#but absolutely gets turned around and gushes about it once she receives it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astroph1les · 7 months

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more than study buddies | h.c

summary: you’ve had a crush on hazel for yearsnow. after you get partnered with her in mr.g’s class, she asks you to come over to study for the final exam. tired of not being able to act on this crush, you turn to isabel for some help in seduction. you attempt a few of her tactics but it seems that hazel doesn’t really seem to be that interested. or so, you think until you’re straight it forward with how you feel.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language, mature content, smut including — oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), hazel being an absolute teasing dom bc i said so, mrs.callahan almost catches reader and hazel but is saved by a locked door, reader does not know how to flirt to save their lives, isabel & josie being cuties and supportive of hazel and reader, no y/n!!!

a/n: i hope everyone enjoys. this is my first time ever writing about a sapphic character so i hope it meets expectations. thank you! :))

word count: 7K (i got extremely carried away)

You and Hazel shared Mr.G’s class. It didn’t take a genius to notice that Hazel was insanely attractive with her mullet rocker hair, insanely sharp cheekbones, and big blue eyes that had you blushing at just the thought. After being assigned partners for the ‘Death of Women in History’ section for Mr.G’s class, you two had got to talking more and more about each other.

First, that Mr.G’s class really made no sense a majority of the time and that you had no idea how he even got hired. Hazel agreed but pointed out that at least it was an easy class. Along with looking cool, Hazel just was so fucking cool. She knew taekwondo, how to build a bomb (you didn’t question why or how she knew how to do that) and how she blew up that douchebag Jeff’s car after cheating on Isabel, who had also become close friends throughout the year, with Hazel’s mom.

You were pretty sure that was extremely illegal but didn’t even have to comment on it to tell that it pissed and disgusted Hazel off beyond belief.

You were surprised to find out that she didn’t have a girlfriend nor had she ever had a girlfriend. This made you more hopeful for a chance with her. You gushed to Isabel as you had been doing all semester about Hazel once class ended.

“Oh my god, you are obsessed with her,” Isabel teased you as you walked down the halls. “You know, if you want, I could for sure give you some tips on how to hint to her that you wanna be more than just friends.”

This made your eyebrows raise in interest. You weren’t really the flirty type in any way. You were the type to repress your crush on someone for as long as you could until it eventually went away. Rejection clouded your confidence as soon as you even considered confessing to your past crushes.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you awkwardly chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “I think we’re good now a-as friends.”

“Is that what you tell yourself when you're jerking off to the thought of her?” Isabel deadpanned causing you to blush.

You whip your head around the halls to see if Hazel or if anyone associated with her was around. You would rather die than have her hear that.

“I told you that happened one time!” You sneered through a whisper at the freckled girl.

Isabel continued to just stare at you unamused at your lies. The two of you approached your locker and there across the way was Hazel wearing a cozy brown sweater and green pants with her low Doc Martens. She was talking to Josie about something you couldn’t quite make out from a distance. Just seeing her made those memories of the many nights you’ve happened to use her as some inspiration to get off.

Many, many nights.

“Okay, a lot more than once but shut up. She is right there.” You sneered at your friend, glancing at Hazel once more before opening your locker to place your textbooks for the day.

As you do, you notice Isabel raise her hands up in defense before ogling at her Josie.

“Now go and talk to your girlfriend. I can see you eye-fucking her from here.” You poke at her gorgeous head of hair with a gag as she hugs you quickly, reminding you to FaceTime her tonight so that you can work out exactly how you could seduce Hazel.

Isabel happily walks over and throws her arms around Josie’s neck to kiss her softly. Hazel visibly grimaced at how heavily the kiss progressed in such a short amount of time before removing herself from their space.

“Hazel, hey,” you call out with a grin, hoping you didn’t scare her.

Hazel sighed out of relief at the sight of you which, of course, made your smitten heart thump.

“Shit, I’m glad I caught you actually. Mr.G’s test is coming up in about a week and I was wondering if you wanted to start coming over to study for it,” Hazel proposed and you felt your throat close up.

“Like a…. study-date?” You question carefully.

Hazel shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Sure, yeah. So tomorrow after school? We can walk to my house.”

You blinked once, trying to process what you already agreed to. You nod with a deep inhale, a nervous smile that you hoped looked normal to your crush for years now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she reached forward to place a hand on your shoulder before walking away.

Your eyes followed her figure as you waited until she completely disappeared in the crowd of students leaving for activities and to go home. You inched forward to Josie and Isabel, lightly tapping on Isabel’s shoulder in a panic. Isabel audibly groaned and detached herself from Josie to look at whoever was tapping her but when she saw you, her face softened.

“What—“

“Hazel just invited me over tomorrow to study for Mr.G’s test. I don’t know what to do. What the fuck do I wear?” You express in a panic, messing with your middle finger ring as a sort of comfort.

Josie raised a finger up and shrugged. “Maybe study? I don't know…” Her voice faded out as her girlfriend then stared at her warningly.

“No, I am coming over tonight,” Isabel removed herself from Josie who just gaped at you and the honey haired woman. “FaceTime is not enough. Bring your best outfit ideas and I’ll help with seduction techniques because, no offense, but you really need it.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Josie interrupted with a grin already forming, “you like Hazel?”

You raised a fist to punch her shoulder and point at her. “Shut up, Josie.”

“Oh my god, babe, you seriously haven’t noticed? She’s jaw dropped and drools every time she’s around.”

“Okay, whatever, jesus. Yes, I do and I’m freaking out right now because I really like her and she’s so fucking hot and not only that, she’s actually a really nice person. God, I want her so bad.” You stress yourself out as you think about how tomorrow evening was going to go.

Isabel glanced at you with a grimace as she understood your struggle. She reached forward to pat your shoulder, not knowing how else to comfort you.

That same night, Isabel made her way over to your place to help you pick out an outfit. The two of you went through every single item in your closet. Isabel gave you one single tip on the clothing options for seduction; cleavage. It should’ve been a given in your eyes but being told it would for sure.

So, deep within the old, thrifted clothes, Isabel found something you completely forgot you had bought on a whim. She pulled out a soft pink cotton dress that was practically lingerie as the boob area was lined with lace.

“Isn’t that too dressy for a study date?” You proposed to Isabel.

“Definitely but it’ll make your tits look amazing.” Isabel emphasized, motioning to your chest.

Did your tits not look amazing on every other day?

So, the next afternoon after the last bell rang, you rushed to the bathroom to change into that said dress, quickly smoothing down the front to lessen the wrinkles from how you shoved it into your backpack. You glanced at your cleavage and Isabel was right about how great your tits looked.

They were a pretty average size but the lace and slight lift on the top area made your confidence rise a bit. Walking out of the bathroom, you spot Hazel leaning on your locker. A black and white zig-zag button up, a black opened vest on top with a medium wash of blue jean and a pair of creme white Converse.

Her chains shine very faintly against her neck which shouldn’t have driven you insane as it did.

You move yourself into her eye-line with a friendly, innocent grin. Hazel’s brows raised in your direction then furrowing at your obvious change in attire.

“Hey, you ready to go?” She asked with slight confusion in her tone.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you nod.

“Oh! I was able to get my mom’s car today so we don't have to walk for, like, half a fucking hour.”

The news caused you to internally sigh in relief. You were wearing Converse which weren’t exactly the most comfortable for walking miles. Plus, you didn’t want to try and seduce your way into Hazel’s heart.

The whole drive was quiet as you, in all honesty, completely forgot about every single thing that Isabel had told you to do. It’s not your fault that Hazel looked ridiculously attractive behind the wheel, driving with one hand gripping the wheel with the windows down.

It looked straight out of a fucking rom-com. You couldn’t help but gawk at the way the wind blew her rocker hair wildly, exposing her sharp cheekbones. The soft melody of a random radio station playing in the background really just made it full circle.

Maybe you could start here and compliment her.

“You look really nice driving,” you blurted out, wanting to vomit already at how fast and loud the words left your mouth.

Hazel’s face twitched in confusion for a moment, glancing over at you with a slight grin.

“Nice?” Her tone was teasing. “Thank you, I think?”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod, embarrassment flooding through your veins.

Yeah, you didn’t say anything else the rest of the drive to her house. Pulling up, you tug the ends of the skirt of your dress down so you don’t flash her. You peaked over at her as she put the car in park, checking her out as discreetly as you could.

Hazel walked around the front of the car to open the door for you as you reached for the handle, catching you off guard. You froze for a still second before flashing her a flirty smile.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” you inform Hazel who had an arm raised and rested on the opened door.

“You’re the guest.” Hazel shrugged with a small grin before adding on, “also, it’s jammed on the child’s lock for some reason so I have to open it from the outside.”

This made your expression falter but you attempted to hide it. You threw your backpack over your shoulder as you stepped out of the car. Hazel moves out of your way to motion towards the front door. Or doors, in Hazel's case.

The walk to Hazel’s room made your heart sink. The confidence that had been waving in and out of your system had fully disappeared into thin air. Hazel strides in front of you, turning a corner to the egg-white wooden door to her room. She opens the door and moves out of the way, again, to let you in first.

“Just make yourself comfortable.”

You haven’t been comfortable since you walked into the house. Hazel sets her backpack down on the ground next to her desks' swivel chair. As she turned around, you tugged the front of the dress down to reveal your cleavage more for her to notice.

This is where it had to begin.

Setting your bag down in the same area, you brushed your hair out of your way and leaned on the desk with one hand. You made sure to make your arm press into the side of her boob to accentuate the front of the dress. Hazel turned to find you there right behind her, eyes widening and blinking once out of surprise of how close in prolixity you had become.

Then, Isabel’s advice came echoing in your mind.

“Compliment the smell of her or her room. Or even both. I know I love when people let me know how good I smell.”

“Hey, you know your room smells really good. It smells like you,” you smile, looking her up and down and leaning in closer. “What is it?”

Her room did, in fact, smell like some sort of fragrance mixture of woody, mahogany, and sage with a hint of lavender. Hazel glanced around the room before her eyes landed right where you had been wanting her to look; right at your tits.

“Uh, thank you. I have no idea. Probably ‘mahogany teakwood’ or some shit like that.”

You nod, mentally noting that. Hazel, then, got out all of the material needed for Mr.G’s class. Shit, you haven't even packed a notebook. Isabel gave you the confidence to assure you that something was going to happen.

Fuck.

Hazel was already getting out different colored pens and pencils, laying them out on her desk. You pretend to look through your bag, faking a sigh and groan as you continue your act.

“Damn it,” you muttered.

Hazel was quick to notice your frantic rummaging before asking, “what’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot to get my notebook so I can’t really study. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re fine,” Hazel reassured, a kind smile on her face. You hated how much it made your head spin. “Here— shit,” she dropped her notebook while handing it to you. The clumsiness made you smile; not making fun but in admiration of how cute she was.

Isabel was painfully right. You were obsessed with everything about her, it was concerning sometimes.

“I got it. Thank you,” you tell her as you bend forward to pick up the notebook from the ground, looking up at her from the ground.

Hazel’s eyes find themselves locked on your cleavage again. She nodded, clearing her throat and twiddling a pencil around her fingers skillfully.

“Yeah, of course.” Hazel smacks her tongue against her teeth. “We should probably… get to it though.”

You nod to yourself, clutching the notebook in a way that has the metal spiral digging into your palm. How were you going to seduce her when she actually wants to study?

“Right, yeah,” you respond, glancing over at her made bed. A thought filled your brain as you pointed to the bed. “Hey, is it okay if we get on the bed? It’ll probably be more comfortable that way.”

Hazel glanced at her bed then at you before nodding without hesitation. “Sure, yeah.”

The tension in the air was indescribable. When you were studying by yourself in your own room, you were usually blasting music on your speaker or in your headphones to the point of everything else around you becoming insignificant. There was complete silence in the room which made you even more nervous to be with Hazel in her room.

The two of you then sit on the bed; Hazel prying off her shoes to sit criss-cross on the bed and you lie down in front of her, one arm holding up your head and the other writing down mindlessly. Hazel actually seemed to be writing and studying while you were just scribbling your name down in different fonts. She had no idea how much you had been zoned out and bored.

That is until after half an hour of ‘studying’, Hazel asked you a question about a topic she was writing about.

“Oh, uh,” you look down at the paper and then back at her.

She was staring at you, waiting patiently for some sort of answer but she glanced at your graphite covered paper to see what you had been doing this entire time you had been here. Embarrassment begins to flood your system as you meet her gaze.

“Have you been writing your name over and over again?”

“Yeah…” You trailed off, having no defense whatsoever. You were bored, on the verge of giving up seducing Hazel. Might as well just tell her the truth. “I’m sorry, Hazel. I… never wanted to really study.”

Hazel chuckled and nodded her head towards the scribbled piece of paper. “Yeah, I noticed but why’d you say yes then? Did you wanna just… hangout or something?”

As you were about to open your mouth to ramble out some stupid love confession, Isabel’s voice echoed in your head.

“If you can’t do the subtle, seductive route, be honest about what you want. Some people hate it when they dance around what they really want to say or do. Be direct.”

You sucked in a deep breath, sitting up so that you were sitting across from Hazel with one leg hanging off of the bed. Your socked foot accidentally nudged her pant leg as you straightened out your back, making sure to keep eye contact with her.

“I want you, Hazel.” You kept your voice clear and lowered a bit to let her know that it was in fact in a sexual manner.

Hazel’s face dropped and you were already conjuring up an ‘it was a joke’ or ‘I’m just messing with you’ until she tilted her head with a smile.

“In a sexual and romantic way,” you emphasized with a grin.

“Is that why you changed into a dress after class?” Her tone was in its usual teasing way.

“What do you mean? I was wearing this all day.” You lied straight through your teeth but your grin gave away that you were being sarcastic.

Hazel just shook her head at you, muttering something under the lines of ‘such a tease’ as she leaned forward to press her lips onto yours. You blushed at both her words and how quick she was to kiss you. Her lips felt gentle and smooth against your own.

You inhaled and picked up a rhythm as she cradled the back of your neck with her hands. You were a bit intimidated by how experienced she was with her movements even though she had told you that she had none. Not that you were calling her a liar but she felt so fucking good.

Your hands awkwardly sat on your lap, not knowing where else to place them. This position made your lower back ache and not in a good way. You pull away from her slick lips, sucking in a deep breath.

“Can I,” you begin but hesitate for a moment. “Can we change positions? I’m sorry. My back is aching.”

You both softly chuckle at your question but it didn’t feel awkward. No, it felt more comfortable than anything. In fact, she shoved all of her school notebooks and pens on the ground with a cheeky grin.

“You can sit on my lap, c’mere.” Hazel scooched up further on the bed so that she was resting with her back against the bed frame, her legs straight out.

You blushed at the sight of her slightly slick and red lips and flushed cheeks. You forced yourself to follow forward and straddle Hazel’s legs. Her hands immediately found your waist, thumbs rubbing at the skin through the fabric.

“I’m not too heavy, right? Like it doesn’t hurt your legs?” You ask softly, placing your hands on Hazel’s shoulders.

“No, no. Trust me, this feels really good.” Hazel makes her point by running her palms up and down your sides than to squeeze at your thighs.

Your skin heats up as you feel her rings indenting into it with her soft grip. To hide your blush, you pull her into another passionate kiss. Your hands find her neck while she holds your waist, slightly rocking them forward. You let out a noise of pleasure as you feel her tongue swipe past your bottom lip.

Hazel began to smile against your lips after the noise left your mouth and she pulled away to then kiss at the skin underneath your jaw. You hum at the feeling of her lips sucking and biting at the skin. The room’s atmosphere was filled with the two of you letting out the gentlest of sensual sounds to egg each other on.

“Hazel,” you whine, rolling your hips into hers desperately.

Hazel detached herself from your neck to glance down at the way you were moving against her. She pecked at your cheek, placing her hands on your hips encouragingly. You noticed this glint in her eye and it was clear to you that she was turned on by how you were trying to get off on her.

“There you go. Just like that. That feels good, yeah?” Her tone raising a little with that stupid fucking smirk on her face.

“Please touch me.” You begged, a wave of desperation falling over you.

Hazel shook her head, obviously taunting your aroused state. “I think you’re doing good right now, pretty girl. Look at you, fuck.”

“Please,” you whispered, leaning forward to capture her lips onto hers.

Hazel pulled away to instead kiss right above your left boob, looking at you through her eyes to make sure you were okay with what she was doing. A slight nod was all Hazel needed to continue her journey down. She uses one hand to move the straps of the delicate dress off your shoulders.

You watch her tug down the top area of the dress to expose your bare chest. You try not to make it known how nervous you were for this. No one has ever seen this part of you and Hazel meant a lot to you in so many ways already. She gently takes them into her palms, a shiver running down your spine at the contact of her cool rings.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Hazel hummed, now looking into your eyes.

It sounded so sincere and kind, you could shed a tear.

“Perfect?” You tilt your head to the side, no humor behind it. There was genuine curiosity if she meant it.

“Yeah, you are,” she pecks your lips once before placing another peck to the top of your tits. “I’m not just saying that because your boobs are in my face, by the way.”

This causes a soft laugh to erupt from your chest, leaning forward to rest your forehead on her shoulder. Her hands rub up and down your back soothingly as she chuckles along with you.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You remove yourself from the comfort of her neck, pushing your hair out of your face.

“It’s okay. I just wanted to let you know that. Make you comfortable.” Hazel held your waist, looking between both of your eyes then your lips.

“I am. I just am really turned on right now.” You take your lip in between your teeth, adjusting yourself to grind once again on her lap.

Hazel took the hint and took one of your nipples in between her lips, sucking and licking on the bud. You gasp softly at the feeling, pushing your chest forward into the warmth of her mouth. You took one hand to brush her hair out of her face, moaning softly.

You were panting at the overwhelming feeling of her lips sucking and kissing at both of your tits and her hands gripping hungrily at your waist. It felt like so much but not enough all at once. You just wanted to be engulfed by this feeling; of Hazel.

“Can I go down on you?” Hazel asks softly, pulling away from your sensitive bud.

Your eyes widened at her words and tried to get out of your lustful haze. Your head felt clouded and not able to focus on anything other than this erotic feeling.

“I—Yeah. You really wanna?” You reply, a wave of both excitement and nerves flooding through your body.

“I really want to. If you’re not comfortable, though, that’s completely okay.” Hazel reassured you, kissing you gently on the lips. “We can keep doing this because trust me, this is really good too.”

You can’t help the smitten smile that spreads onto your lips. You hated how much you loved the bare minimum treatment she was giving you.

“No, I want to. I just— how do you want me?” You stare at her, waiting patiently.

Hazel bit her lip as she thought for a mere second before glancing to the empty space next to her. Hazel cupped your face once again to place a soft kiss to your lips. When she pulled away, you were quick to chase after the addicting taste of her. She pulled back with a teasing grin, moving her hands down to squeeze at your ass once.

“I’m gonna go and lock the door. Lay down for me, okay?”

For me. Fuck, she wanted to send you into cardiac arrest.

You nod and remove yourself from Hazel’s lap to sit down on the mattress. You could feel the wet patch on your underwear now that you were distracted by how your crush for years was sucking on your tits. Hazel rushed to lock the door, pushing her hair out of her face.

When Hazel locked her eyes on your figure on the bed, she sucked in a deep breath as if she was trying to keep her composure. She removed her open vest and her button up so that she was left in her white wife-pleaser and a black sports bra.

You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second in anticipation.

“You are so gorgeous,” Hazel tells you as she approaches the bed once again.

She crawls in between your open legs so that you are face-to-face. You answer by pressing your lips to hers. You crossed your arms around her neck to tug her more onto your body. Hazel moved her lips against yours, moving a hand from your neck to the skirt portion of the dress. She lifted it up so that it was resting around your stomach area to expose your black lace underwear you had worn for this.

Hazel hooked one finger underneath the waistband of the panties to snap it against your soft hips. You gasped at the feeling, in both pleasure and shock. Hazel pushes up on her arms to move down your body. She presses wet and attentive kisses down your chest and makes her way down to the plush of your stomach.

You sucked in out of habit so that you hoped you would appear thinner. You didn’t even realize earlier how exposed you were going to be. Hazel did take notice of the sudden tense feeling on your stomach as she kissed right above the waistband of your underwear.

“Hey, you gotta relax for me, okay?” Hazel mutters to you, hands kneeling into your soft thighs.

You sit up on your forearms to look Hazel in the eyes. “Sorry. I’ve never had anyone down there. I’m sorry if I look bloated or smell down there or—”

“Hey, it's okay. It’s okay. You look beautiful, okay? And as for the smell, its not supposed to smell like fucking vanilla or flowers. Men made that shit a standard because they’re fucking idiots.” Hazel’s words really set in your head as you tried to push away all the negative and harmful words that were telling you weren’t skinny or pretty enough to be doing this with her. “If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t be.”

You nod slowly, watching as Hazel places feather-soft kisses onto your inner thighs. She was so attentive to every single sensitive part of your lower region. She kisses right over that wet spot on your underwear before taking the waistband of your underwear and tugging them down. She flings them somewhere in the corner of her room.

You want to close your legs out of instinct but you hold them open. Hazel leans down onto your pussy, placing a soft kiss onto your clit. Your hips shift at the feeling but you try to keep your composure. She looks up at you as she licks one stripe through your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan softly, chasing her tongue for more.

Hazel continued to move her tongue through your slick folds, her hands gripping onto your thighs to hold you there. Your breathing was heavy and a slight layer of sweat began to form on your hairline and your lower back. The obscene sounds coming from your pussy only encouraged Hazel to pick up her movements.

You ran a hand through her hair as you felt it tickle at your inner thigh. Her eyes locked with yours as she sucked at your clit, waiting for pretty sounds to leave your lips. You whine and rock your hips against her mouth.

“You taste so good, baby,” she breathes against your slick folds. “So fucking good.”

The praise went straight to your core, your naked chest rising and falling as you were overwhelmed by her grip on you and her tongue hungrily moving through your folds. You tried to squirm away as you felt that familiar feeling in your lower abdomen.

Hazel wasn’t letting that happen, though. She slipped her pointer finger into your entrance slowly, lifting her head up to watch your reaction to this new feeling. You nodded at the feeling of something inside of you, jaw dropped as you didn’t realize she had kept her rings on. Feeling incredibly pathetic and needy as you clenched around her finger, you rocked your hips down as if that would make the pleasure increase.

“That feel good, pretty girl?” Hazel’s voice breathy in arousal, pumping her finger with one hand and keeping a tight grip onto your thigh to hold you open.

“More, please. Haze, I need to cum, please,” you begged, not even responding to her question.

Your mind was too clouded with the endorphins releasing from how good she was making you feel. Your hips kept grinding against her, feeling so out of your normal state of mind. Your lips were kiss-swollen and hair was beginning to frizz from the beads of sweat that were forming at your hairline.

“You look beautiful like this. All fucked out for me, honey.” Hazel did as you had begged for, her pointer and middle fingers were now pumping inside of you.

Her hair, too, was frizzing up beautifully from the humid air that had been filling the room. Her chest and cheeks had a gorgeous pink hue to the pale skin from the lust. Her lips and chin were coated with your arousal. How could she be complimenting you when she looked like she came straight out of porno magazine?

“Really? I’m the beautiful one when you look how,” you pant in disbelief, “you do? Fuck, Haze.”

In response to this flirtation, Hazel adjusted so that she was face-to face with you once again and pressed her lips to yours. You moan softly against her at the taste of your own slick on her swollen lips. Hazel’s fingers curled into you to hear those moans that she could have on repeat if it was possible. You pulled away to keep your lips ghosting over one another to breathe heavy moans into your mouths.

“How do I look, hmm?” She taunted, her eyes flickering all around the features of your face.

You whine, trying to kiss Hazel again to avoid answering. She just pulled back, curling her fingers against your g-spot teasingly to purposely drive you insane. You were so fucking close and she’s asking you this now?

And as if things couldn’t go more awry, you hear a rather loud knock on the door.

“Hazel! Is everything alright in there?”

Hazel’s movements freeze for a moment as the realization sets in that her mom is just on the other side of the door. You glance at the door than at Hazel who was heavily breathing along with you.

“Yeah, mom, why? I’m just doing…” Hazel glances at you and smirks for a moment. You roll your eyes as you know she wanted to say your name as a joke. “Homework. Just studying right now.”

Waiting for a response from her mother, Hazel resumed the thrusts of her fingers. She even picked up the pace of her thrusts and you knew it was because of this thrill of almost getting caught. Fuck, and it really wasn’t helping your attraction to her.

You scrunched up your brows at the pressure building in your abdomen as you force the moans itching at your throat back. Hazel had this lustful glint in her eye as she watched your hips sputter as she knew you were so close to cumming. She could feel how much you were clenching and hear the soft ‘please’ and her name falling from your lips.

“Okay, well, I swore I heard someone else in there. Is there someone else in there?”

You almost felt bad for Mrs. Callahan as you were getting finger-fucked by her daughter while she was just on the other side of the door. Almost.

Okay, you didn’t give a fuck.

“Yeah, a friend. She’s helping me study for Mr.G’s final exam.” Hazel borderline shouts back before leaning down to kiss at the underside of your jaw.

“You’re doing so good for me. You’re gonna cum, pretty girl?” You nod, eyes watering from how good she felt and not trusting yourself to speak at the moment. You were whispering and begging for her to make you cum, the build-up becoming overwhelming.

“Did you guys want anything to eat? I can go and get some pizza?”

“Yeah, mom. Sounds good. Pepperoni is great. Okay, love you. Bye.” Hazel rushes out her words.

You reach your hand down to rub at your sensitive clit as Hazel pumps her fingers harder. Hazel moves your hand away to replace your hand with her own, wanting to make you cum on her own. You let out a shaky moan, a string of ‘please’ leaving your lips.

Your hand reaches down in between your legs to grip onto her wrists, trying to push her hands away from the overstimulation. Your back arches and chases the feeling over how hard you were cumming. Your thighs tried to clamp her hands still but she didn’t stop whatsoever, wanting your cum to lather her fingers.

“Haze, please, please. Fuck, right there.” You beg through dry sobs, cumming quicker than you could comprehend.

Your head went numb and your body went weak as shivers ran down your spine. Hazel watched as your hips eagerly chased the high, stuttering as you were slowly coming down from the orgasm.

“There you go, baby. Just breathe. You did so good. So, so good, yeah.” Hazel leaned down to kiss your soft lower stomach, slowly removing her fingers from your cunt.

Hazel refrained from groaning at the sight of your climax dripping out and lathering her fingers and rings. Her main focus was taking care of you right now.

“I need a nap,” you huffed as you raised an arm to cover your forehead.

Hazel chuckled softly, leaning down to place sweet and gentle kisses to your cheeks and then lips. “How about you pee for now and then we could take a nap? I don’t want you to get a UTI or something.”

You nod, agreeing with her. You take a deep breath in and out as you sit up slowly. Hazel watched you carefully as she continued to caress your sides and thighs.

“You have a private bathroom right?” You wonder as you stare at the door you entered from.

If Hazel’s mom was still home, you couldn’t fathom having to interact with her after what had just happened in this room.

“Yeah, it's right next to the closet over there.” Hazel jerked her head to a door that looked identical to the entrance to her room.

You nod as you should’ve seen that earlier. A sudden silence fell over the two of you; almost tense. Do you kiss her? Do you hug her? Do you ‘thank her’? No, thanking her would be so fucking weird.

Just get up and pee, you freak, jesus.

Hazel watched you move your straps back onto your shoulders and covered your tits that she wished she had spent more time on. You get up from the bed, turning your head to flash her a gentle smile, muttering that you would be right back.

“I’ll be here.” Hazel grins, pointing to her bed.

You open the bathroom door with a soft blush, shutting the door behind you. You locked eyes with your reflection and raised a hand to cover your mouth in shock. Your mascara was smudged under your eyes and your lips were a bit puffy and red. And god, your hair was a mess.

You looked fucked out.

You were fucked out.

A part of you wanted to take a photo and send it to Isabel to show her it worked a lot better than you thought it would go. You shook your head and quickly used the bathroom, washing your hands. You dry them off on a towel, trying to keep your composure from flashes of what had just happened.

You adjust the skirt and top to your dress, wiping underneath your eyes to smoothen out the black mascara. You swing open the door to see Hazel sitting on her bed on her phone. She looked up as she noticed the bathroom light turn off and how you were standing silently to yourself.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” She turned her phone off and tossed it to the side, her eyes trailing up and down your body.

“Mhmm. Yeah, just tired, honestly,” you reassure her as you sit down next to her on the mattress.

“Do you want to take that nap now?” Hazel smiled kindly, turning her head to look at the head pillows.

You couldn’t help but smile at her too. Why did she have to be so attentive? Not that you were complaining but god, you couldn’t believe she was even real.

“Maybe not nap but I wanna lay with you, if that’s okay?” Your tone was hesitant as you didn’t know what you guys were going to be after this.

“Like cuddle?” Hazel’s tone was hopeful and kind.

You nod and the next thing you know, Hazel is holding you close with your legs intertwined. One of your hands was on her chest, twiddling with her necklaces while Hazel’s hands were rubbing up and down your back. In the midst of the domestic silence, you pressed gentle kisses onto her neck and she reciprocated the pecks onto your temple.

You could stay here forever.

“Hey Haze?” You murmur onto her skin, watching goosebumps rise to her skin.

Hazel hummed in response.

“Are we, like, dating now?” You avoid looking her in the eye, anxiety clouding your thoughts.

“I have to take you on an actual date but yeah, I want to be.” Hazel shrugged her shoulders, acting cool about it but you could pick up by her tone that she was being genuine.

You purse your lips to hold back the giddy smile, snuggling further into her chest. Hazel cupped the side of your face, pressing her thumb underneath your jaw to tilt your head up and capture your lips into a gentle kiss.

After inhaling the pizza that Mrs. Callahan had bought for you guys, you impulsively decided to spend the night. You and Hazel lazily made out and whispered in the late of the night tangled in her sheets.

The next morning at school, you and Hazel walked in side by side. Your pinkies were just barely brushing against each other and you were wearing one of Hazel’s sweaters with your jeans from before you changed into your seduction dress.

Isabel was waiting by your locker to hear all the details as you refused to text her last night after what had happened. She was talking to Josie, smiling as she listened attentively to whatever her girlfriend was telling her about.

You look at Hazel with a soft smile as you approach Isabel and Josie.

“Ignore how they will act when she sees us together,” you warn Hazel quietly.

Hazel nods, making eye contact with Josie who was already sporting a knowing grin. You deeply inhale as you stop in front of the couple.

“Morning guys.” You politely say, sending Isabel a warning glare.

Her eyes were locked on Hazel behind you, a smile forming on her freckled face. Josie and Isabel both mutter ‘mornings’ back, eyes never leaving Hazel who just stared back with a tight-lipped grin.

“So, you two are coming to school together? How exciting.” Josie bit her lip cheekily as she rocked side to side, the smile never leaving her face.

“Well, you know, I hate polluting the air so saving the environment by just riding together,” you turn around to face Josie, tilting your head with a smile.

Isabel nodded. “Right, so how was that study session guys?”

You and Hazel locked eyes with flushed cheeks as you could still feel her lips on your body. She left a permanent mark on your psyche. Hazel looked down with a smirk, shrugging her shoulders to play it off as if it was a minor occurrence.

“Actually, it was very informative. Exploring lots of new things about women,” Hazel glanced over at you then at Josie and Isabel with a confident grin.

Your eyes widened for a moment, nodding along to her words. You glance at Hazel, wanting to kick her in the shin but you just continue to add on the conversation.

“Yup. Ladies learning about ladies. I love feminism.” You give them a thumbs up.

Isabel’s eyes squinted as she glanced between you and Hazel. Before she could add on another comment that would make you feel even more tense, the bell rang for your first period.

“Shit, I gotta go. I forgot my first period is on the other side of the school.” Hazel rushed out, tightening and adjusting her grip on her bag.

“Oh, I’ll see you later, okay?” You turn to her with a small smile.

You tried not to sound too clingy as you were already missing her presence. Hazel reciprocated the smile before leaning in to connect your lips into a soft kiss. You close your eyes and almost forget where you guys were until you heard a soft ‘oh my god’ that came from Josie.

“Try not to miss me too much, baby,” she mutters against your lips.

You nod, feeling like your brain was short-circuiting. When Hazel pulled away, she turned to the other pair, raising a hand to wave them bye.

“I’ll see you guys.” Hazel walks away with a confident pep in her step as she rounds the corner of the hallway.

Yeah, you were done for. Thank God for Mr.G’s class.

taglist: @ptolemaeacles <33 for you

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #bottoms movie #sapphic #wlw #hazel is cocky as fuck

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ourautumn86 · 9 months

Note

*clears throat* imagine abby telling you to get on your knees so you can eat her out and she still bringing that dom energyyyy (we love that)

awwe yesss, no cause i’d suck all her juices out until she needs to go to the hospital for an iv due to dehydration 😋

eat

abby anderson x fem! reader

cw; +18 content minors dni!, praising, making out sessions, dirty talking, dom! abby x sub! reader, praise kink, oral sex (abby receiving), fingering (abby receiving), hair pulling…

her tongue was pushing into your mouth, her fingers bruising your ass as she thrusted her hips against you. you moaned, spit dribbling down your chin. your panties were so soaked they were sticking to your drooling cunt.

abby groaned when you pulled from her hair, her pussy throbbing with need. she needed your tongue. and she needed it now.

“now, why don’t you be a good girl and get down on your knees for me, baby?” you nodded, eager to please her. she was about to reach for a pillow so you’d be more comfortable as you kneeled on the hard wooden floor, but something deep inside her wanted your knees to hurt, to bruise. her tongue licked her lips when you finally took place at her feet.

she quickly got rid of her sweat shorts and boxers and sat down on the bed behind her, pretty muscular legs all spread for you. your mouth was altering at the sight of her thigh muscles clenching and flexing, in the middle of them her slick covered cunt, glistening with her arousal and luring you in. you wanted nothing more than to clean it all up for her, to bury your face in between her legs and suck at her throbbing clit, to have your head squished in between those thighs that you had rode so many times.

“eat.” she ordered, and you obeyed, your hands landing on her legs as your lips pressed against her pussy. she groaned, one of her veiny and big hands gripping at your hair, thrusting against your tongue, which now lapped at her sweet slick. you moaned at the taste, eating her like a woman starved as you looked into her eyes, tongue slowly dragging up her folds. abby liked it messy, so that’s why you dirtily made out with her cunt. “that’s it. atta fucking girl.” she grunted. “so fucking dirty… i bet you love it, hm? you love it when i use that pretty mouth of yours, don’t you baby? using you to cum all over your face?” you nodded, whimpering as you sucked on her clit. she pushed you further against her, groaning. “of course you do…” her other hand pushed away the hair that had fallen on your face to fully see you. nothing turned her on more than watch you as you became pussy drunk.“use your fingers.” she once again ordered, and you followed, pushing your middle finger inside her tight gummy walls, feeling them clench around you. you continued to suckle on her clit, your tongue driving her insane as you pumped your finger in and out of her cunt. “that’s it. oh fuck. so good…” she moaned, and you added another, curling them to tease her g spot.

you moaned at her groan, fucking your fingers faster in and out of her pussy, feeling her walls tighten at the nearing of her orgasm.

“fuck princess. just like that. i’m gonna cum.” she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut and eyebrows knitting as pitiful needy moans left her lips, getting higher and higher as you sucked on her clit and curled your fingers until she finally was gushing on your mouth. you drank it all up, whimpering at the feeling of abby bucking her hips against your face as she rode her orgasm, grunting as you felt her walls twitch and clench around your fingers.

when she was finally done and over sensitive, she pulled you away from your hair, taking a look at your glazed over eyes, sticky lips and chin and flushed cheeks. you looked absolutely fucked out, pussy drunk on her cunt and cum. you pulled your fingers out of her, hearing her grunt and groan when she watched you suck on them to clean yourself up.

she then pulled you up on a kiss, pushing her tongue in between your lips to taste herself in your mouth.

“you did so good baby…” she praised you, making you moan. “so good i can only return the favor, don’t you think?” she inquired, and soon enough her hand was cupping your cunt.

hope y’all liked it🩵

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 7 months

Text

Ghost liking you in special jewellery

so fucking nsfw

pairing: l.t. Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader (cod mw)

tags/tw: afab!reader, dirty talk, butt-plugs, smut, not really explicit but still kinda public teasing

a/n: uhm, somehow I just started imagining Ghost absolutely adoring his partner wearing those jewelled but plugs just because it makes you look oh so cute🫣

Simon 'Ghost' Riley MASTERLIST

nsfw

-like, it was never a secret you love when Ghost gropes your ass, big strong hands massaging the flesh, neither that he loved grabbing at any part of your body, especially your ass

-it's just nice when he does, making you feel desired as he physically can't keep his hands off of you for long, and he just likes it because it makes him feel grounded and he likes seeing how amazingly reactive you're to his touch

-then you both find out you don’t mind Ghost teasing that puckered hole of your ass

-it happened after that one time when he accidentally let his thumb slip over your back entrance as he intended to push your lower back down during doggy, hand gliding from gripping the flesh of your rear and up over the curve of it and then just .... yeah

-you were caught off-guard, moaned in surprised pleasure at the fleeting touch

-of course, Ghost noticed it hadn't been an entirely uncomfortable sound you'd released, and delicately repeated the teasing and light movement, only to spur the same sound again

-the pillow talk following that session had you incredibly more flustered than normally as he asked about it

-although you managed to talk about the newly discovered thing, neither of you really desired to go the full way, Ghost large enough he never skipped foreplay and needed to prep you before each time you had sex despite it being months into your relationship

-STIL, it turned out that you did like the exhilarating feeling of Ghost teasing you like that

-somewhere down the road, you scrolled on some sex website, wanting to buy some condoms and lube and just happen to get stuck on a pretty beginner's butt plug with a glimmering jewel

-without much thought, you added it to the cart

-imagine Ghost’s shock when he’s the one picking up the package and opens it, only to find the bejewelled plug, even more, so the first time he works it into you and fucks you as he stares at it and he feels something hot course through it

-he would go fucking feral, you were usually so pretty in jewellery but somehow you were even prettier now with the moans spilling from your lips as he teasingly pushed against the jewel to feel it nudge through the thin walls to where his cock pushed into your absolutely sopping hole

-FUCKING IMAGINE THIS MAN WANTING YOU TO WEAR IT WHILE YOU GO OVER TO YOUR FAMILY FOR A DINNER

-the whole getting ready together needed to be done twice as he leaves your hair dishevelled and his shirt wet around the wrist after fingering you for being so good to him as he slips the plug inside you

-he would be so smug the whole evening, noticing how you shift, favouring to lean more on one side than the other, legs crossed, all to keep some of your weight of what’s hidden beneath the innocent-looking dress

-he would definitely join you in the kitchen once you finish helping your mother dish off the table, offering that he could take over her role and let her rest sweet talker Riley initiated, receiving endless indirect praise from your mother as she gushes what a man you've found to you as she wanders into the living room where you dad is

Though smiling at her until she disappears, you were suspicious of Ghost's intentions, only to be proven right when rather than fetching the desserts from the fridge, he circles his arm around your waist. 'Does your daddy know his little princess likes jewels up her arse when she gets fucked? ’ As the whispered words curl over your ear, his hand slide down the curve of your ass, making you straighten. The once cold but now body-temperature metal inside you was all the more noticeable even if Ghost didn’t toy with it like he loved to do while having you bent over in front of him. ’Simon, behave’, you scolded him in a hushed voice, starting to regret that you let him convince you to do this. His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he chuckled. ’Don’t play shy now, lovie, you didn’t seem to mind one bit when I worked it into you earlier' . Your hand shot to his thigh, nails digging into the meaty muscle as Ghost cheekily slipped his hand to brush beneath your rear, fingers spreading wide as he pushed his palm up, jostling the plug nestle inside you. Your head snaps to the side to look over your shoulder, all of a sudden worried either of your parents had entered the kitchen again without you noticing. 'You said you wouldn’t tease', the sentence was whiny, rushed, as you looked at him now, a slight scowl on your features despite neither your mother nor father standing stunned in the doorway. ’Impossible to when knowing what a pretty sight will greet me when we get home'. Ghost wasn't sorry at all, only a devilish smirk meeting you as he spoke in a husky voice. 'I can very well leave you high and dry once we get home'. 'Getting feisty? Hm?' There’s a dark glint in his eyes as he leans down to your ear after licking his lips. 'We both know you’ll be dripping once we get back, dirty fucking girl getting off on having matching jewellery around her neck and inside her that no one but I know ’bout”. He presses a kiss to your bare shoulder a your mouth falls open, as if the gentlemanly action would soothe the burning desire he ignited in you and leaves you with as he pulls away, retrieving the dessert your mother raked earlier during the day.

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itsmealaiah · 3 months

Note

HIIII I LOVE UR WRITING SO HERES MY REQUEST🧌

Billy fucking the (female) reader and degrading her ‘cause she talked with some random guy at the supermarket. HE WAS JEALOUS. Mad jealous. THANKSSSSSSA❣️❣️❣️

🤭 yes thank you for requesting ❤️

Fucking apologise

(not my gif 🫶)

pairing: 2015 bill x fem (im in love with this era 😭)

synopsis: when bill sees reader talking to an old friend by coincidence at a supermarket when reader are both shopping, he gets pissed off, and fucks the living shit out of reader until reader apologises.

MDNI ⚠️ tags/ warnings: smut, p in v, harsh dom! bill, degradation, dirty talk, begging, cursing, head (slightly; f receiving), usual smut features here 😏, slut shaming, use of the word wh0re

a/n: i actually hate tests

f/n means friends name (i hope 😗)

Your POV:

"Bill does this look good to you?" I ask, holding fruit up for him to see., examining it, trying to decide if it was ripe or not. "Hmm, yeah it looks okay, put it in the cart" He replies, and walks away to get more of the items, leaving me all by myself, strolling through the aisles of food when I see someone oddly familiar, perusing the shelves of items. I get a closer view, and recognize him, the angle of his face making me able to identify who he is. My old friend from primary school, f/n. I gasp, and he turns around, a smile building on his lips. "y/n! I haven't seen you in so long! How have you been?" He asks, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug, the air escaping my body. "I've been good" I gasp once again, trying to relieve myself from his grip. "oh! sorry" he apologises, letting go. "didn't mean to hurt you" he says, his smile fading. "nono, it's okay, just took me by surprise, thats all" I pass him a light smile, showing him it was okay.

"That's good, so what are up to these days?" he questions, leaning onto the handle of his cart. "Not much, I met someone" I say, and he oo's. "Who?" He asks, and I blush. "you might know him, I think he went to our school when we were little" I face down on the ground. "I might, tell me more" I think for a moment, trying to remember the features of bill when we were younger. Black hair, loose clothing, and a sweet attitude even when people were bullies to him. "Bill kaulitz? that ring a bell? His hair was always messy, but it looked so adorable" I gushed. "Ohh! Him! I remember him! He was always so kind to me" His smile grew bigger. "Yeah, we've been dating for about three years now" my face reddens, and f/n laughs. "you must really love him, huh?" He questions, and I nod. "mhm" I mumbled. "Y/n!" I hear someone call, sounding like bill? His footsteps make their way down the aisle, one of his hands resting on my shoulder. "Who's this?" He asks, gazing down at me.

"I'm f/n, nice to meet you! y/n was just telling me how great of a person you are" He says with a bright smile. Bill only nods, a small 'mhm' leaving his mouth. "He was my old friend from primary school, I haven't seen him in forever" I look at bill, a frown lying on his face. My heart sinks at his facial expressions, knowing he must be mad. "Y/n said you went to school with us" f/n tries to lighten up the conversation, drifting my attention away from bill. "She was blushing so hard when she mentioned your kindness" He laughed, slapping my arm playfully. Bill didn't respond, his face only darkening in what seemed to be anger. "Well it was nice to see you again" I laughed nervously, taking the cart and bill away to another aisle. "What the fuck was that?" He hissed, eyes blazing with hate. "Just a friend" I murmured, picking up an item and placing it in the cart.

"Just a friend?" He chuckles darkly, his hand grasping my arm so im facing him, seeing the absolute, pure jealousy swimming in his eyes. "Yes!" I exclaim, pulling myself away along with the cart to the checkout. He follows suit, mumbling curses under his breath as the person working slides the groceries under the scanner one by one, watching them intently, waiting for them to finish. "Your total is fifty-five-seventy" the woman states, clicking on the screen in front of her. I put my card into the keypad, and we get out of the store, bill lurking behind, his hand on my waist. "When we get home, you're gonna fucking wish you never talked to f/n" He snarls, opening the car door and steps in while I place the groceries in the backseat.

"Bill!" I screamed while his tongue dug into my clit even more, more than what seemed even humanly possible, my hands on the edge of ripping the crisp, white bedsheets as I bucked my hips up near his face as he happily licked up all the juices leaking out of my aching pussy. "mmph, please bill, s'too much!" I moaned, while his fingers explored my folds, rubbing small circles. "Pleas-agh!" choked sobs left my lips as he continued, his nose sometimes nudging over the spot that made me melt. His tongue piercing was heavenly, the coldness of the metal up against the heat of my core was a mix of pleasure and pain. My orgasm was slowly creeping up, the knot forming in my lower stomach, as my cries echoed through the room. "Bill! gonna- c-cum!" I slurred, my words jumbling over each other.

He pulled away, and I whined. "Come back! Please!" I begged, trying to reach up for him, but he pushed my hands down back to my sides. "Shut the fuck up, you think you deserve to cum? After what you did?" He laughed meanly. "You don't deserve shit" He grabbed my jaw so I was looking into his eyes. I was about to roll over, to try and sleep, when he pinned me down, arms surrounding the sides of my head. "Listen, you little slut, you're gonna cum when I say so" he lifts one arm so its resting on my jaw once again, staring straight into my fearful and fucked out-eyes. "and only when I say so, you got that you whore?" He demands. "Please" I sigh, too desperate for him, to return to pleasuring me and my body.

He tears off his remaining clothes, revealing his hard erection, pre-cum leaking from the reddened tip, my mouth wide open. He strokes himself slowly, and I gasp. "Like what you see you little whore?" He grins wickedly, rubbing the head of him against my soft folds, making me whimper, the teasing too fucking much to handle. "Bill-Oh!" I cry out, his hands grabbing hold of my hips, as he pounded in and out, my body rocking from the force of his dick, sliding from my body never fully, and thrusting back in each time. "Fucking slut" He pants, lips beginning to work at my neck, marks consuming the skin as he bites the flesh, tugging it with his teeth. "who's the one who only can make you feel like this?" He demands, slowly up just a bit. "Y-you" I whine. His cock brushes up just right near the spongey spot again, whorish moans exiting my mouth.

He pulls away from my neck, and I see his face, lips swollen and pink, his eyes half-open, the way his chest is heaving up and down fastly, making me nearly cum right then and there. I snap out of my trance as he fills me up fully again, his hips rocking against mine, small little marks sure to form there as well. "Taking me so well my slut" he whispers, leaning down to my ear. "Cumming!" I yell for the second time. "Not yet" He growls, slapping my thigh. I wince, my eyes momentarily shutting. His cock begins to twitch, signaling he's on the verge of bliss as well, as he falters just for a second.

"mm-cumming, cum with me baby" he utters, low and sultry, the ropes of his cum filling my insides, as I cry out, arching my back. "Cum, now" he whispers, still inside of me. I oblige, my release consuming my entire being, my legs shaking from the thunderous force as I cum on his dick and lower abdomen. I fall weak against the pillows, and bill pulls out, grabbing some tissues to wipe me up. "you sorry?" he asks, eyes blazing with a hint of anger, and i nod. "wise answer" he lies down next to me, plopping down with a sigh as he closes his eyes, arms finding my waist, forcing me into his close embrace as I struggle to grasp sleep.

He snuggles his head into my chest, little noises of thanks spewing out from his mouth. I close my eyes, praying that I fall asleep, and soon enough I do. However, the thought of bill being so possessive keeps ringing back in my head. Do I really want a boyfriend who's always jealous?

#bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #itsmealaiah #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x reader smut #bill kaulitz x you

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kuzann · 4 months

Text

The Last Letter

@schnuffel-danny approached me with a delightful premise for a Vlad/Jack fic and here's the result! 💜 Had an absolute blast writing this!

Also on Ao3!

Summary

Vlad at last receives a love letter from Jack that was written long ago and realizes he might have to change a few things...

The Fic

Vlad was trying, he really was. Maddie had told him that if he wanted to get on her good side he would have to get along with Jack. She’d already wrung several apologies out of him for his past interactions with her, which he’d gladly given once she was direct about it; clearly his past approach wasn’t working anyway, it wasn’t worth sinking any further effort into regardless and she’d provided a potential path forward for him. Hanging around with Jack was worth a try, since nothing else had worked. And he was trying.

But toxic associations and bad memories meant that getting close to Jack was like trying to cozy up to a cactus.

Jack was on board the moment Vlad asked if he wanted to spend some quality time together, even to the point of canceling all other plans for such days just to make sure they had no need to rush. He doted on Vlad like a lovesick teenager, overflowing with compliments and enthusiasm for anything Vlad was presently interested in. The whole thing turned Vlad’s stomach. He hadn’t liked it from the merciful distance he’d maintained before and he liked it even less up close.

It felt... Fake, coming from Jack. Twenty years of radio silence and suddenly Vlad was one of the most important people in Jack’s life now that he was worth something. ‘Fairweather friend’ would be the appropriate, least-vulgar term. Vlad wasn’t born yesterday. He knew how these things went.

A distant part of Vlad wondered if this was how Maddie saw him and made a mental note to stamp out any similar behavior when he noticed it. He was supposed to be better than Jack, after all. More refined, less of a clown.

Supposed to be. These days he got the sneaking suspicion that he was more like Jack than he wanted to admit, and it bothered him to no end. He would have to take a day to make sure those suspicions were only that, and to make changes if they proved true. Take stock, ask ‘is this something Jack would do?’ and then act accordingly.

Today’s hangout was thankfully out of the public eye, down in the FentonWorks lab. Unfortunately that didn’t stop Danny and his friends from wandering through, and even now Jack was gushing about Vlad to the three of them. Vlad was only half-listening as he tried to fight the embarrassed blush that was settling over his face and ears.

The second-hand embarrassment was almost too much to bear at times. Why couldn’t Jack just be normal about this? Did he really think Vlad was stupid enough to fall for such tricks? That assumption alone was an insult to Vlad’s intelligence. He had to be after something, there was no possible explanation other than that.

“Yeah, that’s great, dad,” Danny said quickly, before Jack had a chance to launch off into another Vlad-related tangent; he’d undoubtedly intended to keep an eye on the two, only to be roped into Jack’s nonsense the moment he’d been spotted. “Are you guys gonna finish up soon or what?”

Jack chuckled. “We can’t stop now, we’re on a roll! We’ve almost got this new invention all figured out, right Vladdie?” He pulled Vlad into an abrupt side-hug.

Vlad barely kept a lid on the sudden flare of anger at being touched without permission. “Yes, indeed we have,” he said, after a pause that stretched just a little too long.

Danny gave him a suspicion-filled squint but didn’t interrupt.

“That’s right! Once the Buster-Vack is operational we’ll be cleaning out the ghost infestation in this town in no time at all!” Jack said proudly.

“Dad, don’t you already have a ghost-fighting vacuum?” Danny asked. “You know, the Fenton Weasel?”

“Now Danny, it’s not like they’ll do the same thing. The Fenton Weasel sucks up ghosts, but the Buster-Vack will drain the energy right out of them and store it for use somewhere else! Much more useful!”

“Yeah, I’m sure Vlad’s gonna find a real great use for it, huh?” Danny shot a pointed look at Vlad.

“Well it could be used to charge devices that require ecto-energy to run, certainly,” Vlad said, not rising to the bait. “But that does require that we get it working first.”

“Right you are, V-man!” Jack said, giving Vlad a back-slap that would’ve sent a weaker man to the floor. “Let’s get back to it!”

~~~

In the end they made little progress on the Buster-Vack. They’d gotten hung up on the present problem of how to peel the energy off whatever ghost it was aimed at without just taking the whole ghost—there was a certain dimensionality that had to be tuned just so—and had decided to sleep on it once Maddie came down and asked them if they wanted dinner. Vlad had excused himself, unable to stomach much more of Jack’s presence, and gone home for the night.

Vlad only realized how exhausted he was after he got through his front door. He sighed, and considered whether he wanted to bother with dinner or not. An early bedtime was looking quite attractive, and eating would mean he’d have to stay up longer to avoid indigestion.

He started toward the kitchen regardless; whether he was going to have dinner or not didn’t matter when there were cats to feed. They appeared like a pair of pale shadows as he neared the kitchen, giving him burbling happy meows of greeting and inevitably getting under his feet in that special way cats did. He picked up each in turn and gave them a little kiss on the head; Maddie only half-tolerated it and immediately tried to clean the top of her head when he put her down while Marty simply purred.

His mind inevitably wandered back to the situation with Jack as he prepared their food.

He was trying. It should’ve been getting easier. He’d been doing this for weeks and he was still just as exhausted now as when he’d first started hanging out with Jack again.

Why was it still so hard to just be around him?

Because he hurt you, abandoned you, and then never even did the bare minimum of apologizing for it, his inner voice replied. Some days he wondered if Maddie’s esteem was even worth this. He’d suffered for years because of Jack, and the man just pretended nothing had even happened between them! Was he supposed to forgive and forget? Brains didn’t work that way! Humans didn’t work that way! Why was he having to do so much when Jack hadn’t even said such a simple phrase as ‘I’m sorry’?

In the end Vlad decided to go to bed without dinner. He’d only end up wandering in endless angry thought-spirals if he stayed up, and that was simply a waste of time. Better to reset, avoid Jack tomorrow, and try to recuperate.

~~~

This time Vlad waited a few days before approaching Jack again. He gave Vlad that puppy dog smile of his when he found him at the front door and immediately took him down to the lab where the Buster-Vack was still waiting. They would be able to pick up right where they left off.

“Why did you even call it that?” Vlad asked after a half-hour of batting calculations back and forth. No matter how much time he’d dedicated to puzzling over the name he hadn’t been able to figure it out. “Shouldn’t it be called, oh, the Fenton Specter Buster or something like that?”

“Well it made sense to put both our names on it,” Jack said with a grin.

Vlad gave him a blank stare. “Huh? But it doesn’t have our names on it—”

“Sure it does! The Vack part! V-A-C-K.”

“Oh, so just half of my name and most of your name?” Vlad asked, a little more snippily than he’d meant to. Only half an hour in and he was already feeling tired.

“Well I had to keep it sounding like ‘vac’, and there’s no ‘l’ or ‘d’ in vacuum,” Jack said matter-of-factly.

There’s no ‘k’ in vacuum either! Vlad thought, but he stopped just short of saying it aloud. He forced himself to drop the matter and returned to his set of calculations.

A few minutes passed in blissful silence before Jack spoke up again. “I missed working with ya, V-man. I’ve been having a blast with you lately,” Jack said with a warm smile.

Vlad’s patience was already paper-thin. That apparent lie or supreme bout of forgetfulness was enough to tear it in half. “Missed me?” Vlad muttered, partially to himself. “I don’t believe you.”

Jack stopped his math scribbles and looked up at Vlad, the smile dropping from his face. “What?”

Vlad didn’t meet his eye right away. He was at a crossroads: make something up and convince Jack that he’d misheard, or tell him the truth. Jack would be more than happy to take the lie, Vlad knew that very well, but the truthful option… Well, that might get him thrown out, but at least it might put a stop to this exhausting dance they’d been doing for weeks. If Jack really wanted Vlad to believe in him then he could prove it.

“I don’t believe you,” Vlad said, louder and more clearly this time, though he still didn’t look up at Jack.

Jack stared at him, absolutely dumbfounded. “But why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Jack,” Vlad said sarcastically, making a show of pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. “Maybe it’s the fact that you left me to die and then never bothered to reach out to me in the entire twenty years we’ve been apart.”

“But the letters—”

“What letters?” Vlad snapped. “I never got a single one from you or anyone else.”

“They never got to you?” Jack surged to his feet and moved to take Vlad’s hand.

Vlad stepped back and out of reach. “Oh, what? Did they conveniently get lost in the mail? So you can claim you sent them without giving any proof?”

“They all came back,” Jack replied. “I still have them.”

That was enough of a surprise to derail the rising anger that had taken hold of him. He’d been expecting a convenient lack of proof on Jack’s part. “Show me,” Vlad said.

The house had a subtle spin to it as Jack led him through it. To think Jack had been trying to reach out after all... No, he wouldn’t believe it before he saw proof. He would not be tricked by Jack’s fake friendship again.

Jack led Vlad upstairs, to a hall closet near the master bedroom. He reached into the very back, behind the extra blankets and sheets, and dragged a decently-sized cardboard box out of the depths. “I had to hide them,” Jack admitted sheepishly as he set the box on the floor between them. “Maddie already threw away the ones she sent, I kinda worried she’d do the same to mine.”

Vlad said nothing and knelt beside the box. A light chill from anticipation settled into his fingertips as he looked down at it.

The box had been closed by folding the flaps under each other, suggesting that Jack hadn’t intended to store it for long periods of time. Jack pulled them open and revealed that it was full almost to the top with old letters.

Vlad slowly selected one at random and checked the postmark: November 15th, 1983. Two years after the accident. He’d been stuck in that government medical facility for four years after it happened...

His head was swimming a bit now. He turned the letter over and started to open it.

In his peripherals he noticed Jack stiffen slightly and reach into the box to take one of the letters. Vlad continued as if he hadn’t noticed. Idiot, he really must’ve considered Vlad to be an oblivious fool if he thought he wouldn’t spot him.

Jack did his best to discreetly slip the letter under a set of folded sheets. It would be easy enough for Vlad to retrieve later as long as Jack didn’t get a chance to move it. All he had to do was wait a little bit and take it once Jack wasn’t paying attention.

Vlad slid the present letter out of its envelope—this one had been written inside of a blank card decorated with a picture of a forest in autumn on the front—and read through it. The letter was brief, unmistakably penned in Jack’s blocky and direct handwriting, and split between news from Jack’s personal life and pleas that Vlad come back to them if he could.

So here it was, the box full of proof that Jack had not forgotten him. At least at first.

Without a word Vlad slid the card back into its envelope and folded the seal flap under its bottom counterpart. “I’m surprised,” he said, finally.

“You can take them home if you want. They were meant for you,” Jack said, shifting a little awkwardly on his knees. Whether his unease was from the delicate emotional matters at hand or because of the letter he’d just hidden Vlad couldn’t say. “I don’t really understand what happened. We thought you were sending them back...”

“Whoever handled the mail at the facility must’ve returned them before they got to me,” Vlad said, his voice sounding distant in his own ears. Yes, that did make sense. Why would they bother letting him get correspondence from the outside? It would be easier to simply send them back. They were both lucky that said person had decided to return them at all rather than disposing of them.

Vlad put the letter back, a pall of exhaustion settling over him. “I don’t feel well,” he said. “I think I’m going to head home for today.”

“Do you want to take them?” Jack offered again.

“Yes, I’ll take them,” Vlad replied slowly. Along with the one you tried to hide, he added silently.

Jack folded the flaps of the box under each other again to hold the top shut and passed it to Vlad, then led the way back down the hall.

Vlad followed, sending an invisible duplicate back to the closet as he did so. The letter was there under the sheets, and addressed to him when he checked the front. Now why had Jack wanted to hide this one? He would have to find that out once he got home.

~~~

The box of letters sat on Vlad’s desk with the previously-concealed letter on the tabletop before him. Vlad picked it up and turned it over in his hands. It seemed normal enough as far as letters went, and a quick comparison to the dates on the topmost letters revealed that it had been the final one Jack sent. August 10th, 1984 said the postmark. Jack had sent it a few months after he and Maddie were married.

Vlad took his little sword letter opener and cut the seal flap. The letter within was written on stationary paper this time, its edges decorated with pale blue clouds. It was... Worn, somehow. Like it had been folded and unfolded and smoothed out multiple times before finally being sealed within its envelope. Something had smudged the blocky handwriting of this one too; perhaps Jack had gotten a bit sloppy with food or drink while writing it. That would be just like him.

Vlad, I really miss you. It’s just not the same without you here. It hurts every time I think about you being gone, I can’t find the right words for it. Please come home. We’ll help you out with any medical bills you have, no matter how long it takes.

From this point on, the writing became noticeably more sloppy, requiring many white-out corrections to stay coherent and more portions that had simply been scribbled out and left behind, looking like partially-smashed insects on the page. Words compressed on the right side of the paper where Jack ran out of room and tried to fit too long a word on too short a line. The stains from water droplets were also more numerous here.

My life’s just not complete with you gone. I miss your laugh and your lips smile and how we used to talk and how close we used to be. I miss holding you in my arms hugging you. I hope you’re doing okay. I hope you’ll be cured soon. I’m sorry I hurt you. I was stupid. I should’ve listened to Maddie. I should’ve made sure you were safe before turning it on.

The next paragraph had been blotched out entirely with a felt-tip pen. Vlad glared at it and turned the letter over; Jack used a lot of pressure when he wrote by hand, and the paper was thin enough that Vlad might be able to read the impression of the letters on the other side. The reading was slower, for obvious reasons, but the hidden paragraph was plain as day:

I’d marry you too if I could. I don’t know if Maddie would be okay with that. I know the government wouldn’t let us. I wish you could be part of my family that way.

Vlad stopped reading. It was suddenly hard to breathe. He carefully placed the letter on his desk and stood, swaying a little as his head spun from the confession.

Jack... Wanted to marry him? How long had he felt that way? They’d been close back in college, sure—far closer than even best friends tended to be—but he never suspected that Jack would want...

He was coming unmoored. It was a strange, empty feeling. Like something had hollowed out his skull and chest cavity, making him weightless.

Vlad picked up the letter again, his fingers cold and clumsy and clammy, and read the final part.

I love you, and I miss you every day. I hope you’re doing okay. Please write back. Love, Jack

Again Vlad set the letter aside. He braced both hands against the desktop and took a deep breath. Then another. The cold weightless feeling refused to go away, and thoughts came and went at a meandering pace.

Jack... Loved him... In the same way he loved Maddie.

Did he still—

Vlad stopped the thought before it could go further. No… He had to think about this. Jack had tried to hide the letter from him earlier, and the confession had been crossed out before the letter was sent. A momentary miscalculation on Jack’s part, quickly hidden once common sense got the chance to set in.

Another part of him asked: But why send it like this? Jack could’ve rewritten the letter with this one as the rough draft, avoiding any possibility of the crossed-out sections being read.

Laziness was the simplest answer. Yes, that would be it. Jack wanted to make the gesture but was too lazy to properly go about the execution. He didn’t really mean it...

Vlad glanced over the box of letters again.

But he had indeed been writing to Vlad. He hadn’t forgotten, as Vlad had been so sure he did over the past two decades.

The letter even had an apology, something he’d wanted so desperately from Jack all along...

Vlad wished he could believe it. But he’d been hurt too badly to trust Jack again. At least, not without additional proof...

The cold, hollow feeling still hadn’t gone away.

He picked up the letter and carefully returned it to its envelope. Vlad needed time. Perhaps this was still too little too late to change things, but regardless... He had been wrong about Jack, at least in part. That was a revelation that needed proper time to sink in.

~~~

Danny looked over the mess of sheets and blankets and then back up at his dad again. Jack still hadn’t noticed him, being too busy turning the closet inside out as he looked for something.

“Uh, dad?” Danny said.

Jack yelped and jumped up so suddenly that he immediately tripped on a half-folded blanket and sat down hard on the floor. “Danny! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” he said once he caught his breath.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh well I uh...” By the pause Danny knew his dad was about to give him a lie, and a hasty one at that. “I hid some snacks in here yesterday and was trying to find them but wouldn’t you know it, they’ve gone missing!” Jack declared, only managing half of his usual confidence. “Guess someone else found them.”

So the location was probably accurate, but the thing he was looking for wasn’t. And Vlad had been visiting just yesterday too... “Well good luck finding who did it,” Danny said; it wasn’t worth trying to get a straight answer out of his dad when he was so determined to lie like this, but Danny already had a good idea of who might be the cause of this situation. He started back down the hall, only to pause after a few steps. “Oh yeah, dad?” Danny said as he turned back to him.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget to clean that up,” Danny said, pointing at the mess of sheets and blankets strewn in front of the closet. He then dashed down the stairs before Jack had the chance to ask him to help.

Danny found cover a little ways down the street from FentonWorks and transformed. Time to see what Vlad was playing at.

~~~

The mansion was quiet when Danny arrived. He phased through the nearest wall, then drifted through the library and into Vlad’s office.

Vlad was at his desk, eyes closed as he rested his chin on his interlaced fingers. He looked tired, melancholic; the usual smirk he wore whenever he dealt with Danny was nowhere to be found, and the shadows under his eyes were darker than usual. After a few moments passed opened his eyes and looked up at Danny. “What do you want, Daniel?” he asked, his tone sharp but lacking energy.

“Did you steal something from my dad yesterday?” Danny asked, arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at Vlad. He couldn’t help the curiosity over Vlad’s current state, however much the man annoyed him, but he kept that question in reserve for the time being.

“I did not,” Vlad replied simply.

Danny noticed the worn and marked-out letter that was even now open before Vlad and drifted a little closer to look at it.

Vlad put a hand over it and pulled it closer to himself. “Don’t you know it’s rude to read someone else’s mail?” he snapped.

“What, did you get bad news from home?” Danny asked. “Did papa Dracula write to say he’s disappointed in you?”

“Both of my parents died years ago,” Vlad replied, his voice completely flat.

The reply knocked Danny completely off-balance. “Oh uh. Sorry for your loss,” he said weakly.

“Now if you have nothing else to pester me about...” Vlad said. “I ask that you leave.”

~~~

Vlad tried to return to business as usual. Work on his own inventions, research various artifacts of the Ghost Zone, take care of human-world business dealings...

At every step the letter and the questions it raised haunted him. Not the hauntings he’d grown so used to, as a result of dealing with real ghosts for twenty years, but the ones found in rumor and urban legend. The ones you read about in tales by the old horror masters. Quiet and subtle most of the time, only to loom out of the shadows to claw at him when he least expected it.

A text from Jack interrupted Vlad’s routine stock market research, asking how he was doing. Vlad gave a quick ‘I’m fine’ in return and set his phone aside. He’d only just gotten Jack out of his mind, and there he was barging right in again. Typical.

Vlad sat back in his chair, chin resting in one hand, and stared at the far wall for a time. He hadn’t gone through the other letters yet. Their mere existence was enough of a statement for now, and he didn’t have the stamina for another shock like the final one had given him.

Twenty long years of hate were not so easily dissipated, but the existence of the letters gave a certain hollowness to it all. It was the abandonment that had cut deepest back then. The fact that Jack didn’t even have the decency to try to fix the damage he’d done, that he’d just tossed Vlad aside like a broken toy once he’d become too much of a burden.

So Vlad had thought. And how could he think otherwise? It was a perfectly reasonable conclusion to come to from where he’d been sitting.

But that conclusion had been wrong in the end. Part of it, at least. There was nothing to stop Jack from trying to reach out once Vlad escaped that wretched facility and started making a name for himself. He hadn’t even tried, and Vlad knew Jack couldn’t be so under a rock that he would’ve missed some of the strides Vlad was making back then.

So why? Had he written all those letters, just to forget Vlad in the end anyway? That might be worse than what Vlad had assumed for all these years.

He had to know, even as he dreaded the answer. From the beginning he’d thought himself justified in his enmity toward Jack, in his schemes and attempts at revenge, all because of the harm Jack had done to him. But the letters... The love confession... Threatened to change that, threatened to cast Vlad’s past actions in a new, uglier light. The thought brewed a dull feeling of nausea deep in his stomach. Things would have to change if the letter was true.

Perhaps if he’d confronted Jack years ago they could’ve settled things between them, perhaps even mended their friendship and again intertwined their lives as they had before. If Jack really was genuine about his words. If he really did mean what he wrote in that letter. Vlad could’ve had a happier life up until now.

They’d wasted so much time...

Vlad shook his head. No. He refused to get his hopes up. With his luck Jack had sent that final letter and then written Vlad out of his life, and had only re-entered it later because of Vlad’s status. He would not be fooled again.

He shoved such musings out of mind and returned to his work.

~~~

The book he was looking for was not in his library. Or the lab. Or his office. Vlad checked everywhere it could be yet again and came up short. He scowled at the span of bookshelf where it should’ve been and wracked his brain for where it might be. It was a book he hadn’t needed since before his move, a text on Ghost Zone fabrics, which meant he might’ve forgotten to unpack it after all this time.

Vlad hurried to the hall closet nearest to his bedroom, where he’d tucked a few of the unpacked boxes away to be dealt with later—quite a lot later, in this case. He moved the blankets and sheets aside and pulled three of them out.

The first contained a mix of books and clothing—he’d been in a hurry while packing due to the whole lack of roof thing, so item types had ended up jumbled together. Vlad took out the topmost books and found that they covered only mundane subjects—disappointing—then removed the clothes to see if he’d packed any more books underneath them.

His fingers brushed denim, worn and familiar, before he saw the garment it belonged to. Vlad flinched as if he’d been stung and withdrew his arm. Just his luck, to think it would be here of all places at this particular moment... After taking a few seconds to gather himself he lifted the other clothes out, revealing an oversized denim jacket at the bottom of the box.

It had originally belonged to Jack. He’d bought it just before going to college, but shortly after they got their dorm room together, well... It unofficially belonged to Vlad, given how often he wore it. He could still remember the night Jack first placed it on his shoulders to ward off the chill; Jack could make heat like a furnace and claimed he didn’t need it as much as Vlad did, and his warmth had lingered on it for some time after he’d passed it on.

They’d been far closer than mere friends back then. Their nights together were never cold, even in deep winter—

He cut the memory off before it could go further. No point thinking about that right now...

Vlad took the jacket in both hands and lifted it out of the box. It was heavy and cold and smelled faintly of the sandalwood cologne he’d been wearing when he last handled it; over the years and various washings it had lost its original owner’s scent, and Vlad had never bothered trying to recreate it. He shifted his hands and slowly let it fall open. The blue fabric was marred by a few burn marks here and there; the first set was from when he’d tossed it into the hearth in a fit of anger, only to claw it back out again when he realized what he’d done; the second was from the fact that it was one of the items to survive when his ghost portal exploded.

He’d felt a strange sense of kinship with it when he found it among his belongings all those years ago, after finally reclaiming what had been in his dorm room once he was out of the facility. Jack had carelessly left it behind, same as he’d done to Vlad.

But now Vlad wondered if Jack had specifically left it behind for him instead...

~~~

Sleep was elusive that night. Vlad stared up at the ceiling, his eyes wide and his face slack and otherwise expressionless. The jacket lay spread out on the comforter next to him. Occasionally he reached over and took it in one hand, rubbing the fabric between his fingers or simply holding on to it for a time.

At a glance he looked the same as he always did, but now everything unseen was shifting underneath him. A current of emotion and subconscious thought that dragged him farther and farther away from the familiar shore.

A deep, aching sense of longing settled in his chest. He took a deep breath in an attempt to ease it and closed his eyes, for what little good it would do.

Even if Jack still held those feelings after all this time, there was no way they could be what they once were to each other. Jack was happily married to the woman they both loved, any secret relationship would only serve to drive her away from both of them. He would lose Maddie, and he would lose Jack too. He would be alone again.

His own feelings hadn’t completely gone away in the twenty years since then. He’d been terrified when he first noticed them rising out of the depths once more in the wake of reading the letter. If Jack still shared those feelings now then it would only become all the more painful as he stifled them.

Vlad’s grip on the jacket tightened. He liked neither option when it came to the answer Jack could give: he was only now realizing just how miserable he’d been before while he still hated Jack, but the thought of having to settle for never being able to be with him despite mutual romantic feelings didn’t make him happy either. Maddie... Disliked Vlad, after all. There was no way she would ever be okay with a romantic relationship between him and her husband. Things were looking bleaker and bleaker no matter what the outcome was.

Vlad pulled the jacket over and spread it across himself like a blanket, then rolled onto his side and tried to will himself to sleep.

~~~

A few days later Vlad was working on calculations for a new invention when Maddiecat stood in front of his monitor and stared at him.

He briefly tried to look around her—a futile effort, given how much visual space she took up thanks to her long fluffy coat—then moved his chair back to make room.

She examined his lap for a few moments, then stepped down and flopped onto her side with a loud purr.

Vlad smiled and scratched under her chin, instinctively shifting his legs so she wasn’t in danger of rolling off. His thoughts drifted back to her namesake. Doing so did not bring the usual burst of happiness the way it tended to most of the time.

Had his continuing love for her been determined by Jack’s betrayal back then? Why did it feel so incorporeal now? Did it all go back to that?

It almost made him wish he’d never taken that letter. The others were enough to suggest he’d been wrong—at least in part—but that final one... He had yet to regain his balance after finding what it contained.

An indescribable feeling had settled over him ever since. The sensation of something that cannot be undone, of entropy’s relentless march to the future. Even if Jack brushed off the letter there would be a new status quo to replace the old one. There was no perfect reset after this.

Things were changing, and it terrified him. The grudge that had defined him for twenty long years was feeling more tenuous by the day, and he had no idea what would be left in its place if it dissipated completely.

~~~

Vlad proposed another visit with Jack a little over a week after reading the letter. As usual Jack jumped at the chance and cleared his schedule for the day, already making plans to resume work on their joint invention.

The usual hate Vlad felt whenever he was around Jack had that hollowness to it now. Perhaps if Jack brushed off the letter there would be substance to it again. But Vlad would have to ask Jack about it in order to find out.

They went down to the lab and set about calculations for the Buster-Vack. Vlad did his best to focus, but his attention was split between the math and the question of the letter. How to bring it up? He couldn’t just come out and ask about it, could he? But perhaps that would be the best way... Subtlety was not Jack’s forte, after all.

Vlad’s first attempt at bringing it up was abruptly cut short by Danny intruding to ask Jack about some item he’d misplaced. He dropped it once Danny was gone, having remembered that the boy was a possible eavesdropper for any conversation he tried to have with Jack. That added threat of possible embarrassment kept Vlad silent a while longer.

The day passed without an answer. Vlad was lagging behind on his calculations thanks to the divide in his attention, something that he explained by saying he was feeling a little under the weather. Jack didn’t mind; to him the only thing that mattered was that Vlad was here at all.

Vlad returned the next day. Jack worked on the main canister of their invention while Vlad turned his attention to finishing his calculations. For a time the lab was filled only with the hum of lab equipment, the clank of metal and tools, and the scratch of a pen.

“Jack?” Vlad said, at last breaking the silence between them.

“Yeah?” Jack looked up with a big smile on his face.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Vlad began. Anxiety threatened to choke him even as he spoke the words. Why did this have to be so hard? What was he so afraid of?

Jack waited patiently, the sheer force of his attention seeming to settle on Vlad like a lead weight.

“Erm, do you think we should celebrate once we’re done with this? It’s the first invention we’ve built from start to finish in twenty years,” Vlad said, even as he mentally kicked himself for chickening out on the real question.

“That’s a great idea!” Jack said with the utmost gusto. “We’ll have a special dinner and drinks, just the two of us!”

“Yes, that sounds wonderful,” Vlad said weakly. He returned to his calculations again, only to find that it was impossible to focus due to sheer frustration.

Vlad wanted to physically kick himself for that fumble. Maybe he actually would! Duplication was an option, once he got home he could use it to give himself a good kick in the rear for being such a coward. He was one of the richest men on the planet, making progress on bringing the Ghost Zone to heel in a similar manner, he’d fought many powerful ghosts without flinching, and yet here he was balking at a question. A question! A mere string of words with an upward inflection on the end! What was he so afraid of?

The answer to that question proved somewhat murky when Vlad looked for it. There was the fear of change of course, but that wasn’t the only thing that made him hesitate. There was the other side to Jack’s possible reply, the one where he told Vlad that the letter didn’t mean anything. For years he’d thought that Jack didn’t really care about him, but to actually hear it from Jack rather than assume...

It would... Break his heart all over again to actually hear it. The mere thought made him sick to his stomach.

But he still had to know, one way or the other. He couldn’t just sit in limbo agonizing over what the answer might be. He had to ask the question.

~~~

Another day went by. Vlad at last finished his batch of calculations and passed them off to Jack to be incorporated into the rest of their work and went home for the day. He did not, in fact, use duplication to give himself a kick when he got home. It was still tempting, but he had more important matters to attend to. There were cats to feed, dinner to make, and as much sleep as possible to catch once those were taken care of. He would need his wits about him when they tested the prototype tomorrow. Perhaps it would also be easier to ask the question if he got enough sleep tonight.

~~~

Vlad found no opportunity to ask his question as they put the final touches on their prototype. All their focus went into assembly and tuning the internal chamber. Vlad’s calculations were key for getting the energy drain to work properly, and he was confident that he’d done them to perfection despite all the distractions.

Jack placed a collection of faintly-glowing beakers on the testing table. “If this baby can suck the ecto-contamination off of these we’ll be ready to move to the next phase of prototyping. And the final version will be great for cleaning up the lab on top of dusting ghosts!”

“It will be quite the useful device if so,” Vlad said as he took up a position next to Jack. He was a tad dispirited despite their progress, but it was good to see their joint invention make such a milestone.

Jack took up the Buster-Vack’s wand—the device already looked very much like a canister vacuum—and hit the switch.

The device was quiet, giving off a low pulsating hum as Jack brought the wand over to the contaminated beakers. As expected the glow on the beakers was drawn into the end of the wand and soon enough they looked like perfectly mundane pieces of lab equipment again—

Vlad became aware of a horrible weight in the room, as if the air had suddenly become thick as water. He snapped his head around to look at the canister and noticed the odd shadow that seemed to be gathering around it. The rhythmic hum took on a more discordant pattern as something went wrong inside the prototype.

His calculations—

They were both standing far too close. Fear and instinct stamped out rational thought, his inner dialogue going silent as he grabbed Jack by the jumpsuit and leaped away—

The Buster-Vack imploded with a dull thud and an abrupt screech of warping metal. A shockwave flowed out, the leading edge glowing with ectoplasmic energy as it forced the ghostly power out of everything it passed over.

They landed on the floor some distance away. Jack was at a safe range. Vlad was still far too close. The shockwave broke over him like boiling water, the sheer pain of it tearing his voice away. It flowed through him and dragged every speck of ghostly energy from his body as it left—and tore most of the mundane energy from his cells as well.

Vlad collapsed as his consciousness surrendered to the cold darkness.

~~~

Jack sat up once the lab had gone quiet. It was pitch-black, save for the lingering glow left on the walls. Even the Fenton Portal had gone dark. “Phew! Never thought that would happen. Great reflexes there, V-man!”

His words were met by silence. No reply from Vlad, and even the lab equipment had gone dead quiet thanks to the shockwave shoving all the energy out of it.

“Vlad?” Worry crept in, sharp and cold.

The silence was broken not by a reply but by a flurry of footsteps coming from upstairs.

“Vlad!” Jack felt around in the darkness at his side where Vlad should be. A sudden wave of panic rushed over him, and it felt as if his heart was trying to force its way into his throat. What happened—

“Dad!” Danny’s voice rang out from the stairwell just as the beam of a flashlight hit the floor at its foot.

Jack found Vlad as Danny entered the lab. Vlad lay on his side with his eyes closed, arms limp with one draped over his waist. He didn’t respond as Jack shook his shoulder, and Jack could feel an unnatural chill even through multiple layers of fabric.

“Dad, what happened?” Danny ran over to them, rounding a table as he did so. “What was—” he spotted Vlad and stopped to stare for a few moments. “Is he—?”

Jack lowered his head to Vlad’s level and listened. For a few heart-pounding moments he heard nothing, and then—shallow, with long pauses between as if Vlad barely had the energy to pull air into his lungs, but it was there. Vlad was alive.

For now.

“He’s breathing,” Jack said. Now that Danny had the flashlight on Vlad’s face he could see that all the color had gone from it, leaving Vlad’s skin nearly gray. Jack picked him up and held him close, trying to share a little warmth; Vlad had always had issues with being too cold, but he’d never seen it this bad before. “Where’s Maddie?” he asked as he looked up at Danny. He needed someone who could think more clearly than he could right now. At least Vlad had been conscious after the proto-portal accident, but this time—this time he looked like he was on the verge of death.

“Mom’s out shopping,” Danny replied.

“What do we do? Should I take him to the hospital?” Jack brought a hand to his head as he aloud to himself. Could a hospital even treat this? He knew that the hospitals back then hadn’t been able to cure Vlad’s ecto-acne—he and Maddie wouldn’t have had to do that recently if they had—so their knowing that to do for this—

“We need to get to Vlad’s lab,” Danny said, disrupting Jack’s train of thought.

“What?” Jack looked up at him.

“I bet Vlad has something to help with this in his lab. He’s always doing ecto-tech experiments, and a hospital wouldn’t be able to treat this anyway.”

“You know what’s wrong?”

“Um.” Danny paused, the question taking him off-guard. He glanced around the room as he thought of his answer. “Well it looks like whatever happened shoved all the ecto-energy out of everything in here. So that must be what’s affecting Vlad.”

“But I was just fine at the same range.”

“Maybe having ecto-acne left him permanently ecto-contaminated?” Danny asked with a shrug. “Even after it’s been cured it could still leave permanent changes, right?”

“That’s possible...” Jack admitted. Truthfully they still didn’t know as much about ecto-acne as they would’ve liked, such as permanent effects after the cure. Long-lasting ecto-contamination could be one of them... “If his body adapted to having constant levels of ecto-energy then having it suddenly removed could make him sick...” he reasoned to himself as he stared down at Vlad. With his mind made up, Jack took Vlad in his arms and stood. “You know how to get to his lab?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked to Danny.

“He showed it to me once,” Danny replied. “I think he was trying to show off.”

“Let’s go.”

~~~

They took the Specter Speeder over to Vlad’s mansion to save on time. Vlad’s house keys were in his breast pocket, and soon enough they were inside looking for the lab. Danny led the way, meeting only two missed attempts to find the entrance before locating the correct one.

Jack watched the wall slide back as Danny released the lamp that had served as its lever. Vlad definitely had style, it was just one of many things about him that Jack admired, and they had similar tastes in this respect—the entrance to Jack’s own lab wasn’t a secret, but there were certainly a few special functions of the Fenton residence that he’d hidden around.

Danny led the way down into the lab. Jack had never seen it before, despite his newly-rekindled friendship with Vlad. He hadn’t pressed him on it, figuring that Vlad would give him a tour when he felt ready. If only the circumstances for finally being able to see it weren’t so dire...

The lab was dimly-lit by the faintly-glowing lights of slumbering equipment and other devices. The two of them looked around for a light switch, only for the lights to come on mere moments after they’d begun their search. Lights on the equipment pulsed in a wave toward the other end of the lab, leading them toward something that they couldn’t see yet.

They continued on around a corner where they found a large tank with various panels and devices forming its framework. The pulsing lights ended here. This had to be the healing device that Danny figured Vlad would have. A panel lit up next to the tank and its screen declared that the entire array was indeed a recovery chamber meant to speed up healing and re-energize the patient. Instructions on how to prepare Vlad for it followed as a nearby cabinet opened with a whir of servos to reveal something similar to a wetsuit.

“Hey Danny, could you step out for now? I can take care of this,” Jack said with a glance back at Danny.

“Okay,” Danny said after a brief pause. He stepped back around the corner, but the sound of his footsteps stopped there.

It was reassuring to know that his son wanted to stay and support him, but Jack was confident that he could take care of this himself. He laid Vlad out on a nearby exam table as instructed. A scanner popped out of the side and ran its bar of light over Vlad. The readings on the chamber changed with an accompaniment of foreboding beeps, showing that Vlad was at critically low metabolic energy levels and giving the estimate that he would likely die within the hour if left to his fate.

Jack worked swiftly, changing Vlad into the chamber suit and gently pulling out his ponytail so it wouldn’t interfere with the breathing mask. Once ready the chamber’s information panel directed him to a set of spiral stairs that would allow him access to the top of the main tank. Jack ascended with Vlad in his arms and found the top hatch already open. He attached the necessary tubes to the breathing mask, then lowered Vlad into the tank, his movements slow and deliberate. Jack stepped back as the hatch closed with a heavy metallic clank.

He returned to the front of the tank and checked the main screen: it estimated three days to get Vlad back to full consciousness. They’d made it just in time.

Jack’s shoulders went slack, and he breathed a long sigh of relief.

“Everything okay, dad?” Danny called from around the corner.

“Yep! Everything’s gonna be a-okay!” Jack declared, straightening a little as the weight of worry eased off his shoulders.

Danny peeked around the corner, then joined Jack near the healing tank. “So how did this happen, anyway?” he asked as he looked up at Jack.

“Something went wrong with the Buster-Vack. Won’t be sure what until I can look at what’s left, but Vlad pulled me to safety just before it went off.”

“Vlad saved you?” Danny asked with plain disbelief.

“He dragged me away just in time,” Jack said, watching Danny closely as he did. Just what had Danny thinking Vlad would let him die like that?

“Huh.” Danny turned his attention to the tank instead and said nothing more on the matter. “Says it’ll take three days. We can head home for now.”

“I’m not leaving,” Jack said.

“Dad, you don’t have to stick around. He’s gonna be fine.”

“But something could happen before he’s ready to wake up. I’m not gonna leave him alone.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest but didn’t look Danny in the eye as he spoke. The unspoken ‘this time’ hung in the air like a piece of cobweb, slight and drifting but unmistakably there.

Danny let out a grumbling sigh. “Fine,” he mumbled.

Any further discussion was cut off when a nearby screen flashed and displayed a message asking that the two feed Vlad’s cats for him.

Danny stared at the screen. “Wait, he has cats?!”

~~~

The first thing that he became aware of was the pain. A bone-deep ache accompanied by the sensation of having had every one of his muscles wrung out like a damp rag. Next and more pleasant was the temperature: a comfortable warmth that uniformly embraced every part of his body. Then the muffled quality of incoming sound… He was submerged given what he could hear.

The Revitalization Chamber?

He briefly clutched for any recent memories that might reveal why he was here. The Buster-Vack, something going wrong with it… Ah, the shockwave from its implosion shoved nearly all the energy from his body when it hit him. That was why he’d felt so cold as he passed out.

But who had gotten him into the tank, then?

Vlad slowly opened his eyes and looked out through the clear glass at the front of the tank.

Jack was seated at its base, sleeping with his head and near shoulder resting against the glass. It was a surprise to find him here and it... Did kindle some warmth in Vlad’s heart. Just how long had he waited?

Vlad’s gaze lifted to take in the room at large. Only then did he notice the mess of food wrappers and discarded pizza boxes that had been left on various lab tables and on the floor. The resulting spike of aggravation immediately stamped out any fond feelings. Vlad scowled behind the breathing mask. Jack had been waiting around long enough to make a pig sty of Vlad’s lab, that was for sure!

The chamber reacted to his movements and began to drain the healing medium away.

Jack stirred and opened his eyes at the noise. He spotted Vlad and broke out into a happy grin as he stepped back from the tank.

Vlad took the mask off as the front of the tank unlocked and swung up and away. “Jack Fenton, just what do you think you’ve been doing to my la—” the rest was cut off by an awkward yelp as Vlad’s knees buckled under his own weight.

Jack caught him easily—sparing him the indignity of a faceplant—and swept him into an equally-undignified hug. “Vladdie! You’re okay! I was so worried when you passed out!”

Any reply Vlad tried to give was smothered by his face being shoved into Jack’s chest. He tried to yell at him anyway and only managed a lot of incoherent, muffled grumbling as he weakly swatted Jack’s arm in a wordless demand that he let go.

It took a few swats for Jack to realize what Vlad wanted. “Whoops! Sorry, Vlad. I was just so happy that you woke up!”

Vlad gasped as Jack loosened his hold on him, then let out a long groan. “How many days has it been?”

“Three.”

The bottom fell out of Vlad’s stomach. “My cats!” He had automatic systems in place to ensure their needs were met if something happened to him in the short term, but that didn’t stop him from worrying that something might’ve gone wrong.

“Don’t worry, Vladdie. We took good care of them,” Jack said. “We even followed the feeding schedule that popped up.”

Vlad let out a long sigh of relief as the worry receded. “That’s good. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to them.”

“Aww, I’m glad you have cats, Vlad,” Jack said, giving Vlad a warm smile. “They’re so sweet, too!”

“Yes, yes, it’s very nice,” Vlad grumbled, though he couldn’t deny the warmth that bloomed in his chest when Jack looked at him like that. “Thank you for looking after things. You can go home now.”

“I can’t leave you like this, Vlad,” Jack said, his smile replaced by a look of earnest concern.

“What do you mean you can’t leave me? I’m awake now, you don’t have to worry!”

“Vlad. You can’t even walk right now.”

“Yes I can!” Vlad snapped indignantly. “You just haven’t put me back on the floor yet!”

Jack lowered Vlad to the floor as asked and let go; Vlad’s legs held for only a few seconds before threatening to give way again. He scooped Vlad up once more.

Vlad let out a grumbling sigh and let his head rest against Jack’s chest. “Fiiine, you can stay until I get my feet under me again. Just don’t make more of a mess while you’re here.”

“You can count on me, Vladdie!”

“Yes, good. Now could you take me up to my bathroom? The healing medium tends to get sticky as it dries and I don’t want it on me when that happens.”

“On it, V-man!” Jack carried Vlad bridal style—Vlad refused to examine how this made him feel right now, despite the blush that was already settling on his face and ears—and hurried back up to ground level.

After some directions from Vlad—and a few wrong turns from Jack due to his sheer enthusiasm to help—they made it to the master bedroom and its attached bathroom. Despite Jack’s insistence Vlad got him to at least let him shower on his own; Vlad was able to walk a little bit by then as long as he had something to lean against, and he still had his shower chair from the particularly bad ecto-acne flare-ups that would keep him off the floor while he cleaned himself up.

Vlad sat under the stream of hot water for a while and let his mind wander. How many times had he cursed Jack’s name while sitting on a shower chair like this? For all the years of medical agony he’d had to endure, the most terrifying flare-ups where his body lost functions and he wondered if this was finally the end, all from Jack’s five seconds of carelessness. And he’d endured every second of it alone. It would’ve been so much easier had Jack at least been there for him.

A knock at the bathroom door cut off any further ruminations.

“Everything okay in there, Vlad?” Jack asked, his voice just loud enough to reach Vlad over the sound of the water.

“I’m fine,” Vlad replied.

“Alrighty then!” There was the sound of the door closing again as Jack withdrew.

Vlad lingered a little longer under the shower’s stream, then finished up and dressed in the underwear and pajamas he’d picked out before coming in. His legs were a little more steady this time as he walked out of the bathroom and over to his bed—a relief, he wasn’t sure how much more of Jack carrying him he could take—and once there he slipped under the covers and was almost ready to fall asleep immediately upon resting his head on the pillow.

Jack followed and stood next to the bed, looming over him like the comforting bulk of a familiar mountain. He did always tend to hover when Vlad was sick back in college...

“Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Go clean up the mess you made down in my lab before you forget,” Vlad said. No way in hell was he letting Jack get away with leaving that for him to tidy up, no matter how nice it was for him to be so attentive right now.

“Oh yeah, I’ll get on that,” Jack said with just a smidge of sheepishness, apparently aware himself that he was quite likely to forget to do that without the necessary reminders.

Vlad drifted off as soon as Jack left, soon joined by his two cats who curled up on his bed beside him.

~~~

There was something hovering over his bed. Vlad lashed out instinctively without even opening his eyes and was rewarded with a solid punch to whatever it was, accompanied by an awkward yelp from the intruder.

“Hey! I wasn’t even doing anything to you!” Danny cried indignantly, his voice now coming from a few feet away.

“Invading my personal space counts as doing something to me,” Vlad replied as he opened his eyes. He turned his head and spotted Danny standing with his night stand between them. “And for all I knew you were planning to do something more. Why are you in my bedroom?”

“Unlike you I don’t pick on people who are helpless,” Danny snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to stand up straight after the blow he’d taken to his stomach. “I’m here cause I wanna know what you’re playing at.”

Vlad let out an annoyed groan and ran his hands down his face. “Playing at? I’m trying to recover from a near death experience at the moment! There are no games to be played in this case.”

“Why’d you save my dad?”

It was a question Vlad hadn’t gotten the chance to ask himself, in all that was going on; he’d only been conscious for a grand total of less than an hour today. “I don’t know,” Vlad replied after a few moments’ thought. “I just moved without thinking.”

Danny was watching him carefully when Vlad glanced at him again.

“What now?” Vlad asked. He was still exhausted despite the sleep, and he didn’t care to be pestered with difficult questions at the moment.

“You’ve been kind of different lately,” Danny mused, his eyes narrowing. “What happened?”

“Will you go away if I tell you?”

“Fine.”

“Very well...” Vlad paused, choosing his words as carefully as he could in his exhausted state. “I recently acquired some information that forced me to reevaluate my previous judgments of your father’s character.”

“Wow. All those words just to admit that you were wrong about my dad,” Danny said with a knowing smirk.

Vlad’s last nerve snapped at the disrespect. He threw caution to the wind. “Well it’s not every day that a love letter written years ago finally reaches me,” Vlad said, making a show of examining the backs of his fingernails. “So raw and heartfelt, too. Jack certainly meant it when he wrote it.”

Danny stared at Vlad with a mix of shock and horror on his face that Vlad found every bit as amusing as he’d expected it to be. “You’re lying!” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“I can show it to you if you need proof.”

“Ew! I’m not reading that!” Danny leaped into the air and gave Vlad a glare. “Don’t— Don’t think this is over just cause you’re not trying to kill my dad anymore! I’m watching you!”

Vlad burst out laughing; watching the boy try to act intimidating now was just too funny. “Watch all you like. Maybe you’ll see some of that proof for yourself.”

“Ugh!” With that final declaration of disgust Danny went intangible and flew up through the ceiling, leaving Vlad alone at last.

The mirth remained as Vlad drifted off to sleep again. He would find a way to deal with the repercussions later; it had been worth it just to see the look on Danny’s face.

~~~

Jack was seated next to the bed when Vlad woke up next.

“My lab had better be spotless when I see it again,” Vlad said as he looked over at Jack.

“Don’t you worry, V-man. It’s as tidy as when I found it,” Jack said, giving him a thumbs-up.

“We’ll see about that,” Vlad grumbled. At least the lab would be cleaner than he’d seen it earlier. It was better than nothing. He stared at Jack for a few moments as he made up his mind; the lingering exhaustion had caused his previous hesitation to evaporate, and he’d already told Danny about the letter...

“Actually, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Jack.” Vlad sat up and draped his hands across his lap.

“Er, what’s up?” Jack asked, looking a little worried.

Vlad stared down at his hands for a few moments, then he looked up at Jack as he spoke, “That letter you sent to me, the final one. Did you mean what you said in it?”

“Can you give me a few specifics...?”

“Oh, it was in a sloppy state, lots of corrections, an entire paragraph blotted out that said you wished you could marry me...”

“So it did end up with you...” Jack said slowly. “How did that happen?”

“Some ghost played a prank on you, perhaps?” Vlad suggested. It was somewhat true, in a way. “And your answer? Did you really mean it?”

Jack had no immediate reply for him and stared at the far wall for a while. At last he sighed and scratched the back of his neck, unable to look Vlad in the eye. “Don’t tell Maddie.”

“Don’t tell her? Why? It’s not like you still—” Vlad stopped short as he made the connection. “You don’t still feel that way, do you?!”

“Yeah. I never stopped feeling that way, really,” Jack said, shifting awkwardly on the chair.

“Then why did you never try to reach out to me? You could’ve done so at any point after I got out of the hospital.”

“I thought you didn’t want me in your life anymore,” Jack replied, looking a little hurt. “The letters came back, and you didn’t find me after you got out. So I figured I messed up so badly that you were just done with being my friend, and I didn’t want to bother you after that.”

Vlad stared at Jack as a new wave of emotions crashed down on him: relief, shock, regret, longing... The tension he’d been unconsciously holding onto left his body all at once. His head swam, the room slowly starting to turn around him. It was all—just a little too much to handle at the moment—

He was only out for a few seconds at most, but he woke up with Jack holding him in his arms again.

“Vlad? You alright? What happened?”

It was all still sinking in. He had his answer now. He’d been proven wrong about Jack, and now he had to figure out how to handle that. How to navigate a world where he’d have to smother his own lingering feelings for the man even while knowing that Jack felt the same. He had no idea how Maddie would react when she found out...

“Still a little woozy from healing up,” Vlad replied weakly. “I’ll be better in a moment.”

Everything was different now. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little hopeful, with the warmth of Jack’s arms around him. His pessimism had been disproven before, perhaps it would be again...

#Danny Phantom #Vlad Masters #Vlad Plasmius #Jack Fenton #Vlad/Jack #Danny Fenton #Hurt/Comfort #dp fanfic #Kuzannfic #So happy to be able to post this!!

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watermelonsugacry · 2 years

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Hiii!! I loveeee ur work and after reading best song ever mv fic I've had this idea of like soml mv.. like y/n is with all her family and harry is just being goofy and loved bye them and i really want to se Anne and y/n intract like i think she would have an idea that harry has a little crush on her and like in the last after talking to y/n Anne teases harry and he gets all blushy...!

Not That Simple

A/N: writing about yn's stepmum brings me so much happiness i can't really explain it. hope you enjoy it lovies 💚

SUMMARY: Harry and YN being oblivious idiots and lie to their mums on the set of filming for their new music video, Story of My Life. (3.2k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist

"YN! Mon amour comment vas-tu?” My love, how are you?

"Hey Penny." YN smiles warmly as her stepmum walks into the set studio and shares a quick, squished hug from her.

Today is the day when One Direction films their music video for their upcoming single, Story Of My Life. It’s an exciting time for the band because they were able to bring along some of their family members to re-create some of their childhood photos. YN didn’t have much family outside from growing up with the Tomlinsons other than one of her favorite people in the world.

"How was the drive over here? Was Noah nice to yeh?" YN asks, referring to her head of security she sent to go get her stepmum from the airport.

"Oh he was an absolute doll, but he was completely unnecessary, baby. Yeh know I can handle meself." She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head and there’s no denying how truly gorgeous Penny is. She did yoga to keep fit and wore tight fitting jeans to show off her curvy figure. For as long as YN has known her, her stepmum always wore her dark hair down and long enough to cascade down her back. She used to joke that she could hear Penny coming from a mile away by all the bracelets and necklaces she wears—it reminds her of her hippie days when she was younger.

"Was just a safety thing, Pen."

"Yeh worry too much. Now," Penelope claps and rubs her hands together. "Where are those hunky lads? Oh!" She brushes past her stepdaughter once she notices them all huddled around each other as they chat amongst themselves.

"Pen...Penny!" YN whisper shouts at her stepmum but it's no use because the woman is quickly and confidently making her way towards the boys.

"Hiya lads!" Penelope raises her arms excitingly in the air, her hips shimming from side to side.

"Penny!" All the boys cheer, smiles from ear to ear as they go around giving her hugs and kisses on the cheek in greeting. There’s no denying how much the boys all love her stepmum. They can easily tell where YN sponged onto some of her personality from.

“You boys have grown up so much!” She gushes. Penelope grabs ahold of Louis’s chin and shifts his head around for her to look at. She playfully scrunches up her nose. “Lou, you’ve got some stuff on yeh face.”

All the boys laugh at her poke at his facial hair. He swats her hand away before stepping forward into her open arms. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”

"Hey Ms. YLN." Harry smiles sweetly after his turn giving YN’s mum a hug, only to receive a playful pat on the chest from the older woman.

"Now Harold, how many bloody times do I need to remind yeh to stop calling meh tha'. Makes me feel old."

"Penelope is quite a character isn't she?" Anne tells YN with a sweet smile. It was so nice to have some of the mums come on for this project. Anne was one of the first ones to arrive and her and YN have been talking almost non-stop. She was such an easy person to talk with that YN almost wanted to talk to her about her confusing feelings towards her son.

"Aren't yeh just the cutest, sweetest lad around?" Harry chuckles when the woman pinches at his cheeks.

YN lets out a snort. "More like embarrassing."

"Ben! I'm ready for me close up!" Penelope announces with a grand wave of her arms and YN groans into her hands.

...

"Cut!” Ben yells and takes off his little headphones as he comes around from the camera. “Alright ladies, we're just gonna make a few more adjustments and we'll let you know when we're ready for you again.”

The two ladies nod from their fixed positions on the couch and relax their limps. The picture they're re-creating is one that really pin points the start for her and her step mum's relationship. Baby YN was only four years old when her father started dating again after her mother passed away and met a young, hippie chick at a bar. YN wasn't very fond of any of the women her father brought home but Penelope was different. She actually gave notice to his daughter, made an effort for a conversation with the little girl, and gave her a mother's smile. After two months of dating YN’s father, one of the ways Peneople finally broke through to her was through one of the many great loves in her carefree lifestyle: music.

In no way was Penelope trying to buy her love, but she knew that the little girl's eyes and ears grew curious whenever she pulled out her guitar.

So one day, when Penelope pulled out her acoustic guitar and began to play her rendition of Dreams by Fleetwood Mac, she acted like she didn’t notice the little girl shy peaking over from the side of the velvet couch. Whenever the young woman took her stubble glances to YN, the little girl quickly hid her face, her chubby finger rubbing against the soft material of the couch.

When YN didn’t hear the strings making their pretty melody, her little furrowed eye brows peaked around to see that Penelope pulled out a little toy guitar for YN. The little girl's eyes widened in excitement and it was the first time Penny saw YN accepting her into her life. She played carelessly along with the woman, babbled baby gibberish with her singing and smiled big enough to showcase her growing, gapped teeth.

It was a moment that the two women would never forget. Soon enough, YN would grow more and more attached to the woman than her father and they’re both grateful to have established that relationship before her father began to drink more and more.

Penelope left the hippie scene for YN, her free life for that of a mother's and she wouldn't have changed a single thing about it. So the picture is one her father took when YN was handed her first guitar. Penelope sits on her old blue velvet couch with her acoustic guitar in hand, smiling warmly at her future step daughter. The four year old is sitting next to Penny on her little baby legs, happily showing off her toy guitar in her hand.

When the two women came on to the recreated set, they were honestly taken aback by how accurate everything looked. Down from the framed pictures in the background to her step mum's favorite velvet couch.

"Y'know," YN’s step mum says lowly. "That boy hasn't stopped staring at yeh ever since I got here."

YN furrows her eyebrows and discreetly looks over her shoulder to see Harry in fact looking over to their way. He quickly adverts his gaze the second he's caught and suddenly finds something on the ground super interesting.

"That's just how he is." YN shrugs her shoulders, her fingers messing around with the tiny toy guitar in her hands, playing a soft and squeaky riff on it.

"He's always like that?" Penelope widens her eyes in playful amusement. "M'surprised he hasn't burned a whole in yeh head yet. Yeh can practically see the fookin' hearts in his eyes."

She can see the way her stepdaughter nervously adjusts the thick strap of her purple dress that's decorated with dogs all over. Penny nearly cried at the sight of her little girl back in the nostalgic piece of clothing.

"And even though they're not as big and bright as his, I can see the ones in yours, too." With Penelope's eyes focused on her finger placement on the neck of her guitar, she continues, "And don't yeh dare roll yeh bloody eyes at me, you know it's true."

YN stops her eyes from fully making their rotation and opps for squinting up at the ceiling.

"I don't like him like that." YN lies through her teeth. "He's...like a brother to me." The words taste vile on her tongue and she has to stop herself from cringing at the lie.

"Yeah, a brother you cuddle and snuggle up with. Which, if yeh put it like that sounds kinda creepy." YN visibly tenses up from her spot on the couch and eyes her step mum.

"...How do yeh know about that?"

"M'not giving away me allies." Penelope pucks her fingers against the wired strings to make a pretty melody. A beat goes by before she flattens her hands over the strings and says with a shrug, "Okay, it was Louis."

YN lets out a laugh of disbelief, "I'm going to fooking kill—"

"But so what if you cuddle with him?"

"Can yeh keep yeh bloody voice down?" YN hisses with wide eyes. She’s too scared to even glance over in his direction, hoping he didn’t hear her stepmum’s nonchalant tone.

"I think it's sweet.” Penelope shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “He's breaking yeh out of yeh shell. And he's a nice boy, YN. He’s good for yeh.”

“Yeah, maybe too good.” YN mutters to herself, missing the usual set of rings on her fingers to fidget with.

“Hey, cut that shit.” Penople snaps and her stepdaughter’s eyes widen and her shoulders coming up her ears in a shrug in defense.

“I didn’t say anythin—”

“No, nuh uh. I will not sit here and listen to yeh belittle yourself like that, especially not for a boy. Don’t care who it is. I raised yeh better than that. Understood?” Penelope wasn’t used to having to scold her daughter in a while. It’s not like she did it every second of the day either, it’s just that YN has been away from home for the past three and a half years that she can forget her little girl isn’t a child anymore. She’s a young woman making her way through the world, a world too big for Penelope to ever fully experience and guide her daughter through but she will try her damn near best to any way she can.

“Yeah. Sorry, Pen.”

Penny isn’t truly mad at her, she doesn’t think that’s even possible at the sight of YN’s dejected look. She places a gentle hand on her stepdaughter’s cheek and her heart squeezes tight when YN leans into her touch, closing her eyes and letting out a quiet sigh.

“I love you, my baby. Always.”

“I love yeh too.” After resting her guitar on the side of the couch, YN allows her stepmum to pull her into her arms for a bear hug. She rests her head on Penelope’s chest, her forehead pressed against the side of her neck with her hands clutching onto her stepmum’s arm.

“Guess I have Harry to thank for yeh allowing me to cuddle on yeh.” Penelope jokes as she rests her cheek on top of YN’s head. But she’s suddenly and quickly blinking back tears by YN’s next words.

“Thank yeh for everything, mum.”

It’s always a rare, cherished moment whenever YN calls her by that name. It was always Penny or Pen, always being introduced as her stepmum and she never had a problem with that. After her biological mother left the picture, Penelope was in no way, shape or form ever trying to replace the little girl’s real mother.

Even though she’s still not used to saying it a whole lot, YN does see Penny as her mother and there are not enough words in the world to ever describe how grateful for the woman hugging her. Thankfully, no other words need to be said in this moment as Peneople pulls her daughter closer, brushing a hand over YN’s hair before planting a kiss on top of her head.

It’s not everyday she can hold her daughter in her arms in this nostalgic setting.

...

“Aw, Niall. You look so cute here.” YN coos as she points to one of the blonde lad’s baby photos. “What the hell happened?”

The boys all cackle and jab at Niall and it only makes YN laugh even more.

"If you keep staring at her like that, you'll burn a hole right through her head, bunny." Anne whispers to her son as he watches YN and the boys in the room with their childhood photos hanging up everywhere. "Remind me, son. Why haven't you asked the lovely girl out on a date yet?"

Oh how he just wants to rant to his mum about everything. He wants to tell her how it’s not as simple to ask her out, to take her out to a fancy restaurant, wine and dine her to make her see how irrevocably in love he is with her. He can’t drive her home and walk her up to her doorstep and not end the night with a goodnight kiss without the world shoving its nose in places where it doesn’t belong.

He wants to explain to his mum about how much he’s thought about it to the point where he can’t fall asleep most nights. What would happen if we dated and then broke up? It would be awkward for not only the two of them to work together but for the whole band. And that's only even if, if she likes him back. But that’s another rabbit hole he can’t afford to go down into.

“Who said I ever liked her in the first place?”

“Please. I’m your mum, I know things; I know you.” She brushes a gentle hand over his hair, careful not to mess up Lou’s work. “Could see the look on your face ever since you were sixteen, bunny.” Not to mention by just watching her son throughout the day today. When the band was shooting the open scenes for the video where they all develop, organize and hang up their photos, it can almost easy to miss the way Harry gravitates towards her.

Her role in the scene was to sit in the desk adjacent from Liam’s as he fucks around with whatever equiment he was assigned to. She can’t say she relatively knew what her role was either; she just wrote down nonsense on a clipboard before handing Harry the pictures for him to hang up.

The whole time they filmed the scene and whenever Ben would yell out cut! Harry would sit his bum on her desk while she leaned her elbows towards them as they would get lost in random conversation. She would laugh and nod along to whatever he said and Harry would brush his index finger at the underside of his nose to try to minize how big his smile would get. The bts camera always seemed to have a lot of content to capture whenever the two were together—and that was almost always.

“Yeah well m’grown now.” Harry straightens up a bit and shoves his fingers into the tight pockets of his black skinny jeans. “But even if I did, it was just a little, school boy crush. M’over it.”

Before she can point out the obvious truth he’s avoiding, his mum smiles and nod towards someone behind him.

“Hey, sorry to bother your talk.” YN smiles politely at Anne before turning attention towards her bandmate. “H, they’re calling us to set now.”

“Us?” Harry doesn’t mean to perk up like he did at the thought of the two of them doing a scene together, but alas.

“Yeah, the boys and I are ready for yeh.”

“Oh r-right,” Harry rubs the underside of his nose with his index finger. “Course because we were all doin’ solo shots before—I mean you already know that because you were with Penny so of course you would remember that.” The absolute word vomit is almost too painful to watch, but it hurts less than literally proving his mother right in real time. “Dunno why I even said that, because you obviously—I mean everyone kind of...um,” He chuckles to himself.

What the hell was that? He thinks to himself.

Harry fumbles over his words and Anne doesn’t even have the decency to hide her growing smile. Especially when she sees a tint of pink come to her son’s cheeks when YN lets out a giggle.

“Cat got yeh tongue, H?” She beams.

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as his dimples pop out in a smile. He feels like he’s making a right idiot out of himself. It’s like all logic and coolness he has chucks itself out the window when she smiles at him. He feels like he’s sixteen again, embarrassed by his crush laughing at him and wishing the world would swallow him whole.

“Apparently so. Bloody thing forgot to give it back.”

“Well maybe I can give it gentle reminder over there.” The skin on his wrist tingles when she takes a gentle grip on it and starts to pull him towards the set. She gives a sweet twiddle of her fingers towards his mum, “Bye, Anne.”

“Bye, hunny. Have fun, you two.” And when YN faces forwards again, Harry has to remind himself of his manners and resist the urge to roll his eyes and at his mother’s knowing smile.

...

Along with some of the other family members that came along for the video shoot, their two mums stand off to the side behind the multiple monitors as they watch the band perform their song.

YN slowly follows the camera as it moves in a circle around them. One of the sides of her cardigan slips off of her shoulder and she wraps her arms around her torso as she sings her somber bridge.

The story of my life, he takes her home

They drive all night to keep her warm

And time is frozen

When the band had their writing session for this song, YN pushed to add these lines. For a good chunk of their songs, YN always likes to add a female’s response to whatever the boys were singing. With this, she’s able to convey that the cycle of said relationship isn’t one sided. As the male character of the song does all he can for their partner, they never get the girl.

In turn, YN tells the story of what it's like to look on from the outside—to want the person who’s too busy looking at someone else.

“I think my son has a staring problem.” Anne whispers.

The two mums snicker at the multiple monitor screens because even though the main camera is on YN, another side camera captures the way Harry’s staring fondly at his bandmate.

“And me daughter is a terrible liar.” Penelope sighs. “Thought I taught her better.”

“To share her feelings?”

“To lie better.” The two women chuckle quietly to themselves before they watch their oblivious, ignorant children give each other subtle glances. “Should I start savin’ for their wedding now? Or when they finally decided to grow a pair and tell one another how they feel?”

“Oh, if they keep this up,” Anne cheekily nods to her son’s attempts to not smile at YN and sing along to the chorus. “They won’t be dating until they're forty.”

“I give ‘em six years.”

“I think five. One of them is bound to break.” The two women shake hands and then break out in chuckles at their realization. “Did we really just bet on when our kids will get together?”

“I think we did. Wait, what do we win if we’re right?” Penny says with an amused smile as she sees YN pass by Harry with putting a gentle hand on his arm.

“Oh, seeing them together is going to be satisfaction enough.”

“Agreed.”

...

The rest of the photos of YN that hang on the walls:

Her and Louis (pre XFactor):

Her and Penelope:

Her and her high school rock band-> Loophole:

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @harringt8ns @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit

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onemustalwaysbecarefulofbooks · 2 months

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HOFAS/MAASVERSE THEORY: This is not the story SJM planned to tell us

Listen, if you are feeling let down by the overall lack of an ACOTAR crossover in HOFAS, your feelings are entirely valid and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. And I'm saying this as someone who largely finds the Inner Circle insufferable and has the opinion of the less we see Rhysand, the better. But for real. . .point blank, this book was absolutely 100% marketed and hyped as a "crossover" which, in reality, ended up being sort of a stretch. And I believe, that at one point, it truly WAS all it was hyped up to be.

Raise your hand if you felt like HOFAS felt weird, disjointed, and unsatisfying at a lot of points.

Everyone, right? I don't think I've encountered a single person who can say they never experienced this at any point, even if they loved the book overall.

I'm sure some of you have probably heard by this point that there is a whole first draft of HOFAS out there that was apparently scrapped and rewritten entirely by SJM: SOURCE.

This draft teases a LOT of things that had people salivating, none of which actually showed up in the book we read. Examples:

HOFAS being "split between Bryce in the world of ACOTAR and the characters in Midgard".

Bryce being worried and freaked out over whether Prythian had toilet paper and receiving an answer

Nyx being featured in the story and the IC being extremely protective over him

Receiving an explanation on Rhys seeing Aelin during Starfall

SJM positively gushes over this stuff as she talks about it in interviews. You can literally see the light in her eyes and how excited she is as she discusses it. She compares it to Avengers Endgame and talks about how excited she and others were to see all the good guys come together for something epic and says this reminds her of that. However, there's a caveat. She consistently repeats things like "as of right now" or "in this first draft" or "we'll see what my editor says". Check out this live chat here.

And the next thing we know, she is claiming she turned in her first draft and felt "meh" about it, didn't like where the story went, and re-wrote the entire thing. Ladies and gentlemen, I call bullshit.

Bottom line: I truly believe, and would honestly bet a significant amount of money on, that this first draft was truly the story of SJM's heart and was brought to a screeching halt by her publishing company, who felt they could milk this hype and get more books out of it.

Essentially, if you were expecting ACOTAR 6, sorry can't help you, that was NEVER happening, BUT if you were expecting MORE than what we got, you are entirely within your rights to feel disappointed! That's why things felt weird and disjointed. . .because it was not the story she intended to tell organically and she had to make some pretty significant changes on a short notice.

The silver lining, I suppose, is the fact that I don't think her publishers talked her out of this happening in general. I think they just convinced her to drag it out longer. . .to delay it, essentially. Like I said, get more books in before finally making it happen. Because once that happens, how do you reach a higher peak? What could she make happen after that point that is more exciting than a huge epic crossover? I think that unfortunately, the Asteri were kind of wasted villains, as I don't know what other force of evil could bring all of these characters together realistically. But I do believe it's going to happen.

So yeah, you'll never be able to convince me there's not some version of HOFAS out there that only exists in Sarah's mind at this point, where the ACOTAR characters (and honestly, Aelin and the ToG characters) are much more central characters to the overall story. I'm convinced she wrote this epic story, went to her editors, and was told "Hey, the hype around this is so insane, we COULD do it now, OR we could develop the characters even further and do it LATER" (meaning more $$$$$$ for them). SJM is the QUEEN of changing her mind mid-series but to me, this really reeks of corporate greed and milking the hype. I'm trying to trust the process and tell myself that it's all coming eventually.

So stop shitting on people who complain about the lack of a crossover. We were teased with one and you know damn well SJM wrote one! I'm convinced it was teased and hyped this way because that's the way she originally wrote it and then when publishing convinced things to change the way they wanted them to. . .why tell us? If the already existing hype gets us to buy their book, it's a win for them.

I guess only time will tell!

#hofas #hofas spoilers #house of flame and shadow #house of flame and shadows spoilers #crescent city #crescent city spoilers #cc3 #cc3 spoilers #acotar #acotar spoilers #sjm #sarah j maas

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yamkaa · 1 year

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Café Moments

Zhongli x Male!Reader

(Two fathers with small baby)

Absolute fluff

!WARNINGS! : none

Word Count : 0.7k

(ft. Zhongli, Xiao that was hit by an age spell and Hu tao (once))

SYPNOSIS ; You were supposed to meet Zhongli in a café but he surprisingly brought another guest.

The sun rose up the horizon as the birds chirped loudly. [Name] groggily got up and stretched. He looked out the window and proceeded to get up. He then went to the bathroom to take a shower when a sudden knock on the door was heard. [Name] hurriedly run to the door and opened it, the wind gushing at his face.

There, outside his door was Hu Tao, holding a letter and greeting him with a wave and wink. "Yoohoo! I'm Hu Tao!"

[Name] panted and smiled at the young lady, "Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Do pray tell, is that letter for me?"

She nodded and shoved the letter to his hand while informing him, "Its from old m- I-I mean Zhongli!"

He lightly laughed as he received the letter and bid the lady goodbye then he went inside his home. He returned to his room, opened the letter and read the contents.

✧-----------------------------------♡-------------------------------------✧

Dear [Name],

Greetings, how have you been doing? Hopefully you're alright. Oh, did Hu tao say something about me by the way? Anyway, back to the main reason I wrote this letter. It is because I wanted to invite you to a café. The café's address is **. Please come by after you read this. Oh, and also, bring some Almond Tofu with you, it’s for a certain someone.

Your beloved,

Zhongli ♡

✧-----------------------------------♡-------------------------------------✧

[Name] smiled at the thought of being with Zhongli. Though he questioned to himself, who was this certain someone? He chuckles,

'Guess I have to find out myself.' He thought.

He sighed, though he already knew, he still had to find out if his mere guess was proven to be true. [Name] went outside and bought some Almond Tofu, then went to the said address. After walking for a few minutes, he saw Zhongli… holding, a child? [Name]'s eyes widened as he lost his composure.

He calmed himself down and went to Zhongli.

Zhongli turned around and greeted him with a smile, "Oh, hello there [Name].". Said man had his cheeks tinted pink at the greeting.

[Name] greeted him back with a warm smile, "Hello to you too, Zhongli. May I ask, who is this that you're carrying?" he asked. Zhongli then fully turned to him and showed the small being, as [Name]'s eyes widened in shock and surprise.

"Xiao?"

The child perked up at the sound of his name being called. [Name] beamed at the small, cute child. Internally screaming on how cute he looks. Zhongli smiled as he knew how [Name] would react seeing Xiao like this, I mean, who wouldn't?

The baby suddenly cried, overwhelmed by the attention given and [Name] was quick to scramble in his swing bag and then handed him an Almond Tofu, which, surprisingly got Xiao to calm down and eat it.

"Can I carry Xiao?? Pleaseeeeeeee?" [Name] begged Zhongli. At this point, Zhongli thought he might be on his knees just to carry said child.

Zhongli chuckled and handed Xiao to him, [Name] cooing. Xiao then hugged the cooing man and [Name] cooed even more. Whispering softly to the baby. Zhongli, who was watching this happen, smiled while blushing at the wholesome interaction.

"Love, we need to find a seat. Please follow me." Zhongli said softly to not interrupt the moment. [Name] nodded and arranged himself while Xiao was still in his arms. They proceeded inside the cafe and managed to successfully find a seat.

[Name] set Xiao down in between him and Zhongli, but the said child lay down on [Name]'s lap. The men chuckled as [Name] asked,

"Wait, how did Xiao turn like this?"

"Long story short, I saw him being carried by an old lady. She said that she saw him like this outside. Perhaps he was hit by a spell that she tested in her home." Zhongli explained as [Name]'s eyebrows rose in astonishment, then nodding.

"A spell huh.." [Name] put his hand on his chin in a thinking position. Until the waiter had come to their table.

"Hello to the… three of you. What would you like to order?"

"May I and Zhongli here get Almond Tofu's, please?" [Name] ordered, Xiao immediately sat up at those two words.

"But darling, didn't you already bring some?" Zhongli asked. [Name] chuckled,

"Yes, but you said they were for Xiao, remember?"

"Ah yes, I apologize for forgetting." Then the two got their orders in a few minutes and [Name] gave Xiao his own Almond Tofu.

The end.

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #zhongli x reader #zhongli x male reader #zhongli #xiao

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rfaromance · 1 year

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op i fear if you don’t stop me I’ll request the whole alphabet-when you get back, would you be willing to do a, c , s , and z for saeyoung (and whoever else you want so it’s not just him lol) good luck at your work and convention!

I'm always happy to gush about Saeyoung JDKDJDJF but I'll do Jaehee too!

Saeyoung 🚀

A: He's far more awkward than he tries to let on! He can joke and laugh and tease, but only when he's masking. He certainly has his sadistic side, but he also melts when he's on the receiving end, too. He doesn't know how to handle genuine emotion, because he's never been allowed to feel, to exist, to just be. He's always had to be the strong one. So when he's actually close and intimate with his lover, whether holding hands or on a date or just hearing "I love you", he malfunctions. He forgets words in every language he knows. He sweats enough to make a robot short-circuit. He turns as red as his hair. True emotion is his weakness.

C: Oh, Saeyoung is far stronger than he looks! While he's usually on the behind-the-scenes work for the agency, he does also go on field missions at times, so he needs to stay relatively fit! He can definitely scoop his MC, or give a piggy-back ride if they'd prefer. However... sometimes he wants to be the one swept off his feet like a bride or carried into the sunset (bedroom) like a princess. Indulge her!!

S: SNUGGLE CENTRAL. SAEYOUNG IS SO TOUCH-STARVED. Once he touches his MC, it won't be enough. He's constantly holding back during his route because he knows once he gets a hold of you, he won't ever want to let go. That means a lot of hugs, cuddles, and even glomps. He's happy to be a weighted blanket for you, and he's happy to spoon and just feel his lover's warmth and heartbeat and know he's not just dreaming, but living a real dream.

Z: Saeyoung is a very light sleeper. He struggles to sleep for long periods of time unless he's absolutely 100% out of energy, and even then he's usually easy to stir. He's always had to be on the lookout and on guard, for his entire life. Whether shielding Saeran from their mother's blows or ensuring a target doesn't spot him on a field mission, he has to be constantly alert and able to run or fight at a moment's notice. He sleeps with his back to the wall, so that he always has a full view of a room he's in. This makes him an excellent big spoon! But if his MC is a light sleeper, they'll probably wake each other often, whether because someone shuffled too much, snored too loudly, or got up to use the bathroom. If you're a deep sleeper... well, Saeyoung will probably spend half of his "bedtime" just staring at your adorable sleeping face. Or wiping your drool. 🤷‍♀️

Jaehee ☕️

A: Jaehee isn't awkward as much as she is... anxious? She's good at keeping her composure and often apologizes for not being more exciting, but that cool, level head is what makes her such a great asset to the RFA and a wonderful friend to have if you're a highly emotional person. She makes a point of stating she isn't inexperienced in matters of romance, but I have no doubt she'll need to warm up to PDA with a woman. She will be doting in private, but she will worry about public opinion and probably get flustered if her partner is bolder about being romantic in public!

C: Jaehee is STRONG. The judo queen would be happy to carry her lover, and she'd be beaming even if blushing as red as holly berries. She may not enjoy being carried quite as much, if only because she'd hesitate to give someone that much control. But if she trusts you? Scoop her. Let her feel special.

S: Jaehee is the type who would love snuggles but be bad about front-facing hugs. She's also big on hand holding. Jaehee isn't the type that needs to throw her body around someone; on the contrary, a simple touch of the thigh or stroking your thumb along the back of her hand is more intimate and meaningful to her. (But she's certainly not opposed to sitting side-by-side with hot cocoa and a blanket to watch Zen's DVDs.)

Z: Jaehee will try to insist that she sleeps in a separate bed, since she works at odd hours sometimes and doesn't want to disturb her partner. Jaehee MCs, you'll need to step up, here. Force her to sleep at normal times. Don't let her get up to order coffee supplies at 4 am. She needs REST, and if you have to entangle your legs with hers and wrap your arms around her to keep her in bed, so be it. (She could probably shake you off, but she wouldn't because she'd realize you're just looking out for her well-being.)

#mystic messenger #Mysmes #Mysme #Mm #Jaehee Kang #saeyoung choi #luciel choi #707 #Headcanon #Thanks for the ask!#Anon

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jxyc-3 · 2 years

Text

My World With You

♡A Fischl x Gn!Reader♡

"My dearest companion, one invites you to travel into one's home-world hidden in the depths of Mondstadt City's library. The transportation is limited to only few, including the one and only Prinzessin der Verertelung, The Midnight Winged Raven, and you. The meeting is not required, however, it is a once in a life time opportunity one should not miss out on. Rejoice! Our meeting shall be held no later than tomorrow, when the clock strikes 10A.M."

Oz finished reading the letter fischl had put together for you, leaving it in your hands. Recieving it, your eyes light up joyously at Fischls obvious date invitation. Looking back at the raven, you say, "Of course I'll come!" Making Oz, who was preparing to translate the Prinzessins message, shocked to no extent.

🌙Oz POV🦅:

I rode back, impatiently flapping my midnight wings, readily waiting to share the news with the Prinzessin. At my arrival, the Prinzessin looked distressed, as if she were anticipating my arrival much more impatiently than I was when trying to get there.

I rode in, surprising the Prinzessin, making her shoot her head around in a panicking question, letting her guard down.

"O-Oz!? You're back! Ahem! What does one show the honor!?" The Prinzessin tried to keep up her facade, but anyone could tell she was beyond nervous for her confession results.

"Mein Fraulein.... Ones invitation... has been accepted! And is greatly awaited for." I say, still out of breath since recieving the information.

"What!?" I had never seen the Prinzessin's face light up more, for it was more excited from recieving this information than she was when she got a new book from the library. "I-I mean! Of course one would have very few that wouldn't accept one's invitation into one's home-world!"

Mein Fraulein had a smile stretched from ear-to-ear, more happier than I had ever seen. I followed, just as happy to hear the information, as the Prinzessin ran into the library in Mondstadt City to gush about the information to Lisa to speak with Lisa about arranging the library to be used as the location for a... "dangerous portal to one's home-world."

It goes without saying that Lisa was all ears when the surprise of the Prinzessin getting a date, (and that the date was arranged at her library,) for she thought it was absolutely adorable.

After dismissal from.the library, the Prinzessin and I wandered back towards the Prinzessin's chamber to practice activities and what to converse when their meeting takes place.

👤Your POV📖:

It was the day after you received the invitation from Fischl. So you woke up to start your routine to get prepared for your day, starting with your shower and then your outfit. (It doesn't really matter what kind of clothes you would wear, it's not gonna be pointed out precisely cause I want this to be a fic where everyone can be themselves lol)

After getting out of the shower, you had decided to wear something comfortable/fitting since the date was at a library, and checked yourself out in a nearby mirror.

(Continue on with your routine after getting dressed, like doung your make-up and stuff if you do that)

Finally ready, you make way towards the Mondstadt library to meet with Fischl, grabbing a book that needed to be turned in.

You were made welcome by Lisa, as she took your book, checking it back in, and then pointing downstairs towards Fischl, who was nervously occupying herself with the book "Flowers for Princess Fischl."

You head downstairs, sitting next to Fischl, as she pretends not to notice you yet, hiding her face in the novel. "Fischl? What are you reading?" You say, grabbing the book from the top and pulling it down to see her face.

When you had pulled the book down from Fischl, there was a slight hint of nervousness on her face until she calmed at the sight of making eye contact with you.

"One was just reading an old novel that was read to oneself as a young one. It is the key to unlocking the portal to one's home-world." Fischl responds, handing you the book. "Allow yourself the glory of reading it, bare the most attention to the electro underlines."

With what fischl said, her expression wasn't as it always was, there was a hint of blush on her face. Taking it, you started to read the passages outloud, panicking the prinzessin. "N-Not out loud!" Fischl said, hurryingly, and looking away whilst biting her nails. Taking the hint, you read the passage silently.

The electro underlining seemed to be putting a sentence together from every piece it traveled to.

"Princess, though you do not appreciate the title, I will not push the formalities. As my travel partner, I have gathered several trophies with you at my side, but these, I gathered myself as a trophy for you as my honor of granting you the decision of remaining traveling partners, or becoming more." The wanderer says to Princess Fischl, presenting a perfect bouquet of flowers to her majesty. With no reaction from Princess Fischl, the wanderer continues. "It is of an honor for me to be at your side already, so all is understood if we must remain travelers." Princess Fischl had given no response again. And the wanderer lost hope.

Looking up, Fischl at tucked herself into a ball, her head on her knees, and her arms keeping herself in form, but anyone could see how red she was by her ears. "This is a wonderful way or confessing, but in this book, it's the wanderer confessing, and not Princess Fischl. Also, it seems Princess Fischl didn't accept given her reactions to the wanderer weren't positive or negative. I don't find that this fits our current situation." You say, teasing fischl to try and get a word out of her instead.

Fischl jolted, was this an indirect acceptance?! was what went through her mind, before she sat up and faced you. Breathing in and out, Fischl calmed her nerves.

"How so, maybe we should recreate the scene to make it accurate?" Fischl responded, "I, the Princess der Verertelung, have feelings for thee, however, one can not solve the puzzle of if thou returns ones feelings, so one would like the puzzling query to find its resolve. However, one will not be picky."

"Of course I return your feelings fischl!" You say, getting up from your spot to hug her.

"Let's rewrite our story... we can name it 'My World With You."

-jxyc-3

#fischl #genshin impact fischl #genshin inpact #hoyoverse #mihoyo #fischl genshin impact #anime fluff #anime headcannons #anime #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #gacha games

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arthurthefaceless · 2 years

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@the-arkham-librarian || meme

[ STRAP ] sender uses a strap on during sex with receiver.

Slowly Arthur crawled up from between Eliza’s legs, tongue slithering back into his mouth and by the time he came to rest his weight on top of her to press his face into his cheek, his mouth was nowhere to be found again. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered against the reddened shell of her ear and she smiled widely, nails scratching at his back lightly before she told him he did well. Her cheeks were pink, bottom lip darkened from teeth biting onto it, and to Arthur she was the most divine creature in the universe at that moment: heated with pleasure, scenting sweet and spiced from sweat, and her gasp so lovely as he moved his hips closer, the swollen head of his cock kissing at her welcoming warmth. ‘No, dear,’ Eliza purred, leaving Arthur whining so softly it was almost inaudible. Another one of those lewd kisses, begging her to allow him to squeeze inside her, share in their passion and feel how delightfully soft she always became after an orgasm. But another shake of her head, and a hand at the back of his neck coaxed him to roll off of her and onto his back, cock standing up proud. For about a minute they lay like that, Eliza catching her breath and Arthur letting his fingertips drum against his hard-on in an attempt to ease the throbbing.

Once Eliza was ready to sit up, she did so and let her eyes wander along the outstretched body of her lover. Shiny, muscles beautifully defined, and the way his head was tilted, she knew he was looking at her as well. ‘I want to top you now,’ she confessed somewhat shyly, causing Art to sigh, hand abandoning his arousal to give her a front row seat -- but again she shook her head. ‘Roll over and sit ready. You understand that, right?’ A stroke of her hand over his hip, tickling along the base of his cock before she wasn’t able to stop herself from giving it a few teasing jerks. Her movements were languid as she moved off the bed to shuffle to Arthur’s toy drawer, pulling it open to get the leather harness and a hot pink dildo she’d bought for him a while ago. They’d been working up to it for a few weeks already, and in the background Arthur howled in response to seeing what Eliza was doing. When she turned around, his cheek was muffled into the bed and his behind perked up into the air, cock hanging between his parted thighs like a display piece. Yes, Eliza loved feeling him inside her anytime, but there just... was something special about seeing a strong, physically capable man like Arthur sit there so vulnerably. ‘Hand me the lube, dear.’ He reached over to grab it and gave it to her without a sound. First? A warm glob to dribble between his buttocks to play with. One hand to stroke him without letting him finish, and the other one immediately with two fingers knuckle-deep inside him, showing no mercy with working on him. Third finger, easily added. ‘Here I come, darling.’ ‘Please, yes --’

And the absolutely scandalous moan that left him when she’d lubed up the dildo and started working it in? Oh, she could feel the clench inside herself as well that forced her to lean onto her beloved, breath hitching until an orgasm hit full force and Eliza bucked her hips until she was pressed tight against Arthur’s behind. It was enough for him as well, who promptly gushed his excitement into the warm cotton bedsheets, clasping them tightly in his hands while he wiggled on Eliza’s lovely extension to get every bit of friction he could. But just because she came, didn’t mean this was the end of this little game, of course. No, as soon as the peak of her high had ebbed away, Eliza started dragging and pushing, cruelly working Arthur over after his own orgasm. No, he’d have to survive a little more merciless suffering before she was done with him...

#thearkhamlibrarian #the arkham librarian #the-arkham-librarian #answered meme.#answered unsafe meme.#usfw

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maatryoshkaa · 3 years

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between the lines | lee minho

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒!𝐀𝐔

✑ Late fines, shared lockers, and a missing love letter:

In which a frantic search for an overdue library book leads to you finding other things that are...long overdue.

✑ PAIRING: student librarian!minho x bookworm!reader

✑ GENRE: retro!high school au, slow burn, slice-of-life romance, slight enemies-to-lovers shenanigans

✑ WORD COUNT: 9.7k

✖︎ TAGS/WARNINGS: fem!reader, mild language, bullying themes, skz are all around the same age. mc is insecure and a bit of a valentine's day grinch. minho is whipped but too hardheaded to admit it. also, an embarrassing amount of classic literature/pablo neruda references.

Ah, Valentine’s Day.

Call it the most romantic day of the year if you will, but in the treacherous hallways of Levanter High, it meant a minefield of hormonal couples, crushed chocolate boxes, and supermarket rose bouquets. Clutching your backpack with a grimace, you narrowly dodged a pigtailed cheerleader as she leapt into her jock boyfriend’s waiting arms. Turning into another hallway, you plugged your ears to block out a senior boy’s cold rejection of a freshman’s nervous love confession.

You finally caught sight of your locker and breathed a sigh of relief. Levanter High’s lockers were split in half lengthwise—one top row, and one bottom row. You dropped to a crouch to wrench yours open—you’d lost your lock a couple of weeks ago—trying to block out the early morning commotion as you rummaged for your English books.

“Hey, watch ou—”

The locker above yours opened with a screech, and you looked up just in time to see a pink avalanche of cards and chocolates raining down on your head in a painful, deafening crash. The student who had called out the warning was frozen with a comical look of shock on her face. You swore the entire hallway fell silent, blood rushing to your cheeks as you slowly raised your gaze at the person who had opened the locker.

Lee Hana—head cheerleader of Levanter’s pep squad, and in your humble opinion, the spawn of Satan herself.

“Ohmigosh,” she exclaimed, raising one hand to her mouth in mock horror, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.”

The crowd around you was beginning to snicker and point, and you felt your face growing redder by the minute. “What are you doing here?” You asked tersely, motioning towards the locker above yours. “That’s not even your locker.”

Hana smiled and held up a small, glittery package. Oh. You didn’t have to look closer to know that the envelope was a love letter, elaborately tied to a box of expensive chocolates—the kind your parents would probably have to work overtime to afford. “My Valentine—for your locker buddy,” Hana replied matter-of-factly, then added, “Not that you would understand, hm? Since you’ve never received one yourself, and all.”

A smattering of laughs erupted from the crowd that was building around you. Biting back a retort, you looked down at all the other Valentine’s trinkets that had spilled around you. Of course—you should have gotten used to it by now. After all, your locker was right underneath the one that belonged to the student librarian, school heartthrob, and the absolute bane of your existence, Lee—

“Minho!” Hana exclaimed, and you looked up to see him shuffling through the crowd, his eyes briefly falling on yours. You immediately turned away as the pretty cheerleader skipped up to him, and shoved your books into your bag. Slamming your locker shut—twice, because Levanter’s damned lockers always jammed before shutting properly—you snatched up as many of Minho’s fallen Valentine’s Day trinkets as you could before shoving them back into the now-emptied top locker. The metal door was still swinging wide open. You’d overheard Minho complaining to the boy who always did the announcements—Han Jihyun? Han Jisung?—about how he kept losing his own lock. Both of you seemed to have a habit of misplacing things (not that you liked to admit to that similarity).

Out of the corner of your eye, Minho was still watching you over Hana’s shoulder, his lips tilted in a half-smile. Your gut twisted unpleasantly. Four years and counting—that was how long you’d ended up with a locker right under Minho’s.

“You’re so lucky!” Lia—your best friend—had gushed, while you had scoffed in utter disbelief.

“Oh, sure. Just my rotten luck.”

“Come on, y/n. Are you still hung up about that love letter from freshman year?”

Yes, you had thought sourly. “No way,” you had snapped, and Lia had giggled, unconvinced.

It wasn’t like you’d always had a personal vendetta against Minho. In fact, in ninth grade, you’d been head over heels for him, just like the rest of the student body—to the point where you’d even slipped a small love letter into his locker on Valentine’s Day, too. It had been one of those gaudy 99-cent corner-store cards, and you'd saved up your pocket money just to buy a matching pack of candy hearts. Then you’d spent the day with butterflies in your stomach, anxiously waiting nearby his locker to see his reaction.

But when he hadn’t shown up, you'd shrugged and begun heading home—and that was when you had caught sight of Minho, throwing all the love letters he’d received straight into the Dumpsters in the back parking lot.

Talk about a reality check.

As if that hadn't been traumatizing enough, you’d been forced to face him nearly every morning for the following three years. To make matters worse, being Minho’s involuntary locker mate also meant that all the girls—and guys, for that matter—saw you as little more than a stepping stone to him, always asking you to relay party invitations or trying to curry favour with you to get to him.

“We’re not close,” you’d insist to his persistent admirers every time, but it didn’t help. Minho, on the other hand, you thought bitterly, seemed to think he was too good for anyone—he didn’t even respond much to Hana’s advances, and she was drop-dead gorgeous. There was no way he’d even look twice at you—you’d been firsthand witness to that. You finally gave up trying to clean up the fallen Valentines, and stood up with a sigh. Throwing him a death glare, you pushed past the crowd just as the bell rang and students began scurrying away.

What did it matter if Lee Hana was trying to get with Minho? If anything, they were a match made in heaven. Or hell. With a decided huff, you plopped yourself down at your desk just as your English teacher began class.

“We’re starting the poetry unit today! Remember, you’ll be writing a love poem of your own for the final project—so I suggest you all get started on reading!” You teacher had winked and clapped her hands excitedly while a collective groan had swept through your class. A few couples had nudged each other meaningfully, already promising to write their poems about each other, and you’d thrown up a little in your mouth.

Romance was a bit of a touchy subject for you— now, you didn’t hate the notion of love, per se, you’d just always been somewhat...wary of it. After watching your friends fall in and out of disastrous relationships and fleeting feelings from the sidelines too many times to count, your own defense mechanisms had skyrocketed, and now you found yourself trying not to roll your eyes at every piece of romantic writing you read. Still, this inexperience only made you more determined to get a head start on the topic— and so, once the last bell had rung, you made a beeline for the school library. You would tackle love the only way you knew how to—by hitting the books. Pushing open the door, you overheard Hana and her friends muttering in disappointment and immediately recoiled.

“You said he’d be in here!”

“Well, I thought I saw him! Let’s wait for a bit.”

You peeked over the librarian’s desk, and sure enough, it was vacant— save for a tray of half-shelved books and stamping cards. Maybe Minho left early today, you thought, shrugging. That’s a relief. Then you shook your head quickly. What’s it to me whether he’s here or not? You tried to ignore Hana’s disdainful glance at you, heading straight towards your favourite nook at the back of the library instead: a cozy alcove tucked behind the last row of shelves. With a deep sigh, you pulled out the first book of poetry your teacher had assigned—Shakespeare’s Complete Sonnets—and sank into the bean bag chair.

‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May…’

A couple lines in, and the Englishman’s words were already making your head spin. You grimaced, massaging your temples. ‘A summer’s day?’ Seriously? You could swear you’d seen something less cheesy on a dollar store card. After a couple of pages, you could already feel your treacherous eyelids beginning to droop, fighting to stay awake as you tried to make sense of Shakespeare’s verses. But thy eternal summer...shall not fade...nor lose...possession…

“The library’s closing.”

You jolted awake, hands fumbling blindly before you could even force your eyes open. The library came into focus first—the lights had been dimmed, the flickering EXIT sign from the empty hallway casting a warm glow through the panelled window across the room. A dull headache still throbbed in your temples.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes groggily. You had to practically peel your cheek away from the Shakespeare book, fingers gingerly feeling the dent the cover had left in your cheek. “I-I’m so sorry, I must have—lost track of time studying.”

A familiar chuckle sent your heart plummeting to your stomach. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

When your eyes finally adjusted, your expression automatically soured into a glare.

“Now that’s more like it.” Smirking, Minho crossed his arms, leaning back on a bookshelf. He glanced down at the book in your lap—the book that you clearly hadn’t been studying. “Didn’t know you were one for Shakespeare.”

“I—” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “I’m not. His writing gives me a headache. It’s like it’s all in another language or something.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Old English. Why are you reading it, then?”

“We’re doing poetry in class—and our final project is to write an actual love poem, based on the poets we’ll study. Shakespeare was just first on the reading list, so…” you felt yourself trailing off, flustered. Why were you even bothering to explain this to Minho, who probably couldn’t care less? “Nevermind.”

You felt his piercing gaze on you as you shoved your books into your bag, glancing outside at the nearly emptied parking lot. If you squinted, you could spot a couple—Seo Changbin, judging by the male’s iconic leather jacket, and his lover—making out under the bleachers. You shook your head incredulously. Valentine’s Day. Love poems. Hormonal couples galore. It was like the universe was playing a long, cruel joke on you: Ha-ha, look who’s spending Valentine’s Day studying in the library alone.

Well, alone except for a student librarian with whom you had a mortifying history. Not much better. Eager to leave, you got to your feet, only to see Minho flipping through a smaller book he’d pulled off the shelf next to him. “If you want some real inspiration,” he began slowly, pushing up his glasses, “I’d suggest you start closer to our time period.”

You looked down at the book he was holding up, brow furrowing as you read the title out loud. “Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair. Pablo Neruda.”

“The best Chilean poet of the 20th century,” he nodded. “‘I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way, because I do not know any other way of loving but this.’”

It took you a second to realise Minho was quoting a poem, and you were suddenly grateful that the dimly lit library hid the flush of red that had betrayed your cheeks. Clearing your throat, you mumbled, “That actually sounds...kind of pretty.”

He didn’t look up, but you thought you saw the corners of his mouth shoot up ever so slightly. Maybe the shadows were playing tricks on you? Flipping through the book, Minho fished out a pad of sticky notes from his back pocket and marked a few pages. “Here. ‘The Song of Despair’...‘Tonight I Can Write’...‘Here I Love You.’ Those are good.” Clamping the book shut, he held it out towards you.

You almost thanked him, but the words faltered on your tongue as you took it from him suspiciously. “What’s with the sudden helpful attitude?”

He shrugged. “It’s my job.” You raised an incredulous eyebrow, and he smirked. “Consider it my apology for this morning, then.”

That left you at a real loss for words, and for the first time, you struggled to find a retort. “That’s...considerate of you, apologising on behalf of your girlfriend and all.”

“Hana’s not my girlfriend.”

You breathed a small laugh. “Soon-to-be, then. Don’t break her heart.”

Minho scoffed, bringing the book to the front desk and scrawling your name on the sign-out card. He stamped the dates, then held it out at you before glancing out the window. Dusk had fallen, the empty football field lit only by rows of flickering lampposts. “You can get home safe?”

“Screw off, Lee Minho.” You eyed him warily, shoving the book into your bag before practically running to the double doors. The strange atmosphere that had suddenly built up in the library felt terrifyingly foreign to you, and your first instinct was to be rid of it as soon as possible. In the hallway, you spotted a janitor dumping a bin into a trash bag. A familiar avalanche of pink envelopes and gifts caught your eye, and you felt a wave of humiliation. Just the memory of Minho throwing yours out—after reading it and having a good laugh, no doubt—made you want to ram your head into the lockers all over again. You’ve got no chance with him, y/n, you thought blearily. Right when you’d thought you’d finally come to terms with Minho’s brutal (albeit unintentional) rejection, here he was again: crashing back into your life like some...cat-eyed, pointy-nosed meteor.

“Oh, y/n! One more thing.”

You’d already had one foot out the front door when Minho called your name again, making you jerk your head back in surprise. Minho had his bag slung over one shoulder, a pile of books in his arms as he waved to get your attention. His smile looked almost...genuine in the warm shadows, his round glasses softening his usually sharp gaze. Despite yourself, you felt your heart skip a beat.

Then Minho made a wiping motion over his face and grinned. “You’ve got drool on your chin.”

Your face reddened, and you slammed the library door shut, earning a glare from the janitor down the hall. Smacking the heel of your palm against your forehead repeatedly, you stormed out of the school muttering curses under your breath. Typical Lee Minho.

To your surprise, you practically devoured the poems in less than a week, taken aback at how much you genuinely enjoyed them. It was the first time you didn’t find yourself cringing at romance—and sure enough, in a couple days’ time, you found yourself reluctantly standing back in front of the double doors of the school library once again.

Carefully, you craned your head to peep into the panelled window, scanning the room for Minho. As per usual, a gaggle of girls were huddled on the other side, blocking your view.

“Looking for someone?”

Flinching, you nearly tripped on Hana’s long legs as she came up beside you. Before you could respond, she fixed you with a withering look. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Little Miss Perfect.”

“I—sorry?”

The cheerleader rolled her eyes, sneering. “Don’t act all innocent with me, you sneaky b—”

Sighing, you pushed open the doors before she could finish. Hana followed you into the library, still sputtering angrily. Her hand snatched your arm, French manicure digging painfully into your cardigan.

“The Valentines,” she hissed, and it finally clicked.

She’s talking about the love letters, you realized. The ones Minho throws out every year.

Gut twisting, you looked up to see all the other girls crossing their arms and looking back at you expectantly. “None of you...got a response?” You asked incredulously, already knowing the answer. This happened every year: Expectant admirers showered Minho’s locker with gifts, Minho wouldn’t even glance at them— and then, for some reason, you were left to take the blame. A twinge of annoyance shot through your chest.

“You stole them from his locker, didn’t you?” Hana continued accusingly, pupils shaking. “You sneaky, jealous bitch— of course you did.”

He threw them all out, you wanted to scream back at her, but the words wouldn’t budge from your tongue. Somehow, saying them out loud felt like tearing off the stitches of an old wound; a painful reminder of your personal humiliating memory. And—though you hated to admit it—a small part of you still didn’t have the heart to throw Minho under the bus just yet, even after all that he’d done.

Feeling defeated, you sighed and turned towards her. “Why would I want to do that?”

Hana scoffed, tossing her chocolate curls over one shoulder. “Oh, please. We all know you’ve had a massive one-sided crush on him since ninth grade.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks, the other girls’ snickers at your reaction drowning out any of your protests. “That’s not—”

“Not true? Then—is it mutual?” Hana sneered mockingly. “Don’t make me laugh. He wouldn’t be caught dead with the likes of y—”

“Can I help you with anything?”

The small crowd fell silent as Minho appeared from one of the aisles, eyebrows raised slightly in his usual nonchalant manner. A chill of panic rushed down your spine, palms growing clammy with cold sweat. H-how much did he overhear? In your peripheral, Hana was practically batting her eyelashes at him, but Minho’s mild eyes were focused on yours expectantly.

“I—uh. Well,” you stammered eloquently, your entire body suddenly paralyzed. Hana’s cherry red lips were twisted in a smug smirk, clearly waiting for you to embarrass yourself. “The book,” you blurted, immediately rummaging for the poetry book in your bag and holding it out to him.

Minho took it from you, fingertips grazing yours slightly. They were surprisingly warm. “How’d you find it?”

“R-really good, actually.” Then, you hesitantly added, “I...like the way Neruda uses imagery—he’s precise without being plain, and artful without deviating too much into purple prose. I think I liked Tonight I Can Write the most— y’know, ‘Tonight I can write the saddest lines...’” You swallowed, then instantly began regretting having ever spoken. Great job, y/n, now you sound like a full-blown nerd.

But Minho nodded, his eyes gleaming. “‘I loved her, and sometimes, she loved me, too.’”

“That’s the second verse,” you muttered automatically, and his lips twitched.

“It’s one of my favourite lines.”

The other girls had begun to awkwardly shuffle out of the library, their absence easing your racing heart. With just a few mildly spoken words, you noted, Minho had managed to make you feel as though you had blocked out the rest of the world. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Hana glaring daggers at you, and the small smile dropped from your face.

“Do you need something?” Minho asked her blankly, his gaze trailing down to Hana’s hand, which was still painfully latched onto your arm. With a roll of her eyes, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the library.

As soon as she was gone, you breathed an audible sigh of relief. Minho was peeling the sticky notes off from the poetry book you’d returned, eyes still watching you intently. Giving him the side-eye, you deadpanned, “She’s pretty, you know. Maybe you should go talk to her sometime.”

There was a small smile on Minho’s lips. “Does she like Chilean poetry?”

You could only give a short—slightly too shaky for your liking—laugh in response, ruffling your own hair as you tried to calm your frazzled nerves. Don’t forget, y/n. One, that he’s out of your league. Two, how this was all his fault to begin with.

“Is that all you came here for?” Minho’s voice broke into your thoughts again, making you jump. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. He finds this—me—amusing.

“Well…” you looked down at your feet, then grudgingly nodded at the poetry book you’d just returned. “Do you...have any other recommendations?”

Minho’s face broke into a shit-eating grin, and you bit back a groan. before your pride got the better of you and you changed your mind, he was already heading towards the back of the library, sliding books out as you struggled to keep with his pace. “First of all, Dickinson. Hit-or-miss, but you never know. Then there’s Sylvia Plath, some Emily Brontë…”

Before you knew it, you’d been whisked into a world of verse and metaphor, flying between numerous time periods and continents as you and Minho perused the shelves. Just like the time when you had accidentally fallen asleep in the library, the library seemed to grow cozier, quieter, more peaceful during moments like these, as if the entire world was holding still as you lost yourself in pages upon pages of books. Soon, you found yourself heading to the library nearly every day after school. Despite yourself, you found yourself looking forward to that sunset hour, the fleeting period where most students had left, and the entire library would glow warm as though it were blushing under the swathes of golden light. And in these same fleeting moments, you found your gaze lingering more and more on Minho—the way he would push his silver glasses on, furrowing his brow in concentration whenever he searched for a book, or run his long fingers over their worn spines whenever he was lost in thought—

“Like what you see?” With a flinch, you realised Minho had begun walking back towards you, a crooked smirk on his lips as he set a new pile of books down at the desk you were sat at.

“No!” You snapped, too quickly. “Just—spaced out for a bit. Too concentrated on the project.”

The smirk hadn’t budged from Minho’s face, and you resisted the urge to throw a copy of Emily Dickinson’s Selected Poems at his long, pointy nose. “Mm. You seem to be coming here a lot more often.”

“That’s because the due date is coming up.”

“No. I mean, you seem to be talking to me a lot more.”

You rolled your eyes, snatching a book from the top of his pile as you muttered, “Screw you, Lee Minho.”

His eyebrows shot up in wicked mischief. “You’re more than welcome to try.”

With a cry of exasperation—and surprise at having been heard—you hoisted your book bag onto the table, building a makeshift wall between the two of you.

You didn’t catch the way Minho’s laughter slowly faded as he rested his head on one hand thoughtfully, quietly watching you read. Your lips were pursed in concentration as you muttered your notes under your breath. Cute, he couldn’t help thinking.

Minho had always been good at memorizing things, but he couldn’t remember exactly when you’d begun disliking him so much. You had always intrigued him—what with the way your locker always seemed to be overflowing with books, or how you used to lend him your copy when he forgot his, back in ninth grade. That Valentine’s Day, four years ago, your name had been the only one he’d hoped to find as he rifled through the cards he’d received. But he’d come up empty, and so he’d thrown them all out. And for some reason, you’d been cold to him ever since.

Minho had assumed that you were probably annoyed with all the letters that would fall out of his locker and onto you, and so every year he tried his best to get rid of the Valentines as soon as possible. Nevertheless, you only seemed to be getting more and more annoyed with him.

And now here you were, right in front of him, four years later, and he still couldn’t bring himself to ask you why. Confrontation had never been his strong suit—his words always seemed to come out too blunt, too cold, too soon, and so he’d always avoided bringing it up with you again. Minho sighed, raking a hand through his hair. Written words—that is, books—had always been so much easier than people.

He did, however, remember when he’d started falling for you.

Tenth grade, literature studies. He’d begun arguing against your thesis during one of your presentations, and the two of you had ended up bickering the entire class—pulling out quotes from nearly every chapter of Pride and Prejudice before the class president had to intervene, and your teacher had sent you both to detention.

You had glared at him once, and he’d fallen head over heels.

These violent delights have violent ends, he’d mused in his head back then—Romeo and Juliet—and with the murderous stare Minho sometimes caught you fixing him with, he was willing to bet that you were wishing a violent end on him, too.

He couldn’t pen a love letter to save his life, either— and so, he resorted to pettily glaring at any admirer that approached your locker like Gandalf—you shall not pass—until they backed off. Minho didn’t think you would appreciate him revealing that, either. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous his actions seemed—and like a poorly written plot twist, you had ended up stumbling back into his life again. Never in his life, however, did Minho think that Pablo Neruda would become his wingman. Glancing down at his portrait on the back cover of the book, Minho could almost imagine the Chilean poet pointing his pen threateningly: “Don’t screw this up.”

“Hey, Minho?” He snapped out of his thoughts to see you waving your hand at him from the other side of your book bag. “You were right. I don’t get any of Dickinson’s poems.”

Your words took a moment to register, Minho caught off-guard by the soft golden hour light illuminating your pretty features. You waved your hand in his face again, and he blinked, breath caught in his throat. Almost tripping over his tongue, he finally quipped, “How on earth are you passing AP English?”

You glowered and smacked his shoulder, the near-silent library ringing with Minho’s laughter once again.

With a week left to the deadline, you were planted at your desk in your room, the wastebasket littered with crumpled up half-sheets of notebook paper. To your dismay, none of the words seemed to be coming out the way you wanted them to. Gnawing the back of your pencil in frustration, you dumped the contents of your book bag onto the desk, and spotted your latest library book—100 Love Sonnets, by Pablo Neruda. Inexplicably, out of all the poets Minho had introduced to you, you always found yourself coming back to him.

Flipping through the well-thumbed pages, your fingers stopped at one titled Sonnet XVII. “I love you without knowing how,” your eyes scanned the verse curiously, “or when, or from where. I love you simply…”

It was the poem Minho had quoted that evening in the library, you realized, heart skipping a beat. “...without problems or pride / I love you in this way, because I do not know any other way of loving / but this, in which there is no I or you / so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand / so intimate that when I fall asleep, your eyes close.”

With a sigh, you buried your head in your arms, lying face-down onto the desk. Maybe the reason why you instinctively disliked reading love poems so much was because of the sheer sincerity of them all. You envied their ability to put feelings into words—with unabashed, unapologetic ardour, and be celebrated for it, to boot. Eyes scanning the verses again, your mind wandered to the way Minho’s eyes had lit up as he’d explained the lines to you, his brow furrowed in focus.

At Levanter High, you had grown used to being pushed around and out of the spotlight. It was either the popular girls and their backhanded compliments, or the boys who spoke to you condescendingly just to a) get you to do their homework, or b) get in your pants. But Minho had always taken you seriously, albeit while driving you half-insane with his infuriating remarks. And as much as you hated to admit it, that same fiery look in his eyes whenever he got worked up—so different from his usual reserved facade in front of the teachers and swooning students—had always made your heart skip a beat. In tenth grade—back when he seemed to pick a fight with you nearly every English class until Bang Chan had to hold the two of you back from killing each other—you’d thought you’d successfully quashed your feelings for the mild-voiced, hazel-eyed librarian. Yet every time he spoke, he left you feeling vulnerable, disarmed, and you were back—though you refused to admit it—to square one.

“‘I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul,’” you whispered, fingers tracing the words on the paper. Feeling a sudden surge—of confidence, or simply exasperation, you weren’t sure—you seized the pen and began scribbling on a new piece of paper. For years, you’d been afraid to face your feelings, terrified of the humiliation if Hana—or anyone at school—found out. But if getting them all out in one cheesy, hot mess of a love letter could give you some closure, you thought tensely, you were more than happy to oblige. You would write it all out under the guise of a love poem, and then it would never have to see the light of day again.

Words began coming to your head like a floodgate had been thrown wide open, and you began scrawling onto the page. “‘I love you as the plant that never blooms, but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers,’” you quoted thoughtfully as you drafted your own poem. In a way, it felt cathartic—you could get all your feelings out, pass it off as an assignment, and never think about the forbidden fruit again. For all you knew, it was a win-win situation. The pen kept wobbling, ink spilling out haphazardly and skipping, but you relaxed slightly. Maybe this assignment wasn’t too bad, after all.

Head filled to the brim with poetry, you set the pen down and dozed off.

“You’re not coming to the football game?” Lia flashed puppy eyes at you, and you smacked her hand playfully, swiping a french fry from her plate.

“Lia, since when have I ever gone to one?” The two of you had dropped by the Sunshine Coffee Shoppe for a quick pick-me-up during lunch hour, but one smile from the cute waiter—Yang Jeongin, if you remembered his name correctly—had dazzled Lia into ordering an extra burger combo, complete with a plate of fries. “Sports and crowds—not my thing. And I have an English project due the next day.”

She pouted. “Oh, come on! Knowing you, you’ve probably already finished it by now.”

You grinned, thinking back to your love poem and fighting the urge to cringe. You’d read it the morning after, and it had taken every fibre in your being to hold yourself back from ripping it to shreds. Piercing, catlike eyes, you’d written in one line. Silver spectacles. Long fingers on dusty pages. Shuddering, you’d stuffed it into the Neruda book before banishing them both to your locker and going about your day. Love poems are supposed to be cheesy, y/n, suck it up. It’ll only be this one time. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone other than your teacher would ever read it.

When you dropped by the library after school, you spotted Hana’s familiar figure by one of the cubicles. As she tossed her hair over her shoulder with a laugh muted by the plexiglass windows, you saw that she was talking to a grinning Minho.

“Are you sure you’re not coming to the game on Thursday?” Hana was whining as you pushed open the doors to the library. She patted his arms playfully. “You could be on the football team if you wanted to, you know! Why don’t you try?”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not that quick on my feet.”

“Well, tell you what. They’re having a party at Hyunjin’s place right after—his parents are out of town. If you don’t feel like coming to the game, at least join us at the afterparty to loosen up a little—have a little fun.” She blew him a kiss and stood, throwing her purse over her shoulder and spotting you. You instinctively froze, bracing yourself for whatever slew of insults she had for you today, but all Hana did was beam and wave at you.

As she passed you by the door, she threw you a knowing wink. “Have fun on your little study date!”

Her words made your ears grow hot again, but to your surprise, there was no trace of venom in her voice — only a lighthearted teasing, as if she had been your friend all along. Hana really did look sweet when she smiled genuinely, and you could see why she had so many people easily wrapped around her finger. Maybe people do change. Or she’s just in a good mood. Before you could shrug and turn away, you sensed Minho’s presence behind you and yelped.

He held his hands up in mock surrender, and you could swear he was suppressing a laugh. “Here to work on your project again?”

Hana’s strange exchange with you on her way out had left your mind reeling, and you scrambled to form coherent sentences. “No, I, um—I actually finished it last night. I just…” Thought I’d just drop by to say hi. But your pride turned the words to mush before they had even formed, and you ended up trailing off awkwardly.

“Really?” There was a flash of disappointment in his face, then Minho’s gaze landed on the book-borrowing register on the front desk. “Right—your book is due today. Did you want to return it?”

Your eyes widened, silently cursing at your own forgetfulness. “Um—yes,” you lied, pretending to search in your bag before giving an awkward laugh. “Yep. I think it’s in my locker—let me go get it.”

After jogging to the other side of the school, you flung open the bottom locker, making another mental note to replace your missing lock. Still catching your breath, your hand sifted through the notes and textbooks before coming up empty. Where is it? You could swear you remembered putting it there, unless—

Breath catching in your throat, you shut the locker with a mortified bang. The English classroom. You practically sprinted down the hallways, earning another dirty look from the janitor as you raced past. Bang Chan looked up in alarm when you nearly crashed into the English classroom door. The entire room was empty, save for the class president, who looked like he was helping to file the teacher’s papers.

“Where’s the fire?” He asked jokingly as your eyes frantically raked the room.

“Have you—seen a book, by any chance? 100 Love Sonnets. Pablo Neruda.”

Chan frowned. “We shelve all the books after class, and if it’s one we don’t recognize, we keep it until the students come back in the morning.” He shrugged. “I don’t remember seeing anything.”

Your heart sank, and you saw the corners of Chan’s mouth lift bemusedly.

“What’s the hurry, anyway? I thought you hated love po—”

With a groan of frustration, you left the baffled class president staring after you as you turned on your heel and back into the hallway. Your mind was racing, panic making your ears buzz. The love letter’s in there. Where the hell did I put it? You sprinted to the Sunshine Coffee Shoppe next, but only got an apologetic shrug from Jeongin even after you’d scoured every nook and cranny of the diner. The sun was already beginning to set as you trudged, defeated, back to the school. Spotting the library’s dim windows in the distance, you wrestled with your options — if it weren’t for that cursed love letter, you could’ve probably just told Minho you’d misplaced it. But now the book—along with everything you’d never dared to tell anyone, crammed onto a sheet of notebook paper—could be anywhere, and there was no way in hell you were going to stop looking until you found it. Heart heavy with dread, you did a full 180 and began walking home.

It was no use. You’d practically pulled an all-nighter tearing your room apart searching for the book— and then, the better part of the following day running around town. But no matter where you looked—the record shop, Blockbuster’s, or even the laundromat—you came up empty.

It’s like it’s disappeared entirely, you thought as the lunch ladies piled your tray with a few sad-looking burritos. The cafeteria was buzzing with teenagers jittery with caffeine and sugar, and you had to duck as a boy chucked an apple at another across the room. You passed the cheerleaders’ table, trying to avoid eye contact, but their giggly conversation carried over the chaotic commotion.

“Did you see how cute Hyunjin looked today on the field?”

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend? Maybe Hana can talk to him for us—if he doesn’t fall for her first.” The blonde cheerleader that had spoken nudged the older girl insistently.

“Me?” There was a smile in Hana’s voice. You could feel her eyes on you as she mused, “Oh, I don’t know, Hyunjin’s not my type. I much prefer boys with—how should I put it—catlike eyes, silver spectacles, and long fingers perfect for turning dusty pages…” She clasped her hands together in mock adoration, and her friends erupted in giggles.

“What the hell was that? Sounds like a cheesy love poem.”

You had frozen stiff as soon as she had uttered the words, stunned eyes finding Hana’s only a couple feet away. She gave you a winning smile—the same one you’d deemed friendly just a couple days ago—and winked.

“Give me my book back.”

You pulled her aside after the last bell had rung, voice shaking. Hana only tilted her head innocently, eyes round as a puppy’s. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Before you could spit a biting retort back at her, the taller cheerleader tapped her chin thoughtfully with one bejewelled nail. “But I might think harder if...I got a little something in return.”

You grit your teeth. “What do you want?”

“Make your librarian boy come to Hwang Hyunjin’s party as my date,” Hana beamed, “and tell the office you want to change your locker.”

“You’re crazy,” you blurted, and her face immediately darkened. Dropping her voice, she leaned in closer, until her voice was right beside your ear.

“Oh, I can be even crazier. What would happen if I made copies of this little letter on Monday, hm? Or published it in the school paper for everyone to read? I’m sure Han Jisung would love that—”

Your eyes trailed down to the slip of paper she’d pulled out of her purse, the sight of your own familiar handwriting making panic surge through your veins like ice. Snatching it from her hand, you quickly began tearing it apart before noticing the calm smirk on Hana’s face.

“Photocopy, silly,” she giggled in a sing-song voice as you peered more closely at the shredded pieces, hands shaking. “Oh, all right, don’t cry. If you want the original so badly…” she leaned in again, cruel smile on her lips. “Then you might want to look in the library.”

Eyes widening, you immediately pushed her away and bolted for the stairs. “Don’t forget the deal! Thursday night,” Hana called after you, and you broke into a run.

Most of the classrooms were already empty, their dark windows reflecting your own face back at you as you hurtled past them. Your heart pounded in your chest as the library finally came into view at the end of the hallway, but you nearly came to a screeching halt when you saw that the lights had been turned off. Had Minho gone home early? Chewing your lip anxiously, you peered past the plexiglass. Aisles empty, books all shelved neatly, chairs stacked. The library was quiet as a tomb. Desperately, you tried the knob—and to your surprise, the door creaked open. Maybe he forgot to lock it. You had nothing to lose. Holding your breath, you slipped in.

Even the faint click of the door closing again sounded deafening. You rifled through the front desk first, dropping to a crouch as you inspected the carts and borrowing-bin. To your dismay, they were all empty—they must have all been re-shelved already. Heart sinking, you began tip-toeing through the shelves, fingers trembling as they ran over the laminated Dewey Decimal labels. Please, please, please…

You reached the poetry section at the back of the library, eyes squinting to try and read the spines of the books under shrouds of shadows. Poets— Nash. Naidu. Nemerov…

“Neruda,” you gasped, eyes falling on the book you had practically gone through hell searching for. 100 Love Sonnets. Almost sobbing in sheer relief, you reached out to grab it—just as another hand shot out from beside you. Your yelp of surprise broke the still, dim quiet, and you didn’t have to look up to know who the warm, pale fingers belonged to.

“Care to explain what you’re doing here?”

Spectacles glinting under the twilight, one hand in his pocket, nonchalant as ever, was the boy that had gotten you into this mess. Lee Minho.

As you stared back at him, mouth slightly agape, you felt as though your entire world was balancing precariously over a yawning abyss— as if one wrong move would send everything you’d spent the last two months—no, the last four years—repatching. You swallowed hard. His hand had landed a split-second later than yours, holding both you and the book in place, and you tried to ignore the feeling of his warm fingers on your chilled skin. Forcefully, you yanked the book from the shelves and out of his grasp. “The—book. I-I realised I still needed it for the project. It’s due this Friday, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. “Today’s only Wednesday. Why not come back tomorrow morning?”

Shit. “I, um, promised Lia I’d go with her to the game tomorrow,” you fibbed, flipping through the book quickly, ready to grab any stray piece of paper that flew out. Nothing. “So I—need to finish the assignment today. Could you renew it for me?” Trying to plaster on an unbothered smile, you flipped through the book again. Still nothing. Had Hana lied to you?

In your peripheral, you saw Minho slowly shift his weight, crossing his arms as he mused, “Well, I’m not too sure about that. We’re getting...careful about letting students borrow books for too long. People tend to leave some...strange things in them.”

Your eyes snapped up, fingers freezing on the fluttering pages. “What—then did you—see anything? S-strange, I mean.”

A flicker of amusement passed through Minho’s eyes, and then it was gone. He cleared his throat, humming thoughtfully. “Why? Do you have something in mind?”

The strange intensity of his gaze seemed to corner you into the shadows, and you swore your heart was pounding so hard it seemed to echo through the room. “Nothing,” you stammered, throwing your hands up in exasperation, “I mean, I just—accidentally left—” Kill me now. You shook your head rapidly. “N-nevermind. I’m heading home.”

“Y/N—”

“Oh, one more thing.” You turned, remembering Hana’s sly words to you back in the stairwell. “You’re invited to Hwang Hyunjin’s party, after the game on Thursday.” Then, hoping you sounded more convincing than you felt, “Hana’s really counting on you to be her date.”

Minho chuckled. “You know I go to parties as often as you do.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no malice in his words, only that same, airy indifference Minho always carried himself with. “Please? Hana—I mean, it would make her really happy if you went.”

“Would you be happy?”

The strange question caught you off guard, making you look up again. Minho was no longer smiling. His hand was still resting lightly over the missing space the book had left on the shelf, and his expression looked strangely lost under the twilit sky.

“Would it make you happy if I went?” He repeated, and you felt your mouth go dry.

Make your librarian boy come to Hwang Hyunjin’s party, and I won’t publish your little love letter for everyone to see on Monday. You nodded firmly, laughing in an attempt to ease the strange atmosphere that had settled over the two of you once again. “Y-yeah. Ecstatic.”

You turned on your heel, breath leaving your lips in a shaky sigh. If the poem wasn’t in the book, where on earth could it be? Option one: It had fallen out somewhere along the way, and hadn’t fallen into anyone’s hands. The best case scenario. Option two: Hana had been playing with you again, and she had had the original all along. Option three…

“By the way, Hana told me not to give this to you.”

You whirled around in surprise, and your eyes landed on a horribly familiar piece of notebook paper dangling from Minho’s fingers. Option three, damn it all. Mortified, you snatched it from his hand, crumpling it into your fist as he laughed lightly.

“It’s a very good poem.”

“Shut up, Lee Minho,” you wailed, wishing the ground would just swallow you up and bury you six feet under for all of eternity. “It’s a cheesy, cliché wreck.”

He hummed in amusement. “What were you writing about?”

Paralyzed, your eyes flickered towards the window before sputtering, “The—sunset. Figurative approach, you know? Emily Dickinson-inspired—”

“Mm. Then what was that quote about—” He tilted his head in thought, fingers snapping. “Catlike eyes, silver spectacles, and long—” He stopped when you plugged your ears instinctively, eyes glowering at him in disbelief. If looks could kill, Minho was sure he’d now have died more times than the characters in a Shakespearean tragedy. “—was that about the sunset, too?”

“Of course,” you snapped, your voice a tad too pitchy for your liking. Damn Lee Minho and his knack for memorizing things. “Haven’t you ever heard of extended metaphors? Rest assured, Lee Minho—I will never, ever, ever—have feelings for you.” You crumpled the sheet of poetry into a ball as you spoke with a note of finality, jamming it into your back pocket for good riddance.

Minho looked unfazed, the light curve of a knowing smile playing on his lips. After a moment, he took a step towards you, making you stumble back in alarm. “‘You can cut all the flowers,” he mused, glancing down at the crumpled love letter, “‘but you cannot stop spring from coming.’”

“Wh-wha—”

“Neruda quote. Tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable, and I’ll stop,” he murmured, eyes growing serious for a moment before his lips twitched with mirth, “but something tells me I deserve to hear more about that sunset from your poem.”

Gulping, you felt hot tears brimming in your eyes, and suddenly wished you were anywhere but here. This confrontation had been your worst nightmare, what you had always wanted to avoid. Your pride’ll be the end of you, y/n, you remembered Lia remarking when you’d sworn up and down that your feelings for Lee Minho were a thing of the past. And it was true—your pride had always gotten the better of you. You were a hypocrite, and a terrible one at that—always telling yourself you had gotten over that stupid, ninth-grade heartbreak, before unravelling into a nervous mess whenever Minho so much as threw a glance at you. And now, you could feel everything you’d feebly repressed for the last four years caving in. Crashing down on you like an avalanche of cheap supermarket chocolates.

“It was about you. You, alright?” You hissed, voice coming out more wounded, rather than venomous like you’d intended. “There. Are you happy now?” You were glad the shadows hid the humiliated tears beginning to roll down your cheeks, and wiped at your eyes furiously. Damn it all. So much for not crying.

“Then why didn’t you—”

“Say anything?” You breathed a short laugh. “Because I didn’t want to see you just throw it out again, okay?”

The silence that met your words was deafening, and when you finally mustered the courage to lift your gaze you saw that Minho’s look of disbelief mirrored your own.

“'Again?'”

Damn Lee Minho and his two-faced ass. Had he already forgotten? “In ninth grade. I left you a—stupid love letter in your locker, with all your other Valentines. Then I s-saw you throwing them all out, behind the school.”

“But I read every name on the cards,” Minho insisted, running a hand through his tousled hair. I left you—a stupid love letter in your locker. Your words sent his head spinning, and he felt his flustered cheeks heat up as he mumbled, “I’ve never—seen yours on any of them.”

Now it was your turn to blink in confusion. Minho’s brow furrowed in vague recollection. “But I did see Hana pulling an envelope out from my locker that day. She said that—she’d heard someone had been sending chain mail on Valentine’s Day, so she was helping the principal clean them up from people’s lockers.”

Hana? Your mind flashed to the missing locks, and the cheerleader that always seemed to be hanging around your locker, and suddenly everything dawned on you. “What did the envelope look like?”

“A corner store card. With—”

“Candy hearts. Right.” You muttered, watching Minho nod slowly. Your anger faltered slightly, feeling a slight shame wash over you, but you weren’t willing to give up just yet. “That still doesn’t explain why you dump out all the gifts you get every year.”

He sighed. “Look. Why would I keep love letters from people I don’t like? That’s just...narcissistic. And I don’t...like chocolate, either,” he added as an afterthought, and you couldn’t help exhaling a short laugh at his ridiculously blunt sentence. Another silence fell between the two of you, the angry tension in the air replaced with an almost childish awkwardness.

“I really did like the poem,” Minho spoke tentatively after what felt like an eternity, and you buried your head in your hands.

“Shut up, Lee Minho, oh my g—”

“And I wouldn’t have thrown it out.” The soft edge to his voice made you stop, peeking out of your fingers to look at him questioningly.

“Why not?” You asked, swallowing hard. “You said keeping letters from someone you don’t like would be narcissistic.”

He was barely a foot away, and the sheer proximity of his face from yours made your stomach flop—with irritation or butterflies, you weren’t sure you wanted to find out. Nonetheless, a tiny voice at the back of your head told you that you were heading towards the latter.

“You know, for someone who reads so many books, you sure are dense,” Minho murmured, shaking his head.

“Wh—”

“I throw out all my Valentines every year because I never see your name on them, alright?” His expression was as careless as ever—that cool, calm facade he wore like a suit of armour—but you didn’t miss the slight tremor in his voice, the flicker of apprehension in his eyes. Lee Minho, you realized with a jolt, was nervous. “I...only ever wanted to receive one from you.”

Your eyes widened, hands lowering from your face in shock. The book tumbled from under your arm to the ground. “But—Hana always told me about how much you hated me.”

“Hmm.” He dropped down to pick it up before fixing his piercing eyes on yours. “Funny. She’s been telling me the same about you. How you’re a two-faced, back-stabbing...such-and-such,” he smiled at the indignant look on your face before his face grew serious. “You’ve always let people walk all over you, and you never retaliate. It’s both admirable and frustrating to watch.”

“I’m not good at confrontation,” you mumbled, still shifting your weight from one leg to the other nervously. “Every time I think I’ve finally got the guts to try and say something back, I...I get all terrified that the words’ll jumble up and I-I’ll start to cry like an idiot again—”

“You’re not an idiot,” he interrupted sternly, “You’re probably more clever—and genuine—than everyone in our grade combined. Your thesis was brilliant.”

You snorted incredulously. “Then why did you keep attacking it every class?”

“It was the only time I could get you to talk to me.”

“Weirdo,” you muttered, but you couldn’t find it in you to make the word sound insulting anymore. Minho chuckled, hand grazing yours as he handed the book back to you. You didn’t move your hand away, and neither did he.

“It is weird. I must be out of my mind. Whenever you look at me, it’s like the whole world stops, and suddenly every cheesy line of poetry I’ve ever read just seems to make sense.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you were more than certain Minho could hear it. The way he was looking at you was nearly overwhelming, stomach fluttering with a feeling so strange and foreign it terrified you. Never in your wildest dreams had you thought that you would be here, in this delicate, unreal moment, and you felt all your insecurities threatening to swallow you up again. Out of everyone in the school, he likes you? A voice snickered at the back of your mind. Don’t kid yourself.

Shrinking away, you mumbled, “Y-you—don’t have to say stuff like that, you know. I mean, i-if you feel bad because of the letter and everything, you don’t have to pretend you lik—”

There was a flash of an exasperated smile on Minho’s lips. Before you could finish, his hand reached to pull your chin towards him again, and suddenly his mouth was pressed flush to yours. You froze, lips parting in surprise, but the kiss was light—barely even a brush of soft skin, and bringing with it the faint scent of vanilla and old books. Minho pulled away almost as quickly as he’d pulled you in, stammering, “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

That seemed to send what was left of your hesitation crumbling into dust. You grabbed the collar of his dress shirt to pull him back in, and the library fell silent again.

Minho kissed the way he talked—soft but firm, and always leaving you struggling to catch your breath. Each touch had the growing intensity of something long overdue, starting out careful—as though you were treading over the newly shattered, four-year-old misunderstandings of one another—before your hands instinctively tangled in his hair and Minho pulled you in impossibly closer. You could feel his heartbeat pressed against yours, the crumpled poem and Neruda’s sonnets long forgotten on the carpeted ground.

The click of the library door opening sent the two of you flying apart, Minho hitting his head on the shelf with a comical thud. The kiss left you dazed and out of breath, and Minho’s face was flushed as both of you whipped around to see a livid Hana at the front of the library. Mouth opening and closing in silent fury, she shot you a death glare before storming out the door, leaving both you and Minho blinking after her.

Several moments passed, the whiplash of the unexpected interruption having sent both of your heads reeling. Then, the two of you broke into stunned laughter, slowly sliding down to the carpet as you doubled over in giggles.

When you finally stopped laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, Minho’s gaze was fixed fondly on your face. You poked his cheek. “You’re blushing, asshole.”

He didn’t respond, eyes falling to your lips again, and you felt your own face flush. “W-what?”

Minho grinned. “And you have drool on your chin again.”

“Hey, Minho! Minho, you won’t believe this!”

That enthusiastic voice belonged to none other than Han Jisung—voice of Levanter High’s morning announcements, and notorious school gossip. He hurtled down the bustling hall towards you and Minho, hunching over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

“Shit, ‘sung—did you kill somebody?”

The dark-haired boy shook his head rapidly. “Did you see the school newspaper?”

Your mouth went dry, Hana’s lingering threats still ringing clear in your ears. Jisung continued excitedly, “Two people submitted anonymous love poems over the weekend—at the same time! Can you believe it? I’m supposed to cover it on the announcements in a bit!”

Two? You peered at Minho, who hadn’t looked at you, and glimpsed a knowing glint in his eyes. “W-who submitted them?”

“Well, Lee Hana was handing out copies of the first one to everyone first thing this morning. But when I showed her the other one, she refused to tell me who the first belonged to.” He pouted.

Minho looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. “Do you have a copy of the paper, ‘sung?”

The dark-haired boy grinned. “Yeah, ‘course! You guys can have mine. See ya!”

As Jisung disappeared into the crowd of students, you turned back to Minho. He had been in the middle of putting a new lock on your locker, and was now setting the combination on his own. “They’re matching,” he’d pointed out when you’d gone into town together to buy them, and you’d groaned.

“Gro-oss.” The old, PDA-hating you would have probably thrown them away on the spot, but now the sight made you smile like a dork. If you can’t beat em, join ‘em.

You looked down to read the papers Jisung had deposited into your hands. Sure enough, on the left column, you spotted a photocopy of your own love letter. But on the right, there was a completely new one—and you had a sneaking suspicion you knew who the anonymous writer was.

“You know, Minho,” you deadpanned, “I don’t think either of us are cut out to be poets.”

“I stayed up all night writing that love letter, you know!” Minho exclaimed indignantly, and you just shook your head laughing. “But you’re right. I could feel Neruda turning in his grave.”

“You’re going to be the end of me, Lee Minho.”

His face broke into a mischievous grin at that, pinning you playfully to the lockers and stealing another kiss as you yelped in surprise.

“Can it be a happy ending?”

2K notes · View notes

carlisles-girl · 3 years

Note

OMG UR CAIUS FIC WAS SO GOOD COULD YOU DO SOMETHING AB ARO PLEASE

a/n: Thank you so much! I’m very excited to write for Aro, he’s one of my favourite characters, more so because of Michael Sheen’s performance. I put a slight reference to something in this, you might catch it if you know other projects Michael Sheen has been in, but you might not, and that’s alright. Hope you enjoy <3

another a/n: I did put one or two feminine terms in this work, such as ‘mia regina’ which is ‘my queen’ in Italian, so do skip over it or replace it with something else if you’d like. I love writing this type of material in the middle of my classes, it adds so much adrenaline to not get caught.

Aro Volturi With A Human Mate

Instead of being angry and frustrated like Caius, Aro was more excited.

Like as if he was getting ready for a big party.

A human for a mate was inevitable for some vampires, of course, but Aro didn’t expect to be included in the some.

He was excited since it was rare for such high profile vampires to socialize with humans.

Aro often gushed to his brothers, excited to meet you, but also for them to meet you.

He wanted to host a ball for your welcome.

But Marcus noted that it would probably be slightly frightening for you to be in a room full of vampires.

Most of the vampires would look at you as if you were some sort of a snack.

Because it Marcus’ comment, Aro assumed it would be a greater choice to send an invitation to a tour of the castle.

Free of cost, of course.

When you had received the invitation, you were beyond excited.

An invitation to a tour of an ancient castle with endless legends, for free?

Absolutely.

The tour was the next day, so of course you were slightly nervous.

When the tour commenced, a very pretty woman named Heidi lead the tour group.

She began to speak of secrets of the castle, as well as secret corridors and legends.

Some things a normal tour guide would most likely have no idea about.

Heidi then looked in your direction, and smiled brightly at you.

“It’s very lovely here. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Just when she had finished her sentence, she opened the doors where there were three men sitting in thrones, and what seemed to be 4 guards.

The man who sat in the middle, greeted everyone and began speaking greatly of the castle.

He had only stopped when he motioned for your tour guide, Heidi, to come forward.

She did as told, and held her hand out towards him.

You would have thought it was to greet him, but it seemed like he was concentrated, or zoned out.

“Magnifico! I will get Demetri to escort them.” (Translation: “Magnificent! I will get Demetri to escort them.”

A man who you assumed was Demetri, walked in your direction.

“Come with me, all will be alright, rest assured. However, do not look behind you.”

You went with him, doing as he said, but immediately turned around when the rest of the tour began screaming.

“What the hell was that?!”

Demetri just grabbed your wrist and brought you upstairs.

“Just stay in here, I’ve been instructed to keep you under my eye. Aro will explain everything to you.”

“Aro?”

“The man who sat in the middle throne.”

You nodded, and decided to sit on one of the window seats.

You wanted to ask Demetri as many questions as you wanted to, but you didn’t want to bother him, or disrupt him from his job.

When the door had opened and Demetri bid his farewells, you had turned around and saw Aro.

“You must be Y/n, correct?”

“Yeah, and you’re Aro?”

“I am, I assume you have a good amount of questions?”

You nodded, and Aro moved swiftly but smoothly towards the opposite side of the window seat.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

He sat opposite to you, and smiled slightly at you.

“There’s no need to be afraid of me, or the others. You’re the most safe you could ever be in the castle. I promise you, I will keep you safe.”

“May I ask why the rest of the tourists were screaming when I left?”

“I sense that that question should be answered later, appropriately.”

You were slightly frightened as to what the final answer would be, it could be anything.

Perhaps there was a reenactment of the past after you had been escorted, one of the tourists got pushed and the rest screamed since one of them fell, or the worst:

They were murdered.

“I feel like I already know what happened.”

“I sense that you do know, too. I will tell you everything in a moment. But for now, would you care to lend me your hand?”

You trusted Aro, though you were positive your ancestors were screaming from above or below not to trust him.

You held your hand out in front of him, and before he held your hand in his own, he asked for permission or something else.

“I want you to think of the happiest memory you have stored in your mind, I will describe it to you. I will not see anything else besides the things you want to show me, unless I have your permission.”

You thought of a memory, and then placed your hand in Aro’s palm.

He covered the back of your hand with the palm of his other hand, then he began telling you small details of your chosen memories you had even forgotten about.

When he was finished, he brought his head up from looking down, and smiled at your face of bewilderment.

“That is so cool! Is that like your superhero power?”

Aro smiled widely at your interest in his gift, and began explaining what his was.

“I have a gift, it’s called tactile telepathy. I can read everyone’s thoughts and memories with a single touch. The others in this coven have multiple different gifts, they help keep us safe.”

“So you’re all like superheroes?”

“Vampires, darling.”

After that, Aro enjoyed seeing your memories whenever you two were apart for some sort of time.

Especially say you were having a difficult time attempting to explain something to him, he would hold your hand and immediately understand what you were trying to say.

“I understand you, cara mia. I always will.”

And he was right, he understands you in every way possible.

Aro memorized your body language on how you react to different things, as well as your facial expressions.

When you’re uncomfortable with something, he will do absolutely everything in his power to make you comfortable.

Aro will burn down the entire world for you.

When it’s time for you to go to sleep, you best believe that Aro set up the most lavish and comfortable room for you.

The best and most comfortable bed, of course.

You lay down on his chest, and he brushes the hair out of your face, admiring your tired eyes looking back at him.

“Would you like for me to read to you, dearest?”

You nodded your head, and Aro would get up from wherever he was seated, swiftly retrieve a book, lay back down next to you, and begin reading.

He loved having you hold his hand while he read, it lets him see what you’re imagining the scene that he’s reading to you.

And when you fell asleep while he was reading, he would be so very content.

You curled up next to him, sound asleep on his chest.

Aro adored seeing what you were dreaming.

He loved how humans brains worked while they were sleeping, keeping your mind entertained with multiple little scenarios.

When you woke up, however, Aro would prefer to have you describe your dreams, if you remembered them.

He loved to learn more about humans, especially in the modern age.

And you loved to learn more about vampires, especially in the ancient times.

Aro would often tell you stories of each coven he encountered, his old family and friends, and his past human life.

As much as he wants you to be changed into a vampire like the rest, he can’t help but smile whenever you got slightly nervous around him, stuttering over your words, and hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment.

He pays attention to little details about you.

Especially your eyes.

Even the shade of your eyes stops him from changing you. Your eyes wouldn’t be as unique anymore, they’d be the same red as everyone else’s.

“You have the most magnificent shade of colour in your eyes, mia regina. I simply cannot get enough of them.”

Being absolute best friends with Demetri.

But wherever Demetri was, Felix wasn’t too far behind.

You three are like a troublemaker trio, always causing trouble and pulling pranks on different members of the guard.

Never Jane or Alec, though. Unless it was a scheduled board game night or something along the lines.

Which Alec loved to take away different players senses, allowing him to cheat in the games you��d play.

He doesn’t do it all the time, though.

Marcus was a lot more welcoming towards you, perhaps more than anyone else.

Whenever Aro couldn’t, he’d show you different areas of the castle you hadn’t seen yet, and would give you wonderful pieces of advice along the way.

“Remember to stay true to yourself, never let anyone think for you.”

Aro will spoil you insanely.

If you mention a specific piece of clothing even once, you better expect that when you wake up the next morning, Aro has an elegantly wrapped package placed at the foot of your bed with a note written in fine handwriting.

“Mia amato, I have seen you speak of this article of fabric, and I have gone out of my way to make sure you have every little thing you admire. I need you to be the happiest you can possibly be. Please accept my gift, and meet me by the gardens by noon. I’ll see you then. Cordialmente, Aro.”

You two have annual walks throughout the garden, usually during golden hour. The sun still above, but setting at the same time, making it seem like Aro was made of a trillion Tiffany Yellow Diamonds.

He loved finding a flower that suited your mood for the day, and putting it behind your ear.

“My beautiful.”

You two often walked either arm in arm, or hand in hand, but sometimes you would hold him closer with your arm wrapped around his waist, your head leaning on his side or shoulder.

Often times, when the moon is visible, you would slow dance together, looking at each other with smiles on your faces, just appreciating each other’s presence.

Usually, Aro would come back into the castle around 2 in the morning, carrying your sleeping self up to your shared room, after you had fallen asleep on his shoulder while sitting in the garden.

The rest of the kings and guards would be predominantly more happy than from before you had arrived.

You had given Aro something to look forward to after trials and mountains of work, something he didn’t have for hundreds of years.

Though, Caius was still slightly jealous of you.

You had practically stolen one, if the not the most, needed member of the vampire world. Aro was nearly as focused on you than he was on trials and legislature.

He’d warm up to you eventually.

At least, you hoped.

Speaking of trials, you wanted to sit in and watch the trials, to see what it was about, and how it worked.

You knew the most of it, of course, Aro had already told you. But you wanted to see it live.

Aro was quick to say no, he didn’t want you to get hurt, or worse, killed.

He understood what would happen to him if his mate was killed, Marcus was the example. He couldn’t even bear the thought of you not being by his side.

Though, you owning the key to his heart, convinced him to let you watch, letting both Jane and Alec stay on either side of you, protecting you if anything were to go wrong.

You would usually sit on Aro’s lap, and then the throne when he had to see what was truly going on by using his gift.

Jane usually stood on the left of the throne, and Alec on the right.

Mainly since Caius sat on the throne in the left, and Jane loved to torture the criminals.

He loved the front seat view.

Constant look backs of reassurance to make sure that you’re alright.

Nearly always having your hand in his.

Forehead kisses.

Constantly bringing the back of your hand up to his lips.

Getting the absolute best care in the world, health wise especially.

When Aro proposed, it was in the bedroom the both of you share, and he was reading some poetry to you.

All was going swell, and then he got to one page.

“I can write no stately poem

As a prelude to my lay;

From a poet to a poem

I would dare to say.

For if of these fallen petals

One to you seem fair

Love will waft it till it settles

On your hair.

And when wind and winter harden

All the loveless land.

It will whisper of the garden,

You will understand.”

At the end, you were leaned up closer to him, looking at him in awe.

He closed the book, and placed it aside gracefully, before leaning slightly closer to you. Placing his hands overs yours.

“Do you remember who wrote that, cara mia?”

“I do. That’s Oscar Wilde, right?”

“That’s right. There’s so much I want to say to you, especially in this particular moment, but I don’t think there’s enough words to express my love and affection towards you. I’ve known you for a little while, and I can feel the bond between us, and I know you can feel it, too. The universe has guided us together, and I am so very thankful for every second we have spent together, and I’m even more thankful for the rest of eternity we have. However, I am the most thankful of the fact that I have the most gorgeous human as a mate. I love you so much, anima mia. Will you do me the best thing that could ever happen to me in my thousands of years, and marry me?”

You said yes, obviously, who wouldn’t?

You leaned over to press your lips against his, as he held one side of your face with one hand, and the other hand slid a ring on your ring finger.

While Aro wanted an extremely lavish wedding, with all the diamonds in the world, you wanted something more of a homely essence.

So you compromised, and had a bit of both.

Aro invited nearly every vampire to the wedding, wanting to show you off in every way he could.

The Denali’s, Cullens, Irish coven, everyone was invited.

Except for the Romanian coven, Vladimir and Stefan. Not trusting them to be in your presence.

The wedding was held in the garden, the arch where Aro stood had your favourite flowers intertwining around it, with diamonds pressed in the centre of each individual flower.

Demetri walked you down the isle, smiling proudly when he handed you over to Aro.

Proud that his leader had finally found true love, and that one of his best friends is finally where they need to be.

After the official wedding ceremony, the rest of the night and day were spent smiling and showing off each other to the guests.

When the night ended, it was finally time for you to be changed to a vampire.

Aro sat by the bed were sitting on, making sure that you were absolutely ready to be converted to a vampire for the rest of eternity.

“Are you ready, my darling?”

You nodded your head, and Aro took one final look into your coloured eyes, attempting to remember every small detail of them.

Aro then moved your hair away from your neck, before placing his lips over where he would finally bite down and turn you immortal.

“Just say when, and I’ll see you after.”

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