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duuhrayliegh · 5 months ago
diner girl
pairing: sebastian stan x reader
summary: reader is a waitress at a late night diner and meets an interesting new customer
warnings: fluffy beginning, language, annoying coworkers, soft!seb (a lil bit), SMUT AT THE END, a lil bit of dom!seb, fingering, vaginal penetration, PROTECTED SEX (wrap it b4 u tap it), google translate romanian (if it’s wrong and you know the correct way to put it, pls tell me, i’ll fix it pronto), lil bit of aftercare, fluffy ending.
a/n: this is my first time writing smut, so be gentle but i do take constructive criticism v well, so if you’ve got it to offer, pls give it. i’ve been in a slump recently bc of classes, i’m abt to start my summer classes and job, so this is going to be tricky but i’ve got y’all covered loves <3
p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open
xoxo ray
ray’s m.list
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Honestly, it looked like something out of one of those ridiculous teen Netflix movies that Anthony was always forcing Sebastian to watch. The neon signs outside flickered from age, only partially illuminating the street below. All Sebastian was really searching for right now was a distraction. Really it seemed like that was all he was ever doing anymore. He could tell his anxiety was getting worse. He was sleeping less and less, the circles under his eyes were getting darker and darker. He just hoped his fans couldn’t tell, not wanting to deal with another lecture from his manager about it.
Sebastian wore a leather jacket over a zip-up hoodie because it was just starting to get into the colder months in New York. His hand reached out to pull the door of the diner open. The smell of grease immediately attached itself to his body and he could tell that it wasn’t going to leave him even after he left his most recent distraction.
“Hey, hun! Just grab a table wherever you want, I’ll be with ya in a jiff, kay?” A feminine voice floated into Sebastian’s ears, but he was unable to tell where it originated from. He shook his head, turning to his left and taking a seat in one of the booths there. The teal fabric of the seat was only slightly sticky so Sebastian just shrugged it off. He looked around the table for a menu, finding it tucked in between the ketchup and mustard bottles pressed against the wall.
He wasn’t really in the mood to eat anything, he really just needed to get out of his apartment and away from everything. He heard footsteps approaching from behind him, and he turned to look at the owner of the steps. A woman wearing a dress that matched the seat covers came up to his table, stopping beside him. She huffed out a breath before taking the seat opposite in the booth.
“Alright, hun.” She pulled out her notepad, placing it on the table in front of her. “Whatcha want tonight?” He didn’t answer for a short while, just taking in the woman opposite him. The woman’s brows rose and a concerned look crossed her face. “Are you alright, sir?” Bucky snapped out of whatever trance he was in, nodding quickly.
“Oh, um, yeah, I- god I’m sorry. I just, I don’t know.” He gripped the menu in his hand tighter as he spoke, his anxiety getting the better of him. What if you recognize him? What if someone else does and somehow notifies the paparazzi.
“You’re perfectly fine, sweetheart! What can I get ya to drink?” Your cheery tone had returned, along with a thickening accent that Sebastian couldn’t quite place.
“Um, just a water for right now.” You nodded, hauling yourself to your feet with a groan. He watched as you walked away. He could tell your feet hurt by the way you stepped, making him wonder how long you had been working. You were gone for a few more minutes before returning with two glasses in your hands. You put one down in front of him before taking your seat across from him again. You drank almost half of your glass before addressing him again.
“Ma’am, are you alright?” Sebastian asked cautiously, you dropped your glass back on the table.
“Oh yeah. Sorry, this is just the first, like, lull that we’ve had of the day, so I’m taking advantage of it.” Your eyes darted around the table. “I can go if I’m freaking you out or if you’re waiting on someone else. You just looked like you could use the company as much as I could use a break so I figured, ‘why not kill two birds with one stone,’ ya know?” The words seemed to have left your mouth before you could stop them. Your lips rolled inward after you rambled, an apologetic look covering your features.
“I so totally didn’t mean for that to sound like I thought you were pathetic or anything. I don’t think that.” Your accent dropped again, which confused him.
“You’re fine, I didn’t think you did.” His reply was short, but he hoped you didn’t take it the wrong way. “I actually don’t know what I want, so what do you recommend?” Your smile widened, as you began listing things off the menu that were your favorite. Sebastian knew he was supposed to be on a diet for his next project, but one cheat day wouldn’t hurt.
He ended up ordering a plate of flapjacks, as they were listed on your menu, and two scrambled eggs and hashbrowns as a side. Before you left the table, you asked if it was okay with him if you ordered some food and ate with him. Sebastian nodded with a smile as you walked away. You came back a few minutes later with a different pair of shoes on your feet and a pitcher of water. You must’ve noticed Sebastian’s stare on your new shoes because you felt the need to justify the switch.
“Look, I’ve been in those shitty ass non-slip shoes for almost eight hours now, I’m allowed to change them if I want, strange man whose name I do not know.” You giggled to yourself as you refilled your glass of water. Sebastian raised his hands in surrender.
“I totally get it.” His eyes roamed over the parts of you that he could see, not finding a name tag anywhere. “What’s your name?” He picked up his water to drink after he asked. You made a face at him, before tapping above your heart. His brows raised as he placed his glass back on the table. “Yeah, there’s nothing there. So, what’s your name?” Your head dropped to look at your uniform and true to his word, there was nothing there.
“Well, shit.” You stuck your hand out over the table for him to shake. “I’m Y/N, but my friends call me Y/N/N. Pleased to meet you,” You paused waiting for Sebastian to fill in his own name.
“Sebastian, but my friends call me Seb.” He wondered why you were asking his name. He wasn’t vain or anything, but he thought he was pretty popular after being in the Marvel movies and all.
“Pleased to meet you, Bastian.” He made a face at you. You weren’t phased by his facial expression, as you explained yourself.
“What the fuck is a Bastian?” You giggled while taking a drink.
“You’re a Bastian. You said your friends called you Seb, but I’m not your friend, least not yet anyway. So, I’m gonna call you Bastian for the time being.” You plastered a smile on your face after finishing your sentence. Sebastian went to say something else when he was interrupted by the sound of a bell dinging. “Oop, that’s our food.” You walked off quickly, your steps much more comfortable in your new shoes which made Sebastian happy for some reason. As you made your way back to Sebastian, he could hear you humming to yourself happily, seeming perfectly content.
“Here’s yours, Bastian. And here’s mine. Come to mama!” You plopped down in the booth and Sebastian laughed. He took a second to look around the diner, there wasn’t anyone else inside except for you and him and he assumed the cook who hadn’t bothered to come out of the kitchen. The two of you began eating in a comfortable silence, which surprised Sebastian. It wasn’t often that he was this relaxed when meeting a new person. It was easy for him at conventions because he was only going to have to interact with his fans one-on-one for a short period of time, but this was different.
“So what brings you out this late, Bastian?” You kept saying that horrible nickname that you coined for him, making him shake his head.
“Just needed to get out of my own head, ya know?” He took a bite of his eggs, “Figured a walk around the city would do me some good.” He watched as you nodded while chowing down on a plate of fries. “What about you? Why are you working so late?” You sighed grabbing your glass.
“Oh, I actually wasn’t supposed to, but Stephanie really needed to go home. She’s pregnant, so it was a no brainer to let her go home and rest.” You turned to point into the kitchen. “George is actually her husband and the owner here.” You grabbed a few more fries before mumbling, “Plus, Joanie didn’t come in for her shift again, so I’m covering for her yet again.” Sebastian could tell you weren’t a fan of this Joanie person. You looked up from the table into Sebastian’s eyes. If you had recognized him you weren’t letting it show.
“Has it at least been an easy shift?” Sebastian wanted to keep the conversation on you, simply because he was interested in what you had to say. You hummed as Sebastian continued eating.
“It’s been normal, I guess? This isn’t my usual shift, so I haven’t had any of my regulars have come in which is annoying. I have gotten all of Joanie’s regulars and I don’t know what kind of catnip she’s putting in the food to give to these men, but they are all kinds of gross.” Anger bubbled in Sebastian’s chest which he immediately questioned. He just met you, but then again he was a good fuckign human who knew that women deserved to be respected.
“The men are gross? How do you mean?” Sebastian didn’t really want the answer, but he had to ask. Your brows raised and you made a face.
“I mean, you know how men are. They’re pigs, no offense to you because you seem normal.” Sebastian laughed, holding his hand up as he chewed, signalling that no offense was taken. “Thankfully, I can handle my own and George is pretty intimidating, so they scamper off pretty quickly after being told no.” That made Sebastian relax back into his seat.
“Well, that’s good, right? I honestly don’t know.” Sebastian watched as you pushed your plate away from you, bringing your knee up to your chest, resting your chin on it.
“It’s not too bad though. I made good money today.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Like long term? Or just today?” Sebastian laughed.
“Well, I’ve been working here since my junior year of college which was about three years ago. I’m working to pay for my master’s. And I’ve been here since five.” Sebastian’s eyes bulged, darting down to his watch.
“It’s two in the morning, Y/N.” You shrugged.
“I told you Joanie didn’t come in, she was supposed to relieve me at eleven!” A loud squeak emitted from the door causing your head to jerk to the new arrival.
“I’ll be right with ya, hun! Take a seat wherever!” Your voice settled back into your accent. You turned back to Sebastian. “Sorry, Bastian. Duty calls, I’ve gotta go.” You stood from the booth, taking your plate and glass. “Also, your meal is on the house.” You winked at him, walking away before he could protest your generosity.
He could hear your accented voice float through the nearly empty diner, enjoying the little lifts and drawls of it. Sebastian watched as you conversed with the other table, a group of high school kids it seemed. He stood from his table when you went to the back, dropping a twenty on the table. He’ll be damned if he was going to let you go away without compensation. When he got back to his apartment, he had no issue falling asleep, something that he felt he had you to thank for.
Today had been a long ass day for you. Your classes this morning started at eight sharp, which you missed because you overslept. Then your professor wouldn’t allow you to come into class late, citing his stupid syllabus with his classroom rules. The only saving grace for that fiasco was that your friend texted you her notes after class. When you went to the commons to get a coffee before your next class, you promptly spilled all over your textbook and when you checked the clock it was only ten-thirty.
You could afford to blow off your classes for the rest of the day, so you did. It was just easier to let yourself go home and catch up on sleep than it was to force yourself through those courses. You couldn’t afford to blow off work tonight though. Tonight though, you were going to be catching up on all your missing assignments from the classes you skipped. You invited the stress but you knew that in the end, it was most likely for the better. You got to the diner before your shift started, settling in one of the corner booths with a chocolate milkshake and your laptop. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Stephanie hovering.
“You good, Steph?” Stephanie made a noise and you furrowed your brows as she stumbled with her words.
“I mean-- Like, no-- I just-- Why are you doing school work in my booths?” You sighed heavily and she began apologizing. “You totally don’t have to tell me, really it’s none of my business anyway.”
“Steph, you’re fine. I just had a really bad day today, so I skipped my classes to catch up on sleep so I’m doing my missed work.” Stephanie nodded at you, placing her hand on her stomach.
“Okay, good. Just checkin’, ya know? Cause ya never know what somebody’s doin’.” She started walking off but stopped suddenly. “You’re doing okay, right Y/N?” You smiled at her mother level instincts.
“Yeah, I’m okay Steph, I swear. Just a little stressed lately with everything going on.” You turned your attention back to your laptop. You were supposed to be writing an essay over the importance of political correctness in the media, but instead your blinking cursor was mocking you. It was about an hour and a half later when you had to start your shift, begrudgingly putting your laptop in your bag. You definitely didn’t get as much done as you wanted, but you did get almost half of your essay done, so that’s nice. What isn’t nice is that you’re actually working with Joanie tonight.
She may as well have not been there. For four hours, Joanie stood at the countertop, flirting with some greasy sleazebag. You huffed every time you went into the kitchen to get food for your tables. It had gotten dark long ago, but the diner hadn’t gotten any slower since around seven. You didn’t care though because you were making incredible money today. People were feeling really generous for some reason, not that you were going to argue with it. Joanie, of course, was still working the countertop of disgusting men. You had to give it to her, she was fucking persistent, but she was also so unhelpful.
You were currently serving a table of high school it kids, which was just so fun for you. This is where your night started to go to shit. First off, they all ordered plates of fries, which is just, okay, whatever. Then they complained about everything. ‘Your ketchup tastes funky,’ or ‘my fries aren’t crispy enough.’ Or it was something like, ‘are you sure you gave me two melted ice cubes and not three because it takes like you gave me three.’ And you were able to handle all those issues for them, remaining civil and pleasant.
You could feel that something was going to go wrong, you were just waiting for it, and this was it. They ate their whole meal and you had just dropped off their check, walking away from the table when you heard three finger snaps directed towards you. Your jaw clenched, you were usually really really fucking good at holding your tongue, but not at this point in time. You could feel your stress level start to rise along with your anger.
“Is there something else that I can get ya?” Your accent was getting thicker the angrier you became. The brunette teen on the end of the booth glared at you, holding her cup.
“Yeah, I didn’t order a lemon in my water.” You felt your brows raise, okay maybe this wasn’t going to be the disaster you thought it was going to be. “And now my experience here has been ruined.” The brunette stood beside you, dumping the glass of water down the front of your uniform. Your jaw dropped as she shook the glass to get all the water out. “That’s for being a shitty waitress.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, forcing past you. “Let’s go guys. I’m not even willing to pay because of how horrible this was.” And then they fucking left. You gulped down tears of frustration because now you had to pay their fucking tab. Your uniform was soaking wet and the whole restaurant was waiting for your reaction.
Taking deep breaths, you made your way to the back office and to your locker. You twisted the dial lock, opening the door with a loud squeak. Pulling on a spare pair of blue jeans and an extra work shirt, you walked back on to the floor. The whole floor was still silent, anticipating your response.
“Aren’t you people supposed to be eating right now?” You walked back to the kitchen, grabbing the mop and starting to clean up the mess. You finished bussing the table, running the dishes through the washer to catch up. Out of nowhere, Joanie corners you in the dishwashing area.
“Hey, so I know that was, like, super embarrassing for you, but I’ve got to go, so I’m gonna need you to cover the rest of my shift.” She bit her lip when you didn’t reply. “Yeah, Joe out there at the bar top is taking me out, if you catch my drift.” You could hear the wink in her nasally voice.
“Unless he’s a hitman and that’s the definition of the phrase you’re using, then I don’t care.” Joanie scoffed at your retort.
“I can stay for like ten more minutes and then I’m leaving, so you’re gonna have to stay.” You rolled your eyes at her, not stopping your dishwashing. She walked away and you finally had a few moments of peace, so you dropped your head to your chest, exhaling sharp breaths leaving because you wouldn’t let yourself cry over something stupid.
When you walked back on to the floor, there was hardly anyone there, which you were thankful for. Stephanie had gone home earlier, leaving just you, Joanie and George in the restaurant. Seeing as how dead the building was at the moment, you decided to pull your laptop out again to finish your essay. You sat in the booth you did earlier, leaning your back against the wall, legs stretched out in the seat. You were putting the finishing touches on your essay when the screech of the front door hinges alerted you to a new customer. “I’ll be right with ya!” You placed your laptop on the table, not looking up to see who walked in, expecting it to be a customer this late.
“Oh, hi. I’m Joanie, come have a seat at the bar and I’ll getcha order, sweetcheeks.” You heard Joanie’s obnoxious voice croak to the newcomer.
“Uh, no thank you.” You heard Bastian’s voice respond to Joanie. “I’m actually going to sit over here with Y/N.” His finger pointed in your direction, his body following soon after.
“Ew, why? The goods are over here, sweetheart!” You had to hold back a laugh at Bastian’s wide eyes. He made his way to you faster, settling into the booth quietly.
“Joanie?” He asked expectantly, to which you nodded with a smug smile. You asked if he wanted a glass of water from behind your laptop screen. You got up after he nodded grabbing two ice cups and a pitcher. Joanie leaned over the counter to talk to you.
“Hey, Y/N/N. Who’s the hunk at table twenty one?” You groaned at her question.
“First off, Joanie. I’m Y/N to you and weren’t you supposed to leave five minutes ago?” You snipped at her. Joanie’s face was one of annoyance.
“I just wanted to fucking know. It’s not like he’s going to be interested in you.” You rolled your eyes at her response, walking back to Bastian in the booth.
“Just go home Joanie, neither one of us wants to deal with your shit. Also, I’m pretty sure that Joe wants to take you out.” The woman glared at your back as you sat down. She quickly picked up her purse and stormed out the front door. “Sorry about her.” Bastian shook his head.
“No, you’re good it’s not your fault.” He gestured to your laptop that you began typing furiously on. “What are you working on?”
“A discussion posting for one of my classes.” Bastian’s eyebrows raised, waiting for you to elaborate. “It’s about what movie we would show to the class for female empowerment. I picked Miss Congeniality, such a fucking good one.” Bastian laughed, filling his cup with water. You paused for a second, looking up from your computer screen. You looked at him for a long while, tilting your head at him. “How was your day, Bastian?” You asked while closing your laptop screen.
“It was good, I actually slept really well last night, so I was actually rested when I went to the gym. Then I ate pasta.” Bastian had a wide smile on his face as you laughed at his recollection of his day.
“Well, are ya hungry now? I can get ya something from the kitchen. We don’t close for another hour or so.” You pushed your laptop into your bag, standing from the sticky seat. “I’m getting my second milkshake of the day because I want one.” Sebastian stood and followed you to the bar top, watching patiently as you took out the ingredients.
“You know, I’ll have a milkshake with you.”
“What kind?” You turned to face him, leaning your weight on the counter, “And just so you know, I’m going to judge you based on your milkshake flavoring.” Bastian tilted his head forward, whispering his request.
“Do you have peanut butter and chocolate?” Your brows raised, a loud ‘hmm’ escaping while you turned to get out the rest of the items.
“We do. I figured you were gonna be like, ‘can I get a vanilla, please?’” He made a face at you as he pushed off the counter, doing a spin on the chair.
“Nah. I’m not a fan of vanilla in any capacity.” A shiver went down your spine at his rasp. Is he referring to what you think he’s referring to? “So, I’ve got a question for you.” You looked at him expectantly. “What’s up with your accent? You keep dropping it and picking it back up.”
“Do you always ask people about their accents the second day of speaking to them?” You pressed the button on the blender, not giving him time to answer. The blender stopped for a second and you asked, “You got a thing against accents?” With a wink, you started the blender again.
“Not at all, I actually spent a long time trying to drop my own accent, so I know it can be difficult. Normally, I wouldn’t mention it, but I’m curious about you, so I did.”
“What accent?”
“What do you mean, ‘what accent?’”
“For you, what accent? I haven’t heard you speaking with an accent.”
“Oh well, thanks. I’ve worked very hard for that. Now what about yours?”
“Customer service.” You stuck a straw in each milkshake, sliding his over the counter, which he caught with a raised brow. “It’s just my customer service voice. I am from deep down south Texas, but I don’t really have that accent unless I’m speaking to customers.” His brows furrowed.
“Then why don’t you have it with me? I’m a customer.”
“You’re not a customer, Bastian.”
“I wanna be a customer, Y/N.”
“You’re not a customer.” He released a loud groan which you laughed at as you made your way back to the booth. You stretched your legs to rest on the other seat underneath the table. “I thought we were friends, Bastian.” He glared at you playfully as he wrapped his lips around his milkshake straw. You rolled your lips inwards. “Hey, Bastian?”
“Hm?” He asked while happily drinking the final gulps of his milkshake.
“Did your milkshake bring all the boys to your yard?” He dropped his head backwards to rest on the booth back.
“Oh my god, Y/N.”
“What? That was funny!” You both burst into a fit of laughter. Sebastian glanced down at his watch, showing you the time. “Oh, yay. Closing time.” You stood from the table, bringing your empty cup with you, holding your hand out for Sebastian’s too. “It shouldn’t take me too long to close up, if ya wanna hang out in here.” He smiled wide, nodding his agreement. When you walked to the back, you saw that George had already done more than half of the cleaning.
“Oh my god, George! You didn’t have to do that, I would’ve helped.” George straightened from his position over the grill.
“Yeah, I know, but you were having a good time with what’s-his-face and I know you’ve had a rough day, so I figured I’d do more than enough for you to leave early.”
“Leave early? George, I’m not going until you do, so let’s get this done.” The corner of your mouth twitched up as you walked to wash yours and Sebastian’s glasses. “And his name is Sebastian, just FYI.” It took you and George about twenty minutes to finish up the cleaning. It would’ve been shorter if Bastian didn’t tease you on the way you swept the floor.
“Hey, so I don’t know what your plans are for tomorrow night, but if you aren’t busy you could come over to mine for a Miss Congeniality marathon.” You suggested as Bastian walked you to the bus stop, despite his protests. He looked over at you with a smug smile.
“Are you askin’ me out, right now?” You stumbled over your words at his question,
“Psh, I mean, like, no? But, hypothetically if I was, like, I dunno, what would you say?” He hummed a laugh at you.
“I would say yes, but only if we watch both of them.” He leaned over to you, “And if we had loads of jars of peanut butter that I can dip chocolate bars into.”
“I think you have a slight obsession and a deal, Bastian.” You stopped walking, digging in your bag for your phone. “Here, put your number in and I’ll text you the information.” After getting your phone back from Bastian, you opened a new text under his number. His phone dinged a second later, “Just checking to make sure you weren’t giving me a fake number.” You winked at him as you left. “I’ll text ya, Bastian!”
You did end up texting Sebastian. Two days later. Not that Sebatian was worried that you wouldn’t text him, you seemed like a woman of your word. He was reading over an audition script that his manager had sent him when you texted. His phone buzzed against his countertop, prying his attention away from the highlighted sections.
you busy later tonight?
The question was simple in theory. He wasn’t, not that he knew of anyway. Apparently, he took too long with his reply because his phone buzzed again.
it’s y/n, btw.
He laughed at that before typing his response.
I figured it was you, Y/N, also, I don’t think I’m busy later tonight.
Want to cash in on that Miss Congeniality movie marathon?
Sebastian nodded to himself, proud of his callback of your previous conversation.
haha, if you want to we can. i’ve got a shift at the diner later tonight though
He made a face at his phone, readying himself to salvage the situation.
i was just wondering if you’d come keep me company at the diner tonight?
A large smile spread over his lips.
Yeah, definitely. When does your shift start?
it starts at five pm, but it usually slows around eleven if you want to come then?
otherwise, i’d have to wait on you like a real waitress and i doubt you’d like that ;)
I mean, I don’t know, maybe I want the special customer service Y/N
Only if the accent is included in the customer service package though ;)
accent def included for my fav bastian <3
Sebastian’s eyes widened. A heart? What’s a heart mean? Oh what the hell ever, it doesn’t matter. A pretty girl that he is genuinely interested in has invited him to come hang out with her. Granted, she’s supposed to be working, but those are minor details.
I’ll be there around eleven tonight, then.
He thought a second before biting his bottom lip and adding.
I’m excited to see you :)
God, he hopes you don’t take that as him being a creep, perv man.
i am too, bastian. i’ll see you tonight. i’ll be the one in the comfortable shoes ;)
Time couldn’t have passed any slower for you. Tonight was a typical shift for you, so all your regulars were tipping you well. Joanie, on the other hand, was also working tonight. She was training a new girl. A horrifically bad idea in your own professional opinion. However, you weren’t the boss, Stephanie was and to Stephanie, Joanie was an angel who could do no wrong. You don’t know what the fuck Joanie did to get on Steph’s good side, but there she was. Joanie was with the newbie behind the counter, “teaching” her the ins and outs. You could just faintly hear what Joanie was telling the new girl, whose name you think was Amber?
“Okay, so this is where we keep the tea pitchers and coffee pots. If they’re empty, just tell Y/N and she’ll refill them for you.” Joanie chewed her bubble gum obnoxiously. You rolled your eyes, walking away from their conversation. You’re going to have to retrain her anyway, so why not just ignore them for the time being?
“We don’t refill them ourselves?” Amber seemed to have good intentions when she asked. Joanie made a face at her, shaking her head quickly.
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” She leaned closer to Amber to whisper in her ear, “Y/N gets so pissed off if I try to do anything but take care of my tables around here.” Amber’s eyes widened, throwing a glance in your direction. You were holding a tray full of dirty plates from all your regular’s tables, on your way to the back. You threw your head back in frustration before tossing a glare at the two women behind the counter.
“Are y’all going to just stand there and gossip, or are you going to help me bus these tables? We have people waiting at the fucking door and you’re just standing there.” You’ll admit it, that was harsh. Not uncalled for, just harsh.
“See?” Joanie scoffed, popping her gum again. “Total tyrannical bitch.” She rolled her eyes before looking around the diner. Joanie placed her hand around Amber’s upper arm. “Come on, I’ll show you how to greet the people at the door and sit them.” You glanced at your watch, reading the time to be 11:15, Bastian should be here soon. You were unloading the dishes and stopping to get a drink when you heard his voice following Joanie’s.
“Hey there, hot stuff.” Joanie’s gum popped again. How unprofessional can you get? Chewing gum as a fucking server? How this woman hadn’t been fired yet was beyond you. You had your back turned to them, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. “How many’ll it be tonight?” Joanie slipped a slight southern drawl into her voice, mimicking your own. Bastian cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Uh, just one.” You turned around, pulling the cup to your lips, watching Bastian’s frame over the rim. You watched as his eyes darted away from Joanie quickly as she leant down, showing off her breasts to him. “Are there any seats open in Y/N’s section?” Amber scoffed quietly, rolling her eyes. She took the menu from Joanie’s hands when she saw that Bastian wasn’t giving her any attention.
“Actually, there isn't, sir. I’m so sorry about that. I do have some seats open in my own section at the bartop if you’d be okay with that.” Bastian bit his bottom lip, coughing lightly.
“Um, yeah I guess so.” Amber led him to the bartop, pushing past your body at the coffee maker. She was talking to Joanie on her way over.
“This guy is so fucking hot. Does he come in here often?” You decided to keep your mouth shut, waiting to hear what Joanie replied with.
“He came in this one time, late at night. I was just leaving so I wasn’t able to serve him, but I think he’s gay, so probably not worth the effort.” Joanie had taken up a defensive stance with Amber. Apparently, Amber was encroaching on what Joanie thought was her territory and you were reveling in it.
“Whatever, he’s so not gay. He’s too fucking hot the be gay. I’m going to go for it.” Amber raised a brow at a stunned Joanie. Amber pulled out a pad from her apron, clicking her pen before starting towards Bastian.
“Well, you’re still going to need my help because you’re a newbie.” Joanie sassed at Amber.
“Nah, I’m okay. I think he’ll find it cute if I do it myself. Ya know, first real customer bit?” Amber walked away confidently, leaning down in front of an oblivious Sebastian. She put a pad on the counter, leaning to write, displaying her chest to Sebastian. You could hear her conversation with him.
“Hi, sir.” She was attempting to be seductive? “I’m Amber and I’ll be your servant today.” She brought her hand up to her mouth, “Oops,” her eyes widening, “I’m sorry, I usually use that in a different context.” Your jaw dropped, a cackle working its way out of your mouth. Sebastian looked horrified at her insinuation, his face entirely too pale. “I’ll be your waitress tonight. What can I get you to drink, sir?” Sebastian kept his replies to the woman short. Amber walked away confidently, adding a sway in her hips as she left, attempting to draw Bastian’s attention to her ass.
Amber was next to you as she was making Bastian’s drink. Your phone buzzed in your apron, a text from Sebastian came in.
You laughed to yourself, bringing your hand up to your mouth to muffle the escaped giggles. A noise of disdain left the body next to you.
“What the hell are you laughing about?” You glared at the woman. “It’s not like you’re interesting or anything.” The front door squeaked loudly before you could form a retort. “Oh look, a new customer just for you.” She danced her fingers in front of your face. “Run along.” You shot a look at her retreating figure before taking care of the people at the front door. You sat them down, bringing them their drink order soon after.
As you were heading back to the kitchen, you looked over at Amber and Sebastian. You popped the bones in your neck, making a decision. You walked over to the pair, placing a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder as you sat in the seat next to him.
“Oh my god, Bastian! Why didn’t you text me that you were here?” You leaned in for a hug, whispering in his ear. “Just go along with this and you’ll get a free meal.” You pulled back, still holding his shoulders with a smile on your face. “Why aren’t ya sittin’ in my section?” Sebastian leaned back, holding a hand out to Amber.
“She said you were full, so she sat me here.” You turned to Amber, brows raised waiting for an explanation.
“Did she? Well, I guess I can just serve you here then. You already decide what ya want tonight?” You pulled out your own pad, ready for his order when two fingers began snapping in your face.
“Excuse me? Hello? This is my customer.” You glared at her, eyes flicking back and forth across her face. You cleared your throat, sticking your hand out for her to shake.
“Hi. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Y/N.” You waited for her to shake your hand, but she just stared at it in disgust. You retracted it, placing it at the base of Bastian’s neck, playing with the hair there. “This is my boyfriend, Sebastian.” Amber’s eyes widened at your statement, her jaw dropping slowly.
“That’s impossible.” She groaned when neither of you denied it. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. He’s in my section now, so he’s my customer.” You narrowed your eyes at her while she tilted her head in defiance. You looked around for Stepahnie, calling her over to the group.
“Hey, Steph. I’m really not feeling up to being able to stay for the rest of my shift. You know how I’ve got all those tests tomorrow. Do you think that I can clock out early to study at home?” Was this morally the right thing to do? Eh, you don’t care. Amber’s annoying, so why the fuck not?
“Of course, honey. Good luck on your tests tomorrow.” Amber made a noise at Steph’s decision.
“You know she’s not going to study right? She’s probably going to suck his dick in the alley behind the diner!” It took every shred of will you had left to not slam her fucking head into the counter.
“Amber!” Stephanie raised her hand, pointing to the back of the diner. “My office. Now! You too, Joanie!” Stephanie placed a hand on your shoulder, an apologetic smile on her face before she followed a huffy Amber and Joanie.
“That solved that problem!” You laughed as you walked beside Sebastian. Your laughter was music to his ears, it brought a wide smile to his face that just wouldn’t go away. “Well, I’m free for the night, for real now.” You stopped walking, looking upwards at Sebastian. “Do ya wanna come over to mine for a movie night? I’ve got peanut butter!” You bribed him, which really was unnecessary, he wanted to hang out with you however you would let him.
You both had decided that ordering pizza was the best option because you were both feeling a bit peckish. It was now a bottle of beer each and a whole pizza later, the pair of you were on your couch in your apartment watching the first Transformers. Sebastian had stuck to his side of the couch as well as he could. He was a large man, but he wanted nothing more than to respect your own personal space. You took it upon yourself to break him of this. You laid your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his right. You glanced up at him from his shoulder.
“Is this okay with you?” He wanted to speak, but he was too enraptured by your beauty, so he settled for a nod. “Good because you’re really comfy.” You snuggled into his side, making his heart beat faster. He desperately hoped you couldn’t hear it.
“This is probably the best out of all the Transformers.” Sebastian said in an effort to draw your attention away from his ever increasing heart rate. Your head lifted from his shoulder, making him internally frown.
“Mm, I think I like the second one more.” You put your head back on his shoulder. “Really, I just like John Turturro in it. His character makes me laugh.” You let out a small giggle accompanied by a hiccup. Your phone began buzzing on the coffee table and you held your arm out, making grabby hands towards the device. Sebastian laughed at your action, leaning forward to grab it for you. Joanie’s name lit up the screen, you groaned while denying the call, tossing your phone back on the table.
“Want to watch Mamma Mia?” Sebastian smiled.
“Only if you’ll sing all the songs with me.” You laughed as you switched the shows on your TV. You shifted your body upwards, waiting for Sebastian to stretch out so you could lay down. You had already hit play when you head rested on his lap. The opening titles of the movie began and you both started singing with the song. The show continued on and you began commenting on everything in it, making Sebastian’s stomach hurt with laughter. You grew quiet as Sebastian was laughing, watching him from your spot on his lap.
“What? Something on my face?” You leaned up, shifting into a sitting position facing him, still not saying a word. “Y/N?” Sebastian watched as your hands came up to his face, tracing his features.
“You’d make a good Sky.” Your fingers continued to trail along his cheekbones lightly. Sebastian’s eyes slipped closed as he enjoyed the moment of peace with you. His revere was broken by a gentle pressure against his lips. His eyes snapped open to see your face closer than before, your hands dropped to your own lap. “Oh my god, I’m so--”
Sebastian cut you off, pulling your face to his in a searing kiss. He backed away slightly, allowing his thumb to run over your bottom lip and chin. A silent agreement was made between the two of you in that split second. Giving Sebastian the permission he needed to bring his hand returned to the side of your neck, drawing you back into him.
His tongue was the first thing your lips felt. Tracing the inside of your top lip, before entering your mouth completely fighting for dominance. His hands left your face, traveling down your torso, pulling your midsection against his. Neither of you broke the kiss when he pushed against your ribcage, nudging you back against the couch cushions. Sebastian slotted himself in between your legs, bringing his left hand to the outside of your thigh. His lips left yours and descended on your neck, forcing your head upwards in bliss.
“Not here.” You moaned out, hands gripping the top of his curls. A powerful kiss was exchanged between the two of you before you spoke again. “Follow me.” Your eyes flicked over his face. You got up quickly, shedding layers of clothing on the way to your bedroom. You could hear Bastian doing the same behind you, causing you to giggle a little. Your laughter was cut off quickly as Sebastain heard, catching up to you quickly. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up as he walked. You were both down to just your jeans as your back hit the mattress.
Sebastian planted little kisses on your shoulders as his hands went to your jeans button. He looked up at you for a go-ahead before continuing. Not half a second after a yes slipped past your lips were your pants on your body. A groan of appreciation left Sebastian’s mouth, the action leaving a shockwave of vibrations that shot through your body. He left you for only a second to discard his own pair of pants, before settling on top of your body. Sebastian placed his hand on your waist, nodding his head upwards.
“Scoot up, Y/N.” His voice was rough but it was velvet to your ears. His hand never left your waist while you moved. Sebastian leaned down to kiss your collarbones. “Before we do this, Y/N. I need to know that you want this.” You were rendered almost speechless by his actions and Sebastian picked up on it. He brought his left hand to your face, brushing a stray hair out of your eyes. “Use your words.”
Your heart definitely just fell out through your vagina, what the fuck. You leaned out from underneath him, reaching your hand into your bedside drawer, pulling out a foil packet. “Yes, Bastian. I want this.” He smiled, kissing your neck again. “Now are you going to fuck me? Or am I going to have to do it myself?” You could feel a rumble leave Sebastian’s lips on the column of your neck. The skin there was slightly wet from his constant attention, not that you minded, of course. Sebastian continued on his downward path, both of his hands on your stomach, holding you in place. He inhaled your scent as he went down, licking his lips in anticipation. He kissed the front of your underwear before hooking his fingers into the waistband and tugging the fabric off your body.
“Oh, Y/N.” He groaned as he dove. in. tongue. first. Your head reared back in euphoria as he latched his lips onto your clit. A sigh of content left his lips, vibrations attacking your nerve endings. “Where have you been all my life, baby?”
Sebastian backed away slightly, bringing his arms underneath your upper thighs. He hiked your legs over his shoulders, bringing his face further into your pussy. If Sebastian had to describe what heaven was like, it was this. Your legs tightened around his head as he flicked his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Sebastian’s left hand came up to your mouth. He watched as you wrapped your lips around the digit, swirling your tongue around it, his eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. Sebastian pulled his finger out of your mouth soon after, bringing the now wet digit to your entrance. He watched your reaction as he traced your clit, then as he sunk his finger into you. No, that’s what heaven is. That reaction on your face, the dropped jaw, the squinched eyes, staggered breathing, that’s heaven. He’s sure of it.
He retracted his finger before pushing it back in, a squelching sound emitting from your labia. It’s only now that Sebastain realizes just how tight you actually are. He wonders for a brief second if he’s going to fit. He continues this motion for a few more pumps, slowly opening you up for him.
“You think you can handle another one, darling?” Sebastian’s voice was scratchy, waiting for an answer before he went any further. You let out a moan of assent, causing Sebastian to laugh lightly. “What did we talk about, Y/N?” His voice dropped an octave. “Use. Your. Words.” He punctuated each word with a thrust of his finger.
“Yes! Oh god, yes, I can. Please.” Sebastian pulled his finger back, lining up another.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He watched as his digits disappeared into your awaiting hole. A loud moan left your lips again, your hand coming down to Sebastian’s hair. Sebastian never stopped pumping, even when your hips began lifting off the bed. He began hooking his fingers against the walls of your vagina. His own hips began grinding against the bed as he watched you climb.
“You gonna cum for me, Y/N?” You nodded quickly. “Come on, sweetheart. Words, Y/N.” His actions sped up, and he watched as you struggled to form words.
“Yes, Sebastian. Can I cum, please?” Both of your hands went to his hair as he began sucking on your clit. Your grip on Sebastian’s hair was almost painful, but he basked in it. Your hips started lifting off the bed, but Sebastian was having no part of that. He used his right hand to hold you against the mattress as he ate you out like a man starved. There was only a brief second that his mouth left you.
“Cum for me, Y/N.” Your body responded to his words immediately. Legs shaking on his shoulders, eyes rolling in the back of your head, all because of the man between your thighs. Sebastian wondered when the last time was that you had been treated, but he didn’t care. He knew you shouldn’t either, Sebastian would take care of you for as long as you’d let him.
His fingers never stopped their movement, making you reach a second climax during the waves of the first. You eventually began to push against his head, needing a breather. Sebastian climbed up your body, leaving kisses, covering you in your own essence. He settled with his arms on either side of your head, a proud smile gracing his features.
“That was fucking hot.” He leaned down, sloppily kissing your lips. “You got one more in there for me, darlin’?” Sebastian watched as you captured your bottom lip in between your teeth, flashing pearly whites at him. You held the foil packet in your hand, eyes flicking to his still clothed center. You opened the package as Sebastian unveiled his own. He saw your eyes enlarge and nostrils flare for a second before returning to normal. He leaned down, kissing your forehead. “It’ll fit, sweetheart.” He winked at you as he sat back, holding his hand out for the condom.
You angled forward, stretching the latex material over his stiff member. A shudder ran down Sebastian’s spine at the feel of your hands on him. Before you could lay back down, Sebastian caught you by the back of the neck. He pulled you into an intense smooch, continuing this as he laid you down. Your legs fell open and he situated himself between them. Sebastian ran his hand up the outside of your thigh, curving it around his hip. His eyes flicked to yours, waiting for your approval.
“Fuck me, Sebastian.” You groaned out, tossing your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. He sighed into the exchange, grabbing a hold of his dick, positioning it at your entrance. The kiss broke as you both looked down to watch as the head of his cock disappeared into you. A warm feeling radiated from your chest as you took in Sebastian’s blissed out face.
“Oh god, ești atât de strâns.” Sebastian didn’t move for a few minutes, letting you adjust to the size. One of your hands left the nape of his neck to grip his bicep.
“Two things.” You were slightly breathless which made Sebastian’s chest swell with pride. “One, what language was that?” Sebastian smiled at your question, happy to talk about it. You held a finger up before he could speak. “I can tell you’re about to give me some long winded answer, so why don’t we save it for when you aren’t inside of me? And two, will you please move?” Your sentence was cut off by a moan leaving your lips. Sebastian angled his hips forward, pressing more of him into your body.
“You’re doing so good, lubita.” Sebastian’s eyes cast downward, watching as he slipped the rest of him inside of you. You both felt him bottom out, sighs of pleasure leaving both of you. Sebastian pulled back, leaving just his tip in before dropping his weight onto you, sinking in fully.
“Oh! Bastian, faster please?” Sebastian decided to make you suffer, apparently. He denied your request and ignored your pleading whines. He hooked your other leg over his waist, continuing his hard and slow pace. You were able to wrap your leg around his, flipping his body underneath yours, his cock never leaving you. Sebastian looked up to with wide eyes, taking in your form on top of him.
“My turn.” You spread your knees, bouncing on his thick thighs. You leaned back, placing your hands on his calves to steady yourself. Sebastian took advantage of this position, your exposed clit just begging for his attention.
“Feel good pe penisul meu?” Sebastian’s hands hadn’t left your waist until now. His palms left a hot trail up to your breasts. He tilted upwards, gripping them in his hands. “Atât de frumos.” He latched his mouth onto your left breast, tongue swirling your nipple. His right hand drifted to your neglected clit, rubbing it with quick circles. Sebastian managed to catch onto your rhythm and began thrusting upwards in time. You let out a loud groan the first time he did, almost losing your balance.
“You close, darling, huh?” Sebastian brought his right thumb to your mouth as you nodded and sucked. “Baby,” Sebastain drug the vowels out in a patronizing tone. “What did we say?” He hit into you harder when you didn’t answer, not accepting your beautiful little sounds.
Sebastian quickly flipped the script again, tossing you on your back onto the bed. His cock left you only briefly. He was soon lined up and sinking in again in no time flat. You threw your head back at the feeling, a loud moan leaving your mouth.
“Close! I’m clo--” Your words got cut off by Sebastian’s thrusting. He leaned forward, whispering in your ear as he spoke.
“Asta e iubito. I’m right behind you.” He exhaled harshly, “Fata buna. Let go, Y/N.” You felt it come up from your toes and the tips of your fingers. Your mouth dropped open as Sebastian brought you to the edge and threw you overboard. Tears began to form at the corner of your eyes as he continued thrusting.
“Sebastian!” A scream left your lips, shocking Sebastian into silencing you with his hand over your mouth. His body grew rigid, eyes rolling in the back of his head. He breathed heavily, gasps of ecstasy slipping in and out. You both stayed still as you caught up with your beating hearts. Sebastian figured you’d eventually want him to get off of you, so he pushed himself away. He discarded the condom in your bathroom trash, bringing a damp towel to clean you up with. You were still laying on the bed, immobile. Sebastian began to worry.
“Y/N? You okay, baby?” Your head lolled to face him, a blissed out expression riddling your features. A small ‘mhm’ sounded from your lips as Sebastian spread your legs again. “Words, darling.” Sebastian berated playfully. You went to push away his hands from your center until he explained what he was doing. “Shh, it’s okay, dragӑ. I’m just cleaning you up, I promise.” He tossed the towel into your bathroom, before crawling in next to you. You shifted to your side to face him fully.
“What language was that?” Sebastian smiled at your quiet voice.
“That would be Romanian, sweetheart.” A small yawn left your lips, causing more tears to gather at your waterline. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now though, let’s get some sleep.”
“You’re hot.” You booped Sebastian’s nose before dropping your head onto the pillow, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin. Sebastian laid there admiring your relaxed face, his eyes memorizing every detail. “I can feel you staring at me. I thought we both decided to go to sleep.” You opened one eye to stare at the man lying next to you. Sebastian smiled softly, curling his arm around your bare waist to pull your body to his.
“That we did, dragӑ.” He kissed your forehead before closing his eyes.
“Goodnight, Bastian.” You pressed a soft peck to his jawline, snuggling into his body heat. Sebastian didn’t respond because he had already drifted off into his first night of unbothered sleep in weeks.
458 notes · View notes
cinnaminsvga · a year ago
body of mine | Seokjin (M)
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→ summary: It’s the night before Seokjin’s birthday and you, his ever-reliable witch slash roommate, have accidentally forgotten to get him a gift. Good thing you know magic then, right? Ten wishes shouldn’t be too hard to handle…
{or alternatively: learning the importance of living a marie kondo lifestyle, but in hindsight}
→ genre: shifter!au, magic!au, humor/crack, smut → warnings: jin is your magical hamster familiar, jin is chaotic (ofc), magical mischief that only zee could come up with, aphrodisiac sex, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), slightly rough sex, dom!jin if you squint, hair pulling, jin doesn’t wrap up his peepee (pls practice safe sex u guys), dirty talk, breeding kink?? → words: 16.9K → a/n: IDK WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE ORIGINAL POST BUT HERE IT IS!! IM SO SORRY BUT HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY @jincherie​ PLEASE IM GOING TO CRY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS (pls send me your thots i suffered greatly for this fic i’m actually dying appa yip yip)
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Whoever told you that keeping a hamster as a familiar was a good idea must have been an idiot.
It’s you – you are the idiot. Every one of your friends had warned you about the little vermin. They had begged you to kick him out the moment you found him taking a hamster-sized dump on your prized foxgloves.
You’d been in the middle of pruning the yallows in your garden when you heard a tiny squeak! to your right. When you pushed the foliage away, you saw a small hamster, cheeks puffed up with its little fists clenched by its sides, as pellet after pellet of tiny shits were pushed out of its tiny ass and onto your plants.
You brought him into your home, already making up your mind that you’d keep him as a pet. You have been feeling a bit lonely these days; surely, a tiny little hamster won’t be too much of a problem to take care of, right? You’re so excited that you even invite your friends over to behold your newfound darling.
“I’m going to kill that tiny bastard,” Yoongi hissed the moment he made eye contact with the hamster, his pupils dilating and fluffy cat ears tensing, ready to attack. You could see his claws begin to extend, so you made sure to place your new friend out of his reach. Lucky for you, Yoongi had the arm span of a toddler.
“Oh, c’mon! He’s so fucking cute though,” you cooed, tickling the hamster’s belly. It squeaked happily, nudging your finger to scratch the underside of its ears. Yoongi hissed at it from behind Namjoon’s back, his fingernails digging painfully into the gentle giant’s shoulders. The bespectacled witch didn’t even seem to bat an eye.
“Y/N, I’m all for keeping magical pets and whatnot, but I have to agree with Yoongi… That hamster has too much bastardous energy,” Namjoon said, wincing when the hamster begins munching on the sleeves of your cloak in earnest. You continued to squeal in delight, positively endeared by the cute little ball of fur in your palms.
Due to your magical abilities, you had sensed that this little hamster had magic in his veins and you guessed that he must have either been a shifter or an intellectually augmented animal. You guessed that he’s the former, much like how Yoongi is a cat shifter as well. Ever since Namjoon had befriended Yoongi and the two became partners, you admit that you’ve always been a little jealous of their natural camaraderie. You had long since yearned for someone who could assist you in your magical apothecary, but more importantly, someone you could share your time with.
You were optimistic; perhaps when the little hamster learned to shift into its human form, then you could truly begin your journey towards friendship. You’re sure that the man behind the hamster must be just as cute and lovely.
Speaking of learning to shift—
“What? You mean me?” Yoongi asked, craning his head over Namjoon’s shoulder, his curiosity getting the better of him but still remaining a safe distance away from you and the hamster. “What about learning to shift?”
“Did you just learn one day? I want to get Mr. Hamster over here to turn into a human so I can speak to him,” you explained, but the cat shifter narrows his eyes distrustfully.
“I don’t want that vermin to gain the ability to speak. I can just tell no one is going to enjoy what he has to say,” he sniffed. He growled lowly, the sound so deep and feral that you are momentarily disarmed by his hostility. Namjoon had to rub the back of his ears for a second, forcing Yoongi to calm down until his growl softened into a purr.
“Well, Yoongi can’t control his shifting abilities quite yet. I have to… forcibly change him, if you will,” Namjoon explained, watching Yoongi with loving eyes as he gently nuzzled his head into the witch’s hand. He beckoned you closer and you took a tentative step forward, keeping the hamster behind your back just to be safe. “Watch,” he said simply, as his hand trails lower and lower until it reached the back of Yoongi’s neck and he–
Poof! Namjoon simply tickled the back of Yoongi’s neck and a puff of purple smoke revealed a munchkin cat in its wake. His soft gray and white fur bristled in surprise, his teeth bared at Namjoon as he meowed in contempt. Namjoon ignored all of this, gently picking up the tiny cat and cradling him in his arms like a baby. Immediately, the shifter relaxed, eyes closing contentedly as he burrowed deeper into Namjoon’s chest.
“Woah,” you said, for lack of better words. You shook your head, gazing at the two in wonder. “I didn’t know Yoongi has a fucking eject button.”
“Yep. I sure hope you don’t abuse this knowledge, by the way,” Namjoon warned, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes told you that he probably wouldn’t mind if you did. Knowing you, there was no question that you’d take any and every opportunity to annoy the cat shifter. “If this hamster is the same, then surely it has a similar tick. Since it’s small too, I’m sure it’ll be easy to find its spot.”
“Speaking of,” you piped up, staring curiously at him. “How… did you find out where Yoongi’s spot was? Didn’t you meet him as a human?”
Namjoon shrugged, but there’s a soft pink tint coloring the tops of his ears. “Umm… Coincidence?”
You squinted at him. “Sure,” you agreed, not wanting to know why he seemed so embarrassed. You turned back to the furry matter at hand, lips pursing as you gazed upon the hamster. Surely, there should be an easy way to figure this out…
You began to roll the small hamster in your hand like a pancake, twisting and pulling the lil guy until it started squeaking in protest. You made sure not to handle it too roughly, so you were a bit surprised at how dramatically the hamster was screaming. “Just another moment, baby…” you murmured. At the sound of the pet name, the hamster paused in its squirming, staring wide-eyed at you with its tiny mouth ridiculously agape. You arched a brow, amused at the aghast expression on its face.
“Well, that settles it. You’re definitely human, by the looks of it,” you commented, poking it lightly on the nose. The hamster scrunched up its face just as a soft pink smoke started to envelop its tiny body. You coughed harshly, your sinuses tickled by the strong scent of caramel and mint. “W-well, I think I found its spot,” you pointed out helplessly, eyes watering as you tried to keep them open.
The hamster’s body was growing ridiculously hot, forcing you to drop it on your kitchen counter. You hissed, sucking on your burned appendages as you wait for the smoke to subside. Beside you, Namjoon had Yoongi held tightly in his arms, his back turned away to keep the smoke away from their faces. “Y/N, get some clothes quickly. He’s going to be cold when he finishes transforming,” was all he said, his free hand covering his nose. “This is probably going to be its first shift in a while!”
You’re still completely flabbergasted, frozen in place. “What?” you replied dumbly, standing stock still as you waited for the smoke to dissipate. As more and more of it cleared, you noticed two pairs of long legs where there originally had been none. You waved your hand a bit, fanning the remaining fumes away from your nose, allowing you to gaze upon a very naked and very tall man sitting primly on your kitchen counter.
You and the man stared each other down, neither of you blinking nor backing down. After a few moments, the man smiled brightly at you, his cheeks bunching up much like how he did in his hamster form. “Hello, human,” he greeted, extending a hand towards you. You took it dazedly, still staring wide-eyed at him. “My name is Seokjin. I suppose this means I’m going to be your familiar from now on.”
Your gaze traveled downwards, your hands still clasped together with his. “You’re naked,” you said plainly.
He followed your gaze. “I suppose I am,” he mused, shrugging his shoulders. He was incredibly wide; it almost made no sense that he was a hamster just a few seconds ago. What did he do, bench press sunflower seeds all day? “I am also incredibly beautiful, but we can continue stating the obvious another day.” He released your hands, clasping them together with a beatific smile. “C’mon, human! Bring me your finest garments because my handsomely sculpted testicles are starting to shrivel up from the cold.”
Behind you, you could hear Yoongi hissing loudly in response.
And from that day forward, your adventures of living with the biggest nuisance in the world had begun.
x x x x x
[December 3, 11:39 PM]
Okay, maybe calling him a nuisance is a bit too mean… He’s not that bad. Although, you are sure that Seokjin would have gladly nipped you in the tit if he ever found out you thought so lowly of him. Which you don’t.
Except when he’s being annoying, which is all the time. For example:
“Stop fucking biting, you little furball,” you grouse, flicking the hamster in the stomach. He gasps in response, or at least, you assume he had gasped since hamsters don’t exactly have the same vocal cords that humans do. What you do know, however, is that Seokjin seems particularly adamant to be irritating tonight, despite your numerous threats to snip his tiny hamster balls should he continue to pester you.
Unfortunately, none of your usual intimidation tactics work, thus prompting you to grab the small rodent and squeeze him like a squeaky toy. (And what do you know—he even squeaks like one too!)
“Will you stop bothering me? You know I’m busy.” You squint angrily at him, scowling when Seokjin looks back at you with faux innocence. This lil bitch wouldn’t know innocence if it shoved a finger up his ass! “You’ve been more annoying than usual. You even tried parkouring over my herb bottles even though I’ve told you numerous times that’s off limits!”
You feel only slightly bad for scolding him; after all, you are in the midst of preparing a particularly difficult potion for one of your clients tomorrow. Seokjin knows this, and you even specifically told him not to bother you until you finished for the night. While he often did like to interrupt your work for “life or death situations” such as “cuddling” or “spoon-feeding him some pudding,” he usually leaves you alone to do your work when you’re faced with tougher jobs. Today doesn’t seem to be the case as he nibbles ferociously on your sleeves, desperate for you to listen to whatever nonsense he wants to convey.
Rolling your eyes (albeit you admit you do it out of fondness), you gently take the little hamster into your hands, placing him on your kitchen floor. You make sure the stove for your potion making is turned off before you turn back to him, honking his button nose and waiting for him to shift completely.
Since it’s no longer his first time shifting, it only takes Seokjin a few seconds to transform into his human self, his large frame quickly taking up most of the space of your cramped kitchenette. He accidentally bumps his head into one of your hanging potted plants, causing him to yelp in surprise rather than actual pain. He glares pointedly at your orchids before switching that ire onto you, his normally saccharine brown eyes filled with thinly veiled contempt.
“Took you long enough,” he sniffs, poking you not-too gently in the cheek. He folds his arms, appearing to you like a child throwing a tantrum. “Well?”
You raise a brow, covertly turning on your stove once more to resume your potion-making. “Well what?” you say, stirring your small cauldron from the corner of your eye. Seokjin halts your movements instantly, pulling your arm away and half-dragging you towards your living room.
“H-hey! That potion is really sensitive, so let me go—”
“It’s almost midnight,” is all he says before dumping you unceremoniously on your old sunken couch. You grunt from the impact, but he doesn’t apologize for his gruffness (as he never has). You peer up at him, scowling slightly at his unexpectedly cryptic remark.
“And so? This potion is due for pick-up in two days and I’ll need to steep it for another 24 hours before I can even think to package it–”
Instead of replying, Seokjin takes his phone out of his pocket and thrusts the screen towards you. You look at it in confusion, confronted with the sight of his lock screen without any explanation. “It’s… 11:43?”
He rolls his eyes, though you notice a slight hint of disappointment clouding his expression. “And what about the date?” he pushes, lips pursed thinly into a line.
He’s trying to get you to understand without saying it outright – a habit of his that he’s acquired ever since he started hanging out more with Yoongi. Though the two are hardly considered friends, even Seokjin has to admit that being near the cat has caused him to pick up a thing or two, with his tsundere tendencies being one of the first.
You, on the other hand, are forced to play along with his antics. You know that it is December 3. As you try to rack your head for anything you might have missed, you’re pretty sure you’ve accomplished all your chores for today, save for the current potion brewing for the customer coming in two days. You think back on your day, listing off all the things you had done.
You had met up with Namjoon to pick up more herbs from his shop, you delivered more mana potions to the local apothecary, you passed by the street market to buy more sunflower seeds for Seokjin… What on earth could you be forgetting?
“I sincerely hope you’re joking, you know.” Seokjin interrupts your train of thought, breaking you from your trance. When you look back at him, you find that his annoyance has cleared. Hurt replaces his expression, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he waits for you to realize.
When it appears that you won’t be noticing anytime soon, he heaves a heavy sigh, eyes closing in defeat. His voice cracks when he says, “Fine. It’s fine. Whatever. I’ll just… Go to my room. Don’t worry about breakfast tomorrow because I’m gonna sleep in.” And with that, he swivels away from you, shoulders hunched forward as he quietly makes his way to his quarters.
Left shocked and even more puzzled, your gaze is stuck where he had just been moments ago, anxiety and guilt rising in your chest as you try harder to remember what it is that caused Seokjin to shut you out like that. In your seven months of living together, not once has he ever looked so dejected, as the handsome shifter often liked to push your buttons and tease you whenever you mess up. This is clearly not like the other times, so whatever you forgot must pertain to Seokjin himself.
“Am I missing something? Did I forget to season his dinner again?” Although it is entirely too plausible that you did, you highly doubt Seokjin would be that upset at having a bland meal. So what else could it…?
Just as you’re about to give up and beg Seokjin to tell you what you had forgotten, your phone beeps, a new text from Namjoon arriving just in time. You flick it on, your brain taking a moment to fully grasp the words you were trying to read.
from: joonieboobie to: y/n
hey y/n! are you gonna spend the entire day with seokjin tomorrow? yoongi and i figured that you’d do something special for him on his bday, so tell seokjin that we’ll treat him to a birthday dinner the next day instead. don’t have too much fun, okay? use protection LMAO
You gasp suddenly, hand flying to your mouth as horror washes over you. Did Namjoon just say… bday?! Now that he mentions it, you realize that today is December 3rd, which means…
“Tomorrow is December 4th,” you whisper to yourself. You jump out of the couch, scrambling towards your kitchen at a wicked pace. Sweat begins to form at the back of your neck as you run over to your wall calendar, where lo and behold, tomorrow’s date is circled in blood-red ink. Circled by you, even. Holy shit holy shit holy shit–
No wonder Seokjin was so hurt. You’re a terrible, foul, no-good witch! The absolute worst person in the world! How on earth could you forget your own familiar’s birthday?
“Jesus fuck, I’m screwed,” you groan, slumping over your kitchen counter in defeat. You don’t even care that your potion has long since boiled over—not when you’ve already made a bigger mistake just now. God, you’re such a clumsy bitch; what’s the point of being a potion maker who helps cure other people’s maladies if you can’t even fix your shortcomings?
“I can fix this. I can fix this. I can—” You chant this multiple times to yourself as you rush to your nearby bookshelf, pulling out every book you own to find a last-minute gift idea. Surely, there’s something in these books that can help you make it up to Seokjin, right? You’ve made almost every potion there is under the sun, surely there is something you can brew that can bring back the smile on your lovably goofy familiar?
You’ll pour over all of these books if you have to. Despite your forgetfulness, your love for your familiar rings true; you would do anything for him, whatever he might ask.
A thought passes through your mind, but you shut it down for now. A last resort, you think grimly to yourself. You have a few hours left before he wakes up, after all. You’ll find something, you’re sure.
x x x x x
[December 4, 9:14 AM]
It turns out you do not find anything, after all. A halo of books surrounds you on your living room floor, your worn fingers littered with papercuts and ink stains after spending the whole night looking for a suitable gift for Seokjin. Everything just seems too regular to be a gift, though you suppose you’re only picky because you know that Seokjin is pickier. He’d whine for days if you gave him just any gift, and nothing grinds your gears more than having a sulking hamster eating the plants in your garden.
“Grandeur,” you can imagine him saying, nose upturned in that snooty way of his. “I require the most exquisite of presents. I, after all, am above peasantry. I cannot even stand the taste of wooden chopsticks upon my silver tongue.”
Frankly, you have no idea how he’d gotten to become such a prick so haughty, given that you know that he used to live on the streets before he had met you. Regardless, you’ve always been the type of person to be a little too forgiving, so your patience for his irritating unorthodox personality is stronger than most.
Although it might not be immediately apparent to most observers, the two of you make for a perfect pair. You are the calm to his storm, the logic to his insanity, the yin to his dumbass yang. While it’s easy to say that you hold the short end of the stick when it comes to living with Seokjin, he also grounds you and keeps you from pushing yourself too hard. There have been many long nights in the past when you would be too absorbed in your work, not even remembering to eat or drink for days. All it takes is a soft poke or nibble from Seokjin to jolt you back to your senses as he reminds you time and time again that your life matters not only to you, but him as well.
He’s your familiar. Your sweet, foolish, annoying, narcissistic familiar. It really might have been fate for you to have met all those months ago in your garden, though you’d never tell him that. He’d be much too smug about it if you did, as he never did shy away from proclaiming that he was your knight in shining armor or something.
Which is all the more reason that you fear for your life now that you’ve run out of options for his birthday present. He’d never let you hear the end of it, and you can only imagine how a vengeful and spiteful Seokjin might be compared to his normal self.
You sigh dejectedly, closing your last book and shoving it across your living room floor. “This is my fault for forgetting,” you say, rubbing your temples with a grimace. Of all the times your forgetfulness could fail you, you certainly would have hoped that this would not be one of the times when it did. You must remember to ask Namjoon to restock the ingredients needed to make more head clarity potions, though you suppose you might end up forgetting to do that as well.
Every potion in your arsenal of knowledge just wouldn’t work out for Seokjin, or at least you think so. The potions are either too useless or too useful, with the latter being a bigger problem. As much as you like to tease Seokjin for his hamster-sized brain, he did have his cunning moments. You dread to wonder what type of mischief he might come up with should you give him, say, a 24-hour luck potion.
“Though I suppose he wouldn’t be able to take over the world in 24 hours… Could he?” Even as you say it, you know in your heart of hearts that he absolutely can and will. Fucking bastard that he is.
With no other options viable to you, you did have one last trick up your sleeve. You might even say this option is worse than a 24-hour luck potion, though you will be making sure that he has adult supervision while he, erm, utilizes this gift of yours. This last-minute gift idea of yours is famous amongst your circle of friends, mostly because you do have a penchant for forgetting numerous birthdays and anniversaries in the past.
You’re usually quick to resort to this last-minute gift whenever you forget someone’s birthday, as you trust that your friends would never misuse your kindness in any way. But like most things, Seokjin is a different case entirely. As you have mentioned before, Seokjin… has ways of getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Added with the fact that you were unquestionably whipped for his hamster ass, he most often can get you to do things that aren’t what most would consider being “morally sound.” You may love him, but you certainly don’t trust him.
Long story short, you are slightly terrified of giving him ten wishes for his birthday. Ten wishes that will allow him to ask you to do anything for him, as long as they’re within your abilities of course. If anyone were to find out that you were even considering offering wishes to Seokjin, much less ten wishes, you are sure that they would throttle you for the premeditated mass destruction of the human population.
Which is why you’re going to have to make some rules for the little rodent, and hope to all the deities up above that he doesn’t find a loophole of sorts. Hopefully.
It’s nearing 9:30 AM when you manage to muster up enough courage to tiptoe noiselessly into his room, not bothering to knock as you know that he will most likely ignore you. Your heart pangs when you see him curled up into a ball in his bed, still in his human form as you had not been able to transform him back into a hamster before he had stormed off the night before. He has his back turned away from the door, but you know he’s awake when you hear his muffled sniffles. Your previous trepidation is replaced with guilt immediately, causing you to lower your head in shame.
“Seokjin? Sweetie?” You say his name hesitantly, unsurprised when the shifter refuses to look at you. You pad softly towards his bed, your knee digging into the soft mattress but not daring to come closer. You want desperately to cuddle with him in bed, always having appreciated his higher body temperature, especially during the colder months.
“I’m so sorry for forgetting your birthday, Seokjinnie. I know I’m a big fool for forgetting such an important day, but I really hope you can forgive me,” your voice grows softer the more you speak, dropping to a whisper by the end of your sentence. The room is silent, save for the sound of Seokjin’s breathing and your rapidly beating heart. Your mouth feels like sandpaper when you continue, “I know this might not make it up to you entirely, but I do have a gift that I want to share with you.”
At the mention of the word “gift,” you can see the way the small hamster ears perched on his head start to twitch. You smile secretively to yourself, knowing that you finally got his attention. “Come on, sweetie. Don’t you want to know what your present is?”
With a loud sigh, Seokjin rolls over to face you, his cheeks blotchy with tear stains and dried snot. You nearly cry out at the sight, but you keep your guilt to yourself, now more eager than ever to right your wrongs. You hate seeing him cry, most especially when it is you who had made him shed those tears.
“You got me a gift?” His voice is hoarse, but his curiosity is plain as day.
You nod happily, clapping your hands with excitement. “Yup! I know this will be the first time Seokjinnie is celebrating his birthday with me, so I thought long and hard about this—” a complete lie, but he doesn’t have to know that, “—and I thought it would be great if I gave you ten wishes for your birthday!”
There is a pause. In lieu of a response, Seokjin just sits up in bed, pushing off his blankets and blinking rapidly at you in disbelief. He rubs his eyes once, twice, but it still seems like he can’t believe what he’s seeing (and hearing). His mouth opens and closes, before finally saying, “Excuse me?”
You arch a brow, slightly confused as to why Seokjin seemed so astonished. “What? Do you not want ten wishes for your birthday?”
Seokjin shakes his head, looking like a possessed bobblehead with how quickly he moves. “No, of course I do! I just… You trust me enough to make ten wishes? Me?”
You cringe. “Well, trust is a strong word…”
“I knew it!” Seokjin scoffs, pointing at you accusingly. He flops back onto the bed, a deep pout on his face. “My ten wishes are probably gonna be stuff like ‘No cooking duties for a month!’ or something equally as lame.”
You roll your eyes. “Well, yes that could be one of your wishes if you so desired. But no, you can ask for fun stuff too.”
Seokjin raises a finger. “Oh really? Then how about—”
“No wishes that will allow you to attain world domination,” you interrupt, watching amusedly when he immediately deflates.
“Aww,” Seokjin mutters, dropping his finger. A second later, he raises the same finger again. “Then—”
“And no bodily augmentations as well,” you add.
Seokjin looks down at his crotch dejectedly. “Aww!” Seokjin repeats. ”Then what else am I supposed to ask for?!”
You shrug, tapping your chin. “Well, is there anything else in that empty skull of yours that you might want? There should be something you want that you can’t have.”
For a moment, Seokjin’s expression turns cloudy, like he usually does when he’s thinking deeply about something. It might have been the trick of the morning light, but you swear he gives you a quick once over, tongue poking out to wet his chapped lips. “I have an idea,” he says, voice low.
You feel your palms begin to sweat, unused to the dark look on Seokjin’s face. Anticipation fills you as you both stare at each other, neither willing to back down. “Y-yes?” you say, suddenly nervous to hear his response.
He smirks, tilting his head with contemplation. “I want…”
What? What do you want? You squeeze your fists unknowingly, forcibly keeping yourself from squeezing other parts of your body. Could it be..? No…
“I want to beat Jeon Jungkook in a spicy noodle challenge. Just once in my fucking life!” Seokjin hollers, punching his pillow in the midst of his unexpected fury. His eyes are blazing, cheeks puffed up due to his unbridled hamster-y rage. “That little bunny bitch! Thinks he’s hot shit just because he can eat two more cups of spicy ramen more than me? Well, I want him to finally get a taste of his own medicine!”
You feel your shoulders sag in relief, wondering where on earth your brain had been going just a moment ago. “You… You want to get a spice resistance potion? Yeah, I can do that for you. Give me a second,” you say, dashing out of his room like your ass is on fire, afraid that he might notice the blush dusting the tops of your ears. You mentally slap yourself, biting the insides of your cheeks to keep from strangling yourself. Keep it together, Y/N. Remember how much of an idiot he is and you’ll be fine… Just don’t think too hard about it.
Lucky for Seokjin, spice resistance potions are quick enough to make and it only takes you 10 minutes to cork the finished concoction for him. You scurry back to his bedroom, about to hand the small vial over to him when the words get caught in your throat. You’re momentarily paralyzed by the sight of his naked back, his ocean-wide broad shoulders on full display for your wandering eyes to feast on. Naked Seokjin isn’t even a rare occurrence in your household, but it doesn’t get easier to witness even as the days go by. In fact, you guess it only gets harder for you, pun intended.
Thankfully (or unthankfully), Seokjin slips on a clean shirt before turning to you, his expression lighting up when he sees you (with your mouth still fully agape) with the potion in hand. “Nice one, Y/N!” He takes the vial from you, peering at the minty green color with glee. “Oh damn, when I see that little shithead, he’s not gonna know what hit him!”
“Are you gonna go challenge him today?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I’d rather spend my birthday doing other things. Plus, I already have better ideas for the remaining nine wishes I have left.”
“Such as?”
He pats your head a little condescendingly, a devious smirk playing on his lips. “No need to worry your little head, Y/N. You don’t even need to work for four wishes, because I know for a fact that you have these potions in your stock,” he says, laughing maniacally as he scampers off to your basement storage.
“Seokjin!” You call out to him, wondering not for the first time how he always manages to outrun you despite doing nothing all day except eat sunflower seeds and play videogames all day. Though you assume it might have to do with his rodent DNA, as the little shit always did manage to slip from your fingers when you’re strangling holding him in his tiny furry form.
When you get to your cellar, you find him rummaging through your stores and softly humming a tune as he takes his time sorting through your potions. You try to peek over his shoulders to see what he’s doing, but it’s a lost cause as his entire frame somehow manages to block your entire view. Fuck him and his doorframe shoulders.
“Hey, I heard that!” Seokjin says, making you realize belatedly that you did say it out loud—not that you particularly cared if he heard. You’ve thought and said worse, plus he knows it. He thrives on being an asshole.
“Can you at least tell me what you want? I can find them for you too, as long as they aren’t… too dangerous,” you say the last part skeptically, not knowing what is categorized as “dangerous” when it comes to him. For all you know, he could somehow find a way to kill a man with a healing potion.
“No, no. I got it. Here,” he hands you a medium-sized vial filled with a colorless liquid. When you turn the bottle over, you see that you labeled it as one of your hair color changing mood potions, a popular novelty potion that you sold to kids at the market sometimes.
“Why on earth would you want this?” You snort. “Let me guess… You want to feed this to Yoongi so that you can anticipate whenever he’s about to scratch your eyeballs?”
“Close, but not quite! I want you to drink it,” Seokjin says, poking his head out of the cupboard to give you a quick smile. He winks at you, which you do not return. “Come on then. Drink up!”
You squint at him incredulously. When he doesn’t seem to be joking, you exclaim, “Hold on. Why on earth do you want me to drink this?”
But Seokjin has already shoved his head back into the cupboard, the sound of bottles clinking together nearly drowning out his voice as he struggles to find the other potions he’s looking for. “No particular reason! I just never see you with crazy hair colors and I always wondered how you’d look like in pink. I think it’d suit you.”
You flush darkly in response, stammering loudly at his brazenness. “But pink is the color for…” You trail off, embarrassment short-circuiting your brain. No way he could mean… that, could he?!
“Pink is for happiness, right?” Seokjin says after a moment, not noticing your awkward demeanor as he finally exits the cupboard, three other bottles cradled carefully in his arms. He closes the wooden door with his foot, walking out of the cellar with his prizes and not bothering to check if your dumbfounded self is following suit.
It takes a second for you to snap out of your stupor, yelping when he nearly slams the basement door on your face. “No, you idiot! Yellow is for happiness! Oh Merlin, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” you curse, treading closely on his heels.
Seokjin looks at you with confusion, but he thankfully doesn’t ask what specific mood the color pink represents. “Well, I guess you’re gonna have to live with yellow hair all day.”
“And why is that?” you say lamely.
“Because I’ll get to see how happy you are to be with me! After all, I am so incredibly handsome,” Seokjin laughs haughtily. He waits for you to open the door back to the house, his resounding laughter sounding even louder when you both enter, given the acoustics of your home.
“Then I guess my hair will be blue all day instead,” you scoff, pinching him lightly in the side.
“Oh? Because you’re sad that you can’t be as pretty as me? Understandable,” he nods sagely. “Or perhaps you’ll turn green with envy because you can’t be as pretty as me? Or even orange with fear, because you can’t be as pretty as—”
After living with him for so long, you’ve long since developed the ability to mute him out without needing to plug your ears with anything. It’s a necessary skill that you pride yourself in having, as it allows you to live in peace with the insufferable twat. You pity anyone who has ever had to live with him for an extended period of time; dear Merlin, you hope to meet his mother someday, as she must have been incredibly powerful to birth such a beast into existence and raise him willingly, too.
“Hey, are you listening to me? Are you muting me again? ON MY BIRTHDAY? Stop that!” Seokjin whines, poking you in the cheek. You startle slightly, pointing him with an annoyed look.
“Sorry, your highness. Does that count as one of your wishes? Because I honestly don’t think I can handle listening to you ALL DAY. I may be a talented witch, but even I don’t think that’s within my capabilities.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “Whatever. Just drink the potion already, will you? Or would you rather I ask for a mind-reading potion instead?”
That shut you up quickly. You shudder at the thought of Seokjin with any sort of telepathic powers. You don’t consider yourself a saint, but you feel as though it’s your duty to keep him away from any sort of power. The world should thank you for your service, honestly.
Without further ado, you pop the cork off the bottle, downing the plasticky tasting potion in one big gulp. “Ugh. I don’t know why kids love this stuff. Tastes like shit.” You grimace, rushing to your kitchen to grab a glass of water.
On your way there, you notice your hair color begins to change from the mirror you keep above the kitchen sink. Your roots are starting to gain a light brown color, the default shade of the potion, but the color quickly drains out as you take your first sip of water. By the time the terrible taste is out of your tongue, your hair has turned completely gray. You finger your tresses, staring at its unnatural steeliness. “Well, at least we know it works. Gray means neutral if I remember correctly.”
“Damn, so this is how you’d look when you turn 50. Would still bang, not gonna lie,” Seokjin whistles, narrowly missing a jab to the stomach from you.
“No one asked for your opinion,” you retort hotly, hoping to the heavens that your hair isn’t changing color again.
Judging from Seokjin’s smirk, your prayers are useless. He cards a hand through your hair, admiring its new color. “Oh, interesting! Purple is for embarrassment, right? Wow, this is gonna be much more fun than I would have imagined!”
“A-anyway,” you slap his hand away, taking a step away from him to keep him from seeing your burning face (though it’s not like you hadn’t already been exposed anyway. Stupid magic potion.) You point to the three remaining bottles he had stolen from your basement, eager to divert the conversation away from the topic of your vulnerable emotions. “What about these? What on earth would you need—” You turn one of the bottles upside down, reading the label. “An illusion potion? Oh Seokjin, I don’t know about this one…”
Seokjin groans. “Oh, come on! The only rules you had were no world domination and no body augmentation, but you never said anything about fake body augmentation!”
“Trust you to find a loophole in any given circumstance,” you sigh, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to stall the incoming migraine (too late for that, given that the personified version of a headache happens to live with you.) “Okay, fine. Tell me what you’re gonna use it for and then I’ll decide.”
“Simple,” Seokjin snaps his fingers. He trails his hands to his ass, squeezing the globes of fat with a sad sigh. “I want people to think I have an ass thicker than Park Jimin’s.”
For some indiscernible, unconnected reason, you feel as though one of the blood vessels in your brain just popped. In any case, having a stroke might be a better fate than continuing to live in the same universe as the withered toenail in front of you. “I beg you to repeat that sentence. Think about your words first, really grasp their true meaning. Try to remember what it’s like to have functioning brain cells. Then try to repeat your words with a straight face.”
“I. Want. People. To. Think. I. Have. An. Ass. Thicker. Than. Park. Jimin’s.” Seokjin repeats, his expression as flat as his ass. “Are you happy now? Will you grant my wish, please? You said no bodily augmentations, so having the illusion that I have thick ass should be perfectly acceptable, is it not?”
“I rue the day you learned to speak the human language.” You sigh irritably, pocketing the offending potion. When Seokjin begins to protest, you silence him with a quick glare. “Don’t worry, you fucking moron. I’m only allowing you to use this potion with my supervision and I simply don’t have the time to watch you bump bubble butts with the local village thot right now,” you explain.
Seokjin nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Indeed… I will need your assistance when I walk into town once everyone sees me with my ass shots and tiddies done. The people will simply devour me in an instant.”
“Are you aware that every moment you breathe, you are poisoning the air with your toxic presence?” you say with a deadpan stare. Ignoring his indignant squawks, you take a look at the two remaining bottles. “Alright. Please fucking tell me these are at least slightly sensible choices…”
“If there’s anything I know after living with you, it’s that our definitions of ‘sensible’ vary greatly between us,” Seokjin says, and for once you couldn’t agree more. He takes the last two bottles, turning them over to show you the labels underneath. “They’re luck and truth potions, each with a dose worth one hour. And before you say anything,” Seokjin beats you to the punch, holding a finger up when it looks like you’re about to protest, “These aren’t for me.”
You scrunch your brow in confusion, not quite following his logic. “What? Then what’s the point?”
Seokjin’s grin is mischievous, the twinkle in his eye sending a shiver down your spine. You’re familiar with that look, as it’s the same kind of expression he has whenever he plans to do something incredibly stupid, like eating uncooked noodles before pouring boiling water down his throat in order to eat instant ramen faster. You’ve been at the victim of too many of his ridiculous schemes to not know that whatever he is planning can’t be innocent.
“It’s simple, my dear Y/N. This is all part of my ingenious master plan that I thought of ten minutes ago,” Seokjin explains, tittering haughtily like some poorly designed video game villain. “Hold the applause, because my plan is going to rock your socks off.”
“I’m not even wearing any socks.”
“Then my plan will put socks on you, my dear. That’s how incredible it is,” Seokjin says, undeterred. “So basically, we’re finally going to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck.”
Seokjin pauses for dramatic effect, waving his hands around like a magician would, except the only magical act he’s ever performed was to be born as the first-ever living creature without a functioning brain. “Well?” he prompts, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you not going to ask me how I’m going to do it?”
Your expression morphs from confusion, to incredulity, to frustration, to acceptance all in five seconds flat. You’ve long since realized that it’s easier not to ask too many questions for the sake of your mental health, though you suppose it might be important to ask a few questions, mostly for the sake of your friends’ safety. You’ve lost enough acquaintances as it is, all because your familiar with rocks for brains wouldn’t know decency if you shoved it up his ass. 
(PS: No, they aren’t dead, but they’ve told you that Seokjin makes them feel like death anyway. That’s just the sort of effect he has on people.)
“Fine, I’ll bite. What’s your ingenious plan to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck entail?” you ask, gritting your teeth in preparation to withstand the pure, unadulterated strength of his dumbassery.
“Well firstly, I need the luck potion to win rock, paper, scissors against Yoongi,” Seokjin starts, smirking at the thought. “It’s been my dream to beat him at the game, as the score right now between the two of us is 349 to null in his favor—”
“That’s just because you always play paper. Consistently. You never use scissors or rock,” you deadpan.
Seokjin gasps, holding a finger up to your lips to silence you. “I am above using rocks! I am no barbarian! And do you think I’d ever use scissors? That is just one step away from me throwing up a peace sign like some sort of weeb!” Seokjin retorts, nose upturned in the air. You struggle to keep your fists by your sides, the itch to punch him in his perfectly sculpted nose growing by the second.
“Regardless, I intend to win this time,” Seokjin continues. “And I will make him take the truth potion as my prize for winning so that he may finally confess his feelings for Namjoon and end their five-year-long mutual suffering.”
“Don’t you mean mutual pining?” 
“Same thing,” Seokjin shrugs. “You and I both know that those two idiots will continue to skirt around each other like teenagers who only just realized that their penises can be used in different ways other than for pissing. They’ve been in love with each other for far too long and I intend to be the cupid that brings those two together.”
“Why must you phrase things like that,” you sigh, not really asking with the intent of hearing an answer. You’ve been asking him the same question for months now, and have yet to receive an answer that isn’t “because I can!”
“So does that mean you’ll let me use the luck and truth potions?” Seokjin asks, his lip jutted out in what he probably presumes is a cute manner, but all it does is make him look like his bottom lip got stung by a hornet. (Still kinda cute though, you think to yourself.)
After taking another five seconds to deeply access the state of your life, you sigh tiredly, feeling weary beyond your years. Figures that he would notice the attraction between your two best friends, but still remains oblivious to your own feelings. 
“Fine,” you acquiesce, crossing your arms in an attempt to look annoyed. You aren’t doing a very good job, however, as you try not to smile at Seokjin’s unabashed excitement. Fuck him for being so adorable when he’s happy. Why couldn’t he be excited over more normal things, like R-18 video games or hentai?
You clear your throat, stopping his celebration. “Do you really want to spend your birthday getting Namjoon and Yoongi to get together though? Pardon me for saying this, but I seriously didn’t think you’d want to help them.”
“Why not?”
“You always seemed a little too enthusiastic whenever the two of them were being...” you pause, stuck on the word you want to use.
“Super stupidly horny for each other? Yeah, I admit that I do enjoy watching Namjoon getting a boner whenever Yoongi does that weird cat thing,” he says, shrugging.
“Weird cat thing? You mean when he stretches and his entire torso grows twice as long?”
“Precisely!” Seokjin claps his hands, grinning ear to ear. “It’s super gross and weirdly cute! I don’t know how Namjoon finds that even remotely horny-inducing. Must be a cat person thing.”
You shake your head, unwilling to think deeper about the psychological mechanisms of your friends. “Besides the point. Do you want to head over to Namjoon’s place now? They invited us for dinner tomorrow to celebrate your birthday anyway, so we can always do this next time, or…”
“Hell no,” Seokjin is quick to interject, knowing that you're just trying to weasel your way out of being an accomplice in his ill-planned hijinks. Your shoulders slump in defeat. "You are not getting out of this. We are doing this today before either of us forget! C'mon, it won't take that long."
"That's what I was afraid you'd say," you grumble. "But fine. Just gimme a sec to get ready," you point at Seokjin's ahegao printed pajamas with disgust, "—and you should probably change out your clothes too."
Seokjin looks down at his clothes with a confused expression. "What's wrong with my PJs?"
"I think the more important question is what's wrong with you," you reply, stalking off to your bedroom. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear his squawks of offense.
As you hadn't gotten sleep the night before, you only just notice that you're still wearing yesterday's clothes on your back, the sweat after hours of worrying about what to get Seokjin making your shirt stick grossly to your armpits. You strip off quickly, doing your best to freshen up and look semi-decent (though there isn't much of a need; you've been friends with Namjoon long enough that he's seen you at your worst.)
You pass by your dresser, seeing your reflection in the mirror. Your hair color is shifting from yellow to brown at a rapid pace, making it appear as though you'd been the victim of a terrible dye job.
"I'm a victim, for sure..." you mutter to yourself, fingering your multi-colored locks. The brown color is for annoyance, which shouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone, but the yellow? Happiness isn’t exactly the word you’d describe your emotions right now. And also, do your eyes deceive you? Is there a patch of pink appearing just at the crown of your head?
“No, no… This is no good at all.” You force yourself to think of sad thoughts, trying desperately for the colors to change—but to no avail. Luckily, that hamster bastard doesn't remember what pink means, or else you'd definitely be screwed, and maybe not even in the good way.
You sigh tiredly, slumping over onto your bed when the fatigue from the day finally hits you. “It’s only morning, and I already want to die. Must be a record,” you snort in exasperation, watching as the tips of your hair turn black in response. “Wow, thanks magic. No one would have guessed I was tired unless you said so,” you mutter sarcastically. 
You never thought that you were much of a tsundere, but you're starting to understand the appeal. People knowing your emotions so easily is disconcerting, to say the least. You'd rather die than let Seokjin know that his stupid little antics actually do make you happy, since spending time with him doing pretty much anything is always a good time. It's just... someone has to hold the brain cell in the relationship, and you never would have expected that you'd be the wielder majority of the time.
When you step out back into the living room feeling more refreshed, Seokjin is ready to go. Which is to say, he hasn't moved a single inch from where he was standing just ten minutes ago.
"You bitch! I told you to get dressed," you snap. You pull him by the ear, making the 179 cm adult man whine like a little baby. "Take your clothes off!"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he wheezes, still grimacing from the throbbing pain from where you had tugged his lobe. He tries to wink at you but fails tremendously. He looks like he’s having a funky lil seizure instead. "Just transform me into my animal form and let me ride in your pocket. It's too cold out to walk! You know how sensitive my nipples are! They turn into ping pong balls when it's winter."
"I don't care. Please stop using me as your personal taxi service; you've shat in the pockets of two of my coats already," you grumble, but your pleas remain unheard. He pouts, and your feeble willpower disintegrates immediately at the sight. You sigh, "But since it's your birthday, I won't complain about it this time."
"You literally just complained though?"
You ignore him. You outstretch your finger, ready to boop. "Alright, gimme your nose, wench."
Instead of coming closer as you expected, Seokjin just gives you a contemplative look. Never a good sign. "Actually, that gives me an idea..."
"Oh, dear Merlin. Not another one of those. Please spare me," you groan.
"This one is easy though!" Seokjin tuts, bonking you on the head. You hear something click in the back of your skull, but now is not the time to ponder about such trivialities. He continues, "Instead of my nose being my transformation point... Do you think you could—"
"I am not making your penis your transformation point," you interrupt.
"—make my butt my transformation point? Wait, hold on, nevermind. I think I like your idea better," Seokjin jumps in excitement, but his mirth dies when he sees your unimpressed stare. "Okay, fine. No penis touching. But butts! You touch my butt all the time anyway! It shouldn't be that different."
"Yeah, but I only touch your ass so often because you beg me to punch and massage it in hopes of it becoming bigger. Which, by the way, isn't a real thing. You should do squats instead or something."
Seokjin gasps, scandalized. "Me? Working out? Please, that's as improbable as Yoongi turning into a regular-sized person!"
"I'm telling Yoongi you said that," you roll your eyes. "And to answer your question, no I won't switch your transformation point to your—" Wait, hold the phone. That gives you an idea. A glorious plan, something that might finally teach him a lesson.
No way in hell he would fall for that, though, you think idly to yourself. You’d be too obvious! Unless..?
"What is it?" Seokjin asks, confused when you suddenly stop speaking. He gazes curiously at the way your eyes are glazed over, concerned when he sees the way the corners of your lips twitch slightly. "What's up with you?"
You snap out of your reverie, your mischievous thought quickly cementing itself in your mind. Seokjin may be a chaotic shithead, but so are you. No one can endure living with Kim Seokjin for long without gaining a few shithead genes in the process, and you're no exception. This will teach him to be a little more conscientious, you hope. It's a pipedream, but as they say... Reach for the moon, and if you miss, then at least you'll get swallowed up by a black hole and turn into spaghetti.
"Nothing. Just had a thought, thot." You whistle innocently, barely holding down your grin when Seokjin stares at you suspiciously. Fortunately, your hair color hasn't given you away. To be fair, you didn't know light blue was the color for being a jackass either; you learn something new every day. "Nevermind that. I changed my mind. I'll grant your wish. After all, it is your birthday."
"That's right!" Seokjin exclaims, but there's a note of uncertainty and nervousness in his tone. He squints at you, pursing his lips. "Aha... Of course, it's only right that you give me what I want. It's what you promised, after all."
"Yes, yes... What Seokjin wants, Seokjin gets..." You trail off, your mind preoccupied as you hurriedly go over to your kitchen cupboard. You aren't sure if you kept them or not, so it takes you a few moments of sifting through all the bottles of herbs before you find it in the back, where it has gained a thin layer of dust all over it. You wipe it off, humming in victory when you see that it's exactly what you need.
You take a quick look at the bottom of the bottle, pleased to see that Namjoon had forgotten to label it, like always. But you remember what it is, even though you've never really quite needed to use this particular herb. He had given it to you as a strange novelty item a long time ago: it was an ingredient for obscure potions that were never really ordered at regular magical apothecaries, which is why it had remained untouched in your cupboard until today.
By itself, it has strong magical properties too, or rather... You suppose it would be more accurate to call them side effects. It has an incredibly confounding side effect that some might consider dangerous, which is why it's important to handle this herb with the proper protective equipment. Not that Seokjin would know that, of course.
"Here," you say, handing over the innocuous-looking bottle to Seokjin. He peers at it, turning it over to look for the nonexistent label.
"What is this? Weed?" he murmurs, popping the lid open and taking a tentative sniff. "Doesn't smell like it," he says, raising a brow in confusion. You let out a small giggle, but thankfully, he doesn't notice your slip up.
"Nah, it's called the Baliktad herb. I remember that Namjoon had given it to me ages ago, and it's coincidentally something you can use to... transfer magic from one body part to another." You choose your words carefully, though it's not like you're lying, anyway. Vagueness is the first step in deceit, after all.
"Really? How does it work?" 
"Simple! All you have to do is grind some of the herbs into a powder, mix it with some water to form a paste, then rub it on your nose and your butt. Wait a few seconds and poof!"
Seokjin nods, intrigued. "Wow, I've never heard of this thing before. Are there other uses for this? Say, what if I rubbed some of it on my dick instead—"
"Oh shut the fuck up and give me that," you grab the bottle back, glaring at his impish face. "You know what? I can't trust you to administer it on yourself. Lemme make the paste and I'll rub it on you."
"That sounds hot," Seokjin winks, barely dodging your kick to his nuts. "Hey, hey! Feet off the prize, darling! My balls are where the ladies get their babies."
To stop yourself from screaming, you keep your mouth shut this once. Besides, you're too excited for what you're about to do to him, so keeping silent is a small price to pay. All of it will be worth when you finally give him a taste of his own medicine. Or rather, a smell of his own medicine.
When you finish grinding the herb into a paste, you clear your throat, gesturing for Seokjin to sit on the couch. "Alright, let me put some on your honker first before I get to your ass. And no, you better not make some 'ass is grass' joke."
Seokjin visibly deflates. "Hey, what the fuck? You stole my joke before I even said it! I guess that's soulmate culture for you," he sighs dreamily, before yelping loudly when you shove two gloved fingers up his nostrils. "Hey! What was that for!"
"Oh, sorry," you apologize unapologetically. "I was just worried that if I slathered it on top of your nose, I might accidentally trigger your transformation, so I took the safer route it jammed it up your nostrils instead."
"Whatever happened to a gentlelady's touch..." he whines, scowling petulantly at you. "Wait, if you're gonna jam it up my nostrils, then does that you're also gonna jam it up my—"
Before he can finish his sentence, you push him down onto his stomach, kneeling on his back and literally stealing his breath away. "Aight, rat. I'm shoving your pants down now," you warn gruffly. He makes a winded sound, probably a snarky response that would have made you slap his nuts. Fortunately, your legs were currently crushing his windpipe and leaving him incapable of speaking.
It's funny how you’ve become numb to the sight of his naked ass at this point. Once upon a time, you had blushed constantly at the sight of his sweet cheeks, making for an awkward first two months of living together. Every time you close your eyes, the two globes would be imprinted underneath your lids, haunting you. Nowadays, you'd be more concerned if he wasn't wearing his signature "God Won't Let Me Die" booty shorts.
Also, despite what he says, he isn't completely assless. He has a substantial amount of cake, certainly nothing to scoff at. You grumble and moan about "having" to massage his ass, but honestly? Who wouldn't want to grab his ass? You might be stupid, but you aren't an idiot.
“The salve is going to be cold, by the way,” you warn, though it’s useless to say at this point since he already experienced it when you shoved up his nose just two minutes ago. Whatever. 
Unlike then, you are much gentler applying the salve on his butt this time, mostly out of fear that 1) you'd accidentally penetrate his asshole with your finger like that one time (don't ask), or 2) you'd massage his butt like you know he wants you to.
“Harder, mommy,” he fake moans, wiggling his ass. You almost slap him on instinct, but think better of it.
"I hate that you're such a... debauched cretin," you say, tenderly rubbing his ass with a scowl. If any bystander were to see you, they'd might have thought you were his kind girlfriend rubbing medicine on a bruise or massaging your poor fatigued boyfriend. One might have even thought you were rubbing him a little bit too sensually, but little do people know... You were playing a stupid little prank on your dumbass familiar that may or may not cause him to beat you up (not that it would be much of a punishment to you, anyway. They don’t write romances like these anymore, huh?)
He taps you on the thigh, and you guess that he’s probably having difficulty breathing from your weight on his back. Feeling kinda bad for him, you shift your legs over, choosing to straddle him instead. However, the regret from your decision comes instantaneously the moment he regains his breath.
"You love me, though. You think I'm funny," Seokjin replies, albeit his voice is still a little strained under your weight.  "You think I'm cute, too."
Yeah, you do. "I think your hamster form is cute. Get that shit out of your head," you scoff, but your heated cheeks betray you.
“I can’t see you right now, but I bet your hair is an insane shade of purple, isn’t it?” he teases, wiggling like a worm to express his glee.
“Fuck you,” you grouse. You slap his thigh twice in retribution: the first one for teasing you, and the second one for pretending to moan after you had slapped him the first time.
He was only half-right about your hair, anyway. You catch a glimpse of your pastel purple and pink hair from the corner of your eye, alarmingly visible for all to see. Honestly, it doesn’t take a lot of brainpower to figure out what pink actually means, most especially since you have never been subtle with your affections for him. After all, not everyone has the patience to keep up with his antics. The fact that you haven’t squashed him into a tiny hamster pancake is proof enough that you really do love him.
I mean, who else would give Kim Seokjin ten wishes on his birthday? That's giving him way too much power that no one should be comfortable with. Just goes to show that maybe like attracts like, sometimes. You must be a little crazy too, you suppose.
He’s never caught on to your feelings, however, as he probably thinks you’re more like an annoying younger sister or something. After all, you bicker with him more than anything else, but that’s just how it is on this bitch of an earth.
Luckily or unluckily for you, Seokjin doesn’t comment on your hair color when he sits up after you finish rubbing the herbs onto his gooch. He’s much too busy wrinkling his nose in confusion, his forehead scrunching as the herbs are presumably starting to take effect.
“How am I supposed to know when the herbs work?” he asks, scratching his nose. The salve has dried out considerably, turning more into flecks that fall off when he disturbs it. So now, it looks like he has disgusting leathery boogers hanging out from his nostrils. Somehow, he makes it work anyway.
“Oh, you’ll know,” you respond vaguely, smiling when you can tell that Seokjin’s suspicions are beginning to grow. “Want me to test it out?”
Seokjin nods, leaning closer and presenting you with his nose. You tap him gently on the tip (lol), both of you waiting for the scent of caramel and mint to signal his shift. When nothing comes, Seokjin gasps in elation, clapping his hands gleefully as he bounces up and down in his seat.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe that worked! I was so sure you were gonna prank me… I overestimated you,” he says haughtily, pointing his stupid nose up in the air. He guffaws, standing up and wagging his ass at you smugly. “C’mon, then! Slap my ass and let’s see if it really works!”
You don’t move immediately, disappointed when the actual effect of the herb doesn’t seem to be working. You pout, observing him skeptically. “Wait, hold on. Are you sure you don’t feel weird?”
His victory hoots come to an abrupt halt. “No? Why would I be?”
“Don’t you… smell anything odd?”
Seokjin looks at you weirdly. “No? Unless you count not smelling my transformation scent, then—wait, just a second.” He freezes up, sniffing the air with a disgusted expression on his face. “Shit, you’re right! There’s something super funky in the air. You didn’t fuck up my sense of smell or something, did you?”
“Nope,” you say, popping your p. Your smirk grows, breathy giggles escaping you. “Say, can you describe what you’re smelling?”
“Oh Merlin, it’s terrible! It smells like shit? Like fucking… like ass or something!” He grimaces, sticking his tongue out as he is assaulted by the stench that only he can smell. “What the fuck is that? Oh my fucking word…”
You’re breaking into full out laughter at this point, nearly falling over onto the floor from the strength of your mirth. You barely hear Seokjin’s squawks of bewilderment, ignoring his demands to tell him what you had done to him.
“I can’t believe it worked,” you wheeze, hunched over on your knees. You’re spraying spit everywhere from your hysterics, though you are exaggerating your delight a little just to piss Seokjin off. You point and scream at his face, hollering like a banshee until he finally grabs your wrists to make you stop.
“Out with it! What the hell did you do to me?” he shouts, shaking you roughly with unhinged eyes.
It takes you a moment to respond, unable to breathe through your giggles. “You—you’re fucking—smelling your own—wheeze—your own ass!”
Seokjin stares at you, dumbfounded. “What?!”
“Your—HAHA—your fucking ass! I switched your nose to your ass, you idiot! Just like you asked!”
Seokjin’s jaw drops, complete bafflement and betrayal on his expression. He backs away from you, shaking his head slowly with bugged-out eyes as he begins to fully understand the weight of your treachery. “You,” he seethes, venom dripping from that singular word. He sounds like a pet owner about to scold their dumbass cat for eating his prized plastic big booby women figurines or something. 
You grin sweetly back at him, batting your eyelashes for extra effect. “Me? What about me?”
You don’t even have the reflexes to dodge him when he lunges for you, grabbing your neck and strangling you. “You bitch! How could you do this to me on my birthday!”
“Hehehe…” you wheeze, sounding even more goblin-ish with his grip on your throat. “You underestimated me, bastard. You asked for your ass to become your transformation point, and I did. You never said I couldn’t make transfer your sense of smell, too.”
“I didn’t ask you to make me smell my own ass! This is fucking garbage!” he yells, letting you go. You gasp for breath, but you’re still shaking with laughter at the absolutely deranged look in his eyes. He looks like an ape that was recently set free from his enclosure and out onto the streets.
“That’s what you get for not wiping your ass, then!” you retort, sticking your tongue out petulantly.
“Well, we can’t go to Namjoon’s house when all I can smell is my own fucking ass! Merlin, I should’ve downed the luck potion when you left to get changed, but I wanted to be A GOOD PERSON and so decided against it,” he sniffs, utterly irked by this turn of events. “I’m never going to be a moral person again!”
“When have you ever been one? I wasn’t even aware you had a conscience,” you say. “Wait, that reminds me. I’ll be taking these until we go to Namjoon’s, then!” You grab the luck and truth potions, keeping them behind your back. Seokjin immediately tries to grab them, but you’re quick to punch him in the gut with your free hand.
“Ooph! You’re such a meanie—aw shit!” Seokjin screams, holding his hands to his nose instinctively. “Fuck! That was a dirty move! You know hitting my stomach makes me fart! I can’t even cover my nose!”
“Hey, maybe for your next wish, you should ask for some cake. Then maybe we can recreate the cake farts video,” you suggest, mostly as a joke. But of course, you shouldn’t have been surprised when Seokjin starts to seriously contemplate your offer.
“Hmm… I was gonna ask for cake next, but now you’re making me really want cake now,” he hums, shrugging you off when you hit him in retaliation. “What? Why do you keep hitting me?! You’re the one who said it, not me! We might as well turn lemons into lemonade!”
“It was a fucking joke, you moron! I’m seriously going to eat you if you don’t stop being weird—”
“Oh shit, how do you keep reading my mind? Vore was gonna be my next wish too—”
“Shut up!” you hiss, your ears perking up. “I think I heard something from outside.”
You were both so busy bickering with each other that you hadn’t noticed that the doorbell had been ringing for the last minute or so. You both freeze, hearing the shrill sound of the bell going off, followed by three loud knocks. “Hello? Y/N? Are you home?” a familiar voice calls out. “It’s me, Taehyung!”
“Taehyung?” you shriek, staring incredulously at the door. He isn’t meant to visit until the end of the month to pick up refills for his grandfather’s medication. What could he need all of a sudden? “H-hold on! Gimme one sec!”
You’re only two steps away from answering the door when a growl (a squeal? Can hamsters growl?) stops you in your tracks. You slowly turn back to Seokjin, your blood running cold when you remember his blatant dislike for this particular customer. In fact, his aversion towards Taehyung runs so deep that you never allow him to stay in his human form around him lest he begins cursing him out like a sailor.
It doesn’t help, however, that Taehyung only ever sees him in his hamster form and constantly coos at him like a pet. You’ve had to apologize numerous times for the dozens of bites all over his hands and arms, but Taehyung always laughs it off, too oblivious to realize that a two-inch hamster wants to suffocate him with his own mullet.
There seems to be no discernable reason as to why Seokjin loathes Taehyung with such passion, though you’ve always suspected that it’s because he feels threatened by people prettier than him. You’d be the last person to admit to him that he’ll always be the prettiest in your eyes, especially since it would only make him ten times more insufferable.
Until then, Taehyung is just going to have to deal with a murderous, psychotic furball coming for his life. 
Aforementioned psychotic furball takes a step towards the front door, but you’re quick to block his path. “Don’t you dare,” you warn, but you can already sense Seokjin’s hackles rising.
“I know what I want for my next wish,” Seokjin responds instead, disregarding your order.
“Overruled. I’m not letting you kick Taehyung in the nuts,” you say, hands poised to attack. You’re about to smack him on the nose when you realize that it’s not going to work this time. “Fuck! Give me your ass! I am not letting you get away with murder for your birthday!”
“I’ll give you my ass next time, darling. For now, I must defeat my sworn enemy, once and for all!” he howls, making a mad dash towards the door. “I’ll kill you, pretty boy! Only one person can be pretty, and it’s going to be me!”
He may be quicker than you on a regular day, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gives you enough speed to land a loud, fat slap on his ass before he can even think to twist the doorknob open. Seokjin yelps in surprise as he turns towards you with a betrayed look in his eyes, before promptly being swallowed up by pink smoke and leaving an aggressive ball of fur where he once stood.
“Squeak! Squeak squeak squeak squeak!!” he squeaks, and you’ve long since learned his mannerisms well enough that you know that he just said “Y/N! I’ll fucking kill you!!” or something to that effect.
You pick him up gently into your hands, shushing him to no avail. “Fine, if you’re going to be that way—” you hiss, glaring at him when he gives you a haughty squeak. “—then I’ll just have to...yah!” you yell, hucking him across your living room and (safely) onto the couch.
(Caution: Do not do this to your hamsters. Seokjin is a magical hamster and is unnaturally sturdy, even in hamster form. He is an outlier and should not be counted. Plus, he deserves it.)
With Seokjin out of the way, you finally manage to get the door open without trouble. You greet Taehyung with a smile, although you do not doubt in your mind that you must look a bit worse for wear. Like the gentleman that he is, Taehyung doesn’t comment on your haggard appearance.
“Hey, Y/N. Sorry for intruding without notice. May I come in?” he asks. You nod a little too enthusiastically, stepping aside and allowing him into your abode. You glance at the couch, gasping quietly when you don’t see Seokjin anywhere. 
“Shit,” you curse lowly, to which Taehyung turns to you with a confused look.
“Pardon?” He must have mistaken your agitation to be directed towards him, as he bows to you apologetically. “Sorry again, you must be busy with other things today, but I’m in desperate need of a refill.”
“A refill?” you ask, semi-distracted as your eyes flit around the room, desperately searching for the small brown ball undoubtedly zipping around right under your nose. “What for? Is your grandfather doing okay?”
“Yes, ol’ pops is doing fine. I’m here to ask for a refill for… the other thing,” he coughs, cheeks darkening ever so slightly. His embarrassed tone breaks you from your search for Seokjin, forcing your gaze on him instead.
“The other thing? What do you mean—oh,” you interrupt yourself, finally understanding his meaning. “That thing.”
Taehyung nods frantically, hiding his face in his hands. “S-sorry, I know I asked for that potion as a one-time thing, but I met this new girl who’s really energetic, and let’s just say that I’m not keen on disappointing her when we’ve only started dating.”
You chuckle lightly, patting him on the back. “No need to explain, Tae. I’m not here to judge you. Besides, I just hope this girl doesn’t accidentally kill you like the previous one. Didn’t you say you went at it for three days straight?”
Taehyung groans, his flush growing until it reaches the back of his neck. “D-don’t even remind me about that! I accidentally took two doses of the potion that time and I was wishing for death by the seventh hour. I swear, I thought my dick was gonna turn into a raisin by the end of it—”
You both turn your heads towards the shrill noise coming from somewhere in your kitchen. “Shit, I forgot! T-Tae, just stay right here! I’ll be right back.” You jog towards the source, suddenly remembering that there was a live rodent on the loose with an evil agenda and only you would be able to stop him from fulfilling his goals.
You burst inside, immediately spotting that your bottom cupboard is ajar. It’s where you keep your extra stores of potions for regular customers, but you have very little time to wonder which potion Seokjin is aiming for before you’re already ripping open the door to stop the vermin.
“Oh you fucking little ballsack,” you snarl, dismayed when you realize that you’re too late. Seokjin has already found the potion he was looking for, having opened it up and already halfway finished drinking the damn thing.
You slap him away from the bottle before he can do any more damage, smacking him hard enough that his tiny hamster body slams against the cupboard wall. You don’t miss the victorious furry grin on his face, holding up a tiny hamster thumbs up to spite you. “What the hell did you drink?” you hiss, grabbing the half-empty bottle and flipping it over to read the label. “Verbosity potion… Oh, you bastard!”
You know Seokjin has always wanted to cuss out Taehyung like it’s his life mission, but you’ve always made sure that he was safely locked away in his bedroom whenever the younger boy was over for a visit. Seokjin knows today was his only opportunity to get his way, especially since he could always weasel his way out of punishment by using his birthday as an excuse.
“If you say even one word to Taehyung, I swear I’ll—”
“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Taehyung asks meekly from the living room, still standing where you had left him. He has his neck craned slightly to check up on you, but your back is thankfully blocking his view of the tiny psychopath you call your familiar.
“Y-yes! Everything’s just peachy keen,” you laugh nervously, your attention still focused on Seokjin. Your familiar has yet to make a peep, and both of you are slightly confused when he struggles to speak.
“S...squeak?” Seokjin asks, blinking in bewilderment. He looks to you for an explanation, but you’re as lost as he is. Not to toot your own horn, but you’re one of the greatest potion makers of your generation; it’s almost unheard of for your potions to not work.
You don’t question it for now; instead, you grab Taehyung’s requested refill from the back, the red and pink label making it easy to locate. “Here you go! This should be less intense than the previous one I gave you. This one will lose its effect once you’ve… finished, to say the least,” you grimace, smiling awkwardly.
Taehyung takes it from you, shaking your hands wildly. “Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re definitely a lifesaver. I owe you one,” he says, already making his way out the door. “I’ll hand over the payment to you when I come to pick up my grandfather’s medicines at the end of the month if that’s fine with you!”
“No worries, Tae. Take care!” you call out, waving goodbye until he closes your door shut. With Taehyung gone, you instantly return to kneel in front of your cupboard, where Seokjin is still slumped over, unmoving. He looks more dazed than usual, his black eyes unseeing as he stares somewhere behind you.
“Seokjin? You alright? Can you speak?” you ask, but he doesn’t react, as if he hadn’t heard you. You wave a hand in front of his face, snapping your fingers when that doesn’t work. “Hey, smooth brain. I’m sorry for smacking you, okay? I know it’s your birthday and I should be treating you better, but you really shouldn’t snoop around in my potion stores and drink stuff without my permission.”
When Seokjin still does not reply, you decide to pick him up and place him on the floor. You tap him on the bum, waiting a few seconds until Seokjin is back to his human form. When the smoke fades, he’s still stuck in his stupor, but you notice the dark red flush creeping up his neck and ears.
“Seokjinnie? Holy shit, are you okay?” You panic slightly, holding a hand up to his forehead and gasping when you feel the sharp rise in his body temperature. He is definitely feverish, and you’re worried that he might have had some allergic reaction to the potion or something. “Shit, are you getting a rash? Sweetie, can you hear me? Say something, please.”
“Y/N,” he rasps, licking his lips. His pupils are undilated to an unnerving degree, and his breathing is ragged. He stands up unsteadily, wobbling in place. “Fuck, I don’t really feel well.” His voice is deep, speaking unusually slower. You shudder involuntarily, fearful and intrigued all at once.
You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Seokjin could seriously be in danger right now! Now is not the time to get horny! “Seokjin, explain how you feel. I’ll try to figure out what antidote I should make in case you actually did accidentally poison yourself with something,” you say hurriedly, going over to your stove and grabbing a spare cauldron from its rack. You’re grabbing random herbs and chucking them into a pot, too preoccupied and worried to hear Seokjin groan behind you.
“I feel… hot. And not in a sexy way,” Seokjin whimpers, curling into himself. There is sweat lining the edge of his brow, despite the house being relatively chilly due to the cold weather. “Okay, maybe a little bit in a sexy way.”
“Well if you can still joke about it, then it shouldn’t be life-threatening, whatever this is,” you say. Seokjin coughs out a laugh, but even that makes him cringe from the discomfort.
You decide to check the potion he had drank and see what ingredients you had used, as it usually will tell you how to make a reverse for it. When you grab the bottle, it only just hits you that the color of the potion is a little off than you remember. If you remember correctly, verbosity potions are usually a pale yellow color, but this one has a darker and deeper tone. In fact, you could see flecks of red sediment floating around, something that you recognize as wyvern blood.
Hold on… Verbosity potions don’t require wyvern blood. Very few potions require it at all, and the only one you can think of that would need it is none other than—
“Oh fucking shit,” you curse for what feels like the twentieth time in this story. You whip your head to face Seokjin, whose entire upper body seems to be bathed in a deep red flush. He’s panting in earnest now, tongue lolling out as he fights the fever consuming him. Little does he know, it isn’t a regular type of fever that he’ll be able to recover with medicine. You gulp, struggling to find an explanation.
“So, umm…” You laugh hesitantly, rubbing the back of your neck with a wry smile. Seokjin peeks up at you from behind his bangs, some of it plastered to his forehead from sweat. The faraway look in his eyes has disappeared, replaced by an unsettling hunger and darkness that is uncharacteristic for the mischievous hamster shifter. You gulp. “Seokjin, I think I know what you drank and it wasn’t the verbosity potion.”
“What?” he croaks, wincing when he adjusts himself to lean on the kitchen counter. You catch sight of a bulge forming in the front of his pajama shorts, miraculously still unnoticed by Seokjin himself. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m burning up.”
The way he utters your name brings a shiver down your spine, and your familiar notices immediately. His gaze is transfixed on the exposed part of your neck, trailing over your skin until his eyes finally land on your lips. You lick them unconsciously, with Seokjin following the movement.
“Seokjin, I need you to get to bed right now. I don’t know how long this potion is going to last, but I’m gonna need you to—”
“What did you do to me?” Seokjin growls, his grip on the counter tightening to the point that he may have cracked the marble. You know he’s strong despite being a prey shifter, but you didn’t think he’d become this powerful and aggravated. You’re guessing that it might be a side effect from him drinking the potion when he was in his hamster form. He had more or less drunk the dosage required for a regular-sized human, so his smaller body size must have led to a slight overdose. This is all guesswork on your part, but hindsight isn’t going to help you right now.
“I, umm… I think I might have accidentally mislabelled the potion,” you admit reluctantly, feeling meek under his heavy presence. You’ve never felt threatened or intimidated by him before, so this is completely uncharted territory for you. You know deep in your heart that he’d never do anything to hurt you even in his inebriated state, but you would still do well to take all your precautions when approaching him. “I think… I might have given Taehyung the wrong potion, too.”
Seokjin doesn’t respond and just keeps watching you as you fidget in place. You continue, “H-he came over today because he wanted a refill, right? W-well, he actually asked for libido potion. And, so—”
“You gave me horny juice? Is that what’s happening?” Seokjin groans, crossing his legs together when he finally registers the very distinct swelling in his underwear. “Fuck,” he moans, involuntarily humping the air to search for some sort of reprieve.
You scoff, trying to keep your tone as level as possible so as not to alarm him. “What do you mean I gave you horny juice? You’re the one who drank it without permission!” you retort, but the scolding dies on your lips when Seokjin starts to grind against the counter, small gasps leaving his mouth. Your throat goes dry, and you know it’ll only be a few more moments before Seokjin’s limited control will start to slip away.
“Y-Y/N, what do I do?” he whines, giving up on the counter and weakly reaching out for you. “I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t cum right now. I-I need you.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you start, your stomach swirling with arousal. His scent is stronger than usual, filling your senses with nothing but caramel, mint, and Seokjin. Even as you’re talking, you feel your resolve chipping away despite your better judgment. “You’re not thinking properly right now, and I don’t wanna take advantage of you—”
“N-no! I want it, no, I want you. I’ve always wanted you,” he pants, taking the two short steps to latch his hands on your waist. You flinch when you feel his large palms touch you, the heat palpable even through your clothes. Even with lust clouding his vision, he is gentle with you, like he’s afraid of hurting you. “I-I know you must think I’m a nuisance, and I’ve done n-nothing but annoy you these past few months, but I… I genuinely care about you a lot, Y/N. W-which is why I was so hurt when I thought you forgot my birthday, but even if you did, I was j-just happy to be living with you. Because I really lo—”
He gasps, unable to finish his thought as he accidentally tightens his grasp on you. He pulls you closer until your bodies are aligned, nuzzling into your neck. His teeth scrape your skin slightly, pulling a loud moan from you. You flush, embarrassed, but you have no time to worry about that when you feel how incredibly hard and solid he is against your stomach.
“P-please, help me? It doesn’t have to mean anything; we can forget about it after but right now, I don’t think I’m going to live past tomorrow unless I have my cock stuffing your pussy right this very moment,” he says in one breath, his hands reaching behind you to squeeze your ass. He inhales deeply, releasing it with a content sigh. “Fuck, I can already smell how wet you are. I just know my cock will stretch it out real good, just like how I always dreamed.”
“You… you dreamt of me like that?” you whisper, shocked. You don’t know why your brain latches onto that piece of information out of all the filthy things he just said, but you have to admit that the thought of him having wet dreams about you turns you on greatly.
“Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself?” He sounds incredulous, like you’d just said something completely unfathomable to him. “Fuck, do you remember when I got my rut two months ago, and I stayed with Namjoon and Yoongi so that you wouldn’t feel awkward around me? They love to tease me about the number of times I moaned your name every time I came,” he admits. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you even if I tried.”
“Fuck, Seokjinnie,” you whine, your fingers scrambling to hang onto his chest, his back, his neck—anywhere, really. Your legs feel like jelly, afraid that you might stumble from how weak you’ve become from your own arousal. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”
“I’m sorry I had to confess this way,” he says, caressing your hair with unexpected tenderness. He chuckles quietly, his breath tickling your neck. “But I really mean it, horny juice or not.”
Your heart squeezes inside your chest, not believing your lucky stars for allowing you to meet this wonderful boy in front of you. You can hardly believe your ears; never in your wildest dreams would you ever expect that he would also like you back.
“Seokjin, I also—” you begin, ready to spill your feelings all over the floor, but the moment is broken when Seokjin abruptly lifts you by the ass, his palms squeezing you as he barrels determinedly to his bedroom. You shriek in surprise, clutching onto his neck and holding on for dear life. “What the fuck? Seokjin, put me down!”
“No time for feelings! We can talk after we fuck,” he hoots, bouncing you onto the bed. You grunt from the impact, disoriented by the quick turn of events. Your head is spinning, so you don’t even register Seokjin’s hands peeling off your pants in one smooth motion.
A mixture of the cold air and nerves causes your legs to be littered with goosebumps. Seokjin, ever the attentive familiar, notices and rubs soothing circles all over, the heat inside of you coming back with a vengeance. “Sorry about that, baby,” he coos, massaging you. You shake your head, telling him it’s alright.
You are embarrassed when you feel how your panties stick uncomfortably against your skin, already so painfully aroused as if you had been the one affected by the potion. Your shame melts away when you see how much worse Seokjin is, however, as his nostrils flare with want. 
“I’m glad my nose still works, by the way. I don’t know what I’d do if I missed the opportunity to smell your pretty pussy,” he sighs, situating himself in between your legs. He blows gently against your clothed slit, effectively causing all coherency to leave you for the night.
He watches your reactions slyly, his body heat radiating off of him in waves. For once, he looks more like predator than prey. “I know I said I was desperate to fuck you, but do you mind if I start with an appetizer first? I wanted cake today, but turns out my dessert was here all along…” he trails off, smirking when he catches the steadily growing spot on your underwear. “Oh, baby. I know you’re going to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“I-I,” you stutter, shuddering with desire. You whimper pathetically as he traces your panties with a fingernail, your stomach clenching with desire. “I didn’t know you could be like this.”
“Like what?” he hums, pulling your panties off to join your discarded pants. He grins at the sight of your glistening core, wetting his lips in anticipation. “God, you’re so pretty. I could just eat you up.”
“Then why don’t you?” you reply, trying to gain some semblance of control. That silly notion is thrown out the window, however, the moment Seokjin licks a fat stripe up your cunt. “Ngnnhh, fuck!”
Seokjin moans in tandem with you, slurping you up like a starved man. “Baby, you’re just as good as I thought. I could cum from eating you out alone.” He takes a deep breath, kissing your core almost chastely. “Fuck, I know I could cum from this alone,” he amends, rubbing his clothed length against the bed sheets.
The velvety wet heat of his tongue on your dripping pussy makes you clench around nothing, ripping a scream out of you when he focuses directly on your clit. He sucks with an obscene grin on his face, holding your hips down when your entire body begins to tremble.
“So sensitive,” Seokjin says, sluggish and gravelly like he’s drunk on your taste. “So fucking sensitive. How are you real, baby?”
“Jinnie, please,” you whine, doing your best to grind on his tongue despite his iron hold on you. “I want more, please.”
Seokjin only chuckles darkly, continuing his vicious pace. “C’mon, use my tongue like you want,” he says, letting go of you and allowing you to hump his mouth with reckless abandon.
You do as he says, swirling your hips against him with reckless abandon. The heat in your abdomen steadily builds, and you know you’re only seconds away from tipping over. “I’m close, Seokjin,” you huff, chasing your high. “Please, let me cum? Can I cum, Seokjinnie?”
He nods his head, unable to respond verbally as you continue to assault his tongue. After three more licks, you release with a silent scream, writhing violently from the strength of it. 
He gives your clit one last sweet peck, sitting up with a feral grin on his face. His chin is dripping with your arousal, his plump lips redder than usual. He makes a show of licking your juices around his mouth, chuckling when all you can do is swallow wantonly.
“Thank you for the meal, baby,” he teases, his lust-riddled gaze slightly clearer now that he’s had a proper taste of you. However, the glaring tent in his shorts is still painfully present, a small darkened patch visible on his crotch.
“Wan’ your cock,” you slur, boneless and blissed out but still filled with the longing for more. “Fill my cunnie until I can’t walk anymore,” you croak, pussy twitching for extra measure. Seokjin’s expression twists, his pupils widening until his eyes are pitch black.
Seokjin doesn’t waste any more time. He rips his shorts off in record time, stripping himself of his shirt as well. You remove your own shirt and bra, causing your nipples to harden from the cold air. You tweak them as you wait for Seokjin to get himself situated, hungrily appreciating his beautiful torso and god-like shoulders. “Don’t use a condom, Jinnie. I want to feel all of you,” you say when he begins to reach inside his dresser. You can physically feel his unhinged desire growing from your words, your pussy dripping in anticipation.
“Gonna fill your pretty pussy, huh? Fill you until you have my babies?” he rasps, positioning his cock in front of you. “Gonna plug you up with my cum, Y/N? Is that what you want?”
You cant your hips upward, whining when his tip only just grazes your lips teasingly. “Fuck me already,” you beg. “Want you to ruin me.”
“Who am I to deny you? Ask and you shall receive,” he grins, before slowly pushing inside. Your jaw drops at the intrusion, as it’s been a while since you’ve last gotten fucked like this. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Almost like your pussy is sucking me in,” he groans, straining to keep himself from thrusting all the way into you. “Like you’re made for me.”
“You can m-move faster. I can take it,” you whisper, eyebrows pulling together. You sound desperate to your own ears, the pain and pleasure mixing deliciously and making your cunt weep with want. 
There is a moment of hesitation on Seokjin’s part, but that all drains away when he sees your determination. Without another warning, he shoves himself up to the hilt, causing you to arch your back with a loud cry.
“Fuck,” he curses, but there is still worry in his eyes. “Baby, are okay? Are you good?”
It takes you a moment to remember how to speak. “C’mon, Seokjin. Move. I can take it,” you beg. 
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he moans, but nods his head anyway.
Seokjin pulls back until only his tip remains inside you before slamming back harshly, hard enough that you’re sliding backward. He begins his brutal pace, his dick stretching you out nicely like he promised. You let out tiny squeaks with every pump of cock, hitting you perfectly in the spot that makes you see stars.
“Kiss me?” you gasp out in between moans, pulling him by the hair until you’re kissing him sloppily. It’s more teeth than anything, as Seokjin grunts into your mouth with every tug of his roots. You bite his bottom lip after a particularly rough thrust, but it only encourages him to pick up the pace.
You wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him as close as humanly possible. You can already feel your second orgasm approaching rapidly, your toes curling in anticipation.
“Seokjinnie, I’m gonna cum soon. Please, I can’t hold it—”
“I’m close too,” he says hotly in your ear. He sucks a bruise into your neck, moaning when he feels your pussy tighten in response. He drills into your cunt faster, the rhythm of his thrusts growing sloppy as he reaches his own release. He reaches down between the two of you, rubbing circles into your clit. “Fuck, baby. Cum with me?”
You sob his name, your muscles contracting as your body lights up with intense pleasure. Your back arches off the bed, your walls milking Seokjin dry until thick white ropes of cum start leaking in rivulets down your sopping cunt and all over your thighs. You can feel his throbbing length inside you as continuous streams of hot seed keep flowing from him, filling you to the brim.
Seokjin slowly comes to a complete halt, but he still hasn’t pulled out. “I’m gonna keep my cum in you for a moment, okay? Don’t wanna waste any of it, right?”
You can only nod tiredly in agreement, completely tuckered out. Your chest heaves from your laboured breathing, but the smile on your face can only be described as content. “Wow. Color me surprised. Didn’t think you’d wanna be a father so early,” you say hoarsely.
Now sated, Seokjin’s demeanor returns to its normal state, his aura less crazed than before. He has the decency to look embarrassed, but the twinkle in his eyes shows that he doesn’t regret it in the slightest. “I’d be more than happy to be the father of your children. We’re already going to live with each other forever, so I might as well raise your children anyway.”
“Might as well?” you laugh, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. “You make it sound like it’s your obligation. And who said I’d live with you forever?”
“Well, I mean, who else is going to love you the way that I do?” he murmurs, nuzzling your noses together. “Who else would be your annoyingly handsome hamster familiar?”
“Quite,” you grumble, allowing him to maneuver you into a more comfortable cuddling position. You kiss him properly this time, enjoying the sweet, warm pleasure of his affection. You’ve never felt so happy in your life. “Happy birthday, Seokjin. I’m sorry this isn’t the way I planned for it to go, but I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Agreed. It’s just like us, huh?” he snorts. He cushions your face against his chest, carding his fingers tenderly through your hair. “Say… Y/N?”
“Tell me, what does your pink hair actually mean?”
You chuckle, snuggling deeper into his comforting scent. You feel yourself slipping into slumber, eyelids threatening to fall. You’ve always loved cuddling Seokjin, after all. But most of all... 
I love you, of course. “I think you already know, genius.”
Even when the sun finishes its descent from the sky and darkness fills the room, the bright pink of your hair glows—unfaltering.
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colorseeingchick · 5 months ago
Period Pains (Iwa, Suna, Bokuto)
Periods still stuck. Nothing has changed since part one. But these boys continue to comfort me when I feel like my heart, head, and stomach are going to explode :D. I hope they comfort you too!
A/N: It’s been rough homies. It really do be your own body that tries to attack you -_-. 
Warnings: EMETOPHOBIA (in Suna’s there’s a semi detailed description of vomiting); swearing; foot massage in Bokuto’s (Ik that makes some people uncomfy); gym bros. 
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Iwaizumi Hajime
It was common knowledge that you and Iwaizumi were two halves of one insane power couple. 
No questions asked, you both were generally independent when it came to taking care of your own matters, and you were both were pretty independent. 
But there were exceptions- moments where you would both lean on each other, using the other as an anchor and a crutch to get back up and stay on your feet. 
Your period was one of those times when times you needed your beloved boyfriend to play that role. 
Today was one of those days. 
You and Iwaizumi head over to the gym at around 6 am to get your early morning workout in before you go through with the rest of your day.
You had told Iwaizumi the night before, and he asked if you still wanted to “go gym” the next morning. 
You said yes, hoping that a solid workout would help with some of the cramps. 
And once you had got there, you had your hopes up. 
The first half of your workout was going really well, and you hadn’t thought of your cramps at all. 
But then it hit you while you were walking over to get your water bottle. 
You didn’t know why, but the cramps hit you hard. Instantly you went to the bathroom to try and compose yourself, but that wasn’t really helping either. 
You didn’t wanna bother Iwaizumi mid workout, so you tried to carry on. 
Unfortunately, that didn’t work out too well. 
As you tried to keep going, the cramps in your stomach got worse and worse, until you were pressing your stomach with your hands, curled over yourself on your yoga mat. 
Taking deep breaths, you tried to relieve the only worsening cramps. 
It wasn’t until a warm, firm hand caressed your back did you look up from your curled up form. 
“1 to 10.” Iwaizumi asks you with a soft voice. 
“4.” You say as you curl into yourself once more. 
It was the pain ranking system that you’d both been using since early on in your relationship. You knew exactly what he meant, and you were honestly thankful that he understood you were in pain by just looking at you. 
“Lying to me doesn’t do any good, ya know.” His words are harsh, yet the concern in his voice kills any intimidation that was supposed to come across. 
“Sounds right.” Iwa’s one arm wraps around you, digging into your side, his thumb massaging circles into the spot right above your left hip, while the other hand rubbed softer circles onto your lower belly. 
You felt your muscles untense as his hands worked away at your cramping stomach with deep pressure only he had the strength to apply. 
“What’s wrong with her?'' 
Both of you look up to see some guy (he seemed like a newbie, neither of you had seen him before) talking to your boyfriend. 
“What.” Iwa’s voice is dry, in shock at the fact that this dude was in your business. 
“Did she injure herself working out or something?” He asks, as if you were incapable of speaking for yourself. “Not being careful in the gym can be really dangerous, especially if you’re not trained.” He speaks in your direction this time. 
Iwaizumi Hajime (27) ATHLETIC TRAINER, now looked like he was ready to commit murder. 
Some of the regulars had now turned to watch, most giving the guy dirty looks.
A couple of you and Iwa’s closer gym bros step towards you both, making some preparations for Iwaizumi to swing. 
But before anyone can really say anything, your voice cuts through. 
“That’s real rich coming from you. The only thing that’s gonna cause an injury is your horrendous deadlift form.” 
Your boyfriend goes from a state of shock into a fit of snickers, the guys on the side also amused. The guy in front of you goes completely red. 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about you bi-” 
“I actually think she’s right. I was a bit worried, too.” One of Iwa’s (very buff) friends stepped forward, smiling at you two before putting a hand a on the newbie’s shoulder. “Let’s go check it out.”
As you sigh out, your boyfriend stares at you with pride and amusement both bright in his eyes. “All that pain and you’re still able to come up with snarky comments.” 
As his hand returns to soothing circular motions, you dig your face into his chest. 
The soft touches from Iwa were enough to ease your pains, and allowed you to embrace your moment of vulnerability with your sweet boyfriend. 
“Let’s dip and get food, okay? And you can just rest at home. You deserve a break.”
“Weren’t you saying something about how the grind doesn’t stop-”
“It stops when your health is on the line. Let’s go.”
Suna Rintarou
When it comes to you being on your period, Suna is by far the most hands off while simultaneously being the most attentive. 
Suna wasn’t necessarily the biggest on PDA. But when it was just you two? He had no problem being all up against you.
The only situation Suna does not know how to navigate is when he can’t read someone’s moods or behaviors. Luckily for him, you were overly clear with his emotions and needs when you were on your period, even if those moods and needs were all over the place. 
Early on, when you got together, he was a bit surprised to see how bad your period could get.
He’d walked in to your room one day to see you in a fetal position, rolling around on the floor.
He’d seen you go a full day of eating only junk food, upset and trying to satiate all your cravings. 
He’d also seen you go without sleep because of how bad your cramps were.
Essentially, he’d learned you’d go through really bad health habits, and he’d assigned himself the roll of trying to make sure you maintained some regularity while on your period. 
He was ready for anything, so ready that he made it look effortless. 
When Suna came back from practice one day, he couldn't find you anywhere in your shared home. Which isn’t a problem, but he doesn’t recall you saying you were going anywhere....
It’s not till he lazily stalks over to the hallway and hears a horrible retching sound that he realizes you are still home. 
Swinging the door open, he finds you perched over the toilet, vomiting in what looks to be a super painful manner. 
“Rin...ta...r-oh fuck” you can barely get his name out before you start throwing up again. 
Your boyfriend takes a step into the bathroom, but you toss an intense ‘no’ his way with your hand. 
“It smells disgusting… and… I don’t want to be smothered right now…” you sigh as you breathe between your bouts of vomiting. 
He takes a deep breath, recomposing himself. He knows your period can get pretty bad, but he hasn’t seen it get this bad in a while. He obliges, but he doesn’t move from the doorway. 
As you start your next fit, Suna’s face remains blank, but his heart twists. 
He slowly approaches you, kneeling beside you. 
“I said to not.. To smother me....” your protest is weakened by your body inhibiting your ability to speak. 
Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he gently grabs your hair, pulling strand by strand, until its completely out of your face 
(alternatively, if you have short hair), Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he lets his hand gently rest on your back, rubbing in soothing circles . 
Your hand goes up to push him away, but he grabs your fist with his larger hand, weaving his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb into the back of your hand. 
“I won’t smother, don’t worry. But I’m gonna be here.” He’s soft in his tone, unfazed despite the relative unpleasantness of the situation. 
As you finally stop, you fall back, your hands covering your eyes. 
As you lean back, your body giving out, your head finds its way onto the plush chest of your green eyed boyfriend. He doesn’t touch you, but just acts as a makeshift couch for you to lean on. 
“Rintarou.” “
“I need your touch.” 
Your words are blunt but effortlessly received as your boyfriend instinctively wraps his arms around you, languidly stroking your thigh with one hand and holding your stomach with the other. He adjusts you so that you’re pressed up against him. 
“Better, babe?” he asks as he backs up into the wall, loosening up as you relax against him. 
“Mmm.” You croon, sinking down against him. “I should  brush my teeth, I’m sorry you came back to this.”
“It’s fine. Get cleaned up. Wanna watch movies? I got Chinese takeout.” 
“I don’t want Chinese,” you comment.
 “What do you want?” 
 He sighs. “I’ll be back in 20.”
 “I love you.” you smile at him as you tell him what he already knows. 
He presses his nose into your hair, letting your conditioner’s scent fill his nose. “Mmm… and I love you.” 
“How much?” You ask.
“How much do I what?” 
“How much do you love me?” 
“Enough to get you pizza at 10 pm in the pouring rain.” 
“It’s raining??”
“...Nevermind I don’t want pizza anymore.”
“Well I want pizza now so I’m going.” He pulls himself up and out of the bathroom despite the way you tried to cling to his leg to keep him from leaving. 
Bokuto Koutarou
Bokuto is honestly the ideal boyfriend, especially when you are on your period. 
Early in your relationship, when you got on your period, you didn’t tell Bo. But he ended up learning the hard way. 
He’d come back from practice a bit later than usual and didn’t text you. Usually he didn’t, especially if he knew he’d only be a little late. But when he walked through the doors, instead of finding his usually happy, bubbly girlfriend who usually showered him with love, he was greeted with you crying. 
“W-why didn’t-t you text me, Kou? Do you-u not care about me?” 
He had nooo idea what was going on, and he was very panicked and sad. 
He felt like the rug was pulled out from under him when you proceeded to snuggle into his chest 2 minutes later, cries completely stopped. His little owl eyes were wide open and very confused. 
2 days later, he asked about the situation again, scared to bring it up.
But you were really embarrassed as you explained how you were on your period and could get extreme mood swings. You apologized and promised that you’d never do something wild like that again.
But Bo wasn’t content with your answer. 
He went and asked Akaashi if he knew anything about what periods were like (he was shy to ask you). 
Akaashi found the lovely statistic of “period pain being of equal pain levels of a heart attack” and Bokuto lost his shit. “
I’ve never had a heart attack, but they kill people! And they go for the hospital for those! And she apologized for being a little emotional… that doesn’t seem right, right Kaashi?”
Akaashi agrees, of course. And sends Bokuto off with the advice of “she’s always there for you. All you have to do is be there for her.” 
When the next time you had your period rolled around, and you found yourself a little emotional, you did your best to control it. But Bokuto was having none of it. 
“Baby, you don’t have to hide it! You can be emotional!! I don’t mind. You always help me when I’m emotional! I can do the same for you. I’ll take the best care of you, I promise!” 
You would honestly call it a turning point in your relationship, cause this was when you learned to start really depending on Bo. And you realized just how dependable he could really be. 
When Bokuto comes back from practice today, he finds you splayed out on the couch, koala-hugging a pillow, whimpering a “welcome home” between grunts of pain. 
Bokuto stays quiet as he walks up to the couch, dipping down to place a kiss on your cheek before stripping his sweaty t-shirt off as he walks off to take a shower. 
Once he comes out, fresh and clean, he throws on a comfortable t-shirt and shorts before coming back to find you on the couch. 
He grabs your legs, pulls them up, sits down, and then places them in his lap. “Baby, do you want a massage? I can press your legs.” 
“You don’t have to, Kou, it’s okay.” 
“I want to!” He cheers back as he starts to knead at your calves, moving down to your feet and slowly pressing over your socks. 
You sigh and huff, slowly relaxing as the soothing feeling of the pressure applied to your feet counteracts the pain you felt in your lower abdomen. 
While Bokuto concentrates intensely on massaging your calves again, he perks up at the sound of a sniffle.
 Swinging his head, he sees you slowly dissolving into sobs. 
Panicked, he slides your legs onto the couch and comes by your face. 
“Baby, did I press too hard? Did I hurt you? Please tell me.”
“No, no, Kou, you’re fine. I’m just- I’m so lucky and blessed to have such a loving amazing boyfriend~” you get the words out as tears stream down your face, turning to look him in his big, gorgeous, gold eyes. “I don’t deserve you, my love.”
Now, for reasons unknown, Bokuto finds himself crying as well. 
“Why are you crying!” You cry and laugh out at the same time. 
“Because I have such a sweet girlfriend who always showers me in love! Don’t say I don’t deserve you. You’re perfect for me.” 
Cheesy as the exchange was, it was really soft for you. Because you knew Bokuto, and you knew he meant every word exactly as is from the bottom of his heart. 
Crying while your laughs got lighter, you pull him in and kiss him all over his face. 
He laughs too, and holds your face as he pulls away, swiping the tears from under your eyes. “Your turn!!” 
After smothering you with kisses, he picks you up and carries you to your shared bedroom, so he can love on you more, with enough space for both of you to lay next each other and peacefully drift off to sleep. 
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A/N: Gym guys who don’t mind their business seriously bother me. I hope you all enjoyed! Requests and commentary are greatly appreciated :D 
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wesimpforxiao · 8 months ago
Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 8.2; Lantern Rite Part 1
You never had the chance to push Childe for answers on his vague statement, even after the two of you arrived in Liyue on the afternoon of the Lantern Rite.  It was as busy as you remembered, though it was nothing compared to how it would be once the sun set.  You weren't new to the festival, as you had gone a few times with Granny when you were a child, but that was a long time ago.  You were around twelve years old the last time you had joined the festival.
Being here again was like a breath of fresh air.  
It was a shame that breath of fresh air turned stale when Childe continued to prod at you.  "So, ojou-chan, what will you be doing after dark?"  He had intentionally turned it into a suggestive question, his smug brow raising slightly even after you glared daggers at him.
"I'm going to walk around, of course," you replied without giving him an inch.  "And I'm going to find Aether and Zhongli, too."
"Oh? Aren't you forgetting someone?"
"What I do in my free time is none of your business," your jaw tightened.  "You, Tartaglia, are literally a child.  Why don't you step aside and let your elders do what they want?  I am older than you, you know."
"I see you've picked up Signora's attitude," he moped and finally dropped the subject.
Perhaps you had, even though you hated her with all your life force after the trick she pulled at Angel's Share.  Even so, you couldn't help but bite the harbinger that fed you after he made strange offhanded comments about his own behavior, or his self-proclaimed 'apology' gift, or the way he held you the first time you felt Xiao's suffering.  You still couldn't figure out what was going on with him, and quite frankly, you could care less.  That's what you told yourself, anyway.
Was he an ally or an enemy?
"Earth to Mezzetin."  He rudely poked at your forehead.  "Is everything alright?  You've been obnoxiously loud all day and now you're quiet."
"You do realize you're equally as obnoxious?"  You met his eyes head-on after pulling away from your thoughts.  "I'm hungry."
"Ah, thought so.  Here," he handed you a heavy sack of mora without warning.  "I'll be at Northland Bank if you need anything."
"Eh? That's it?"  You watched him begin to walk off, expecting much more of a threat to your life if you so much as thought about running.
"You said it yourself ojou-chan, you're an adult," he called out over his shoulder.  "I'd expect you to act like one in these circumstances."
"Wha--!"  You scoffed at his shrinking figure as he climbed the stairs to the Snezhnayan bank.  "Ugh, whatever." Your gaze fell to the mora pouch in your hands.  Maybe I'll stop by the funeral parlor first and find Zhongli.
When you did, the archon paled at the sudden surprise appearance.  "How did you find yourself in Liyue Harbor?"  He scanned your body as if you were to be handled with care.  "I was under the impression you would remain at Zapolyarny Palace until further notice.  How did you happen to gain the Tsaritsa's trust so quickly?"
"Eh, you'll have to ask Childe that."  You didn't notice Zhongli's eyes narrow with contempt.  "He won't tell me why they decided to have me accompany him here," you answered without skipping a beat.  Though the archon was certainly thrown off guard, the two of you appeared to start right where you had left off like none of the events in the past two months had ever occurred in the first place.  It was refreshing to be with a friendly presence again, and you sighed in relief, hiding a wince from the sharp pain in your ribcage.
The movement didn't go unnoticed by Zhongli.  "Ah, yes...Allow me to brew you some tea.  The leaves I've gathered recently have exceptional pain-relieving qualities, though they don't compare to that of Xiao's medications--"
"How is he?"  Your interruption stopped the man in his tracks.  "Is he okay?"  If Zhongli knew you were feeling Xiao's pain, that meant the yaksha had been in contact.
"He's as well as he can be, given the circumstances he's been burdened with.  Do not worry yourself with him.  Please, take a seat."
You watched Zhongli's graceful movements as he prepared a kettle and brought the water to a boil, dropping the leaves in when it was hot enough.  You were oblivious to the thoughts that ran through his mind as he sent a wry smile your way.
That day, I made a grave miscalculation, Zhongli thought back to the group's encounter with Childe in Fontaine.  A guilty sigh escaped his lips as he poured the tea into two ceramic teacups.
Deception.  Maybe Zhongli was a little too good at playing the part of an innocent bystander, if he had succeeded in fooling Aether not once, but twice.  But this route would be the only way to ensure yours and Xiao's sanity...The archon grit his teeth as he parried Childe's relentless blows in the pouring rain.  The harbinger didn't hold back even though this was all for show.
How long did the fighting go on? Twenty minutes? Thirty?  An hour?  Childe gave the signal to Zhongli as he summoned his fifth and final narwhal using the rain that fell around them.  Most of the group was worn out from constantly changing tactics as the harbinger switched between his vision and delusion.  Childe was so much stronger than the first time he faced off with Aether...but so was Aether.  Zhongli understood the only way to make this plan work would be to sacrifice his two closest allies in one way or another.
"Retreat!"  Zhongli gave the order and an exhausted trio followed it without question.  Well, except for Aether.
"We can't leave Xiao!"
He had hoped he gave Xiao the push he needed to seal the bond, but it apparently was not enough..."Here is your tea," he placed the teacup in front of you before sitting at the opposite end of the table.  "Tell me, have they remained true to their word and put an end to your experiments?"
You blew at your steaming cup before taking a small sip.  "Yeah...They've already begun testing on Fatui agents, but every single one of them dies.  It's funny, actually.  Dottore still can't figure out the correct ratio for my blood.  I've watched hundreds die."
"And how are you?"
That question was loaded, but you swallowed the nervous chuckle that had bubbled in your throat.  "I'm just glad to be so close to home." To him, you meant, even if the two of you never actually met up during your stay here.  Your eyes trailed to the window, and Zhongli noticed the sadness in the depths of your gaze as you watched people decorate the buildings with xiao lanterns.
"Xiao will be especially busy today, fighting off the demons that rise from the festivities," he answered your looming question.  "But I am sure he would find the time to meet you if he knew you were here."
"You know, I hold most of his memories, but I can never seem to know what he's thinking."  Your low voice captured the archon's attention again after a few silent minutes.  You were saying it more to yourself than to spark a conversation, eyes still gazing out the window.  "Maybe I am chasing after a fruitless dream."
"Your love for Xiao is strong."
"Eh?" Your head snapped back to the present moment.  "H-how did you--did he--?"
Your flustered composure drew out a low chuckle from Zhongli, and he set his teacup aside.  "I've lived for six thousand years; I know a thing or two about human concepts and emotions.  The entire group has known for quite some time."
"I was that obvious?" An insane amount of heat rose to your cheeks and you buried your face in your hands.  "So did he know before I...?"
"Xiao may be a few thousand years old, but he understands humans less than I do.  I can confidently say you caught him off guard."
You peeked out from behind your fingers.  "Hm?"
"It is not my place to say anything more on the matter," his lips tugged into a friendly grin as he brought the teacup to his lips once again.  "But I would not call it a 'fruitless' dream."
The lanterns that lit the streets of Liyue illuminated the bustling crowds of people that were focused on getting food, souvenirs, and lanterns that were to be released later that evening.  You had parted ways with Zhongli in an effort to find Aether, with no luck in locating the boy even after nightfall.  Despite this, you navigated the festival alone in hopes of running into him as you eyed the food stalls.
That is, until the voices grew louder.  You swayed on your feet from the unexpected wave of nausea that overcame you, and grabbed onto one of the support beams next to the stairs.  Xiao was fighting something again, wasn't he?  You had felt the damned creep up on you as the day progressed, but nothing prepared you for the jarring pains that were too similar to the first time you had felt this side effect.  You nearly puked from the overwhelming sensation, coughing into your hand only for it to be splattered with blood.
Not again, you stared in horror as you hastily blinked away the splotches in your vision.  A quick glance around confirmed that there were children in the immediate vicinity, and you didn't want to scar them with the sight of you on what was supposed to be a happy night.  Your eyes flit to the distant building that housed the Northland Bank, and you were determined to make it there even if it was a bit too far for you to walk at the moment.
You stumbled through the crowd on unsteady feet and shallow breath until you bumped shoulders with a boy and tripped.  "Ngh!"  The impact worsened your dilemma, and your eyes caught those of the person you ran into.
"Sorry!  Wait, are you okay, ma'am?"  The white-haired boy retracted his outstretched hand and instead knelt at your side to offer his shoulder.  "You..."  This energy....could it be that I can finally...?
"U-um, excuse me."  You struggled to your feet and tried to make your way to the bank again.  This time you were immediately halted by the boy.  
"Ma'am, are you by any chance experiencing paranormal activity?"  His hard gaze made you hold your breath without realizing.  When he saw your eyes flash as if someone had held a lantern to your face, his grip on your shoulder loosened ever so slightly.  "My name's Chongyun.  I'm an exorcist.  Do you mind if we speak in private?"
He brought you to the docs, which were a little less crowded than the main area of the harbor.  Chongyun watched as you sat down and steadied your breathing while attempting to sneakily wipe away the blood that dripped from the corner of your mouth.  
I finally haven't scared them off, the boy thought as he stared at you in wonder.  Why now, though?  "Ma'am, can you tell me what's going on?"
"I-I appreciate your concern," you ground your teeth together while another wave of pain consumed you, "but I d-don't need your help."
"When did you start feeling this way?"  Chongyun sat with his legs crisscrossed in front of you, and summoned a deck of cards from his pocket.  Anger boiled as you watched him shuffle them in his hands and set them in the space between you one at a time.
"I wouldn't do that," you growled while your thoughts grew hazy.
"Don't worry, this won't hurt you."  He started mumbling some sort of incoherent verses before flipping one of the cards.
"I said DON'T!"
Chongyun caught your hand before it could swipe the cards away from the pier's surface, and he locked eyes with you.  He took a deep breath before speaking as if you were the one agitating him.  "Those are the evil spirits talking.  I can tell you're not that far gone.  Sit patiently, and I can help you."
You blinked for a moment and regained some control over yourself, relaxing your shoulders once he let go of your wrist.  "What is it you're trying to do?"
"Purge evil; it's my job.  We exorcists have protected Liyue for generations," he flipped another card over, noting your tension rising again before dying down.  Whatever he was doing with those cards seemed to piss off the voices in your head.
"Like adepti?"  You grimaced when he replaced one of the cards with another.  
"Yes, much like the Guardian Yaksha of Liyue," he replied calmly while testing your reaction with another card.  "I have much respect for him, but--"
"Xiao?  Have you seen him?"  Your hand burned when you grabbed his, but you ignored it once you caught his attention.  "Have you seen him recently?"  
"You know him by name?"  Chongyun was as confused as you were.  "That's odd, I thought we were the only ones who--"
"Hey!"  A high-pitched voice interrupted the conversation, and the two of you turned your heads toward the sound.  Paimon was flying towards you, Aether running right behind her.  "What are you doing here?! Are you okay? Did you escape? Did you kick Childe's butt?"
"I--" Aether stopped himself from hugging you when he saw the dried blood on your hand, his relieved smile fading into a concerned frown as his feet came to a halt.  "...Are you okay?"
"You know each other?"  Chongyun looked between the trio and summoned a new set of cards.  These ones held terrifying symbolism of demonic entities you didn't wish to know the name of, and he placed them over the other ones that sat on the ground.
"Ngh!"  A hand covered your eye in an attempt to put pressure against a sharp pain.  "You can't help me! Enough of this!"
"...W-what's wrong with her?"  Paimon trembled slightly when she heard the uncharacteristic aggressiveness in your voice.  "Is she...possessed?!"  
"Not quite," Chongyun returned his eyes to you in deep thought.  "I've never seen this before..."
"Wait, your positivity didn't scare them off?"  Aether suddenly looked a lot more concerned, and he moved so that he sat beside you.  Chongyun scared every spirit away...if that didn't happen this time, it must've been a bad sign.  "What happened to you in Snezhnaya?"  His voice was a mix of both guilt and anger.
"Zhongli didn't tell you?"  It took all your strength not to attack the three of them as Chongyun put another card down.  
"The group went their separate ways after you..." Aether shook his head and put a hand on your shoulder when he noticed the malice in your stare.  "What did Childe do to you?"
"It's just another side effect," you growled and pushed his hand off.  "I'm not possessed like this guy is saying."
"Is this true?" Paimon's skepticism antagonized you further, but you bit your tongue.
"We should take you to Zhongli," Aether pulled you to your feet without hearing your objections.  If your words were accurate, then there was no way the exorcist could help.  "Sorry, Chongyun!  She'll be fine!"
"W-Wait! Ah-"  Chongyun already lost them in the sea of people that were getting ready to release their lanterns.  It was almost time to fill the sky with the light of human prayers and wishes to the adepti.
Once out of Chongyun's vicinity, the voices dispersed as if nothing had happened.  "What the hell--"  Your confused grumblings caught the attention of Aether as he guided you through the crowd.  "This is so stupid."
"So you're able to feel Xiao's mental distress?"  He glanced back at you for a brief moment once he figured out what he had witnessed.  "At least now, he has someone that can understand a little bit of what he's going through, right?"
"I don't know," interjected Paimon.  "Didn't Zhongli say the yakshas fell one by one from karma?  Wouldn't feeling Xiao's karma kill you?"
"Probably."  Your uninterested answer brought both of them to look at you, only to find that your eyes were surveying the crowd with expectation--or was it hope?  Your companions exchanged knowing, but glum glances.
"He won't be here."
Aether's words went through one ear and out the other.  "Yes he will."
"Um...Paimon doesn't think so.  Xiao doesn't like crowds, remember?"  You were so different than a few months ago...Each sound seemed to startle you or make you wince, and you had a peculiar distant look in your eyes.  Your friends were growing more and more concerned about you.
Xiao, I'm here, you called out in your heart, not fully aware of it.
Coming up:  A long-awaited reunion.  The fears of a yaksha.  A display of trust.
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plant-flwrs · a year ago
Can I request a ilvermorny transfer x one of the twins? I think it'll be cool if she wore roller skates to school (charmed by yours truly) since it's the 90s and she's cool but super sweet and caring - maybe when they invite her over to the burrow for the summer or their birthday she can give them a pair? Thanks ily!!!
roller skates // fred weasley 
a/n: ok i always feel bad when my fics take so long to set up and theres barely any like actual romance and i am trying to work on it. i think its hard for me to go into a fic where a relationship is already established, so i like writing them coming together and the immersion of it. but i hate reading fics where it takes forever to get to the good parts so just know that i will be trying to work on that flaw in my writing! thanks so much for reading! (i made the reader from florida just because my mind blanked on any other places that don’t have snow lol, but it’s not really relevant in any other situations so ignore it if u please) also just realizing all of my summaries sound scary and ominous also just realizing how i say way too much in these author notes im so sorry bye
summary: The American transfer student draws attention to herself with her accent, but Fred is drawn to something else about her.
(10.4k hehe sorry :D)
Looking around at the students bustling past you, the only word you could think of was “proper”.
Looking down at your muggle clothes, loose and mismatched, your hair resting naturally, the only word you could think to describe yourself with was “improper”.
A boy with a permanent scowl and striking blond hair glanced your way, and the taller adults behind him followed his eye line. The three of them looked you up and down and their mouths all distorted into nasty grimaces. You felt your father’s comforting hand clasp over your shoulder, trying to help you remember everything he had said to you before arriving at King Cross Station.
“They aren’t that different from us,” he repeated, and you could tell he was doubting himself as he glanced at the uptight children and their matching parents.
He guided you forwards, and you pushed your large cart in front of you, navigating through the crowd. It started to separate around you, and even more odd glances were thrown your way. You supposed you should have felt a little insecure- you looked quite out of place- but the feeling could not overwhelm the excitement you felt. You had read all about Hogwarts, its history, its architecture, and you even picked up a few books about muggle London.
You were stood in your father's embrace, about to board. Your things were stored away, and you heard the train roaring louder and louder. You glanced around, the fathers in their dress shirts and ties, mothers in long skirts and blouses. Their children wore sweaters and jeans, or suit jackets and dress pants.
Something caught your eyes, though; a few feet away there was a large family, mingling in embraces. They all had flaming red hair, and their clothes looked like yours. In fact, your clothes resembled the oldest woman’s clothes, mismatched and colorful. Her eyes watered, and she smoothed down the hair on a fidgeting boy.
“Ronald, hold still!” she shouted at him, and he reluctantly allowed his mother to soothe his red hair down into a part on the side.
Once the woman had moved onto another child, Ronald roughed his hair back to the mess it was before. The woman now clutched a smaller boy, who looked like he was Ronald’s age, by the shoulders. She moved a hand to soothe his unruly hair off his forehead. Your eyes widened when you saw the lightning bolt on his forehead.
The books you had bought about the English Wizarding World did not neglect to mention the boy who lived. Elbowing your father, you both cast glances at the family. Your father nodded his head, looking impressed at the sight of Harry Potter.
“Thanks again Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, and it sounded like he had said it millions of times before.
Mrs. Weasley waved off the two boys, who went to gather a girl with large bushy hair.
“Come on ‘Mione! We’ve got to get a good compartment,” Ronald said impatiently, tugging the girl's arm onto the train.
Mrs. Weasley was left with four other children. One of them looked like all the other proper British people you had seen at the station, a permanent sneer on his face. He shook his head stiffly at his mother and shook his father’s hand. You thought it was quite odd, and two identical boys standing with the family couldn’t contain their laughter.
“Yes,” one of them started, doubling over in a bow, “good day, mother,” he said pompously, imitating his brother.
“May you have a wonderful few months,” the other started, moving to shake his father’s hand as his brother had moments ago, “I’ll be looking for your owl,” he said, sounding incredibly posh.
The younger girl, with the same fiery hair, began to giggle, earning a scowl from the eldest brother as he boarded the train.
The girl pulled her mother in for a hug, and then her father, and waved to them fervently as she followed after her brother.
“You boys, stay out of trouble!” Mrs. Weasley said to the remaining twins, waving a finger at them.
“We always do, mum,” one said, and it was obvious by his tone that they didn’t often stay out of trouble.
They waved to their parents at the same time, stepping onto the train with a certain enthusiasm.
You averted your gaze, looking anywhere but at the family you had been staring at. You looked up at your father, hugging him one last time. When you pulled back, you heard his name being called.
“Mr. Y/n?” the voice called out, approaching the two of you.
It was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley already had his hand stuck out to your father.
“I’m Arthur Weasley, I’ve been the one to hire you at the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry. This is my wife, Molly. Funny to meet you here,” he said politely, looking at you and your father in a nicer way than any other wizard had during your time at the station. His eyes didn’t wander down to your brightly colored shoes, or your patterned pants, and he didn’t even cast a second glance at your oversized, offensively colored sweater. You beamed at him.
“Oh! Yes, it’s great to meet you,” your father said, shaking his hand. He squeezed your shoulder, jostling you a bit, “This is my daughter, Y/n.”
“Oh, would you hear that accent, Arthur!” Molly gasped, smiling as if she was astonished. Your father chuckled at her reaction. You supposed it would happen to you a lot at Hogwarts.
They both smiled at you, and Arthur offered you his hand to shake. You held your hand out, but the sleeve of your sweater swallowed the limb. You shook the extra clothing away, and Molly chuckled. Finally shaking his hand, you held it out to Molly. She bypassed your hand and began to roll up the sleeves of your sweater.
“Thank you,” you said, and she nodded, accomplished, at you.
“Better get her going,” your father said, and the Weasleys nodded at you.
“Have a good term, dear,” Molly said to you, patting your shoulders the way she had done to Harry.
“Thank you,” you repeated, moving past them and heading onto the train.
You waved one last time at your father, and the door closed behind you.
You wandered down the isles, looking for an empty place to sit. You pretended to look like you knew where you were going, hoping fewer people would stare at you if you did. Your plan didn’t work, and you caught the eyes of almost everyone you passed.
You had made it to the end of the train, and your eyes peered into the last cabin. It was empty except for a girl and a boy. They seemed friendly enough, so you slid open the door.
“Mind if I sit with you guys?” you asked, and the boy looked at you quizzically when he heard your voice.
“Not at all,” the girl said.
She had strikingly blonde hair and gray eyes that poured deeply into you. She had a faint smile on her lips, and her head was cocked to the side.
“I’m Luna Lovegood,” she said, and her voice was light and airy, “This is Neville Longbottom.”
The boy shifted in his seat, casting a shy glance at you. He raised a shaky hand and gave you a curt wave.
You smiled widely at the two of them, glad you seemed to have picked the right place to sit.
The train ride went fast enough. Luna asked you all sorts of questions about America, and you asked her all sorts of questions about England. When Neville warmed up to you, he asked some questions about Ilvermorny. They asked what house you had been in there, and you told him you were a Thunderbird, the soul of the witch.
“Where do you reckon she’ll be sorted into here?” Neville asked Luna. You leaned forwards, curious for the answer.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, peering into a magazine she had balanced into her lap, “but if I’m lucky, it’ll be Ravenclaw.”
“Which one is Ravenclaw?” you asked, trying to remember what you had read.
“The wise and witty,” Luna said, moving her robes to show the crest on it. It was blue with a bird over it.
“A raven, clever,” you said, looking closer at Neville’s red-trimmed robes.
“You’d think,” he said, “but it’s an eagle. I’m a Gryffindor, we’re meant to be brave but,” he trailed off, and Luna placed a comforting hand on his arm.
“Oh, stop it, Neville,” she said gently, her gaze back onto you, “there's Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”
You nodded, recalling what little you read.
“My dad said he figured I would be a Hufflepuff. The Ministry told him he was a Ravenclaw, he had to do the silly sorting hat and everything,” you said, and Neville smiled at you.
“Hufflepuff? They’re quite nice, I suppose,” he said, sounding disappointed that you weren’t in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.
“Well, we won’t know for sure,” Luna said, closing her magazine, “until-” but the train’s brakes began to screech.
Her smiled widened, and you looked down at your robes you had changed into. Maybe now people would be less inclined to stare, you thought.
You were right, but only briefly. Once you had gotten to the Great Hall, you were shuffled in with the first years. Your face burned a slight red the whole time, your larger and older stature standing out amongst the sea of younger students. Your name was called, and you heard a faint whooping coming from the table of red.
You glanced at it, seeing Neville lowering a cheering fist from the air. He looked around nervously, and you saw one of the Weasley twins glancing at his quizzically. You smiled at Neville’s support and sat in the stool.
An old and tattered hat was lowered onto your head, and suddenly it began speaking in your ear.
“Hm, very interesting. You’re not from here, that’s obvious,” it spoke quickly, echoing in your skull, “but I think the choice is simple. I’d say,”
Suddenly the voice left your skull and boomed into the room, for everyone to hear.
Cheers from a table full of yellow sounded off, some raising from their seats and clapping for you. You beamed, moving off the stool and skipping cheerfully towards the table. You walked down the aisle between the red and yellow, and Neville’s hand stuck out at you.
“Congratulations!” he said excitedly, holding his hand up for a high five.
You hit his hand, and he waved you off.
A girl with a yellow tie and dark hair waved you over. She inched over, giving you room to sit with her.
“I’m Sarah, happy to have you in Hufflepuff!” she beamed, and you didn’t think you would ever get used to the British accents.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you watched her eyes widen at the sound of your voice, “I’m Y/n.”
“You’re American! You must have come from that American school, what’s it called, Ilmorny?” she asked, ducking her head and whispering as the sorting continued.
“Ilvemorny,” you corrected her, still smiling.
Sarah asked you a lot of the same questions Neville and Luna had asked, but you didn’t mind answering them. She had even offered to give you a tour of the school tomorrow, with the promise that you would choose the bed next to her’s in the dorm.
Sarah had lived up to her promise. You walked with your head permanently tilted upwards, admiring the greatness of the castle. Sarah ate with you at every meal and even insisted on walking you to your classes until you knew the way on your own. She had been so nice to you, and when Luna told you about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, you knew you had to ask her to go with you.
The two of you walked through the snow, wrapped up in matching yellow and black scarves. She had linked her arm with yours and pulled along to all her favorite shops.
The two of you ducked into The Three Broomsticks, sick of the ice sticking to your face.
You saw a red scarf and a blue scarf sitting at a table, and when you saw the flow of blonde hair peeking from the blue one, you knew who it was. You pulled Sarah over to Luna and Neville, and Neville told you to pull up two chairs. You introduced Sarah to Luna and Neville.
“We’re just waiting for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to meet us,” Neville said, smiling cheerfully.
“Oh, should we go?” you asked, offering to free up your chair.
“No, no, stay,” Luna urged you, pulling your arm back down, “I’ll introduce you.”
This was how you were going to meet Harry Potter, you thought, huddled up at a small table, drinking a foamy beverage that left a little white mustache on your upper lip.
Harry was just like every other kid, and he was with the people you had seen at the station that day.
“What did you say your last name was?” Ron asked, leaning over the table so you could hear him.
“Y/l/n,” you said.
“Does your dad work for the Ministry?” he asked, and you nodded, “Our dads work together!” he said, elbowing Harry.
“Her dad is the bloke my dad was raving about all summer, the guy from America,” Ron said to Harry, and Harry nodded at you.
“What a coincidence,” you said, dipping your head to take another sip of the drink Sarah had ordered you.
You all fell into a natural conversation, and Hermione asked to switch seats with Sarah at one point. Sarah had no protests, filing easily into the seat next to Harry, glancing at him dreamily.
“Will you tell me about America? I’ve been to other parts of Europe for holidays, but never America. What’s it like? How different are the wizards?" Hermione sounded off questions like she had them rehearsed, but you were happy to answer them.
You and she were in a fit of laughter after she had told you about her parents’ reaction to her letter. Your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, as Hermione recounted her mother’s jumping up and down.
You were so involved with your conversation with Hermione, you hadn’t noticed Ron’s brothers come into the restaurant.
“Hello, Ickle Ronniekins,” one of them teased, messing a hand through Ron’s overgrown hair, “when are you gettin’ a hair cut?”
“Mum’s gonna cut it all off the second you get home,” the other said, pulling a chair in between Luna and Ron. The other pulled a chair in between Harry and Sarah, and you didn’t miss Sarah’s annoyed sigh at the interruption.
You and Hermione were recovering from your laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing heavily.
“What’s so funny ladies?” one of them said, shoving Ron aside so he could rest his elbows on the table.
“Just telling Y/n about how my parents reacted to my letter from Hogwarts,” Hermione sighed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.
“You’re the famous Y/n?”
“The American?”
Ron elbowed each of his brothers in their sides, frowning at them.
“That’s me,” you answered cheerfully, smiling at them, “Are you Ron’s brothers?”
“More like,” one of them started.
“Best friends,” the other finished.
“He really would be nowhere if it weren’t for us,” they said at the same time.
A smile slid across your face; it was easy to smile around your new friends, you found.
Hogwarts was better than you could have ever hoped. You wrote to your father nearly every week, recounting the amazing things you had done with Sarah, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The seven of you were becoming inseparable.
Luna’s blue tie dangled over your face as you lay on her lap, she was trying this odd head charm she had read about in the Quibbler. Your head rested in between her legs, back on the ground. Her skinny fingers were pressed to your temple, and they hesitantly pressed into your skin.
“Is that right?” she asked, consulting the cartoon pictures that moved on the Quibbler laying next to her.
“I don’t reckon, it doesn’t feel like anything’s happening,” you said, sitting up and rubbing where Luna’s fingers had been.
“Neville,” Luna said, motioning him over. His face grew white as she pulled him into him, moving to where you had been. Luna’s fingers pressed against Neville’s head, and his eyes fluttered closed. Luna began to hum to herself, and Neville smiled.
You crawled over to sit by Ron under the tree. Sarah was talking to Harry, her eyes dazed over as he gently brushed off a leaf that had fallen on her shoulder. Hermione was near, her head resting on her bag, laying on her back with his legs crossed. She was deep into a muggle book you recognized, and you couldn’t blame her for not wanting to put it down.
“Hi, Ron,” you snapped him out of his thoughts, ending his obvious staring at Hermione, “enjoying the weather?”
“Yeah, it’s just about my favorite time of year,” he said, twisting a blade of grass in his fingers.
The snow had melted, winter break had ended. Ron was able to shed his mother's heavy knitted sweaters and wear some of his more comfortable shirts.
“I quite liked the winter,” you said, your head leaning against the tree, “it was my first time seeing snow.”
“Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell us that?” Ron asked, seeming bewildered.
“Don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling at him.
“Hermione! Oi, Hermione! Y/n had never seen snow before she came here,” Ron said, calling out to Hermione.
“I know, she’s from Florida,” Hermione said, uninterested, head still buried in her book.
“Florida? Why didn’t I know that?” Ron asked, feeling out of the loop.
“Don’t know,” you repeated, shrugging again.
“Because you don’t ask, Ron,” Hermione said, sounding unpleased with Ron’s loud volume.
You stifled a laugh, but Ron looked at you, feeling guilty.
“Hermione’s right, I guess,” Ron said, casting a sad glance at you.
“It’s alight, Ron, I won’t hold it against you,” you reassured, and Ron perked up a little.
“Tell me one thing no one else here knows about you,” Ron said urgently. To this, Hermione closed her book and lay it on her chest, interested in what you were going to say.
You thought about it. You didn’t have anything to hide from your friends, but you felt yourself blanking on even the littlest fact about yourself. You tried to think of any special abilities you had, besides being a wizard, or any life events that were significant. The only thing you thought of was the hesitance you had when packing your trunk for school, debating on whether or not to bring your roller skates with you. Ilvermorny had allowed them, and you skated to nearly all your classes. The school's cold granite floors were just begging to be skated across, you had thought, and it was ten times faster than walking.
You thought about your skates, you missed them more than you thought you would. The white boots with slick, black wheels and rainbow laces were one of your most prized possessions. You wondered now, again, if you would have gotten in trouble for bringing your roller skates to school.
“Oh, alright, I’ve thought of something,” you began, and Hermione sat up a little, resting on her elbows.
“I really like to roller skate,” you said proudly.
“Roller skate?” Hermione and Ron repeated at the same time. Ron sounded confused, but Hermione sounded entertained.
“Like from the 80′s?” Hermione asked, still sounding entertained.
“They’re making a comeback,” you defended.
“What’s roller skate?” Ron asked, looking between you and Hermione.
“It’s like shoes with wheels on them,” Hermione said, used to having to explain muggle inventions her friend, “You tie them up and you skate around.”
“What do you do that for? Do they go really fast?” Ron asked.
“They can,” you said, “but it’s really just for fun. I used to take them with me to Ilvermorny and go to my classes on them, but I didn't know if Hogwarts allowed them.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Ron asked, “Are they dangerous?”
“They're not dangerous, I suppose you could fall on them, but it’s not as bad as that Quidditch game you guys play,” you explained, “I just didn’t know if Hogwarts allowed those kinds of muggle things.”
Ron and Hermione nodded, and Hermione looked to be in deep thought.
“I’m sure they would,” she said, returning back to her book.
“What do you reckon they’re doing down there?” Fred asked, looming over George’s shoulder as he held the Marauder’s Map in his hands.
“Do you think Ron’s finally gonna get a girlfriend?” George teased, looking at you and Ron sitting together under the tree.
Fred sneered at his brother. Ever since he had told George he thought you were cute, it seemed George wanted to push his buttons any way he could. He would make jokes about you and Ron flirting, and for some reason it made his blood boil. He hadn’t even spoken to you on more instances than he could count on a hand, but he was enticed by you.
Your eyes were always moving, and they were always wide with excitement. He thought you were beautiful, you were always wearing your muggle clothes when you didn’t have to wear your uniform. You dressed kind of like his mum, he realized one day, but in a cooler way. That’s the word, cool, he thought you were cool. You fit in easily with Ron’s friends, you could talk about anything, and you were always so sweet.
“Where are they going now?” George wondered out loud, watching the names on the map begin to move.
You got up and dusted off your pants, feeling the baggy jean material under your fingers. You helped Ron up, offering him a hand and pulling him off the ground. You, Ron, and Hermione trailed after Harry and Sarah, who trailed after Neville and Luna. You had all been feeling a bit warm outside, so you decided to go to the Gryffindor common room for the rest of the afternoon. You and Sarah were always excited to go to the Gryffindor common room, feeling it was a nice change from yours in the basement.
Fred’s eyes watched as you, Ron, and Hermione walked together towards the Gryffindor common room. He suddenly felt nervous, even though he was up in his dorm with George. He stood, and looked at himself in the mirror. He pulled down at the bottom of his shirt, tugging uncomfortably at the way it clung to his arms. He hadn’t been dressed to impress, and he usually didn’t, but at the sight of your name getting closer to his on the map, he ignored George’s torments and changed into nicer pants and a more flattering shirt.
Harry stepped passed Neville, who had forgotten the password, and held open the portrait for everyone as they stepped through. You, Sarah, Luna, and Hermione occupied the biggest couch in front of the fire, and Neville and Ron took the armchairs on either side of you. Harry sat on the floor in between Ron’s chair and where Sarah had sunk into the corner of the couch.
Sarah beamed at you, taking notice of the small action, and you wiggled your eyebrows back at her. She blushed and leaned over the side of the couch, resting her chin in her hand and starting a conversation with Harry.
Hermione pulled her book from her bag again, reading the pages eagerly. You and Luna sat shoulder to shoulder as Luna began to tell you about her plans for the summer.
“I think I’ll try to learn French,” she said, toying with some sunglasses she pulled from her pocket.
“You’re going to learn French?” you repeated, a smile pulling up your lips.
“I think so, might also help my dad with his plums,” Luna said, turning to you as she slipped on the sunglasses. They overcame her face, entirely oversized and wonderful. They were bright green and had purple lenses that were reflective. You could see your wide and amused smile in them.
“Your father grows plums?” you inquired, always enjoying conversation with Luna.
“Yes, they’re Dirigible Plums.”
“What are those?”
Luna pulled her hair back and showed you a pair of earrings she wore. They looked like little orange balloons, but leaves hung from them.
“Oh, those are very pretty, Luna,” you said, admiring them.
“My dad says they make you wiser,” she explained, “so he grows them in his garden.”
“And you wear them as earrings,” you said, smiling at her.
“Yes,” she nodded and gave you a crooked grin.
“What are your plans for the summer?” Luna asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. My father will be working, so I’ll probably be home all day,” you said, feeling a little lonely already, “I’ll have my roller skates though.”
Luna looked at you, confused, but you were more talking to Ron anyways, who you noticed was listening to your conversation.
“You should come to the Burrow this summer! Everyone does, even for just for a week,” Ron said, standing and moving over to sit on the coffee table in front of you.
“That sounds cool, I’d love to,” you said, grinning at Ron.
You looked around you and felt so lucky, lucky to have found such kind and accepting people at your new school.
Pacing upstairs, Fred smoothed down his hair before ruffling it again and then smoothing it. He knew you were downstairs, and he knew he wanted to talk to you, but you just made him so nervous. He never gets nervous.
George sat with his elbows on his knees, eyebrows raised, watching his brother obviously losing his mind.
“Just go down and talk to her,” he said, a little afraid his brother might explode, “you’re gonna wear a hole in the ground.”
Fred stopped where he stood, near the door. He sighed heavily and nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard, “I’ll just go talk to her.”
Fred recalled the day he had formally met you at the Three Broomsticks. He was smooth, able to mask the way your curious gaze had made his stomach flutter. He couldn’t very well go down there and make a fool of himself, could he?
“Oi Fred!” he heard Lee call from where he stood near Harry, which was also near you, “Come over here a minute.”
Fred sauntered over, forcing himself not to stare at you.
Hermione had put down her book, and Luna had left to go to her own common room to do some homework. You and Hermione sat cross-legged facing each other, playing a muggle card game.
“Yeah?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning against the banister of the fireplace.
Harry and Lee sat at two wooden chairs near the fireplace, only a few feet away from the couch you were on. This angle allowed him to watch you as your head threw back in laughter as Hermione scowled at her losing the game. His eyes easily flickered back to Lee, who pulled him into the conversation he and Harry were having about Quidditch.
Ginny walked through the portrait hole, returning from some Quidditch training she had been doing. Ginny was taking Quidditch very seriously this year and had taken to exercising on the pitch with Angelina every weekend.
“Ginny!” Ron called out to her, putting down the newspaper he was reading. He waved her over with a hurried hand.
“What?” she said, plopping down on the empty space next to Hermione, “What game are you guys playing?”
You looked up from the deck of cards you had begun to shuffle as Hermione told her.
“Ginny,” Ron said again, pulling his sister’s attention back to him.
“Hm?” she said, and it was very obvious she was tired from her day's activities.
“Have you asked anyone over for the summer yet?” Ron asked, and his eyes flicked to you, “I just invited Y/n, so I don’t want it getting too crowded.”
Ginny looked over to you, her gaze becoming analytical. You raised a hand to wave and cast her a kind smile, and she returned it.
“I don’t have anything planned, it should be fine,” Ginny turned away from Ron and back towards you and Hermione, “When are you lot coming? At the same time?”
You looked towards Hermione, not knowing the answer.
“Oh, I didn’t have any specific ideas yet, Ron’s just asked me. Still have to write to my dad,” you said, and Hermione nodded.
“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be the usual time for me, though,” Hermione said, and Ginny smiled.
“What’s the usual time?” you asked, beginning to deal the cards to you and Hermione.
“A few weeks before school starts, Mrs. Weasley takes us all to Diagon Alley for our school things,” Hermione said, speaking fondly of the memory.
“Should I ask my dad to come then, when Hermione does?” you looked towards Ron, “Unless I should come at a different time,” you said, not trying to intrude.
“That would be perfect! Harry comes ‘round that time too, so we’ll all see each other,” Ron said.
He looked over at Harry, and upon seeing his brother, he called Fred over the way he had done to Ginny.
“Fred, have you invited anyone home for summer yet?”
Fred’s gaze immediately went to you, and he found you looking at him too.
“Yeah,” he said, pushing himself off the wall and over to Ron.
“Who?” Ron said, curious because his brothers usually didn’t have people over to the Burrow during holidays.
“George,” he said, smirking.
“Git,” Ron mumbled under his breath.
“Why do you ask, Ickle Ronniekins?”
“I just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t get too crowded when Hermione, Harry, and Y/n come ‘round,” Ron said, squirming as Fred forced himself into Ron’s seat that was only big enough for one of them.
Fred’s cool demeanor dropped for a moment, his eyes widening. He quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around Ron.
“How considerate of you,” he said, giving his brother an unwanted side hug.
Ron got up from his seat, leaving Fred to sit by himself. He watched you with unblinking eyes as you listened to Ginny talk about her time with Angelina on the pitch.
Looking down at your packed to the brim suitcase, you glance to the corner of your room. Your pristine roller skates sat there, one on their side. They looked sad and forgotten, but you knew that wasn’t true. Ever since you had gotten home from Hogwarts, you had taken to skating around ‘muggle’ London. You had also just gotten used to saying ‘muggle’.
Your father left early and got home late, and part of you was jealous that he got to see a Weasley every day and you didn’t. To ease your envy, you took to your skates.
You weren’t sure if you should pack them with you for Ron’s house. You were leaving when your father got home for work, the two of you setting off just before dark. You shoved a sweater deeper into your bag, making room for the skates.
Your father was to eat dinner with the Weasleys, sleep on the couch, and set off with Mr. Weasley for work in the morning. No point in two trips, they figured.
You were traveling by Flu powder, and your father went first. He heaved your bag into the fireplace with him and erupted in green flames. You carried a backpack on your shoulder, filled with little things that couldn’t fit in your suitcase.
Fred was more nervous and excited than he had ever felt in his whole life. He was determined to chat you up this summer, at least do something to make sure you knew he existed. He had been pacing in he and George’s shared room, but George pulled him down to the kitchen and made him drink some tea, hoping to calm him down.
You twisted your fingers, looking nervously into the fireplace. You were extremely excited to spend the remaining weeks of your summer with the Weasleys, but a small part of you was scared. You were nervous that Ron’s parents wouldn’t like you as much as they did at the train station. You were nervous that Ron, and his siblings, would get sick of having you around. You were nervous that you would become a burden.
You had been writing with Hermione, and she ensured you of how kind the Weasleys were. She told you that you had nothing to worry about, and you felt a little relieved.
You had visited Sarah a couple of times during the summer. She lived fairly close, close enough for you to take muggle transportation. Her family was welcoming and all had wide eyes at your accent. Thinking of their kindness, you felt confident enough to finally step into the fireplace.
Green flames surrounded you, and within seconds, you were stood in a different fireplace. It was a little shorter, and you were glad you had hunched over a little. Mr. Weasley and your father were shaking hands off to the side, over by a large couch. Mrs. Weasley was looking into the fireplace and waving you out. Ron was trudging your suitcase upstairs already, and Hermione and Ginny stood by Mrs. Weasley smiling widely. You noticed Fred and George sat at a large wooden table near the kitchen both drinking some tea and eating.
You took a step from the fireplace, making sure to wipe off any ash that may have stained your clothes, and allowed Mrs. Weasley to pull you into a hug.
“Oh, so good to see you again, dear!” she said, rocking you back and forth in the suffocating hug.
You didn’t care if you couldn’t breathe, you decided at that moment that Molly Weasley gave the absolute best hugs. She released you, patting your shoulders and running a loving hand through your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You beamed at her, and she smiled back at you.
When she moved away, Hermione quickly replaced her. Hermione’s arms pulled you close, wrapping around your backpack.
“I missed you!” she said, smiling at you.
“I missed you too!” you said, nearly ‘awing’ at everyone’s kindness.
Ginny hugged you too, and when you stepped away, Ron had come back downstairs. You hugged him, and then Harry, and finally you were left to be able to breathe your own air.
The house around you was adorable. It was better than you could have ever imagined. Magic was everywhere, and everything just felt like home.
“You’ll be staying with me and Ginny,” Hermione said to you from her spot next to you at the table.
“Perfect,” you replied, the same awestruck smile plastered on your face since you had arrived.
Fred looked at you from across the table. He felt like his dinner was moving in his stomach, and his hands were sweating. He’d nearly dropped his fork three times. He breathed deep, and when the conversation lulled, he took his chance.
“How has your summer been, Y/n?” he asked, and you looked up from your plate to him.
He nearly died, your happy eyes looking at him.
“Great!” you said, wiping your hands on your napkin in your lap, “I’m glad to finally be here.”
He smiled back at you, and it took him a moment to realize he’d been staring for a little too long, and that you had asked him a question.
“My summer? Oh, my summer’s been good too,” he replied, nodding.
You looked to George, who was next to him and raised your eyebrows, inviting his answer.
“It’s been good,” he said casually, and then an evil grin spread across his face, “but I think Fred’s just about worn my ear off talking about you.”
Fred coughed, choking on his mashed potatoes. His face went red, and he looked at his twin with an anger George had never seen before. Fred quickly looked back at you, as if to gauge your reaction. Your head was tilted down, but a shy smile was on your face and a blush crept on your cheeks.
Fred’s anger subsided at the sight of it, but when George kicked him from under the table, he was reminded.
“What is wrong with you?” Fred asked, nearly yelling at his brother in the privacy of their own room.
“I gave you a push,” George answered, not looking up from the Zonko’s catalog in his hands.
Fred simmered, coming to the realization that George was right. He fell onto his bed, thinking back to the pink on your cheeks and the bashful curl of your lips.
He didn’t know how he was meant to sleep, painfully aware of the fact that you were asleep just a room away.
“Did you hear what George said to Y/n at dinner?” Hermione asked, pulling Ginny into the argument you were having once she got out of the shower.
Ginny shook her head, removing the towel from her hair, “No, what’d he say?”
You rolled your eyes at Hermione as she divulged into every little detail of what George had said.
“And Fred could not stop staring!” she finished, and you let out an exaggerated breath.
“He was not staring!”
“Yes, he was,” Ginny said cheekily, sitting down on her bed.
“Ginny!” you said, giving up hope of having her on your side.
“He totally fancies you,” Hermione said.
Your face twisted for two reasons: the word ‘fancies’, and the fact that she thought Fred Weasley might fancy you.
“He does not!”
Ginny sat on her bed, listening to you and Hermione go back and forth. She knew Fred fancied you, he had since they had been at school. She saw his longing looks, the way he looked at you first after he told a joke, and the pure admiration he had in his eyes any time he looked at you. It especially convinced her when Fred had been talking about you all summer. She came to a decision.
“He does,” she said, watching Hermione’s face change into the proud one she wore when she answered a question right in class. Your mouth hung open.
“What?” Hermione’s gaze turned towards you, and she smiled widely. You liked to think it was her infectious smile that made your mouth turn up, and not the idea of Fred liking you.
“He has been talking about you all summer, I’m surprised Ron didn’t tell you earlier,” Ginny said, bringing the towel to her hair again to catch some dripping water.
“He probably hasn’t even noticed,” Hermione said, the tone of annoyance dripping off her tongue.
Ginny flashed her a sympathetic look, but Hermione ignored it, continuing.
“Do you like him?” she pried, and the whole room felt like it was frozen.
They both looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.
You didn’t know. Fred was handsome, and funny, and clever, but you hardly knew him. You knew he was mischievous, and that he tormented Ron, but other than that you might as well have been strangers. You could not deny, however, that he was attractive.
“I don’t know,” you said, honestly.
“You don’t know?” Ginny repeated, confused.
“Yeah, I mean, I barely know him,” you answered, the obvious energy in the room shifting to something of deep thought.
“Do you fancy him, though?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.
“I think he’s cute, yeah, but how can he fancy me? We’ve barely spoken to each other. Are you sure Ginny?” you asked again, still doubtful.
“I’m sure he’s noticed the little things more than you think he would, Fred can be pretty considerate when he wants to be,” Ginny said, and you breathed out loudly. You flopped on your back, the mound of blankets around you and Hermione soothing your landing.
“See? I wouldn’t know that!” you said.
You knew it was a little silly, to focus on something like this. You had an older, attractive, popular boy head over heels for you, but you were harping on the fact that you didn’t know whether or not he was considerate.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Hermione said harshly, “I mean it’s not like you’re forced to marry him. You go on dates with people to get to know them, after all.”
You were nearly offended by Hermione’s tone, but you figured she was just getting irritated on the subject of crushes.
“I know, ‘Mione, I’m just confused by it,” you reassured her.
“Well, test the waters tomorrow,” Ginny said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.
You cringed away from her, and swells of giggles were coming from Ginny’s room nearly all night.
The three of you slept late into the morning. The Burrow’s eventful noises were nothing compared to the sounds of muggle London, so you slept peacefully. It wasn’t until something began tapping on Ginny’s window, did the three of you wake up.
“What the-?” Ginny started but soon fell silent at the sound of a loud crashing noise. Shards of glass scattered around the room and Hermione was lucky that she had rolled away from the window in her sleep. You put your hand up, flinching at the noise, and when you dropped it, the warm summer air flooded into the room.
A small golden snitch was soaring around the room, averting every swipe of Ginny’s hands, and ducking behind her dresser.
Ginny slipped on some shoes, and carefully navigated through the glass. She leaned cautiously out of the window, and that's when the screaming started.
“Harry! Are you mental?! What on Earth-” her screams divulged into threats and insults, and you looked over her shoulder, watching Harry hover many feet away on his broom, his face looking quite guilty.
You found your shoes and moved over to the window. You then realized that Fred and George were hovering closer to Ginny’s window, silencing the snickers and amazed faces they wore. At the sight of Fred, your eyes widened, and his eyes met yours. He smiled kindly at you, and before you knew what you were doing, you ducked behind the window, crouching by Ginny’s feet.
You heard George’s laughter, and Ginny’s ramblings stilled.
“What are you doing on the floor?” she asked you, lowering herself to crouch with you.
“I don’t know,” you answered, whispering. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were wide. Ginny’s threatening look turned into a smile.
She began to giggle, and soon enough, Fred and George hovered just above the window, peering into Ginny’s room.
“What are you girls doing down there?” George asked, resting a hand on the part of the windowsill with no glass on it, peering into the room.
Ginny looked at you, her smile wide. You looked around and began to pick up large shards of glass.
“Cleaning up the glass,” you said casually, although you could still feel the distinct burn of blush on your cheeks.
You could only safely pick up two large shards of glass without cutting your hands, so you raised yourself from the ground, meeting Fred and George’s eyes. Ginny followed you, crossing her arms and smirking.
The boys wore their practice robes, their names and numbers on the backs. They both had discarded goggles hanging from their necks, and their hair was wild. You looked between the both of them, swallowing thickly.
“Could you keep it down?” Ginny finally said, trying to ease the situation, “We’re trying to sleep.”
George removed a hand from his broom and glanced at his watch, “It’s nearly 12 in the afternoon,” he said sarcastically.
“Really? Well, we need our beauty sleep,” Ginny said, and you noticed she nearly reached out to close the window.
George rolled his eyes and zipped away on his broom, leaving Fred.
“I’m gonna go get a broom, clean this up,” Ginny said, huffing as she navigated her way back through the glass on the floor.
You and Fred were left there, staring at anything but each other. Fred moved slightly up and down on his broom as he hovered. He finally cleared his throat and looked at you.
“Sleep well?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
You nodded and smiled, rocking back and forth on your feet, “You?”
He nodded too and looked away quickly.
“Oh, I think George, is calling me,” he said, and it was obvious George was not calling him. He flew away on his broom, and you closed your eyes, letting out a restrained breath.
You groaned and threw yourself on Ginny’s bed. Hermione rolled over, a large and entertained grin on her face. You covered your face with a pillow and ignored Ginny and Hermione’s imitations of the incident while they swept up the glass.
Mrs. Weasley was furious to see Ginny’s window. She had come in later in the day, a basket full of laundry on her hip.
“Hello girls,” she said pleasantly, “Do you have- what the bloody hell is that?”
Ginny’s eyes widened at the sound of her mother’s deep and serious tone.
“Mum! It wasn’t us,” Ginny leaped from her bed and ran to her dresser, she quickly caught the snitch from where it had been hiding behind her dresser, “It came through the window this morning when the boys were playing.”
Mrs. Weasley looked at you and Hermione, and you both nodded your heads furiously. She huffed out a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.
Finally looking up, she set the laundry down and stood in Ginny’s doorway.
“BOYS!” she shouted, and you heard the sudden halting of George and Fred’s laughter, and Harry and Ron’s footsteps upstairs silenced.
The sound of four hesitant feet walking to Ginny’s room was the last thing you heard before Mrs. Weasley’s screams burst your eardrums.
The Burrow was crowded now that the boys had been banned from leaving the house. They had only briefly been allowed out of the house to de-gnome the garden, but Mrs. Weasley stood at the door, making sure they had absolutely no fun.
Your suitcase lay open in Ginny’s room, the three of you dressed and having absolutely no ideas as to what to do. You had all already ran through your spending money going to Diagon Alley on your first days there, and without the boys offering some entertainment, the three of you were idle.
Ginny paced, looking through her own things with interest. She twisted her broom in her hands, offering the idea of Quidditch, but Hermione wasn’t interested. Ginny was scanning her room, and her eyes fell on your bag. A pair of white shoes with wheels on them lay tucked away in the bag. She walked over to them and pulled them out hesitantly.
“What the bloody hell are those?” George said from the doorway.
The three of you girls turned, looking to the door. The four boys crowded in the hall, all peering into the room with interest. It seemed they were bored too.
“Are those the roll skates?” Ron asked, mispronouncing the word and shoving past George and taking the roller skate from Ginny.
“Yeah,” you said, your eyes flicking up over the top of your magazine.
The rest of the boys filed into the tiny room, nearly all of them shoulder to shoulder. Hermione rose from her spot next to you, picking up the other one from your bag.
“I remember seeing commercials for these things when I was a kid,” Hermione said, spinning the wheel in her hand.
“Commercials? What are you on about?” Ron said, and Harry caught your baffled look and smiled.
“What are they?” Fred asked, taking Hermione’s seat next to you on Ginny’s bed.
You lowered your magazine and looked at him, only to find him already looking at you. He gave you a crooked smile and nodded in greeting. You successfully fought a blush and smiled back at him.
“They’re roller skates. They’re like shoes with wheels,” you explained, taking the skate from Ron.
You rolled up your jeans a little and slipped on the skate. Fred watched your delicate fingers lacing up the shoe, noticing the way your hair fell into your face as you looked down at them.
Hermione handed you the other one, and you did the same to the other foot. You stood easily from the bed and nearly lost your balance. It was lucky that Fred’s strong shoulder was there for your hand to clasp onto, or else your feet would have slipped from under you.
You looked down at your hand still on Fred’s shoulder, even though you were standing fine. He slipped your hand off but kept it in his hand. You then became aware that you were just holding hands at this point. He stood with you and turned to face you. He pulled your other hand into his, and pushed you away from him, smiling widely as you rolled easily on the hardwood floors.
Everyone knew then that they had found their entertainment for the day.
The sound of joyful laughter flooded your ears as Fred pulled you around the limited space in Ginny’s room. Your hands fit together perfectly, and he walked backward as he pulled you, keeping his smiling eyes on you the whole time. Soon he was pulling you into the hallway, and everyone trailed after. You felt Ginny’s small hands pushing your back, and you began to gain speed. Fred hadn’t caught up, and you were coming closer and closer to him. You looked down but didn’t want to put your toes down to brake, in fear of scuffing up the floor. So, you let yourself fall into Fred’s arms.
The two of you stayed upright, but his long arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands fell to his chest, and his chin pressed against his neck as he looked down at you. His hair fell into his eyes, and yours fell gracefully in its natural place. You smiled, and he smiled, and soon you erupted into giggles at the silence behind you. George catcalled, and you stuffed your giggles into Fred’s chest, tucking your head under his chin. You felt him take a sharp inhale, and his arms became a little tighter around you.
When Mr. Weasley got home, he was accosted by his children.
“Dad!” They said in unison, all waiting for him by the door.
He jumped at the sight of them all, then began taking off his coat.
“Look at these!” Ginny said, pointing to your feet.
You did a little spin, careful not to make any marks on the floor. Fred watched you spin elegantly, your arms coming out a little like a ballerina.
“Remarkable!” Mr. Wealsey cried, moving to look at them.
Questions came from his mouth faster then you could answer them, and you slid the wheels against the floor under the table while you ate dinner.
“We had an idea, Dad,” Fred said, looking at you proudly.
“Yeah, think you’ll like it,” George added, glancing at you with a smirk and then looking back at his dad.
“We need you to conjure some sort of track outside,” Ron finished, talking with his mouth full.
“A track! That’s brilliant!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed, missing the worried look from his wife.
“It was Y/n’s idea, she’s brilliant,” Fred said, looking across the table at you.
You giggled as George made a gagging noise.
“With what? Stone?” Mrs. Weasley inquired, placing a hand on her hip.
“Oh no, they’re usually made of wood or asphalt,” you explained, “they have a whole building of them in the muggle world. People rent the skates and pay to skate on a big rink.”
Mr. Weasley's eyes widened with excitement, and Mrs. Weasley’s worry tamed.
“Let’s do it tonight.”
The eight of you walked to a clearing on the side of the house. It was where the boys usually played Quidditch, but it hadn’t been in use for days. Mrs. Weasley hadn’t stopped the boys from helping with the track, and you were grateful.
“Hold it higher, Ron!” Mr. Weasley called out, and Ron raised his father's wand with a bright orb of light coming from it.
The track was nearly done. It was huge, a large hoop secured to the ground. There was an enchanted orb of light in the center of the circle, and it illuminated the entire rink.
Your friends watched you blaze around the track, your hair whipping around behind your face, the sides of your cardigan flapping in the wind. You heard loud cheers when you successfully began skating backward.
The rest of your trip to The Burrow was spent out there. The boys were lifted from their punishments, and the rink became the one place you all went to when you woke up, and the last place you were before bed. Soon enough, though, your father appeared in the fireplace with your school trunk by his side. He quickly took back the bag you had been keeping at the Weasley's, and you went through your trunk one last time, making sure you had everything.
This year, walking through the train station, you were still stared at. But you didn’t care because an entire family surrounding you, and they all looked like you.
Your father gave you a lasting embrace before Fred followed you onto the train. He had waited for you, watching as you hugged your dad. He waved to your father, and his hand grazed your lower back as he walked behind you. The two of you found the compartment that had to be the most crowded of the lot.
Lee, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Sarah, George, and now you and Fred, packed into a compartment, the entire room filled with busy conversation the entire ride.
It was weird to be in the Hufflepuff common room, your bedroom devoid of Ginny’s huffs as she rolled over to get comfortable, or Hermione’s anxious mumbles she said in her sleep. You pulled your blankets off of you, your legs feeling sore from the constant skating you had been doing for weeks.
Speaking of, you had made the decision to bring your skates to Hogwarts. You slipped them on, tightening the rainbow laces. You pointed your wand at the wheels and cast a silencing charm, so the turn of the wheels would be silent.
You carefully climbed the stairs from the Hufflepuff basement and looked both ways before you skated towards your destination.
Fred had been sitting under his covers, looking over the map as he usually did before he snuck to the kitchens. Out of habit, he looked at the Hufflepuff common room for your familiar name. He was shocked to see you across the castle, in a long-abandoned classroom. He suddenly lost his appetite and slid into some slippers.
He rested his forearm in the crook of the door, leaning against it. He watched you illuminated by the candles lit on the wall. You easily glided between the desks, twisting and turning, spinning, and navigating between them. His eyes followed you, your body moving naturally. He watched the sway of your hips as your wait transferred from foot to foot, the skates rolling against the smooth stone. You moved to the open space in the room, skating backward, your back to him. You turned just a few feet in front of him, and when you saw Fred, your surprise ran through your body. Your feet faltered and you bumped into a desk, making a loud crash.
He jumped from his spot in the doorway, closing the door behind him. He moved to you in two long strides, crouching to reach you on the floor.
“Are you alright?”
“You scared the shit out of me, Fred!” you said, smiling up at him.
“Couldn’t help it, I had to come see you,” he said smoothly, bringing the map from his back pocket.
“What? How did you know I was here?”
He unfolded a piece of paper and held it out to you. You took it in your hands and realized what it was. Before you could look at it for long, Fred took it back, a worried expression on his face.
“Filch is coming, he must have heard the noise,” Fred folded the map and put it back in his pocket.
Suddenly, his hands were on your waist, and he was guiding you to your feet. He looked around the room and saw the door to the supply closet.
With a wave of his wand, the flames of the candles were extinguished and he was pulling your gliding figure to the closet. The door closed just in time, and Filch burst in. You and Fred were pressed together, his hands still on your waist. You opened your mouth to ask him about the map, and one of his hands covered your mouth. He felt your soft lips, and his eyes locked onto yours. You heard Filch’s heavy feet stomping around the room and the screech of the desk against the floor.
Your mind was occupied by the lack of space between you, your back pressed to the door, and Fred’s warm hand on your face. He looked deeply at you, and his face was inches from yours.
You thought back to the day Ginny told you about how Fred felt, and you realized that you no longer had any hesitations about Fred. Standing this close to him, his leg slid between yours, his chest against yours, you felt what he felt. You fancied Fred.
Fred felt your lips curl into a smile beneath his hand. It was dark, so he couldn’t see your face, but he wished more than anything that he could. He heard the door close, and Filch was gone, but neither of you moved. Fred’s hand retracted from your mouth, moving to your neck. His fingers slipped under your hair, and his thumb rested in your jaw.
“Why did you come here?” you whispered.
“I like to watch you skate,” he answered, his voice devoid of any laughter.
“You’ve watched me skate for weeks,” you said quickly, inching your face closer to his, craning your neck to look up at him.
“I like to watch you,” he said without thinking, “I like you.”
You closed the space between you two. His lips were slow, and so were yours. You arched your back against the door, anything to get closer to him. His face was warm, and yours was cold. His lips pressed hard against yours, and the kiss held everything he had felt since he talked to you in the Three Broomsticks. It was all the nights he had ranted to George about you, all the times he had mentioned what little time it was until you’d finally be at The Burrow, all the times he looked at the map just to see your name, all the times his stomach had flipped just at the thought of you.
You pulled away, breathless, and he lowered his head to rest on your shoulder. His breathing was heavy, and your eyes had fluttered closed. He reached for his wand and said “Lumos,” just so he could see your pretty face and swollen lips.
He walked you back to the basement, and you shared another slow kiss. He had almost followed you down the stairs, watching you leave with your skates hanging from around your neck.
The next morning in the courtyard, Ginny was the first to notice.
“What happened?” she said, skeptical of your dazed face and the constant flush you had from just being near Fred.
He sat a few feet away in his own world, avoiding George and Lee’s conversation about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip.
You smiled at Ginny, and she furrowed her brows at you. You were about to tell her, but Ron fell with a thud onto the ground next to you.
“It’s been three bloody weeks and Snape’s already assigned 100 pages of reading,” Ron groaned, pulling a heavy textbook from under his arm. Hermione and Harry trailed behind him, sitting with much more grace than Ron had.
Hermione also noticed your at peace look and looked at you analytically.
You were finally able to tell them in the hall, during an extended period between classes.
“He kissed me last night,” you said with a blush.
“I told you!”
You hushed them, a bashful smile coming to your lips. Fred passed the three of you, his eyes locked on yours as he walked. Over his shoulder, he sent you a flirty wink. You felt weak at the knees and was glad that you were leaning against a wall.
“Maybe he’ll ask you to Hogsmeade,” Hermione said, tugging you off the wall and in the opposite way Fred was walking. You looked over your shoulder to see him walking backward, watching you walk away.
“Knowing Fred, he’ll probably pull some elaborate prank or get fireworks to spell your name out,” Ginny said, watching you look at her brother.
Fred did something like that, the two of you in the courtyard, laying in the grass. He had pulled you from dinner just after you were dismissed, and he led you to the courtyard. You both stared at the sky, and he looked at you. You met his gaze and then he pointed at the sky.
In huge, shining, red words read “Y/n, Hogsmeade this weekend?”.
You smiled at him and nodded. His hand snaked to cup your cheek still laying down. He pulled you towards him, and you moved to look down at him, propped up on your elbow. His lips met yours, and the sound of more bursting fireworks flooded the air around you.
It was nearly Christmas now. You and Fred have been dating for a few weeks, and he invited you back to the Burrow for the holidays.
You accepted, and you trudged your heavy bag into the fireplace. It was filled with gifts for the Weasley’s, and you were feeling quite confident about it.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione stayed at school for the holidays, leaving you, George, Fred, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in front of a fire on Christmas eve.
You had called your father on your flip phone he had given you as an early Christmas present. He was coming over tomorrow for Christmas morning, and you felt incredibly content.
Coming back to the couch, tucking your phone into your pocket, you slipped back under Fred’s arm, curling into his side. Mr. Wealsey had already had a go at the device, and he just watched amazed at it fitting into your pocket so easily.
The next morning you were woken up by the sound of your father’s booming voice downstairs. You sat up, stretching, and looked over to Ginny’s bed. It was empty, the covers were thrown aside. You slipped on a large cardigan, pulling it around your cold arms and going downstairs.
You were met with what felt like a dream. All the Weasley’s sat around the table, eating a huge Christmas breakfast and drinking tea. They each wore matching sweaters with their initials on them, and your father was standing with Mr. Weasley by the couch.
“Happy Christmas!” they all beamed at you.
Ginny tugged you over to the couch, sitting on one side of you while Fred sat on the other. Your father stood behind you on the couch, and a pile of presents were stacked in the room. You had brought your presents for the Weasley’s down last night, and you saw them on the ground.
Wrapping paper was everywhere, and the sound of happiness flooded the room. It finally came time for everyone to open what you had gotten them, and Fred went first. He tore away the red paper and held the plain box in his hands. He shook it, holding it up to his ear and smiling at you.
“Careful!” you told him, and he tore away the tape holding the box shut.
Inside, a brand new pair of garnet roller skates. He gasped, his large hands holding a skate up.
“Oh, my-” Mrs. Weasley said, already thinking of the awful thing he and George could do with those.
“It’s amazing!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you.
You returned the hug, and whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Fred.”
Soon, all the Weasley’s were holding different colored skates, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
597 notes · View notes
writingoneshots · 6 months ago
Hey uhm first of all I just wanna say, your fics are really good!😭❤ secondly, I appreciate the amount of effort you put in to your fics so thank you so much!
How about having an argument with Zoro, Sanji, Ace and Law and f!s/o accidentally says "i hate you", what would their reaction be like?
Angst but fluff and comfort ending if u may omg agsjsvs
N e wayz, have an amazing day bub!❤🥺
Sensitive Topic
Hello softiebadbitch :) ! love this name.
I wasn't really sure how to add 4 readers into one story but I think I found a good solution. It's clear to me that you wanted to have 4 separate stories but this would have been too long for one post and you can't use one request for several posts.. sadly. Hope this fixed it - I made one general story and continued with 4 different endings. All of them are in the reader version but the 'extra girlfriends' have their specific names to not make it too complicated.
Kind of like this way of writing.. wouldn't mind more requests like this :) ! Thanks for letting me explore this new style even though it probably wasn't intended.
And thank you so much for the kind words. I really appreciate it <3 especially because I don't know if anything I write is good enough for Tumblr or literally any request. Thank you, thank you, thank you <3 !
- Ace x reader - ZoroxRey, SanjixAna, LawxValeria (if one of these names is yours.. you're welcome) - 2,774 words (but it's a 4 in 1 story) - lovey-dovey, little pain in our chest, signs of smut, still SFW, cute moments
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Spending some girl-time with your closest best friends was a really rare occasion after spending years on many pirate ships. Especially bonding with female human beings was hard. But since you were dating Ace, you finally got the chance after meeting his friends. Some of them were already in a relationship with their current partners and the rest just started dating. After a successful shopping day, you spend the rest of the evening in the fanciest diner on this island and booked a whole room just for you and your better halves. The men were probably still training or doing something unimportant, but none of you cared. "Can you believe the guy from the bakery? He dared to follow us around just to carry our bags..?", Rey laughed and finished her second glass of wine. "Just please don't tell Sanji about it. He is already heartbroken because I went shopping without him.", Ana pouted and sighed a bit sad. You rolled your eyes, "Stop whining. This is the first time after eight months that we could hang out together. And we didn't have to worry about carrying something." "Plus, the guy seemed to be really into you, Ana.", Rey smirked and gave her a flirty wink. "Stop saying that! Sanji could come here any minute! You know how jealous he can get!", Ana warned Rey and glared at her. This was the worst timing ever. "Jealous? Why?! Did anyone touch you?!", Sanji's eyes were already in flames and he almost teleported himself to his girlfriend after hearing these words. The men decided to join you all on the right - or maybe wrong? - time and chose to mock the conversation. "Probably some weird girly things, we don't wanna know about.", Ace grinned and sat down right in front of you. The men sat down on the other side of the table and didn't even choose to greet them with a hug or a kiss, except for Sanji, who could barely let his fingers of Ana. You raised an eyebrow at Ace's comment, "What?" "Just kidding! You had probably something important to talk about.. like which nail color you're supposed to get next week.", Ace added and high-fived Zoro. "Or what hairstyle you should make to match your earrings!", Zoro couldn't stop laughing at his own comment. Ace turned to Law for another high five but he just glared at the topless pirate. "What? You're leaving me hanging like this?!" "Don't drag me into this.", Law turned away from him and faced Valeria, who seemed pleased by his answer. The others were not though. You were still confused by Ace's behavior but slowly understood that he tried to be as manly as possible in front of the others. Sanji sat down on his place after failing to convince Ana to have her sit on his lap. "What do you mean? An hour ago you were talking about how Valeria tried to draw her eyeliner but ended up looking like a panda!", Ace laughed and high-fived Zoro again, who seemed to feel a bit unsure about Ace's comment now. Rey looked down at her drink, already realizing how quickly the mood changed since they started making fun of all of you. Valeria was shocked. She didn't know how to respond and just shook her head, ignoring Law's desperate look on his face. "That's enough, Ace.", you talked silently and poured yourself some wine, not caring about the waiter offering to do it for you. "What.. I-", Ace froze after seeing your face. It pained him to see you being disappointed and he didn't know how that happened. "I am sorry if I have offended anyone.. we were just talking.. ", he cleared his throat and began to feel uncomfortable. He didn't see that coming. "Then maybe you should stop it", you were still not able to look up. "Stop what? Talking?" "Yes.", your eyes flashed up to him now. He didn't expect to see the anger in them. Ace has never seen that glare directed at him. It felt way too painful. "Okay, everyone. Let's calm down now and enjoy this dinner.", Sanji tried to cool down the situation and looked at the food, which didn't look good enough for his girlfriend. "Gonna be hard when you're here.", Zoro commented under his breath and was already eating his meal. "Huh?!", Sanji clenched
his teeth and tensed all his muscles to not smack Zoro for that comment. "Can you just calm down, you two?!", Ana took a deep and annoyed breath, trying to stay calm in this uncomfortable scenario. Ace couldn't stop but to look at you, ignoring him now. "Valeria-" "Don't.", she stopped Law from whatever he was trying to say. Everyone was quiet. Nobody was eating. "..anyone want some extra bread?", the waiter whispered and stood behind you, holding up a basket with fresh bread.
Ace x reader When you arrived in the room of your hotel, you still didn't dare to say a word. You were still furious about his behavior, especially because this wasn't the first time he dared to say something like that. "(Y/N), I am-" "I don't want to hear it." "Please, just let me-" "I said, that I don't want to hear it.", you hit your jacket onto the bed and let go of it a few seconds after. Taking a deep breath, Ace pressed his lips together and didn't know what to say or do. You two never had a fight like this and he feared to say something wrong, which would make you leave him. "I don't want us to go to bed angry.", he whispered sadly and stepped closer to you. You just froze and closed your eyes, trying to remain calm. "You always do this.. every time you make fun of something I do. I stopped talking about my hobbies and literally anything that makes me happy and you caught a glimpse of us having fun, and immediately you chose to mock it..." Ace frowned at that and thought back to all the times he tried to have fun with you. He never understood any of your hobbies or what girls liked, which is why he tried to spend some time with you by making jokes but it never occurred to him that it was actually hurting you. "Why did you never tell me that? I didn't know that it hurt you.." "Because I shouldn't need to tell you! I hate when you try to make fun of me or other people like that! You literally took the joy of me doing my hair, trying to learn how to skateboard or even baking muffins! I hate this, I hate the fights and I hate yo-" Both of you froze right on your spots. "Oh my God..", tears were rolling down your eyes and your knees weren't able to support you any longer. You immediately went down to your knees and hid your face in your hands. "I didn't want to say this.. it slipped.. I don't hate you, Ace!" Your heart was aching at what you were about to say. Ace didn't feel any better. He sat down right next to you and watched you wiping your tears away. "I have caused this... I am sorry, (Y/N).. This will never happen again, I promise. I just wanted to be a part of something in your life.", he took a deep breath and pulled you onto his lap. "I will find another way. Just please.. don't hate me." You shook your head and hugged him tight back, hiding your face in his neck and never ever letting him go. --- Zoro x Rey Zoro came out of the shower, just a towel around his hips and water still dripping down his naked chest. This was usually a sight, which made you jump right onto him but not this time. The pirate hunter had hoped for you to fall for it because he was really bad at apologizing but he knew you had a stronger will than him. He would have fallen for it. You were already in bed, cuddled into your pillow and ignoring him professionally. "Rey.. I can feel that you're not sleeping.", Zoro approached the bed and sighed when you didn't respond. "..are you mad at me?", he whispered now carefully. You raised an eyebrow at this provocative question and pressed your lips together, trying not to give back a stupid answer. But your mouth responded faster than your brain. "No, I am super happy about today's events. We can repeat that tomorrow again, if you feel like making fun of women-things.", you added in a sarcastic tone. "So.. that's a yes?" You turned around, the pillow tight in your grip and pulled the pillow with a loud thud onto his face. When you took the pillow away, you narrowed your eyes at his provocative smirk. "Definitely, yes." "Shut up.", you sighed and were about to turn around again but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to the other side of the bed until you were facing him. "Stop running away from your problems all the time, lady." "I really hate when you are doing this!", you tried to free your arm from his grip. "What?" "Using your strength to make me do whatever you want to!" "This is literally the reason, why you started dating me. Because I am not a weakling, who gets dragged by everyone like your stupid exes. But if you really hate it, then that means you must hate me
too, right?", he leaned forward, making sure not to miss any sort of reaction in your eyes. You looked at him surprised and didn't know what to say. After a few seconds, you shook your head and sighed a bit. "I couldn't hate you for being you. I hate the fact that you're making fun of girl-things all the time." "Alright, I'll stop then.", Zoro promised and let go of your hand. He turned around and went to the pile of washed clothes on the couch to pick out something to sleep in. Right.. I forgot how easy it can be in a relationship. You talk, promise and go on. Not believing what he just did, your brain had a thousand thoughts about what would happen during this night but it did not involve any sort of clothes. You stood up, went to him, and pulled away his towel. Zoro turned around, surprised by your decision, "Oj.. bad girl." --- Sanji x Ana After this emotional and very unusual dinner, you decided to have some tea. Sanji was still in your bedroom preparing a bath for you even though you've told him that you weren't in the mood for it. You hid in the kitchen and cooked some water, while preparing the rest. While you were looking for the honey, which he was hiding from Luffy, Sanji entered the kitchen. "Oj, what are you doing?", he approached you and immediately figured that you were making some tea. "Just something to warm myself up with a sweet taste.", you smiled a bit exhausted and felt Sanji's arms around you in an instant. "I am sorry for today.. I know that I promised you to not get triggered because of that marimo but his bare existence is to annoy me.", Sanji tried to brighten the mood and gave you a soft kiss on your head. "No, it's okay.. I am already used to it. I just wanted to have a chill day with the girls and this fight kind of ruined everything again.", you shrugged and leaned softly onto him, enjoying his muscular arms supporting you. "Oh.. so you don't hate me, right?" You laughed softly. The relationship had only just begun and Sanji had to question every move of yours. "I could never...", you looked up to him and kissed his warm lips softly, forgetting about everything that had happened in the last hour. --- Law x Valeria Law used his room ability to create a bubble surrounding the two of you. He carefully stepped closer and put his arm around your waist only to see you turn your head away from him. He tensed his jaw, trying to hide the sudden strike of pain in his chest and just decided to ignore it for now. "Shambles." You found yourself in your and Law's bedroom. After a few seconds, you just freed yourself from his arm and went straight into the bathroom, locking yourself in. Law just stood there, not knowing what to do or say. He had definitely hurt your feelings but he didn't know how to apologize for it. "Val..", he closed the distance slowly to the door and tried to listen to whatever you were doing inside. It sounded like you were throwing something away and sniffling quietly. Fuck.. "Valeria.. what are you doing?" "Cleaning.", your response was sharp. Law knew that he was a genius, who could solve the hardest puzzle on this planet or even have a detailed discussion with Robin, but even Luffy or Kid would have been able to figure out what you were doing right now. "Stop throwing away your things. I like it when you put on your make-up." "Are you sure about that? Or are you going to call me a dog or a salamander the next time you talk to others?!", you wiped away your tears and threw away the rest of the make-up, which you bought today. "Stop overreacting. I was just talking about your eyeliner the other day and you hated it too. Take out the make-up again and forget about it.", he sighed and knew that this wasn't something he should say but he also knew that it would trigger you enough to get out of the bathroom. "You know what-!", you opened the door harshly and stepped out, pointing your index finger at him. Law had a hard time hiding his cheeky smile because he already knew you well enough. "I hate what you're doing! Always talking about me behind my back! I hate
you for it!", you crossed your arms at your chest and took a deep breath, trying to control the last brain cells, which are still able to hold you back from kissing his cheeky smirk. The pirate captain raised an eyebrow at that and needed a second to choose his next words wisely. "Did you just tell me that you hate me?" "I said that I hate you for it! Not that I hate you!" "This is literally the same..", Law tilted his head a bit and couldn't quite accept that. "I hate it when you talk about me behind my back before talking to me personally. You were the first one to say 'I love you' but not directly to me.. no! You said it to Bepo first and he told me. Then you said that you preferred my soft cookies more than the brownies but again: you didn't tell me! You told Sanji! And to the newest 'Law is a wimp and can't tell his girlfriend anything personally', you told the boys that I looked like a damn panda!" "But a cute one..", Law smirked now and stepped closer, putting his hand on your cheek softly. You were just about to smack it away but Law was faster. He pushed you against a wall within a second and pressed his body against yours. His hand rested on your neck and he pressed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "Say it again, Valeria..", he purred your name in his dangerously sexy voice. "Say that you hate me." You frowned at his reaction and didn't really understand how this turned him on. "No, you weirdo." "Say it.", he commanded now and leaned closer to you, your lips barely touching. "Make me.", your last brain cells just said their goodbyes. A harsh sound of him pulling out his belt appeared beside you and you couldn't look away. His eyes were focused on yours as if he'd die if he'd miss anything for a second. "Don't tell Bepo.. but you're my favorite panda." "You fucking... I really hate you now.", you spoke through your teeth and tried to push him away. The most heartwarming laugh escaped Law's lips and he immediately locked his lips with yours, not giving you a chance to respond to him laughing. Law pulled your arms behind your back and tied them with his belt. "That's my girl.", he whispered in between your kiss and didn't let go of you for the rest of the night.
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y-uuta · 9 months ago
write it homie
veil - bokuto koutarou / akaashi keiji x reader
ily bby and i got u. and uh this came out more depressing than i thought lol, hope you enjoy!!!! note: characters are aged up and can be in a college or uni setting, the main point is that they’re legal lmao
part 2? maybe. angst smut? who knows,
based off of one of my earlier posts:
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you exhaled sharply, drawing in bitter air from the surrounding darkness and back into your lungs. your eyes fluttered shut, head lightly thudding against the wall. you could hear the other side of the line go quiet for a moment.
“(y/n)? you okay, puppy?” bokuto inquired. you could feel and see the concern drenching his face even through the phone. you let out a small giggle, letting it wrack your body as you absentmindedly drew along your arms with a pen. the sensation sent goosebumps licking every inch and crevice of your skin.
“yeah, ‘m fine. just tired, that’s all.”
“you sure?”
“pinky promise?”
“pinky promise” you laughed, hearing him relax on the other side of the phone.
“we totally screwed up. you know that, right?” you pinched the bridge of your nose, readjusting on your bed. you sat with your back against the wall, neck strained as you tilted your jaw up. your dominant hand held your phone close to your ear as the other continued to draw intricate patterns all over your body. your eyes remained shut, allowing yourself to try and manipulate your brain into sleeping- even if it was just for a little while.
“maaan, we have class in five hours and we’re still not asleep.”
“you’re a deal dumbass, bo.”
“really? but you love me anyway!”
“of course i love you. you might be a dumbass but at least you’re my dumbass.”
“shut up!”
“you’re supposed to let me say that stuff!”
“are you blushing or something? you’re acting like a schoolgirl”
“huh!? i’m not blushing, men don’t blush”
“yeah? put me on facetime right now”
“i hate you, don’t talk to me”
you giggled, a warm grin gracing your features when you heard him chuckle.
“listen, bo, i wanted to ask you about something.”
uncertainty and anxiety sweeped your stomach clean. you felt bile creep up in your throat, that familiar rancid aftertaste sent your mind into disarray.
“what’s up?”
a bruise.
it was a bruise that you didn’t have.
or, rather, a bruise that bokuto didn’t get.
in a world where every little mark, bump and bruise would show up on your soulmate’s body in correspondence to yours, you didn’t have the right match.
you felt your heart sink, the way you felt weightless in that second was unreal.
how would you tell him?
“it’s nothing serious, don’t worry”
“i was just wondering what you were doing yesterday after class, cause you were late out of practice. i wanted to buy you something for our sixth month anniversary.”
it was half the truth. technically, you weren’t lying. instead, you were asking him the roundabout way, hoping that he wouldn’t piece the puzzle together,
“yesterday? uhhhh, hm. let’s see..”
“oh! right! we have a practice match coming up soon so i had akaashi set a few balls for me”
“i seee, sorry if that sounded really serious, i think it’s the exhaustion getting to me.” you snorted, lightly rubbing the back of your head.
“you were going to buy me something?” you heard his voice peak in curiosity.
“shh! it’s a surprise, don’t ask what it is! that’s not nice!” you scolded him, hearing him pout and whine from miles away.
“pleaaaase? for me?”
“nope, no amount of emo mode is going to convince me”
“awwww, you’re so meaaan”
“hey, shouldn’t you get going to bed?” bokuto spoke out after a while.
“what about you? you know you can’t run off of your crackhead energy the entire day.”
“c-crackhead? i’ll have you know i don’t take drugs”
“just messing with you, bo.”
“you wanna sleep baby?”
“yeah. that would be nice.”
“good-“ “goodni-“ you both spoke at the same time, shakily laughing when you cut each other off.
“sorry, sorry. you go first” you hummed, your smile stretching from ear to ear.
“bokuto?” you rose your tone so that it was slightly louder than a hushed whisper.
you didn’t hear much except for his soft snores on the other side of the line. he fell asleep clinging onto his phone, cuddling into it whilst he listened to your voice.
“goodnight, bo. i love you.”
“you guys do the chemistry homework?” kenma huffed, slinging himself down into his seat as he began digging through his bag.
“there was chemistry homework?” you groaned, running your hands through your hair out of frustration.
“whoa, whoa. (y/n). you look like a raccoon, everything good?” kuroo snorted, his tone condescending as it was laced with concern and mockery. you gave him a lazy half wave, slumping back in your seat as you stared up at the ceiling. you heard him slide some papers towards you. a glance out of your peripheral vision confirmed that it was his chemistry homework.
you felt your hairs standing on end, nerves bundled up.
you could feel the vomit building up.
kuroo, being kuroo, didn’t overlook this. he exchanged a brief glance with kenma before he nodded at him.
“(y/n). come. i’ll get ya a drink.”
you followed him out of the classroom, walking a few steps behind him. you treaded carefully, avoiding his shadow.
was it him?
did he have the bruise?
you heard him click and tap onto the vending machine, punching in the code before slipping a few coins in. he passed you your favourite drink, leaning against the wall.
kuroo surveyed his surroundings, glancing up and down the hallway. you noticed he had also brought you to a vending machine that was further away, thus was used less.
“i’m here if you need to talk.”
“your arm.”
you watched kuroo blink a few times, the gears stirring in his mind like clockwork.
“your arm. can i see it?”
his eyes widened twofold with shock, yet he remained calm.
you watched him roll his sleeve up, showcasing the inner side of his wrist which you pointed to.
his skin was smooth, with no visible marks or bruise.
“is bokuto not..”
“no, he’s not.”
“do you know who it is?”
“shit. that’s bad.”
“and uh, today’s our sixth month anniversary.”
“what other marks do you have? any recent ones? maybe his bruise faded already?”
you rolled your sleeve up, jaw practically dropping at the rabid pen marks littering your arm,
“i was drawing with a pen last night ‘cause i was on the phone to him. i didn’t realise it was clicked, though-“
“hey hey hey! heck are you two doing here all secretive?” bokuto chortled, his booming voice audible from down the hall.
you felt kuroo quickly move to pull down the cuff of your sleeve, playing it off to look like he was passing something to you.
“whoa, what’s with the serious faces?” bokuto pouted, surveying your features.
“oi, oi, airhead, it’s top secret stuff, ya know? i’m helping her pick out some gifts for your six months” kuroo gave him a sly wink, smirking.
you gave akaashi a polite nod.
you could’ve sworn on your life that you watched his gaze flicker to your arms.
“(y/n)! you’re gonna get everyone involved but me!”
“because it’s for you, bokuto-san. you don’t plan surprise birthday parties with the birthday person.”
“akaaaashiii! you’re so rude, taking her side like that!”
well, what choice did he have?
when he kept wishing for the things that would never become true?
why was it that you were right within his reach, yet so far?
you were radiant like the moon, with the warmth of the sun.
he could just barely touch you, like a pleasant sun beam sub-scattering his fingertips.
but you were never his, no matter how much he wanted it.
maybe it was selfish of him to be jealous.
he did meet you first, after all.
he did introduce you to bokuto, after all.
“it’s fine, kuroo. we’ll figure something out later.” you spoke out, glancing back to meet his relentless gaze. his face read ‘alright, let’s go back to class’
but his eyes screamed,
‘it’s him.’
‘his best friend.’
you wouldn’t have known it yet.
“six months, huh? that’s a long time.” kuroo drawled, slapping bokuto on his back.
“still feels like i met her yesterday. she’s as beautiful as ever.” bokuto grinned, changing out of his volleyball shirt and back into his usual attire.
“listen, airhead. i’ll tell you what she’s buying for you if you can go and buy me a few sandwiches.”
“that’s a deal!” bokuto grinned, sprinting outside of the locker room.
“you don’t usually eat the sandwiches here.” akaashi stated, staring at the inside of his locker.
“i don’t.”
“have you realised it yet?” kuroo inquired, giving him little to no context to test the waters. he slipped his shirt off over his head in a criss-crossed motion to change into a new one.
“i’ve known it for a while.”
“what?” kuroo snorted, turning to stare at akaashi.
“i didn’t say anything. how could i?” akaashi gave him a small laugh. he lifted up the fabric, showing kuroo his arm. it had the exact same pen marks.
and a bruise on the inner side of his wrist.
“what are you going to do?”
“realistically?” akaashi sighed,
“probably say nothing. i won’t speak up at their wedding even if it cripples me.”
“you’re such a pain in the ass. you know there’s nothing i can do.”
“what happens if he finds out?”
“i’ll leave that for future me.”
you knocked twice, then thrice, against the men’s locker room.
“it’s (y/n).” you called out, clearing your throat.
kuroo double checked to make sure that no one else was in the locker room before he beelined towards the door.
the two words that he said to you there and then made your blood run cold.
you felt the wind get knocked out of your lungs. you suffocated despite being surrounded by oxygen. you felt heavy, like you had sunk to rock bottom.
the saliva in your mouth suddenly resembled acid with the way it burned your throat.
you heard the door close behind you, leaving you only with the raven-haired male in front of you. his expression was passive but he kept fidgeting with his fingers.
“akaashi?” you croaked out, your throat constricting and extremely dry.
he gave you a small nod.
“is it-“
“are you-“
he lifted his sleeve up, turning the inner portion of his arm.
so identical it was fucking creepy.
like an exact copy. like it was pasted onto him.
what about bokuto?
who was his soulmate?
akaashi gave you nothing. he didn’t give you any excuses, any reasoning. he just opened his arms out, inviting you to embrace him.
you figured it wouldn’t have hurt you anymore than the entire situation already had.
you slumped against him, feeling him sharply exhale as if out of shock that you actually hugged him.
akaashi wrapped his limbs around you, supporting the back of your head with his hand as he brought your face to lean into his chest. he rested his chin on top of your head, lightly swaying you back and forth as grief filled sobs wracked your body.
there was nothing else he could have done.
“why? akaashi, why didn’t you say anything sooner? i mean- fuck- you introduced me to him, and i went out with him. why did you sit there and watch, akaashi? why didn’t you tell me?”
“you know i couldn’t have done that, (y/n). i knew he fell for you as soon as he saw you.”
“so what? you’re allowed to be selfish, akaashi.” you groaned, screwing your eyes shut.
“i am selfish.”
“how? you didn’t do anything.”
“there’s possibly nothing that would stop me from telling you.”
“telling me what?”
“that i love you.”
it wasn’t the whole situation that felt like a dream.
it was how you felt.
it was the heart breaking sob that choked your lungs.
how you felt weightless.
it was the way your heart shattered into a million pieces, the self hatred and regrets you felt clashed over you all at once.
it was the way you felt your stomach churn.
it was the way bokuto slumped against the frame of the door, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.
the way he just witnessed everything and watched his best friend confess that he loved you.
“happy six months, bo. i wish you all the best.”
read part 2 here !
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beauty-and-passion · a year ago
Logan’s playlist: an essay of frustration and acceptance (part 2)
Hi, welcome back to the playlist analysis that is the bane of my existence. Not the one about the emo poetic boi. Not the one about the cryptic snek boi. Not the one about the trash rat boi. Not the one about the dramatic himbo prince boi. The one about the nerd.
Anyway, this is the second part, so in order to understand it better, give a look at the first part, then come back here. As always, there could be swear words and mention of a lot of stuff, so read it at your own risk.
Well, since Logan’s groupies didn’t kill me last time, we can raise the stakes a little bit, mh? ;)
Time to talk about Thomas and Logan’s relationship.
This section is absolutely insane. It covers the songs right in the middle of the playlist and it’s a crescendo of emotions that leads to a violent outburst.
For being the embodiment of logic, the nerd is pretty passionate about everything, isn't he? I mean, the whole playlist is basically filled with emotional songs, with the only exceptions of The Elements and Galaxy Song - and this one is a bit in the middle too.
But here we'll start to see what Logan feels in relation to a particular subject: the big guy himself, Thomas Sanders.
Spoiler: they’re not exactly the good emotions you might’ve expected.
Frustration - Streaks
This is a very, very interesting song. It’s just in the middle of the playlist and, as every song placed in the middle, it carries a huge meaning behind.
Streaks is a coming-of-age song about the trial and errors of growing up. The title itself can be considered a reference to the streaks of gray that appear in your hair when you get old.
This song gives us a glance at Thomas' growth and at the part Logan played in it. But it also shows us how Logan felt during that time and what happened, when Thomas took the decision that changed his whole life.
Tell me what did you learn at school today Did they show you what you're worth in numbers and signs You can read every word you can solve every equation a hundred times Just to wonder what comes next, oh
Logan sounds like a good father, sitting down next to young Thomas, asking him to tell his logical side what he learned at school. There’s pride in Logan's tone (“You can read every word you can solve every equation a hundred times”), but there’s also another emotion: curiosity.
Curiosity should always be associated with logic. Curiosity is the foundation of every research for knowledge, every scientific breakthrough, every theory and every human creation. We asked ourselves questions, just out of sheer curiosity (why the sky is blue, why the water is deep, why the ground shakes sometimes, why fish can't breath air) and that same curiosity pushed us to search for answers to our questions. There wouldn't be anything, if curiosity never pushed us to know more.
So, considering how fundamental curiosity is for logic's existence, it should be everywhere in this playlist, right?
And yet, we see it here, for the first time. After nine songs. And in a moment in which Logan is referring to Thomas' past. As if curiosity doesn’t play a role anymore for present Logan.
All these years of filling out papers Building a future, keeping your head down Tryin’ to keep a head on your shoulders, keep it creative, make it your own somehow Cause It's all a piece of the plan It's something you'll understand When you're older
And that’s the part that made me think: "This is all referring to Thomas”.
We all know that Thomas Sanders (the original one) pursued a career in Chemical Engineering and even worked as an engineer for a while. He even confirmed it with this tweet:
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Just like the real one, after graduating and working as an engineer, Character!Thomas chose a different path. And Logan never hid his frustration for this decision, as we saw in Moving On part 1:
[Logan]: So many years of chemical engineering and science that you decided to flush down the metaphorical toilet.
The chorus of Streaks shows the exact same frustration Logan expressed with that sentence. Thomas (and Logan) spent years of Thomas' life “filling out paper” for school, college, university. Admission papers, test papers, final papers. Everything in order to “build a future”, Thomas’ future, for a stable job.
But not just that: Logan helped in keeping Thomas’ head “down”, in never letting him in trouble - because how was he supposed to graduate and find a job, if he did something stupid or sketchy and got caught? What if he got punished, expelled or - worst case scenario - arrested? Logan couldn't let Thomas do something that could ruin his life and blemish his record. They're working hard on preparing a good future for him.
At the same time, Logan helped in keeping Thomas' head creative. And that sounds nonsensical, because Creativity is Roman's job, not Logan. But just as curiosity is an essential part that leads to discovery and knowledge, so is creativity. You should be at least a tiny bit creative, if you want to understand something new, develop a theory or make a breakthrough.
The last three lines are something everyone can relate to. When you were younger, you surely asked yourself - at least once: why studying all this stuff? Why going to school all these hours and dealing with teachers and filling all those stupid papers? Why caring about all of this?
Because these are all “pieces of the plan": your life plan. If you don’t do these things, your life will be much harder and you won't have a good future. Studying hard, getting good grades, going into good universities, pursuing a doctorate: those are all necessary steps in order to have a good job, a good pay, less problems and less worries.
Of course you don't care about all this stuff when you're a kid, because your parents provide you everything. But when you start to get older, these things become increasingly important.
At the same time, you can't start working to achieve these goals when you're old enough to truly care about them (like when you're 18 or 20 or 30). You have to start when you’re still a kid and pile up your progress over time.
The message is the same here: if Thomas can’t understand his choices now, if he questions his career and his job as chemical engineer, it’s because he’s still young and naive. He will understand it when he'll be 50 or 60 and he will find out that being an engineer is a much safer job, compared to any artistic-related job.
So Logan still sees Thomas as a little, clueless child who can't understand his choices now. But he will, one day, when he'll be more mature.
Except that Thomas destroyed all the years of planning. He left his stable, secure job, to get into the complicated world of acting. He left a career he built over years and years of constant commitment. That big plan he and Logan worked so hard to fulfill... everything was flushed “down the metaphorical toilet”, as Logan said.
You're a smart kid, tough kid, but you're still a kid that grew
Again: Thomas is smart, is strong, Logan knows that and he's proud of him... but, Thomas is a kid. He grew up physically, but he's still not an adult. And he needs Logan’s guidance and help.
Hubris - What I Do For U
I want you to survive Anything you need I hope that heaven finds What you'd done when you made me I can't get my own feet Not like I want to Only heaven knows What I do for you
Those are the first lines and we already have:
Christian references (are we back in Janus’ playlist?)
Logan being frustrated because he can’t do things like he would like to ("I can't get my own feet / Not like I want to"), because, of course, Thomas doesn't listen to him as much as Logan wants
He's so damn passive-aggressive I feel like he just smacked me
Logan’s hubris
And that last point is the one I would like to expand a bit more. Because, as said in the first part of this analysis, Logan has always been very proud of who he is, of his awesome mind and vast knowledge. He doesn't think he’s just smart, he knows he’s “smarter than everyone else”.
That's not just a huge self-esteem, that's pure hubris. And we can see it in full here:
I'm your only hope I'm your savior too Every single test You've been ever carried through
Logan isn’t just Thomas’ helper or his supporter. He sees himself as Thomas' only hope and savior. Damn, that’s definitely more than just “being proud of themselves”. Only Logan can save Thomas. If there’s a problem, Thomas has to ask for Logan. Just Logan. Logan is the one who always helped him, with every single test he carried through his life: school, job, everything. Logan has saved him every time. Logan is essential for Thomas.
That’s an impressive - and a bit disturbing - amount of hubris. Not even Janus, who dedicated his playlist to Thomas, has called himself “Thomas’ savior”. But Logan did. And he has such a high opinion of himself, to think he’s the only side who matters.
And for someone with such a big self-esteem, just imagine how devastating it can be, when the person you’re supposed to save doesn’t listen to you.
Passive-aggressive behaviour - Erase Me
Here we are, the famous Erase Me everyone talked about.
I was genuinely curious to listen to it, because according to a lot of people, that was the quintessential of Logan's angst. Gosh, how sad will this song be? I was ready to be devastated, because Logan is not okay, poor boy :(((. So I listened to it.
And my thought was: “Damn, this guy has some serious balls”.
​​What was our home Paper not stone A lean-to at most And when you pulled your half away Gravity won
​Those first lines are a huge metaphor: a relationship is like leaning against a house, holding it together. It's a huge, constant commitment. So when one of the people involved in the relationship "pulls away", the house inevitably crumbles.
The relationship between Logan and Thomas has been the same. Thomas was pursuing a career in Chemical Engineering. It was a huge commitment. But he and Logan worked together, day after day, year after year, building a house of papers - the same papers mentioned in Streaks, "pieces of a plan" for Thomas' future.
But Thomas left that plan. He didn't commit anymore, because he changed his mind and chose to be an actor. And the “house” crumbled down.
Did I weigh a ton?
We can notice a tiny bit of insecurity in Logan's words. Maybe he was the problem? Did he put too much pressure on Thomas? Was he such a burden, to make Thomas take that drastic decision to change his life?
Would it be easier to just delete Our pages and the plans we made?
Logan can’t believe it: does Thomas really want to delete all their plans, "all these years of filling out papers" and building a future, like it was nothing? They spent years following that plan, they committed to it. It's illogic to let it go. It's absurd. Logan can't accept it.
Erase me So you don't have to face me Put me in the ground and mow the daisies
Logan is so pissed, to become passive aggressive. Look at those lines: he literally dares Thomas to kill him. Because Thomas should feel guilty, when he looks at Logan and remembers how much time they apparently “wasted” on his career ("So many years of chemical engineering and science that you decided to flush down the metaphorical toilet."). But if Thomas kills him, he won't have to face Logan and remember that decision to abandon science that will RUIN his life (according to Logan).
And Logan won't bother him anymore, since he's such a burden.
He goes even further in the next line: "put me in the ground" means "bury me", while "mow the daisies" connects to the phrase “pushing up daisies”, that basically means "someone has been buried and their remains are contributing to the growth of those flowers".
So Logan is saying: delete me, kill me, bury me and when my body will be nothing more than soil and daisies will grow from my grave, cut those daisies too.
I told you this man is DARK.
So what will you do With no me for you? I know what we said What if I left a thing or two? We know that you don't seem To think about what you need 'til you reach to find that you've Erased me
Listen, I am a tiny bit passive aggressive when someone really goes on my nerves, but THIS is a whole new level.
"So what will you do / With no me for you?": remember What I Do For U? Logan has a huge consideration of himself. So he asks Thomas what he will do, without Logan. He's Thomas' "saviour", his "only hope". Thomas is doomed without him.
And the next lines confirm that: when Thomas will need something, when he will beg for his saviour's help, he will find out that, oh no, Logan isn't here anymore to help and save him.
And it will all be Thomas' fault.
"I know what we said / what if I left a thing or two?": damn, Logan, stop being so savage. Not only is he saying that he already spoke with Thomas about this decision and told him what he thought about it (and we can easily imagine what kind of words he used), but he's also slightly insulting Thomas. Maybe he still has to say a few words to Thomas - and they definitely won't be nice words.
What the fuck is this? You're crazy, turned around In two weeks time replaced me
Logan is PISSED. "What the fuck is this?" is a pure, open reaction, devoid of dripping sarcasm and passive-aggressive behaviour. Logan can't accept Thomas' decision to be an actor. It's stupid. What the fuck is he doing? It's crazy!
But just after that, here comes the sarcasm again: once more, Logan dares Thomas to replace him. Logan is such a burden, so annoying and no one listens to him anyways, so it should be free to replace him with a funnier, more useful side, mh? Two weeks are enough: after all Logan isn't useful, he's not Thomas saviour and hope, so it should be easy to replace him.
Damn Logan, easy with the sarcasm.
Erase me Option-Command-Escape me And if you feel nothing, guess what I wanna be? Nothing
The keys Option+Command+Escape are used on Apple devices to forcefully terminate applications that are running. Here is another metaphor: Logan is daring Thomas to forcefully shut him down, again. After all, Thomas doesn't need him, so come on, Thomas. Erase me, if you DARE.
But notice that Logan's outburst isn’t motivated just by hubris and frustration: Logan is smart, he knows he can allow himself to do it. Because he's the goddamn Logic, Thomas needs him to function as a human being. So he perfectly knows Thomas can't get rid of him.
And so, he feels he has the upper hand. He can dare something no other Side could've ever dared: to put himself above Thomas and defy him. And that's incredibly huge, because Thomas isn't just another side, but the reason for Logan’s existence. And Logan considers himself better than his creator.
It kinda reminds me of Nietzsche and "God is dead" that, you know, it strangely fits with the next song.
Self-hatred - Art is Dead
On a superficial level, this song is a series of insults towards artists, who are described like this:
Have you ever been to a birthday party for children And one of the children won't stop screaming 'Cause he's just a little attention-attractor When he grows up to be a comic or actor He'll be rewarded for never maturing For never understanding or learning That every day can't be about him There's other people, you selfish asshole!
So artists are just children who never grew up, little attention-seekers who should be reprimanded by society, but are instead encouraged by it.
Okay, now change the word "artist" with "Thomas".
L​ogan has always considered Thomas a kid, since Streaks ("You're a smart kid, tough kid, but you're still a kid that grew")​. Thomas never matured, never learned. He ​flushed ​years of chemical engineering and science​ ​"down the metaphorical toilet"​. Despite Logan's constant attention and guidance, Thomas took that decision that changed his life ("​​​... that YOU decided to flush down...")​ and Logan had to deal with it.
​But, deep down, that decision hurt him.​ That's not what Logan wanted for Thomas. And he finally said it, in LNTAO:
[Logan]: Thomas, I have held back my opinions for too long. And that's obviously not benefiting you. I refuse to withhold my perspective any longer. You need to get a real job.
​Logan never accepted Thomas’ decision to be an actor. And this song is his way to rant about it, to show how clearly he hates it.​
I am an artist Please God, forgive me I am an artist Please don't revere me I am an artist Please don't respect me I am an artist Feel free to correct me
We all know the sides are facets of Thomas' single personality. But there are sides like Virgil, who prefer to keep some individuality ("Let me be an individual, Thomas​" from 12 Days of Christmas)​ and talk about their job with Thomas as a cooperation, like Virgil does in Embarrassing Phases:
[Virgil]: You talk about how I work with you now. That's great, but... I need you to work with me, too.
​On the other hand, Logan is probably the only side who clearly pointed out he's not Thomas’ coworker, helper or supporter, but part of him.
[Thomas]: But, like, have you watched The Office bloopers? [Logan]: As a matter of fact I've watched it fifteen and a half times because I AM A PART OF YOU!
​Logan is the only side who made this "overlap"​. And we see it in the song too. the subject is "I". I am an artist. Because Logan IS part of Thomas, so if Thomas is an artist, so is Logan.
And he hates it. He hates being an artist. He hates this career he didn't choose ("Please God, forgive me​"). He hates people indulging him into this​ decision, he hates that there's no one stopping Thomas from pursuing this career, he hates that Thomas is so good at it and people appreciate him, because the more he grows as an actor, the less he will come back to the career he was pursuing before.
That's self-hatred, plain and simple. Logan is Thomas and if Logan hates Thomas' decision, Logan hates himself too. Because no matter if it was Thomas who decided to stop being an engineer and be an actor instead: Thomas is Logan and Logan is Thomas, so Thomas' decision is Logan's decision. And Logan hates himself for doing that.
At the same time, you can notice something else, in the words used in this song: "Please don't respect me​", "​Feel free to correct me"​... guys, that's sarcasm. A pretty heavy one.
And if you come back​ to read the whole song​, ​it takes a whole different meaning.
​Logan hates being an artist, because he loves it.​ But he's not supposed to love it! He's ​​Logic, he​ should hate ​this silly career! He left a good, serious, perfect job as a chemical engineer and he deeply regrets that decision. But, at the same time, he likes being an artist.
It's a real paradox: Logan hates his choice, but he also loves it. He hates and loves being an artist and he hates himself for loving it.
A self-centered artist Self-obsessed artist I am an artist I am an artist But I'm just a kid I'm just a kid I'm just a kid, kid And maybe I'll grow out of it
Again: Thomas is a kid that never grew (as seen in Streaks) and if Thomas is a kid, then Logan is a kid. A kid that never grew out of his silly, childish desire to be an artist. Because all kids want to be artists, while their parents typically encourage the​m to focus on a more academic career (​like, you know, chemical engineering)​ hoping that, eventually​, the kid will​ “grow out of”​ that silly desire​ and move on to focus on other things.
Logan acted like a parent. Thomas has always wanted to be an artist, Creativity has always pushed him to pursue his hopes and dreams. So Logan tried to push Thomas in a different direction, hoping that this childish desire will fade away.
But it didn't. Logan lost the battle, Thomas changed his plans... and Logan actually likes Thomas' new career. But he feels guilty for liking it, guilty for failing his job. He's Logic, he's clever and smart, he knows that being an actor isn’t a steady job, that Thomas can easily fail, lose the public favour and be unemployed. He should hate it.
Yet, he still loves it. He loves it so much, to hate himself and Thomas for doing it. To the point of lashing out to Thomas, threatening him, challenging his authority and insulting him.
And if that doesn't sound like a broken man with a huge problem of self-hatred, I don't know what it is.
Just a kid - Equation
This song is part of the soundtrack of The Little Prince. I hope you all have seen the movie or, at least, you know the novel, because it's beautiful. When I was a child, I didn't find it so compelling - yeah, okay, so a kid and his friendship with the fox and stuff, like, who cares? - but when you grow up, you see the layers of this story. And it's heartwarming to see how the movie is able to show them, with the use of that wonderful animation. And the story of the movie integrated the novel in such a beautiful way!
Quick recap of the premise of the movie: the protagonist is a little girl, who is facing  incredible pressures to grow up prematurely. One day, she befriends an eccentric old man living next door and, over the course of the film, he tells her the story of the little prince, subtly exposing the impossible expectations she deals with.
If you've never seen this film, see it. Especially the first part. The second part is kinda stupid and, honestly?, it angers me, because the movie was dealing with very important themes - but instead of focusing on them, it took that idiotic turn of "let's fight evil people to solve everything" that is just dumb.
Back to the song: Equation explores the little girl's feelings in a very subtle, delicate way. She IS a little girl, she's still a kid, but she's forced to face adulthood. To leave behind dreams and aspirations, because there are other things to focus on.
Yep, it's the perfect aftermath of Logan's outburst in Art is Dead.
The song opens with numbers and words that keep repeating in the background, representing knowledge - logic, what Logan is and what he should be. It's like a chant, a constant whisper that burdens him, just like it was a burden for the little girl.
Have I made you cross? Have I made you sad? Have I made you proud, Mom?
Those are probably the saddest lines ever, because for the whole movie, the girl has a conflicting relationship with her mother. She knows her mother wants her best, by forcing her to study all day and never let her be a child. But, at the same time, she hates her mother's plan, because she was spending all her time preparing for the future and never had enough time to enjoy her present and her childhood.
The same happened between Thomas and Logan: Logan is the mother, forcing Thomas to follow a path that was very distant from what he actually dreamed about. But Logan is also the child, because, just like Thomas, he focused too much on building a future, to forget what he had/was.
So this line "Have I made you proud, Mom?" just shatters my heart in tiny pieces, because it's Logan talking to Thomas. Logan wants the best for Thomas, just like any other side, but his best hurt Thomas. And, by hurting Thomas, Logan hurt himself too.
Logan's hubris, his frustration, even his outburst and insults... they were all a way to express his pain. The choice to become an actor has been a double-edged sword: it made Logan happy, but it made him sad too. His own nature as logic conflicted with is (and Thomas') desire to be an actor. So he tried to force Thomas to pursue a more stable, conventional career, hoping that would solve the internal conflict he was having between his nature and his/Thomas' desires.
Will I ever know How white is the snow? Does it matter after all? Will I ever learn How to fly like birds?
And so, Logan focused on his/Thomas’ future too much. He tried so hard to "grow up" and stop thinking about being an artist, that he shut down a fundamental part of himself, that part of logic that is more related to kids and youth: his curiosity.
Do you remember how strange it was that curiosity appeared so rarely in this playlist? We never saw anything resembling curiosity, after Streaks.
It's because Logan forced it down. In order to be logical and rational, he forgot there's no logic, no science, nothing, without curiosity. We humans would've never been this smart or made such huge discoveries, without curiosity pushing us to know more.
And the following lines "Maybe in an hour / In a day / In a week" show Logan's struggle even more. Deep down he wants to be a kid, he wants to be curious... but he tries to convince himself to do it later. In an hour. Or the day after. Or the week after. He keeps postponing the moment in which he will be allowed to be curious, to be a child, because being Logic is more important and he can't allow himself to indulge in "childish things".
But that means denying and forcing part of himself away. And, by doing that, the result is hating yourself, because you've never given you time to accept and appreciate every part of you.
Will I be a brave Will I be a bright Will I be a good grown-up?
But Logan hasn't realized it soon. He's already into a spiral of self-hatred. Yet, he hopes that these painful feelings will help Thomas, somehow. He hopes that denying himself his own curiosity, his more "childish side" and focusing so much on being just Logic, the adult, the grown-up, will make him good. That's so damn heartbreaking, because he already took that decision, he already forced himself to shut down a part of him... and he did it, because he thought it was the best decision for Thomas. Because focusing on the future was the right thing to do. He had to be a good grown-up for Thomas. He had to help him build his future.
Because, just like every other Side, Logan deeply loves Thomas. And he desperately needs to be loved by him too.
Love - Sunrise
This song is a low blow, because the true meaning is very well hidden. You listen to it and wow, it's a very romantic song. But, like... VERY romantic. TOO romantic. It's not that you have to ship Logince to connect the song to these two: is that the ship bursts into your house, grabs you by the shoulders and yells "HEY HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT ABOUT HOW LOGAN AND ROMAN ARE DEEPLY IN LOVE?".
I don't even ship them, but the shipping energy is SO STRONG, all you can do is give up. Geez, fine, okay, apparently Logan is incredibly infatuated with Roman and I can already hear him justifying this song, by saying: "No, I chose it because it has the translation incorporated for a lot of spanish words and I'm learning how to say "the Prince is stupid" in every language, that's all".
Also, the "I hate you but I actually love you" energy is too strong. Damn, Logan, I’m trying to do my job ship-free, don’t tease me.
Also, this song was probably chosen because Joan is a fan of In The Heights and they love Logan, so Joan+Thomas decided to be the biggest trolls ever and put the two things together with a love song.
I'll admit it, the shipping energy made me question a lot WHY this song was here. But then, I took a step back and saw the song from the outside. What is this song about? What is the theme of this song?
The theme can be summarized with this line:
Promise me you’ll stay beyond the sunrise
The two characters are in love, they're afraid their love won't be approved and others will oppose them. But here they promise each other to stay together. And that's what Logan is asking too: Logan is asking Thomas to not leave him.
That's basically a 180 from Erase me, in which he challenged Thomas to kill him. Erase Me was the result of Logan's frustration and self-hatred: Sunrise is a tender expression of Logan's true feelings and his deep fears.
Logan may act strong and adult, but he's still a child who has never allowed himself to be it. And, as every child, deep down he just wants to be loved. Equation hinted this feeling ("Have I made you proud, Mom?"), while Sunrise shows it in the deepest, most heartwarming way.
Logan's choice to cut off his foundation (his curiosity) and be an adult led to another consequence: not only Logan hates himself, but he doesn't feel loved at all. And that scares him, makes him even more sad and prone to hate himself. Because if Thomas doesn't love him, maybe it's Logan's fault, because Logan is wrong, he's doing his job wrong, he's not mature enough, he's still too childish - thus leading to Logan denying and hating himself even more, being even more sad because of the lack of love and hating himself even more in a neverending cycle.
Logan just wants to be loved. And, with Sunrise, he's expressing this desperate need: he doesn't want to be left behind. He wants to be by Thomas' side. He wants Thomas to care about him, to listen to him, to show him affection.
This is huge for someone like Logan, who denies having feelings. He's exposing them a lot, he's exposing himself a lot, in this desperate request for love.
And that leads to the obvious consequence.
The pain of healing - One More Time with Feeling
As said before, Logan exposed himself a whole lot. Equation and Sunrise went in the opposite direction, if compared to the previous four songs we saw - and to the whole first half of the playlist! Until Equation, Logan was a cold, logical side, confident, sarcastic, full of himself, hard with Thomas. But then, the bubble popped and Logan showed what his true feelings are: pain, hope, love. He showed how desperate he is for Thomas' appreciation.
And so, the most natural thing he does is taking a step back.
Your stitches are all out But your scars are healing wrong
By exposing himself so much, Logan doesn't feel like he made the right choice. He exposed his "stitches": his pain, his doubts, his desperation. And exposing your feelings should make things better, right? When others know what do you truly feel, then it's all downhill from here, right? You were hurt, but now you're better.
No, it's not. In real life, it's never like that. Logan is still suffering. His scars aren't healing, he's still in pain.
Everyone takes turns Now it's yours to play the part And they're sitting all around you Holding copies of your chart And the misery inside their eyes is Synchronized and reflecting it to yours
This is the most Logan thing I've ever read. That's Logan 110%. And those lines are telling us A LOT.
They're telling us that the other sides know about Logan's feelings, in this moment (probably somewhere in the future). That Logan's issues have been addressed and solved. That the episodes keep going and everything looks the same: everyone talks, they solve the issue of the day, sink down, peace out.
It's like a perfect play. Everyone plays a part and Logan feels like he's also playing it. It's his turn to talk and the others are all around him. He's explaining something, something related to a new issue Thomas is having, something completely unrelated to him. The other sides are holding some charts he gave them.
And when he looks at them, their eyes reflect the same misery he's feeling inside.
My heart just cracked a bit.
Logan isn't well. At all. Exposing himself and addressing his pain should've made him feel better soon. But the healing process isn't as fast as he thought.
Hold on One more time with feeling Try it again, breathing's just a rhythm Say it in your mind until you know that the words are right This is why we fight
And so, once again, Logan forces himself to do something - in this case, play a part. He forces himself to not collapse, to keep a hold on himself. He's on the road of recovery now. And yes, he's still in a lot of pain, he's still hurt and desperate... but he has to give it time. He must be patient. He's doing it not just for himself, but for Thomas. He’s the reason why Logan is fighting.
You thought by now you'd be So much better than you are You thought by now they'd see That you had come so far
As I said before, Logan thought that, by now (aka after addressing and solving his issues and completing his arc), he would be better. He would’ve just changed with a snap of his fingers and bam, now he's a new side and everything is okay.
That's not what happened. He learned what he did wrong, by rejecting his curiosity and not allowing himself to express his feelings and desires. He slowly moved to the road of recovery.
And, apparently, it's been a long, VERY long recovery. And he hoped the others would see how far he'd come. But if they'd seen it, why all he can see is misery in their eyes? Why do they still feel pity towards him?
And so, he plays a part. The part of a side who is feeling better, who has solved his problems, I'm not still hurt, why would you think that?
And the pride inside their eyes Would synchronize into a love you've never known So much more than you've been shown
Logan hoped to see them being proud of him. He hoped they would give him "a love you've never known". Just like in Equation, Logan feels like he has never been loved enough. And, consequently, he has never been able to fully express his love ("So much more than you've been shown").
Just remember Streaks, What I Do For U, Erase Me and Art is Dead: Logan was frustrated and lashed out, because he wasn't able to express his affection in a different, healthier way. His self-hatred and all his feelings, so bottled up, weren't able to flow in a more natural way. And so, his love for Thomas remained at the bottom, under layers upon layers of pain and hate.
Now, Logan is trying to do the right thing. He's recovering. But the road is still long and all he can do is pretend that he's making good progress, while he's actually still in the painful part of his journey.
Towards acceptance - In My Mind
This song is basically the summary of Logan's journey of growth, from his first terrible mistake, to the final realization.
And it's funny how I imagined That I would be that person now But it does not seem to have happened Maybe I've just forgotten how to see That I am not exactly the person that I thought I'd be
Logan wanted to be perfect, "the picture of discipline". Never saying the wrong thing, never indulging in any bad habit, always calm and collected. But then, he realized that no, he's not like that, Thomas isn't like that.
So, maybe, it was his fault. He has forgotten to use his foresight, to focus on Thomas' future. He should focus more, that's the solution. He should stop indulging in the childish parts of himself, growing up and being more serious.
I'm so busy with everything That I don't look at anything But I'm sure I'll look when I am older
And so, Logan has a lot to do, now: planning things, preparing Thomas, training him every day for the future, when he will be older and he will have time to enjoy stuff. He can't enjoy his life now, because now he has to focus on the future. He will enjoy things later, when he'll be older and he'll have more time.
But that's not what I want If that's what I wanted Then I'd be giving up somehow How strange to see That I don't wanna be the person that I want to be
But then, after he reached the climax and let all of his hatred out, Logan realized that no, that's not what he wants to be. He wants to be a child. He wants to be curious. He wants to be an artist. He actually doesn't want Thomas (and himself) to be "the picture of discipline".
And it's funny how I imagined That I could win this winless fight But maybe it isn't all that funny That I've been fighting all my life But maybe I have to think it's funny If I wanna live before I die And maybe it's funniest of all To think I'll die before I actually see That I am exactly the person that I want to be
And that's now that Logan realizes: he wasn't wrong, at the beginning. He wasn't doing anything wrong. Thomas' desires weren't wrong. Being childish, being curious, following dreams and being an artist... those were what they both had always wanted. And how foolish has it been of him, to think he could force himself to be something else! Of course it would've never worked! Of course it would've just led to pain and self-hatred!
And now, Logan realizes that. He fought all his life, against everything, against Thomas, against himself, because he wasn't allowing himself to truly live. He kept postponing and postponing the moment in which he would've enjoyed life, in preparation of a future and an ideal that he never wanted.
And the worst thing is that he could've died like that, without living a single day of his life, never accepting himself.
While he was actually perfect from the start. He was exactly what he wanted to be: this strange Logic, so curious, so full of feelings, with a deep desire to be an artist.
Now Logan can see it. Now he realizes his imperfections weren't actually imperfections. They were part of him, part of Thomas.
And, as Patton said in POF: "Those imperfections don't make you any less worthy of love".
Embracing imperfections - Not Perfect
The title itself is pretty self-explanatory: Logan has finally realized that his and Thomas' imperfections aren't wrong.
And so, this realization overflows from the whole song: it starts by accepting your planet, your country, your house, until yourself. Nothing is perfect, nothing goes exactly as planned. But that's okay. Even if things aren't perfect, they're still Thomas'. If Thomas is alive on this beautiful blue marble so full of problems, if he lives in his not-perfect country, if he has his good-but-tiny house and his maybe-not-perfect body, it's all because he was gifted with a precious, unique life, who allowed him to experience and enjoy all these things.
So, instead of chasing a perfect ideal, what about stopping and thanking for everything he (and Logan) has?
Curiosity - Human
This song is a perfect, heartwarming reconnection between Logan and his own curiosity. He's approaching it again, he's taking his time to savour it, to enjoy the pure wonder of the marvelous, amazing machine that is the human body.
Listen to how gently, how peacefully the singer lists all amazing things related to the human body: there's no rush, no pain. Just pure, relaxed wonder.
The average human heart will beat over 100 million times in one lifetime I'm sure you'll find someone who won't mind skipping one for you
I think mine skipped a whole lot, because these lines are just so perfect ngghhhh
Forget any superhero that existed before you You my love, are human
So pure, so perfect. That's the wonder in the eyes of a kid, who learns all these amazing things about their body and stares down at themselves and they're like wooooah.
And this is Logan's pure wonder for the beauty of Thomas' humanity. This precious creature, so wonderfully complicated, who gave him life and acceptance.
You never knew that there was enough to be You never knew there was enough to be You obviously don't know A thing
Listen to this song, read all the lyrics and listen to this final part: there's just affection, in every word. No mock, no reproach. Even those last lines sound more like a playful banter: you, silly, you thought there was nothing to be surprised about? But there's everything and even more out there, to see and explore! Even your own body is a wonder of nature!
Logan is finally okay. He's reconciling with himself, he's accepting his own curiosity again. He's allowing himself to be faulty, childish, full of feelings and wonder for life. Because he (and Thomas) have only one life. One wonderful, amazing life to see and know everything.
Accepting everything - Time Adventure
This song is - guess what? - another strange choice. But a curious one. And believe me, it wasn't easy to find the true meaning behind it.
Time is an illusion that helps things make sense So we are always living in the present tense
Let’s start with Einstein, who said "Time is an illusion". Why? Because time is something we created. We decided that days should be divided into 24 hours, that every hour is divided into 60 minutes and 60 minutes are divided into 60 seconds. The word "time" itself comes from an ancient indo european word that means "division". Because that's what we did: we fragmented an endless amount of "something" into hours, minutes, seconds.
But this "something" isn't universal. If we look at the universe, we don't see the present. Why do we have a unit of measurement called "light-year"? What does it mean that a star is, I don't know, 100 light-years away from us? That the light of that star takes 100 years to reach us. So when we look at it, we're actually seeing how the star was 100 years ago. In our present, it may already be dead.
So time isn't constant in the universe. And our concept of time is just our own. We decided to divide time into past, present and future. The past is fixed and can't be changed, while the future is undefined. As time passes, the moment that was once "the present" becomes part of the past, while part of what was "the future" becomes the new present. So there's this concept of "passage of time" forward into the future and leaving the past behind.
But there's also another concept of time that is the opposite of the one above, called Eternalism. Eternalism is a philosophy that says there's no real "passage of time", but time is already ALL present. Past, present and future exist all together, into a four-dimensional "block", that contains everything.
To explain it better, I will quote this person on, who used a perfect metaphor:
"(Time) is like a filmstrip. If you look at it in sequence, one frame at time, it seems as if the future hasn’t happened yet and the past is gone forever. But if you look at all the frames at once, you can see that all the moments in the video exist simultaneously. It’s just the perspective of the projector that causes the illusion that time is flowing."
And that's what these lines are hinting about. The following ones ("Will happen, happening happened") just confirm it: there's no "it was in the past and now it's gone forever", there's no flow. It's all here, it has always been all here.
Okay, what does this have to do with Logan?
If there was some amazing force outside of time to take us back to where we were And hang each moment up like pictures on the wall Inside a billion tiny frames so that we can see it all, all, all
It would look like Will happen, happening happened
If we somehow manage to come back in time ("where we were") and we would be able to see all our past together like a series of pictures, we will see that all those moments are still here. Each moment is part of the same filmstrip.
So now imagine Logan, thinking back about his past. About all the times he suffered, when he has never been listened to, when he forced himself to grow up and when he recovered from his mistake.
Will happen, happening happened And there we are again and again 'Cause you and I will always be back then
Those events are not lost forever. They will always "be back", parts of the same filmstrip.
That's another connection, this time to Nietzche and his philosophy of the Eternal Return. this philosophy says all events in the world are destined to repeat themselves in the same sequence, through an eternal series of cycles.
It sounds terrible, right? Well, according to Nietzsche, it's not. On the contrary, this is the purest affirmation of the will to live, because the one who is strong enough to accept the eternal return, is the one who feels amor fati, "love of one's fate".
According to that, everything that happened in your life, including suffering and loss, is good (or, at least, necessary). Why? Because it's yours, because it shaped you into who you are. Think about your own life: do you think you will be the same person you are today, if you didn't have that bad experience that taught you something or if you never suffered?
No one likes pain, but pain helps you to grow. When you suffer, you learn something. You toughen up, become stronger and next time you're prepared. It takes a colossal amount of courage to be able to face your own life and be willing to experience everything all over again - but it's also an incredibly powerful choice. You are willing to reaffirm yourself, to face the same pain and learn again from it, to overcome the same obstacles, no matter how many times they're trying to stop you. You are willing to be an unstoppable force of nature, because no matter the pain, no matter the bad things, you are willing to face them again, just to overcome them AGAIN.
Can you see what a powerful choice it is? Being strong enough to embrace both good and bad like this? I don't think I would ever be this strong but oh damn if I would love to.
Now imagine Logan again, thinking about his past. This series of events that happened but are not lost - are still present and will forever be, because there's no distinction between past, present and future. They will never disappear forever.
And he... accepts them all. He accepts his pain, all of it. He accepts his mistake. He accepts to repeat the same mistake and suffer the same pain, to learn again from it, over and over.
You and I will always be back then That's why You and I will always be best friends
And the same concept applies for his relationship with Thomas. Logan is ready to repeat everything, again and again, to hate him and insult him, to suffer and not be listened to, because he and Thomas will always be best friends. No matter what happened in that part of time labeled as "past": time is all together, so he and Thomas are ALWAYS best friends. There's no moment in time in which this stopped being true.
And if that is true and he and Thomas are always best friends, that means Thomas has always loved him, even when Logan felt no love at all. Even in his darkest hours, even when he hated himself, Thomas has always been by Logan's side, giving him that love Logan was desperately craving.
And I personally think this is the purest, most beautiful affirmation of friendship and that would be a perfect conclusion, for such a painful arc.
I did it!
I will probably lay on the ground for a while, just to recover.
This analysis has been the most difficult to do (unless Patton will change everything... but I doubt that). Logan has been a real challenge and connecting stuff has never been this hard. Just look at the last song! A scientific/philosophic idea, that led into another philosophic concept, that led to Nietzsche and to amor fati. Damn Logan, take it easy.
But I finished it! Woo-hoo! And now the last one will be dear, sweet, precious Patton with his songs full of hints and feelings. Hope you will join me for the last ride.
Until then, stay safe and take care <3
PS. If someone wants to be added to the taglists, just ask and I’ll add you :)
@willpowerwisps @royalprinceroman @reesiereads @mudpuddlenl @shelby-711 @allmycrushesaredead @aquatedia @sweetkirbi @whatishappeningrightnow  @effortiswhatmatters  @atlasistryingherbest @bella-in-a-bag  @doydoune  @miasheer  @forever-third-wheeling @mishanthropist  @corndot @payte @mcang3l  @geekyapollokid  @kawaiipotatuh  @hypnossanders  @idontreallyknow24  @imcrushedbyarainbow
@riseofthewerewolf @frog-candy-bee @bosspotato01  @rosesandlove44 @methaley @sololad @firey-alex  @sashootkahoot​ @chewy-rubies @groaaaaan  @croftergamer​ @misty-the-girlflux-mess​  @thedevilseyes​  @arya-skywalker​  @csi-baker-street-babes​ @queen-of-all-things-snuggly
@virgildarknessdementiaravenway​ @mishanthropist​  @dracayd-universe​  @unknown-artworks​   @lonelyfangirl453​  @starlightnyx​ @alienvamp-hesitantflowerface​ @stubbornness-and-spite​  @alittletoo-extra​ @averykedavra  @iloveeverytjing123 @bookedforevermore @joyrose-fandomer @anachronismes @the-cloud-14  @mihaela-tbg @igonnatalknothing
@thatoneloudowl​  @grayson-22​  @softangryfuckingdepressed​ @theotherella​  @boopypasta​ @nevenastark​ @varthandi @floofyconfusednerd @nothing-worth-mentioning @mikalya12 @roses-bubbles @cuter-on-the-inside  @coldbookworm  @orchidstanslogan  @snixxxsmythe  @frog-candy-bee  @holleratyour-buoyancy @alexowlndra  @fadingbagelbananapatrol
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babytsum · a year ago
no one knows pt. 2 - m. atsumu
(a/n): my fic rec account reached 700 a few days ago so i wrote a lil one shot and @traferza helped :)))) thank u bro
warnings: soft smut (I did not intend for this to be a smut fit but here we are), fingering, oral (f receiving), penetration
no one knows - m. atsumu
"come on, (y/n)! you haven't seen me play in ages!"
tobio stared back at you with hopeful eyes. your best friend has changed a lot since that last time you hung out with him in high school. his black hair was parted, he was much taller, buffer, too. but he was still that meathead volleyball jock you knew.
"okay, fine. you still the king?"
"no! that's exactly why you need to see me."
the day finally came and you waved to tobio who was sporting his white schweiden adlers jersey. you knew he had changed from his days at karasuno, though you weren't able to see the process firsthand since you moved to tokyo. sadly, you were only able to catch a few of his games whenever karasuno went to nationals.
and when you recognized a certain blonde on the opposing team, you broke a little bit. sure, it had been a few weeks, so of course it's a fresh scar.
but you didn't think it would hurt this much.
you berated yourself for not asking who tobio was playing against, but it was too late for that now. you couldn't leave the game, he was looking forward to you being there after many failed attempts to attend. all you could do was hope that the blonde didn't recognize you in the crowd.
it feels like it was just yesterday that miya atsumu broke your heart in the pouring rain. the awkward silence, the grey sky, the solemn tone of his voice. it was too soon to see him again. it only took the mere sight of him to bring you back.
though, you still gave the adlers a polite cheer with every point they scored. you flashed a few supportive smiles to tobio. you still hugged him after his game, praised his skills that have definitely advanced since the last time you've seen him. you met ushiwaka, who looked terrifying but was actually very polite, and hoshiumi, who was very enthusiastic about your praise.
your reluctance showed when tobio insisted that you go out to lunch with them, which included some of the players in the jackals. you still went, after all, you haven't seen him in awhile. and what were the chances that one of those players was atsumu?
100%. the chances were 100%.
while bokuto and hinata were warm, engaging in your many stories that embarrassed tobio with even sakusa showing slight interest, atsumu was stone cold. he quietly ate his food across from you, only speaking when someone asked if he was okay. he lied, of course, reassuring everyone he was tired.
it was like this for weeks anyways.
though, you ignored him. you ignored the short glances he would give you every now and then. but it was hard for him to do the same with the way you lightly rubbed tobio's shoulder, the way you laughed at his flustered state when you told everyone about how he tried to eat a volleyball. his jaw clenched and his grip on the glass of water tightened.
"miya-san, can you pass the soy sauce, please?"
despite your efforts to be polite, his face still held a stoic expression as he set down the bottle a little too hard. you thanked him, but everyone knew something was wrong.
"thank you."
after you finished an onigiri, you excused yourself outside to take a phone call, using the time to text atsumu to behave. hopefully you weren't blocked, right?
your train of thought was interrupted by the ding of your phone.
meet me at the milk tea place we used to go to after. we need to talk.
damn right you needed to talk.
you went back, enjoying the rest of the lunch with your new friends and your old one. hinata, bokuto, and hoshiumi were a dangerous, but fun mix, not that you were complaining. they were entertaining and you fed into the energy. you noticed that atsumu was a little warmer, talking with everyone else at the table like normal.
"it's nice to see atsumu talking again. he's been a little antisocial these past few weeks and no one knows why." hinata sighed while bokuto nodded in agreement.
atsumu was the one who ended it after all. but at least you weren't the only one hurting, right?
your thoughts took over you again as you imagined what could have been if you just said you loved him right away. if you just told him then and there and been honest. or if you didn't let him leave you in the rain, ran after him, reached for his wrist at the least. but it was too late anyways.
"(y/n)?" hoshiumi waved his hand over your face.
"what, hm?"
"you kind of blanked out for a minute, are you okay?"
"yeah, just a little tired that's all."
eventually, lunch had to end and you greeted the rest of the players goodbye before you left. tobio pulled you into a close hug while you wrapped your arms around him, bringing him closer and planting a kiss on his cheek.
"come to another game, okay? or else i'll tell ushiwaka what you said about him when you saw him on the tv."
"tobio, with all due respect, shut the fu-"
you gave him another kiss on the cheek before you parted ways.
the milk tea place wasn't far, atsumu should have been there by now considering that he actually has a car. and you were right, he was at the same corner that you two always sat at, your favorite drink set on the table. as you approached, your legs started to feel heavy, but you brought yourself to sit across from him anyways.
"so you move fast." you scoffed.
"what do you mean?"
"you have a thing for setters or something, (y/n)?"
"i have no idea what the fuck you're talking about."
he sighed, looking down at the drink in his hands. months of secret hook ups, small dates, and it only took you a few weeks to get over him. it was selfish, but he had hoped you would feel at least a bit of pain. maybe if he knew you cried, even gotten a little frustrated, it would be a sign that he meant something to you.
"tobio is my best friend. he has been since we were in diapers. why would you even care?"
"because," atsumu sighed in frustrated, "because it's supposed to be me making you laugh like that, kissing yer cheek and shit."
"if i recall correctly, you rejected me after the game."
"because i was fucking frustrated at you! i don't know, maybe it was a little fucked up, but i fucking loved you and you didn't say it back!"
"miya-san, you know why it takes a lot for me."
ah, yes. he remembers the first time you opened up, your head laying on his bare chest, hands stroking your hair, small circles being rubbed on his arm. he remembered how warm your body was, the tears on his chest. he remembered it all. he remembered your apologies, your rambles about your past, everything you were insecure about.
miya atsumu had the memory of an elephant, but he struggles to respond when confronted with overwhelming emotion.
"so we're not on first name basis anymore?"
"that's all you have to say?"
you felt the lump in your throat, the tears welling up in your eyes. but you didn't want to let this asshole see you cry, so instead you look at your feet, attempting to compose yourself.
"wait, i'm sorry-"
"i'm leaving."
and so you stood up and made your way towards the door, but not without atsumu's protests. you were a few steps out when you felt him grab your wrist. you might as well listen to everything he has to say. maybe you'd get closure or something. after all, he was the first person you opened up to after everything that happened with your ex. you thought he would be different, but he made it clear that you weren't worth his time anymore. why were you still listening to him again?
"i love you and you don't have to say it back but hear me out," he took another breath before continuing, "i know it was fucked up of me to just not say it back after it took you a day, but i think it was just because i was hurt and i didn't know what i was saying. i'm sorry."
"miya-san, i don't know if i can believe anything you say after that."
"and i don't blame you, it was kind of my fault, i just wanted you to say it right away even if you didn't come to terms with your feelings. i was selfish and i don't want to hurt you again."
tsumu looked tired, a little out of breath, a little beat. did you do that? as much as you loved him, it hurt to see him like this. it hurt even more to know it was partially your fault. you hoped it was from the game he had just played an hour or two ago, but you knew better.
"what do you want me to do with that?"
"i want to start over. i don't care how long it takes for you to love me again. just give me another chance, i don't mind the wait anymore."
his hand was on your cheek now, you could feel his breath on your face. and just this once, you didn't think it would hurt to give in. tsumu was never good with his words, but maybe this time was an exception.
and you answer him with a chaste kiss on his warm lips and he brings you closer, cupping your face in his big hands. before you know it, you're in his car feeling giddy, a big smile plastered on your faces.
the familiarity of his apartment overcame your senses. the smell of the tropical candles he liked, the messes of blankets on his couch that you never minded but ended up folding anyways, the taste of his skin. it was all familiar.
and you loved it.
he carried you to his room bridal style, gently laying you down on his bed before taking off his shirt. he helped you out of your clothes until you were left in your underwear as he left open mouthed kisses all over you chest.
"i missed you."
"i can tell." you responded, pointing at his obvious boner in his underwear.
"shut up."
you let out a giggle until he rubbed at your clothed clit, making your breath hitch. he pulled down your underwear agonizingly slow and nipped at the sweet spot on your neck. his touch was familiar. he was warm, like home, and you felt safe.
"i'm sorry for letting you go." he gave an apologetic kiss on your lips before slowly inserting his fingers into you.
you let out an embarrassingly loud moan at the feeling of his fingers nudging the spongy spot in you that he was able to find every time. his tongue licked up to your clit, his fingers thrusting into you at a slow pace which he quickly sped up with the pace of his mouth on your nub. your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer into your heat.
atsumu obliged, replacing his fingers with his tongue. the wet muscle dipping into your slit, lapping up all of your slick. you were close, the heat building up in your lower belly, your walls convulsing. you were out of breath and when he let out a hum that vibrated against you, you were sent over the edge. you eyes rolled to the back of your head as he let you ride out your orgasm on his tongue.
he kissed back up your body before his lips landed on your once again. you wanted him closer and your wish was granted when he fully sheathed himself inside of you without warning.
"you're so good to me," he rambled in your ear, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he pounded into you, "you sound so pretty."
tears filled your eyes while you kept a strong grip on his bicep. you were overwhelmed, both by the sweet things he said and the way his cock stretched you out perfectly. even though it was only weeks, it still felt so long since you were together like this. you missed him.
your legs wrapped around him, barely giving him space to move, but he worked with it, still keeping up his relentless pace. your walls fluttered around him as your grip on him got tighter and you knuckles turned white. he was close, you can tell by the way his thrusts were becoming more and more sloppy and how his groans turned into whines.
"look at me."
and when you came, he made sure you were looking at his face which was red, sweaty, and carried a soft expression. he was pretty and you were sure that you didn't make a mistake coming back to his apartment.
when you both came down from your highs, your face was buried in the crook of his neck and his arm was wrapped around you. soft circles were rubbed on your back as you placed a few kisses where you could. he placed one on the top of your sweaty head.
"you don't have to say-"
"i love you."
he grinned back at you while you looked up at his glossy brown eyes. your hand wiped away some of the tears that fell from his eyes at your confession and a sense of euphoria passed through the both of you, the hurt slowly fading away with each passing moment.
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klance-fics · 5 months ago
Hmm got any recs for wrong number/texting fics?? 👀
i loooove those yes i have a bunch actually
i usually only post completed fics its like my rule but "this is so sad paladins form voltron" was discontinued. however klance happened in the fic before it got discontinued and its actually my fav so im adding it anyway
you never stood a chance
lance to hunk ♡
>i’m gonna fukin die hunk oh mygod i sent
>keith a work out selfie that i wan supposed to fcukin send to you and you know what it said
(Or, Keith is beautiful, Lance has a crush, and there's lots of shirtless selfies)
teamwork makes the meme work
Allura creates a groupchat for the newfound members of the Gender-Sexuality Alliance club at Voltron University. Everything goes downhill from there.
Why was I never considered
You know why.
For fuck’s sake
You shank a guy once and suddenly you’re “violent” and have “anger issues”
keith you;re gonna make me piss my pantsnhdjkljdhjh
build a paper plane (to float to you)
“Would it make you feel better if I introduced myself to Shiro’s neighbours?”
“It would make me feel better if you had told me that you were going to be alone this winter break.” Lance grumbles lowly.
“I’m telling you now.”
Lance rubs his hand over his face, tries not to sound frustrated. “Why are you telling me now?”
Keith falters, thinks over his words. Lance bets he doesn’t know why he’s telling him now either. “Because I thought you should know.” He finally settles on. Because you can’t do anything about it.
In which Lance travels across 1,681 kilometers, sees the sky and the water meet for the first time, and falls in more ways than one.
voltron is a meme
Group Message to: Lance and +9 972-888-2022
Lance: shut the fuck up
+9 972-888-2022: i haven’t even said anything yet!
+9 972-888-2022: rude
Pidge: say that to my face
Lance: if you can make HUNK a PHONE then you can make ME a PROPER FACE LOTION
Pidge: gdi lance lotion isn’t the same as technology
Lance: i fucking hate u
Lance: you CAN’T tell me you can build a phone out of nothing and not even make me a lotion
Pidge: i don’t even know what goes IN lotion
Pidge: i haven’t moisturized a day in my life
Lance: you Take That Back
In which Team Voltron canonically gets a group chat, Lance hates change, memes are sacred, and Keith and Lance's crushes are obvious to everyone except them.
This is So Sad Paladins Form Voltron
Princess: What is this Mario Kart?
gos: it’s a video game where you race one another in little cars
Dunce Dunce Revolution: excuSE ME
gos: not again
Dunce Dunce Revolution: did you just call mario kart a /video game/
Dunce Dunce Revolution: a mere /video game/?
Pidgeon: blocked and reported
Kogayne: never speak to me or my husband ever again
Kogayne removed gos from the chat
OR: a post season-7 chat fic because I couldn't find any
FEATURING: pining, of the klance, romellura, and adashatt varieties; wholesome family bonding; the MFes as well as our alien friends, and an unholy amount of memes.
it's actually mostly memes.
ladies and gentlemen we are rocking in space
do u like the taste of spam, van kieu
because thats what ull get
1 glorious terabyte of def-not-garrison-approved viewing matl
every hour on d hour
And now you’re blackmailing me. Wonderful.
Look, I’ll tell you, alright?
Not because your threat scares me, but because I’d like to cut this conversation as short as humanly possible.
glad ur being so cooperative ;) ;)
Lance gets a new flight simulation partner. Lance makes a bunch of mixtapes. Lance falls in love?
Galaxy Garrison + texting au. For the Klance Zine!
Instructions Not Included
Keith glanced back toward the front door of his apartment, half hoping the cat’s owner or someone would suddenly bang on the door and give him an explanation. But the door remained silent, and Keith sighed, turning back to the cat. She was now licking her paws, seemingly completely unconcerned with her new environment.
“Don’t suppose you could explain what’s going on.”
The cat looked up at him, her gold eyes studying his, then she dipped her head and coughed up a hairball at Keith’s feet.
Keith wrinkled his nose. “Guess not.”
Keith ends up with an unexpected guest over the holidays.
you walked in, and i couldn't look away
Lance has a staring problem. Keith hates it and confronts him about it. Lance falls for him, literally, and then... they become sort-of friends.
Funky Lesbian changed group name “Voltrons bitches” to “Voltron is just furry propaganda”
The paladins of Voltron are on their way home. PIdge installed a texting / messaging system into their lions and now they can communicate on the way home.
Pidge did not think this through and now Lance keeps messaging about his crush on Keith.
Inspired by this tumblr post : I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. A guy asked me what the Spanish word for tortilla was once and now I dream of kissing him under the moonlight
hello neighbor
[8:08 PM]: you’re at work at 8 at night? where do you work?
[8:08 PM]: why would i tell you that
and don’t say because we’re number neighbors
[8:09 PM]: UGHHH
i thought we were having a moment
[8:09 PM]: over what?? i know nothing about you
[8:09 PM]: well let’s change that shall we
the name’s lance
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frogtanii · 6 months ago
i think tumblr ate the ask i sent yesterday ➖👄➖ is this what pain feels like? (its 🔮 btw HAHAHAHA)
first of all, listen bestie, i know i tell you to get enough sleep, 8 hours and all that, AND I WAS GONNA GO TO BED I SWEAR but then i was brainstorming ideas and shi, and it was 2am where im at before i realized it, and i cackled evily when i saw that you posted the new pf chapter.
i n h a l e s
this is gonna be all over the place, this is your fair warning HAHAHAHAHA.
osamu, that isnt a happy, committed relationship hun- YEAH SO WHAT IF Y/N HAS A HAREM, AT LEAST THEYRE HAPPY AND COMMITTED!
i was really feeling the chapter but then i started giggling at the 'meiko rubbing off her makeup on osamu's black shirt in an attempt to comfort him' lanzjsnsj HAHAHAHAHA.
but do i feel bad for him? yes, i do, but did he deserve that one? yes he did.
im not exactly sure why he'd blame y/n for the breach in his and atsumu's relationship? i mean, osamu is pretty nasty to y/n in front of the other members, and atsumu is a witness to how much of an asshole his brother can be towards her, so maybe his shitty attitude is the reason his brother doesnt like him?? didnt he ever consider that?? i dont recall y/n ever talking shit about the other members (except meiko, she deserves it) behind their back-
(i went, "oh, there's daichi" while reading aknxjsn)
also, i get that osamu got mad, but thats not really a reason to corner someone like that. i suppose, yes he regrets it, but that doesnt change the fact that y/n was actually, genuinely scared of him and what he could have done to hurt her in a place she could have, and should have considered a home. same goes for what the other guys did, and theyre making up for it.
"....i don’t know what’s happening and i don’t know what to tell you to make you leave me alone,” made me tear up a little, the girl seemed really scared. it sucks to think that people actually go through that in real life.
(its hella shitty to feel scared in a place youre supposed to feel safe in 🥺)
i love the character and the way you wrote and portrayed him, but good riddance, he should be ashamed. he didnt have a justifiable reason to do that to y/n.
also i want atsumu hugs 🥺 like the touch starved lunatic
NEXT POINT, that one anon is right though, and idk if i should be thanking your other anons or what, because they make me question everthing i know in pf- but WHAT IF SOMEONE HAD AN STD AND SHE ACTED AS A CARRIER AND PASSED IT ON TO EVERYONE?
#saveyachi2021, it hasnt been a full week yet has it? HAHAHAHAHAH
im gonna stop here and actually go to bed, and i dont have any headcanons at the moment, but i do have gossip about myself, lowkey a cry for help 😙✌️
i recently tried reaching out to this guy i had a crush on 2 years ago, and im classmates with him now. i have 2 friends who are friends with him and they were the ones who convinced me to chat him. obvi, its not a consistent chatting thing, its been about 2 days. BUT MY FRIENDS HAVE CONVINCED ME THAT HES LOWKEY HUSBAND MATERIAL OKAY?? I COULDNT RESIST, LIKE HE WANTS A ONE AND DONE RELATIONSHIP LASTING ALL THE WAY TO MARRIAGE OR WHATEVER attachment/commitment/abandonment issues are very confused, BUT THATS NOT THE POINT. do i want something to happen? yes, but im scared of my feelings 🤡
and they say hes nice, and hardworking, and that he and i would be a good couple but idk skndjsndjj 😭
i hope you had enough sleep! 🤨📷
and a filling meal! its good for your body 🤨📷
and some water! stay hydrated! 🤨📷 HEALTH SHOULD ALSO BE YOUR PASSION!
remember that we love yoy froggy! and im glad you decided to take weekend breaks! rest is good for the soul, mind and body 😌
much baddie energy and good vibes! 💘
HEY BADDIE KEJEK because my brain is Not Working, i can barely respond to like 90% of what u sent but!!! i read it all n i LOVE U <3333 also ooo a mans :000 i hope that goes well for u!!!! n if it doesn’t i’ll beat him up for not taking u as a catch wink wonk ;))) sending the baddie vibes right back at u <333
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Tumblr media
U N P L A N N E D, part 1
There was one other time when you found yourself like this. Just once. 
In a bathroom stall in your college dorm room, your roommate on the other side with bated breath. What’s it say? She had asked, her voice echoing off the beige tiles that spilled into the messy living room, littered with solo cups and stale tortilla chips.
This time you were alone. No roommate on the other side of the door, no beige tile. Instead, a clean, white bathroom nestled on the third floor of the Los Angeles Facebook office. 
The white plastic stick in your hand, this time, showed a tiny plus sign. A light pink symbol of what was usually happiness. But alone in the bathroom at work didn’t feel like a happy place. 
You stared down at it, wondering if the tears in your eyes were responsible for the blurring of the result. You shook it, wiped at your eyes, and checked again. Still positive. 
So you capped it and tossed it into the top drawer of your desk a few minutes later, more than happy to pretend that it wasn’t a looming disaster. A life-changing, career-altering disaster. 
When it burned a hole in your drawer, begging you to open it and pray that the plus sign had changed, you decided to text Lexi. 
Y/N L/N (3:34pm): Broke down and took a test. 
You put your phone face down, hoping that an impending text from your roommate wouldn’t create a higher heart rate than what was already pounding in your ears. You tried to take a few breaths. 
This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t the way you pictured life and it certainly wasn’t the way you pictured your summer. When the phone buzzed next to your mouse, you grabbed it so quickly you almost dropped it to the floor. 
Lexi MacMillan (3:35pm): And??
Y/N L/N (3:35pm): Positive.
You stared at the screen, watched as the three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again, and then vanished. You imagined Lexi sitting on set, maybe in her dressing room or maybe right beside her co-star, typing and erasing, typing and erasing. 
You ignored the email that came through on your computer, likely a request from a team member to edit one of your last images, this marketing campaign is due at 5pm! This marketing campaign was also the furthest thing from your mind right now. 
Your phone started buzzing in your hand, a picture of Lexi with big white sunglasses splashed itself across the screen. You answered it quickly, holding a hand up to your mouth to keep your voice low and your words private.
“Hi,” you said, heading back for the bathroom that was around the corner from your office. 
“What the actual fuck, dude? Are you serious?”
“Yes--why would I lie about that? Do you think I’m that twisted?!”
She let out a noise of exasperation. “No, I just--I don’t know--I thought you were being paranoid or some shit! I didn’t think it was actually possible!”
“Me neither,” you said, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the cool metal. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright. People get false positives all the time, right?”
Her voice was suddenly more relaxed than it had been, like she realized how serious this was and how fucked you were. 
“I think people get false negatives,” you replied, defeated.
“Okay, well, you can take another test tonight.”
“And then if it’s still positive, you have to go to the doctor. That’s the first thing.”
“They’ll do another test there,” she informed you. 
“Uh huh.”
You thought back to your most recent sexual encounter, half drunk and giggly, white linens and sneaking out when he was asleep on top a memory foam pillow. Lexi already made it home, she was high on the couch with a bag of pretzels when you sauntered in at 4am. You made pizza bagels and laughed until sunrise about the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in what felt like ages. 
I don’t know how you made it that long, she said. You must have an extremely low sex drive. 
Or you just have a high one, you laughed. You’re always horny. 
You didn’t think about it again for weeks. Okay, that was a lie. The drinks were good and the sex had been even better. Lexi had dragged you along to the party even though you knew all the players. You had deadlines for days coming up and a Sunday night didn’t seem like a good time to end up drunk somewhere near Laurel Canyon. But you went anyway.
The first time you realized something might be off was when you were a day late. It never happened. You lived your life on schedule and your period followed the rules--it was no exception. It typically came in the morning, and by bedtime, you were only a bit concerned. You went to sleep with confidence that you’d wake up to it. 
The second day came and went, too. Lexi put on her OBGYN hat and assured you that it was nothing to worry about. Women are late all the time, uteruses have a mind of their own, really. 
Days three and four were busy at work. Five and six were spent finalizing ideas for a new commercial campaign for a product launch, dinner with Lexi and Glenne. It wasn’t until the seventh day, when the light purple app on your phone gave a gentle nudge. Be sure to log your period! 
There was no way you’d miss it altogether. You’d been careful and you watched him toss the condom into a garbage bin in the bathroom through tired eyes. He fell asleep beside you while he traced a circle on your skin--you were sure you’d never hear from him. 
So you slipped out in the early morning light and took an Uber home, knowing that while it might not mean anything, it was at least a story to tell your close friends and to keep tucked away in your mind. 
“Okay--I have to go,” Lexi said suddenly. “Derek’s being a dumbass today and can’t get his fucking lines right, so, I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay,” you said, voice small, blurry-eyed again. You let yourself slump down to the floor, at least thankful that this time, the tile wasn’t beige. 
You did your best to make it through the rest of the day, playing Lexi’s words over and over in your head. People get false positives all the time! You weren’t so sure, but telling yourself that seemed to quell the nausea. 
Traffic was heavy on the way home, sunglasses pushed up on your face and radio high enough to drown out your thoughts. You parked your car on the same leaf-littered street in Century City, walked the block to your apartment, and dropped your bag on the floor before heading for the bathroom. 
Lexi keyed in right after you sat down, water on to induce the stream of urine that you had prayed for the whole way home. 
“Hi,” she said, pushing her sunglasses off of her face and dropping her keys on the kitchen counter. She let out a small laugh at the sight of you: pants around your ankles, hair up in a scrunchie, pink plastic cap in your mouth as you held the second stick between your legs. 
The afternoon sunshine danced through the window, a breeze from the open sliding door felt like sweet relief in your stuffy first floor apartment.
“Hi,” you breathed out, flushing and pulling up your pants before capping the test and putting it on the counter. 
She took a few steps towards you, her eyes wider than usual. “How long does it take to show up?” 
“I don’t know--a minute or two, maybe? The first one was quick.”
She came over and stood beside you, her eyes on the tiny window where the result would appear. She crossed her arms and leaned over, letting her shoulder bump into yours. 
There was one line forming, like fog fading in the early morning, the other came into view as the two of you stood side by side. You let out a shaky breath--tears in your eyes again when she turned to see you. 
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not the end of the world.”
You didn’t say anything in response, but a few sobs escaped through your lips when she wrapped her arms around you. She smoothed your hair with her hand and eventually brought you back to the kitchen, pulling two beers out of the fridge and setting them on the counter as she rummaged through a drawer for a bottle opener.
“I can’t have that!” You said, pointing at it like it was poison, mascara smudged beneath your eyes.
“Oh fuck,” she said, a small laugh from her mouth pulled one from yours, too. “Damn--sorry, it just--felt like a good option.”
“It would be,” you said. “Typically.”
She was quiet for a second. “Is it his?”
You shrugged, staring at the shade of dark red polish on your nails. “Has to be, right?”
“You haven’t had sex with anyone else?” 
She asked as if she didn’t know. You shook your head. 
She sighed. “That, uh, that makes it a bigger deal.”
“I know--I don’t even--what am I supposed to do? Call him up and tell him? I don’t even have his number.”
“Maybe we should call Glenne.”
“No!” You said quickly, shaking your head with force. “Don’t bring her into it yet. She’ll just tell Jeff and I need to figure shit out first.”
Lexi bit her lip, torn between the two options. She’d known Glenne since they were kids, they grew up down the street from each other in Sherman Oaks and when they got drunk enough, they tried to remember the super secret handshake they’d made up in the 8th grade. 
You’d met Glenne plenty of times in college, especially after Lexi became a more permanent fixture in your life. You’d met Lexi at resident assistant training the fall of your sophomore year, but you still had no clue how adults trusted her to be in charge of eighteen students each semester. 
The party was at Glenne’s house--the one she shared with her boyfriend Jeff. You’d met him a handful of times, too, but you typically opted out of the dinner parties or cocktail hours that Lexi invited you to. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t like her friends. They’d always been nice and welcoming, but being the one person not involved in the entertainment industry normally left you feeling like the odd man out. 
What's the latest at Facebook? They’d ask, gathered around a table with wine glasses in hand. 
You’d give them the update, tell them about whatever marketing campaign you’d been working on or whatever new feature you’d helped with, but the conversation always made it’s way back to music or acting or something in between. 
Glenne worked for Apple Music in artist relations, her boyfriend for a prominent artist management firm. Lexi MacMillan, a self-proclaimed B-list actress in a new Netflix series, fit right into their world of Teslas and hedge fund investments. 
She never liked to admit that she came from money, and she was more than humble about the uneven split in your rent or the fact that she often paid for groceries. Your salary at Facebook was good--more than a lot of your other friends who had graphic design and marketing degrees, but it was small in comparison to the type of money the rest of them were pulling in. 
“Well she’s gonna be the easiest way to get in touch with him.”
“I know,” you waved a hand and took a seat at the island. “Just, not yet. I mean, don’t you think I’ll need proof? I can’t just show up on his doorstep and say: ‘hey, remember me? I’m your manager’s girlfriend’s friend’s friend and we had sex one time at your house in late April and now I’m pregnant?’”
She stifled a laugh, nodding as if it was a good idea, her tone completely serious. “I mean personally I would love to see you do that.”
“Well, I’m not,” you said firmly. “There must be rules for this type of shit. I don’t know the etiquette.”
“You mean the baby mamma etiquette?”
You shot her a look, narrowed eyes before you let your forehead rest on the counter, a groan from your lips. “My life is over, Lexi--this is seriously the worse thing that can happen.”
She brought the beer bottle up to her lips to take a swig. “Which is why we should call Glenne.”
“I have to go to the doctor first, okay? That way we don’t stir up any shit without really knowing if they’re right or not.” You motioned over your shoulder to the test you’d left behind on the bathroom counter. The other, from earlier, was still in the side pocket of your work bag. 
Lexi nodded, brown eyes with a new shade of sympathy. 
A woman bounced her baby on her knee, big blue eyes looked up at the two of you, nervous and caving inward in the waiting room chairs. 
“Do they all stare like that?” Lexi leaned over and whispered, her gaze fixed on the tiny human beside you. 
“I don’t know,” you said quickly, hoping she wouldn’t make any other remarks. She didn’t--quickly distracted by the nurse who called your name and greeted you both with a smile.
You stood, walked forward and ignored the nervousness in your stomach. Lexi was following behind, she’d been positive and upbeat in the car as if heading over to the gynecologist for what you’d both been referring to as a legit test was a typical Wednesday morning errand. 
“Are you her partner?” The nurse smiled over at her when she pointed at a chair in the hallway for you to sit in. She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around your arm when Lexi pulled her head back. 
“No, just her roommate.”
“Just my roommate,” you nodded, repeating her words as if that’d ease the tension in your muscles. 
The nurse smiled, scribbled a few numbers on a post-it and before handing you a small, plastic cup. You disappeared into the bathroom and realized you’d never thought so much about pee in your entire life. When you were done, you walked back to the small room that the same nurse pointed you towards to find Lexi in the small visitor’s chair beside the paper-lined exam table.
She looked up quickly, a life-like plastic uterus was in her hands. “I maybe broke it.”
“Put it down,” you ordered, rolling your eyes at her childlike curiosity. “Let’s just get in and get out, okay?”
“Knock knock!” A voice from the doorway, Laura Weston, red hair and blue eyes. Her white coat covered a pink blouse, one that matched the color of blush on her cheeks. “Good to see you, Y/N--who’s this?”
Lexi extended her hand and smiled. “Lexi MacMillan, roommate and moral support, nice to meet you.”
“So I hear there’s a possibility of pregnancy?” Dr. Weston sat down on a rolling stool, picked up the chart on the counter and flipped through some pages. She closed it, waited a second, and offered a smile when you didn’t answer. “How are you doing?”
You nodded, licked at your lips, and then met her gaze. “Been better.”
You’d been seeing Dr. Weston for a while--you found her card in the health services building on campus during your Freshman year. Now, a whole seven years later, her smile was a calming presence in a moment of fear and uncertainty. 
“Well, note says you’ve taken two tests, and they were both positive?”
You nodded again. “Just a drugstore brand, though. I don’t know how accurate they are.”
She tilted her head side to side, lifted her shoulders a bit when she rolled towards the counter. “They’re good enough--we’re running the urine sample now and that’ll give a good idea, too. Would you like to do a blood test to be sure?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Let’s do that.”
“Okay,” she nodded, “I’ll have Justine order that for the lab downstairs.” She produced a paper wheel diagram, the colors of the rainbow seemed to distinguish different parts of a typical menstrual cycle. “When was your last period?”
Lexi handed over your phone. “April, the middle of the month. I was due eight days ago.” You pulled up the app that now seemed like less of a friend and more of a source of shame. You were proud of how well you knew your cycle. You could typically tell when you were ovulating, knew enough about your PMS symptoms to know what to expect. 
“And do you know when the possible date of conception was?”
“April 18th,” a tinge of red on your cheeks. “That’s the only possibility.”
So sure, maybe you weren’t the most sexually active human on the planet. Maybe you were slightly embarrassed that the first time you had sex in a good eleven months resulted in a possible pregnancy. 
She scribbled something on a piece of paper, just like the nurse had. A knock on the door that Dr. Weston had shut behind her. The same nurse delivered another post-it note. Pink this time, not blue like before. Dr. Weston took it in her hands and then looked up at you, an unreadable look on her face when the nurse quietly left the room.
“That urine sample read positive, too.”
You didn’t mean to do it again, but another shaky breath left your mouth and Lexi was on her feet, a hand rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort. You wiped at your face, feeling guilty for the outburst of emotion. 
Plenty of people wished and hoped and prayed for this moment. They dreamed about it and tried for years to have this moment. And you’d been stupid enough to stumble your way into it. Ahead of schedule, unprepared, and unplanned. 
“I’ll order the bloodwork and you can do that on your way out--just to be sure. But take some time and when that result comes back we can talk about some options.”
You nodded--her words were a jumble of sounds that you couldn’t really comprehend. She offered a smile and left the two of you alone, Lexi still standing beside you.
“Let’s go do the bloodwork, okay? We can get ice cream when we’re finished!” 
You nodded, wiping your cheeks again before hopping down from the table. You knew she’d keep her word. 
The sunny California sky and a cone of soft-serve from McDonald’s made the afternoon somewhat better. You worked from home and went to bed exhausted, almost feeling detached from reality. 
You talked with Lexi that night about having Glenne over for dinner. It’d been a few weeks since you’d seen her, drinks after work one night to celebrate Lexi’s show getting signed for a second season. So when she knocked on the door of your apartment the next evening, Lexi opened it with a big smile. 
“Hi, hi,” she said, opening her arms in greeting. “Look at your beautiful face,” she pinched Glenne’s cheek between her thumb and forefinger. 
Glenne laughed and pushed her hand away, leaning around Lexi’s shoulder to see you in the kitchen. “She’s high already?”
“No,” you laughed, “she just loves you.”
Glenne made her way past her friend, offering you a hug before she set her purse on the counter. She’d always been so poised--perfect, clear skin, hair that was always flawlessly colored and cut. She took a seat on one of the stools and put her chin in her hands, “please tell me you have margarita mix.”
Lexi laughed, rounding the kitchen counter and heading for the fridge. “Oh, do we!”
“Tacos are on the way,” you said, reaching for glasses from above the sink. 
Mexican was always the go-to. You’d moved in with Lexi after college, and when Glenne ended up living only a short drive away, take-out became a regular reason for a get together. 
“How’s life?” Glenne stared up at you. “I’ve been so busy which is why I had to cancel on that movie last week. But--what have you been up to?”
Her question was pointed at you. While you and Glenne were definitely friends, you trusted that she communicated with Lexi a lot more regularly about life updates. 
You cleared your throat, ignored the awkward glance that Lexi shot in your direction when she reached for the tequila above the fridge. “Same old, you know. Just work, and stuff.”
Okay, so lying wasn’t a strong suit. You forced a smile and turned to Lexi, hoping she’d jump in with a hilarious story or funny remark. She was too busy lining up the cups, ready to distribute the liquor. 
You looked back to Glenne. “Uh, I wanted to talk to you actually.”
That got Lexi to turn around. Her eyes were wide, lips parted as if she was thinking oh, you’re doing it right now? 
“Remember in April, at that party--” You trailed off, referencing it as if it was ages ago. 
“The album wrap?”
“Yeah, when I, you know, got laid for the first time in a while?”
She laughed, looking up at you with an amused smile. “Yeah?”
Glenne had been the most excited about your rendezvous that evening. When she’d first introduced you the two of you, she made your promise you wouldn’t get all weird around him. Apparently people did that. You laughed it off and tried to ignore him at the other end of the dinner table--an Italian restaurant in Studio City for her birthday last fall. He showed up twenty minutes late.
Lexi was still now, tequila on the counter, she wore nothing but a pair of shorts and a tube top in the afternoon heat. Glenne was impatient, the smile fading from her face when you broke eye contact with her for a second. 
She tilted her head to the side. “What? You’re freaking me out.”
“I’m, uh, I’m actually pregnant.”
Quiet. Outside the windows, the setting sun illuminated a hazy Los Angeles dusk. Kids swam in a pool at the house next door, their laughter was muffled through the sliding door out to your patio. It felt strange to say it like that. Up until this morning, the word possibly had been sprinkled in, a safe and reassuring disclaimer. 
“You’re joking,” she said, readjusting in her seat, the color drained from her tan skin.
You swallowed. “I’m not.”
She looked over to Lexi, then brought her gaze back to you. “And you’re saying it’s his?”
You rolled your eyes a little. “He’s literally the only person I’ve had sex with in the last year.” Lexi came over to the counter to stand beside you. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the smooth granite. Glenne just stared at you, still in disbelief.
“I took two home tests on Tuesday and went to the doctor yesterday.” 
What you didn’t tell her is that you cried this morning when the email came through, new test results available from Dr. Weston’s office! Positive. Both the urine and the blood test. There was no denying it now--even if you wanted to. 
“Holy fuck,” she said. “Holy fucking shit. This is not good, you guys.”
“Don’t, Glenne,” Lexi stood back up and shook her head, making a face at her friend. “She’s already freaked the fuck out and she won’t stop fucking crying, okay? She doesn’t need you to add to that.”
You tried to swallow the emotion now, heat to your cheeks when Glenne rolled her eyes.
“I’m not trying to add to it--I’m just--I have no clue how they’ll take that.”
You knew who she was referring to. His team. The people around him who’d made sure, for all this time, that something like this never happened. 
She let out a sigh and looked up at you again. She stood from her seat and rounded the counter. “I’m sorry--I just--are you okay? How are you feeling?” She hugged you, it felt more obligatory than genuine. “You haven’t told him, have you? Does he know?! Jeff doesn’t know!”
“No--you two are the only people who know. I haven’t even told my mom.”
Glenne’s arms still encircled you, Lexi stepped over and hugged you both, a kitchen group hug. “This means more tequila for us, Glenney.”
“You’re fucked up,” she laughed in response, pulling away and looking at Lexi. 
It was quiet for a second, that was Lexi’s cue to make them both a margarita. Glenne went to sit back down, immediately going into business mode when she clasped her hands on top of the counter.
She took a deep breath, you were unsure if that was for your benefit or her own. “So--okay. Where are you at with it all?”
“Are you asking if I’m, like, excited? I am not excited. This is not how my life is supposed to go.”
“Oh enough with the plan, will you?” Lexi rolled her eyes and poured the liquor into two matching glasses, nonchalance lacing her voice. 
“Well forgive me for ideally wanting to find a partner before having a baby,” you shot back at her. 
“That’s not what I mean,” she turned around. “It’s just--I dunno, dude, you’re always so hard on yourself if something doesn’t go according to the plan. I get it--this is a big one, but, stressing over your plan isn’t gonna help.”
Glenne nodded, almost reluctant to side with Lexi. “I’ve heard about the plan. You are obsessed with the plan.”
“I’m not obsessed with it,” you retorted. “I just have a good sense of how I want my life to go.”
Had. You changed the verb tense in your mind. You had a good sense, until now. 
“Well, are you...gonna keep it?” Glenne’s question was innocent, her eyes searched your face as soon as the words left her mouth, she looked nervous, like she didn’t know if it was okay to ask.
A tired voice. “I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I haven’t even thought that far.”
She nodded. “You have to tell him. Have you even talked to him at all since then?”
“No,” you laughed. “It was only, like, a month ago.”
“He didn’t text or call?” she pulled her head back in surprise.
You shrugged. “No. I wasn’t expecting that. Why? Did he mention me?”
“It came up once or twice, yeah.”
“With who?”
“With me and Jeff--and Lexi.”
You turned to your roommate, narrowed eyes when she delivered the drinks. You knew she’d seem him once since then--a brunch one morning before Glenne left town for business. 
“I told you about it--he just said you were nice and that we should all hang out,” she mimicked his accent, earning a laugh from Glenne.
“That wasn’t the first time you met him, though, right?” Glenne pulled the glass to her lips, took a sip and then made a face. “Jesus, strong enough?”
“I figured you might need it since your boyfriend is about to be hella upset.”
“Thank you, thanks for that,” you made a face at her. “But no--” you turned back to Glenne to answer her question. “I met him at your birthday party last year--in Studio City.”
“Right,” she nodded. The doorbell rang and Lexi went to greet the delivery person, or, more so, the tacos. 
“But listen, you can’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t even know what I’m gonna do yet.”
She closed her eyes, made a face that told you it was going to be hard to keep her mouth shut. You leaned forward and lowered your voice, hoping to convey how serious this was. “Give me a few days to just--to talk to him first.”
She dropped your gaze, bit at her lip. You knew it was a big ask. Don’t tell your boyfriend something that is about to make his life a living hell. 
“Please, Glenne.”
She let out a long sigh, one that sounded like it was slowly deflating her lungs, tired and unsure. “Fine,” she said. “But you’ve got to get in touch with him then--like, soon.”
You nodded, Lexi reappeared from the front door with a box in her hands and a smile on her face. “Okay--two for each of us and plenty of guac to go around.”
“So,” Glenne pursed her lips. “Need his phone number?”
It felt like one of those dreams you couldn’t wake up from. Like a cloud that looms over the city when everyone is dying for a sunny day. 
You ignored the two phone calls from your mom you got in the span of three days--quick to text her some excuse about work or being busy with something at home. It felt too soon to tell her. You didn’t even know what he’d say or what he’d think or do or feel and the last thing you wanted to do was get a bunch of people involved in this before you even knew what to expect. 
There were a few options, in terms of what his response might be. Glenne had continued to prep you that night in your kitchen, the more margaritas in her the more she accepted that she was now complicit. In moments it felt normal, laughing and talking and then watching a stupid youtube video of some kid falling off of skateboard. 
But when you went to bed and then woke up, realizing that no amount of sleep would change the current predicament, you decided that maybe it was time to get in touch with him. 
You had no clue when or how or where. Over text? On the phone? Lexi agreed that was too impersonal. Out to dinner? Too public. In person? Terrifying, and possibly not an option. 
The truth was that you didn’t know him. He was someone who happened to be friends with your friend. Nothing more, nothing less. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you saw a billboard on the side of the 405 with his face on it. 
So you didn’t know if he’d even want to see you--he might consider you an acquaintance or even a stranger and maybe he had no desire to ever speak to you again.
You went about work and life as if everything was normal. You showered and brushed your teeth and took solace in knowing that whatever form of life was inside you was so tiny that it could just as well be a blip on the radar. 
A story in the future of hey, remember that time, when you were, and then it...
Plenty of people got pregnant and lost it, not even knowing until it was too late. You weren’t sure if you were wishing for that, in all honesty, but you knew that the alternative felt too overwhelming to think of right now. 
But when you found yourself sitting outside in the courtyard on your lunch break, a search typed into the app store for pregnancy tracker, you figured that maybe it was time to bite the bullet. If you were starting to think in terms of what size fruit a baby is at any given stage, maybe it was time to loop him in. 
You pulled up your text thread with Glenne--scrolled up past a meme and a recipe she’d sent you, until you found his name and number. You clicked it once, create new message. 
You stared at the blank bubble. A thousand words and a thousand choices of what to say and how to say it. With a rush of adrenaline, you exited out. Clicked the number again, call now. 
It rang. Three times. Then voicemail. A deep breath, you stood from the bench and started to pace. 
Beep. “Hey, uh, this is Y/N--uh, Y/N L/N. Lexi MacMillan’s roommate. I hope you’ve been well since I saw you, and, yeah--maybe we could get dinner or something soon. My number is--the one I’m calling on, so, I know you’re probably really busy right now, that’s fine. Just, uh, yeah, would love to talk with you. Okay, bye.”
You pulled the phone away from your face and wanted to throw it into the bushes. Would love to talk with you? That didn’t exactly do it justice. 
You let out a breath and clicked it to sleep, hoping that maybe it’d get lost in translation and you’d never have to talk to him or see him or think of him ever again. 
Something told you that wasn’t very likely. 
You went back inside and finished up the day of work, thankful for distraction from Aarav when he found you in the lounge. 
“Did you see the request that Carson sent?” He dropped his laptop on the coffee table and headed for the vending machine nearby. “Not to sound like a dick, but, he’s out of touch with reality. I’m concerned about him at this point.”
“Why?” You laughed, “cause he doesn’t understand that we can’t deliver a whole project with only two hours to do it?”
“Exactly,” he leaned down to reach for the bag of popcorn it spit out. “Hopefully he just fucking leaves and goes to fucking Tinder--he could even go to the Instagram department, for all I care.”
“Levi hates him anyway--pretty sure he regrets hiring him.”
He came to sit next to you and then opened the bag, putting his feet up on the glass table in front of you. “Yeah, well, Levi’s out of here as soon as he gets something with Apple.”
You smirked over at your favorite coworker, knowing exactly what was coming out of his mouth next. 
“And then you’ll get promoted. Much deserved, the queen of saving my ass.”
You brushed your hair off your shoulder playfully. “You’re welcome.”
He cleared his throat, opened up his laptop. “Levi’s great--but if you’re my boss, I’m working remotely two days a week instead of one.”
“We’ll see about that,” you said, giving him the side eye when you looked back to your screen.
You fell into comfortable silence--grateful for the change of scenery from your office that was far enough away from Aarav and Simone, the two people who made work feel like fun. So you got back to the project, sent your designs to Carson when you finished, and prayed that he wouldn’t have a fit over the fact that you didn’t take his advice on using the Aileron font instead of Arimo.
He emailed you, eventually, but you didn’t have time to read it. As soon as it opened on your screen, your phone rang--a Los Angeles area code appeared on the screen and you felt your stomach drop to the floor. You looked over at Aarav. “Sorry--I, uh, I have to get this.”
You stepped away, leaving him on the sofa with your laptop, hand still deep in his bag of popcorn. You swiped across the screen, brought the phone to your ear. “Hello?”
“Hi, uh, Y/N? It’s Harry.”
table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list
author’s note: Y’ALL. I’m back. As if starting a new story literally DAYS after I finish one isn’t crazy, here I am. Come talk to me and let me know your thoughts or your theories because THIS ONE is gonna be a wild ride. 
tag list: @stepping-into-the-light @thurhomish @afterstylesmadeit @iconicharry @stylesfics-xx @harryspirate @mellamolayla @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfantasy @clorenafila
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nature-and-music · 5 months ago
Won’t Get Fooled Again - Chapter 2
Authors’ note: This is a collaboration story written by @lady-jane-revisited and @nature-and-music The story involves a female reader who is a journalist in the 1970s.  She has interviewed a number of legendary rock musicians, including Roger Daltrey and Robert Plant.  Reader has made remarks about how Plant stole from Daltrey in terms of looks, clothing, and stage presence; wanting to egg the two of them to “fight” in order to sell more stories to curious readers.  Neither of the men have been budging.  One day she receives a letter indicating that she is to come to the English countryside for an exclusive interview with the Golden Gods.  What she doesn’t expect is the kind of meeting that follows suit.
This story is purely written as a fictitious tale.  We hope that you enjoy our story that we worked on together.  Our collab was quite long, so we had to break it up into chapters.  The continuing chapters will be provided at the bottom and the previous chapters at the top.  Thank you @lady-jane-revisited you are a fantastic writer.  Please check out her ao3 account for more of her fantastic stories.  Here is her upload of the story here  Fair warning this story does become nsfw later on.
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Chapter 2 - Cottage in the Countryside
The plane landed in London and I was off to find my designated driver. Easy enough to spot with the name card in his hands. For further proof, I showed him the written letter and he led me to a quaint looking vehicle. Nothing too flashy or expensive, probably wanting to make sure that he wouldn’t want to draw further attention to a complete stranger like myself of course. Passing through the streets of London felt no different from where I was living -- busy streets filled with shops, bars, and homes -- people passing through and going about their day. While I knew that I’d be spending much of my time in the countryside, maybe I could find time to check out the tourist attractions while I was here. Still, for me the main attraction and focus for this business trip of sorts was definitely going to be the lead singers.  
As the drive continued, I found myself looking out the window now and then. The area was slowly becoming much more spacious once we exited London. Such beautiful landscapes as far as the eye could see; rolling hills of green grass with shrubberies accompanying the lush land. Growing up in a busy city, I was always so used to being surrounded by nothing but concrete, bricks, and steel. To see this much greenery was actually very pleasant. We soon passed through a small, spacious village. People went about their day at a slower pace, something that I wasn’t very used to. The direction changed once the car drove upon a dirt road, soon arriving at the foot of a hill.  
“Where are we?” I asked. 
“You'll need to follow that stone stairway there. I’ll get your luggage ma’am.”
It was quaint, in a cute way. I turned my head around to begin my observation process, looking out at the grassy land and the little garden peeking out from behind the small, white-washed, two-storey cottage. There were bunches of red flowers blooming in the window planter boxes and rich green ivy sprawling up one wall. An overcast sky shrouded everything in a blanket of gloomy pale grey. The driver came up to my side with my luggage in-hand and directed me to the front door where the hosts were apparently already waiting. I prepared my most confident smile as we stood in the outside entryway after the driver rang the doorbell, waiting for someone to answer the door. Soft footsteps grew louder from behind the door and then came the unlatching of locks until finally one of the famed golden gods revealed themselves from inside.
“Hello, Mr. Daltrey.” I greeted warmly.
“Hi, Y/N. No need for the formalities since we’ll all be friendly by the end of the week. Thanks for joining us on such short notice.” The singer boyishly replied, his arm outstretched inside to welcome me in. 
The driver followed me inside, placing my things down neatly against the wall and exchanging a few words with Roger then taking his leave. I stood expectantly, folding my hands behind my back as the singer shut the front door and re-latched all the locks. He gestured for me to follow him inside, mentioning something about him or Robert bringing them upstairs later, and directed me into the cozy main living room. The fireplace crackled between two tall bookshelves, a few woven blankets were folded over sofas or armchairs, unfluffed pillows slumped against them too, doilies topped the small lamp tables, and a woodsy smell filled the air. I’d have to remember the layout and setting of everything to note down later -- writing now would seem a bit suspicious for an interview since we weren’t officially “on-record” yet. But the context would definitely be important to mention for really painting a picture in readers’ imaginations. 
“Please, find a seat anyplace you like and we can sort of explain everything in a moment.” Roger instructed, excusing himself from the room to go call for the other singer. 
I reached for my notepad and pen, draping my skirt gentilly underneath me as I sat down in an armchair. My hand raced across the next blank page to write down the date, then everything important about the room before either of them came back in here. Squinting my eyes, I even tried to make out a few titles of the books on the shelves in case any of them were piquing. I doubted that they personally chose them, this likely being a rented-out cottage specifically for the occasion, but I perused the shelves anyways. Being thorough in my work was something I prided myself on and this was definitely not going to be an exception. Unfortunately, my search didn’t lead to much of an outcome and it was interrupted by Roger’s re-entry and Robert’s initial personal introduction to me. 
“Well, the lady of the hour has finally arrived. I assume the flight and all was fine?” He grinned in his signature crooked smile, taking a seat at one end of the sofa across from me. 
“Yes, thank you for making all the arrangements.” 
Roger took a seat at the opposite end and cleared his throat, “We’ve brought your things up to your room upstairs so it’s all ready whenever you’d like. We can get started on discussing things, unless you’d like to freshen up first?”
“No, we can get started.” I assured him, straightening up in my seat as I prepared my hand to write any details into the notepad in my lap. 
“Oh, the interview part isn’t starting yet or anything, you don’t need to take notes now.” Roger insisted, still as friendly at the door in a way that would’ve made it very uncomfortable for me to keep the notepad out. 
Folding my hands in my lap overtop it instead, I looked between them and waited for the explanation for this whole ordeal, “Well this is something I never would have imagined in the years that I’ve been a journalist.”
“Well, we do hope that you’ll enjoy your trip here. You are our guest after all, and we English know a thing or two about hospitality as it were.” Robert mentioned with a theatrical wave of his hand toward the cottage.
“Speaking of which, would you like anything? The kettle is warming up if you’d like some tea.  Or perhaps something to eat?” Roger offered with a smile.
“Do you say that often to journalists during an interview?” I queried with a raised brow.
Taking his seat in the armchair across from me, Robert responded, “Well only to the ones who are lucky enough to be invited.”
“And how often does that happen, Robert?”
“Oh,” he began with a purse of his lips, “Rarely, I suppose, darlin’. Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
“Not even a little tour of the place?” Roger added.
My curiosity was piqued, even though frankly I really wanted to get to the bottom of this situation, “Well before we do that, I need to know something.  Why did you invite me here? And don’t try to use your little charm to distract me.  I know my way around people like you,” I mentioned with a cold demeanour.
Placing a hand to his chest with a faux expression of shock, Robert responded, “What? ‘People like us?’ Whatever could you mean?”
“Oh dear, she’s caught on to you Robert,” Roger commented, his smile growing wider.
Losing my patience, I stood up with my feet firmly planted, “Listen here you two, I’m not some ditzy groupie that’s going to fall for your bullshit. I’ve interviewed The Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, a few members of The Beatles, and KISS. You two are no different from any of those bands, so I know what I’m up against here. Now why did you invite me here? And I want a straight answer.”
The last auditory traces of my voice reverberated until there was nothing but silence. Both men looked at each other briefly and then back towards the kitchen. The shrieking howl of the kettle indicated that the water had come to a boil. Roger got up and took care of the matter until the stillness of quiet returned, the only sounds coming from the chirping birds in the nearby trees.  
Leaning back in his chair, Robert’s eyes were on me once more, “Well since you asked, Roger and I have noticed for some time now that your writing is rather… how did you put it Roger?”
“Sensationalized, to put it politely,” he denoted, coming back with a small tray of freshly brewed tea in three cups, alongside a little pitcher of milk and a small bowl of sugar cubes. “We’ve read your work and we think it’s a bit unfair for you to write about us like we're sworn enemies or something.”
Robert stepped in, “We want to tell you our sides of the story. Whatever sort of questions you give us, we will answer them the best we can.” 
“And what’s in it for me?”
“Well, we answer your questions, you get your big story.” Roger started, handing me a cup. “I mean if you didn’t want that, you wouldn’t have come here now, right?”
He certainly got me there.
“So long as you're here, we don’t want you to treat us like celebrities. Just talk with us and please enjoy yourself while you’re here,” Robert concluded, taking the cup that his friend offered to him.   
Perhaps it was the lack of fanatical supporters, press, or the time crunch of having to perform on stage, but I was surprised to hear these two deciding to drop the act and speak honestly with me. Still, I was hesitant and wasn’t going to simply let them gain my trust with pretty promises -- I expected that they would answer my questions and I would get what I came for. If they wouldn’t let me take notes now, I’d memorize everything they said. If they tried to dodge my questions, I’d just have to get it out of them in a trickier way than directly asking. If they tried softening me up with “hospitality”, I’d stay sharp. I was not about to let these two put a dent in my career by foiling this job for me and I was going to get my story. 
“Alright, but this is still all for a written assignment. I will be getting my interviews. I will be taking notes. And I will write accurately on whatever material I gather. Is that clear?” I stated firmly, laying down the law.
“Yes, ma’am.” Robert quipped, blowing on the steaming surface of the tea before taking a sip.
“We understand -- we called you here on professional terms and your boss is expecting an article to come out of it. It’s just that you don’t have to try keeping track of absolutely everything for the whole week, you are allowed to relax. In fact, that might lend a more personal light to how your piece turns out.” Roger elaborated. 
I’d play along. Still en-guarde at any moment but appearing laid-back and careless for the sake of being more personable. Our conversation quieted down as everyone fixed their tea the way they liked and got settled, letting the tension gradually dissolve into the air. The fireplace crackled and teaspoons gently stirred in cream, milk, sugar, or honey. I wasn’t going to speak up and ask friendly questions first -- that would still seem suspect -- so I waited until one of them made a move instead. A cheery smile remained on Roger’s face as he watched the flickering flames. The only one left to speak was Robert, and he evidently didn’t know where to start either. He cleared his throat and sat up, putting the tea cup down over the coffee table before him but no words came from his agape mouth for a few seconds.
Wanting to break the tension, Roger stood up and asked, “Would you like a tour of the place?”
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wingeddbaby · a year ago
soulmate au
For the following characters : Bakugou Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, Amajiki Tamaki
warnings : language
“Do you think our soulmates might be in our class?” asked Ochaco, a smile plastered on her face.
You frowned. Hoping that your soulmate was in your school, least of all your class, was just a lost cause. There’s a low chance of meeting your soulmate. And even if you did, it could be possible that the two of you never figure it out. Or there could be an unrequited love.
You’re supposed to have a matching mark. It’s located on your wrist, and it disappears once - or in most cases, if - you fall in love with your soulmate.
But, right now, soulmates were the least of your worries as you walked with your friend all the way to UA; a place you thought you’d never get into.
Bakugou Katsuki -
He didn’t believe in the whole soulmate scenario. That’s why Bakugou kept his mark covered whenever he could. He didn’t want to meet his soulmate. Because he didn’t know what he would think if he did.
But when he saw you at the dorms, a small blue explosion on the inside of your bare wrist, he couldn’t process the newfound information.
“Hey, Bakugou! Are you still going to help me study tonight? We have that test tomorrow, and I really need your help!” You grabbed his arm, and Bakugou hated the fact that he became flustered from the familiar action. The two of you somehow became “friends”, even with your cheerful personality and his bad attitude.
“Whatever. Get your shit and hurry up.” Bakugou pulled away and left for his room.
You smiled and ran to your room to grab your notebook and some of the assignments you needed help with.
“Can I just sleep here? Aizawa will be pissed if he finds me wandering around the boys’ dorms at two in the morning.” You yawned and set your notebook aside.
“That’s why I told you to leave, hours ago!” he yelled, causing you to laugh. You somehow found humor in his overly-dramatic anger. “But fine, you can sleep on the bed-”
“You want me to sleep in your bed with you? I feel honored!” You smirked when he glared at you.
“I was going to say…” he tried to keep his cool this time. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Aww… that’s no fun. I promise I don’t bite!”
“Shut up and turn around while I change.”
“Why? Scared I’ll see your mark?”
He didn’t say anything.
You covered your eyes, flopping back onto his bed. “I still can’t believe I got you to stay up this late.” You peeked through your fingers, hoping to get a glimpse of his soulmate mark. And you were able to see it. When you did, you fell off the bed in shock.
“Shit! What the hell are you doing, (l/n)?!” he yelled, pulling on a sweatshirt.
“K-Katsuki! Why didn’t you tell me?!” he lifted you from the ground, ignoring your yelling.
“What the fuck are you talking about?!” You saw the look of worry on his face that he tried to cover up with yelling.
You grabbed his sleeve and pulled it up so that you could see his mark. The blue explosion that was the exact same as yours. A mix of your water manipulation quirk and his ability to create explosions from his sweat.
“You’ve seen my mark multiple times! Why didn’t you tell me?!” You felt hurt, and you just wanted to forget about this situation, but it’s too late now. “Mine disappeared a few days ago…”
“I didn’t…”
“What, Katsuki?!”
“I didn’t want to see your reaction.” He sat down on the bed in defeat. What is up with him today?
You sat down next to him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I l-like you, (l/n) (y/n).”
Your heart started to race at his meaningful statement. “Aww… I like you too, Katsuki!” You smiled and wrapped your arms around him. This was one of the very rare moments in which Bakugou opened up to you. And you would accept it any day.
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Kaminari Denki -
“Oh my god! (y/n), Kaminari has that same mark on his wrist! I saw it the other day!” Mina squealed, jumping up and down.
“You are very excited over this…” You watched as Mina smiled and grabbed her phone. “What are you doing, Mina…?”
“I’m texting Ochaco. She said that whoever finds your soulmate first will get a free meal from the other.”
You gave her a look of confusion. “But what if you never found my soulmate?”
“Then I’d live a very sad life, (y/n).”
You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone when you heard it go off. It was a message from Ochaco.
human floaty: U FOUND UR SOULMATE W/O ME???
human floaty: IM COMING TO UR ROOM RN
“Ochaco’s coming over,” you said quietly. Mina grabbed your phone from your hands. “HEY!”
“Why is there a picture of you and Kaminari as your wallpaper?” She smirked at you and scrolled through your contacts.
“What are you doing with my phone?”
“Calling him.”
“WHAT?! STOP!” You reached for your phone, a spark of electricity accidentally flying from your fingertip. That’s right. You have the same quirk as Kaminari, except you can shoot red electricity. It was caused by your mother’s fire quirk.
“I didn’t call him.” Mina tossed me the phone. “I texted him. He wouldn’t be able to hear me if I called since you keep screaming.”
A knock was heard at your door, and, expecting it to be Ochaco, you stood up to answer it. You did not expect to see your friend, crush, and soulmate - Kaminari Denki, standing at your door frame. “Denki? W-What are you-”
“Let me see your mark!” he yelled frantically, grabbing your arm.
He put his arm next to yours, comparing the two soulmate marks. A lightning bolt. Half yellow, half red.
Then it disappeared.
“You love me?!” you looked up at him in embarrassment once you saw the mark disappear from his wrist.
“You love me?!”
You both didn’t predict someone to shove Kaminari into you and cause your lips to clash together in an unexpected kiss.
Ochaco gave Mina a discreet thumbs up from her place behind Kaminari.
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Todoroki Shouto -
You have two soulmate marks. So you figured it would be easier to find your soulmate with that kind of mark. You even thought of the possibility that you might have two soulmates. But that was impossible. One of them was a flame. The other was a red and blue flower. The second mark made sense, considering your quirk gives you the ability to cover the area in plants with your bare hands. It’s pretty useful in combat since you can just wrap vines around someone.
But one day, the marks just disappeared, meaning that your soulmate had fallen in love with you. That also means that you’ve met them before, which narrowed down the possibilities.
You didn’t even want a soulmate. You already heart set on someone else. So imagine your surprise when you heard Midoriya asking Todoroki about his two soulmate marks, and how they had disappeared a few weeks ago… When you realized you liked Todoroki…
You walked up to them during lunch and slammed your hands down on the table, trying to be intimidating. “Todoroki. Can I talk to you?” He nodded, waiting for you to say something. “Alone, please?”
Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka quickly left the table. “What did your soulmate marks look like?”
“One was a flame. The other was a flower. Why?”
Your eyes widened. “You’re my soulmate…”
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Midoriya Izuku -
“I like you!”
“Huh?” You jumped slightly when Midoriya suddenly said this during lunch.
You didn’t figure him as the type of person to have feelings for another person at this time. He was too focused on his studies and on becoming a pro hero, but apparently, that wasn’t as true as you thought it to be.
“You… like me…?” You didn’t believe it. Honestly, who would want someone like you? You have a quirk that poisons people. You can’t be a hero with a quirk that only hurts people, yet you got into UA - under the hero course - anyway.
“Yes.” He nodded, still bowing his head to you so you couldn’t see his expression.
“Why?” you asked, picking at the food on your tray with a solemn look. He was probably dared to do it. You never thought that it was possible for someone to like you.
He grabbed your arm and showed you his wrist. “You like me too, dont you?” Both his arm and your’s were free of the soulmate mark that was a green skull.
“I do…” You smiled when he pressed a kiss to your cheek.
Someone in this world - your soulmate - does like you. Love you.
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Amajiki Tamaki -
You smiled at the small sun on your wrist. The other girls in your class were showing off their marks, and you had a sudden appreciation for your own.
“Your soulmate must be a cheerful person,” said Ochaco, smiling over at you.
You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Hey, aren’t you going to meet up with Nejire and her friend later?” Mina asked. When you nodded, she asked, “Can I come?”
“Sorry, no, I’m supposed to meet her at a café with Tamaki,” you said, grabbing your phone and your backpack. “I should actually be going right now.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?! We could’ve helped you prepare!”
“She isn’t coming, is she?” You sighed, leaning your head against the window of the café.
The boy in front of you shrugged, still trying to call Nejire from his phone.
“Maybe we should just go, Tamaki…” you whispered, turning off your phone and putting it in the front pocket of your backpack.
“We could s-stay.”
“I mean… If you want to.”
“I-If you don’t-”
“Tamaki, I want to stay.” You smiled and grabbed onto his hand.
“Okay…” A blush crept onto his face as you fiddled with his hand. “What are you doing…?”
You heard your phone ringing from your backpack, so you went to grab it. When you reached into the pocket, you noticed that the mark on your wrist was gone.
“U-Um… Tamaki? Do you mind if I see your soulmate mark?”
He held out his arm, expecting to see that small familiar sun. Imagine his surprise when he saw nothing.
“It was a sun… I don’t-” He was cut off by your lips being pressed against his. You felt him flinch at the sudden action, but that didn’t stop him from hesitantly putting his hands on your waist.
“Ahem!” You both pulled away, not meeting each other eyes as you scooted away from each other. “I see you two are getting along just fine…”
You glared at Nejire as she laughed at your embarrassment.
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i-need-entertainment · 9 months ago
All’s not lost
Character: Iizuna x reader
Warning: Blood (from injury), mentions of injuries, Haikyu manga spoilers (Itatchiyama vs Inubushi), mentions of feeling insecure/not good enough ,Sakusa and Komori being bRaTs.
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**In the beginning of this, Komori and Sakusa are first years and reader and Iizuna are second years. HENCE, Iizuna is the team setter, but not the team captain yet.**
You sighed, frustratedly running your fingers through your hair. “I am so sorry. I warned you they’d be a handful.” You apologized to the teams setter, Iizuna Tsukasa, as you turned around to glare at the culprits. Your younger brother, Sakusa Kiyoomi, and you guys’ cousin, Komori Motoya. “Kiyoomi, stop being a brat.” He huffed as he looked away from you, Komori just snickered beside him, “And Motoya, stop encouraging him!” Komori looked up in (feigned) shock. “Hey! I didn’t encourage him, He just did it.” You rolled your eyes, “Fine, stop enabling him.” He laughed as he ran off to go practice volleyball, Sakusa not far behind him. You shook your head as you turned back around to be face to face with the setter. “I really am sorry…You’d think with them being in high school they would be past needing 24/7 adult supervision, apparently not.” You and him just laughed, him waving off your apology. “It’s fine, really. But, uh, could you tell me where the first aid kit is kept…?” Tilting your head a bit in confusion you looked at him, and then blood came running down his face…
*Five minutes earlier…*
“It’s not that I’m doubting you, it’s just I don’t think you can do it.” Sakusa glared at his cousin. Just a little bit ago the two had been having an argument. Komori didn’t think Sakusa could spike left handed, Sakusa said he could…So anyways here they were. Komori was acting as setter and Sakusa, as spiker. After many, many minutes, Sakusa nailed one…except it was much more powerful than he had intended…and instead of the court being it’s final destination, Iizuna’s face took the brunt of the blow. Luckily you, Itatchiyama’s second year manager, had been heading into the gym to collect the rugrats you called family when you witnessed the teams setter go down.
*Now back to present time, in the club room*
“Here, go ahead and sit down. I’m gonna go grab the first aid kit.” He nodded as he took a seat in the chair you had pulled over for him. You came back over to him with the kit in hand. “Hold this to your nose, it’s still bleeding…” He nodded as he took the gauze, holding it to his still bleeding nose. You looked for an ice pack, once you found one you brought it to his now bruising cheek. He winced a little as you placed it on his face but got used to it. “You didn’t have to do this…” You smiled as you shook your head. “It’s fine…it was my idiots that did it anyway so it’s the least I can do.” You both kind of sat there in a sort of silence. You had known each other for over a year now, and you guys were friends, but you weren’t super close. Unbeknownst to the two of you, you had both developed little (okay maybe not *little*) crushes on each other. “…Does it hurt?” Iizuna snapped his gaze back to yours, which he now realized was quite close to his face. He short circuited for a second before remembering you had asked him a question. “U-um not too bad. Thank you…” You smiled as you gently cupped his face, tilting his head gently side to side to check for any other injuries you may have missed. You paused before letting go of him when you realized you were still cupping his face. “D-don’t worry about it…anytime.” You gave him one last smile before you stood up, him doing the same when he saw the blood had stopped gushing out of his nose.
  That was second year. Fast forward to third year, it is now the time of the nationals. Today was the day of the quarterfinals, and Itatchiyama is playing against Inubushi East High. You guys had just called a time out, you gave some members their water bottles and towel before walking over to Iizuna. Handing him the bottle he nodded and said a quick ‘thank you’ before gulping the water down. They had just finished the first set; winning it of course, honestly the game was looking pretty good for Itatchiyama. You’ve known Iizuna for a good three years now, so you knew when something was on his mind. “Iizuna, you okay? You look like something’s on your mind..” He looked at you, a bit startled you had noticed. He sighed and brought his hand to rub the back of his neck; something you noticed he did when he was nervous. “I don’t know, I just feel a bit…nervous? I mean, sure we won the first set but, I don’t know something just feels off…” You nodded, “All you can really do is your best, just make sure you do what you’re supposed to and what happens will happen. But, that said I’m sure you’ll do great…you always do.” You gave him a sweet smile, and he gave you one back. The whistle blew, signaling the break was over and it was time to get back on the court. He turned around, “Iizuna!” He turned back towards you. You took a step forward and kissed his cheek, “Do your best…” He had a shocked look on his face before it transformed into a goofy smile, “If we win this, can I have a real one?” You laughed, “Just get on the court you dork!” Laughing he made his way to the court, lightly slapping a giggling Komori upside the head as he reclaimed his spot in the front row. They continued on with the game and it was now just under halfway through the second set; the score was 14:12 in Itatchiyama’s favor. All was going great until, “Stop the game! Iizuna went down!” Hearing his name you shot up, frantically looking towards the court you saw Iizuna on the ground holding his ankle. You and coach rushed towards the court, each of you grabbing one of his arms and leading him off to the sidelines where medics were waiting for him. After Iizuna was escorted to the infirmary and Itatchiyama had subbed in their back up setter, you returned to your place at the bench, a sick feeling sitting in your stomach. 27:29…Itatchiyama had lost. You started to pack up as the boys returned to the locker room. That brings us to now, the team was all sitting In the room they had been given in the stadium, minus one that is. After the game (which Iizuna had eventually returned to) you hadn’t been able to talk to Iizuna, and when you realized the captain was missing you exited the room and went looking for him. You turned a corner just to see him sitting on a bench, head in his hands as he tried to gather his thoughts. “…Iizuna…?” He looked up to see you, a concerned expression on your face as you looked at him. “I thought you were with the team?” You shook your head, making your way towards him. “I was, but, I haven’t seen you since the game ended…and having known you for as long as I have, I had a feeling you’d be somewhere alone blaming yourself for what happened.” He stayed silent. “Tsukasa…” He looked up at you again, You knelt down in front of him. “…It wasn’t your fault. Not as the setter, definitely not as the captain. You didn’t let your team down, and you definitely didn’t let me down. What happened was a terrible accident, they happen. But blaming yourself isn’t going to change what did happen…I’m proud of you Tsukasa…” Charged by the surge of emotions going through him he threw himself at you, wrapping you tightly in his arms as tears started going down both of your faces. “I just- I feel so helpless! I tried so hard, worked so hard. We all did! A-AND, I just. I don’t know Y/n. I don’t feel good enough- I’m not good enough for the team, for you-“ Done with hearing his self deprecation you slightly pulled away from the hug, holding his face and looking him in the eyes. “Don’t. Don’t say that. You are more than enough, for the team, for volleyball, I mean- you’re the number 1 setter and for good reason! And if anything you’re too good for me!” You lightly laughed as you wiped some tears from your eyes with your right hand, Iizuna laughing and leaning into your left hand, which remained on his cheek. “…fine, we’re BOTH losers…” You laughed at his comment, happy the normal Iizuna was making an appearance. “Shut up!” You smiled as you looked into his eyes, both of you feeling a little bit better. “It sucks that we lost…but there’s something else I’m more upset about not getting…” You raised your eyebrow in question (and suspicion) while he gave you an amused lop sided smile. He leaned in closer, putting his forehead against yours. You smiled, trying to hide the way your heart beat had immediately sped up, and hoping he didn’t notice how hot your face had gotten. “Oh…? What would that be?” He chuckled, “You know.” You attempted to stop the sea of emotions that started to flood your senses, but with the love of your life this close and being an absolute flirt?! HOW COULD YOU BE CALM?!!? He flicked his gaze down to your lips before his intense stare met yours. “…I know I didn’t win…but could you bend the rules just this once and let me kiss you?” You nodded and he wasted no time in tilting his head and connecting his lips to yours. The kiss was…sweet. It was soft, kind everything you had imagined it would be like to kiss the Tsukasa Iizuna. Parting he returned his forehead to yours, “I like you, Y/n…I really like you, and I get it if you don’t like me back-“ You shook your head with a smile, “I like you too Tsukasa…” He smiled, “Then is it safe to say you’d go out with me?” You laughed, “Yeah, I think so.” You both sat there for a while, enjoying basking in the presence of your new relationship, and because he couldn’t get up. “…Can I kiss you again?” You nodded and he once again placed his lips on yours, just as things were getting good you were both interrupted by a very distinct ‘Ew’ and ‘Get it captain!’ Disconnecting your lips from his your eyes widened as Iizuna groaned. Peering around the corner was the two gremlins themselves; Sakusa and Komori. An irk mark appeared on Iizuna’s face while you laughed. Sensing the oncoming danger Komori gave a little wave and a ‘Have fun~ But not too much fun~’ before he skipped away, a still grossed out Sakusa following behind him. “Sorry about them. But, you might as well get used to it, I have a feeling that will be happening a lot.” He sighed but ultimately chuckled, moving his head to rest on your shoulder. “So long as my dream girl is there with me, I don’t even care.” Today might not have been the best. They lost the match and Iizuna had sprained his ankle. But he couldn’t deny that today had been one of the best, because he had finally confessed his feelings to the girl he’d been crushing on since first year.
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svt13roses · a year ago
Put A Little Love On Me
Words: 4.6k
Summary: He was always looking out for you, even since that night. It just took a particularly bad night at the club to realize it.
Pairing: S.Coups x Reader
T/w: mentions of alcohol, swearing
A/n: It’s Seungcheol day!!! This was originally supposed to be finished up and posted back in July but life got in the way. I hope Seungcheol has a good birthday and knows how much we really appreciate how great of a leader he really is. He deserves all the love ;u;
     The weekend scenes were starting to blend together into a mirage of too loud music, too many flashing lights, and too many bodies of people. It was a Friday, again. The weeks seem to fly by until Friday night, and in those few precious hours out, time seems to go by too fast while also being too slow. You can remember ordering some fancy drink to start the night, and you remember the stranger next to you saying the next round of drinks were on him. Somewhere in this mess, one round became two, and like a moment of realization you were out on the dance floor, lost in your own world. You didn’t care though, you knew all eyes were on you at this moment. This was your show, and you were the star every weekend.
     You didn’t know who you were performing for, you could put on the air of self-confidence and say you were doing this for yourself because you knew how good you looked and you knew you could probably have anyone you wanted tonight to bring home. However, there was a seed of thought being planted in your mind every time you partied the Friday night away. Could this be a show to prove that you weren’t hurt by him anymore? That you moved on from the shambles of what you could barely call a relationship? In the heat of the moment, none of those thoughts crossed your mind. 
     You broke out of your trance when you felt something cold dribble down your left shoulder. You could feel the sticky-sugary liquid slowly travel down your arm and onto your fingertips, the sensation made your skin crawl in the worst way. You whipped your head around trying to find who could have spilled the drink, but there were too many bodies pressed against each other making it nearly impossible to see who did or did not have a drink. Taking a breath, you maneuvered through the sea of people trying to get to the bathroom. You somehow managed to get to your destination without too much trouble, though walking took more concentration than it really should have. You made your way over to the sinks and grabbed a paper towel. You looked at yourself in the mirror, and you could finally see the stain along your arm. 
     “What the hell kind of drink could this have been?” You mumbled to yourself, seeing how it left a long purple streak down your arm. You managed to wipe off the streak, but you could still feel the stain it left behind, the stickiness making itself known with every movement of your arm. “Maybe this is just a sign that I should go home.. fuck. Whoever that asshole was should have at least apologized. If this happens again I swear this heel is going straight-” Your rant was interrupted by a group of girls who definitely were not aware of where they were at the current moment. The blinding fluorescent lights, the loud bass from the music outside, and the shrill cry of the girls became too much. It felt like all your senses were being attacked yet you couldn’t feel anything. You willed yourself to take a step, with each step feeling like you were chained to bricks. You thought you heard one of the girls cry “oh my god is she ok?” before you were met with the cold tile of the bathroom floor. 
      Pain shot through your right ankle and your head began to spin. Taking in your surroundings, you could see the group of girls beginning to crowd around you. You became overwhelmed by the lights and the scent of overpowering perfume. 
     “Should we like, get the bartender?”
     “Oh my god no! He’s a bartender, what good can a bartender do?”
     “Well, I dunno! I haven’t had some chick drop to the floor before!”
     “You can’t just call her some chick! She’s literally right in front of us!”
     “Well you guys are the ones talking like she’s not in front of us. Maybe I should call a… what’s it called again? The truck! The thing with the lights!! Weeoo weeoo!”
     “Oh my god you’re literally so dumb! It’s called an ambulance!”
     “Yeah!! That!! Should we call for one of those?”
     “Don’t call an ambulance, please. I’ll be ok.” You croaked out, beginning to stand. You knew that you probably should have just waited and asked for help. You knew that what you’re doing in the first place is irrational and probably stupid on your part. Coming out alone on the weekend was never a good idea, yet you did it anyway. Your friends had warned you to just stay home for once, a night in was never a bad idea. Of course, you didn’t listen. You craved the temporary escape from reality, where time was a fleeting illusion. This world, you were the star and he didn’t matter. Your past doesn’t matter; the petty arguments, the words that left incurable wounds in your heart, the actions that can’t be undone. It’s all in the past, and you need to accept the past. But instead of accepting, you only seemed to be running. 
     Little things reminded you of him everywhere you went. Little, insignificant details that really shouldn’t be a reminder but you couldn’t help seek them out. His favorite color on you was yellow, so you stopped wearing yellow. He always stopped by a coffee shop near your workplace in the mornings because he knew he would run into you there, you avoided that route entirely. He drank a certain kind of bottled water, you went out of your way to drink anything except that brand. He had told you, when things were still ok, that you would never be able to escape him. At the time, you had giggled thinking it was an endearing gesture, but now you couldn’t help but think that he had put a curse on you that day. 
     It was a typical Friday night for Seungcheol: he had come home and relaxed for a while, began watching Netflix, and then the itching started. It wasn’t a physical itch, but an intuition of sorts that something was wrong, or something bad was going to happen eventually. He checked the time on his phone: 10:32. I wonder.. Ugh there really is no escaping you huh? Seungcheol chuckled to himself, making his way off the couch to get dressed up for the night ahead of him. Dressing up on a Friday night to head out and socialize wasn’t an unordinary occasion. However, no matter how nice he looked or how much he indulged in the flirtatious games of strangers, he always left just as he arrived. Not a hair out of place, not a button undone, no trace of alcohol to be found. He was a man of routine, and as such he always found himself at the same place every Friday. Seungcheol was very similar to you in that aspect, he did not like change. If things were fine the way they were, why fix it? You both were stubborn and were blindsighted to the small details around you. Small details, however, can build up. As Seungcheol put on the jacket that he wore that night, he was reminded of what truly happens when the small things get ignored for too long.
A few months ago
     Seungcheol knew he messed up, but he knew that you were in the wrong too. However, you were both too stubborn to admit it. Tonight was supposed to be a date night, a rare event as of late. Seungcheol had gotten the notification on his calendar, but absentmindedly disregarded it while helping Jihoon in his studio. You also had a reminder go off, but your boss had you stay late at work. You could have gotten home in a timely manner for dinner, but one of your friends at work had also stayed late. You both had gotten caught up in a conversation and before you knew it, you both made your way to a fast food place for dinner to catch up. 
     Seuncheol had tried to rush home as soon as he could, not caring if some work was left to be completed tomorrow. When he arrived, you were at the kitchen table eating the remnants of whatever food you hadn’t finished at the restaurant. 
     “What the hell is this y/n?” He tossed his jacket onto the chair across from you. “Tonight was supposed to be a night for us two, why are you eating now? If you got hungry and couldn’t have waited, you could’ve at least texted me.”
     “Oh shit.. I completely forgot. I’m sorry Cheol, maybe next week?” You finished off your fries and put everything in the bag, making your way to the trash. Seungcheol grabbed your arm as you passed. 
     “No, we can’t do next week. Remember how busy I’m gonna be? And you even told me that you’re going on a business trip with your boss and a few coworkers to a conference next weekend. Did that suddenly change?” His voice began to rise. “Look I feel terrible for not being able to make it tonight but you’re acting like it’s no big deal. Don’t you care at all? Cause right now it seems like it’s some small thing that can be made up!” His grip on your arm began to tighten. The fast food bag dropped to the ground, long forgotten. 
     “Cheol your grip- please let go.”
     “We have to talk now or we’re never going to talk! I haven’t heard from you in days and we fucking live together y/n!” You could feel tears brimming, but you couldn’t tell if it was his tone, his grip, or both. 
     “Ok well communication’s a two-way street, isn’t it?” You slapped his hand with your free hand, effectively freeing you from his hold. “And don’t grab onto me like I’m some inanimate object, that fucking hurt! You act like I’m the problem when it’s you! I tried to reach out but I was always met with silence or some stupid two-word answer. This date night that we both forgot about? It was my idea because I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks. And guess what? I expected this to happen! Sure I got dinner but can I be the one to blame? You’re the one leaving me behind and coming back when you feel like it! I’m done being… whatever this is!” You screamed, tears falling freely. 
     “Oh don’t act like I’m the bad guy here. You’re not so saintly either when it comes to talking. I try to talk to you when I’m free but you’re always out with your friends-”
     “Because you’re not there for me!”
     “Let me finish. You got to talk without interruptions so now it’s my turn.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “Don’t act like that’s so hard to do. Or is it? Cause it seems like I can never get a word in these days! You knew I’ve been busy, and you knew I would be with Jihoon today so obviously things were going to go late. But honestly, at this point it seems like you would rather have me at work so you have an excuse to go out with your friends. Which, by the way, you never even update me on where you are so for all I know you could be hurt and I wouldn’t know-”
     “Of course you would know!”
     “How do you know that?” he shouted. “Do your friends even know my number? Hell, I don’t even know your friends! For all I know, you could be seeing someone behind my back and I wouldn’t even know! Maybe this ‘business conference’ is just a cover-up for some fancy trip between you and your boss, huh?”  You have never seen him so angry before, and the silence was the heaviest force you have ever felt.  Wiping your tears, you bit the inside of your cheek and let out a long sigh. 
     “I don’t even know what to say Cheol…” You whispered. “I thought you knew me better but I guess time apart can be a bitch. I won’t even question where those thoughts came from.” You chuckled bitterly and began to walk away.
     “Wait y/n no, that’s not what I meant-”
     “Clearly, Seungcheol, it is or else you wouldn’t have said it. When people are angry they say how they really feel. Guess I know now that my boyfriend thinks I’m some cheating whore or something.” You could feel yourself beginning to cry again. It didn’t help when he began to follow you, calling your name. You both ended up in your shared bedroom, you sitting down on the bed. He laid down and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He secured you firmly into his hold, and you buried your face into his chest, letting out all the sobs that had been building up for months. Every insult you had wanted to call him came out in whimpers as your body shook from how hard you cried. You could feel Seungcheol begin to run his fingers through your hair, trying to calm you down in some way.  The two of you laid in bed for what seemed like hours, the tension still thick. Finally, he croaked out something you couldn’t hear. 
      “What was that?” you mumbled into his chest.
     “This isn’t us. This isn’t our relationship”
     “I don’t think I understand, Cheol.” You looked up at him. He let out a deep breath and sat up, you following suit. He gently cupped your cheeks and began wiping away the stray tears with his thumbs. 
     “Y/n, we’re not who we used to be. We’re not some love-struck couple stuck in our honeymoon phase. We’re not happy.” He gently kissed your forehead. “I think we need to end this here y/n. I hate seeing you hurt, and knowing I’m the one who caused you that pain.”
     “No, I understand. I feel the same way actually.” You moved his hands from your cheeks and held them. “I think we were both too scared to admit it. I mean, we were each other’s first loves, right? We didn’t want to lose something that precious. Besides, neither of us like change all that much.” Seungcheol smiled sadly. “But, I think you’re right. Let’s end this here before we hurt each other even more. I’m sorry for not being as open as I should have. I’ve felt unhappy for so long that I’ve tried to fill that void with my friends. Obviously you saw through that, but I should have known better. You can read me like an open book.” You hugged him tightly as if holding him close would make him stay any longer. 
     You both spent your final night together wrapped up in each other’s arms, pretending everything was okay for just those moments. And in those moments where everything was peaceful, with you and the rest of the world asleep, he felt a spark of love he hadn’t felt since he first fell in love with you. 
     “I guess this is goodbye isn’t it, sweetheart?”
     Seungcheol could feel the vibrations from the bass from outside the club. He probably shouldn’t be as familiar with this place as he is, but he justified his reasons for coming to himself. The breakup was just as hard for him as it was for you. However, he hadn’t expected you to be coping the same way as him: with copious amounts of alcohol. It was a complete coincidence that he saw you at this particular club a few weeks after he had moved out of the apartment. He had made sure to stay out of your way, not wanting to cause a possible scene. He couldn’t help but be curious as to who you were here with. When he had said he barely knew your friends, he wasn’t lying. As far as he could tell you were alone, lost in your own world on the dance floor. That first night, he stuck around a little longer than he planned, his eyes never leaving you. 
     He found himself in front of the same club the next week. He told himself that he had a really good time the previous week and wanted to come back, this time actually planning on getting drunk. However, his plans were ruined once he saw you at the bar. From where he was standing, he could see how uncomfortable you were. Seated next to you was a man who, in his opinion, was way too old to be in a club like this. He was sitting a little too close to his liking next to you, and you couldn’t seem to shake him off no matter how long you talked to him. Seungcheol took it upon himself to try and at least try and drive the man’s attention elsewhere. When the bartender came to take Seungcheol’s order, he asked the bartender to strike up a conversation with the older man. He may have also slid the bartender some extra tip money to make sure he actually got the man away from you. Ten minutes later, the bartender was still talking to the man and you had managed to slip away to the dance floor. 
     It became a habit for Seungcheol now, coming to the same club every Friday. Every time he would tell himself that it would be different, but each time he found himself looking out for you. If you seemed to have a little too much to drink that night, he would tip the bartender a little extra to make sure you got some water before going home for the night. If he noticed someone was making you uncomfortable at the bar, the bartender already knew to go and try to distract whoever was talking to you. Seuncheol was also there to see you walking out with whichever stranger you deemed fit to spend the night with. Is this really how they’re choosing to move on? He had asked himself on more than one occasion. He knew that you both had further discussed the end of the relationship, and had ended it on mutual terms. However, he couldn’t help but feel a little mad at himself every time he saw you leave with someone new. What did these people have that he didn’t? What weren’t you telling him while you two were still together?
     As time moved on and the weeks passed by, he slowly felt himself becoming comfortable with this routine. If he knew you were safe, he was happy. Jihoon had called him a creep multiple times for his behavior, and Seungcheol would retort right away “just because we’re not in love doesn’t mean I don’t still love them.” With this new routine, Seuncheol could feel himself slowly moving on from the past. Sure, it still stung, but now he finds comfort in the fact that for at least one night he knows you’ll be okay. Tonight, however, felt different. When he felt like something bad was going to happen, nine times out of ten something bad almost did happen. There have been multiple times where he’s had to save you from going home with someone who definitely had malicious intentions. He was hoping that tonight would not be one of those nights as he kept his eyes on you on the dance floor. Before he could stop it, he watched as someone accidentally spilled their drink on your arm. 
     “What the hell is wrong with people?” He muttered, making his way down the bar closer to the bathrooms, making sure you arrived safely. As time passed, he grew more and more worried. No one had left the bathroom you entered since he saw a group of girls go inside. Had he had some liquid courage coursing through his veins, he would have just barged into the bathroom by himself. Before he was about to ask the bartender if there was something he could possibly do, god knows the bartender knows him by now,  he saw the bathroom door swing open from the corner of his eye. He turned towards your direction, and he saw you shuffle across to the bar with a hand on your head and the gaggle of girls stumble behind you. He didn’t care at this point if you saw him, he couldn’t leave knowing something was wrong. Before you could catch the bartender’s attention, Cheol had called them over. 
      “Hey I know you’re probably tired of seeing my ass hanging around here every Friday night without even ordering anything, totally understandable. I need you to do a favor… again. That girl I’m always here for? I think something’s wrong. Give her a bag of ice for her head will you? And maybe call an ambulance if it seems bad enough?” He slid the bartender a few bills and made his way to the club’s entrance, texting Jihoon to come pick him up. Before exiting he took one last look towards the bar, and he saw you sitting on a stool with a paper towel and a bag of ice sitting gingerly on your head. With a sigh of relief, he made his way outside, the crisp air hitting his face. 
     After a long and tiring battle of insisting that you did not, in fact, need an ambulance and that your head is fine, with a little help standing up and getting steady, you made your way out of the bathroom. Your head was pounding from the music, and you knew right away that you needed to sit down as your vision began to slightly blur. Somehow you ended up at a barstool safely, and waiting in front of you was a bag of ice and a paper towel. 
     “Excuse me, sir!” you called out, not knowing whether your hoarse voice would reach the bartender’s ears. Luckily enough, the bartender turned your direction and walked over. 
     “What can I do for you tonight, miss?”
     “Uhh this bag of ice was sitting here and I’m not sure if this was from someone previously sitting here or not.” You explained, carefully fiddling with the bad. The ice hadn’t melted yet so it couldn’t have been here long. Before you could question it any further, you heard the bartender let out a chuckle.
     “Ma’am that bag is definitely for you. Someone must be real worried about you, I’ll say that much.” You carefully put the bag of ice on top of where you hit your head. You flinched slightly at the sudden temperature difference between the cold ice cubes versus the hot and humid club. 
     “Someone knew what happened in the bathroom?”
     “What the hell happened in the bathroom? You know what, I don’t wanna know. You seem to be talking fine so you don’t need an ambulance.”
     “Ok wait how can you say I don’t need an ambulance but then not know what happened-”
     “Look”, the bartender looked you in the eyes, “I don’t know what happened. All I know is the same dude has been coming by my bar for a few weeks now every Friday night. He doesn’t buy anything though. He does, however, always seem to have his eye out for you. Not in the creepy way like I’ve seen in the past though.” You blinked a few times before fully comprehending what the bartender just told you. Someone was looking out for you? You didn’t know anyone who would do such a thing, since your friends didn’t always join you on weekends. Maybe you caught someone’s eye the first night you came here? You sighed, resting your open hand against your cheek. The bartender looked at your confused face and smiled to himself. “He just left when you were stumbling out here. You might be able to catch him, I know I would. He’s a handsome fella; captivating eyes, nice cheeks, pretty lips. He’s not my type, but maybe he’s yours?” The bartender began wiping out a few glasses, walking away. 
     “He definitely does…” you trailed off, a burst of realization hitting you. If it’s who I think it is I’m going to shit myself. No, it’s just some pretty guy looking out for you, stop this wishful thinking. You set down the bag of ice and wrapped the paper towel around it. “Thank you so much for the ice, and for looking out for me!” You called you, practically running towards the entrance of the club. 
     The outside air hit you harder than you expected, helping you sober up even more after having the ice on your head. You desperately looked left and right, looking for any sign of who could have been the person helping you. Your eyes caught sight of a familiar car slowing down, as if it was coming to pick someone up. That looks like Jihoon’s car if I’m remembering correctly. Granted, I only rode in it a handful of times. You looked at where the car was headed, and that’s when you caught sight of a very familiar person. 
     “No.. it can’t be..” you whispered to yourself. “Aw fuck it, what have I got to lose?” You walked a few steps towards him. With a deep breath, you called out as best as your voice would allow. “Seungcheol!” You felt something warm against your cheeks, and after quickly wiping whatever it was away, you realized you were crying. You sniffled and called out one last time. “Seungcheol!”
     He turned to look at you. You didn’t know what to expect, nothing had really changed about him since you last saw him except for his hair color. Your eyes met his, and you became just as mesmerized as you did in the past. You didn’t realize you were staring until you noticed him moving. Seungcheol slowly made his way over to you, shouting at you presumed whoever was driving the car that he would only take a minute. He stopped in front of you, and you looked up at him. Up close you could see the small details in his facial features that weren’t there previously. His eyes were still beautiful, but they weren’t as bright as you remembered. The lines under his eyes looked a little darker, and his lips were slightly chapped. You felt something warm being put around your shoulders. You looked down and it was his jacket that he was wearing previously. 
     “Cheol I-” You stuttered out as he gently grabbed your shoulders.
     “Hey, stay safe will you? Don’t worry me too much and get home alright.” He gently patted your head and began walking back to the car. You were well aware at this point of the tears freely falling down your cheeks. You couldn’t help but let out a sob as you saw him give you one last smile and a small wave as he got into the car. As the car began to drive off, you began wondering how long he had been looking out for you and why he never chose to approach you. You felt your phone vibrate from your pocket, and you pulled it out. You chuckled as you saw who the message was from. 
     “I’ll open it some day, Cheol. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I will when I think we’re both ready” you mumbled to yourself, opening up your contacts to call your friend to come pick you up. Your friend picked up after two rings. “Hey, I know you told me not to but I went out again. Can you come get me? I.. I saw someone and I need to tell you about it.”
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clumsyclifford · a year ago
good morning 💕 (morning for me anyway) so firstly waking up to a new spidey au part is amazing & then a cute jalex prompt is even better 🙈 also i'm very excited to listen to the happy recs 😊
anyway since i had a night of too many vivid dreams i'd like to request "33. Kiss in a dream" with lashton, please? -fiancee
good morning! except you sent this at almost 4am for me and now it’s 9pm so not really morning either way but i accept the sentiment. i’m very happy u liked the fics and i hope u like the recs <3 AND i hope you like THIS fic. i fell down a rabbit hole of 5sos family instagrams so we also get a jack scene because, you know, i love him. xoxo
“Had a weird dream last night,” Luke yawns, trekking into the kitchen. Jack’s sitting on the counter, looking at his phone with a mug of coffee in his left hand. 
“Yeah?” Jack says. He doesn’t look up. “What about?”
Luke frowns. He probably shouldn’t have mentioned it, but whatever. It’s just a dream. “Have you ever kissed someone in a dream?”
Now Jack does look up, grinning. “Oh shit, really? First dream kiss! Congrats, Lukey, that’s a big deal.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Luke says defensively. He doesn’t want it to be a big deal. He has weird dreams all the time, and those aren’t big deals. Just because in this one he’d kissed his friend, doesn’t make it a bigger deal than the one where he’d been invisible in a broken-down elevator with Green Day.
“Who’d you kiss?” Jack prods, then takes a sip of his coffee. “Someone I know?”
Luke blushes. “No,” he says, except he’s always been a terrible liar.
“It totally is,” Jack says. Luke turns away, reaching for the loaf of bread on the counter and pulling out two slices. “It is! Who was it?”
“I don’t want to tell you,” Luke says, putting the bread in the toaster. 
“If I guess it, will you tell me?”
Luke sighs. “Fine.”
“No, oh my God!”
“Well, I don’t know,” Jack says, holding up his hands in surrender. “Uh, Calum’s sister?”
“No.” Luke makes a face. “Michael? Really?”
“I’m just going down my mental list of your friends,” Jack says. He gives Luke an impassive look. “There aren’t that many of them, you know. I’m bound to get it eventually.”
“Maybe it wasn’t one of my friends,” Luke challenges.
Jack waves him off. “No, it definitely was, or you’d have told me. Okay, who haven’t I said. Calum, Michael…Ashton? Was it Ashton?”
Luke reddens. He turns back to the toaster. “No.”
“It was Ashton!” Jack crows. “Hey, no shame, mate! Ashton’s cute.”
“He is not.”
“You don’t think Ashton is cute?”
Luke splutters. “He’s — that’s not the point! Stop it,” he says, pointing a finger at Jack. “I didn’t ask to dream-kiss him, okay? I’m not in control of my dreams.”
“They’ve got to come from somewhere, though,” Jack says. He grins. Jack always grins like he’s going to make fun of Luke, whether or not he actually is. “It’s fine, bro, you can want to kiss Ashton if you —”
“I don’t want to kiss Ashton!” Luke insists.
“You wouldn’t have dreamed it if you didn’t,” Jack says.
“That’s so not true! I dream weird shit all the time that I don’t actually care about.”
“Yeah, but it’s a kiss, Luke. That’s not just some random weird shit. That’s a real thing you actually dreamed about doing with a person you know. Your friend.” Jack gives him a meaningful look. “Who you think is cute.”
“This is why I don’t tell you this kind of thing,” Luke says, scowling. “It was just a dream.”
Jack shrugs. “If you say so. I don’t care.” He takes another sip of his coffee. Luke makes a face. He can’t fathom that Jack actually enjoys coffee. It smells awful. “Are you going to tell him?”
“Tell Ashton?”
“Yeah,” Jack says. “If it was just a dream, you might as well. If someone snogged me in a dream I’d want to know.” Luke supposes he’d want to know, too. Jack has him cornered, too, because if he says no, of course I won’t tell Ashton, Jack will point a victorious finger — so it wasn’t just a dream after all! But he really doesn’t want to tell Ashton, because that’s a weird thing to tell. And even if he prefaces it with this doesn’t mean anything at all, I just thought you’d be interested to know, it’s still weird. Ashton will think it’s weird.
(Also, maybe Luke has a small crush on Ashton, maybe. And he really doesn’t want to jeopardize their friendship, which is still so new.)
“Sure,” he lies. “I’ll tell him.”
Jack shakes his head and drains the last of his coffee. “You will not.”
“Why would you ask if you’re just going to argue when I say I will?” Jack laughs. “Whatever, Luke, fine. Let me know what he says.”
“I will,” Luke says stubbornly, forgetting that this is a lie. He’s not going to tell Ashton, right? He can just make something up. Yeah, he said good for me, and everything’s aces! Yeah, right. Jack’s seen through every single one of Luke’s lies this morning. Luke should invest in lying lessons, or else he’s not going to get very far at all.
“Good,” Jack says, hopping down off the counter. “And it’s your day to take the trash out, don’t forget.”
“I know,” Luke says. Jack puts his mug in the sink.
“Have fun at band practice,” he says as a farewell, and then retreats from the kitchen, maybe to go do homework or, more likely, play Fifa. Luke scowls at his back. There’s a reason he doesn’t share embarrassing shit with his brothers (Jack, specifically) anymore.
He reaches for Jack’s mug and rinses it out so the coffee doesn’t dry at the bottom, then grabs a plate for his toast and retrieves the Vegemite. The dream is exiled to the back of his mind, and he doesn’t think about it the rest of the morning.
(Doesn’t think about how much he’d like to remember exactly how it had felt, because all things considered it’s not like he’s ever going to get closer to kissing Ashton, and already the details are slipping through his fingers, until all he can remember is the warmth in his chest from knowing that someone like Ashton could have ever wanted to kiss someone like Luke.)
“Okay, we need to take a break,” Michael declares, setting aside his guitar. Michael’s not the boss of them, but Luke is inclined to agree. He’s getting bored of playing “I Miss You” over and over, and anyway he needs water. “Five minutes.”
“Five,” Ashton repeats, firmly. “And then everyone back here.”
“Sick,” Luke says, also putting his guitar down. “I’m getting water, anybody want?”
All three of his bandmates raise their hands, and Luke sighs. “I can’t carry four cups of water.” “I’ll help,” Ashton says, leaping to his feet. Calum coughs, and Ashton shoots him a look. Luke just smiles gratefully, and together they head to the kitchen.
“I really like that song,” Ashton says as Luke reaches for four plastic cups from the cabinet. 
“Me too,” Luke says. “Fun chords. And the ending is cool.”
“Yeah,” Ashton says, although he probably wouldn’t know fun chords from boring ones. But Luke appreciates the effort. 
“It looks fun to do on the drums, or,” Luke makes hitting gestures with his hands, “the cajón. You know.”
Ashton mirrors his movements, laughing. “Yeah,” he says. “It is, yeah.”
“Alright, look.” Luke scowls, but Ashton just pats his shoulder, and the look disappears pretty quickly.
“It’s fine,” he says, taking one of the cups out of Luke’s hands and thrusting it under the tap. “Tap water is fine, right?”
“Unless you see someplace else to get water,” Luke says, making a show out of glancing around the room. Ashton rolls his eyes. The smile doesn’t disappear from his lips. Luke likes that about Ashton, that he’s always smiling.
“So how are you?” Ashton asks. “I mean, aside from rehearsal? How was your morning? How were you yesterday?”
“One question at a time,” Luke jokes. “Fine, all fine. I mean, I didn’t sleep much last night because of homework, and then Jack was making fun of me this morning, but you know.”
“Making fun of you for what?”
“My —” Luke breaks off. He can’t stop now, or it’ll seem very suspicious, but they’re getting dangerously close to uncharted waters. “Just a weird dream I had.”
“Ooh, I love weird dreams,” Ashton says conspiratorially, handing off one full cup to Luke and swapping it for an empty one. “What was it?”
“No, it wasn’t that weird,” Luke tries to say, but Ashton’s face starts to fall, and Luke doesn’t want to be responsible for that. “I mean, it was just — I kissed someone, in my dream. Which was really strange. I’ve never had a dream-kiss before.”
Ashton raises an eyebrow. “Get it,” he says, and Luke ducks his head, laughing through the nerves. His face is surely burning red by now. “Who’d you kiss?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Luke says emphatically. Attempting to change to subject, he adds, “Anyway, that was right after I found out I was adopted and Billie Joe Armstrong was my real dad all along.”
“Did you kiss Billie Joe Armstrong?”
“Ew, Ashton, I just said he was my dad in my dream!”
“Well I don’t know what kind of freaky shit your mind comes up with!”
“No,” Luke says vehemently. “It was a friend, oh my God.”
Ashton immediately looks more interested. “A friend?”
Fuck. “Well,” Luke says diplomatically, “more like just a person that I know in real life. Not necessarily a friend. Could be someone from school. Or, like.”
“So a friend,” Ashton says, a teasing smile on his lips. “I can see why Jack made fun of you for this. Why don’t you just tell me who it was? I won’t laugh, I promise.”
“You will laugh,” Luke says. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“Come on,” Ashton wheedles. “What’s the worst that could happen? Can I guess?”
“No,” Luke says, because that’s exactly how Jack had gotten him this morning, and he’s not going to make the same mistake twice. “Nothing bad will happen. It’s just weird, and I don’t want to say.”
Ashton rolls his eyes. They’ve filled all four cups of water now, and there’s no reason for them to linger by the sink, yet Ashton looks like he’s not planning to move. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says. “I just thought you could. Because we’re friends. You know. If you really don’t want to, then I’m not going to make you.”
Luke stares at him, guilt rolling around his stomach. That’s not fair. Ashton’s totally manipulating him, and Luke knows that, and it shouldn’t be working, and Luke wishes it weren’t working, but it is.
Fuck. It totally is.
“Fine,” Luke sighs. “I’ll tell you, but promise you won’t make it weird?”
“I won’t make it weird,” Ashton swears.
Luke worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He picks up a cup and takes a long drink from it. “Okay, well, it was you,” he finally says, looking down at the tiles of the kitchen floor so he doesn’t have to see the look on Ashton’s face.
A beat.
“Oh.” Another beat. “That’s nice. How was I?”
Luke looks up. “Don’t make fun of me,” he says.
“I’m not!” Ashton says quickly. He cracks a smile but it’s a little uncertain. “I just want to be sure your first dream-kiss was an enjoyable experience.” Luke groans. “This is weird,” he says. “You’re making it weird.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“Well, you are. I take it back. Pretend I never said anything.” Luke takes his cup of water and moves past Ashton, but Ashton grabs his arm.
“Luke, just calm down a second. Sorry if I sounded like I was making fun. I’m just, um, I guess I’m just wondering —” He clears his throat. “Like, maybe it would be nicer in real life than in a dream?”
Slowly, Luke turns, fingers tightening around his cup. “What? Like, kissing in real life?” 
Ashton is blushing. Luke’s never seen Ashton blush before, but he’s definitely doing it now, cheeks turning patchy pink as he rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know. Yeah. I mean, it’s not really fair that you got to have a dream about kissing me and I’ve still never kissed you, in dreams or otherwise.”
“What?” Luke says dimly. “You don’t want to kiss me.”
“Well,” Ashton says, “I can pretend I don’t, if you want. I just thought — I’ve never kissed anyone in a dream that I didn’t want to actually kiss in real life, so I figured —”
“Yes, I want to kiss you,” Luke says boldly, over the sound of his heart battering his chest. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Ashton says, frowning. “I wouldn’t joke about this, what kind of person do you think I am?”
“I know, I just, um, you’re you? And I’m me,” Luke says, gesturing between them like this is some big revelation. “So I’m taking a moment to process.”
“Oh,” Ashton says. “Well, take all the time you need.”
Luke stares at him. It occurs to him that Ashton is waiting to kiss him, and that thought fills his whole body with butterflies. “Okay, I’m done,” he says, even though he’s not really, and could spend hours trying to reconcile the idea of Ashton as a person with Ashton wanting to kiss Luke and probably still come up empty. 
“That was fast,” Ashton says. “Can I kiss you now?”
“Yeah,” Luke breathes, setting his cup of water down on the counter. Ashton smiles and shuffles closer. He presses both palms to the sides of Luke’s face, and Luke’s eyes flutter shut, soaking up the heat of Ashton’s hands against his skin. Already this is better than his dream, a hundred times better. 
Then Ashton presses their lips together, gently, and all thoughts of Luke’s dream dissipate, replaced by real Ashton, actually kissing him, in real life, in Michael’s kitchen. He’s pretty sure his hands are shaking from the excitement.
Ashton pulls away and smiles, and Luke smiles back, then ducks his head, feeling far too nervous to look Ashton in the eyes.
“So?” Ashton prompts, which makes Luke look up again. “Better than the dream?”
“Oh,” Luke says, smiling like an idiot, “so much better.”
Ashton looks pleased, and Luke hopes he dreams of kissing Ashton again tonight, just so he can wake up and remember that he’s actually done it for real. 
23 notes · View notes
kettlewrites · a year ago
11400; hjs
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summary: what if the one you love is the one the universe is trying to keep you away from? (based off of black mirror)
warning: subtle angst, fem reader, you can interpret the ending. ofc the first thing vic writes when she’s back is a hjs fic. (~2.8K words) 
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The quiet ambiance of the restaurant brought your nerves down to a calmer state. You couldn’t quite figure out a way for your nerves to not feel like they were going to blow as you walked around the restaurant. Your coach device sat in the palm of your hand as you looked around for who your potential partner was.
“Who am I supposed to be looking for?” You asked the device quietly, trying not to make yourself noticeable towards the people who were already sitting enjoying their meals.
“He’s wearing a silk, black shirt.” Your coach says before recalibrating and showing a video feed of the mysterious man sitting at a dimly lit booth.
Your eyes widened as you stared at the stranger’s face through the video feed, “Are you sure that’s him?”
You felt your breath hitch at the middle of your throat, what did you do to get matched with someone so attractive? Must’ve saved a third world country in you past life or something of the essence. 
Your coach laughed before sending a smiley emoticon on the screen. It continued to buzz as you stood there staring at the silver-haired boy who wore a simple silk shirt that complimented his fair skin. Were you underdressed? All you wore was a simple black dress that you found in your closet, although you couldn’t even remember where you had gotten it from. Maybe on a weekend you went shopping and completely blacked out.
“Perhaps you should go sit with him.” Your coach laughed, buzzing once again in you hand.
What if you weren’t enough for him? What if this was going to be a complete mess? What if-
“Hey, are you ______?” A strange, yet comforting voice asked as you were staring down at your device.
You completely snapped out of your thoughts, realizing that you probably looked like a complete idiot not moving from where you were standing for the past few minutes. You looked up at him and felt your heart burst out of your chest. He was so much better looking up close, maybe the simulation matched you with the wrong person. He was like an angel on Earth...  
“U-uh. uhm. Yes?” You stuttered, “Yeah. Oh my god, hi. I’m _____.”
Just when you thought he couldn’t get more perfect, he chuckled at your embarrassment. Seriously, what did you do to get matched with someone like him?
“I know, let’s go sit down. Our food should be out soon.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
After sitting with Jisung for another ten minutes, you felt as if your nerves completely vanished with how he went out of his way to help you feel more comfortable.
“Is this your first time?” Jisung asked, looking up at you with his almost puppy like eyes. You were so captivated in his eyes, they looked like they held the entire universe in them.
“Yeah,” You smiled, “I thought I should give it a try.” Your heart began to race once again when Jisung reflected the same smile.
“Same here,” Jisung laughed, “I thought why not try to find my one true love.”
The two of you laughed at the thought of finding the one through a stupid dating application. It was just something to do for fun in hopes of something possibly blossoming. Yet, maybe you had begun to believe in the concept because maybe you were already on top of the world with Jisung.
You were nervous enough to be on the date already. Your previous relationships made you insecure about yourself, never feeling like you were quite enough for anyone. Even with the dating coach trying to set you up with people who would be your perfect match, you couldn’t help but to wonder how this will all end up for the both of you.
“Do you think we should check our expiry dates now or after we eat?” Jisung asked, shaking his coach device by his head with another huge smile. “Why not now? What’s the harm in finding out?”
“You’re right.” And you felt your heart burst once again when Jisung’s eyes turned into complete crescent moons when he smiled so widely.
The both of you grabbed your devices and slid to the option of the locked expiry date. Seeing the terms and conditions flash before your eyes before looking at each other and nodding. 
‘4 hours.’
“Oh.. that’s all?” You mumbled almost in shock, “That can’t be right, does yours say the same?”
Jisung looks at his device and nods feeling the sadness wash over him, “only four hours together?”
“Maybe it’ll go up after we finish eating.” Jisung mumbled when the waiter set down their food, “I hope it’ll go up.”
Your faces lit up when the entrees were set on the table. Jisung’s coach had played it safe and ordered a burger for him, whereas your coach seemed to go for the adventurous side with ordering an entire platter of sushi.
“This looks amazing.” Jisung said in awe, almost like he hadn’t ever seen anything so delicious. You nodded at your entree as well, seemingly wondering if you had ever eaten anything that looked too perfect.
While the two of you began to eat, Jisung started using icebreaker questions to help you feel more comfortable with being on the date. Even if he was stuttering the questions because he could hear his heart beating out of his chest whenever you puffed your cheeks out to think of how to answer.
“Is your food good?” Jisung asked, looking at you stuffing your face. You almost choked on your food while smiling and nodding, “extremely.”
He looked down at his half eaten burger before looking back up at you with the biggest puppy eyes that he could pull off, “I can try?”
If Jisung hadn’t already made you feel like your heart was going to explode, that moment just took the cake for it.
“Of course.” You nodded before picking up your chopsticks to feed a piece to Jisung, causing the both of you to laugh loudly when half of it fell into his lap.
You both couldn’t stop laughing, your bellies rumbled with your hearty laughs bouncing all around the restaurant as on-lookers stared. Jisung could feel the tears rushing down his face while he picked up the other half that didn’t make it to his mouth. Not even a minute passed by before Jisung was choking on the other half he forgot was in his mouth, his hand frantically pounding on his chest as he swallowed the entire thing without chewing and you were dying at the sight.
“Oh god, are you okay?”
His life flashed before his eyes, but just seeing you laughing so hard made his heart soar.
“I.. I think so.” Jisung mumbled before taking a giant gulp of water before looking around the room, seeing that all eyes were on you. Eerily enough you felt it too, it also felt like no one was breathing either as well. Why did it feel so weird being the center of attention? He almost choked didn’t he? You both were just enjoying yourselves.
You looked back to Jisung who was wiping the tears from the brim of his eyes, wondering if he had felt weird about everyone’s stares too.
“Everything okay?”
You could feel your breath quicken before you shook your head, feeling anxious with everyone staring. You even noticed before that the waiter had begun to stare you down when Jisung asked if he could try a piece of your food. Was this normal? Did you truly forget what it was like to be on a date in public?
“Do you want to leave?” Jisung whispered, placing his hand on top of your shaking ones, “We can go now if you want.”
“Let’s go.” You finally said with your voice still trembling. It didn’t make any sense, why were you so scared? And what were you scared of to begin with?
You both got up from the table, the eyes of the patrons following your every move. How could you even describe how eerily terrifying this was to Jisung, who seemed like nothing was phasing him? Maybe he just had a better poker face than you did.
You didn’t have a set destination of where to go once you left the restaurant. Strangely enough, you couldn’t remember where you lived nor could Jisung. Plus you had agreed not to take the taxi that the coach device had booked, which was already waiting outside when you walked out of the doors. 
“All of this is strange.” Jisung said after plopping himself down on the dewy grass beside you. The lake was only a five minute walk for you, however neither of you even remembered a lake being there to begin with.
“Yeah.. now that I think about it I don’t really remember much about my life before this date.” You responded, staring at the lake’s calm ripples. As hard as you tried, you could barely remember what you did before you got to the restaurant.
“We have a few hours left together.”
The two of you looked at your coach device screens, the big countdown timer flashing brightly in your faces. Two hours. Did the time really go by that quickly?
“Do you think most expiry dates are always this short?” Neither of you had any experience to compare your dates to. You didn’t really know what to say after Jisung asked the question besides look at the lake. 
“I wished it was longer.” You mumbled, turning to face him. Jisung couldn’t help but to agree, there was so much more that he wanted to learn about you. Your favorite color, what you were like when you got sad or how you would shine whenever you were doing something you liked. Jisung wanted to know more, yet you both weren’t allowed to. Except why.. is that?
“Why is there an expiry date to begin with?” You felt yourself getting angry. Wondering why a stupid circular device that you don’t even remember where you bought was telling you when to stop talking to a potential lover. Wondering why this all was supposed to make sense. Wondering… how you even got to this point in your life.
“Maybe it’s beyond us, why don’t we just make the most of it?” Jisung chuckled, hoping to make light of the situation. Why waste time wondering about something that you couldn’t even change?
The both of you laid back on the grass side by side, Jisung’s hand finding his way into yours as you stared at the sky and beautiful stars.
“I think that’s a constellation.” Jisung said, pointing at the random shape of stars that made it look almost like a heart.
“What constellation looks like a messed up heart?” You laughed, trying to point with the hand that was holding Jisung’s before realizing.
“I think it’s called… Jisung’s feelings.”
You both giggled before seeing the shape shift apart. Neither of you could help thinking about the inevitable countdown.
“Maybe it was called _____’s feelings too because I feel the same way.”
“The same way?”
You sat up and looked down at Jisung who was still laying on the grass, “the ‘I really like you and want to get to know you more because you seem just my type’ way.”
“Thank god because I was starting to think I was the only one who felt that way here.” “Jisung I was holding your hand!” 
One hour. Your devices were buzzing like crazy when the final hour arrived. Jisung could have sworn that it was just flashing two hours. He didn’t want to go yet. There was just so much more that he wanted to do with you and you could almost one hundred percent agree on how he was feeling.
“What do you think happens when it’s finished?” You asked, staring back at the now clear sky. 
Jisung stared at the moon, almost like he was trying to ask it for answers but unfortunately it didn’t talk back to him. He tried to think hard but nothing made sense to him. Everything about this situation didn’t make sense to him. However the only thing that Jisung felt made sense was his urge to stay with you just a little bit longer.
“Maybe nothing.” Jisung hoped for that most of all. Maybe it was an optional time limit together, maybe you didn’t even have to go by it at all.
“I hope so… I don’t want this night to end yet.”
Thirty minutes. Your hearts were racing, neither of you could fight the thought of your time together lessening as you tried to distract yourselves. You found out Jisung’s common fun facts, while Jisung found out about your dreams and what you liked to do. Except both couldn’t answer what you planned to do after this date was over. How could you? All you two were thinking about was how to lengthen your times together.
“I don’t want this to end yet.” Jisung whispered, tightening his hold on your hand.
One minute. The two of you were sitting face to face as you tried to fight back the tears. Why were you crying? You both have only just met, right? How did it make sense, but why did it feel like you were losing a piece of yourselves at the thought of having to say goodbye?
“Jisung I don’t want to go yet.” You cried, feeling the hot tears run down your cheeks. Jisung cried with you, but cupped your cheeks and smiled as brightly as he could.
“Then we don’t.” Jisung wiped the tears off of your cheeks. He didn’t know what he meant when saying that, but all he wanted was for you to stop crying. He wanted to stop crying himself. The more the thought about this, the more it started to make less sense to him. He had only just met you, yet why did he feel such a strong connection together? Why was it like there was a thread that tied the both of you together that he didn’t want to disconnect yet?
Both devices begun to ring noisily, there was no way of ignoring the loud alarm that had set off once the countdown reached zero. Jisung looked back and forth between you and the device.
“We don’t have to go if we don’t want to.” Jisung affirmed, before taking his device and throwing it into the lake. You stared at Jisung in disbelief before doing the same, still hearing the blaring alarm in your ears.
“We don’t have to go if we don’t want to.” You repeated softly over and over again as you both stared at the devices sinking to the bottom of the lake.
“See.. nothing.” Jisung sighed in relief, before cupping your cheeks again. “May I?”
You nodded and smiled, “please.”
With that, Jisung pressed his lips against yours. Everything about this kiss felt so right, except it felt so familiar too. Your heart beating faster and faster as Jisung continued to kiss you. Your worlds feeling like they fell away, nothing was left except for the two of you. And that was all you could ever want except the universe had other opinions because right as Jisung was about to tell you to never leave, your world went dark.
Your eyes stung when you opened them, wondering what had just happened. You wondered if what you just went through was real or was it just a dream. You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes noticing that they were puffier than usual and your cheeks felt tear stained. Maybe it was real?
“Babe?” A tired, familiar voice whispered as you were rubbing your eyes. You put your hands down and looked to the side of you. Jisung.
Did you dream about everything? Was everything just a fragment of your wild imagination?
“Jisung..” You said in almost disbelief. There wasn’t any easy way to help yourself wrap your head around what was even going on in your mind. It was like your brain was running a mile a minute while trying to figure out everything that had just happened. Was none of that real?
“It’s like six in the morning.. Let’s go back to sleep baby.” Jisung whined, pulling you back into his arms.
As you laid pressed against the warmth of his bare chest, you began to wonder about if what you just went through was real or not, but it didn’t matter to you in the end. Real or not, you got your happy ending and you wouldn’t change it for the world.
998 Rebellions logged out of 1000 Simulations. Congratulations on beating the system… and finding your one true love.
79 notes · View notes
dcbbw · a year ago
Three’s Company (Wacky Drabble #55)
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Back in March, I wrote a birthday fic for the wonderfully amazing @cocomaxley​ in which her MC (Gen) dumped longtime boyfriend Levi Schuler (because he was a slacker who was banging Tara Day), moved to NYC , began working for everyone’s favorite PI, Damien Nazario, and met the love of her life, Rashad Domvallier. (That is an awfully long sentence!)
In the fic, I alluded to Damien being in a throuple with (female) Kai and (Asian male) Hayden, and a couple of folks expressed interest in learning more about that. And now, five months later, I present to you the fic no one actually asked for.
This fic will also serve as my #WackyDrabble submission this week. The prompt is: This is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in. The prompt will appear in bold.
I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please excuse any typos and/or grammatical errors.
A HUGE thank you to pre-readers in whole and part, @ao719​ and @burnsoslow​, and to a special thank you to @sirbeepsalot​ for beta.
All characters belong to Pixelberry.
Song Inspiration: Patterns in the Sky, Easton:
Word Count: 1,944
I smile and wave goodbye to Rashad and Genevieve as I make my way up the bustling avenue. Out of habit, I fall back so I am closer to the rear of the after-work crowd. I prefer following to being followed. I wonder what to pick up for dinner, despite it being Hayden’s night to cook. The man can’t cook. He speaks several languages fluently, has super strength, and can massage for hours. But he is no Betty Crocker.
I think about what we have in the house to cook: We have all the ingredients for a killer spaghetti, but I think that will be tomorrow’s dinner. Tomorrow is Kai’s night to cook, but she’s another one who can barely make a sandwich.  I’m the cook in the house; we have a schedule where we’re supposed to rotate chores, but none of us ever adhere to it. We play to our strengths, and cooking is mine.
I reach the corner and realize I’m not too far from Avenue U Fish Market, and I head that way. Fresh haddock, fried potatoes, and corn on the cob sounds absolutely delicious right now. As I navigate the New York City crowd, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and see it’s Kai calling.
“Hey, gorgeous!” I greet her.
“Will you be home soon?” she asks in a breathy voice with the slightest hint of whine.
“You guys are starving, huh? What do you think about fried fish and potatoes?”
“As long as you’re cooking it. Some meals are just not the same when you order out.”
“Headed to the fish market now, and then I’ll be coming home.”
“We both miss you, sweetie.”
“And I miss both of you.”
We blow kisses before hanging up. I feel like the luckiest man in all the state right now and am suddenly eager to get home. I find myself jogging the last few blocks to the market.
I am stepping out of the cab with my bags when I hear the house door open; it’s Hayden, coming to help me carry the purchases inside. I pay the cabbie, and once I shut the car door, give Hayden a tender kiss on his lips.
“Kai wants to talk over dinner,” he informs me as we climb the stairs of our rowhouse.
I nod. I know what she wants to talk about: Kai wants us to think about starting a family, something only I can give her. For all of Hayden’s prowess in bed, microchips cannot fertilize oocytes. For all of his realistic qualities, Hayden is a match and not a human. It has the potential to be a touchy subject, not just in the now but for the future as well. How to explain to little children Hayden’s short circuiting and malfunctions? True, they are infrequent, but they do happen.
Loving a robot is easy; maintaining a long-term relationship that involves home ownership and a mutual girlfriend who’s ready to begin the race to beat her biological clock is where the hard work and heavy lifting comes in.
“How’re you feeling about it?” I ask as we stand at the front door.
Hayden shakes his head, his black hair flopping against his forehead. “We knew it was coming. We know I can’t give her that. I just worry where I’ll fit in when we do start a family.” His voice cracked slightly.
Our brown eyes lock, and I lean forward to kiss his forehead. “You’ll be a daddy, that’s where you’ll fit in.”
He gives me a sweet smile as I follow him into the house. I let out a sigh of relief; it’s good to be home.
Our home.
After the Eros chaos was behind us and we decided we wanted a shared relationship, Kai, Hayden, and I sat down to discuss living arrangements. We would need space, and our individual apartments would not work.
“Are you suggesting we buy a … house?” Kai had asked in disbelief.
“Why not?” I countered. “We want to be together; cohabitation is the first step towards that. We’re all living in one-bedroom apartments that have a max of 500 square feet. I have enough saved up and a decent enough credit score for down payment. We’ll split the mortgage and utilities.”
Both Kai and Hayden looked doubtful. I didn’t press the issue. Two days later we went out to dinner; over chimichangas, deep fried chicken cutlets, and Spanish rice they agreed to go house hunting. I eyed them dubiously. Kai is notoriously stubborn and usually points out the problems, not the solutions. Hayden … I’m just surprised he didn’t recite a financial analysis forecasting housing market trends for the next five years.
“Are you sure? Because there’s no backing out.”
Kai laid her hand softly on top of mine. “We’re together. We’re a team.”
Hayden grinned as he grabbed a chimichanga. “This is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in.”
He placed his hand on top of Kai’s and I smile through misty eyes. A relationship I never expected was the one to change my life.
Hayden and I are walking down the narrow hall to the kitchen, and I see Kai come in through the back door. She holds a tall, cobalt blue water bottle in one hand; a smile splits her face. “Hey, you!”
Her dark brown hair frames her face with frizzy curls; her eyes are wide and sparkling. My breath catches when I see her. I have been in love with Kai for a long time, nearly as long as I’ve known her. Ironically, it took Eros to bring us together. I think I may love her even more because she’s the one who brought Hayden and I together.
She waits until the bags are on the counter before giving me a wet, tongue-filled kiss. She tastes of fruit punch and rum. I chuckle when I break the kiss. “Bamba punch?”
She nods happily.
“Do I have any rum left?” I ask with a lifted eyebrow.
She ignores me, asking Hayden about his day. I shake my head in exasperation and amusement. Thank God I stopped at the liquor store.
We chatter about our days: Hayden is a researcher at the Natural History Museum. You know those placards that tell you about the items on exhibit and display? He writes those; he researches the hell out of the item, then condenses that information to ten lines or less in words and terms everyone can understand.
A few friends of mine helped me get the documentation necessary to make Hayden Young both a US citizen and a resident of New York State. I don’t have friends in high places; I have friends in useful places.
Kai is the receptionist at the Brooklyn Area Food Bank. Their motto is: care, commitment, change. I tease her constantly that I have no idea how she got the job.
After more chatter and kisses, I chase them out of the kitchen so I can cook; they disappear to the small backyard. I hear the murmur of their voices as they enjoy the last of the evening sunshine. I work quickly with dinner: I soak the haddock filets in milk to absorb both the fishy odor and taste. I slice the potatoes and husk the corn. I rummage in the refrigerator and cupboards for ingredients and spices.
I am pouring myself a drink when my phone rings. I frown as I wipe my hands on a paper towel before retrieving it. I have no idea who it could be. Gen is my first thought, but quite sure she is with Rashad, sipping chocolate martinis and eating prawns stuffed with crab meat and cheese right now. I see the number and feel my heart stop.
Drake Walker.
The second person to break my heart. I wonder what he wants. My eyes flit guiltily to the window, where my present and my future sit. No one knows about Drake except Rashad. I know I shouldn’t answer; the past has nothing new to say. But I’m curious.
It’s been three years. What could he want?
I had been home a few days after my latest assignment with Interpol. The days had been spent re-adjusting to a new time zone and being de-briefed and evaluated after almost being killed when the operation went to shit. After every assignment I told myself I was going to quit, but never did. This time was different; death had come too close to knocking on my door, and I was tired of seeing the bloodshed, the violence.
The world couldn’t be that terrible. I wanted to see the good again.
I decided I would go down to the neighborhood bar, but on the way, I passed a gentleman’s club. I was willing to part with some cash to see half-naked women, and they had a late-night happy hour going on. Inside, the club was dim, lit only by track lighting. I made my way to the bar and sat next to a younger guy with brown hair that was a tad too long and a scowl on his face.
I ordered rum and glanced over to see what he was drinking. I saw him signal the bartender and ask for whiskey. I spoke to him, mostly to ensure my social skills were still up to par; he responded with surly one-word answers. I shrugged and drank, listening to the music pump loudly through speakers as my eyes wandered occasionally to the stage. I was startled when the surly stranger spoke to me.
“You ever been in love?”
I sip and nod slowly. “Once.”
“It sucks!” He tossed back his drink in one swallow.
“Love doesn’t suck. People who don’t know how to love suck.”
“Oh, didn’t know I was drinking with Socrates.”
I chuckled. “I go by Damien.” I extended my hand in his direction.
He shook it with a firm grip. “Drake. Drake Walker.”
He ended coming home with me. That was the hottest, sweatiest summer I ever spent with someone. I still can’t define what we had. It was more than an affair, less than a relationship. It began with heartbreak and desperation, escalated to lust, and stopped just shy of love. But I wanted him … in my bed, in my life … and he seemed to want the same.
Until a phone call from a man named Leo from a place called Cordonia. About Drake’s ex named Liam. And Drake left. Packed his clothes, kissed my lips, and left. The shutting of the door covered the sound of my heart breaking.
I decide to ignore the call; I’m happy again. I’m in love again. We drink beers on hot summer nights, smoke some weed when we’ve had stressful days. We all sleep in the same bed, waking up in a tangle of limbs and sheets. We uber to get greasy burgers and tacos from late night drive-thrus, and dance to salsa in the living room. We argue and get jealous and go days without speaking to each other when we’re angry.
We want to start a family.
Life is good. My world is right.
But I’m curious.
The phone rings again as I am placing the last of the breaded fish in hot grease. The potatoes are frying, and the corn is simmering in cream and butter.
Once again, I glance furtively out the window at the two people who are the reason I breathe.
I glance down at the phone.
Drake Walker.
My finger hovers over the accept button for a moment before I tap it.
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illfoandillfie · a year ago
Oh my gosh what about 40 except it’s her who texts the wrong person? With any of the boys I can’t choose lol
40. Called/texted the wrong person but she he was into it anyway.
Okay babe, this was a Very Good prompt. Originally didn’t plan to have quite so much smut but hhhhhhhh its midnight and i am worked the fuck up after a day of writing these things. Also it’s like 1500 words so I’m gonna chuck this one under a cut.
Also also, I went with Gwil because I haven’t had any gwil recs so blease be kind I don’t write him so often.
“u up? I need u” you sent the text quickly, hoping the guyyou’d had an off and on fuck buddy setup with would be around to answer.
“It’s 1am, why do you need me?”
More words than you’d expected. Normally he’d reply with athumbs up or down. But you didn’t think about it too much before replying. “myvibes out of batteries and my fingers aren’t working”
There was a long pause. Also unusual. Normally if he wasfree he’d reply within seconds. You glanced back up at the previous messages.Why was there a text in there about leaving your sweater at his place? You hadn’tbeen to his place recently. Your brain ticked over, slowly putting the piecesof the puzzle together until you realised your mistake. You took another lookat the name of the person you’d texted. GWILYM. Oh fuck. With all the speed youcould muster you began typing out a quick apology and explanation but beforeyou could hit send he’d responded.
“Poor baby girl. Can’t leave you like that, can we. Yours ormine?”
That was the last thing you’d expected him to say. Youshould let him know you’d texted him by accident though, shouldn’t you? Thatwas the polite thing to do. Your thumb hovered over the send button but youdrew it back again. The thing was, he was apparently not opposed to the idea.And if you told him you’d been thinking of someone else then he’d probably loosehis nerve or his interest. And really that would just leave you to booty call aguy who may or may not respond. But this was an almost guaranteed fuck. Sure,the potential for awkwardness was much higher but Gwil was very attractive andit wasn’t like you hadn’t considered it before. You deleted half the apologymessage and stopped again, reconsidering. Maybe he’d been joking. You retypedthe next three words of the apology. But he didn’t sound like he was joking. Sofuck it. Right? Yeah, fuck it. You’d just fuck Gwil instead of the guy younormally went to. You finished deleting the apology quickly typing back “mine?”
“I’ll be there in 10,” It came through a lot faster than theprevious messages. Okay. So he was coming over and he was eager. You lookedaround your room to make sure it was tidy enough for company, swinging yourlegs out of bed and walking towards your front door to wait. You stood, armsfolded over your chest for a couple of minutes, but the chill of the tiles creptup your bare legs, so you began pacing up and down the corridor, waiting forGwil to arrive. Around ten minutes later you heard a knock on your door, startlingyou from your reverie. You didn’t bother pretending to wait a few minutes,instead opening the front door before he’d managed to lower his fist. You weretoo worked up to worry about whether or not you looked desperate.
“Hi,” he said as soon as he saw you, “apparently you needme?”
All you could manage was to nod as you stepped out of thewalkway, letting him in.
“You that needy you can’t even talk?” He chuckled softly,dropping his overnight bag by the door and stepping in close to drag his thumbover your lips. You watched his eyes slowly creep up your body, taking in your nakedlegs and the oversized shirt you wore, “Good thing I’m here then, isn’t itdarling? Your room’s down this way, if I remember correctly?”
He laughed again as he let you go, turning to walk towardsyour room, trusting you’d follow. Which you did, of course.
“I think I know what the answer to this is but I’ve gottaask anyway, I was a wrong number right?”
“Yeah,” you said sheepishly, closing your bedroom doorbehind you.
“But you’re still okay with me being here?”
“Yes. I just really really need a good fuck,”
“Don’t worry about that, darling, you’ll get what you want.But you need to understand something. I’m not just some fuck. I don’t expect usto date after tonight or even for this to happen again. But I’m not just arandom booty call you can use and then lose. Okay? So if that’s a problem foryou, speak up now.”
“No, there’s no problem. I understand.”
“Good girl,”
You felt a shiver run through you with his praise. Or maybethat was because he was once again standing in your personal space, slippinghis hands under the hem of your shirt. You had to grab onto his arm forstability when his elegant fingers came into contact with your core.
“You poor desperate little thing. Completely soaked already.”
“Please Gwil, I want you so bad.”
“I know sweetheart. But, while you might be ready, I’m not. Youable to help me out?”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth you were droppingto your knees, making short work of his fly and pushing his pants down hislegs. He calmly told you to wait as he stepped out of them and added his shirtto the pile before finally allowing you to touch him. With a look up at him tomake sure he was okay with the morning’s events you leaned in and ran yourtongue along his half hard length. You went as slow as you could manage consideringyou were running on pure need, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses up and down hisshaft until he grew impatient enough to warningly say your name. You took thehint, switching to suck on his tip as you pumped him slowly. He tangled his fingersinto your hair, making you hum as you slowly bobbed your head over him. He hadto remind you to be patient n a few times, his voice a low growl and his gripon your hair tightening slightly. But you could hardly be blamed for want tomove things along a little faster. You were just about dripping with how badlyyou wanted him in your pussy.
Eventually he relented, praising you for being such a goodlittle cockslut, sucking him off so well.
“But you want more, don’t you darling? Want me to fuck yourneedy little pussy?”
“God yes Gwil, please.”
He held his hand out to help pull you to your feet, “How doyou want me?”
“I don’t care,”
“Alright, I suppose you’ve waited long enough. On the bed,on your back. I’m going to watch your pretty face when you cum and I expect tohear you moaning my name.”
He didn’t have to wait long to hear it, a rough, “oh fuckGwil,” falling from your lips as soon as he entered you. The slight burn fromthe stretch only made it more delicious as you finally got what you’d so badlyneeded. Another shaky moan was pulled from you as he readjusted your position,lifting your legs up over his shoulders, letting him sink even deeper. Hestarted carefully, giving you a moment or two to adjust to him before he beganrolling his hips against yours. Almost gentle at first but your pleading formore, faster, harder had him changing his pace, thrusting into you roughly,making you cry out with every one. And he kept up a string of praise, callingyou a good girl for being so vocal for him, telling you how turned on he wasbut how fucking wet you were, how good you felt. You shook when you finally came,finally got the release you’d been craving, Your voice caught in your throatand you grabbed at the sheets so tight you thought you might have ripped themwith your nails. He kept fucking you through it, even when his own release hit,his grunts puncturing the air until you were choking out his name.
Carefully he pulled out of you. You were vaguely aware thathe’d got up, left the room, half expecting to find him gone when you finallysummoned the strength to move. But he returned a minute later with a glass ofwater and a warm cloth.
“Do you mind?” He asked, holding the cloth up. You shookyour head, and he cleaned you up as carefully as he could. When he was done hegave you a hand to sit up and handed you the water.
“Drink, Y/N.”
You mumbled a small thank you and gulped down the entireglass.
“Yes, thanks. Are you staying?”
“If that’s alright. I brought an overnight bag but I wasn’tsure.”
“I’d like it if you did. Plus, you must be tired after that,can’t ask you to drive now.”
He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“I’m gonna go pee. I’ll grab a change of sheets on my wayback.”
“Wait, put this back on,” He handed you the shirt you’d beenwearing when he arrived and you noticed his underpants were back in place.
Together you managed to get the sheets changed, and thencollapsed onto the bed, snuggling in close to each other.
“I don’t know if I want to know but can I ask how I compareto the guy you meant to text?”
“So much better. He usually leaves as soon as we’re done.”
“Maybe you should forget his number. Call me again.”
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