#probably bc I have not gotten much sleep this week + screwed something up at church this morning + feeling weird emotionally

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

having a bad day ladies I think I need prayer, coffee, bread, and a good book, in that order

[jungkxook]

—midnight getaway. (m)

⟶ pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader 

⟶ genre: sprinkle of youtuber!wooyoung + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 6,488

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: a “romantic” getaway surrounded by your friends leads to an interesting night alone with wooyoung

⟶ warnings: pwp, wooyoung says baby a lot bc he’s in love, some teasing woo, exhibitionism, doggy style, sort of praise kink, ass play (fingering, fem!recieving), breast play/fondling, finger sucking, riding, unprotected sex, creampie 

⟶ note: this is the first fic i’ve written in a while and my first ateez fic no one come for me pls also this is dedicated to the lovely @kithtaehyung​ !! thank you for always encouraging me and my wooyoung antics!! 💛

p.s. this is shamelessly inspired by this wooyoung selfie!!

“Ugh. You obviously like her.”

The begrudging sigh comes from Yeosang, narrowly giving Wooyoung a heart attack when he realizes that you’re still within earshot. This wouldn’t have been so much of an issue had Yeosang not been so clearly talking about you to Wooyoung, though he barely has any time to recollect himself. Instead, sprawled out on the poolside of the villa the group had rented out for their week-long vacation in Jeju Island, Wooyoung firstly decides that he has no idea what Yeosang’s talking about.

“We’re just friends,” Wooyoung retorts.

“A friend you invite with you on a romantic getaway?” Yeosang asks with a wolfish grin.

Wooyoung shakes his head. He can still see you through the windows of the villa, now in the kitchen talking to Hongjoong. You’re all bright-eyed and glowing from the sun, in a swimsuit you had been putting to use just a few minutes ago when you took a dip in the pool. “Some romantic getaway, considering there’s seven idiots in the same house as us. Also thought this trip was meant to have no distractions.”

Which isn’t really a lie, because while their trip to Jeju was mostly for their YouTube channels, it was also meant to serve as a well-deserved break for the boys, and their leisure work of choice wasn’t exactly taxing and the majority of their trip so far has been spent simply enjoying themselves. Hongjoong had been so adamant too that there would be nothing to hinder them during their well deserved break. And of course you jumped at the offer to tag along when Wooyoung asked you, because you were his best friend but, moreover, his best supporter when it came to his passion and his videos.

“Yeah,” San hums nonchalantly from within the pool. He had been one of the few to jump in with you earlier, “but I don’t think friends flirt with each other on a daily basis.”

“Not to mention your video was all about her,” Jongho adds from beside Wooyoung. “I thought we were supposed to be promoting tourism in Jeju, not Y/N.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration. Sure, you had featured in a lot of the video Wooyoung had only just posted for his “Our Side of the Story” series he was doing (mostly daily vlogs, or aesthetic short films that you’ve always loved ━ much like the others, who have found a way to incorporate their love for music, dance, cooking, and everything in between in their vlogs), but you always made an appearance when you were so close with him. His viewers were used to it by this point, safe for the occasional questioning comments as to whether or not you two were dating. This video in particular saw you having the most fun in a while, frolicking the streets of the city, sprinting across the beach into the shallows of the ocean to try and splash Wooyoung with water; shaved ice shared between you and him and the way you snuck a bite of his when he was preoccupied, bike rides along the waterfront, and clambering along hiking trails so you could pose in a field of flowers that you had so desperately wanted to see.

Now, Wooyoung gives a roll of his eyes. “Funny. I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yeosang sighs again. “When are you gonna tell her the truth?”

“The video already kind of did,” Jongho points out tauntingly. “If I was Y/N, I would have already realized.”

“Yeah━” San is beaming now as he clambers out of the pool, “but if you don’t want her, Woo, can I make a pass at her? Y’know, just to help take her off your hands━ Ow! What the hell?”

San jumps suddenly when Wooyoung chucks one of the pillows off of the lawn chair at his head.

“Keep your hands off her━” Wooyoung chastises. It’s meant mostly as a joke, but he worries when he recognizes a small part of him seems to care a little too much.

The others seem to find it funny at least, erupting into howling laughter that’s quick to fade when you wander back out to the pool and throw yourself next to Wooyoung.

“They’re definitely starting to catch on.”

Wooyoung lets out a weary sigh, though you’re starting to find it difficult to focus as he continues to kiss down your throat.

So, maybe if any of the boys walked in and saw the both of you in such a compromising position, they would be indescribably confused while also preparing to point an accusatory finger at Wooyoung for technically lying to them. But it isn’t really a lie, and certainly not one neither he nor you were keen on keeping for very long. It’s just that it seemed a whole lot easier to keep your newfound two month relationship with Wooyoung a secret for a small while.

It was mostly to give the both of you enough time to enjoy yourselves thoroughly without the prying eyes of your friends (who, while always supportive, are already passionately invested in your lifelong friendship with Wooyoung, pointing out his feelings for you even far before he could decipher them), their vlogging lifestyle, and their fans, while also waiting for the proper time to expose the truth. After the Jeju trip, you had both promised each other. But that plan was beginning to look more and more faulty as time passes.

What was supposed to be an innocent trip to Jeju with your friends turned into a tricky game in which Wooyoung had entirely different plans that consisted of you only. Specifically, how many times he can find you alone away from the boys to have his way with you. By now, night has since fallen and, after a short duration of time unwinding around a small bonfire in the backyard, the boys had all since retreated to their own rooms. You’re positive most are already long asleep and the ones that aren’t are beginning to nod off, exhausted after a long day and drowsy with liquor from the night of drinking. You’re fortunate Wooyoung at least first chose to find you alone in your room of the villa, but you still panic. Because Wooyoung should be sleeping in his shared room with Hongjoong down the hall from yours, yet here he was.

“My video today probably didn’t help,” Wooyoung adds. 

You hum in response. “I don’t know if sneaking into my room will help with that either.”

At this, Wooyoung grins wide. “It’s fine. Hongjoong’s passed out cold. You should hear his snores. Plus━” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep without wondering how quickly you can cum.”

You nearly choke as you hear the words fall from Wooyoung’s mouth.

But it wasn’t his fault ━ he has needs too.

The first night of your trip called for a joyous celebration at a nearby restaurant that resulted in everyone being blissfully drunk by the time you returned to the villa. You had gotten so dressed up for the occasion that Wooyoung hated to see it go to waste, adorned in a pretty floral sundress ━ one that has always been his favourite (and, no, he promises that’s not solely because of how nice your boobs look in it, though that’s definitely a plus). If the boys could hear his thoughts now, they’d certainly pick him apart.

The house, however big and spacious it may be, is certainly not empty. Even just next door to your room is the shared room both Mingi and San are in. This is a fact you choose to remind your dear boyfriend of now. “The boys are sleeping.”

“Screw the guys,” Wooyoung groans into your neck. His strong arms slide around your middle from behind, pulling you into an all too familiar and warm embrace. He’s caught you just before you can shed your dress and slip into something more comfortable, all radiant and shimmering from a day out in the sun. You melt almost immediately against his chest as he nibbles on the skin just below your ear, on the corner of your jaw. He whispers ardently, “You look really pretty today. You always do, but especially today.”

A gentle smile spreads across your face. You instinctively reach out behind you to rest your hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tugging at the hair there. “I wore this dress just for you. I know it’s your favourite.”

“Yeah, because your tits look amazing in it,” he snickers. As if to emphasize this, he reaches down slyly to cup one of your breasts over the material of your dress, giving it a squeeze.

“Well, now you’re just trying to distract me into bed with you.”

“Is it working?” he asks hopefully, a smug grin on his face.

You snicker, fidgeting in his hold to face him and patting at his shoulder. “Maybe if we weren’t surrounded by a group of seven drunk men who could potentially hear and walk in on me sucking you off at any moment.”

But Wooyoung has already waited all day for the boys to leave you two alone. Waiting any longer may as well have felt like an eternity in a certain type of special hell that he wasn’t exactly keen on.

“And?” A sudden smirk stretches across his face. He leans in close to you, lips brushing faintly against your ear. “You didn’t have a problem letting me fuck you against the practice room mirror the other day.”

You swat lightly at his chest, scoffing suddenly. “Wooyoung!”

But he has a point. In all fairness, it had been his idea to take you against the practice room mirror when the boys had gone home and you were dropping off food to your poor boyfriend still working late at night. You certainly hadn’t complained then when he had you coming around his cock with the practice room door left unlocked. It’s such a Wooyoung thing to say too, being that he’s not often caught off guard, especially when he’s so blatant and confident about all things sex.

“Can’t you keep it in your pants for one night, Woo?”

“No, he’s in pain,” he pouts childishly. He bites playfully at the tip of your nose.

You sputter for air, dissolving into a fit of laughter. “You did not just call your dick a he━”

“Okay, I’m in pain,” he corrects. He starts kissing down and back up your neck. “It’s not my fault you look extra hot today. Besides, you looked like you were having so much fun today. Is it so wrong for me to want to keep pampering my beautiful girlfriend?”

“With your dick?”

“Yes, with my dick.”

You snort.

“And━” He drags out the word purposely, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t even want you to suck me off, by the way. All I want is to fuck you senseless right now.”

Oh.

His words send a nerve right down to your core. Your thighs instinctively press together at the thought.

All things considered, you’re not any better. There was no denying how devastatingly attractive your boyfriend always looked, but especially today. A well-deserved break and the Jeju sun did him well, with a beautiful tan starting to glow on his face, free of any make-up or cover-ups. The usual stress of city life and work doesn’t weigh heavy on his brows anymore, and though his hair has gotten longer, it’s a neat and pretty mess ━ a little unruly from the sun and chlorine, and from having taken it down from its half-ponytail, but pretty nonetheless ━ with the under half of it bleached blonde and the top half dyed black. Dressed in nothing but a casual old t-shirt and a pair of board shorts, he’s both wholesomely cute and yet sexy at the same time.

And, while you are surrounded by a group of rowdy boys, Wooyoung isn’t necessarily wrong. He always seems to have a knack for making anything romantic enough if he tries, attributed to his charming ways. A night of lovemaking (or whatever he has in mind) in your room with a beachside view is, all things considered, kind of romantic.

You purse your lips now. “Think they’re all asleep?”

“With how wasted they are? Absolutely,” Wooyoung says brightly. “I tripped over a shoe in our room and Hongjoong didn’t even move.”

It’s risky, sure, but the sudden yearning to be with Wooyoung was almost debilitating. There was no doubt you could both get away with having sex in a packed house, right? Either way, it doesn’t really seem to matter. You’ve already been persuaded, and Wooyoung knows.

He pulls you in for a kiss and you let him get carried away for a moment, reveling in the way he needily nips and sucks at your lower lip. Then, finding a second of clarity, you can be heard saying against his mouth breathlessly, “We’ll have to be quiet.”

“Mmm,” he hums distractedly. “So quiet.”

But that was like asking Wooyoung not to breathe. It’s this passing thought, and the way he pulls and tugs you over to sit on his lap as he sinks onto the edge of the bed in a desperate haste, that has you giggling. He leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down to the underside of your jaw and then along your throat.

You tug at the hair at the nape of his neck as you begin to rut your hips against his slowly. “You look really handsome today, baby. It’s nice seeing you so relaxed for once.”

His stare meets yours suddenly, all sparkling and awed. He grips your waist and presses you a little more firmly against his hips so you can feel his semi-hard dick against your inner thigh. “Ugh,” he sighs, “say that again and I’ll bust a nut right here and now.”

Another giggle meets his ears, but this time it’s a little less focused as it splinters off into a whimper the longer you continue to grind against him. You decide to humour him. “I saw your vlog. It was pretty.”

He audibly whines now, his heart threatening to burst through his chest. “Yeah? I worked hard on it.”

“Is that how you see me?” You think back to the video and how you looked, the soft music overlapping it all.

“Yeah,” he deadpans, “like that piece of washed up kelp you tried throwing at me today━”

“You’re so━”

“I’m joking. Of course that’s how I see you, but that’s only a fraction of what you look like to me. A camera doesn’t do you justice.”

“So you think I’m pretty?” You snicker.

“So pretty.” He kisses you again, this time a little more earnestly. He sighs dreamily against your lips, “No, actually. If my dick isn’t in you in the next minute, I’m gonna go insane.”

A delighted simper sounds from you. “Don’t even have to cum, just as long as you do━”

Your jaw drops open as you find an angle that has you pushing your clit against his clothed dick just right. But even though you had so innocently offered to only get him off, part of the fun was seeing how quickly and how many times he could make you cum before finishing himself off. You deserve it, after all.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he moans. He takes a moment to appreciate you in your current state. You, straddling his lap, eager hips moving against his with your brows pinched in concentration, the pretty material of your dress hiking up around your thighs. He reaches down, palms rough as they grip at the soft flesh of your thighs. “Look at you, already so needy for me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Wooyoung fidgets beneath you. He burrows his face in the crook of your neck, nipping at your throat.

“How do you want me first, princess?” he asks sweetly now, peppering kisses along your throat, tongue soothing the marks he’s left behind. “Want my fingers in you?”

“N-No━” You croak. “Just wanna feel your dick.”

Excitement prickles at the tips of his fingers as he massages circles against your hips. “In your mouth or in you?”

“In me,” You rasp. “Now. Please, Woo━”

He marvels for a moment at how he’s so stupidly in love with you and your pretty words despite them having such dirty implications, and he hastens to please you. A wolfish grin tugs at his lips as he smothers them against your mouth, but then the giddy sensation of finally getting to have his cock buried in your walls overcomes him. He murmurs into a wet kiss, “As much as I love this dress, let’s get it off of you.”

He hastens to help you shove the straps of your dress down your shoulders, then off your arms. Then, he watches as you stand up to shimmy your way out of it, the material pooling at your feet, exposing your figure and the fact that you’re not even wearing a bra. The swell of your breasts meets his eyes first, and you’ve barely just kicked your way out of your panties when he’s pulling you onto his lap again, warm mouth latching onto one of your breasts. His lips wrap around your nipple, teeth nibbling on the sensitive bud. He can’t seem to get enough, moving to bite and suck at the soft flesh all over, shifting from one to the other, then down the valley of your breasts. A moan falls from your lips, hands pulling harshly at his hair as you push him further into your chest.

“Wooyoung…” You whine. “We gotta be quick.”

Though he wants nothing more than to mark up your chest all over, he relents only when he remembers that the boys are nearby. “Okay, okay━ Here━”

He grabs at your waist, shifting you around until you’re on your back splayed out beneath him. Towering over you, he pushes the material of his shorts down, pulling his aching dick from the tight confinements. Your eyes fall to the way he fists himself hurriedly, tip all red and glistening with precum, and the one prominent vein bulging along his length. You bite at your lip, legs instinctively spreading wider for him.

“Are we really gonna do this?” he asks, excited. “With the guys here?”

“Think it’s too late to ask when we’re both already naked,” You giggle. You remind him again, this time a little weaker, “Just remember to be quiet.”

He hums in response. Then, he teases you by running the length of his hard dick against your slick folds, already dripping with slick arousal.

“God, baby,” he groans, “you’re so wet already.” He taps the tip of his cock against your pussy, the sudden jolt sending your head spinning. As he rubs himself on you, the sticky wetness glides along the prominent vein of his length and spreads messily out to the top of your inner thighs. “Did I do all this to you?”

“Woo, no teasing,” You chastize in a small whine. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling, and you hate having to resist all his teasing touches. “What if someone tries coming in?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Let them. If it’s Seonghwa, even better. I can finally get payback for when he purposely ate some girl out on my bed.”

You snort lazily, stifling your giggles. “Focus, baby.”

“I am focused,” he says smugly. He emphasizes this by pressing his dick a little harder against your folds, teasing the tip of it against your entrance. “With you spread out like this for me, all sexy━ Fuck, I’m so focused.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is that the thought alone of one of the boys walking in on the both of you is enough to excite him to no end. He can imagine it now, one of them wandering into the room while you’re writhing beneath Wooyoung, taking his dick so well, moaning nothing but his name. He yearns to feel you all at once, hurrying to please you.

Without warning, he pushes himself into you, cock stretching you wide in just the way you both like. Almost immediately, low gasps and groans sound from the both of you.

“Ah, f-fuck! Woo━” You smother your sudden cries with a hand clamping over your mouth.

“Shit, I know,” he sputters for air. His voice is heavy in your ear, a low grunt only for you to hear. “You feel so fucking good, baby━”

His head is swimming even just at the way your walls wrap around his tip so snug. He pushes himself into you the rest of the way, bottoming out with a sudden forceful and indulgent thrust when━

The headboard slams against the wall, exceptionally loud.

“Fuck, Wooyoung━ Woo━” You grip at his arms. “The bed.”

His eyes meet yours, stunned momentarily as you wait and listen. A minute passes, but the house continues to remain silent.

“It’s okay. Even if they do hear, it’s not as if they probably won’t know what we’re doing,” Wooyoung points out, matter-of-fact. “We haven’t exactly been very careful lately.”

“Still,” You insist. Your walls throb around his hard dick, desperate for some sort of movement. “It’ll give me some peace of mind.”

His heart swoons at your timidness, and though he has fun teasing you, he would never actually want to risk getting caught by one of the boys (however many close calls he’s already had with you) or, worse, upsetting you to the point of no return.

In the next moment, Wooyoung pulls out of you, then pushes back in again, this time less forceful. He swears he tries to be wary of the bed and of making too much noise but, much to both of your dismay, while the frame doesn’t bang against the wall too noticeably, the bed still creaks beneath you.

Wooyoung grits his teeth. He tries again, then one more time, and though your head lolls back at the sensation of him stretching you wide, you meet his gaze with your own apprehensive hazy one. Even Wooyoung’s patience is wearing thin when all he wants to do is tear you apart ━ that, and the slight creak of the bed is enough to start driving him insane.

“Fuck this,” his pace stutters to a halt, “let’s get on the floor. Can you get on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“Good idea.” Your heart jolts in your chest from the excitement.

Within a matter of seconds, he’s parting from you, leaving you momentarily stunned at the loss of warmth. He helps you to your feet so that the both of you can sink to the floor on your knees. Before you can drop into all fours, Wooyoung stops you by reaching out for the blanket on the bed and tucking it underneath the both of you, but mostly to soften the ground underneath your knees. When he catches you surveying him with a fond gleam in your eyes, he quirks a brow.

“What? It’s just so you don’t get too uncomfortable,” he says sweetly, peppering a few kisses along your shoulder. “Is this good?”

“Amazing.” Your heart swells at all his gentle touches. You catch his lips on yours, faintly murmuring, “I love you. Like, so much.”

You can feel his grin against your mouth. “You know I love you too. And as much as I would also love to hear you go on about how I’m the most perfect boyfriend, I need to be in you right now.”

A pretty giggle meets his ears, and he marvels for a second how you’re so quick to oblige. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your ass juts out in his direction. You give it a little tempting wiggle, and he hurries to position himself behind you. With one hand on the small of your back, he guides you back down his length.

“Ah━ Fuuuck━” He moans. “Arch your back a little more for me, baby.”

You do as you’re told, leaning forward just enough on your elbows and sticking your hips back to meet his as he sinks balls deep into your core. Then, he’s crumbling apart, all breathy panting as he tries to focus.

“Shit, baby━”

“Mmm━”

“You’re so tight. So wet. I’m not gonna last,” he pouts, as if it’s a genuine disappointment. He watches as he pulls out of your heat just enough before shoving himself back in, his dick covered in a glistening sheen of your arousal. You’re so damn wet, he wonders how he hasn’t slipped from you yet. His hands grip and tug at your ass, spreading you to see the way your cunt pulsates and stretches around his dick. So perfect, almost as if you were made for him. “Tell me. Wanna hear how good you feel right now.”

“S-So good,” You mumble drunkenly. “God, you’re so good, Woo. Fuck━!”

His gaze droops down to your breasts, bouncing with each thrust of his hips into yours. He reaches around and grabs at one of your boobs. The gentle shake of the soft flesh in his palms is always his favourite feeling, and he can’t help but squeeze at them now because, god, he really does love your tits. If he had all the time in the world, he would do anything to fuck himself between your boobs, and cum all over your chest ━ but that will have to wait for now.

“Ah━ Fuck━ Wish I could take my time with you right now,” he moans, planting sloppy kisses along your shoulder. “I can’t wait till we’re alone. Gonna take care of you so well, baby.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grunts. He reaches down with his other hand, thumb pressing against the tight hole of your ass. The sensation alone is enough to have you nearly keeling over, a strangled cry of pleasure ripping from you. “Want you coming on my tongue so bad. Gonna fuck you against every surface too. You deserve it. You’re always so good to me, princess.”

“Only for you,” You whimper. If he wasn’t so pressed for time, the affirmation alone would have been more than enough to make him melt in your very hands. But his dick is still so hard, and your pussy is still so wet, all he can focus on is not slipping from your walls with every thrust of his hips. “Ah, Wooyoung! Y-You’re so━ So hard━”

You bite harshly at your lip when a loud moan threatens to spill from you. You bury your face in the blanket around you, clutching so tightly at the material. A part of Wooyoung finds it amusing, if only because, if the boys are awake and don’t hear your lewd moans, there’s no doubt they won’t be able to hear the sound of skin against skin as his hips slap against your ass.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he coaxes now. “Moan out loud for me.” When you shake your head, he snickers. “Want it harder? Will that help you?”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips, a little rougher than usual. It sends you teetering forward, a broken groan tumbling from you that’s left muffled by the blanket. He can hear you mumble wantonly, “Don’t be a tease.”

A cheshire-like grin spreads across his face. “Here━ Come sit on my dick. Wanna feel you so deep━”

His words make you moan softly, followed by the way he pulls out of you just quickly enough to sit back against the bed. He tugs you onto his lap and you follow suit, spreading your legs further apart as you sink onto his leaking dick. Down, down, down, until it almost feels as if he’s hitting your cervix, and suddenly you’re not so sure you’ll be able to keep it together any longer. That, mixed with the way he’s gazing at you, all hooded eyed and alluring, you’re very close to dissolving into a mess right in his very arms.

“Ah━ Ah━ Fuck, baby━” You grip at his shoulders as you adjust to the new feeling, hips squirming above his. “Wooyoung, please━”

But your words fall short. The desperate plea that hinges in your voice fades into nothing more than the urgent need to feel more of him, to have him absolutely wreck you, as you begin to rock your hips back and forth on his dick.

“Please what, baby?” he taunts lazily. But he knows what he’s doing, slyly beckoning you to make a mess, and moan for him.

His palms are warm as they slide up your sides, then around your back, hugging you close to his chest. He thrusts his hips up just once into you, sending you into a haste that has you lifting yourself up and then back down his cock. As you adopt a steady and reckless pace that has you bouncing on his length, he watches your every reaction. The way your face contorts at the sheer pleasure, brows pinched so hard in concentration, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Your hands reach out to thread through his long locks, pretty blonde tresses running through the seams of your fingers. You tug lightly at the root, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N━” His head rolls back against the mattress at your quick pace. “You’re so fucking sexy━ So desperate for my dick━ Ah━”

He moans suddenly, only this time it’s less muffled than before. Whether he does it the first time to tease you or simply because he had gotten carried away, you aren’t quite sure. Either way, it’s enough to startle you, even amongst the daze you’re in.

“Wooyoung━” Your voice is a small warning, but it lacks any severity when it splinters into a whine. “Not so loud.”

“They’re━ Ah, fuck━ sleeping━”

You meet his mischievous stare with your own heedful one. Your pace slows, if only just, and you’re certain this time that when he moans even louder, it’s entirely on purpose.

“Woo!” You clamp a hand softly over his mouth, smothering the tail end of his crude groan.

The grin that forms on his face beneath your hand is evident of his amusement of his toying with you but it turns sluggish quickly. The sight to see is hot enough, with the drowsy lopsided smirk poking out from underneath your hand as he watches you continue to ride him, now a measured gyrating against his own hips. When he realizes you’ve chosen to keep your hand over his mouth, he reaches up to grab a hold of your wrist, his large fingers splaying out and then up over your knuckles.

“Come on, baby. It’s okay. Let it out,” he hums. He kisses at your fingertips, tongue swiveling around to suck on your digits delicately. “Not even one tiny moan? Let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”

He can feel your thighs begin to shake around him and, judging by the crescendoing of whimpers tumbling from your mouth, he senses you’re close. Your free hand still grips at his hair, this time a little tighter as you try to anchor yourself in place to rock your hips a little faster. Wooyoung hisses delightfully at the feeling, a small lethargic chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest.

Rough hands grab at your waist now, shifting you around abruptly until you’re splayed out on the floor on your back with him hovering over you. His length stays wedged snugly in your walls, never once slipping, and as he settles against your chest, he lifts one of your legs up and over his shoulder. An animalistic growl slips from him at your pinched face, and the way your cunt starts to squeeze around him. With this angle that his hips pound into yours, his cock hits so deep into your core, pummeling against your cervix again and again.

“H-Harder━ Wooyoung━” You pant. “Please━ I’m gonna━”

Finally, a moan sounds from you. Loud and unabashed, a little broken and exhausted, but beautiful to Wooyoung’s ears nonetheless. In fact, it’s so sexy of a noise that it’s enough to nearly push him over the edge but he relents, if only just for a little longer.

“Ah, there’s my favourite sound,” he smirks. His tongue lavs at the underside of your jaw, and your hand finds itself tangled in his hair once more. “Gonna be a good girl and let the boys hear you now?”

You try with all your might to silence yourself, but the task proves more and more difficult. A few more slams of his hips into yours, and you’re crumbling apart right before his eyes.

“Fuck━ Wooyoung━”

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts into your ear. “Cum for me.”

As you come, the sudden gush of wetness around your core coats his length and he almost accidentally slips from your cunt. You’re clenched so tightly around him, Wooyoung feels as if he has to gasp for air to stay focused. His eyes still stay trained on you, watching as your face contorts as you writhe beneath him. But it’s your shameless moaning that sets him off, albeit still softer than usual but much louder than he was expecting from you with the boys so close by.

“Ah━ You’re so fucking hot━” he whines. “Gonna cum━”

Every thrust of his hips sends you bobbing up and down, and as you come down from your high the pleasurable feeling of his hard cock still burrowed in your sensitive walls has you whimpering softly. Your legs try to separate further, beckoning him for more.

“Cum in me, Youngie,” you beckon dazedly. “Wanna feel it so bad━”

“Oh, fuck━” he gasps. “Can I?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You’re so good to me, baby. Aren’t you?”

His pace quickens, hips snapping into yours urgently. One final shuddering thrust and he’s overwhelmed by his orgasm, cock pulsating within your aching walls as his cum fills you up. He has to bury his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his moans, listening to the sharp gasp for air you take when you feel his release.

He rides out his high in a few more leisure rolls of his hips, though he seems more concerned now with kissing your throat slowly. He gently unravels your leg from his shoulder, then slumps against you like the comfortable heavy weight that he is. His dick lays softening still buried within your walls, now leaking with his cum.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” You hear him sigh dreamily into your neck. “‘Cause you are.”

“Almost daily,” You concur with a giggle. Your own fingers smooth out his hair, fixing the messy strands, and he croons with delight. He leaves a trail of sweet kisses up along your throat, then your jaw, and then the corner of your mouth. Safe for the laboured breathing as you both try to calm your shrill hearts, you’re made aware so suddenly of just how quiet the room suddenly is. “There’s no way the guys slept through all of that.”

“I’m sure they did.” Wooyoung nibbles gingerly at your lip. “There’s nothing to worry about. Especially right now. I’m so tired. We can deal with the potential consequences later.”

You snort. “How did I know that’s exactly what you would say?”

You catch him smirking before he plants one last kiss on your lips. Somehow, he’s able to pry himself off of you long enough to slip into his shorts laying discarded on the floor before disappearing outside of the room into the darkened hallway. He returns moments later with a damp towel to help clean up the sticky mess between your legs, then tugs you back onto the bed with him.

“They’ll see you sneaking out of my room if you sleep here,” You point out through a yawn.

“I’ll get up before them,” he insists. “Just give me an hour with you, like this.”

You can’t resist the urge.

At the very least, you fall asleep first in his arms, his fingers playing with your hair. He must slip away from you at some point during the night, unraveling himself carefully from your sleeping figure to retreat to his own room. You’ll tell the boys eventually of your relationship with Wooyoung, you swear.

But for now, there, under the covers of the bed, you have all the time in the world to enjoy yourself with Wooyoung in pure, unadulterated silence.

In the morning when you wake up, you join your boyfriend with the rest of the boys downstairs in the kitchen for breakfast.

You’re the last to arrive, having wanted to take your time in the shower ━ a fact that Wooyoung laments, because he wanted nothing more than to shower with you to “save water” (which really just translates to more sex), but with only two bathrooms and nine people, the feat seemed impossible. Now, you sidle into the seat next to Wooyoung at the kitchen table, smiling down at him when his eyes flicker to you which seems to go unnoticed by the others.

“How was your night?” Yunho asks passively once you’ve settled into place. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod, as Wooyoung answers, “Best sleep of my life.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” This amused offhanded scoff comes from San under his breath. It causes Mingi to almost choke on his sip of orange juice as he snorts into the glass.

“What was that?” Wooyoung asks.

“Oh, nothing,” San says. The smirk on his face says otherwise. “Thought we heard some loud noises last night. It was weird.”

Then there’s Mingi, leaning across the table to catch your attention alone. He shoots you a more merciful look, though he still seems entertained nevertheless when he whispers to you, “You have something on your neck.”

Your hand instinctively clamps onto your throat, over the spot Mingi points to as you mentally curse yourself. While you had been so preoccupied the night before trying not to make any noise, you forgot to warn Wooyoung against leaving any noticeable marks on your body ━ a bad habit of his, and your fatal mistake for forgetting to check the morning after.

The others are fortunately not paying attention, already absorbed in their own conversations, but the horror of so clearly being found out by San and Mingi sends you into a frenzy. It even seems to alarm Wooyoung judging by the way he starts laughing nervously, though maybe that’s because your knee bashes against his under the table and sends him jumping in his seat.

Clearly, you have a lot of explaining to do. Eventually.

The last thing you hear San say before he and Mingi howl with laughter seems to make even the charmingly confident Wooyoung slightly frazzled, and leaves you all the more confused.

“Some romantic getaway, huh?” 

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[ptergwen]

4 times peter loved you and 1 time he said it

warnings: angst, swearing, and flash being a dickwad (love him tho)

a/n: i wasn’t sure if i would ever finish this bc i started in march? and gave up but i really like the concept so i made myself get back into it and AHH i’m really happy with how it turned out! fingers crossed y’all like too ahaha. also this is unrelated but send me requests!

-

to say you and peter were each other’s missing halves would be an absolute understatement. there wasn’t a secret you didn’t share, an inside joke you didn’t have, a text or call left unanswered, or a second you weren’t on the other’s mind.

it had been like that since your first day of freshman year. you took the seat next to peter in first period spanish, and the rest was history.

peter knew you better than you knew yourself. as cheesy as it sounded, it was true. he could guess what you were going to order at a restaurant before you picked up the menu. if you had a bad day, he’d come over to your place with tissues and hugs, without you having to ask. he knew all the little things.

you? you were a peter parker encyclopedia. you watched all his favorite movies so he could rant to you about them, and you’d actually understand what he was saying. whenever he felt overwhelmed by his chaotic life, you found a way to calm him.

you two were soulmates in best friend form.

best friends, nothing more.

♡ 1.

you had an arm around peter’s neck as you picked at some fruit on his lunch tray. his head was resting comfortably against your cheek, whole body leaning on you. impromtu cuddle sessions weren’t unusual for the two of you. they worked in both of your favors. peter was your own personal heater, and you were just really comfortable to nap on, in his opinion.

“are you gonna eat all my grapes? i was looking forward to those,” peter whined, taking one out of your hand. “are you gonna keep using me as a pillow?” you challenged. he responded by moving his head to your shoulder and chewing. “then, yes. i am gonna eat all your grapes.”

“you know what two people who share food are?” ned chimed in from across the cafeteria table. already knowing what he was implying, you sighed. “what, ned?” he cupped his hand over his mouth like he was about to spill the world’s biggest secret. “a couple.”

it wouldn’t be a regular day without ned trying to play matchmaker for you and peter. the idea made peter scoff. “leave us alone, man. that doesn’t even make sense.” “yes it does!” ned nudged mj for backup. she only raised her hands in defense. it was always a hard pass from her on getting involved in these types of things, unless she found a reason to.

“really? how?” you grabbed peter’s milk and took a sip just for the hell of it. he chuckled at that, forgetting he was supposed to be annoyed with you. a bit of milk dripped down your chin in the process. “oops,” you grimaced at yourself and licked it away.

something about the whole thing made peter’s heart clench. it was so... you were so... cute. cute was definitely the word he was looking for. wait, what? that was new. peter had always thought you were pretty and all, but he’d never found himself endeared like this over such a little thing you did. or had he? no. nope. it was ned’s stupid theory messing with him. that was all.

“y/n, dude, everyone knows it’s a thing. like, why else would someone give up their whole lunch? it’s flirting,” ned interrupted peter’s sudden thoughts about your cuteness. the smug look on his face made you want to throw the tray at him.

before you even joined their friend group, ned was on a mission to set the two of you up. peter described you to him and mj as “the actual sweetest girl ever. she makes me laugh a lot. you guys gotta meet her.” mj obviously ‘tsked’ at him, but a light bulb went off in ned’s head. peter was crushing. he just didn’t know it yet.

part of how you and peter got so close was that ned and mj used to back out of group plans. you’d end up hanging out alone most of the time. of course, it was ned’s idea. a successful idea, yes, but neither of you understood the obsession. apparently it was a guy in the chair’s duty to be a good wingman, and you should leave it to him. whatever that meant.

“if i remember correctly, you and your mom went halfsies on a piece of cake at your birthday party last year. what are you trying to tell us, leeds?” mj asked with a smirk. you and peter looked at each other and burst into laughter, ned’s mouth hanging open. the girl could really get someone when she wanted to.

“shut up, you guys! that’s different!” “so is y/n stealing my food and you calling it sharing,” peter made a point of saying more to you than ned. despite his words, he pushed the tray over to you. it was basically yours, anyway.

you thanked him with a pat on his cheek and popped more grapes into your mouth. in that moment, peter decided he’d get you all the grapes in the world if he could. jeez, he seriously needed to reel it in.

ned was only going to keep going now. “see that? peter’s such a sweet boyfriend. isn’t he, y/n?” he cooed and clasped his hands under his chin. you didn’t have the chance to change the topic before flash appeared at your table. he’d probably overheard your conversation. “penis parker is somebody’s boyfriend? good one.”

feeling peter tense up next to you, you put a hand on his shoulder to let him know you were there. you’d been in too many of these situations. the way flash talked to peter pissed you off in ways you didn’t think were possible. he was fine with everybody else, so why did he choose to pick on him? peter was the least deserving person of having to put up with it from anyone.

“just ignore him, okay? he’ll get bored and leave. works every time,” you reminded peter. too uneasy to say anything, he reached back and put his hand on top of yours. he tried to focus on how nice your touch felt instead of the fact that he was about to be humiliated by flash yet again.

“peter could totally get a girlfriend! he has, like, tons of girls after him,” ned attempted to back peter up, pleased with himself. groaning, peter put his head down on the table. he couldn’t bare to watch his friend destroy what was left of his social life. “you’re really pushing this now. stop talking,” mj warned in a whisper yell to ned. that didn’t stop flash from hearing her.

“she’s right. even parker agrees! look at him,” he snickered at peter’s embarrassed state. you’d had more than enough of him at that point. screw the silence. it wasn’t going to cut it for this one. while wingman ned was still making up stories, you tapped peter’s shoulder to find out how he was doing. his head remained down.

“you okay? want me to say something?” “i’m used to it, and no. i don’t wanna make you deal with him.” peter hated putting his issues on other people, but you couldn’t stand another second of listening to the things flash was saying. you cut into an argument between him and ned about peter’s body count. like his was any higher.

“fuck off, flash!” he stopped in the middle of his sentence. “huh?” “i said fuck off. anyone would be so lucky to date peter. you’re probably salty at him all the time because it’ll never be you,” you finally snapped. his tough guy persona faltered for a few seconds at your words, ned and mj taking the opportunity to high five you for telling him off.

peter was glad his head was still down because his cheeks were pinker than he’d like to admit. did you really mean that? would you be lucky to date him, too?

“what are you, president of the parker protection squad? or are you two a thing?” flash quickly recovered. there he went trying to get the last word in. the embarrassment for peter if you denied it was exactly what he wanted, but you weren’t letting him have it.

“ask me again some other time.” you plastered on a shit-eating grin and waved goodbye. unsatisfied with your answer, flash huffed his way back to his own table. after he was gone, peter looked up at you with something you’d never seen before twinkling in his eyes.

“thank you, y/n. you really didn’t have to say all of that.” “oh, no. don’t thank me. i‘d do it for you anytime. i am president of the parker protection squad, after all.” your fake smile turned into a genuine one for him. peter couldn’t help but mirror it.

his was heart doing that thing again. he guessed it was because he loved you so much, but this love felt different somehow. it wasn’t the friend kind of love he’d had for you all those years.

it was the kind of love he saw in the rom coms you made him watch when you got to pick for movie night. cupid’s love was the official name for it. when he put two and two together, the realization smacked him straight in the face. ned was right.

peter was starting to fall in love with you, and there was no way he could stop.

♡ 2.

peter was a workaholic. patrolaholic to be exact, especially when he had a reason. he’d sometimes find himself in a cycle of getting home late and going out early for days on end. he’d gotten used to the sleep deprivation. his grumbling stomach from missing meals wasn’t too big of a deal either. not when he had a city to save.

it was also a good distraction from everything else going on in his life. man, did he need a distraction. after peter came to terms with the fact that he loved loved his best friend, he narrowed it down to two options; telling you about his feelings or taking them to his grave. since the city was so busy, he was thankful he could throw himself into patrolling and not decide just yet.

may would usually only allow peter to patrol on weekends. school existed, and he had to take breaks. peter really wanted to help out more, so he proposed an idea that could potentially let him up it to the full seven days. he had to make it home in one piece every night for a trial week. that would prove to may he could handle it.

ignoring his black eye on tuesday and limp on thursday, it worked out. peter was positive he could finish off the week just fine. may didn’t have the same optimism. she decided that so much as a scratch on friday and it was strike three. friday came, and peter had impressively managed to end the day, like he thought, just fine.

he did one last swing around the neighborhood he was in, then started heading back to queens to gloat to may. on his way, he remembered he had to text you goodnight. he was bound by a pinky swear to you that he would do it every time he finished patrolling.

peter being spider-man was something you figured out only a few months after he got his powers. he technically exposed himself, and you pieced everything together. it all happened when spider-man offered to walk you home from school one day.

the way he rubbed the back of his neck while asking was a nervous habit that was oddly familiar, and urged you to say yes. you also thought it was strange how even though he didn’t ask for your address, he somehow knew where he was taking you. then again, he was spider-man. it was his job to know new york city and the people living in it.

you came to the conclusion you were making things up until he was about to leave. he walked you to the door of your apartment building and said, “stay safe, squirt.” nobody called you that besides peter. he came up with it because he had recently grown a few inches taller and could finally give you hell for being the short one.

needless to say, peter didn’t take off like he was intending to. he realized his slip up as soon as the nickname came out of his mouth. you brought him upstairs and had a long afternoon of questioning, explanations, and making promises.

peter typed out a message telling you he was fine and to go to sleep. as he was about to hit send, he swung too low and smacked his head right into a traffic light. that was what he got for texting while swinging. he could imagine mj giving him one of her famous safety lectures already, but that wasn’t first on his list of worries. he had a throbbing head and may’s third strike to deal with.

crap, may couldn’t know about this. she’d ban him from patrolling probably forever. going home was out of the question, but peter was in desperate need of an ice pack. there was already a bump forming from where the light hit him. his next choice would be to go to happy, only he couldn’t do that because he‘d tell may.

peter’s hands worked faster than his brain, and he started swinging over to your apartment. the overthinking began soon after. nobody wants to deal with a surprise appearance from their possibly concussed friend at 2 a.m. besides, what would he say? he’d barely seen you all week. it wasn’t fair to you, but it was too late to turn back.

peter landed on the sidewalk with an “oof” and crawled up the wall of your building. when he reached your window, he knocked in the same rhythm that he always did. no answer. he knocked louder. no answer again.

seeing as he had no other option, peter had to let himself in. he pushed on your window to see if it was unlocked. thank god it slid up then, but he made a mental note to remind you about keeping it locked another time. he climbed through the window with as little noise as possible so your family wouldn’t hear.

after navigating in the dark, peter pulled off his mask by the side of your bed. he instantly melted at the sight of you. your face was squished into your pillow, hair sprawled everywhere. you’d must have fallen asleep waiting for his text because you were holding your phone. peter was sure he’d never seen something so adorable.

he let himself stand there and watch the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. the bump on his head was no longer a priority. peter was utterly and completely entranced with you. god, why was he acting like this? oh, right. he was secretly in love with you.

before peter could help himself, he brushed some hair that had fallen into your eyes away with his fingers. you squirmed in your sleep, peter pulling his hand back. he was such an idiot sometimes. your eyes fluttered open and landed on him.

“peter? ‘s that you?” you squinted to see in the darkness of your room. he moved closer. your legs dangled over the bed as you slowly sat up. “yeah, it’s me. sorry to wake you.” he went to scratch his head out of nerves, but stopped when he remembered it really freaking hurt right there.

“‘s okay. i was hoping you’d come over soon. missed you all week.” you frowned at the red and blue clad boy in front of you. except for school, you hadn’t seen peter the past few days. “lots of crime to fight lately?” “missed you more, and yeah. been kicking lots of asses.” the awkwardness peter was imaging faded away when he plopped down next to you on your bed.

“how’s your eye doing? and the limp?” you turned his head towards you by his chin. he exhaled in relief. “getting better, i think. now that we’re talking about injuries...” the sleepiness was knocked out of you. you all but leapt to your feet and turned on the lamp by your bed. peter had a feeling you’d slightly freak.

“we’ve been making small talk and you’re hurt? what happened, peter?” “i-i sort of, um, i was texting you and swung into a traffic light.” “oh my god, where?” he pointed at his forehead with a weak smile. surely enough, there was a big bump. you gasped. “please don’t be mad at me.” “i’m not mad at you. just feel bad it was kinda my fault. do you think you have a concussion?”

you weren’t sure what to do beyond the mostly useless first aid videos they played in gym class. being an avenger, peter had had his share of experience with wounds. whenever he came to you hurt, he talked you through how to help him. the most you’d ever dealt with was a few particularly deep cuts. this was not the same.

“i‘m not sure. you could try that finger thing?” he suggested. you crouched down in front of him. “good idea. let’s do that.” as you waved your index finger back and forth and peter’s eyes followed it seemingly well, his mind was elsewhere. he was thinking about crawling into bed with you and sleeping in your arms.

“well, you passed or whatever they say. i’m pretty sure you don’t have a concussion. you’ll heal fast because of... you know.” you stood up and mimicked the way he shoots his webs. peter chuckled quietly. your thumb ran lightly over his bump, making him wince. “how bad does it feel?” “on a scale from one to ten it’s, like, a five and a half.”

although not what you wanted to hear, it was manageable. you hoped so, at least. “i’m gonna go get some stuff. change into comfortable clothes.” “yes, doctor y/n.” peter saluted you. you were happy to see he still felt up to joking around. biting your lip to hold back a smile, you made your way to the kitchen.

peter searched through the spare clothes he’d left here over the years. there were so many, you had to give him a drawer. he changed into pajama pants and a t-shirt, then sat back down criss cross on your bed.

you came in shortly after with a water bottle, two advil, and an ice pack wrapped in a towel. “i was kidding about the whole doctor thing, you know.” “too bad.” you handed him the advil and water. “take these. they’ll help until your magic healing powers kick in.” peter took the pills while you pressed the ice pack to his bump. he took it from you when he was finished.

“is that any better?” “much better. i’m all good. i should probably go soon.” he mumbled, not meaning it but also not wanting to overstay his welcome. you’d already done so much for him. you stopped him from getting up by putting a hand on his chest.

“what? you already changed, and i’m not sending you home to get killed by may. just stay.” “are you sure? i don’t wanna bother you anymore. it was annoying for me to come here so late in the first place.”

a frown set on your face. “peter, don’t you remember my promise?” there was a beat of silence while he thought about it. “that you’d help out with spidey stuff?” “however and whenever i can. i don’t know what made you think differently just now, but nothing’s gonna change that. doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night or early in the morning. i’m always here.”

only you could reassure him just like that. peter was really lucky to have you. really, really lucky.

“right. you’re right. sorry for... whatever that was.” “you apologize too much.” you poked his chest to punctuate your statement and switched the light off. “sorry for that, too,” he teased, wanting a reaction from you. “peter benjamin parker, just get in the bed.” “yes, ma’am.” that was enough before you changed your mind and threw him out.

you rolled to lay on the other side of peter. still pressing the ice pack to his head, he laid down next to you. it didn’t take long for both of you to be settled under the covers. “try not to bang into the wall or something,” you joked and pulled your comforter up to your chin.

peter puffed some air out of his cheeks, tugging more of it back. “you can’t be mean and hog the blanket.” “it’s my bed, so i actually can. i’ll hog everything.”

to prove your point, you moved over to peter until there was no room between you. both of you knew it was an excuse to cuddle. he wasn’t mad about it at all. peter opened an arm for you. you curled into his side, letting him hold you close. his whole body relaxed as you hugged him against you. “goodnight, spidey.” “night, squirt.”

♡ 3.

“what does that cloud look like to you?” you pointed up at the sky. peter’s eyes darted around as he tried to find exactly which one you were talking about. there were a lot of them, in his defense. you made a big circle with your finger around the cloud in question.

“the really curvy one. right there.” “kinda looks like a tiger. can we keep walking now?” peter tugged your arm linked in his in an attempt to move you from the spot you’d randomly stopped in. he made a whiny noise when you didn’t budge.

“i think it looks more like a horse, and no. why are you in such a rush?” furrowing your brows at him, you tightened your grip on his arm. “because some people don’t like cloud watching, grandma.” “i only asked you about one! i’m just... trying to get the most out of today.”

with college around the corner, you and peter both had a lot to do and a little bit of time to get it done. your only hangouts had become some shared extracurriculars and weekly study group with your other friends. trying to binge watch your shows together on facetime hadn’t been easy, for one thing. you fumbled to keep your phone up more than you payed attention.

on a more serious note, being apart sucked majorly. it was going to be this times a million when you would inevitably have to split up in a few months. thinking about it for too long usually made you cry.

peter was struggling in other ways. his more than a friend feelings for you were only getting stronger. having all that love and not being able to give it to you was hurting like hell, and he had to just pack everything up and act normal during the rare moments you were together. you were both going through it.

this was the first sunday in what felt like forever that you and peter were both free. you decided that the nice weather called for a meetup at central park. so, there you were, arm in arm on your afternoon stroll.

“don’t say it like that, y/n. you’re making me sad.” peter let out a breath as you rested your head on his shoulder. “that was the point.” you started walking again, peter following next to you. he kicked at pebbles while you smiled up at him. that made him smile at his feet. you were getting really good at making him flustered.

“so, did you finish that pre calc packet?” peter asked to distract himself. you lifted your head off his shoulder with a groan. “peter, we’re not talking about school for once. let’s talk about literally anything else.” “like what?” you were about to make a suggestion, but something caught your attention.

you raced over to a swingset, dragging peter along with you before he could realize where you were taking him. you stopped in front of it and threw your hands up to present it to him. he let out a breathy laugh. “when was the last time you went on one of these?” you asked, taking peter’s arm again. peter shook his head. “way too long ago.”

with a smile, you walked him over and took a seat on one of the swings. peter sat on the one next to you. you spun around in a circle to see how much you could twist the chains, peter laughing. “y/n, what are you doing?” “having fun. you should try it sometime.” he backed up to get himself started and grabbed his own chains. “i do have fun. it’s just not in the ways you think.”

you untwisted yourself to watch peter. “so, how?” “well,” he started going higher, “i like learning about stuff, even the things we have to in school.” “everybody knows that. that’s the first thing i thought of.” you did know everything possible about him.

everything except his new feelings for you, but this wasn’t the time for him to blurt that out. he was still figuring out when or if he should.

“guess i’m not gonna say i like movies, either.” “singing?” you were swinging next to him, turning it into an unspoken competiton for who could get the highest. peter slowed down a bit since he’d had a head start. “i suck. the only person who’s allowed to hear me is you.”

“it’s possible to suck at something and still enjoy it.” the breeze blew your hair around, peter seeing it from the corner of his eye. he’d always loved how carefree you were around him. it rubbed off.

“remind me to force you to do karaoke one day.” “you’re so annoying.” that motivated you to kick off harder on the ground. peter huffed and tried to catch up to you. “don’t be mean to your only source of fun.” if that wasn’t true, he would’ve came up with a comeback.

the only time peter remembered to relax was when he was with you. it was usually because you reminded him. he skidded to a stop on the swing and looked up at you.

“why’d you let me win? was that too mean?” you looked over your shoulder. “nah, i just got tired.” “oh. we can do something else now. catch me?” “sure,” peter chuckled and got off the swing. he stood in front of you on the grass and waited for you to get lower. you clenched your teeth into a nervous smile.

“ready?” “ready.” swinging towards him, you jumped off and expected to land in his arms. you ended up completely on top of him instead.

the wind was knocked out of both of you, but peter had it worse because he broke your fall. your hands were on his shoulders and one of his was around your lower back. neither of you realized the position you were in. you were too busy trying to breathe again.

“god, that hurt.” “my bad,” peter mumbled. in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t be complaining about this. “i should’ve warned you or something,” you dismissed him.

you were still hovering over peter, your lips dangerously close to his. he could’ve sworn they almost touched. that was when you got off of him. he only forced out a laugh. nothing ever went his way. you offered him a hand, oblivious to his inner conflict. peter took it and pulled himself up, falling into step next to you as you headed to another path.

that could’ve been a chance to make some sort of move, and he blew it.

♡ 4.

it hadn’t been easy for peter to move on from that day. his mind kept replaying the split second you almost kissed on an endless loop, and all he could do was come up with what he should’ve done in the moment.

things were getting to a point where he had no clue how to act around you. being your friend was hard, but becoming your boyfriend would be that much harder. his stupid feelings put him in an awkward place, and he was afraid you were starting to realize. he couldn’t lose you altogether.

you asked peter to meet you for coffee after school. it was this small place in between your apartments you’d both been to once before. they had really good cookies and an overall cozy feeling you liked. peter wasn’t sure what this was all about.

were you going to confront him? did ned say something? maybe it was a mistake to confide in his most gossipy friend about how he felt.

with a headache from stress and a heavy backpack hanging off his shoulders, peter walked into the café. he spotted you at a table near the window. you’d already taken the liberty of ordering, two drinks and a chocolate chip cookie waiting there. you looked up from your phone when peter pulled a chair out.

“hi.” you gave him a small smile and put your phone down. “i already got everything.” peter shrugged off his backpack with a grin. he sat down facing you. “thanks. sorry i’m kinda late. i had to stop at my locker.” you usually met him there. come to think of it, why hadn’t you today? you pushed peter’s drink over to him. “you’re fine. i came here early to get us a table, anyway.” phew.

peter bent the straw to his iced macchiato and took a sip. it made him feel grown up, casually drinking coffee with you over a boring conversation. adult life must’ve sucked. “so, how was the rest of your day?” he asked to fill the silence. you only had two classes without him after lunch, so that was a dumb question. he’d never had so much trouble talking to you.

“eh. betty fell asleep on me during this cold war documentary we had to watch.” “didn’t she say american history is her favorite?” you broke off a piece of the cookie with a laugh. “not after that. what about your day?” the light from the window was shining directly on you, blocking out everything else from peter’s view. he wanted to tell you how beautiful you were so bad, but that would be creepy.

you took a bite of your cookie and raised an eyebrow. he was staring. “uh, nothing interesting. i’m gonna patrol a little bit later.” peter sipped his drink again. you clicked your tongue and let out a breath. “that’s all you do these days.” he knew you were catching on to how off he’d been. what was he supposed to say? it would’ve helped if he’d prepared a few excuses.

“just trying to help out while i’m still here.” that was a half truth. “yeah, but you should still take some time for yourself.” you ripped open your straw wrapper and blew it at peter. he caught it just before it hit his face. rolling your eyes, you put the straw into your drink. “i hate your reflexes sometimes.” he shrugged one of his shoulders casually. “jealousy is a disease.”

neither of you said anything for a few minutes. you stared out the window while peter finished the rest of the cookie. he could tell something was on your mind. whenever you were deep in your thoughts, you sort of zoned out like this.

he was too nervous to ask you what was wrong because of the conversation you just had. it sounded like you had already considered he was being distant before today. his feelings aside, he needed to reassure you. that was more important.

“y/n?” you turned your head to look at him. “yeah?” peter’s gaze shifted from you to his thumbs twiddling in his lap. “i know we’ve both been really... busy lately, but i’m still here. don’t forget that.” a hint of a smile played on your lips. you would’ve hugged him if you could reach. “thank you, peter. i kinda needed to hear that.” he nudged your leg under the table. “of course. hey, you wanna come with me tonight?”

a couple of hours later, you were in peter’s arms on a rooftop that was much higher up than it looked. he insisted on taking you for a swing so you could get the full experience. he’d been trying to get you to do this for the longest time, so he wondered what made you agree today. you wanted to find out what was so enjoyable about it.

“i trust you, but you’re not gonna drop me, right?” your legs were around his waist, and he had one hand supporting you by your back. that wasn’t terrifying at all. you grabbed peter’s shoulders, the idea of it making you nervous. he wrapped his arm tighter around you.

“oh my god, no. i can always web you back up.” “peter! that’s not funny.” even behind the mask, you could tell he was smirking. “you’re always safe with me, squirt. don’t worry.” you brought your arms up to loop around his neck.

“i feel better now.” “good. i’m gonna jump when we get to the edge, okay?“ your whole body stiffened up. peter could sense it. as excited as he was to share this with you, he didn’t want to make you feel pressured. “or we don’t have to do it.” his voice was quiet. you tried to relax in his hold. “i’m just gonna close my eyes. i think that’ll help.” “we’re about to find out.”

peter started walking towards the edge of the building with you holding on even tighter to him, your eyes squeezed shut. he kept finding himself in situations where he was close to you in the ways he’d been wishing for, but never for the same reasons. it was bittersweet.

he bit down on his lip and aimed his free hand at a building. you squealed when he leaned back. “i’m jumping now,” he prepared you, and before you could respond, you were in the air. you hid your face in peter’s chest the second you felt yourself pretty much flying.

“what the fuck, you like this?” you had to yell so he could hear you. peter shot another web to keep swinging. “it’s really not that bad! try looking up!” he shouted back, clearly amused.

grip tightening around his neck, you slowly pulled your face away from him. he kept you close as he swung. you somehow convinced yourself you weren’t going to die by looking at something besides peter. your eyes landed on the sky behind his head.

the sun was almost completely set, deep pink and orange merging together against the glowing lights of the city. you were finally understanding why he liked this so much. it was beautiful.

peter peeked at you for a second to check on you. he swore his heart was going to explode out of his chest. the look of adoration on your face, it was even better than the view. it was the view. the little moments where peter got to see you this way made him realize how in love with you he really was.

“this is... wow. i get it now,” you laughed in disbelief, watching as the city whirled past you. peter smiled so big it hurt. “pretty awesome, huh?” one of your hands slid back down to his shoulder. “take me with you more often.”

♡ 5.

peter licked his lips out of habit as he held the door open for may, who was following behind him with a look of pride. he was about to graduate high school. the ceremony was being held in a really nice stadium-like place. trying to find it added minutes on to the parker tradition of being late to everything important.

peter wasn’t as concerned with his tardiness as he was with finding you.

while he tossed and turned in bed the night before, he went over his whole school year in his head. that meant little things and big things. he was starting to drift off until he remembered a conversation with ned a few weeks back. they decided on a deadline for peter to tell you about his feelings, and it was before graduation.

they chose it because if peter got rejected, he’d be over it by the time college started. that was the goal.

it wasn’t that peter had changed his mind. it was that he completely forgot. he didn’t have a solid plan for what he should do. these things needed to be decided way in advance. he ended up pulling something together last minute because it was you. plus, this extra pressure gave him the push to go through with it. somewhere between steps seven and eight, he passed out.

may rushed him to get ready because he’d slept past his alarm. the whole morning was a mess, and he had at most fifteen minutes to confess his love to you by the time he got there.

“you should go make sure you’re marked here. i’ll see you after. love you.” may pressed a kiss to his cheek and half-jogged to the auditorium for a seat. he squeezed her arm and headed off to check in. your whole grade was already lined up along the walls for what looked like miles. the deal was to tell you before graduation. he still had about ten minutes.

peter walked past hundreds of students with his heartbeat thumping in his ears. everyone was in alphabetical order, so it didn’t take too long to find you. relief washed over you when you saw peter. you were worried he wouldn’t show up at all. his cap was in his hand, hair getting tangled from running his fingers through it. he looked at you with pleading eyes.

“finally, i’ve been trying to call you all morning. where were you?” your tone was dripping with concern. “i overslept. there’s something i gotta tell you, y/n.” he gulped. you smiled in a way that was kind of pitying. “we’re about to start going inside. i- you have to wait, pete. go get lined up.”

this wasn’t how it was going to end. not again.

he looked around to see who was watching, then he grabbed your wrist. “peter, what are you-“ “just come with me really quick.” despite yourself, you let him lead you down the hallway. you dodged a couple of teachers having a conversation and went into a bathroom that was vacant by some chance. he let go of you after the door shut. you stood behind it while he walked over to a sink.

it was making you anxious to not be out there. you could be late. peter was the same way when it came to school, so you knew this had to be pretty serious. you gave up the battle with yourself and made your way over to him. he was looking at himself in the mirror, trying to get a stray curl back in place.

“let me help.” you stood next to him. he turned to face you, that same look of urgency still in his eyes. you used two fingers to brush through his hair. there was so much gel that it was wet enough to mess with. you smiled a bit and took your hand out of his hair. his hand was gripping the sink.

“you look good, pete. you smell good, too.” “so do you.” his voice was lower than usual. you flattened out the material of your blue gown. “thanks. so, talk to me. what’s up?”

the question was so simple, but way too many answers were running through peter’s brain. he wasn’t even sure he’d have enough time to explain everything now. this was why he needed a written out and carefully crafted plan.

but, like he said to himself last night, this was you. his best friend in the entire world and any other that might exist. the person who’s been there for his most embarrassing moments, and who’s been responsible for some of his best ones. if he couldn’t finally say the three words he’d said to you so many times before, what was the point?

his fingers drummed a steady rhythm while he mustered up the last remaining bit of courage in him. you watched him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. “just, um...” he was stalling. he pulled his hand off the sink. “i... love you.” peter only glanced at you for a second, too afraid to see your reaction. “i love you, too. is everything okay?” his heart sank. you thought he meant it in the friend way.

that was what he got for being so terrible with words.

“no, y/n. not like that.” he blurted. you were lost. peter pressed his back against the wall and sat down. confused and equally worried, you sat next to him on the floor. “then what do you mean? you’re scaring me.” he checked the watch may made him wear to see how much time was left before graduation. four minutes. he really should’ve woken up on time.

“we have to get back in line soon. i don’t wanna miss-“ “i love you, y/n. i’m in love with you.” a weight that had been on peter’s chest for months was lifted just by saying it. you squinted your eyes at him, but said nothing.

“i’ve been trying to tell you for a while, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. i just had to say it.” “fuck, are you serious?” you sounded what peter could only describe as disappointed. yeah, it was unrequited. here came a summer of crying. “i was gonna tell you first.”

peter’s breath hitched in his throat, and he swore you could hear it. he was so sleep deprived that it felt like he was hallucinating. you shook your head as heat came to your cheeks.

“how long have you...” peter trailed off, an eye crinkling smile interrupting him. “that day we went for coffee. something clicked, so i thought for a while and figured it out. i think i’ve loved you for a really long time.”

you inched closer to peter, just barely resting your head on his shoulder. for once, you felt like the shy one. he put his hand on top of yours. his thumb traced over each of your fingers. “i’d ask you out, but you know. we don’t really have time.”

“peter, it won’t take that long.” you giggled. he squeezed your hand in his. “hm. y/n, would you wanna go out with me after this?” you thought about teasing him for it, but he was right. you had to go. that was the friend still in you. “i’d love to go out with you, peter.”

with that, you both jumped to your feet and ran out of the bathroom. you were still holding hands, and a few classmates made faces when you rushed past them to get to your spots. you exchanged one last smile with peter before lining up.

the person in front of you said everybody was looking for you two. honestly, you didn’t care all that much. you were too excited for your date later. peter already knew he’d be checking his watch throughout the whole ceremony.

it was a best friend and soulmate thing.

[sorenskyhigh]

Pets They Would Have pt. 2

Karasuno

Hisashi Kinoshita

Hisashi is a Train Company Employee. This means he works a lot of hours and just does not have the time to take care of, love and train any other pets

Fish are a really easy to take care of

All you have to do is remember to feed them and have a water filter to constantly clean their aquarium

Some fish, if handled when young, can get big and will let and love for you to pet them

But, they also are just very nice to have

Just to watch them swim around all of the plants with the light on at night

As I said, they don't need alot either

Hisashi could just let them be

They wouldn't beg or need constant love and attention like a mammal (dog, cat, rat, bird)

They also don't need constant vigilance for health issues or specialized diets like amphibian and reptilian pets

Hisashi is going to be tired when he gets home from work, so he needs a pet that is more ornamental than a chore

I feel if Hisashi were to have fish, he'd get the weirdest ones in the pet store

Hisashi seems to have a very strong inner child

So he would want either the flashiest fish, or the ones that cause a double take everytime their passed by in the store

He may get only one or two or get a whole tank full

I honestly feel like it could go one of two ways:

A- He has an aquarium for a wall in his house filled with his wild choice in fish or

B- He has a small, round, spherical bowl with two fish in it

It'd be funny if he had just the two fish to start with then they had babies even though the worker said they were both female

Obviously they weren't

They laid eggs and he had to transfer the female and daughters to one large tank and the father and sons to another so they wouldn't keep having babies

After this he has like 14 fish in total

Then he keeps finding himself at the pet store looking at the "ugly" fish no one wants

He buys these fish and ends up having two tanks that cover a whole wall

One's for his male fish the others for the females

But he screws up and learns the hard way that clownfush can change genders to help make babies

I'm being terrible to this poor guy let me stop

He so would be that fish owner to get real plants and "not those toxic plastic ones, how do they not hurt the fish???"

I honestly love the thought of Kinoshita just spacing out in front of his fish as he just watches them swim and do their own thing

Or if he were to only have a couple fish and he lets them get really big and pets them

Kazuhito Narita

Now, I know what you're thinking

Aren't Ferrets incredibly high maintenance?

Not really

Kazu ends up working at a Realty Firm

Generally their work hours are supposed to be around 40 hrs a week

But they often have to stay longer considering most clients can only meet up on weekday afternoons

So this means Kazu has to work a lot

Ferrets may be mischievous and a little destructive, but that's easy to fix

If a ferret is to be left at home alone for hours at a time, just get it a really big cage and tons of toys to play with

Plenty of food and water too, of course

But ferrets are honestly pretty chill

All they need is for you to clean out their cage around once a week, some light grooming here and there, and some time to run around

Apartment or house doesn't matter with ferrets

They love to just mess around and only need a couple hours of free time a day

They sleep most of the day, 17 to 20 hours usually

They also aren't very vocal

They have a specific noise they make when excited thats barely heard by most human ears

Fun fact about ferrets is they actually have pretty poor eyesight, but their sense of smell and hearing more than make up for it

The only real problems Kazu would have to worry about are hairballs getting lodged and dental issues, no different than a cat

I didn't pick a cat though bc, Kazu seems like the kind of person to have something that doesn't get riled up on a whim like a cat

Cats often have unpredictable moods, ferrets on the other hand can be energetic but won't get into a bad mood at the drop of a pin

They're generally very fun loving

Though, it is always recommended to get a pair

Ferrets are highly social animals, so they would need a buddy for when your not able to be there for them

Kazu would probably get one almost all white ferret and one almost all dark brown ferret for the symbolism

I love the thought of Kazu wrestling with one ferret, it wrapped around his hand, and then the other one if climbing on his back and sliding down the back of his shirt in playful retaliation

Tobio Kageyama

I really really wanted to give Tobio a turtle, but with him being a volleyball player in his adult life, that just won't work

Turtles need very specific temperatures and surroundings so they can live happily and healthily

I honestly feel in terms of personality, nothing but a cute little Eastern Box Turtle would fit him perfectly

I honestly struggled to find something that, to me, fit Kageyama Tobio but also would be manageable for him as a pro athlete

He's a very complex character and something with fur or feather just did not seem to suit him to me

The only problem is.......reptiles and amphibians are generally really demanding pets

From the food they eat, the the temperature their home has to be set at, its a lot of constant care

Some of them may not like constant physical touch, but they still need to be cleaned and have a constant watchful eye to check for any skin abnormalities

I decided on the African Fire Skink after much much MUCH consideration

These lizards don't get large, onky around 14-15 inches

And, unlike many reptilian nd amphibian pets, they don't require any specific heating or lighting

As long as your house isn't like consistently hot or cold or constantly changing between the two, their fine

They do need a substantial amount of dirt to dig and hide in

They mostly eat insects and one very rare occasion would appreciate a pinky mouse

These lizards are also shy and like to be admired from a distance

They don't like to be touched too much

They also have few and far between health problems uike other lizards

The only real problem is you can't find them at local pet stores but, they generally sell for around 25-70 USD

They also live for around 15-20 years

I feel like Tobio would have gotten his lizard as a middle schooler bc he didn't have very many friends, but he also didn't want a really needy pet since he doesn't know how to socialize well

Since this lizard like to be left alone, he could admire it from afar and this lizard could help him learn how to social better

Sorta.....

Imagine Tobio at a table in his room, doing some homework and the little Skink is just lazing about in a sunspot next to him 😍

Shoyo Hinata

YES YOU ARE SEEING CORRECTLY

At first for Shoyo I thought, okay maybe a hamster or a Guinea Pig or something like that

Ya know, something small but mighty and also, incredibly cute!

But I took a look at a list of pets that travel well and one of pets that can be left at howm for days with a proper care taker

I nearly shot myself bc I totally forgot that Hermit Crabs can be pets!!!!!

And they suit Shoyo so well!!!

They are small and sturdy

They fight back and pinch when threatened but can be very nice little pets to have

Hermit Crabs also love, sadly, for only around 10 years and can grow up to 6 inches long

Also, three to five shells per crab should be available

I am living for the idea that Hinata bought a bunch of shells for his crabs and painted them with little volleyballs and crows and ornage and black 🥺

These are good bc as long as you have someone reliable to feed them when they need to be while you're gone

Usually, if they're small, they're tiny wittle claws can't grab onto pellet food, so heir is a specific kind of almost dust like food for Hermit Crabs

Also, dark leafy greens like kale and broccoli or fruits like apples, bananas, and grapes are good too

Just choo them up really really tiny

They also need 2-3 inches of soil, silica play sand, and (optional) coconut fibers for them to burrow in when they molt

They also need a place for water to keep their little shells moist

They also need specific temps and maybe even mist their terrarium with water now and again

Something that us important and why Shoyi would need someone to come in and check on them is bc they are every vulnerable when molting

When a Hermit Crab molts they need to be separated from others so they don't get hurt

Like with many smaller pets you also have to thoroughly wash your hands before and after you touch them

Shoyo would fight Tobio when Tobio said his Crabs are boring and go into a long detailed argument about how each Crab has his/her own personality and how interesting they are

Kei Tsukishima

Did you expect this Dino loving nerd to have anything else other than a reptile?

I tried to find one, as you can imagine, that would fit his adult life schedule but also his personality

I really wanted to give him an Iguana or Chameleon butbthey were really demanding with care

Now.....I know

Anole are native to the Southern US and Southern Hispanic countries such as Mexico, Clolombua, and Venezuela

They are around 20cm long and only live a very short 3-5 years

Also if you own many most should be female and only one should be male if you choose to have any males at all

The males get very territorial and will fight one another

Also the males flair our their dewlaps (skin flap under their chin) in defense and when they feel threatened

The dewlaps are usually pink, red, or on the rare occasion blue

Females have these as well but don't flair them out as much

Anoles are very high energy but don't care to be touched too much

These lizards also can't be picked up by their tales as they have evolved to lose their tales and grow them back

Kei would like these as they are so odd

They're not only descendants of Dinosaurs but they can lose their tales and grow them back at will???

I feel like Kei would constant have new ones

His massive tank (you need big ones for these guys, they are very active and will resort to cannibalism if their space is too small) is never empty, always at least three

He has analbum on his phone of all of the Anoles he's owned and maybe even has a picture book with their names on it

Yamaguchi to this day is the o ky one that has had the privilege to see said book

Yamaguchi is also the only person Kei trusts to take care of his precious Anoles

And when one dies he has really small but none the less grand ceremony for a descendant of the mighty race of Dinosaurs

Yamaguchi always helps him set these up

I fell like he would give them really weird names as well

Like twig, stick, sock, glove, kneecap or some weird shit idk

I'll have Yamaguchi, Yachi, Yui, Natsu, and Saeko in the next one

My requests are open and I hope you enjoyed

@popcorntime-doodles @multifandombrainrot @kneecapstealingalien @jiheonity @weareallhumans123 @smallmangi @canadian-crow @just-jellyfish @immiamarais @i-need-coffee-now-pls @shadowsbutdead @ghostexhibit @goshikisimp @anothershadeofpink @mestayanon @all-around-fandoms31 @thatfunnysprout @itsallgonnabokayihope @g00s3 @boreateo @backalley-astrologer @vaniatslover @lil-mellow-bunbun @strawberrymakki @beelziee @taiyahhh @sakusasgerm @cr4z3d-cl0wn @brendanfkelley @mainnews32 @beelshumanworldburger @mehreenackerman @detective-bakugou

[vaguewriting]

solangelo grey’s anatomy au

this planning is incomprehensible so good luck

nico is an intern and will is the trauma attending and nico is basically like the cristina to wills burke but also slightly meredith/derek in the sense that theyre Made For Each Other

nico craves power and thrives to be the best trauma surgeon ever and kinda sleeps with will to get ahead but soon realizes that hes In Love with will and so instead of sneaking around sleeping with him they get,,, a relationship?? which is wild for nico but will is all for it bc now he gets to make nico flustered in public

and now for all that useless backstory i always get so maria and hades were both great surgeons until maria died and hades just kinda,, stopped but nico still spent most of his childhood in a hospital and bianca became a surgeon around the time that nico graduated high school (so big age difference) and then died in some accident before nico graduated med school so at least now everyone remembers the name di angelo bc bia was p great too so they have high expectations for nico bc of his family and also hazel shows up eventually (like lexie) and shes also a surgeon ((wills backstory is that hes a southern boy raised by his mom and abandoned by his dad who was also a surgeon and probably couldve gotten will into a better school and a better hospital at the start but will wanted to pave his own way and changed his name to solace so that there was no connection to his dad))

nico and leo and other interns are eating lunch and theyre talking about what they saw that day and what attendings they were with and somehow it gets to like “”claiming”” which attending is theirs like theyre claiming specialties and somebody mentions percy and nicos like peds is a challenge and man is he hot but i think chase already beat us to him and someone else says zhang and nicos like “ortho?? u can have him” and so leos like “fine who do you want then” and nico says “solace” with no elaboration until they push him and he says that solace is soft and easily manipulated and screwing him would be the easy way to get extra lessons or w.e plus hes hot and definitely not 100% straight,, and theyre all like “yeah whatever nobodys actually gonna sleep with anybody we’re just picking specialties whats wrong with you” so nicos like fine u wanna bet? ill ask him out by the end of the week

nicos sitting at the bar across the street and will comes up to him and asks if he can buy nico a drink (shot of tequila) and nicos like “but youre my attending” and wills like “its one drink” and this is where nico gets manipulative and will mentions that hes noticed nico watching him all week and will’s requested that nico be on his service soon so that he can watch a lot closer and all the flirting leads to them sleeping together and driving to work together the next morning despite the fact that nico has to be there so much earlier than will for rounds and when nicos changing into his scrubs somebody points out the hickey on his chest and nicos like “oh yeah i slept with solace last night,, he even requested i be on his service so wheels are in motion and i’ll leave you all in my dust in no time” and then he leaves for rounds

will brings nico coffees and kisses his cheek all the time and they eat lunch together sometimes when nico isnt eating with the other interns and its all seeming much less manipulatey and a whole lot more datey so they call nico out on it but he waves them off bc no way he doesnt actually like will hes just trying to get ahead and did he mention that he got to close on will’s surgery today? until will drags nico into an on call room one day and hugs him and kisses him and talks about losing a patient and nico realizes that wills not defenselessly soft but actually still pretty tough and wills like “ok theres no use crying over this more lets go to the skills lab and ill show u what i did bc im still ur teacher too right” 

wills sitting around in the attendings lounge with frank and percy and reyna and theyre picking on will for dating an intern bc nicos obviously just using him for extra lessons or w.e and wills like “no hes not” and theyre all like uhhh yeah he is?? And wills like “well what about annabeth?? dont yall think shes using percy for stuff??” and frank and reyna laugh but percy doesnt get it and reynas like “i was talking to him yesterday and when i asked him about you he talked strictly about the medicine and nothing about you” and percy says “yeah annabeth heard him talking to the other interns about how much he was getting out of your relationship” and will gets pouty and hes like “no way yall just misheard him or something that can’t be right” and frank is like “stop offering him extra lessons and see if he sticks around” and wills like “i dont like this conversation anymore”  but he doesnt bring it up to nico

will ends up ignoring nico for a few days and feels terrible about it and one day he sees nico sitting with his head in his hands so will calls out to him and nico stands up and immediately passes out and will flips out (nicos appendix burst) and nico gets rushed into surgery and will’s at his bedside when he wakes up

nicos pretty out of it and pumped full of pain medicine and nico tells will that he has to tell him something and says that he was manipulating will bc hes soft but he doesnt want to manipulate will anymore bc he likes will like, a lot bc hes pretty and funny and nice and soft but not soft in a bad way,, and will just tells him to sleep and he’ll be there when nico wakes up and then when nico wakes up for real will kisses him says “so i hear you’ve been manipulating me for extra lessons” and nicos like “uhh idk what youre talking about” and wills like “i caught on but dont worry im not mad bc i know you how u really feel” and will lets nico suffer for a second before he smiles and tells nico what he said to will before and nicos like “youre a jerk” and wills like “a jerk you like” 

flash to the future and nicos in his kitchen in his pajama pants and hes standing at the island with a suture kit practicing on bananas or something and will comes up behind him and wraps his arms around nico and asks whats going on and nico says hes practicing for his solo surgery but he cant get this one stitch right and will should help him and wills like “or i could help you relax a little bit” and starts kissing nicos neck and shoulder and nicos like “cmon i have to practice” and wills like “call this practice working with distractions” and nicos like “i dont think these are the kinds of distractions i’ll be facing”

[klaushargreevesofficial]

call my bluff, call you “babe”

steve harrington x robin’s best friend!reader

requests: heeey could you write steve harrington x fem! reader where she is robin’s best friend and she had a crush on steve during high school but he never notified her but one day she went visiting robin during her work and steve falls in love with at first sight (like she has a different personality from robin, she has like a bubbly personality) ijkohghjjkk thank you so much !!

Steve falling for robin’s best friend and her being skeptical bc she liked Steve in high school

title from taylor swift’s “it’s nice to have a friend”

word count: 4,381 (!!)

warning for cursing because i have the vocabulary of a 12 year old boy

“so you don’t care about me, is what I'm hearing.”

“god, you’re dramatic, y/n,” robin laughed, trying to pull on her shoes while navigating around her room. she was failing to maintain her balance, and every clumsy hop around her room served as punctuation of your premature loneliness. Robin was heading to work, an early morning after your late night sleepover. curled up to your ears in her sheets, your eyes followed her around the room. 

“I can't believe you’re leaving me to go hang out with steve harrington.” you punctuated your statement with a faux gag. Robin replied with a noncommittal hum and leveled her eyes with yours, serving to agitate you more. 

“I'm not hanging out with him. I'm trying to make money so I can afford all of the expensive candy you like for movie nights.” finally dressed and ready for work, robin sat on the edge of her bed. “and you,” she poked your head, “would like him, he’s not that bad anymore! annoying? yes! but an asshole? not at all.” 

listening to her lift steve up made you uneasy. all through high school, steve had been your dream boy. hadn’t he been everyone’s? with the hair, the eyes, the swagger in his step as he walked past you in the hallway...you just about died thinking about it. how embarrassing, you thought. having a crush on steve, the untouchable asshole of your formative years, was about as out of character and cringey as you could have gotten. he never spoke a word to you except to ask to copy off of your homework, and even then, he called you by the wrong name. but god, that boy was pretty. 

after graduation, you did your best to avoid steve at all costs. not that he would notice or care, but rather for your sake. it was embarrassing to recall the amount of times you had imagined him choosing staying at your house over a party, or fantasized about running your fingers through his hair. it was your character flaw that you decided to ignore and actively suppress. steve was an asshole, and you recognized that. thus, the active forgetting of steve harrington.

 the plan to gradually forget about your schoolgirl feelings for steve had been working, working really well. you’d stopped obsessing over that one time he had accidentally bumped your shoulder in the hallway (and walked away without apologizing, thank you very much), and you couldn’t even remember what color his eyes were. then robin sauntered into your house with her spare key and an unperturbed way about her, proclaiming she landed the mall job and “y/n, you’d never believe who my co-worker is.” and then the humiliation that came with liking steve came rushing back.

 did you resent steve? not at all. but at certain points, when you were at your lowest, you wished he could feel as lowly and unimportant as him and his adolescent goons had made you feel. sometimes, though you would never admit it, you wished steve harrington would pine after you, simply so you could brush him off and crush his pretty boy heart as he had crushed yours in high school. but thoughts like that made you feel bad, and were definitely not feasible. the only time nowadays that you had a vague hatred towards steve was when robin went to work. screw him for winning over your best friend too. 

“go to work, buckley. when you come home, i’ll be here, in this spot, borderline comatose. wake me up then.” you turned to your side and closed your eyes.

“maybe you could come see me at work, y/n! i’m sure my parents would much prefer that, rather than you lounging in my house all day.”

 “mmm, they love me,” you replied, already slipping back into a half-asleep state.

 ------------------------

“y/n!” robin exclaimed. “wait, is that my shirt?” you stalked into scoops ahoy, dark circles under your eyes. you had awoken after another 3 hours of sleep, and after 30 another minutes of being alone in robin’s house, you decided to finally bite the bullet and visit her at work. there was no motivation besides boredom, loneliness, and the hope that robin’s offers of free ice cream when trying to coax you to come still stood. 

“i’m exhausted. can i get a vanilla cone?”

 “i don’t see you opening your wallet to pay, y/n,” she said, her motions towards the freezer contradicting her words. she scooped a cone for you and one for herself, and you guys chuckled at how quick robin was to shell out ice cream that would probably come from her paycheck. leaning against the counter, you reveled in the silence that settled as you ate your ice cream. you cherished these moments with robin, where you guys could just enjoy each other’s presence, words unnecessary. for as much as the two of you talked, they didn’t occur often, but when they did, they were peaceful. 

robin and you both were enjoying the serenity of the moment, and then there was steve. loud, doors swinging, calling (or shouting, rather) for robin. instantly, you were on edge, and robin sensed it. she was aware of your past feelings towards steve, but unaware of how vast and intensely they spread. she was there when you’d comment quietly to her how nice he looked in his jeans, but absent for the doodling of “harrington” in hearts on the margins of your papers. 

seeing steve was a gust of wind in your hair and a suckerpunch to your gut, simultaneously. rigid, ice cream dripping down your hand, you turned to robin, who, despite being engaged in a conversation with steve about their break schedules, was subtly keeping an eye on you, making sure you were okay. “uh, robin?” both heads turned towards you, the first time steve had acknowledged you. the “ahoy” on their sailor hats was so aggressively there and ugly, it only served to make you more anxious. 

“is this…?” steve gave robin a look as if to communicate something to her, something secret, and you knew immediately what---or who, rather---he was referencing. stacey.  he thought you were stacey. stacey was robin’s beau, who you had listened robin talk about, cry about, gush about, for weeks. you felt blessed, as robin’s best friend, to be able to coach her through her first relationship, which you understood must be extra difficult as a closeted gay woman. robin never had any shortage of stacey related topics to talk about, and you were glad to serve as a sounding board. you’d always just assumed you were the only one robin could bounce her thoughts off of, especially because of her sexuality.

 steve thought you were stacey. which means...steve knew robin’s best kept secret. of course steve knew. robin had been preaching about how great and un-assholey he’d become since graduation, something that would only be tested and tried by robin’s candid confession of who she loved. you felt stupid for not having figured it out earlier. steve knew.

 “no, harrington,” you piped up, finally regaining your ability to speak for the first time since steve had kicked open the door to the Scoops backroom. “my name’s y/n, and we actually went to high school together. i’d say i’m surprised you don’t remember me, but you were an asshole back then, so….” you let your voice trail off, expecting a snarky remark back from the boy in front of you. steve knew. 

the only person behind the counter to pipe up was robin. “steve, this is y/n, my best friend, who is acting, surprisingly, much like one of those assholes she constantly proclaims to hate.” although she was addressing steve, her eyes were locked with yours. there was a jovial tone to her voice, she was clearly not upset with you, but you tilted your chin out in defiance, and tossed the remainder of the ice cream cone away. steve knew. he was quiet. “y/n,” robin began, her voice calm, “i’ll meet you at the Gap on my break. 2:45. go cool off, please?” you took a peek at your casio calculator watch. you had 45 minutes to kill. you gave her a curt nod, and completely disregarded silent steve as you walked out of the ice cream parlor. what had just happened? 

no, you didn’t mean to completely be a dick. it was hard to dissect your feelings. it certainly wasn’t fair for you to be upset that robin told steve her secret. you were proud she felt safe enough to share that important part of herself with him. if anything, you were more upset that of all the people in Hawkins, she chose your self-proclaimed, one-sided enemy.  but still, unfair. and...you sighed. steve hadn’t even said anything to you. could you blame him? he didn’t remember you, y/n, get over it, you thought. how long were you going to let your internal struggle with steve dictate your actions? especially now that there was a chance at a...mutual friendship of sorts, through robin. had you not fucked that up by the scene you’d just caused.

 seeing steve dredged up a lot of negative emotions, you realized. it was embarrassing, especially because everything you and steve “had” was fabricated in your brain. one sided, imaginary, call it what you want. and yet, here you were, harboring real, genuine hurt. at what point does an adult let go of these childish fantasies and quit playing the victim? had you only hurt steve’s feelings (which you weren’t entirely sure you did, seeing as he was just so quiet), maybe you wouldn’t have had the mindset shift, but you could tell robin was upset with your petulant behavior. and quite frankly, you were tired of holding on to high school. you turned on your heel, chuck taylors squeaking against the shiny mall floor, and walked back to scoops ahoy.

 the parlor was empty. no one lounging at the tables, cheerily eating a sundae. you assumed this was why steve and robin were huddled in the back room, having a hushed conversation that you could only hear remnants of. you chose to ignore steve yet again, but this time simply to give you the guts to ring the service bell repeatedly. if you pretended only robin could answer, it was easier to be annoying. she was used to you. so, with a heavy hand, you rang the bell. ding. ding. ding. ding. as you poised to ring it once more, steve opened the backroom door, scooper in hand.

 he let out a breath of what you marked as relief. maybe he’s just glad you wouldn’t actually be ordering ice cream, you thought, until he said, “i was hoping it was you.” 

“oh?” you spluttered, forgetting your whole purpose for returning to the ice cream shoppe. 

“yeah, y/n, i just,” he sighed as if to organize his thoughts. “you were right when you said that i didn’t remember you from high school because i was a pompous dick.” 

“i didn’t say those words!” you defended, then gestured for him to continue. 

“well, you might as well have. i just wanted to apologize, because i really sucked back then. i’m working on it.”

 were you ever expecting an apology from steve? no. maybe a few months ago you would have revelled in this, would have eaten it up and made him beg for forgiveness. but at this point, you had changed, and you felt that he didn’t even have to apologize. well, for much, at least.

 “you’re good, steve. i’m sorry for caring so much about social hierarchy. it probably isn’t even fair for you to apologize to me.” you shrugged.

steve leaned his elbows on the counter, next to the register, and thought for a moment. “fairness is subjective though, isn’t it? like, what’s fair to you might not be fair to me, or vice versa.” 

--------------

after you and steve had apologized to each other in the parlor of Scoops Ahoy, you, him, and robin had been inseparable. no outsiders would ever be able to tell that there was ever a time when you and steve weren’t on good terms...or on any terms for that matter.  as time progressed, you’d now easily call steve one of your best friends. you rarely were not at scoops ahoy, hanging out in the backroom and avoiding their managers. steve had an open invitation to your movie nights, now, although he wasn’t yet granted key privileges like robin was. (you were sure your parents would kill you if you ever gave steve harrington a key to your house.) you’d sat backseat in steve’s car as he and robin scream-sang songs you didn’t know the words to. steve and robin had a bond that you could never begin to understand, and you and robin had one steve could never understand.

 where did that leave you and steve? working on it, for sure. he was funny, intelligent, and quite personable. he was a great friend to robin, and a great friend to you. you felt bad for writing him off so soon. nothing was difficult with steve. you guys had split and shared plenty of burgers at the local diners, and often the two of you would go to the video store, where you educated steve about movies and their importance. steve was clingy, more so onto you than robin. he always wanted to come over, or wanted you to come hang out, or begged for you to tag along when him and robin went on an adventure. 

once, steve had sat you down with a very serious look in his eye, visibly nervous, and declared that you were his best friend. he didn’t know what a best friend felt like, he said, but since you were the person he liked to spend time with the most, it must be you. before you could reply with a similar sentiment, he had added “and robin. but she knew that.” 

so, yeah, things were good. and they remained good for months.

and then the switch flipped, and steve started skipping trio adventures, and calling off of work on days robin worked. calls were fielded, and whenever you caught him in the streets, he brushed you off with a “hey y/n” and a “gotta go.” you were worried, because he was isolating himself with no explanation. there was hardly a ghost of him in the spots the three of you frequented “what’s wrong with steve?” you had asked robin when you first noticed his prolonged absence. robin hadn’t brought steve up for a week, which was odd. normally conversations were peppered with his name, although you and robin had always tried your hardest to pass the in real life bechdel test. 

robin’s response of “i don’t want to talk about him,” confirmed your sneaking suspicion that something had occurred for steve to become so cold. robin and steve were two of the most easy going people you had ever met, so for them to have had an argument seemed far fetched. robin’s stoney features after you had mentioned his name, however, made it obvious to you that an altercation had happened. 

----------------

“what are you doing here?” steve stood behind his door, keeping it open only a hair so you couldn’t wedge yourself inside. 

“what is going on with you?” you asked coldly. the time for reaching out gently had passed.  “you’ve been absolutely ignoring robin & i, and for what, you asshole?”

 “oh shit, is she here?” his eyes scanned his front lawn frantically, in search for robin. “you shouldn’t be here, y/n.”

 “good thing you aren’t in charge of telling me what i should and shouldn’t do, dad. if you don’t talk to me...i’ll..i’ll scream!” 

“go away.” he motioned to shut the door. 

surprising him by how compliant you were, you turned on your heel and trotted down off of his front porch into the lawn. pleased with himself for getting you away so easily, he closed the door and turned the lock. as soon as you heard the lock click, and watched steve skate away through the window, you planted your feet and took a deep breath. 

and then you were screaming. god, you hoped his parents and neighbors weren’t home, because here you were, in steve harrington’s front yard, wailing. you were screaming bloody murder, pausing to catch your breath with all of the cadence of a baby’s cry. you started from a yell and transitioned into a scream. you screamed in every musical scale known to man. you screamed loudly, and you screamed even louder than loudly. your voice box was your portable “ring for service” bell. so, you exercised it.

it felt like years, although it was only 30 seconds of sound until steve came running out into his front yard. he was trying his best to be angry, asking you “what the actual fuck, y/n,” but he was stifling laughter. 

“i told you i would, steve.”“you’re so infuriating!” he let out a frustrated chuckle, and carded his hands through his hair, tugging. “and i’m,” he sighed, facing you with a hollow look in his eye. “i’m in love with you. god, i’m in love with you, and robin’s pissed. so i took a step away for her to cool off, and for me to,” he shrugged,”i don’t know, for me to get over it i guess.” 

for all of that screaming you had done earlier, you were now speechless. moments and moments, it felt like a million moments passed and there was nothing but silence. what were you to say? how do you respond to such a candid confession? finally, after what felt like three years of silence, steve cut his sad and unwavering eye contact and headed back into his house, leaving you there, feet planted, stunned into silence and stagnance.

 you waited a beat in his lawn, processing. then the only thing on your mind was robin. you made a mad dash to your car, shaking your key ring in an effort to start the engine faster. after speeding an ungodly amount, you reached robin’s house. you parked haphazardly in her driveway, shifting into park before you even braked to a stop.

 as you unlocked robin’s door, with your key labeled “robin’s” in big bold letters, she heard the lock jingling and came to the door. “y/n, i was just about to leave and come to your house! i want to go to a movie, is there anything good out?” 

“steve’s in love with me?” you spoke silently, feeling small, the gravity of the confession finally hitting you.

 “well, that’s not exactly a movie,” she tried to joke, but noticing the sullen look in your eyes, she sighed and took a seat on the couch. “yeah, he is.” 

“what the hell, robin?”  you took your usual seat to the left of her, sprawling your limbs out. “he told me you were pissed off.” 

“well, yeah! you broke your own heart in high school over him, and you were sick for years. imagine if he actually broke your heart? you’d be inconsolable.”

 “for him to break my heart, i’d have to feel the same way, dingus.” you poked her arm. 

“are you stupid?” she deadpanned, causing you to let out a shocked laugh and sit up straight.

 “robin!” you gaped. “i am not in love with steve!” 

“okay, you’re stupid,” robin said again, sending the two of you into a fit of giggles. you loved robin so much, that sitting there, laughing and talking about boys was enjoyable, and you almost forgot the two of you were talking about steve. your best friend steve. robin always knew you better than yourself, though, so her implications about your feelings for steve made you think. were you in love with steve? every memory the two of you had shared flashed through your brain like a movie montage. you and steve ordering two different entrees, and then splitting them. steve sneaking you into his house, past his parents, so you could lay in bed and read comics. steve letting you cling onto him during scary movie night, robin calling the both of you pansies in the background. that one time steve called himself daddy and your stomach did a little flip. 

“oh fuck, robin, i think i’m in love with steve,” you groaned, burying her head into her shoulder. everything was made complicated by this realization, you knew. robin and steve weren’t even on speaking terms because of this, and you hadn’t even been involved at that point. and you didn’t even respond to steve when he told you. he was probably so upset. further than that, what would robin think if you and steve were to like...try and get together? would she be mad? what would that mean for the three of you as a unit?

you relayed all of these feelings, thoughts, and questions to robin. although she was close to the situation and probably biased, you still trusted her the most to give you accurate and smart advice. her answers always were right, because she knew you better than you knew yourself. robin assured you that her and steve hadn’t explicitly fought, per se, but she had let him know how she felt about the situation and advised him to step away and sort himself out. but no argument had occurred, contrary to your imagined idea. there were no “bad terms” between the two of them, and robin said she felt like if she saw steve this weekend, they’d fall back into their normal relationship and banter. this soothed you. 

“but if...if steve doesn’t hate me, and something like, happens, how would you feel?” 

“first of all, y/n, you’re dramatic,” you nod in agreement. “as long as he’s not an idiot, and you’re not an idiot...i suppose i will be okay. as long as you’re not, like, gross or anything. but i trust both of you.” 

and that, honestly, was all you needed to hear. after pinky promising you would come back to robin’s house later and tell her everything, you left as quickly as you had come, whipping out of the driveway and going back to where your day’s adventure had first started: steve’s place.

 you felt like you were walking on eggshells around steve, and although you were so excited you wanted to scream (again) and bang on his door, you channeled all of your nervous energy into a doorbell ring and rocking back and forth on your heels. when steve came to the door, he looked sadder than you left him. his hair was wild, his eyes red.

“i love you,” you stated simply, but you felt like your words fell short. how do you put so much emotion into 3 words? there was no way that this could encompass what you felt for steve. you paused. “there’s no way that those words can encompass what i feel for you.”

 ------------

“you’re fucking annoying, steve,” robin stated, tossing a piece of popcorn at him as she stood up to leave. it was movie night at his house, and although he wasn’t really doing anything, him and robin were engaged in some playful banter. steve had made some comments about the poor cinematography of the movie robin had chosen, and she was displeased. you were situated snugly in steve’s lap, his arms wrapped around your waist. you vocally agreed with robin because, yeah, steve was annoying, and he gave your hip a pinch, making you jump.

 “asshole!” you yelped, peeling yourself off of him. 

“you love me,” he commented, not incorrect. 

“yeah, but you’re annoying.” you and robin were a united front, always, despite what you and steve’s relationship status was. you wrapped your arms around her tightly. “drive home safely, please.” she nodded and tipped an invisible hat. 

“i always do, y/n. you two lovebirds have fun, but not too much fun, because we have work tomorrow morning, steve!” she made a hand motion indicating that she was watching him, moving two fingers from her eyes to point at him. 

“aye aye, captain! get some rest, you’ve got a lot of ice cream slinging to do tomorrow. i’m thinking i’m going to hang in the backroom for a little bit.” he grinned as robin groaned, letting herself out of the front door with a sing-songy “goodbye.” 

“c’mere, love,” steve said, looking up at you from the couch. you gave him a big smile and returned to your seat in his lap, straddling him. 

this was the only thing that was different about movie nights now. you and steve would spend the night together afterwards. steve was your boyfriend now. could high school you believe it? you ran your fingers through his hair, giving him a soft kiss on his forehead. “i know you have work tomorrow, and i wanna spend as much time as possible with you, but i’m really tired,” you mumbled, laying your head on his shoulder.

 he nodded with a smile. “that’s okay, baby. let’s lay in bed, we’ll kiss a little, and i’ll let you sleep.” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

 as soon as the two of you were situated, face washed, pajamas on, covers pulled up to your chins, steve turned to you and pushed a piece of hair out of your face. “i can’t believe i have the coolest girlfriend ever.” “i can’t believe you’re this cheesy, harrington,” you replied, but his words made your chest warm. you were the farthest thing from cool, and all you had ever wanted was steve to think you were cool. although he was, at this point, not a very good judge of being “cool,” because he had evolved into less of a high school king and more of a loveable dork, you were still elated to hear this from him. steve thought you were cool. and you weren’t, clearly, but he wasn’t either. you pressed a kiss to his lips gently, a smile permanently etched onto your face. “i love you, dingus.” 

[excorcismic]

ALRIGHT SO HERE’S THE DEAL ; if misa is my first favorite death note character , this angy kid right here is my second - i adore mello to pieces and he’s very close to misa in terms of how much i love him , but ultimately does she remain queen . but ! the cool thing is that in the series they never actually interact ( the closest being mello spying on her for a brief period of time ) which means i could play my two blonde fashion icons and voila , here they are . so here’s the gist on mello in canon & alucard and most importantly the plots i am digging bc my muse for him rn ?? is off the charts . LESGO !

IN A CANON NUTSHELL ( HUGE DEATH NOTE SPOILERS ) : So Mello’s introduced during the latter half of Death Note ( or maybe it’s more the final third but either way there’s a part where it significantly breaks in two ) - or , the very end of the first half , takes center stage during the second . He’s from the original home of the detective L , an orphanage of gifted children known as Whammy’s House - and essentially , the goal of the children is to maybe one day live up to L , one person taking his place . Mello !! Is one of the candidates . But he has a permanent chip on his shoulder since Near - the other candidate - always managed to beat him at everything . So when Light Yagami gets his way & L dies , Near and Mello are told that L didn’t choose a successor between them . When the idea that they work together to do just that is brought up , Near ( who honestly really liked Mello ) is like ‘hey! let’s do it’ and Mello ( still angy that Near is always right in front of him ) is like ‘FUCK you I’m gonna catch Kira myself’ and leaves the orphanage . Five years later , he works with the mafia , even getting his hands on a Death Note & with the help of a shinigami ( that he scared the living piss out of ) concludes that a rule that states a human will die if they haven’t written in the notebook in thirteen days is fake . He also like , blackmails the president and orchestrates an explosion that Soichiro Yagami dies after but he gets a wicked ass scar afterwards so it’s okay . Now working with L’s third potential successor , Matt , he spies on Misa Amane and makes connections between the second L ( Light Yagami ) & Kira , deduces that Kiyomi Takada is an accomplice , and kidnaps her to try and expose Kira as Light Yagami - but . . . he dies in the process , and so does Matt . The cool thing is though his discoveries led to Near’s breakthrough in the Kira case ( as he and Near met one last time , where he gives Mello the photo he has here in Alucard ) and Mello kind of gets the last laugh post-mortem . And also a kind of neat thing , his last appearance is as the narrator in the Death Note prequel , the Los Angeles BB murder cases - I’m gonna quote the whole thing in my eventual intro but ! It’s an awesome book and Mello is an awesome narrator . ( dn spoilers end here tyvm )

IN AN ALUCARD NUTSHELL - So Mihael Keehl ( his real name in canon , mind you ) is a twenty year-old runaway from the foster system - also sometimes lived in an orphanage but when he wasn’t , the constant tossing around because of his rebellious tendencies wrecked him . He isn’t employed , not does he actually have an actual home - living in a beat down truck most of the time if he can’t get a motel / hotel room for a night or a few . He makes basic expenses and fills his basic needs by doing odd jobs in exchange for money or favors - stuff like ‘if I do this for you for x amount of days or I get this for you you’ll pay for my phone bill for the next two months’ and that stuff . Basic arrangements . And he knows he can like , maybe try to commit to a job or a home but he’s actually . . . way too fucking scared of being tied down or in a worse situation that’s somehow more stable so the nomad life is kind of what he sticks with . But he’s homeless & it’s not good for him . At all . He’ll never flat-out admit that though which is why he calls himself a drifter . His main reason for being on his own , and refusing any extensive help from anyone outside of these favors , is because he has a point to prove - because that inferiority complex kicks in because the other kids he grew up against are doing amazing things and he wants to do better , and not receive any large amount of help . He just ,,, doesn’t understand he’s not doin’ any good for himself .

BUT OOOOOOOH YOU WANNA PLOT WITH MELLO SO BAD OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

so the biggest connection in the sense that it’s the most open , i mentioned that mello mainly pays for his own expenses ( or more so , gets other people to pay for them ) by doing favors or small jobs in exchange for either money or other forms of payment . so obviously , people he has these arrangements with - they can range from anything , mello is extremely smart ( a thing that comes up is that he has a shit ton of wasted potential ) in the books , technology , the streets and has a bunch of small talents he’s picked up over the years of living on his own ( saving money , sewing and mending / caring for clothes how else is he gonna keep that amazing fashion , cooking with very little ingredients , cleaning with little tools , fixing the kinks / souping up automobiles , ahem sexual stuff , tutoring , sometimes even mild illegal shit , you name it . ) so he can offer these talents / skills / etc . to other people who could use them ( most of the time repeatedly ) and in exchange , the other muses will pay him in cash or by doing things like paying his phone bill , car insurance , health insurance , food / groceries , hotel/motel room for a few nights , or even just offering him a place to use the shower or bathroom or even a bed for certain days of the week . This can also lead to many of the other plots I have listed here in the sense it’s a start , and it can happen with anyone , anywhere , for any reason .

literally the thing w/ mel is that he knows no limits and will do anything for anyone and is hardheaded as fuck about it because he’s got a point to prove and things to do and he won’t waste time refusing but the moment you offer your help in exchange for nothing or you’re trying to hold his hand a little too much and he catches on , the arrangement’s over and you’ll be lucky to see him again .

okay so uh . in that sense ?? maybe ppl who kind of helped him out and he did like . one thing for them and once he got his payment for that one thing he kinda bounced n they never heard from him again for whatever reason . nothing against them but he rly isn’t gonna make a habit of staying in one place for too long . 

obviously , those people that really think he’s gotta give up the ghost of trying to survive like this bc it’s wearing on his health & he doesn’t wanna admit it . and he’s tried shaking them off but he won’t leave and sometimes he’s forced to give into the help they offer but tries making them take a payment back .

old peers that felt whatever way about him back then but feel pity for his wasted potential ( at the moment ) , bc this dude was like . . . a straight-a student and was rly good at a bunch of things and now he’s living the way he is . whatever they wanna do and however they felt about him and how he interacted with them back then Differs but . there’s kind of like ‘damn u live like this’ now . gimme some kids who had crushes on him , kids he was rivals with , kids he got into fights with and maybe socked in the jaw a few times , kids who always admired him , kids who hated his guts - it always comes down to what life is like now vs. what life was like then .

i’d like some friends who were formed from the favors - and maybe they’ve stopped whatever they had with him but they still regularly hang out or something , maybe offer a place to stay for the night . 

just in general ?? people who keep their home open for him and whether he takes them up on their offer on a rare basis .

pls some folks trick him into accepting their help like leave him basket of chocolate candy and trap him or something like just . make it ‘wait what’ deal bc they all know he’s stubborn .

also uh . he’s been arrested for minor offenses a few times so some ppl who’ve bailed him out pls and he’s tryna repay him back .

mentor figures . mentor figures pls he’s trying not to accept their mentor-y guidance from .

so maybe the hero  . . . maybe the one person who was like the l to mello of alucard ( maybe even the Man himself ) that he just . looked up to forever and probably still does .

. . . favor idea ?? maybe he’s a stand-in boyfriend or date for events or somethin’ like mello kinda has that bad boy reputation but maybe he dated them for show on their whim at some point or they have that kinda thing ‘pls pretend to my boyfriend and i’ll let u use my shower every weekend for the next month’ or so .

also , one night stands or friends with benefits he uses only for the bathroom / a place to sleep . folks he’s dated for a period bc he did feel something and therefore he had them as an outlet but then broke up with them ( most likely ?? he was the one who ended it bc he has never known love stability & got spooked on it ending and just - did it on his own accord before he could further get hurt BUT THAT NEVER WORKS and he has hella commitement issues ) and tried to shrug it off as ‘ just another fling ’ even tho he’s highkey sad over it . ppl he’s slept with and then disappears with only a ‘thank you’ note as the evidence he was there . and do they accept it ?? are they pissed over it ?? that is up to You but it’s probably gotten around that mihael keehl has never had a stable relationship and never , ever stays . 

lots of ppl he probs has the above two arrangements or scenarios with bc again , gotta get shit done somehow .

enemies . . . he has an endless grudge with for some reason like maybe they screwed him over , 

i want . . . folks he can eventually get soft with and maybe actually seek that comfort in even tho u gotta chip at the five thousand concrete walls to get to that stage . i want to see him become better and that’s an ultimate goal for him in alucard ( even though it’s gonna be a bit more difficult with his memories returning ) to get better , commit to something , accept stability and get his life on a better track .

and yes , that includes an eventual ship ! really it can build off of any of these dynamics just . give me sneaking in through windows late at night , soft words and gentle kisses and protective hugs and please stay i know you never stay but please stay with me and the thought that maybe he should leave but he doesn’t and they wake up with him after a night and he’s still there and maybe there’s a scare he left like he always does but he made chocolate chip pancakes and he feels safe & alright which is . . . a rare occasion in his messy ass life . maybe something like friends to lovers , fwb to lovers , an old flame , anything this could be fun to do !! end goal though , i’d like something on the softer side that’s healthy and loving because that’s really what he needs . 

( some notes tho bc he’s only twenty i’ll sayyyy max i’ll do the more romantic / spicier stuff with in that aspect is . . . 23 - 24 ?? bc he’s almost 21 like if we put the fact we’re in october into account and his birthday is december 13th that isn’t too far away so . That’s That . he’s also pan as fuck . )

BUT , yes . the main connections / plots there are what i can think of . ik a lot of these are so wordy and i’m sorry bt as always ! i will take literally anything i love plots and i think with what i have for mello there is so much potential in what we can do here .

and as always . give me other death note characters . near or matt specifically would fucking make me cry and i’m here for it .

[anti-pasto]

for the 200 ask thingy, i actually dare you to do all of them. :D

delgaskarthalexhere we go, anon: 

200: My crush’s name is: I don’t have one right now, I don’t get them often (if I ever had a crush at all)

199: I was born in: 2003

198: I am really: A 2005 emo kid x a 2008 scene kid x a 2014 tumblr fangirl x Kyle himself

 197: My cellphone company is: Apple

194: My ring size is: Honestly? No idea. Propose to me with a sword.

 193: My height is: Somewhere between 5′7″ and 5′8″

192: I am allergic to: Nothing I’m aware of 

191: My 1st car was:  94 Station Wagon, by request

190: My 1st job was: being this funny is a full-time gig

 189: Last book you read: Bone Gap by Laura Ruby

188: My bed is: “made”

187: My pet: I have a cat, I love her very much and I will show her to you if you dm me a cursed image

186: My best friend: We don’t use “best friend” for personal reasons, but they’ve been with me since I was 5 so, my one and only Bro

185: My favorite shampoo is: anything with “silky smooth” or “strawberries” on the bottle. i’m not that picky anymore.

184: Xbox or ps3: xbox or ps4  xbox

183: Piggy banks are: really useful

 182: In my pockets: wallet, keys, phone, earbuds, black pen/pencil, earplugs, mini flashlight

 181: On my calendar:  i’m meeting a friend for smoothies tomorrow

 180: Marriage is: something we shouldn’t push so much onto people. it’s a declaration of love, not an end-all fix-all to your life. i can’t ever see myself getting married but who knows!

 179: Spongebob can: continue to be a relevant meme

178: My mom: i mean. we function. i can’t really complain about my family at large but i am defiantly looking forward to living literally as far away from them as i can. 

 177: The last three songs I bought were? psh, you think i pay for music? (folie a deux, lake effect kid, believers never die volume two) (those are albums but its okay)

176: Last YouTube video watched: I watched Markiplier play Uno

175: How many cousins do you have? 11? 12? I lost count

174: Do you have any siblings? I have a brother

 173: Are your parents divorced? Nope!

172: Are you taller than your mom? Yes, I have been for a while

171: Do you play an instrument? dude HECK yeah! i vibe on piano, guitar, ukulele, clarinet, and im a drum major

170: What did you do yesterday? I went on a drive by myself.

 [ I Believe In ] 

169: Love at first sight: Nope.

168: Luck: Yes, but luck is something that can be engineered

167: Fate: To an extent

 166: Yourself: I’d say overall, yeah. I still have doubts tho

165: Aliens: Mmmmmm yeah

 164: Heaven: Yes

163: Hell: Yes

162: God: Yeup

 161: Horoscopes: without an ounce of truth, they would have died a long time ago

160: Soul mates: the greeks had seven words for love. i think we have multiple soul mates to fit each of those categories. there are definitely people we’re just meant to vibe with

159: Ghosts: i want to say yes but i really dont know

158: Gay Marriage: yes. its 2020. grow up.

157: War: in theory? no. war is kinda messed up. in reality? not everyone is going to be down to nice diplomatic conflict resolution, and not everyone is just gonna leave people *countries* they don’t like alone, so...

156: Orbs: ??? energies are real

155: Magic: vibes are real

 [ This or That ]

 154: Hugs or Kisses: hugs

153: Drunk or High: i am a child of jesus

152: Phone or Online: online

 151: Red heads or Black haired:  irdc but black hair bc i am Emo

150: Blondes or Brunettes: blonde?? ig?? easier to dye

149: Hot or cold: hot weather + cold rooms

148: Summer or winter: summer

147: Autumn or Spring: autum (screw spring)

 146: Chocolate or vanilla: vanilla

145: Night or Day: night

 144: Oranges or Apples: oranges (better to share with homies)

 143: Curly or Straight hair: i dont care but curly

 142: McDonalds or Burger King: mcdonald give iced coffee

141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: dark chocolate

 140: Mac or PC: pc for vidgya gaemes

139: Flip flops or high heals: ...converse. please. i cant walk properly in either of those

 138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: sweet and poor 

 137: Coke or Pepsi: pepsi

136: Hillary or Obama: this is kinda outdated but obama

135: Burried or cremated: cremated i aint watch spn for nothin

134: Singing or Dancing: singing. at least that gets better with practice

133: Coach or Chanel: chanel (thank u mr frank ocean and also the neighborhood)

 132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: whomst

 131: Small town or Big city: big city and if you say small town you’ve never lived in a small town

 130: Wal-Mart or Target: target

 129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: who tf is this

 128: Manicure or Pedicure: idk dude probably pedicure i don’t like people touching my hands and i use them for too much to get my nails done

127: East Coast or West Coast: hnngggggggg west coast has more to do but east coast has better beaches and 

126: Your Birthday or Christmas: birthday 

125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate bc then i can give u some

124: Disney or Six Flags: ive only been to disney so disney (though i AM a HARDCORE rollercoaster stan so it wouldnt take much for me to say six flags)

123: Yankees or Red Sox: what 

 [ Here’s What I Think About ]

 122: War: unfortunately sometimes necessary but not as a first resort i went over this already 

 121: George Bush: is that the shoe guy?

 120: Gay Marriage:  be gay. do crime. kiss wife. or husband. or partner. basically, hell yeah

119: The presidential election: america need 2 b single and focus on herself

 118: Abortion: pro-choice and that choice should be made by the one carrying the baby

117: MySpace: tumblr’s dad

116: Reality TV: don’t talk to about abt this

 115: Parents: disgusting. go to therapy. 

114: Back stabbers: if you’re gonna stab me in the back, pull my lungs through my ribcage bc that’s what my ancestor’s ghosts are gonna do to you (thanks great (x a few times) grandma viking ily thanks for the hair:) )

113: Ebay: good for merch and selling books

 112: Facebook: zuck my dick, data-theif

111: Work: i like doing work? like- i enjoy completing tasks and seeing my hard work pay off? it’s not that bad?

110: My Neighbors: old. boring. want me to babysit for free.

109: Gas Prices: i cant really complain rn they’re kinda low and im a little broke so

108: Designer Clothes: i vibe to them, honestly

 107: College: not for everyone but definitely for me

106: Sports: marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport but only technically speaking though you can make fair comparisons to sports such as cheer, and gymnastics where the idea is to put on a show and receive a score in the form of competition. 

 105: My family: disgusting

104: The future: the future doesn’t exist

 [ Last time I ] 

103: Hugged someone: god, don’t ask me this

 102: Last time you ate: uhhh like 9 hours ago? it was dinner and i had pizza

 101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: three or four weeks ago by best bro came to visit and we vibed

100: Cried in front of someone: i finished twist and shout at school at the end of a very bad week. it was only a few tears but that’s as close as i get to crying

99: Went to a movie theater: whenever the last star wars movie came out

98: Took a vacation: last year i went to dc over summer break to see the Smithsonian, it was a lot of fun. i was supposed to go to altanta and florida this year but that didn’t happen for reasons

 97: Swam in a pool: last week

 96: Changed a diaper: never

 95: Got my nails done: never

 94: Went to a wedding: its been at least 6 years dude

93: Broke a bone: never, somehow

 92: Got a peircing: nope

91: Broke the law: technically, yesterday. 55 is too slow

90: Texted: just now

 [ MISC ] 

89: Who makes you laugh the most: the person in my snap named “junior”

88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my cat

87: The last movie I saw: probably into the spiderverse

86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: things going back to normal. or somewhat normal. i need school to have a schedule bc i absolutely cannot force myself to function without outside influence

 85: The thing im not looking forward to: ironically, school in the fall. the way we’re going back is going to wreck me more than lockdown already has

 84: People call me: i only ft one of my bros and they know who tf they are if you ask to ft you’re getting fuckin blocked mate i dont do that shit video calls are for WORK and SCHOOL thats IT. but ppl call me by my nickname irl, i go by screech on here. 

83: The most difficult thing to do is: listen to my parent’s political opinions? live in a small town? force myself to be productive without a physical influence and reminder? put up with that one dude?

82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: nope

 81: My zodiac sign is: scoprio/leo/gemini

80: The first person i talked to today was: the potential bassist for our potential band? 

79: First time you had a crush: uhh im still not sure if it was a crush but i wanted them to myself and they wanted (and got) someone better. we were just friends so it doesn’t really matter

 78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: the person on snap named “the great oracle”

77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: yesterday, it was my brother

 76: Right now I am talking to: in order of snap names, “vibin ~[^.^]~”, “russian umbrella”, and “mom” (not really)

75: What are you going to do when you grow up: hopefully, a job that makes me happy

74: I have/will get a job: as soon as i know what’s going on with school. but like as an adult? wherever will hire me and pay my fairly. being a barista would be fun, but at a local place (not in my current town)

73: Tomorrow: ???? time for bad poetry: tomorrow i will see my friend/ admist this lasting chaos/ we will be each other’s solitude/ while sharing fruity drinks/ and when we both come home/ a smile we will bring

72: Today: idk what this means so more poetry: today i will be sleep deprived as always/ i will think of them and weep/ but no tears will fall from my eyes/ for i know there is a reason/ we went our own way

 71: Next Summer: i fr dont know whats goin on so: next summer i will be/ as happy as can be/ because i will be in pain no longer/ the earth is sure to heal/ and i will heal with her/ so i can enjoy/ the heatwave of next summer

70: Next Weekend: next weekend i will spend/ my days wasting away/ maybe ill finish hannibal/ again/ not that serial killers make the dopamine stay/ i will not see my friends/ or talk to my family/ i will seldom eat/ and live off coffee/ this has been my life/ all quarintine/ god someone please help me

 69: I have these pets: i have four cats, three chickens, and a dog

 68: The worst sound in the world: my dad and grandpa talking

 67: The person that makes me cry the most is: Them

 66: People that make you happy: snap name time: the great oracle, junior, vibin ~[^.^]~, russian umbrella, mom, hero, booby-king 48, go to bed, son, pooper trooper, mac&cheese, plain egg biscuit, apple pie

 65: Last time I cried: i dont cry bitch (last week over officals that cant make up they gottdamned mindes)

64: My friends are: my family and i would die for each and all of them

 63: My computer is: an old hp but it play gaemes real good so it okie

 62: My School: is trash but the band pops off

61: My Car: old, fast, clean

60: I lose all respect for people who: are my dad

 59: The movie I cried at was: i cried over big hero six

 58: Your hair color is: blonde

57: TV shows you watch: supernatural, good omens, hannibal, parks and rec

56: Favorite web site: this hellsite or youtube

 55: Your dream vacation: out of the country with beautiful beaches, amazing food, and my best friend

54: The worst pain I was ever in was: the time i split the back of my head open, the time i split my chin open, and the time my then best friend said they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. i’ll let you guess which one hurt the most and which one i think about every fucking day

53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium or medium well. 

52: My room is: clean and a reflection of myself, or so i’ve been told

51: My favorite celebrity is: i do not engage in celebrity worship. ill follow them and reblog gifs/interviews but i dont really have a favorite. the less i know abt them the better.

 50: Where would you like to be: my own apartment in nyc

49: Do you want children: FUCK THEM KIDS BRO

 48: Ever been in love: i dont know if it was love. i dont know if it was a crush. what i do know id that i was attached and they didn’t feel the same, and why would they?

 47: Who’s your best friend: we dont really use best friend bc but “the great oracle” “junior” and “vibin ~[^.^]~”

46: More guy friends or girl friends: its 50/50

45: One thing that makes you feel great is: goin fast, the beach, playin video games

44: One person that you wish you could see right now: them

43: Do you have a 5 year plan: go to college, earn degree

 42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: commit arson

 41: Have you pre-named your children: FUCK. THEM. KIDS. BRO.

40: Last person I got mad at: they do not understand that they do not know everything about something they’re not even involved in yet

39: I would like to move to: new zealand

38: I wish I was a professional: artist? musican? youtuber? who knows

 [ My Favorites ] 

37: Candy: nerds

36: Vehicle: 1970 mustang gt

 35: President: jfk only bc his assassination is the only good thing abt american history the rest of it is fucked up and shouldn’t have happened. also jfk’s song in assassians the musical goes hard

34: State visited: california

 33: Cellphone provider: verizon? apple? idfk

32: Athlete: what is sport

31: Actor: i don't watch shows or movies

30: Actress: i do not consume media

29: Singer: alex gaskarth or alexander deleon

 28: Band: fall out boy 

 27: Clothing store: hot topic (i will not apologize)

 26: Grocery store: okay harris teeter fucks but lidil’s has aloe vera juice and target at 9 pm energy so idk man 

25: TV show: supernatural...

24: Movie: big hero 6

 23: Website: tumblr or youtube

 22: Animal: snow leopard 

 21: Theme park: busch gardens bc roller coaster go fast

20: Holiday: christmas

19: Sport to watch: snowboarding bc its like skateboarding but on snow

18: Sport to play: anything with havy footwork (marching band is a sport)

17: Magazine: i do not condume media

16: Book: the ranger’s apprentice series as a whole makes up my all-time one favorite book

 15: Day of the week: friday bc its game day baybey

14: Beach: cocoa beach in florida but also i have so much left to experience 

13: Concert attended: i havent been to any notable gigs but i was supposed to go to hella mega

 12: Thing to cook: pancakes

11: Food: pizza or shushi

 10: Restaurant: chiplote

 9: Radio station: i like my local rock station and my local edm/top 40 station

8: Yankee candle scent: anything smoky or vanilla idc

7: Perfume: chanel no. 5 if i even wear it

6: Flower: Hydrangea

5: Color: orange

 4: Talk show host: cecil palmer

 3: Comedian: john maulaney

 2: Dog breed: yes

1: Did you answer all these truthfully? ;)

That was a trip. But it was fun, please do things like this more often. Also, I don’t consume media by choice. I’m not sheltered I just can’t be bothered, and I have enough going on. That being said I will now be sleeping. Thanks again, Anon, I hope you have fun reading this :D

[tk-duveraun]

hmm, maybe sylvix "Hiding an Injury" with Felix being the Dumbass BitchTM who does it bc he wants to train more? is this too specific of a request?

We’re almost done with bingo! You can commission me here. And I’m also offering Ko-fi Drabbles ATM

---

A low-level stream of insults and swears directed at nothing in particular was the usual for Felix. Well, for the Felix in Sylvain’s head. By the time the soulbond activated, he was used to waking up to Felix’s complaints. They didn’t exactly keep to separate tents in the field. So when the day came that Felix’s grumbling was inside his head and not outside, Sylvain didn’t notice for several hours. He might not have noticed at all except that he kept thinking the name Dimitri instead of his usual pejorative. 

“Hey, uh, Felix, you notice anything strange today?” Sylvain asked, pulling his horse up alongside him.

“You paying attention for once,” he’d thrown back without a glance over.

“Ha, ha, but I meant more cerebrally.”

“By the goddess, Sylvain!” Ingrid jabbed him with the butt of her lance. “What he means is, happy birthday, Felix.”

“We have more important things to worry about than birthdays and fairytales,” Felix said. He jogged away from them, into the tightly formed infantry ranks so they couldn’t follow on their horses.

Sylvain frowned after him and scratched his cheek. He didn’t know how to feel. They were undeniably soulmates - he could hear Felix’s whining about himself in his head as he stared - so the rejection didn’t hurt as much as… confuse him. What point was there in pretending? They could die at any moment. “What’s gotten into him?”

“Maybe he can’t hear anything. It’s… Not great, waking up to silence.”

“I’m sorry, Ingrid.”

“Thanks.” She looked away. “I know it could be someone that’s younger than me, but… It did feel like losing Glenn all over again.”

He reached across the gap between their horses and squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll talk to him tonight. It’s hard to imagine him being disappointed over something like this.”

“Maybe. If I’ve learned one thing about Felix, it’s that you can’t really predict how he’ll respond to things.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Sylvain sighed and tuned out Felix’s muttering. He’d be gentle when he brought it up. Soulbonds didn’t offer any kind of real telepathy, so it wasn’t as if they were losing a tactical asset with his resistance. Actually, listening too closely to the mind whispers could be a detriment. Warnings without context. Alarms without direction.

The day’s march was the longest of Sylvain’s life, even though he was mounted for most of it. He envied Ingrid, who had switched to her pegasus to scout the road ahead. He could only listen to so many marching songs before his eyes crossed. He hoped Felix was suffering, too. He was going to have Old Brown’s Daughter stuck in his head for weeks.

Felix didn’t show up at the officer’s mess for dinner, nor did he pop his head into the command meeting to sneer at Dimitri. He didn’t even show up at their tent to sleep until the middle of second watch. “Go to sleep, idiot,” he growled.

“How’d you know I was awake?” Sylvain rolled over to face Felix and watch his shadow remove his armor.

“You sleep on your back.”

“Not always-”

“No, I can’t fucking hear anything. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted?” Felix threw his sword belts and they clattered on the ground in the silence between them. “I’m broken. Just like I’ve always been broken. Too many emotions as a child. Not enough now. Little Crybaby Felix just can’t get his feelings right. Well, I can’t hear my soulmate either, so there it is!”

Sylvain scrambled to his feet and grabbed onto his shoulders. “That’s not- No one thinks that, Fe.”

Felix grabbed his in return and shook him. “They don’t have to think it. It’s true. I can feel you in the back of my-” He makes an aborted motion to his head, then turns his hand into a fist and pushes presses it over Sylvain’s heart. “But I can’t hear anything. Not a single one of your stupid thoughts that doesn’t make it out of your mouth.”

He closed his hand over his fist. “That’s okay. I was just afraid it didn’t… work. That we weren’t- But if you can feel me the bond is there. My thoughts are stupid anyway. It’s probably to keep you from killing me.” He pressed his face close, so Felix could make out the smile on his face.

“Why can’t I just be-”

“Screw normal. Normal has me marrying some airheaded girl and making Crest babies for the rest of my life. I’m much happier with you. Just the way you are.”

“Tch.”

But Felix let him pull him down onto their combined bedrolls. Let Sylvain remove his hair tie and work out the tangles and knots from the day. He couldn’t hear Sylvain’s dumb thoughts, but he did feel a vague happiness. A warm contentment. That could be enough.

[mx-sfthrs]

"we can't keep doing this"

"we're not just friends and you fucking know it"

a/n: i got the starter sentences from this post if u wanna use some !! no one asked for this i just felt like writing because i love me a good friends to lovers troupe and yall already heard me rant abt it but lowkey prob i love w my own best friend so yikes anyways there’s no other warnings besides it getting kind of suggestive but nothing explicitly sexual happens it’s just super hinted at lol also there’s no time on purpose bc this all happens over a span of two weeks so it felt weird to add a time

word count: 1.4k

[__:__] you've had feelings for your best friend changkyun for quite some time, but once you realized it you almost immediately pushed them down. he had never given you any indication that he had feelings for you, and your friendship meant too much to you to screw up with what you thought was some dumb crush.

you'd gotten pretty good at ignoring your feelings, enduring a couple of girlfriends on his end and even dating some other boys yourself.

right now though, both of you guys were single and changkyun had been especially clingy lately, making it your ‘dumb crush’ increasingly more difficult to control.

earlier this week he had asked if you were free on friday night

"yeah, why?"

"i don't know, i was thinking about it and we haven't had a sleepover in a while and... well, i guess i miss it - uh miss you... my place at 7?"

you agreed since you already said you were free, but you knew that the whole thing would make you uncomfortable. you’d probably end up hyper fixating on whatever movie or video game you guys were playing to avoid letting your mind wonder too much.

-

that friday night, you guys were halfway through some old comedy movie when changkyun slid next to you and pulled you into him

"hey" he put his arm around your shoulder "you good?"

you looked up at him and he just looked so... soft? sweet?

"huh?” your heart felt like it was on fire from beating so quickly “y-yeah. i’m fine, just tired”

you guys have snuggled before, that wasn't what was making you nervous. the genuinely sweet and concerned look on his face was what was making your heart flutter

"okay" smiled a sweet, closed mouth smile that you've never seen before "you just seem kind of off"

he took the string of your hoodie into the hand that was around your shoulder and started to twirl it around his fingers while he went back to focusing on the movie

the movie finished and he leaned forward to grab the remote and click to another movie while you checked your phone. when he leaned back he kissed your cheek, grabbing your attention before pulling you back into him

you looked up at him, desperately hoping your ears weren't too noticeably red, just to see him looking at the screen with a smirk on his face. you had no idea what game he was playing but at this point you thought it would be harmless to play along

so, you leaned over and kissed his jaw before leaning back down onto his chest

-

nights like these started to become a lot more frequent, and a lot more intimate. it was actually really nice to receive this kind of attention from changkyun, but you still had some uneasy feelings. both of you had yet to talk about any kind of feelings towards each other, and while you two had been showing a sickening amount of physical affection for two people who were just “best friends”, it seemed that it wasn’t enough for either of you to be completely candid about wanting to be more than friends

almost every night for the next two weeks, one of you spent the night at the other’s house, no matter what you guys had to do in the morning. you were almost always in each others arms, complimenting each other more, and giving soft, chaste kisses everywhere but the lips. during sleepovers you two would usually sleep in the same bed but now you would fall asleep holding hands or cuddled up together under the covers.

-

one night, changkyun had you and some friends over for a small party. he didn’t pay much attention to you and at first it didn’t bug you, until you over heard him talking to one of his friends

“...you’re crazy, dude” changkyun nonchalantly sipped his beer “we’re just friends”

“whatever you say man...” his friend teased

as soon as you heard him say that you avoided him for the rest of the night. you felt like you had been taken advantage of

after everyone had left, you stayed back like you’d promised him before the party. you were cleaning up in the kitchen when you heard him say his last goodbyes and close the door

he came up to you from behind and wrapped his arms around your waist. with his chest flush against your back and his chin on your shoulder, he started to kiss your neck

“hey, thanks for stay - “

you tried to wiggle out of his grip, unamused and not in the mood to receive any kind of affection from him

“woah... you okay?”

“we can’t keep doing this, changkyun” you turned around and tried not to get more upset than you already were “i can’t keep doing this”

he looked confused so you kept going

“listen, you’re my best friend and if it’s not obvious by now, i’m kind of maybe sort of a little bit in love with you and have been for quite some time now...” you looked down trying to blink back tears

“...and i guess i misread the situation or something, i don’t know but all of this - whatever this is - i don’t want it anymore. it’s too much. and maybe you’re fine with all of this while still being friends but it’s really messing me up so can we please just go back to how things were two weeks ago, before that night? before all of the snuggling and kisses and hand holding and whatever, just...please?” 

changkyun took both of your hands in his

“y/n?” he tried bending down to look at your eyes

your voice was barely audible “please don’t...”

“why? why do you think we’re just friends?”

your head snapped up at him “are you serious? don’t pretend like you don’t know what i’m talking about. i heard what you said tonight. i heard you say that we were just friends”

“wait, just - “

“no! do you have any idea how used that made me feel?? for two weeks now all of the feelings i’ve had for you actually made me happy and excited instead of scared and ashamed and i guess i should’ve been more upfront with what i wanted because - mmph”

he kissed you. 

he’d kissed you before but never on the lips and never like this. it was sudden, but deep and soft and full of well, feelings. the same feelings you had for him.

when you were starting to get dizzy you pulled away

“what the - “

“we’re more than just friends and you fucking know it”

now you were the one who was confused, so he continued to explain

“my friend was making some dumb joke about that video of me kissing jooheon on the cheek, y/n. do you really think i’d just play with you like that? that i’d use you? listen, i know that i’ve done some dumb things before, but i knew exactly what i was doing this time, and exactly who i was doing it to. it was never my intention to...”

he stepped closer to you as you lowered your head, inwardly scolding yourself for being scared away at the smallest sign of trouble

“...hey” he gently lifted your chin to get you to look at him

“i’m sorr - “

“no, y/n, i’m sorry. you’re right, i should’ve been more upfront” he tucked some of your hair behind your ears “i should’ve just told you that i was in love with you instead of just showing you”

he stepped closer and guided your hands around his waist

“but i promise” he kissed your forehead, “that i” your left temple “want” your right temple “to be” your nose “so much more” your left cheekbone “than just” your right cheekbone “your friend” your lips

“oh yeah?” you giggled against his mouth

“yeah” he said as he smiled and kissed you again

and this kiss seemed to be making up for lost time and hurt feelings because when it was over, thirty minutes had passed, you were on the counter, and both of your hair was an absolute mess

“so” you sighed “what do we do now?”

“well...” he took a step back a looked around the messy kitchen “we could clean all of this up, or ...”

“or...”

“or... i have about twelve other things in mind that are way more fun and involve far less clothes”

he looked at you with his hand stretched out with expecting eyes, waiting for an answer

“i think i like option two” you giggled as you let him pull you into his bedroom, and with that the mess in the kitchen was long forgotten

[krreader]

BTS reacting to you always forgiving them → the aftermath.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: some boys don’t have a happy ending. genre: fluff ; angst ; hints of smut previous: x

a/n: I think I might have gotten over 10 requests to make a part 2 for this (but I obviously won’t post all of them on here, bc boy, just no hahaha). anyways, as I’ve said above, not all of the boys get a happy ending, just because the scenarios I’ve written for some before didn’t really fit one, so keep that in mind when reading please. if you’re okay with that and if you want to cry, go on and enjoy :’)

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kim seokjin

It was only two weeks after your breakdown that you came home from work and found the entire apartment littered with candles and rose petals. For a second you thought somebody had broken in and it literally took you five minutes to remember that you did actually have a boyfriend. You just weren't used to these things from him anymore.

But it seemed like your 6 hour talk had finally done some good and Seokjin had decided that he needed to change things, or you would leave.

You stood in the living room when he approached you with a soft smile, “Hey..”

“I.. don't understand?”

“You were right,” he grabbed your bag and your coat out of your hands and put both on the couch, “Me putting you last, when you should have been first was not fair. And I can count myself lucky that you are so forgiving, because I know that a lot of others would have left. But.. I want to make up for it. And I thought this was a good start,” he grabbed your hand and gently pulled you with him to your bathroom, where he had run a bath for you. Your nose was filled with various sweet scents, your entire body relaxing almost instantly and again rose petals and candles all over the floor and edges of the bathtub.

“Jin,” you breathed out as your eyes widened, the flames of the candles reflecting in your eyes.

“This is your night.. Take a bath for as long as you want, I'll make you dinner in the meantime and then I can give you a massage.”

“A massage with a happy ending?” you giggled as you turned towards him.

You honestly couldn't remember the last time you so much as touched each other more than hugging. And from the way the smile spread on his face, he seemed to have had the same idea in mind.

“I told you.. this is your night, so you decide what to do. But for now,” he grabbed a bathrobe and handed it to you, “Take that bath, or the water is going to run cold.”

And with a kiss against your nose, he left the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Yes, he hurt you badly and yes, you had been on the verge of finally ending it, but you were glad that he came to his senses.. you were glad that he finally realized how important you were to him and that he was showing it to you like this.

min yoongi

He should have been more careful or not as stupid as he had been in the first place. You might be forgiving, you might love him for the rest of your life, but even you had your limits. And Yoongi should have known that having the audacity to bring his affair home, into that same home that his son was living at, would be the end of his marriage.

He easily could have won the custody battle, if he had wanted sole custody of Dohyun, but he knew that, one, his son needed you more than him and two, it was his fault that this marriage ended after all and he wouldn't take your child away from you. He was an asshole, but not that kind of asshole. He had hurt you enough..

And so here he was, one year later, sitting in his new and lonely apartment without his beautiful son running around laughing.. without seeing you smile when Yoongi did something stupid again. He was alone and it was all his fault.. because for some fucked up reason, he forgot that you had been the best thing that ever happened to him. You gave him his son and the love he always wanted.. and he tossed both your love and his family away for screwing younger girls..

It was close to midnight when he looked at his watch and without really knowing why (even though he did, because he missed you and his son), he got up from the couch and grabbed his car keys, driving to the place he had once called home.

To his surprise, the lights were still on, but Dohyun would probably be asleep. So instead of ringing the bell, he knocked twice.

It took you a while, but when you opened up, he couldn't help but let out that breath he had been holding.

Were you always this beautiful? Yeah.. yeah you were. He just stopped looking at you for some reason. How could he have done that? 

“Yoongi?”

“I know it's late.. I just.. uh,” yeah, what did he want? “Can I give him a kiss? I'll be gone in five, I promise.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, letting out a sigh a moment later, before stepping aside. Because no matter how much he broke your heart, he was still the father of your kid and you still wanted him to be in his life.

Yoongi muttered a low thank you, as he passed you and immediately walked into his son's bedroom. That same bedroom that he had painted with his hyungs when you had told him you were pregnant. That same bedroom that he spent countless of nights holding a crying baby in his arms..

Careful, as to not to wake him, he sat down beside him, pulling the blanket a little higher and leaning down to kiss his sleeping son's forehead.

“Hey buddy.. it's dad,” he let his thumb brush over his cheek, “I'm sorry I didn't tuck you in, but I'm sure mom did a good job of it,” for a moment he stopped talking and just looked at him, realizing that he would miss so much of his life, just because he made the biggest mistake of his life, “I'm not sure if you understand it all yet, but when you're going to be older, you're going to find out what I did.. and why I'm not with you two anymore. And I know that you're going to hate me for it.. for hurting your mother. And you have every right to do so, because trust me, I hate myself for it. But.. no matter what happens, Dohyun, I'm always going to be your father and I'm always going to be there, even if you feel like I'm not. I'm always going to love you..”

And before you'd do something stupid, like give in once again because despite all, you still loved him, you walked away from the door and back down into the living room, wiping the tears away.

The wound was still fresh.. but maybe, one day, you'd be able to look at him without feeling your heart breaking all over again.

jung hoseok

Hoseok had texted you thirty minutes ago, whether he could stop by. That was the first thing that was unusual, because usually he just did.

You told him yes, had taken a shower and were now already waiting in nice underwear, because you knew there was only one reason he'd stop by at this point.

But when you opened the door, you were surprised to be greeted by a smiling Hobi, holding up two plastic bags.

“I brought food!”

“Food?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he let himself in, kissing your cheek before walking into the kitchen, “That’s the thing that you eat.”

For a moment you just stood there baffled, then you followed him and looked at him with raised eyebrows, “I know that.. I just don't know why you're bringing food.”

“Because you're my girlfriend and I want to have dinner with you,” he looked up when you didn't reply and could see that you were confused. That alone was like a punch in the face. How could he have treated you like a whore these past months, when you deserved so much more? He let out a sigh and walked over to you, letting his hands brush down from your elbows, until they could wrap themselves around your own, “I know it hasn't been great between us and I know that most of it is my fault.. but I want to make an effort. I want to show you that you're more to me. I never wanted to make you feel like you were some toy for me. Because that's not what you are.”

A small smile spread on your face, before you looked down at your hands, “I'll change into your hoodie and some leggings then..”

“Please do,” he kissed your forehead and watched you go, before he continued taking out the food.

Crying was often the hardest thing, because you often felt like you were showing weakness that way. But when you broke down the last time he was here, it seemed like something had finally snapped in him.. so yeah, maybe crying wasn't so bad every once in a while, because it reveals how we really feel. And the people we love most should know about that, so they can help or change things..

kim namjoon

He had felt so bad after the last time that you and him had been together, that he finally decided to break things off, breaking your heart even more in the process. But he knew it wasn't fair using you for sex, when he knew you had feelings for him that he couldn't reciprocate.

However, when he ran into you four months after the 'break-up' (even though you probably couldn't call it that, since you were only fuck buddies), he couldn't help his jaw dropping to the floor at how good you looked.

You had clearly worked out, had gotten a new hairstyle and looked.. fuck, you looked amazing?

“Namjoon?” you cocked your head to the side as he was still staring at you, “You okay there?”

“Uh,” he quickly shook his head, blinking a couple of times before he tried laughing it off, “Yeah.. yeah, you just.. you look really good, (Y/N).”

“Thanks,” you looked down at yourself, “I feel really good too..”

“You.. you do?”

“Yeah,” you smiled happily, “You breaking things off between us was the best thing you ever could have done.. I finally started appreciating myself more and started realizing that I'm worth more than you made me feel.”

That.. uhm.. ouch?

“I'm glad to hear that,” he didn't really know what else to say to that.

“Anyways, I've got to go to work. Take care, Namjoon. And try not to get an STD,” you winked, as you patted his arm, before walking out of the store.

And all that was going on inside his head was his band members singing: Mic Drop.

He deserved that one.

park jimin

You were at the wedding of one of Jimin's band members. Everyone was laughing and celebrating, enjoying the night with a shit ton of alcohol.

Well.. all but one.

Because there he was, your husband being the only one that didn't drink and instead sat alone at the table with your daughter on his lap and playing with her.

You smiled happily as you walked over to them and pressed a kiss against his cheek, “Here.. orange juice.”

“Thaaank you,” he sing-sang and took a sip, before returning his attention to Alice.

You had thought he would one day drink less, maybe have it more under control, but it seemed like that night, when you told him you didn't want him around his own daughter when he was always like this.. it seemed like he realized what he was doing.

He didn't want to be a drunk. Especially not when he should be a good father. And a drunk + father? That combination did not work.

So within that day, he decided to completely lay off of alcohol.

Forever.

And he didn't miss it. He didn't care, because he had you and his daughter and that was all he needed in life. 

He was just glad you stuck around long enough for him to change.

“I love you,” you whispered, as you brushed over the back of his head.

“I love you too, Jagi,” he leaned over, just for a quick kiss, but Alice immediately threw a tantrum, wanting her daddy all for herself.

Well, you could understand that.

kim taehyung

This was his last chance.

If he didn't appreciate you tonight, you'd pack your things and leave.

He was at this award show tonight, well, more specifically, the after-party and you had managed to get an invite, after having used his phone (which, to be fair, you shouldn't have, but you knew he never would have gotten you one on his own) to contact a couple of people that could get you in.

So here you were, dressed up to the brim, literally looking like a queen, but somehow still not matching up to all the idols around you.

You were feeling uncomfortable, as your eyes wandered, hoping to see the only familiar face you knew in here.

And you did..

..but he didn't look happy.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed, grabbing your arm. But somehow, he was looking more worried than angry..

“Since you never invite me to these things, I thought I'd do it for you.”

“No, no, listen, you need to leave, please trust me.. if..-”

But it was too late, because suddenly all of his band members were right there, their girlfriends in tow. You know, actresses, idols, models. And then there was you.

“Who's that?” one of the girls laughed, “A fan?”

Taehyung's eyes were begging you to leave, but you smiled at her and grabbed his hand, “I'm his girlfriend, actually.”

And then they all laughed.

And you know, not in a good way, but in a way that it made you feel so fucking awful about yourself. And it wasn't even Bangtan that laughed, it was just the girls, because somehow all of them felt like they were better than you.

“Where did you pick her up? Walmart?” or “I guess she must have her talents..” came out of their mouths and your vision was already becoming blurry because of the tears.

“Please stop this,” Tae stood in front of you, trying to find your hand, but you were already turning around and leaving, “(Y/N), wait!”

But you didn't. Walking turned into running and you did that until you were outside, the cold air clashing against you and drying the tears that were uncontrollably running out of your eyes.

It was only there that he got a hold of you and pulled you towards him, apologizing over and over again and telling you not to listen to what they were saying.

“This is the reason I never wanted you to come with me.. not because I'm embarrassed, not because I don't think you're worth it, but because I knew this would happen. Because they think they're all high and mighty and think everyone that isn't rich and famous is beneath them. But I don't care, (Y/N),” he leaned back and grabbed your face, looking straight into your eyes, “I love you for who you are.. and I'm sorry you felt like I was embarrassed by you, it's just.. I wanted to protect you.”

You believed him, I mean, after having encountered them, it was clear what he was trying to protect you from.

But you still fell against his chest again and cried some more. Maybe because of these girls, maybe because you just loved him so much and he just made it clear how much he loved you in return, making your anxieties slowly fading away.

jeon jeongguk

“What are you doing?” Jin asked as he sat down next to him on the couch.

“Huh?” he quickly hid his phone, “Nothing..”

“Sure? Because that looked a lot like a picture of (Y/N).”

For a couple of seconds, Jeongguk just blinked, before giving up and showing it to him, “I just miss her, I guess..”

“It's been more than a year, Kookie..”

“And I'm scared that I'm always going to miss her.”

“Have you tried calling her?”

“No.. she had a point, after all. If IU had asked, I would have run to her without even saying goodbye to (Y/N). It wasn't fair of me to treat her like that..”

“Maybe,” Jin took another look at the picture, “But what you're doing now? Looking at pictures of her? That's what you used to do with IU. And I haven't seen you looking at any pictures of her lately.”

“I deleted them all.. I.. I want pictures of (Y/N) to be the only pictures of girls I have on my phone.”

“Okay answer with the first thing that comes to your mind,” Jin always tried to give good advice, feeling like it was his job in this band, “If you had your birthday party and we somehow managed to get both IU and (Y/N) to spend that day with you. Which one would you choose?”

“(Y/N),” he said without thinking twice.

“Then you have your answer,” he smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, “It's what she always said, isn't it? She'd always forgive you. At least now she has a reason to, because it seems like you finally realized who you really love..”

Jin was right. IU had been a stupid boy crush, but you had been by his side through some of the hardest times of his life. 

He wanted you back..

..and he'd do whatever it takes for it to happen.

[universal-kitty]

.: NatsuShio: The OC/Canon Ship That Ruined My Life :.

(In the Best Way)

@supernatural-cat98, get buckled in.

   Let’s start with how I started. An Okami OC.

   Her name is Shiori, but her full name is Shiorigami, a brush kami OC for the game Okami. Once an adoptable from DeviantArt, I made her into a fully-fleshed out character fit for the game. Sure, she’s an usual hybrid (nekotori; cat body, but with tail feathers like a small peacock), but she’s the kami of Poems and Literature. She’s got social anxiety and a thinly veiled reference to autism, as she is stunted to everyone, including her extensive family...but writing is where she blooms.

   Fiction, biographies, history, poems of all kinds... If it’s writing, she’s happy. It protects her and makes her happy, even when she fears she isn’t a good enough brush kami. Even if her powers are an inky echo of her mother’s.

   She once had short hair. She once loved a Lunarian named Kazuki... A scholar of the Moon Tribe, during a period of tension and war between his people and the Celestials... Shiori’s people. Despite it all, they truly did love each other, despite never admitting it out loud. He was gifted a scroll of poems he inspired her to write. He gave her a golden necklace- almost collar-like- with the symbol of the Moon Tribe engraved on the back.

   ...He would end up dying in a slaughter done by the evil the Moon Tribe had summoned. Those who fled to the mortal world to escape the war becoming the only survivors. Kazuki was gone...and left Shiori not only with a deep depression, but also with a fear to care for anyone who was mortal.

   Who could die and be ripped from her grasp, just like Kazuki had.

   Her hair grew out over the years (faceclaim: Suiren Shibazeki from Hibi Chouchou), protected by her mother to ease her pain of the death of the one she loved most...and in the years after the events of Okami, would stay either in her room on the Celestial Plain or occasionally live on the mortal world, in a small house to herself among a forest not too far from Ryoshima Coast.

   And so. It would be this starting point for a fateful meeting...

   Natsu Dragneel. Specifically, burningheartdragneel, my roleplay partner. (To my Shio, @goddessof-poems.) He met Amaterasu first, having somehow...gotten himself a little universe-lost. Befriending her was easy; both liking to fight, both loving to eat... It was easy for them.

   Yet he poses an interesting challenge for sweet, quiet Shiori. Little bookworm, easily forgets to eat at all, and isn’t much one for the adventuring scene, like her mother or Natsu.

   ...However, it’s because of her Natsu learns the joys of reading; specifically, an adventurous story of fiction Shiori had written some time before. He makes a small, but decent meal for the forgetful Shiori, ensuring she eats...and even motivates her to get out of her home, taking him to show off Ryoshima Coast and her own Water Tablet that Amaterasu gifted her.

   It’s our current roleplay and a still on-going one, but we came up with so much more as we talked over Discord. They will slow burn their way, but us? We know how the path goes....and we ended up falling in love with a pairing of our own creation.

ExoticGeneral: Ah gods I love this! Especially since Shiori isn't the kind to stop her work to eat or anything Natsu would at some point bring snacks with him and probably feed her (and he hardly likes sharing either) because somebodies is gonna have to be watching over her. But if he woke up with her all beside him, he'd be pretty flustered about it. Plus as an added bonus he always oddly warm, which makes for good cuddling in the winter/chilly days. :3c Yeah, he'd probably be more careful with her because even if she is a brush good she's just so fragile. He'd probably bond with her relatively easy though since he's always been a cat kinda guy? But yeah, demon hunting would be a big no-no while she was around. No need to try and scare her away. But I thought about that heat headcanon thing would be funny cause I can't see either making the first move ever! xD

Aki: Oh gosh, yeah. Shiori's the type for "skinny love" situations, where it's almost painfully obvious she loves the person, but if nobody acts on it, then it's this firm stalemate. Tbh, she'd likely only "confess" if he got really hurt and she was scared for him....but even then, it's confusing for the oblivious bc-?? Was that a confession? What if it wasn't????

ExoticGeneral: But god a confession like that would be hilarious cause it might just go over his head! He'd probably just grin like an idiot, being all like 'Thanks that means a lot' and playing it off as completely platonic possibly. He may be bold in everything else, but love is something he's actually insecure about considering his first girlfriend died, his mom, like three of his dads and his brother wants to murder him.

Aki: Ommmmggggg. She'd probably laugh a little and keep trying to tell herself it's better this way, bc like...... (And this is what kills me) She'd rather have a friend in him than nothing at all bc of rejection so she'd start spiraling down and try to keep upbeat even though she keeps thinking about it and getting guilty bc what if he only wants them to be friends???? What if he didn't like romance at all?? She doesn't want to push him away from her..... She'd rather suffer years of not having him love her back then lose him. (And re-reading this..... Ouch on the death of the first girlfriend. Shiori knows that pain.... Except slightly more painful that she also never confessed to the guy and lost him to the slaughter of the Moon Tribe.)

ExoticGeneral: AKI DONT They'd both end up suffering because they're shy potatoes who can't convey their feelings properly for the life of them! It wouldn't even get better cause she'd only start going down hill after a while and he'd more than likely notice but not realize he's the problem in a way and FUUUUUUCCCKKKK

Aki: HAHAHAHAHAA, YOU'RE TOO LATE; MY POWERS HAVE BEEN REALIZED She'd actually manage pretty well for awhile, being oblivious, but then the feelings would start and that very emotion would be her downfall. Because then what are you supposed to do when you want to hug your "friend" for no apparent reason and just...stay there? That you wouldn't mind if he stayed over all the time and got to sleep with him, because that's when the nightmares kept away from her? (And even if they did show up, he was there to comfort her...) She's an absolutely wreck after awhile and keeps spacing out and begins to screw up and she's like a black hole collapsing in on itself and it hurts so bad to watch

ExoticGeneral: STAHP YOURE HURTING MY SHIPPER HEART BEFORE THE SHIP ACTUALLY EXISTS That blackhole though, like how do you even fix that??? Because the closer you get to her the more it's probably hurting her and you could confess but getting closer is what caused it to progress. HOW DO YOU PROTECT YOUR SHIT WHEN YOU'RE THE PROBLEM!?!? Your making me emotional and it's only like 8 in the morning, I don't want to start my day sad already!

Aki: Shiori finally breaking down in front of Natsu though. Like, it was a little trip over a tree root or something and she says, "O-oh, n-no, I'm fine...." But Natsu's just-??? No you're not, you're crying. Why are you crying? What hurts?? And from there she starts bawling and Natsu is awkward but tries his best. He also has little to no idea what she's saying pass those sobs of hers, but oUCH PAIN EVERYWHERE. Then- awhoop- right out of that sobbing mess comes a pretty clear confession, whoo boy--

ExoticGeneral: But HOLY SHIT when a confession happens he'd get flustered. To the point of constant figgeting and just a permanent blush would cover his face. He'd probably end up staying silent, then just start crying and fuck me up. The first confession of his life??? hE WAS NOT READY FOR THIS BUT IS TOTALLY ACCEPTING OF THIS! She'd get to see an entirely new spectrum of him though when he gets all soft-hearted and actually reveals his romantic side???

Aki: Shiori's equally as flustered and waiting to please just collapse in on herself and cease existance....and then once she realized she didn't fuck things up, she's crying with him and so much affection????? Oh no, the cutes. Cutes everywhere. Also Shiori is a huge sap and she's going to love that. But now he has to deal with his cute new goddess gf blushing whenever he smooches even just her cheek. Or holds her hand. Or snuggles up to her..... When he breathes LMAO, Jk...~

ExoticGeneral: THem crying together. THat thought just gives me life cause they're just two mushy emotional destroyed people atm. Just I don't even know who would actually recover first at that point, maybe Natsu, and just give her the longest most affectionate hug he's got in him. This relationship ain't gonna last long, give it like a week and he'll probably die from a cute overload. He'd try to pamper her a bit (though he wouldn't know how really) and just take her out to star gaze and do some silly things. But holding hands??? Like that's really lewd ya know.

Aki: Yeeeaaaahhh, he probably would. Shiori's trying to calm down, but those silly tears won't stop~ But she'll still snuggle close when he hugs her and hug him back. AH. AAAAAAHHHHHH. Natsu coming back to her place after that little event and suddenly, her new greeting is, "Welcome home," with a bright smile. Natsu kneels tf over bc cHRIST DID HE JUST HAVE A HEARTATTACK?!?!?!??

   Oh yes. We had a LENGTHY talk about their confession... But is that all? Of course not!! We’ve also had conversations about...

   Sleeping habits:

Aki: Oh man, and if she woke up to that racing heart of his.... All sleepy and concerned and it's right out of a romance novel and someone help Natsu bc death is rapidly approaching

ExoticGeneral: And the thing is that's one of his quirks. Like his way of saying 'I think I like you' IS sleeping at there house a lot more often. TO the point where it's just an everyday exerpeince and it's only weird if he DOESN'T show up one night.

Aki: !!!! Natsu being late one night and he's surprised bc it's late as fuck but there's Shiori, obviously tired and ready for bed, but unable to sleep because she'd gotten used to sleeping with Natsu and his warmth. (He has to pull confidence and fake cheer before he's allowed to start dying in the darkness of her room; that was so fuckin' cute and she was holding onto that little cat plush and she looked so lonely jfc whAT THE FUCK that level of cute is illegal in all the states and all of the worlds and timelines, bYE)

ExoticGeneral: But I can totally see that! He just kinda pushes open her door and it's like 2 in the fucking morning. The conflicted feelings he must have though knowing that when he walks in there he's gonna suffer for a few hours or more but is like 'fuck ing worth it.'  (She needs to tone it down because if the guy who lives to fight wants to SNUGGLE then there's a problem. No one man, goddess or not, should be allowed to have so much power!)

Aki: She's just more than happy to see him bc dang it, she couldn't sleep without him...and the second she's comfy and curled up against him? Boop. Out like a light. (Plot twist: her real power is being cute as hell. Her cuteness so strong, who needs weaponry?? Flutter those lashes, tilt her head... If she has the ears and feather tails out? B y e. You're dead now. Sorry, don't make the rules.)

ExoticGeneral: JEEz THOUGH! Not being able to sleep without him! Now all of a sudden he becomes like a necessity for a proper nights sleep, or any at all really. (But that's one way to competely get to him. Sexy? Pfffft, he can ignore that most of the time. Cute, fucking slay him okay? Just 'Here lies Natsu, rest in pieces' and fuck she's a cutie!)

Aki: I mean.... He could be a mean little one and let her pass out once it becomes too much, but there's also the huge implication that Natsu actually sorta gets her on a sleep schedule?? Something she usually doesn't have at all???? When Natsu's getting snuggled up in the futon, it basically becomes a sign of, "Oh, time to stop for today and sleep." Reverse alarm clock, Natsu is. Getting a certain poetry goddess to bed rather than waking her up (or keeping her up, as is). (Shiori perfected the cute ability. Cute traits that'd be passed down for generations. Flirting-but-not-flirting, the ultimate technique. How will poor Natsu ever survive?!?)

   Dinners with Mom Amaterasu:

Aki: Meet the parents? More like, "Forget that formal stuff! Let's go out and eat dessert before dinner!!!!" Because Ammy doesn't really do formal anymore and why not just....use the time for the better?? Like eating???? Not to mention, then she can embarrass the two like, "Now you gotta feed each other. Do it, do it, do it~!!" Ammy is a gr8 mom, as you can tell

ExoticGeneral: Well I don't think it could happen. I think Ammy and natsu met because he tried pelting her with water ballons. There is no need to be formal after that! But I can see Ammy rigging everything somehow. Just like ordering milkshakes for all three but 'accidentally' forgets one so she gets a whole one while Natsu and shiori share. with coincidentally two staws.

Aki: "Hmmmm, would you look at that.... Strange." Casually drinks at her own like NBD--  And that's true!!! No formality exists here; there's only the two dorks and the shy poet, who's more than happy to be the little side-line cheerleader for their antics. (Unless they're questionable. Then she's worried and trying to get them off of the idea. Probably crit. hits Natsu by being cute.)

  The time I almost wrote in our RP that Shiori was gonna kiss his cheek....and they’re not even CLOSE to dating, oh boy:

Aki: .....It suddenly occurs to me that I want an aesthetic made of NatsuShio.............

ExoticGeneral: I'm laughing. This isn't a pairing (Yet) and you're like grabby hands

Aki: Hey. Hey. Compare this to the time I almost wrote in Shio kissing Natsu's cheek waaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy too early, and a little aesthetic ain't that bad~

ExoticGeneral: You know if you had wrote that slip up I would have went along with it too. It would have been a hilarious mess.

Aki: LMAO. Even Shiori would be confused like, "......I have never before in my LIFE ever done that.... Why did I do that now?!?" This is the Sims and I am the tru god and their lives are my pLAYTHINGS

ExoticGeneral: He would have stopped everything for a solid 5 minutes then continue like it didn't happen. If you don't react it's like it never happened, right? I mean that's how we do it anyways. We make them suffer cause it's fun

Aki: Plot twist, though...... Isn't even freezing considered a reaction?! So by freezing he thinks he didn't react, but the act of freezing up is a reaction in itself......!! YOU'VE BEEN PLAYED, NATSU!!! They aren't suffering yet, buuuuut..... All in due time

   Memes, of course:

ExoticGeneral: Ammy: So do you and Shio call each other pet names? Natsu: Pfffft! No! Of course not! Ammy: What do bees make then? Natsu:....Honey? Shio, from the other room: Yeah, sweetie? Ammy: Don't you ever lie to my face again.

Aki: tHIS WOULD HAPPEN, F U CK-- I AM LOSING IT

   And the moment we acknowledged how we know this ship was The One; our OTP forever and always: (featuring the best rant I’ve ever written for this ship)

ExoticGeneral: It's literally freaking insane how you just start having ten billions of ideas running through you're head! Like okay time to put then through some angst hell, then recovery fluff, little slice of life, smooches and some bonding/ development??? Like Im getting way too far ahead of myself here??? But the ideas/drabbles keep on rolling anyway. This is how you know this is the one.

Aki: Yes!!! And like.... Honestly, I pride myself on doing "realistic" stuff? Having my characters contradict themselves sometimes, do something that would hurt....cause humans are like that. Hell, it's why I also brazenly went for Shiori's emotional breakdown when she heard the news that all Lunarians had died..... Including her dear Kazuki.  Being able to imagine and know how that breakdown went in my head, where nothing she tried worked, until she went crawling back to her mother to grant her wish to not exist...take the pain away......  Boi. B o i. When it comes to big time storywriting, I get hELLA AMPED. I'm ready to show them every corner of the world, good or bad. Perfection or deep flaws. Give me that angst where they will realize that it hurts, but having someone to hurt with makes the pain ease a little. It doesn't fix everything, but having those assuring words and someone who cares deeply makes it harder to be upset. Let them have those slice of life days where Shiori wakes up in bed for once, stomach not aching or feeling like a void, and ready to start a new day. Have him drag her out to explore and shake up her old, rigid life. Let them, in the future, kiss and hug and wonder why....but know that if waiting so long meant finding love and getting it this right, then it was worth the wait. Let them develop so much, that we look back to where we started and cackle with joy, cause they friggen made it. Wow, a sappy rant from me, yEEHAW

ExoticGeneral: Damn right sister! Preach it! Like sometimes I just sit there with some bsckground music on and its so fitting that you just throw out 20 paragraphs like no problem. I just need those days with them where they argue over something little and it gets so blown out of proprtion and convoluted that they just forget what is was about? Just random nights of stargazing then falling asleep? Or literally doing nothing and either of them thinks of their s/o and gets super flustered for no reason? The day they actually become a couple but still trains his tush off and shio doesnt ask how he got strong, but why he did cause heckie is that gonna be one wild ride of a story. But the simple, final answer is to  protect her. Not because she's the daughter of Ammy, but because he failed to do so with his dad and elder brother and doesn't want to lose her too. Like I want weakness that comes with trust? Fear that comes with love? But also the fulfilling satisfaction of contentness. That you wouldn't trade this for anything else, its a unique feeling that only they can deliver. Ya feel?

Aki: Right??? Good heavens, mention music and now I need to go look up Shio's number one mood music........ Can't think Shio romance (especially where it's "skinny love") without remembering the song, sO-- Right?? Well, more likely her trying to fight back but she angry cries and just gets frustrated and shuts down. Won't talk. Won't feed the flames anymore with replies, but doesn't seek peace, either. It's a night where it alternates between dead silence in the home once more or quiet, strained sobs of someone who's already used to being hurt; she's just finding it harder to keep that pain quiet.    But it's..... It's home. More than it's ever been. From a family she couldn't quite connect with some days, to her own home all to herself... A place her own and where her life fit.    Last thing she would've ever expected is to find- in many ways- her opposite....and yet someone she'd find herself falling for all the same. Where it's funny to imagine her home used to be quiet and peaceful. Now there's some training dummies outside and even if he strays from home, she can hear him making noises out not too far away. There's footsteps of another person in her home now. This home....it's his home, too.    Something they're both happy to have. Company, understanding, and just.... An imbalance that makes it a balance by not being perfect.    She slows him down. He speeds her up.    They learn something from each other.    It hurts sometimes. His life will likely be long....but to what length? Will it end? Does she want to know? Should she ask?    And understanding what her mother saw in mortals from that.... Just because they cannot match in eternal age, doesn't make it all any less. The memories shared? Still memories made. Love was still had and wasn't it sweet? To love someone so completely, to have fought and made up, loved and lost...    It's scarier when it's you who can be hurt; this isn't watching someone's life play out like a movie. This is her life now and his and theirs together and it breaks her heart to know she could potentially lose him, but..... He's going to teach her so much. And she would understand what her mother does.    He'll be loved all the more for it.

ExoticGeneral: I literally have absolutely no words for this. I cant believe you would make me cry like this at midnight. This was the most hurtful, true, heartfelt yet heartbreaking thing I've read. I freaking forgot you did poetry is you spare time like holy.

   ...They just. Work together. It’s the perfect “opposites attract” relationship while still maintaining a balance between who they are alone and what their relationship is. The bolster of inspiration and motivation that they get from each other... He motivates her to leave the house more (often with him on a little adventure) and gives her that experience. As said, she slows him down and gets him to read more. Even try writing for himself, writing Shiori a small poem that he [slams down onto her desk and runs off in a hurry] gives her.

   Broadening their horizons with each other. The support and pure affection and how they do their best in their own ways to support each other... It’s perfect. Made a home in our hearts. And we sure wouldn’t want it any other way.

   As a final note... Have one more silly little meme we came up with:

Aki: So I'm re-reading our chat [again] and I just thought of this...... Natsu: I live to fight, so Imma take you down!!! Shiori, in her sleepy-whiny voice: Natsuuuu...... I wanna cuddle.... Natsu, already leaving: .......Someone else lives to fight and will take you down!!!

ExoticGeneral: You know that old saying goes, he who runs away lives to fight another day I'm glad I'm the only who just goes back and re-reads this entire message board of gross romance and heartbreak

   So yes, ship NatsuShio. Your heart will thank you...after it dies for 2 hours because of the angst that tails this ship in bittersweet flavors.

[dvilshaircut]

( benjamin wadsworth + cis male + he/him ) / who’s that rustling through the trees? oh, it’s just you, HECTOR IBÁÑEZ. i happen to know that you’re a TWENTY TWO year old GROUNDSKEEPER at the LAKE CRESCENT CAMPGROUND. while you’re from TULSA, OKLAHOMA, you’re currently living in the REDWOOD APARTMENTS. i think that you’re CHARMING & ADAPTIVE  but my mama says you’re  HEDONISTIC & DISHONEST. is that FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHT by BEASTIE BOYS currently playing on your spotify? well, turn it down please, you’re disrupting the peace. ( admin velouria + 25 + she/her + est )

hey i’m velouria!! i’m so happy y’all are here and i’m ready to get things going! this is my first child and first up, hector is a bad person. he is a bad, bad, bad, terrible, horny person. don’t think he’s good at all bc he’s not and i hate him and you should hate him too.

born in tulsa, oklahoma on november 10th, 1996, hector, surprisingly, came from the most normal suburban beginnings you could imagine. he had two parents, an older sister, dog, cat, and a hamster. he was a rather normal child, though he had a wild independent streak that only got worse as he aged. didn’t play very well with others and would only play simon says if he got to be simon, but was friendly and jovial with those he liked.

stubborn as a mule, hector was fiercely independent and increasingly selfish. by the time middle school came around, hector created a hierarchy within his group of friends and became a bully around his school, though was more pushy than outright cruel. a very rowdy teen, hector never took anything very seriously and didn’t form attachments in a healthy sort of way, something that’s only worse instead of better now. 

while he liked his family well enough, he never felt a strong bond with them. they loved him very much and would try to foster a healthy, loving relationship with him, he was like #nah and spent most of his time out of the house, never telling them what he was doing and where he was going. his father and sister gave up on him, but his mother still held out hope that it was just an incredibly long phase.

barely showing up to school even when it was mandatory, hector’s primary focus was on having a good time. that meant sex, drugs, and copious amounts of partying. scaring little old ladies, taking cars on joyrides. a petty criminal by the age of fifteen, hector hasn’t been in trouble with the law very often, but it’s really only a matter of time before he gets more severe.

his parents didn’t have a chance to kick him out or send him to military school because he straight up bounced by the time he was seventeen. he left one day to a friend’s house and just didn’t come back. hector didn’t stay around tulsa for very long after that, drifting all over the southwestern states, most notably in reno, nevada in his late teens.

out on his own, or rather couch surfing with like-minded individuals, hector got to experience the highest points of pleasure and pain. a full blown hedonist, the only thing that mattered (and matters) to hector was fucking, fighting, stealing, and getting high. basically if you’ve ever seen the movie hellraiser, hector is frank.

though he hung around reno the most, around two years, hector doesn’t like to stick around often. even when he was situated in places like reno, he often leaves without word to anyone and shows up again like a neighborhood stray cat.

which brings him to crescent lake. pretty much run out of reno for his terrible treatment of others and his criminal activity, hector traveled all over california before settling in crescent lake. though he didn’t really need to, he’s been laying low for just over a year now. he first took up residence at the camping grounds for a few weeks before he ran out of money and got a job at the resort as a groundskeeper to pay off his bill. it’s hard work but sometimes you gotta work a little so you can ball a lot. now he lives at the redwood with two roommates.

his debt is paid but hector likes it in crescent lake. it’s small but new people come through all the time, so he hasn’t gotten bored yet. plus he likes to be a big fish in a little pond, he can use people and control them better that way. he basically just coasts on his charm and curly hair.

the biggest thing to know abt hector is that he’s a horny dude. he’s literally always thinking about sex and the second he meets you, he’s thinking about fucking you, no matter how old you are (as long as it’s legal because gross and i would never rp that), if you’re in a relationship/married, or what gender you are. he is literally the worst.

wanted connections:

sexual partners: basically hector wants to bang everyone. if you’re up for it, he will fuck you at pretty much any time, but just know that he’s also fucking like five other people and has never been monogamous in his entire damn life.

a girlfriend: okay so i just said he’s never been monogamous but sometimes hector likes to pretend. or rather, he’s using her to get something, likely companionship when he’s bored or access to money/drugs/alcohol, whatever. a place to sleep at night. just something! she’ll probably think they’re more serious than they actually are but hector does actually like her as a person, or she’s trying to get him to be more serious/grow up.

enemies: hector is a hard person to like and an easy person to hate. he has very little regard for others and enjoys physical fighting bc it feels good. they can hate him because he screwed them over, cheated on them, cheated on their friend/sibling/whatever, stole something from them, or they just don’t like his smug face.

friends: if your muse likes to party, hector is your man. he basically just lives to have fun. however, his version of fun is kind of scary and dangerous at times. he can be a bad influence on your muse and get them into trouble or they can be a good influence on him.

a close friend/confidant: hector isn’t an emotional person but occasionally he does have moments of vulnerability. when this happens, your muse is the person he comes to when he needs someone to be there for him or needs someone to talk to. your muse could be doing this reluctantly or in hopes that he’ll be there in the same way for your muse, which isn’t very likely but hector will like to pretend lol.

 or any connection we can think up!! message me on here or discord (wanda’s loving boy#1003) if you wanna plot!

[crowned-ladybug]

Windowsill Hyacinths

And the other OC thing! Bc i promised

When is my writing not, but still, this one is just entirely self-indulgent. Writing’s fun!

OC blog is @menagerie-of-morons

Characters: Jackie, Marvin

Setting: main verse

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: periods (the unpleasant biology kind, punctuation is kind of a given I think)

These are OCs, please keep that in mind and respect it.

Neither of them are morning people. Thank goodness, otherwise Marvin doesn’t know how he could tolerate this living arrangement. But usually Jackie is still up before he is, and even though it’s only been two weeks since they moved in together, Marvin is already pleasantly used to waking up to the shower running.

Except this time he woke on his own, which is lovely for a Saturday actually. But it’s also weird, because it’s a break in an unsaid routine, and broken routine makes him anxious.

He hesitates at the door of Jackie’s room before he knocks, hoping it’s quiet enough that it doesn’t wake him if he’s just sleeping in (and Jackie either sleeps like a bear during winter or lighter than store-brand tissue paper, there’s no in-between, so his chances are still better than none at least). There’s a moment or two of silence before he gets a response – a long groan, unclear whether distressed or just too lazy to talk.

“You okay, my dude?” Marvin smiles, hoping the answer will be along the lines of ‘I just woke up and it’s too early and how dare does the Sun exist’. Instead what he gets is the most noncommital and obviously fake ‘I’m fine’ he’s ever heard in his life. “Can I come in?”

To little surprise and much more relief, he’s granted permission.

He finds Jackie curled up in his bed, forming an amorphous pile with his sheets and pillows and plushies, his disastrous bedhead and barely-open eyes just about poking out from under. He mumbles a ‘hey’ when Marvin enters, though it comes out barely audible thanks to the duvet he doesn’t bother to pull away from in front of his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Jackie just sinks deeper into his pillow and closes his eyes fully. For a moment Marvin thinks the little groan he lets out will be the only response he gets, but then he finally speaks. “Uterus bad.”

“Oh, damn,” Marvin sighs, and he finally shuts the door behind himself and makes his way over to the bed. Looks like poor Jackie’s period is hitting bad again, and it’s not surprising considering all the stress of moving just two weeks prior, but it still sucks. “Can I sit?”

Jackie just nods, and so Marvin picks up the stuffed sheep he finds fallen off the bed, and sits. Jackie fishes out one of his hands from under his mess of sheets and makes grabby hands at Marvin until he receives said sheep, and he hugs it, tucking it under his chin.

“Do you need anything.”

“A different set of reproductive organs, please...” he groans again, because that seems to be one of three things he can reliable do right now, but there’s finally some humour to his tone at least.

Marvin grins, and he’s pretty sure Jackie smiles back, though it’s hard to tell with so much in the way. “I don’t think they sell those at the grocery store.”

“Damn.”

Marvin gives a sympathetic hum and he reaches out to rub his poor, suffering friend’s shoulder. Jackie closes his eyes for a moment.

“Is there anything else you’d like then?”

“Hmm...” he opens his eyes again, and adjusts himself so that his face is less in the pillow now and more turned towards Marvin, for the sake of a better conversation experience. “I don’t know...painkillers, maybe?”

In the end that list grows to painkillers, the heating pad, a nice, warm drink and some snacks, and while he’s at it, Marvin checks if they’ve got enough pads too. Just because they moved in weeks ago, it doesn’t mean Jackie couldn’t have forgotten to bring enough in the first place.

And he’s so right. He scribbles it on the shopping list during his pass in the kitchen.

As a bonus reward from his fetch quests, he also gives Jackie a gentle lecture on how he needs to learn to ask for what he needs instead of downplaying the list to a single, easy-to-get item. It’s good that this isn’t the first period Marvin’s ever seen, but he’d very much prefer to just ask Jackie what he needs than guess it. Jackie looks sufficiently sorry, and Marvin reassures him that it’s okay, it’s just a work in progress (because the last thing he wants is to screw with the poor guy’s already messy emotions), and in the end Jackie ends up adding a new element to his list of current needs – a hug.

He’s granted that, in a kind of roundabout way, when Marvin lies down next to him (because the painkillers have yet to work their magic, and so Jackie doesn’t want to do anything but lie curled around the hot pad) and they cuddle for a while, a little clumsy and complicated, because there’s so many things on the bed to be mindful of now. But Jackie gets his craved physical affection, and he sinks back into a pleasant, half-asleep state as the pain starts to lessen, comfortable in the warmth of the hot pad and the way Marvin’s fingers slide through his hair in an imperfect rhythm. He listens to the in-depth discussions his friend has with some of his plushies, words fading in and out of the edges of his consciousness.

Marvin is grateful as all fuck for Saturdays, because that means neither of them have things to do and places to be. Jackie can stay in bed and eat comfort food as much as he wants, and Marvin can hang out with him and make sure he’s okay and also do the shopping before he forgets.

He eventually gets around to doing the latter too, traversing the thankfully not insanely crowded isles of the supermarket. He’s having a good leg day, so he only brought one crutch, and even that’s sitting in the cart now. He can hold his weight just fine for now and lean on the cart for a few moments if he can’t.

He gets regular, boring kind of groceries, like milk and bread and spices, because there’s always ones running out. Then he heads for the isle that holds sweets, most importantly chocolate-based sweets, and this time it’s not for his own pleasure. He ends up with three different kinds of chocolate piled into the cart after long, careful examination and consideration of all options. Jackie definitely deserves to treat himself to some good sweets.

He skids to a stop (fairly literally, because what sort of person would he be if he didn’t skate with the cart from time to time) at the end of the isle when he notices a selection of jars and bottles with carefully layered various powders and chocolate chips in them. He grins. Jackie loves baking, he’d surely love these funky little “cookie recipe in a bottle” thingies too. He sifts through the selection until he finds one with a nice recipe that doesn’t have pink bows, people in skirts and the last century’s ideal housewife on them, and piles it on top of the chocolate.

Pads are probably the toughest to get from the whole list. Not because he feels shame and a threat to his masculinity looking at period products, because he’s way past his “utter dumbass” phase in this regard, and if he feared for his masculinity so much, he wouldn’t wear skirts half as often. No, it’s because the one very important detail he managed to forget to jot down is the brand and make of the damn things. So now he’s faced with a whole wall of pads and racking his brain for what they looked like when he saw Jackie stash them in their own little box in the bathroom two weeks ago.

Except they all look the same – pink for day, dark blue for night – and the only differences he can spot in this visually uninteresting display are the brand names and prices.

He’d go for cheapest, but – really? It’d make sense, except who knows which of these things is actually comfortable and, like, good at its job? The price surely doesn’t. And Jackie wears boxers, do these things even work with those?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts for a moment when another person – long hair, dress, delicate make-up, all in all feminine-looking – enters the isle and gives him a look that’s...friendly? Friendly people in a supermarket, would you look at that! They’re probably pleasantly surprised by seeing someone on the more masculine end of the scale shopping for these things.

Finally, he admits his defeat and pulls out his phone to text Jackie.

But at least he gets the needed information quickly, and Jackie is sympathetic about him not remembering (“These things all look the same...” “I know, right?!”) and shoves two night and two day packs into the cart, because the particular brand is on sale anyway.

He gets off the bus a stop early to walk the rest of the way, the bag of groceries floating by his side with his magic. The weather isn’t nice just yet, and the wind that whips around him sometimes is cutting, but he enjoys a little walk. More importantly, he’s very much aware that there’s a flower shop on the way.

He stops in front of the shop, appreciating the stock through the window as he pulls out his phone, opting to call instead of text this time. He hates to ruin the surprise, but…

“Hey, did you get lost in the supermarket or something?” Jackie laughs into the speaker as soon as he picks up. It’s nice to hear that he’s feeling better now.

Marvin snorts. “Shut up. I wanted to ask how you dysphoria is doing today?”

“Pretty okay, surprisingly,” there’s rusting from the other end, Jackie adjusting his position wherever he is. “Hasn’t been bitching much yet.”

“Nice!” it is nice. He’ll definitely celebrate that. “Would it get ticked off by flowers, though?”

There’s a beat of silence as Jackie processes the unexpected question. “No, I don’t think it would. I love flowers, I’ve gotten over most of the social bullshit around them already,” he stops, then his tone shifts. “Marvin, what are you-”

“Shh, you heard nothing from me! I just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t end up making you feel worse on accident.”

Jackie refuses to hush just yet though. “Dude, I swear, if you’re buying me flowers just because my organs are back on their bullshit, I’m-”

“Listen,” Marvin cuts in, and he’s rewarded by silence immediately. “It’s my money and I can spend it however I want, so shh. As I said, you heard nothing from me,” he waits for that huff of breath that signals defeat, and laughs when he gets it. “I’ll be home soon!”

Jackie calls him an idiot as the call ends, his voice so full of fondness, and Marvin stays standing in front of the shop and just smiling to himself for another moment before he enters.

“’Elloooooo...” Marvin calls as he shuts the front door behind himself, and he hears Jackie’s goofy ‘’Allo!’ in response from somewhere. First thing’s first he calls his other crutch to himself, because his legs are tired now and he needs it, just in case, and floats his bag over into the kitchen.

He doesn’t even get to start unpacking before Jackie enters after him, perfectly upright and seemingly much more comfortable in his skin than only hours ago. He’s wrapped in a bathrobe and his hair is still dripping slightly, and he must have forgotten his glasses somewhere. Marvin already expects a wild hunt to find them again in like five minutes. But he looks good, in his lanky, dorky kind of way, and Marvin is so glad the day is going a little better for him now.

Marvin grins as he fishes out the potted hyacinth he’s bought from the bag. “Look! I brought you a new friend!”

Jackie stares for a moment too long, and his forehead gets a little scrunched up, and he’s still wearing that dorky, goofy smile on his face...and by now Marvin knows to translate that expression to “Jackie just got emotional as fuck.” He has just about half a moment to put the plant back down safely before he’s tugged forward and wrapped up in Jackie’s arms. He leans into it, and his crutches stay hovering where he let go of them. He makes sure to keep his grip on Jackie cautious, because it’s rude to squeeze someone around the middle when their organs are being disrespectful.

Jackie does squeeze him though, and it’s nice. He sounds a little choked up when he says: “Thank you.”

“Dude, it’s just a flower...”

“No, it’s,” he shakes his head, and Marvin can feel it, because it nudges closer to his. “You know I don’t just mean the flower.”

Marvin takes a moment to respond, as he presses his face into Jackie’s shoulder until he can’t breather properly. He adjusts his head, leaves his cheek resting there anyway, and he doesn’t stop smiling. “I know,” he takes a short pause and risks a very gentle squeeze. Jackie doesn’t wince. “Still, you don’t need to thank me.”

“Nope,” Jackie’s tone switches to something less deeply emotional and more dorky again, and he raises his head, though still makes no move to end the hug. He shakes his head and laughs. “Nope, we’re not doing this argument again.”

Marvin just laughs along, and shoves his face back into his best friend’s shoulder again.

[gukyi]

tutor | knj

⇒ summary: competition has always been a thing at hogwarts, but not even the house ghosts could be prepared for the volcanic explosion otherwise known as the culmination of the rivalry between you and fellow top student kim namjoon.

⇒ {hogwarts!au, enemies to lovers!au (what a shocker!)}

⇒ pairing: namjoon x female reader

⇒ word count: 11k

⇒ genre: fluff and like a very very little bit of angst? actually i don’t even think it counts. just fluff.

⇒ warnings: n/a

⇒ a/n: she’s back! it’s been actual months since i last posted part of my sorted series, rip. unsurprisingly, this is an enemies to lovers au. bc i can never stop writing them. i’m sorry that i’m not sorry. i actually have another e2l jimin au in mind. great. this is just a little twist on the typical tutor au! hope u enjoy!!

Present

Third year you would never even think about fighting Kim Namjoon. Small, lanky Kim Namjoon whose glasses are too big for his face and whose words stumble over each other.

Seventh year you can’t think about doing anything else. He makes you want to chuck a big, heavy textbook at him, one from the Restricted section that’ll bite his head right off after it hits him.

Maybe then you’ll finally get some relief from his obnoxious, egotistical, infuriating presence. But for now, you’re stuck with him, stuck in this endless fucking cycle of taunting and teasing and gloating, back and forth and back and forth, because neither of you can do anything that can risk the two of you getting expelled. Gotta love being top students with their whole potentials in front of them.

“Hey, Y/N,” his snarky voice catches your attention as he spots you working diligently in the Great Hall after school hours. You know it’s him without even looking up from your textbook, can hear the thundering footsteps of him and whatever members of his gregarious possy, but you refuse to give him the time of day like this. Namjoon always has a fantastic way of interrupting your lifestyle at the exact moment when you could do with zero distractions. “How’d you do on that essay for Binns?”

Keeping your head down, you continue to furiously scribble your notes, avoiding him at all costs, not wanting to let him have what he wants: your response. Namjoon wouldn’t be asking you about your most recent History of Magic essay unless he knew something you didn’t, had some sort of leverage on you that he gets to dangle above your head.

“Shove off, Kim,” you grumble, turning your head in the opposite direction as you feel him looming over you, leaning down by your side to boast in your face.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” he coaxes. “Won’t kill you just to say it.”

“A 97, alright, asshole? Satisfied?” You spit out, sick of Namjoon’s shit and his better grades and charming life. The Binns essay hadn’t been your best work, you’re aware of that much, especially considering you had written it while running on minimal sleep and the ever-persistent pressures of future aspirations. You know. The usual. No need for Namjoon to brag about his probable 100 in your face. You know you can do better. You have.

“Very,” Namjoon grins, shooting you his precious face with his precious dimples. God, how you wish you could smack them right off of his face and watch them fall to the floor, useless. “Especially after getting a 103 on mine.”

Namjoon even whips out the scroll to show you, as if you need further proof that he got a higher grade, bright red 103 and a smiley face right next to it at the top of his essay, staring back at you like a reflection in a broken mirror. You didn’t even know Binns gave extra credit, the fuck? You want in on some of that. You’re second in that class only to Namjoon.

“How on Earth did you manage to trick your way into Binns giving you extra credit?” You ask, appalled and personally insulted. “You don’t deserve those extra three points any more than I do.”

“Hey, maybe if you had gotten those three points instead of me, you’d actually have a chance at beating me in that class,” Namjoon singsongs, taunting you with no qualms. He never seems to have any of those whenever he’s around you. It’s a poor characteristic to have, quite frankly. He should work on that.

“Bask in that perfect score in History of Magic, Namjoon, a class that has so much relevance to current events,” you sneer back, not permitting yourself to lose to him, cave in. Even if survival meant giving up your last shred of dignity on this godforsaken Earth to him, you’d choose to die. “Really. It’s outstanding. My 100 in Transfiguration is shaking in its boots.”

“Never said this was a competition, Miss Y/N. No need to be bitter about our scores,” Namjoon says patronizingly, patting your shoulder like he’s fucking reassuring you of your self-worth after finding out that you got a slightly lower score than him on an essay. What a tool. “See you in Potions, hey? Don’t wait up.”

“Wouldn’t fucking dream of it,” you respond, heaving a sigh as you roll your eyes, turning back to your work as Namjoon and his crew’s boisterous laughter echoes throughout the Great Hall as they leave to go play practical jokes on the ghosts or make a mess in the fairgrounds or chuck Quidditch balls at each other, or something like that.

But still, even as you finish up your note-taking for the chapter and move on to another assignment from your Astronomy professor, that bright red 103 flashes in your mind, brain stuck on it because god damnit, can’t Namjoon just give you one fucking break? Does he want a fucking prize for getting a better grade than you on a single essay throughout your entire Hogwarts career?

Scratch that. He’s already got his reward, and it’s your misery.

Life goes on, but time ticks by ever so slowly as you count down the days until graduation—until you never have to see Kim Namjoon’s face in your life ever again—that even a Time Turner would move too quickly.

Fourth Year

When McGonagall hands back your tests from the day prior and you see a shining 100% at the top of your paper, you smile. Your eager eyes scan the papers of your classmates, quickly glancing down at the red ink scrawled at the top of your page, and find that you’re the only perfect score within your view.

If this had happened during first year, you’d shrug it off, call it a fluke and just assume that you knew this single topic better than the rest of your peers, you suppose, but it’s not. You’re in your fourth year already, over three years worth of Transfiguration classes under your belt, and any student in your class would be an idiot not to realize your untapped potential in the subject. School has always come easy to you but Transfiguration in and of itself is like second nature. Like a key in a padlock, it clicks.

Humble as ever, you treat your 100% casually, like it’s no big deal, because it’s not. Not when you’ve been getting 100’s in the class ever since September 2nd of your first year with minimal battle. Another day, another test, another one hundred.

“Y/N,” your friend says as she nudges your arm, resting on the desk. You snap out of your distant haze and turn to her, eyebrow raised. “Can you explain number three to me? I don’t understand it.”

“Sure,” you say, happy to help. One thing that comes along with perfect grades (whether you like it or not) is people constantly asking you for explanations, answers, definitions, seeking the right from someone who’s never wrong. Not that you’re complaining. You love to help people. “What’s up?”

“I don’t understand the theory behind the cross-species switches,” your friend continues, scratching her head and furrowing her brows as she shows you her assessment, a big red X marking number three. “Like, I understand that the spells have to be adapted, but I don’t understand how to do that.”

You glance down at her paper before quickly letting your eyes scan over your own, comparing answers as you figure out how to explain the necessity of adaptation in cross-species switches to her without sounding like a pretentious asshole. “Well, you have to consider the scenario.”

Your friend looks at you like you’ve just grown four heads.

“Um, say… say you’re trying to give a mouse cat-like qualities,” you begin, going back to one of the example scenarios that McGonagall gave you a week or so ago. “You have to adapt the spell so you don’t screw up any of the mouse’s internal organs and kill it in the process. Or even leave it stuck in the weird in-between of mouse and mouse-cat. So how are you supposed to cater to the mouse?”

“You lower the spell’s impact since the mouse is smaller than the cat?” Your friend asks, wincing and unsure.

You snap your fingers, letting them morph quickly into some finger guns as you smile. “You got it.”

“Oh,” your friend realizes, that sweet, sweet look of recognition finally washing over her face. “Oh, I get it now. Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem,” you say happily, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m always happy to help you.”

Your friend beams in response, pleased that she’s got such a loyal pal like you to always assist with tests and quizzes and homework questions whenever needed.

It’s right then that McGonagall clears her throat to grab everyone’s utmost attention, standing up behind her desk to address the class. You turn back to face her, letting your eyes scan over all of the trinkets on her desk. You swear you see a Time Turner shining in a little box as it catches the light of the sun, but maybe that’s just your imagination. Time Turners are awfully difficult to get ahold of, these days.

“I trust that all of you had enough time to review your answers on the test and assess your mistakes,” she says sternly. Ah, your favorite no-nonsense teacher. “Some of you need not worry about this section on the theory,” she says, and your cheeks heat up when she narrows her eyes at you through her rounded glasses, curling in on yourself as other people turn to look at you, unsurprised. “And some of you need to start reviewing more and paying attention to the lessons in class. Your overall class average for this assessment was abysmal. I highly recommend seeking out extra help, either from myself or from your peers, some of which could teach you this subject very well. Most of you could use the assistance.”

The bell rings.

“Class dismissed. Miss Y/L/N, come here for a moment?”

Your friend shrugs helplessly as she gathers her stuff and leaves the room, sending you a sorry smile as you approach McGonagall’s desk with caution, unsure of what she wants from you. You haven’t done anything wrong, as far as you’re aware, and you know for a fact that she isn’t concerned about whether or not you’re grasping the curriculum, so what gives?

“Professor?” You ask, turning back to see the class empty.

“You did remarkably well on this test,” she compliments, lips curling upwards into a smile. “My only perfect score.”

Your cheeks heat up again and you can feel your ears getting clammy. Even if you’re used to doing well in her class, it’s always an honor to hear her directly praising you. Really helps with the constant desire for validation as a student.

“Thank you, Professor,” you say, tipping your head slightly.

“I do hope that you’ll consider becoming a tutor for your peers,” she says as she shuffles through her papers. “I believe you’d be a fantastic help to some of the students who are struggling in this course. I saw you help your friend. You teach very well.”

You stumble over your words. “Oh, um, that was just—”

“Consider being a tutor, Y/N. Not just for this subject, but for all of them. You are an incredibly gifted individual and your help is probably much-needed around here. I could help you arrange a schedule of sorts, if you’d like. Perhaps talk to Madam Pince?”

“I don’t know, Professor, I don’t think I’m very qualified to teach other students, I mean—” You say, wracking your brain for something to say. Tutoring at Hogwarts is a big deal, honestly, especially because the courses are so vigorous and require more than just a simple explanation to comprehend. You don’t think you have the credentials to be something of an assistant to your professors.

“You are more than qualified, Miss Y/L/N. I’m willing to give you a bit of extra credit as well, for your work outside of class,” McGonagall says, and damn, she’s good. Extra credit will always get you on board. Even if you don’t need the extra points (not with your perfect grade in her class), it’s always nice to have that backup just in case you majorly screw up a test or essay or presentation. Plus, boasting about your over-100 grades every now and then to people who bother you is kind of nice. Just a little.

“When would I do it?” You ask, suddenly more intrigued in the topic.

McGonagall beams to herself, happy to see that she’s managed to bribe you into doing this, and whips out a spare scroll, scribbling down schedules and suggestions.

When she’s finished, you’re twenty minutes late to your next class (Arithmancy, so it’s not like you’re missing anything important) and have a pretty substantial list of students and faculty to speak to, as well as a thoroughly organized schedule for the next month, at least.

Your first tutoring session begins tomorrow, right after your last class at 3PM sharp in the library.

Extra credit has never tasted so sweet.

The library is always busy the second classes let out. Nobody really wants to go back to their common rooms just yet, wanting the milk the time before curfew as much as possible away from their dorms. People scramble to grab a seat at the limited amount of desks among the bookcases before some other upperclassman hexes it to claim it as theirs for the night, but you’re in no rush. Pince knows that you’re coming.

You push open the door to the library with your shoulder, scanning for the first student you’ll be tutoring, a boy from your own Transfiguration class who apparently did poorly on the most recent test. As you do, you quickly glance at the bulletin board on the wall, glowing flyers screaming at you to sign up for the latest club, try out for the Quidditch team (even though first years never make the house team), audition for the frog choir. There’s one that has no slips of paper left to tear off, but you don’t have time to inspect it any further, wonder what on Earth could be going on at this school that so many people would be desperate to sign up for, before you have to begin the session.

The boy is loitering around by the checkout desk, books clutched tightly to his chest as you catch his eye. You reach your arm out and wave, signaling to him that you’re here.

“I, um,” you begin. “This is the first time I’ve done this, so I’m really sorry if this is kind of rough.”

The kid shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’m desperate at this point. McGonagall will have my head if I fail the next test.”

You chuckle awkwardly, unable to relate but able to sympathize. “Then we should get started soon, right?”

You and the boy start to weave your way through the bookshelves, skirting through small groups of students gathering in the library to quietly gossip and books marching around by themselves, ordered to go back to their designated spot.

“McGonagall helped me set this up, actually,” you say in order to fill in the silence. “She had arranged with other teachers to coordinate and talked to Madam Pince about me formally doing this in the library, and—”

Your shoes squeak against the hardwood floor as you come to a stop in the table that McGonagall had specifically reserved for you for your tutoring, making all of the students around you wince as they turn towards the source of the noise. There’s a boy you vaguely recognize already camped out at your table, and what makes matters impossibly worse is that it looks like he’s tutoring someone too.

“Can I help you?” the boy asks as he looks up at your flabbergasted expression, a single eyebrow raised in annoyance.

“Um,” you start, unsure of how you’re supposed to deal with the situation at hand. Before you can stop yourself, you belt out a “Who are you?”

“Kim Namjoon,” the boy replies, frowning as he peers over his glasses to inspect you. He doesn’t seem very impressed, which in turn has you puffing out your chest slightly and straightening your posture. “Fourth year.”

“Well, Kim Namjoon, I—”

“Who are you?” Namjoon asks, interrupting you.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you respond, as confidently as you can muster.

“Is there a reason you’re hovering over my tutoring session, Y/N Y/L/N? If you need help with your schoolwork, you’re going to have to arrange something with me,” Namjoon says ever so rudely, making you furrow your brows in distaste.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m quite busy these days, so if you need me to tutor you in anything, you’ll have to schedule it beforehand. My apologies,” Namjoon says, clearly hoping to end the conversation and get back to whatever the hell he thinks he’s doing in your designated spot.

“I don’t need your help in anything,” you inform him matter-of-factly. “Though I do believe that you’re tutoring in my spot.”

“Your spot?” Namjoon asks, standing up with his palms pressed onto the table, doubtful look on his face. “What makes you think this table belongs to you? I don’t see your name on it.”

You’re speechless, mouth working desperately to say something in response, put whoever this kid thinks he is in his place. “Professor McGonagall had arranged that I tutor students here.”

“Sorry, Y/L/N, but you’ll have to find another spot,” Namjoon says, shrugging helplessly despite your wordless protests. “Maybe some other time.”

You can do nothing except turn to the boy standing behind you, whose eyes are wide in confusion, and smile apologetically. You glare Kim Namjoon’s way, bitter and petty and everything else a Ravenclaw should always be, and begin to search for a new place to tutor.

Kim Namjoon is someone you barely remember, left with only hazy memories of him at the sorting ceremony and perhaps in one or two of your classes during your time at Hogwarts. He’s a quiet kid, easy to overlook and disregard, because he never speaks, never raises his hand, never even looks up at people. You don’t know much about him, but you had always assumed him another harmless student who’s just letting their time at Hogwarts pass before they move onto bigger and better things.

Apparently, you were wrong.

Because now, quiet, geeky, timid Kim Namjoon has some sort of superiority complex ingrained in his mind, and it’s more than clear to you that you’ve got some competition, a sensation you’ve never had the luxury of experiencing before.

You and the boy end up camping out on the floor of the library by one of the windows, unable to find an empty table for you to do your work on. It’s out of view of whoever Kim Namjoon is and whatever he’s doing, but the only image that seems to stick in your mind as you teach this kid the theory behind cross-species switches and help him with his textbook reading is that of Namjoon’s unimpressed, judgemental face as he stares you down with his hands pressing down on your table, taking up your precious time with this stupid tutoring nonsense of his.

McGonagall never mentioned anything about another student. Especially one that’s already developed an obvious dislike for you. Not that it’s not reciprocated, or anything. Because it is.

Because this means war.

Present

As you enter the library, you quickly hex the poster on the bulletin board advertising Namjoon’s nonsense tutoring business and changing it to a picture of a couple of bright orange Kneazles, his least favorite animal. Just for good measure. You always knew Transfiguration would come in handy.

This isn’t the first time you’ve definitely tried to sabotage Namjoon’s tutoring… thing. It’s only one aspect of this ridiculously overgrown rivalry that’s settled in between the two of you. Neither of you happen to be Slytherins, but you have no problems spreading rumors and ruining each other’s posters in order to beat each other out. You don’t know how many times you’ve had to restore your posters and flyers to their original glory after seeing Namjoon deface all of them. All’s fair in love and war, except there’s no love here. It’s just war.

“Hey,” you say as you greet your tutoree of the day, a friend of a friend of yours who’s been lacking in Potions recently. She’s one of your most loyal students, not to mention the fact that the two of you both seem to share quite the dislike for a certain Kim Namjoon, making your sessions half-education parties and half-gossip fests. “Ready?”

She nods happily, and the two of you scramble to grab the last empty table before Namjoon can snatch it for himself with taunting grin on his face as he forces you elsewhere. It’s open, thank God, and you quickly take your seats so you can get down to business.

“What work do you have?” You ask, pulling out your Potions textbook and a quill.

“Uh, just some chemical problems. I have a really big Potions project that’s due next Friday, though, so I’d like to work on that, too,” she responds.

“Which you haven’t started yet, right?” You ask, an eyebrow raised.

She blushes. “You know me too well, Y/N.”

“Only because we’ve been friends for two years, already,” you shrug, taking a quick glance at her homework so you can open your textbook to some example problems that match up with the lesson.

“Listen,” she says in a much softer voice, leaning over the table to whisper in your ear. “My friend just had this awful experience with Namjoon.”

You can’t say you’re particularly surprised. You could probably count on one hand the amount of experiences that you’ve had with Namjoon that have even been somewhat bearable. “What happened?”

“You know how my friend writes in her journal, right? She’s the only kid in our year that still does.”

The girl in question rings a bell in your brain. She never lets anybody look into her journal, for obvious reasons.

“Yeah, she and that Min Yoongi kid both do,” you say, thinking of that quiet Slytherin boy you sometimes see hanging out with Namjoon and the rest of his boisterous gaggle. Every time you see them together, you wonder what on Earth could have led the universe to make them friends, because Min Yoongi seems so nice and reserved and Namjoon… well.

“Well, the other day—” the girl says as you begin to copy down the first homework problem, the answer already clear in your mind. Mental math is your best friend. That, and McGonagall. “—she spilled tea or something all over her journal and she had to lay it out on a bunch of copies of the Daily Prophet to let it dry. And then Kim just waltzes over and reads the damn thing.”

The story has you rolling your eyes in disappointment. It’s not even shocking that Namjoon has no concept of personal space nor personal belongings. After all, he’s spent the past three years vandalizing your property and breathing down your neck. But still, snooping in someone else’s private journal is rude, uncouth, and generally frowned upon. Not that Namjoon is any good at not being any of those things.

“I wish I could tell you that I’m surprised,” you say, shaking your head. “He’s always been like that.”

“Always been like what?”

You almost don’t even want to turn around to face the source of the voice, already knowing damn well who it is and why he’s there. You should have been trash talking him louder.

“We’re a little busy here, Kim,” your friend says, clearly not any happier than you in his presence.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Namjoon responds, catching a glimpse of the blank parchment in front of you, only the first problem written down, not even solved. “Should have signed up for my tutoring program, Mina. I would have had your homework done by now.”

“Because you do their work for them and they don’t learn anything,” you spit as you barge into the conversation. “You wanna know what you’ve always been like, Kim?” You ask, standing up to challenge him. Namjoon’s taller than you, always has been and always will be, but that doesn’t mean he’s any more intimidating.

“Hmm,” Namjoon says, looking up to ponder the question at hand. “Charming? Bright? Smarter than you?”

“An asshole,” you bite.

“That wasn’t anywhere near my top ten, Y/N. Your guessing game is really weak. Like you,” Namjoon comments, lips downturned.

Your hands are already curled into balls before the words leave his mouth. “You wanna see weak, Kim?” You ask, fists raised and your right hand shooting towards his chest.

Namjoon grabs it without a second thought, holding you dead in place with his hand wrapped around your knuckles, pale in anger, and he shakes his head disapprovingly. “Weak,” he whispers, staring you straight in the face. You’re shaking with fury and rage, refusing to bow down to his unforgiving gaze as you look right back into his brown eyes, twinkling with victory.

Mina places gentle hands on your upper arms, calming you down slightly as you take deep breaths, refusing to stoop any lower than you already have. By this point, any fucking dignity you have left is gone and it doesn’t even matter, because you’re a lot of things, but being ashamed of hating Namjoon isn’t one of them.

“Hope you finish your homework soon, Mina, or I might have to ask Snape tomorrow if he can double the workload, just because I don’t think that some of the kids in our class are truly grasping the lesson,” Namjoon bids the two of you goodbye, voice sickeningly sweet as he turns on his heel to leave the library. On the way out, you catch him Transfigure his poster back to its original state as the door closes behind him.

“Fucking Kim,” you mutter, body still on fire from the exchange. “I wish I could punch that fucker in the face.”

“The day we graduate, I know you will,” Mina assures you, rubbing your back as she turns her focus to the textbook problems in front of her.

You wonder what celestial body in the mass known as the universe decided to make KIm Namjoon the bane of your existence, this constant presence that you can’t get rid of, like a gnat buzzing around your head on a hot summer day. Namjoon’s no better than a damn horsefly, only every waking moment of yours is spent thinking about him, every day is a new challenge to beat him in.

There’s never a second when Kim Namjoon isn’t on your mind, and perhaps that’s the worst part of it all.

Because no matter how hard you try to get him to leave, he’ll always come back.

Fourth Year

You get over the table fiasco the day after it happens. Even though you definitely were taken aback by Kim Namjoon’s impudent behavior, you suppose it’s something you can look past if the two of you can just come to some sort of agreement and get on with your lives. No need to hold this massive grudge over a misunderstanding.

After asking around, you hear a few things about Kim Namjoon. You hear he’s good friends with that one boy who’s already in his sixth year, the good-looking one that’s most definitely going to be head boy next year. You hear that he’s also friends with some kids in the year below you, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin, one of whom is a beast at Quidditch. He’s buddies with the Herbology whiz in your grade, the one that bounces around like there’s this constant flow of sunshine running through his veins. He even knows one of the first years, a kid you’ve never heard of but everyone else has.

Kim Namjoon is apparently friends with everybody in the school, you gather as you keep hearing things about him. Nobody knew who he was last year, but this year, everybody does, and you wonder what’s changed. What turned him from wallflower to center stage?

The problem with looking past the table incident, is that you don’t expect it to happen again. Too lazy to talk with McGonagall about arranging something different, you let it go and assume that Namjoon won’t be there the next day, and that you can tutor in peace. As suspicious as the boy is, you give him the benefit of the doubt and just hope that he won’t bother you again.

But you’re wrong.

Because the second you walk into the library you notice a flyer advertising his tutoring skills tacked right on top of yours, blocking every word on your poster from view. And with a quick turn of your head, you spot him settling down at the table. Your table. He’s smiling to himself as he chats casually with the girl across from him, who’s tugging her textbook from her bag.

The girl you’re supposed to meet up with isn’t here yet, which gives you plenty of time to either: think this whole thing through and act calm and composed as you politely ask Namjoon for the table, or storm up to him and tell him that you have every right under the sun to use this table, especially after yesterday. And, as good of a student as you are, your communication skills have always been a bit lacking.

“I’m pretty sure I get to use this table today,” you say, not really caring about what conversation you’re interrupting as you march up to Namjoon, scowl on your face.

“Ugh, it’s you again,” Namjoon says, frowning as he turns to look up at you, and honestly, how on Earth did this boy manage to befriend half of the student body? “Excuse me, for just one moment,” he says as he looks at the girl in front of him apologetically. “Can I help you with something, Y/N?”

“Could you go find somewhere else to tutor? Anywhere else?” You ask, eyes wide. “Because you were here yesterday, and I need this table to tutor my own students.”

“What, angry that you didn’t get here early enough?” Namjoon asks, pouting as he looks at you, patronizing and enraging. “That’s not my fault.”

“Can we work out some kind of schedule, or something? I don’t understand what’s so difficult about us compromising,” you say, rolling your eyes, already tired of this conversation.

“I thought you were supposed to be intelligent, Y/N,” Namjoon tsks, shaking his head. “But it’s clear that you can’t see why, so I guess I’ll have to spell it out for you.”

Your mouth drops open.

“You’re competition, Y/N,” Namjoon says, leaning over with his face barely an inch away from yours. Your eyes are stark wide as they stare into his, face frozen without a word on your tongue, nothing to get out in response. “And I don’t take kindly to competition, so you better step up your game if you want any shot at beating me.”

“I don’t want to play this game of yours,” you insist, but Namjoon just shrugs helplessly, sitting back down and turning his attention to the girl in front of him. You heave out a breath, appalled, offended, and seeking revenge. Maybe you told Namjoon that competition isn’t for you, but when you’re up against a grade A asshole and your entire reputation is at stake, well… let the games begin.

You see the girl you’re supposed to tutor as you march out of the library, footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor as you figure out what the hell you’re supposed to do next, because you can’t bear another floor session and Namjoon’s taunting. With a final turn back to the table that’s apparently no longer yours, glaring down Namjoon’s back with a scowl scrawled all over your face, you meet up with the girl and force out a smile.

“This place is too crowded,” you fib. “Let’s go to the Great Hall, instead. There’s more space there.”

Kim Namjoon deems you not only competition inside the library, but also outside of it, after a double Charms class between the fourth-year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. You didn’t even realize how many classes you actually shared with him until he became an unwelcome presence in your life, but now that you do, it seems that he’s always hot on your tail.

Charms is another one of those subjects that you could probably safely call “a walk in the park”, mostly because nothing in that class is ever difficult or particularly mind-boggling. You are positive that you’ve definitely fallen asleep in the class before, and you still have a perfect grade so hey, what does it matter?

It matters when the entire class is dedicated to perfecting the Summoning Charm, a spell you mastered the second time you ever uttered the words, and right out from under you, your quill is snatched away from you as you’re finishing up your Arithmancy homework for the next two days. It’s tugged right from your hand, and you barely have time to react to its rapid disappearance before you hear a familiar laugh.

From across the classroom, Kim Namjoon is sitting, grinning wildly with a devious smirk on his face, your quill dangling from his fingers. You know you can’t go up and get the damn thing and disrupt the whole class, but luckily for you, you know another way to get your quill back.

“Accio,” you cast with your wand pointed directly at the quill in question, lips curling up into a smile as you watch it break free from Namjoon’s grasp and fly right back to you.

The best part about this? Flitwick sees.

“Did you catch that, class?” He chirps happily as he beams up at you from the stack of books he stands on. “Miss Y/L/N did it! Wonderful job, Miss Y/L/N! Five points to Ravenclaw for your perfect pronunciation and strong wand movement. Did you see it? The quill flew right to her! That’s how the Summoning Charm should be performed.”

You feel your cheeks heating up as everyone turns to stare at you, some in pride and some in envy, but the innocent smile on your face soon morphs into that of sweet, sweet victory as you turn to meet Namjoon’s eyes. He’s got a smirk on his face, almost as if to say, “Smart move” as he nods slowly to himself.

Before you know it, your quill is back in his hands as he grins proudly, twirling it between his thumb and pointer fingers.

“Mr. Kim! You too!” Flitwick declares cheerfully. “Excellent form, excellent, excellent. Five points to Gryffindor for your fantastic job, as well. Students! Watch Miss Y/L/N and Mr. Kim, as they know extremely well how the Summoning Charm is to be cast.”

It’s a good move. Almost too good, if you think about it, but playing games on your own is no fun. The more, the merrier.

“Accio,” you say back, bringing your quill back to you. Hardly a second has passed before it’s back in Namjoon’s hands.

The two of you go back and forth like this, friendly fire across the room, much to Flitwick’s delight, both of you unable to let this go. Your smirks grow wider as you cast the charm over and over like it’s nobody’s business, completely outshining the rest of the class with your little battle, only one of the war. By the end of the period, you don’t know how many times you’ve said the word “Accio,” but it’s enough for each letter to have carved a space on your tongue as you happily grin down at the quill in your hand.

Flitwick stops the both of you when class is over, keeping you back from your next lesson to do nothing but shower praise.

“You two are the brightest students I’ve seen in a very long time,” he informs you with glee. “Your performances today were outstanding. I’ve never seen two people so engaged in a lesson before.”

You and Namjoon look at each other, stuffing down your scowls and replacing them with fake smiles instead.

“I should hope that every day will be like this,” Flitwick says. “You both are dismissed.”

“Think you got the best of me, hey, Y/N?” Namjoon asks on the way out, devilish grin on his face as he looks at you. “Finally managed to beat me?”

“You’ll never admit it,” you retort back.

“That I won’t,” Namjoon nods in assurance. “But we’ll see who has the last laugh.”

“What’s the last laugh supposed to mean when you could have the last word instead?” You challenge, stopped dead in the middle of the hallway as you stare at each other, each with untrustworthy smiles on your faces. Like this, Namjoon actually looks like someone whose company you might have enjoyed. Like this, there’s a little voice in the back of your brain that whispers promises of friendship, or at least, acquaintance-ship. But you shake those thoughts out of your mind, nearly scoffing aloud at the very idea of the two of you being anything less than mortal enemies.

Kim Namjoon leans in close, and he murmurs into your ear, “Better pick your words wisely, then, Miss Y/N.”

With that, he’s gone, and when you take a seat in Defense Against the Dark Arts and fish through your bag for a writing utensil, you find yourself quill-less. Almost as if on cue, Namjoon’s laughter rings through your ears.

God damnit.

Present

Visiting Hogsmeade is always your favorite part of the year. Always. Time away from schoolwork, from pressing teachers, and your very favorite, time away from Kim Namjoon’s obnoxiously omnipresent existence. You had calculated it two years ago—the odds of you seeing Namjoon on any given day at Hogsmeade is roughly 1 in 4258, a meager 0.023% of you even having to catch a glimpse of the boy. It’s the most satisfying basic arithmetic you’ve ever done. Nothing says sweet weekend vacation like the promise that you don’t have to lay your eyes on your one and only nemesis while there.

Hogsmeade is the one place where you can let your worries run free, scurry off into nothingness as you take in the scent of snow, butterbeer, and pumpkin pasties. You trust that luck is on your side, for if Namjoon really wanted to bother you while the two of you were both at Hogwarts, all he’d have to do is look a little bit harder. He’d find you. And so far, he’s made no attempts at tracking you down to terrorize you on your one weekend of freedom from his overbearing self.

Surprisingly enough, neither of you have resorted to those prank toys sold at the Zonko’s to outdo one another. Sure, your rivalry is childish and definitely worthy of a couple of fake quills and vanishing ink—at least, maturity-wise—but neither of you seem very drawn to the idea of them, and randomly bringing those nonsense tricks into the game now would just be breaking the status quo. The competition between the two of you is unnecessarily volcanic, but if there’s one thing you can agree on, it’s the fact that it is hardly based on petty tricks and practical jokes. No, you fight like real people. With words. And sometimes wands.

That is, until you somehow find yourself separated from your group of friends, and realize that you fight with snowballs, as well.

The first time, it sort of feels like someone just accidentally bumped into you, elbowed your back slightly as they’re weaving their way through the crowd. You almost make to apologize, the “Sorry” on the tip of your tongue, when it happens again. This time, there’s no mistaking the wetness on your back, damp clothes touching skin as you freeze up from the ice.

Kim Namjoon is standing by the entrance to the path that leads toward the Shrieking Shack lookout with his head tilted back, howling with laughter. You see a couple of his friends dart down the path when they notice your smouldering gaze, see how their feet make skidded footprints in the snow as they run.

Namjoon finally makes eye contact with you, but there’s no fear in his irises. He’s not scared of you, never has been, probably never will be, despite your best efforts, only grinning like he’s victorious. He’s bundled up tight but his hands are bare as they form another snowball, one you know will hit you right in the fucking noggin if you’re not smart with your next move. Either you reach down to hit him with a snowball first, or you run, desperate to wreak your revenge on him.

This is a new level of low for the both of you, you realize, having never done this before even in spite of the fact that you’ve definitely been on many a Hogsmeade outing together in your time. You had always done such a damn good job of avoiding him, pushing him to the back of your mind as you laugh with your friends as you trade Chocolate Frog cards and get Butterbeer foam on your nose. But this time, it’s different. This time, Namjoon wants to make himself known to you.

You dodge Namjoon’s next throw only barely, managing to move your head just in the nick of time as you gather up your own snowball, devious grin taking over your face as you run towards him, chasing him down. Namjoon’s smart, and he knows that you’re reckless and carefree, and so he bolts, turning down the path quickly as he follows in the footsteps of his friends. With his name on your lips, you chase him down, half-fuming, half-giggling.

It’s easy to track him down, following the sets of three different footprints to an area that you already know well enough. You keep your eyes trained on the prints in front of you, not wanting to get ambushed by a certain someone who may have taken another road.

When you reach the clearing, nobody’s there, and the footprints end.

“Stop being a coward and face me, Kim!” You shout to nobody, snowball held firmly in between your palms as you swivel around. You’re suspicious and wary, knowing that Namjoon wouldn’t lead you on some wild goose chase and make you look like a fucking idiot in the middle of the lookout to the Shrieking Shack.

Out of nowhere, a snowball comes hurdling right towards your head. You notice it at the last second, not enough time to cast a spell to deflect it but just enough to quickly move your head. It crashes onto the snowy floor behind you, collapsing into a million bits. Fuck, you forgot that one of Namjoon’s friends has an Invisibility cloak. They’re probably using that.

“Gonna hide behind a fucking cloak for this whole thing, huh, Kim? That’s low,” you shout in the direction of the source of the snowball, smirk on your face.

Crash!

Your neck and back are sopping wet, skin shivering from the dampness as you feel the ice fall off of your coat. Damnit.

“Kim!” You shriek, snowball at the ready.

Just then, two boys come scurrying out of a back path, one of them you recognize as the kid with the aforementioned Invisibility cloak. They’re giggling, but you make eye contact with both of them and they dash, not wanting to be involved in whatever battle is about to occur any longer. They’re young kids, probably no more than fourth years, but with them gone, you know it’s just you and Namjoon now.

“Found me yet, Y/N?” His voice echoes, body still hidden amongst the snowy trees and rocks.

“I see how it is,” you call back, crossing your arms over your chest in disappointment. “You’re just gonna taunt me from wherever you’re hiding and pelt snowballs at me from an unseen location instead of just dueling me like a real wizard.”

“You want to face me head-to-head, Y/N?” Namjoon asks. “Fine.”

Before you can even think about a snarky response, you feel an unmistakable thud on your head, and feel the ice dripping down your hair. It’s a small snowball, you know that much—Namjoon would never purposefully put you in danger—but it does the job and it does it well, because your body heats up in rage as you tilt your head straight up to the sky and see Namjoon casually sitting on one of the branches above.

“You asked for it, Y/N!” Namjoon shouts before jumping down, casting a wordless spell to break his fall. “Head to head.”

The first thing you do when he’s finally at your eye-level is pelt your snowball at him, watching in glee as it hits his chest and knocks the wind right out of him. Namjoon gasps slightly, but when he looks back to meet your eyes, ignited with flames, he’s grinning like a villain, dangerous smirk on his face.

Next thing you know, you have a full-scale snowball war on your hands, skids in the snow on the ground and laughter erupting from your lungs.

From a distance, the two of you might look like friends. Friends who are casually having a snowball fight in an empty clearing while on a school trip to Hogsmeade. Friends who are playfully competitive but enjoy each other’s presence regardless. From a distance, the two of you actually look like you might get along with each other.

But you can’t. You swear, you’d rather die than be the last person on Earth with Namjoon by your side, you swear that you’ll hate the kid until the end of time itself. There’s no fathomable way that you could ever get along with him, cooperate for even just one second. You’re enemies. You will always be enemies.

You’re firing at him rapidly now, snowball after snowball after snowball as you hide behind the white-covered park bench that looks out towards the Shrieking Shack, giggles bubbling in your voice as each one comes in contact with Namjoon’s body. With one final blow, you throw your largest snowball right at his torso, a loud thud erupting as it hits him, making him fall onto the snowy floor with a grunt.

Victorious laughter leaves your throat as you watch him fall, happy to see that you’ve finally fucking beat him in something, but the smile on your face soon dissipates when you notice his unmoving body. Suddenly, concern washes over your features as you run over to him. God, what did you do? The snowball couldn’t have been that strong, fuck.

“Kim? Kim, you alright?” You ask as you stand over him, nudging his still leg with your foot to see if it’ll get him up. “Namjoon?”

He’s silent, eyes closed softly, snowflakes dotting his eyelashes.

“Kim?” You repeat, leaning down as you look over him, head hovering above his. “Get up, Kim. Stop pretending. Kim!”

You’ll never admit it to him, but panic overtakes you for a brief second as you dwell on the worst thoughts that pop into your brain, that he hit his head on the hard floor, rendering him unconscious.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself as you look around, hoping nobody sees the two of you like this, with your body hovering over his as your chest seizes up in fear.

Just then, something grabs the arm that’s loitering right next to him and tugs you down into the snow. You shriek in surprise as your head hits his chest and warm laughter bubbles up from his throat.

“Got you!” Namjoon taunts happily, craning his neck down to get a good look at your speechless expression, mouth open but no words coming out. “God, you looked so worried, Y/N. Does that mean you actually care about me?” He asks you, gazing into your eyes with his own victory scrawled all over his face.

You scoff, pushing yourself off of him as you dust the snow from your arms and chest. “As if. You just scared me, ‘s all. I didn’t want to be held accountable for your death while still a student.” You’re flustered, ears burning a hot red (and not from the snow), but you stand up anyway, refusing to meet his eyes. “When we graduate though, that’s a different story.”

Namjoon laughs, getting up off of the ground and brushing the snow from his body. “I always knew you cared for me, Y/N. You’re so easy to read.”

“I am not!” You shout in disbelief, resisting the way your mouth yearns to curve upwards. “You’re just awful.”

“Salty that I finally exposed you?” Namjoon asks cheekily.

You turn to him as you walk back up to the path, towards the bustling Hogsmeade center, and push his chest lightly, nose scrunched up. “Shut up, Kim.”

“Make me,” Namjoon responds, and with that, he’s pressing another snowball firmly into your chest and running off with a cackle, giving you hardly any time to react before he’s off.

“Kim!”

Fourth Year

“Y/N!”

You whip your head around at the source of the voice, turning only to see your friend, Seulgi bounding towards you, gleeful smile scrawled on her face. It’s especially nice to see her these days, what with all of the negativity in your life (cough, Kim Namjoon, cough), considering the fact that you hardly have any classes with her.

“Hey,” you say in response when she catches up to you. You’re walking down to the Gamekeeper’s hut to camp out on the fairgrounds, wanting to spend some time away from the castle. It’s the one damn place Namjoon hasn’t contaminated.

“What’s this I hear about you and that Gryffindor kid?” She asks, not even trying to beat around the bush. You’re surprised that news has travelled so fast, but you suppose that anyone would be slightly suspicious of that Charms class yesterday. It’s not every day you see two top students battling it out with the Summoning Charm.

“Who, Kim?” You ask, feigning ignorance. You know damn well who she’s talking about, you’re just hoping that maybe, maybe she means someone else and you don’t have to get a bad taste in your mouth every time you say his name.

“Yeah, the smart kid. Some Gryffindor was telling me yesterday about your Charms class,” Seulgi says as she stuffs a small mint into her mouth. “What’s going on? Are you guys friends, or something?”

You stifle a laugh.

She gasps. “Are you dating him? And you didn’t even tell me?” Her eyes are wide as they stare you down, and you panic.

“Oh my God! Oh my God, no, oh my God. We’re not dating,” you say sternly, a sick image of the two of you being all cuddly together coming up in your brain. The very thought makes you want to vomit. “We’re not even friends.”

“But the two of you were like… playing around together in Charms,” your friend says, unable to connect the dots. You don’t blame her. “It sounds like you guys are dating to me.”

“We’re not, I swear. I don’t even like him,” you insist, to probably no avail. Seulgi doesn’t look all that convinced. “He’s an asshole.”

“Strong word there, Y/N,” she chides.

“He is! He hates me, honestly,” you tell her, shaking your head. “I don’t know what the heck his deal is.”

“Why does he hate you?” Seulgi asks, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “He likes everybody.”

“Not me, I guess. But the feeling is mutual. I don’t like him very much either,” you admit to her.

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” she hums casually, not paying very much attention to the conversation. As you walk down to the fairgrounds, she’s kicking a rock along the way. “I find the thought of the two of you hating each other very hard to believe.”

You scoff, a little flustered. What on Earth could give away any other message about your relationship with Namjoon besides “mortal enemy”? You thought you had made it clear enough that you disliked the boy. It’s not like he treats you any better, with his honeyed words and condescending tone.

“Believe it,” you say, pressing a finger to her forehead as you push her back slightly, making her giggle.

When you reach the bottom of the hill, you and Seulgi camp out on one of the crumbling park benches, wood faded from use. The stone seat is cold, the temperature moving through your robes as goosebumps cover your skin, but you settle in comfortably regardless. You’ve already finished your homework, so being out here isn’t really helpful for your studying, but it’s peace and quiet as the sounds of nature consume you.

“Hey, Seulgi, wanna see this thing Flitwick taught me?” You ask, nudging her side as you pull out a spare piece of parchment.

“I can’t believe you’re doing so well in Charms that Flitwick just casually teaches you outside lessons, but sure,” she responds, rolling her eyes as she turns to you.

You quickly fold the paper into an airplane, having mastered the technique the second time you did it. The first time, your airplane was… meh, at best. “The Ministry apparently uses something like this all of the time,” you say informatively. “They’re called Interdepartmental Memos, or something like that. But Flitwick just taught me how to create my own.”

Nimble fingers perfect the wings of the airplane as you turn to Seulgi, excited expression on your face. She motions for you to fly it.

With a soft bit of force, the airplane takes off, flying gracefully through the forest air as your eyes follow its path. Unlike Muggle airplanes, gravity does not take its toll on this one as it continues to float gently in the wind. The sight is perfect, almost too perfect, and instantly broken as you watch a hand reach out to grab it.

“Excuse me,” you say, rolling your eyes as you get up to go confront whoever decided that they would snatch up your airplane mid-flight. “Would you mind giving that back?”

“Did you make this, Y/N?”

God damnit.

“Not you again, Kim,” you say, face morphing into one with a pained expression. “Can’t you just give me one break? I feel like everywhere I go, you show up.”

Namjon shrugs helplessly, inspecting your airplane between his calloused hands. “I guess our paths keep crossing.”

You reach up to grab the plane from him, happy to have it back in your grasp. “I wish they didn’t.”

Namjoon leans down to look at you, an unreadable smile taking over his lips. “I’m glad that they do.”

Present

Namjoon’s poster is back to normal, you notice as you enter the library. To combat this, you quickly transfigure it into a lost Kneazle poster, just to bother him. You have no tutoring session after class today, seeing as you need all of the time you can get to finish this group project by yourself (because your classmates are incompetent at best), so you’re just here to jinx a couple of posters and check out some spellbooks. This potion isn’t going to brew itself.

Someone that does have tutoring today is Namjoon, because, for some reason, he feels no sense of urgency to keep his grades up (yet another quality you despise about him—how can he be so careless and still maintain the ranking of top student?). He’s sitting right out in the open with his student of choice, pointing to something in a book as he lectures the kid. You pay them hardly any attention, not wanting to give Namjoon the recognition he craves.

Still, with them being out in the open like that, it’s hard to avoid them as you go back and forth between shelves and cases on the hunt for the textbooks you need. You feel Namjoon’s piercing gaze on you with every step you take, keeping your head down as the pile of books in your hands grows taller and taller.

You spend probably about an hour in the library, skimming through textbooks to see which ones are worth checking out and getting distracted with light reading from textbooks about Dragons of the Stone Age and Wizards and Witches of the 18th Century Framed for Other’s Crimes. Shit’s interesting, man.

You’ve just checked out about five books when you hear thundering footsteps approaching you, which can really only mean just one thing.

“No tutoring today, Y/N?” Namjoon asks as he moseys on up to you.

“I’m busy today, Kim,” you quip back, keeping your answer short so as not to indulge him. “Don’t have time.”

“Grades falling?” Namjoon suggests, taking a quick peek at the books in your hand. “That’s a shame, Y/N. I would typically expect better from you.”

“You know what, Kim?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him, scowl ever present. “You can take your expectations and you can shove them up your ass.”

“No need to be rude, Y/N, I know you’re trying hard to beat me out,” Namjoon says, patronizing smirk on his face. “You might get there, eventually.”

“God, you’re such a tool, you know that? You drive me up the fucking wall,” you exclaim, breathing out a sigh of annoyance. “I just want to… God, I don’t even know what the hell I want to do to you.”

“I could think of a few things,” Namjoon comments, making you gasp as you whip out your wand.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re casting whatever the first jinx to come to mind is, the Jelly-Legs one, aimed right at Namjoon’s face. He dodges it swiftly, but not before retaliating with his own curse, the Trip Jinx leaving his mouth as a flash of purple heads straight to you. You hold your textbook up as a shield, watching the streak bounce off of the cover and dissolve into the carpet. You’re livid.

“Mr. Kim! Miss Y/L/N!” Madam Pince shrieks from where she’s standing behind the checkout desk. “This behavior is highly inappropriate for the library! Detentions, for the both of you!”

Fuck.

To see the two top students, always on time, always polite, always active, trapped in an hour-long detention after class together would be a shocker for any teacher or student. The two of you show up to an empty classroom with frowns on your faces, wishing for the time to pass by. Sinistra’s in there, probably to watch over the two of you to make sure that you don’t get up to any funny business. You know, like hexing each other again.

“Welcome to Detention, take a sea—” She says without even glancing up from the pile of work on her desk, but she makes to look to see who the troublemakers of the day is, and her mouth drops, almost comically, when she sees you and Namjoon standing awkwardly at the entrance. “You two? What on Earth could have gotten you here?”

You and Namjoon look at each other guiltily.

“We had a bit of an argument,” Namjoon says, as if that’s any explanation.

“I never thought I’d see the day where the two best students in this school would land up serving a Detention with each other,” Sinistra comments as she stands up, gathering all of her papers in a neat pile. She walks down from where the desk is, meeting the two of you. “Well, since it’s only you two, I’m going to go back up to my classroom so that I can finish grading. I trust that neither of you will try to pull anything funny. You are Hogwarts’ best, after all.”

She exits the room swiftly, locking the door on the way out with some magic probably immune to Alohomora (though you wouldn’t put it past her if she didn’t) just to make sure the two of you stay trapped in this stuffy classroom for the next hour. That’s the beauty of being the best—teachers trust you with anything.

“Ugh,” you say as you collapse onto a desk, taking a seat on the top of the table. “Great.”

“We wouldn’t be in here if it weren’t for you,” Namjoon says, scrunching his nose up as he sits down beside you. “I was only acting in self-defense.”

“You provoked me,” you respond. “I’m just surprised I didn’t try to hex you sooner. It’s been over three years and I only tried to hex you now.”

“Well, you missed, so it’s not like you would have done any better as a fourth year,” he comments sarcastically. “Not a hexing kind of person?”

“You’re the only person I’d ever want to hex.”

“I’m touched.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes as you lean your head back, letting it rest on another desk. Staring up at the ceiling, you notice how the clouds slowly move across the vast expanse of blue through the skylights. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“What?” Namjoon asks.

“Why do you hate me? I don’t understand. What did I ever do to you?” You repeat, deciding that now is as good a time as any to figure out the mystery. It’s not like you have anything better to do.

“I don’t hate you,” Namjoon says softly, making you sit up in surprise.

You meet his eyes, swirling with brown wonder. “What?”

“I don’t hate you. I never said I did,” he says. “Why do you hate me?”

“Because I thought you hated me,” you respond, almost entirely at a lost for words. “Because you’re always so rude, and obnoxious, and taunting, and you push all of my buttons and make me want to punch you in the—”

There are many ways that Namjoon has shut you up before, with a sneer, a spell, a sentence, but never with his lips. At least, not until now.

You gasp into his mouth when his lips meet yours, but all other reasoning flies out into the courtyard at the sensation, all the parts of your brain that would typically be shouting “What the hell are you doing?!” rendered completely ineffective. You’re a good multitasker—you’d have to be to get the top spot, after all—but with his mouth on yours you can only focus on him, on the warmth that emanates from his whole body as he presses it into you. His hands come to hold your cheeks, cradle them in his palms as he lets the kiss work, eyelashes fluttering.

The second you part, your senses are finally coming back to you, and you react, albeit weakly, by pushing him away.

“What the hell?” You ask, more to yourself than to him, keeping your eyes trained on the floor. “Kim, what on—”

“I’ve wanted to do that since fourth year,” Namjoon interrupts, cheeks flushed a deep red. “You just never realized it.”

“Since fourth year?” You ask, still shaken. “You’ve been taunting and teasing me since fourth year and you think that one kiss is going to change all of that?”

“I—I should have done it sooner,” Namjoon admits, rubbing his arm awkwardly as he approaches you with a romantic sort of hesitance, one that has your heart shaking a little. “I know. I regret it.”

“I—” you begin, unable to finish your exclamation, come up with a coherent sentence. All you think about is the feeling of his lips on yours, how it made your heart thump a thousand times faster and all your worries dissipate.

“I treasure your presence in my life, Y/N,” Namjoon says. “I do. You never fail to make me smile or laugh. You’re so giving, you know. You’re sweet and grateful and you know what you want and you know how to get it. I think it’s admirable. I think you’re admirable.”

“Namjoon, I—”

“I understand if you don’t want to give this a shot,” he says, coming up to you as he takes your hand in his. “But I want you to know that I think that I’m in love with you, and that that won’t ever change. No matter what happens to us.”

God, you cannot cry in front of him, you refuse, so you furiously blink away the tears in your watering eyes. “You’re such an asshole, you know that?” You ask, voice choking. “All this time… all this time.”

“Y/N…”

“I think I love you too, Kim. I really, really do,” you admit, the words feel like a weight is being lifted off of your chest. Like with him, you can finally float.

Namjoon’s face breaks out into a smile, a warm, beautiful one, as he reaches out to press a light kiss on your forehead. One filled with promises of a better tomorrow.

You leave detention an hour later with a new outlook on life, a new boyfriend, and one hell of a joint-tutoring program, coordinated by only you and a special someone.

Third year you would never even dream about dating Kim Namjoon, but seventh year you can’t think of anything better than him by your side.

⇒ hmu with feedback or just talk to me here!

[its-love-u-asshole]

Slipping Underneath [Ch. 5]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima was in some deep shit he realized, but common sense told him he should have been rather happy about the discovery he’d just made. Of course, that didn’t stop him from freaking out.

“Tsukki? Did something happen?” Bokuto asked.

Dejected, the blond lifted his head, giving Bokuto the flattest stare he could manage. “The neighbor downstairs hates my voice.”

Rating: T

Tags: soulmates, mythology/sirens AU, some iwaoi and bokuaka thrown in bc why not, first meetings, fluff, Kuroo is a nerd and Tsukki can’t help but be charmed, Siren!Tsukki, Siren!Bokuto

Note: Hello! Thanks for your patience, those of you who have to deal with my terrible update schedule lol. We’re so close to the end here honestly...I’m really excited for the next chapter lmao I just hope I find time to write it ^^’’ I am taking 20 units this quarter at uni so I apologize for the slowness. My main goal is to finish this up within the month or so, and then my focus can be entirely on Let My Love! So wish me luck, and enjoy this update! <3 

AO3

The more and more Oikawa pestered Kuroo about his 'plan' the less Kuroo was interested. From the get go, he hadn't exactly been enthused about the little siren experiment anyways. Even Kuroo, someone who believed in cryptids and vampires and the like, couldn't fathom his boyfriend being some bloodthirsty creature from the deep.

Still he knew he'd eventually be forced into carrying out the plan, if only to eliminate the possibility. If it could even be called that.

Sirens. When was the last time there had been a siren sighting? A siren experience? Never. Not once in the last hundred years. Kuroo had checked, much to his embarrassment. He'd scrolled through message boards and chat threads for hours, yet the most he could find were a few interesting fanfictions and art depicting mermaid type creatures. All women. All not real.

He was being ridiculous, taking things too far. So what if it was sort of weird how guys crowded Tsukishima?

Kuroo's boyfriend was amazing, and gorgeous. Kuroo got his fair share of confessions himself. He was probably just too new to this whole jealousy thing, too new to the relationship thing altogether. But that was okay. He and Tsukishima were figuring it out, and they were having a great time along the way.

Screw Oikawa and his persistence.

Oikawa was just bored, needed a break from school and wedding planning, and probably thought the whole thing was one big joke. Kuroo thought ignoring him would be simple, and eventually the brunet would grow bored with this idea too, letting it fade into the background.

So far, that hadn't happened yet.

"Hey, so when are we going to do this?"

"Hey, Tsukishima has Tuesday afternoons off right? What about we test him then?"

"If he is a siren, do you think he'll eat us? Do sirens eat people?"

Kuroo's phone was busy with texts and phone calls, all from Oikawa. Even when he put his phone on silent, he felt like he could still feel each notification, lighting up from across the room. So much for studying.

Kuroo planted his face into his textbook as he saw his phone glow on the coffee table in front of him. The apartment remained silent apart from the groan he let loose into the cold air. With finals approaching, the campus communities had gotten quieter, less lively. In the distance, Kuroo could hear dulled music from a party, but otherwise, all was still. The formulas in his book looked tiny and unreadable, his mind too frenzied to really give them the attention they deserved. Not like he really needed to. He'd aced this chapter, as he usually did. He was only reviewing it to stay sharp.

Oikawa was gone this weekend, traveling to Iwaizumi's dorm for once to torture a different roommate, but he obviously had the time to bug the fuck out of Kuroo. Chucking his textbook across the couch, Kuroo snatched up his phone, reading the messages with disinterest.

Oikawa Tooru: Iwa-chan is in

Oikawa Tooru: by in I mean he got tired of telling me no

Oikawa Tooru: this plan is gold Kuroo!! when are we going to test it??

Kuroo snorted as he read through the various complaints which came after. Apparently, Kuroo was afraid of the 'unknown' or something. What the fuck. Kuroo Tetsurou, afraid of the unknown? Afraid of a challenge? He'd once attempted to eat eight saltines in less than a minute, ignoring the chance of choking. In his hubris, he'd nearly passed out from lack of air. Did that sound like someone who was afraid of anything? Not to mention, he'd once dragged the brunet into camping with him for two nights in search of bigfoot when they'd studied abroad in America. The unknown was Kuroo Tetsurou's bitch.

Typing out a series of refusals to Oikawa's demands, Kuroo felt another chill run through him, and he instinctively rolled into a ball on the couch. It'd been cold all night, but he'd been too stubborn to blast the heater, instead choosing to pile on blankets. Now though, nothing seemed good enough. He needed real heat, real comfort.

And there's a surefire way to get it...

Kuroo's eyes twinkled as he glanced up to the ceiling, hearing nothing. Good. That meant Tsukishima's roommate wasn't home. Kuroo hadn't met Bokuto Koutarou quite yet, but from what Tsukishima told him, he sounded like a lot of fun. Fun, but with loud footsteps. Kuroo always knew when Tsukishima was alone as a result. Perfect.

Now, he knew that technically, Tsukishima was busy writing a paper, but well...It had been a few hours since he'd last heard from his boyfriend. The blond deserved a break, and a healthy dose of Kuroo.

Pocketing his phone, Kuroo might as well have skipped onto the balcony, ready to make his climb. Tsukishima would scold him for being so reckless (and yeah okay, maybe he should've just taken the elevator), but the power of love couldn't be stopped. Besides, it was nostalgic now. This was how they'd met.

Kuroo ignored the voice in the back of his head which chose to latch onto more specific details. Right, when you'd climbed up to make him stop his horrid singing, singing which apparently only sounds that way to you. Because you're weird.

Kuroo shook his head, lifting himself with minimal effort until he was standing amongst all of Tsukishima's potted plants. A few looked like they were having a tough time, given the weather, but Tsukishima's meticulous care never wavered. They'd survive the cold.

Kuroo smiled fondly at the various shears and trowels littered about, along with the empty packets of seeds which Kuroo had gifted his boyfriend.

Looking forward, the orange glow of the lights already made him feel warmer. Or maybe it was just the person illuminated by them, Kuroo couldn't tell anymore.

He watched fondly as Tsukishima yawned, his slender fingers stilling in the midst of their furious typing. The blond had an oversized quilt flung around his shoulders, and he wore his designated 'comfy' sweatpants, old food stains and all.

Kuroo felt his heart lurch at the tired lines on his boyfriend's face, the instant need to pull him close overpowering him. Not bothering to knock, Kuroo pulled the sliding glass door open, pleased to find it unlocked.

It wasn't everyday he got the drop on his boyfriend, so he savored the 3.5 seconds of shock which flitted across his face before it turned into something less amused. "I'm writing a paper you know..."

Regardless, Tsukishima shut his computer almost instantly, a clear hint he'd had just about enough of academic jargon and citations.

"Well as you know, it's cold and I need warmth, so I win," Kuroo said, grinning as he plopped himself onto the couch. The old frame creaked under his weight, his body sinking into the cushions which desperately needed vacuuming. He heard Tsukishima scoff above him, and it only made his comfort skyrocket. Kuroo wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist, pulling him closer. Tsukishima wasn't exactly a human heater, since the blond suffered from the cold easier than most, but the added heat and softness made Kuroo sigh. They'd had breakfast just that morning together, but it really had been too long.

Tsukishima swallowed a laugh when Kuroo nuzzled his stomach, and Kuroo savored the moment for as long as he could before his self-control gave out, and he looked up. Tsukishima looked a lot more tired up close.

Kuroo blinked up at him, and Tsukishima's brow furrowed. "What?"

Kuroo shrugged, his hand coming up to trace the deep bags underneath his boyfriend's eyes. Tsukishima's chapped lips parted from the suddenness, but he stayed put, watching Kuroo think. The dry skin beneath Kuroo's fingers worried him. He wondered when his boyfriend had actually thought to take a shower or rest. "You study too much, you're gonna faint one of these days if you don't watch it..."

He spoke the truth too. Once Tsukishima sat down and set his mind to some sort of assignment, he didn't stop until it was done. Kuroo had learned this over the past few weeks, mostly because he realized he possessed a unique gift.

He could actually pull Tsukishima away from his work without much of a fight, and he took advantage of it whenever he thought his blond got too close to overdoing it.

Tsukishima laughed, lightly swatting Kuroo's hand away. "I won't."

Kuroo arched a brow, swatting Tsukishima back. He couldn't help but think that even looking near zombie level tired, the blond looked adorable. "How can you be so sure?"

He walked into a trap, he knew it, but it wasn't like he really tried hard to avoid it.

"I have a certain burglar who checks in on me frequently," Tsukishima said, his smile betraying the attempt at a jab. The hands curling gently in Kuroo's hair also served as an unfair distraction, Kuroo's number one weakness. Tsukishima's hands were magic, and the raven leaned into the touch gratefully. "He has no qualms about trespassing, so I'm sure he'll be around to nag me to sleep."

Little shit.

"You're the one who leaves the door unlocked!"

"Yeah, the patio door. The top floor patio door. That's not an invitation," Tsukishima insisted, but his smile hadn't wavered, and Kuroo had done his job. Already, the blond looked way more relaxed than before. The tenseness disappeared from his shoulders, and he'd begun sinking into the cushions of the couch, Kuroo's head in his lap. Perfect conditions.

Subtly, Kuroo pushed Tsukishima's cursed laptop farther away until it was out of sight. Couldn't risk the blond remembering his paper and trying to work on it for another three hours. He had a few days before it'd be due, plenty of time to finish.

Kuroo was set to turn in for the rest of the night, maybe take advantage of Bokuto's absence, but then he saw the expensive headphones which were connected to Tsukishima's laptop, and his mind flooded with the one topic he'd constantly pushed away. Music.

Kuroo's eyes roamed over the coffee table, noting the iPod touch sitting on it. Tsukishima hated carrying his music on his phone, especially due to storage. He had close to a thousand songs on there already, and the number was sure to grow. Kuroo felt something in his brain itch, a horrid scratch he couldn't ignore any longer. Not when it surrounded him.

Tsukishima loved music, loved singing. The evidence was everywhere. From the album posters on the wall, to the fact that whenever Kuroo turned on the small television it was on a music channel, or hooked up to Spotify. Tsukishima owned a record player, a birthday gift, and had his favorite albums pressed onto vinyl. There was a music note keychain hanging from his backpack, he had two pairs of in-ear headphones alongside his expensive ones.

When they were in Kuroo's car, the first thing the blond did was tune the radio to his preferred channel, pointing out when a song was new or when he liked a certain artist. His leg would bounce as he fought not to sing along, and he probably thought Kuroo didn't notice. But Kuroo did. Kuroo noticed everything.

Everyone thought Tsukishima's god given talent was singing, and all evidence lead to that being fairly accurate. No matter who Kuroo talked to, they thought his boyfriend's voice was lovely. So why didn't he?

Why did Tsukishima have to fight other guys off with a stick? Why didn't he indulge himself in his singing, no matter how terrible, around Kuroo? Surely, they were on that level now where he shouldn't care or be embarrassed. Before, the blond had insisted it was a privacy thing, something he preferred to do without an audience, but Kuroo grew less and less sure over time.

"Tetsu, are you alive up there?" Tsukishima said, tapping Kuroo's forehead gently with his index finger. The itch was unbearable now, his mind latching onto the question he so desperately needed the answer to. Tsukishima's soft, loving tone was the last straw. The words delighted his ears, made him melt, and yeah he probably loved Tsukishima if something as simple as his voice could do something like that too him. But then again, maybe his voice wasn't simple in the slightest.

"Sing for me," Kuroo whispered, almost against his will. His breath caught as the last syllable left his mouth, but goddammit, he was sticking with this. Kuroo blinked, watching as Tsukishima's face morphed from calm, to surprised, to something Kuroo could only describe as troubled. He'd never seen that expression before. He didn't like it.

"What...what are you talking about?" Tsukishima fumbled with his words, his hand leaving Kuroo's hair as he crossed his arms. "No way, that's embarrassing."

Something in Kuroo's stomach twisted, a weird foreboding creeping through his veins. Still, he put on an easy grin, a joking tone. "Aw c'mon, I sing all the time while we're in the car..."

Tsukishima didn't crack a smile. "I don't like singing in front of people, I told you already. I can put on some music if--"

"Why not? It's just us, I don't care," Kuroo insisted, and he knew at this point, he was pushing. He had to stop. But that feeling in his heart kept growing, the feeling that Tsukishima was hiding from him. Why? "I wanna hear your voice."

Tsukishima just stared at him, expression unreadable, until his next words trickled out of his mouth cautiously, carefully.

"You hate my singing, and I'm talking to you right now," Tsukishima said with a frustrated sigh. "Isn't that enough?"

"But you love singing, don't you," Kuroo said, more a statement than anything. Tsukishima bit his lip, the chapped skin cracking.

"Love is a strong word," he mumbled, staring at his hands. Kuroo kicked himself, but he couldn't reel himself in. He hadn't realized how upset this had been making him, how confused. He was being a dick now, but--

"You do. So why won't you sing?" He asked, trying to tack on a forced laugh so he could at least try to keep up the lighthearted mood he was pretending to be in.

Something in Tsukishima's expression snapped. The blond glared, one of those cold, icy ones which would stop anyone in their tracks. "Why won't you drop it? I told you I don't want to, I just get shy. Why are you being so insistent about it?"

And like that, Kuroo's stupid drive for the truth shattered into pieces. Tsukishima's eyes were bright with a weird mix of confusion and anger, his words too frenzied for his usually calm nature. It was Kuroo's fault.

What are you doing man?

He sighed loudly, wishing he could bang his head against the wall, but he figured that would solve nothing in the long run.

He'd let himself get carried away, and he knew better. Tsukishima kept looking anywhere but him, and the warmth from before had faded away. Now there was nothing, just a staleness he wanted to escape as soon as he could. He never should've forced anything on Tsukishima, they'd had this conversation before. He respected the blond's choice to not sing, no matter how bizarre it was.

Kuroo cared about Tsukishima, trusted him. Even if he was hiding something, Kuroo had to be careful about solving the mystery. He knew he wouldn't be able to help it, wouldn't be able to stay away. It was just who he was. Curious, determined. But he refused to lose Tsukishima along the way.

Plus, he was a man of science. Things had to be tested to achieve any level of truth.

No more bulldozing. No more hurting his blond, all Kuroo wanted to do was curl up next to him, and rest.

The strained silence between them wasn't what Kuroo wanted, and tentatively, he reached forward, uncrossing Tsukishima's arms gently. He hated when he did that around him, that wasn't how they were supposed to be. Tsukishima let it happen easily, his face softening in a rare show of guilt, and yeah, Kuroo felt twice as shitty.

But he could fix this, for now at least.

Kuroo placed his hand on Tsukishima's knee, not wanting to overstep too soon. "Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done...whatever that was," he laughed, wincing at the sound a second later. "I was being a dick, alright? I don't care if you sing or not I just...I know you love it so much, I started feeling like you were forcing yourself not to around me. So I got sort of...upset, because I want you to be comfortable and--"

"Tetsurou, I am...comfortable," Tsukishima said, his voice hesitating at the blatant admission. The tops of his cheeks were flushed pink, but the glare still burned Kuroo's skin. Mostly because part of his reasoning was a lie. But he couldn't just come out and say 'sorry, my friend thinks you're a siren, and I'm starting to think so too' could he? He didn't like lying to Tsukishima, but...holy fuck this situation was so weird. If Oikawa was wrong, which he probably was, Kuroo was going to feel like the world's biggest idiot.

"But--"

"I'm more comfortable with you than I've ever felt with anyone, so shut up," Tsukishima insisted, quickly, and all the honesty looked like it was physically hurting him. But Tsukishima was trying, was doing this for Kuroo.

God, I'm the worst.

"And yeah whatever, I like to sing but I just don't like to around people," Tsukishima said with a sigh. Kuroo scolded himself when he had to stop himself from asking why. It wasn't important right then. "It's not just a you thing. My parents, my friends, I hate having an audience, that's all. It's not because I'm not close to you, because..."

And, in an attempt to murder Kuroo on the spot, Tsukishima leaned forward, pecking Kuroo on the lips in the blink of an eye.

"...obviously that's not true," Tsukshima finished, quietly, and he didn't leave Kuroo much of a choice. He leaned forward, seizing Tsukishima's lips again, kisses only broken my muttered apologies and the eventual laughter as the tension faded, forgotten.

In the morning, Kuroo felt refreshed and light, with an underlying current of resolve rushing through his veins. As much as he loved Tsukishima, last night had only confirmed his suspicions. Something bigger was going on, and he had to know.

He left Tsukishima's apartment, happy and as lovesick as ever, kissing the blond goodbye before returning to his own home.

Oikawa must've returned at some point earlier in the morning, because he sat at the table, munching on some toast while he flipped through cake catalogues. When Kuroo walked into the room from the balcony, Oikawa's face twisted in confusion, but Kuroo didn't give him the chance to speak.

"So, what's your plan?"

--

This was not going to fucking work.

"I changed my mind, I wanna go home," Kuroo deadpanned as he watched Oikawa crouch beneath a few bushes. There's a bench ten feet from us...

Iwaizumi looked perhaps even less hopeful than Kuroo did, but his eyes still shone with the slightest fondness as he watched his boyfriend execute his painfully stupid plan. Iwaizumi probably wasn't new to any of the brunet's antics, in fact he probably found them endearing.

Can't relate.

That was just how love worked though, Kuroo guessed. He ignored the guilt that stabbed his chest.

"There's no going back now," Oikawa whispered, making them look more suspicious than need be. Seriously, they could just sit...

The greenhouse sat across the cobblestone path in front of them. They were hidden, but had a fairly good view of anyone coming in and out of the greenhouse. Not like that helped them any, what could they tell just from looking on the outside? This whole plan was amateurish at best.

"How are we supposed to get proof anyways?" Iwaizumi chimed in, his brow furrowed in confusion. The scribbles in Oikawa's notebook had offered no clarity whatsoever. "If he really is a siren, won't I just be hypnotized? Or something..."

Iwaizumi blushed at the fact he was actually hypothesizing. Oikawa's influence always meant trouble for everyone...

"That's why you're going to record everything on your phone!" Oikawa practically vibrated with excitement, and Kuroo liked this idea less and less. "Once we see Tsukishima walk into the greenhouse, you'll turn on your camera and put it in your front pocket!"

Looking down, Iwaizumi indeed noticed the two front pockets on his jacket. He shot an unimpressed look at his boyfriend, and yeah, now he looked how Kuroo felt. "Is this why you made such a fuss about picking out my clothes this morning?"

Oikawa shrugged, his face bright and his smile positively infuriating. "Aw babe, don't say it like that! I also bought that for you, ya know. And look! We're matching!" Oikawa gestured to his navy blue sweater, a nice compliment to the jean jacket and navy sweater Iwaizumi wore, and Kuroo wanted to barf.

"Okay and then what?" Kuroo asked, pushing his hair back in frustration. He hated this idea so far, or maybe he hated the guilt laced behind it. Was he really this desperate? So desperate, he was going to spy on his boyfriend just for some farfetched theory?

He honestly didn't know anymore, the questions bouncing around his head making him sick. This was ridiculous. He should've just asked Tsukishima straight out about the siren thing, no matter how stupid he might sound.

But Kuroo couldn't dwell on his failed communication skills, he couldn't turn back either. Something about seeing Iwaizumi setting up the camera made Kuroo want to see things through. He'd pushed this far already, he'd have to suffer the consequences if he got caught.

"Well duh, Iwaizumi will hear him sing, fall under the spell, and...well...I don't actually know what happens after that," Oikawa said, his face stony from thinking. "Or if it happens like that at all...that's why this'll be interesting!"

You're so sure you'll be right...

What did Oikawa know? Kicking at the dirt, Kuroo scoffed. "Hope so. You're sure comfortable with sending your boyfriend out to be seduced, must be worth it..."

Okay so maybe Kuroo was simply being pissy at this point, but he did feel a great deal of satisfaction from the way Oikawa's hands tightened in the fabric of Iwaizumi's shirt, his face twisted into a grimace. Kuroo hated the thought too, despised the idea of anyone hitting on his blond, fake or not.

He just wanted Oikawa to share some of his frustration, even if only a little. In this situation, being an observer simply didn't feel fair.

Kuroo tried not to remember all the guys he'd seen coming onto Tsukishima, lest he imagine Iwaizumi in their place. Iwaizumi was just lucky Kuroo liked him. Not that Kuroo would get out of that fight scratch free if they weren't friends, since Iwaizumi was fucking ripped, but like hell would Kuroo go down easy.

"It's for...science so it--it's fine," Oikawa hissed, and Iwaizumi's hands immediately covered Oikawa's trembling ones. They always did this weird thing, where it was as if they could communicate without speaking. Iwaizumi would look deep into Oikawa's eyes, and a natural dialogue started, the product of years of built up trust and devotion. It was too intimate for Kuroo to stand for too long, especially with how shitty he felt, so he turned away to let them have their moment.

As Oikawa made sure to make the phone less visible, Kuroo noticed a certain blond enter the greenhouse across the road, and the reality of the situation finally sank in his stomach like a heavy stone.

No going back now.

--

Stepping into the greenhouse had become less of an escape for Tsukishima, and more of an instant relief. As he crossed the threshold onto the soil stained floor, he shut the door lightning fast, his vocal chords practically begging for release of some kind.

The urge left him powerless, the pull inescapable. The strength to resist diminished more with each passing day with Kuroo, every stupid text sent during lectures, every lazy day spent in Tsukishima's bed. Part of it continued to unnerve Tsukishima. How had it gotten like this? But like his resistance against the notes wanting to flow from his soul, the need to care about that also began to lessen drastically. Perhaps Bokuto had been right all along.

A singing siren is a happy siren.

Tsukishima scoffed at his own silly thoughts, focusing on his work. Of course, that didn't stop the music.

It started as humming usually, a slow, melodic buzzing which carried through the large space and eased the tension in his shoulders. Then, as he busied himself with his tasks, it grew louder and louder, eventually turning into lyrics which echoed off the walls. Like a mini concert hall, the acoustics adored Tsukishima's voice, and he couldn't bring himself to stop.

He liked to think it benefited the plants too, or at least, that had been his poor excuse given to Bokuto the other day.

Either way, Tsukishima felt light as air, and his voice only grew in liveliness as he worked.

Well, until something in the air shifted, and a door slammed behind him. His notes halted, cut off unnaturally and falling like shards in the air. It made Tsukishima cringe, the interruption making his skin crawl before he'd even fully registered it.

He really did hate having an audience.

Watering can half full, Tsukishima turned and glared at his unwelcome visitor. He cursed himself for not locking the door behind him, but the thought got cut short by the sheer strangeness of this situation.

This guy...wasn't coming up to him. Yet, Tsukishima could tell he'd been affected. The other's intense grey eyes were wet and dazed, almost empty of all emotion other than the usual lust. No doubt about it, he'd heard Tsukishima sing. Not good. Tsukishima's voice had been a forced to be reckoned with lately. It would take a while for this guy to snap out of it.

He looks familiar...

Something about the spiked hair and tan skin picked at Tsukishima's brain, but he couldn't figure it out. Shaking the thought away, Tsukishima put the can down, walking slowly towards the other. It at least got a reaction.

"Why'd you stop singing? I liked your singing..." The other said, his voice near a sigh. It was the same, annoying dreamy voice which guys always used on him. It was only cute when Kuroo did it. Still, there was no 'you're so pretty' or 'I'll do anything for you' thrown in, which was...different. Usually dudes wouldn't shut up. They'd pester the hell out of Tsukishima, flirting and begging and whatever else they thought would work.

This guy just stood there blinking.

I wonder...

"Yeah I'm sure, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave now," Tsukishima said, keeping his voice calm. Anger didn't exactly make the spell break faster.

The stranger's brow furrowed. "But...then I can't hear you sing. I want to hear you sing. I mean it..."

"No, you don't," Tsukishima sighed. "Listen..."

"I'll...do anything..."

Ah, there it was, if not a little more strained than usual. This guy was a fighter. Tsukishima squinted, crossing his arms. "You really don't mean that. You'll only regret it later. Don't you have a girlfriend or something?"

"Boyfriend," the other answered easily. Yeah, that explained it. It was harder to enchant those who were already in love with someone else, though not by much. All Tsukishima would have to do to break that resistance would be singing again with a bit more purpose. Then he could make this poor soul do anything he wanted, fall head over heels for him. Of course, he felt no need to do that. Tsukishima didn't need someone else's boyfriend, he had his own. Plus, now that he did have one, he had to respect the stranger's deep-rooted loyalty. Even under a siren song, he still clung to whatever he could of his partner.

Tsukishima massaged his temples, wondering how it always came to this. All he'd wanted to do was tend to the greenhouse, but no.

"You really do need to leave then. I'm not going to sing for you," he said, frustrated. He just wanted this to be over. "I'm not--"

"Why not? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you--"

"Is it because of the camera?"

Tsukishima froze, his gaze locking on the desperate look in the other's eyes. Something cold ran through Tsukishima's veins, a piercing fear, like fast acting poison. No...

No, he didn't hear right.

Tsukishima throat suddenly felt dry as Bokuto's face flashed in his mind, along with all the other fellow sirens he'd grown up with. His community, his existence. All of it, potentially at risk. It had to be a mistake...

"What camera?" He asked slowly, trying to keep his voice from cracking. All the while his mind raced with questions. How had he been found out? Was he being watched? Were there more people outside? Was Bokuto okay?

"This one," the other said, like it was nothing, pulling out his phone from his coat pocket. Delicately, Tsukishima took it, eyes wide. Sure enough, the camera app was open, recording the whole interaction. "Kuroo and Oikawa wanted to spy on you, since guys are always hitting on you--"

Something in Tsukishima snapped.

Kuroo and Oikawa.

The same chill ran through him again, but it was less fearful now, angrier.

Suddenly, the dots connected themselves. He knew this guy had looked familiar. Iwaizumi Hajime was a name which came up quite a lot in his conversations with Kuroo. This was Oikawa's boyfriend. Tsukishima had seen pictures of him in frames around Kuroo's apartment.

All three of them were working together. How cute.

"What?" He asked, feeling like he could spit venom. The hand around the phone was so tight, he felt he might snap it in half. The anger already started to boil inside him, but he willed himself to stay calm, to wait for an explanation, no matter how upset he already was. "But why..."

"Kuroo was suspicious. But not me, it wasn't me I promise," Iwaizumi pleaded, probably still too far gone and eager to please Tsukishima.

But Tsukishima didn't care anymore. He could only focus on the large grip around his heart, squeezing it until it burst.

With shaking hands, he deleted the video.

--

It didn't take long for Kuroo to realize the plan had failed.

A few pacing fueled minutes had passed since Iwaizumi had gone into the greenhouse, and Kuroo thought the wait would never end. Now though, he began to think it came too quickly.

The door to the greenhouse slammed open, letting out a very pissed off Tsukishima. The blond's eyes scanned the whole area, seething, his eyes ablaze. In his hand sat Iwaizumi's phone. Shit.

Behind Tsukishima, Iwaizumi trailed out slowly, hand on his head and a dazed look on his face.

Kuroo hardly paid him any mind though, his only concern was--

"Hey," Tsukishima hissed, his shoulders shaking as he stomped up to Kuroo's hiding place. Oikawa watched in concern for only a fleeting moment, gaze flashing with guilt and confusion before he ran off to talk with Iwaizumi. Kuroo didn't hold it against him, after all, Kuroo had to deal with this on his own.

A phone flew at his chest, and he just barely caught it. Yeah, he deserved that. He deserved everything he was about to hear. He wouldn't try to defend himself right away. Like a stupid kid, he shrunk in on himself, but kept his eyes on his boyfriend. That was the least he could fucking do.

"Don't bother looking at it, I deleted the video," Tsukishima said, voice a disturbing level of calm. But Kuroo knew better. He heard the shaky breaths and fluctuations. Fuck, he was absolute shit. "What the hell Kuroo? Is this some kind of joke?"

Kuroo would've loved if it had been just that. Then he could play this off as nothing more than a prank. Something told him Tsukishima already knew though, the hurt in his voice said enough. And well, Kuroo wasn't a liar at heart.

"No, I...I'm just an idiot, I let Oikawa convince me to spy on you and--"

Tsukishima laughed, the sound humorless and biting. "So now you're blaming your friends?"

"What? No! No. You're right," Kuroo said, dropping his hands. "It's all my fault, all of it. I'm sorry. I got suspicious and--"

"Suspicious. Suspicious of what exactly?"

Kuroo froze, words caught in his throat. He tried to step forward, because part of him ached to have Tsukishima in his arms despite the mess he'd made, but the blond deliberately stepped away.

Well damn, how did Kuroo come out and say the real reasons behind this? I thought you were a siren because I'm being a delusional bastard, but obviously I was wrong. Yeah, that would go over well with his pissed off boyfriend.

He didn't get a chance to say anything though, much less a new excuse, because Tsukishima had his own ideas in his head, and Kuroo's silence hadn't helped one bit.

"You really thought I would cheat on you so easily huh? I get hit on a few times and suddenly it's my fault, I was just gonna jump at any guy you sent my way?" Tsukishima said, and the emptiness there had Kuroo's blood running cold. Kuroo really had betrayed him, and his tone dripped with the raw emotion. Kuroo never wanted to be the cause of it again.

Space and caution be damned, Kuroo grabbed Tsukishima by the shoulders, panic setting in. "That's not true at all! I promise it's not, this--this isn't what I wanted!"

"Don't touch me!" Tsukishima ignored Kuroo's sputtering protests and started to move away, shaking off Kuroo's grip, and with each step, the distance made Kuroo want to vomit. He didn't want to lose Tsukishima, that's what he'd told himself huh? What a joke.

Kuroo chased after him for only a few steps, uselessly pleading. "Tsukki! Kei, please, you don't understand, let me--"

Tsukishima spun around, and the message came across loud and clear. Fuck. Off. "All I understand is that you don't trust me. But thanks for letting me know." Tsukishima's voice finally cracked on the last syllable, and Kuroo felt his stomach drop.

With that, Tsukishima wretched away completely from Kuroo's reach, storming off and out of Kuroo's sight.

All the while, Kuroo just stood there, feeling the warmth flood out of him.