more frantic Spanish as she started to jog to her car.

He snorted softly, pulling out two dollars out of his wallet for the tip. Instead of returning it to his pants pocket he clutched it in his hand in his hoodie. The pointy corners of the unopened letter jabbed at his palms. He scowled. He wasn’t evil and he wasn’t going to turn evil either. No matter what others think. Plaxum’s mother might be the exception but he’s not even going to go there.

His fingers rip off the flap on the crease, a neat, straight as an arrow line. He tosses the flap in the small trash on the bus. Foregoing a seat he wraps a hand around a yellow pole and waits out the bumpy ride. His other hand in his pocket slowly tore the rest of the envelope on the crease until he could slip out of the letter. He briefly thought that maybe he should wait until he’s around a source of water.

No matter what’s inside you don’t have to do anything it says. It doesn’t have to change you, okay?

Keith’s mouth pinched at the implication. Steeling his determination he took out the letter and let it unfold on its own. Emotions shoved to that dusty box in the back of his mind he started reading the familiar handwriting.

There’s nothing to change.

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