#quiet magic in the last day of school

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

It’s the last day of school before Christmas, and the first thing Eddie hears when he enters Family Video is Steve Harrington saying, “Fuck this,” which seems kinda unreasonable; he’s not even done anything yet.

But then Steve continues, his voice turning distant as he heads to the back of the store—“I don’t care what the goddamn handbook says, the radiator’s goin’ on full blast,”—and Eddie realises he hasn’t actually been noticed at all.

Not by Steve, at least. 

Robin Buckley is standing by the computer. She’s checking her watch; Eddie can see the thought cross her mind, that he should’ve been out of class over an hour ago, like she was.

All of a sudden, he feels uncomfortably aware of what he must look like: drenched from the rain, dripping water onto the carpet. 

“Hey, Munson. O’Donnell got you working overtime, huh?”

Eddie fakes a laugh. He doesn’t know Robin that much—but still just well enough to know she doesn’t mean anything by it.

So he nods and rolls his eyes, concocts a story about an unjust detention; he even embellishes it with a pinch of truth as he brings the video tapes out from the shelter of his jacket. Says that his last-ditch attempt at improving his grade before the holidays was offering to return the videos O’Donnell rented for her classes.

He doesn’t mention the fact that he stayed behind voluntarily. That he spent all that time staring down at a perpetually unfinished essay, gripping his pen with an all too familiar desperation. That kind of honesty somehow feels more embarrassing than lying; it always has.

Robin takes the videos from him. “Okay, tell me if that works,” she says, with a hint of sarcasm; she’s joking, Eddie reminds himself, but not in a mean way. “Because I’d be returning, like, so many library books if…”

She trails off with a frown, eyes on the computer screen. Glances to the stack of video tapes before punching in something.

Eddie doesn’t mind the wait; it’s only now that he’s really appreciating just how cold he is. He shakes some water off his jacket sleeve, fingers numb, and realises too late that he’s creating a puddle on the floor. 

“Uh, sorry for, um. Dripping,” he says awkwardly, but Robin doesn’t seem to hear him; she just keeps frantically tapping on the keyboard.

Outside, the wind picks up even more, throwing rain against the windows. 

There’s the creak of a door swinging open somewhere in the back, followed by a voice calling, “What’s up?”

Eddie startles—he almost forgot that it wasn’t just him and Robin in here. He watches Steve sidle up to the register.

“It’s this stupid—“ Robin gestures to the computer with frustration. “It keeps going all, you know, aaaah.” She draws out the sound, wiggling her fingers.

Surprisingly, Steve catches Eddie’s eye with a wry look. “Technical term,” he says, deadpan.

If Eddie didn’t know that he was the only other person in the room, he’d think that surely he’d been mistaken for someone else.

Not that he thinks Steve would ignore him outright; it’s just that they’ve not got much history—no fleeting camaraderie forged from sitting next to one another in class. Sure, they crossed paths as much as anyone did in Hawkins, Steve a recurring figure in Eddie’s peripheral; he knew of his existence, obviously, it’s Steve Harrington, but nothing more than…

A collage of all the times Steve’s picture has appeared in the school newspaper flickers through Eddie’s mind. Okay, but that was because of The Tigers, and the swimming team, and—anyone would’ve noticed that—

His justification is brought to a halt at a particularly fierce howl of wind; Robin flinches so badly that she knocks the video tapes onto the floor. 

“Just the wind,” Steve says quietly.

As he speaks, he gently nudges Robin out of the way with his hip. Picks up the fallen tapes.

And to anyone else, it might seem kind—and nothing more. 

But there’s something almost imperceptible in the way Steve does it, Eddie can’t get away from that fact: a meaning behind the words that he can’t grasp.

Then he hears Wayne’s voice in his head—son, you know fine well when something’s none of your damn business—and tells his curiosity to quit it.

“Sorry, it’s still not working,” Robin says, giving the computer one last thump. “I can, um, write you a receipt? To prove you returned them? So O’Donnell doesn’t get all…”

Eddie nods. “Sure.”

Robin gets a pen out of her shirt pocket and writes a receipt, triple-checking the movie titles as she does so.

Eddie thanks her as she hands over the paper. Catches himself hesitating. 

There it is: the familiar prickle of discomfort, not knowing what else to say. Jesus Christ, isn’t that a failure on its own? Another year at school, and you’d think he’d be somewhat closer to other students, just from the sheer amount of time they’ve spent together in the same four walls. And yet, he’s starting to feel more distant than ever.

Granted, there’s Hellfire, but on bad days even that chafes, not that he’d ever admit it. Like he’s playing a part far bigger than who he actually is.

Eddie expects to just walk out without another word being said. In fact, he’s bracing himself for the cold again, almost at the door, when Steve inexplicably speaks up.

“Are you actually leaving?”

Eddie turns around. Steve’s leaning by the desk with his arms folded, looking at him expectantly.

Eddie’s half-convinced there’s a joke he’s not getting.

“Uh, yeah?” he says. He tries to ensure that ‘what the fuck else am I supposed to do?’ goes unheard, but from the way Steve’s eyebrows rise, he doesn’t think he succeeds. 

Steve gives a pointed, dubious look outside. “Dude, you wanna drown out there?”

Eddie rocks back on his heels. There’d be a time where he would really snap back at that (the first time he flunked out, maybe), but now he’s more caught off-guard. 

So he just glances outside and says, “Ideally, no.”

Steve gives a slight huff of laughter at that, shaking his head.

“Look, I’m just saying, man, I’m not gonna be driving till it clears up. Thought I was gonna need a canoe just to get into the parking lot.” He turns to Robin as if looking for agreement, stacking the tapes Eddie returned as he adds, “I said that when I drove you in, right?”

“I dunno, I’ve had crazier journeys,” Robin says.

Steve rolls his eyes like she’s made a corny joke—but he’s grinning like he just can’t help himself.

Eddie watches with a flicker of amusement rather than irritation, which catches him unawares. If he was honest, he’d felt drained not even a few seconds ago. But seeing Steve and Robin’s back-and-forth sparks an unexpected urge to respond in kind.

“Since when were you the spokesperson for road safety, Harrington?”

Robin snorts.

Steve shrugs. “At least wait until it’s not so brutal out there.”

And what brings Eddie up short is that, despite the dry tone, Steve sounds sincere. It leaves him struggling for an acceptable reply.

Before he can work one out, Steve steps to the side and pushes a swivel chair with his foot, right into Eddie’s path.

Eddie sits down in silent bewilderment.

He braces instinctively for an unbearable awkwardness, but it’s not so bad: Steve and Robin just continue working. It gives him time to try and dry his jacket off, at least, and when that ends up a lost cause, he turns to noticing the background noise in the store.

There’s a TV overhead playing It’s a Wonderful Life; George Bailey and Mary Hatch are about to Charleston right into the swimming pool.

Steve wanders into his eye line, scanning the aisles with a clipboard. Eddie doesn’t actually know how long he’s been there. He’d kinda got caught up in watching the movie. Steve seems to notice that; it’s gone too quick for Eddie to be sure, but his lips might’ve quirked, as if in approval.

“Hey, d’you want me to take your jacket? I’ve got mine and Robin’s on the radiator in the back.”

Eddie does his best not to stare. It’s a habit he’s still not shaken off: waiting for the other shoe to drop when anyone apart from Wayne is so… so…

“Didn’t realise this place was a hotel, Harrington.”

Despite his misgivings, he shrugs off the still damp jacket; Steve’s already stuck his hand out for it.

“Not everyone gets this treatment, Munson. You just haven’t annoyed me yet.”

“Then what am I doing wrong?” Eddie returns flatly. 

This time Steve’s smile is obvious.

“Don’t move my scarf off the radiator!” Robin calls as she wheels a trolley of tapes.

“What do you take me for?” Steve says.

He disappears into the back again, returning empty-handed when the phone rings. He mutters at it before he picks it up, “Yeah, of course you still work,” and it’s not endearing, Eddie tells himself. It’s not.

And no, he isn’t listening in to the phone call. That’d be… that’d be stupid. It’s just that the movie isn’t all that loud, so he can’t help but…

“Hello, Family Video? Oh, hi, Mrs Wilcox, how are… Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.” Steve listens to whatever’s being said on the other end. His eyes find the TV, and then he’s silently mouthing along to George and Mary singing, ‘Buffalo Gals.’ “Oh, are you kidding? No, no, stay inside. It’s not a problem, I can just—yeah, of course. I’ll push it back to after the holidays. Yeah. Yeah, you too. Thanks for calling. Enjoy the movie!”

He hangs up, absentmindedly humming. Eddie quickly looks away.

He notices then that he’s sitting right on the edge of his seat like an idiot. He makes an attempt to sit back—be normal, just be fucking normal—but there’s a rigidity he can’t quite shift, that’s been stuck there probably since middle school, when the cafeteria was full of whispers, did you see the new kid? There, the one with the buzz cut.

“Steve, you off the phone?”

“Yeah. Hey, Rob, if I forget, could you make a note to extend Donna Wilcox’s rental? I’ll do it when we’re back, if the computer’s—”

“Sure, sure. Um, so—”

“Oh, God, what?”

Robin grins, a mixture of sheepish and teasing. Eddie stays put. Has she forgotten he’s here? Should he move? Leave? Yeah, he should leave, they’re not gonna notice… He’ll grab his jacket, slip away; the weather’s not that bad—

“I’ve got something for you to—”

Steve waves his hands in disagreement. “Nope, we said we weren’t doing presents!”

“It’s not really a—my grandma wouldn’t listen, Steve, it’s, like, more of a punishment, honestly, just—just wait there.”

There’s a clatter as Robin rushes off, scattering some more tapes off the trolley. The employee door slams shut behind her.

Steve tsks to himself, but picks up the tapes again. As he bends down, he glances over his shoulder with a brief ‘what can you do?’ sort of expression—which forces Eddie to consider the fact that he hasn’t been forgotten.

He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

He settles for an attempt at nonchalance: sticks a foot out to spin the chair ever so slightly, just side to side, and says, “So, uh, is this job just throwing tapes on the floor?”

“Yeah, we take turns,” Steve says without missing a beat.

He scoops up a tape, twirls it deftly before slotting it into place on the shelf. Eddie should probably find it annoying.

He doesn’t.

In the silence, he tries to lose himself in the movie again, at least a little bit, but he can’t manage it—feels too aware of himself, the creak of the seat as he moves even the tiniest amount, the restless fidgeting that he doesn’t even want to be doing, but knowing that never helps him stop—

“Ta-da!”

Eddie turns in time to see a blur of red; Robin’s just thrown something at Steve, who catches it easily—of course he does, Eddie thinks, but he can’t pretend that the thought comes from a place of resentment, not even inside his own head.

It’s a sweater. Steve unfolds it with a cackling laugh; there’s not a trace of the artificial veneer of high school in the sound.

Unlike you, whispers a nasty inner voice.

Steve’s still laughing. “Robin, this is the best—”

“Shut up, no, it’s so bad.” Robin hoists herself up to sit on the desk. “Grandma did the actual work, all the bits that are messed up are from me—”

“You knitted this?”

Steve beams. Eddie notices that there’s an endearingly crooked tilt to one of his incisors.

And then Steve’s glancing around like he’s checking no-one else has come into the store. He ducks out of view of the windows, but is still very much in Eddie’s view as he throws off his work vest, yanks his shirt up over his head, and…

Eddie suddenly feels like he’s been flung back into the claustrophobic space of the school locker rooms, the dread of changing for phys ed. The voice in his head gets louder: don’t look, don’t look; they’ll know. 

But Steve doesn’t seem to care. He just leaves his shirt in a heap on the floor, wincing overexaggeratedly at the cold, and practically dives into the sweater with a boyish glee.

He laughs again; the sleeves are far too long. “I love it.”

“You do?” Robin says, and while she’s playing up her dubiousness, Eddie can hear how she’s pleased underneath it all.

“Uh, yeah!”

The back of Steve’s hair is ruffled from how eagerly he put the sweater on—but instead of fixing it, he focuses on artfully rolling up his sleeves.

Eddie should look away. Should, at the very least, attempt to appear like he’s zoned out, in a world of his own.

And yet…

Despite everything, he watches Steve Harrington with all the silent, rapt attention he usually reserves for movies.

Moth to a fucking flame, Eddie thinks, resigned.

“Suits me, huh?” Steve says to Robin; he does a stupid little move, one hand on his hip, like he’s on the front cover of a magazine.

“And you’re modest, too.”

“You just don’t know style when you see it.”

Steve’s at the desk now, nudging one of Robin’s feet playfully, before turning round to lean against the corner again. “Hey, Munson, what do you think?”

Eddie finds himself fighting the instinct to reply with something undeservedly cutting. He’d just be trying to cover, anyway, using barbs to conceal what the question makes him feel: something akin to the franticness when confronted in class with a test he hasn’t studied for.

And he looks. Really looks—his heart slowing, the initial panic from the flash of bare skin fading away.

Steve’s right; the sweater does suit him, in all its homemade charm. The shade of red is flattering, brings out his eyes: maroon, if Eddie had to put a name to it, although he suspects that the colour’s actually got nothing to do with it, more the way Steve holds himself—a quiet, certain confidence that’s always been out of Eddie’s reach.

He inwardly gives himself a shake as Steve and Robin keep waiting on his response.

This isn’t school, idiot; they’re not trying to catch you out.

“I’m hardly an expert on high fashion, Harrington,” Eddie says—thinks he just manages to pull off the lazy, unbothered drawl.

“Well, you have a look,” Steve says faux delicately, like he’s being incredibly generous.

Eddie cracks a genuine smile; it sort of weakens the whole aloof thing he’d settled on, but he surprisingly doesn’t care all that much.

“Damned with faint praise.”

Steve scoffs as if to say touché. His gaze catches on something outside, and Eddie wonders if it’s an actual customer, if it’s time for whatever all of this is to stop.

But all Steve does is poke Robin’s foot and add, pointedly singsong, “Rain’s stopped.”

“So?” Robin asks.

“I think it’s in between storms,” Steve says sagely. “Like, we’ve got a little window before more rain hits.”

“Great, Steve, I’ll love waving that opportunity bye.”

Steve tuts. “Rob, I’m saying we should ditch. Come on, it’s been dead all day. We can be home early and warm, it’s, like, single-handedly the best plan I’ve ever had.”

Better than when you won the championship game? Eddie thinks—wisely keeps that strictly to himself, because he’ll admit following Hawkins High’s basketball results on pain of death.

Robin looks torn. “I don’t know, Steve, what if—”

“Who’s gonna tell?” Steve says, gesturing around at the empty store. He nods at Eddie, says sarcastically, “Oh yeah, Eddie Munson, known snitch.”

“You flatter me,” Eddie says. He surprises himself at how easily it slips out, like for once, there was no need to overthink it.

“See? Rob-in,” Steve wheedles, “come on, I’ll cash out. You and your grandma could knit for hours.”

“Shut up,” Robin says fondly. “Fine! Quick, quick, I’ll flip the sign.”

The whole thing resembles a military operation, with how speedily Steve and Robin manage to close the store. Eddie stands up and moves the swivel chair out of the way, but feels almost exposed without it.

Steve’s just finished at the register when he catches Eddie’s eye. He snaps his fingers, “Oh, shit, yeah,” and yells over his shoulder to Robin in the back room, “Hey, pick up Munson’s jacket, too!” Then he’s stuffing a couple of tapes into a backpack. “Want one?”

Eddie blinks, confused. “What?”

Steve wiggles one of the movies in demonstration before zipping up his bag. “I always take some home. As long as you have it back by, uh,” he waves a hand vaguely, “some time in the New Year, whatever.” He clicks his tongue. “Damn it, forgot to turn this off…”

It’s a Wonderful Life falls silent.

Through the whir of it rewinding, Eddie speaks almost without meaning to. “Can I have that one?”

Steve looks up at him in faint surprise. “Sure. Hang on, I’ll just find…”

He ejects the tape and passes it to Eddie. It’s still warm from being played.

And then the case is being handed over, too—there’s scraps of paper folded in the corners, rolls of receipt in Steve and Robin’s handwriting: games of tic-tac-toe and movie recommendations.

As Eddie puts the tape inside, a thought occurs to him. “Wait, uh. Were you gonna take this one home, too?”

Steve’s folding up his discarded shirt and vest. He smiles, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think there was something shy in it.

“Oh, nope. I—” He laughs under his breath. “I have it already.”

The back door bursts open to reveal Robin all wrapped up in a scarf. She throws Eddie his jacket, jangles some keys and imitates Steve’s half-singing when she announces, “I’ll lock up.”

The wind’s thankfully died down so the contrast from inside to the parking lot isn’t terrible—though that’s probably helped by the fact that Eddie’s jacket is warmed right through from the radiator.

As he gets to the van, he expects that Robin and Steve will already be out of the parking lot. But when he slides into the driver’s seat, he sees Robin’s the only one actually inside Steve’s car; Steve’s half-in, half out, one hand on the roof. 

“Safe journey, Munson!”

And maybe it’s just how Steve’s voice is anyway, but it sounds like it’s more than just a platitude. Like it means something.

Eddie honks his horn in reply. He lets Steve drive out first—his car’s parked closer to the road—and absentmindedly drums his fingers on the VHS case in the passenger seat.

This was a fluke, he tells himself. Like a movie being played in last period, the curtains drawn—how it always feels kind of like a dream.

Still, he drives home warm. Thinks in a gentler voice, one that sounds like Wayne—a reminder that not everything is a trap waiting to spring shut on him.

#featuring the anxiety of growing up gay in a small town #quiet magic in the last day of school #realising ‘oh i think i finally get who you are.’ #eddie munson fic #pre steddie #steddie fic #steve and robin #eddie and robin #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie

[satorusugurugurl]

JJK Men: Seeing You Without Makeup For the First Time

Warning: Fluffy sweetness, insecurities, suggestiveness, language

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo, Modern!Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento

Word Count: 2,993

A/N: Ah yes, I love this trope. It was fun to write!! Please Enjoy, don't blame me from any cavities from this sweet fluff. Request Open.

Gojo Satoru:

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the only thing keeping your eyes open. You grumbled and cursed the sun for rising another day as you leaned over the kitchen counter, watching the magic bean juice filling your cup. The higher-ups must not like you because the mission they just sent you on was hell.

A week, a damn week, you were gone. A week from your bed, students, and your boyfriend. Stupid old men and their dumb missions. But who were you to complain if you paid your bills and you were able to teach the next generation of sorcerers? So life wasn't that bad.

Then again, your somewhat happy outlook on life might be the sleep deprivation talking.

The bastards were sweet enough to give you one day to recuperate. There was no time to relax, though. You had laundry to sort through, groceries to pick up, and the normal mundane things you'd missed out on during the WEEK you were gone!

A day off was a day off despite it being a busy one. You would get it all done after you drank this coffee Satoru got you from Mexico on his last mission. As soon as you downed it, you would off. You were already dressed to go. You had on sweats and a t-shirt, and you opted out of putting on any makeup, seeing that you would just be running around.

Your phone chimed as Satoru’s name popped up on your screen. You smiled as you opened the chat.

Satoru: Good morning, beautiful! 😙 Welcome back! I had breakfast delivered to you; enjoy! 🍳🥓🧇

“Oh, he's getting laid later.” You squealed, running for the door to your apartment.

You flung it open, staring at the ground, expecting a bag, but instead, you were greeted by shoes. Designer shoes that you knew all too well. Slowly trailing up dark uniform pants and jacket that was from the same school you worked at. Further up, you caught sight of a wide grin, a blindfold, and fluffy white hair. All of which belongs to your boyfriend, who was holding a takeout bag.

“Special delivery for Y/L/N Y/N!”

Your boyfriend was here. The same boyfriend who was utterly gorgeous no matter what condition he was in. The man could be caked in blood, and you still wanted to kiss him. Then there was you; you always put in the effort to look nice around him, hair styled, cute outfit, some form of makeup always on.

Today was not one of those days.

In a panic, you squeaked, slamming the door in his face. “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck!?” You glanced around for anything you could use to hide your appearance. You panicked and grabbed the first thing off the couch.

“Uhm, babe?” Satoru questioned, opening the door. “I know you were gone for a week. But I'm Gojo Satoru, your boyfriend.”

“I know!! Sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you!” you had your back turned to him, covering your face with your hands. “T-Thanks for the food! But I have so much to do!”

“Really?”

“Yep! Laundry!”

“I had Ijichi pick it up this morning.”

Fuuuuck.

“O-Okay! I have to get groceries!”

“Your fridge is fully stocked, courtesy of yours truly.”

The room felt like it was shrinking in on you as you listened to him come up behind you. The bag was discarded as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You weren't sure how he would react, seeing your bare face, and that was terrifying.

So many men thought women wearing makeup was like lying. You had always done very light and minimal makeup, but it didn't make it less scary. Sensing the tension, Satoru gently turned you around so you were facing him. He stiffened, his mouth turning from a grin to a shocked expression.

“Y/N?” His voice was so quiet.

“Y-Yeah?”

A choked laugh erupted from his throat. “I-Is that one of my blindfolded?!” He called as you stated at the darkness his blindfold provided. “Oh my god, hold on! Hold on!” You could feel him near you with the camera on his phone clicking. “Oh my god, wait until the second years see this!” Fingers hooked under the blindfold, yanking it up and off your head.

Your hands flew up, hiding your face. Your attempt was foiled as Satoru's gentle hands pulled them away. With a shuddering sigh, you looked up at him, biting your cheek as he fully saw you. For you, no makeup, fancy clothes, or styled hair.

Satoru just smiled, leaning down before he kissed your lips gently. “Welcome home.” He pulled back, tilting his head to the side. “What was with the off-brand cosplay?” Your cheeks are flushed, the darker pigment visible without any trace of makeup.

“I-I don't have any makeup on.”

“Oh!” He straightened, his large hand patting your head. “You're so cute.”

His grin grew wider at the confused expression inching its way over your face. “Seriously? Do you think that? Even without the makeup and the baggy clothes? You still think I'm cute?” Satoru’s head bobbed up and down so fast you thought his head would fall out. His sincere reaction made you giggle, shaking your head. “Satoru, you are so strange. But also extremely sweet.” When you looked up, you blinked, seeing Gojo holding up one side of his blindfold. His bright blue eye looked you over, inching over every curve and surface of you. “Satoru, stop staring.”

“I just was confirming something.” he snapped his blindfold back into place before draping an arm over you.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee while Satoru pulled your breakfast out of the bag. “Confirming what?”

“Just confirming with Six-Eyes that I have the prettiest girlfriend in the entire world.”

Gojo’s smile slowly faded as you slammed the coffee pot down. Oh fuck, what did he say?! You led around; fire swarmed in Y/E/C eyes as you stormed over to him, grabbing his wrist.

“W-What?! What did I say?” He huffed out a gasp as you shoved him onto the couch.

“Everything.”

You unzipped his pants, and Gojo’s eyes were wide behind his blindfold. Even with Six-Eyes, Gojo did not see this coming. Spoiler alert: It was him, he was going to cum.

Choso Kamo:

A knock at your door had you straightening from your spot on the couch. Looking at your phone, you quickly got up. It was well past midnight, and it was never a good sign when someone knocked that late at night on the door.

Much to your relief, when you opened the door to your apartment, your boyfriend looked down at you. “Choso?” a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“I'm sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked before entering your apartment.

“No, I think you just saved me a stiff neck.” You yawned out before locking the door. “Did you and Yuuji finish up with that mission?”

“Yes, he went back home; I wanted to see you.”

Choso watched as you moved around the apartment. You straightened up the pillows on the couch and wiped down your kitchen before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom. The entire time you went about your mundane tasks, Choso just stared. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was different about you.

Choso’s eyes moved over you. Trying to depict what was different tonight. Haircut? No. New pajamas? No, that wasn't it, either. Everything Choso tried to think of wasn't the right answer. Not knowing what it was frustrated him to the point that Choso’s eyebrow twitched.

What had you glowing in the lowlights of your bedroom as you pulled the sheets back? “Cho?” You finally asked with a nervous chuckle. “Are you okay? You're staring holes through me.” Realizing that he had been caught, Choso flinched.

“I'm sorry, sorry I just—” Words trailed off as his cheeks flushed.

You had noticed Choso staring at you since he came inside. The poor guy never saw you without makeup, which was probably strange. He seemed to be struggling, trying to find the words to the mountain of questions he might have.

“It's okay. I think I know what you're going to ask.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you’re going to ask what’s different.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I look different because I’m not wearing makeup.”

Choso tilted his head to the side.”Oh, no, I was going to say you look radiant tonight.” The words that left his mouth had both of you standing in silence.

You just eyed Choso as he smiled, nodding his head like he'd figured out the mystery of what was different. Pleased with his conclusion, he helped you pull the sheets back. His hands smoothed out the covers before he peered up at you. You were blushing, smiling ear to ear as you finished pulling the bed back.

“I just finished doing my skincare routine,” you announced as you crawled into bed after Choso showered. “I have a new serum that is supposed to make you look luminescent.”

Choso studied you carefully as he crawled into bed with you. “Mmm, maybe that’s it.” He pulled you into his arms. “Or maybe it’s just me.” Choso hummed, staring into the face that he loved so much. “Falling in love.” Love?! “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what this is.”

That was the reasoning behind your radiant glow. A glow that always surrounded you no matter what you wore or looked like. Choso saw utter perfection in you. So it only made sense that the reason you looked extra stunning was that he had fallen in love with you even more.

You just snuggled closer into his chest, grinning wide as he yawned. “I love you too, Cho.”

Ryomen Sukuna:

Ten minutes. All it took was ten minutes before chaos erupted in Sukuna’s apartment. He had just finished changing when he heard the commotion. Yuuji and Choso were bickering before you gently tried to break up the argument. The next thing he heard was a scream, your scream, to be exact.

He bolted, running into the kitchen, where he found you wiping at your face. “What the fuck?!” His younger brothers both stood in shock, watching you in fear. Yuuji was holding a box of baking soda, and Choso held a bottle of vinegar.

In the center of the kitchen was the volcano experiment you had been helping Yuuji make. Sukuna was able to put it all together in an instant. He didn't bother yelling. He instead lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom.

“What the hell happened?” You flinched when you felt a warm, wet rag gently cleaning your face off.

“The boys wanted to see how big of an explosion they could make. But you know the boys, they both were arguing about who should do what. Words were said, contents were thrown into a beaker, and I didn't have my safety goggles on.”

Sukuna sighed, continuing to rub off the mess on your face. “You're not hurt, are you?”

“Nope!” Your confident response had your boyfriend chuckling as he wiped more of the foamy goop off your face.

After about five minutes of wiping and rinsing the rag, Sukuna sat on the tub's edge, examining your face. It was without the small amount of makeup you had on and the lighting of the bathroom that he stared at you. You were stunning, gorgeous in everything. But here in the bathroom, his eyes mapped out your face.

“What happened here?” he asked, fingertips pressing against a small scar under your eye.

Thinking it was food coloring, you turned to the mirror, seeing your bare face. “EH?!” You touched it, groaning as you looked back at your boyfriend, who was smirking. “You wiped off all my makeup!” For a second, Sukuna thought he was dealing with a third child in his apartment.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to have vinegar on your face?” You shook your head. “That's what I thought. So confess what happened there?”

“Acne scar.”

A soft him rumbled in his chest before he learned over, thumb grazing over a tiny scar at the bottom of your lip. “This?” gentle fingers moved up, brushing over your bottom lip as he stepped closer towards you.

“I-I fell off my bike.”

You swallowed hard, whimpering as Sukuna’s fingers grazed over your face. You were feeling how soft your delicate skin was. All of you mesmerized him. Every time you came over, he learned a little more about you. And god, he fuckin’ loved that.

His hands gently mapped your face out. The softness had you breathing heavily, his eyes glued to your lips. Having your boyfriend gaze over you with such a soft yet burning gaze had you shifting. The air in the bathroom became thick with need as he slowly slipped your tank top sleeve down.

“Y/N, let me see all of you. I want to map out your body and learn everything it has to say.”

“W-What’s gotten into you?”

The whisper tone of your voice had Sukuna sliding the other sleeve of your tank top down. “You. You’ve crept your way into my heart.” The confession that spilled from his lips has you leaning in, wanting him to touch you everywhere. The same way he had touched your face.

“Hey, is she okay?” Choso’s timid voice whispered through the door. “Yuuji’s worried.”

“Take Yuuji out for ice cream.” Your tank top is slowly pulled over your head. “My card is on my dresser.”

Silence spreads out as you tug Sukuna’s shirt up and off. “R-Really?” hands began working on jeans.

“Yes, I have my own project to work on.” Sukuna turned the shower on, and he never heard Choso collecting Yuuji so fast. Refusing to answer any questions as the door to the apartment slammed shut.

Sukuna’s antics had you giggling, licking your lip, and he stripped you completely. “A project, huh?” he nodded, following you into the shower.

“Yeah, but it won't be vinegar foam that covers that pretty face this time.”

Nanami Kento:

The hotel sheets were cold and crisp over your and your boyfriend's bodies. Between the chill and the heat Nanami was putting out, you felt so comfortable. It was the perfect combination that made you want to relish the feeling forever.

The sun was up, which meant you both would be going home soon. You both had been called out on a mission, one that took a bit longer to handle than you both were anticipating. You missed the last train back to Tokyo. Leaving you both stranded in Kawasaki for the night.

Instead of having one of the assistant supervisors drive all the way out to get you, you and Nanami decided to stay at a hotel. God, it was nice: room service, wine, a hot shower. Missing that last train was a reward for the two of you. Nothing more than relaxation and joy. But the moment Nanami pulled you tighter against him, you realized you didn't have your overnight bag.

Meaning you didn't have your makeup.

“Oh no, oh god no.” You whined as Nanami lifted his head.

“What’s wrong?” His groggy voice asked, trying to assess what was going on.

Burying your face in your pillow, you grumbled, cringing as you felt Nanami shift beside you. “I don't have my bag.” The covers move as Nanami props himself up.

“Your overnight bag?”

“Mhmm.”

Silence stretched out. “Did you need something out of it? Aspirin or tampons? I'll go grab you some.” The sincerity of his words made your heart soar. God, Nanami was the best boyfriend.

“No, no, I'm okay.” You shyly turned, swallowing hard. “I just realized you've never seen me without makeup.”

Nanami’s gaze was soft; honey-brown eyes slowly roamed over your face. He took his time, his hand reaching out, knuckles grazing your cheek. It was so gentle and sweet that you pressed yourself against his hand. The warmth spreads to every part of your body.

The bed shifts as Nanami’s hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer. “You are still as stunning in the morning bare-faced as you are all dolled up.” Before you could even think of what to say in response, his lips were on yours.

His lips were warm, like a spring day. You moaned happily, kissing him back as his hands slowly ran down your arms. Breaking the kiss, had you pouting with a displeased groan that shifted into a moan. Those warm lips slowly moved down your face. Nanami was trailing the softest, warmest kisses down your body, over your shoulders and upper arm.

“I want to see all of you.” Hot breath whispered over your skin. “See every part of you, body, mind, and soul in the raw.”

Soft kisses were replaced with gentle nips. The sensation had you arching your back as Nana crawled on top of you. His morning wood was pressing against your hip. It felt like you were melting into the mattress as the once-comfortable room suddenly became too warm. The need to get naked grew stronger and stronger.

“Kento~”

He didn't respond. He was too busy being love-drunk off of you. His fingers, lips, and teeth slowly mapped out every part of your body. Nanami’s actions left you a squirming mess underneath him. One that he was so pleased to see and feel.

Only once you were gasping for air, gripping his shirt, begging him for more, did Nanami finally pull back, taking his shirt off. “Every inch of you is the most beautiful thing that's graced this world, Y/N.” You sat up, pulling him into a starved kiss as he took your shorts off. Limbs entangling as he gently laid you down.

And yes, you missed the morning train. . .and the afternoon train. . .poor Ijichi had to pick you up.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk y/n #jjk #jjk reader insert #jjk men #jjk drabbles #reader jjk #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #reader x gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso fluff #jujutsu ryomen #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader smut #jjk gojo smut #sukuna au #ryomen sukuna #reader x nanami #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x reader

[ellecdc]

Baaaaabe 😫

Ive been sick for the last couple days, and as always, that first day was horrible. Ive had my brain legit decide it wants to inflate bigger than my skull capacity (long story short, pregnancy 🫡) and i got to re-experience that feeling for the first 12 hours 💀

BUT i came back and i was sooo excited for your updates!! They were soo good (please tell me theres a part 2 to that angst....pls 🥺) And i love our discussions in the comments 🫶

I do have another request though if you have the time love. Another possessive!wolfstar buuuttt..... make reader Jamie's sister (twins?)!! Its troublesome enough for James to keep Sirius' hands to himself, but full moon Rem?? He's a brick wall. Like somethings happening between the 2 and Jamie is chasing reader, then she spots Rem and hides behind him. James tries to reach for her and Rem is just kinda like "???? Excuse me, thats mine. Dont touch. James Fleamont Potter. DONT. TOUCH." without even knowing whats going on. James is incredulous (because thats HIS sister) and Siri is chuckling but it looks like Rem might actually bite Jamie's hand off so he moves between them to seperate them but Rem is also like "ExCuSe YOU??? Also mine. *to siri* dont touch him. *to James* dont touch them or you might not have all your fingers when you wake up!!"

And just the repercussions of this where James isnt allowed alone with either until a couple days passed the 🌕

Hope youre looking after yourself darling 🩵

I love James' sister trope - something about it screams fluff and perhaps a little angst but just in all the best ways. I would imagine his sister to be so much like him: mischievous, funny, and full of love. Thanks for requesting!!!

poly!wolfstar x potter sister!reader

There were quite a few perks that came along with being James Potter's twin sister. One said perk was having a built-in best friend from the moment you came into the world. Another was that whilst you were attending school, you had the benefit of no one being willing to mess with you on account of the company you kept - namely, your brother and his infamous friends who called themselves The Marauders.

What being James Potter's twin sister couldn't protect you from? James Potter.

What could protect you from being James Potter's twin sister? Being the girlfriend of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

You and James were leaving Care of Magical Creatures together, heading to meet up with Remus and Sirius near the Greenhouses when one Lily Evans walked by - graciously bestowing James the time of day for quite possibly the first time ever - when you decided that this was the perfect pranking opportunity.

You really couldn't be blamed for what happened next: it truly was a gift bestowed upon you by the great pranking gods, and who were you to deny it?

"Hello, Potter." Lily said, causing James to gasp dramatically.

"Hello, Lily! Beautiful day out today, innit?"

Lily couldn't help but snicker at the sickeningly wide grin that took over James' face.

"Oi, Jamie. I forgot to tell you: mum sent that rash cream you were asking for. She said to remind you it's only safe to put around your anus, not in it." You proclaimed loudly, pretending to read from a 'letter' your mother had sent.

The courtyard became incredibly quiet before what you recognized to be Barty Crouch Junior's laugh echoed the space, triggering the snickering of all those present.

"You are so dead!" James sneered and you didn't hesitate to take off in a sprint - knowing your brother was a mere few paces behind you.

"You slithering little snake! She finally starts coming around - are you kidding me!?" He shouted as you swerved between bodies standing in your way whilst he just barrelled right through them.

Suddenly, you saw salvation in the form of one Remus John Lupin.

Now, granted, Remus didn't always protect you from your squabbles with James. Part of the reason for that was because half of the time you sort of deserved it (much like today), and the other part was that he claimed he didn't know what proper protocol was in sibling relationships on account of him being an only child. Sirius, a brother himself, had no such qualms and always took your side.

However, you knew that the full moon was in a mere two more sleeps, meaning Remus was at his most protective (read: possessive) which did not distinguish James Potter as friend, sibling, nor pack.

Right now: James Potter was only a threat.

And, let's be honest, being James Potter's twin sister, and a girlfriend to Remus Lupin and Sirius black also meant you were mischievous as hell. So you had no trouble using this to your utmost advantage.

You squeaked in terror as you slid behind Remus' lanky frame a moment before James - the bastard - slammed into his form and all but bounced off of Remus. James was admittedly more muscular that Remus, but Remus' height and werewolf strength left him towering above James as the dumb sod picked himself up off the ground.

"What in the buggering hell is going on?" He spat at James as one of his arms wrapped behind him, shielding you from your fuming brother.

"That sneaky little witch just embarrassed me in front of Lily!" James barked, looking like he was still trying to figure out how to get around Remus in order to strangle you.

"Please," Sirius drawled as he walked over casually, "like you need any help in that department Prongs."

You tried to hide your snicker, but from Remus' glance at you through the corner of his eye, you knew he caught it.

"She told the entire courtyard I needed cream for a rash on my anus!"

Sirius doubled over in laughter and you preened when you noticed Remus let out a soft chuckle himself.

"It's not sodding funny you wanker! Lily spoke to me first today! I'm going to kill you!" James snarled, moving his attention from Sirius to you.

As James stepped forward menacingly, Remus grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Prongs, enough." He barked.

Sirius was still laughing when he moved to stand between Remus and James, releasing James' shirt from Remus' fist.

"Okay, down boy." Sirius snarked, patting James' shoulder consolingly.

"Oh, sod off." James muttered, elbowing Sirius as he moved to step away.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and tried to even out your breathing; lungs still burning from your run.

"You okay, dove?" Remus asked you so gently as he bent down to make eye contact with you. His face screamed love, attentiveness, and care, making you feel slightly guilty for having shoved him in the middle of your tom foolery.

"I'm fine, Moons. Sorry for causing trouble." You answered solemnly.

His face picked up slightly at your words as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't causing trouble, love."

Your tender moment was interrupted by a yelp, causing the two of you to turn only to notice James and Sirius wrestling. James seemed to have gotten Sirius into a headlock, and the sod wasn't willing to tap out - still kicking and clawing at James in anyway he could.

"Oi!" Remus shouted as he plucked Sirius out of James' grasp and shoved him in the direction of the castle. James used his momentary distraction as an opportunity to set his sights back on you as he lunged, tackling you to the ground.

"Fuckin' hell Jamie! You weight a tonne!" You shouted, kneeing him in the gut. James doubled over and rolled onto his side in the fetal position.

You didn't even get a chance to right yourself before you were thrown over Remus' shoulder who was still shouting at Sirius to "get back to the dorm. The both of you are staying within my sights for the next foreseeable future" as you all left James with the wind knocked out of him, keeled over on the castle grounds.

#poly!wolfstar #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x you #wolfstar #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x you #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #reader insert #self insert #marauders fanfiction #marauders au #ask elle #sirius black x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x sirius #potter reader #potter!reader #ellecdc fics

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hi there, hope you're doing well. I would love to request a fic where the reader is Sirius' wife who reunites with him after he escapes from Azkaban, takes care of him e.g. feeding him and grooming him, and helping him get better. Cheers!

Right Where You Left Me

Request: I would love to request a fic where the reader is Sirius' wife who reunites with him after he escapes from Azkaban, takes care of him e.g. feeding him and grooming him, and helping him get better.

Hi! I’m so sorry for the wait, it took me forever to get to this request, and even longer to finish it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump, but I feel better. I love this request, thank you so much for sending it in! I hope you enjoy it :)

(Warnings: swearing, mentions of azkaban and sirius’s treatment there, mentions of death, vague mention of nudity, let me know if i missed anything)

—

When you received the Patronus from Remus telling you Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, it brought you to your knees. 

You thought about him every day. But you could only ever picture him in the days before he was arrested. It hurt too much to think about him rotting away in prison. But hearing that he got out? That he was out in the world and could be anywhere by now? The fact that he was suddenly much closer to you than you thought he would ever be again?

It terrified you.

You married Sirius right after school ended and the war was beginning to pick up. He proposed on a whim, telling you that the rest of your days weren’t guaranteed, and he didn’t want to live through another day without you tied to him. You would have always been by his side, but this was tying more than just your lives together—it was your souls. When Harry was born, you were named his godparents. All was well for a while. Calm, even. Of course, the calm didn’t last. 

It wasn’t long after your marriage before that night in Godric’s Hollow came, and Sirius was taken away from you. 

But it wasn’t just Sirius. 

It was James, Lily, and Peter—even Mary. Marlene was in the weeks before, and Dorcas too. They were ripped away from you, far before you were ready to let them go. Remus was the only one who you kept in touch with after that night. You clung to each other in the weeks after, seeming to be the only people in the world the other could find solace in. But as the years passed, your visits and letters became few and far in between. 

Then—after all that time—another Patronus came. 

Sirius had come to Hogwarts, and he’d proved his innocence to those who mattered. It was Peter who had betrayed everyone, and he was still alive. 

And, while Sirius had you and Remus on his side, he was still considered a fugitive. The Aurors were after him, and he needed to be kept some place safe where they wouldn’t come looking. Luckily for you, the flat you bought was outside of Wizarding London. Sirius had always loved the feeling of places untouched by magic, so after you married, you moved in together in a quiet area on the outskirts of London. It was his idea to use magic to ward it so that people looking for you would have a hard time, and after so long away from the Wizarding community, not many people would think it was worth it or even remember to come looking for Sirius in hiding with you.

After twelve years of solitude, you couldn’t fathom the idea of your husband coming back to you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of him being part of your day to day life again. All you could do to keep yourself together was tidy up and prepare for Sirius’s arrival.

You couldn’t believe it when Remus finally brought him home to you. 

Your boy—who was a man now, or at least the shell of one—was sitting right in your living room. The only home he had ever known outside of Grimmauld Place or Hogwarts, and he couldn’t have looked more out of place. 

Neither of you spoke when Remus eased him down onto the couch, before coming to your side. You’d always pictured that by some miracle if Sirius ever came home to you, you’d rush into his arms and he’d hold you like no time had passed. You spent years missing his touch, wishing you could hug him just one more time. But now he was right in front of you, and you had no idea how to act. You didn’t know if he even wanted you to touch him. You couldn’t take your eyes off Sirius, eyes wide as you looked him over. 

Time had not been kind to him. 

You could see the man you once knew bleeding through, but so much of this version of him was unknown to you. Sirius kept his eyes on the floor, but would occasionally glance up at you. You knew he was seeing a stranger, too.

“I have to go back,” Remus whispered, turning your attention to him. “They’ll know what’s happened back at Hogwarts if I don’t leave soon, and too many people know what’s happened already. I’m sorry. I’ll come back as soon as I can, yeah?”

You could hardly hear him, but you quickly nodded, giving him a squeeze. “Be careful, Remus. I’ll take care of him while you’re gone.”

“I know you will,” he murmured, squeezing you tight.

He let you go, kneeling down next to Sirius who was watching you both with a look full of anxiety. Remus placed a hand on Sirius’s shoulder, his touch light and gentle.

“I have to go, alright? But you’re safe here. I promise. It’s just Y/N.”

Just Y/N, Sirius thought. He just nodded, a conflicted look on his face. Remus stood up, giving you one last look of sympathy, before walking out the door. He left a deafening silence in his wake.

It took you forever to get your feet to move. But when you did, you were falling. You landed on your knees just in front of Sirius, peering up at him through teary eyes. You could see him take a breath, stilling as you got closer.

“Can I touch you?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Sirius swallowed hard. He gave you an almost imperceptible nod, and you gently reached your hand up, your fingertips hovering over his face. Taking a breath, you cradled his cheek in your palm. You could feel the stubble along his jaw, and the sharpness off his cheek. His skin was cool, far from the usual flush you remembered from all those years ago.

“You’re really here,” you murmured, your voice catching in your throat. “Oh, love. You’re so beautiful.”

Your words pulled a pained whimper from Sirius’s chest. He nestled his face into your hand, a few stray tears pooling in your palm. You were quick to wipe them away, leaning in close. He tilted his head down, resting his forehead against yours. He took a deep breath, taking you in.

“I pictured your face every day, and I still think I’ll never get tired of looking at you. How could I? You’re right here in front of me, as beautiful as the day I lost you. But you’ve always been the pretty one in this relationship, haven’t you?”

You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head. “In my dreams. But it’s good to see your sense of humor is still intact.”

The next few moments were quiet, nothing but the sound of sniffles and shaky breaths reaching your ears. 

Finally, Sirius forced himself to look around. He’d braced himself from the moment he walked in to see all that had changed since he left. He’d expected you to move on and live your life without him, and he’d expected the flat to reflect that. It was honestly more of a shock to him when Remus told him you still lived there than anything else. But as he looked around and took everything in, he realized how wrong he had been. 

“You haven’t changed a thing,” he said, looking at the art on the walls you’d picked out together when you first moved in.

You glanced around as well. You wanted to tell him how you didn’t have the heart to change anything. And although seeing him in everything around you felt like you were being stabbed, you just couldn’t get rid of anything. Getting rid of it would mean getting rid of all you had left of him.

And you would have rather been stabbed a thousand times than do that.

You shook your head, pointing to the spare room. “Actually, Remus lived here for a while. He pretty much flipped that whole room. Said something about you having too expensive a taste for him to have to endure for extended periods of time.”

“Merlin, I bet it looks like grunge threw up in there,” he mused, making you smile and nod.

You stood up, offering him your hands. “Are you hungry? We need to get you fed and cleaned up, love.”

Sirius looked down to the robes he was wearing. They were tattered—resembling rags stitched together more than they were resembling clothes. His hair was greasy and matted to his head, and his face and body was caked in dirt. He had almost forgotten just how dirty he was, a flush spreading across his cheeks as he gave you an embarrassed look. 

“It’s alright, darling,” you said softly, taking his hands in yours. “We’ll take it at your pace. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Reluctantly, Sirius nodded. You smiled, gently leading him up off the sofa and into the kitchen.

—

It took ages to find him something to eat. 

You nearly keeled over when he told you that pretty much the only thing he had been given to eat for the past twelve years was bread and water. It was what he’d grown accustomed to eating, and he wasn’t sure he could stomach anything else. You had to choke back tears when you finally suggested soup—one of the first things he learned to make on his own without magic. It took a while, but he managed to get most of it down. 

You made small talk while he ate, telling him little things he’d missed while he was gone. You left out the most painful details. You could tell him about those later.

Finally, he couldn’t stall anymore. 

He let you take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom, his eyes on the floor as you shut the door behind him.

“Shower or bath?” You asked, turning the water on to let it heat up. “A bath might be easier. You look tired, and I don’t want you falling over or something.”

Sirius just nodded, and you assumed he was alright with you choosing for him. You let the tub fill up, making sure the water wasn’t too hot before you turned the faucet off. You turned back around, frowning when you saw Sirius looking back at you with anxious eyes.

“It’s ready,” you said softly, stepping out of the way.

Sirius watched you for a moment, fidgeting back and forth on his heels. Just as you opened your mouth to speak again, he beat you to it.

“Can you turn around?” He asked, lowering his eyes to the floor. “I don’t mind if you stay, but could you…could you maybe turn around for this part?”

You quickly nodded, stepping towards the door. “Of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted me in here—”

He was quick to speak, his voice shaky. “I do! But this is just a little weird, you know?”

You nodded, backing up to the doorway and turning to face it. You could feel the heat creep up to your cheeks as you heard his clothes hit the floor, followed by the sound of him climbing into the tub. You had seen Sirius naked a thousand times before. He was never ashamed of his body, he never shied away, and you had seen plenty of him in your years of knowing him. This version of him made your chest tighten, and all you could do was stand there and hope he wasn’t feeling the emotions you were. You waited another moment before talking over your shoulder.

“Do you need anything, love? I’ll wait outside if you want me to. Unless you want me here. I’m happy to do whatever you want, it’s up to you.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “Uh…could you maybe help me? My hair is matted and I don’t think I can fix it on my own.”

There was probably a spell you could have used—some sort of detangling charm to help get the mats out. But Sirius had gotten used to not being able to use magic, and you didn’t feel like using it either. The truth was, you preferred it this way.

It was an excuse to get close to him again and spend time with him.

It was an excuse to take care of him.

You nodded, turning around to grab your brush. You kept your eyes on his as you sat down on the edge of the tub, trying your best not to let your eyes wander. You set your brush on your knees, reaching for a cup off the ledge of the tub to dip down into the water and fill up.

“Tilt your head back for me, love,” you directed, smoothing your hand over his hairline as he tipped back far enough for you to pour the water over his hair.

You repeated the process a few more times before setting the cup down and grabbing the conditioner. You smoothed it through his hair, gently tugging at the knots with your fingers before you grabbed your brush. It was silent while you worked, making slow but steady progress. Eventually, Sirius shifted, and the water sloshed just over the side of the tub.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking over his shoulder with guilty eyes to see if he splashed you.

“Don’t be,” you replied quickly, smoothing a comforting hand across his shoulder before moving back up to his hair. “Are you alright? Getting cold?”

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, before deciding against it and closing it. He just shook his head, growing silent once more. You knew there was something he wasn’t saying, and you didn’t want to push him. But you hadn’t made much progress with his hair, and you didn’t fancy sitting in silence for the rest of the evening.

You set your brush down, gently smoothing your palm over his hair. “Sirius…you can tell me anything. You know that, right? I know this feels strange, but it’s still me you’re talking to. Alright? It’s me. There’s nothing you can’t tell me. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen.”

There was another splash as he shifted, twisting around to face you. He was going to say that he’d tell you another time, and that he didn’t have it in him to say it just yet. 

But then he looked into your eyes.

And you were looking at him with such sincerity and warmth that he couldn’t help but spill. You watched his eyes fill with tears, and you quickly reached for his hand which he gladly let you take.

“I saw Harry,” he finally choked out.

You felt your breath catch in your chest. A deep sorrow spread through you, filling your gut with dread. You could feel your own tears stinging behind your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. It wasn’t the time for them.

“He looks just like them, doesn’t he?” You breathed, squeezing Sirius’s hand. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Remus promised he’d say hello for me once he got to Hogwarts.”

“He knows who you are?” Sirius asked, his voice full of surprise.

“Dumbledore wouldn’t tell me where he was when they came for him. The bastard said I was “in no shape” to look after him, and it was too dangerous for me to get involved. I tried so many times to get him to tell me, but I knew he had already pushed me and Remus to the back of the list as far as who could be around Harry…I didn’t even catch a glimpse of him until he was eight. Merlin, you have no idea how angry I was when I found out they had given him to Petunia and her sorry excuse for a husband.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. You could see the anger brewing inside him, watching as he took deep breaths to calm himself. But he didn’t let it out on you. He just squeezed your hand, tightening his grip.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Did you try and go get him?”

“Dumbledore threatened to have my magic taken away if I didn’t leave the matter be. He didn’t tell me anything about Harry or where he was kept hidden away. He just brought me a picture of him, and promised that when it was finally time for Harry to go to Hogwarts, he’d let me see him. Remus had to keep an eye on me till he was sure I wouldn’t do something stupid before that time came. He’d been waiting as long as me—he’s just better than me at patience, I guess.”

“You never were very good at being patient,” Sirius mused, but you could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke.

You gave him a tight lipped smile, trying your best to mean it. “Anyway, I met Harry for the first time in Diagon Alley. Dumbledore finally let me see him under the condition that it be in a public and magical place—but I wasn’t allowed to tell him about you.”

Sirius frowned, and you could feel your chest tighten. You ran your thumb along the back of his hand, your eyes in your lap.

“I wanted to tell him—so badly. But Dumblefore wouldn’t let me. All I could say was that I was a friend of Harry’s parents, and that I was there to help him get ready for school. I finally told him I was his godmother last summer when I took him for school supplies again. He spent the afternoon asking me about how I knew his parents. He kept pressing for every detail about them and how I knew them, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I told him everything about James and Lily I could remember. It just about killed me—”

Your words caught in your throat, cutting you short. Sirius reached his other hand up to reach for yours, his brows furrowing in concern. You looked up, giving him a sad smile.

You swallowed, choking back tears. “He’s so like them, Sirius. He’s got James’s ridiculous hair, and Lily’s fire. I can hardly look at him without seeing her eyes staring back at me. It’s so fucking unfair.”

A pained sound was pulled from Sirius’s throat, and you stopped yourself from talking about James and Lily any further. You grabbed the brush again, burying your nose in your work as you tried to ignore the sorrow you caught in his eyes before he turned his head straight.

“Tell me about it,” you prompted, changing the subject. “Tell me about him.”

Sirius was quiet a moment, like he was trying to find the right words. “He was…beautiful.”

You smiled, nodding for him to continue as you worked the knots out of his hair.

“He’s got this little witch by his side who quite honestly scared me—”

“Hermione,” you finished for him, grinning. “She’s a wonder, isn’t she? Ron, too.”

Sirius nodded, wringing his hands. “I’m glad Harry has someone. They seem like good friends. He’ll at least have them by his side to keep him from getting into too much trouble. He’ll certainly have a better shot than we did.”

You chuckled, smoothing your hand over his hair. “Remus told me he’s doing really well. It was a big year for him, but…he’ll be alright. We’ll see to that now.”

Sirius stiffened, turning around to face you. You paused what you were doing, setting down the brush. His eyes were lowered, his voice quiet as he spoke.

“I told him he could come stay with me, at least once it was safe to and he was able. I wasn’t really thinking about where that would be. My first thought was Grimmauld Place, but I don’t think I can stomach having him there. It’s not right. But I didn’t think to ask you—”

“Sirius, love,” you interrupted, gently cupping his cheek. “This is your home. You can invite whoever you want—you don’t have to ask my permission. And Harry will always be welcome here. If it’s what he wants, he can come stay with us. It can be his home too.”

His eyes softened, and his shoulders fell as he let out a breath of relief. “Merlin, I missed you.”

You could feel yourself growing emotional again, but you refused to let it show. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak without your eyes welling with tears. You just cleared your throat as you leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder.

“Tilt your head back for me again, darling,” you managed to whisper, rinsing his hair out. “Almost done. We’ll get you cleaned up so you can rest, alright?”

—

Not long after, you had Sirius clean and out of the tub, bundled up under the pile of blankets you had dragged over to your bed. He looked a bit ridiculous buried under them all, but it made you smile seeing him comfortable, and he was very happy to oblige you. 

You laid next to him, under a considerably less amount of layers. “Warm enough?”

A warm laugh came from next to you as Sirius rolled over to face you. “Yeah, I think I’m all set, darling.”

You smiled, and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Out of habit—one you didn’t even know you still had—you reached for his hand under the sheets. You used to always wind down every night like this, cherishing the time you had together. You never knew how much longer you’d be able to do it with the war raging on, and you both got quite used to doing this each night. 

Sirius stiffened in surprise when he felt your fingers reach his, but he quickly recovered once he realized what you were doing. He let you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers.

“This bed is so soft,” he murmured, tilting his chin down to look at you. “I forgot how soft it was.”

You tried not to let your mind wander, thinking about the sleeping conditions he would have had in Azkaban. He would tell you one day about what it was like there. 

Neither of you were prepared to talk about it just yet.

“Do you wanna sleep somewhere else? I could make up the couch—”

“No, love,” he said, squeezing your hand. “This is good.”

You nodded, resting your head against the pillow. Another silence fell over the room. You shuffled to get a little closer, absentmindedly tracing your thumb along the back of his hand. Sirius let out a heavy sigh, drawing your attention up to him. You waited for him to speak, lying still until he looked down and his eyes met yours. There was a pain in them you couldn’t describe.

“Did you think I did it?”

You sucked in a breath, your grip on his hand tightening. You could feel his eyes on you as you frowned, bring your joined hands up from under the sheets to rest on top of the blanket.

You had been waiting for him to ask you this.

You knew he must have spent the past decade wondering what you thought happened. He’d sat in that cell all alone, thinking his wife thought he was a cold blooded murderer who had killed her best friends. 

The world thought he was a killer. Why wouldn’t you?

You dropped his hand, gently reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin was warm against yours, a pink flush spreading. Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? You didn’t know. You caressed his cheek, giving him a sad smile. You could see his eyes welling with tears.

“No,” you finally said, your voice sure. “I didn’t think it was you. I didn’t know what had happened, but I didn’t think it was you.”

Sirius let out a breath, his voice cracking. “Really?”

You swallowed hard, nodding.

“You would have died before ever hurting James—and you would have done a lot worse to save him. There wasn’t a single part of me that thought you could have killed James and Lily. I just couldn’t fathom it. There was no one in this world you loved more than them, and I knew that it couldn’t have been you. I didn’t know they had made Peter the secret keeper last minute, and I didn’t know where his body was if he was supposed to be dead, but I knew you had absolutely nothing to do with it. I think Remus knew it too…deep down. He thought I was crazy with the theories I was coming up with to try and absolve you. But he never truly blamed you—and eventually, we stopped talking about it all together. It hurt too much to keep trying to solve the mystery. It was easier to let it go.”

Fresh tears spilled, and Sirius was quick to wipe them away. Your heart ached at his kindness, even after all these years. All these years of solitude when you had left him behind, and yet, he was the one consoling you.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, composing yourself the best you could. “I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder to get you back. I’m so sorry you had to suffer there all those years while I got to just keep living my life. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please forgive me, Sirius.”

Sirius quickly shook his head, his palm resting against your cheek. “None of that, pretty girl. It’s not your fault—”

“But it is,” you tried to say, but he just kept shaking his head.

“Well, I don’t care—it doesn’t matter…I don’t blame you. I never blamed you, darling. So stop blaming yourself. I’m sure you’ve spent long enough doing that, and I won’t watch you torture yourself. Don’t you think we’ve both been through enough torture?”

You could hardly believe what you were hearing. He was so strong. It shocked you, just how strong he was. He had been through so much, and yet he still carried himself like the man you knew. He still let other people lean on him even when it should have been him doing the leaning. It was remarkable, really.

“Since when did you get so wise?” You asked, and you had mustered a grin that made him smile too. “Where’s the stubborn man I once knew?”

Sirius shrugged. “He’s still in here somewhere. Just needs a little practice. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll meet him again soon.”

You scoffed, breathing out a laugh. “That’s alright. I kinda missed him.”

Sirius chuckled, and your smile widened. This felt easy—this was good. You were so worried that, after all this time, you wouldn’t know how to act around each other. You were so afraid that Sirius would walk around the flat like a ghost of the man who once called it home. But he didn’t. It only took him a few hours to start cracking jokes, brushing his fingers against yours. 

It wasn’t perfect—neither of you expected it to be. 

But it gave you hope. Sirius was going to be okay. You both were going to be okay. And you’d get there together.

—

A/N - Hi! Again, I'm so sorry for the wait. I honestly don’t love the outcome of this, but I figured I’d finish it anyways. I loved this request, and I just kept coming back to it and adding it. Hopefully this is what you were looking for, sorry if it’s shit. Thanks for the request :)

#sirius black #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader #the marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #right where you left me #taylor swift #folklore

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Missing My Werewolf Husband

A/N: David Thewlis has taken over my mind lol. Enjoy - L

Summary: After two weeks of Remus leaving to teach Hogwarts. He finally comes back.

WARNING: Being married, smut, breeding, NSFW, SFW, angst

Word Count: 2.7K

═ ≪ ❈ ≫ ═

Remus was happy when he got an offer to teach in Hogwarts. The money would help a lot, that’s what he told you as you helped him pack. He notices your quiet demeanor as you fold his dress robes neatly to avoid any wrinkles. You had even patch a few holes on them in the morning.

He calls out your name as he sits on the edge of bed. His heart breaks into two when he notices how red your eyes are. You were trying your hardest not to cry. You were happy for him, yes. The money would be nice, yes but you didn’t care about that. As long as you had him with you everything worked out.

Both of you had settled in his little cottage after graduating Hogwarts and after the war. The cottage was small but it was everything to both of you, making it into your home and using magic for a few repairs. It was paradise and it was a place where Remus could transform every full moon.

“I’m sorry.” You cried softly and he goes close to you in the middle of the bed wrapping an arm around you so you can lean against him.

“Don’t cry, love.” He tells you as he kisses your forehead and hugs you. You hug him back, laying your head on his chest.

“We can send letters. I’ll see you every two weeks when I'm settled down in school and you can use the floo too. Dumbledore was kind enough to add it to my chambers, he said he will connect it with the one in the living room.”

Remus cups your face with his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. You look up at your husband, his blue eyes are filled with his own tears. You pushed his sandy brown hair away from his face so you could kiss him.

Remus was the first to pull away and leans his forehead against yours, his hands going down to touch your arms. “You’re scaring me. You’re not going to leave me if I go, right?” He asks. You shake your head before answering him.

“No, I’m not. I'm not going to leave you not after all the work and time I spent trying to convince you that I love you.”

Remus lets out a chuckle as he kisses you again. You were right, you were in love with him since you were children in school. He knew he was in love with you the moment he saw you on the train to Hogwarts. As he grew he believed that he didn’t deserve to be loved. He didn’t deserve to have friends because of what he is. He didn’t deserve to have someone so beautiful and kind hearted like you but you managed to change his stubborn mind.

“Sometimes I think it’s a dream being married to you. I'm scared of waking up one day and finding out you're not mine. I don't deserve someone like you.” He confesses as he thinks about how you manage his moods when a full moon is near. Helping him clean and dressing his wounds for him after a full moon.

He thinks about the late night you wait outside for him. His chest fills with warmth as he remembers how you learned to make homemade chocolate for him.

When the day comes for him to go to Hogwarts, both of you couldn’t stop from crying. Remus didn’t sleep the night before. He watched as you slept after an eventful night. He traces the love bites marked on your skin, your eyes are shut but your lips are a bit open. He uses his thumb to pull your bottom lip before touching your face again.

Giving you a last kiss before boarding the train he looks out the window to wave at you. He finds an empty cart and places his luggage and suitcase above the seat. He watches out the window as he sits down, with his head against the window. He sniffs before wiping his tears with the back of his hand. There were so many memories about this train, his friends, his life in Hogwarts when he was younger. He can hear Lily and you talking about Charms while Sirius and James planned their next prank. He smiles at the thought of you cuddling with him on the train after graduating from Hogwarts. He feels his eyes grow heavy and he enters into a dreamless sleep.

It was two weeks later and Remus was filled with anxiety. He had sent you a letter on his first day of Hogwarts, telling you all about his position and about the students he is teaching. He wrote to you the next day that he couldn’t sleep the first day there because you weren’t there next to him. You weren’t there to cuddle him and scratch his back. You weren't there to run your fingers through his hair to help him fall asleep.

He found himself daydreaming about you during his breaks and meal times. To make matters worse, Moony missed you too. He can feel it, the wolf needed to be with his mate. Two weeks felt so long, he hasn’t touched you, he hasn’t smelled you. He hasn’t tasted you.

He graciously thanked Dumbledore and the elves for properly connecting the fireplace in his chambers to the fireplace to his little cottage. He quickly used it when they left.

Remus calls your name when he walks into the living room of the cottage. It’s quiet and he calls your name again. Looking in the kitchen and finding nothing he decided to go check the bedroom. The door is open and he can hear you humming. Calling your name again, he looks inside to see you on the bed.

He smiles wide when he notices you. You’re wearing one of his dark gray cardigans. It’s big on you, all of his cardigans are oversized. He saw your bare legs and saw the cardigan was half zip up, showing your cleavage.

You’re holding a book in your lap and he notices the Walkman near you. You’re wearing headphones and now he knows why you couldn’t hear him. He’s surprised you still haven’t seen him, especially when he walks into the room. He slowly starts to make his way up the bed and crawl to you. Feeling the bed dip, you looked ahead and you let out a yelp. Ripping the headphones off your head and pushing the book to the other side of the bed, you throw yourself onto Remus making him laugh as he lays flat on his back on the bed. You had crawled on him, sitting on his lap and kissing him.

Remus moans as he opens his mouth to deepen the kisses. He cups your face, tugging you closer to him as he turns his head to the side to slip his tongue in your mouth.

He looks up at you when you pull away. “Hi.” He says making you smile.

“Hello, Professor Lupin.” You said in a teasing tone as you looked down at him. He smiles at you before puckering his lips at you so you can give him another kiss. His hands find their way onto your legs and rub them up to your hips. He hears you squeal when he pulls the thong before releasing it, making it snap back against your skin. He grows hard at the thought of you home wearing only his cardigans and a thong on.

“Remus.” You whisper to him as you grind yourself against his crotch.

His eyes harden when you sit up straight, staring intensely at him as you bring a hand to the zipper of the cardigan. Pulling it completely down, Remus helps you, pushing the cardigan off of your shoulders showing him your bare chest. You hear him whine before pulling you toward him. He latches on one of your nipples as he uses his hand to pull the other one.

You moaned as he licked and sucked your nipple. Your moans turns into a giggle when his mustache tickles your nipple as he makes out with your breasts.

You can hear Moony growl as he licks the valley between your breasts all the way up to your neck. Remus pulls away to kiss your mark. Nuzzling in your neck, he quickly turns around making you laid down on your back. He spreads your legs wide open for his frame.

Remus doesn’t wait, he’s always been impatient when it comes to touching you. He feels you pulling his tie as he kisses your neck, his eyes roll in the back of his head when he feels you cup him though his trousers.

“Take this off, baby.” You tell him and he obeys you in a hurry. Removing his tie, throwing it over his shoulders with his shirt and sweater. Your eyes watched the scars on his rib cage expand as he took a deep breath. Remus’ body was a work of art to you. His fair skin was a canvas, some of his scars were pink, some were red and others were darker color. You love all of it, you kissed every one of him, even the ones on his back and legs.

You have kissed the ones of his handsome face. You watched as Remus kicked his shoes off and took his trouser off. You bite your bottom lip as your eyes wander down to his light brown happy trail, it disappears under his pitch tent boxer.

Wanting to taste him so bad, you felt his hands grab a hold of your ankle tugging you to the edge of the bed. You call out his name, laughing as you see him with a grin. He knelt down between your legs, his nose bumps with your cunt. He kisses it over the small fabric of the thong.

“Remus!” You moan when you feel his tongue licking your slit, he nips the fabric and uses one of his hands to pull it to the side. He latches on to your clit as he slowly slid two fingers in you.

Throwing your head back when you felt Remus hitting that sweet spot in you. You can’t help yourself and grab a hold of his hair, pulling him closer to your cunt. He moans at your action and eats your cunt messy. You don’t say anything when Remus rips the thong off your body. Another pair down the drain, you joke to yourself but you should have known better. Remus doesn’t like it when your sweet pretty cunt is covered. You blush as you remember what he told you. “Prettiest fucking cunt. You smell so good. Don’t cover up.”

Remus watches you as he comes back up, leaning over you. He kissed you and you moaned at the taste of your cunt on his tongue. He pulls away and signals you to get in the middle of the bed with his head. You quickly do and whine when you feel him slap your ass. Remus is quick to remove his boxer and follows you into the bed. Your head hits the pillow as he gets on top of you. Remus tells you how much he missed you as he kisses your neck. His hands go under, behind your knee and push them up to your chest.

“Let me..” Remus knew what you were going to ask. He would have loved your mouth on him but not right now. Two weeks without you, he needed you now. He needed to be inside of you.

“I’m so hard for you, already.” He tells you and you follow his right hand. He's jerking himself off. His cock looks so pretty and pink, he’s uncut and you can see the precum dripping out of his slit.

“You haven't cum in these two weeks?” You ask him and Remus shakes his head, pouting at you as he continues to touch himself.

You reach out for his cock. Going under to cup his balls making him moan. “Balls are heavy with cum, baby.” You whispered.

“You're going to give it to me right? You're going to give me all that cum you store for two weeks?” You asked him and Remus’ face turns red from your words.

You had a habit of making him blush red from your dirty words. “Yes, please.” He whines as you gently give his sack a squeeze.

Removing your hand, Remus gets closer to you, your legs are draped over his thighs as his cock hovers over your wet cunt. You moan softly when you feel him playing your clit with the fat head of his cock. He gives it a few slaps against your clit and pussy lips.

“Remus.” You cry his name out feeling impatient. He gives you a smirk at your plea to hurry up.

He quickly leans down to capture your lips as he slides himself in until the hilt. You cry out in his mouth at sudden movement. Remus fucks you as he's on top of you. His arm is behind you, your head is laying on his forearm as he watches your pretty face. He holds the edge of the mattress with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he thrusts in and out of you.

“Baby.” Remus whines as he looks down to see his cock going in and out of your pussy. What a lovely sight, a sight he missed so much. Letting go of the mattress he goes to your left breast fondling it as he continues.

You can't help but cry as he fucks you. Remus looking at you, his pretty blue eyes staring down. You feel him so deep in you in this position, his heavy balls are slapping your behind while rutting into you wild. The growl he gives you doesn't scare you one bit, it makes you clench around. Remus pants your name, you feel him tremble as you grab a hold of his thighs to help you stay in place. Remus' harsh thrust makes the box spring of bed squeak loudly. Your toes curl up when you feel his thumb on your throbbing clit. Remus leans back to see you come undone on his cock as he keeps fucking you. His hand becomes drench when you cum.

“Oh fuck-fuck.” Remus whines as he releases your clit and quickly leans back over you, his arms go under you to hold you close to his chest. He hides his sweaty face in your neck. You hold on to him for dear life as he catches up to his own release. Remus shouts your name and he gives you one harsh thrust and holds himself deep inside of you.

Remus is breathing heavily, he whines to you when he feels you stroking his back with both hands. He can hear you calling his name out softly trying to catch his attention. He moans as he feels his legs start to ache from holding this position but he ignores it. He lifts his head up from your neck and looks down at you. Your cheeks are flushed and your hair is tousled. He hums when you bring your hand to brush his own hair out of his face not minding how damp it was from his sweat.

“I missed you.” Remus hears you whisper.

“Me too. Me too, Y/n.” He croaks out to you before giving you a kiss on the lips. After a few moments, he’s off of you. He keeps kissing you softly, enjoying your warmth and your presence. He wipes you clean, carefully to not hurt you. Remus tries to push back Moony but the wolf inside of him is satisfied with the sight of your wet puffy cunt, blobs of his cum dripping out and wetting the blanket under you. With a warm damp cloth he wipes you with it, he gives your mound a kiss when he finishes.

You listen as Remus tells you about being back to school as you lay with him on the bed. He has his right arm around you as you laid on his chest. You trace the scars on his chest as he spoke. You catch sight of his left hand when he touches his lower stomach. The golden wedding band shines in the light and it makes you smile, you were so happy he was back. Oh merlin, how you missed your werewolf husband.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin is hot #harry potter fanfiction #david thewlis #remus lupin being the best husband #remus lupin angst #remus lupin married life #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader smut #remus lupin x you

[faeryarchives]

loved by the moon (riddle, leona, and azul x f!reader)

requested by @lydiacallas: Can i ask for a Moon Goddess like!Fem!Reader? Like they have magic linked to the moon, they have like- this ethereal, pure and calm vibe of the moon itself and their voice is calm too. Maybe their hair is a bit glow in the dark? With Malleus, Azul, Lilia, Riddle and Leona, please and thank you very much! 🥺✨ warning: minor spoilers to book 6 + somewhat long imagine note: reader uses she / they pronouns + is in the same grade as the boys !! this is very overdue im sorry 😣 and i based some characteristic and abilities to moonlight cookie and princess luna guilty as charged 😔 + malleus and lilia part will be in another post! recent fics: happy birthday (malleus x reader) & when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace x reader) & its you, it always had been you

·˚ ༘ riddle rosehearts (2nd year ramshackle dorm leader)

"the decision of all professors and staffs of night raven college falls in favor for miss (name) (last name) to enroll here - exempting them from the all-boys rule. she will be in charge of the ramshackle dorm during her stay here."

riddle does not understand how on earth were you able to stay in the school and always hold yourself with such grace, he couldn't explain why your presence seems to be similar to vil like you were oozing of calm vibes

you were the total opposites - he is more accustomed to fire while you specialize in water magic*. he lose his rationality quickly while he had never see you even falter during the time you two were classmates + he always abides by the rules while you do what ever you want 

"you are not allowed to sleep in class!" "it's not sleeping, i am just resting my eyes..." "you must not pick flowers from the garden on wednesdays." "riddle, i am not under the queen of hearts rules."

and riddle actually holds a one sided grudge against you for that + makes it his mission always to remind you of the rules, going on about mini rants to which you nodded to while reading your books

typically, riddle would've mention something about the rule of the queen of hearts but he was strangely quiet. you see him looking down at his notebook, lost in his world. and that surprised you because never you would've thought you would know this side of him. "no rule trivia for today?" "...huh?" "there is something on your mind, no? why don't we talk about that instead our usual trivias."

as time passed by, you and riddle gradually close friends to the point that heartslabyul treats you like their saving grace whenever riddle goes on a rampage, even more when you became second years

when the first overblot happened, it was the first time he saw your face, usually so calm, crumbled like dust when the blot manifested into a large phantom

"hahaha! the law in this world is me! not even you, (name), can stop me!" "i'm not letting you go so easily, riddle. rules are meant to protect your people, but you don't realize you are using them to suffocate them. you even hurt my dorm mates, enough of this!"

riddle was sure you wouldn't speak to him again because you weren't there the moment he woke up. he tried asking trey and cater if you were avoiding him, but they could not answer him. the next few days, he didn't even get to talk to you.

then he found himself admiring nrc at night time, breaking his own rules, maybe it's okay to let is slide for now. as he needs some time to think

absentmindedly wandering around the school grounds, letting the cool breeze feel his skin, riddle had his hand brushing through the thick bushes until they got pricked by a stray thorn "ah-" he hissed, holding up his pricked finger. it was just a tiny injury that's nothing to worry about. the injury was nothing compared to what he saw next "riddle? what are you doing this here at this hour?"

riddle spotted you sitting under the tree where silver usually takes his naps, surrounded by bunnies as they piled around your lap.

after days of not seeing each other, riddle thought he was going crazy because the last time he saw you, he knew pretty sure that your eyes and hair do not have that silver glow - it was like you were the moon itself

"is it my fault that your eyes and hair changed?" "oh, this is awkward... " you look at the bunnies trying to hide behind you, being scared of riddle's sudden appearance, contemplating about something before sighing in defeat. "i think i owe you an explanation. but first, can you keep a secret?" this confused riddle very much. what do you mean explanation? did something happen while he was out? before he could even think of it, you were already in front of him - your point and middle finger placed on his forehead. 'the moon has come out to play, now bid your worries away.' a comfortable feeling of cold wrapped around riddle's body, feeling the fatigue from his overblotting disappear, the weight on his shoulder being gone and his pricked finger healed. while riddle stared at you in shock, you finally reveal your true appearance and float around him like a curious child. "would you believe me if i told you i am the descendant of the moon goddess?"

... oh. OH !!

prepare for him because this little goldfish right here is most likely a fan of reading books about your kind + cue the sparkling eyes

and oh my god are those butterflies he can feel in his stomach? or maybe he is just hungry but he only feel that way around you though. oh well !!

** okay so i think reader will be compatible with water magic because the moon has this gravitaional pull right which cause the high tides and low tides... and riddle is fire!

·˚ ༘ leona kingscholar (3rd year transfer student)

"kingscholar, think of this as your punishment for the spelldrive incident. i would gladly take miss (name) for a tour but alas, there are countless of papers that needs my attention."

leona knew that there is something like a cloak of mysteriousness around you the moment you appeared in the college mid-year as a transfer student from rsa

just you don't interfere with his plans and he will also stay out of yours but it turns out he was assigned by the crow to take you around

"... wow, do i look like a punishment worthy chore?" you sigh, shaking your head in disappointment before turning to leona and he could swear he could see your eyes glowing for a moment when you stare at him. "i take it that the dorm leader of savannaclaw will be my tour guide?" "just don't lag behind." giving you a shrug before he started walking ahead of you. despite his short descriptions and tour around the school, leona is thankful that you didn't seem to be a nosy type of person, just a little on the calm and reserve type than most people he knew.

doesn't understand how people seems to look starstruck whenever you walk by them i mean you are attractive yes but not being able to move? that's different

it also turns out you share most of your classes! maybe crowley was really punishing him for the incident as he was stuck with you, being your babysitter.

but you almost look like his babysitter + quickly became one of the most tolerable people in the school and he doesn't mind having you around

"leona? let me bother you for a moment, can you help me with this problem?" "oh that?" the lion lifted his head and stared at the paper you were holding before waving his hand in dismissal. "remember the activity we did as partners? that's the one." "..." you squinted your eyes and leona could see them literally glow in purple light causing him to blink several times if he was seeing it right but it disappeared quickly. "oh i get it now, thanks." "do your eyes really glow like that?" "huh? i don't know what you are talking about."

you were not the nagging type - letting him hide and snooze off behind you during class and surprisingly, you were fun to spar with during practical exams + too smart for your own good

he had never seen any kind of fighting similar to yours like your fighting style is only yours to begin with - not only you excel in defending, you never seem to get tired despite being a speedy defender.

you and the savanaclaw dorm leader spent the whole afternoon sparring with each other and by the time you notice it, the sun was already setting. "aren't you tired yet, leona?" "you better tell me how you manage to keep up with me all this time." you did say to keep up with you the first time we met." you twirl your spear around you before stabbing it on the ground, leaning on it and grinned at leona. "i'm just keeping my promise."

now leona was pretty sure you are not a normal transfer student + especially after fighting with you in the island of woe and it was pretty interesting how you unexpectedly exposed yourself in front him and jamil.

the moment you, who was assigned to be in the front of the group due to you having the most capable defensive powers, entered the room on the current sector, leona and jamil look at your back in surprise. "(name)-senpai?" "what's up, jamil?" "... is that a normal thing for you?" the room was oozing with the presence of phantoms everywhere and there was no source of light - aside from your hair locks that are now shining like a billowing night sky of twinkling stardust, borne in a void of black and fading in an indigo moonset "oh that's normal, we can just use it as source of light. save your magic for now." "no wonder your magic feels different from everyone else - you are a moon goddess, right?"

leona is not blind, he just need a solid evidence to confirm his gut feeling. unique magic spells + signature spear + glowing eyes and your hair locks literally looking like that?

while fighting along side each other, leona could literally leave his back open because heknew and trust that you always have his back and vice versa

"leona-senpai, watch out-" before jamil could jump in between the incoming attack and leona, you pulled the second year by his hood deflected the attack with your spear so effortlessly. "it's fine, moon fairy here got our backs." you hear leona said proudly before landing a critical hit on the phantom. "aren't you glad you're stuck with us?"

everyone in school knows how two of you would make an unbeatable duo when it comes to strategies and games

and not going to lie, leona thinks so too! you are strong, smart and everything above + treats you life his closest friend and respects you a lot but you do things sometimes that are not really necessary

"are you done yet?" he couldn't help but ask, his tail thumping on the floor with annoyance while you tried braiding some parts of his hair.

you peek over his should and smiled, trying to show him the small braid that you did on the side. "yeah, it's fun braiding your hair!" after your identity being revealed, you let yourself relax more around him - when you express happiness, your hair starts glowing as it did before and small crescent like moon thingy start appearing around you

... leona find that cute + now he understand why people become starstruck when it comes to you

**you know how moonlight cookie's hair color looks like? yeah that's the one!

·˚ ༘ azul ashengrotto (2nd year ramshackle vice dorm leader)

"did you hear about the rumors? recently, students are saying that when you go to the botanical garden at night and stand under the moonlight - all your questions will be answered!"

the fact that rumors like that exists made azul irritated because it means he got competition. and having competition in the thing he do best is not fun.

so he and the twins went to investigate - how and where the rumors first started and who are most likely to be involved in the case

surprisingly enough, it all leads to a certain ramshackle vice dorm leader aka you + azul already knew you due to being the same year and his 'rival'

he considers you as his rival because you two always seem to fight for the top 2 and 3 spot every exam but for you... i think he would be hurt if you say that you like to aim for the top spot because it's fun 🤩

it was during lunch time and you were planning to eat with yuu, grim and the others when all of a sudden, someone blocked your way out by leaning on the door. "(last name) can i ask a bit of your time? i would like to ask you regarding an important matter." the ever so charismatic azul asked, his usual charming smile on as if he wants to do business with you. "oh, hi azul. what is it about?" "how delightful! do you happen to know the rumor about your unanswered questions will be answered as you stand under the moonlight?" "there is a rumor like that? under the moonlight? why the specifics?" one thing that azul observed about you is that your emotion reflects on your eyes. call it his gut feel but just one look and he already knew you were telling the truth "a pity... it seems like i am back to square one." "... maybe i can go help you out? i am not that busy these upcoming days."

and so azul's little group grew in numbers consisting of him, you, yuu, grim and the twins. oddly enough, it was actually fun to hang out with you

azul never got to interact with you that much before and only knew information about your through papers and from what he heard from people but being with you right now exceeds his expectations

"if headmaster crowley is similar to crow... do you think he likes to hoard shiny things?" you suddenly whispered it to azul one day in class, your mind clearly wandering and not paying attention to what professor trein is writing on the board. "what is with the random thought?" what is we leave a trail of shiny things and create a trap, that would be really funny."

you were an oddball. sometimes you will joke around with him and trying to make him laugh during class. there are also times where he couldn't explain the calming feeling he had whenever you are around + he could never even feel any other intentions from your actions as if you genuinely want to become his friend

it took him a while to notice how you always seem to stand out and become the embodiment of grace and elegance - a confident yet modest person who knows what you want

you always help him out in solving the rumor mystery but there is something that made you look suspicious → you always go back to your dorm before sunset

it's not that he wants to take up all your time but the way you stand firm of not being able to join them during night time and saying how dangerous it is made him suspect you of something

so he went alone wearing his ceremonial robes (the twins are taking over his duties for a while i know very unbelievable but imagine) to investigate the botanical garden and there he saw you run inside - a trail of silver light following you behind

and when azul went inside to stand in the spot, trying to think of what to wish until he hears a familiar voice ringing in the building

"say your wish out loud and the moon will light its way to you." "well, now this is marvelous. can i see one guiding my wish for me?" azul looked up, trying to call out for you, even looking around to see signs of you. there was a moment of silence before he heard you sigh and in an instance, you appeared before him, avoiding his look. "i thought i told you to let it go?"

after finding out you were his competitor - he didn't really feel annoyed at all! rather he was intrigued on how you were able to do it ...? you help the students find the answers on their own in their dreams?!

seeing your hair glow in silver light in the dark reminds him of himself as some octopus also glow in the dark just like him!

"azul, do you know that i really admire you?" "me? what is there to admire about me? i do nknow i have a remarkable potential but compared to y-" "no, seriously. you don't need to compare yourself to me. having to do all these business related work AND studying at the same time? you should appreciate yourself more."

... do you want to make him cry on the spot? hearing such words makes him happy but hearing it from you aka one of the people he really admire and yes he admits he admire you as a rival - his emotions are going haywire.

even if he is smart, it will take time for azul to realize that his admiration is just growing stronger and stronger each day and bloom into something else

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twst imagines #riddle rosehearts #riddle roseheart x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #faeryarchives #a.twst #a.heartslabyul #a.savanaclaw #a.octavinelle #twst x reader

[godisshook]

New Year, New Me

Adam needed a change. Life for him had been dull, with each day feeling monotonous. He couldn’t stand it, entirely dissatisfied with school, he had all but given up on his studies by now. If his apathy towards school wasn’t already making things bad, his dating prospects made things miserable. Despite doing everything in his power to put himself out there, he simply never had any romantic success. As he celebrated the new year with his friends, the one thing making his life worthwhile, he silently wished for some way to change things, to make his life better. With the ball dropping and the new year starting, he returned home, not knowing that his wishes would be answered in the most unexpected way.

It was a quiet day on campus, with most people returning home for the new year. Adam didn’t particularly care about going back, and so stayed in his dorm with his roommate, Blake. Returning home from the store, Adam opened the door, and was met with a guy he had never seen before. Noticing Adam’s worry, the unknown guy spoke, “Hey Adam, it’s Blake!” Adam’s eyes widened. He had changed his entire look, going from a quiet, unassuming guy, to one of the strongest guys Adam knew of. Inquiring on this sudden change, Blake bluntly replied, “It’s this app called ResetR, It’s fucking crazy man!”

Curiosity would get the best of Adam, as he ventured to the App Store to find this seemingly magical program. Upon finding the page for ResetR, he quickly downloaded it, hoping this would be the change he so desperately needed. He zoomed through terms and conditions, not caring about the various warnings, ana made it to the main page, where he was met with a set of questions.

>Would you like to start? Yes. >Please answer each question on a scale of "Strongly Disagree" to "Strongly Agree." Ensure all answers are as honest as possible.

While going through the questions, Adam became more and more bored, as he failed to see the relevance of the app asking about his eating habits, and thus, before making it to the most vital questions, he closed the app, opened twitter, and simply scrolled the night away.

That would not be his last experience with ResetR, however, as soon more and more people in his life would change; some simply becoming taller, while others seemed to have a full makeover. Knowing the source of these changes, and with his dating life still abysmal, Adam decided to give it one more go. Luckily for him, the process was about to become much easier. He noticed the app had undergone a major update; allowing you to scroll through preset profiles, rather than simply filling out a form. Not only that, but he could change aspects of his current self, instead of simply becoming a new person.

Now, the starting screen presented two choices:

>I would like to change my current self >I would like to view profiles, and perform a reset

Adam wanted to venture into what this new update had to offer, and selected the second option. A few sliders were presented, such as muscle, and level of success, and after setting each bar to his liking, Adam hit confirm, and was presented with a slew of new bodies he could inhabit. He swiped through profile after profile, with none of them particularly catching his interest. Getting sick of the process once more, he would almost give up, until one profile would stop him dead in his tracks.

Danny, 22 Profile Features: Career: Model, Height: 6’3, Weight: 205 lbs, Personality: Cocky, Domineering, Self-Centered

Adam was completely enamored with this profile. Danny had everything Adam wanted, and then some. While his personality left some to be desired, it was a sacrifice he would be willing to make. Looking over everything one final time, Adam knew that this was what he wanted. He clicked the big green “Confirm” button, and was presented with even more waivers and forms, which he breezed through again, tweaking small aspects until he had the perfect profile.

Now came the decision of how long to maintain this. He could select it for a small period of time to see how things went, like many of his friends did, or, making his reset permanent. Mulling over his choices, dam reflected on his experiences. His life was entirely uninteresting, always being a wingman, and never having any luck in dating himself. There wasn’t many things in his life he would miss if he decided to reset. He then thought about his friends. They had all changed back by now, with the novelty of the app over for them. Those who had changed aspects of themselves chose to keep it, but most didn’t want to change everything. Noticing the option to stay within the area, Adam mulled over it, thinking that he would remember Blake no matter what.

Soon, his choice was made.

Adam chose to stay in the area, and just in case, he drafted and sent one final text to Blake, his closest friend, simply saying, “Thank you for everything, hope to see you again.” With the text sent, and without a second thought, he selected a permanent reset, and clicked “Confirm” one final time.

Any regret Danny might have had about his decision would be gone in just a few weeks, as he made new friends, and had guys lining up to be with him. His promiscuous attitude was perfect, as he was dicking guys down left and right, without a care in the world. With the change setting in, his old friends became replaced with new ones, and the old Adam was no more. Danny had come across a shaggy haired guy on campus in one of his communications classes, who introduced himself as Blake. While the name sounded familiar, he simply could not remember from where. Nevertheless, he set his sights on him, and got Blake in bed, making him straddle his massive cock, and take load after load.

The two soon were fucking every day, as Blake poured his heart out to Danny, talking about an old friend of his, who he had assumed left town. Danny shrugged at this, and continued pounding Blake out, and as time passed, even he would forget about his old friend. With the month over, and changes setting in completely, any trace of Adam was now gone, and his new life had truly begun. As Danny admired himself in the mirror, he knew he was going to enjoy this new life, with his new fuck buddy, and live it to the fullest.

#ResetR #male body swap #male transformation #swapping #muscle jock #muscle hunk

[aislynn-wiley1999]

An Easy Decision

Sebastian x Reader One Shot

A year after graduating, Sebastian visits you unannounced and old memories stir.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, making out, oral sex, PinV sex, explicit sexual content, strong language, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 4.4k

Read it on AO3 here! Check out my other stuff as well :)

There was no way to describe how you had been feeling for the past day, month, year. As a fresh adult in the world, life had been increasingly monotonous and usual. Nothing out of place, nothing exciting, nothing frightening, just plain. Hogwarts had been a dream the last three years, but now that you had to work you felt as though the magic had been sucked from your life.

It wasn’t just because of working and surviving, but because your social interactions had dwindled. Work was boring, but it was your own fault. You didn’t know what you wanted to do with your life yet, so you told yourself you had one single year to work in a shop and figure it out. That was in June, and now it is April. Time was running out, and you were scared shitless. Keeping in touch with friends from school proved harder than intended, and while you meant to send letters it became more and more difficult to find ambition. Which was particularly embarrassing, since Slytherin’s were meant to have a never ending supply of ambition.

It was a quiet Friday in the small garment shop, and you were looking forward to the weekend. Nothing out of the ordinary, other than perhaps how quiet the shop was. Sitting behind the counter, reading a book lazily, you glance up when the bell on the door rings.

“Welcome in-” you stop, staring aghast at the person who has walked in, before smiling at them and letting out a small laugh. Sebastian Sallow stood in the doorway, grinning sheepishly at you and your surprised expression. He was one of the few friends you tried to keep in contact with, despite being busy and unmotivated.

“What are you doing here?” you shout out as you walk out from behind the counter. He doesn’t say anything right away as you wrap your arms around him, engulfing him in a hug. You feel him press his head into the crook of your neck, and you squeeze him tightly.

“Figured I would take a little birthday trip down here, visit old friends. Wanted it to be a surprise,” he says, pulling away with a smile. “And I have come to kidnap you on the promise of drinks on me.”

“Oh gods, yes, happy birthday!” you tell him, trying to cover up the fact that you had forgotten. But yes, today was 17 April, and his birthday had only been a few days earlier. “How does it feel to be nineteen?”

He laughs, giving a shrug. “Underwhelming, if anything. Do you have much longer here for the day?” he asks, clearly eager to get out and drink. You shake your head, smiling. “Give me fifteen minutes to count the money and lock up. It’s almost five anyways, and then we can go!”

You busy yourself closing the small shop, glancing up at him with a smile every so often. It was such a delight to see him, after almost a year of being apart. He looked good, tall and confident, and you could tell that he had grown into himself in the last year. There were this lingering feelings for him, of course, when you received a letter or thought of him on occasion, but right now it was just good to see your friend.

With a turn and lock, you closed the shop and the two of you ventured out onto the high street in search of drinks. “I’m thinking that maybe we head somewhere small,” Sebastian said, leading the two of you down the street. You nod, eager to sit and talk and drink. He looked radiant almost, the glow of the low sun illuminating him and his smiling face, his freckles practically glowing. It felt like nothing had changed since the last time you were together, and you loved that.

There was a small corner pub that seemed to beckon him, and he quickly pulled you inside. It was a Friday, so there were few spaces to choose from in the pub, but the two of you found a tiny booth situated in one corner. He left you there to buy the first round of drinks, quickly returning with two pints. Scooting over the accommodate him, the two of you pressed against each other in the tiny space as you drank your drinks.

“Please let me buy the next round, since it’s your bloody birthday,” you say, laughing as he shakes his head no. “This is my treat, for showing up unannounced,” he says, taking a gulp of his drink. “How have things been for you? We really must try to write to each other more.”

It was true, the two of you maybe exchanged letters once a month now. Life had gotten busy, for you and probably for him as well. “I’m mainly just working, nothing exciting,” you say, and then giggle. “This is embarrassing, but I can’t remember the last time I was in a pub on a Friday night.”

“Do you not like going out anymore? We could have gone and just gotten dinner, or even just taken a walk,” he says, his tone concerned. You find these suggestions sweet, a reminder of how caring he can be when he wants to be.

“No, I just don’t have much of a social life, and it would be pretty depressing if I came to the pub alone on a weekend,” you say, taking a swig of your drink. The golden liquid blooms in your chest, creating a warmth inside you. Sebastian nods in an understanding way. “That you be pathetic,” he says, grinning.

You laugh, and he laughs, and it's as though you have not been apart for the past nine months. “What have you been up to?” you ask him, trying to give him a chance to speak. He shrugs. “Same as you, just working. I went to see Ominis yesterday, poor bastard was also not expecting me and is sick as a dog.”

That statement seemed to answer your lingering question about why it was just the two of you out tonight. Unless he planned on more people meeting you there later. “Is anyone else coming tonight?” you ask, trying to get an answer. 

Sebastian’s smile wavers a bit, but only for a second. “Did you want other people to come?” he asks, almost trying to get an answer for himself. You shake your head, and he smiles. The two of you continue to drink your drinks, and soon you are staring at an empty cup.

Trying to fish out your wallet, he beats you to it and is at the bar in a flash. “Sebastian, I’m serious. Let me buy you at least one drink tonight as a celebration,” you protest as he comes back with full glasses. He only shakes his head, setting the drinks down.

“You can buy me one when I’m drunk,” he says, grinning. You don’t say anything, just sipping your drink while trying to hide your smile. You watch him out of the corner of my eye, how his throat moves when he swallows the alcohol. Perhaps it's the liquid running through your veins, but he looks better than he did in school. There was this new air of confidence surrounding you, and you wanted to say something bold but couldn’t bring yourself to it. Instead, you gulp the amber liquid in the hopes that the courage comes along the way.

“Woah! I didn’t actually mean that, neither of us need to get drunk before you buy me a drink,” Sebastian says, gently guiding the glass away from you. Giving him a funny look, you pull it back. “You don’t want to get drunk?”

He shakes his head, not smiling as big as he once was. “I don’t, not tonight, not with you.”

That makes you pause mid sip, thinking of all the ways his words could be interpreted. Looking at him, you furrow your eyebrows and hope he elaborates. Sebastian eyes you, looking shy and bashful in an instance. “Do you remember when we went to the Yule ball together last December?” he asks you.

You nod. Of course you did, even though the night hadn’t gone as planned. You had hoped that that was the night everything came full circle, that the two of you would get together. But instead, Sebastian drank too much and ended up throwing up in the bushes outside with you to witness it all. It was something the two of you laughed about later on, but you always felt disappointed.

“I wish I had kissed you that night,” he says, catching you completely off guard. “I regret drinking so much, but I was so nervous and wanted to feel confident, and I screwed it up. I screwed it up with you.”

Your mouth is half hanging open, not sure what to say. You are trying your best to process what he has just told you, just confessed, but you can’t for a minute. He waits expectantly for you to collect your thoughts and respond.

“So… you don’t want to get drunk tonight because… you want to kiss me?” you ask, feeling slow and out of touch. But when Sebastian laughs, it forces you to smile. “What?” you ask him, still smiling.

“I feel like wanting to kiss you is such an entry level requirement for everything else I want from you,” he says, his cheeks immediately turning red after saying that. Your’s go red as well, at what he could be implying. “But, I- why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, unsure of what else to say. 

“I didn’t want to mess anything up. I would have rather stayed your friend than, I don’t know, have scared you off with a big confession,” he said quickly. You shake your head, trying to convince him otherwise. “I don’t think you understand how much I would have reciprocated that confession,” you say, smiling.

“And now?” he says, looking at you with a sense of uncertainty. The smile on your face becomes a shy one as you look at him, unsure of how to say everything that you want to say. “I think that I look at you now, and all those feelings seem to have stayed with me. Like nothing has changed even though it’s been nine months since we’ve had a conversation,” you say, speaking truthfully. 

You don’t even get to look at the smile on his face for long before Sebastian leans in and presses a quick, soft kiss to your lips, pulling back after only a second. You instinctively lean forward as he pulls away, trying to catch his lips again, but he puts a hand on your arm. “Not here, in a pub surrounded by other people,” he says, his voice a whisper against your ear. You nod, understanding and agreeing. “Let’s go somewhere else, then.”

You nod. “I live with other people, though, and I have like, no privacy,” you tell him. He nods, and then continues. “I’m staying in an inn nearby,” he says, before shaking his head. You furrow your eyebrows in question, and he clarifies. “That just doesn’t seem right, me taking you to an inn. Not now, not after all this time.”

You shake your head at his words, not even having had that thought. “I just want to be near you, to make up for lost time.” The words out of your mouth surprise you with how bold they are, but you don’t back down. 

“Let’s just walk around until the morning,” he says, grinning. You smile but you shake your head again. “Take me back with you. I promise, I don’t care where we are.”

He nods before standing up, offering you a hand. You let him pull you out of the booth, and hand in hand you leave the half empty pints on the table.

—-------------------------------------------

The inn room is small, with nothing but a bed, a lamp, and a chest of drawers. There is a small bathroom to the left, and you spot Sebastian’s bags on one side of the floor. The two of you stood a few feet away from each other, unsure of where to go from here. As comfortable as you were with each other, it was clear that neither of you wanted to jump into bed with each other right away.

“This is why I didn’t want to bring you back here,” Sebastian said suddenly, looking embarrassed. You shake your head. “I just don’t know where to start, and I want to do this, I do, but I can’t fathom where to begin,” you say flustered. 

“Where to start? You don’t have to start or begin anything. I didn’t bring you here so you could perform or do anything for me. We can talk, or just stand here, or do whatever you want. Don’t feel pressured, and believe me, I’m probably more nervous being with you than you can imagine,” he says, running a hand through his hair with a smile. 

His words bring a sense of ease to you, maybe just what you needed to hear at that moment. You step forward until you’re right in front of him, letting him take one of your hands. Gingerly, you stand on your tiptoes and brush a kiss to his lips, waiting for him to move into it. For a moment, the two of you stand nose to nose, and then he closes the gap between you. 

The first few seconds are gentle and soft, testing the waters out for both of you. But soon, the movements of your lips become uncoordinated, desperate and fast. His hands find their way to your waist and you tangle yours in his hair. The two of you are standing, practically pulling the other person into them, trying to get as close as possible. 

“Can we- go to- the bed?” you breathe out in between kisses. He nods, and you climb onto the bed, pulling his weight on top of you. You let him cradle you as he presses slow kisses to your lips, his pace changing. He stops and looks at you, staring up from underneath him. “We don’t have to do anything else,” he says, looking at your face for hesitation.

“I want to,” you tell him. “I really, really do.”

Sebastian has a look on his face that betrays both nerves and excitement. It’s the same look that he had when he asked you to the Yule ball, over a year ago. He nods again, before pressing another soft kiss to your lips. He pulls back again, looking at you, before attaching his lips to your neck. You sigh, and the soft noise seems to ignite something in his brain.

He rolls both of you over, you being on top of his body now. In one swift move, he maneuvers the two of you so that you are sitting up and straddling him on the bed. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before practically smashing your lips together. There is a sense of urgency as you move, hands exploring each other as lips and tongues move together. 

You move your mouth, peppering light kisses along Sebastian’s jaw and down to his neck and you rock your body against him. He groans underneath you, your name leaving his lips as he rakes his hands over your back and down to your ass. Gripping you, he pulls you closer to him. Becoming impatient, you tug on his shirt in the hopes that he takes it off. The two of you break away for a moment, each tearing your own shirt over your body in a quick attempt to undress.

His hands come behind you, wanting to rid you of your bra, but he pauses. “Is this okay?” he asks, with a tone filled with concern. You press a light kiss to his lips, urging him to continue. “I promise I’ll say something if it’s not,” you breathe out, desperate for him to touch you. He seems to understand your urgency, and your bra is on the floor in the next second.

Sebastian stares at your chest, a look of marvel plastered on his face. In an instant, his lips are attached to your nipple, resulting in soft moans from you as you clutch his hair. “I need you, Sebastian,” you whisper as he sucks on the other nipple. He groans in response, pulling himself away from your chest. 

You attempt to reach a hand in between the two of you to touch him through his pants, but he stands with you wrapped around him, turning so that he can lay you gently on the bed. He touches your skirt with a light hand, looking at you for any hesitation. You don’t speak, but instead start to gather your skirt so that it bunches around your waist. You look at him, your eyes doing their best to say fuck me, please. Without a single word, you shimmy out of your underwear and invite him in.

Sebastian practically buries his face in you. His mouth and tongue make these obscene sounds as he licks, sucks, kisses, and laps at every part of your sex. The noises mix with the moaning and babbling that emerge from your mouth, and you’re saying these things that you never thought you would say. Things like more, oh fuck, Sebastian, I need more.

His hands are gripping onto the soft flesh of your hips and ass, pulling you closer to him. It almost feels as though he wants to swallow you whole as he works you with his mouth and lips. One of his hands disappears, and then you feel his fingers working their way inside of you. Gasping, you clench around the two fingers he has in you, feeling so full already from him. He moans into you, vibrating your lower half as he starts to pump his fingers in you. 

It’s too much, all too much. The way he is absolutely worshiping your body is going to cause you to explode. He’s curled his digits inside of you, his lips sucking like he can’t get enough, and you can feel your legs start to tremble. His name leaves your lips, and he does something extraordinary with his tongue that causes everything to shatter for you.

There’s no way to describe how good this all feels, except that perhaps you have touched the stars. He is still moving his fingers, his tongue, his lips, as you writhe and gasp on the bed. Once it becomes too much, you start to scoot away from his face, but he follows you with his hand.

“Oh god, it’s too much, please Sebastian,” you plead, shaking as he still pumps his hand into you. He’s watching you, his eyes dark and full of lust, as you try to move away from his hand. After a moment, he moves his hand and pulls his fingers out of you. You watched him, embarrassed, as he popped his fingers in his mouth. “Don’t do that,” you say, this shy feeling overcoming you.

“Why not? I just had my face buried in you,” he says, matter of factly, before grinning wickedly at you. You look down to where he is straining in his pants, and the desire to touch him overcomes you again. Sitting up slightly, you reach your hand out to the buttons on his pants.

He moves away from you, instead bending down to kiss you. “Please, let me touch you,” you say, reaching again for him. “I don’t want this to be over too quickly,” he says, cheeks running red. 

There’s a pause as you consider what he’s saying, and you look at him with a question written on your face. “I want to fuck you properly, and I know I won’t last if you use your mouth on me,” he explains, now really looking embarrassed. 

“Then do it,” you say, a sense of post-orgasm confidence running through you. You’re absolutely aching for him, and with your skirt hiked up and your flesh exposed you want him on you at this moment. There is a desire coursing through you, that only he can satisfy. “Please, Sebastian.”

Without another word, he climbs onto you and devours your lips in a needy kiss. Your bare core presses against his clothed erection, the sensation causing you to moan into his mouth. He immediately starts to grind himself against you, the two of you acting almost like crazed animals as you try to create a sense of friction. 

“Take them off,” you say, fiddling with his pants again. This time, he stands and obliges. You watch as he removes his trousers and underclothes, and stare as he bares himself for you. Now there was no sense of hiding from him, no sense of unknown. You clenched around nothing as you watched him give his length two quick pumps, the thought of what to come already driving you insane. 

“You know I’ve thought about this for a long time,” he says softly, climbing onto you again. “How I would take you, how you would look, what I would do to you. You’re perfect, absolutely perfect.” His head dips, kissing the outside of your breast. “And I want this to be perfect for you.”

“Sebastian,” you say, coming out more as a gasp than actual words. “Please, I think I might go insane if you don’t touch me.”

There is a hint of a smirk that comes over his face, and you feel him line your bodies up. His head bends down again to kiss you, whispering sweet things as he pulls his lips away. Gently, he slides himself into you, coaxing and teasing so that it causes you to feel every little bit. You both gasp in unison when he is fully inside you, a feeling of fullness and closeness like you had never experienced before. 

He doesn’t move for a moment. “I want to hear everything that comes out of your mouth,” he says, commanding you. You nod, the feeling of him already leaving you dazed and delicious. Slowly, he pulls out. And then he pushes in again, slow and deep, and you can’t hold back.

There are these babbling words and sounds coming out of your mouth as he fucks you, rotating and snapping his hips. Words like fuck, oh god, please Sebastian, don’t stop, feels so good. Things you never imagined you would say, at least not before today. But now it feels natural as they tumble out, mixed with gasps and moans. You intentionally tighten slightly around him, and it brings noises and words from him. He’s calling you perfect, so good, an angel, beautiful, and everything else you could want to hear from him. 

His thrusts are rhythmic, deep and precise. There is no great urgency between you, instead just relishing in the movements of each other. You bring your legs around his back, hands clawing at his back. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he says, his eyes shut as he moves in and out of you. All you can do is moan in response, no real thoughts left in your head.

But then you feel something else. Sebastian has slipped a sneaky hand in between you, pressing languid circles into your clit as he moves. He has started to get sloppy, his hips snapping with less of a rhythm, and you know he wants you to finish first. The combination of his hand and his length pumping in you cause you to arch away from the bed, his name coming out in gasps as you feel everything. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge of everything, and with one firm press into your clit you fall over.

Everything is on fire on your body, you can’t help it. You grab onto one of your breasts, needing to feel something more as you come. He is still saying things to you, things that only seem to drag out the feeling. “You’re doing so well, oh my god, you look so perfect,” he breathes out, his movement messy. You moan his name loudly one last time, and that’s it for him. He groans, thrusting three more times before collapsing on top of you. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him as he buries his head into your hair. He lazily kisses your neck and jaw, as if he wants to taste your skin. Your fingers stroke his hair lightly, both of you breathing loudly and not really moving.

“Was that okay?” he asks suddenly, lifting his head up a bit to look at you. 

“I feel like ‘okay’ is a massive understatement,” you tell him, a smile emerging on your face. He matches your smile, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Why did you not want to bring me here originally?” you ask, causing him to drop his smile. Sebastian thinks for a moment, looking almost embarrassed.

“I just- I felt like you deserved more than the bed at an inn. And I have to go back home in two days, and it just didn’t feel right for you. For how I feel about you, the way I wanted you. But I’m glad you talked me down from thinking that,” he says, his smile returning. You nod, understanding what he means. “And how do you feel about me, or how do you want me?” you ask, almost shyly. 

But Sebastian grins wider, and you feel foolish for asking. “I like you. It’s been hard, these last few months without you. And I think that we could be great together, that you should move closer to me or I should move closer to you. If you’ll have me, that is.”

You nod, a sense of relief flooding your mind. He lays his head back on you, and for a moment you say nothing. But then you remember something, and giggle. He lifts his head back up slightly, giving you a confused look. 

“You’re still inside me,” you say, moving slightly. His eyes widen and he slips out of you gently, pressing a small kiss to your temple as he does so. He stands up, heading to the bathroom. Pausing in the doorway, he turns to look at you laid out naked on the bed. “So you’ll have me, then?” he asks you with a soft smile.

“Of course I will,” you say, it being one of the easiest decisions you’ve ever made. “Of course, Sebastian.”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #slytherin #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow oneshot #eventual smut #friends to lovers

[super-clearlysaltybouquet]

The one With The Heat Wave (1/2)

 Part 1/2

Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 

Established couple (throuple), Hint of possible Poly!marauders x reader to come?

Feel free (after reading) to let me know where you guys would like part 2 to go…

Summary: Reader is very (sexually) frustrated, it’s also far, far too hot out

Warnings: Sexual Content (but no smut…yet)

Some fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

The heat wave started a week ago. And it had been a week since either of your boyfriends had touched you. 

You’re sitting in between them in one of Bins’s history of magic lectures, right at top of the cascading auditorium, both the farthest row away from the ground - and your terribly boring lecturer. Everyone’s breath is coming out in tight puffs and long sighs, and that smell of sweat hangs heavy in the air. 

‘You’d think they’d take pity on us’, Sirius says, aggressively fanning his face. He’s more pink than he should be, and his face is dotted almost entirely in perfectly round baubles of sweat. 

‘Surely this classifies as youth endangerment’, James chimes in from the row below you, and you can almost imagine the steam sizzling up from the top of his head. It’s far too hot, and everyone in the room but the ghost is feeling it. 

‘Didn’t McGonagall say something about a charm on the walls to cool the air down?’, Sirius asks to no one in particular.

‘We’re in bloody Scotland Padfoot, there’s no way she was being serious’, Remus pants, sparing Sirius a glace that somehow manages to be equally sympathetic as it is exasperated. The heat has got everyone on a short fuse. But worst of all neither of the boys have touched you beyond tight chaste kisses, and gentle pats to skin in almost a week. Since this hellfire decided to settle above ground. 

Remus has got his sleeves rolled all the way up. His muscles and vascular veins are more than poking out from his now near-translucent white school shirt. You know some of the Hufflepuff girls two seats over have noticed too, most definitely fanning themselves over more than just the hot air. It’s almost as nauseating. The smell isn’t helping either. The perspiration of the other 30 students in the room pales in comparison to the men right next to you. Their smell, the heavy breathing, and the undoubtedly sticky bodies beside you keep your mind entirely unsettled. Drawing your thoughts helplessly back to nights, and days spent in beds, bathtubs and broom closets. You hear your overworking heartbeat in two places at once, as blood rushes to your head and then all the way back down again.

‘Shhhh quiet, I can’t hear what he’s saying’, you chastise, motioning to Bins, your only hope is distracting yourself long enough to wait out this dry spell.

‘Sweetheart, no one can hear what he’s saying, he’s been mumbling for the last half hour’, Remus says.

‘And even if he wasn’t with the way everyone seems to be breathing like rabid dogs in here that would surely drown him out regardless’, Sirius adds, placing a gentle hand on your exposed thigh. The head rush is instant, like huffing a pack of cigarettes, or being doused in ice cold water. Then Sirius is retracting his hand back to fan his face. Leaving you to contemplate the newfound wetness between your legs. These slivers of contact were all you had to go on over the past week. Light touches, grazes and slip ups here and there. Far too minimal and devastatingly un-satisfying. It made your head spin, and your fingers tingle. You'd put on a brave face, but the waiting game was finally catching up to you.

‘I really don’t feel well’, you say, furrowing your brows together, gripping the wooden chair beneath you tightly. Desperately trying to bring balance to your very out of balance mind and body.

‘You and me both Y/N’, Sirius says under his breath, before turning to take notice of your genuinely sickly state. In an instant he’s fanning you instead, desperately, and with both hands.

Remus turns to look at you, and he isn’t able to hide his concern. 

‘Ohhh, my baby’, he coos, clasping his hands on either cheek to wipe your sweat away. You cross your legs in an instant.

‘Is it all too much for you?’ he continues, and you nod desperately between his hands, gripping onto his wrists to keep them there. It’s strangely counterintuitive. It’s the hottest week the Scottish Highlands have seen, probably ever, and you’re in despair to be touched. When you should really be shrinking away from any skin-to-skin contact. Somehow their attention is your salvation, the eternal cool to the blistering heat. 

Remus leans down to nip at your neck then, stealing a sweet kiss and a quick bite to the skin, soothing it with his tongue. And you fucking moan in your history of magic lecture. You’re reaching delirium, you really can’t be held accountable. Thank Godric, amongst the room full of overheating, whining students it isn’t particularly out of place. But even if someone pulled you up on it, you’re not sure you’d be embarrassed. Sirius’s hand returns to your thigh, gripping much tighter than before, sliding the tips of his fingers ever closer to the hem of your ruffled school skirt. Oh, they've definitely caught on. You start whimpering, practically shaking with need. ‘How about we head back up to the dorm? how does that sound?’, Sirius whispers in your ear, and you nod frantically. Remus is just looking at you, his hands still softly clasping your cheeks. His eyes gone black; pupils widened beyond belief. 

‘Just a reminder, public indecency is a crime’, James quips sharply from the row in front, his body contortioned to look at you from behind him. He sounds more frustrated than he does humorous in his remark, quite out of character for him. You’re not sure how long he’s been watching you three. Lost in your daze. He looks more out of it than he did just a minute ago, and his eyes lock onto yours. His lips are bitten, with sly traces of shredded skin, and he’s most definitely panting, as Sirius put it earlier: “like a rabid dog”. Your two boyfriends glance between each other, subtle knowing smirks gracing their lips.

‘Jealous, Prongs?’, Sirius tests, leaning forward endearingly, so the ends of his longer hair fan over James’s face.

‘Oh fuck off’, James whispers in defeat, and the tinge on his cheeks looks more like embarrassment than a just hot flush - as he turns his head back to face Bins at the front of the hall.

Remus and Sirius keep their eyes on one another for a little while, taking in James’s outburst. Some sort of silent communication takes place between them, and from the way you read them oh so easily you know they’re saying: ‘we’ll talk about that later’. 

Their attention returns to you. ‘How about we head up then, dove?’, Remus says, and you know it’s not really a question. 

‘y-yeah…’, you whimper, moving to stand as Sirius has already hastily packed up all your things on your behalf, slinging your bag over his shoulder. Remus keeps a firm hand around your waist, guiding the three of you out through the back of the lecture hall.

#poly!wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x remus lupin #remus lupin x reader

[the0doreslover]

For the first time, part II | t.n

Theodore found himself strangely preoccupied with thoughts of you after that short encounter. He couldn't help but wonder what it was about you that intrigued him so much. Every time he saw you around the school, he felt his heart race a bit faster. He found himself looking forward to breakfast just to catch a glimpse of you, and he often caught himself daydreaming about what it would be like to have a conversation with you that extended beyond a few words.

Days turned into weeks, and Theodore's curiosity about you only grew. He discovered from his friends, Blaise and Pansy, that you were known for the way you were quite the mystery, always appearing out of nowhere and disappearing just as quickly. Theodore was captivated by your enigmatic presence.

One day, as the weather started to shift towards autumn, Theodore found himself walking alone in the courtyard after class. Lost in thought, he was startled when he heard your voice behind him.

“Lost again Nott?”

Turning around, Theodore saw you leaning against a nearby tree, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. He chuckled, surprised by how comfortable he felt around you despite barely knowing you.

"I suppose I have a tendency to wander," he replied, his lips curving into a small smile.

You pushed yourself off the tree and took a step closer. "Well, I must admit, I'm intrigued. You don’t look at me with disgust like the other slytherins… it’s nice”

"Is that so?" Theodore raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious about your perspective.

"Yeah. You're quiet, but you don't exude the same air of superiority that most of your housemates do."

He shrugged, leaning against the tree now. "I find that whole superiority thing a bit tiresome, to be honest."

You nodded in agreement. "Me too. So, what do you do when you're not wandering, Mr. Nott?"

Theodore chuckled. "Well, I enjoy spending time in the library, reading and researching various subjects. And I have a penchant for painting."

"Painting, huh? I wouldn't have pegged you as the artistic type."

He smirked. "Appearances can be deceiving, don't you think?"

You laughed, the sound light and pleasant. "Touché. Well, maybe you can show me some of your paintings someday."

"I'd like that," he admitted, feeling a warmth spread through him at the thought. "And maybe this time Hermione won't drag you away from me," he laughed.

As the conversation continued, Theodore found himself opening up to you in a way he hadn't with others. Your easygoing nature and genuine interest in him put him at ease. It was a feeling he wasn't used to, but one he welcomed wholeheartedly.

Little did he know that this conversation marked the beginning of a deep and unexpected connection between the two of you.

Over the following weeks, you and Theodore's friendship blossomed into something more profound. Your witty banter and shared interests formed a strong foundation, and the mysterious air that surrounded you only intrigued him further.

As the months flowed by, the bond between Theodore and you deepened. Each passing day seemed to lock in the connection you shared, an unspoken understanding. The initial curiosity that had drawn you two together evolved into something more profound—an undeniable closeness.

Conversations that once centered around casual topics soon dived into the depths of your hopes and dreams. Theodore found himself sharing his aspirations with you, discussing his fascination with magic's intricacies and the fervor he felt for painting. And you, in turn, bared your soul, revealing your desire for adventure, a hunger to explore.

One serene evening, with the sun casting its last rays across the Hogwarts grounds, you and Theodore stood by the Black Lake. The water flowed, reflecting the fading light, while a gentle breeze tousled your hair, intertwining it with the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

“i haven’t drink anything for weeks” you said looking at the boy who looked almost painted

“i’m glad” he smiled

“i think… we should play shot trivia” you said hopefully

“absolutely not… for all i know you could end up at the hufflepuff table with cedric diggory”

you both laughed

"Have you ever wondered about your path after Hogwarts?" you asked, your gaze lingering on the horizon.

Theodore leaned against a nearby tree, a thoughtful expression playing on his features.

"I've given it thought. Continuing my studies, perhaps looking into obscure branches of magic, and certainly nurturing my love for painting."

Turning to him, a playful grin tugged at your lips.

"So, a wizard with a penchant for artistry? Quite the intriguing combination."

A soft chuckle escaped him. "Appearances can indeed be deceptive. And what about you? What do you envision for your post-Hogwarts days?"

A wistful sigh escaped your lips, and your gaze grew distant. "I've always been more captivated by the present than the future. Yet, I can't help but entertain the idea of traveling."

Theodore nodded in agreement. "That sounds like an awe-inspiring adventure."

Silence settled between you, and Theodore felt a surge of courage, a yearning to confess the feelings that he could no longer suppress.

"Y/n," he began, his voice tender, "there's something I've been wanting to share with you."

Turning toward him, curiosity lit up your eyes.

"What is it, Theo?"

Taking a deep breath, he traced intricate patterns on the tree's bark, the words forming in his mind.

"Every moment spent with you has shaped my life in ways I never even realised till recent. From the minute you sat next to me at the Slytherin table, I haven't been able to think of any name but yours."

Your eyes widened, and the world seemed to still. Then, a smile bloomed across your face. "Theodore Nott, are you implying that you have a crush on me?"

He smirked, his cheeks warming. "I suppose you could say that."

Your grin widened, and you stepped closer, a playful glint in your eyes. "You know, Theodore, I've been secretly hoping you'd say that."

He blinked, amusement filling his eyes. "You were?"

Your nod was accompanied by an unwavering gaze. "Absolutely... I've been feeling the same way too."

Relief and contentment surged through him, and a genuine smile graced his lips. "Really?"

A playful smile accompanied your response. "Definitely. I guess we've been dancing around these feelings for quite a while, haven't we?"

Theodore chuckled, his nerves giving way to a sense of reassurance. "Seems that way."

Reaching out, you gently took his hand in yours, your fingers intertwining with an easy familiarity.

"So, what's the next chapter, Mr. Nott?"

Theodore stared at your face, the way the sun hit it in just the right way made heat rush to his face. In that heart-stirring moment, he leaned in, his heartbeat echoing the anticipation in his chest. He pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your lips.

"I say we travel around the world, I'll draw you in every country we visit."

"Promise?" you asked.

"Promise," he confirmed before placing another sweet kiss on your lips.

“so still a no to shot trivia?”

“still a no”

“okay just checking”

#harry potter #hogwarts #fanfic #slytherin #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson

[lunarfleur]

Sure! I don't mind requesting something new! So you write somewhere in your works how Miles 42 and reader met through location, "whether it be going to the same school or living in the same building or whatever"

I wanna' see a fanfic in Miles pov how he and reader met and how their relationship developed throughout the process! I wanna' know if he's going to make a move in interacting with reader or such. :))

Mr. Tambourine Man ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

A/N: Many people will tell you this song is about a drug dealer. I, however, have always taken Mr. Tambourine Man as an analogy for youth. Take this as you will.

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @hiyaitssans @nagi3seastorm @luvjunie @milesmolasses @n1cole-ghost @kombuuuu

This is x fem! Reader

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.

I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to

Growing up, Miles had always been the dull kid in the corner of the classroom. It was his nature.

He didn’t really remember his dad’s death, but there was always a sort of emptiness in the Morales apartment that never got filled. The emptiness has always been there, in his home and in his mother.

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me

In the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you

On the late nights, he hears his mother sitting in the living room all by herself lonesome. She sits on the couch, in the same spot she has been all these years; next to the spot his father would have taken up.

He can imagine it: his mother curled up under a blanket, her husband’s arm resting over her shoulders. He’d kiss her head and the spot behind her ear. She’d pretend to pay no mind and act as if he doesn’t still make her giddy like he did back when they were young.

Though I know that evening's empire has returned into sand, vanished from my hand.

Left me blindly here to stand, but still not sleeping.

But his father was not there. The late Jeff Morales did not get to stay up with his wife, watching the television as their child sleeps. He was dead, but it sometimes felt like his ghost was haunting the city. He’s gone, but it’s like he’s still there.

As he grew up, Miles did not get the joy his classmates did. He watched his mother work like a dog to support the two of them. He spent many nights alone, waiting for her to come home.

It was sad. Miles was sad.

My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet.

I have no one to meet, and the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.

So here he sits, in the corner of his studio art class, his last period of the day. Miles is behind an easel, dried paint covering his hands and table. There was music playing in his headphones, but he wasn’t really listening. It was to block out the other noises.

The door opens, and in walks a girl he’s never seen. It was an odd feeling, at first, a shred of nervousness he didn’t quite understand.

He looked around the room, at all the other students and seats, only to realize the one next to him was the only one open. Perfect.

She talks to the teacher, nothing he can hear, snd watches as she slowly makes her way over to the spot next to him. Miles turns away, picking up his paint brush to avoid and other contact.

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.

I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.

In the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you.

Unfortunately for him, Miles looks unapproachable. He looks like he should be friendly and open. He’s got those big, brown, shiny doe eyes and dimples. His face is dusted with freckles. His lips are big and plush. His nose sits perfectly in the center of his face, blending together nicely with every other feature.

However, people avoid him. He’s quiet and keeps to himself. Miles is sort of a mystery, someone people don’t know much about. He’s got eye bags and an RBF, so people leave him alone. Sometimes it seems as if he’s invisible.

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship.

My senses have been stripped.

The girl sits down, taking out her supplies as she was most likely directed. Tense hands moved shakily. Her breaths were harsh. Her eyebrows furrowed tightly against her forehead. She was nervous.

With a skip of his heart, Miles clears his throat. Her head snaps over quickly, eyes wide with anxiety as he stared her down.

My hands can't feel to grip.

My toes too numb to step.

“Uh..I’m Miles.”

She hesitates, biting the inside of her cheek before nodding.

“Y/N.”

Miles doesn’t look away. Y/N peeks over at his canvas. Her lips curve down into a smile, any trace of her previous fear gone. Her lips pressed together tightly, eyebrows raising. No tension, no anxiety.

“You’re really talented.”

“…Thanks.”

Her smile did not falter. She looked at him for a moment, and that one moment felt like an eternity.

Her nose, cheeks, and lips were a blend of heaven sitting on her face. Her hair was smooth and clean. Miles swore her eyes looked like stars.

Y/N was definitely beautiful.

Wait only for my boot heels to be wandering.

I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade into my own parade.

Cast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it.

“What, uh,” Miles spoke again, “what class was you coming from?”

He watched as Y/N fumbled with her schedule, a blue piece of paper crumpling in her hands.

“I have Spanish II, but I was in the office.”

Miles nodded, a small simper forming across his lips.

“I’m in there, too.”

Y/N grinned at him, eyes squinting slightly. It was almost bright.

Though you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun, it's not aimed at anyone.

It's just escaping on the run.

“I’ll walk with you, tomorrow?”

It came out as a question, and Miles would be lying if he said that didn’t surprise him. There was a fuzzy, warm feeling in his stomach that, for a second, made him question if he was getting sick.

Y/N chuckled, a simple melody that sent flowers blooming across his skin. It felt like goosebumps, but much more intense. The sensation matched that of bathing in the sun.

“I’d like that.”

And but for the sky there are no fences facing.

And if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme to your tambourine in time

Y/N glanced over to a small group of kids sitting diagonally from them. They were watching intently, eyes wide with curiosity. As quickly as it came, Miles’s almost cheerful expression fell back into place. The corners of his lips dropped, so did his eyebrows. In less than a moment, he was tense once more.

It's just a ragged clown behind.

I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing.

They turned away awkwardly, returning to their projects. Y/N sucked in a breath. There was tension within her chest. It was a sudden, sharp sensation in his fingertips.

“So did you just move here?”

Y/N smiled, nodding.

“Yeah, from New Jersey.”

Miles nodded along intently.

“How come?”

“Family.”

Questions and answers came as the two packed up their things.

And take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind, down the foggy ruins of time

The loud and obnoxious bell rang, and every other student in the class shoved past one another to get out of the room.

Far past the frozen leaves, the haunted frightened trees.

They walked down the hallways together slowly. For the first time, he felt as if he could ask questions. For the first time, someone answered. She answered.

Out to the windy beach, far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.

“So, what’s Jersey like?”

“Well, it’s fun. The food is great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Miles snickered.

Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky, with one hand waving free.

“Do you like New York?”

“I’m…adjusting.”

“Adjusting?”

“It’s easy to get lost, here.”

Smiling shyly, Y/N pressed her lips together firmly. Miles could almost feel the heat of embarrassment coming from off her face.

“You just need someone to show you around. It gets easy, after all while.”

Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands.

“What’s there to show?”

Miles smiled, looking at the girl next to him as they stepped down the front steps of Visions Academy.

“The sky.”

There was a sudden melancholy feeling that ran down Miles’s spine. It was the same feeling he’d felt on those late nights, waiting for his mother to come home.

Miles did not remember his dad’s death. He didn’t remember the funeral. He just remembered the day the apartment felt less like home.

With all memory and fate, driven deep beneath the waves, let me forget about today until tomorrow.

“It’s the same sky as the one in New Jersey.”

“Different view.”

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.

“You’ll show me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll show you.”

I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.

“Good.”

“I’ll show you my mural, too.”

“Mural?”

“For my dad.”

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.

Miles nodded, smiling. She nodded back, humming in reply.

Miles had always been so much like his father. The same smile, the same attitude, the same wit.

Y/N looked at Miles curiously, and Miles became painfully aware of that fact. Birds sung in his lungs and trees grew in his mind. Fresh air.

“Let’s go, Miles. I’m expecting a tour.”

In the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you.

#earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spiderman #miles morales #miles morales x reader

[zentraex]

Wishing on World Wish Day is a funny thought. Magic doesn’t exist in our world. Still, trying doesn’t hurt, right? Maybe your favourite fictional character comes to life?

Remember: English is a lot different than German. I apologise for any grammar mistakes.

Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, Yandere, Mentioning of Masturbation, Stalking

From Another World

Monday, 29. April 2024

Dear Diary,

Today is World Wish Day. Normally, I don't believe in that, but what's wrong with giving it a try, right? After all, no one will know but you, so it's worth a try, even if it's just for fun.

I'm totally obsessed with this anime: "My Hero Academia". It's been a long time since I've watched the anime and yet I can't stop throwing my money out the window for merch. After all this time, I still read fanfictions about Katsuki. I wish someone like him would exist in real life, or better yet, he would exist, explicitly. Do you think he'd like me then? I hope so. I like him so much that my heart wouldn't take it if he hated me.

With red cheeks, you close the book and grin to yourself. It's a silly entry, but you still love to think about "what if..." situations.

And what better day to try than World Wish Day?

Maybe, just maybe, the wish will come true after all.

You giggle again, what a stupid thought.

_

A loud noise that you can't assign wakes you up the next day. Tired, you rub your eyes and glance at your phone's clock.

It's an hour before your alarm goes off and you need to get ready for school. Smiling, you lie down again, but the rumbling in your apartment startles you up.

Your parents are on vacation and you should be alone.

A burglar...

is your first thought. Your heart pounds against your chest as you reach for the baseball bat in your closet. It was a gift from your childhood friend. You don't have any contact with them anymore, but you find it difficult to detach yourself from things.

Who would have thought that it could be of use after all?

The sleepiness is completely gone and adrenaline is pumping in your veins. Completely in a state of euphoria, you are not even silent as you rush into the living room, club firmly in your grip and ready to strike.

Of course, the burglar notices you. Your footsteps are not quiet. But don't worry, someone like him would even notice you if you sneaked up.

It's dark, you can only vaguely see his head turned in your direction.

You swing with full power...

...

...

...

... but suddenly it explodes, your bat. The blast causes you to fall back to the floor of your room and the smell of smoke blocks your nasal cavities. Your breath is shaking and your body trembles.

Was the explosion real?

You don't even have time to think about it, because a few milliseconds after your impact, the burglar grabs you by the face and pushes your upper body down. You can feel how he puts pressure on your body with his legs, not only immobilizing you completely, but also causing you immense pain.

What do you do in such a situation?

Right! Crying and begging.

"T-Take what you want," you begin as fat balls of water flow through your face. "Just not the family pictures, my mother is very attached to them. Please don't take my beloved father's trophy either, he's so proud of them," you sniff. "A-and please don't take the necklace in my jewelry box. It's a family heirloom."

The otherwise silent room fills itself with your sobs as you tell him about the things that are worth so much to you and your family. He doesn't say anything.

You're scared. Your field of vision is blocked by his hand, it stinks of smoke, you are immobilized and everything hurts. All the while, the burglar is silent.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he says after a while.

"Huh?"

The grip on your face comes loose and your watery eyes show you a blurry gray vision of a man. His voice sounds like Bakugou's.

"You kidnapped me, why are you begging like a baby now?"

It takes a while for you to be able to process the info. The last heavy drops roll down your cheeks and your vision are clearing. There is a man in front of you and he has light, spiky hair and a prominent face that you would recognize anywhere.

"B-Bakugou?" it slips out of you. "A Bakugou cosplayer?"

He looks and sounds one-on-one like Bakugou, your beloved anime character.

At the mention of his name, his grips tighten again, eliciting a whimper from you.

"I'll give you ten seconds. Tell me who you are and how you know my name. Why am I here?"

"I-I'm Reader a-and I know the character you're cosplaying because I'm a huge fan of him, a-"

He interrupts you by putting a hand on your mouth.

"Figure that I cosplay? I'm real."

Shit, I'm dying at the hands of a maniac...

He looks at you for a while before speaking again.

"I'm going to let you go now, turn on the lights. Don't do shit, you’ll regret it."

He doesn't let go of you until you nod. For the first time, you can breathe properly, but your limbs still hurt unbearably. On shaky legs, you walk to the light switch and then turn towards the person.

Now that you can see it closely, you notice that he looks like the real Bakugou down to the smallest detail.

Crazy...

When you look into his eyes, you notice how he looks around the room. Your whole walls are full of him, your bed is full of plushies, and your closets have a whole bunch of Bakugou figurines. Even your pajamas have a Bakugou pattern.

"Are you a stalker? Shit, ended up with a lunatic."

"What? No! I'm just a huge fan of him."

He then just clicks his tongue and crosses his arms.

"Stop talking like I'm not real."

In the meantime, your pulse has regulated itself again. Maybe that's why you find the courage to raise your eyebrows skeptically and cross your arms.

"No, you're not. Bakugou is a fictional character. You really need to get help, my friend."

Then he says with gnashing teeth: "No, I'm not."

"Oh, yes? How do you think I get all the close-ups of you?"

He seems to pause and steps closer to the images. His gaze scans them all: the moment he collapsed in front of Deku after fighting him, when he was kidnapped by the League of Villains and sat tied up in a chair, when he fought Deku and Ochako with Ida on the team, and many more. More precisely, all the defining moments of his life are glued to your wall, just not from his perspective.

He has to swallow as he lets it sink in.

Could you be telling the truth?

No way, right? He experienced it! He can feel and think, how can he be fictional?

But then why do you have all these memories?

Suddenly, he is plagued by a headache and nausea almost makes him spit up.

Was his life just a show for people like you? Was it never about saving lives? To be a hero? All his work, courage, heroic deeds were not self-willed, but written by someone?

But he's here now, isn't he? He's made it to the real world, so he's thinking for himself now, isn't he?

But how did he do it?

His gaze wanders to you, who looks at him expectantly.

It must have something to do with you. After all, he's in your house for a reason, right?

Did you bring him to life?

"Look, I'm serious. I'm real. The explosion earlier, can anyone else do that?"

Your eyes widen, you've totally forgotten about it in the heat of the moment. A normal person can't do that, so how did he do it?

You are silent and your silence gives him the answer he needs.

"See? Maybe I was fictional, but you must have brought me here somehow."

Me?

Your gaze wanders to your journal and the idea that your wish has come true pops up.

Can it be?

Impossible...

It was just a stupid thought, a little joke to yourself. Magic doesn't exist in your world, but how do you explain this situation?

Suddenly, your heart is beating like crazy and your body is getting all hippy.

Bakugou Katsuki? Real? In your house?

However, the fan-girl in you only comes out briefly when you realize that you're not just standing in front of your big hero in your pajamas, but he's standing in your fan-girl room.

You can't even put into words the shame you suddenly feel when the blush goes to your head.

"S-So you're real, huh?" you say quietly. "That's cool."

Nervously, you play with your sweaty fingers and quickly realize how overwhelmed you actually are.

What are you doing now? What's the best way to deal with the situation?

"What do we do now? My parents are on vacation, so you can't stay here forever."

He frowns thoughtfully and asks, "How long are they on vacation?"

"Four days to go. I don't know if that's enough to find a way to bring you back to your world...", you murmur.

Bakugou pauses for a moment.

His world, huh? The world in which he is only fictional, controlled by the ideas of a stranger.

Does he really want that?

_

By now you're at school and Bakugou is alone in your house, bored. The TV program only brings junk, which is why his gaze wanders around your room all the time – nothing better to do anyway.

Something has been confusing him since the beginning of his arrival...

This strange feeling...

This feeling of...

Pride?

Proud that he is being loved here like this. Of course, in his world he also had fans, but no real ones. It elicits a grin full of arrogance from him.

He wants to feel it, recognition, appreciation, love.

Without much thought, he goes out and runs in any direction.

You are home in a series of apartment blocks close to the city center. So, it doesn't take long until he hears the first people talking about him.

"Oh my God, look at this Bakugou cosplay! How good is that?"

"How well taken!"

"Can I take a picture with you?"

This goes on all the time.

In the beginning it feels good, very good.

But...

Something is bothering him....

That he is not recognized as himself, but only as a costume. He puts his hands in his pocket and walks back with an annoyed expression. Almost at your apartment block, you run into him.

While he remains as still as a board, you almost fall over when you two collide.

"Bakugou!" you breathe a sigh of relief. You look like you've been scared, your skin sweaty and your eyes wide open. "I thought you didn't like it with me or something..."

Something is happening in him again.

He can't even describe this feeling...

No matter what it is, he likes it, very much and he has to pull himself together so that he doesn't start grinning.

"What are you doing out here?"

"I've had a look around here."

You smile and nod in understanding. In the meantime, you have calmed down and can think clearly again.

"I wanted to go to the library today and see if there are some solutions to bring you back. Do you want to come with me?"

Then his brow furrows again and he clicks his tongue.

"I don't have time for that."

Instead of being sad about the answer, you have to giggle. You've already expected such an answer, after all, you know him – and you love him just the way he is.

"That's okay. Here's the key to getting up. I'll see you later."

Deep down, he hopes you can't find a way to bring him back to his world.

_

You didn't find a way, not even for the next four days. Your only guess is that you'll have to wish him back next year on World Wish Day.

Hopefully this will work out...

As much as you like him, your favorite character doesn't belong to your world. Here, he has no IDs, people only know him as a character, he can't live the life as a hero that he wants to and he doesn't have a place to stay.

His life would be a disaster here and you don't wish that for him.

But how do I make it possible for him to live here for a year?

Your front door rings and your face turns pale.

Your parents...

As you walk to your door with your legs shaking like crazy, you swear your heart stopped for a second.

"Reader, you should have told us about the current situation!"

...

"And you could have introduced us to your boyfriend earlier!"

What?

Your gaze wanders to Bakugou, who smirks at you while your mother hugs him.

"My poor son-in-law, you were afraid of ending up on the street after your parents died."

Your father puts a hand on Bakugou's shoulder.

"As long as you continue to treat my daughter well, you can stay here for eternity, Mania."

_

"I found someone on the internet who would fake all this paperwork," Bakugou says.

"Yes? This is good. Do you want me to come with you?"

He shakes his head.

"No, it's too dangerous."

You just nod silently, and turn to your wall.

Sighing, you begin to tear down the pictures on your wall.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to rip it all of. It's certainly creepy for you to see all the photos of you. You live here and I want you to feel comfortable."

"It doesn't bother me."

Surprised, you turn to him.

"Sure?"

"Yes."

You gaze at his laid-back form, missing out on his racing heart.

For some reason, he didn't like it.

For some reason, he panicked.

For some reason, he had started taking pictures of you as well...

_

"Today is your first day of school, excited?"

"No."

"Not a bit?"

"No."

"Not even a little bit?"

This time, you only get an annoyed look in response, after which you just laugh.

Bakugou then turns his gaze to the ground and fights the flush of his cheeks with a frown.

No matter how grumpy or negative he reacts, you always seem to be smiling.

He's noticed how well you seem to know him.

"You don't mean it."

And every time you were right.

No matter what he did, you always seem to like it.

Not even Kirishima accepted him as much as you did.

At school, he quickly realizes that you're incredibly popular.

Especially the boys seem to like you a lot...

Not even Kirishima accepted him as much as you did.

Since he's been in your world, he feels less and less like a hero...

When you leave the house, he follows you in the shadwos. The fear that something could happen to you is so big that he wants to lock you up...

He takes pictures of you all the time. If you take a shower, he'll sneak in and steal a few moments, only to be able to blow off steam later.

When you're sleeping, he lies down next to you without you knowing.

He takes advantage of your ignorant parents to be able to play "couple" with you.

Maybe that's his true self?

His gaze darkens as a classmate embraces you.

Bloodlust leaves him thirsty for violence.

Not even Kirishima accepted him as much as you did.

He’s sure you'll accept it that way as well.

#yandere #mha #bnha #mha x reader #x reader #bnha x reader #female reader #yandere x reader #yandere bnha #yandere bakugou #mha yandere bakugou x reader #yandere bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #Katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugou #Yandere Katsuki #Bakugou #yandere katsuki x reader

[egcdeath]

cupid’s arrow

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: you and joel have your first valentine’s day together. (part of the soccer parents alternate universe)

warnings: alternate universe: no apocalypse, established relationship, domesticity, so much fluff. be prepared to call your dentist.

word count: 7.5k

author’s note: happy extremely late valentine’s day!!! i tried to incorporate a little bit of all the requests i got for this fic, so special thank you to everyone who helped make this fic happen!!

technically the timelines don’t really line up from this fic and the l word (many i love you’s are uttered) but you know what. it’s valentine’s day. valentine’s day magic ✨

“So, what’s your Valentine’s Day plan this year?” Sarah asked on her otherwise quiet commute to school.

Joel drew his attention away from the road to glance at his daughter and smiled to himself, just the slightest bit. He always found it oddly endearing to see just how invested his and your daughter were into your relationship. At this point, it was no secret that Sarah and Chloe had worked hard to set you and him up a multitude of times, and Joel certainly wasn’t mad about it. If anything, he was grateful for your kids being nosy and sharp enough to know when to make a move when you and himself clearly could not.

“Well I want our first one to be a good one, so I booked a reservation at this really nice restaurant. Pretty expensive, pretty hard to get into, but she deserves the best,” Joel said with a deceptively nonchalant tone.

Joel couldn’t even lie—he was proud of himself. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had spent Valentine’s day with anyone other than his daughter, and he’d booked the reservation the moment that it was available. The restaurant really was notorious for being hard to get into on a non-holiday, let alone Valentine’s Day, so he was sure you would appreciate the subtle-yet-grand gesture.

“Dad,” Sarah began, her tone slightly apprehensive as if she were preparing to break bad news to him. “I know this is your first Valentine’s Day in forever, but a restaurant is just… it isn’t enough anymore.”

“What?” Joel asked, slightly taken aback. Given that he hadn’t had a serious relationship in some time, and was more than slightly insecure about his ability to be as good of a partner as you expected, hearing his daughter explain that a fancy dinner wasn’t enough in the modern dating scene was jarring at the least, and terrifying at the most.

“Don’t worry. You’re lucky that your daughter is full of ideas. We’re gonna give your woman a perfect Valentine’s day.”

-

At your daughter’s request, you were painting Chloe’s nails to match the upcoming holiday to the absolute best of your ability. You tried your best, but your hand-eye coordination wasn’t amazing, so the best of your ability ended up being a set of pink nails with one red finger–but your daughter was enjoying the process regardless.

“So mom,” Chloe began, fanning one hand as she attempted to speed up the process of drying her nails. “What’re you getting Joel for Valentine’s day?”

“I was thinking of taking him on a date to his favorite cafe. Something a little more relaxed,” you lightly dabbed some acetone where you’d gotten some polish on her skin.

“That’s sweet but… are you sure Joel wants that? I mean, you two always go there. It’s not particularly romantic.”

It wasn’t exactly shocking that you weren’t great with big romantic gestures. Nathan had been morally opposed to them, or too lazy for them, or something that ensured no one ever did anything romantic for you, and in return, you very rarely did anything romantic for him. Given that the last time you spent a Valentine’s Day (or anniversary… really any day that called for romance) with someone was with him, you weren’t even really sure where to start.

“Oh,” you thought aloud, trying to process the idea that small gestures wouldn’t really do justice to portray just how much you loved and appreciated your partner. “I guess you’re right.”

“Let me help you,” she insisted, excitedly grabbing onto your arm as her eyes lit up.

Well, it wasn’t like Chloe wasn’t good at these things. If it wasn’t for her and Sarah’s intervention, you and Joel never would’ve been together in the first place. It certainly wouldn’t kill you to let her help you out in this field.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed, playing up your reluctance.

“Yay!” she cheered. “This is gonna be so fun.”

You certainly hoped it would be.

-

On the morning of Valentine’s day, you were somewhat surprised when your alarm went off and you found Joel’s side of the bed to be both empty and cold.

Considering that your plan was to wake up early to leave a gift in the kitchen before Joel had the chance to get there, your Valentine’s Day plans weren’t off to the best start. You immediately rolled out of bed and suppressed the groan you wanted to let out at the sweet smell wafting up from the kitchen—both from anticipation of something delicious waiting for you, and the knowledge that your plan had been foiled.

After doing some rummaging through his closet, you managed to find the box of the coffee machine that you’d hidden, and hesitantly began your trek downstairs, knowing that your big reveal would be slightly less ideal. When you arrived in the kitchen, Joel was standing at the stove and diligently working on something. He glanced back at you, and a smile instantly formed on his lips at the sight of you—bed hair, old pajamas, and all.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he greeted, setting his spatula down and coming over to give you a tight embrace. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you said right back, relaxing into his hug despite the large box in your hands slightly obstructing it. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s a surprise,” Joel stated plainly, stepping back to look at what you were holding. “What’s this?”

“Your gift. I know you love coffee more than you love any person who’s in this house right now, so it’s time for you to get rid of your archaic machine. This is a Nespresso. Very modern and very good, or so I’ve heard,” you extended your hands to offer the box, which he gladly accepted

Joel examined it, the smile on his face not even faltering for a moment. With all this smiling, you were sure his cheeks would hurt by the end of the day. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to use this,” he set down the box on the counter then gave you a peck. “Now, go back upstairs so I can finish working on your surprise.”

“Mm, sounds good,” you hummed, still fighting sleepiness as you retreated back up the stairs.

Well, your gift reveal may not have gone exactly the way you wanted it to, but you were pleased to see that Joel was still happy with what you gave him. Chloe would be proud.

“What is this?” Sarah asked, looking down at her plate of oddly shaped pink pancakes.

It was clear that this was what Joel had gotten up early to work on—Valentine’s Day themed pancakes. Although there was clearly an attempt at making what you could only assume were hearts, the pancakes came out as blobs more than anything else.

“…Hearts?” Joel suggested, sounding very unsure of his answer as he sipped his cup of coffee (made by his brand new machine).

“Dad…” Sarah trailed off, pushing around parts of her pancake.

“Are you gonna eat them or not?” Joel retorted, obviously a little less than enthusiastic about the reaction to the pancakes he’d gotten up early to work on, and worked quite hard on.

“I’m not gonna say no to breakfast.”

“I tried my best. It’s harder than it looks, okay?”

“They’re cute,” you interrupted. “It’s the thought that counts. I love them,” you hummed. The least you could do was support Joel in his romantic endeavors. Sure, the pancakes didn’t look amazing, but it really was a sweet gesture. And maybe they didn’t look the best, but they certainly tasted good.

Sarah didn’t exactly look like she believed you, and she glanced skeptically at Chloe, who was quietly giggling at the oddly shaped amoebas on her plate.

“I’m not an artist,” Joel explained, almost apologetically as your kids picked at their pancakes.

“We can tell,” Chloe murmured, earning herself a glare from you and a giggle from her friend.

“I never asked you to be one,” you assured. “It’s abstract. And it’s good enough for me.”

Joel quickly pecked your lips, eliciting a collective ‘ew!’ from the table.

“Alright, that’s enough from you two. Finish up quickly so we can get you to school on time,” you instructed.

The girls reluctantly agreed and finished up their abstract plates without much more protest or teasing before grabbing their last few items and heading off to the car.

“Did you actually like it? You can be honest with me,” Joel asked as you finished off your mug of coffee.

“I was being honest! I really did love it. It’s sweet that you put so much effort into doing something nice for me. Waking up all early, being in the kitchen all morning… I bet doing pancake art is pretty difficult.”

“It is, and you’d never guess that it is. The batter kinda just runs all over the place,” he explained, grabbing your empty dish and dropping it off at the sink. You got out of your seat and followed him over to where he stood, attempting to assure him that you really did enjoy the thoughtfulness of his gesture.

“Well, I love that you tried so hard to make something nice for me to wake up to,” you took a step closer to Joel, giving him a brief little peck to show your appreciation. “And I love you.” you leaned in for one slightly longer kiss and Joel’s hands softly cupped your cheeks as the kiss deepened.  

Joel finally pulled away, dropping his hands down from your cheeks to your hands so he could hold them. “As much as I’d like to kiss you all morning, we do have two kids waiting to be taken to school sitting in my backseat right now.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right,” you sighed. “Can we pick up where we left off when we get back?”

“Of course,” he agreed, beginning to lead you out the door.

-

Although your morning plans may have fallen through, your plan to pick up on your make-out session certainly did not, which was how you found yourselves waiting for the shower to warm up so you could hop in together and wash off the ever present scent of sweat and sex.

“It’s been too long since we last showered together,” you remarked, testing out the heat of the water with the palm of your hand before taking a step inside.

“It’s just that my shower is so small,” he explained, following you into the shower. “And we always end up thinking showering together is better than it actually is.”

“It is small, but I like being this close to you,” you countered, hugging him from behind. “We’re bonding. Don’t you like bonding with me?”

“I do, until one of us slips, and won’t stop talking about how they almost died for an entire day,” he set his hands on top of yours as you embraced him.

“That was once, Joel. One time!” you exclaimed, breaking away from your partner to reach for his shampoo.

“One time too many,” he responded.

Although ‘almost dying’ was a bit of an over-dramatization, it certainly wasn’t fun to fall in the shower. The day began as a slow Sunday morning at Joel’s place. Your daughter was at Nathan’s for the weekend, and Sarah had been at a sleepover with some friends. Given that the two of you had the house to yourselves, you certainly made the most of it before heading to the shower to clean yourselves up. Halfway through Joel assisting you in exfoliating your legs, you were met with the sound of a door opening and closing downstairs, making you practically leap out of your skin, and lose your balance, leading you to fall pretty hard. Joel helped you up and immediately began to take care of you, and granted you weren’t too badly injured, but you refused to let Joel forget the time you dramatically tripped in the shower because Sarah got home from her sleepover a little early.  

“I can’t believe you’re treating me like this on Valentine’s Day,” you sighed, pouring some shampoo and reaching into his hair to massage his scalp. “We should probably break up.”

“I agree,” Joel practically sighed, relaxed from the way your fingers were working in his hair. “I think it’s for the best.”

“Okay, I’ll let the girls know when we get out of the shower. The parents that they worked so hard to set up are never going to see or speak to each other ever again,” you said the words very seriously, but the way you were massaging Joel’s scalp told a completely different story.

“Sounds like a plan,” Joel purred, letting you work your magic as you played with his hair. “You’re too good at this. Why don’t I let you do my hair more often?”

“Psht, you're preaching to the choir here,” you reached forward to rinse off your hands. “For the record, this is one of your Valentine’s gifts. Savor it while you can. Especially before we finalize our breakup.”

“I’m savoring,” he insisted.

You two took your time in the shower, truly enjoying an endeavor you didn’t often do with each other. By the time you finally stepped out, the water had dropped several degrees, and you were both becoming human prunes.

Just moments after Joel wrapped his towel around his hips, he had disappeared back into his room, leaving you peeking past the bathroom door to see what he was up to. It certainly wasn’t unheard of for one of you to get ready without the other, but you preferred to have his presence with you in that humid little bathroom.

Joel came back just a few moments later, slightly more dressed, and now wielding a flat, red box.

“I got you something,” he announced as he joined you at the sink, bashfully looking down at the item in his hands.

“Oh?” you said curiously, glancing at the box as Joel slowly opened it, revealing a thin, silver necklace with what looked like a small diamond attached to it.  

“It’s a necklace,” he explained, beginning to lift the dainty accessory out of the box so that he could fully display it to you.

You were immediately taken aback by it, an involuntary, “It’s beautiful,” slipping from your lips.

“Can I put it on you?” Joel asked cautiously. You eagerly agreed, excited to have a little piece of Joel on you at all times. You turned around and lifted up the back of your hair so that he could gently wrap the necklace around your neck, and he fumbled a bit with the clasp until it was just right.

“I love it,” you expressed, observing it in the mirror and running a finger against the chain of the necklace as you fully took it in. “This is too nice.”

“Nothing is too nice for you, my love.”

“You are such a sap,” you laughed, leaning forward to get a good look at the accessory and fully admire its beauty.

“And you love that about me,” Joel punctuated his sentence with a kiss to your cheek, leading you to giggle like a schoolgirl.

“You’re right. I do. Thank you,” you said, still checking yourself out with your new piece of jewelry.

“Can I take you somewhere?” you asked, glancing over at your partner in the mirror as he reached for his toothbrush.

“Sure. Where?”

“It’s a surprise,” you said with a knowing smile.

“So, where are we going?” Joel asked as you drove, the sunglasses on your nose preventing him from getting a good read on you.

“What part of surprise do you not get?” you teased, glancing over at him with a smirk. “We’re almost there. Hold your horses.”

Eventually, you pulled up to a little strip of businesses, and grabbed Joel’s hand as you led him out of the car and through a door.

You two were instantly hit with the smell of fragranced oil and the sound of rain from a sound maker as you walked further into the dim location. It was clear to you that Joel was still more confused than anything else.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Joel asked you in a whisper.

“Yes Joel, we are,” you laughed softly at his apprehension. To be fair, he didn’t have an idea of where he was or what you were making him do, but that didn’t make his nerves any less entertaining.

“And where exactly is that?” he followed up.

“We’re getting massages! C’mon,” you beckoned him to follow you up to a desk, where a bored-looking receptionist checked you in.

The two of you sat next to each other in the waiting room, waiting for your masseuses to prepare your room.

“What made you pick this?” Joel asked curiously.

“I dunno, you’re always telling me how sore you are after work. I thought maybe this would help your pain a little. It’s also very relaxing. You’re gonna love it and have a great time.”

There really weren’t too many problems you found that a nice massage at this salon couldn’t fix. When you found the time in your busy schedule to treat yourself to something nice and do a little self care, a deep tissue massage was always one of the first things you decided on doing. It was only a matter of time before you brought Joel along with you, and when you casually mentioned something about Joel to your masseuse, she did mention wanting to see him. Although, Chloe was the one to put the puzzle pieces together to you and suggest the couples’ massage.

“So you’ve done this before?” Joel questioned, still looking somewhere between a little cynical and a little trepidatious.

“Mhm,” you hummed, already imagining yourself getting every kink and bump in your back teased out.

“Walk me through it,” he suggested, seeming a little more comforted knowing that you had actually done this before.

“Well, we go in, they leave, and we strip down to our comfort level, then they just give us a nice deep tissue massage. It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but it starts feeling pretty good pretty quickly.”

Joel’s expression circled back to slightly skeptical, his brow raised and eyes slightly squinted as he looked at you.

“Don’t make that face! You’re gonna love it. And I’m literally gonna be right next to you. When I called to book this, the receptionist said that the massage tables are so close together, we could hold hands the whole time if we wanted to.”

“Alright, fine. But if I hate it, I get to say that I told you so.”

“Okay, deal,” you agreed.

Your massage was going so well, you swore you were on a different planet. Sure, you didn’t have a very physically labor intensive job, but all the stress you'd accumulated over the last… however long always seemed to find itself stuck in your body. The massage was doing exactly what it needed to in terms of getting it out.

Joel groaned your name, his voice slightly distorted by his face being buried in the head pillow. “I take back everything I said.”

“I know,” you responded, far too gone to even really process what he was saying.

Walking out of that studio, you felt like a brand new person. Maybe that person was a little oily, but you felt like your body had gone under a complete transformation in just that hour.

“I can’t tell if I want to take a nap or run a marathon,” you exclaimed, stretching out your rejuvenated limbs.

“That was an amazing gift. Can we make this a V-Day tradition?” Joel asked, opening the car door for you.

“Hell yeah,” you agreed, getting into the passenger’s seat and breathing out a heavy sigh. “To think you thought you wouldn’t like it. Now I get to say I told you so.”

“Fair. I deserve it. That was life changing. I could marry you for thinking of that.”

Chloe actually thought of that, but Joel didn’t need to know that. For all you cared, he could keep thinking that you were the romantic genius.

“So what’s next on the agenda?”

“Just sit and wait. It’s a bit of a drive, so maybe you can get in that nap you wanted.”

You unsurprisingly slept like a rock after that massage. So much so, that you woke up to Joel softly saying your name and gently shaking your shoulder as he attempted to let you know that you’d arrived at your next destination.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with a an interesting looking building in front of you, one you’d seen in tourism handouts, but hadn’t yet visited for yourself—despite the many times you said you wanted to.

“Is this an art museum?” you asked aloud despite already knowing the answer.

Joel simply flashed you a toothy grin before popping out of the car, walking around it, and opening the door for you.

“I know you’ve been saying you want to come visit for a while,” he explained, slipping his hand into yours while you walked inside.

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised that you actually listen to me. Thank you,” you expressed.

You and Joel took your time walking around the museum, exploring the exhibits, reading the labels on pieces, and taking in all of the interesting and beautiful art. It was refreshing to come to a museum and not be rushed the whole time by an impatient daughter or disinterested spouse, and Joel expressing every now and then that despite being surrounded by so much beauty and artwork, you were the prettiest thing in the museum certainly enhanced your experience.

The two of you entered an exhibit that was obviously targeted towards children as you approached the end of the building, and your eyes immediately fell on a station that was clearly designed for kids to use. You walked towards it, and plopped down on one side of the tiny table before Joel sat down right across from you.

“Isn’t this for kids?” he asked you, his knees audibly creaking as he attempted to get comfortable on his tiny stool.

“Whatever. They’re all at school anyway. Or at least, they should be,” you grabbed a marker that was on your side of the divider, along with a piece of paper. “Wanna draw each other?”

“Haven’t we already established today that there’s not an artistic bone in my body?”

“C’mon, Joel,” you pleaded. “Please? As a Valentine’s Day gift?”

“Fine. Only because I love you. But you’re not allowed to laugh.”

“Swear,” you agreed despite knowing that it was more likely than not that you were going to laugh. While Joel reached for his own writing utensil and paper, you set your hand in front of the timer on the desk, giving you both five minutes to work on your portrait.

The man across from you focused deeply on his paper, looking pensively and seriously down at his paper and up at you every now and then rather than actually putting his marker to the paper.

After five minutes, the built-in alarm went off, and you both put your markers down, evaluating the work you had done.

“I don’t know if you want to see this. It’s really bad,” Joel confessed, awkwardly moving the paper out of your direct eyeline.

“It’s definitely not! Here, we’ll show each other at the same time. On the count of three?”

The two of you lifted your papers at the same time, and you involuntarily giggled when you looked at Joel’s. It was more or less an extremely basic stick figure with hearts around it. To be frank, your picture of Joel was basically the same.

“Hey, part of our agreement is that you wouldn’t laugh!” Joel said in between laughter of his own.

“Joel, you’re laughing too!” you giggled, the two of you progressively laughing harder until your stomachs were hurting. Eventually, you were able to catch your breath and collect yourself enough to get some actual words out. “Here, let’s swap. I wanna put this on my fridge.”

“Please don’t,” Joel gasped as he tried to catch his breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever live that down with our daughters.”

“Oh honey,” you responded, still fighting your fits of giggles. “That was the plan.”

-

After your museum date, you and Joel grabbed a quick lunch at a nearby cafe before heading back to the girls’ school to pick them up. You’d agreed to split up for the rest of the afternoon so that you had time to prepare for a nicer dinner in the evening.

It had been a long time since you’d dressed up like this. Although it was fun to get all dolled up, to put on a new matching set of lingerie under a new, formfitting dress, spend a good amount of time working on your makeup at your vanity, and take your time doing your hair, you couldn’t shake off the nervous feeling you were getting.

“Mom! Joel’s here!” Chloe yelled from your living room.

“You can let him in! I need to finish something up.”

You heard the familiar sound of conversation between Joel, Sarah, and Chloe while you finished up applying your lipstick, taking deep breaths as you did so. You just needed to see Joel, then you would feel better. To be quite honest, you were slightly intimidated by the restaurant he’d picked that night. Obviously you knew how exclusive and difficult to get in it was, but with how elite it was, part of you worried that you would stick out like a sore thumb.

But Joel had clearly worked so hard on making this night perfect for you, so you weren’t going to let a few nerves get you down. You grabbed your purse and headed downstairs, where your partner stood in your living room listening to your kids.

“Wow,” Joel said involuntarily when his eyes fell upon you. He immediately took a few steps towards you, setting a hand on your waist as he admired you.

“I don’t know why it always surprises me when I see how gross you guys are,” Chloe said, somewhere between a laugh and a cringe. “Okay, it’s time for you to get going. You don’t want to miss your reservation,” your daughter was practically pushing the two of you out the door, a little too enthusiastic to have the two of you gone. “Bye now!”

You finally were able to get a good look at Joel once you’d been shoved out of the door. He looked amazing in a well fitted suit, and a bouquet of red roses in hand.

“You look so handsome,” you gushed as you accepted his flowers. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing. I mean, you always look gorgeous, but you somehow found a way to look even more amazing.”

“Well thank you!” you giggled, letting Joel open the door to his car for you like the gentleman he was.

Joel sat down in the driver's seat, and began to head in the direction of the restaurant. Despite how late you were on the road, it seemed like traffic in the city was particularly bad. You and Joel kept up a light conversation, but the elephant in the room was clearly the traffic, and the fact that with every passing minute, the traffic only seemed to grow.

Your eyes flicked around in a cycle between the traffic ahead of you, your hot, but increasingly anxious date, and the clock on the dashboard. With just a few minutes until the time of your reservation, you finally piped up.

“Do you think we’re gonna make it on time?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” Joel answered quickly, his nerves quite obvious from the speed of his speech. He then followed it up with a slightly less agitated, “I hope so.”

“You know what? I’ll call and let them know we’re running late,” you suggested, reaching for your phone as if that would solve all issues.

That would make things better, right? You knew all that went into Joel getting this reservation, and you weren’t just gonna let it all slip away because of a little traffic.

You pressed your device to your ear and the phone rang once, then twice, then three times before you were informed by a robotic voice that the line was busy.

The scene of traffic didn’t seem to be getting any better either, with the cars in front of you essentially coming to a full stop every now and then. Time was quickly passing by, yet you weren’t making much progress distance-wise.  

You called again to no avail, and attempted to maintain your composure. They would pick up soon enough, and you would get to your reservation on time, and you and Joel would have a lovely evening at that very fancy, exclusive restaurant.

Finally, someone on the other line picked up. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you were finally able to connect with an actual person, and attempt to explain your situation to them.

“We are aware of the car accident and the traffic jam it caused. However, regardless of external circumstances, our grace periods only last ten minutes. Unfortunately we’ve already given away your table to someone else on the waitlist. Our deepest and sincerest apologies.”

You looked over at Joel helplessly, disappointed to deliver the news about something he’d been so excited for for so long.

“Okay, thank you,” you said, quickly hanging up. “I’m sorry,” was the first thing you said to Joel. “They gave our table away.”

“You’re joking,” he said almost flatly, clearly in disbelief that something he’d worked so hard to plan for had slipped through his fingers so easily, and over circumstances that were completely out of his control.

“I’m sorry. We were later than their grace period. But it’s okay! We can just go somewhere else. I’ve heard about a few good restaurants nearby?”

“It’s Valentine’s day. They’re all gonna be fully booked,” he sighed, defeat clear in his tone. “Should I just turn around?”

“No! Right now I’m hungry enough that I’d eat your shoe if you put it in front of me with some silverware. Just… take me anywhere. Maybe somewhere you like? Preferably without a long line?”

Joel fell silent as he thought for a moment, trying to come up with a location that he enjoyed that wouldn’t be particularly busy that evening. As he pondered, a light bulb seemed to go off in his mind, leading him to turn his vehicle around and begin to take you elsewhere.

Your heels clicked against the pavement as Joel took your hand and led you towards a food truck. The smoky aromas hitting your nose were nothing short of heavenly, and if Joel believed that it was good, you were definitely taking his word for it.

“Is that… Joel, is that you?” the man in the window asked in disbelief as the two of you approached.

“It is,” he confirmed, a bit shyly.

“Damn, man! I almost didn’t recognize you all dressed up! What’s the-“ his eyes fell upon you, and his face lit up as he put the pieces together. “Who’s this?”

Joel introduced you by name, and wrapped an arm around you subconsciously. “We’re just celebrating Valentine’s Day.”

“Well you picked the right spot. Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Louis.”

“Hi Louis. You know Joel?” you asked, curious about the camaraderie the pair seemed to have.

“I practically watched him grow up, so yeah, I guess so,” he flashed the two of you a smile, the look he gave Joel slightly more knowing than the soft one he offered you. “What’re we ordering tonight?”

Joel looked at you and shrugged, giving you the go-ahead for anything. It wasn’t like he wasn’t planning on spending a whole mortgage and kidney worth on food at the restaurant you had a reservation at.

You ordered a few different things from his menu, led more by your eyes and nose than your stomach. Louis nodded as you spoke before calling something out to the people working by the grill, and maintaining his position at the window so he could talk to you two.

“Why haven’t I met your friend before, Joel?” Louis asked, teasing in his voice.

“Well, obviously I was waiting for the most romantic day of the year to bring her here,” he looked away from his family friend and back to you. “You know, most people say that bringing your partner here is basically like having a ring in your hand and dropping to one knee.”

“Oh?” you laughed. “I’m flattered. Are you proposing to me?”

“No, not yet,” Joel shot a wink at you, and you felt a slight warmth rise to your cheeks. Of course, he was joking, but if he asked you in that moment to marry him, you’d probably say yes.

“Depending on how good this is, I may be proposing to you, Louis,” you teased, deflecting from the fantasy of marrying your partner.

“Hey! No need for that. Joel’ll bring you to one of my barbecues this summer. I promise you’ll eat so much of my food that you’ll never even want to even think about it again. Right, Joel?”

“Correct. Why do you think it’s been so long since I’ve visited you last?”

“Oh, excuses, excuses,” Louis dismissed, glancing back over his shoulder at the employee preparing your food. “Well lovebirds, since it’s Valentine’s Day, how’d you meet?” he questioned curiously, leaning further onto the ledge so he could get a good look at you and Joel.

“Our kids played soccer together on the same team, so we met through arguing like, all the time,” you laughed, glancing over at Joel who seemed just the slightest bit embarrassed at your frankness of your unconventional meet-cute.

“It sounds kinda bad when you put it like that. We were basically flirt-arguing,” Joel attempted to explain.

“Maybe you were. I was just arguing. But eventually our girls became friends, and we were forced to spend more time together, and I realized he’s not half bad,” you were downplaying just how much you adored the man standing next to you for a bit of comedic effect, but the quick look the two of you shared seemed to communicate everything it needed to for Louis.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Joel said, cracking an adoring half-smile at you.

“That is too damn sweet,” Louis expressed as he looked between the two of you. He had to do a bit of reading in between the lines, but it was clear to him that the two of you were a rather happy pair, as evidenced by your comfortable body language and the fond teasing. He was clearly quite pleased to see Joel as happy as he was with you. “As much as I’d like to chat and hear more, your order is unfortunately ready. We’ll catch up another time?”

Louis turned around to grab your boxes, and leaned back over the ledge to pass them to Joel.

“Of course. If I don’t get back around sometime soon, we’ll definitely be at one of your barbecues this summer.”

“Good,” Louis nodded. “And before you head back home, stop back over here. I’ll make Sarah her favorite, and something for your daughter too!” he offered you both.

Louis’ barbecue was no joke. You and Joel absolutely demolished everything that was ordered as you laid in the bed of his truck, sat on the blankets Joel had packed for a previous picnic and had never seemed to put back.

“Why hadn’t you brought me here sooner?” you asked, sauce on the edges of your lips. “I feel like a brand new person after this.”

Joel reached over, dabbing at your mouth with a napkin to clean up what you missed. “I told you, this is like serious engagement food. If I brought you here too early on, I might’ve scared you off by moving too fast,” he jokingly explained as he set down the napkin and dragged himself a little closer to you.

You playfully rolled your eyes at the explanation, but leaned onto Joel regardless. “Yeah, whatever,” you muttered, setting your head on his shoulder and looking up at the night sky.

“Do you remember that night when you helped me out with making the team dinner?” Joel seemingly asked out of the blue, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I do,” you nodded, glancing away from the sky and instead looking at Joel. “We’re a pretty great team.”

“We are,” Joel agreed, pausing for a moment. “Do you remember when I asked you out for the first time?”

“Of course I do.”

“I was so nervous. I really liked you a lot, but I wasn’t completely sure you’d say yes, and I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we’d been working on, or make things awkward for the girls. I just kept looking at the sky so I wouldn’t see you and think about all of those things,” he confessed, looking to the sky as he spoke.

“Are you nervous now?” you asked, noticing him watch the stars above you.

“No,” he assured you. “It’s just really beautiful out here tonight. Really clear.”

You leaned in closer, practically sitting on the lap of the man next to you at that point, “Do you see anything good up there?”

“Yeah,” Joel answered, his words blowing a few strands of hair as he spoke.

“Show me?” you asked, curiously peering up at the sky to attempt to see what Joel might’ve been seeing.

“Of course,” he agreed. “Well that right there is the big dipper. And the little dipper, too.”

“Where?” you asked, despite seeing it clearly. You had stargazed with Joel a handful of times, and he always did this cute thing when he saw something that you couldn’t see—grabbing your hand and leaning into you while he pointed out the stars with your own fingers, essentially cuddling you as he did so. His knowledge of what he was looking for, the competency in his actions, and the proximity he kept with you always drove you a little bit wild, and you’d be a fool to turn down an opportunity of getting that side of him out.

Joel took the bait, not even realizing that it was bait. He gently guided your arm to point out the constellation, speaking quietly next to your ear as he narrated what he was seeing. It was taking everything in you not to jump his bones then and there as he helped you see each set of stars.

After a period of pointing out constellations to each other, the two of you finally seemed to run out of observations to make, leaving you quietly sharing space on the blanket laid out in the bed of Joel’s truck.

“This has been my favorite Valentine’s day ever,” you expressed, gazing up at the stars with far less effort than you’d had previously. “I do love spending the day with you, but you really went out of your way to make today sweet. I appreciate it.”

“Hey, I can’t take all the credit. You are the one who arranged that absolutely life changing massage, and the Nespresso machine was great too. I will definitely be using it all the time now.”

“You know, it’s so weird. I used to hate Valentine’s day. Dread it every year because I just knew I’d be disappointed. But you changed that for me. Maybe it’s all the stuff we got to do, but I honestly think I’d be happy doing laundry or something with you today, as long as it meant I’d get to be with you.”

You were thoroughly exhausted after your day of Valentine’s activities, paired with the digestion you were going through after all of that dangerously delicious barbecue you and Joel had consumed. It was safe to say that the ride back to your place was a quiet one, only filled with the occasional uncomfortable grunt or a comment reminiscing on how good your dinner was.

By the time you opened your door, you were shocked to find your living room completely uprooted and transformed into a massive pillow fort. Your daughters, who conveniently were sitting inside of the fort, didn’t seem to notice you as you came in, as they were far too caught up in the Hallmark movie they were watching. Eventually, the sound of feet shuffling caught their attention, and the pair were out of the fort in record time.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” they both cheered, making jazz hands towards the fort.

“To commemorate your first date, we built you a new and improved pillow fort,” Sarah explained, as she continued to Vanna White their creation.

“This time, it’s big enough for all of us. You’ve had enough alone time today,” Chloe expressed. “Come, come! Are you ready for the tour?”

Your kids showed you the inside of the fort, and there honestly wasn’t much to see. However, it was still quite impressive that they’d managed to pull off putting together such a big fort in such a short period of time.  

“But before we lay down, go change into pajamas. No one should be in a pillow fort in a suit. That’s just ridiculous,” Sarah remarked

“You heard the girl, go!” Chloe emphasized, herding you two upstairs without even giving you time to voice any sort of protest.

“You really went all out this year,” Joel gushed as he followed you into your bedroom.

Hearing him say that did make you feel a little guilty. Sure he didn’t need to know that Chloe had done most of the heavy lifting when it came to celebrating this holiday, but it felt wrong to keep things from him—even something as small as not coming up with original ideas.

“Joel, I have to tell you something,” you began hesitantly as he unzipped your dress.

“Oh no. Are you breaking up with me? Are you pregnant?” he glanced at you over your shoulder.

“No! And no, that’s just my food baby. It’s just that… basically everything I did for you today, Chloe helped me come up with. I was gonna get you a box of chocolates, show you this number,” you gestured at the lingerie revealed by your fallen dress, “then call it a day.”

“You wanna know the truth?” he asked before reaching into your dresser and tossing you a set of pajamas. “I needed Sarah’s help for almost everything today, too. Obviously it was a great day, but… I don’t need fancy things from you or huge romantic gestures, despite what our children might think. Your love alone is plenty.”

“Promise?” you asked, pulling on your pajama shirt.

“Swear.”

“Can we shake on doing a massage and getting barbecue next Valentine’s Day, nothing more and nothing less?”

“That sounds perfect,” Joel agreed, shaking your hand to drive in the point of your agreement. “Now let’s go check out that pillow fort.”

Chloe and Sarah snuggled against you as a new, cheesy rom-com played out on the television in front of you.

“So, how was your V-Day?” Chloe asked, looking between you and Joel mischievously. Obviously, the kids were curious about the fruits of their labor, and you genuinely could not blame them. With all the effort they’d put into making your day great, they deserved to know just how pleasant it was.

“It was amazing,” you confirmed, squeezing your daughter’s shoulder.

“We couldn’t have done it without you two,” Joel added, tossing a not-so-subtle wink at Sarah.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Sarah asked with a slightly uncomfortable laugh.

“It means that you two are hopeless romantics, and without your guys’ help, we would’ve had a painfully boring Valentine’s Day,” you explained.

“Can you blame us for wanting to help you two old farts out? You haven’t celebrated this holiday in like 200 years,” Chloe retorted.

“Nothing wrong with that,” you affirmed. “You guys are good eggs. Is it too late to ask you both to be my Valentine?”

“Yes,” Chloe deadpanned.

“Nope,” Sarah said, popping her ‘p’. “But only if you get us heart-shaped boxes of chocolate.”

“I think that can be arranged. Right, Joel?” you asked.

“Fine. I’ll pick up some discounted chocolates after work tomorrow,” Joel said it begrudgingly, but deep down you knew that his softie heart was bursting with love for your family.

“Thank you. Happy Valentine’s day, my lovely loves,” you expressed, pulling the girls next to you closer to emphasize your point.

“Ew, mom,” Chloe squealed, only egging you on to pepper her cheeks in kisses.

This had by far been your favorite Valentine’s Day, and it really wasn’t even close. When you were surrounded by your favorite people in the world, doing something ridiculously thoughtful and sentimental, there was no way you could ever ask for more.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal x reader

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 18.3k ❧ warnings: cursing, renjun gets CONSENSUALLY dosed with a magical aphrodisiac For Science ❧ genre: fluff, humor, one (1) heavy makeout scene but no actual smut, 0.1 seconds of angst if you can even call it that, academic rivals to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, siren reader, human renjun ft. siren ten, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: in my lore, siren scales are visible when they’re in more human-like forms because of magic, and it’s not an indication of their skin tone at all. so when the reader’s scales are mentioned, please don’t take this as any sort of allusion to them being pale/light-skinned! i tried to take care and make sure i wasn’t implying that in how i wrote it, but please tell me if it reads like that this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: y’all. get ready for this one. no spoilers but renjun and reader r both crazy and nobody should be subjected to them except each other. like they both look at the other and think “i could fix them but whatever the fuck is wrong with them is infinitely funnier to me” but they’re both Wrong. they could not fix the other. i don't want what they have but good for them. anyway as always i had way too much fun writing this that it went over my projected word count and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it too

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“Would you shut up?” You sat back up, grabbing him by the hair.

“Why?”

“I’m trying to kiss you again, idiot.”

2608, 2610, 2612…

The numbers of the study rooms you passed by went up, up, up, as you continued your hunt. You knew he’d be here. It was the day before the first test in your Linguistics in Magical Creatures Studies class, meaning he was going to be holed up in the library until closing time. Now it was just a matter of finding him. Somewhere quiet, obviously, which was why you’d completely skipped the first floor with its wide-open “collaboration areas.” The second floor was all bookshelves and private study rooms that would hold four or five students at most. You peered into the narrow window on each painted metal door as you walked down the hall. While the first floor was recently renovated with new technology and upgrades such as the “collaboration areas” and bright pops of your university’s school colors that made for great promotional photos to put on the website and pamphlets to hand out to new students, this floor hadn’t had seen anything more than a janitor in a good couple decades. The musty, stale smell of old, unused books was all around you, the air conditioning hummed and clicked irregularly, all the furniture had ugly, outdated patterns, and the exactly three desktop computers they did have in a far back corner were practically as old as you. Which, in the digital age, meant that they were artifacts belonging in a museum.

And of course, sitting at very last one, as if he had been hiding behind all of these bookshelves from you personally, was Huang Renjun.

Renjun was sat in the wooden chair facing the computer, clearly deep in thought. He had one foot propped up on the wide chair seat as both of his hands were on the archaic-looking keyboard, speedily typing something out. He wore a pair of jeans, yellow hoodie, and a red backwards baseball cap kept his hair out of his face. An open energy drink can and empty bag of chips on the desk next to him belied that he had already been there for some time.

Now that you had found your target, you put on a burst of speed, stalking up to him from the side and smacking your hand down on the tabletop beside him. “Renjun.”

The human jumped in his seat, looking up from his screen to you. Taking his hands from the keyboard, he made a couple quick clicks on the mouse as he used the other to take his headphones out of his ears. “Y/N. Fucking hell… is your new strategy this semester to give me a heart attack and kill me?”

“If murder was on the table as part of our little academic rivalry, don’t you think I would’ve just drowned you after our Intro course freshman year?” You asked, tilting your head innocently. After all, you were a siren, that would be much easier than scaring him into an early cardiac episode.

Huang Renjun was not your friend. Not necessarily an acquaintance either, you’d known him for going on four years now, since your first class on your first day of college. The two of you were in the same Introduction to Magical Creatures Studies class. He had sat in the very front row, you just behind him in the second row. When your professor had asked an open question to the class, both you and Renjun eagerly blurted out the answer, Renjun just a millisecond before you. Dr. Li gave him the credit, and also requested that you two raise your hands in the future. And from then on you hated Huang Renjun.

Well, hate may be a strong word. You overlapped in at least two classes every semester being in the same major, and were both chronic overachievers. The first to raise your hands when a question was asked, studying in the library until closing (separately), and visiting professors’ office hours just to discuss topics from class further. Your professors noticed this. Some would pit the two of you against each other, and others would try to pair you up, whether on projects, research, or just in general, as a meeting of the minds or whatever. And you two would get your project done, pocket your As, and part ways again. Academic rival slash frenemy was the best way you could describe who Huang Renjun was to you.

“Who knows, you might still, if they ask me to carry the banner,” he muttered, picking his pen up and spinning it between his fingers.

This was your last semester, both you and Renjun were graduating in just a few months. At commencement, each department picked one “outstanding student” to lead the progression, carrying a flag with the department’s name and seal on it. This semester it was Magical Creatures Studies’ turn to select a student for the College of Humanities and Social Sciences, and your program head had already heavily implied that they could choose either you or Renjun, but they hadn’t made their final decision yet.

This was actually a pretty good segue into what you were really here to talk to him about. Pulling your lips into an alluring smirk, you nodded, “You’re right. It doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out that—”

“A fucking what?” He cut you off, his face scrunching up as he blinked at you in confusion.

“Obviously it’s going to be one of us two, since we’re the two best students in the program.”

“Well, yes.” He nodded, seeming to let go of what had presumably been another one of your jumbled human malaphors. You admittedly hadn’t been living among humans for terribly long, and for some reason their idioms just didn’t stick in your brain very well.

“I mean, we not only are dedicated to the field itself and the content we study in class, but the program too. We probably know everybody in it, professors and students, right? Between the two of us?”

Renjun considered this for a moment. “Yeah, probably. We’ve both taken on a lot of SI and tutor opportunities for lower-level classes.”

“Right. So, you know those forums the school has on the online class platform? The general message boards?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I’m going to need you to sit tight with me on this until I finish talking, okay?” You pointed at him sternly. He nodded slowly. “Good. Back in the fall, about the end of September, I was on the message boards, just browsing around killing time. I was in the Tips & Advice section and saw this post. It was a gryphon who was losing feathers on one specific spot on her wing, and she didn’t know why. The witch she went to didn’t know why, nobody could figure it out. I was about to reply asking if it was her left or right, when I saw that somebody else already had. It was her left, and she’s a lefty. The same person replied again, asking if she sleeps with her wings out or not. She sleeps with them out. It turns out she was stress-preening in her sleep. Username: dr_magic2303. A couple weeks later, same message board, Tips & Advice, a human is suddenly producing dark purple goop from his feet but it’s so slippery he can’t even leave to go see a doctor or a witch and he was typing the post from his bathroom. Within an hour, this Dr. Magic is back telling him someone’s put an aether ooze hex on him, and to sit down and scoot on his butt to the kitchen and gather up all these ingredients for a cleansing foot bath. And if he doesn’t have them, then he’ll have to butt-scoot his way to an apothecary or call one who does home deliveries. Now people are posting on there specifically asking Dr. Magic to come heal all their magical aches and pains.”

Renjun stared at you, unblinking. The pen had gone still in his hand.

You breathed in, continuing, “I tracked this Dr. Magic all the way back to their first post in the first week of fall semester of this year. Now, I’ve been trying to figure out who they are on my own, and I’ve made a lot of progress on who they aren’t. But I’m going to lose access to those message boards once we graduate at the end of the semester. I know Dr. Magic has to be an MCS major, there’s no way they would be able to have to breadth, depth, and flexibility of knowledge by just Googling this stuff. And you and me, Renjun, I know we can do this. Not only do we know MCS, but we know the department, the people in it. It has to be us.”

He was still staring at you, mouth slightly agape. Then, his whole demeanor shifted. He dropped his leg so that both his feet were on the ground, and he resumed spinning the pen.

“Okay. I’ll help you.” He nodded thoughtfully. “If you’ll do something for me.”

“Do what?” You straightened up.

“I’ll tell you after we find Dr. Magic.”

You crossed your arms. “No, tell me now or no deal.”

“I tell you after, but you can still say no then if you don’t want to do it.” He bargained.

“That just sounds even more concerning, Renjun. Tell me now or I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m hurt. What happened to ‘it has to be us?’”

“I’m a siren, I know how to sweet talk. Don’t take it personally.” You snorted. “Now, what do you want from me?”

“You’re a siren,” he echoed plainly, as if that were all the explanation you needed.

“And you’re a genius.” You retorted. “Tell me now or I walk out.”

“I... want to experience siren venom. For science.”

Oh, you could kiss him right now, no deal necessary. He was meeting your gaze head-on, a slightly unhinged glint in his eye. Not a hint of fear, just a craving for new experiences, unbridled curiosity. Yeah, he was a bit crazy, you were realizing four years on, and you wanted him.

“You’re insane.”

He leaned back in his seat, putting his hands up in front of him in an ‘I-don’t-care’ gesture, “If you don’t want to find Dr. Magic—”

“I didn’t say no, I said you’re insane,” you corrected him with a grin, dragging your eyes up and down his form as he sat so confidently, negotiating with a siren like it was any average Tuesday for him.

“So do we have a deal?” He set his pen down and held a hand out to you.

“You help me find Dr. Magic, then I’ll spit in your mouth.” You momentarily thought about the disparity in division of labor on that, but decided not to point it out aloud. Easiest handshake of your life. “Deal.”

You wanted to eat him alive.

“You’ve tried IP tracking?” Renjun asked, scrolling through your word document of notes that you’d accumulated on Dr. Magic.

“‘You’ve tried IP tracking?’” You mimicked him under your breath, making your voice so high-pitched to the point of mocking.

He rolled his eyes.

This was your first meet-up to try to hunt down Dr. Magic together. It was a couple weeks after he had agreed to help you in the first place. There was a test and some assignments in a few of your classes to get through first before either of you had enough spare time to dedicate to this. But now the two of you were back in the library, having taken a study room on the second floor and set up with your own laptops. You’d sent him your notes to look through on it while you perused the message board for any new posts from Dr. Magic.

“You do know that any geographical location an IP address can give you will just be the city, right? It’s not like the movies,” you snorted, dropping your voice back down to your normal intonation as you shook your head. “Anyway, I did do some extra legwork with the IPs, and matched most of them to desktop computers here in the library. I think the others are a personal device, their laptop or something.”

“They’re all different.”

You tutted at him, “Oh, you sweet Thursday’s child…”

“That’s not the say—”

“They’re all somehow on other continents. Now, I don’t think Dr. Magic teleporting abroad and cross-dimensionally to make forum posts.”

“VPN?”

“Definitely. They’re covering their tracks, they almost never use their own device, and when they have to, they use a VPN to cover up the IP address of it.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement, eyes still focused on his screen.

Then, something on the forum caught your eye. “Oh! Right here. Thirty-six minutes ago, a dryad posted that she can’t sprout daffodils from her body anymore. Every other plant and flower are fine, except daffodils. She posted it specifically asking Dr. Magic if they know what’s wrong with her.”

“Huh.” Renjun’s brow furrowed. “Just daffodils?”

“That’s what it says,” you confirmed, making a few clicks on your computer. “And… ‘notify me.’”

“You can turn on notifications for forum posts?”

“You can’t,” you informed him smugly. “But one of the sirens in my pod, he’s got a bunch of CompSci friends who I paid to write a browser extension for me that bookmarks forum posts and sends me email notifications when anybody replies to them. So I’ll know exactly when Dr. Magic responds.”

“You…”

“Have definitely spent too much time, energy, and money on this, I know. Sunken cost fallacy, look it up.”

“I was going to say ‘are insane,’” he breathed out, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.

When you looked up from your computer at him, you saw that he had a curious gaze fixated on you, eyes narrowed slightly, mouth parted, and head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

You leaned forward minutely, holding his eye contact. “Takes one to know one, Junnie.”

He looked down at his keyboard, shifting in his seat before he looked back up at you. “Why are you calling me that?”

“Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you do like it.” You smirked.

He frowned. “I didn’t say that either.”

“Well do you?”

“Answer my question.”

“Answer mine.”

“I asked first.”

“Ooh, how very primary school,” you teased, setting your chin in your hand.

“It’s only fair.” He pointed out.

“We could flip a coin.”

“Y/N.”

“Junnie.”

The human sighed, holding your eye contact wordlessly, looking entirely unamused.

You finally gave in with a casual shrug. “I just am.”

“Seriously? We’ve known each other for four years and you’ve never called me that—you’ve called me plenty of other things—but now suddenly you’ve got a nickname for me?”

“I’m not trying to be derogatory with it, if you’re worried about that,” you clarified. “Just sort of happened. I’m a siren, I flirt with cute people, sorry. Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing some off his face as he turned his focus back down to his screen. “It’s fine.”

“Anyway, I bookmarked the new forum post, so it’ll go on the board.”

“The board?”

“I, uh, I may be using a spare wall in my apartment to host a conspiracy theory board with you know, the red string and thumbtacks and stuff…” You admitted quietly.

“Can I see it?”

“Ho-ly shit,” Renjun breathed out, staring up at the multiple time-stamped printouts of forum posts, pictures of classmates and faculty, sticky notes, and yards of red string that you had pinned to a blank wall in your apartment.

You stood next to him, gazing up at your creation with a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment. This was the first time you’d let someone see this, and you were kind of glad it was Renjun. He actually seemed impressed. You were sure that any of your friends and family would be weirded out at best, and very concerned at worst.

“Yeah, I’m adding color copies off the school printers to the invoice I’m sending Dr. Magic at the end of all this.”

“You’re sending them an invoice for your self-assigned mission to hunt them down?” He snorted.

“Yup. It’s their fault for not using their school-issued login.” You crossed your arms. “Makes them enigmatic.”

Your classmate pointed to one of the headshots. “Is that Dr. Li?”

“Did you think our scope was narrowed to just students? Faculty have access to the message boards, too. And we’ve learned everything we know from our professors, so they obviously have the knowledge and skill to be Dr. Magic.”

“And their names also start with Doctor.” He added dryly, which you took to be a joke.

You decided that it wasn’t at your expense, though, and after giving a short chuckle, continued on with your explanation of why you specifically had your program head up on the board. “When I was grilling Dr. Li for information in the fall, he was giving me very duplicitous answers. Pointed me towards a freshman who I swear didn’t even know the difference between Arctic sirens and glacial sirens.”

“You think it was a diversion.”

“Obviously.”

Renjun tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What sort of questions were you asking him?”

“I couldn’t straight up ask him if he was Dr. Magic. So I was asking him things like... other than you and me, who did he think was the best student in the program, that kind of stuff. Said that kid reminded him of you and me on that first day of Intro to MCS.” You couldn’t help but let out an indignant scoff at the idea. “Can you believe? Didn’t know the difference between Arctic and glacial sirens…”

“Who was it?”

“Some basilisk in one of his Intro classes last semester. Uh…” You snapped your fingers as you tried to remember his name. “Seunghan! Hong Seunghan!”

“Seriously?” The human turned to look at you incredulously, clearly offended at the comparison as well.

“Seriously!”

He clutched at his chest like he was about to have a heart attack. “That’s who he thinks is the next us? I was an SI for that class…”

“I know! He’s not the brightest tool in the shed, huh?”

“So close, Y/N. So close…” He sighed.

“It almost completely threw me off my search for Dr. Magic. I figured I needed to seriously step up my game in his undergrad research or something.” You shook your head at the horrible memory. “Then I realized he might have been trying to get me to do exactly that.”

“Huh.” Renjun folded his arms over his chest as he looked away, pretending not to seem interested. “You did research with Dr. Li last semester?”

“Don’t give me those kicked puppy dog eyes, you’re doing research with Dr. Kwon this semester and she’s like, my academic idol!” You pointed at him accusatorily.

“And Dr. Li is mine!”

You waved your arms in front of you, shaking yourself out of the academic envy-induced frenzy you’d gotten worked up into. “We’re getting off-topic. We’re here to catch Dr. Magic, remember?”

“Right…” He took a deep breath, turning back to the conspiracy wall.

As Renjun studied your work, you studied him. You had a strand of fairy lights clipped up above the conspiracy wall for light and ambiance (mostly ambiance), and they now lit his features from the front. He didn’t have a baseball cap on today, leaving his brown hair to fall over his forehead, down past his eyebrows and just into his eyes. He blinked and shook his head slightly. A piece had presumably been bothering him. The curving slope of the bridge of his nose, his lips, his chin that he still had one hand propped up to hold, a finger tapping against his cupid’s bow like a metronome. You listened closer, curious if it would be mimicking the beat of his heart. The tapping was just slightly slower than his heart, and would stop if he found something that he took particular interest in, then start back up when he moved on again.

Not that you were going to tell him, but you were double motivated to find Dr. Magic now. Seeing Renjun under your venom was going to be a reward all on its own. You understood full well why he felt like he needed to ask you as part of an exchange like this, but he seemed to greatly underestimate his own selling value. Which was good for you. This was a win-win-win in your eyes.

Thinking of the deal made you curious, though. He had that request ready to go almost like…

“So, do you want to be petrified by a basilisk, too?”

Renjun didn’t take his eyes off the wall. “Already have been.”

“Really?”

“My friend Mark is a basilisk. When he had just gotten his powers a couple years ago and couldn’t control them, he kept accidentally petrifying his human roommate. So I figured out when it was most likely to happen, invited myself over and hid his sunglasses. It was strange, being able to think but not speak, see but not blink, and telling my muscles to move and not having them obey.” He casually detailed what sounded like one of the most horrifying experiences ever to you, leaning in towards a specific post from November. “But it only lasted one minute and twenty-nine seconds.”

You stared at him with both admiration and alarm. “You manufactured an opportunity to get petrified.”

“I knew he wouldn’t do it if I asked. He’s a wimp. That, and he couldn’t do it on command at the time, even if he did agree.”

“Have you had your blood drank?”

“Yup.”

“Been flying?”

“How so?” His eyes flicked over to you for a second, and you were glad that you had relaxed again with the more casual conversation.

“With a gryphon, phoenix, take your pick.” You shrugged.

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you have a list for this stuff or something?”

“Written down, no. But I suppose I have a mental list.”

“Poisoned by a wyvern?”

“Would have to find one first.”

You felt your eyes bug out of your head. “You want to be poisoned by a wyvern? You know there’s no cure for that, right?”

“Yes, I took the same class that you did on them last spring.” He reminded you tersely. Your head jerked back minutely, surprised for a second that he had noticed, remembered, and brought it up. The two of you didn’t have a spat in that class, taking an ‘ignore and pretend the other doesn’t exist’ approach that semester when you could, and hadn’t mentioned it since. Seeming to realize what he’d done, Renjun rushed to move on, “So I also know that there’s no cure because they went extinct hundreds of years ago.”

“Supposedly.”

“You think they’re still out there?”

“Maybe.”

“Hm.” He stepped to the side to read over the next post from the first week of December.

You scoffed. “Okay, coming from the guy who believes in aliens.”

“We haven’t explored all of space. But we know what habitats wyverns lived in, and they’re not there anymore.”

“They could’ve adapted, gone somewhere else,” you tried to argue. “I’m not exactly splashing around the ocean right now, am I?”

“Where did they go, then?”

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted, holding yourself by your arms protectively.

“Hmph.”

You tightened your grip, swallowing hard against the lump threatening to grow in your throat. “I just don’t want to believe they’re gone, okay?”

“So this isn’t a scientific hypothesis, but some rosy daydream?” Renjun’s disapproval of the lack of academic rigor in your argument was clear in his tone as his eyes never left your wall, following a red string up to your next connection for Dr. Magic.

“I don’t want to believe that wyverns went extinct because that means that sirens could too! Alright?” You finally snapped, hands squeezing tightly around your biceps as your claws came out with the raw burst of emotion. “I know that Magical Conservation was just some class to you, but I had to sit there and take notes on how exactly the native habitats of sirens—me, my friends, my family—are shrinking, and could theoretically lead to our extinction, and then write a discussion post on it after like it was some intellectually stimulating bit of information. So yeah, maybe I like to imagine that there’s still wyverns out there somewhere, because it gives me a modicum of hope that after everything, there could still be sirens, too. Sorry that that’s not academic enough.”

The image of Renjun that you had been yelling at in front of you was wavering as tears swam in your vision. He’d turned around to listen, mouth parting as he seemed to immediately realize his mistake. The human nodded regretfully, running a hand through his hair before finally picking his words.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to be so dismissive. I-I misread the tone of the discussion. Sirens aren’t wyverns, and you won’t meet the same fate they might have. Siren advocacy and conservation groups are making huge progress. The world now is a lot different than it was hundreds of years ago,” Renjun said, and you could hear both the remorse and firm belief in his tone. “And who knows, maybe there are still some wyverns out there. I could be wrong... it’s been known to happen before.”

You took a deep breath, your claws receding back into your fingers and just leaving your normal fingernails. As you looked down at your arms, though, you let out a sigh.

“Damn, I got myself.” You clicked your tongue in your throat regretfully, spotting a few drops of what looked like molten silver metal welling to the surface where you’d punctured your skin.

“Ooh,” Renjun winced sympathetically. “Do you have some… bandages?”

“Even better, I’ve got running water.” You started towards the door, then noted that there were no footsteps behind you. Turning back around, you looked at the human knowingly. “Do you want to watch, Renjun?”

He perked up. “Please?”

“Come on,” you jerked your head, holding your arms level as you shuffled towards your kitchen.

Thankfully, you hadn’t been nearly deep enough to get your scales, just the skin overtop. Turning the kitchen faucet on, you grabbed one of your sleeves, then looked at your classmate imploringly.

“A little help, Junnie?” You nodded towards your other arm, where the end of your sleeve was getting close to your blood.

“Oh, sure.” He surged forward to help you roll up the other one.

“I know you know this but be careful not to touch my blood,” you reminded him, finally pulling up the sleeve you’d started on well enough. Siren blood was a neurotoxin to humans—and not the fun kind like your venom, but a proper ‘kill you in an excruciatingly painful way’ kind.

“Uh-huh, got it.”

A couple drops on your left and a drop on your right had run down to your elbows, and you just managed to catch yourself so that they dripped into the sink and not onto your counter (or gods forbid, Renjun). Looking over to make sure he was watching, you stuck your left bicep under the stream of water first. The ocean blue scales that peeked through your skin shimmered in the kitchen lights directly above your head. Thankfully you hadn’t come anywhere close to nicking one of those. That would’ve actually hurt. Within a second of touching the water your skin had meshed itself back together. You turned your arm to rinse off the blood, then brought it back out to show that there was no scar left. Doing the same with the other, it healed just as quick, no mark left behind to indicate that anything had ever happened.

“Yep…” Renjun breathed out as you grabbed a hand towel and went to dry off your arms. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

“How many does that make?” You giggled.

“What?”

“How many creatures have you seen magically heal themselves? What number am I?”

“You make me sound so…”

“Like a common MCS whore?”

“I was going to say clinical, but damn, tell me how you really feel, Y/N.”

Both of you laughed, and you put the hand towel back.

“You’re the first siren,” Renjun answered your question genuinely anyway.

You hummed as you mulled this over. “I’ll take it.”

He made a dramatic motion of wiping sweat off his forehead, and you reached forward to smack his forearm. You two laughed again.

After a bout of comfortable silence, your eyes settled on him again, still thinking about exactly how you’d accidentally stabbed yourself in the first place.

“I forgive you, by the way,” you said. “I don’t think I said that.”

“You didn’t.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

“You really mean all that? You think I’ll—we’ll be okay? Sirens?”

“Of course I mean it. Or I wouldn’t have said it. It’s the most scientifically plausible. I did take that Magical Conservation class seriously, you know. I know it couldn’t have meant the same thing for me as it means to you, but I did my final paper on siren conservation projects in the Arctic. The progress that’s being made there is incredible. I-I don’t want to tell you about your own species’ problems, obviously, but—”

“I did mine on siren conservation in the tropics.” You let out a dry chuckle at the flawless symbiosis. “You can tell me about your paper sometime, Renjun.”

“And I’d love to hear about siren conservation in the tropics.”

“Ah, ‘a meeting of the minds.’” You did your best impression of Dr. Li, thinning your voice out to sound like an elderly man, which garnered a smile from Renjun. “Isn’t this what our professors always wanted?”

“Uh-oh. We’re giving them exactly what they want.” He shook his head ruefully. “Quick, you need to start yelling at me about something.”

“Well you need to say something obnoxious first.”

Another gentle lull in the conversation, and you watched as Renjun looked around your apartment a lot more carefully than when you two had first entered. Your destination then had been solely the conspiracy wall, but now he seemed to be really taking it in.

“So why don’t you have like… a fish tank or something?” He asked.

“Because that would be cruel! Imagine if someone kept you in a 2-foot by 2-foot box!” You jabbed a finger into his chest accusatorily.

He held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. That was a stupid question.”

“I’m glad you said it, because I was about to.”

“So why don’t you reply? To the posts.” Renjun asked curiously, back to trolling the message boards for new Dr. Magic posts. You two were holed up in your second floor study room again. “You’ve been tracking Dr. Magic so closely, you’re getting to these posts before they do, and you can help all these students, too. So why don’t you just reply instead?”

Yours and Renjun’s search for Dr. Magic had been going on for a month now, and he’d been proving himself useful. He’d finally convinced you to rule out Dr. Li as a suspect when he found a message board post made from a school computer while Dr. Li was away at a conference giving a presentation. Confirmed to be done at the exact same time. So you’d found another wrong person, but you still didn’t feel any closer to the right person. The remaining people felt like they were going to turn out to be dead ends, and there was nobody good to rule in either.

Spring break was coming up in a few weeks, which meant that commencement preparations would be starting, which meant that the colleges would be announcing who would be chosen to carry their banners, which meant the actual students who were going to be chosen would be told at least a week or two ahead of time. Every time you thought about that you wanted to bite something. Maybe there was some ancestral link between sirens and werewolves. Another paper waiting to be written.

“They don’t want me. They want Dr. Magic.” You told Renjun, hating the irritable edge in your voice when you addressed him. You weren’t upset with him, you were just anxious in general. He didn’t deserve to have you take it out on him.

“Right. Sorry…”

“No, Renjun, I’m sorry,” you sighed, taking the wood pencil out of your mouth that you had been gnawing on. “I just want to get this Dr. Magic stuff over with before midterms because you and I are both going to get super busy studying for midterms, and then no matter which one of us gets picked to carry the banner, that’s going to suck up a lot of time preparing for commencement too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you though, sorry.”

He offered you a small smile. “It’s okay, I get it. It’s another deadline. But it’s a group project, remember? We’ve got this, Y/N.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. Just feeling the pressure. I’m going to get something from the vending machine. You coming?”

“No, I’ll keep chugging along.”

“Okay. You want anything?”

“Nah. Thanks, though.”

“Alright,” you nodded, standing up and rolling your neck out. “I’m going to stretch my legs while I’m up, so I’ll be a few.”

“I won’t sound the alarm then.” He gave you a two-fingered salute as you headed to the door.

You meandered around the second floor, taking your sweet time to get to the stairs. There was a vending machine on the second floor, but it had a limited selection. The good snacks were all in the vending machines on the first floor, by the collaboration zones. Your back cracked all on its own as you plodded down the steps, and you let quiet groans with each one, until you finally landed on the first floor. There was a noticeable hum to the first floor, which only increased as you neared the two-thirds of the floor that was taken up by the collaboration zones. The vending machines were on the boundary of the bookshelves and the open spaces filled with tables and TV monitors and so many students.

Stopping in front of the drinks machine first, you mused over the options for a moment. Picking out your preferred seaweed-infused iced tea—an option you only saw sirens and the really hardcore human health-nuts drink—you then sidestepped to the snacks. It took you just a second to select a pack of mini peanut butter sandwich cookies. Neither peanut butter nor peanuts themselves were in the regular diet of a siren, but Renjun sometimes had the cookies on him for one of his werewolf friends and you’d picked up a taste for them. You would’ve never considered even trying them before hanging out with Renjun. Being an MCS major, you didn’t like to admit it, but your social circle wasn’t very diverse species-wise. You had your siren pod, and you were very happy sticking with them, thank you. Renjun, meanwhile, seemed to be best friends or friendly acquaintances with everything except a wyvern. You knew plenty about other species, after all, you excelled in class. But practical experience, you were finding you seemed to be lacking in. Maybe you should start your own Renjun-esque bucket list. Something to consider after finding Dr. Magic.

Taking a step back over to the drinks machine, you made the split-second decision to get Renjun’s favorite non-caffeinated, non-alcoholic drink. Honeydew melon soda. He had already said that you didn’t need to get him anything, but you wanted to.

“Hey, Y/N!” A cheerful voice greeted you, and you spun around, your two drinks and bag of sandwich cookies in hand.

You already knew who it was going to be, smiling at the familiar face of Ten. He was not only another siren, but specifically a siren from your pod, ocean blue scales and golden eyes matching your own. You threw your arms around his neck to give him a hug. “Ten! Ah, hey!”

“Are those… peanut butter?” He looked at the snack in your hand suspiciously.

“Uh, human study buddy,” you brushed off his concerns nonchalantly.

“Right, gotcha.”

The two of you usually hung out a lot—about as much as you and Renjun were together now, you figured—but since your spare time had been taken up with putting the search for Dr. Magic on full throttle, you were blanking on the last time you’d seen him. The beginning of the semester. Oh shit, you felt so guilty now.

The apology immediately started spilling out of your mouth, “Gods, I am so sorry we haven’t hung out, I wish I could say it was classes, or even research or something, but I’ve got this project. I can’t even really explain it without sounding crazy but—”

“Woah, Y/N, it’s okay,” Ten reassured you with a laugh, the same bright smile on his face as always. “I know how you get when you get really into one of your projects. Just let me know when you’ve finished it, and we can hang. Or if you ever need a break from it, too. It’s fine. If you weren’t a little crazy and obsessive, I wouldn’t be able to recognize you.”

He ruffled your hair with a snicker for good measure, and with your hands full of food, you couldn’t fight back, just huff and try to duck out of the way. But he was genuine about his sentiments, which really did make you feel better.

“Thanks, Ten. I’ll get in touch soon, I promise. I think I’m almost done!” You told him proudly.

“Soon in normal person time or soon in Y/N time?”

“Me time…”

“That’s what I thought. I’ll see you in six months then.”

“I’m not that bad!”

“Remember when I wondered aloud if sirens at the North and South poles were related, and you ended up spending our entire winter break researching that?”

“It only took four weeks!”

“You said it would be a quick search.”

“Exactly! People will dedicate their entire lives to that kind of research! I vastly condensed it!”

He shook his head fondly at the memory, elbowing you gently. “Get back to your project so you can finish early again and we can hang out soon, okay? And scoot, I’m trying to use the vending machine. You’re always in my way, I swear.”

You playfully pretended to block him, laughing as he nudged you out of the way with his shoulder. Starting back off towards the stairs, you turned around to give a cheery, “See you, Ten!”

“Bye, Y/N!” He waved to you with one hand, punching in the vending machine code with the other.

In better spirits having seen your friend, you traipsed up the stairs with extra pep in your step. Except Renjun wasn’t in your study room. Huh. Well, nothing in the rules saying a guy can’t take a bathroom break.

Setting his melon soda down next to his laptop, you plopped back down in your chair and kicked your feet up on the table. You ripped open your peanut butter sandwich cookies and cracked open your tea. The cookies were sweet, and while you didn’t have any oceanic reference for what peanut butter tasted like (you were told that “nutty” was a flavor profile unto itself, which wasn’t very helpful), you had decided that you liked it.

Waking your laptop back up, you saw that you had a new email, and shot up in your seat when you saw the subject.

dr_magic2303 replied to a post.

8 minutes ago.

Holy fucking shit, 8 minutes ago. While you were in the library? They could still be there. You looked around frantically. Where the fuck was Renjun when you needed him? Shooting to your feet, you snatched your phone from the table and rushed to throw the door open. Into Renjun’s face.

He stumbled back, holding his face as he let out a string of curses.

“Shit! Sorry, Junnie!” You didn’t sound all too sorry as you bounced on your feet, antsy to get a move on with your search. “No time for an ice pack though. Dr. Magic just replied to that dragon post we had bookmarked eight minutes ago. Which means that they’re probably still in the library! We need to go look for them right now!”

You took off in the direction of the desktop computers on this floor, keeping your voice at a fervent whisper-yell. The second floor computers were their favorite, according to the IPs.

“I know!” Renjun hurried after you, still clutching his nose. “I saw the email, and I tried to call you, but you left your phone in the study room.”

Checking your phone, you did in fact have a missed call from Renjun from 6 minutes ago. Well shit.

“So I went to go get you, but you weren’t at the vending machines, so I came back up to the study room and then nearly got my nose broken.”

You looked over your shoulder at him with wide eyes. “You went to get me? Not look for Dr. Magic on the freshest lead we’ve ever had? When they were quite possibly around the corner?”

The two of you had arrived at the desktops, and there was nobody in sight. One was awake, on the account login screen, the other two asleep on the ancient screensavers. You let out a heavy sigh, looking over at Renjun.

“I went to get you because this is your thing, not mine. I don’t know, I’d figured you’d want the satisfaction of taking the mask off them.”

You nodded. “Thanks, Junnie. Next time, though, just get them.”

“And how about you keep your phone on you?”

“So we both fucked it up.”

He gave you a one-shouldered shrug. “There’s still three more floors, Y/N.”

“Right, come on. You take the first, I’ll go up to the fourth since I smacked you with the door.”

The other floors were busts, and when you finally met back up with Renjun in your study room, you were glad to have your cold bottle of tea waiting for you. Knocking back a third of it in one go, you let out a noise of relief. Renjun had already opened the soda you’d gotten him.

“Thanks, by the way.” He held it up gratefully before taking a sip.

“You’re welcome.”

“And, I’m sorry. That I let Dr. Magic get away.”

“We don’t even know what floor they were posting from yet. They’ve could’ve been on the fourth floor and would’ve been gone by the time you got there anyway.” You brushed away his apologies. “Or they could’ve been on the second and been a psycho and you would’ve been a poor defenseless human all by yourself.”

“Oh, right, without my big strong siren to protect me.” He scoffed. “Woe is me.”

“Exactly,” you laughed, shutting your laptop. “Anyway, I’ll take a look at the IP later. Who knows, they might not have even been in the library. Might’ve been one of those rogue VPN posts.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He looked over you packing up your things. “You heading out?”

You nodded, zipping up your bag and tossing it onto your shoulder. “Prior arrangements. Sorry to cut this short, completely forgot about it when we agreed to meet up.”

“You’re so popular.”

“I know!” You mimicked his sarcastic tone, holding the door open with your foot as you stopped in the threshold. “Oh, hey— the midterm in MCS Linguistics. It’s my only one this semester, I’ve just got papers in all my other classes. Do you want to study together for that?”

“Yeah, sure, sure.”

“First session Saturday? My place for lunch?”

Renjun grimaced, presumably remembering your typical stock of pantry items tailored to a siren’s food preference. “I’ll pack a lunch.”

“Cool. See you in class, Junnie!” You waved to him cheerily as you took off for the faculty advisor meeting with Dr. Kwon that you were going to need to run across campus to be on time for.

“What is it?” Renjun set his book down where he was sat across your coffee table from you, an inquisitive eyebrow quirked up at you.

“What? Nothing.” You bit down on your lip, eyes boring holes into your computer screen.

“No, it’s not ‘nothing.’ You’ve been staring at me ever since I got here, while also refusing to make eye contact with me. What? Something in my teeth? My hair look bad?”

Normally that would’ve made you chuckle—he was wearing a backwards baseball cap again today—but you just bit down harder on your lip and shook your head.

“Now you’re refusing to talk?” He scoffed. “Did you get hexed or something? I can’t believe you’re refusing to talk.”

“No, I can talk,” you insisted. “What uh, what’d you get for number four? On the review packet?”

“Don’t tell me you’re still stuck on number four. Y/N, I’m almost done, and there’s twenty-five questions on this.”

“I’m not, I finished and went back, it was just one that I didn’t—”

But Renjun had grabbed your computer and turned the screen around, and you knew he could see that you had only done the first one. You buried your face in your hands, your skin prickling uncomfortably with shame. Your friend’s sigh was audible, but surprisingly, the next thing said wasn’t a string of derision. Instead, you heard the shuffle of clothes against your rug, and then he was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and knee-to-knee with you.

“Y/N, what’s going on with you today? Or, not today, the past couple days? You weren’t all there in class yesterday either. I left it alone then because it was Dr. Hyun, and nobody is ever all there for her classes but— what’s wrong?”

You slowly shook your head.

“You can’t tell me?”

You nodded.

“Okay. Is it bad? Like, dangerous?”

You shook your head.

“Alright, that’s good.” The relief was audible in his voice. “Is it family? Or, pod?”

You shook your head.

“School?”

You nodded.

“Alright, yeah. A lot going on. Is it like burn out?”

You shook your head.

“So, new stuff?”

You nodded.

He put an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you already had a lot. Getting this midterm over with will be one more thing off your checklist, right? That’ll open a spot for this new thing.”

With a sniffle, you nodded.

“Ah, but you’re not going to be any good studying like this.” He sighed again, dropping his arm from around your shoulders and his presence shifted away from your side. “Come on, quick field trip. Then we’ll come right back to the MCS Linguistics grind. Sound good?”

You finally took your hands from your face to look up. Renjun was standing right next to you, offering you a hand. You tentatively put yours in his, and he tightened his grip to pull you up to your feet.

The two of you ended up in a froyo shop down the street from your apartment. You gleefully picked a gummy shark off the top of your swirl, biting the head off first before tossing the rest in your mouth. Renjun lifted a meticulously curated spoonful of froyo and toppings to his mouth, satisfaction on his face as he tasted his perfect bite. You watched in amusement as he went to start creating his next scoop that had the precise ratio of yogurt and every single topping he had chosen—each partitioned to their own area atop the froyo. You decided to save your second big gummy shark for last, and took a big spoonful from the melting edge of your froyo.

“Why not me?” Renjun asked abruptly, his gaze still on the dessert in front of him.

“Huh?” Your jaw dropped. How could he have known what—

“You haven’t asked me if I’m Dr. Magic. Why not?”

Ah, Dr. Magic. Of course.

“You were my first guess, and the first person I ruled out back in like September,” you admitted with a shrug.

His head snapped up at that. “What? Why?”

“Because you’re such an arrogant, neurotic overachiever that you’d want credit if you did all this. You wouldn’t use an alias.”

“Oh. Huh.” Renjun looked between you and his froyo, a sheepish smile coming to his face. “Strangely, that makes me feel better.”

You watched a dollop of froyo fall off your spoon and plop back into your cup. “And I nabbed your IP address off your laptop the first time we hung out in January and double-checked it with every Dr. Magic post. Just in case.”

“When I was in the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Of course you did.”

“Were you taking it as an insult to your intelligence that I had apparently not considered you as an option?”

“Maybe…”

You laughed, and laughed, and laughed. You laughed so hard your sides hurt, there were tears in your eyes, and you genuinely started wheezing. Renjun pretended to roll his eyes, but you saw the smile on his face and knew what he was thinking: success, no more mopey siren.

Once you had enough air back in your lungs to talk, you pointed your spoon at him firmly. “See? Just proving my point. You want people to know you’re smart.”

He crossed his arms. “As if you don’t.”

“Oh, I definitely do. But I know I’m like that.” You put a hand over your chest, looking him dead in the eye. “Do you?”

With your head screwed back on the normal amount, you and Renjun were able to dive back into your study session at your apartment. Several hours into it, though, you noticed Renjun blinking like way too much and constantly rubbing at his eyes. It was to the point where it was distracting for you.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” You asked bluntly.

That immediately burst the Renjun griping dam (which was really held together with tape and prayers anyway). “The screens hurt my eyes and human blue light glasses don’t do shit and no fairy has let me try theirs out. I know I should probably just take the plunge and buy them but I really can’t justify the price and—”

“Try mine.” You stood up, walking over to a display shelf on the other side of the living room.

“You have a pair? Why? Sirens don’t—”

“You collect magical experiences. I collect magical things.” You said nonchalantly, grabbing the pair of silver frames from where they sat between a phoenix feather (a gift) and a small wristwatch that would tell the correct time until it was put on, then it would be set on the time and date most significant to the wearer in that moment until it was removed. Walking back over to him, you held them out to him insistently, “Here, try them.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Renjun gingerly took them, sliding the arms over his ears and the frames onto the bridge of his nose. The pair you had was a little older, admittedly. You’d picked them up at a novelty shop, so they had some retro charm to them. An older style of frame, thicker lenses. But you thought it added a quaintness to their look. Especially on Renjun, he just looked downright adorable in them.

You sat back down to watch with your head in your hand as his brown eyes blinked from behind the thick lenses, and he looked around your living room like a newborn woodland animal. His face had already relaxed, and he turned his focus down to his laptop screen next, messing with the brightness up, then down. After that, he took out his phone, doing the same with that device.

“Well?” You prompted him, though you truly would’ve been content with watching him look around as if he’d been born colorblind and it were his first time seeing in color. Which, you had an enchanted pair for that too, but he wasn’t colorblind to your knowledge.

The human looked at you, a giddy smile stretching across his face. “They’re perfect! Thanks, Y/N!”

His hand reached up to take them off, but you stopped him.

“Keep them—”

“No, these had to be so expensive!” He protested immediately.

“Just for a week or so,” you finished your sentence pointedly. He was cute, but not that cute. “Make sure you really like them before you buy, okay? If you end up hating them, give them back. If you like them and buy your own pair, you can give them back whenever yours arrive in the mail.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not like I’m using them. Superior siren eyesight.” You tapped next to one of your eyes for emphasis.

“Thanks for not rubbing it in or anything.”

Scrambling to dial Renjun’s number, you put your phone on speaker as you fervently flicked through all of your Dr. Magic notes. You’d been laying in bed binging some mindless baking competition to numb your brain from all the studying you’d been doing when an email notification had popped up alerting you to a new Dr. Magic post.

“Y/N?” Renjun answered the phone, sounding utterly confused. “What’s—”

“New Dr. Magic post. I ran the IP and they’re in our city!” You blurted out.

“Okay… Well we already knew that, right?”

“Yeah, but this is an IP in our city that they posted from at midnight on a Saturday. Not any of the school computers.” You hit CTRL + F, typing in the string of numbers to quickly cross reference it with your extensive list. “This could be their IP. Like, their actual one, from a personal computer.”

“Oh, yeah. Could be.”

“Can you give me a little more enthusiasm here, Junnie? Did I wake you up or something? It’s only—” You stopped like you’d just walked face-first into a brick wall, eyes locked on the search result.

“Yeah, only quarter after midnight,” he scoffed.

You clicked the next arrow on the search bar, but that was the only match. 1/1 results.

“Y/N?” Renjun called for your attention. “You there?”

You hung up.

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you pressed the doorbell over and over insistently. You could hear the complaining tone of the occupant before his words were even audible.

“Christ, I have neighbors, you know?” Renjun swung open the door with a scowl. The human was in a big, slouching hoodie and pajama pants. His hair was stuck up in a couple different directions, making you think he might’ve just woken up. Except behind him, you could see that his kitchen light was on, and a couple books and his laptop were open on his kitchen table. Late night studying. And the fact that you’d just talked to him on the phone fifteen minutes ago.

“Can I come in?” You requested, fidgeting with the sleeve of your cardigan.

His face immediately softened. “Yeah, of course.”

“Sorry to just show up like this,” you said as you took off your shoes by the front door before following him further into his apartment.

“It’s okay.” He stopped you two in the kitchen, picking up a colorful, patterned cardboard box. “Uh, I was just about to make a midnight snack. Pizza bites, you want some?”

“I… don’t think I’ve ever had them.”

“Perfect, you can try one now then.”

“Mm,” you made a non-committal noise, leaning against his kitchen counter to watch him pour out the frozen food onto a baking sheet.

The oven beeped, and he put the tray in before pressing a couple more buttons.

“So, I was thinking about the Dr. Magic stuff. Not the IP stuff but like… What even is your plan for when you do find Dr. Magic?” Renjun asked as he put the remaining pizza bites in his freezer.

“What do you mean?”

He leaned against the countertop across from you, though in the narrow space of his kitchen, you were practically knee-to-knee. “Like, say we finally find out who they are, we run up to them in the library or on campus or something. Then what? What are you going to do? What are you going to say? You’ve done all this, and I know why you had to. I get it. But, do you know what you’re going to say to them?”

“Probably something along the lines of…” You trailed off, giving an exasperated sigh. Dropping your chin to your chest, you groaned, “Gods, I don’t know.”

“Hey, that’s why you got me. So you can bounce ideas off someone, do a dry run.”

“I thought the words would just come to me, and now that I’m trying, I can’t—”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let’s think about why you did this. I know it’s really hard to put into words. I mean, I know why you did. I get it. It’s that need to know. Not because you can, but because you have to, right? It’s curiosity in its rawest form. So obviously it’s not going to be some schmaltzy ‘haha I caught you’ spiel or anything.”

Looking up from the kitchen tile to Renjun’s eager features, you shook your head in disbelief. “You’re still helping me… when I know it’s you, Junnie.”

He tilted his head to the side, a comical noise of confusion coming from his mouth, “Uh?”

“I know it’s you, and you know that I know that it’s you.”

“You already ruled me out, because I’m an arrogant—”

“Junnie, you made a post on the forums from your laptop. No VPN. When you knew I was still tracking Dr. Magic’s IP on every post they made, and that I had your IP. That’s not a whoopsie that you make unless you want to be caught.”

The human crossed his arms over his chest, but otherwise seemed entirely calm about being caught. “And you didn’t come in here guns blazing now that you’d caught me, either. Why?”

“I didn’t know how to say it. I mean, you’re right, I only did all this because I needed to know.”

“And now you know.”

“Why now? Why just give up now?” You asked with a shake of your head. “You started posting as Dr. Magic back in August, and I came to you in January. You knew everything I was doing; you could have cruised through the rest of the semester and I’d have never caught you.”

“You wanted to find out who it was by midterms. One less thing on your plate.”

“And now I know…”

“So how does it feel? Finally catching Dr. Magic?”

You wrinkled your nose and sighed, “Bit disappointing. I was right on my first guess.”

“And you immediately dismissed me out of hand for being an arrogant, neurotic overachiever on your first guess,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I didn’t really know you then. If I’d known you then like I know you now, I would’ve known as soon as I saw the first post.”

Renjun batted his eyes teasingly. “Aww, Y/N…”

“Doctor underscore magic two, three, zero, three? Twenty-three, oh-three? That’s your birthday, Junnie,” you deadpanned.

“Right.”

Pushing off the counter to stand up straight again, you said, “Anyway, you did help me find Dr. Magic. So, my turn.”

“Oh, no, you seriously don’t have to do that. I rigged the deal—”

“Yeah, about that.” You took a step forward. “How did you think that was going to end up for you, anyway? Were you going to sell somebody else out as Dr. Magic and hope I wasn’t going to talk to them? Spit in your mouth first and ask questions later?”

“I was thinking on my feet.”

“Maybe think laying down next time, Junnie.”

“Ouch.”

“Anyway, come on, you’ll want to sit down for this.” You grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the living room.

“You don’t need to feel like you have to do this,” he reassured you.

Stopping the two of you in front of the couch, you turned to face him with a smirk. “Believe me when I say that it is going to be a treat unto itself for me to see you under the effects of siren venom. M’kay?”

Renjun’s surprise was evident on his face. “Oh.”

You stepped closer to him, delicately placing a hand on his chest. “Now unless you want me to literally spit in your mouth, I’m going to have to kiss you, to administer the venom.”

His eyes flicked between the hand you had on his chest and your face as he replied. “I’m okay with that—the kissing—if you are.”

“Renjun, I’ve been ready to eat you alive since you said the words ‘I want to experience siren venom for science’ to me.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. So why don’t you sit?” You guided him with the hand against his chest to sit back against his couch. Swinging one leg over his hips, then the other, you lowered yourself onto his lap. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, tentatively settling his hands on your thighs. “Is this okay?”

“More than.” You smiled, looping your arms around his neck. “Now, a couple things, before we get started.”

“We haven’t started?”

“You’ll know it when we do.”

“Right.”

“I know you think you know what siren venom is like, but whatever scientific articles you’ve read, or documentaries you’ve watched, or slides you’ve studied under microscopes in lab, cannot actually prepare you for what it’s like. Which, I imagine is why you want to experience it for yourself.” You smirked down at him as you watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down with a gulp. “So before I actually dose you up with it, I need you to tell me what you’re actually okay with doing and what you’re not. Because once you get my venom in you, you’re going to want to let me do anything and everything to you, up to and including kill you, remember?”

“Well that’s off the table.”

“Good to know,” you snorted, running a fingernail down the nape of his neck. You felt a shudder go through him. “Is this okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” He seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open. You halted your motions to let him think, and watched in amusement as he blinked his mind clear.

Once enough time had passed, you prompted him, “So?”

“I think just kissing,” Renjun answered. “Like, making out, or whatever. If you want…”

You snickered. “What part of ‘eat you alive’ was I unclear about?”

“The ‘eat’ part, actually. How literal is that?”

“Guess you’ll find out,” you teased. Then, you focused again as you sat back a little. “Okay, making out. Making out means different things to different people. So… we know kissing’s on the table. Tongue?”

“Yeah.”

“Teeth?”

“Where?”

“Waist up. You got somewhere you don’t want them?”

He took a moment to think about this. Then shook his head. “No. You can use them. Anywhere.”

“Same goes for you. Hickies?”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Both. You first.”

“Both are okay. You?”

You were already zeroing in on his neck and a small part of his collarbone peeking out from under his hoodie. “Same. Touching over clothes?”

“Okay, as long as you don’t think it’ll be too much with the venom…”

“Oh, Junnie, everything is going to be too much.” You grinned down at him.

His breathing had picked up pace as the two of you were talking. “You? The touching?”

“Good. Great. Touching under clothes?”

Renjun squirmed underneath you, but maintained your eye contact. “Just under my shirt.”

“Smart boy,” you said approvingly. “Me too.”

“Is that it?” He asked quietly, eyes now flicking down to your lips.

“I think so…” You looked around the room to buy a couple extra seconds of thinking time. When you hadn’t come up with anything else, you looked down at the human below you once more. “Ready, Renjun?”

“Yes.”

You took one final look over him like this, how much he already wanted you before he’d even gotten any of your venom in him, and dragged the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip instinctually. His heartrate jumped, and you wondered if it was fear—if the motion had reminded him perhaps of a hungry predator—or need. Or maybe a bit of both.

But you couldn’t tease him nor yourself any longer, swooping down to connect your mouths. You started off with just a couple light, closed-mouth kisses, to ease him into it. You heard him inhale quickly through his nose, his grip on your thighs tightening minutely. Swiping your tongue across the seal of his lips, you were delighted when he immediately parted his mouth in response, his tongue seeking yours out. You hummed contentedly into his mouth as you started stroking a fingernail down the back of his neck again. At the same time, your venom was beginning to mix in with your saliva, being passed onto Renjun.

Once his jaw started going slack in the kiss, and his hands slowly slid off your legs entirely to rest lamely at his side, you deemed him plenty dosed up. Consciously, you blocked off your venom glands once more. When one particularly drawn-out scratch down the back of his neck finally elicited a noise from him, an involuntary whine, you felt something in you snap. You needed more of that.

“So this is what siren venom feels like…” He mumbled breathily, letting his head loll back against the couch cushion as you kissed a path down his jawline and neck. When you felt his breath hitch in his throat over one particular spot, you decided to take your time there, sucking and nipping a mark into his skin.

When humans were… locked in a lover’s embrace, they let off a certain perfume distinguishable only to sirens—which was what made them the favored prey of sirens for so long. A human under the influence of siren venom? Delectable. And every human’s was unique too, so Renjun under the influence of your venom? Absolutely addictive.

With each kiss you stole from his lips, every nip you left on his neck that you then soothed over with your tongue, you got another taste of it. A sweetness that came with a bite, like ginger candy.

Renjun was still talking, though, his vocal cords vibrating under your lips. “My-My heart’s beating so fast, and I’m so warm—that’s so the ocean water doesn’t feel cold, of course—”

“Would you shut up?” You sat back up, grabbing him by the hair.

“Why?”

“I’m trying to kiss you again, idiot.”

“Oh. Right.” He closed his mouth, looking up at you with glassy eyes, waiting. Gods, he was so pretty like this.

You crashed your lips back on his, a mess of teeth and lips and tongue as he tried to keep up with you. But you knew that your venom was in full effect now, every single one of his nerve endings was approximately three and half times more sensitive. So you were sure it was all a little overwhelming. But he was definitely trying his best, kissing sloppily into your mouth with hungry, desperate whines.

Pulling him back off with your grip in his hair, you traced a thumb over his kiss-swollen bottom lip, cooing over how fucked-out he looked like this. “Oh, baby. Oh, poor Junnie. What’s wrong? Can’t even kiss me properly because it feels too good? Baby’s overwhelmed with just a little bit of kissing?”

He opened his mouth wider, darting the tip of his tongue out to brush against the pad of your thumb. You pushed the finger in his mouth, groaning as he immediately closed his lips around it. “Gods, you’re perfect, Junnie.”

Taking your thumb back out of his mouth just to grab his chin with the same wet digit, you attacked his lips with yours again. Ginger candy. His hands that had been lamely resting at his sides the entire time now fumbled at something in the area where your hips met.

“What? What are you trying to do, baby?” You asked, leaning back to look down. He was grabbing at the hem of his hoodie, unsuccessfully yanking it up towards his head as part of it was stuck under one of your thighs.

“‘m too hot. Please…” He panted, dropping it as he looked up at you pleadingly.

You nodded slowly in understanding, knowing that one of the effects of the siren venom was an increase in body temperature, not to mention what you two were just doing. The collar of another shirt was visible underneath the sweatshirt. “Okay, Junnie, we can take your hoodie off. But only the hoodie. Your other clothes are staying on, understood?”

He nodded quickly, hips bucking up against you. Sweat was beading up on his forehead, his hair getting stuck to the damp skin. You shifted back on his lap so that none of the sweatshirt was under you anymore, grabbing the hem and reaching behind him to yank up from underneath him as well.

“Sit forward for me, baby?” You requested in his ear sweetly.

Renjun obliged as best he could, leaning forward to get his back and shoulders off the couch. You pulled the hoodie up over his head, tossing it off to the side, leaving him in a black t-shirt that certainly couldn’t be helping much either. But having that heavy layer off seemed to provide some relief for him, as he let out a sigh, falling back against the furniture again.

You giggled as you settled back into the crux of his lap again, lacing your fingers together behind his neck. “Is that better now, Junnie?”

He shook his head, and you arched an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh? What’s wrong, then?”

Renjun tugged gently at your cardigan where it had shrugged down to show one of your shoulders. “Please?”

Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you thought this over. You had a tank top on under the cardigan, and both of you were still wearing everything else. Not to mention that you were starting to get a bit warm too. Sirens ran naturally cooler than humans, so you were sure that to him, you felt practically refreshing right now, but you honestly were a bit hot for a siren’s tastes.

Giving a contemplative hum first, you finally relented, “Alright, Junnie. But just my sweater. Everything else stays on, because we didn’t talk about that before the venom, do you understand?”

He rushed to strip you of the knit cardigan, his mouth following his hands’ path down your skin. First on your shoulder, then down your arm. You let the garment drop on the floor behind you as he kissed back up along your shoulder, then over the fabric of your tank top until he got to your collarbone, and finally the hollow of your throat. Fondly stroking the back of his head, the pleased purr that had started in your chest turned into a surprised moan when he licked a long stripe up your throat.

Holding his face in your hands so that your noses brushed, and your lips barely ghosted over each other, you let your breaths mingle in the meager space afforded. Renjun ended your little anticipation game quickly, kissing you tongue-first, and you kissed him back just as eagerly, sucking on his tongue with lewd, wet noises. He moaned into your mouth, his hands grabbing at your waist for purchase first, then slipping and curling into the material of your shirt, bunching it in his fists.

Slowing the pace of your kisses, you eventually sat back, appraising the state he was in. You affectionately ran a hand through his hair as you took in his blown pupils, kiss-swollen lips, and pink cheeks. “Junnie? How are you feeling? Need a break?”

You hadn’t given him another dose of venom since the initial one, which wasn’t very large to begin with. But this was his first time experiencing it, so you wanted to check in. He should be just past the peak of it by now, starting to come down but for all intents and purposes still very much intoxicated. Siren venom wasn’t meant to last very long, after all, it took an adult human less than a minute to drown.

“Need you…” He insisted, arching up towards you.

Indulging him in one, two more feverish kisses, you pulled away once again. “I know, baby. And you’ve been doing so good for me. So I need you to tell me if you need a break. Okay?”

“’kay.” He agreed before you sealed your mouth over his again.

Kissing down from his mouth to just under his jaw, at the same time you trailed a finger down the center of his front until it got to the hem of his t-shirt.

He nodded fervently before you could say or do anything more. “Please… please…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” you quieted him down gently. “Doing so good for me, Junnie. The best.”

You slipped your hands under his shirt, just to stroke his waist. His muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out a sound of satisfaction. He grabbed at your thighs again, but you couldn’t tell if it was an attempt at reciprocity or to have something sturdier to ground himself to than your flimsy tank top. The corner of your lips quirked up as you pressed a couple more kisses down his neck to hover your lips over his pulse point, content to start a new mark there as your hands continued to explore under his shirt. It was when you gently raked your nails down over his pecs that you got the loudest moan out of him yet, and you groaned in response.

“Gods, you’re perfect,” you nuzzled your nose into Renjun’s neck, then pressed a couple relatively chaste pecks to his cheek. “Just perfect…”

Taking your hands back out from his shirt, you silenced his whine at the loss of contact by slotting your lips together once more. You cupped his face with one hand, using the other to take one of his hands off your leg and lace them together, palm to palm. This seemed to make him content once more, especially when you brought your connected hands up to the back of the couch, pinning his behind his head. He squirmed under you, letting out a familiar noise of pleasure into your mouth and squeezing your hand tightly.

You knew the venom was well and truly starting to wear off when Renjun began keeping pace with your slow, lazy kisses, his mouth not as sloppy but no less delightful as it moved in tandem with yours. The thumb of the remaining hand on your thigh started to stroke over your skin, and the hand that you were holding gave yours a gentle squeeze. You gave him one, two last lingering kisses, drinking in the dwindling taste of ginger candy while you could, Renjun matching you beat for beat.

Unlacing your fingers and dropping your hand from his face, you drew back from him. Before you could say anything, though, Renjun grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you in for one more kiss, sinking his teeth into your already tender, over-kissed bottom lip. You gasped into his mouth, which gave him the perfect opportunity to intertwine his tongue with yours again on his apparent mission to try to kiss the breath from you. A nigh impossible task for a human to do to a siren, but it definitely felt like he was succeeding. He was crushing his lips against yours so hard you were worried about him drawing blood—not because you would mind the pain, but for fear of his safety if he got a direct hit of your blood in his mouth.

In the back of your mind, you were desperately trying to remember if you had maybe accidentally opened your venom glands a second time later on, but just drew a blank. That wasn’t something you did unaware, it wasn’t automatic, it had to be done on purpose. Then, for a brief moment, you were worried about secondary wave syndrome—some humans break down siren venom in two phases instead of one, and the second one almost always kills them if they’re not brought to a human medical doctor for treatment—and you started running through the symptoms as well as the nearest human emergency rooms in your mind. Burst capillaries in the eyes, refusal of food and water, the hospital three blocks over should have an ER, right? But the kiss didn’t feel like when he’d been intoxicated on your venom before, this one felt deliberate, in control. He was in control. You let out a small moan at the thought, and Renjun’s lone hand on your thigh tightened in response.

Once he finally let you go, you both sat there in silence for a good few seconds, you still on his lap. You stared extra hard at the whites of his eyes. They looked normal. He seemed… normal.

It was rare for either of you to be speechless, much less the both of you.

“Well…” you broke the silence. “That was siren venom. You should drink some water. Stay right here, I’ll get it.”

You climbed off of him, heading into his kitchen. Looking at the oven, you were wondering how the timer hadn’t gone off in that entire time when you saw that it wasn’t on. The words ‘TIMER SET?’ were flashing on the screen at you, and the preheat hadn’t been started either. The pizza rolls had just been slowly defrosting on a pan in the cold oven. You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching into his fridge for his Brita filter then securing a couple cups from the cabinets.

Walking back into the living room, you handed the human his cup of water and remained standing as you took a sip of yours.

“You didn’t start the oven, for your pizza rolls,” you informed him quietly.

“Wh— oh, shit,” Renjun groaned, tipping his head back. “I guess I don’t get to give you your first pizza roll tonight.”

“That’s okay.” You dropped onto the couch next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“So… that was siren venom,” he breathed out, then took a long gulp of his water. Definitely not second wave syndrome.

“That was siren venom,” you confirmed with a laugh, fondly brushing a piece of sweaty hair off his forehead.

“You were right… I was not prepared,” he admitted with a laugh, taking another drink.

“So do you think you would’ve let me kill you?”

“Yeah. I would’ve given you my credit card info, bank password, spilled all of my friends’ worst secrets, let you kill me, killed someone else if you asked me. God, that was…” He said with wide eyes, shaking his head. But there was a familiar glint in his eye as a smile cracked across his face, “Incredible.”

“Glad you think so,” you giggled, patting his chest. “Now don’t become a venom junkie, okay? I couldn’t live with myself if you did and it was my fault.”

“I won’t. Not really what I meant anyway.”

You grinned slyly at what he seemed to be implying, that it might not have just been the siren venom, but that it was you and your venom that made it so incredible. Like how every human had a slightly different essence, every siren had a unique chemical signature in their venom. It’s why using it non-consensually nowadays would be extremely stupid (as well as just an immoral thing to do and also a crime)—it can be matched to the siren in a lab like DNA. In addition, anecdotally, every siren’s venom was said to produce a slightly different high, but no mass studies had backed that up. You were inclined to believe the stories, though.

Renjun was still a bit hazy, though, still riding the high of the venom, so you decided to tuck a conversation like that away for another time.

“So why did you pick Magical Creatures Studies? Other than you’re insane?” You redirected the topic to a more neutral one.

Renjun didn’t seem put off at all about this jump. “When I was a kid, my family traveled around a bunch, for my dad’s job. I got to meet a lot of different kinds of beings, some of them became my best friends, and I never wanted to stop learning about it all.”

“What does your dad do?”

“Government job,” he answered, suddenly interested in picking at his nails.

You furrowed your brow thoughtfully. “Wait a minute… Huang Renjun. As in, your father is Ambassador Huang? That we’ve had to write papers on in class?”

Ambassador Huang was the first human ambassador sent on diplomacy trips to outside nations of magical creatures post-integration. His trips had largely been considered a monumental success, and credited as a big driver behind the huge uptick of immigration that your city has been seeing from outlying areas in the past couple decades. You’d hardly gotten through a single contemporary MCS class without directly learning about him or at least hearing his name. And you’d apparently been going to school with his son for four years and just pumped said son full of your venom and made out with him while he was high on your venom.

“Yeah…”

“Dude! What the hell? You didn’t think to mention that at some point?” You asked incredulously.

“And sound like some uppity nepo kid bragging about my dad? No thanks,” Renjun snorted.

“Yeah, maybe not like day one but like… I don’t know, before I used my venom on you!” You nudged his arm teasingly.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just venom-ed Ambassador Huang’s son!”

“Oh my God, could you not call me that?” He snapped at you. “This is why I don’t tell people! Because now I don’t have a name anymore, I’m just Ambassador Huang’s son.”

You immediately realized your mistake, your stomach dropping as you heard the hurt in his words. “Renjun, I’m—”

“Just go.” He demanded, standing up from the couch and putting distance between you two again. “We both got what we wanted, right? You found out who Dr. Magic was, and I experienced siren venom. That’s all this was, so you can go. You don’t owe me anything else.”

You clenched your jaw, setting your cup on the end table beside the couch. Picking up your cardigan from the floor with as much dignity as you could, you pulled it back on. Neither of you said another word as he watched you stalk over to the front door, shove your shoes back on, throw the door open, and slam it closed behind you.

Drumming your fingertips along your keyboard, you squinted at the flashcards on your screen. You were in a sour mood, which had persisted ever since you’d left Renjun’s last night feeling used.

Ten was next to you at your picnic table outside the student union, finishing up a pencil portrait sketch of one of his other friends—one of the CompSci majors you’d paid to write your browser extension, actually. Dejun, a dragon, whose slit pupils, many bejeweled earrings, and a singular fang poking out from under his top lip featured prominently in the portrait. The sketch was part of Ten’s midterm portfolio check-in for one of his classes. Midterms were literally this week. Like, right now. You forced your sharp teeth further into the wooden pencil in your mouth.

“You’re going to ruin your cuspids like that, Y/N,” Ten chastised you calmly, rubbing at a line with the pad of his ring finger to smudge it before flipping his own non-mangled pencil around and continuing to sketch with the graphite.

“I’ll grow another set,” you grumbled, but took the writing utensil out of your mouth nevertheless.

“And have no teeth in the meantime. Real sexy siren stuff. Sure to lure all the hotties to their deaths looking like GamGam missing her dentures.”

“Shut up!” You shoved his head away, earning a loud peal of laughter from your friend. “As if you’ve been pulling anybody yourself. You’re literally a siren art major covered in tattoos that he designed himself, more piercings than a dragon, including nipple rings, and you haven’t been on a date in… what, almost a year?”

“So we’re both disappointments to the good siren name, huh?” He held up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Just a couple of poor, celibate sirens doomed to be disgraces to their species forever…”

“Can you not yell that to the entire courtyard, dude?”

“What? Not announce very loudly that you haven’t been with anybody in exactly four—”

You lunged to cover his mouth before he could publicize precisely how long it’s been since you’d hooked up with someone. Ten immediately broke down into laughs behind your hand that was covering his mouth, his shoulders shaking even as you smacked him on the back of the head with your other hand.

“Gods, what is wrong with you?” You hissed at him. “You’re a menace to society. And me.”

When you’d finally let go of his face, he said through a couple more chuckles, “Hey, you could easily do it back to me.”

“Why would I want to do that? And the fact that you’re suggesting it makes me think that you want me to do that, which makes me want to do it even less. You freak.”

Before your podmate could respond, you caught sight of a figure approaching your table head-on. Setting your jaw, your body immediately tensed. There was no mistake, Huang Renjun was walking straight towards you. Ten seemed to have noticed the shift in your body language and mood, as he didn’t say anything further, quietly going back to his sketchbook as you watched Renjun get nearer and nearer.

“Y/N,” he said your name quietly, stopping not quite at the end of the table beside you, but next to the end of the bench across from you.

“What do you want from me now, Renjun?” You replied bitterly, pretending to return your hands to your keyboard as if you were going to refocus on your studies.

“Uhm, to talk, I guess?”

Ten interjected, “Do you guys need a second? I can go—”

You held him in place with a hand around his wrist, your voice curt, “No, Ten. Stay. This will be short.”

Your friend lowered himself back down into his seat.

You then set your hard gaze on Renjun. The marks you had left on his neck were still visible above the collar of his t-shirt. Moving your eyes from that to his face, you cocked your head to the side. “What’s in it for me? You established that our relationship is purely transactional, remember? We apparently just use each other. You scratch my back, I spit in your mouth, quid pro quo.”

“Okay, I’m going now,” Ten declared, wrenching his arm from your grasp to grab his sketchbook, pencils, and backpack before taking off.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I don’t see you like that at all, I just... I got defensive and snapped. It’s not an excuse, but still, I want you to know that I don’t mean anything I said. I’m sorry.” Renjun shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but you could see the genuine remorse on his features.

You breathed in, then out.

“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, letting your voice relax back to the natural softness that it held around Renjun. “You’re your own person, aside from just ‘Ambassador Huang’s son.’ I’m sorry for treating you like anything other than Renjun.”

“It’s not that I’m not super proud to be his son or anything, I think he’s really awesome. He was my hero growing up; still is. I mean, I’m going into the same field as him. Kind of. You know? It’s just because we’re going to be doing the same kind of thing, I want to be able to be looked at for what I do. Good or bad.”

“Bad? You plan on using your degree for evil, Renjun?” You teased, scooting over on the bench seat to take Ten’s previous spot and freeing up a place for Renjun to scoot in beside you.

“I could,” he played along, gladly taking the seat offered.

The two of you made eye contact, then burst into laughter at the same time.

“What?” He questioned in mock offense. “I think I’d make a great evil dictator, personally. You don’t think so?”

“Not at all, you’d be great at it.”

“Thank you. My friends don’t take my threats so seriously.”

“Which will ultimately be their downfall.”

Renjun looked back out at the campus in front of you two, his voice turning serious again, “But, seriously, I mean, I don’t want people having all these lofty expectations for me and then be disappointed when I don’t change the whole world, nor do I want them making things easy for me because they know my dad.”

“That’s fair. Unattainable, but fair to wish for,” you nodded in understanding.

“Ugh...” He slumped forward, dropping his head into his arms atop the table.

“Look, Renjun…” You rested one hand on his arm as the other rubbed up and down his back supportively. “You can’t change who your dad is, and you said it yourself, it’s not like you’re ashamed of him either. So don’t brag, and don’t be a dick when somebody brings him up either. Just do your best to show people who Huang Renjun is. And if they still don’t get it, that’s their loss. Because I already know him, and I think he’s pretty cool.”

Renjun sat back up to look you in the face with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “You’re such a cheeseball. Aren’t sirens supposed to be alluring and enchanting?”

“Shut up! I will drown you! See how alluring I am when you’re under a siren call,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m kidding.” He grinned at you, nudging your shoulder with his. “That really did make me feel better, thank you, Y/N.”

You smiled back. “You’re welcome, Renjun.”

The two of you kept smiling at each other for a moment before he broke the eye contact, looking down at his hands then shifting his gaze back to the courtyard.

“Uhm, while we’re airing stuff out about last night...” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Yeah, Junnie?” You tilted your head to the side, watching as his cheeks started flushing.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you. I kind of popped off on you right after... everything. But thank you, for taking care of me before, during, and after. It didn’t even occur to me to talk about what we could and couldn’t do beforehand. Thank you for that, and for getting me the water. And... all of it in between...” His ears were bright red too at this point, but he managed to look you in the eye as he gave you his genuine gratitude.

You nodded in understanding. “You’re welcome. I’m glad that you felt cared for during all of it. In addition to, you know, everything else you felt.”

“Mm, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Studying his face curiously, you said, “You look like you want to ask me something else.”

“Well, I feel like you still weren’t very clear on the ‘eat me alive’ thing.”

You rolled your eyes. “Gods, Junnie, I’m not going to actually eat you—”

“I mean...” Renjun took a deep breath. “I kind of always feel like I’ve got a little bit of siren venom in me when I’m around you, Y/N. My heart races, and my skin is warm, and everything is just better when I’m with you. I want to see you when you’re not around, and when things are hard for you, I want to make everything better. I like you, and between the Dr. Magic deal, and our stupid academic rivalry, and what we did last night, I don’t know what I am to you, but that’s how I feel.”

If someone had told freshman you that Huang Renjun would ever say words like that to you, you’d have laughed in their face to the point of tears— or slapped them. And yet, in that moment, you weren’t surprised in the slightest. It was the most natural, beautiful, delightful, perfect thing that could’ve happened. Just like you leaning over to give him a modest, near-demure kiss on the cheek, absolutely beaming at him as you pulled back.

“I like you too, Renjun,” you admitted.

His eyes went wide before a broad, tender smile spread across his features and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He let out a drawn-out sigh of relief, “Ohh, that’s one weight off my chest for this week.”

You laughed in agreement. “Me too. Actually makes everything feel lighter.”

“Yeah, it does,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “So how much do I owe you?”

“What?”

“You said you were going to invoice Dr. Magic. For the browser extension, and the color copies, and whatever else. How much do I owe you?”

You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to think before a smirk pulled across your lips. “Mm, should be exactly the price of one nice dinner and a movie.”

“Dinner and a movie? Just how many copies were you making?” He asked with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“A nice dinner,” you reiterated. “I paid those CompSci majors fairly for their time.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Friday night after your last midterm, you were knocking on Huang Renjun’s door. The two of you had seen each other this week for your Linguistics in MCS class, but had been utterly locked into academic mode and hadn’t met up aside from that. So, per his invite, you were here in your “midterms best”— i.e., the pajamas you had been wearing at your own apartment since submitting your last mid-semester draft earlier today. You’d been told this wasn’t going to be a fancy affair.

Judging by the pajamas that Renjun had also answered the door wearing—giving you vivid déjà vu to the last time you were here—you were dressed appropriately for the occasion. He led you in by the hand, informing you there was something he wanted to show you in the kitchen.

You came to a stop in front of a plate piled high with small, pillow-shaped pieces of dough, some with bursts of red sauce leaking out of them. You couldn’t help but let out a sputtering laugh. “Pizza rolls? Did midterms scramble the egg on your face so bad that you missed the part where I said nice dinner?”

You might not have ever eaten pizza rolls, but you knew what section of the grocery store they came from.

“I can’t even tell what that was supposed to be… You’re so beautiful…” He was staring at you with a look of pure adoration, and surprised you by giving you a fleeting peck on the cheek, gone as soon as you’d realized what he was doing. Your hand instinctually came up to brush at your skin, almost in disbelief, as he went back to explaining his plans for tonight. “Anyway, I didn’t get to give you your first pizza roll the other night, and I figured that the last thing you actually wanted right after midterms week was to go out to some hoity toity place and be out at the movie theater really late, right? So, I’ve got pizza rolls, peanut butter cookies, your seaweed tea, and like way more snacks and candy and stuff. So we can chill and watch whatever movies you want tonight, unwind from midterms. And then next weekend, we’ll do your nice dinner and go to the movie theater. Think of it as an IOU.”

A fond smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you nodded your approval. “Mmm… you’re right. This is great, Junnie. Thank you.”

Set up on Renjun’s couch with the assortment of snacks—pizza rolls included—and your first movie chosen, you settled in next to him, knee to knee, under the same blanket as the two of you ate. You decided that pizza rolls weren’t that bad (you still liked peanut butter sandwich cookies better), convinced Renjun to try some of your ocean flakes again—a favorite snack of sirens, which he’d already tasted on one occasion at a Dr. Magic hunting session and hated—to similar results, and finished off a bottle of seaweed-infused tea by the time the first movie was about a third of the way done. At this point, you were pretty satiated food-wise, and set your empty drink bottle on the coffee table to sit back on the couch.

Linking your arm with Renjun’s, you rested your head on his shoulder as he was still finishing up his plate of pizza rolls. “That was good, Renjun. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I call dibs on little spoon first, by the way.”

“Damn.”

Once he was done eating as well, you laid down to eagerly take your promised place as little spoon. Renjun stayed partially propped up against the arm of the couch so he could see the TV as you were nestled back against his chest, one of his arms slung over your waist. Your fingers played with his under the blanket absentmindedly as you got used to your new place, with him, in his arms.

“Renjun?” You said into the quiet. The only noises were coming from the TV. The movie was nearly done, just a couple little resolving scenes after the climax left. You’d seen it plenty of times before—both of you had, it was a favorite that you’d discovered you two shared earlier in the semester—which was why you’d picked it, an easy watch that you both liked. But nothing that required your full attention, so you could talk or miss scenes if you wanted.

“Yeah?” He responded just as softly.

“This is really nice. Hanging out, just us. No school, no Dr. Magic.”

“I know. Almost doesn’t feel real.”

“What? That we’re hanging out without trying to kill each other?”

He let out a couple laughs, catching your hand that had been playing with his under the blanket and lacing your fingers together. “I think there’s definitely some people that would be shocked to see us right now. But I meant more-so that we don’t have any schoolwork to do right now, and that the whole Dr. Magic thing is finally over. Other than the dinner that I owe you.”

“Oh… I owe you… I-O-U…” you sounded the words and letters out slowly. “I get it now.”

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed dreamily, brushing your hair away from your face to press two kisses to your temple in quick succession.

You turned over to face him to properly protest, “Hey, I didn’t grow up around humans, you know that, right? I just came here to go to school! I moved here like, two weeks before our first day of freshman year—”

“I’m not making fun of you, Y/N!” He promised, sandwiching your hand between both of his and squeezing it tightly. “I respect how difficult it must have been for you to acclimate to the new culture and city when you moved, and so suddenly, on top of starting school. I just love y- love when you do that. Genuinely, I’m so charmed by it. Endeared. Bewitched. Whatever word you want to use. It’s something I never noticed until this semester, when we started doing the Dr. Magic stuff together. Despite knowing you for so long, in the department, in classes.”

“You know what I never knew about you before this semester, Junnie?”

“What?”

“That you were such a softie,” you snickered fondly. “I thought you were all textbooks and GPA and flashcards and whatever.”

The human ducked his head bashfully. “It’s something I’ve been working on this year.”

“Between this and Dr. Magic, I think you’ve been doing pretty well.”

“Thanks.”

“So, why did you do it, Junnie?” You asked curiously. “Not be a softie, I mean, but…”

“What? Be Dr. Magic?” He clarified, to which you nodded. “I didn’t mean to make a persona like that, really. I had to pick a screenname, and the guys had jokingly called me that a couple times when I helped them out with some problems. That’s all.”

“I know why you started the account. Knowledge. That’s also why you didn’t get the credit. You just needed to know. Though, the story behind the name is cute,” you pinched his cheek, and he tried to deter your hand with his shoulder half-heartedly. “I mean more like, why were you hiding your IP and using VPNs and stuff before you even knew that I was trying to track you down? In the fall.”

“I made the first couple posts from the school computers just because I like to do my work there, I wasn’t trying to cover anything up. Then I pictured what I’d do if I found someone posting like I was on the forums. And I would’ve tried to find out who they were. So I started covering my tracks a bit more intentionally after that. Didn’t want any groupies rolling up on me.” He pinched your side teasingly with the last sentence, and you slapped his hand away with an eye roll.

“Oh shut up!” You scoffed, ignoring his hands as he tried to pull you back towards him again.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m sorry,” he apologized through his chuckles. “If anything I’m your groupie, I swear. Your number one fan from the moment you showed me your conspiracy board.”

“Mm, fine.” You scooted closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you once more. “Glad we got that cleared up.”

Renjun shifted to lay on his back, and you easily followed the move to snuggle in mostly on top of him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and your hand on his waist, fingers innocently smoothing over a patch of skin above his hipbone where his shirt had ridden up. It sounded like the credits were on by now, but you didn’t really care about picking another movie as Renjun hummed along to the familiar song that played over the scrolling names. You’d sing along too, if you were alone at your own place. But now you didn’t dare even hum like the human with you for fear of what it could do to him. Renjun’s voice was plenty lovely enough though, even just this casual little bit humming. You’d see if you could get him to sing for you properly one of these days. If an opportunity came before graduation. Who knew what your days would even look like before then.

Gods, graduation. You felt like you could shrivel up and die just thinking about it. Not to mention that you hadn’t even told Renjun that you’d—

“Hey. What are you thinking about?” He suddenly asked, his disapproving tone clear.

You gulped. “How could you tell I was thinking about something?”

“For one, you’ve got your bad thinking face on.” He pinched your bottom lip. “You pout. It’s very dramatic. You look very concerned.”

“I have different thinking faces?”

“Yeah, you look different when you’re studying. I’ve seen you do plenty of that to know the difference. And you’ve got a third face when you’re contemplating. Usually you do that one when you’re looking at menus.”

“I didn’t know I was apparently an open book.” You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“It’s cute, Y/N. You’ve got a cute face, and you make cute facial expressions with it, don’t cover it up.” He gingerly grabbed your hands to encourage you to take them off. “Except I am worried about what’s making you make your bad thinking face right now. What’s wrong?”

With a sigh, you pushed up into a sitting position. Renjun followed your lead curiously, a thoughtful frown on his own features as he watched you pull your knees to your chest.

“Renjun, I need to tell you something.”

He regarded you with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “Okay… go for it.”

Nervously, you smoothed out some wrinkles in your pajama pants as you confessed, “Uhm, Dr. Kwon asked me to carry the banner at commencement. I said yes.”

“I knew that.”

“What?” You looked up at him in disbelief.

“Well, since it was midterms already, I figured that if they’d picked me, they would have asked me by now and since they hadn’t, then they must have picked you. I was just waiting for you to tell me so I could tell you… Congrats.” Renjun grinned brightly at you, reaching out to rest his hand on your arm.

“You’re not upset?” You asked trepidly.

“We’re not petty little freshmen anymore, Y/N. No, I’m not upset. I’m proud of you, you deserve it.”

“So did you.”

“Not any more than you did.” He shook his head firmly. “So would you just accept my congrats already?”

You gave a small, shaky smile. “Thank you…”

“There we go.”

“This is what I was so freaked about… when we went to get froyo.”

“You were afraid of me being mad at you for being picked to carry the banner?” Renjun asked incredulously.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” You defended yourself. “And now I have to do the commencement practices, on top of senior capstone and my extracurriculars…”

He wrinkled his nose. “Ew, commencement practices. So glad I didn’t get picked now, actually.”

“And that was so convincing, Junnie.”

“You remember what you said to me when we got froyo?”

Scrunching your face up, you struggled to think back to the exact conversation you had that day—you’d been really stressed. “Uh, ‘exactly two gummy sharks on mine please?’”

“Well, yeah, your hyper-specific froyo order—”

“Throwing stones at black kettles much?” You teased.

“Excuse me?” Renjun’s eyes went wide.

“Is that not—? I really thought I got it that time.”

“Did you mean to say ‘throwing stones in glass houses’ and/or ‘the pot calling the kettle black?’”

“…Yes.”

He turned very serious as he went to tenderly cradle your face in his hands. “I’m going to kiss you in like two seconds after I finish what I was saying, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” you agreed weakly, wishing very much that he’d just do it now instead of making you wait. He then let your face go.

“When we were talking about wanting people to know that we’re smart,” Renjun clarified. “You said that we’re both like that, and you knew that you were like that. And then you asked me if I knew that I was like that. I had tried to swear up and down this entire time that I was doing all of this—the needing to be the best—for myself. But it wasn’t. I’m like that too. That’s kind of what Dr. Magic was, me taking a step back from needing everyone to know I was the smartest person in the room. A quasi-experiment, to see if I could do it.”

“I think that after graduation, maybe we both chill on being the smartest person in the room, and try to just spend a summer working on that magical bucket list of yours?” You suggested.

“Oh?” He perked up at this. “Really?”

“You ever seen a werewolf shift?”

“No…”

“That sounds like a ‘not yet’ to me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He confirmed with a conspiratorial grin that mirrored the one that you could feel across your own face. “You know how sirens can’t get dosed up on their own venom?”

“Yeah…” You nodded, wondering where he could be going with this.

“Well, I know a witch with a proprietary love potion blend that I think we might be able to modify to produce similar effects.”

“Fascinating.” You thought on this for a second, very quickly running through your knowledge of potion properties to imagine what it could be. “Two-factor blood potion?”

“Yes. But we’d put your venom in it instead of your blood so it wouldn’t kill me.”

“That could work…” You mused. “Speaking of, I should really give you a full dose one of these days.”

He breathed in sharply. “That wasn’t a full dose?”

“Nope.”

“Holy shit…”

“Have you ever watched a phoenix reincarnation?” You added another suggestion to your joint summer bucket list.

“Have you? Wouldn’t that literally blind us?” Renjun questioned, something akin to genuine concern on his face now.

You shrugged. “Allegedly. It’s never been recorded in a lab setting, so who really knows.”

“I think we’re going to get each other killed before we can get our PhDs,” he declared with a fond smile and shake of his head.

“Hey, the betting pools said we’d kill each other by junior year, so I think we’re doing well for ourselves.”

“Do you think we can collect on those bets when we graduate and we’re both still alive and have all of our limbs?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get there.”

“Oh my god, come here,” Renjun groaned deliriously, kneeling to grab your face with two hands and crash his lips to yours. You curled your fingers in the front of his shirt, pulling him down with you as you fell back against the arm of his couch, still connected.

Yeah, you’d drive off that burning bridge when you got there.

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

#renjun #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #renjun x reader #huang renjun #nct dream imagine #renjun imagine #nct imagine #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #renjun fluff #i: renjun #f: dr_magic2303 #au: strawberry sunday #*100 #*200

[netherfeildren]

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .4

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Mutual masturbation; Come eating; Angst; Vague mention of abortion; Discussions of child neglect; Discussions of unwanted pregnancy

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Some of this is so… phew… idk what came over me or how i come up with some of this shit. sorry (but not really). Joel’s a little nasty in this beware

Art is by Denis Sarazhin.

Word Count: 7.7K

Read on AO3

.4

A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty.

Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

To think that despite his momentary acquiescence to your need for space, he was not, afterwards, made into a raving, snarling beast prowling its cage after having tasted you, would be fallacy – because that was what he was calling it in his mind, for now. Not yet ready to accept it within himself as a full blown rejection, so yes, for now, space, time.

He returns home with Sarah after the lakehouse – Eva gone off with her girlfriends on an extension of the weekend, wanting to draw out the farewell to summer just a little longer – to their routine of lunches and snacks and daycare and evenings playing mermaids and dinosaurs in the little pool in the backyard that he’d gotten for her at HEB. He tries to be good, to remain calm, controlled, but it’s just short of impossible. He feels as though he still has the taste of you on the surface of his tongue, the sounds of your moans ringing in his ears at all hours of the day, in bed at night, hard and aching and alone, wanting you. This turns out to be a different type of hell to the one he’s usually used to, that of monotony and loneliness and resentment. No, this is burning and painful, a type of fire that whips through his arteries and chars his bones and leaves him dizzy and disoriented.

He’s never experienced something like this before. Not in his entire life. 

It is not easy, per se, but productive, to lose himself in his work, and the start of Sarah’s school year. She’s in a 3K program for the fall, her first time going to a real school, and the work and preparation and pure fucking anxiety induced at the thought of his baby going to such a big school is overwhelming. No small feat to accomplish all on his own. 

But at night, after he’s worked himself into the ground all day, and read Sarah her bedtime story, at least three times, sometimes up to seven, but never passing ten, that was their very strict rule, and tucked her in and checked the closet and under the bed and behind the door for monsters, when he’s finally found himself alone and quiet and with a spare, but infinitely painful moment to think of you, he lets you in, in full force.

He pulls his shirt up over the back of his head, tossing it into the hamper as he passes his closet into his restroom, undoes his belt and jeans, pulling his contraband from the pocket, to push them off as he reaches to turn on the shower. 

As he lets the water heat up, he pauses to look at himself in the mirror. Tall, long frame, still pleasing to a woman, he’d imagine. Well, he hopes so. He’s still strong, his shoulders broad, his chest built from the long hours of hauling and climbing and exhaustive physical labor. There are a few grays threaded through the dark curls at his temples. Sprouting, just in the last year, to remind him that he’s getting older. One of his buddies had told him that eventually everything went gray, everything. That weirded the fuck out of him, to be honest.  He hates the thought of you seeing that, thinking of him as old. You’re so much younger than him. So pretty. Too pretty. His middle has gone slightly softer since hitting forty, but only slightly. There’s no helping that. And the small creases at the corners of his eyes… shit, he’s getting old. But his cock is still long and thick, and he’ll give that to you as much as you’ll let him. If you ever let him. All the time if he can. All he has to do is find a way to see you again, to convince you to let him see you again.

He feels a small bitter ribbon of self consciousness curl through his stomach as he takes himself in. He doesn’t want you to think of him as some old man. Some old, sleazy man who’d seen you and been so fucking desperate for you, he hadn’t cared that he was married, that you’re too young for him, that he has a family, and responsibilities and a life, like some pathetic fucking pervert. You’re just so lovely, so soft and pretty and you smell so good, always. And he’s been so alone for so fucking long. He is lonely. And you, you’d looked at him, you’d seen him, you’d wanted him back just as fiercely as he’d wanted you, even if just for a moment. How was he ever supposed to be strong enough to resist that? And further than your wanting, you’re good and kind and smart and so fucking funny and adorable. Joel could be strong when he needed to be, but he could also be weak, and he thinks that you, perhaps, have the power to make him weaker than anything else. 

What do you do when you meet a woman, have a child, get married, and then find the person who you could very well fall, probably, very deeply in love with?

Because yes, even now, he is emotionally aware enough to recognize that. More than anything, he can recognize that he has, as of yet, never been in love, but that you present the great, great possibility for that. And yes, it’s too soon, and maybe nonsensical or crazy or what have you, but Joel has always been a man that’s known himself well. When he knows, he knows, and when he chooses, he chooses, and he is very close to knowing and choosing you. 

He looks down at your panties laying on the bathroom counter – the ones he’d stolen. After you’d slipped them off, too wet from your come, from him making you come – they’re his now. 

He runs his thumb and forefinger along the silk lace at the edge. They’re a pretty, soft blue. He loves the color blue now. It will, forevermore, be his favorite color after this. The cut in the back is high, he knows the soft flesh of your ass was left mostly uncovered by them, he remembers he felt it when you rode his thigh. He wishes he could have seen it. He hopes he’ll have another chance to see it. 

If he thinks about it hard enough, he can imagine that the middle gusset is still damp from you. He brings them to his face, presses them to his nose and inhales deeply. The scent: still faintly musky, but also, slightly sweet. He sticks his tongue out to taste the fabric, and a violent shiver passes through him. He has to clutch at the countertop to hold himself upright. His cock is fully erect and leaking now. 

He has to taste you. He has to get the chance to. He’ll die if he doesn’t. He’s sure of it.

He brings the soft lace down to his aching erection. He doesn’t care if he’s disgusting. He doesn’t care about anything. All he wants is to feel you. To temper this fire churning in his blood. He can’t remember the last time his body felt like this, the last time he wanted something this fucking badly he felt like he’d die if he didn’t have it. Maybe never – he doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this. He wraps your panties around his hard length and starts to jack himself off. Strong, tight strokes from base to tip with the tiny, blue silk sliding along his fevered skin. The sound of your orgasm, the look in your eyes as you humped his thigh, ground your little clit on him and soaked his denim. He should’ve touched you more when he had the chance. He wants to fuck you so badly, wants to sink into the tight, wet clutch of your cunt and fuck you full of his come. Mark you. Brand himself into your skin so that you’re never without him. He wants you to smell like him. He wants to feel the wet gush he felt on his jeans on his cock and dripping down his balls, and Jesus fucking Christ, he comes at that. Long, thick ropes of white spend, spitting from his swollen tip at the thought of your pussy coming around him, a desperate whimper escaping in the quiet loneliness of his restroom.  

-

He thinks of you constantly, what seems like every moment of the day, in the weeks that follow. As much as he tries to keep a straight head on, he can’t. He craves you, dreams of you, fucks his hand to the memory of you coming for him, spilling his seed over and over again in the shower at the remembered look in your eyes and the sounds you made for him. He can’t help himself. 

Outside of that, everything else in his life is bleak and slow and… and he doesn’t know what else to call it, except for sad and wanting. Lonely. To have touched something so alive, so beautiful and sweet and perfect, and then be forced to return to the barren landscape that is his life in everything outside of his daughter, it’s jarringly difficult to do. He wants to be strong, to do what you asked of him, but it had been so long since he’d really wanted something for himself. Couldn’t remember what the last thing had been, really, and so to now have something to desire, something to want and think of, it makes him weak and fills his head with all kinds of excuses to see you, to call you – he’d forced Tommy to steal your number for him out of Gerri’s phone – to go to your work and wait for you to come out, just so he can catch a single glimpse of you.

He restrains himself from that, though. He forces himself to focus his mind on other things, Sarah and school and playdates, and he works himself like a dog, taking on more contracts than he ever has before. He doesn’t give himself any time to rest, any time to think, and in the few moments that he does, when he stares at your number on the screen of his phone, imagining what it is he’d say to you if he called, if you answered, what the sound of your voice would be like saying hello to him, saying his name, or in the moments when he fucks himself raw and spent and sad, those are the moments when he feels weakest, when he feels most alone, when he’s almost overwhelmed with wanting. 

-

He only lasts a measly three weeks after the lake house before he’s outside of the elementary school, one late Wednesday afternoon during the second week of the new school year. The sky is dark and angry, on the verge of a downpour, and he’s been waiting, agitated and anxious, for about half an hour, before you finally come out the double doors. 

The lightest sprinkling of rain is starting up, and he jumps out of his truck’s cab, jacket in hand, to approach you. He says your name softly as he comes up on your side while you’re distracted, digging in your purse for something.

You jump slightly at the sound of his voice and turn your wide, worried eyes on him, “Joel–” your voice, soft and breathy, so sweet, “Is everything okay? What are you doing here? Is Sarah okay?”

He holds his hands up in what he hopes is an appeasing, non-threatening gesture, he doesn’t want you nervous. Fucking Christ, asking for Sarah with that look of worry in your eyes, “Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” how in the fuck is he supposed to not be obsessed with you? “I was just – I was just hoping we could talk, is all.”

You look around at the sparsely filled parking lot, as if searching for witnesses, or perhaps, an escape, but then you turn back to him and pause to take him in. He watches the sweep of your eyes down his body, and then back up, stopping to search for something in his eyes. Whatever you find there must give you the answer you need because you nod your head once, “Alright, we can talk,” you say softly.

“My truck? Can we drive for a bit? I’ll bring you back.” You nod again, and he drapes his jacket over your shoulders to protect you from the drizzle as he leads you to his truck. “S’bout to come down hard,” he murmurs as he opens the passenger door for you, taking your wrist in his hold to help you up into the truck. He can’t help himself, he reaches for your seatbelt and buckles you in himself – is filled with an obscenely embarrassing fizz of pleasure at the gesture of it. 

You’re looking at him with the most concerned little frown marring the soft spot between your delicate brows, “Are you okay?” your voice slow and unsure, and then more of him being unable to help himself, to keep his hands to himself, because he reaches up and gently brushes his thumb over the little frowning wrinkle, nods his head once. 

“I’m okay, baby.”

He drives for a bit, takes you to a spot up in the hills he likes to come to sometimes when he needs to think. Somewhere the two of you can be alone and quiet, just for a moment. He parks the truck by a copse of trees, a view of Austin on the other side of the two of you. The rain has turned into a violent downpour by now. He shuts off the engine and looks out at the view of the city. 

-

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t bother you – you asked me to stay away, but –” He lets his head fall back against the headrest and sighs, and the sound of it is so weary, pained in a way that’s so very, very sad. It makes you hurt for him. You reach across the center console to grip his bicep, you can’t help yourself. You could see from the first look at his face that something was wrong. You know he wouldn’t have come to look for you if he didn’t need you now. 

“You’re not bothering me. I know I shouldn’t, but I wanted to see you too.” You only confess this because of the look in his eyes. The glassy, burdened look of them. You wish that you could climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, press your warmth into him. The rain hits the windshield like bullets, the sound deafening. The world outside of his truck’s cabin seems distorted, as if this liminal space the two of you sit in now, has been carved out of the rest of the real world, and the two of you exist here now, only, together. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” he wraps his hand over yours on his arm, drags his thumb over the smooth little hills of your knuckles. His gaze out the window is so far away, lost, something almost childlike in its desolation. You watch the strong ripple of his neck as he swallows, clears his throat. “Nothing – just wanted to see you. ‘Dunno… Felt so tired today.” He closes his eyes for a moment, “Couldn’t stop myself. Wanted to just give myself this one thing.” He lets his head roll against the seat to look at you, gives you the gentle curve of his crooked smile. So beautiful and so sad, and you can tell that something is endlessly wrong. You feel afraid, for one moment, that he’s going to start crying, the sadness in his eyes is so overwhelming. You don’t think you’ll be able to stand the sight of his tears, you think they might break you. “Just wanted to look at you, to sit here with you, just for a little bit.”

“Alright.” You’re quiet for a beat, watching him watch the rain. Part of you wants to give him space, give him quiet, but you need to know what’s wrong. You can’t bear the look in his eyes right now. “Did something happen?”

He’s silent, as if gathering his thoughts or his strength around him, and then: “Eva had a pregnancy scare this week.” A jagged shiver slices through you.

“What?” You croak, you try to pull your hand back, but he clamps down on your bones, holds you to him. “But I thought–”

He shakes his head, “Not mine.”

“Joel… what? Are– are you–” You blink furiously, at a loss. What do you say to the man who you’re kind of having an affair with when he tells you his wife, who is also seemingly having an affair, might be pregnant with another man’s child? This is all so, so fucked up. So ugly. You swallow, turn to look out at the rain. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t seem to help the tears from pooling. A bombardment of recurring images from your childhood slingshotting through your mind; your mother, leaving, angry, cold, quiet. Always pushing you away. The sound of her crying through her bedroom door, your child’s ear, pressed to the cool grain, trying to get as close to her as possible even though she doesn’t want you. Always shutting you out. Your father, dead to the world on the sofa in the living room, drowning in his liquor and yearning and hurt. The sight of a tall, handsome stranger, coming up the front walk to ring the doorbell, to take your mother away with him. The way he’d crouched down from his great height to ask you what your name was because she hadn’t even bothered to tell the man she was having an affair with, the man she was leaving you for, what your name was. 

What is it about being unlovable, you wonder, and why is it that some are cursed with it so cruelly, while others are not?

“Hey,” Joel tugs on your wrist, pulls you closer to him. “I told you, we’re not like that, we’ve never been. I don’t want you thinkin’ somethin’ else, that I haven’t been honest.” He drags the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, tips your head back to catch your eyes. You let them flutter shut and swallow, open them again. If you talk you’ll cry, but he needs words from you now. You swallow again, shake your head. 

“It’s– it’s not that. I believe you. And even if it was otherwise, I have no right–”

“Stop. Don’t say that. You know that isn’t true. You have the right to honesty after what I’ve told you, after what we’ve done.” You try to pull back, but he brings his palm to wrap around the back of your neck and grip you by the scruff. “Stop,” he grits, “Don’t pull away from me.” 

You bring your palms up to his chest, clutch at the collar of his shirt. “I’m not. I’m not, I’m sorry. It’s just–” you huff a sharp, bitter laugh, “Sometimes it’s like you’re just telling me the story of my childhood, over and over again. Like you’re living it again for me. This all sounds very pathetically familiar.” A tear finally falls, you can’t help it. A weeper in a long line of weepers, always. 

“Sweetheart…” he brushes the track of your tear away with his thumb.

You shake your head. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Is she?”

“She’s fine. Took her to the doctor this morning.”

“God, Joel– I don’t – I don’t know how you do this.” Another tear. You think of your father, how weak, how broken he was after her. He could have never shouldered the things Joel does. You feel very sad, very sorry, for the both of them, as different as they are. You feel sorry for the whole miserable lot of you, really.

“She needed my help, she was scared–” his thumb sweeps a slow, hypnotizing path up and down the back of your neck. The rough callus on his thumb catches at your sensitive skin and makes you feel hot and sweaty and overwhelmed for the feel of it on every other tender place on your body. “Terrified, really. Of being trapped like that again.”

“Trapped?”

“Sarah was never her plan. Neither of us were. She never wanted any of this.”

“You told me the marriage wasn’t conventional… but I didn’t – I didn’t think Sarah was included in that…” Your stories are too similar, the similarities too painfully familiar.

“We met at a bar, it was–” he looks away, and you watch a hot flush flood his cheeks. He’s embarrassed to tell you this. “It was a one night thing. Her birth control failed, and then – it was just – well, ending the pregnancy was never an option for her, and I told her from the get go that I’d do whatever she wanted, support her in anything she chose. She chose to go on with it. So I asked her to marry me, it made sense, it was– it was the convenient thing. At least, at the time – in my mind, it seemed so. But we – we were strangers, there was no connection. And then… I don’t know. It wasn’t, eventually – it wasn’t the right thing, at all, for any of us. She never wanted to be a mother. She told me once, after, that she’d chosen wrong, she’d made the wrong decision. And I always tried to be supportive, but by that time, well – we had Sarah by that time, and I– I loved her more than anything I’d ever loved in my whole life. Didn’t even know it was possible to love anything that much – and it made me so fucking angry with her – to–  to hear her say something like that, that she should’ve gotten rid of her. It was – I don’t know – a very complicated and painful thing –  for the both of us to grapple with, I guess. But I–” he pauses, takes a deep breath. His eyes shift madly, looking out the window as if the rain will bring with it an explanation or an escape for whatever it is that’s churning inside his mind as he tells you this. “There was never really anything to be angry with, I don’t think. No real reason or focus for my anger. I realized it’s impossible to fault a person for not being what they were never meant to be. She never wanted this. And I hadn’t planned for it, it just happened. And the decisions we made were made, and then things just ended up as they did. Sometimes – I don’t,” he frowns, shaking his head, “I don’t know how to say it, but–” He turns to you now, a wild, pleading look in his eyes, “But how can I say that we made a mistake, without saying that Sarah was a mistake? Because if I’ve ever done a single thing absolutely perfect, in my whole entire life, it’s that little girl. She’s perfect. You know what I mean?”

You nod, swallowing back your tears, “Yes.”

He frowns at you, his eyes filled with infinite tenderness, “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“I’m not,” you lie, turning to press the back of your hand to your hot eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just – it reminds me of myself, of my own mother. She – she was the same, I think. Never meant to be a mother. But not bad. It’s just what it was. And hearing you, hearing this, it makes me so sad for you, for all of you. I’m sorry.” He leans forward, wraps his hand around your jaw to press his brow to your wet cheek and just holds there. The two of you breathe each other in, match the cadence of your breaths to the other. You snake your arms around his broad shoulders to press yourself closer to him. It scares you, this feeling of necessity he forces out of you, like you need him, even this soon, for strength, for comfort, for happiness. You’ve never felt like this before, and it’s coming on so quickly, overwhelming you. You feel like you need him, and if you don’t have him you’ll never be happy for the rest of your life, you’ll never be able to forget him, to let him go. He shifts to nuzzle against your cheek and then your jaw, and then the hot press of his lips to the tender spot behind your ear. A violent tremble moves through you at the feel of his soft mouth against your skin, and you dig your nails harshly into his shoulders. 

“I just– lemme just–” he mumbles against your skin, and then that hand wrapped around your jaw is turning your head and forcing your mouth open so that he’s kissing you, licking into your mouth and everything goes tight and painful and white hot inside of you. “Jesus–” he says against your mouth. He forces your head back to deepen the angle, his other hand coming up to fist painfully in your hair, and you whimper into him. His answering groan is deep and rumbling and so, so wanting. Your heart feels like it’s flipping and squeezing and pinching inside your ribcage. You can hear how much he wants you, this, in the cadence of the sounds he makes. The kiss is wet, sloppy, full of teeth and all the desperation and yearning of these past few weeks. The days and days of not seeing him, of remembering your encounter in that dark room at the lake house, the way he’d made you come against his thigh, the sound of his own orgasm, the inhibition, the flush in his cheeks as he spilled in his jeans for you. The desperate, pathetic nights of your cunt stuffed full of your fingers, so wet and aching and still not enough even though you’d made yourself orgasm multiple times at just the memory of him. You claw at his hair and neck and back, you want to draw blood, imprint yourself on him in some way, the same way he’s imprinted himself on you. He brings the hand in your hair down to your waist to press you closer to him. The center console digs painfully into your ribs and you want to climb over it and settle in his lap, but you know you shouldn’t, that if you end up over there you’ll let him fuck you, and that you’ll never come back from that. Not ever. He drags his hand up to your breast, grips the heavy weight in his large palm and squeezes, and it hurts and it feels so, so fucking good that you rip yourself away from his mouth, push at his broad chest to force him away from you. The both of you stare at each other, wide eyed and panting great, heaving gasps. His hair is sticking up at all angles, messy from your pillaging fingers, his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed almost feverish. 

Oh, you want him so badly. This will be your undoing. 

“We– we can’t– I didn’t come here with you for– for that,” you gasp, pressing your fingers to your wet mouth.

“I know– I know– shit, we–” He passes a palm over his mouth, and you feel another tear slide down your burning cheek. You’re surprised you don’t see steam rise at the contact. “Fuck – fuck, baby, please. Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I got carried away– ”

“I’m not crying– I’m not.” Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll be true. You turn to wipe it away on the hill of your shoulder, try to hide your face.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you

“I wanted you to. I want it so badly,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut tight. You feel inconsolable. 

“I know– I know.”

You want him so badly, so badly, so badly, you want him to keep touching you forever. “It hurts, Joel. It hurts–”

“Jesus, what hurts? Tell me.” He leans forward, gripping your knee painfully tight, and you press yourself into the door at your back, “Fuck– is that sweet, little cunt aching for me? Tell me, baby.”

You nod

“Fuck, what if– what if we just – just watch each other? What if you pet your cunt for me, and let me watch? Just– just to make the ache go away? Would that be okay?”

You shake your head, unsure, but your hand is clutching his over your knee now, digging your nails into the top of his palm and letting him slowly push your knee open further. 

His voice is so coaxing. Oh, he shouldn’t use that tone of voice against you, you’re powerless to it. “You can, it’s okay. It’s just to make the ache go away, it’s okay,” and you have no choice but to capitulate, no desire to not give in.

His palm on your knee slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt to bunch at your hips, and he hooks one finger into the side of your panties to pull them down as you lift your hips, allowing him to divest you of them. So easy, you’re so fucking easy, and you don’t even care. All you can focus on right now is the throbbing ache between your legs. 

His eyes don’t leave yours as he says, “Spread your legs… that’s it.” 

“Don’t– don’t look–” you stutter as you bring your shaking fingers to your core, and he’s leaning back to undo his belt and drag his zipper down. You can’t look either, you can’t, if you do, you’ll lose, you know it. You see the peripheral movement of him reaching into his clothes to pull the heft of his cock out, the shift of his upper body as he lifts his hips to readjust his pants to free himself. Your cunt is slick and throbbing, painfully swollen. 

You watch the movement of his shoulder as he starts to jack himself, “Just your clit first, baby. Soft, little circles, yeah… how does that feel?”

“Good– good, yes.” You’re panting, mouth hanging open. There is fire in his gaze, all for you, only for you. 

“Yeah? You need more?”

“Please, Joel–” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but you don’t think it’s for your touch alone. 

“Give yourself one finger, sweetheart. Just one – tell me how wet it is? Are you soaked for me?”

You press one finger inside, and yes, yes, your’re fucking soaked for him, you say. He groans at that, the rhythm of his shoulder gets faster. “I have to look, baby. Please, please, I have to see how wet it is.” The tops of his cheeks are flushed red, but as you watch the downward shift of his eyes to your spread sex, the place where you’re impaling yourself with a single finger, his eyes flare, the flush seems to ricochet even higher, hotter. You pull your finger out to cup yourself, hide yourself, burning with shyness and lust, but fuck, the look in his eyes, it’s bright hot, devouring. No one has ever looked at you like that. Never. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moans, “Put ‘em back in. Fuck yourself, make yourself come. I have to see it.” So fucking gorgeous, you hear him mutter under his breath, and you finally give yourself permission to look down as you stuff two fingers back into your desperate pussy. Fuck your rules, you have to see him.

He’s huge.

Thick and long, the size of his cock is not made smaller by the massive breadth of his fist holding it in a vice-like grip, jacking it, tight and fast. The head is flushed a deep, angry red, the slit at the top weeping a pearly stream of precum that makes your mouth water and the muscles in your pelvis tighten – you want to taste him, you want him to fuck your mouth until you’re forced to swallow his load. There’s a thick vein running up the entire length of the underside of the shaft that you’re sure you’d feel his pulse in if you set your tongue against it. He’s pulled his heavy balls out over the edge of his jeans too, and he cups them and squeezes. 

“Spread yourself wider for me – yeah like that… Lemme see you stretch that cunt.”Oh, he’s so dirty. 

You’re sucking in quick, shallow gulps of air, on the verge of hyperventilating as you watch his massive palm beat at his cock, almost dizzy with lust, your blood rushing in your head, your pussy sopping wet, tight as a knot. This isn’t enough, you want to stop, you want to go further, you want him to touch you, to climb into his lap, to take that heavy, thick weight inside of you and feel him stretch you to the point of pain. “Don’t look– you shouldn’t look–” you don’t know why you say it, maybe because you feel you have to, but it’s nonsensical when your eyes are glued to him. 

“I have to look, baby. Please, don’t ask me that. I have to see it – fuck, you’re so gorgeous, look at you. Prettiest fucking cunt I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Stop,” you moan, arching your back further to crook your fingers inside of yourself, hitching your knees higher to pet at the spongy, tender spot inside you that you’d like him to own. “St– stop– I’m–  m’not your baby– don’t– don’t– oh fuck, I’m gonna come–” your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sound of his choked growl, his eyes glued to your stretched sex, the sounds of your wetness and his slick palm echoing in the truck cabin. 

“You are, you are – even if you won’t let me touch you, won’t let me have you – you fucking belong to me now. Already, even like this – look at you, about to come for me with just my eyes on you.” His hips start to lift into his fist, his hand almost a blur for how fast he’s fucking himself, teeth gritted, tendons in his strong neck popping starkly under the surface of his flushed, sweaty skin. 

“Fuck– fuck, it’s so pretty.”

“Stop– please, Joel, I need–”

“Wanna taste it and fuck it and fill it with my come–”

“Oh my fucking God–” you’re going to come, now, now, it’s right there. You tell him.

“One more finger – lemme see you stretch yourself… yeah like that… my good fucking girl,” grunted as you stuff a third finger inside and start to spasm, mewling high and desperate for him, grinding your clit against the mound of your palm. You want his cock to stretch you like this, and you tell him. The sound he makes at your desperate plea, as if it’s been ripped out of him, painful, desperate, savage. You watch the wide head flush an almost deeper shade, verging on purple now, and he squeezes the base cruelly, his sack fisted tight in his other hand, and he starts to come, a thick white stream of milky spend that makes your mouth water, sliding over his fist and spurting onto his exposed belly. “Oh God, Joel, I want it.” You can’t stop the words, the sight of his orgasm forces them out of you. 

“I know, baby, I know. I want to give it to you,” he says through clenched teeth. 

You both stay frozen like that for a moment as you come down, panting and staring at each other wide eyed and flushed and trembling. That was, perhaps, no, it was without a doubt, the most intense thing you’ve ever experienced with a man, and you’d barely even touched each other. Pain and pleasure coalesce to leave you shaking and sweating, your skin hypersensitive. You’re scared you’re going to start crying again and scare him, give him the wrong idea – that you’d not liked this, that you’d not wanted this. When the truth is that nothing could ever compare to how much you wanted, needed it. How much you’ll want this forever now. You want to take him inside of you. The sheer force of your desire almost has a flavor, a shape to it. The strength of it, so potent, it is almost made sentient – a living thing. 

You pull your wet fingers out, and he snaps forward suddenly, to snatch your hand towards himself and brings the slick digits into his mouth, his tongue laving hot and wet between the spaces, sucking on them. All the while his eyes are zeroed in on the space between your legs, on the place that is still clenching and stretched, so ready and eager for him to fill. You gasp at his ferocity, at the feral look in his eyes because you can see, you can see that almost sentient desire you’re filled with, reflected in his own eyes. 

“Joel–” you whisper as he presses one final kiss to the wet tips of your fingers, his eyes fluttering shut as he holds there for one moment. 

“I know–” he whispers back, and when his eyes come back to yours, there is such a depth of understanding in them. You realize in this moment, in this shared look, that the two of you are the same in an essential way. It isn’t just your desire that connects the two of you now, it’s so much more. A loneliness, a sentimentality, perhaps, a keen sense of familiarity. That vein of shyness, of being closed off, that fear of opening up, of being hurt, of being left. He’s the same, you can see it, feel it. 

You’d never thought you had a very good sense of self identity – your perception of yourself skewed in the image of your mother, of who she was, of her shadow, of the things she’d done, but in this moment, looking into the reflection of Joel’s eyes, you feel you see yourself very clearly, almost securely, for the first time. It is recognition the two of you are sharing now, for some reason, in some way, you recognize him. And you find it ironic, that now, in this moment of all times, when you’re doing the very thing that you’d always been so afraid of, of turning into the thing that you’d always feared because of your mother, it is ironic that you are finally able to cast away her shadow, her image, and see only yourself, so clearly, so wholly, because of him.

And yet, despite the sudden, blinding clarity, oh, it was all so dark, so dark, that it be this man, this unavailable, married, unreachable man, that would make you feel so wholly seen, so understood, so connected. 

Your wrist is left wet and sticky where he’s gripped you with his spend covered fingers, but you’re careful not to wipe it away. You want to be left with the tightness of his dried come over your skin. 

“Don’t say that we shouldn’t have done that,” he tells you.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

“I was going to say that I wish we could do it again – that I wish we could do more.”

“Shit–” he whispers, passes his dry palm over his mouth and then up into his hair, to tug at the messy curls. You move to right your clothes, and he follows your lead, tucking himself back into his jeans. “Me too.”

You let your head rest back against the window as the two of you stare at each other in silence for a moment. It’s comforting, filled with companionship, understanding, the intimacy of the moment the two of you just shared. Your cheeks feel hot and you can’t help but smile at him, just a little, a small laugh escaping, and then he’s returning it, smiling and laughing softly too, until the both of you are wracked with the most ridiculous, schoolyard giggles, like two blushing teenagers. It’s a wonderful moment for the purity of it, the two of you together, laughing. Later, you’re sure it will make you very sad and desperate to relive it, but now, oh, now, it really does feel so wonderful. You wish the two of you could live here forever, together in this moment, in the warm, intimate space of his truck’s cabin.

You talk for hours after that, about nothing and everything. His work and yours, your art, his love of building things, of taking care of things, music and movies and books and Sarah. Always, Sarah. 

“She has an obsession with bats right now, weird kid, and there’s a sanctuary up town. We spent a few hours there on Saturday, she loved it. Scampering around in this Snow White princess dress she’s refused to take off for the past three weeks. Won’t part with the damn thing, not even to let me wash it.”

He loves her so much, and it makes your heart pinch and your eyes go hot and weepy. He is, you think, an exceptionally good father, an exceptionally good man. 

Eventually, however, it gets late enough that the two of you realize you need to get home. He drives you back to the school in the most comfortable of silences, your hand intertwined reassuringly in his strong embrace. It feels worryingly natural, right. 

“Will you let me see you again?” he asks when he pulls up next to your lonely car in the school parking lot. 

“I don’t– I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Joel. This will only go further from here if we continue. And I don’t– I can’t be your–” you frown, shaking your head, disgusted at yourself for even having to say the words, “I can’t be your mistress,” you tell him bluntly.

“I would never, never ask that of you.”

“So, then what is it supposed to be? You’re going to leave your wife? That– that isn’t what I want. I don’t want to be the thing that breaks your marriage up, your family, that leaves Sarah in a broken home. I cannot be that.” It would be your worst nightmare come to life. 

He says your name in the most serious tone you think he can muster, as if he can imbue the understanding of his words into your stubborn skull with the resonance of it, “There is no marriage to break up. She’s leaving soon, I know it, I can tell. She’s done. She’s leaving Sarah, and I don’t think she’s coming back this time. I don’t think I can let her just – just come in and out of our daughter’s life like that. Something needs to stop or change. I have to do something to make this better for my girl.”

“I understand that, and I can’t– I can’t tell you how sorry I am to hear that for Sarah. For you. Really, I understand more than I can tell you – but still, when it comes to you and I, or you and her – I can’t … I can’t get into that like this. I– I, I don’t–” you pant, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. But I can’t do that, this. Not now.”

“Baby–”

“No, Joel. You don’t understand – I watched my mother cheat on my father my entire childhood, until she up and left us one day, left him. I watched him love her for years, unreturned, suffer for her, and then I watched him kill himself slowly, drink himself to death until I buried him.”

“That isn’t what Eva and I are–”

“I cannot have an affair with you. I know – I know that’s basically what we’re already fucking doing – I know I’m a hypocrite–”

“You’re not–”

“But I can’t also be the reason you leave your marriage. It would kill me – do you understand?” your voice cracks, you’re shocked you’re not crying right now. “Please, Joel.”

He looks at you for a moment, you’re afraid you can see anger in his eyes, but then they go soft, understanding, and he says, “Yeah… yeah, sweetheart. I understand.” Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a shaky breath, relieved, but at the same time, filled with a sick twist of disappointment. What would you do if he pressed you, if he forced you? You know part of you would like it. “Can I at least call you? Only sometimes, please. Just to talk – to hear your voice.”

You start to shake your head, but when you open your eyes and take in the pleading look in his gaze, you can’t say no. “Alright, yes… yes, you can call me. That’s okay.”

“Can I kiss you? Just once more?” You lean over the console and press your lips to his, sudden and rough, as an answer, your teeth clicking together harshly. Of course, you want to kiss him again, of course. 

One long, tight moment, you clutch his wrists to keep them from pulling you in closer, and then you’re pulling back, scrambling out of the truck and forcing yourself away from him. You need to get away before you lose all strength of will and just let him do whatever he wants to you. You hear him get out, as well, and follow you around to your driver’s side door, waiting behind you as you dig for your car keys in your bag. You open the door, and then turn back to him, you can’t help yourself, and he lifts a hand to drag his thumb across your cheekbone, along the edge of your jaw. His eyes look so sad, like he’s afraid this’ll be the last time the two of you ever see each other again. The tears are back and angrily demanding release, but you try and take deep breaths through your nose to keep them at bay while your entire frame shakes and shivers at the restraint. He nods once and leans forward to press a long kiss above your brow, and then he turns and walks back to his truck, gets inside. He waits until you’ve gotten in your own car and are driving away, great heaving sobs wracking your body, overwhelming you, before you see him finally turn his truck on and start to drive back home, back to his wife and child.

Chapter .5

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

End Notes: This was kind of a heavy one, if there’s anything you’d like to chat about (or yell at me for all the angsty bullshit) pls come do so :)

#someone's fic #Joel miller #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

[spdrvyn]

Can we maybe get pt.2 of I’ll be lonely with you?

can you be lonely with me? — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: ever since your first real encounter with miguel, you're sure that your relationship him has grown ever since. it's hard to put an exact label on it but it's safe to say that he's grown more comfortable to confide in your presence nowadays.

NOTES: i keep getting reqs for miguel fluff and a part 2 from the last fic i did so i am killing 10 birds with a machine gun here. you also don't really need to read the first fic to understand this one but if you want to see how it all starts out then it's on my masterlist if you wanna get a better understanding of it! this one is more from miguel's perspective by the way :3 this gets fluffier as i proofread it uhhh good luck you're gonna get cavities!!!

No matter where he went, no matter how hard he tried. Noise, it followed Miguel.

If he was dealing with an anomaly, he would hear the shrieks and cries of the people all around him. The shuttering of phone cameras, law enforcement telling civilians that they'll be able to handle it.

If he was in his own dimension, walking amonst the other Spider-people, he would hear the chatter and the gossip. Mechanical whirring, the sound of webs being shot, it's like it was haunting him.

It's the reason why he enjoyed staying in his office so much. Even if he can hear the occasional bang or clang, it was mostly quiet. He's contemplated getting earplugs to drown out the sounds but there's always a need for him to be alert.

That's where you come in.

Granted, it's not like you were a magical pair of noise-cancelling headphones that descended from the heavens (maybe just a little bit) but you provided some relief for Miguel.

On the chance that the two of you met, whether it's in the cafeteria, passing by each other in headquarters, or once you built up the courage to actually visit him in private—

He didn't want to admit it. It might be a little dramatic but he'd rather die than admit it.

But... he enjoyed your company.

Granted, he had trouble putting his thoughts into words at times. Talking about the arachno-humanoid-poly-multiverse could be easier than answering a question about what his favorite pet was but you? You made it seem so simple, so easy.

You didn't really talk to him about crude and mindless topics such as 'how his day went' or whatever. Conversations could span from your childhood best friends to your most memorable trip with your family or even high school love lives.

Miguel contributed much less to the conversation obviously but listening to you talk was more than enough for him. Your voice satieted him, it was almost addicting.

The melodies sung by birds in the morning, the praise he receives from colleauges about his deeds. They couldn't even compare to you.

Although, there were a lot of things that he also hated about you.

He hated how you could make him hear his heart drumming in his chest whenever you lay your hands on him. Even if it's for the most miniscule of things, like whenever you brush shoulders or graze fingertips; it sends a pleasurable shiver up and down his spine.

He hated your face, your smile, your eyes. Whenever he had the chance to open up about himself, when you had the pleasure of experiencing the rarity that is hearing a personal detail about Miguel; he'd look back at you once he finished talking and he'd see that look. A look of how proud you were of him, a look of longing and wanting. It's taken his breath away more than you'd ever hear him say.

He hated your compassion. Miguel has had an uncountable amount of bad days that if he made an attempt to number them, it would give him migraines. During those days, he would be grumpy, irritable, upset at the little details and during those days, you still wouldn't give up on him how he imagined even some of his better known acquaintances probably would.

Most of all, he hated himself for not knowing why.

For the longest time, he's thought of himself in the worst way possible. Unlikeable, difficult to be around, anti-social, and so much more and so much worse. Why did you continue to stay with him?

Having late night meals or snacks with him has now become a very frequent occurence, it was practically a ritual at that point. You'd even managed to convince to come out during more normal hours for lunch or just to "take a stroll around".

He's given up on himself, given up on the possibility that he could be anything more than his role of protecting the multiverse.

Yet, you gave him even the smallest sliver of hope.

He hated himself for wanting to hold onto it.

He didn't care anymore if he didn't know the reason why you continued to tolerate him after all this time, all he knew is that he'd try to stay by your side to the best of his ability. Holding onto that brittle string of a dream you handed him.

Key statement being 'to the best of his ability', tonight was such a time he couldn't be able to see you, much to his dismay. Swamped with surveillance, reports, reminiscing. The last time that he got a glimpse of your beauty was earlier this afternoon, only god knows how many hours have passed since then.

Perhaps it would be best if he found out himself. "Lyla," He called out, the virtual assistant hovers over his shoulder. Pixels floating over him. "What time is it?"

A little clock glitches into Lyla's hands, she hums before looking back at Miguel with her usual smug expression. "3:47 in the morning. You've been at it for seven hours now, Miguel."

His eyes flutter short for a moment, possibly the only wink of sleep that he'll get through out the night. Even when his eyes are closed, it's like the screens he's been looking at for hours to no end are now tattooed into his eyelids or something.

With a deep sigh, he continues working at it anyway. It's not like whatever anomaly or evil that's awaiting him in a distant universe will allow to him to get some shut-eye anyway. What's the use if he takes such an opportunity now?

Unusually, Lyla doesn't 'disappear' yet. Normally once he's done making a request, she poofs straight into thin air unless she's going to make remark back at him yet she remains in complete silence.

"Anything else, Lyla?"

"Someone's coming." She announces abrubtly, her tone is blank and lacking of emotion. Is that a sign of danger? Without daring to hesitate, Miguel puts his mask on. Eyes shifting to each dark corner in the room, ready to snatch and tear at whatever beast is—

All of a sudden, there's giggling. Coming from Lyla, of course. A hand clutches at her stomach, the other waving a finger in his face. The small outburst of laughter sends echoes. "Oh, wow! You're that paranoid already? Jeez, get some sleep maybe..."

As quickly as his mask came on, he takes it off. An aggravated scowl playing at his features, Miguel folds his arms over his chest. "I can't believe you. No me asustes así, Lyla. Is there someone coming or not?"

Finally, her stream of cackles stop as she catches her breath. She nods, perching herself on his shoulder; she pretends to check her nails. "Take a guess."

"I don't know. Who?"

"Come on, take a gander at who. You won't believe who it is."

"Lyla, no more messing around. Dime quién es, or else I'm putting you on low power mode." The threat is empty and there is no low power mode, Miguel has said it to her more than a dozen times but the response that he's able to provoke with it is a little laughable.

Begrudginly, she swipes a screen into view. Revealing you entering the hallway that leads into his very office, he's barely even get a good look at it before the screen disintegrates. Lyla crosses her arms, basically imitating the same position that Miguel is in right now.

"Happy?"

"Very. Leave us alone for a bit, won't you?"

In retaliation, she sticks her tongue out at him before her avatar shatters into mere blocks of code then disappearing entirely. Perfect timing he'd say as he sees you come into view on the stage below.

Once you're able to catch sight of him, you wave at him. That same gleeful smile that tugs at his heart strings. The lowering of his platform is finished, signified with an audible click.

You don't hesitate to head on up, immediately you wrap your arms around Miguel, pulling him into a warm but unexpected embrace. He doesn't have time to respond or think, muscles tensing once greeted with your touch.

He doesn't get the chance to hug back either before you pull away, hands remaining on his shoulder and his forearm. Only then does he realize that the grin you wore was tinged with a hint of concern.

"Sorry, sorry," You sputter out, chest rising up and down as you huff with relief. "I just didn't see you in the cafeteria a while ago, I thought something happened to you but I had to go back to my dimension due to reasons."

There's a sharp punch at Miguel's head once he realizes. He forgot about your midnight ritual, drowning in his work that he neglected the one other person important to him. "Mierda, I'm so sorry. It— it slipped my mind, I was just..."

Unable to finish his sentence, mind scrambling for what to tell you. To say that he was doing his job would maybe be fair but would it spare any of the pain that he may have caused you for missing it?

He's fully expecting you to be simmering with anger, even by just a little bit. That whole thing was how you two got to develop such a connection with each other anyway and he fucked it up.

A small lecture, a scolding, a disappointed glare.

"Hey, hey. It's fine, what matters is that you're okay. Whatever tasks you're taking on here are really important, I'm not upset at all. You're just doing what you gotta do,"

Nothing?

Nothing at all!

"Oh." All the apologies, the reasons he's been looking for, the pleading that he would've saved as a last resort to quell your boiling rage has now gone out the window. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, I am. I have no reason to be mad at you right now, Miguel. Although..." Oh no. Here it comes, brace yourself! "When's the last time you slept? I swear,"

His hands clench into fists, nearly flinching away as your hand reaches up to his cheek. Your thumb rubs the circles under his eyes, "These get deeper everytime I see them." With a sigh of defeat, he wraps a hand of his own around your wrist. Cheeks sinking into the soft caress, ever so slightly.

The way that your expression twists into one of worry once he doesn't respond, how Miguel feels the stinging in his chest for making you concerned but he thought it would be better than telling you honestly.

Your hand slips from his cheek, he tries to tamp down the disappointment at the loss. "I wish I could stay for longer but you have your duties, I have mine."

He nods understandingly, why wouldn't he? He knew that notion best, arguably a lot more than most Spider-people. At least, he'd be able to better appreciate this moment you two shared no matter how short lived it was.

"Promise me that you'll sleep once you're done."

Silently, barely even above a whisper, he utters: "I promise."

You shoot him one last smile before you swing back onto the lower platform, sparing one last glance then you disappear into the dark hallway. Miguel's face falls once you leave,

He despises how he misses you already.

#miguel o'hara #lyla atsv #greta lee #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #fluff #romance #there is a TOUCH of angst #y/n is not used #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #writing request #writing requests #anon request #requests open #if you thought that miguel was pathetic in my last fic #OHOHOHOHOHO #hohohoho #hoho #good luck