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sukirichi · 3 years

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— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist !

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything �� that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

7K notes · View notes

chippedaxe · 3 years

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•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Title: Irritated Arousal

Warning(s): cursing, NSFW, thigh f!cking, sub reader, tell me if I should add more warnings.

Pronouns: They/Them, non specific anatomy

Synopsis: Karl with a reader that gets angry when they’re h word <3

Pairing: c!Karl X Sub! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Note: unedited* idk why I wrote this? I was just bored one night and couldn’t think of anything else to do.

- also don’t bully the title, LITERALLY couldn’t think of anything better!

- also I copied and pasted this from my notes instead of writing it on tumblr so that’s why it might look a bit weird or different!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Your head whipped around to stare blankly at the silly boy “what?” You spat out at him as he stared back dumbfounded “why’re you upset, is it because of me?” He poked your cheek innocently and you slapped his hand away.

“Yes! It is- go away!” You waved him off “please tell me what’s wrong! What did I do???” He started nagging at you and pulling at your clothes which annoyed you even more “stop it Karl!” You exclaimed “ah- sorry!” He pulled away and apologised “I just- I’m really annoyed right now!” Your face was tinted with what he thought was anger but was really embarrassment.

You knew how you got when you were horny and you knew the crabby attitude that you were portraying was just a front to hide how desperate you are. You crossed your arms and tried to take it off your mind, trying to avoid Karl as well.

“Come on sweetheart, what did I do wrong?” Karl caressed your cheek and you shivered slightly “don’t do that- I told you! I’m just annoyed!” You pushed him away “would it be better if I let you alone for a bit?” Karl got up to give you some space but you stopped him “Yes! Wait- no? Maybe? ugh- I don’t know!” You held your head in your hands.

Your thought process is literally fucked when you’re horny, most of the time you’re unable to think of things other than sex when you’re aroused. “Can I do anything to make you feel better?” Karl gave a sweet smile, you knew exactly how you wanted to answer that but hesitated.

“Maybe..” you considered whether or not to just straight out tell him, you’d expect him to tease you for being cranky over something so silly. “What can I do for you, honey?” Karl leaned back on the couch “you.. could..” you tried to think of something but your mind only led you back to one thing. Sex.

“AH! You’re a stupid nerd!” You shouted and then stomped off, you were obviously irritated and a bit annoyed but you didn’t wanna say or do anything that would actually be damaging. “Stupid? I’m literally the smartest person in the world” he joked around and you gave him a weird look.

“Aw come on! I thought you’d like that!” He lowered his head, you sighed in defeat. He was really trying to cheer you up even though he didn’t know what was wrong! You may as well tell him your problem, right? I mean he should be happy to help!

“What is it?” He noticed your sigh and came over to caress your face, you lowered your head and buried your face in his chest as you confessed sheepishly “I’m horny.” He gave out a little laugh “sorry- what?” He asked again “I’m.. horny!” Your face was full of embarrassment, you felt slightly humiliated.

“Is that all? I thought you were really upset with me for a moment!” He snickered, his lips pressing to your cheek for a moment. He straightened his back “alright then- we walking back to the bedroom or are you happy for me to take you here on the couch?” You pouted at his question, obviously you didn’t care where he stuffed his dick inside of you!

You didn’t bother to move so he just assumed you wanted to fuck on the couch, Karl got on top of you and started to lean in for a kiss. You snubbed him and turned your head, you still weren’t feeling happy with how long he took to figure out you were horny!

“Still mad? That’s alright, I’ll fuck the happiness into you! Or at least fuck the anger out” Karl kissed your temple lovingly “shut up” you tried not to smile at his silliness “make me!” Karl tried to kiss you again but this time you let him, his lips capturing yours in a passionate and loving kiss.

His lips were warm and soft, it made you melt underneath him- or the anger might just be melting you. You reached up and took a hand full of his hair, using it to deepen the kiss. Your tongue made its way into his mouth, the pink muscle slithering around every crevice of his mouth.

He pulled away for air, his face red and Karl’s hair sticking to his forehead. He was panting and starting to become really sweaty “aw gross! You’re all sweaty!” You complained but he laughed “oh baby, I know you love it!” He kissed your cheek again.

Karl unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off “it’s starting to really get hot in here” he sighed when the cold air hit his body. Karl then took your shirt off for you and inspected your body, the way he looked at it was like he’d never seen it before, like this was the last time and he’d never see it again.

You squirmed under his predatory like gaze “don’t stare at me like that, hun’ it’s making me feel exposed..” you complained lightly “oh I’m sorry darling, didn’t mean to make you feel ‘exposed’” he laughed to himself as he slowly leaned in and began leaving light kisses along your jawline.

You tilted your head back a bit to allow him more room, he smiled against your skin and began to suck a little bit as he kissed your jaw. His hands roamed your chest curiously, pinching and grabbing at the soft flesh. You whined out loud as he groped you up, hands clawing at the couch.

“Y-you’re taking too long..” you voiced your complaints, feeling slightly agitated at how he was testing your patience “just thought you might like a bit of foreplay, forgive me..” Karl caressed your cheek. You slapped his hand away and huffed “I’ll hurry it up now then, pants off please darling” he smiled at you.

You pulled your pants down your thighs and let it drop to the floor, thumbs hooking under the waist band of your underwear and sliding them off as well. Karl leaned back and admired your body, eyes glazing over every nook and cranny.

Karl gently parted your legs, his eyes immediately being drawn to your aching hole. “Oh darling, that looks painful.. let me help you” he lowered his hand down and allowed one of his slender fingers to curl up inside of you. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand, eyes squinting to look at him.

“Is this too much?” He asked you, you shook your head and decided to be a bit of a brat “n-not enough.” You told him. Karl’s smile faltered for a bit but then returned when he shoved a second finger into you, your hole taking his hand so easily.

Your tight fleshy walls clenched around his two fingers, your breathing became a bit more heavy as you were starting to get close. “G-gonna cum..” you warned Karl “oh? Already? But I thought you wanted me to fuck you..” he pouted at you. You could see that he was obviously teasing you but you still gave him what he wanted.

You opened your legs up more and looked at him through your eyelashes, head tilting downward slightly “I want you to fuck me still..” you spoke quietly. Karl smiled and pulled his hand away from your hole which made you whine, you then quickly dismissed your negative feelings as he replaced his two fingers with his penis.

Karl slid himself into you gently, your hole already being stretched open- sucking him in. You leaned your head back and arched your back a bit, your hips aching from the hold that Karl had on them.

Karl gripped your hips tightly, starting to thrust against you. His balls slapped your ass with every thrust he did, the sounds of skin on skin echoing around the room. You hoped your disturbing noises wouldn’t be heard from outside.

You squealed and struggled to keep your mouth shut as Karl pressed himself deeper inside of you, the head of his cock pressing against your insides. Karl let out a soft groan as he rocked his hips against you, nails gently dragging along your thigh which left light scratch marks.

You couldn’t help letting out a loud moan, feeling much better letting it out than to conceal your pleasure. Karl started going faster the moment you started being more vocal which only encouraged you to stop being quiet.

You were sure the whole SMP could hear the two of you now, heaving sweaty bodies pressed to each other with the sounds of clapping and groaning in the room. Your hands wrapped around Karl’s torso, nails threatening to scratch his skin.

Tears pricked at your eyes gently as you felt what may have been the best orgasm of your entire life about to approach, you tapped Karl and tried to make it clear that you couldn’t hold on for him any longer and you had to let go “g-gonna cum!!” You exclaimed “that’s okay baby, do it for me..” he encouraged.

You let go, cumming around his cock. Juices from you started to leak out of your hole and onto your thighs, making you groan in annoyance “oh perfect.. Baby, you don’t mind if I get off with your thighs, do you?” Karl smiled up at you.

You shrugged and laid down, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath, feeling a bit sensitive as Karl pulled out of you and slid himself between your legs. His dick slipped between both of your thighs closed together.

He started to fuck himself against you, now only thrusting for his own pleasure and enjoyment “oh thank you, baby..” he moaned out softly. His hands gripped onto your soft plushy thighs, his cock twitching against you which let you know he was about to cum.

Karl shuddered, his hips pausing their movement as he suddenly came; cum shooting out onto your thighs and covering a bit of your stomach. “Ah! Thank you!”Karl flopped on top of you, arms hugging your sweet body “No problem but I’m all dirty now!” You complained “I guess we’ll have to bathe together then, my dear” Karl chuckled before kissing your forehead and getting up to run you two a shower.

#mcyt x reader smut #mcyt smut #karl jacobs smut #c!karl smut #dsmp smut #dsmp x reader smut #dream smp smut #dream smp x reader smut #dreamsmp smut #dreamsmp x reader smut #not requested #smut fic

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bemylord · 3 years

Text

being their girlfriend/dating them

or they're as your boyfriend

character: sukuna, itadori, nanami, satoru, megumi.

warnings: fluff to smut hdc, curse words, kinda rough and soft boys + sukuna.

note: or they're as your boyfriend/dating them

ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ

i don't think he'd call it relationship or love. just the bond that binding you're together. he also doesn't talkative a lot, he prefers to show you his feelings in actions.

as long as itadori is searching fingers, you'll exist in his domain, being the slave and queen in one time. he'd praising and teach you new techniques, but also may use your body as he wants it.

praising to the degradation - generally, nothing new. if you had been bad either you did something on purpose, there will be no mercy for your body and throat - the king knows the way to punish you.

the cute thing is when you are exhausted from the little practice sukuna does in his small domain: breath had been taken away and your body is sweating. all you want is a little break to catch your breath. despite his selfish and demolished nature, he gives you some time in his lap to debilitate your sluggish body. your arms are wrapping around sukuna's neck by accident - it may seem he doesn't give a damn about it, but he pulls you by the waist, put your head on his athletic chest, and have you in arms 'till you'll wake up.

'you are too weak, brat, more energy, put more fury on me, or did you forgotten that i'm the fucking king of this world?' he laughed, knocking off your attacks. he's got a god complex and perfection. 'i'm getting stronger each second, sukuna, don't make yourself as a god'

you are the one he lets talk like that. being tremendously gentle with you is hard for him - he still being rough and could inflict damage, although, after pain, the king will take affection aftercare. but don't think he would murmur some sweat stuff in your ears, just spooning you is enough.

ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ

master of the aftercare. sensei of the smooch and teacher of how to cuddle a person. he's good at those things. you never complain of how warm and strong satoru's arms wrapping your waist and his lips are kissing the back of your neck. after rough sex gojo would make an apology with soft kisses all over your figure.

cute fights in the kitchen while cooking. satoru is very needy and sometimes, he could be clingy for your attention, trying to get it whenever he wants to feel your body. even fight doesn't stop him - gojo would fight back and hitting on you.

show everyone that you're taken by him by marks he left on your soft skin last night. satoru would give you an order to dressing a shirt which will show his label on your body - wanna get a punishment? disobey the order; sure, later, you will regret it. however, it will be somewhere in the future, so you do mind disobey him?

whisper on his ear how long you've been craving for his fat dick in your dripping pussy and satoru would stop everything he did later, just to bury his cock deep into you, feeling the outlining of his member in your stomach. it's driving him insane when his fat dick rearranging your insides. no words could describe emotions in his soul when you're scratching his back whilst satoru is doing the pulsative movements inside you. 'does it feel good, kitten, doesn't it? feeling my cock in your little tummy, my god.. put your hand on the lower abs to perceive it' 'satoru~, i-i won't take any longer, give me that~' how could he disobey the order of his little angel?

gojo would degrade you only you've got the bad attitude. at other times - you may hear as he repeats the words 'you're so fucking amazing, kitten' he's hazing at the throbbing feeling in his cock you've been giving him.

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴊɪ

he's so much loves to play games and dancing with you when he has the time to do that - you'll play all games he bought for those evenings when both of you are playing fools and being kids. he may act like a kid around you, but trust me, he isn't good while railing you.

there's no door named exit while he's eating your out. yuji will apologize for not being close when you want to cuddle him or smack your lips against his. his apologies are mostly his head between your legs and his fingers in your cunt, stretching your walls, preparing you for the night. he makes sure you're enough dripping for his throbbing cock. it gives me a vibe that he'll overstimulated your little clit only with his tongue.

having you in missionary position, leaving the half-moon on your hips, unquenchably fucking your overdose cunt filled up with your juices. but you know itadori adores when you're squirting on his dick, shuddering while giving the huge release. 'that's right, beautiful, give your daddy all juices you've got' his words make you squirt one more time when he's finishing on your chest. quick series of spanking on your cunt and you're melting definitively by him.

but most of the time, you're both doing silly stuff that bothering megumi a lot. actually, you've got a game 'who's bothered megumi first'. it's fun to watch how he's activating shikigami dogs. you're idiots, although happy idiots.

ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ

daddy issues. daddy vibes and daddy chill. you've got no choice but to obey every order he told you to do. no way to escape and no way not being fucked to him if you did have time to do his tasks. his big and strong hands pulling your hair back, so you arch your back, feeling his breath in your ear. scream as loud as you can, 'till you reach the high note you could - he won't stop it.

sweat aftercare in the shower where nanami is washing your hair for you, also massaging your shoulders and kissing your stomach sort of excuses for being too extremely rough with you. but you knew he won't be soft, the language of his sex life is rough and painful. but the aftercare is worth having bruises the next morning around your neck.

nanami is an obsessive and dominant lover, he would mark you as his baby girl, his property, and the woman he's seeing his future with. even if you've got powerful and strong abilities nanami still doesn't allow you to battle the curse. think whatever you want to - he doesn't like the thought of having your dead body in his arms. he doesn't like the thought his small girl would have injuries from the demon.

nanami will show his love in action rather than words. you've got an unspoken rule to kiss your partner when they're tired of the work or giving a good morning/goodnight kiss. even if you're sleeping, nanami kisses your forehead before going to work. nothing could stop him from the morning kiss. you baked warm goods before he returns from the office or battle tired and having no strength. he fucking loves your baked bun.

after work, you make a warm bath for him, where he can loosen his body, burying his face in your hair. 'sweetie, i love you so much, so-so-so much. with you i can enervate myself and get lost in your smell, wrapping arms around your waist, feeling like it's my private heaven'

ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ

i've got a feeling he'd be an overprotective boyfriend. doesn't leave you alone with itadori for the reason he's a vessel for sukuna - don't treat him weird, he trusts itadori, but not sukuna. doesn't like when you interrupting his battle using your abilities because it's making him think about implications.

doesn't show his affection among other students because doesn't like being called a clingy or needy puppy. nevertheless, pulling you closer by your waist to show everyone to fuck away from you. megumi would not hesitate to kiss you with a tongue in front of the students to show them you're taken and your man is crazy.

megumi is more like a homeboy. every time you're alone or having time to spend together, you'll be stuck in his arms 'till you both need to go back to the sorcerer-life. cuddling and smooching are his life - in the bathroom, while you're cooking, watching tv-shows, he's arms around your body, therefore megumi is telling sweet nothings in your ear.

sex life with megumi? complicated question. would be bad and good simultaneously. i still have a thought he'd tied you up and use a flogger on your booty for spanking and preparing your pussy for his dick - it was passed on by his genes [wtf his father omg]. makes you squirt a couple of times, also makes you beg for his fat cock before pull it inside unexpectedly. using a collar with a chain to arch your back 'till it crunches and you moaned because megumi literally choking you.

only god knows how much megumi has kinks for you. how much energy he has to rail you all night and be able to continue that after the sun is illumining the room. 'you're dirty little slut, the rays of the sun in our room, and you still have the energy to squirt' degrading you during coitus and praising you in his muscular arms after.

//~~//

fuck. i was planning to post kuroo x reader x kenma but i deleted my work [by fucking accident i hate myself] that i had been writing since morning. sooo, I'll post it tomorrow. so sorry for the grammar mistake i was writing it on my phone.

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch. 8

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

It has come to a point where you can’t even pretend to yourself that you don’t care for her.

All the time you spend with Cassandra every evening has made certain feelings impossible to deny, though you are too scared to name them all.

You don’t name the smile you can’t contain when she excitedly pulls you to the armory to show you her collection of blades –and explains, in a very animated fashion, about the optimal use for each one. You don’t want to know what the stutter in your heartbeat means, every time she genuinely laughs, pale neck thrown back, nose slightly scrunched and all.

And it’s not just Cassandra you grow a tad closer to.

Bela comes to you whenever the two of them have argued and goes ‘Tell my sister’ this or that. Daniela is apparently not allowed within a twenty meter radius of you, but she approaches to poke and prod at you whenever she wants to annoy Cassandra. She never manages to do either, because the middle sister always swoops in, fuming, dragging her away by the hood of her robes like a kitten.

Lady Dimitrescu is the only one as distant as the day you first saw her –and it’s probably for the better. You don’t see her much, anyway, not with how Cassandra takes you to empty castle wings to have you all to herself.

Tonight is different.

After dinner, Bela leaves with her mother and you go to help the other maids present clean the table. But your lover steps in the way and grabs your elbow, instead, hurriedly pulling you along.

“Do not tell me you’re seriously thinking to make me wait longer.” she says.

Of course, you promised to watch a movie you found on your phone with her and she’s been buzzing with impatience since.

That is, until a certain redhead blocks your way.

“Daniela, move.” Cassandra huffs.

“What are you doing? Take me with you.” the younger sister replies, brimming with childlike curiosity.

“No. Go bother Bela.” A shooing motion is made.

“Bela’s no fun. I wanna come with you and Alexia.” she drops your name so casually it’s startling.

“Wait give me a moment to think about it –moment over. No.” Cassandra states, fast.

But Daniela shoots forward and grabs your arm like a koala. Your eyes go wide at the same time as Cassandra’s, for different reasons.

The brunette immediately grips her sister’s robes, none-too-gently. “Don’t touch her, she’s mine!”

“If you don’t take me along I’m telling mother where you found that music player and phone!” Daniela answers, her hold enough to cut off your blood flow.

You send Cassandra a pleading look before they break your arms with how they’re tugging at you.

“On one condition.” the elder sister holds a finger up to her sibling’s face. “You sit next to me and you don’t move around.”

“…she’s warm, though.” Daniela says, all but pouting. “Mother says sharing is caring~”

“Find your own human.” Cassandra growls out as the three of you make your way to the main hall and the couch adjacent to the fireplace there.

“You and Bela have gotten the prettier ones!”

“You snooze, you lose.”

Cassandra quite literally pins you to the arm of the couch with her body, to keep Daniela as far away from you as possible. Even as the movie starts, you can feel her sulking by your neck for not being able to touch you the way she wants.

You are not as focused on the movie as you are cute way she plays with your hand throughout its duration.

It’s getting harder and harder to remind yourself of what they are.

Especially when, ten minutes after the credits have rolled, Daniela is still crying over the death of the protagonist. Even Bela comes to the hall and asks Cassandra what she did to her.

By the time she’s done dealing with her sisters, your lover comes to you sporting a headache.

“We’re leaving this wing right now.” Cassandra says and that is about all the warning you get.

The next second you feel a rush of air and your stomach leaping to where your heart is supposed to be; Your eyes only make out a blur and an augur of black flies.

When she comes to a halt you crash into Cassandra’s side with a gasp. Your arm aches from the pull. The world spins for ten solid seconds.

She laughs by your ear. Low and satisfied as it is at your disorientation –it reminds you of drinking wine by a fire in the heart of winter— you can’t help but bask in the timbre of her voice so close.

“Ugh, why is it so cold in here?” she complains in that same quiet tone you love.

It is very cold compared to the more lived in parts of the castle, but your body is warm enough from your sustained proximity and the rush of adrenaline she always causes in you.

“Oh, well, I can bear it for a little while if it means we won’t be interrupted.” Cassandra trails off and lifts your chin with a chilled finger.

Your lips meet and slide together in a practiced tango. Her manicured nails run over your throat and shoulders, making you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the temperature.

Both of you are starting to get really into it when Cassandra walks you back into the nearest wall. It happens to be a window, covered by a flimsy curtain. You have half a mind to realize it’s probably been forgotten slightly ajar, judging from the frost that graces your shoulder, but you have more important matters to focus on, like the brush of her tongue over your bottom lip.

Until Cassandra braces her bare hand over the unseen opening, to box you in like she usually does.

And-

She shrieks.

She jerks away so powerfully her back crash-lands into the painting on the far wall, knocking it down with its frame broken. You’re left there still and mute, watching in frozen horror as her face distorts into pure, raw anguish.

“Shut it!” Cassandra screams at you. “Shut it now, now!”

Your nerves suddenly kick into overdrive and you pull the window closed like your life depends on it.

What just… happened...?

In slow, cautious steps, you approach her. She’s clutching her hand like a wounded animal, baring its teeth to hide its vulnerability. It is the first time you see her like this. Void of control, bent over in hurt. Gasping.

Something in your chest breaks.

You look at her hand, to find her pale skin nearly crystallized, grey and breaking apart —like cheap china, like weak porcelain— into flies that drop to the floor, faintly twitching.

You thought… you thought they could just control the insects. That dissipating into swarms was just a trick allowed by their mutation. But now you realize, the flies are her body.

All this time trapped under the looming terror of the daughters… and escape was as easy as opening a window on them.

“Cassandra…?” you ask in a wavering voice when the initial burst of rage leaves her form.

She looks up at you, torn, when you hear the heavy sound of heels rapidly approaching.

“Cassandra?!” a different voice calls, this time, deep and authoritative. When Lady Dimitrescu rounds the corner in her immense height, your instincts scream to run.

But one look at Cassandra makes you stay.

Alcina halts for a moment to take in the scene. Then her lips curl downwards and bladed claws extend from her gloves, easily half your body in length.

Oh my… God…

“What did you do to my daughter?!” she demands and advances on you, but Cassandra gets in front of you before she can truly threaten your life.

“I brought her here, mother. It’s my fault.” she hurries to explain.

Alcina stares at you like she wants to crush you underfoot… but then softens, somewhat, at the look her daughter is giving her.

“Come with me. Now.” She says in a stern motherly tone that leaves no room for objections.

You clutch Cassandra’s uninjured hand, silently asking if she’ll be alright. She turns, looks at you for a moment, then nudges your head with hers.

“...I’ll see you later, Alexia.”

But, as it turns out... “later” is subjective.

In Alcina’s Private Chambers…

It is not often that Cassandra is reprimanded by herself.

She has never before been the only one at fault. She’s used to having her sisters beside her while Alcina scolds the three of them… except this time they’re outside the closed door and she is there to face their mother’s ire alone.

She can’t stay still under that yellowish-grey, narrowed gaze. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her robes’ sleeve to keep occupied, while Alcina takes that deep, calming breath she knows heralds no good things. Ever.

“Cassandra. Do you understand the severity of the situation?”

“Yes, mother.” She keeps her gaze downcast.

“Even if the maid didn’t harm you on purpose, she now knows your weakness. Yours and your sisters’. You were careless to allow this.” Cassandra feels anxiety rise up from the pit of her stomach and threaten to swallow her whole at that tone.

“I know, mother. Forgive me.” she replies quietly.

She wants to say that Alexia won’t use this knowledge against any of them, but she cannot bring herself to lie to Alcina. Because the truth is, Cassandra doesn’t know for a fact that she will not.

Why was that window open? Why?!

“You didn’t let me fix your mistake. I assume that means you will do it yourself?” her mother asks and Cassandra’s gaze snaps up.

What…?

At first, the temptation to chain Alexia up and watch as her blood drained from her lithe body had been sweet and strong. But now, at the thought of killing her –losing her— in whichever way, Cassandra is sick to her stomach. It is strange, because she feels like she is hyperventilating when she isn’t breathing at all and the world has tilted and—

Please don’t.

“Since when did you ever hesitate to kill, Cassandra?”

“…If.. that is what you ask of me…” she replies but she doesn’t sound like herself at all, not even to her own ears.

“How can I ask that of you and break your heart?” Alcina throws her arms up in exasperation. “I should have stopped this months ago but I thought it a fleeting fancy. I never imagined you would end up so attached.”

“I’m- I’m not-” she tries to protest, but her mother is having none of it.

“You’re not? You’re with her every day and she barely sports scratches anymore. Your eyes follow her everywhere when she’s in the same room. You instinctively lean closer whenever she comes over to refill your wine. Do you think I do not notice?” Of course. Of course she noticed.

Cassandra swallows, silent.

The memory of laying, too weak to move a single finger, on her deathbed along with Bela and Daniela pierces through Cassandra’s brain like a bullet. Her hand gives a violent spasm and flies break off to buzz frantically around her as she drops her forehead into her palm.

She’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown and it’s just so difficult without her sisters there. They’ve always been together, since the very beginning.

They were born together, learned to control their powers together, they died together-

Alcina is on one knee in front of her the next millisecond, stroking her hair and gathering her into her arms.

“Shh, calm down, my love.” she coos. “I’m sorry to be so harsh on you. I only want the best for you three.”

Cassandra doesn’t talk because she can’t, because she cannot wrap her head around what that flash inside her brain was.

“Oh, my Cassandra. I will not harm the maid if it will harm you, too.”

She waits for the eventual ‘but’.

“But I cannot let this dalliance continue any longer.”

It’s probably for the best. Her mother knows best. It is true, after all, that she has not been acting like herself, lately. So, yes, this decision is for her own good.

But.

Cassandra’s heart has the same reaction upon hearing it as being exposed to sub-zero winter air.

#Cassandra Dimitrescu #Cassandra Dimitrescu x oc #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #where the baby of the family is baby #and Alcina is a mother hen to her three chicks #and she KNOWS #mothers know everything #fanfiction

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

MC is Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Underground Tomb edition!)

Hello friends and degenerate sinners, this is basically a mini headcanon set for Luci’s kid!MC about how the incident with Luke and the Grimoire would go down in this AU to tide you all over until Part 3 comes out! Enjoy!

It was a normal night in the good ol’ HOL... Lucifer was doing paperwork at an ungodly hour of the night, Beel was in the kitchen, and Mammon was screaming and running for dear life. Ah... sweet normalcy.

The custard incident remained the same, MC got force-fed custard and Beel threw a truly fantastic hunger tantrum that culminated in the wall connecting to MC’s room collapsing.

Cue lecture from Luci-father.

“I am very disappointed in you three.” Lucifer rubbed his temples as MC, Beel, and Mammon awkwardly stood in his room. Mammon of course, was trying to avoid the death glares MC was giving him. Poor bastard.

“Especially you two, MC and Beel.”

“Whuh?!” Mammon sputtered. “What about me?!”

“I expect this from you. These two on the other hand,” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at MC who was awkwardly trying to suppress a laugh at Mammon’s aghast expression. “Should know not to act like this.”

“We’re *snrk* sorry, father,” MC paused to try and muscle through a giggle. “It won’t happen again.”

“He ate my custard...” Beel pouted.

“So, MC won’t be able to use their room anymore due to the wall... collapsing.” Lucifer gave Beel a pointed glare.

Mammon smirked, and if he were sitting on a couch, we would have leaned back and kicked his feet up. “Well, obviously since I’m a kind and generous soul I’ll open up my room for poor MC to stay in. My babysittin’ rates are quite high though-”

“BABYSITTING?!” MC snarled, giving Mammon a death glare that could probably kill lesser demons.

Lucifer felt a twinge of pride upon seeing his child give someone his signature bone-chilling glare, if he weren’t supposed to be disappointed he would have given MC a pat on the head and let them hang Mammon from the ceiling.

“Uh- heh- MC, I’m your favourite uncle! Me babysittin’ ya should be an honour!” Mammon was sweating bullets and desperately looking to Beel for help.

“Levi is rapidly approaching favourite uncle status.” MC crossed their arms and huffed.

“Levi?! Wait- does that mean I was your favourite-”

Lucifer was almost tempted to stick MC in Mammon’s room just to have MC punish Mammon so he could get some sleep, tragically, his common sense won out. “MC will be staying with Beel. He has an extra bed in his room after all.”

MC looked over at Beel and smiled. “Could be worse, right? I’ll replace the custard.”

Beel’s smile upon hearing the last part could have lit up the entire Devildom. What a sweetie.

MC still chilled in Beel’s room. They finally got to ask more questions about Belphie, and Beel is more inclined to share what’s up because MC is his big bro’s kid after all!

Because of MC’s half demon-ness, they hadn’t met Belphie at that point in the story unlike in canon. They were just curious about their missing uncle. They ALSO already knew what Belphie looks like because Lucifer gave them an in depth tour of everything and he pointed out all the portraits.

MC, being the sadistic sweetheart they are, went out and bought themselves and Beel replacement custard. MC made sure to eat it right in front of Mammon.

But my oh my, who was texting them? *gasp!* Luke!

MC obviously let their little angel buddy into the house (Luke did not know about MC’s parental situation at that point, keep that in mind). Luke was fun to tease a little after all! And it was nice to have another kid around, but MC would never admit it.

Since MC had literally no reason to be afraid of their dear old dad, they went right up to him and asked him if Luke could stay over. No fear.

“Father?” MC leaned on the doorway to the backyard, Lucifer was playing fetch with Cerberus. MC had never seen someone play fetch so robotically.

“Yes, MC?” Cerberus’ middle head dropped a slobber covered squeaky toy into Lucifer’s gloved hand, the other two heads snapped at the middle one.

“Can I have a friend over?” MC asked, trotting over to give Cerberus some pets. On the first day the dog had tried to eat them, but after giving him some much tastier bacon treats, Cerberus was sweet as pie. Murderous and dangerous pie, that is.

“Do I know this friend?”

“Yes, it’s Luke. Can he stay over?”

Lucifer wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes. “Cerberus is right here, you have access to a dog. Why on earth would you bring the chihuahua over?”

MC snorted and gave Cerberus’ right head some scratches behind the ears. “He’s not a chihuahua all the time, come on, it’s for the good of the exchange program!”

The two had a stare down for a little while, and to his absolute horror, Lucifer felt his resolve cracking. This child of his was too adorable for their own good. “Fine, MC.”

“Yes!” MC fist pumped as Cerberus’ middle and left heads tried to join in on the ear scritches.

“But note,” Lucifer continued. “I expect a full report to give to Lord Diavolo on this whole experience.”

MC frowned and debated sticking their tongue out at their father, they decided against it. “A paper? On a sleepover? Really?”

“Yes. Really.” Lucifer gave MC a flick on the nose. “Like you said, it has to do with the exchange program. Now go make sure the chihuahua doesn’t die and leave you with a mess to clean up.”

The look of complete terror Luke gave MC when they told him that Lucifer said he could stay over was completely worth the paper they were going to have to write.

“What?! You weren’t supposed to tell him I’m here!”

“He said you could stay.”

“Why?! Oh no... did he demand your soul as payment or something?! MC! You shouldn’t have put yourself in that nasty demon’s debt! Don’t worry, I’ll get your soul back somehow.”

MC should have been offended... but they weren’t. I mean, could you stay mad at Luke when he just offered to fight arguably the second most powerful demon in the Devildom to get your soul back?

Now that Luke’s presence in the house was known to everyone, the challenge was no longer keeping Luke hidden, it was making sure Luke didn’t say anything that would get him killed and making sure none of the demon bros made Luke cry.

Mammon was the main culprit of the teasing because Lucifer actually had better things to do. And he had a (totally not a) date with Diavolo so he’d be back late and wouldn’t be home to tease the chihuahua.

Mammon’s status as favourite uncle was hanging by a thread by the end of the first day.

Asmo thought Luke was positively adorable and also very annoying. He offered to paint MC and Luke’s nails. Luke declined, but MC was all for it. (Their cuticles were a MESS by the way, they needed the manicure.)

Luke’s nails were painted gold to match the gold on his outfit! Asmo was quite proud of his work, and was very offended when he was not allowed to try and braid Luke’s hair.

“It looks so soft!”

“You’re not allowed to touch my hair, demon!”

Satan still disliked MC on the basis that they were just a mini-Lucifer and hung out in his room or the library to avoid them and Luke.

It was incredibly annoying when Luke and MC burst into the library to look for cookbooks and treat recipes after Luke told MC about his baking endeavours. Satan debated ordering a pair of ear plugs on Akuzon...

Or perhaps a laser gun...

Both would make him stop hearing the children’s grating voices.

“You two, be quiet.”

“We haven’t spoken since we got in here...”

“You’re breathing too loud.”

Beel remained the only brother who was actually decent to Luke, they all played Go Fish in Beel’s room.

Levi was in his room playing his new video game just like in canon, but he could hear Luke and MC running around outside his room.

He was fully prepared to do that introvert thing where you stay in your room until you hear someone say goodbye to the guest.

Levi’s eyes were glued to his computer screen, just eight more skeleton monsters to kill and he’d get the achievement! His attention crumbled the moment he heard the dreaded sound of...

Guests...

“Hey MC! Whose room is this?”

The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall caused Levi to jump in his seat. Oh no... his worst fears were realized! There was another person in the house!

“That’s Asmodeus’ room. Luke you shouldn’t go around opening everyone’s doors-”

The sound of another door opening and shutting made Levi pause his game and look at Henry 2.0 for help. Maybe if he jumped into the tank and wrapped himself in his tail he’d camouflage into his surroundings...

BAM!

AAAAA! Not enough time! The guest was drawing nearer... he was going to have to... *barf*... SOCIALIZE!

“How about this room?”

Levi braced himself for the incoming social contact... Fs in the chat everyone...

“We shouldn’t bother Levi, let’s do something else.”

HAJEKDJSJSJSJD- BEEL! BEEL JUST SAVED LEVI’S LIFE!

The poor third born slumped back in his seat, the awfulness of socialization avoided. He uh... hadn’t actually left his room in maybe three days... maybe he should actually go outside... enjoy the nonexistent sunlight, y’know?

...nah. Levi went back to his game.

Since the kitchen was broken, Beel, MC, and Luke went out and get AkuDonald’s. They were all out of the toy that Luke and MC wanted so that trip was a disaster! A disaster I say!

Just the image of Beel happily chomping on his eighth burger while Luke and MC angrily pick at their fries makes me want to laugh.

Now the question you’re all waiting for, did Lucifer try and kill Luke and Beel and then MC for trying to take the Grimoire?

N O

“Whose room is behind that door?” Luke pointed to the door to the attic staircase.

MC shrugged and hit their knuckles against the door a few times. “It’s just the door to the attic. My uh- Lucifer said not to go up there because it’s just full of old junk.”

Normally MC would scoff at the idea of being told what not to do and do it out of spite, but MC was a child, and like most children, they hated scary attics. They hadn’t even attempted to open the door in the month they had lived in the house.

“Hm, maybe he’s hiding something...” Luke puffed out his cheeks and knocked on the door. When met with no answer, Luke turned the doorknob. The door creaked open, and the two peeked inside.

A tall spiral staircase greeted them as they tentatively stepped inside. Not so-good Lord, the room was freezing, but it didn’t seem to bother Luke as he walked further into the room.

“What do you think’s up there?” Luke asked, craning his neck to try and get a look at what could be at the top of the stairs.

MC shuddered and crossed their arms. “Like Lucifer said, junk. Nothing important.”

There was a tingling feeling at the base of MC’s neck, their hand flew to the spot only to find nothing, but the uneasiness didn’t cease. Something was very... very off. A shudder creeped up their spine as Luke stepped closer to the staircase.

“Come on,” Luke tutted, placing a hand on the railing. “Demons are known liars!”

Luke was quite difficult to be friends with sometimes, MC had to admit.

With every step Luke took up the stairs, the sense of dread brewing in MC’s gut grew, but they remained rooted to the spot, it was almost like something was physically stopping them from getting closer to those stairs.

Luke stopped on the sixth step and craned his neck to look up again. “Hello?” He called out.

His little voice echoed up the staircase, he was met with no reply for a moment, until a massive shudder wracked both his and MC’s spines.

“Hello.” A voice replied.

Quick as lightning MC dove forward, taking three steps up the stairs despite what felt like electric shocks stabbing into their skin, and yanked Luke back down the stairs and out the door, closing it behind them. MC heard a lazy, carefree chuckle reverberate through their head, and a message that only MC could hear.

“Leaving so soon, Lucifer?”

...

Spooky right?

Anyway- back to Luke and MC being idiots together.

They headed back to Beel’s room to watch some Devildom kid shows, I assume Tom and Jerry just played on repeat.

Luke explained the reason he ran away from Purgatory Hall, and MC legitimately debated whether or not they should throw Luke out of the nearest window for all the jabs he was taking at demons.

“Simeon was going to go out for tea with Diavolo! He even said that I could ask Barbatos to instruct me on the finer points of baking!”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“They’re demons, MC! Simeon and I are angels from the Celestial Realm! We shouldn’t be consorting with demons.”

Once again, bless Beel and his lack of murderous rage when it came to anything other than food.

“MC, Lucifer would be upset if you broke a window.”

“What’s he talking about?”

“Nothing Luke, nothing you need to worry about.”

Don’t worry, no angels were harmed during the visit.

On day two of the extended sleepover, Luke and MC decided to go running around the house again.

“And this is the basement.” MC put their hands on their hips and kissed their teeth as they looked around the Underground tomb. “Perfectly creepy.”

Luke shuddered. “Is this house nothing but one creepy room after another..?”

MC smiled and stuck out their tongue. Their fear of the attic did not extend to the underground tomb. Not that they were actually afraid of the attic or anything...

“Why? You scared some big monster is gonna getcha?” MC teased.

“No!” Luke gasped. “I’m not scared!”

MC began to walk backwards into the darker depths of the tomb, their teasing tone echoing off of the walls. “Then come on! Don’t be chicken!”

Luke looked back and forth from the door out of there, to the rapidly disappearing figure of MC, he rushed after MC.

“I’m not scared of some dark basement.” Luke huffed.

“Why not~?” MC snickered. “There could be ghosts down here... tortured souls of those who were damned to Hell for all eternity~!”

MC swiped Luke’s hat and placed it on their head, Luke jumped at the sudden contact and began to try and get the hat back from MC.

“Stop trying to scare me!” Luke yapped, MC laughed and began to jog deeper into the tomb.

“Maybe there’s a monster that eats chihuahuas down here too! Who knows!” MC twirled the hat with their fingers and ran a little faster when Luke ran after them.

“I AM NOT A CHIHUAHUA!”

Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best course of action to tease and scare one’s friend instead of telling them what they said earlier was mean, but MC wasn’t the best at decision making.

When MC reached a dead end, they stopped and looked around, Luke crashed right into them. He managed to swipe his hat back from a now disinterested MC.

MC’s gaze landed on a book being held up by a statue, they padded over and looked up at it.

“Luke, do you know what that is?” MC asked, turning to look at their now very miffed friend.

“The... book? I don’t know.”

Truthfully, MC didn’t know either. During their first tour of the house, Mammon had interrupted the Underground tomb segment and Lucifer had to cut the tour short.

“It’s uh...” MC pursed their lips and tried to think of a convincing lie. “A spell book. Lucifer told me that it makes your magic really really strong, so he stuck it down here to hide it from Solomon.”

“Did I now?”

MC and Luke screamed and whirled around, there stood Lucifer himself, not looking terribly pleased with the two of them.

“MC, care to explain why you and the angel are so close to the Grimoire?” Lucifer’s words were icily calm, and MC knew that meant if they didn’t come up with a good explanation they’d be in big trouble.

“W-we were just playing down here...” MC trailed off, looking to Luke for some kind of backup before realizing what a stupid idea that was.

“Y-yeah! We were just-”

Lucifer stuck his thumb over his shoulder and glowered at the two. “Out.”

“Yes sir.” Luke and MC mumbled as they stepped away from the Grimoire, Lucifer relaxed slightly as the two walked past him and down the hall.

When the two got back up to Beel’s room, Luke suddenly gasped and turned to MC.

“You said it was a spell book!”

After that, MC got the feeling that Luke was no longer welcome in the house. What was the big deal about almost touching the Grimoire anyway? It could only override pacts and control demons-

Oh.

Balls.

Simeon got called to pick up Luke and before the two of them left MC assured Luke that he could come over and hang out anytime as long as he texted first.

Beel said Luke could come over and bake when the kitchen was fixed, poor Beel would have to do without Luke’s baked goods for a little while longer.

MC rested their chin on the coffee table they were kneeling in front of, stewing in annoyance. Their unfinished homework was practically mocking them, but the Demonology textbook was not what had them in their funk.

“MC, do your homework.” Lucifer said from the living room couch, he was comparing his phone to notes in a binder that was placed on his lap.

A grunt from MC caused him to raise an eyebrow. Their grasp on demonic language had improved, but Lucifer did not approve of them using their new skill to sass him.

“MC.” Lucifer chided, MC turned to look at him with a deadpan expression. “If there’s something wrong, either tell me, or do your work without complaining.”

MC turned back to their homework and tapped their pencil against the textbook, before puffing out their cheek and turning back to Lucifer.

“What’s in the attic?”

For the briefest of moments, Lucifer froze, he forcibly relaxed and went back to his work.

“Junk.” Lucifer replied. “Did you try and go up there?”

MC shook their head. “No, I went into the staircase room, but not up the stairs.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed, he then took a deep breath and looked at MC. “Good, there’s nothing of interest up there anyway. If you did go up there you might break something or hurt yourself.”

“Okay.” MC sighed, trying to push the voice from the attic out of their mind. “What about the Grimoire? Why is it down in the tomb?”

Lucifer could feel his patience growing thinner and thinner with every question. “So it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“Why not just destroy it?” MC asked, their question wasn’t meant to be taken as an insult or be malicious, it was just legitimate curiosity. “Wouldn’t that be safer?”

The first born hesitated before he answered. He looked over MC, before shaking his head. “...I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

MC’s eyes narrowed, but they went back to their work all the same. It would be about ten minutes of quiet before MC spoke up again.

“When Belphegor gets back from the human world, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do, huh?”

Lucifer’s eyes snapped up to look at MC, who still had their back turned to him as they scribbled notes from the textbook. His grip on his DDD tightened as he replied.

“Why do you say that, MC?”

MC didn’t seem to register their father’s clipped tone, and shrugged. “Beel said that he isn’t answering his texts or calls, and when he sent up a letter Belphegor didn’t respond to that either.”

“The life of an exchange student is a busy one, as you can see.” Lucifer forcibly injected his last bit of remaining calmness into his words as he gestured at MC’s homework. MC laughed at that.

“Yeah well, I still make time to call my friends and ren back up in the human world.” MC giggled. “And I’m sure those text notifications about his older brother discovering that he has a child would make him pick up the phone.”

“Belphegor might have a much larger workload.” Lucifer retorted, trying to keep himself from snapping at MC.

“But still, you’d think he’d call his-”

“MC-” Lucifer snarled, MC whirled around, the fear and shock in their eyes caused anything Lucifer was going to say to die in his throat.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, before Lucifer took another deep breath and turned back to his work.

“Not right now, MC,” Lucifer whispered. “I’m working.”

...

To be continued...

#Obey me #Obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me MC #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Satan #Lucifer’s Kid #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Luke #when I say to be continued- I mean more diverging from canon #I have a feeling the lovely London family trip went smoothly... totally

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bffsoobin · 3 years

Text

amortentia

↳year six potions class was never particularly exciting to you- as a Slytherin with much more interest in Transfiguration- but alas, it’s required to graduate. You thought the class couldn’t be any more of an inconvenience, but upon being paired with infamous Gryffindor Beomgyu, you find yourself proven wrong.

➤ gryffindor!beomgyu xslytherin!reader, harry potter!au, enemies to lovers, a little slow burn, fluff

Word Count: ~11k

Requested?: kinda? anon requested a Beomgyu oneshot with no specifics and I spit this out of some depraved, Harry Potter obsessed corner of my mind.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, usual e2l arguments, swearing, usual Gryffindor-Slytherin insults and tension

A/N: I hope the anon who asked for a Beomgyu oneshot is happy with this!! I finally felt like I had enough time to write a proper hogwarts au so here it is! Also I purposely avoided using any professor names that are clearly linked with the actual Harry Potter series purely because of timeline continuity! Bonus points if you can guess who Georgiana is related to before I point it out :) ALSO this is so long and I feel so rusty so I hope it’s okay lmao

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

The sound of your quill scratching against parchment filled your quiet corner of the common room, allowing you a feeling of solidarity and peace you’d been craving since you arrived back to the castle a few days ago. Of course you’d been excited to be back, sharing the meal in the Great Hall with all of your friends happily as you watched the wide-eyed first years get sorted into their houses. It was hard to believe that 6 years ago that had been you waiting to find your place within the walls of Hogwarts.

As always, the buzz of the beginning of a new year wore on your nerves. Despite your love for your friends, their energy was- in your opinion- completely draining. You much preferred the moments of quiet serenity that the stone laden dungeon common room afforded you. The last few embers of a fire lit hours before winked at you from across the room, tempting you to raise your wand and reignite them. After a moment you decided against the movement, as you were presumably the only one awake at this hour and the light of the cedar scented candle you’d brought down with you from your suitcase provided enough light for you anyway.

The scratch of your quill stilled as you flipped to the next page, careful not to accidentally bend the corners of the book you’d just purchased. Several detailed diagrams detailed the process of transfiguring plants to inanimate objects to animals then back to plants and you felt your heart swell with excitement. Transfiguration was hands down your favorite subject, and you’d been craving to learn this process in particular since it had been mentioned offhandedly in class last year. You scrambled to pick up your quill, happy that you’d splurged for the instantly refilling model as ink flowed flawlessly against the parchment.

A sudden crash from the entrance of the common room popped your comfortable bubble of silence harshly as you clambered for your wand.

“Who’s there?” You yelled, annoyance and surprise mixing to raise your voice considerably. For a moment you heard nothing as you advanced closer to the door, keeping the three wide stone steps between you and who- or what- ever was behind the door. The door shook a few times before finally flying open, revealing three very normal looking boys stumbling through the threshold. They were all hanging on one another, stumbling over their feet as they pushed into the common room. You recognized the one in the middle instantly as Choi Yeonjun, fellow Slytherin and current Head Boy of the house. He was a year older than you but you knew him well for his infectious laughter and notoriously good grades despite never studying. His cheeks were flushed and his feet unsteady, but he held a charming grin through it all. The identity of whoever was supporting him on the left was a mystery to you, but the boy supporting him from the right sent alarm bells off in your head.

“Beomgyu?” Your voice left you before you could rein yourself in, and you would have cringed had it not been for the hatred brewing under your skin. Here he was, the one person you tried to forget existed every single summer. And he had been part of the ruckus that pulled you from your reading. He didn’t say anything as the three boys stumbled past you, dumping Yeonjun onto one of the soft black leather sofas.

“Hello?” You felt like you were in some kind of time warp, somehow totally invisible to the three of them as they sorted themselves out; Beomgyu and the other boy straightening out their clothing and Yeonjun lolling his head back on the cushions with a content sigh.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Beomgyu finally drawled, sticking his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. He was still wearing his robes, layered over a sensible gray wool sweater and black uniform slacks. His striped red and gold tie hung off of his neck slightly, obviously having been loosened at some point in the night. He donned the same Head Boy pin Yeonjun did, but in the same colorway as his robes and tie. Loud, obnoxious, attention seeking red and gold.

“Hey? How about instead of “hey” you tell me why the hell you’re barging into my common room at some ungodly hour of the night! Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Head Boy?” The unidentified boy behind him froze as his eyes widened, apparently feeling the sting of your icy words much more than Beomgyu. He just lifted a lazy eyebrow, guiding his annoyingly confident gaze over your body. Fucking Gryffindors and their confidence. It was suffocating.

“Well you see, Y/N. Yeonjun here can’t handle his fire whiskey for shit, and we were all just having a little start of the year party in the Room of Requirement. So me and my friend here,” he motioned vaguely to the cowering boy behind him- who you now noticed looked like he had just entered his fourth year- “decided to be so kind as to bring him back.”

You said nothing for a moment; simply simmering in your hatred for him until he spoke again.

“By the way, what are you even doing up so late? You’re not a prefect...so shouldn’t you be up in bed like the rest of your little friends? What’s so secretive that you have to be up in the middle of the night for it? Are you doing something...evil?” He leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you and bringing his mouth level with your ear. You cringed at the closeness, clenching your hands into fists until the crescents of your nails indented your skin. His voice had lowered like he was telling a secret, as if Gryffindors even had the capacity for maintaining privacy. “Are you being naughty?”

You huffed indignantly, finally finding the strength to shove his shoulder away harshly. The skin of your cheeks was certainly flamed, but you hoped he would chalk it up to annoyance and not the intoxicating scent of his woody cologne.

“If you must know, I was up studying Transfiguration. I was trying to enjoy some piece and quiet until you came busting in.”

Beomgyu stepped around you and made his way for the table you’d previously been sitting at. To your delight he refrained from touching anything, but he stared at the set up for so excruciatingly long that the mystery boy awkwardly slipped out of the dungeon without a word.

“We start classes in about 5 hours,” he suddenly remarked. His voice made you jump a bit, since you’d become used to the regained quiet. “Why the hell are you already studying? And a subject we’ve all already taken? Any other Transfiguration courses would just be electives, and with how much you care for your class standing I would have assumed you’d be learning ahead on Potions.”

“Well first of all, I’m not exactly studying. I’m just reading. I bought the book myself because I-” you stopped and heaved a sigh at the scrunch of his eyebrows. He clearly wasn’t understanding the concept of reading just for the fun of it. “I’m not studying for Potions because I despite it. Plus, how much is there to study? The book literally spells out every ingredient and procedure. There’s no thinking to be done, and hardly any magic.” Beomgyu’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline comically.

“Hardly any magic? My god, maybe I was right to peg you as the pessimistic type. Must be hard to feel anything akin to hope down here in your-” he glanced around your common room again, eyes catching on the darkened green and black decorations, the window offering a view of the sparkling Black Lake shrouded with pine trees. “In your dungeon.”

His use of the word bothered you greatly. Even though you knew it was geographically true and had even used it yourself; something about him coming in unannounced and uninvited to insult your home inspired fresh anger in your stomach.

“Get out,” you spat, ignoring the way a half-dozed Yeonjun jumped at your voice. With all your might you pushed at Beomgyu’s broad shoulders, willing him out of your sight for at least a few more hours.

“Oof, must have hit a nerve there, huh?” He continued to speak casually as you pushed him, walking backwards up the steps with an annoyingly perfect accuracy. Once he was finally stood in the threshold of the heavy door you heaved a sigh of relief as you swing it closed.

“Bye bye! Don’t ever fucking come back!”

——

You only managed about two hours of sleep after the Beomgyu drama, but luckily for you the three other sixth year girls you were rooming with had been smart enough to buy and stash away some caffeine potions. They had none of the enjoyable taste of coffee but three times the effect, and soon you felt back in top shape to head to class.

Pushing through the masses of clambering students with a practice eased, you caught up to the familiar frame of Georgiana, one of your oldest friends. She was a Ravenclaw, but you’d ridden together on your very first trip on the Hogwarts Express and stayed close friends since then. She greeted you easily, giving you an award winning smile as she pulled you by the arm of the robes to sit on one of the surprisingly empty stone benches lining the halls.

“Let me see your schedule!” She had to yell just to be heard over the mumbling of the crowd, but you heard her well enough to produce a folded piece of parchment that you carried despite having memorized it. Georgiana’s eyes flitted over it carefully, comparing it to her own schedule which laid open on her lap.

“We’ve got...Herbology 3,” she ran her finger down the parchments a few more inches, “Transfiguration of Aquatics...and NEWT prep together!” You groaned loudly, a feeling of anxiety weighing down your bones as you rubbed your fingertips into your temples.

“What’s up with you? Over me already?” She giggled, leaning back against the wall and handing you back your schedule.

“No, it’s just...if you’re the second class for Herb 3, Aquatics and NEWT prep, that means I have to pray that the second house in Potions isn’t Gryffindor.” You leaned back against the cool wall next to her, pouting in self pity until you saw the grim look on her face.

“What?” You sat up straight again as if a fire had been lit under your ass. Georgiana looked as if she was holding in a laugh and a grimace at the same time while you begged her to give up whatever information she was holding back from you. Her hand hovered over her mouth in an attempt to hide the wavering smirk running across her lips.

“Okay, don’t freak out.” She began, placing a hand on your knee.

“Well now I’m definitely going to since you lead with don’t freak out! Should I freak out? What about?”

“I already compared schedules with Soobin,” she said gently.

“Okay, and?” You knew of the sweet Hufflepuff, had sat next to him in a few classes and seen him hanging out with Yeonjun on occasion, but still had no idea why she was bringing him up now.

“And him and I have Potions together.” In the split second it took for the words to process you saw her flinch, clutching at the fabric of her robes over her chest in anticipation for your angry outburst.

“Of course! Of course I have to get stuck with them for Potions class, out of all the other houses. Merlin really has it out for lately you know, I didn’t sleep very much last night, had to pay Melinda 10 galleons for one of her caffeine potions-“

“I can tell,” Georgiana supplied. You grimaced at her and immediately shut your mouth, sensing your rapid talking was quickly becoming over the top.

“Georgie, if I have Potions with him-“ you didn’t even have to specify who you were speaking of before she was rolling her green eyes into her head.

“If you have Potions with Beomgyu, you just need to ignore him. He loves to push your buttons, Y/N. When will you realize that? And you push his back and you both get a good cat-and-mouse feeling that every teenager wants. Maybe if you stop entertaining it, he’ll take it easy on you. Need I remind you of the time you were actually friends with him? Didn’t swear he was the spawn of Satan after every conversation? I even remember in second year when you had a crush on him and made me-“

“Okay!” You replied curtly, gathering your books and parchment back into your arms. “I’m going now! Class starts in,” you pulled back your robe sleeve to look at a watch that clearly was not there, “10 minutes, and I like to be early!” Easily, you slipped into the throngs of students, leaving Georgiana behind with a sly grin on her face.

——

You arrived to the Potions room before any other student, forcing you to idle awkwardly in the small space between the door and the first brewing station. A few of the cauldrons bubbled idly, breaking up the silence of the room with the low hum of white noise. The arched ceilings only amplified the absence of noise- even the never ending buzz of students passing through the hallways was somehow muffled to silence inside the walls.

“Ah!” The professor bellowed, waving at you from the opposite end of the room where he had been straightening out some piles of parchment that you could only assume were homework papers. “Hello there, you must be quite eager to start the day!” You could feel the skin of the back of your neck heating up as the rotund man approached you gleefully.

“Oh, um, yes sir. You could say that...” you mumbled, clutching your stack of books to your chest protectively. The man smiled at you kindly but you could still feel the heavy weight of awkwardness seeping into your bones. He opened his mouth again- making another attempt at small talk to which you cringed. As much as you respected the professor on the basis of his knowledge, your ability for any small talk, especially Potions related, was extremely lacking.

“You must’ve done quite well on your OWLS to be here, yes? Only those with the highest scores can be registered. The class can be quite challenging, but if you’ve got your affairs in order I reckon you’ll fine.” He paused, likely sensing the blankness behind your stare as you nodded politely. “Ah, all things you already know I’m sure. Are you excited to get started with the class?”

You frowned, holding back your natural instinct for brutal honesty. How on earth could you let this gentle old man down gently?

“Of course she’s excited! Aren’t we all?” Beomgyu was in the room now, apparently, approaching you from behind and slinging an arm around your shoulders. The loose fabric of his sleeve collided with the side of your face, blinding you for a second. You stumbled on your feet from the jostle, trying to shrug away from the warmth and overwhelming scent of his cologne. Beomgyu never was aware of his own strength as he held you steadily against his side as if he was trying to fuse your bodies together.

“Oh my! So nice to see such great friends between different houses! Back in my day, as I’m sure you know, there was so much hatred between Gryffindors and Slytherins...never would have seen a pair of friends like the two of you!” The professor seemed genuinely delighted, oblivious to the way you tried to wiggle out of Beomgyu’s hold. You offered the professor a plastic smile as more students filed in. As soon as the portly man was otherwise occupied, you stomped the heel of your sneaker into Beomgyu’s foot with all the might you could gather.

“Merlin, ouch!” He recoiled immediately, withdrawing his arm from around your frame to clutch at the foot you’d hopefully bruised. “I’ve got Quidditch practice after lunch today! How dare you!”

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t need your feet for Quidditch, Choi. Serves you right for violating my personal space. Next time it’ll be worse than your fucking toes.” You hissed the words lowly, just enough that he would be able to hear them but without alerting your nearby classmates.

“You two, there!” The professor suddenly exclaimed, making you jump out of your stupor to see he was pointed an aged finger at you and Beomgyu. “Since you were first in and seem to get along, I’ll have you be partners on Station 1.” A few confused whispers passed through the classmates behind you and your face fell at the implication. Potions partners with Beomgyu? For the whole year?

He seemed similarly stalled, not moving a single inch away from the front of the room until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.

“Right, sir, of course,” Beomgyu nodded, rushing over to the furthest of the high-top tables; unsuccessfully trying to hide the pain of his newfound limp. With a satisfied feeling in your chest you followed closely behind, finally unloading the weight of the books in your arms onto the table.

——

“How much worse could it get?” You groaned, laying your head in your arms at the dining table.

“Well, you could be sick, or failing a class, or not have any friends, or have lost your books. Hell, let’s not forget what it must have been like to go to school here at the same time as Harry Potter. I mean, no final exams for a few years, but at what cost? Grandpa Ron always tells me about-”

“Oh, good Merlin, Georgie, that’s not what I meant.” You picked your head up from the table and scanned the bustling hall. A large plate of sandwiches laid in front of you but your appetite was diminished in the presence of your stress. “I mean, how fucked is it that I have to spend every first period for the rest of the year brewing Potions alongside Choi? It’s bad enough that I hate Potions already, and now I’ll have to deal with his stupid, righteous, Slytherin-slandering ass!” You slammed your hand into the wooden table, shaking the plates and glasses near you under the force.

“Careful there,” Georgiana scolded around a mouthful of bread. “Just keep your head down, don’t react to him like you always do,” she paused to gulp down a sip of pumpkin juice, “he’ll give up eventually.” You heaved a heavy sigh, propping your chin onto the palm of your hand and scanning the Great Hall. Masses of students bustled around, sharing meals and laughing or gathering over homework problems. You weren’t quite sure who or what you were looking for, but all you found was a rowdy group of forth year boys sitting atop one of the tables, casting small hexes at one another and their lunches. You rolled your eyes at their antics before resigning to picking at the few fries on your plate.

“And if he doesn’t?” You mumbled, casting a pointed glare at a seemingly distracted Georgiana. It took her a second to shift her gaze back to your face, clearing her throat as she narrowed her eyes towards you.

“Sorry?” She asked, pulling a section of crust off of the third sandwich she’d picked up off of the platter.

“If he doesn’t give up? What am I supposed to do then?” The thought of living out the next two school years with Choi Beomgyu as a constant annoyance settled a pit of rage in your stomach. Georgiana was quiet for a moment, flicking a few locks of curled, fiery hair over her shoulder.

“Then you get back at him.” She shrugged. “You know you get a discount at the joke shop. Just go down there and pick up some puking pastilles or something.” She looked up again suddenly, eyes shimmering and focused intently on something behind you. Out of curiosity you turned on the spot, wondering if there was something of interest outside of the window, only to be met with the sight of Soobin standing mere feet away, hand stalled mid-wave. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the Hufflepuff was staring intently at your best friend, and she was happily returning the sentiment with a goofy grin on her face. You whipped back around to face her, leaning across the table as if the action would provide any secrecy with him so close.

“Are you and Soobin...” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and she swatted at your shoulder. Her cheeks blushed rosy as she whispered back, “He asked me if I’d want to hang out when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend.” Her voice shook as she spoke but you frowned instantly. Of course you were happy that he had finally manned up and the two of them were on the way to something akin to a date, but...

“First weekend Hogsmeade is our tradition!” You shouted, abandoning any secrecy you might have thought you’d maintained from Soobin.

“Y/N, please!” Georgiana hissed, glancing up at Soobin with an apologetic smile. “Just once. You can still come along, maybe you can bring someone too?” She offered, trying to placate your irritation. Her eyes continued sliding between you and Soobin as she waited for your response. You sank back onto the bench quietly, arms crossed over your chest.

“Fine.” You sighed. “I guess I can try to think of someone.” Georgiana’s face lit up as she stood from her seat and gathered her books back under her arm. She rounded the end of the table quickly, meeting up with Soobin just behind you. “Don’t think I’m not still irritated, Weasley!” You yelled after her even though she had turned her back to you. She stalled in her lockstep next to Soobin just long enough to turn her head and throw you a middle finger.

——

The day of your Hogsmeade visit came quicker than you anticipated, and of course you’d failed to find someone to fill the empty spot that would prevent you from third wheeling. Everyone you asked had either been otherwise busy, sick, or already going into Hogsmeade with other friends.

Georgiana, being the wonderful friend she was, made sure that you hadn’t felt left out on the walk into the village. Soobin was surprisingly good at keeping conversation despite his shy appearance, and the three of you had managed to share lunch and a few Butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks before Georgiana began giving you pointed glances. It took you an embarrassingly long time to recognize what her hand signals and mouthed words were conveying, but once you did you had excused yourself to wander the shops alone in a bid to give the lovebirds some privacy.

The weather was surprisingly pleasant, and as such the streets were lined with witches and wizards of all ages. Large throngs of students and families passed you by, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like a fish swimming upstream as everyone pushed by. When you’d first stepped out you felt odd walking the cobbled street alone, considering you’d never made a solo trip to Hogsmeade for as long as you’d lived. Something about it was quite relaxing, though, as you realized you could enter any store and stay for any amount of time.

Once you’d wrestled your way through another group of oncoming students, you spotted an endearing baby blue storefront with deserts on display in the window. Many of them appeared to be muggle creations, and your mouth watered as you caught sight of a tray of fudgy brownies with a thick layer of chocolate icing. Your eyes had always been bigger than your stomach; so despite the fact that you’d just had lunch you find yourself stepping into the sweet smelling shop. An expansion charm helped stretch the store far beyond its dainty storefront, and you were met with the sight of even more display cases and tiered plates full of sweets.

A few other wizards mulled around the store, debating which treats to pick up and pack into the little green pastry boxes which were stacked at the entrance in a never ending supply. You balanced one of your own between your hands as you gathered up treats, sure to grab three of the very brownies that had brought you in to begin with. You packed in a few cookies that you found on a shelf near the back of the store and began to weigh your options between purchasing what appeared to be a type of muggle cake with specs of color floating about the white batter or a more familiar looking pumpkin pastry dusted with powdered sugar. You contemplated the two deserts for an amount of time that would have been embarrassing if you were in the presence of company.

“Wrackspurts on the brain?” A rush of hot breath inches away from the shell of your ear had you reeling, clutching your box of precious deserts to your chest. Of course you’d immediately identified the voice; you were just hoping that you were wrong as you shot daggers into the boy who’d spooked you. Beomgyu looked beyond pleased with himself: a hand cocked on his hip, fake glasses perched at the very end of his nose to perfectly top off the outfit he’d chosen. His robes hung open, one shoulder almost devoid of the fabric as it drooped onto his back. The maroon turtleneck he wore struck a perfect contrast with the golden undertones of his skin and matched impressively well to the emblem on his robes. He had tucked the turtleneck into the waistband of a pair of light wash jeans that made it hard not to marvel at the shape of his waist. The scent of his cologne was faint, overpowered by the sweetness of the shop, but you were picking up overwhelming scents of-

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He scrunched his nose as he studied you, waving gingerly like you would have at a child.

“Oh! Uh, I’m here, I’m here. What the hell do you want anyway?” You turned your attention back to the two pastries you’d been considering before his sneak attack in an attempt to keep yourself from looking back at his form.

“What’re you doing here alone? Out of friends? Did ya bore them all to death?” He had rounded to the opposite side of the table, forcing you to look at him straight on.

“I walked into Hogsmeade with Georgiana and Soobin, if you must know. They wanted some time alone so here I am.” You glanced up again to see him leaning casually against the table with one arm bracing his weight.

“I just have to point out that you’re also alone, Beomgyu. So I’m not quite sure why so keen on bashing me.” Your eyes skate over the deserts one final time before you decisively package up a slice of the muggle cake. The urge to celebrate the small victory was squashed by Beomgyu’s scoff.

“I’m here alone because I chose to be, not because my best friend is on a date and didn’t want a chaperone. Don’t you find that a little embarrassing?”

To be honest, you hadn’t considered it that way. You knew that finding a person to keep you from third wheeling had been your responsibility. But maybe he had a point. Although he was a constant nagging force, Beomgyu was insightful and intelligent. He’d helped you in class many times back when you were friends. Nervously, you nibbled at your bottom lip and considered his words carefully. Did Georgiana find your presence today embarrassing? She was surely too nice to tell you so, and there was no denying the tension in her face while she waited for you to leave The Three Broomsticks earlier. Your normally stoic face must have betrayed you, conveying that you were starting to feel hurt at the words that suddenly seemed to make so much sense.

“I was joking,” Beomgyu spoke up suddenly, rounding the table to once again be next to you. “Don’t take everything I say so seriously, Y/N. I’m beginning to worry for your sense of humor.” He picked up a couple of cookies with careful dexterity and settled them into the palm of his hand.

“Of course,” you concluded bitterly, taking a step back in a bid to get to the counter and buy your treats. “Must be my broken sense of humor and not just the fact that you’re an ass.” His face twisted unpleasantly as you stepped further away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but you were already pivoting on the balls of your feet to make your way toward the front of the shop.

——

The evidence of the first frost of the season crunched underneath your feet as you hurried to class. As someone who prided themselves on showing up on time for classes every day, you were particularly embarrassed to have woken up with just twenty minutes to spare before the beginning of potions. There was no excuse, either. You had simply stayed up too late studying for the NEWT practice exam and forgot to set your alarm before lying down.

To make matters worse you’d greatly underdressed yourself, underestimating the absolute chill of the morning when you had peeled out from the window. Only now, as you found yourself feet away from the classroom did you feel the icy temperature begin to bite into your exposed skin. Your cheeks were numb with cold, and your hands shook as you pushed them under your arms for some amount of warmth. Luckily the classroom was warmer when you finally got to it. Guiltily, you grinned at your professor as he notably marked your attendance onto the scroll of parchment.

“Rough night?” Beomgyu asked under his breath as the professor launched into the lesson for the day. You kept your back turned to the boy in favor of writing down the list of ingredients that was being provided to you. A firm poke in the middle of your back had you turning on your stool, already silently fuming as you came face to face with Beomgyu.

“What?” You mouthed, trying your best not to alert your professor that neither of you were paying attention to him.

“You look awful,” he mouthed back, pulling the most exaggerated gagging expression you’d ever seen in your life. Your fingers twitched, resisting the urge to grab him by his necktie and slap him across his annoyingly perfect face. Instead you threw up your middle finger boldly, practicing a muggle tradition that wizards had become quite fond of. Beomgyu feigned shock, laying a hand over his heart and pretending to faint right there at his stool.

“-so you’ll be using this combination of potions for the group project, due in one weeks time.” Your professor concluded. Wide eyed, you spun back around on your stool only to see the words previously written on the board disappear with a flick of his wand. A group project? Potions, plural? You’d only taken notes on one mixture, and you were sure that Beomgyu hadn’t taken any notes at all. Although maybe the group project wasn’t among your table mate? Your heart fluttered as you prayed for that to be the reality, scanning your classmates to see if anyone got up to switch seats or combine tables.

Not a single soul moved.

“Guess it’s just us.” Beomgyu drawled from behind you.

“Did you take any notes?” You asked, fear running through your veins. If both of you were clueless, you’d have to ask the professor to explain everything to you again, which would only implicate the two of you for not paying attention to begin with.

Beomgyu shook his head and shrugged much too casually for a student who was in the dark about an entire project.

“I’ll just ask someone. Hey, Art-”

“No!” You scrambled for a rolled piece of parchment to hit him on the arm with before he could finish his shout across the classroom. “Please, do not scream across the room that we don’t know what we’re doing.” Your cheeks were flaming, anxiety and exhaustion building to a dangerous level in your bloodstream.

“Awe, are you ashamed to admit you were too busy talking to me to pay attention?” Beomgyu cooed, cradling his chin in his palms.

“No. I’m embarrassed that we’re the only ones not starting the work,” you glanced pointedly to all of the other tables where your classmates were hard at work on...something. Every table housed a slowly bubbling cauldron producing a steady stream of light grey smoke. The cauldron resting on the table between the two of you was alarmingly quiet, your stores of provided potion ingredients remaining untouched.

“Alright, Y/N. How about right now we work on the one you wrote down,” he points a finger at the parchment containing the list of notes you managed to take, “and I’ll talk to someone about the rest. Since you’re too proud to ask for help.” Without waiting for you to process the words he gripped the parchment between his fingers and pulled it toward the middle of the table. He mumbled a simple aguamenti under his breath and the cauldron filled with the perfect level of water. He then scrutinized the words for just a moment before he began to collect ingredients with a practiced ease, barely even glancing at the labels of the hefty glass containers. You’d never seen him quite as focused in a class as he was at the moment, his nimble fingers uncapping lids and measuring precise amounts of lacewing flies with a delicacy you never would have expected to come from the hands of Gryffindor’s star Beater.

One after the other, ingredients fell into the wrought iron cauldron, changing the color of the mixture from clear to an odd, murky green. You scrunched your nose in distaste but Beomgyu was nodding to himself in satisfaction, his fluffy hair bouncing back off of his forehead.

“Stop staring and start taking notes, Y/N.” His voice was casual but his lips were twisted in a smirk as you scrambled for both an excuse and a fresh roll of parchment.

“I wasn’t,” you defended as you begin to scribble out notes against the parchment, refusing to meet his eyes as the shame of being caught red-handed crawled up the back of your throat and stung behind your eyes. He simply hummed in acknowledgment and tossed in a few leaves of a plant you didn’t have time to identify into the bubbling mixture.

——

Impatiently, you tapped your foot against the stone floor. It echoed a sound that would have been satisfying in its consistency if it weren’t for the annoyance running through your veins. Beomgyu had promised to meet you in the west corner of the library today, at a prompt 7pm, in order to finish synthesizing your plan for the Potions project. You checked the clock on the wall again just in case you had somehow misread the hands only to find them confirming your suspicions. Beomgyu was blowing you off. He had suggested the time and place himself, and yet he couldn’t even have the decency to show up.

Anger blossomed in your chest as you stood to gather the things you’d brought along. Your chair scraped on the floor and attracted the stares of a few other students put you paid them no mind as you swore under your breath.

Of course Beomgyu had stood you up in the face of an important project. He was probably laughing away to his friends in the common room, boasting about how he’d left you sitting in the library like a fool. Once again he had proven himself to be an utterly useless and annoying human being that you wished you had never even met. Your teeth sunk into the supple flesh of your bottom lip so hard that blood pooled on your tongue, the bitter tang snapping you into action. The route to the Gryffindor common room was a familiar one, and the hatred brimming inside of you made your legs move even faster than usual, swearing under your breath as you finally came face to face with the portrait keeping you from entering the room.

“I don’t have time for any password- please just let me in. I’m looking for someone.” Your words came rushed, obviously annoyed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Now, you know that isn’t how this works, dear,” the painting asserted, crossing their arms to mimic your own stubborn pose. “I can’t let just anyone into the room. I’ve got,” the portraited stopped dead in its tracks and began counting on its fingers silently. “I’ve got 30 students inside right now, and it’s my job to protect them.” Your fists clenched at your sides over the stubborn portrait, fingers itching to grab your wand and level a badgering curse against the damned painting. It must have read the anger on your face as you fiddled with the fabric of your robes, as it’s booming voice came again;

“Tell me who you’re seeking, and I can tell you if I’ve seen them!” With your fingers still curled around your wand, it took a fair deal of restraint to leave it in your robe pocket. After a deep, steadying breath, you looked back up at the portrait. A beat of silence passed before you slathered on a sweet smile, clearing your throat to quell any remnants of your frustrated growl.

“I’m looking for Choi Beomgyu.”

The portrait took a moment to contemplate your words, squeezing its eyes tightly and tapping its fingers as you assumed it searched the students inside the Gryffindor common room and dorms.

“He’s not here.” It finally concluded, snapping its eyes back open to peer down at you again. Frustration flamed your skin red all the way to your hairline. Hogwarts and it’s grounds were extensive, and searching for him would surely take up your entire night.

“I did happen to see out Quidditch players heading down to the pitch around 5 o’clock, though.” Not needing any further ceremony, you turned on your heels and made your way toward the exit of the castle. The corridors were fairly empty, and the few students still milling around were quick to step out of your way as you hurried through them, robes flowing out behind you. Silently you thanked your lucky stars that no professors had been around to inquire about why you were rushing out of the castle in such a haste.

As soon as you set foot outside, you regretted not stopping by your dorm first to grab your coat and scarf. It had been three days since you woke up to the first frost, and the temperature had only continued to drop into frigid numbers. Even in the limited light provided by the setting sun you could see your breath fogging ahead of you. Cold air curled around your body, seeming to seep underneath your skin with a harsh ferocity. For now you simply tucked your hands deeper into the fabric of your robes, hoping that the heat of them in conjunction with your brisk pace would keep your body warm enough.

The walk to the Quidditch pitch was deceptively far when you traveled alone. Normally you were so distracted by conversation with your friends and the last minute bets between houses that you didn’t have time to mull over how many steps it took you to arrive at the stands; but today you were nothing short of pissed at how far away the compound had been built. Every step you took sent a shock of cold through your feet, your toes completely numb no matter how much you wiggled them inside your sneakers. The trees shuddered with you as you passed them, leaves spiraling to the ground as they finally give in to the pressure of the cold and resign themselves.

Finally you passed through the solid wood of the viewing stands, coming face to face with the expanse of the pitch in front of you. Totally empty. Not a single soul was to be found warming up on the grass or running practice games in the air. Upon listening, you couldn’t even hear any distant chatter that would indicate the team being huddled into the locker room.

“Shit!” A new wave of frustration crashed through your mind. Had you passed them on the way over? It was plausible that they had taken a different route back to the castle and your whole trip had been in vain. Exhausted, you leaned against the wall and listened to the whip of the banners against their metal poles, the clinking of their bindings matching with the steady, loud beat of your pulse. Just as you were about to turn and head back for the castle in your freezing shame, you heard another sound. This one was different, less uniform, almost like a grunt of exhaustion followed by a heavy thud. Your freezing feet moved almost without you to follow the noise. A vicious wind whipped your hair, mussing it up so badly that you had to stop in your tracks to gather it all back into place. You hazarded every step you took, unsure exactly where the source of the noise was coming from other than somewhere behind the stands. On your next step you heard the noise again, much closer this time, and the excitement of being close to solving this mystery had your footsteps speeding up.

Just as you rounded the curving stands, you spotted the culprit, still a little hard to make out due to the distance you had yet to cover, but the colors and shape of a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform were clear. Upon further inspection, it became obvious that the heavy thud you’d been hearing was a the heavy iron Bludger cracking against the magically reinforced bat. There were only two Beaters on the team, and one of them was the very man who’d forced you to walk into the frigid night. You continued your steady approach to the figure, morbidly curious over who it was that was out here pushing themselves to practice alone in the freezing cold.

“Hey!” You yelled as you edged closer, hoping to give whoever it may be a fair warning that you were approaching. Within three feet of the body, there was no mistaking it to be Beomgyu.

“Choi!” You raged, yelling much louder than required for him to hear you. The Bludger was sailing far away from the two of you with a strong hit as you closed the distance almost all the way. “I know you can hear me, asshat.” Beomgyu kept his eyes on the iron ball, effectively ignoring your words. In disbelief you glanced back and forth between his face-seeing the way his eyes narrowed in concentration as the Bludger came closer by the second.

“Is this where you’ve been all night? Playing Quidditch while you were supposed to meet me in the library?” A strong gust of wind knocked the air out of you, shivers running down your spine as you waited for any response from the boy. The Bludger came whistling back toward the two of you, and in the split second you had the foresight to step back he had tensed his shoulders, gripped the end of his bat and took another strong and precise hit against the Bludger, sending it even further away than the last one.

“Lost track of time.” He supplied absentmindedly, turning his head to regard you with lazy eyes.

“What?” You seethed, stepping forward again, placing yourself in front of his frame in hopes of appearing somewhat intimidating. “You lost track of time? Let’s talk about the fact that out project is due in four fucking days, and all we have to show is a single god damn Potion. This was your responsibility,” you pushed your pointed finger into the front of his uniform, the fabric giving way to allow you to feel the firmness of his chest underneath. “I trusted you with the single task of making sure that we could figure out the rest of this project, and you fucked up!” Tears of frustration rimmed your eyes as the worry of failure overwhelmed you. As much as you hated Potions, you’d be damned if Choi Beomgyu became the reason you do poorly.

“Listen, I seriously did just forget,” he pushed at your shoulders forcefully, to which you planted your feet into the ground harder. “Seriously, Y/N, I forgot! Now move!”

“No! You are not,” you grabbed at his forearm and pulled it off of your shoulder, “going to blow me off again! We are going to work on this project right now, even if its the last thing I do!”

“It’s about to be if you don’t fucking move!” He yelled, finally managing to uproot your feet and push you off to the side with so much force that you landed flat on your ass, the cold hardness of the ground knocking the breath out of your lungs. From the ground, you watched helplessly while Beomgyu scrambled to grab his bat in time to hit the whirring Bludger. He was a quick enough thinker to see that there was no way he’d make the move in time, so he simply did the next best thing- turning his back to the ball and ducking his head into his chest, covering the back of his neck with his arms.

With a sickening crack, the Bludger made foul contact with Beomgyu’s back, striking just below his left shoulder blade. The force knocked him forward, his hands barely catching himself as he met the ground harshly. He cried out in pain, the sound bouncing around the stands and piercing your veins. In a hurry, you crawled toward his heaving body and urged him to sit up with the guidance of your hands.

“Are you okay?” The words rushed out of you in a hurry, panic crawling up the back of your throat at the shine of tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.

“Wh-what the hell do you think?” He groaned, body shaking as he struggled to even take a breath.

“Okay, right. Dumb question. Let’s get you to the infirmary, yeah?” His legs shook as he got them under him, something akin to a baby deer taking its first few steps. Instinctively you shot out an arm to steady him, looping your arm behind his back as effectively as you could given the height difference and placement of his injury.

“Merlin, I think I broke my shoulder blade,” he groaned, stumbling across the uneven ground with trepidation.

“You didn’t, I watched. It actually hit right below your shoulder blade, so if anything it’s just bruised, and you probably won’t even need a bone-healing spell, so recovery should be little more than some Devil’s Claw for the pain and-”

“Did someone cast a babbling curse on you? Merlin’s beard. It’s bad enough that you got me hit to begin with, and now I have to listen to you run your mouth!’ His voice was still pinched with pain, an octave lower than normal as he gritted his teeth. The two of you finally reached the threshold of the castle, encapsulated by the warmth of the torches littered all inside.

“I’m trying to help! Did you ever consider the fact that if you had showed up to our scheduled meeting time, you could have avoided being hit. I could have avoided freezing all of my extremities off, and I wouldn’t have to be helping your ass to the infirmary.”

The noise of your bickering outside of the infirmary wing attracted the nurse to the hallway, who furrowed her eyebrow in silent question over the two of you.

“He got hit by a Bludger, ma’am,” you supply as soon as you see her. Her eyes widen instantly as she rushed forward, helping you guide Beomgyu into an empty cot. She shooed you aside as she fretted over him, asking questions about the incident in a low, steady tone before nodding seriously. Without any kind of warning, Beomgyu was pulling the fabric of his uniform over his head, leaving his top half bared to you. Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat nervously. The nurse was too busy prodding at the blossoming bruise to have heard your stutter, but Beomgyu was nothing if not aware.

His dark eyes found your form standing just a few paces away, staring unabashedly at the faint hint of his abs that had become visible.

“Somethin’ you like?” He drawled playfully, snapping you out of your reverie.

“Merlin, no.” You sneered, hoping to cover the thickness of your tone as you swallowed hard. “Just trying to decide if I should tell the Quidditch team to get their backup trained for the game tomorrow night.” Beomgyu’s face fell at the implication of your words and a sting of regret struck your heart.

“There will be no need for a backup, dear,” the nurse cooed, shuffling her feet as she gathered up a few healing supplies. She offered a bottle of innocent looking clear liquid to Beomgyu and he drank it instantly, grimacing at what you assumed to be a foul taste. “Now, dear, if you don’t fancy seeing your boyfriend in more pain as I heal him-”

“Please. He is not my boyfriend. I just helped him get here. I’ll be going now, anyway. See you tomorrow?” You asked pointedly, hoping he would understand your incessant need to finish the Potions project. He nodded slightly, and you scanned Beomgyu’s form one more time before excusing yourself to the nurse and scurrying back to your dorm.

——

“I better hear a thank you.” Beomgyu asserted as soon as he slumped in the seat across from you. He had been so quiet in his approach to the table that you hadn’t heard him until now, rocketing your gaze up towards him from the pages of your Transfiguration book.

“Beomgyu,” you breathed, relieved to see that he had been healed and able to return to classes just the morning after the Bludger hit. You schooled your features into cool indifference as soon as you saw his mouth twitch up at the sound of his name. “For what am I thanking you? Withholding information about the project?”

“No,” he shook his head, springing a few carefully parted hairs loose from their spot. “For- number one-” he paused dramatically, drumming his bony fingers against the edge of the high-topped table, “providing you all the information for finishing this project.” Out of seemingly nowhere he produced a thick roll of parchment that unrolled to reveal a step by step explanation. Pages of carefully written instructions went into great detail on every step of the potions that needed to be made. A sense of relief and happiness washed through you, enough to make your hands curl into excited fists as you beamed.

“Turns out our Seeker is good at more than catching a Snitch. She got the highest marks in this class last year, and agreed to share the notes with me.”

“Thank you, Beomgyu. Seriously. I was beginning to worry.”

“I know, I know. It feels good to be your savior, Y/N. Oh, which reminds me of reason number two; the fact that I spared you a Bludger hit last night.”

“I thought we’d already covered this. Most of that encounter was your fault. Plus, your little shove left me with a bruise of my own on my ass.” Pouting, you shifted your weight in an attempt to alleviate the pain against said bruise.

“Just admit it, Y/N,” he leaned forward, his face mere inches from your own so as not to be heard by anyone around. “You’re indebted to me. Two times over.” He was cocky, but you had to admit he had a point. As much grief as he had caused you, he had saved you from both a failing grade and an injury in just under 24 hours.

“You’ve got a point.” Beomgyu shrunk back into his seat, cocking his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. It seemed like he was waiting for a witty remark or some kind of argument to his words, but you kept a sure, steady gaze on him instead. Either your eyes were playing tricks on you or there was a slowly building flush of red blooming from under the collar of his cable-knit sweater onto his cheeks. Against your will, your mind reproduced the image of his bared chest from last night.

“What do I owe you?” The question rolled off of your tongue like butter as you took the chance to lean forward to him, balancing carefully on your stool with your elbows planted onto the table.

“I-I just,” Beomgyu frowned at his stutter, apparently upset by his own lack of confidence. His mouth opened and closed again in quick succession and you grinned wider. Another teasing lilt was right at the tip of your tongue, but the booming voice of your professor cracked the tension wide open and had you sitting back on your stool.

——

Two days later, you stand behind your stool in Potions class, wringing your hands together nervously. Your portly professor had spent all morning swirling around the class, leaning over the cauldrons and vials present at every table. He muttered a few things to every pair of students, nodding along as they explained their approach to him. It seemed as if he were grading on the spot, since you caught a glimpse of a quill gliding over a small strip of parchment.

Finally the elder approached your table, bushy eyebrows pinched into one another as he had already begun to scrutinize the potions laid out for him. He said nothing as he approached, quietly appraising your work. One by one, he picked up the vials one by one, peering through the clear bottom and giving them an experimental swirl. He hummed happily to himself and your heart soared. Across the table you noticed Beomgyu looking equally pleased. The professor set down the vials one by one before leveling his gaze onto you.

“How do you think you did?” He questioned, producing the same thin strip of parchment you’d seen him use at other tables. Palms sweating, you stole a glance at Beomgyu who gave you an encouraging wave of his hand.

“I think we did quite well, professor. It took us a bit to get the whole project together, but I feel confident in our end results here.” Nervously, your eyes skated down to his quill, tapping against the parchment rhythmically.

“Well, I think you did quite well, the two of you. These potions are near perfect. Couldn’t make them any better myself.” It felt as if the air had been sucked from your lungs, shocking you beyond belief. Never once in your life did you think you’d be receiving such high marks in Potions- especially with Beomgyu as your partner. Your professor marked a delicate “A+” on the small strip of parchment.

Beomgyu threw a triumphant fist in the air, wiggling in his spot with pure excitement. Your professor let out a belly laugh, spinning around to address the entire class.

“I didn’t want to advertise this since I wanted you all to put in your best, pure efforts to the project. But, now that I’ve reviewed everyone’s work and determined the best,” you swapped a look of confusion with Beomgyu, both assuming that he was referring to you. “I am offering an award to our friends at Station 1!” He motioned to the two of you wildly, robes flailing as you ushered to the front of the room. Your peers glared at the two of you, but you were too far onto cloud nine to care.

“Good thing I got those notes, huh?” Beomgyu muttered to you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Good thing I spent all last night making sure we actually had the potions to present.” Keeping your voice low and level to keep him from sensing just how grateful you were for his efforts. The class murmured lowly, surely trading snide remarks about the two of you until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.

From the pocket of his robes, the professor pulled out two small, clear vials. One was pressed into each of your palms, and you stared up at him with confusion. Maybe this was a sign you should have paid more attention to the types of potions around you.

“Luck potions, please use them carefully” he supplied helpfully, swirling back around to face the entire class. “Now, who’s willing to take a photo of me and our winners?” The professor bellowed, producing an old film camera from somewhere and brandishing until someone shuffled off of their stool.

——

Fresh, fluffy snow floated down in gentle waves outside the window. It was the thick of winter now, and despite your best efforts to bundle up you were still huddling into yourself for warmth as students shuffled into Potions around you. Everyone seemed especially lethargic, yearning for the break from classes that Christmas promised. You laid your head onto your folded arms, feeling just as exhausted as the atmosphere suggested.

Sleep had been evading you lately, annoyingly deceptive as you would lay down in bed tired only to be kept awake by your racing mind for several hours. Somehow settling into your arms in this classroom was the most content you’d felt in days. And then you felt a firm push at the back of your head. There was no mistaking who the perpetrator was, especially as you heard the scrape of a stool directly across from you.

“Good morning to you too, Beomgyu.” He was perched perfectly on his stool, eyes wide and bright. For as long as you’d known him, he had thrived in the cold and the snow. “You are obnoxiously cheerful. God damn Gryffindors.”

“Not my fault you’re such a grouch. But I guess it is true that snakes don’t like the cold.”

“Do you ever let up? Or do you get pleasure out of ruining my mood every single morning?”

A grin cracked his lips as a short laugh bubbled through. “Thinking about my pleasure, are you? Concerned I’m not getting enough? I can assure you that-”

“Okay, gross. Stop. Enough. You know that isn’t what I meant.” Quite honestly, you had no time to endure his usual teasing so you simply turned your body away from him, idly watching the professor gather his things at the desk.

“Right, let’s get going! We need all the time we can manage today!” He seemed more jubilant than usual as he centered his own cauldron onto the middle of his desk. “Today we’ll be making love potions. Amortentia, you may know. If you’ll open to page 104, you can find the procedure. It is important to note that this potion cannot make anyone truly fall in love, but it does create a strong attraction to whomever you make with it in mind. Of course, the full effect doesn’t apply unless it is consumed. Today we will simply be brewing it for practice. If done correctly, the potion will emulate-”

“The scent of what you find most attractive,” you muttered absent mindedly, reading directly off of the page you had open in your lap.

“Exactly, miss Y/N. Your potion today will smell like what you find most appealing.” He nodded proudly. A feeling of anxiety rose in your chest as he rattled on. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of the type of scents that would come from the potion. You were quite fond of some scents in candle form, but you wouldn’t classify them as...attractive. Even more worrying was the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you would have to reveal this concoction in front of Beomgyu, who took every chance presented to torment you. Your professor clapped his hands together, marking the beginning of your working period.

The instructions were simple enough, so you took extra care to be sure that the measurements were as perfect as you could get them. The room was shrouded in a hushed silence that indicated everyone was working hard on this. After all, this was the most exciting potion that’d been offered to you all year.

“Can’t wait to see which poor dude you have a crush on,” Beomgyu chuckled as he stirred his pot exactly three times counter-clockwise.

“Could say the same for you! I seriously petty whichever girl you’ve been fancying. Imagine being at the receiving end of your...ick. You’d better tell me who it is so I can send them a warning.” You stirred your pot the same way he had, watching the mixture turn to a stereotypical bright pink. The instructions lead you to allow the mixture to culminate for exactly two minutes before any results could be sought.

The students who happened to work faster than you were already taking a sniff at their potions and recording the scents on their parchment, some pairs gossiping amongst one another about what they smelled. A clank of metal had you whipping your head upwards, locking eyes with Beomgyu as adjusted his small cauldron to bend over his potion. Since it wasn’t your own, there was no scent for you to distinguish, but you watched the way his eyes widened in shock for a second.

Unfortunately you had no time to process his expressions before you had to examine the contents of your own cauldron. Before you could even take a deliberate sniff, your senses were rushed with a mix of sweetened musk, a wood that seemed somewhere between cedar and mahogany, and an addicting citrusy undertone that you eventually recognized as bergamot. You placed it immediately.

“Merlin, Beomgyu. Could you refrain from spraying your cologne right now? Why are you even carrying it with you in the middle of-” The words died in your throat as you realized how incriminating your words had become, seeing as Beomgyu had nothing but his quill in his hands. A feeling of sickness rose in the back of your throat as he let out a hearty laugh.

“My cologne, huh? I actually didn’t even have time to put any on today,” he peered over at your parchment, his height allowing him to easily read the fragrance notes you had scribbled before complaining. “But those are the exact notes of what I wear.”

Your cheeks flamed, the heat radiating so fully through your system that you felt yourself begin to sweat despite how cold you’d been before. There was no worse fate than this, you decided. Amortentia had betrayed you, putting you under the mercy of Beomgyu’s knowing stare. Fuck, did he really have to find out now that the smell of his cologne secretly drove you crazy? That as much as you hated the way he teased and antagonized you, somewhere deep down you’d never quite lost the crush you developed in second year?

“I was beginning to think you might’ve had a crush on me, Y/N. Isn’t that so sweet! The stony little Slytherin finally realizing that she’s attracted to me...this is quite the revelation!” Beomgyu lamented, obviously overjoyed at the new ammo he could load into his teasing.

As much as you searched, you could find no words to defend yourself, as the proof was truly in the potion. A bit defeated, you sunk back into your stool, content to bury your face into your hands until your next class began; but at your new level you could see Beomgyu’s own piece of parchment scrawled with what he had smelled. Reading them upside down was a bit of a challenge, but he was too busy complimenting himself to recognize your analytical stare. Written in a neat list were the scents: sage, some type of berry (juniper?), eucalyptus, something woody (cedar?).

Your heart stuttered, a bitter laugh threatening to spill out and give yourself away. Skillfully you held it back, cursing to any god or deity who might be listening. The notes matched up exactly with the perfume you wore every single day.

——

“You asked him why he sprayed his cologne?” Georgiana gaped at you across the table in the Great Hall. The two of you had joined up for lunch just hours after your Potions class disaster.

“Yes, but that’s not all! Just before I melted into a puddle of my own dispair, I saw his list, and I swear to Merlin it’s the exact notes of my perfume! Look,” you produced the travel-sized bottle from your pocket, flipping it to the back label and listing off the exact ingedients.

“Wow,” Georgiana nodded, sinking her teeth into a piece of pizza. “That’s quite remarkable.”

“Why are you not giving me more of a reaction?” You whined, stomping your foot against the floor petulantly. She raised an eyebrow high, taking a few more chews at her food.

“You want me to be honest? Or nice?” She asked, weighing the invisible options on her hands in front of you.

“Honest, I guess.”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d pick that one. You see, my sweet Y/N, the two of you have been dancing around this for years. Even though you renounced him all those years ago, I still talk to him on occasion. Not to mention he’s friends with Soobin, so I’ve been provided with some...insider information. To be honest, Soobin and I have both been waiting for the day the two of you finally stopped bickering and like...made out.”

Your face twisted unpleasantly, shocked at her words. “Insider information?” You croaked, creases forming in your forehead. Georgiana smiled devilishly and you swore you could see red horns rising from her fiery hair.

“Beomgyu talks about you all the time. Apparently, back when he was dating Klara, he would often talk to Soobin about how she never bantered with him like you did. They broke up because he kept comparing her to you. Told Soobin that he’s had a crush on you just as long as you have, but he thought you thoroughly hated him.”

“He has a crush on me?” You sputtered, stomach twisting into knots somewhere between disbelief and excitement. Georgiana full on laughed upon seeing your face, the cackle permeating through the air and turning heads.

“Well, I’m not gonna be the one to bring it up. If he’s got a crush on me, he can bring it up.” You suddenly decide, finally indulging in the pizza that had been waiting for you since you sat down.

“That’s my girl, stubborn to the very end.” Georgiana grinned and offered her hand for a high five that you eagerly returned.

——

The weekend brought you a much needed break from both schoolwork and all things Beomgyu related. Christmas break was fast approaching, and all of your professors had surprisingly laid off on assignments. It seemed as if they were just as tired of grading as you were of doing the work.

Unsurprisingly you found yourself in the library, sitting underneath the twinkling of the fairy lights set up especially for the holidays. Most other students were out socializing, so the room was pleasantly vacant. As a result you were able to settle into one of the plush velvet couches that were usually occupied.

After roaming the aisles you’d found an anthology of wizard poetry that piqued your interest. Settling beteeen the cushions of the couch with a book made you feel the most at home you ever had, cracking open the delicate binding and balancing the book in your stomach as you began to read.

There was no way to tell how long you’d been reading, but by your estimations it was only about 20 minutes before someone was looming above you. Startled, you lifted your gaze over the book to see none other than Beomgyu standing before you. He was decked out in a sage green sweater paired with slightly oversized beige slacks. He had forgone his robes, but his Head Boy pin still shined on the breast of his shirt. Typical.

“Can I help you?” You asked, finally sitting up to regard him.

“I thought you’d be here.” He said simply, shuffling on his feet awkwardly. You blinked.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you poked, slipping your book shut dramatically. “Did you want to ask me something?” Beomgyu licked at his lips before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

“Merlin, why do you make everything so hard?” He groaned and seemingly became so exhausted that he collapsed onto the ornate rug under his feet. Seeing that you’d riled him up so much by doing practically nothing sent excitement through your veins. As much as the bickering annoyed you, there was no denying the thrill you felt when giving him back a taste of his medicine.

“What exactly am I making so hard? I don’t even know what you’re here for. To be honest I’m shocked you managed to find me in the library. I figured you would start to burn at the door and have to find a different way in.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at his pillowy lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.” He finally began to reveal the award winning smile you’d come to know whenever he teased you. “I know what Georgiana told you.” His voice was low, so quiet that if there had been any other souls in the library you’d have missed it.

Your eyes flew open and he flushed instantly. “You two aren’t exactly quiet at the Great Hall, and I’ve got more than a few friends.” It was your turn to flush red, wondering just how many conversations between you and Georgiana had been overheard by other people.

“So you know that I said...”

“Why do you think I’m here? All it took was me knowing you also...you know,” he picked at the nonexistent loose threads in the carpet. Honestly, you were shocked at how reserved he had become in the face of this confrontation. All traces of his usual confidence seemed to have vanished in the moment.

“I do like you, Beomgyu. I had a massive crush on you in second year, but then we got into that fight and-”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight,” he countered animatedly. “You just never understood my humor. All this time, I was hoping that you would catch the hints.”

“Hints?” It felt like your eyes were going to fall out of your head with how wide you held them. “You call those hints? I’d call those lackluster clues, at best.”

He was quiet for a moment, examining the smirk on your lips carefully. In a moment of impulse you slid off of the couch to sit opposite him on the floor, knees touching. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, gripping at his thighs nervously. “Didn’t know how else to go about it.”

“That’s okay, me either, obviously.” A rueful laugh escaped your lips, and he returned one just as easily. Up this close, the planes of his face were defined by the delicate light provided from the fairy lights. Shyly you shared glances, neither of you knowing quite how to deal with the charged anticipation in the air.

“Will you...come to the last Quidditch game tomorrow?” He finally spoke, snapping your attention back to him.

“Only if I don’t have to wear one of your ugly jerseies.” Feeling bold, you leaned forward just a few inches, beginning to close the gap between you gradually.

“Fine,” he acquised, leaning forward just the same as you had, his breath fanning hot over your face. “In exchange for not wearing a jersey, how about you...” he tapped at his lips cheekily. A surge of excitement tumbled through you.

“That’s a shit way of asking me to kiss you for the first time, Choi.” Nevertheless you leaned forward further, bumping your nose against his own before you finally pecked him firmly on the lips. You felt ridiculously shy, like you were having your first kiss all over again, but Beomgyu smiled reassuringly, pulling your hands into his own and linking them together. The touch encouraged you both, and your lips collided with more assurance than before.

The faint scent of pumpkin juice lingered on his lips, and you wondered how many bottles he’d drank before finally deciding to come find you. Finally you both sought a new breath, taking a moment to close your eyes and collect yourself. When they fluttered back open you saw Beomgyu staring back at you intently, pupils reflecting the strands of lights strung above you.

He mumbled something so quietly that you couldn’t even hear it at your close distance.

“What was that?” You asked, wondering if you’d caught the end of a charmingly romantic thought.

“I said you’re in need of practice.” He smirked, leaning back of his hands cockily.

“Fuck you, man,” you slapped at his shoulder with a firm clap. He gasped, a hand covering his heart as if he were being sworn into a committee.

“Already? I didn’t take you for such an impure heart!” Another hearty laugh bounced around the library and you ducked your head into your hands, resigning to the fact that you were stuck with him.

1K notes · View notes

cah0mie · 3 years

Note

Since the Brothers are assholes (yes, Beel included since he wanted to eat you and didn’t care for your presence at first) when you first meet them, how about they deal with an MC that’s not gonna deal with their bullshit and isn’t phased by their threats? I hate it when otome games have you deal with jerks in the beginning but the choice bubbles are too nice whenever they insult the player.

Yeah, Yeah; They’re the top 7 demons of hell who don’t have to respect a human and are able to kill me with no effort but I don’t give a damn about that. You can’t drop me in hell with 7 assholes without my consent and expect me to be fine with it. I’m more than fine with calling em out and if they try and threaten MC, they would flat out say “At least I’ll die calling you out 🌚”

I like the way you think my guy. I couldn't agree more

To all my MCs that were much Harsher in the Beginning

-----

Mammon: Now listen here human! I was put in charge of you! In other words you have to do exactly as I say-!

MC: Shut the hell up... *Rubs temples* You're so loud.

Mammon: Wha- Who do you thi-!!

MC: Look dude. I don't really give a fuck who you are or what you could do. You really think I like the situation anymore than you do? I didn't fucking ask for an invitation, nobody even gave me a warning. So suck it up, and shut up. Cause we can't do shit now.

Mammon: I could eat you WHOLE right now!

MC: Be my guest. It'd be better then having to deal with this horse shit.

Mammon: .... What kind of human are you?

-one week later-

Levi: It seems like you're trying to suck up to me so I'll like you. It's no use denying it, I heard it straight from Lucifer.

MC: Oh nooooo, I'm caught. Whatever shall I do?

Levi: You're lucky to have so much free time too think up schemes like this. As much as I'd like to sit and watch a TSL marathon, I can't. There's so many animes I need to watch, trading cards to organize, figurines-

MC: Back the fuck up.

Levi: Eh?

MC: You're telling me you can't do what you want, cause you NEED to watch all these other shows and other shit? Bullcrap! These things are not necessities!! You can go on living without this shit! Do what the fuck you want! If you want to complain, do it in your head! Cause you have no one to blame but yourself.

Levi: You're actually treating ME like this!? You Normies, always rubbing it in that-

MC: And here you are, acting like a child. Do you ever take responsibility for your own actions? Always saying how unfair things are. News Flash! Life isn't fucking fair!

Levi: I could-!!

MC: Eat me? Smite me? Make me feel things I wish I didn't? Fucking go for it dude, I'm so fucking over it.

Levi: ...... Forget this, I have better things to do....

-a day or so later-

Lucifer: You should focus on surviving this year here, finishing the exchange program and going back to the human world. "Curiosity killed the cat". Curiosity can very literally get you killed here as well.

MC: Hey Lucifer, has it ever occurred to you that just maybe.... I DON'T CARE.

Lucifer: You're telling me that you don't value your life?

MC: No, I'm just telling you that I haven't been here long and I'm already over the whole, "I am above you" thing. You yourself, aren't willing to put a scratch on me since you're a fucking lapdog to his majesty.

Lucifer: You rotten-!!

MC: Save it dude, ya ain't gonna do shit. Hell, ya don't even know what my life may have been like before y'all kidnapped me. For all you know, this is everyday life for me.

Lucifer: .....What would you do if a lower level demon ever got their hands on you?

MC: Number one, you wouldn't let that shit happen in the first place. Number two, I'd just fucking let it happen. They probably have a better out for me than you guys.

Lucifer: ..... You petty and ungrateful creature.

MC: *shrugs* Truth hurts doesn't bitch?

-a week later-

Beel: You ate my creme puff, it had my name on it!

MC: You destroyed my wall and injured me. I think we're pretty even.

Beel: No we're not! Give it back!

MC: ...... If you're THAT fucking determined wait a few hours it'll come back.

Beel: That's disgusting.

MC: You kept fucking pushing it. Your own damn fault. Look, I'm an ass for eating you food, but you really are overreacting this is ridiculous.

Beel: It was my food!!

MC: ..... We're just going in circles at this point....

-a week later-

MC: Yo, fucklust! Ya mind not standing in front of the camera every fucking time!?

Asmo: But wouldn't you rather have a picture of something beautiful?

MC: I would. All the more reason for you to get the fuck out of my way!

Asmo: ... Are you saying, I'm not beautiful? Are you actually insulting ME?

MC: 'Oh how dare you! You hurt my feelings and called me out on shit! I shall kill you now!' If that's not petty, I don't know what is..

Asmo: .... You're not very nice.

MC: Like any of you have room to talk

-two days later-

Satan: Are you actually rejecting ME!? You!? A mere human!?

MC: Oh, cut the shit!! Satan! Why the flying FUCK would I make a pact with you! I'm making pacts to gain Lucifer's respect, NOT PISS HIM OFF MORE!!

Satan: Does it look like a I care!? I said to do it!

MC: And I said to fuck off! I'm not going through with this Satan!

Satan: I will cut of your nose and ears. Rip off your arms and legs. And feed you to a lower level demon!!

MC: Fucking go for it dude, I don't give a damn anymore. You lot are impossible to talk sense to, and this here proves it.

Satan: Don't you dare trifle with me!

MC: Y'all are just toddlers who cry when things don't go your way!

-when mc goes back in time-

Belphie: Aaww.. You don't know want a hug? Shame, I was hoping to share my happiness with you..

MC: Yeah, I'm sure you did

Belphie: What does that mean?

MC: I mean, you never did plan on walking out of this together, did you? You had always planned on taking me out and walking away yourself.

Belphie: ...... If you'd known that, why did you help me?

MC: Number one, THIS *gestures to door* was an ACCIDENT. Number two, I may or may not have made a mistake and I'm trying to fix it. Number three, Beel misses you so much. How can I not? So let's just walk away from this together and join the rest of the-!

Belphie: *starts choking the life out of them*

MC: Or just kill me, get it over with, and I won't have to bother with any of you anymore.

Belphie: With pleasure.

-When MC encounters Belphie once again in the time loop-

Belphie: How can a human have such a strong will to live.

MC: Because I am determined to tell each and every one of you how fucking stupid you all are.

-----------

This is a lot longer than I intended it to be. I'm sorry I still don't know how to place the keep reading button (or whatever it is). I had quite a bit of fun writing this, I hope you have just as much fun reading it 😁

I accept all forms of constructive criticism, so if you see anything you feel could be better let me know.

#obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me shenanigans #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x y/n #obey me x mc #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x you

470 notes · View notes

moonctzeny · 4 years

Text

Baby

au+trope+prompt game: college!au Jaehyun + fake dating + it’s just so hard not to fall in love with you

pairing: jung jaehyun x fem!reader x asshole!yuta

other members as background characters: yuta, mark, johnny, jungwoo

genre: angst, smut

word count: 9,124

warnings: abusive relationship, toxic behaviour

summary: “When Yuta breaks your heart for the millionth time, you meet Jaehyun, freshly broken up and looking for revenge. You decide to start fake dating to get back on your exes, but your plan takes an unexpected turn. You fall in love.”

a/n: I really don’t like putting yuta in a negative light like that it’s just for the fic’s sake! also I literally used the name Naeun as Jaehyun’s ex because I think it’s SUCH a pretty name, NO correlation whatsoever to any korean celebrity named naeun!

_____________________________________

You knew it was wrong.

Looking through your boyfriend’s, Yuta’s, phone while he took a shower, was the arguably the tackiest thing you have ever done.

He was always distant lately, only seeming to make time for a booty call, and at first, you blamed your hectic schedule. Your major was demanding, to say the least, so when Yuta suggested that you replace your dates with some “quality time” at his dorm, you had no objections. You didn’t know that he also meant ignoring your calls, canceling on you at the last minute to meet up with his frat brothers, and keeping your relationship strictly between four walls and two naked bodies.

The thought of him meaning more to you than you meant for him ate you away. It creeped in your mind while you heard the water running from your shower, and lead your fingertips to tap in the password of his phone.

Opening his messaging app, you recognize his best friends’ icons in a group chat consisting of his frat members. You scrolled up, ignoring the latest massages regarding a party that the frat would be throwing in two weeks. You started to feel guilty, not exactly sure what you were looking for, when you saw your name at the screen.

m0rklee[00:10]: @yutassanhyung, i saw your girl today at the supermarket! why didn’t you tell her about the party next Sunday?

you[00:12]: what girl lol

m0rklee[00:13]: y/n?? i thought you guys were together?

you[00:12]: nahh

fairyteil[00:15]: eyy @yutassan if you’re done with her i know a couple guys who wanna hit it too

you[00:16]: be my guest haha

you[00:16]: don’t get me wrong she was bad when we met but shit is getting kinda stale

tenoutoften[00:17]: aren’t you on your way to her place lol

you[00:17]: hey hey pussy is pussy

Was that all you were to him? Pussy?

Yuta called you special, he called you yours. He didn’t like it when you were talking to other guys. He ripped your lingerie set because he didn’t want anyone else to ever see you in it but him. And then he dared to go around and call you a fling?

You heard the water stop running and knew you didn’t have much time until you had to face him, the thought alone making you sick.

You didn’t bother to lock his phone again, leaving the chat that made you so upset open. Grabbing your keys and a jacket, you left your place and hoped that Yuta would get the message and get the fuck out of there before you came back.

Your legs walked on their own accord, your memory leading you to the only place where you knew you’d find any sort of comfort. When Johnny opened his door, tears were already streaming down your face. He took the open tequila bottle you were holding and pulled you in for a hug. He smelled like weed and beer, and after hearing the “Is that the pizzas?”, you realized that your best friend wasn’t alone.

You quickly wiped your cheeks and fixed your sex hair that Yuta messed up, trying your best to look presentable. Johnny put a hand on your back and lead you to his living room. Jungwoo, your and Johnny’s friend from high school, was sprawled out on the couch, a little disappointed after seeing that you were, in fact, not the pizzas. Next to him, drowning in a bean bag, was Jaehyun. You didn’t really know him very well other than the fact that he took the same major as Johnny, so you felt a little insecure looking as messy as you did right now. His eyes were red, just like the other men’s, but you could swear his eyelashes looked a little damp.

Jungwoo’s words were muffled by the barbecue chips he was munching away.

“Yoo y/n, I didn’t know you were coming!”

You placed the tequila bottle on the table,

“Yeah, Woo, figured you wanted something to drink”

“Move” Johnny murmured to him, but he only stretched and sighed dramatically, shoving a handful of chips in his mouth.

“I don’t need a drink I need food. I’m hungry and I got the munchies”

Johnny grabbed his ankle and with impressive ease, dragged Jungwoo to the floor. The taller man sat on the couch, on the side next to Jaehyun and you followed his lead, letting a grumpy Jungwoo lean his head on your knees. Taking the lit joint from Jaehyun’s fingers, Johnny turned his attention back on you.

“So tell me chica” he said and took a hit, “who do I have to beat up?”

“Yuta”, you grumbled, “I’m ghosting this motherfucker”

You felt the vibrations on your lap when Jungwoo started talking.

“What did he do this time? Didn’t I tell you not to get involved with stupid frat boys?”

You started petting his hair, the softness comforting under your fingers.

“Apparently I’m not ‘bad’ enough for him anymore” you replied, throwing air quotes and rolling your eyes.

“Whaaaaat” Johnny drew out with a cough after taking a particularly deep inhale from the blunt, “you’re like the baddest bitch I know. Even now, that you’re all puffy from crying and smell like his dick”

You hit his shoulder, almost dropping the joint he was passing to Jungwoo, embarrassed that he would say something like that in front of Jaehyun, an almost stranger to you.

“I don’t know, man” Jungwoo started, and you could hear the smile on his face, “when girls cry it’s kinda hot”

You were contemplating how many hairs of his you should rip out of his scalp when the telecom rang, assumably by the pizza delivery man.

“Saved by the bell”, Jungwoo muttered to himself and got up quickly to open the door. While the youngest paid for the pizzas, Johnny held your hand, a bit guilty for his words earlier. He had a mischievous smirk and kept shifting his gaze between you and Jaehyun, who had been sitting in silence ever since you got here, occasionally smiling at your friends’ teasing.

“Fuck Yuta, man. You should find a nice guy to treat you well and fuck you even better y’know?” he started, and patted his buddy roughly on the back, “Like Jae over here”

Your eyes widened and you instinctively glanced at Jaehyun, ears a deep red and a matching shocked look on his face.

You cleared your throat, “No offense, but, like, aren’t you practically married to this girl-uhhh what’s her name again? Naeun?”

To someone who wasn’t listening to your conversation, it must have seemed like you tased him, or brought up a painful childhood memory, or asked him if he’d be willing to lick a lemon after washing his teeth. He looked away from you, and turned his attention to his nails, ripping a cuticle off in deep concentration. His voice was so quiet when he finally spoke, that you barely heard him. “I broke up with her, actually.. Like, three hours ago”

Guilt washed over you in an instant, not knowing that you scratched a wound so fresh. You wanted to apologize and even ask if you should leave the three alone, when Jungwoo grabbed the Tequila bottle and crashed on the couch clumsily between you and Johnny.

“Fuck love!”, he yelled, “let’s get wasted”

_______________________________________

You stared at the empty José Cuervo bottle rising up and down Johnny’s chest with every one of his snores. He was laid out on his couch, his tall height taking up all of its entirety, leaving Jungwoo passed out on the floor. Jaehyun followed your eyes and smiled at Johnny’s sleeping face, mouth open and tongue spilling out.

After the 4th shot, you found out that Jae was a pretty decent guy. He let you rant about Yuta while your friends were busy trying to see who could eat a large pizza by himself the fastest. You told him all about how you never went on dates anymore, how you looked through his phone after having sex, and the text conversation you found earlier tonight. He listened carefully, without judgment, and after smoking some more of Johnny’s staff, he opened up to you about his relationship with Naeun.

Or rather, how he found her fucking his roommate on his own bed.

You always thought of these two as what they call a ‘power couple’. Valedictorian meets basketball all-star, they graduate and have beautiful babies, while all the rest of us mortals can do is admire from afar. You would have never guessed the toxicity, constant cheating and manipulation that Jaehyun was recounting. You bonded over stories about cancelled dates, emotional distancing and feeling like you’re always the one giving but never receiving. If you were being honest, you would have never expected such emotional depth from a college point guard. He drew you in with his gentleness, and you noticed how different he was from Yuta, who engulfed you with his intensity. You also hated how even now, you were still thinking of him.

Just then, you got his third message for the night:

asshole [03:35]:come on baby don’t ignore mee, me and the guys were just messing around

you [03:36]:stop texting me

you [03:38]:we’re done

You locked your phone, upset and angry, and felt Jaehyun sigh.

“I know I’m falling for her stupid games, but I just want to get back at her y’know? Show her what she’s missing, that type of thing”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. During the past hours, you weighted all the possible ways you could make Yuta regret ever taking you for granted.

He was so charming that he could get laid with anyone he wanted (and probably did, even when you were ‘dating’), but even after what he said to Taeil, you knew that he hated the thought of anyone else fucking you. He wanted your body to be his, without having to deal with the commitment that came with that privilege.

You thought about fucking one of his frat buddies, but that would get you from being called ‘Yuta’s girl’ to ‘ΘΨΩ’s cumslut’, and your self esteem couldn’t take that blow.

Jaehyun’s deep voice interrupted your train of thoughts.

“Maybe Johnny’s right”

“Huh? ”

“You should date me”

You blinked at him twice, not knowing what to reply when you saw him wave his hands frantically in front of his face.

“Fake date me! I mean, you should fake date me. Sorry, the weed’s got me a little fucked up”

At first, the idea seemed crazy. Yes, it would make Yuta furious that you were supposedly fucking one of the hottest guys on campus. Yes, Naeun would get mad that she didn’t have Jaehyun’s constant attention that she so craved anymore. Yes, you two might have revealed your deepest insecurities, opened up your hearts to each other all while sharing a bottle of alcohol, but you had never hanged out together without Johnny being present. You had barely hanged out together, period. But wouldn’t that make it even more believable? Two of Johnny’s best friends break up at the same time, meet up at his house and inevitably end up together. You didn’t share the same major, so you wouldn’t have to put up the act too much at college. And with social media, making a fake relationship believable was easier than ever.

asshole [03:42]: fuck you. you think you can find someone better than me?

Drunk and lacking logic, you agreed on the plan, and gave him your number. You had just finished creating the contact on his phone when he suddenly got up and rushed to the bathroom, facing the consequences of the tequila and weed combo.

You passed out on Johnny’s bean bag and when you woke up on Sunday afternoon, Jaehyun was gone.

———————————————————

You didn’t expect him to text you on Monday, thinking that it was intoxication that gave him the idea of fake dating and made it look brilliant. So when he gave you the address to his dorm, to further discuss your ‘operation’ you were surprised, but determined to succeed.

The plan was simple. You would start tagging each other on your instagram stories, to show people that you were spending time alone. He agreed to pick you up from your lecture on Wednesday, your classes coinciding on neighboring buildings. And for you final act, he’d come with you as your plus one for the frat’s party next Sunday. Mark was nice enough to invite you, after Yuta ‘forgot’ to do it instead, and Naeun, being Taeil’s sister, wouldn’t miss it for the world. It was the perfect opportunity to flaunt your new relationship, all while being on the opponent’s part of the field.

You started off innocently enough. After you and Jaehyun finished brainstorming ideas about the ‘operation’ as he insisted on calling it, he suggested you stay for a movie and some Chinese food. His dorm was cozy, a little messy, maybe, but it fitted his boyish charm. He had a nice collection of vinyls, stating that his favorite one was I. by Cigarettes After Sex. You were a bit taken aback by his love for dreampop and rnb, but the more you got to know him, the more it seemed to fit him nicely. On the wall next to his bed hung a display full of all of his sport trophies. He was known for his basketball skills, but you also saw medals for soccer, track, volleyball. Amongst them all was an English certificate and a spelling bee award. You wondered if he ever felt pressure trying to be so perfect all the time.

The movie was terrible, but Jaehyun managed to entertain you by making silly jokes throughout and mocking the actors’ bad acting. It was the first time you ever saw him crack a joke like that and be willing to contort his handsome features. So much better than the dream boy image he was feigning for everyone, but you didn’t know him well enough to tell him. The movie was halfway done when he picked up his phone and opened a camera app through his Instagram.

“Shouldn’t we take a story? Since we’re together anyways?”

You nodded and scooted closer to him. He was a bit hesitant as he positioned the camera to capture your legs that were touching, a scene from the movie playing in the background. It was a cute picture but nothing indicated that the two of you were more than friends. You pressed the X at the top of the screen to discard the picture, and placed his hand on top of your thigh. You turned around just in time to witness his ears turning into a fuschia pink.

“Is that okay?”

He nodded and regained his cool, taking the picture and tagging you with a red heart next to your username.

A couple hours after leaving his place you texted him, asking if Naeun had replied to his story. He said that unfortunately, the only person who batted an eye was Johnny, replying with a “ 👀 👀 👀 “ .

———————————————————

You met up again the next day, at your apartment this time.

He looked nervous being in a place so foreign to him yet so personal to you, so you decided to turn the lights down to help him relax, insisting that you weren’t trying to seduce him or anything. He laughed at your joke but still looked tense, and you thought that maybe he needed some liquid courage to open up.

“Hey Jae. Want a drink?”

It took him 3 beers to finally loosen up and show you his dimpled grin again. You were sitting on the floor, facing each other and feeling comfortable in the ambience of the room. A Spotify playlist was playing in the background so it would fill up the awkward silence but wouldn’t distract you from your conversation.

“Wait wait wait. So you sleep without a pillowcase?”

“Yeah, didn’t you notice it when you came to my place yesterday?”

“I thought you forgot to do your laundry!”

His laugh was resonating and deep and manly. It made his eyes disappear and his face light up, not that it didn’t anyway - the guy could easily be a skin care ambassador, and you made a mental note to ask him about his moisturizer later.

You followed his gaze to one of your walls. Pictures were filling it up, memories of yourself and your siblings, of your friends from home that you missed, of Johnny and Jungwoo. You felt a little insecure then, comparing them to Jaehyun’s countless medals and awards.

“I’m not good at sports like you, so I have nothing else to hang on my wall”, you laughed awkwardly but he shook his head.

“No, I’m actually jealous of you. Everyone always seems to want to be around you”

“Except Yuta”

“Yuta’s an idiot, then. You are way out of his league anyways.”

You felt yourself turning into a blushing mess and looked for a way to break the awkward silence that followed his comment.

“Wanna share another one?” you asked him, shaking the empty beer bottle on your hand and he nodded. You started getting up when you felt him put a hand on your shoulder and pick up the bottles you had finished up from the table himself. He rinsed them off and put them away to the recycling bag next to your sink, the domesticity of the action making you melt. You watched as he stood on his tiptoes to reach a lager from the top drawer of your fridge, revealing a defined set of abs and two cute dimples on his lower back. You ripped your eyes away immediately, like you were caught doing something illegal, and he walked back to his spot next to you. As soon as he sat down, he groaned and threw his head back.

“The bottle opener was on the kitchen counter. I forgot to bring it”

Without saying a word, you took the beer from his hand and placed the cap in your mouth. It was a party trick that your older brother had taught you when you were 15. After finding a stable indentation on your teeth, you manipulate the rough edges of the cap and pop the beer open. You return the glass bottle to Jaehyun, who’s looking at you incredulously.

“Fuck me, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”, he breaths out and you feel your whole face burning up. You opened and closed your mouth a couple times, trying to register that someone like him thought you were hot, when you felt your phone vibrating, saving you from further embarrassing yourself.

Johnny’s picture lit up on the screen and you mentally prepared yourself for the following conversation. You and Jaehyun decided against telling anyone about your relationship being fake. It’s not that your best friend wasn’t reliable, but if you told Johnny you had to tell Jungwoo, and Jungwoo doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut to save his life.

“John, what’s up”

“Eyy chica what took you so long?”

You looked at Jaehyun who had leaned back against the pillow of your couch and sipped on the beer you would share.

“Yeah sorry I was a little busy”

“Busy.. with Jaehyun?”

You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but you were still trying to recover from the previous incident.

“Yeah, he’s here”

“Ohh I see, little y/n can’t get enough of Jae’s slam dunks.. I bet he’s teaching you the bank shot, the opening tip, the double dribble, the fast break, the palming.. he sure is great for a rebound-”

You interrupted him, growing tired of his nonstop basketball innuendos.

“Why did you call me Johnny?”

“Damn, sorry, I just wanted to ask you what you wanted for your birthday”

Shit, you forgot about that.

“Just get me whatever, I don’t care, you know how much I hate celebrating anyways. I’ll get the cake myself, so no surprises”

Jaehyun lifted his brows and waited patiently for your call to end before asking:

“What are we celebrating?”

“It’s my birthday on Friday. I’m going to invite a couple people over and Johnny’s already stressing over it. Don’t worry, though, you don’t have to come”

“How can your boyfriend not come to your birthday party?”

You laugh bitterly.

“Well, it’s not like Yuta came last year. To any of my parties for that matter”

“Well, he must have made up to you somehow? Got you a very special gift or something?”

“If you count eating me out as a gift then yes. It was very rare indeed.”

You took the beer from him and took a sip yourself. You noticed he had his eyes glued on his phone, his expression gloomy.

“Is everything okay?”

He snapped out of it at the sound of your voice and turned his phone screen towards you.

It was Naeun, or rather a post on her instagram account. She had her tongue out in the picture, hugging two guys that were unfamiliar to you. You read the caption.

“One day the loser will realize that the diamond he thinks he’s playing with is actually a rock”

Jaehyun mumbled an apology. I guess he thought that you’d be a bit offended being called a ‘rock’ but you were actually feeling satisfied. Your fake relationship had managed to get her attention, and for Jaehyun’s sake, you wanted to rub it in her face even more.

You opened your camera app and placed your phone on the table next to you. He figured what you wanted to do so he sat up straighter and motioned to his lap. You’d normally be a bit hesitant to sit on him if it wasn’t for the two beers and your determination, that had fired up again due to Naeun’s words. Leaning back a bit, you set up the self-timer and he put his hands on your hips to stabilize you.

You had agreed on turning up the boldness of your pics, so you placed your hands on his neck, right under his jawline. He snaked his hands upwards and wrapped them around your waist, bringing you even closer. His eyes were glossy from the alcohol and he looked at you with an impressive calmness, considering the intimacy of your position. It seemed like he was waiting for something, the ticking of the timer urging you to take things a bit further and he nodded, as if giving you permission. You leaned in, and pressed your lips on the corner of his mouth, like you couldn’t decide on kissing his dimple or his lips.

After hearing the click you climbed down from his lap, and prayed that the photo came out in focus. Your heart couldn’t handle another retake. From the angle of the camera, it seemed like you were a couple in love, sharing a sweet kiss on the lips. You added a cute caption and tagged him, so he could repost it later on his own account.

It hadn’t been 5 minutes before your phone lit up.

yutassan replied to your story: what the fuck?

You smiled triumphantly and showed the message to Jaehyun, who laughed at Yuta’s reaction. He gave you an excuse about some forgotten homework and how it was late and he has to go.

“Remember, I’ll pick you up tomorrow from class, so wait for me”

After he left, you thought about your almost kiss and the dimples of his back for way too long.

——————————————————

You exited the classroom with a growing headache. The lesson today seemed extra boring, and all you could think about was that you had to convince Johnny that it really took just three days for Jaehyun and you to officially start dating.

As promised, the pair waited for you at the end of the hallway, your best friend looking at the two of you expectantly. Jaehyun was a good actor, you thought, as he approached you before you got to reach them, meeting you halfway.

“Hey baby”, he smiled at you, the nickname turning your legs into jelly. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder, and kissed your cheek sweetly, making Johnny coo at the two of you.

“I can’t believe that I hadn’t thought about pairing the two of you together earlier”

He must have thought that the awkward body language and the silence that fell was a sign from you and Jae to leave you alone. He excused himself, saying something about “letting the young lovers swim in the pool of their love”, or something along those lines.

The two of you walked together, following the road to your next class that was just a few buildings away.

“So how has class, baby

You rolled your eyes at the insistent nickname, “you know that Johnny left us, like, 5 minutes ago, right?”

“Let me enjoy itttt”, he whined, “Naeun never let me call her anything like that”

“Why is that?”

He looked at his feet moving and frowned in thought.

“She said I was embarrassing her in front of her friends. I think she just didn’t want other guys to know that we were together”

You felt a pang of sadness and you realized that it always followed any conversation you two had about his and Naeun’s relationship.

“Well then if you call me baby, I can will you honey. Or sugarplum. Or pumpkin pie. Or-“

It was startling how fast Jaehyun pressed you up against the wall. In just a moment, he had put his hands on your waist, burying his face in your hair. You shivered when you felt his breath as he spoke against your neck.

“Yuta’s watching us”

All you could do was stay frozen in place, and listen with wide eyes.

“Huh?”

He chuckled at your response, but he replied patiently.

“Yuta? Your ex? He’s right over there. Figured we should give him a show”

And with that, he kissed you. Everything was happening so fast, that you could barely comprehend that Jaehyun, that was a stranger in the past weekend, was now making out with you at the hall, for everyone to see.

And that included Yuta.

You opened your eyes in the kiss and searched for him, spotting him with his frat buddies. His eyes were piercing through the two of you, and you saw Mark holding him back by the shoulder. The look on his face was priceless.

Jaehyun pulled back and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Thank you”, you whispered, “but I need one more favor”

“Anything baby”

“Slap my ass as we walk away”

Sure enough, Jaehyun took your hand and you continue your walk, momentarily stopping to make eye contact with Yuta and give you a little spank. It was something your ex loved doing on the rare occasion you two met up outside of your dorms, no matter how public the setting. You heard Mark yelling something at his ‘Yuta hyung’ and that’s when you thought, your plan just might work.

———————————————————

You didn’t see Jaehyun until your birthday. It was just a small get together, but your place was starting to get a bit crowded as time went by. Johnny had been suffocating you with hugs ever since he got there, reminiscing the time you met as teenagers and calling you an old lady. Jungwoo on the other hand couldn’t stop asking about Jaehyun. You kept making excuses about how he didn’t feel so good today and might not make it. You didn’t expect him to come, of course. Just because you had agreed on fake dating, it didn’t mean that he had any obligation to be present in all your social events. The loving message he left on your Facebook wall was enough to fulfill the purpose of your current relationship.

That is why, when you heard a knock on your door, the last thing you thought you’d see was Jaehyun holding a dozen of red roses.

“Happy birthday baby!”, he exclaimed and gave you a kiss on your cheek,

“I asked Johnny about your favorite flowers, hope we got it right”

Feeling speechless, you took the roses from his hands and inhaled their sweet scent. You were dumbfounded that he actually came, and even brought you a present. You thanked him for coming, and he repeated the same thing he said back at your place, “how could your boyfriend miss your birthday?”

And even you were fooled, momentarily, when he held you by the waist later that night and sang you happy birthday. You blew your candles and all you could wish for was a love like the one Jaehyun was faking for you. He helped you clean up, and was more than willing to socialize with all of your friends. You admired how well he fitted in your social circle, already friends with Johnny and Jungwoo, yet so nice that even people he met for the first time came to love him.

You were sitting on one of your dining chairs, your two best friends already passed out on your couch. They had brought two bottles of vodka and your favorite tequila, but you weren’t in the mood to drink. You couldn’t help but remember the time when you practically begged Yuta to be there on your special day and he still missed it. You were scared that if you got a little drunk you would text him, or worse, call him, his sweet talk bringing you back to him all over again.

The only sounds resonating through your apartment were Jungwoo’s light snoring and a chill Spotify playlist playing from your laptop. A familiar tune came on, and you recognized it being ‘Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby’ by Cigarettes After Sex. You immediately looked at Jaehyun, the only conscious person still at the party other than you. He threw his head back and sighed contently at the sound of his favorite song. You saw him get up and walk over to you, reaching his hand out.

“Will the birthday girl spare me a dance?”

You slow danced in the middle of your living room, ending the night in the sweetest note. Jaehyun always felt so stable, so safe. You wondered how he got himself tangled up in that mess of a relationship with Naeun. Maybe it was the way he treated people with such kindness, void of any prejudice. Maybe he was a little bit like you, and didn’t think he deserved much.

“She’s crazy” you mumble against his chest, his confused hum making you feel the vibration on your face.

“Naeun. She’s crazy for ever cheating on someone like you. You’re perfect”

“I have my flaws”

You thought about how competitive he got when you played beer pong earlier, how his ears get red when he gets embarrassed, how he shows his dimpled smile in apology when he’s late. His love for drinking and how it makes him more honest, his trust in people that must have gotten him hurt many, many times. You liked them all, you loved them all.

“It’s just so hard for someone not to fall in love with you”

———————————————————

And that’s how the days went by with Jaehyun. You met up almost every day, in restaurants for a nice dinner, or hanging out in each other’s dorm. It was so much fun getting to spend time with him, that you sometimes forgot to make your meetup public on social media. You helped him with his math homework, and he helped you dye your hair. You even went to his basketball game, and he dedicated one of his goals to you, following every teen movie cliche.

You felt a little sad how it was all falling to an end. The plan was successful, for the most part. Naeun had asked Jaehyun to meet up later tonight, talk things through. You wished he wouldn’t go back to her, but you knew you had no real say in his love life. Yuta saw that he didn’t own you, that there were people like Jaehyun that were willing to give you what your ex had promised you, but wasn’t able to give. Well, not really, you reminded yourself. Jaehyun was faking it. You shouldn’t let yourself get lost in the fairytale, even if the past two weeks were some of the best of your life. He had proposed that you claim that the reason for your upcoming ‘breakup’ was differences in character, but you decided to stay friends. You were happy that at least, in the midst of all this mess, you met someone like him.

It was Saturday, a day before the frat party. You had invited him over, celebrate the end of your relationship with some pizza and a movie.

The movie was boring, but Jaehyun made you laugh. It reminded you of the first time the two of you met up alone. You had gotten comfy on your couch, sharing popcorn when you noticed. A huge bruise was peeking out from Jaehyun’s tank top, the dark color contrasting against his porcelain skin.

“What the hell?!” you exclaimed and scooted closer to him. You rushed your hands on his chest, your fingers pushing the fabric aside to examine the bruise. You found even more bruises scattered around it, accompanied with scratches that stretched longer than his top could.

“It was from the game the other day”, he tried to excuse, but you weren’t buying it.

“Jae, I was there. You played basketball, not WWE. Now who did this to you?”

He sighed and fidgeted with a loose string on his jeans, clearly uncomfortable.

“When I caught Naeun with my roommate, and broke up with her, she didn’t take it very well”

You kept staring at him, urging him to continue.

“She started calling me names, saying that she’s the best I’ll ever have. That I’m worthless without her, just a social climber trying to mooch off of her popularity”

He motioned on his torso, “When I kicked her out of my place, this happened”

“Is that the first time she acted violent?”

He shook his head. “Pretty much every time she didn’t get her way”

“Jae”, you started, placing your hands on top of his “this is abuse. Have you ever talked to anyone about it?”

“It’s- it’s nothing. It’s embarrassing”

“No it’s not! Abuse is not exclusive to any gender! Guys get affected by it too!”

“It’s embarrassing because I know I can physically stop her but I don’t”

His eyes were starting to water, the sight was heartbreaking. “I sit there frozen and just take it”

“Why?”

“Because part of me believes her. That I’m hopeless without someone like her, dictating what I can and cannot do. I don’t need a shrink to tell me that it’s sick. I have these bruises to remind me”

You were starting to get angry. Angry at that bitch for hurting him, angry at Jaehyun who puts up with it, angry at you, for not seeing past the obvious like everyone else.

“I’m not letting you go see her tonight”

He laughs at you, putting up an invisible barrier between you.

“Not letting me? Wake up y/n! We’re not a real couple, remember? We’re just faking it to satisfy our selfish needs. This whole thing is pointless”

He stormed to the door and you tried to stop him, but he was too riled up for that.

“You’re going to forget about me as soon as this whole circus is over, just like everyone else”

“How can you accuse me like that when you haven’t even let me be a part of your life for real?”

“Because now you’ve met me. Me. With all my ugly, all my fucking bruises. Is it still so hard not to fall in love with me?”

With that, he closed your door with a bang, not even letting you answer that yes, it was impossible not to fall in love with Jung Jaehyun.

———————————————————

History seemed to repeat itself, as you got a text from him the next morning, that you didn’t expect.

jaehyunnie: let’s meet outside of the frat at 10:30, i’ll bring the booze.

And that’s what you did, showing up with your shortest skirt, spotting Jaehyun sitting a few meters from the frat’s entrance. He was laying against the wall, his eyes red, and he gave you the same smile he always did when he saw you, as if your fight yesterday never happened.

“Hey baby” he said and pulled you in for a hug. You couldn’t resist the invitation, and felt yourself melting in his embrace. He smelled like weed and shower gel.

It was nice, how he proclaimed your truce, but you still had to get something off your chest.

“Listen, Jae, about last night, you were right. This whole thing is pointless. We can go home, if you want”

“No baby”, he started and pulled away just enough to look at you. His eyes were droopy but glancing back at you with such care as he moved a strand of hair out of your face, “we’re here to have fun”

You wondered why he was still willing to come to the party with you as your boyfriend. Maybe he wanted to do you one last favor with Yuta, or maybe he wasn’t done indulging in Naeun’s petty games. You looked at his forearms, noticing a few scratches that weren’t there yesterday.

“I’m guessing you and Naeun didn’t make up last night”

He shook his head, and rubbed his hands on your back, keeping your temper down.

“Did you get in a fight?”

“Something like that”

You didn’t know what came over you. It was anger and protectiveness, possessiveness even. You laced your fingers in his locks, letting his head rest against the wall. If Naeun wanted you to speak in her language, then so be it.

You started kissing his neck, on that part on the side that is tender and sensitive. You heard passerbys whistling at the two of you, seemingly getting it on in public. Your licks and sucks weren’t meant for pleasure though, you had a goal and that was to leave a bruise. A statement for Naeun.

You walked in the building hand in hand and followed Jae to the kitchen, where he poured you a drink out of the bottle he brought along. Looking around, you sensed a couple familiar faces staring back at you from the crowd. Taeyong from class, Mark and Ten, and last but not least, Naeun. You downed the drink in one shot and lead Jaehyun to the dance floor.

He put his hands on your hips, and swayed you at the sound of some club song you weren’t familiar with. You ground your ass against him and he hissed, keeping you close against him. A little voice in your head was screaming how this isn’t real, to him this is all pretend, but you ignored it. You wanted her to think that he was yours, that she couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“Why are you doing this to me y/n? Yuta’s not even around”

Jae turned you around, and you put your hands on his shoulders. He looked absolutely breathtaking tonight. You searched his face for a flaw, yet couldn’t find any. You wouldn’t change a single thing on him.

“She’s here” you said venomously.

He buried his face in your neck, inhaling the smell of your hair and trying to ground himself from his high. “I don’t give a fuck about Naeun”

He kissed your ear and your mind fogged up even more.

“She didn’t ask me to meet up yesterday, I did. I wanted to tell her that she and I were done, for good. I thought she wouldn’t be here tonight, but I guess she changed her mind”

What?

“Then why are you here? And why did you let me give you that big ass hickey?”

He stopped nibbling on your ear, and whispered to it instead.

“I’d never miss up on a chance to feel yours”

The bodies dancing next to you, the liquer you had downed a few minutes ago and Jaehyun’s words were getting too much to handle. You felt suffocated, unable to distinguish where reality ended and pretending began with you two.

“Jae, I need a moment, excuse me”

Releasing yourself from his grasp, you made your way to the kitchen. There wasn’t any fresh air, but there was plenty of booze. You poured yourself a shot and as you downed it, you felt another liquid trickling down your top.

You looked up to find out who managed to make this night even worse for you, only to come across the last person you needed to see tonight. Yuta.

“Shit I’m sorry”, he muttered and you avoided eye contact, thinking you’d manage to get away without him realizing it was you. Luck wasn’t on your side tonight.

“Well well well. Long time no see.”

Confidence was dripping from his smile, to his stance, to the way he looked at you. He had dyed his hair your favorite color, his white locks begging to be tugged and played with. To top it all off, he smelled good, so, so good. He smelled dangerous. Comfortable.

You immediately realized that you didn’t have the self control needed to resist him. Turning on your heel, you started to get the hell out of there when he held your wrist, keeping you in place.

“Wait, I’m sorry, you can’t stay like this, you’ll catch a cold”

“Since when are you worried about me?”

“C’mon y/n, please. Come upstairs, I’ll give you a clean shirt. No funny business, I promise”

You hated yourself for this, but you followed him upstairs to his room, like a pray falling right into the hunter’s trap. He closed the door behind him, muting the loud music and you sat on his bed that you were so familiar with. Looking through his closet, he passed you one of his t-shirts, and turned around to let you change with some privacy. It was comical how chivalrous he was acting, considering the unspeakable things you’ve done in here.

“Not like you’ll see something you haven’t seen already”, you murmured and he chuckled, raising his hands.

“Hey, I’m a gentleman. It’s my fault, after all. I have a habit of getting you wet.”

Blushing at his comment, you quickly changed into the clean shirt and felt the bed dip next to you. You thanked him under your breath and started getting up, when you felt him hold you back once again.

“Stay, just a moment. I’ve missed you”

“What do you want?”

“You, baby”

Yuta was the one who said it, but you swore you felt Jaehyun’s voice reverberating through the nickname. Suddenly, it felt like there was no air for you to breathe.

“That’s not happening, Yuta. I’m with Jaehyun now”

He scoffed, “Jaehyun? Naeun’s puppy? Come on now, we both know you can do better than that”

“Don’t talk about him like that”, you bite back, but he doesn’t budge.

“What kind of boyfriend leaves his girl alone in a party like this?” He grips your chin, making you stare at him face to face, impossibly close. “Look at you. Every single guy in this party wants to fuck you. You expect me to be ok with this?”

Yuta lets his other hand glide on your knee, moving up to your thigh slowly. He smiled at how easy it was to focus on him.

“Do you remember how I made you feel? How I reminded you that you’re mine? You were moaning so loud, Mark thought you’d pass out. You loved it.”

You wanted to scream, tell him that this was the past you, that you couldn’t take going back to him once again and get your heart broken one more time, but you felt helpless around him. The warm feeling was only temporary, it would soon evaporate when you face the fact that to him, you are nothing but a play toy, a possession.

And that’s when Jaehyun barged in through the door. His eyes moved frantically from Yuta’s hands on your thighs, to his band tee you wore, to your discarded top on the floor. He quickly turned red, the color spreading from his neck to his face, then landing on his ears.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my girlfriend?”

You instantly got up, following his thought sequence.

“It’s not what it looks like! He spilled his drink on me and gave me a clean shirt and..and..”

“And you decided to sit on his lap to thank him?”, he mocked you and Yuta laughed.

“Calm down, dude. I didn’t make her do anything. Besides, it’s not the first time y/n found her way over here after some disappointing dick”

Jaehyun grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up from the bed, forcing him to stand and face him. You moved between the two, trying to stop the catastrophe that was about to happen. Jae might have more muscle power than Yuta, but if the whole frat ganged up on him he would have to leave this place in a stretcher.

“Jaehyun please, let’s just go. Baby, please”

The nickname was the only thing that brought him out of his rage and made him listen to you. He let go of Yuta and took your hand, dragging you out of the room.

You were two hallways down when you pulled away, forcing him to stop.

“Why did you have to get so mad?”

“Why the fuck did you go back to him?”

“I didn’t! It was just.. so hard for me to tell him no”

You felt your eyes water with how pathetic you sounded. Jaehyun rubbed his hands over his face, groaning in frustration.

“Don’t you understand how much it fucking hurts? To see you with that guy that treats you like shit when I’m right here, willing to give you everything? When I’m in love with you?”

You couldn’t process what he said because in a moment, his mouth was on yours. The kiss was so different than the one you shared at the hallway of your campus. It was passionate, it was rough, and this time, he monopolized your attention. His lips were determined to bruise into yours, leaving you breathless and causing your back to fall against a wall. It was crowded around you, eyes prying into your intimate moment but to you, the only person around was Jaehyun.

“You smell like him”, he growled, sucking on the tender spot under your ear, “makes me wanna fuck his scent off of you”

That was all you needed to hear. You led him to the frat’s guest room, knowing that Taeil always kept a spare key in the lamp next to the door. Unlocking the door seemed like a tour de force with Jaehyun leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck, but you finally managed to stumble inside. You locked the door behind you, continuing your heated kiss, hands roaming around each other’s body.

He was taller than you, so when you felt him grab your ass with such eagerness, you almost lifted off the ground. You palmed him through his jeans, the roughness of his hard on making your panties stick from wetness just a bit more.

“I want to taste you” you managed through kisses, but he just unzipped your skirt as a response, pulling it to the floor in one hasty move. Petting your clit through your underwear, a shiver ran down your spine, spreading goosebumps all over your arms and legs.

“I don’t think I have the patience for that”

He walked you backwards towards the guest bed, taking his pants and shirt off along the way. You sat on the edge of it and admired his godly proportions, when you took notice of the bruises and scratches that led to your fight on Saturday. Suddenly feeling the need to slow down, you started leaving kisses over each and every one of them. You wanted him to trust you, give in to you completely. He had his flaws just like he said, but you wanted all of him. And you wanted him now.

“I need you, now”, you voiced your thoughts and helped him take off his boxers, revealing his hard cock. He was thick and decently long, making your mouth water and your pussy clench.

Towering on top of you, he removed your panties that were embarrassingly damp at this point, and by his smirk, you knew he noticed.

Jaehyun bent your legs next to your torso, making you expose all of you. He licked his lips as he dove into your lower ones, muttering praises about your “pretty pussy”, turning you impossibly wet.

Jung Jaehyun never disappoints, you thought, because the moment you felt the first lap over your sensitive bud, you got a taste of heaven. He alternated between licking and sucking over the spot that turned you into putty against him. You were already unbearably turned on at this point, and the changing pace of his tongue made you lose your mind.

Your pants and moans only seemed to urge him on, and after a few minutes of his careful treatment you felt yourself getting close. He must have sensed it, because when you grabbed the bedpost in an effort to stop shaking, he stood on his knees, and reached for a condom in his wallet.

You didn’t have time to complain about the denial of your orgasm, and started taking Yuta’s shirt off, when he grabbed your hands and placed them back on their previous position on the headboard.

“Don’t”, he said sternly as he lined himself up your entrance, “I want to fuck you in his shirt”

There was no time to think about whether his request was healthy or not, because when you felt him stretch you out, the only thing on your mind was him and his dick.

You let out a deep moan and he took it as a sign to screw himself deeper inside you. Your pussy gushed uncontrollably, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. You unlaced your fingers and ran them down his back, ghosting them over the dimples that had affected you so much.

Jaehyun lowered himself, letting his chest touch yours, and you could feel his abs contracting over the fabric of Yuta’s shirt.

“I bet he’s never eaten you out like that, yeah?”

“N-no, never, ahh”

He sat up again, putting your legs over his shoulders and lifted your butt off the mattress, gripping your hips to steady himself before continuing his incredible pace.

“You’re mine, aren’t you baby? Mine to give you everything.”

The position felt divine. He was hitting it incredibly deep, reaching the spot that had you moaning so loud you were thankful for the unbearably loud music of the party. You were sure his fingers would leave a mark over your hipbones but you didn’t care, the pain only accentuating the warm feeling in your belly.

“J-Jae don’t stop - fuck don’t stop I’m gonna cum”

He leaned over, grabbing your face that was contorting in pleasure.

“Look at me when you cum for me”, he demanded, and when you rolled your eyes behind your head, letting go, he let out his first moan for the night.

He kissed your lips sweetly, helping you ride out your high.

“You’re so beautiful, my baby. So, so beautiful”, he praised and you submitted fully to him. He turned your body around, positioning you in all fours, and you wondered where the gentle boy you met at Johnny’s house went. His dick buried in you once again, spreading your juices around and the sensitivity of your previous orgasm made you aware of every single inch.

“So fucking tight”

Jaehyun didn’t go easy on you. He saw how much you liked it, how you were pushing your ass against his cock. He pounded in and out of you with the intention of fucking your thoughts out, and that’s just what he did. When the feeling got too much, and making any sort of noise seemed like a feat, you felt him push your hair back, and start biting on your neck, most definitely leaving a mark.

“I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna cum”, he muttered, his voice wavering and you felt him release in the condom inside you.

It took a while for the both of you to regain your breaths. Jaehyun’s chest was heaving up and down as you rest your head on top of it, not brave enough to break the silence.

“I’m sorry”, he finally said and started petting your hair lovingly.

“About what?”

The bed was foreign and small but you both stayed still, wanting to bask a little more in the peacefulness of the moment.

“About getting so possessive, and saying all these things out of jealousy. I acted just like him..”

You kissed his left peck, listening to his heart that was starting to beat in a faster pace.

“Jaehyun, you’re nothing like Yuta. I get how you felt, I feel the same way when I think about you with Naeun”

He took your hand that was resting on his abs and planted a kiss on your palm. Your heart did a flip and you were pressed so close together, he sure must have felt it.

“I should have told you about her sooner. About the fights and how I let her go because of you. I was in denial about my feelings for you because-“

He stopped mid sentence, wary of the way his words would come off to you. Jaehyun was a proud man, but he opened up his heart tonight, admitting he was in love with you. He had already exposed so much of himself that you gave him the time he needed to organize his thoughts.

“Because I was insecure. That you would never like someone like me. That Naeun was right. That you were only interested in playing pretend with me and didn’t mean any of the things you said, and I let myself get carried away in a lie”

You and Jaehyun were two lost souls, trying to break free from the constraints your insecurities built up for you. You didn’t have to succumb to your masochistic tendencies anymore, wasting your time in heartless lovers because now you found him and he found you. Both unable to see any value in themselves, but more that willing to treasure the other. And that was enough for you.

“I’d be honored to be loved by someone like you. Baby.”

#jaehyun smut #nct jaehyun #nct smut #jung jaehyun #yuta smut #jaehyun angst #yuta scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #nct scenarios #nct au #nct 127

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Black

Prompts: After POF, Roman takes over the abandoned color black. He becomes the hated side that Virgil used to be. By most, anyway. Janus and Virgil are concered. Patton chooses to ignore it. Romans room is really cold? and boy is he touch starved - anon

(Sanders sides Prompt) Any one of the sides is touch starved. fluff. (You dont have to do this just thought I might ask) - anon

Hello there!! I just wanna say that I love your work and I think you’re such a talented writer. Idk if this is a weird ask but would you consider writing Roman angst with the song “it’s OK I wouldn’t remember me either” by crywank as like inspiration? Thank you so much <3 -anon

buckel up babes this one's a doozy

Read on Ao3

Warnings: implied/reference self-harm by way of self-negligence, pretty intense self-hatred and neglect that could verge on suicidal, but NO ONE DIES, everyone's fine at the end, we don't break shit and not fix it in my house

Pairings: it is platonic found family hours

Word Count: 5697

Do you know what no one ever tells you about the color black?

It’s seamless.

There are no cracks, no tears, no imperfections, because everything’s so dark you can’t tell what’s a trick of the light and what isn’t. Everything blends together. At first, second, even third glance, it’s perfect. Pristine, even. It hides absolutely everything. It’s intimidating, honestly, that level of deception. The way it can make anything look like it’s meant to be there, as if to live the colorless and lightless life is all it was ever destined for.

Darkness has always found a way of feeling like home, even to the ones who are afraid of it.

You either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Roman hadn’t wanted to go to the wedding. He didn’t want to go, but it’s what Patton wanted. It’s what Thomas would’ve wanted. If Roman hadn’t been so loud. But it hurt, it did, when they said that they shouldn’t go to the callback because there was such a slim likelihood of Thomas winning. Because Roman couldn’t win. But Roman wasn’t supposed to be the villain and do something bad so he sent Thomas to the wedding.

Bruises were supposed to be yellow, or green, or purple, not black.

But if he had yellow, green, or purple bruises, he would’ve blamed a yellow, green, or purple Side. And that was bad.

So he hid them, because as he learned, no one was looking for them anyway. Patton cared when he didn’t show up to the video and then he was there and oh, having someone there, even if they only cared a little, was like rainfall in a desert, it was wonderful, Roman would’ve sung if he thought it wouldn’t make everything worse. But Roman was good, so he never complained, and he did his job to the best of his ability.

But what if his job was bad?

But there are two Creativities, a Roman and a Remus. And no one else liked Remus, because Remus was bad and Roman was good. But Remus isn’t bad, he’s just the opposite of Roman. And Roman didn’t want to be Remus because Remus was bad. But Remus isn’t bad.

Creativity isn’t bad.

Bruises aren’t supposed to be black but they can’t be red.

Roman isn’t supposed to be the villain but what else do you call someone who laughs at vulnerability, who scorns people’s earnest attempts to help, who single-handedly ruins someone’s life?

Roman isn’t supposed to be the villain, but bruises aren’t supposed to cover every inch of his skin unless he deserves it.

His skin burns. It crawls and aches and screams and darkens into bruises. His throat aches from the wordless screams and the horrible things he’s said to everyone. He’s been so selfish, he’s tried to make everything go his way, tried to make it about him, not about Thomas, because everything they do is supposed to help Thomas, help Thomas, that’s what they’re supposed to do, they’re supposed to help Thomas, not themselves, why is he doing this, why is he doing this?

Because he’s the villain.

Roman cries.

What else is he supposed to do?

He cries until the tears grow thick, sluggish, oozing out of his eyes until he can’t see anything but them, until his breath grows thick and his chest heavy. He cries until he has to struggle to open his eyes because of how swollen they are, how globulous the tears have become on the ends of his lashes. He cries until his head splits and his chest wails from the pain he isn’t supposed to have but deserves, deserves every little bit. He cries until his body is consumed by the bruises.

His costume is a straightjacket. He needs it off. The white hurts now, it burns his arms and cuffs his wrists. He doesn’t deserve it so he rips it off. Every seam that he ruins is another bruise. The rips are so loud they burrow into some soft part of his brain and live there. The white is still imperfect because it’s on him.

Only when his costume lies in tatters around him, his sash torn off and thrown away, far away, does the white look pure.

He cries himself to sleep with a smile on his face.

Far, far away, a black hoodie is tugged back into the Conscious Mindscape.

When Roman wakes, his head is full of static.

His lungs inflate and collapse on autopilot, driven by the merciless pump of some distant machine, turning the crank to draw air in and out, in and out.

His hands are numb, fingertips rubbed raw and inflamed from tearing relentlessly at fabric. He turns them slowly and it’s like watching himself in a video game.

His face is cold. He paws at his cheeks and feels sticky residue, etched into his skin. His eyes stick slightly when he blinks and he doesn’t know if that’s just his face or if there’s something else.

He is swathed in black fabric, an old threadbare hoodie that has gone years unloved, untouched, unseen. It’s selfishness that makes him tug it closer, feel a faint bubble of pressure on his screaming body.

He should get up, he should go make sure he hasn’t hurt anyone else with his tantrum again, he should apologize.

But…what would be the point?

Like Patton asked, does there come a point when someone keeps apologizing so much that you just have to admit they’re bad?

Roman isn’t good. Has he ever been?

Something interrupts the pleasant numbness and it shoots from his chest to the soft points at the base of his wrists, making his hands tingle. He decides he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want it. He wants everything to stop.

He’s selfish, they all know that, he’s just going to end up hurting them anyway, so why bother trying to fix it?

Apathy, his tired brain supplies when he lies there, unmoving, on the ground, for hours and hours and hours, unwilling and uncaring to fix things.

But that can’t be right. Roman is here because he cared too much, he did too much, he was too much. How can he now be the epitome of not caring at all?

If only he never cared, if only he wasn’t so attached, if only.

If only he had been Apathy, maybe he wouldn’t have been so hurt.

His pride got him here. His pride, his wants, his his his. He wanted everything and burned down the things that would’ve helped him get there because he couldn’t do it right. He is the villain and villains always have too much pride.

Pride. Apathy.

Prapathy.

Apride.

I’m not Creativity anymore, he thinks to himself as he lies there, still on the floor as his chest aches and his eyes sting and the sticky residue drips down his cheeks onto the bruises. He stares and stares and stares at the wall and a faint part of his mind that exists outside of the static realizes he never did get around to fixing that crack in the baseboard.

Pride, apathy. It doesn’t matter. There’s a much easier word that he can use to describe both of them.

Wrong.

—————————————————————

“I don’t know, Thomas,” Logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t think that’s a valid solution either.”

“But it makes sense,” Virgil protests, shoving his hands into his pockets, “all we have to do is not talk to anybody else—“

“But that will hurt their feelings!”

“But we won’t hurt ourselves.”

Janus and Patton look at each other for a moment before Patton sighs and scratches the back of his head.

“I—I don’t know, this…this feels weird.”

“None of us are happy about this, Padre,” Virgil mutters, “but it’s the best solution we’ve got.”

“Real high bar we’re setting there, isn’t it?”

“Listen, Snake Face, if you’ve got a better idea—“

“Virgil, enough.” Logan shakes his head. “We need to keep thinking.”

“We’ve been at this for an hour, Logan,” Thomas says cautiously, “I don’t know what else you think we’re gonna get to.”

“We’ve already passed the optimal point for productivity, yes.”

“Oh, well, we can’t just give up now!” Patton puts his hands on his hips. “I’m sure if we just keep at it for a little longer—“

“You said that half an hour ago, Patton.”

“And I’ll say it again!”

“Because that’s going to make everything go much easier.”

Thomas sighs as the Sides fall back into bickering. Normally, this wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary—pretty much all they do is argue back and forth—but Logan’s right. They’ve made almost no progress. He finds himself staring at the TV.

Why is he staring at the TV?

He frowns, tilting his head. It’s literally just his TV. Why is he so fixated on it right now? It’s not like it’s gone anywhere, it’s sitting right where it always is. He stares at it most of the day, why is it so weird that he’s looking at it now?

Wait—

“Guys,” he interrupts, still staring at the thing he’s not supposed to be able to see like this, “where’s Roman?”

The room pauses. Then Logan sighs.

“Oh, of course, that’s why we’ve been having such a hard time coming up with solutions, we don’t have Roman.”

At Virgil’s side-eye, he glances around to see similar looks of disbelief on the other’s faces.

“What?”

“Did you…did you just admit we need Roman?”

“He is Creativity, it makes sense that if we are struggling to be creative, he isn’t here.”

“Okay, that makes more sense.” Virgil shakes his head. “Thought you were admitting he was important or something.”

“Please, his head is big enough as it is.”

Janus hides a snort.

“Why didn’t he show up earlier,” Thomas asks, “he’s normally one of the first of you to get here.”

Virgil shrugs. “I dunno, I haven’t seen that much of him lately.”

“Is he…okay?”

“Who the hell knows, he’s Roman.”

“My guess is he’s been in his room,” Logan says, glancing at Roman’s usual spot, “I haven’t seen him either.”

Thomas doesn’t miss the way Janus and Patton glance at each other. “If you two have information now might be the time to share it.”

“Roman…hasn’t come out of his room,” Patton says after a beat, “not since…”

“Wait, he hasn’t come out since the wedding?”

Janus shakes his head. “I’ve barely seen him open his door.”

“That doesn’t…normally happen, does it?”

“No,” Patton says, “and, uh, he doesn’t normally ignore us either.”

“Ignore you?”

“We’ve tried knocking. It doesn’t work.”

“Perhaps Thomas can summon him,” Logan offers, “you have more power than any of us do, he’d have to answer you.”

“Well, here goes nothing. Creativity!”

Someone pops up in front of the TV.

Someone in a white costume with green embellishments and a mustache.

“Remus?”

Remus glares at them, his Morningstar at his side, his costume white, pristine, and light.

“What the fuck have you done with my brother?”

—————————————————————

It’s been weeks.

The fans have accepted Remus as Creativity. They think that the videos are better than ever. They think this was Thomas’s plan from the beginning.

There is one end card where the Sides are watching a movie and some of them spot a dark figure in the corner. Who could this be? Is this the mysterious orange Side everyone has been waiting for? Is this the Side that’s been hurting Thomas so much?

Zoom and enhance. It’s Virgil’s old hoodie. They’re sitting where Remus used to sit. They’re not staring at the screen, they’re looking at the others. What could this mean?

Someone spots the faint outline of a tiny crown perched atop the figure’s head.

And then, well, then it all makes sense.

There was always one Side that messed up everything, that made everything more complicated. There was always one Side that, if you thought about it, you could trace everything back to. There was always one Side that was told he was making the bad choice and yet, never seemed to learn.

They start to put together timelines, evidence, essay-length meta posts on how of course, this is the plan, why didn’t they see it before? Those that had disliked him from the start crow about how they were right, how everyone doubted them but look who’s laughing now. They point out how he’s become a Dark Side, maybe he was always a Dark Side, and how incredible would that storytelling be? To warn against the pressures of society’s expectations, the idea of good versus bad, or authentic versus forced. How of course, they’re wearing Virgil’s old hoodie because they’re the hated Side now. How they’re not looking at the screen because that’s not what they want, they want to be a part of the famILY.

Vitriolic rants. Accusations. Vent fics. The unsympathetic tag is overflowing.

Because who else could the villain be?

—————————————————————

Roman lives in the cold now.

His fireplace isn’t lit anymore. The door to the Imagination doesn’t work anymore. The blankets on his bed aren’t thick enough anymore. He drifts through a haze where only the emergency systems in his brain are online, where only the awareness needed to sleep, breathe, and move the little bits he needs to move are present.

He doesn’t know that there’s nothing behind the red door anymore, that when Janus and Virgil come to knock on it, worried, or when Remus storms through the Imagination and tries to knock it down by force, there’s nothing for them to find.

He doesn’t know that a new door, a black door, leads from his room to the hallway, far away from any of the other rooms. He doesn’t know that it’s so dark back here that no one would be able to tell there was a door if they didn’t put their nose right up against it.

He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care.

A new kind of ache settles in his bones now. Pain is an old friend, but he’s yet to give suffering a proper handshake.

He misses when he could go and ask someone for help.

He misses when Patton would turn to him without any judgment in his eyes, without any ‘well, you know, kiddo—‘, without any ‘let’s start off with—‘, just the soft words of I’m here, I’ll help you. He misses being able to walk up to Patton’s door and knock on it and know that he would be safe on the other side.

Patton would open the door and soften, his mouth curling up into a small smile as he says hey, kiddo, come in. He would sit Roman down on the bed and press a glass of water into his hands. He would rub his back as he drank, taking the empty glass gently and cupping Roman’s face in his hands. He would ask what’s wrong, sweetheart, what can I do? And Roman would say he just wants a hug, he just wants to not be alone for a bit. And Patton would smile and coo about how Roman was always welcome here, sweetheart, I’m right here, I’ll take care of you. And Roman could fall asleep with his head on Patton’s chest and believe that everything was okay.

He misses when he could walk up to Logan and ask for help and he wouldn’t be scoffed at or turned away, he wouldn’t be looked at suspiciously and asked what he really wanted. He misses when Logan could come to him too and just spend time together.

Logan would knock on his door and ask if you have a moment, would you like to walk with me? And Roman would smile and say, of course, he always has time for Logan, and they could go somewhere in the Imagination and just talk. And Logan would say that’s an interesting idea, I wonder if—and they would walk and talk for hours. And Roman could bustle up to Logan’s door and say I’ve just thought of something, and Logan would open his door and be happy to talk with Roman and it would be okay.

Roman curls up tighter and feels nothing.

He wishes he could have something to miss for Virgil. He wishes they could have bonded over their love of Disney, their want to talk about the things they’re interested in, or even the need to just have someone else in the room with them for a bit. He wishes their relationship wasn’t just spitting barbs at each other, each hoping to hit the bullseye first and knock the other one out of the race. He wishes he could’ve done better.

He wishes he could have something to miss for Janus. He wishes they could’ve done this right, that they could’ve bonded over the want to keep Thomas safe but also have him be himself. He wishes that he hadn’t laughed, hadn’t scorned, hadn’t fallen back on his pride to keep himself safe at the expense of Thomas. He wishes that maybe, just maybe, if he had been a better puppet, then he wouldn’t have been dropped so suddenly.

But as it stands now, more than anything he wishes he could hear them when they say the things they say about him because then he could figure out which bruises were theirs and take comfort in knowing that they still touch him in some way.

The bruises are a constant now. From the online hate to the casual remarks from the others to the way that Patton hasn’t even tried to come find him anymore—he can hear that, you know—he can’t turn over without landing on a new smattering of bruises. The hoodie helps to cushion the blow a little bit.

He misses Remus.

Remus was…

…Remus was everything.

Roman misses his other half. Roman misses his brother. Roman misses his Creativity.

When they were small they would curl around each other as if they could fuse if they focused hard enough. They would wrap their arms around each other so tightly that it would be a pleasant ache when they woke, never minding because they were tighter. Remus was always so warm and Roman hoarded every single bit he could get.

Roman was cruel to push his brother away and now he understands how it feels.

He misses Thomas.

He misses when he was allowed to go and see Thomas. When he could talk to Thomas. When his presence was celebrated or at the very least, tolerated. He misses it. He misses helping.

But he’s helping now, by staying away.

He’s cold.

He’s so cold.

—————————————————————

do you remember what it felt like

to be touched?

press of fingertips against shoulders

bump of a forehead against yours

palms meeting and parting a mere second later

in days gone by

do you remember

warm?

humans thrive off physical contact,

we’re not built to hold each other

at arms’ length.

infants will die

if they aren’t held enough.

and I am so

cold

—————————————————————

Something is wrong and even Patton can’t ignore it anymore.

The Sides shuffle uneasily in front of the red door until Remus raises his hand to knock against it.

“Roman?”

Silence.

“Roman, please, please, just—just say something.”

Silence.

“Where the fuck are you, Roman?”

“Don’t yell,” Logan mumbles, “you’ll make him think we’re angry at him.”

Remus takes a deep breath.

“We’re not angry, Ro-bro, we’re just—just please make some noise.”

Silence.

“…we’re coming in, Roman.”

But they can’t. Because as Remus turns the knob on the door, it falls forward. The entire door comes off just to reveal—

A blank wall. With no sign that there was ever a room behind it.

Thomas can hear the scream.

—————————————————————

Roman hears the scream and can’t move. But he can close his eyes and reach out and see what’s going on. After all, he hasn’t done anything, so something must be wrong if someone else is screaming.

He feels something in his chest twist and snap.

“Re?”

Across the Mindscape, Remus’s head jerks up.

“Ro,” he breathes, getting to his feet and rushing off down the hall as the others hurry after him, “Ro!”

“Remus, what’s going on?”

“Why isn’t Roman’s room there anymore?”

“Where are you going?”

They barrel into the hallway and smack into a black door. Logan’s eyes widen as he realizes what’s happened.

“Roman’s become a Dark Side,” he says, fingers scrabbling where the door meets the wall, “he’s—he’s really hurt, we have to help—“

“Move, L, I’m gonna break the door down.”

“You’re not gonna do it without me.”

“Roman!”

Roman turns his head to look at the door. Are they…here? The hoodie rasps against his undead skin and he winces. There are still bruises.

“Roman!”

The door shudders its frame. He could open it. He could. He just has to reach out and—

“Ro!”

Remus.

The door unlatches and his brother pours into the room, letting out a wail when he spots Roman in the bed.

Janus hisses as soon as he crosses the threshold, this room is freezing. It feels as if no one’s moved for years inside, as if the heat has been sucked out entirely. His gaze flies to Remus, who’s over on the bed, his hands scrabbling at something in black material.

Roman.

“Oh, little prince,” he whispers, horrified, “no, no, no—“

“We have to get him out,” Logan orders, startling Remus into action as he scoops Roman into his arms, “we have to get him warm. His core temperature is too low.”

“Shower? Bath?”

“No, if we shock his system we could make it worse. Janus, I need your heating pads, Patton, something warm to drink.”

Janus and Patton vanish.

“Virgil, weighted blankets, Remus—“

“I’m here.” As Virgil ducks away as well, Remus helps Logan cradle the limp and freezing form of his brother in their arms as they begin to rush out of that horrible, horrible room. “You thinking bathroom?”

“Get him to Janus’s, that’ll be the safest place.”

“Got it.”

Sure enough, Janus has no objection and sweeps them inside, setting down the heating pads as Patton bustles in with two thermos flasks and a mug. Virgil pops back with thick blankets as they lay the cold form on the ground. Roman’s eyes blink sluggishly as he stares up at Remus.

“...Re?”

“Yeah, Roro, it’s me, I’m right here, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here faster.”

“What’s…wha’s going on?”

“You’re too cold, Roman,” Logan says gently, “we need to get you warmed up.”

“Oh…”

“It will be easier if we take a few of the layers off,” he explains, still careful to keep his voice low and even as the others scurry around, “is that alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to unzip the hoodie.” Logan works slowly, patiently, stopping when any flicker crosses Roman’s face. “That’s it, you’re doing very well, I’m almost done.”

By the time he’s coaxed the hoodie off of Roman’s shoulders, there’s a little bit of color back in his cheeks.

“Very good, Roman, you did well. Virgil’s brought a few warm blankets and Janus has heating pads for you, do you think you can sit up?”

“Don’t know.”

“That’s alright, you’re doing alright.” Logan glances up at Janus.

“Little prince,” Janus murmurs, sitting by Roman’s head, “if you can sit up, I can sit behind you and help warm you up, does that sound alright?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, sweetie, we’re going to sit you up now.”

Logan and Janus sit Roman up slowly, only to pause when the long sleeves of his shirt fall down.

“Roman,” Logan asks, trying frantically to keep his voice calm, “are you hurt?”

“Mhm.”

He bites back the fearful response and patiently asks where, how bad, can he see?

“Everywhere.” Roman lifts his arms weakly. “’S all bruises.”

“…can we see?”

“Okay.”

Logan’s hands begin to tremble as he works the shirt over Roman’s head. He wasn’t kidding when he said everywhere.

There’s barely an inch of skin that doesn’t look bruised black and blue. Patton stifles a cry as he drops to his knees next to them, looking at Roman like he’s never seen it this bad before.

Oh, Roman, how did they not know? How could he just ignore him like that?

“Get him covered,” comes Virgil’s voice, “he’s still too cold.”

Janus grabs one of the blankets and wraps it carefully around Roman’s form. It should help distribute whatever pressure they apply so it won’t aggravate his injuries too severely. He takes one heating pad and scoots forward, bracketing Roman’s legs with his own and wrapping one pair of arms around him to press the pad to his chest.

“Can you feel that, sweetie,” he asks softly, “is that too warm?”

“No.”

“Good, good, little prince, you’re being very brave.” He turns away to reach for another and so misses the little shudder that goes through Roman. “Do you think you can handle another if I press it to the back of your neck?”

“Mm.”

“Let’s try, little prince, and if it’s too much, I’ll stop.”

“Okay.”

“Here we go, sweetie—“ Janus presses it carefully to the base of Roman’s skull, just at the edge of the blanket— “there, does that feel okay?”

“Mm.”

“Good, sweetie, you’re doing so well, so good for us, that’s it, you relax now.”

Roman starts to tremble.

“That’s alright,” Logan soothes, “you’re warming up, it means you’re going to shiver a little more, you’re alright, Roman, you’re safe. You’re doing well.”

It certainly doesn’t seem that way once Roman’s breath starts to come in gasps. Virgil nudges Patton out of the way and sits, gently calling Roman’s name until his gaze snaps to Virgil’s.

“Hey, Princey,” Virgil says slowly, “you gotta stay with me now, okay? We’re right here, no one’s angry, nothing’s going to hurt you. Just focus on me.”

He ignores the startled noises when Roman starts to cry thick, black tears.

“Eyes on me, Princey, that’s it, stay here. We’re just gonna sit here and breathe for a moment, okay?” Roman nods and Virgil starts to take big, exaggerated breaths. “Good. That’s it, Princey, you focus on me and you breathe. It’s okay. You’re doing great. Just stay here.”

When the viscous black liquid slows, Virgil reaches out and begins to tuck Roman’s hair back. A moment longer and he pauses, noting how the scratch on Roman’s face is covered in the thick black tears.

“Princey, can I clean your face off for you? You’re doing really well at breathing, I’m proud of you. Can I help you with the rest of it?”

“O-okay.”

There’s a bottle of micellar water and a pack of cotton circles pressed into his hands. He moves in slow, careful strokes, changing out the circles as often as he needs to. A pile of them grows beside him as he works, doing his best to get all the black off of Roman’s face. Roman just cries.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Patton murmurs when Roman’s cry gives way to a wail, “it’s okay, you cry all you need to, we’re not going anywhere, it’ll be alright.”

“We have you, sweetie,” Janus says against Roman’s neck, “we’re here.”

Remus lets out a broken noise.

“Oh, Roman, you didn’t…”

Logan’s head whips sharply around to scold Remus only for his mouth to fall open in shock.

Remus’s costume is bleeding too. The same black that drips down Roman’s face is slowly coloring Remus’s costume again, back to what it normally looks like. Remus’s mouth is agape, staring horrified at Roman.

“Oh, Ro—“

“What’s going on?”

“Check the bruises on his neck,” Remus orders as Janus pulls back the blanket, “are they still there?”

“They’re here, but they’re…lighter, how is that—?”

“Roman is the Ego,” Patton mumbles, “he gets bruised when—when—“

“Oh, shit,” Virgil curses, before quickly hushing Roman’s discontented mumble, “and with all the hate that’s been gunning for him—“

“Oh, sweetheart—“

Roman lets out another sob and the tears run clear.

“The Ego is kept healthy by positive attention,” Logan says softly, scooting closer and rubbing Roman’s shoulder through the blanket, “you’ve been starving, haven’t you?”

“He’s not cold because he’s hypothermic,” Remus blusters, “he’s touch starved.”

“It’s still not safe to introduce him to direct contact all at once,” Logan warns when Patton and Remus look like they want to rip the blanket off, “we have to take it slow.”

“So what do we do?”

Janus just leans down and presses a kiss to Roman’s temple. “You’re so brave, sweetie, you’ve been so strong.”

They watch as Roman’s tears begin to wash away the black.

“We love you, sweetheart, you’re so important to us.”

“Stay with us, Princey, we need you.”

“You’re doing very well, Roman, we’re very proud of you.”

Roman cries, ducking his head into Virgil’s waiting hands as Remus’s costume colors itself black again.

After a long while, when Remus looks like he normally does, Roman shakes his head and looks up at them.

“Where am I,” and he sounds like Roman again, “what’s happened?”

“You were starving, sweetheart,” Patton mumbles, “and we didn’t notice until it was too late.”

“O-oh,” Roman blinks, “is that…is that why I’m so cold?”

“You’re touch starved too,” Virgil adds, “and we, uh, L said it wasn’t a good idea to try and shock you out of it.”

“Try and drink something,” Logan says quickly as Patton reaches for the mug, “you’ve been crying for a while and you’re dehydrated.”

“Is that…hot chocolate?”

“Your favorite, kiddo.”

Remus sits down at Roman’s side as he drinks, staring at him like he’s not seen him in ages. Which, well, none of them have, really.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Roman repeats, looking sheepishly at all of them, “I, uh, well, the last video I messed up a lot. I, uh, I shouldn’t have laughed at your name, Jan—where are you?”

“Right here,” Janus mumbles, giving him a gentle squeeze, “and you’re forgiven.”

“Oh. Uh, that was easy…are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Yes, it wasn’t great of you to do, but I’m not exactly blameless either and…”

He squeezes him again.

“…you’ve been hurting enough.”

“Logan, you too, I—I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Roman, but I agree. It’s alright.”

“Why are you all forgiving me so fast?”

“Because,” Remus mumbles, cupping Roman’s head and resting their foreheads together, “this happened.”

They all watch as Roman shudders as Remus shows him what happened.

“Oh—oh—I—oh no—“

“It’s over now, sweetie,” Janus reassures, “we’ve got you. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

“C-can I have a hug?”

“Of course, honey, come here—“

“Let’s get the blanket out of the way, L, is he—“

“It should be safe now, yes.”

“Remus, I—oof!”

“I gotcha, Ro-Bro.”

“It’s still—I’m still—“

“Patton, grab that end of the blanket.”

“This one?”

“That’s it, yes.”

The Sides end up swaddled in the blanket, their heads poking out, as each of them pulls a little bit of Roman into their arms to warm up. Janus and Remus wrap around his upper body, mindful of the few bruises that haven’t been healed yet. His legs are in Patton’s lap, as Logan and Virgil each hold on to his hands. The poor thing is still shivering, still shaking, still a little overwhelmed.

But Janus coos into his ear as his head lolls back, Remus holding him tightly. Logan’s thumb strokes over his palm as Virgil lets him squeeze as tight as he needs to. Patton makes sure he’s off the cold tile and he’s warm.

They’re going to have to work out what to do about the fans, about the videos, but right now they need to worry about Roman.

Speaking of Roman—

“I—I need to apologize to Thomas.”

A cry goes up as he says so, Patton reaching up to pat his knee. “You don’t have to do that right now, sweetheart, rest, it’s okay—“

“I won’t—he won’t be able to rest until he knows what’s happened.”

As if he can hear them, they feel the familiar tug of one of them being summoned. A quick glance around shows that if one of them is going, all of them are, so they appear on the floor of the living room, swaddled in the blanket.

Thomas’s mouth drops open and he rushes to their side.

“I was gonna ask if you found Roman, but I—Roman, buddy, are you okay?”

“I…I don’t know,” Roman mumbles, “but I’m sorry.”

“For what, buddy?”

As Roman begins to apologize, for being away, for hurting Thomas, for being selfish, Thomas just shakes his head.

“No, buddy, that’s not all on you. You—yeah, okay, some things happened, but it’s not entirely your fault. You don’t need to think of it like that.”

“Well said,” Logan mutters, “now help us get Roman to rest.”

“So what Disney movie are we watching and how many pillows do we need?”

A lot, as it turns out, is the answer. And they have to bite back laughs at the way Thomas makes a noise when he’s swept into the blanket too. But Thomas is warm and Roman is still cold and the movie plays on the screen.

“Hey, Roman?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my hero.”

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deleteddewewted · 3 years

Note

Hello! How are you, and I have a request if you wish to do it. So I was thinking of a College AU with Shinsou working there as a part-time employee, then one day fem! reader comes in and at first he is like “Pfft whatever” but then he brings dropping his tsunade behavior and beings growing soft for her while he got to know her and he has seen her rescue a kitten in which he asked to help co-parent their child. He is doing it to get to know her more because he fell for her, but she is a bit oblivious when it comes to ✨feelings✨. I thought this would make a cute HC/ Drabble, however you wish to do it, of how their relationship began to bloom at the local coffee shop.

AAAAHHHH!!!! YES!

Happy Birthday to Shinsou Hitoshi!💜

The most adorable, handsome, and overall best purple headed boy on the show (Fuck off Mineta).

To Take Care of a Stray: Shinsou Headcanons

Barista! Shinsou x F! Reader

FLUFF

As any college student would tell you, cheap caffeinated drinks were a must.

Coffee specifically was a must.

Shinsou was honestly debating if he needed his 3rd cup of coffee that morning or if he could just wing it and go on with an empty tank.

He procrastinated when it came to his assigned project, plus his project partner ditched him, so he was practically all alone figuring his shit out.

And thats how he found himself working at his local coffee shop.

He hated every single customer that would come in at any hour of the day that he work on.

They all demanded his attention and honestly, some days he wished he could just scream in their faces that "No, i don't give a fuck about your pet bird speaking back to you. I'm only here to make you your coffee and take your money."

The cheap coffee was worth it though, so he keeps the complaining to a minimum.

Retail is honestly a "no reward" type of job. The amount of entitlement that some people have baffles him at times.

Around his second year in college he ends up working the late shift to make some extra cash. It also meant less people coming in and demanding an overly complicated drink. Score!

The sound of the rain pouring down helped calm his nerves and allowed him to relax for moment before the door of the shop swung open.

"Oops, sorry. Didn't mean to do that." The first time you walked into the shop you accidentally pulled the door with too much force that it ended up slamming into the wall.

Shinsou immediately didn't like you.

Who the fuck was this woman?

You went up the counter and told him your order taking out your money and handing it to him.

Clean and simple. Nothing special.

Then you came back again a few days later. That really fucked with him.

Most customers came in and never bothered to talk to him. He wanted their money while they wanted the shitty coffee they sold. Easy, right?

Nope, not with you apparently. You came in and asked about his day, how his studies were going, and if anything interesting happened in the shop.

He would respond with brief answers and immediately ignored you afterwards.

You were just so annoying.

..Ok, maybe not.

You were funny, the way you fumbled and played it off as you being intentional.

The way your mouth would widen into a smile anytime he spoke back to you.

You weren't overly energetic, nor overly happy. You were just nice, nice to him.

He wasn't use to that.

You fascinated him just because you existed and he wanted to learn more about you.

He got his chance on the 5th time you came in.

You usually came in at a specific time, always when there was barely any customers, but today you didnt' show up at all.

He wont admit it but he got concerned and would keep looking at the clock on the wall and back to the door of the coffee shop.

When you finally came in, you had scratches on your hand and on your cheek.

"What the fuck happened to you?" He leaned onto his hand that was placed on the counter top. His body relaxed and only showed boredom.

In reality he was terrified, you had scratches on your hands and red streaks too. Why?

"Oh, i was just- i fell into a bush." You gave him a smile that made his heart flutter and legs go weak.

He was so happy he was leaning on the counter because he hadn't he would have fallen onto the floor.

Your smile just had that affect on him.

"How stupid can you be? Look were your going next time."

"Aww, thanks sir!"

Good mood was gone. He told you not to treat him like your friend, thats not what you both are.

...But he really hated that you took that very literally and didn't bother to at least call him by his last name.

"Hmm." He gave you your usual and answered the questions you had for him that day.

You started to come in 4 times a week and every time you did he would notice new scratches on you.

The scratches weren't that bad, he thought maybe you were one those "adventures" types, but the red marks were concerning him.

When he would ask you about them you always had a different excuse for them.

"My backpacks straps are bit rough."

"I placed my arm wrong on the table"

It was this or that but never a concrete answer.

It was happening every time you came in so something had to be wrong.

He gathered up the little cuarage he had and decided to ask you what you were doing.

"Why do have so many scratches on you?" You werent expecting him to be so blunt but you happily told him to meet you after his shift at the nearby alleyway.

He was suspicious of you but he was also curious, he desperately needed answers because the concern for your wellbeing was getting to be too much for him.

He followed your instructions and walked towards the alleyway you directed him to.

When he turned the corner he saw the most beautiful scene in the world.

You were surrounded by cats...and you were giving them food.

He could die happily then and there.

"W- this is why you show us with scratches all over you!?" You nodded but got up and walked over to a cardboard box that was tucked under a bigger box.

You told him to follow and when he crouched down to see what was in it he saw two huge eyes staring back at him.

"You've been- this little thing is the reason for your scratches?"

"Yep!"

He laughed at you and helped you feed all of the cats.

When the two of you finished up, you picked up the box that the small kitten was tucked in and gave it a pat on the head.

"What are you going to do with the kitten?" Shinsou asked you.

"Well, i wish i could take it with me but i don't think i'd be able to take care of it since i work early in the morning and have classes late at night."

Shinsou's mind started planning.

He really liked you and wanted to be around you more often.

Shit, if he was brutally honest he had a crush on you.

"Well, i have classes early morning while i work at night. So...why don't we co-pa-... i mean co-care for the little guy?" He knows his ears were red, he knows his face was starting to turn red as well.

But he wasn't about to admit that he really wanted you to say "yes".

"Uh, ok. Sure!"

Shinsou was over the moon with this and it was all going so perfectly as well.

The kitten would spend the mornings with you and in the afternoons the two of you would meet up to take care of it together.

You both decided to name the kitten Mieko.

""Beautiful blessing child", thats a cute name! Why do you want to call him that?"

"Because...i want to- y-you idiot. Stop asking so many questions!" You just laughed at him and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

Shinsou melts.

Shinsou would bring the kitten with him to work since his boss had a soft spot for animals.

Imagine how exited he was when you first invited him into your own apartment.

"You have your own place? Color me impressed."

"Thanks Shin." Shinsou blushed a little at the nickname. It had been over a month that you both agreed to take care of the kitten together.

The more time he spent with you the more he fell.

"I hope you like the umm...book." This was another thing that started after the two of you began to co-parent the kitten. He would bring you gifts and act like it meant nothing.

Reality is that he was courting you.

He expected you to make a comment on his gifts but you glossed over them like nothing.

It was getting on his nerves.

"Aah, hey. Do you want to take Mieko out for a walk...again."

"Was that a question or a demand?" You laughed at him

You made it look easy with how much you make him blush.

The more time you both spent with each other, the more Shinsou realized he was truly in love with you and wanted you to be by his side.

But he was facing a problem. You.

You wouldn't pick up on the hints he was dropping on you. His interest on you.

So one day he decides to just tell up upfront if you would like to go on a date with him.

"Hey Shin, do you want to go on a date with me?"

Shinsou. exe has stopped operations

"W-wha-"

"I'm joking buddy! But seriously do you want to go out to eat? I think Mieko would-"

"W-WHaT!? F-fuck no!" That upset you because you thought he might like free lunch.

"You could've just said no." He was losing you, again.

Fuuuuuuuck!!!!!

"N-no wait! What i wanted to say was umm, would you like to go out with me? Like a date! N-not like friends."

You both just stared at each other for a moment, the silence only making the situation worse.

"...Sure."

Mieko, your child, just blinked at the two of you.

"These two ridiculous humans are my parents, great." At least this lead to Shinsou moving in with you and Mieko having a permanent home now.

Double the pats for the two new people in your home, double the purring sounds, double the angry and grouchy cats begging for your attention.

Who wold trade this? You got to cuddle with the two most adorable people in this world.

"I'm not fucking adorable Y/n!"

"Shush Toshi or you're not getting cuddles and kisses."

"....fine."

#shinsou x y/n #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinsou x female reader #bnha shinso x reader #mha shinso x reader #shinso x you #shinsou hcs #mha shinsou #bnha shinsou #mha shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #mha #bnha #mha headcanons #asks

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princehrry-writings · 3 years

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Y/n's a witch and Harry's her soulmate

I'VE LITERALLY BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR 2 MONTHS!!!

lanfvksbkvjbs I hope you guys like it because I poured my whole soul into this!!!! I wanted it to be over 10k but I felt like I was just dragging it on and the ending isn't great but it's ok.

I switch between present and past tense without meaning too- oops :)

wordcount: 9911

warnings: uhhh, swearing, google translated latin :) catcalling and unwanted male attention (with a bad witch moment... see what i did there😏), a little bit of violence, very lightly edited lmao

She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Was this another witch? No, she would have felt that energy differently. So he had to be a mortal. But why did it feel like she had just been set on fire in the best way possible.

“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”

Harry.

What a magical name, she thought.

Harry walks into Y/n’s shop one day, sees the brooms sweeping by themselves and gets a little curious.

“Althea, get your claws out of there. You’re gonna get hair in the muffins!” Y/n shrieked, quickly shooing the troublesome feline away from the open bowl of batter sat atop the counter. The cat just meowed at her, unbothered by her person's shrieking. Thea was quite the diva. She couldn’t give a flying fuck even if she tried.

“Oh Stars, look what you’ve done!” Y/n continued, cleaning up the trail of paw prints left in the flour on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of the kitchen when I’m baking Thea! Why don’t you ever listen!”

Y/n has been a little strung up lately. That’s probably the understatement of the century. Maybe if she hadn’t been put in charge of the shop for the first time by herself while her mother went to gather supplies and place orders for said shop, she wouldn’t be so stressed. She’s only 22 years into her eternal lifetime. She’s yet to learn the virtue of patience, her mind never ceasing to run with ideas and thoughts and feelings.

Her mother always griped about how she needed to take a deep breath and let go of the tension in her shoulders because now that she had stopped ageing- she had all the time in the world (literally) to do everything she was worried about. Y/n would argue that she’s not worried so much as eager. She’s just very excitable.

“Why do I even bother yelling at you anymore.” Y/n grumbled, flicking her wrist in the direction of the broom closet. The broom and dustpan came floating out and got to work sweeping up the bits of flower seeds and petals that had dropped off the table instead of into the mortar like she had planned.

Y/n’s never been known for her cleanliness.

Out of the blue, the hair on the back of her neck and arms stood at full attention, a warm shiver shooting down her spine. What the hell? She thought to herself. Thea didn’t seem bothered by whatever energy was coming closer so she knew it wasn’t any danger, but it was something. Y/n flicked her wrist once more, quickly sending the broom away and going to hide behind a wall where whoever this was couldn’t see her.

The little bells above the door chimed, alerting anyone inside that someone had just arrived. In walked, who Y/n thought to be, the most beautiful boy she thinks she’s ever seen. Chestnut curls shielded by a knit beanie, sea glass eyes, broad shoulders, a kind smile on his face. He looked as ethereal as she was.

She felt the earth shift under her feet, her heart speeding up slightly in his presence. He was magnificent, she thought. The shiver she felt was steadfast and unchanging, finding a home in the goosebumps covering her whole body. She had never felt like this before.

The witch watched from behind the wall as the man gazed about the shop, his hands rested behind his back. In a pair of black jeans with a rip in the knee and a white tee shirt with a cardigan thrown over it, he shuffled about.

Y/n took a deep breath, collecting herself before making her presence known. She walked out from behind the wall, stepping behind the main checkout counter and clearing her throat lightly.

“Welcome in! I’m Y/n, let me know if you need any help!” She said, trying not to cringe at how scripted that sounded.

His head popped up, eyes connecting with hers and that’s when they both felt the energy in the room grow. Thea came sauntering out of the kitchen area in the back, Y/n made a mental note to check the muffin batter for cat hair later, no doubt at the electrical charge of the room.

“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”

Harry.

What a magical name, she thought.

There was a pause, where neither of them wanted to move, in fear of this moment passing and never getting to feel like this ever again.

It felt like having a picnic on a warm summer day, where it’s not too hot but just right. It felt like the first breath of fresh Spring air, like hearing a baby giggle. She felt fuzzy and warm. Like she was wrapped in a hug. Y/n felt… peaceful. She felt all of her anxiety about the shop melt away, as if it had never been there.

Harry smiled at her, a pink tinge coating his skin, and pulled his eyes away (he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by staring), continuing on with his peruse of the shop. He had no idea why he was here, truly. Didn’t realize where he was until he pushed through the door. He doesn’t even know what any of this stuff is, he’s just looking so it seems like he knows what he’s doing.

He felt something brush his ankle, looking down and seeing a fluffy snow white cat with striking green eyes (just like his!), and cooed at her.

“Is it alright if I pet her?” He asked, looking back up at Y/n. He would take any chance he got to look at her. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. With her shiny hair and kind eyes, a smile that made you want to hug her. She looked so welcoming. He felt… oddly peaceful.

“Yeah of course! She’s my little attention whore, aren’t you Thea?” Y/n giggled and Harry thought his heart would stop right there. Her little giggle was the most glorious sound he’d ever heard, he decided.

She got up from her little stool behind the counter and floated over to him, using her cat as an excuse to get closer. She just couldn’t figure out why she had such a pull to him. It didn’t make sense to her. Maybe he was a witch and was just masking his energy really well, maybe he was some sort of other creature, or maybe… no, that can’t be it.

Well…

Maybe… he’s her Flame. Her Twin Flame… Her Soulmate.

No. There’s no way. It’s so rare for witches to find their flames. And especially at such a young age. Y/n’s parents didn’t find each other for almost 75 years, and here she is at just 22, stumbling upon some magical happenstance where her Flame just saunters into her family’s shop.

Harry scratched behind Thea’s ear, a motor-like pur erupting from her little belly. She nuzzled into his touch, and then sprung up onto his shoulder from the table, startling the man. Y/n giggled at the look on his face, reaching up to scratch just above Thea’s tail, her favorite spot.

“She does that when she likes someone.” Y/n explained. A blush appeared on his face at this.

She likes him.

“So was there anything in particular you were looking for?” Y/n continued, hoping to make more conversation with him. Her fingers are buzzing, wanting to reach out and hold his hand or touch his arm, anyway she can get her hands on him really, but she knows that would be inappropriate so she refrains (however difficult it may be).

Harry was in the same boat. He felt the need to wrap her up in his embrace and never let her go. It was the strangest thing he thinks he’s ever felt.

“Honestly, no. I don’t really know what any of this stuff is… I didn’t even realize when I walked in but I didn’t want to look like a psycho just walking in and out of shops randomly.” A shy smile displays on his features.

Y/n chuckled. This furthers her hunch that he is, in fact, her Flame. Getting a random urge to come in here could only mean that the invisible string tying them together was leading him to her. Pulling them closer and closer everyday until this very moment, when they were fated to meet. Written in the stars to know each other, whether that be for love or friendship only time would tell.

She really hopes it’s love.

“Ok… We’re kind of just a general shop. We carry crystals, herbs, spices, oils, candles, and my mother does a lot of crafts, so we sell those here too.” Y/n went on to explain, Harry’s eyes flitted around to all the things she mentioned. He saw glittering crystals, by themselves but also made into jewelry like rings and necklaces, he saw bundles of different flowers and vials of liquids he assumed were the oils she mentioned.

“What is all this stuff for?” He questioned. He had never heard of anyone suddenly needing Oxeye Daisies or black onyx crystals, but he’d never been one to judge.

Y/n paused, thinking of the best way to explain everything. Practising “witchcraft” wasn’t an unusual topic to humans, but they didn’t know that witches with magic that was (semi-inaccurately) portrayed in movies and tv shows actually existed.

“Uhm, anything in the shop can be used for a number of things. Apothecary, gardening, herbal remedies, manifestation.” She explained. He nodded along with her words, doing his best to focus on what she was saying rather than just her. His body was tingling the closer she stood. He never wanted this feeling to go away.

Whatever this feeling was.

Harry looked around, his sights landing on a shelf full of colorful candles. His eyes lit up, trotting over to them, picking up one that was a light lavender color. He didn’t know he was drawn to this one in particular, but something had pulled him to grab it. Something was telling him to buy it, bring it home, and burn it on his bedside table, right next to his head every night.

It was Y/n’s favorite color.

The girl's cheeks burnt when she realized this was the one he had picked out. The occurrence might seem random to anyone passing by, anyone who didn’t know two halves of a soul had just been reunited with one another after being apart for however many years. But Y/n knew, and hopefully Harry would know soon.

She didn’t want to scare him though. He would think she was crazy. Imagine a random stranger that you’ve never seen before in your entire life tells you that you’re meant to spend the rest of your life together. He would run away screaming.

So she has to start slow.

“Think I might get a few candles…” Harry trails off, looking around at all the different shapes and sizes of colored wax sitting before him. Y/n smiles at this and nods, letting him know she’ll be at the counter if he needs anything.

Please need something, she hopes to herself.

He didn’t end up needing anything, but he ended up purchasing 3 candles, all of them being that same lavender color.

* .

. * .

It was a few weeks later when Y/n felt a familiar tingle run down her spine. Harry must be near, she thought.

She had spent the last fortnight and then some moping about the shop and her flat, hoping her Flame would turn up again. Her mother, Asteria, had been ecstatic when she heard that her daughter had found her Flame, and empathised with her pain, understanding that he was a mortal and it was difficult to form bonds with them quickly. The woman always found it interesting how the most indefinite creatures took the longest to form their bonds. But then she remembered they had no knowledge of Twin Souls and often settled for one not fated to them.

“Mama, he’s close. I can feel him!” Y/n cried, tidying her appearance in the reflection of the window. She hopes to the Stars that he’s coming to see her and not just passing through.

Waving away the brooms fluttering around the shop, she busies herself restocking shelves. Asteria had just finished a new batch of candles that needed shelving. The mother had been trying new recipes lately and was excited to see how they would fare.

Y/n almost misses the little chime of the bells signaling that someone has just entered. If it weren’t for the energy in the room skyrocketing and all the hair in her body standing at attention, she wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Turning, her gaze falls upon a familiar set of sea glass eyes and chestnut curls that have enchanted her mind every passing second since the first time they met. She tried her damndest to hide her grin, but had to turn away so he wouldn’t be able to see it.

Harry looked around the shop before his gaze fell upon the girl he hadn’t stopped dreaming about since he last was here. There she stood, back turned to him, with her shiny hair and adorable outfit. In a lavender colored sundress, hair pulled back by a white scarf, she fussed about the candle shelf that Harry had searched the last time he came.

Everytime he burned that candle, he thought of the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the different items in the shop and how she smiled at him when he asked her a question.

Harry had never been one to jump into things quickly. He was the kind of guy that liked to get a feel for a situation before he really dived into it. But there was something about this girl that made him want to jump in head first, fearless. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her, daydreaming about little scenarios that he wished would happen between them.

He knows he sounds crazy, but he has a crush on her. And he’d only met her once! That is so not like him at all.

Y/n turned once again, sure that she had calmed the burning in her cheeks, greeting Harry as if she hadn’t thought of him in weeks.

“Welcome in,” she says, wondering if it would be weird to him if she remembered who he was, she decided she doesn’t care, “Oh, hi Harry!”

“Hello Y/n!” He smiles. Y/n felt her heart stutter in her chest when her name fell from his lips. As if she was floating (she had to check to make sure she actually wasn’t), she followed the sound of his voice, going to stand before him. Her first instinct was to hug him, and she was very sad that she had to stop herself.

“What brings you back?” She asked, itching to reach out and hold his hand. His gaze flits around for a few seconds before landing back on her face, a rose tint now on his cheeks.

“I- uh, I don’t really know. I just felt like I needed to come back…” He stuttered. A smile graced her lips, causing an identical one to grow on his own. Asteria watched from behind the counter, beaming at the couple.

“Y/n dear, who’s this?” The witch called. Y/n snapped out of her love-drunk haze, looking to her mother.

“Mama, this is Harry. He came in a few weeks ago while you were away.” She answered, giving her a look that said “please don’t say anything.” Asteria had a tendency to butt into her daughter's life, and Y/n needed to figure this out on her own.

Thea came flouncing out from whichever corner she had burrowed herself into and nosed at Harry’s feet before launching herself onto Y/n’s shoulder and staring at Harry from her new height advantage.

“Well look at you Thea, sittin’ all pretty up there!” Harry reached out to scratch behind her ears. Thea began purring loudly, louder than she did when Y/n petted her (Y/n did her best not to roll her eyes at her attention whore cat). The one thing the girl loved about this was now she had a reason to step closer to the boy before her. He smelled like citrus and woods, with a hint of weed (she’s not judging, she just wouldn’t peg him for a stoner so it’s a little surprising). She let it take over her senses until all she could think about was HaryHaryHary, having to stop herself from purring just like the cat.

“Well, whatever led you back here, it’s nice to see you again!” She blushed, deciding to let her affection for him shine through lightly. Y/n realized she didn’t really want to waste time dancing around mortal niceties. She didn’t want to scare him off but she wouldn’t feign disinterest. The witch wanted to make it clear she was smitten with him. So this was her way of starting slow, letting her blushes be seen, maybe resting a gentle hand on his bicep if he says something that makes her laugh, letting her longing gazes be caught before she looks away.

Like she said before, she’s going to start slow.

“I am too…” Harry wondered if maybe she felt the things he was feeling too. If she couldn’t stop thinking about him the way he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wondered if it would be weird to ask her out. See if she wanted to get dinner with him, or have a picnic in a park on a sunny afternoon while he stared, as uncreepily as he could, at her bright smile and star-stricken eyes.

Very quickly, like it almost didn’t happen, Y/n saw a blush pink haze surrounding the boy. He was feeling love. The heat in her cheeks rose, fluttering of her heart increasing.

Now she knew for sure, he was her soulmate for love- not friendship. Thank the Stars!

* .

. * .

The next few weeks, Harry would come in every few days just to see Y/n. After realizing that she might be feeling the way he was, he wanted to make it clear to her that he was smitten. So he’d come in after he got done with whatever he’d been doing that day, bring her flowers or a blue-raspberry red bull italian soda (he saw her drinking one one day when he came by) and they would talk and sometimes he’d bring food if it was late and they would eat at the counter in the back kitchen. It became a routine, and he started showing up almost everyday. On slower days, she would close up early, so as not to have a single distraction from her Flame.

The two would talk about the most obscure things, not giving a rat if others heard them cackling at each other's jokes and misspeakings (Y/n stumbled over her words quite a bit when she was tired, he came to realize. He thought it was adorable).

In return for the beautiful flowers and the delicious drinks he’d bring her, Y/n would give him little spell jars or charmed items to make his life easier. He didn’t know they were spelled or charmed, but he thought it was cute how she gave him a lavender colored pen and told him he would think of her every time he wrote anything down (she had charmed it to always spell things correctly) or a little jar filled with lavender and chamomile buds, a few drops of lavender oil and a small amethyst crystal sealed in white wax to help quell the anxiety he’d been feeling with his job lately.

He appreciated them more than any material thing she could have purchased for him. He liked that she wanted him to think about her or that she wanted to do away with his ailments. He came in with a cold once and she spent the better part of an hour fussing over him, telling him all these little tricks to clear his sinuses and giving him different blends of herbs and spices that should clear this up in no time! He thought she was very adorable, worrying over a little cold and wanting to make him better.

Harry found that each time he left her, the force that pulled him to her grew stronger. He wanted to be in her presence more and more every time he walked out the door of the shop. The boy still didn’t really understand what it was about her, but he’s long since stopped asking questions and was just rolling with the punches.

Speaking of things Y/n did that Harry thought was cute- the things she said enamoured him, rendered him so speechless sometimes all he could do was sit there and look at her, (ironically) wondering what magical force brought her to him. He had no idea that the Universe herself was the one who chose his favorite girl.

“Oh Stars Thea! Get out of the nettle! It makes you sneeze, silly cat!”

“Stars forbid you ever listen to me, mother.”

“Althea Rose get your furry ass away from that hot wax before I feed you to the hellhounds!”

He loved how she was always saying Stars where he would normally say Jesus Christ. He never was one to be into religion but it was just something people around him said.

As the weeks went by, they began to sit closer and closer to each other. What started as across the table from one another, began to turn into her at the head and him on the corner next to her, then both of them sitting on one side but a bit of space between them, and then side by side, thighs touching, on the bench seat. Eventually, Y/n would lay one of her legs over his and he would rest his hand innocently on her skin, his thumb absentmindedly brushing back and forth, tapping his fingers to an imaginary beat as she told him a story about a kooky customer that came in.

That was another thing he loved that she said a lot: kooky.

Their goodbyes had grown more and more affectionate over time as well. From a little wave and a shy smile to a little hug, to a bear hug with a kiss on the temple from Harry.

Things were moving very swimmingly. Y/n was happy with the progress the two had made in getting to know each other. She had learned that he worked at a marketing firm but his passion was music, that he was in a band when he was in high school, and he’s from a village in Manchester.

Harry learned that Y/n has a degree in herbology and really likes the woods, and the show The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (despite the inaccurate depiction of witches, she thinks the characters are pretty).

Y/n has been trying to figure out the best way to tell Harry about her… lifestyle. It’s going to be a big shift in his reality and she worries that she’s going to overwhelm him. Her parents didn’t have this problem because they were both witches, but she had been fated to a mortal, which she’s not complaining about because loves Harry and all his human afflictions (loves!), but it’s quite a task keeping him in the dark until she’s ready to shed light on everything.

Especially on a day like today.

Her mother is out again, leaving her in charge of the store, again! And as previously mentioned, Y/n gets a little strung up when she’s left in charge. She’s forgetful, her mind flying all over the place. Her messiness gets worse, leaving different things all over the place (she somehow left a grimoire in the refrigerator at home), losing things… Basically, Y/n’s not doing so hot at the moment.

A busy spell had just finished, she had like 7 different customers in at once, all of them needing her for different things and all the chamomile and lavender oil rubbed behind her ear in the world couldn’t calm the anxiety flowing through her at the moment. She’d been so strung up that she hadn’t noticed the warm golden shiver running down her spine or all the hair on her body raising to attention or the jingle of the bells on the door when Harry walked in.

Walked in to see… the brooms sweeping up by themselves? And different pots and pans flying back into place… with no one carrying them. And Y/n muttering words he didn’t understand while her fingers wiggled, making the pestle inside what he learned to be called a mortar, moving by itself.

To say the least, Harry was very confused. And a little scared. Was he dreaming? Did today even happen? Was he still at home lying in bed?

The only thing that makes him realize he’s not is the shriek Y/n let’s out when she sees him standing frozen in the doorway, eyebrows pulled together in confusion (and a little bit of terror), mouth agape like he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. All at once, every moving item ceased and dropped, including the pots and pans which made a very loud noise, scaring Thea so much that she did the loud “meow!” that you only hear cats do in movies, and Y/n let out a quiet“Shit!”

“Harry…” She muttered, standing up slowly and treading towards him.

“Um… Y/n. What- what the fuck… was all of that?” He stuttered, and she continued to walk to him.

“Love, why don’t we go sit down and I’ll explain everything to you!” Y/n said slowly. She had taken to calling him Love lately, not being able to stop herself. They had yet to really “confess their feelings” to the other, but it was like a silent thing that no one said but they both just knew. So the name didn’t surprise him. Actually in the midst of all this craziness (and how his whole world had just seemed to be flipped in a matter of 5 seconds) he was clinging to the familiarity of the pet name.

He nodded, his eyes glazing over as he tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Y/n waved her wrist, everything that had dropped seeming to come to life again and be put back into their rightful places. Harry stared in amazement. Seeing it for the second time really drove the nail into the coffin that holy shit this is really happening…

They sat down side by side on the bench where they normally did but Y/n didn’t put her leg over his like they had grown used to. She missed the contact but figured a little space while she explained everything would be best for her Flame. Harry didn’t agree and tugged her closer to him. She didn’t fight it.

“Ok,” She sighed, cracking her knuckles as she took a deep breath, “Harry… my darling Harry. I need you to keep an open mind while I tell you all of this ok? It’s gonna be a lot for you to take in and I don’t want you to get a headache.” He nodded, and she took his hands in her own, running her thumb over his palm and channeling positive energy between the two of them. She saw Harry relax a little, letting her know it worked. He was ready (as ready as he could be) to hear what she had to say.

“Love, I’m a witch.” She says, letting it sink in for a moment. Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. Y/n wonders if he’s even breathing. The strong pulse thumping in his wrist is a steady reminder that he’s ok, just shocked. (Very, very shocked).

“I come from a very long line of very powerful witches. I have magic, kind of like you see in movies and tv shows except I don’t worship the devil or eat children. None of us do. We’re usually very gentle creatures, unless we’re put in danger. Witches don’t use magic to hurt others, quite the opposite actually.”

“So… you cast spells and stuff?” He asks quietly. She breathes a laugh through her nose, nodding her head, continuing to channel him by rubbing her thumbs over his palms.

“I do, that’s what you saw me doing at the counter. I was actually strengthening the anti-anxiety jar I gave you a few weeks ago, because you told me you had a big project coming up and I didn’t want you to get too stressed out.” The girl said.

Harry couldn’t really focus on one thing for too long, letting his gaze flit around the kitchen area. He felt oddly… calm.

“Why do I feel so calm right now? I feel like I should be freaking out a little bit more than I am…” He voiced, finally looking into her eyes.

“I’m channeling you… look.” She said, pointing her gaze to their hands. He sees her thumbs rubbing gentle circles into his palms and looks back into her eyes.

“You’re casting a spell on me right now?” Harry wonders out loud.

“Channeling isn’t necessarily a spell, I’m just focusing and directing positive energy onto you right now, to help keep you calm. Like I said, I don’t want you to get a headache or pass out on me. I can stop if you want me to though!” She added quickly at the end but he shook his head.

“No, don’t stop…” He almost cried, pulling her closer to him.

“Ok, I won’t. It’s ok!” She shushed him, letting one of her hands float to his cheek, brushing over his cheek bone and pushing a fallen curl out of his eyes, before her hand found his again.

“Was it a spell that made me want to come in here that first day?”

“No baby, that’s actually a little different. This might be a little much so you gotta bear with me ok?” She explained and he nodded, heaving out a heavy breath.

A beat of silence passes and Y/n lets her eyes lock with his.

“We’re Twin Flames… or what you would know as Soulmates. We were fated to be together. That’s why you felt a pull to come in here. We were… destined… to meet each other.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/n feels like her heart is about to beat out of her chest. She knew he was going to find out someday, but really didn’t expect that day to be this one. This crazy long day where everything had seemed to just bubble over and explode. She should have known something was going to happen when this morning, the flame on the candle she had lit for Harry on her altar was taller than it ever had been. She had written it off to him just thinking about her or something (if this was the case, it would be to the ceiling all day everyday because he never stops thinking about her), but she should have known. And now, here she was, terrified that Harry was going to walk away from her. She would understand if he did, it’s a lot to take in, and having your whole world flipped on its head is a bit much.

It would still break her heart though.

“So… this is normal?” Harry broke his silence.

“Is what normal?”

“That I want to be around you all the time? That I think about you all the time? What I’m feeling is normal?”

Y/n’s face softens. He’s so cute, she thinks. She could just wrap him up in a little bow and keep him all to herself for the rest of time.

“Yes, baby. It’s normal! I’ve been feeling the same things as you ever since we first met!” Harry’s mind is a little clearer now, so he picks up on the new pet name. Baby. He likes it, he decides.

“You feel this way too?” He looks like a little puppy right now, Y/n could just cry. She nodded her head, scooting impossibly closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. It seemed now that he was even calmer than he had been before, even without her channeling. She stopped for a second to test his reaction and he was ok. He didn’t tense up, eyes didn’t well in tears, didn’t lose consciousness. So she moved her hands to cup his cheeks now, feeling him lean into her touch.

“You’ve been the only thing on my mind since before you even walked through the door that first day. You’re in my dreams every night, I see you every time I close my eyes, I’m completely taken with everything you do.” Y/n confesses, feeling a weight lift off her chest.

“I know it seems fast to you, as a mortal. Your kind usually takes this kind of thing slowly, really learns a person before you become vulnerable. Out of fear for being judged or whatever it might be, but I would never judge you. I want you to know it’s ok to let your guard down with me. Whatever you're comfortable with! I don’t want to overwhelm you in any way, and I know all of this is so so much to take in. I just want what’s best for you, my Love.”

It’s not lost on Harry that she adds my before Love. He feels his heart flutter.

“I’m taken with everything you do too. Absolutely everything.” He whispers, if he speaks too loudly the moment might be lost.

They stare into each other's eyes, feeling the energy in the room grow. Flames from the lit candles around the room grow tenfold, reflecting the rising energy. Harry has half a mind to break his gaze from the girl before him, seeing the tall flames before bringing his eyes back to hers. He sees her gaze drop to his lips repeatedly. He doesn’t think she even realizes that she’s leaning in to him, but he’s not going to stop her.

When she’s so close he can feel her breath fanning over his face, she pauses, looking back up to his eyes, silently asking for permission. With her hands still cupping his cheeks gently, she closes the distance between them, pressing her lips delicately to his. Harry places his hands in two places: her waist and her neck. He pulls her in closer, pressing their lips together more firmly. A wildfire spreads from head to toe on both of them. It seems as though time has paused for this very moment, and again the earth shifts. A piece of the universe has just been restored, two halves of a soul reunited.

Harry’s fingertips send sparks flowing down her spine, she hums against his lips. The kiss is simple, just two people getting to know each other, learning the other's body, but it’s long. It’s not just one peck. Harry presses his lips against hers multiple times, slotting her bottom between both of his.

When Y/n pulls back to catch her breath, Harry chases after her, not ready to end this moment yet. She chuckles and grants him a few more kisses until she really is about to pass out because she needs to breathe. Pushing him gently, she breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against his, keeping her eyes closed.

She so badly wants to let the three words sitting on the tip of her tongue go, but doesn’t want to overwhelm him with too much all at once.

“Do you feel that?” He whispers, pulling her to sit astride his lap. She moves pliantly, letting him take control of the situation.

The air feels charged, thick, like it should be hard to breath but it flows, smooth as water, into their lungs.

Y/n’s head feels heavy, like she’s high on every drug there ever was, her mind fuzzy, unable to think outside of this moment. Outside of this little wrinkle in time where Harry is the only other thing that exists.

“Yeah,” She whispers back, reconnecting their lips, slotting them together over and over until their lips are puffy and red. Harry slides his hands around her waist, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, not even a slip of paper would fit.

Pulling away, Harry heaves in a deep breath, squeezing Y/n’s hips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long…” He says, nudging his nose against hers. She smiles, letting his affections wash over her, warming her eternal soul.

“This doesn’t freak you out?”

“Oh, I’m so freaked out but I'm kind of just going with it, living in the ambiguity and all that shit.” He heaves a laugh through his nose, pressing kisses to her cheek and down her neck, smoothing his hands up and down her back.

This was the best possible outcome of the situation, if Y/n had to be honest. It could have gone so many ways. Harry being freaked out but rolling with it… she’ll take it.

“How about we make dinner and you can ask me any questions you have?” She suggested and he nodded.

So they did just that. But Y/n closed the shop early and they went back to her place. Hand in hand they walked the few blocks, side glaces of reassurance and little squeezes of the hand, letting the other know they were there, and they weren’t going anywhere, with Thea in her little travel backpack (that she was absolutely in love with surprisingly).

They came upon an unsuspecting alleyway. Harry thought they were just passing through as a shortcut but Y/n stopped walking in the middle of a blank brick wall and muttered a few words she didn’t understand while waving her hands. He started to realize maybe this wasn’t just a shortcut.

Before his eyes, a door appeared. His brows shot up in surprise (he’s gonna get worry lines on his forehead if he doesn’t stop doing that, he realizes). Y/n looked over her shoulder at him, trying to hide a smirk but the look on his face was too good.

“Pretty wicked huh?” Harry didn't say anything, just chuckled and nodded, following her when she opened the door and a set of stairs appeared. Walking up the dimly lit hallway, they come to another door with the cheeky The Witch Is In sign.

“Cute.” Harry smirks at her and she laughs, opening it and letting him walk through first.

“Make yourself at home! I’ve got records on the shelf over there, you can pick one if you want. I’m just gonna feed Thea and get her all settled and we can get to making dinner.” Y/n explained. Harry ventured off into her living room, seeing the shelf she was talking about and browsing through. There were many different artists from Fleetwood Mac to Taylor Swift to Weezer. He picks out Hozier's self-titled album and puts it on, the beginning of Take Me To Church crackling through the speakers.

“Good choice,” He hears from behind him and smiles, turning around to see the girl he was apparently destined to spend the rest of his life with standing before him.

“Jackie and Wilson has been stuck in my head the last few days so,” He said, sauntering over to her and snaking his arms around her waist.

Taking a look around, he sees many different trinkets and items similar to what was in the shop. A lot of jars filled with different things, candles of all different colors, crystals, a broom (he didn’t realize witches actually had brooms but ok), among other things that he didn’t know the purpose of.

“Wait… how are there windows in here? I didn’t see any outside.” He asked, pulling back from the hug and looking at her.

“Well, there aren’t any windows in the alley. But there’s also a glamour spell on this building so nobody can see my apartment. That’s why you can’t see the door until I do the little thing you saw me do.” She answered. A sheepish smile broke onto his face.

“Oh,” he said and she laughed from her chest, petting a few fallen curls back from his forehead. She could get used to this, she thinks as she stares into his eyes, green as the forest and wide with wonder at everything he’s discovered today.

Who knew the girl he was falling in love with would be a witch… with actual powers.

* .

. * .

“Wait so, if no one can see your front door… how do you get mail?” Harry asked, reaching around Y/n for the salt.

“At the shop,”

“Oh,” He says. She laughs, kissing his cheek and continuing on cutting up veggies for the salad they're making.

“Have you always been able to do magic or was it something you grew into?” Y/n thought back to when she was little, remembering how she struggled to harness her powers for a few years before she started getting the hang of things.

“I always had powers, but imagic isn’t something you just wake up and know how to do so it took a while for me to really settle into and control. Magic is a skill, same as reading and writing, so I had to be taught and I had to work on it. Does that make sense?” She pauses while she explains, looking into his eyes. Harry nods, but his light hearted curious expression turns into one of embarrassment and she doesn’t understand why.

A rosy red color surrounds him, telling her he was feeling… embarrassed? Why did he feel embarrassed?

“Baby? What’s going through your head?” She asks, wanting to help him feel better.

She doesn’t like when he’s feeling anything other than happy!

“I just… I feel like I’m asking you so many questions about all of this stuff and it’s just tough to wrap my head around I guess.” She puts the knife down and sets her hand on his wrist, stopping from what he’s doing. She places her other hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to face her.

“Harry, this is a lot to take in, yeah? It’s not something you can just find out and move on from. It’s gonna take time to process. You’re gonna feel a lot of emotions, and that’s ok! I would be worried if you weren’t feeling a little off, as much as I hate that you’re not feeling 100%.”

She places a series of gentle pecks on his lips, doing her best to soothe him in any way.

“Ask all the questions you want! You don’t have to worry about being judged or saying something wrong, you have a right to be curious.” She feels him relax in her hold which in turn makes her relax.

“Thank you for being patient with me,”

He’ll get used to this, he thinks. He’ll get used to the fact that real witches actually exist, he’ll start to understand the words she mutters when she waves her hands, he’ll get it eventually. But right now, he doesn’t really get it, he’s not really used to it. But she’s worth it. She’s worth more than everything.

“I think you’re the one thing I know how to be patient with,” Again, she wants to mutter those three words on the tip of her tongue, but he’s already been through so much today, she doesn’t want to overwhelm him any more than he already is. So she’ll wait, because one day (hopefully soon) he’ll be ready to hear them.

“Can you do a spell? I kind of want to see how they work…” Harry asks after a moment of them just enjoying the silence that only really comes when two people understand each other.

She chuckles and nods, telling him she will show him a few spells after dinner. He agrees and they go back to making their meal, dancing around each other and laughing just like they always did and it felt good. Felt like this would be ok. Y/n was still scared because he could still decide to leave, that this was too much for him. That she was too much for him.

But for right now, things were ok.

* .

. * .

“Amoris et lux sum ego ipse, et carorum beatum facere potest, per potentiam solem et lunam, ut superius, et inferius.”

(I am love and light, I bring happiness to myself and my loved ones, By the power of the sun and moon, as above, so below)

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything weirder in his life...and his college roommate freshman year was a conspiracy theorist.

As Y/n spoke the words, she stirred a brew of tea infused with different herbs clockwise. He watched from beside her as she did this, his hand placed on her thigh so that his energy could be used in the spell along with hers.

Before she said the spell, she told him to set an intention and he had no idea what that was so she did a little lesson after reassuring him that his question was valid. (He’s still feeling insecure about not understanding anything she was talking about.) She told him to “close your eyes, take a deep breath, and clear your mind. Think of something you want in life that isn’t material.”

His immediate thought was that he wanted to spread kindness and love in the world (Y/n did her best not to tear up at her Flame’s pure intentions) so she nodded, telling him to think about that and only that, and set her intentions to the same thing so the spell would work. Mixing lavender, rose petals, and chamomile in a large mug, she pours in hot water to steep the herbs and, as previously mentioned, stirs it clockwise (something about clockwise being for manifestation), , rubs her palms together and snaps her fingers, and snuffs out the candles she had lit.

When all is said and finished, Y/n pulls Harry into a sweet kiss, and then has him take a sip of the tea telling him be careful my Love, it’s still hot. He kisses her back, taking a sip of the tea (he’d never been one for lavender things but this was actually really good. He wonders if it has anything to do with the fact that Y/n made it).

“So we just drink this and then what?” He asks, handing her the mug.

“We sacrifice an animal,” She says, not skipping a beat and taking her sip. Harry chokes on his spit, gasping for a breath of air before the girl bursts into a fit of giggles.

“I’m just kidding, baby. That’s it. That’s the whole spell. You just have to honestly believe it for it to work.” She says and he heaves a sigh of relief.

“Don’t joke like that!” He whines, more giggles escaping from Y/n’s throat.

“I’m sorry bub, I won’t do that anymore.” She says, still fighting off laughs. They continue to sip the tea, Y/n telling Harry about different things she did during the day.

Harry looked upon her as if she hung the moon just for him, and was telling him all about how she did it. Without even realizing it, he started to feel warmer and like a buzz was coursing through his veins.

“I feel weird…”

“What do you mean you mean you feel weird?” She voiced, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead and then feeling his pulse. Both were normal.

“I feel warm and like I’m buzzing… Kind of like I’m high…” He explained and she nodded her head, a small sigh of relief escaping her.

“That’s the spell working baby. You’re ok!”

“Oh, ok. It just worried me a little,”

“You’re ok! I want you to tell me when something worries you or feels different or off.” She says, and places a hand on his thigh. Harry agrees and they continue with their conversation.

When they both took their last sips on the tea, they cuddled up on the couch, an incense stick and candle lit on the coffee table.

Y/n sat, manipulating the smoke and flame simultaneously while Harry watched with a wide eyed gaze. She had explained how this was something he would be able to learn if he wanted to, and that she had been practicing for years to be able to do both things at the same time.

“I started when I was… I want to say 5. It’s a simple skill that promotes concentration. You have to stay extremely focused to even manipulate one element at a time. It’s only been these last few years that I’ve been able to concentrate enough to do both.” She explained, taking a break. As much as she loved showing Harry all these different things, it took a lot of energy out of her and it had already been a dreadfully long day.

“How about we go to sleep and I’ll show you more tomorrow? I’m pooped!” Harry hums an agreement, lifting his head from her lap and letting her lead the way to her bedroom.

Light lavender walls adorned with shelves full of plants and different nicknacks, and a desk with more candles, herbs, and other eclectic items sat atop it.

“What is all of this?” He sifts through all the things on the desk, not touching as Y/n had explained to him at some point today, I know you don’t have any ill intent, but a lot of this stuff absorbs other people's energy which can mess up what I use it for, so look and don’t touch. If you want a closer look, I’ll pick it up. There are different colored stones of varied shapes and sizes and many candles. One in particular catches his eyes. A green one with a very tall flame with something carved into the side of it. “What’s up with this green candle?”

“This is my altar, and the green candle is the one I have lit for you. I’m assuming that because you’re here, it’s going a little crazy. Nothing to be afraid of! I’m actually going to put it out since you’re here with me.” She explained quickly, reaching towards the flame with her finger and snuffing it out.

“Wait, you had a candle lit for me?” His eyes rounded, a shy smile coming onto his lips. An identical smile graced her features as she turned to look at him.

“Yeah, I’ve had one lit for you since the day we met. I made a sigil and carved it into the side and keep it lit day and night as an extra layer of protection for you.” She explained. Harry felt his heart melt at this.

She couldn’t get any cuter, he thinks.

A candle lit for him… to keep him safe. That’s adorable.

He leans in and places a gentle kiss on her lips, brushing the little hairs away from her face.

Y/n led him further into her room where her ensuite bathroom was, giving him a tooth brush and letting him know he could shower if he wanted to. When he came back into the room after getting ready, Y/n laid out on the bed in a sports bra and shorts. He just wore his boxers.

Climbing into bed next to her, she cuddled up to him right away, his arm finding a home around her body and her head laid on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“Been dreaming about this moment my whole life,” Y/n mumbled, cheek smushed against his skin, making her look all cute and cuddly. Harry had to hold back a coo at the sentiment.

“Me too Moppet, me too,” He sighed, and they both drifted off into warm, fluffy, dream-like states, wrapped in the safety of each other's arms.

* .

. * .

Walking down the street at night isn’t the best idea for normal women, Y/n had learned over her 22 years of life. But Y/n is not a normal woman. She’s a witch.

And while most women carry their keys between their knuckles and have tasers or pepper spray or mace at the ready, Y/n didn’t really need that. This was one of the only instances where she would use her magic to harm anyone. Like she’d said before- only when she’s put in danger (or someone else around her is put in danger).

So when a prick who reeks of whiskey starts tailing her, she waits for him to take the first blow. Waits for him to get a little too close, so she can turn around and unleash her wrath on him. All the while making it seem like it’s not her doing. Like causing a brink to fall off the roof above her and hit him in the head. She wouldn’t actually do that but a witch could dream.

No, she’ll trip him up without turning around and if he still insists on gaining her attention, she’ll spin around quick, flick her wrist and send him into an unconscious daze and let him sleep off his inebriation on the lovely warmth of the concrete sidewalk.

That’s exactly what she does.

“Hey sweetheart, where you goin’?” He slurs, beginning his trek behind her. She’s unresponsive which leads him to believe she’s playing hard to get because his fragile little man ego can’t fathom that a woman would ignore his attention.

“Oh c’mon baby don’t be like that!” He speeds up, already wobbling but this only serves to make him clumsier.

She does her thing, flicking her wrist in his direction (discreetly) so he trips, but this doesn’t stall him. He reaches out, effectively grabbing her arm. She whips around to face him, cheeks growing red hot with anger. Ripping her arm out of his grasp and twisting his arm around, she gets close to his face.

“Touch me again, I fucking dare you!” She snarls, doesn’t even realize her grip is burning into his flesh- her magic gets a little crazy when she’s mad. Releasing him (tossing his arm away from her in a rough manner), she flicks her wrist once again and mutters a quick “et obliviscere somnum*”, watching him fall to the ground, unconscious. She looked around to see if anyone was watching the scene go down but no one was sober enough to pay attention to some drunk bloke harassing a young woman.

*(forget and sleep)

She shakes off her frustration as she comes to a stop in front of an unfamiliar building. Where her Flame lives.

She had agreed to let him make her dinner at his house, so she packed an overnight back and made her way further into town. He had given her an address and while, yes she did use it, she also let their bond lead her to him. She just kind of knew where to go, it seemed. Harry had expressed that he felt something similar the first time he went into the shop, though he didn’t understand why he wanted to walk in- just felt like he had to.

Making her way up the stairs, she let’s Harry know she’s there, beginning to feel the familiar tingle rush down her spine. She hadn’t seen him for a week and a half since he's been busy with a project at work- a client wasn’t happy with all the work he and a coworker had done so they had to quickly re-do an entire proposal to meet the client's deadline. Needless to say- the little anti-anxiety jar she made him was coming in real handy lately. Y/n had also had him put citrine and amethyst points on his desk while he worked to help him focus and stay calm so he didn’t stress too badly.

She always had a little something to make his life easier, whether it be a stone, or a jar of different things (a spell jar, he’d learned), or whatever it may be- she always had something to help.

When she made it to his floor, he was standing there waiting for her with open arms. She ran to him, jumping into his arms and holding onto him tight.

“I missed you, my wild girl,” He muttered into her neck, spinning her around. Her face flushed without fail, her arms wrapping tighter around him.

“Missed you most,” She sighed, nuzzling into him.

“Don’t think that’s possible.”

She hummed in disagreement while he walked them inside, Y/n still wrapped around him like a koala bear. His house smelled of peach and mango. It’s sweet- just like him. The thought made her smile.

Giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek, she pulls back to have a look at his face, seeing he’s smiling like an idiot. It warms her heart to see him smile, butterflies breaking out of their cocoons and fluttering about her tummy.

“What’re you smiling for?” She voices, giggling at him.

“M’ happy you’re here,” He sighed, “Don’t like not seeing you.”

“I don’t like not seeing you either,” She frowned, petting his wild curls back and placing little pecks all around his face.

His cheeks flushed at her affection.

Harry set Y/n down on the kitchen counter, standing in between her legs, hands resting on her hips. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers lightly, before slotting them together, fully indulging himself in his girl. She responds immediately, letting her hands rest around his neck.

She will never not be amazed by how soft his lips are. Kissing him feels like floating through clouds, like laying down in bed after a long day on your feet. Kissing him is like the first breath of warm summer air after the longest winter. Kissing him feels like coming home.

Y/n’s heartbeat picks up as the kiss becomes more needy, leaning into him further. Harry pulls her closer, his hands ghosting up the bare skin under her shirt and fiddling with the band of the bralette she’s wearing. A gasp escapes her lips when he pulled the fabric up, letting it snap back to her skin causing a smirk to grow on his face- struggling to keep up with her lips.

He kisses her breathless before pulling away, watching as her eyes flutter open and she heaves air into her lungs, her cheeks flushed and supple.

“Don’t want the food to burn,” He smirks again, hands falling away from her body, moving the pots and pans on the stove around to the counter so he could plate their dinner.

“Asshole,” He hears her mutter.

Harry could get used to this, having Y/n around. Being able to come home to her, make them dinner, make out in the kitchen, fall asleep together. He can’t believe he ever thought he loved anyone before she came along. There was just no way. Y/n came into his life and took over every aspect and now he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. He hopes to the Stars he doesn’t have to.

Yeah, she’s got him praying to the stars now.

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