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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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body of mine | Seokjin (M)

→ summary: It’s the night before Seokjin’s birthday and you, his ever-reliable witch slash roommate, have accidentally forgotten to get him a gift. Good thing you know magic then, right? Ten wishes shouldn’t be too hard to handle…

{or alternatively: learning the importance of living a marie kondo lifestyle, but in hindsight}

→ genre: shifter!au, magic!au, humor/crack, smut → warnings: jin is your magical hamster familiar, jin is chaotic (ofc), magical mischief that only zee could come up with, aphrodisiac sex, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), slightly rough sex, dom!jin if you squint, hair pulling, jin doesn’t wrap up his peepee (pls practice safe sex u guys), dirty talk, breeding kink?? → words: 16.9K → a/n: IDK WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE ORIGINAL POST BUT HERE IT IS!! IM SO SORRY BUT HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY @jincherie PLEASE IM GOING TO CRY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS (pls send me your thots i suffered greatly for this fic i’m actually dying appa yip yip)

Whoever told you that keeping a hamster as a familiar was a good idea must have been an idiot.

It’s you – you are the idiot. Every one of your friends had warned you about the little vermin. They had begged you to kick him out the moment you found him taking a hamster-sized dump on your prized foxgloves.

You’d been in the middle of pruning the yallows in your garden when you heard a tiny squeak! to your right. When you pushed the foliage away, you saw a small hamster, cheeks puffed up with its little fists clenched by its sides, as pellet after pellet of tiny shits were pushed out of its tiny ass and onto your plants.

You brought him into your home, already making up your mind that you’d keep him as a pet. You have been feeling a bit lonely these days; surely, a tiny little hamster won’t be too much of a problem to take care of, right? You’re so excited that you even invite your friends over to behold your newfound darling.

“I’m going to kill that tiny bastard,” Yoongi hissed the moment he made eye contact with the hamster, his pupils dilating and fluffy cat ears tensing, ready to attack. You could see his claws begin to extend, so you made sure to place your new friend out of his reach. Lucky for you, Yoongi had the arm span of a toddler.

“Oh, c’mon! He’s so fucking cute though,” you cooed, tickling the hamster’s belly. It squeaked happily, nudging your finger to scratch the underside of its ears. Yoongi hissed at it from behind Namjoon’s back, his fingernails digging painfully into the gentle giant’s shoulders. The bespectacled witch didn’t even seem to bat an eye.

“Y/N, I’m all for keeping magical pets and whatnot, but I have to agree with Yoongi… That hamster has too much bastardous energy,” Namjoon said, wincing when the hamster begins munching on the sleeves of your cloak in earnest. You continued to squeal in delight, positively endeared by the cute little ball of fur in your palms.

Due to your magical abilities, you had sensed that this little hamster had magic in his veins and you guessed that he must have either been a shifter or an intellectually augmented animal. You guessed that he’s the former, much like how Yoongi is a cat shifter as well. Ever since Namjoon had befriended Yoongi and the two became partners, you admit that you’ve always been a little jealous of their natural camaraderie. You had long since yearned for someone who could assist you in your magical apothecary, but more importantly, someone you could share your time with.

You were optimistic; perhaps when the little hamster learned to shift into its human form, then you could truly begin your journey towards friendship. You’re sure that the man behind the hamster must be just as cute and lovely.

Speaking of learning to shift—

“What? You mean me?” Yoongi asked, craning his head over Namjoon’s shoulder, his curiosity getting the better of him but still remaining a safe distance away from you and the hamster. “What about learning to shift?”

“Did you just learn one day? I want to get Mr. Hamster over here to turn into a human so I can speak to him,” you explained, but the cat shifter narrows his eyes distrustfully.

“I don’t want that vermin to gain the ability to speak. I can just tell no one is going to enjoy what he has to say,” he sniffed. He growled lowly, the sound so deep and feral that you are momentarily disarmed by his hostility. Namjoon had to rub the back of his ears for a second, forcing Yoongi to calm down until his growl softened into a purr.

“Well, Yoongi can’t control his shifting abilities quite yet. I have to… forcibly change him, if you will,” Namjoon explained, watching Yoongi with loving eyes as he gently nuzzled his head into the witch’s hand. He beckoned you closer and you took a tentative step forward, keeping the hamster behind your back just to be safe. “Watch,” he said simply, as his hand trails lower and lower until it reached the back of Yoongi’s neck and he–

Poof! Namjoon simply tickled the back of Yoongi’s neck and a puff of purple smoke revealed a munchkin cat in its wake. His soft gray and white fur bristled in surprise, his teeth bared at Namjoon as he meowed in contempt. Namjoon ignored all of this, gently picking up the tiny cat and cradling him in his arms like a baby. Immediately, the shifter relaxed, eyes closing contentedly as he burrowed deeper into Namjoon’s chest.

“Woah,” you said, for lack of better words. You shook your head, gazing at the two in wonder. “I didn’t know Yoongi has a fucking eject button.”

“Yep. I sure hope you don’t abuse this knowledge, by the way,” Namjoon warned, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes told you that he probably wouldn’t mind if you did. Knowing you, there was no question that you’d take any and every opportunity to annoy the cat shifter. “If this hamster is the same, then surely it has a similar tick. Since it’s small too, I’m sure it’ll be easy to find its spot.”

“Speaking of,” you piped up, staring curiously at him. “How… did you find out where Yoongi’s spot was? Didn’t you meet him as a human?”

Namjoon shrugged, but there’s a soft pink tint coloring the tops of his ears. “Umm… Coincidence?”

You squinted at him. “Sure,” you agreed, not wanting to know why he seemed so embarrassed. You turned back to the furry matter at hand, lips pursing as you gazed upon the hamster. Surely, there should be an easy way to figure this out…

You began to roll the small hamster in your hand like a pancake, twisting and pulling the lil guy until it started squeaking in protest. You made sure not to handle it too roughly, so you were a bit surprised at how dramatically the hamster was screaming. “Just another moment, baby…” you murmured. At the sound of the pet name, the hamster paused in its squirming, staring wide-eyed at you with its tiny mouth ridiculously agape. You arched a brow, amused at the aghast expression on its face.

“Well, that settles it. You’re definitely human, by the looks of it,” you commented, poking it lightly on the nose. The hamster scrunched up its face just as a soft pink smoke started to envelop its tiny body. You coughed harshly, your sinuses tickled by the strong scent of caramel and mint. “W-well, I think I found its spot,” you pointed out helplessly, eyes watering as you tried to keep them open.

The hamster’s body was growing ridiculously hot, forcing you to drop it on your kitchen counter. You hissed, sucking on your burned appendages as you wait for the smoke to subside. Beside you, Namjoon had Yoongi held tightly in his arms, his back turned away to keep the smoke away from their faces. “Y/N, get some clothes quickly. He’s going to be cold when he finishes transforming,” was all he said, his free hand covering his nose. “This is probably going to be its first shift in a while!”

You’re still completely flabbergasted, frozen in place. “What?” you replied dumbly, standing stock still as you waited for the smoke to dissipate. As more and more of it cleared, you noticed two pairs of long legs where there originally had been none. You waved your hand a bit, fanning the remaining fumes away from your nose, allowing you to gaze upon a very naked and very tall man sitting primly on your kitchen counter.

You and the man stared each other down, neither of you blinking nor backing down. After a few moments, the man smiled brightly at you, his cheeks bunching up much like how he did in his hamster form. “Hello, human,” he greeted, extending a hand towards you. You took it dazedly, still staring wide-eyed at him. “My name is Seokjin. I suppose this means I’m going to be your familiar from now on.”

Your gaze traveled downwards, your hands still clasped together with his. “You’re naked,” you said plainly.

He followed your gaze. “I suppose I am,” he mused, shrugging his shoulders. He was incredibly wide; it almost made no sense that he was a hamster just a few seconds ago. What did he do, bench press sunflower seeds all day? “I am also incredibly beautiful, but we can continue stating the obvious another day.” He released your hands, clasping them together with a beatific smile. “C’mon, human! Bring me your finest garments because my handsomely sculpted testicles are starting to shrivel up from the cold.”

Behind you, you could hear Yoongi hissing loudly in response.

And from that day forward, your adventures of living with the biggest nuisance in the world had begun.

x x x x x

[December 3, 11:39 PM]

Okay, maybe calling him a nuisance is a bit too mean… He’s not that bad. Although, you are sure that Seokjin would have gladly nipped you in the tit if he ever found out you thought so lowly of him. Which you don’t.

Usually.

Except when he’s being annoying, which is all the time. For example:

“Stop fucking biting, you little furball,” you grouse, flicking the hamster in the stomach. He gasps in response, or at least, you assume he had gasped since hamsters don’t exactly have the same vocal cords that humans do. What you do know, however, is that Seokjin seems particularly adamant to be irritating tonight, despite your numerous threats to snip his tiny hamster balls should he continue to pester you.

Unfortunately, none of your usual intimidation tactics work, thus prompting you to grab the small rodent and squeeze him like a squeaky toy. (And what do you know—he even squeaks like one too!)

“Will you stop bothering me? You know I’m busy.” You squint angrily at him, scowling when Seokjin looks back at you with faux innocence. This lil bitch wouldn’t know innocence if it shoved a finger up his ass! “You’ve been more annoying than usual. You even tried parkouring over my herb bottles even though I’ve told you numerous times that’s off limits!”

You feel only slightly bad for scolding him; after all, you are in the midst of preparing a particularly difficult potion for one of your clients tomorrow. Seokjin knows this, and you even specifically told him not to bother you until you finished for the night. While he often did like to interrupt your work for “life or death situations” such as “cuddling” or “spoon-feeding him some pudding,” he usually leaves you alone to do your work when you’re faced with tougher jobs. Today doesn’t seem to be the case as he nibbles ferociously on your sleeves, desperate for you to listen to whatever nonsense he wants to convey.

Rolling your eyes (albeit you admit you do it out of fondness), you gently take the little hamster into your hands, placing him on your kitchen floor. You make sure the stove for your potion making is turned off before you turn back to him, honking his button nose and waiting for him to shift completely.

Since it’s no longer his first time shifting, it only takes Seokjin a few seconds to transform into his human self, his large frame quickly taking up most of the space of your cramped kitchenette. He accidentally bumps his head into one of your hanging potted plants, causing him to yelp in surprise rather than actual pain. He glares pointedly at your orchids before switching that ire onto you, his normally saccharine brown eyes filled with thinly veiled contempt.

“Took you long enough,” he sniffs, poking you not-too gently in the cheek. He folds his arms, appearing to you like a child throwing a tantrum. “Well?”

You raise a brow, covertly turning on your stove once more to resume your potion-making. “Well what?” you say, stirring your small cauldron from the corner of your eye. Seokjin halts your movements instantly, pulling your arm away and half-dragging you towards your living room.

“H-hey! That potion is really sensitive, so let me go—”

“It’s almost midnight,” is all he says before dumping you unceremoniously on your old sunken couch. You grunt from the impact, but he doesn’t apologize for his gruffness (as he never has). You peer up at him, scowling slightly at his unexpectedly cryptic remark.

“And so? This potion is due for pick-up in two days and I’ll need to steep it for another 24 hours before I can even think to package it–”

Instead of replying, Seokjin takes his phone out of his pocket and thrusts the screen towards you. You look at it in confusion, confronted with the sight of his lock screen without any explanation. “It’s… 11:43?”

He rolls his eyes, though you notice a slight hint of disappointment clouding his expression. “And what about the date?” he pushes, lips pursed thinly into a line.

He’s trying to get you to understand without saying it outright – a habit of his that he’s acquired ever since he started hanging out more with Yoongi. Though the two are hardly considered friends, even Seokjin has to admit that being near the cat has caused him to pick up a thing or two, with his tsundere tendencies being one of the first.

You, on the other hand, are forced to play along with his antics. You know that it is December 3. As you try to rack your head for anything you might have missed, you’re pretty sure you’ve accomplished all your chores for today, save for the current potion brewing for the customer coming in two days. You think back on your day, listing off all the things you had done.

You had met up with Namjoon to pick up more herbs from his shop, you delivered more mana potions to the local apothecary, you passed by the street market to buy more sunflower seeds for Seokjin… What on earth could you be forgetting?

“I sincerely hope you’re joking, you know.” Seokjin interrupts your train of thought, breaking you from your trance. When you look back at him, you find that his annoyance has cleared. Hurt replaces his expression, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he waits for you to realize.

When it appears that you won’t be noticing anytime soon, he heaves a heavy sigh, eyes closing in defeat. His voice cracks when he says, “Fine. It’s fine. Whatever. I’ll just… Go to my room. Don’t worry about breakfast tomorrow because I’m gonna sleep in.” And with that, he swivels away from you, shoulders hunched forward as he quietly makes his way to his quarters.

Left shocked and even more puzzled, your gaze is stuck where he had just been moments ago, anxiety and guilt rising in your chest as you try harder to remember what it is that caused Seokjin to shut you out like that. In your seven months of living together, not once has he ever looked so dejected, as the handsome shifter often liked to push your buttons and tease you whenever you mess up. This is clearly not like the other times, so whatever you forgot must pertain to Seokjin himself.

“Am I missing something? Did I forget to season his dinner again?” Although it is entirely too plausible that you did, you highly doubt Seokjin would be that upset at having a bland meal. So what else could it…?

Just as you’re about to give up and beg Seokjin to tell you what you had forgotten, your phone beeps, a new text from Namjoon arriving just in time. You flick it on, your brain taking a moment to fully grasp the words you were trying to read.

from: joonieboobie to: y/n

hey y/n! are you gonna spend the entire day with seokjin tomorrow? yoongi and i figured that you’d do something special for him on his bday, so tell seokjin that we’ll treat him to a birthday dinner the next day instead. don’t have too much fun, okay? use protection LMAO

Shit.

You gasp suddenly, hand flying to your mouth as horror washes over you. Did Namjoon just say… bday?! Now that he mentions it, you realize that today is December 3rd, which means…

“Tomorrow is December 4th,” you whisper to yourself. You jump out of the couch, scrambling towards your kitchen at a wicked pace. Sweat begins to form at the back of your neck as you run over to your wall calendar, where lo and behold, tomorrow’s date is circled in blood-red ink. Circled by you, even. Holy shit holy shit holy shit–

No wonder Seokjin was so hurt. You’re a terrible, foul, no-good witch! The absolute worst person in the world! How on earth could you forget your own familiar’s birthday?

“Jesus fuck, I’m screwed,” you groan, slumping over your kitchen counter in defeat. You don’t even care that your potion has long since boiled over—not when you’ve already made a bigger mistake just now. God, you’re such a clumsy bitch; what’s the point of being a potion maker who helps cure other people’s maladies if you can’t even fix your shortcomings?

“I can fix this. I can fix this. I can—” You chant this multiple times to yourself as you rush to your nearby bookshelf, pulling out every book you own to find a last-minute gift idea. Surely, there’s something in these books that can help you make it up to Seokjin, right? You’ve made almost every potion there is under the sun, surely there is something you can brew that can bring back the smile on your lovably goofy familiar?

You’ll pour over all of these books if you have to. Despite your forgetfulness, your love for your familiar rings true; you would do anything for him, whatever he might ask.

A thought passes through your mind, but you shut it down for now. A last resort, you think grimly to yourself. You have a few hours left before he wakes up, after all. You’ll find something, you’re sure.

x x x x x

[December 4, 9:14 AM]

It turns out you do not find anything, after all. A halo of books surrounds you on your living room floor, your worn fingers littered with papercuts and ink stains after spending the whole night looking for a suitable gift for Seokjin. Everything just seems too regular to be a gift, though you suppose you’re only picky because you know that Seokjin is pickier. He’d whine for days if you gave him just any gift, and nothing grinds your gears more than having a sulking hamster eating the plants in your garden.

“Grandeur,” you can imagine him saying, nose upturned in that snooty way of his. “I require the most exquisite of presents. I, after all, am above peasantry. I cannot even stand the taste of wooden chopsticks upon my silver tongue.”

Frankly, you have no idea how he’d gotten to become such a prick so haughty, given that you know that he used to live on the streets before he had met you. Regardless, you’ve always been the type of person to be a little too forgiving, so your patience for his irritating unorthodox personality is stronger than most.

Although it might not be immediately apparent to most observers, the two of you make for a perfect pair. You are the calm to his storm, the logic to his insanity, the yin to his dumbass yang. While it’s easy to say that you hold the short end of the stick when it comes to living with Seokjin, he also grounds you and keeps you from pushing yourself too hard. There have been many long nights in the past when you would be too absorbed in your work, not even remembering to eat or drink for days. All it takes is a soft poke or nibble from Seokjin to jolt you back to your senses as he reminds you time and time again that your life matters not only to you, but him as well.

He’s your familiar. Your sweet, foolish, annoying, narcissistic familiar. It really might have been fate for you to have met all those months ago in your garden, though you’d never tell him that. He’d be much too smug about it if you did, as he never did shy away from proclaiming that he was your knight in shining armor or something.

Which is all the more reason that you fear for your life now that you’ve run out of options for his birthday present. He’d never let you hear the end of it, and you can only imagine how a vengeful and spiteful Seokjin might be compared to his normal self.

You sigh dejectedly, closing your last book and shoving it across your living room floor. “This is my fault for forgetting,” you say, rubbing your temples with a grimace. Of all the times your forgetfulness could fail you, you certainly would have hoped that this would not be one of the times when it did. You must remember to ask Namjoon to restock the ingredients needed to make more head clarity potions, though you suppose you might end up forgetting to do that as well.

Every potion in your arsenal of knowledge just wouldn’t work out for Seokjin, or at least you think so. The potions are either too useless or too useful, with the latter being a bigger problem. As much as you like to tease Seokjin for his hamster-sized brain, he did have his cunning moments. You dread to wonder what type of mischief he might come up with should you give him, say, a 24-hour luck potion.

“Though I suppose he wouldn’t be able to take over the world in 24 hours… Could he?” Even as you say it, you know in your heart of hearts that he absolutely can and will. Fucking bastard that he is.

With no other options viable to you, you did have one last trick up your sleeve. You might even say this option is worse than a 24-hour luck potion, though you will be making sure that he has adult supervision while he, erm, utilizes this gift of yours. This last-minute gift idea of yours is famous amongst your circle of friends, mostly because you do have a penchant for forgetting numerous birthdays and anniversaries in the past.

You’re usually quick to resort to this last-minute gift whenever you forget someone’s birthday, as you trust that your friends would never misuse your kindness in any way. But like most things, Seokjin is a different case entirely. As you have mentioned before, Seokjin… has ways of getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Added with the fact that you were unquestionably whipped for his hamster ass, he most often can get you to do things that aren’t what most would consider being “morally sound.” You may love him, but you certainly don’t trust him.

Long story short, you are slightly terrified of giving him ten wishes for his birthday. Ten wishes that will allow him to ask you to do anything for him, as long as they’re within your abilities of course. If anyone were to find out that you were even considering offering wishes to Seokjin, much less ten wishes, you are sure that they would throttle you for the premeditated mass destruction of the human population.

Which is why you’re going to have to make some rules for the little rodent, and hope to all the deities up above that he doesn’t find a loophole of sorts. Hopefully.

It’s nearing 9:30 AM when you manage to muster up enough courage to tiptoe noiselessly into his room, not bothering to knock as you know that he will most likely ignore you. Your heart pangs when you see him curled up into a ball in his bed, still in his human form as you had not been able to transform him back into a hamster before he had stormed off the night before. He has his back turned away from the door, but you know he’s awake when you hear his muffled sniffles. Your previous trepidation is replaced with guilt immediately, causing you to lower your head in shame.

“Seokjin? Sweetie?” You say his name hesitantly, unsurprised when the shifter refuses to look at you. You pad softly towards his bed, your knee digging into the soft mattress but not daring to come closer. You want desperately to cuddle with him in bed, always having appreciated his higher body temperature, especially during the colder months.

“I’m so sorry for forgetting your birthday, Seokjinnie. I know I’m a big fool for forgetting such an important day, but I really hope you can forgive me,” your voice grows softer the more you speak, dropping to a whisper by the end of your sentence. The room is silent, save for the sound of Seokjin’s breathing and your rapidly beating heart. Your mouth feels like sandpaper when you continue, “I know this might not make it up to you entirely, but I do have a gift that I want to share with you.”

At the mention of the word “gift,” you can see the way the small hamster ears perched on his head start to twitch. You smile secretively to yourself, knowing that you finally got his attention. “Come on, sweetie. Don’t you want to know what your present is?”

With a loud sigh, Seokjin rolls over to face you, his cheeks blotchy with tear stains and dried snot. You nearly cry out at the sight, but you keep your guilt to yourself, now more eager than ever to right your wrongs. You hate seeing him cry, most especially when it is you who had made him shed those tears.

“You got me a gift?” His voice is hoarse, but his curiosity is plain as day.

You nod happily, clapping your hands with excitement. “Yup! I know this will be the first time Seokjinnie is celebrating his birthday with me, so I thought long and hard about this—” a complete lie, but he doesn’t have to know that, “—and I thought it would be great if I gave you ten wishes for your birthday!”

There is a pause. In lieu of a response, Seokjin just sits up in bed, pushing off his blankets and blinking rapidly at you in disbelief. He rubs his eyes once, twice, but it still seems like he can’t believe what he’s seeing (and hearing). His mouth opens and closes, before finally saying, “Excuse me?”

You arch a brow, slightly confused as to why Seokjin seemed so astonished. “What? Do you not want ten wishes for your birthday?”

Seokjin shakes his head, looking like a possessed bobblehead with how quickly he moves. “No, of course I do! I just… You trust me enough to make ten wishes? Me?”

You cringe. “Well, trust is a strong word…”

“I knew it!” Seokjin scoffs, pointing at you accusingly. He flops back onto the bed, a deep pout on his face. “My ten wishes are probably gonna be stuff like ‘No cooking duties for a month!’ or something equally as lame.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, yes that could be one of your wishes if you so desired. But no, you can ask for fun stuff too.”

Seokjin raises a finger. “Oh really? Then how about—”

“No wishes that will allow you to attain world domination,” you interrupt, watching amusedly when he immediately deflates.

“Aww,” Seokjin mutters, dropping his finger. A second later, he raises the same finger again. “Then—”

“And no bodily augmentations as well,” you add.

Seokjin looks down at his crotch dejectedly. “Aww!” Seokjin repeats. ”Then what else am I supposed to ask for?!”

You shrug, tapping your chin. “Well, is there anything else in that empty skull of yours that you might want? There should be something you want that you can’t have.”

For a moment, Seokjin’s expression turns cloudy, like he usually does when he’s thinking deeply about something. It might have been the trick of the morning light, but you swear he gives you a quick once over, tongue poking out to wet his chapped lips. “I have an idea,” he says, voice low.

You feel your palms begin to sweat, unused to the dark look on Seokjin’s face. Anticipation fills you as you both stare at each other, neither willing to back down. “Y-yes?” you say, suddenly nervous to hear his response.

He smirks, tilting his head with contemplation. “I want…”

What? What do you want? You squeeze your fists unknowingly, forcibly keeping yourself from squeezing other parts of your body. Could it be..? No…

“Seokjin—”

“I want to beat Jeon Jungkook in a spicy noodle challenge. Just once in my fucking life!” Seokjin hollers, punching his pillow in the midst of his unexpected fury. His eyes are blazing, cheeks puffed up due to his unbridled hamster-y rage. “That little bunny bitch! Thinks he’s hot shit just because he can eat two more cups of spicy ramen more than me? Well, I want him to finally get a taste of his own medicine!”

You feel your shoulders sag in relief, wondering where on earth your brain had been going just a moment ago. “You… You want to get a spice resistance potion? Yeah, I can do that for you. Give me a second,” you say, dashing out of his room like your ass is on fire, afraid that he might notice the blush dusting the tops of your ears. You mentally slap yourself, biting the insides of your cheeks to keep from strangling yourself. Keep it together, Y/N. Remember how much of an idiot he is and you’ll be fine… Just don’t think too hard about it.

Lucky for Seokjin, spice resistance potions are quick enough to make and it only takes you 10 minutes to cork the finished concoction for him. You scurry back to his bedroom, about to hand the small vial over to him when the words get caught in your throat. You’re momentarily paralyzed by the sight of his naked back, his ocean-wide broad shoulders on full display for your wandering eyes to feast on. Naked Seokjin isn’t even a rare occurrence in your household, but it doesn’t get easier to witness even as the days go by. In fact, you guess it only gets harder for you, pun intended.

Thankfully (or unthankfully), Seokjin slips on a clean shirt before turning to you, his expression lighting up when he sees you (with your mouth still fully agape) with the potion in hand. “Nice one, Y/N!” He takes the vial from you, peering at the minty green color with glee. “Oh damn, when I see that little shithead, he’s not gonna know what hit him!”

“Are you gonna go challenge him today?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’d rather spend my birthday doing other things. Plus, I already have better ideas for the remaining nine wishes I have left.”

“Such as?”

He pats your head a little condescendingly, a devious smirk playing on his lips. “No need to worry your little head, Y/N. You don’t even need to work for four wishes, because I know for a fact that you have these potions in your stock,” he says, laughing maniacally as he scampers off to your basement storage.

“Seokjin!” You call out to him, wondering not for the first time how he always manages to outrun you despite doing nothing all day except eat sunflower seeds and play videogames all day. Though you assume it might have to do with his rodent DNA, as the little shit always did manage to slip from your fingers when you’re strangling holding him in his tiny furry form.

When you get to your cellar, you find him rummaging through your stores and softly humming a tune as he takes his time sorting through your potions. You try to peek over his shoulders to see what he’s doing, but it’s a lost cause as his entire frame somehow manages to block your entire view. Fuck him and his doorframe shoulders.

“Hey, I heard that!” Seokjin says, making you realize belatedly that you did say it out loud—not that you particularly cared if he heard. You’ve thought and said worse, plus he knows it. He thrives on being an asshole.

“Can you at least tell me what you want? I can find them for you too, as long as they aren’t… too dangerous,” you say the last part skeptically, not knowing what is categorized as “dangerous” when it comes to him. For all you know, he could somehow find a way to kill a man with a healing potion.

“No, no. I got it. Here,” he hands you a medium-sized vial filled with a colorless liquid. When you turn the bottle over, you see that you labeled it as one of your hair color changing mood potions, a popular novelty potion that you sold to kids at the market sometimes.

“Why on earth would you want this?” You snort. “Let me guess… You want to feed this to Yoongi so that you can anticipate whenever he’s about to scratch your eyeballs?”

“Close, but not quite! I want you to drink it,” Seokjin says, poking his head out of the cupboard to give you a quick smile. He winks at you, which you do not return. “Come on then. Drink up!”

You squint at him incredulously. When he doesn’t seem to be joking, you exclaim, “Hold on. Why on earth do you want me to drink this?”

But Seokjin has already shoved his head back into the cupboard, the sound of bottles clinking together nearly drowning out his voice as he struggles to find the other potions he’s looking for. “No particular reason! I just never see you with crazy hair colors and I always wondered how you’d look like in pink. I think it’d suit you.”

You flush darkly in response, stammering loudly at his brazenness. “But pink is the color for…” You trail off, embarrassment short-circuiting your brain. No way he could mean… that, could he?!

“Pink is for happiness, right?” Seokjin says after a moment, not noticing your awkward demeanor as he finally exits the cupboard, three other bottles cradled carefully in his arms. He closes the wooden door with his foot, walking out of the cellar with his prizes and not bothering to check if your dumbfounded self is following suit.

It takes a second for you to snap out of your stupor, yelping when he nearly slams the basement door on your face. “No, you idiot! Yellow is for happiness! Oh Merlin, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” you curse, treading closely on his heels.

Seokjin looks at you with confusion, but he thankfully doesn’t ask what specific mood the color pink represents. “Well, I guess you’re gonna have to live with yellow hair all day.”

“And why is that?” you say lamely.

“Because I’ll get to see how happy you are to be with me! After all, I am so incredibly handsome,” Seokjin laughs haughtily. He waits for you to open the door back to the house, his resounding laughter sounding even louder when you both enter, given the acoustics of your home.

“Then I guess my hair will be blue all day instead,” you scoff, pinching him lightly in the side.

“Oh? Because you’re sad that you can’t be as pretty as me? Understandable,” he nods sagely. “Or perhaps you’ll turn green with envy because you can’t be as pretty as me? Or even orange with fear, because you can’t be as pretty as—”

After living with him for so long, you’ve long since developed the ability to mute him out without needing to plug your ears with anything. It’s a necessary skill that you pride yourself in having, as it allows you to live in peace with the insufferable twat. You pity anyone who has ever had to live with him for an extended period of time; dear Merlin, you hope to meet his mother someday, as she must have been incredibly powerful to birth such a beast into existence and raise him willingly, too.

“Hey, are you listening to me? Are you muting me again? ON MY BIRTHDAY? Stop that!” Seokjin whines, poking you in the cheek. You startle slightly, pointing him with an annoyed look.

“Sorry, your highness. Does that count as one of your wishes? Because I honestly don’t think I can handle listening to you ALL DAY. I may be a talented witch, but even I don’t think that’s within my capabilities.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “Whatever. Just drink the potion already, will you? Or would you rather I ask for a mind-reading potion instead?”

That shut you up quickly. You shudder at the thought of Seokjin with any sort of telepathic powers. You don’t consider yourself a saint, but you feel as though it’s your duty to keep him away from any sort of power. The world should thank you for your service, honestly.

Without further ado, you pop the cork off the bottle, downing the plasticky tasting potion in one big gulp. “Ugh. I don’t know why kids love this stuff. Tastes like shit.” You grimace, rushing to your kitchen to grab a glass of water.

On your way there, you notice your hair color begins to change from the mirror you keep above the kitchen sink. Your roots are starting to gain a light brown color, the default shade of the potion, but the color quickly drains out as you take your first sip of water. By the time the terrible taste is out of your tongue, your hair has turned completely gray. You finger your tresses, staring at its unnatural steeliness. “Well, at least we know it works. Gray means neutral if I remember correctly.”

“Damn, so this is how you’d look when you turn 50. Would still bang, not gonna lie,” Seokjin whistles, narrowly missing a jab to the stomach from you.

“No one asked for your opinion,” you retort hotly, hoping to the heavens that your hair isn’t changing color again.

Judging from Seokjin’s smirk, your prayers are useless. He cards a hand through your hair, admiring its new color. “Oh, interesting! Purple is for embarrassment, right? Wow, this is gonna be much more fun than I would have imagined!”

“A-anyway,” you slap his hand away, taking a step away from him to keep him from seeing your burning face (though it’s not like you hadn’t already been exposed anyway. Stupid magic potion.) You point to the three remaining bottles he had stolen from your basement, eager to divert the conversation away from the topic of your vulnerable emotions. “What about these? What on earth would you need—” You turn one of the bottles upside down, reading the label. “An illusion potion? Oh Seokjin, I don’t know about this one…”

Seokjin groans. “Oh, come on! The only rules you had were no world domination and no body augmentation, but you never said anything about fake body augmentation!”

“Trust you to find a loophole in any given circumstance,” you sigh, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to stall the incoming migraine (too late for that, given that the personified version of a headache happens to live with you.) “Okay, fine. Tell me what you’re gonna use it for and then I’ll decide.”

“Simple,” Seokjin snaps his fingers. He trails his hands to his ass, squeezing the globes of fat with a sad sigh. “I want people to think I have an ass thicker than Park Jimin’s.”

For some indiscernible, unconnected reason, you feel as though one of the blood vessels in your brain just popped. In any case, having a stroke might be a better fate than continuing to live in the same universe as the withered toenail in front of you. “I beg you to repeat that sentence. Think about your words first, really grasp their true meaning. Try to remember what it’s like to have functioning brain cells. Then try to repeat your words with a straight face.”

“I. Want. People. To. Think. I. Have. An. Ass. Thicker. Than. Park. Jimin’s.” Seokjin repeats, his expression as flat as his ass. “Are you happy now? Will you grant my wish, please? You said no bodily augmentations, so having the illusion that I have thick ass should be perfectly acceptable, is it not?”

“I rue the day you learned to speak the human language.” You sigh irritably, pocketing the offending potion. When Seokjin begins to protest, you silence him with a quick glare. “Don’t worry, you fucking moron. I’m only allowing you to use this potion with my supervision and I simply don’t have the time to watch you bump bubble butts with the local village thot right now,” you explain.

Seokjin nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Indeed… I will need your assistance when I walk into town once everyone sees me with my ass shots and tiddies done. The people will simply devour me in an instant.”

“Are you aware that every moment you breathe, you are poisoning the air with your toxic presence?” you say with a deadpan stare. Ignoring his indignant squawks, you take a look at the two remaining bottles. “Alright. Please fucking tell me these are at least slightly sensible choices…”

“If there’s anything I know after living with you, it’s that our definitions of ‘sensible’ vary greatly between us,” Seokjin says, and for once you couldn’t agree more. He takes the last two bottles, turning them over to show you the labels underneath. “They’re luck and truth potions, each with a dose worth one hour. And before you say anything,” Seokjin beats you to the punch, holding a finger up when it looks like you’re about to protest, “These aren’t for me.”

You scrunch your brow in confusion, not quite following his logic. “What? Then what’s the point?”

Seokjin’s grin is mischievous, the twinkle in his eye sending a shiver down your spine. You’re familiar with that look, as it’s the same kind of expression he has whenever he plans to do something incredibly stupid, like eating uncooked noodles before pouring boiling water down his throat in order to eat instant ramen faster. You’ve been at the victim of too many of his ridiculous schemes to not know that whatever he is planning can’t be innocent.

“It’s simple, my dear Y/N. This is all part of my ingenious master plan that I thought of ten minutes ago,” Seokjin explains, tittering haughtily like some poorly designed video game villain. “Hold the applause, because my plan is going to rock your socks off.”

“I’m not even wearing any socks.”

“Then my plan will put socks on you, my dear. That’s how incredible it is,” Seokjin says, undeterred. “So basically, we’re finally going to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck.”

Seokjin pauses for dramatic effect, waving his hands around like a magician would, except the only magical act he’s ever performed was to be born as the first-ever living creature without a functioning brain. “Well?” he prompts, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you not going to ask me how I’m going to do it?”

Your expression morphs from confusion, to incredulity, to frustration, to acceptance all in five seconds flat. You’ve long since realized that it’s easier not to ask too many questions for the sake of your mental health, though you suppose it might be important to ask a few questions, mostly for the sake of your friends’ safety. You’ve lost enough acquaintances as it is, all because your familiar with rocks for brains wouldn’t know decency if you shoved it up his ass.

(PS: No, they aren’t dead, but they’ve told you that Seokjin makes them feel like death anyway. That’s just the sort of effect he has on people.)

“Fine, I’ll bite. What’s your ingenious plan to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck entail?” you ask, gritting your teeth in preparation to withstand the pure, unadulterated strength of his dumbassery.

“Well firstly, I need the luck potion to win rock, paper, scissors against Yoongi,” Seokjin starts, smirking at the thought. “It’s been my dream to beat him at the game, as the score right now between the two of us is 349 to null in his favor—”

“That’s just because you always play paper. Consistently. You never use scissors or rock,” you deadpan.

Seokjin gasps, holding a finger up to your lips to silence you. “I am above using rocks! I am no barbarian! And do you think I’d ever use scissors? That is just one step away from me throwing up a peace sign like some sort of weeb!” Seokjin retorts, nose upturned in the air. You struggle to keep your fists by your sides, the itch to punch him in his perfectly sculpted nose growing by the second.

“Regardless, I intend to win this time,” Seokjin continues. “And I will make him take the truth potion as my prize for winning so that he may finally confess his feelings for Namjoon and end their five-year-long mutual suffering.”

“Don’t you mean mutual pining?”

“Same thing,” Seokjin shrugs. “You and I both know that those two idiots will continue to skirt around each other like teenagers who only just realized that their penises can be used in different ways other than for pissing. They’ve been in love with each other for far too long and I intend to be the cupid that brings those two together.”

“Why must you phrase things like that,” you sigh, not really asking with the intent of hearing an answer. You’ve been asking him the same question for months now, and have yet to receive an answer that isn’t “because I can!”

“So does that mean you’ll let me use the luck and truth potions?” Seokjin asks, his lip jutted out in what he probably presumes is a cute manner, but all it does is make him look like his bottom lip got stung by a hornet. (Still kinda cute though, you think to yourself.)

After taking another five seconds to deeply access the state of your life, you sigh tiredly, feeling weary beyond your years. Figures that he would notice the attraction between your two best friends, but still remains oblivious to your own feelings.

“Fine,” you acquiesce, crossing your arms in an attempt to look annoyed. You aren’t doing a very good job, however, as you try not to smile at Seokjin’s unabashed excitement. Fuck him for being so adorable when he’s happy. Why couldn’t he be excited over more normal things, like R-18 video games or hentai?

You clear your throat, stopping his celebration. “Do you really want to spend your birthday getting Namjoon and Yoongi to get together though? Pardon me for saying this, but I seriously didn’t think you’d want to help them.”

“Why not?”

“You always seemed a little too enthusiastic whenever the two of them were being...” you pause, stuck on the word you want to use.

“Super stupidly horny for each other? Yeah, I admit that I do enjoy watching Namjoon getting a boner whenever Yoongi does that weird cat thing,” he says, shrugging.

“Weird cat thing? You mean when he stretches and his entire torso grows twice as long?”

“Precisely!” Seokjin claps his hands, grinning ear to ear. “It’s super gross and weirdly cute! I don’t know how Namjoon finds that even remotely horny-inducing. Must be a cat person thing.”

You shake your head, unwilling to think deeper about the psychological mechanisms of your friends. “Besides the point. Do you want to head over to Namjoon’s place now? They invited us for dinner tomorrow to celebrate your birthday anyway, so we can always do this next time, or…”

“Hell no,” Seokjin is quick to interject, knowing that you're just trying to weasel your way out of being an accomplice in his ill-planned hijinks. Your shoulders slump in defeat. "You are not getting out of this. We are doing this today before either of us forget! C'mon, it won't take that long."

"That's what I was afraid you'd say," you grumble. "But fine. Just gimme a sec to get ready," you point at Seokjin's ahegao printed pajamas with disgust, "—and you should probably change out your clothes too."

Seokjin looks down at his clothes with a confused expression. "What's wrong with my PJs?"

"I think the more important question is what's wrong with you," you reply, stalking off to your bedroom. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear his squawks of offense.

As you hadn't gotten sleep the night before, you only just notice that you're still wearing yesterday's clothes on your back, the sweat after hours of worrying about what to get Seokjin making your shirt stick grossly to your armpits. You strip off quickly, doing your best to freshen up and look semi-decent (though there isn't much of a need; you've been friends with Namjoon long enough that he's seen you at your worst.)

You pass by your dresser, seeing your reflection in the mirror. Your hair color is shifting from yellow to brown at a rapid pace, making it appear as though you'd been the victim of a terrible dye job.

"I'm a victim, for sure..." you mutter to yourself, fingering your multi-colored locks. The brown color is for annoyance, which shouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone, but the yellow? Happiness isn’t exactly the word you’d describe your emotions right now. And also, do your eyes deceive you? Is there a patch of pink appearing just at the crown of your head?

“No, no… This is no good at all.” You force yourself to think of sad thoughts, trying desperately for the colors to change—but to no avail. Luckily, that hamster bastard doesn't remember what pink means, or else you'd definitely be screwed, and maybe not even in the good way.

You sigh tiredly, slumping over onto your bed when the fatigue from the day finally hits you. “It’s only morning, and I already want to die. Must be a record,” you snort in exasperation, watching as the tips of your hair turn black in response. “Wow, thanks magic. No one would have guessed I was tired unless you said so,” you mutter sarcastically.

You never thought that you were much of a tsundere, but you're starting to understand the appeal. People knowing your emotions so easily is disconcerting, to say the least. You'd rather die than let Seokjin know that his stupid little antics actually do make you happy, since spending time with him doing pretty much anything is always a good time. It's just... someone has to hold the brain cell in the relationship, and you never would have expected that you'd be the wielder majority of the time.

When you step out back into the living room feeling more refreshed, Seokjin is ready to go. Which is to say, he hasn't moved a single inch from where he was standing just ten minutes ago.

"You bitch! I told you to get dressed," you snap. You pull him by the ear, making the 179 cm adult man whine like a little baby. "Take your clothes off!"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he wheezes, still grimacing from the throbbing pain from where you had tugged his lobe. He tries to wink at you but fails tremendously. He looks like he’s having a funky lil seizure instead. "Just transform me into my animal form and let me ride in your pocket. It's too cold out to walk! You know how sensitive my nipples are! They turn into ping pong balls when it's winter."

"I don't care. Please stop using me as your personal taxi service; you've shat in the pockets of two of my coats already," you grumble, but your pleas remain unheard. He pouts, and your feeble willpower disintegrates immediately at the sight. You sigh, "But since it's your birthday, I won't complain about it this time."

"You literally just complained though?"

You ignore him. You outstretch your finger, ready to boop. "Alright, gimme your nose, wench."

Instead of coming closer as you expected, Seokjin just gives you a contemplative look. Never a good sign. "Actually, that gives me an idea..."

"Oh, dear Merlin. Not another one of those. Please spare me," you groan.

"This one is easy though!" Seokjin tuts, bonking you on the head. You hear something click in the back of your skull, but now is not the time to ponder about such trivialities. He continues, "Instead of my nose being my transformation point... Do you think you could—"

"I am not making your penis your transformation point," you interrupt.

"—make my butt my transformation point? Wait, hold on, nevermind. I think I like your idea better," Seokjin jumps in excitement, but his mirth dies when he sees your unimpressed stare. "Okay, fine. No penis touching. But butts! You touch my butt all the time anyway! It shouldn't be that different."

"Yeah, but I only touch your ass so often because you beg me to punch and massage it in hopes of it becoming bigger. Which, by the way, isn't a real thing. You should do squats instead or something."

Seokjin gasps, scandalized. "Me? Working out? Please, that's as improbable as Yoongi turning into a regular-sized person!"

"I'm telling Yoongi you said that," you roll your eyes. "And to answer your question, no I won't switch your transformation point to your—" Wait, hold the phone. That gives you an idea. A glorious plan, something that might finally teach him a lesson.

No way in hell he would fall for that, though, you think idly to yourself. You’d be too obvious! Unless..?

"What is it?" Seokjin asks, confused when you suddenly stop speaking. He gazes curiously at the way your eyes are glazed over, concerned when he sees the way the corners of your lips twitch slightly. "What's up with you?"

You snap out of your reverie, your mischievous thought quickly cementing itself in your mind. Seokjin may be a chaotic shithead, but so are you. No one can endure living with Kim Seokjin for long without gaining a few shithead genes in the process, and you're no exception. This will teach him to be a little more conscientious, you hope. It's a pipedream, but as they say... Reach for the moon, and if you miss, then at least you'll get swallowed up by a black hole and turn into spaghetti.

"Nothing. Just had a thought, thot." You whistle innocently, barely holding down your grin when Seokjin stares at you suspiciously. Fortunately, your hair color hasn't given you away. To be fair, you didn't know light blue was the color for being a jackass either; you learn something new every day. "Nevermind that. I changed my mind. I'll grant your wish. After all, it is your birthday."

"That's right!" Seokjin exclaims, but there's a note of uncertainty and nervousness in his tone. He squints at you, pursing his lips. "Aha... Of course, it's only right that you give me what I want. It's what you promised, after all."

"Yes, yes... What Seokjin wants, Seokjin gets..." You trail off, your mind preoccupied as you hurriedly go over to your kitchen cupboard. You aren't sure if you kept them or not, so it takes you a few moments of sifting through all the bottles of herbs before you find it in the back, where it has gained a thin layer of dust all over it. You wipe it off, humming in victory when you see that it's exactly what you need.

You take a quick look at the bottom of the bottle, pleased to see that Namjoon had forgotten to label it, like always. But you remember what it is, even though you've never really quite needed to use this particular herb. He had given it to you as a strange novelty item a long time ago: it was an ingredient for obscure potions that were never really ordered at regular magical apothecaries, which is why it had remained untouched in your cupboard until today.

By itself, it has strong magical properties too, or rather... You suppose it would be more accurate to call them side effects. It has an incredibly confounding side effect that some might consider dangerous, which is why it's important to handle this herb with the proper protective equipment. Not that Seokjin would know that, of course.

"Here," you say, handing over the innocuous-looking bottle to Seokjin. He peers at it, turning it over to look for the nonexistent label.

"What is this? Weed?" he murmurs, popping the lid open and taking a tentative sniff. "Doesn't smell like it," he says, raising a brow in confusion. You let out a small giggle, but thankfully, he doesn't notice your slip up.

"Nah, it's called the Baliktad herb. I remember that Namjoon had given it to me ages ago, and it's coincidentally something you can use to... transfer magic from one body part to another." You choose your words carefully, though it's not like you're lying, anyway. Vagueness is the first step in deceit, after all.

"Really? How does it work?"

"Simple! All you have to do is grind some of the herbs into a powder, mix it with some water to form a paste, then rub it on your nose and your butt. Wait a few seconds and poof!"

Seokjin nods, intrigued. "Wow, I've never heard of this thing before. Are there other uses for this? Say, what if I rubbed some of it on my dick instead—"

"Oh shut the fuck up and give me that," you grab the bottle back, glaring at his impish face. "You know what? I can't trust you to administer it on yourself. Lemme make the paste and I'll rub it on you."

"That sounds hot," Seokjin winks, barely dodging your kick to his nuts. "Hey, hey! Feet off the prize, darling! My balls are where the ladies get their babies."

To stop yourself from screaming, you keep your mouth shut this once. Besides, you're too excited for what you're about to do to him, so keeping silent is a small price to pay. All of it will be worth when you finally give him a taste of his own medicine. Or rather, a smell of his own medicine.

When you finish grinding the herb into a paste, you clear your throat, gesturing for Seokjin to sit on the couch. "Alright, let me put some on your honker first before I get to your ass. And no, you better not make some 'ass is grass' joke."

Seokjin visibly deflates. "Hey, what the fuck? You stole my joke before I even said it! I guess that's soulmate culture for you," he sighs dreamily, before yelping loudly when you shove two gloved fingers up his nostrils. "Hey! What was that for!"

"Oh, sorry," you apologize unapologetically. "I was just worried that if I slathered it on top of your nose, I might accidentally trigger your transformation, so I took the safer route it jammed it up your nostrils instead."

"Whatever happened to a gentlelady's touch..." he whines, scowling petulantly at you. "Wait, if you're gonna jam it up my nostrils, then does that you're also gonna jam it up my—"

Before he can finish his sentence, you push him down onto his stomach, kneeling on his back and literally stealing his breath away. "Aight, rat. I'm shoving your pants down now," you warn gruffly. He makes a winded sound, probably a snarky response that would have made you slap his nuts. Fortunately, your legs were currently crushing his windpipe and leaving him incapable of speaking.

It's funny how you’ve become numb to the sight of his naked ass at this point. Once upon a time, you had blushed constantly at the sight of his sweet cheeks, making for an awkward first two months of living together. Every time you close your eyes, the two globes would be imprinted underneath your lids, haunting you. Nowadays, you'd be more concerned if he wasn't wearing his signature "God Won't Let Me Die" booty shorts.

Also, despite what he says, he isn't completely assless. He has a substantial amount of cake, certainly nothing to scoff at. You grumble and moan about "having" to massage his ass, but honestly? Who wouldn't want to grab his ass? You might be stupid, but you aren't an idiot.

“The salve is going to be cold, by the way,” you warn, though it’s useless to say at this point since he already experienced it when you shoved up his nose just two minutes ago. Whatever.

Unlike then, you are much gentler applying the salve on his butt this time, mostly out of fear that 1) you'd accidentally penetrate his asshole with your finger like that one time (don't ask), or 2) you'd massage his butt like you know he wants you to.

“Harder, mommy,” he fake moans, wiggling his ass. You almost slap him on instinct, but think better of it.

"I hate that you're such a... debauched cretin," you say, tenderly rubbing his ass with a scowl. If any bystander were to see you, they'd might have thought you were his kind girlfriend rubbing medicine on a bruise or massaging your poor fatigued boyfriend. One might have even thought you were rubbing him a little bit too sensually, but little do people know... You were playing a stupid little prank on your dumbass familiar that may or may not cause him to beat you up (not that it would be much of a punishment to you, anyway. They don’t write romances like these anymore, huh?)

He taps you on the thigh, and you guess that he’s probably having difficulty breathing from your weight on his back. Feeling kinda bad for him, you shift your legs over, choosing to straddle him instead. However, the regret from your decision comes instantaneously the moment he regains his breath.

"You love me, though. You think I'm funny," Seokjin replies, albeit his voice is still a little strained under your weight. "You think I'm cute, too."

Yeah, you do. "I think your hamster form is cute. Get that shit out of your head," you scoff, but your heated cheeks betray you.

“I can’t see you right now, but I bet your hair is an insane shade of purple, isn’t it?” he teases, wiggling like a worm to express his glee.

“Fuck you,” you grouse. You slap his thigh twice in retribution: the first one for teasing you, and the second one for pretending to moan after you had slapped him the first time.

He was only half-right about your hair, anyway. You catch a glimpse of your pastel purple and pink hair from the corner of your eye, alarmingly visible for all to see. Honestly, it doesn’t take a lot of brainpower to figure out what pink actually means, most especially since you have never been subtle with your affections for him. After all, not everyone has the patience to keep up with his antics. The fact that you haven’t squashed him into a tiny hamster pancake is proof enough that you really do love him.

I mean, who else would give Kim Seokjin ten wishes on his birthday? That's giving him way too much power that no one should be comfortable with. Just goes to show that maybe like attracts like, sometimes. You must be a little crazy too, you suppose.

He’s never caught on to your feelings, however, as he probably thinks you’re more like an annoying younger sister or something. After all, you bicker with him more than anything else, but that’s just how it is on this bitch of an earth.

Luckily or unluckily for you, Seokjin doesn’t comment on your hair color when he sits up after you finish rubbing the herbs onto his gooch. He’s much too busy wrinkling his nose in confusion, his forehead scrunching as the herbs are presumably starting to take effect.

“How am I supposed to know when the herbs work?” he asks, scratching his nose. The salve has dried out considerably, turning more into flecks that fall off when he disturbs it. So now, it looks like he has disgusting leathery boogers hanging out from his nostrils. Somehow, he makes it work anyway.

“Oh, you’ll know,” you respond vaguely, smiling when you can tell that Seokjin’s suspicions are beginning to grow. “Want me to test it out?”

Seokjin nods, leaning closer and presenting you with his nose. You tap him gently on the tip (lol), both of you waiting for the scent of caramel and mint to signal his shift. When nothing comes, Seokjin gasps in elation, clapping his hands gleefully as he bounces up and down in his seat.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe that worked! I was so sure you were gonna prank me… I overestimated you,” he says haughtily, pointing his stupid nose up in the air. He guffaws, standing up and wagging his ass at you smugly. “C’mon, then! Slap my ass and let’s see if it really works!”

You don’t move immediately, disappointed when the actual effect of the herb doesn’t seem to be working. You pout, observing him skeptically. “Wait, hold on. Are you sure you don’t feel weird?”

His victory hoots come to an abrupt halt. “No? Why would I be?”

“Don’t you… smell anything odd?”

Seokjin looks at you weirdly. “No? Unless you count not smelling my transformation scent, then—wait, just a second.” He freezes up, sniffing the air with a disgusted expression on his face. “Shit, you’re right! There’s something super funky in the air. You didn’t fuck up my sense of smell or something, did you?”

“Nope,” you say, popping your p. Your smirk grows, breathy giggles escaping you. “Say, can you describe what you’re smelling?”

“Oh Merlin, it’s terrible! It smells like shit? Like fucking… like ass or something!” He grimaces, sticking his tongue out as he is assaulted by the stench that only he can smell. “What the fuck is that? Oh my fucking word…”

You’re breaking into full out laughter at this point, nearly falling over onto the floor from the strength of your mirth. You barely hear Seokjin’s squawks of bewilderment, ignoring his demands to tell him what you had done to him.

“I can’t believe it worked,” you wheeze, hunched over on your knees. You’re spraying spit everywhere from your hysterics, though you are exaggerating your delight a little just to piss Seokjin off. You point and scream at his face, hollering like a banshee until he finally grabs your wrists to make you stop.

“Out with it! What the hell did you do to me?” he shouts, shaking you roughly with unhinged eyes.

It takes you a moment to respond, unable to breathe through your giggles. “You—you’re fucking—smelling your own—wheeze—your own ass!”

Seokjin stares at you, dumbfounded. “What?!”

“Your—HAHA—your fucking ass! I switched your nose to your ass, you idiot! Just like you asked!”

Seokjin’s jaw drops, complete bafflement and betrayal on his expression. He backs away from you, shaking his head slowly with bugged-out eyes as he begins to fully understand the weight of your treachery. “You,” he seethes, venom dripping from that singular word. He sounds like a pet owner about to scold their dumbass cat for eating his prized plastic big booby women figurines or something.

You grin sweetly back at him, batting your eyelashes for extra effect. “Me? What about me?”

You don’t even have the reflexes to dodge him when he lunges for you, grabbing your neck and strangling you. “You bitch! How could you do this to me on my birthday!”

“Hehehe…” you wheeze, sounding even more goblin-ish with his grip on your throat. “You underestimated me, bastard. You asked for your ass to become your transformation point, and I did. You never said I couldn’t make transfer your sense of smell, too.”

“I didn’t ask you to make me smell my own ass! This is fucking garbage!” he yells, letting you go. You gasp for breath, but you’re still shaking with laughter at the absolutely deranged look in his eyes. He looks like an ape that was recently set free from his enclosure and out onto the streets.

“That’s what you get for not wiping your ass, then!” you retort, sticking your tongue out petulantly.

“Well, we can’t go to Namjoon’s house when all I can smell is my own fucking ass! Merlin, I should’ve downed the luck potion when you left to get changed, but I wanted to be A GOOD PERSON and so decided against it,” he sniffs, utterly irked by this turn of events. “I’m never going to be a moral person again!”

“When have you ever been one? I wasn’t even aware you had a conscience,” you say. “Wait, that reminds me. I’ll be taking these until we go to Namjoon’s, then!” You grab the luck and truth potions, keeping them behind your back. Seokjin immediately tries to grab them, but you’re quick to punch him in the gut with your free hand.

“Ooph! You’re such a meanie—aw shit!” Seokjin screams, holding his hands to his nose instinctively. “Fuck! That was a dirty move! You know hitting my stomach makes me fart! I can’t even cover my nose!”

“Hey, maybe for your next wish, you should ask for some cake. Then maybe we can recreate the cake farts video,” you suggest, mostly as a joke. But of course, you shouldn’t have been surprised when Seokjin starts to seriously contemplate your offer.

“Hmm… I was gonna ask for cake next, but now you’re making me really want cake now,” he hums, shrugging you off when you hit him in retaliation. “What? Why do you keep hitting me?! You’re the one who said it, not me! We might as well turn lemons into lemonade!”

“It was a fucking joke, you moron! I’m seriously going to eat you if you don’t stop being weird—”

“Oh shit, how do you keep reading my mind? Vore was gonna be my next wish too—”

“Shut up!” you hiss, your ears perking up. “I think I heard something from outside.”

You were both so busy bickering with each other that you hadn’t noticed that the doorbell had been ringing for the last minute or so. You both freeze, hearing the shrill sound of the bell going off, followed by three loud knocks. “Hello? Y/N? Are you home?” a familiar voice calls out. “It’s me, Taehyung!”

“Taehyung?” you shriek, staring incredulously at the door. He isn’t meant to visit until the end of the month to pick up refills for his grandfather’s medication. What could he need all of a sudden? “H-hold on! Gimme one sec!”

You’re only two steps away from answering the door when a growl (a squeal? Can hamsters growl?) stops you in your tracks. You slowly turn back to Seokjin, your blood running cold when you remember his blatant dislike for this particular customer. In fact, his aversion towards Taehyung runs so deep that you never allow him to stay in his human form around him lest he begins cursing him out like a sailor.

It doesn’t help, however, that Taehyung only ever sees him in his hamster form and constantly coos at him like a pet. You’ve had to apologize numerous times for the dozens of bites all over his hands and arms, but Taehyung always laughs it off, too oblivious to realize that a two-inch hamster wants to suffocate him with his own mullet.

There seems to be no discernable reason as to why Seokjin loathes Taehyung with such passion, though you’ve always suspected that it’s because he feels threatened by people prettier than him. You’d be the last person to admit to him that he’ll always be the prettiest in your eyes, especially since it would only make him ten times more insufferable.

Until then, Taehyung is just going to have to deal with a murderous, psychotic furball coming for his life.

Aforementioned psychotic furball takes a step towards the front door, but you’re quick to block his path. “Don’t you dare,” you warn, but you can already sense Seokjin’s hackles rising.

“I know what I want for my next wish,” Seokjin responds instead, disregarding your order.

“Overruled. I’m not letting you kick Taehyung in the nuts,” you say, hands poised to attack. You’re about to smack him on the nose when you realize that it’s not going to work this time. “Fuck! Give me your ass! I am not letting you get away with murder for your birthday!”

“I’ll give you my ass next time, darling. For now, I must defeat my sworn enemy, once and for all!” he howls, making a mad dash towards the door. “I’ll kill you, pretty boy! Only one person can be pretty, and it’s going to be me!”

He may be quicker than you on a regular day, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gives you enough speed to land a loud, fat slap on his ass before he can even think to twist the doorknob open. Seokjin yelps in surprise as he turns towards you with a betrayed look in his eyes, before promptly being swallowed up by pink smoke and leaving an aggressive ball of fur where he once stood.

“Squeak! Squeak squeak squeak squeak!!” he squeaks, and you’ve long since learned his mannerisms well enough that you know that he just said “Y/N! I’ll fucking kill you!!” or something to that effect.

You pick him up gently into your hands, shushing him to no avail. “Fine, if you’re going to be that way—” you hiss, glaring at him when he gives you a haughty squeak. “—then I’ll just have to...yah!” you yell, hucking him across your living room and (safely) onto the couch.

(Caution: Do not do this to your hamsters. Seokjin is a magical hamster and is unnaturally sturdy, even in hamster form. He is an outlier and should not be counted. Plus, he deserves it.)

With Seokjin out of the way, you finally manage to get the door open without trouble. You greet Taehyung with a smile, although you do not doubt in your mind that you must look a bit worse for wear. Like the gentleman that he is, Taehyung doesn’t comment on your haggard appearance.

“Hey, Y/N. Sorry for intruding without notice. May I come in?” he asks. You nod a little too enthusiastically, stepping aside and allowing him into your abode. You glance at the couch, gasping quietly when you don’t see Seokjin anywhere.

“Shit,” you curse lowly, to which Taehyung turns to you with a confused look.

“Pardon?” He must have mistaken your agitation to be directed towards him, as he bows to you apologetically. “Sorry again, you must be busy with other things today, but I’m in desperate need of a refill.”

“A refill?” you ask, semi-distracted as your eyes flit around the room, desperately searching for the small brown ball undoubtedly zipping around right under your nose. “What for? Is your grandfather doing okay?”

“Yes, ol’ pops is doing fine. I’m here to ask for a refill for… the other thing,” he coughs, cheeks darkening ever so slightly. His embarrassed tone breaks you from your search for Seokjin, forcing your gaze on him instead.

“The other thing? What do you mean—oh,” you interrupt yourself, finally understanding his meaning. “That thing.”

Taehyung nods frantically, hiding his face in his hands. “S-sorry, I know I asked for that potion as a one-time thing, but I met this new girl who’s really energetic, and let’s just say that I’m not keen on disappointing her when we’ve only started dating.”

You chuckle lightly, patting him on the back. “No need to explain, Tae. I’m not here to judge you. Besides, I just hope this girl doesn’t accidentally kill you like the previous one. Didn’t you say you went at it for three days straight?”

Taehyung groans, his flush growing until it reaches the back of his neck. “D-don’t even remind me about that! I accidentally took two doses of the potion that time and I was wishing for death by the seventh hour. I swear, I thought my dick was gonna turn into a raisin by the end of it—”

“Squeak!”

You both turn your heads towards the shrill noise coming from somewhere in your kitchen. “Shit, I forgot! T-Tae, just stay right here! I’ll be right back.” You jog towards the source, suddenly remembering that there was a live rodent on the loose with an evil agenda and only you would be able to stop him from fulfilling his goals.

You burst inside, immediately spotting that your bottom cupboard is ajar. It’s where you keep your extra stores of potions for regular customers, but you have very little time to wonder which potion Seokjin is aiming for before you’re already ripping open the door to stop the vermin.

“Oh you fucking little ballsack,” you snarl, dismayed when you realize that you’re too late. Seokjin has already found the potion he was looking for, having opened it up and already halfway finished drinking the damn thing.

You slap him away from the bottle before he can do any more damage, smacking him hard enough that his tiny hamster body slams against the cupboard wall. You don’t miss the victorious furry grin on his face, holding up a tiny hamster thumbs up to spite you. “What the hell did you drink?” you hiss, grabbing the half-empty bottle and flipping it over to read the label. “Verbosity potion… Oh, you bastard!”

You know Seokjin has always wanted to cuss out Taehyung like it’s his life mission, but you’ve always made sure that he was safely locked away in his bedroom whenever the younger boy was over for a visit. Seokjin knows today was his only opportunity to get his way, especially since he could always weasel his way out of punishment by using his birthday as an excuse.

“If you say even one word to Taehyung, I swear I’ll—”

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Taehyung asks meekly from the living room, still standing where you had left him. He has his neck craned slightly to check up on you, but your back is thankfully blocking his view of the tiny psychopath you call your familiar.

“Y-yes! Everything’s just peachy keen,” you laugh nervously, your attention still focused on Seokjin. Your familiar has yet to make a peep, and both of you are slightly confused when he struggles to speak.

“S...squeak?” Seokjin asks, blinking in bewilderment. He looks to you for an explanation, but you’re as lost as he is. Not to toot your own horn, but you’re one of the greatest potion makers of your generation; it’s almost unheard of for your potions to not work.

You don’t question it for now; instead, you grab Taehyung’s requested refill from the back, the red and pink label making it easy to locate. “Here you go! This should be less intense than the previous one I gave you. This one will lose its effect once you’ve… finished, to say the least,” you grimace, smiling awkwardly.

Taehyung takes it from you, shaking your hands wildly. “Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re definitely a lifesaver. I owe you one,” he says, already making his way out the door. “I’ll hand over the payment to you when I come to pick up my grandfather’s medicines at the end of the month if that’s fine with you!”

“No worries, Tae. Take care!” you call out, waving goodbye until he closes your door shut. With Taehyung gone, you instantly return to kneel in front of your cupboard, where Seokjin is still slumped over, unmoving. He looks more dazed than usual, his black eyes unseeing as he stares somewhere behind you.

“Seokjin? You alright? Can you speak?” you ask, but he doesn’t react, as if he hadn’t heard you. You wave a hand in front of his face, snapping your fingers when that doesn’t work. “Hey, smooth brain. I’m sorry for smacking you, okay? I know it’s your birthday and I should be treating you better, but you really shouldn’t snoop around in my potion stores and drink stuff without my permission.”

When Seokjin still does not reply, you decide to pick him up and place him on the floor. You tap him on the bum, waiting a few seconds until Seokjin is back to his human form. When the smoke fades, he’s still stuck in his stupor, but you notice the dark red flush creeping up his neck and ears.

“Seokjinnie? Holy shit, are you okay?” You panic slightly, holding a hand up to his forehead and gasping when you feel the sharp rise in his body temperature. He is definitely feverish, and you’re worried that he might have had some allergic reaction to the potion or something. “Shit, are you getting a rash? Sweetie, can you hear me? Say something, please.”

“Y/N,” he rasps, licking his lips. His pupils are undilated to an unnerving degree, and his breathing is ragged. He stands up unsteadily, wobbling in place. “Fuck, I don’t really feel well.” His voice is deep, speaking unusually slower. You shudder involuntarily, fearful and intrigued all at once.

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Seokjin could seriously be in danger right now! Now is not the time to get horny! “Seokjin, explain how you feel. I’ll try to figure out what antidote I should make in case you actually did accidentally poison yourself with something,” you say hurriedly, going over to your stove and grabbing a spare cauldron from its rack. You’re grabbing random herbs and chucking them into a pot, too preoccupied and worried to hear Seokjin groan behind you.

“I feel… hot. And not in a sexy way,” Seokjin whimpers, curling into himself. There is sweat lining the edge of his brow, despite the house being relatively chilly due to the cold weather. “Okay, maybe a little bit in a sexy way.”

“Well if you can still joke about it, then it shouldn’t be life-threatening, whatever this is,” you say. Seokjin coughs out a laugh, but even that makes him cringe from the discomfort.

You decide to check the potion he had drank and see what ingredients you had used, as it usually will tell you how to make a reverse for it. When you grab the bottle, it only just hits you that the color of the potion is a little off than you remember. If you remember correctly, verbosity potions are usually a pale yellow color, but this one has a darker and deeper tone. In fact, you could see flecks of red sediment floating around, something that you recognize as wyvern blood.

Hold on… Verbosity potions don’t require wyvern blood. Very few potions require it at all, and the only one you can think of that would need it is none other than—

“Oh fucking shit,” you curse for what feels like the twentieth time in this story. You whip your head to face Seokjin, whose entire upper body seems to be bathed in a deep red flush. He’s panting in earnest now, tongue lolling out as he fights the fever consuming him. Little does he know, it isn’t a regular type of fever that he’ll be able to recover with medicine. You gulp, struggling to find an explanation.

“So, umm…” You laugh hesitantly, rubbing the back of your neck with a wry smile. Seokjin peeks up at you from behind his bangs, some of it plastered to his forehead from sweat. The faraway look in his eyes has disappeared, replaced by an unsettling hunger and darkness that is uncharacteristic for the mischievous hamster shifter. You gulp. “Seokjin, I think I know what you drank and it wasn’t the verbosity potion.”

“What?” he croaks, wincing when he adjusts himself to lean on the kitchen counter. You catch sight of a bulge forming in the front of his pajama shorts, miraculously still unnoticed by Seokjin himself. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m burning up.”

The way he utters your name brings a shiver down your spine, and your familiar notices immediately. His gaze is transfixed on the exposed part of your neck, trailing over your skin until his eyes finally land on your lips. You lick them unconsciously, with Seokjin following the movement.

“Seokjin, I need you to get to bed right now. I don’t know how long this potion is going to last, but I’m gonna need you to—”

“What did you do to me?” Seokjin growls, his grip on the counter tightening to the point that he may have cracked the marble. You know he’s strong despite being a prey shifter, but you didn’t think he’d become this powerful and aggravated. You’re guessing that it might be a side effect from him drinking the potion when he was in his hamster form. He had more or less drunk the dosage required for a regular-sized human, so his smaller body size must have led to a slight overdose. This is all guesswork on your part, but hindsight isn’t going to help you right now.

“I, umm… I think I might have accidentally mislabelled the potion,” you admit reluctantly, feeling meek under his heavy presence. You’ve never felt threatened or intimidated by him before, so this is completely uncharted territory for you. You know deep in your heart that he’d never do anything to hurt you even in his inebriated state, but you would still do well to take all your precautions when approaching him. “I think… I might have given Taehyung the wrong potion, too.”

Seokjin doesn’t respond and just keeps watching you as you fidget in place. You continue, “H-he came over today because he wanted a refill, right? W-well, he actually asked for libido potion. And, so—”

“You gave me horny juice? Is that what’s happening?” Seokjin groans, crossing his legs together when he finally registers the very distinct swelling in his underwear. “Fuck,” he moans, involuntarily humping the air to search for some sort of reprieve.

You scoff, trying to keep your tone as level as possible so as not to alarm him. “What do you mean I gave you horny juice? You’re the one who drank it without permission!” you retort, but the scolding dies on your lips when Seokjin starts to grind against the counter, small gasps leaving his mouth. Your throat goes dry, and you know it’ll only be a few more moments before Seokjin’s limited control will start to slip away.

“Y-Y/N, what do I do?” he whines, giving up on the counter and weakly reaching out for you. “I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t cum right now. I-I need you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you start, your stomach swirling with arousal. His scent is stronger than usual, filling your senses with nothing but caramel, mint, and Seokjin. Even as you’re talking, you feel your resolve chipping away despite your better judgment. “You’re not thinking properly right now, and I don’t wanna take advantage of you—”

“N-no! I want it, no, I want you. I’ve always wanted you,” he pants, taking the two short steps to latch his hands on your waist. You flinch when you feel his large palms touch you, the heat palpable even through your clothes. Even with lust clouding his vision, he is gentle with you, like he’s afraid of hurting you. “I-I know you must think I’m a nuisance, and I’ve done n-nothing but annoy you these past few months, but I… I genuinely care about you a lot, Y/N. W-which is why I was so hurt when I thought you forgot my birthday, but even if you did, I was j-just happy to be living with you. Because I really lo—”

He gasps, unable to finish his thought as he accidentally tightens his grasp on you. He pulls you closer until your bodies are aligned, nuzzling into your neck. His teeth scrape your skin slightly, pulling a loud moan from you. You flush, embarrassed, but you have no time to worry about that when you feel how incredibly hard and solid he is against your stomach.

“P-please, help me? It doesn’t have to mean anything; we can forget about it after but right now, I don’t think I’m going to live past tomorrow unless I have my cock stuffing your pussy right this very moment,” he says in one breath, his hands reaching behind you to squeeze your ass. He inhales deeply, releasing it with a content sigh. “Fuck, I can already smell how wet you are. I just know my cock will stretch it out real good, just like how I always dreamed.”

“You… you dreamt of me like that?” you whisper, shocked. You don’t know why your brain latches onto that piece of information out of all the filthy things he just said, but you have to admit that the thought of him having wet dreams about you turns you on greatly.

“Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself?” He sounds incredulous, like you’d just said something completely unfathomable to him. “Fuck, do you remember when I got my rut two months ago, and I stayed with Namjoon and Yoongi so that you wouldn’t feel awkward around me? They love to tease me about the number of times I moaned your name every time I came,” he admits. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you even if I tried.”

“Fuck, Seokjinnie,” you whine, your fingers scrambling to hang onto his chest, his back, his neck—anywhere, really. Your legs feel like jelly, afraid that you might stumble from how weak you’ve become from your own arousal. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“I’m sorry I had to confess this way,” he says, caressing your hair with unexpected tenderness. He chuckles quietly, his breath tickling your neck. “But I really mean it, horny juice or not.”

Your heart squeezes inside your chest, not believing your lucky stars for allowing you to meet this wonderful boy in front of you. You can hardly believe your ears; never in your wildest dreams would you ever expect that he would also like you back.

“Seokjin, I also—” you begin, ready to spill your feelings all over the floor, but the moment is broken when Seokjin abruptly lifts you by the ass, his palms squeezing you as he barrels determinedly to his bedroom. You shriek in surprise, clutching onto his neck and holding on for dear life. “What the fuck? Seokjin, put me down!”

“No time for feelings! We can talk after we fuck,” he hoots, bouncing you onto the bed. You grunt from the impact, disoriented by the quick turn of events. Your head is spinning, so you don’t even register Seokjin’s hands peeling off your pants in one smooth motion.

A mixture of the cold air and nerves causes your legs to be littered with goosebumps. Seokjin, ever the attentive familiar, notices and rubs soothing circles all over, the heat inside of you coming back with a vengeance. “Sorry about that, baby,” he coos, massaging you. You shake your head, telling him it’s alright.

You are embarrassed when you feel how your panties stick uncomfortably against your skin, already so painfully aroused as if you had been the one affected by the potion. Your shame melts away when you see how much worse Seokjin is, however, as his nostrils flare with want.

“I’m glad my nose still works, by the way. I don’t know what I’d do if I missed the opportunity to smell your pretty pussy,” he sighs, situating himself in between your legs. He blows gently against your clothed slit, effectively causing all coherency to leave you for the night.

He watches your reactions slyly, his body heat radiating off of him in waves. For once, he looks more like predator than prey. “I know I said I was desperate to fuck you, but do you mind if I start with an appetizer first? I wanted cake today, but turns out my dessert was here all along…” he trails off, smirking when he catches the steadily growing spot on your underwear. “Oh, baby. I know you’re going to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I-I,” you stutter, shuddering with desire. You whimper pathetically as he traces your panties with a fingernail, your stomach clenching with desire. “I didn’t know you could be like this.”

“Like what?” he hums, pulling your panties off to join your discarded pants. He grins at the sight of your glistening core, wetting his lips in anticipation. “God, you’re so pretty. I could just eat you up.”

“Then why don’t you?” you reply, trying to gain some semblance of control. That silly notion is thrown out the window, however, the moment Seokjin licks a fat stripe up your cunt. “Ngnnhh, fuck!”

Seokjin moans in tandem with you, slurping you up like a starved man. “Baby, you’re just as good as I thought. I could cum from eating you out alone.” He takes a deep breath, kissing your core almost chastely. “Fuck, I know I could cum from this alone,” he amends, rubbing his clothed length against the bed sheets.

The velvety wet heat of his tongue on your dripping pussy makes you clench around nothing, ripping a scream out of you when he focuses directly on your clit. He sucks with an obscene grin on his face, holding your hips down when your entire body begins to tremble.

“So sensitive,” Seokjin says, sluggish and gravelly like he’s drunk on your taste. “So fucking sensitive. How are you real, baby?”

“Jinnie, please,” you whine, doing your best to grind on his tongue despite his iron hold on you. “I want more, please.”

Seokjin only chuckles darkly, continuing his vicious pace. “C’mon, use my tongue like you want,” he says, letting go of you and allowing you to hump his mouth with reckless abandon.

You do as he says, swirling your hips against him with reckless abandon. The heat in your abdomen steadily builds, and you know you’re only seconds away from tipping over. “I’m close, Seokjin,” you huff, chasing your high. “Please, let me cum? Can I cum, Seokjinnie?”

He nods his head, unable to respond verbally as you continue to assault his tongue. After three more licks, you release with a silent scream, writhing violently from the strength of it.

He gives your clit one last sweet peck, sitting up with a feral grin on his face. His chin is dripping with your arousal, his plump lips redder than usual. He makes a show of licking your juices around his mouth, chuckling when all you can do is swallow wantonly.

“Thank you for the meal, baby,” he teases, his lust-riddled gaze slightly clearer now that he’s had a proper taste of you. However, the glaring tent in his shorts is still painfully present, a small darkened patch visible on his crotch.

“Wan’ your cock,” you slur, boneless and blissed out but still filled with the longing for more. “Fill my cunnie until I can’t walk anymore,” you croak, pussy twitching for extra measure. Seokjin’s expression twists, his pupils widening until his eyes are pitch black.

Seokjin doesn’t waste any more time. He rips his shorts off in record time, stripping himself of his shirt as well. You remove your own shirt and bra, causing your nipples to harden from the cold air. You tweak them as you wait for Seokjin to get himself situated, hungrily appreciating his beautiful torso and god-like shoulders. “Don’t use a condom, Jinnie. I want to feel all of you,” you say when he begins to reach inside his dresser. You can physically feel his unhinged desire growing from your words, your pussy dripping in anticipation.

“Gonna fill your pretty pussy, huh? Fill you until you have my babies?” he rasps, positioning his cock in front of you. “Gonna plug you up with my cum, Y/N? Is that what you want?”

You cant your hips upward, whining when his tip only just grazes your lips teasingly. “Fuck me already,” you beg. “Want you to ruin me.”

“Who am I to deny you? Ask and you shall receive,” he grins, before slowly pushing inside. Your jaw drops at the intrusion, as it’s been a while since you’ve last gotten fucked like this. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Almost like your pussy is sucking me in,” he groans, straining to keep himself from thrusting all the way into you. “Like you’re made for me.”

“You can m-move faster. I can take it,” you whisper, eyebrows pulling together. You sound desperate to your own ears, the pain and pleasure mixing deliciously and making your cunt weep with want.

There is a moment of hesitation on Seokjin’s part, but that all drains away when he sees your determination. Without another warning, he shoves himself up to the hilt, causing you to arch your back with a loud cry.

“Fuck,” he curses, but there is still worry in his eyes. “Baby, are okay? Are you good?”

It takes you a moment to remember how to speak. “C’mon, Seokjin. Move. I can take it,” you beg.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he moans, but nods his head anyway.

Seokjin pulls back until only his tip remains inside you before slamming back harshly, hard enough that you’re sliding backward. He begins his brutal pace, his dick stretching you out nicely like he promised. You let out tiny squeaks with every pump of cock, hitting you perfectly in the spot that makes you see stars.

“Kiss me?” you gasp out in between moans, pulling him by the hair until you’re kissing him sloppily. It’s more teeth than anything, as Seokjin grunts into your mouth with every tug of his roots. You bite his bottom lip after a particularly rough thrust, but it only encourages him to pick up the pace.

You wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him as close as humanly possible. You can already feel your second orgasm approaching rapidly, your toes curling in anticipation.

“Seokjinnie, I’m gonna cum soon. Please, I can’t hold it—”

“I’m close too,” he says hotly in your ear. He sucks a bruise into your neck, moaning when he feels your pussy tighten in response. He drills into your cunt faster, the rhythm of his thrusts growing sloppy as he reaches his own release. He reaches down between the two of you, rubbing circles into your clit. “Fuck, baby. Cum with me?”

You sob his name, your muscles contracting as your body lights up with intense pleasure. Your back arches off the bed, your walls milking Seokjin dry until thick white ropes of cum start leaking in rivulets down your sopping cunt and all over your thighs. You can feel his throbbing length inside you as continuous streams of hot seed keep flowing from him, filling you to the brim.

Seokjin slowly comes to a complete halt, but he still hasn’t pulled out. “I’m gonna keep my cum in you for a moment, okay? Don’t wanna waste any of it, right?”

You can only nod tiredly in agreement, completely tuckered out. Your chest heaves from your laboured breathing, but the smile on your face can only be described as content. “Wow. Color me surprised. Didn’t think you’d wanna be a father so early,” you say hoarsely.

Now sated, Seokjin’s demeanor returns to its normal state, his aura less crazed than before. He has the decency to look embarrassed, but the twinkle in his eyes shows that he doesn’t regret it in the slightest. “I’d be more than happy to be the father of your children. We’re already going to live with each other forever, so I might as well raise your children anyway.”

“Might as well?” you laugh, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. “You make it sound like it’s your obligation. And who said I’d live with you forever?”

“Well, I mean, who else is going to love you the way that I do?” he murmurs, nuzzling your noses together. “Who else would be your annoyingly handsome hamster familiar?”

“Quite,” you grumble, allowing him to maneuver you into a more comfortable cuddling position. You kiss him properly this time, enjoying the sweet, warm pleasure of his affection. You’ve never felt so happy in your life. “Happy birthday, Seokjin. I’m sorry this isn’t the way I planned for it to go, but I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Agreed. It’s just like us, huh?” he snorts. He cushions your face against his chest, carding his fingers tenderly through your hair. “Say… Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me, what does your pink hair actually mean?”

You chuckle, snuggling deeper into his comforting scent. You feel yourself slipping into slumber, eyelids threatening to fall. You’ve always loved cuddling Seokjin, after all. But most of all...

I love you, of course. “I think you already know, genius.”

Even when the sun finishes its descent from the sky and darkness fills the room, the bright pink of your hair glows—unfaltering.

#networkbangtan #btsguild #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #seokjin smut #jin smut #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts #seokjin scenarios #kim seokjin #bts jin #bangtan #bts fanfic #i feel like i could punch the sun rn LMFAO

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

fic request because i am d e s p e r a t e : tarlos carlos whump with supportive gabriel reyes ??? if you’re down to write him that is. i love ur work n ur whump n i think u would write a p good gabe. 🥰

holly’s august extravaganza day 1: against all odds (we're still here)

i'm always down to write gabriel! thanks for the prompt trick, i hope you like it!

ao3 | 2k | car accidents, whump, major character injury, angst with a happy ending

“I told you we should have brought the car.”

Carlos scowls over at TK, shifting one of the many bags he’s carrying higher on his arm. It cuts painfully into his skin, his good mood from earlier long since soured. The knowledge that TK is, of course, right isn’t exactly helping matters.

“In my defence,” he starts, for probably the fifth or sixth time, “when we texted your dad to see if he wanted us to pick up anything from the store, I wasn’t expecting a full list.”

“We could have told him no.”

“TK, he’s your dad and we are literally crashing his home right now. I’m not gonna tell him no.”

TK opens his mouth, presumably to retort with a comment about how his dad loves Carlos and loves having them around. Both of which are things Carlos knows perfectly well, thanks, but he’s still not interested in testing it by refusing to get Owen’s kale chips or that specific brand of shampoo which took half an hour—and two stores—to track down.

Whatever TK was about to say is abandoned when one of his own bags slips out of his grasp and falls to the ground with a depressing thud. It bursts open—because why wouldn’t it—and spills their purchases across the sidewalk. The only solace is that nothing breaks, but that’s where the good news begins and ends; Carlos’s eyes track a can as it rolls down the street and into the gutter, landing in a puddle of dirty water. TK looks forlornly between the dropped bag and those still balanced on his arms, then heaves a long-suffering sigh and crouches awkwardly, easing the other bags down as carefully as he can manage.

“Call an Uber,” he grumbles. “We are not walking home like this.”

On that point, they’re in agreement. Carlos spares himself a moment of idle amusement at TK’s predicament before beginning the arduous task of extracting his phone from his pocket without dropping any of his own shopping.

He’ll hate himself for it later, but he’s so focused that the screech of tires coming around the corner barely registers as a blip on his radar. He doesn’t notice anything until TK suddenly barrels into him, throwing Carlos to the side just before something else, something heavy, crashes into them with a blinding flash of pain, and then—

Nothing.

Oh my god!

Someone call 911!

Are they even alive?

Just hold on, son, you’re going to be just fine.

Beeping.

Carlos frowns, slowly blinking his heavy eyelids open. It takes a minute to register his surroundings for what they are—a hospital room—and a further minute to notice the presence at his side. It’s his father, looking exhausted, turning his cowboy hat in his hands as he stares at the floor.

“Dad?” he croaks, wincing at the soreness in his throat. “What happened?”

His father’s head jerks up, his eyes going wide as he sees Carlos awake. “Mijo. It’s good to see you awake.”

“Dad, why am I here? What happened?”

He sighs, reaching out to pat Carlos’s arm. “There was an accident,” he explains. “A drunk driver lost control of his car and mounted the curb right where you boys were standing. He was speeding, so he hit you pretty hard. Your foot was crushed under a wheel, you have a fractured wrist, and you bumped your head when you fell so you probably have a concussion. The doctors say you should heal just fine, though, gracias a Dios.”

Carlos lifts his head to look down at his body, only just registering the casts on his arm and foot. There’s a dull ache radiating through his entire body and his head is pounding in time with his heartbeat, but he’s alive and he’ll heal. He should be happy about that, but the only thing occupying his mind is his dad’s silence on TK.

“What about TK?” he asks, part of him dreading the answer. “I remember him pushing me; is he okay?”

“He’s…” His dad hesitates, sending a cold slither of fear down Carlos’s spine. “Alive.”

Carlos stares, the beginnings of panic stealing his breath. “What does that mean?”

His father blows out a long breath. “It means you were right,” he says, meeting Carlos’s eyes. “He did push you, so he took the brunt of the hit. He suffered a serious open pelvic fracture and broken ribs, which punctured his lung. Last I heard, they managed to fix him up and they’re not expecting any further complications, but we won’t know for sure until he wakes up.”

“He hasn’t woken up?”

“Not yet. He will, you’ll see.”

“I want to see him.”

And Carlos knows what the answer will be to that—a resounding no. He also knows that he won’t be able to argue; his father is incredibly stubborn, and when he digs his heels in, there’s no moving him. But he needs to at least try—he’s not going to stop worrying about TK until he sees him, and probably not for a long time after that.

His dad sighs and fixes him with a firm look. “Carlitos, you and I both know that’s out of the question,” he says. “You’ve only just woken up, you need to give yourself time to heal before exerting your body even more. Besides, he’s in good hands and Owen is with him, so we’ll know as soon as there’s any change.”

“Joder, Papá, I know all that,” Carlos cries, frustrated, barely able to refrain from throwing his head back on the pillow. “I just hate that he’s here, hurt, and I can’t even see him.”

“Lo sé,” His dad smiles gently, something that’s probably supposed to be comforting, but really only gets on Carlos’s nerves. “Escúchame, hijo. Descansa. Cúrate. Then you can focus on TK.”

It’s easier said than done and his father knows it, but Carlos has no choice. The conversation is effectively put to an end by his dad reaching over and pressing the call button next to the bed. A nurse comes in and quickly sets about checking his vitals and asking enough questions to make Carlos’s head spin. His probable concussion becomes definite, but otherwise he’s in good shape, all things considered.

He can’t help but wish he weren’t.

Two days later, Carlos is deemed fit to be discharged, providing he has someone to help him and providing he agrees to rest and not do anything even close to strenuous. TK is also awake now but, according to Owen, he’ll be kept in the hospital for at least another week. The break to his pelvis was bad, so he’ll need a wheelchair for a while even after discharge, and his refusal to take strong painkillers means his recovery is going to be long and painful.

Carlos is itching to see him. It’s been torture cooped up in his room without knowing how TK was doing—there’s only so much relief messages passed through their fathers can bring. It had only been his father’s stern and steady presence that had kept him in that bed when he felt like he was losing his mind with worry.

But now, finally, he’s being wheeled into TK’s room and helped onto the chair next to the bed. Owen stands off to the side, watching the two of them with a mixture of affection and sadness in his gaze, and his dad hovers behind him, but Carlos only has eyes for TK.

He looks incredibly tired, but he attempts a smile when he rolls his head to look at Carlos, extending his hand out across the distance between them.

“Hey, Ty,” Carlos says softly, taking TK’s hand in his good one. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better. Not sure if I’ve been worse. I think this might just beat getting shot to that title.”

“That’s not funny.”

TK just hums, his eyes drifting closed for a second. “Maybe not.”

“Why did you push me?”

TK’s eyes fly open at the question, confusion overtaking his expression as he stares at Carlos. He moves as if to sit upright before groaning in pain, his face screwing up. Carlos reaches out for him, but he’s beaten to it by his father, who places a reassuring hand on TK’s shoulder.

“Take it easy, son,” he says gently. “Don’t move too much.”

“I hate this,” TK mutters, his body relaxing bit by bit. His gaze is still clouded when he looks back over at Carlos, but he manages a soft smile all the same. “I pushed you because I didn’t want you to get hurt. The car would have hit me either way; I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to get you out of the way in time.”

Carlos blinks at him, dumbfounded. “You’re sorry?” he asks, disbelief colouring his tone. “Ty, you’re in the hospital, seriously injured, because you chose to save me instead of yourself. Why would you do that?”

“You know why.”

Carlos does; of course he does, but it’s not enough to assuage the guilt still bubbling in his stomach at the sight of TK in the bed.

TK sighs, squeezing his hand. “You would have done the same for me,” he points out. “We both know you would have, so don’t you dare ask me to apologise for my choices.”

“I know. I won’t.” Carlos closes his eyes, deflating a little. “I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“And I hate seeing you hurt, so maybe you can do us both a favour and go home. I’ll be fine.”

Carlos must need his hearing tested, because there’s no way TK just said that. There’s no way his boyfriend told him to leave right after calling him out for hypocrisy. Except apparently he did, because he’s trying to disentangle their hands, and Carlos is not having that.

He grips onto TK even tighter and glares at him. “TK, if you think I’m leaving you here—”

“Carlos,” TK interrupts quietly. “I get it. But, babe, you need to rest and heal, and you can’t do either of those things sitting here.”

“Watch me.”

“No.” TK shifts his gaze over Carlos’s shoulder, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “Mr Reyes, can you make sure he rests?”

His dad laughs, leaning over to pat TK’s shoulder. “Of course. I’m sure once his mother sees him, she won’t let him out of her sight for a week anyway.”

TK grins. “Good to know.” He yawns and resettles himself slightly in the bed, his eyes fluttering shut. “Carlos, if you’re still here when I next open my eyes, I’m not kissing you for a month.”

“You shouldn’t make threats you know you can’t follow through with.”

“Don’t make me make it two.”

Despite himself, Carlos laughs. He leans over and presses a lingering kiss to TK’s temple, then stands as well as he’s able, leaning on his dad for support. “Alright, I’m going. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

TK already sounds half-asleep when he mumbles, “Love you too,” back, and Carlos can’t even be embarrassed by how ridiculously smitten he must look, even though he’s in front of both their fathers.

He allows his dad to move him back to the wheelchair and says a quick goodbye to Owen, keeping his eyes on TK for as long as he can. Just as they reach the door, he catches TK’s eyes opening to slivers, obviously checking to see if Carlos is actually leaving. Carlos shakes his head at him, causing TK to flush at the knowledge he’s been caught. His eyes slam shut again, his tongue poking out childishly, and Carlos laughs, a lightness settling in his heart even as TK’s room disappears from view.

It’s going to be a long few months for the both of them, but they have family behind them to help them get through it.

And they have each other. Which, given everything, Carlos thinks is nothing short of a goddamn miracle.

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plant-flwrs · 4 years

Note

Can I request a ilvermorny transfer x one of the twins? I think it'll be cool if she wore roller skates to school (charmed by yours truly) since it's the 90s and she's cool but super sweet and caring - maybe when they invite her over to the burrow for the summer or their birthday she can give them a pair? Thanks ily!!!

roller skates // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: ok i always feel bad when my fics take so long to set up and theres barely any like actual romance and i am trying to work on it. i think its hard for me to go into a fic where a relationship is already established, so i like writing them coming together and the immersion of it. but i hate reading fics where it takes forever to get to the good parts so just know that i will be trying to work on that flaw in my writing! thanks so much for reading! (i made the reader from florida just because my mind blanked on any other places that don’t have snow lol, but it’s not really relevant in any other situations so ignore it if u please) also just realizing all of my summaries sound scary and ominous also just realizing how i say way too much in these author notes im so sorry bye

summary: The American transfer student draws attention to herself with her accent, but Fred is drawn to something else about her.

(10.4k hehe sorry :D)

-----

Looking around at the students bustling past you, the only word you could think of was “proper”.

Looking down at your muggle clothes, loose and mismatched, your hair resting naturally, the only word you could think to describe yourself with was “improper”.

A boy with a permanent scowl and striking blond hair glanced your way, and the taller adults behind him followed his eye line. The three of them looked you up and down and their mouths all distorted into nasty grimaces. You felt your father’s comforting hand clasp over your shoulder, trying to help you remember everything he had said to you before arriving at King Cross Station.

“They aren’t that different from us,” he repeated, and you could tell he was doubting himself as he glanced at the uptight children and their matching parents.

He guided you forwards, and you pushed your large cart in front of you, navigating through the crowd. It started to separate around you, and even more odd glances were thrown your way. You supposed you should have felt a little insecure- you looked quite out of place- but the feeling could not overwhelm the excitement you felt. You had read all about Hogwarts, its history, its architecture, and you even picked up a few books about muggle London.

You were stood in your father's embrace, about to board. Your things were stored away, and you heard the train roaring louder and louder. You glanced around, the fathers in their dress shirts and ties, mothers in long skirts and blouses. Their children wore sweaters and jeans, or suit jackets and dress pants.

Something caught your eyes, though; a few feet away there was a large family, mingling in embraces. They all had flaming red hair, and their clothes looked like yours. In fact, your clothes resembled the oldest woman’s clothes, mismatched and colorful. Her eyes watered, and she smoothed down the hair on a fidgeting boy.

“Ronald, hold still!” she shouted at him, and he reluctantly allowed his mother to soothe his red hair down into a part on the side.

Once the woman had moved onto another child, Ronald roughed his hair back to the mess it was before. The woman now clutched a smaller boy, who looked like he was Ronald’s age, by the shoulders. She moved a hand to soothe his unruly hair off his forehead. Your eyes widened when you saw the lightning bolt on his forehead.

The books you had bought about the English Wizarding World did not neglect to mention the boy who lived. Elbowing your father, you both cast glances at the family. Your father nodded his head, looking impressed at the sight of Harry Potter.

“Thanks again Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, and it sounded like he had said it millions of times before.

Mrs. Weasley waved off the two boys, who went to gather a girl with large bushy hair.

“Come on ‘Mione! We’ve got to get a good compartment,” Ronald said impatiently, tugging the girl's arm onto the train.

Mrs. Weasley was left with four other children. One of them looked like all the other proper British people you had seen at the station, a permanent sneer on his face. He shook his head stiffly at his mother and shook his father’s hand. You thought it was quite odd, and two identical boys standing with the family couldn’t contain their laughter.

“Yes,” one of them started, doubling over in a bow, “good day, mother,” he said pompously, imitating his brother.

“May you have a wonderful few months,” the other started, moving to shake his father’s hand as his brother had moments ago, “I’ll be looking for your owl,” he said, sounding incredibly posh.

The younger girl, with the same fiery hair, began to giggle, earning a scowl from the eldest brother as he boarded the train.

The girl pulled her mother in for a hug, and then her father, and waved to them fervently as she followed after her brother.

“You boys, stay out of trouble!” Mrs. Weasley said to the remaining twins, waving a finger at them.

“We always do, mum,” one said, and it was obvious by his tone that they didn’t often stay out of trouble.

They waved to their parents at the same time, stepping onto the train with a certain enthusiasm.

You averted your gaze, looking anywhere but at the family you had been staring at. You looked up at your father, hugging him one last time. When you pulled back, you heard his name being called.

“Mr. Y/n?” the voice called out, approaching the two of you.

It was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley already had his hand stuck out to your father.

“I’m Arthur Weasley, I’ve been the one to hire you at the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry. This is my wife, Molly. Funny to meet you here,” he said politely, looking at you and your father in a nicer way than any other wizard had during your time at the station. His eyes didn’t wander down to your brightly colored shoes, or your patterned pants, and he didn’t even cast a second glance at your oversized, offensively colored sweater. You beamed at him.

“Oh! Yes, it’s great to meet you,” your father said, shaking his hand. He squeezed your shoulder, jostling you a bit, “This is my daughter, Y/n.”

“Oh, would you hear that accent, Arthur!” Molly gasped, smiling as if she was astonished. Your father chuckled at her reaction. You supposed it would happen to you a lot at Hogwarts.

They both smiled at you, and Arthur offered you his hand to shake. You held your hand out, but the sleeve of your sweater swallowed the limb. You shook the extra clothing away, and Molly chuckled. Finally shaking his hand, you held it out to Molly. She bypassed your hand and began to roll up the sleeves of your sweater.

“Thank you,” you said, and she nodded, accomplished, at you.

“Better get her going,” your father said, and the Weasleys nodded at you.

“Have a good term, dear,” Molly said to you, patting your shoulders the way she had done to Harry.

“Thank you,” you repeated, moving past them and heading onto the train.

You waved one last time at your father, and the door closed behind you.

You wandered down the isles, looking for an empty place to sit. You pretended to look like you knew where you were going, hoping fewer people would stare at you if you did. Your plan didn’t work, and you caught the eyes of almost everyone you passed.

You had made it to the end of the train, and your eyes peered into the last cabin. It was empty except for a girl and a boy. They seemed friendly enough, so you slid open the door.

“Mind if I sit with you guys?” you asked, and the boy looked at you quizzically when he heard your voice.

“Not at all,” the girl said.

She had strikingly blonde hair and gray eyes that poured deeply into you. She had a faint smile on her lips, and her head was cocked to the side.

“I’m Luna Lovegood,” she said, and her voice was light and airy, “This is Neville Longbottom.”

The boy shifted in his seat, casting a shy glance at you. He raised a shaky hand and gave you a curt wave.

You smiled widely at the two of them, glad you seemed to have picked the right place to sit.

The train ride went fast enough. Luna asked you all sorts of questions about America, and you asked her all sorts of questions about England. When Neville warmed up to you, he asked some questions about Ilvermorny. They asked what house you had been in there, and you told him you were a Thunderbird, the soul of the witch.

“Where do you reckon she’ll be sorted into here?” Neville asked Luna. You leaned forwards, curious for the answer.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, peering into a magazine she had balanced into her lap, “but if I’m lucky, it’ll be Ravenclaw.”

“Which one is Ravenclaw?” you asked, trying to remember what you had read.

“The wise and witty,” Luna said, moving her robes to show the crest on it. It was blue with a bird over it.

“A raven, clever,” you said, looking closer at Neville’s red-trimmed robes.

“You’d think,” he said, “but it’s an eagle. I’m a Gryffindor, we’re meant to be brave but,” he trailed off, and Luna placed a comforting hand on his arm.

“Oh, stop it, Neville,” she said gently, her gaze back onto you, “there's Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”

You nodded, recalling what little you read.

“My dad said he figured I would be a Hufflepuff. The Ministry told him he was a Ravenclaw, he had to do the silly sorting hat and everything,” you said, and Neville smiled at you.

“Hufflepuff? They’re quite nice, I suppose,” he said, sounding disappointed that you weren’t in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

“Well, we won’t know for sure,” Luna said, closing her magazine, “until-” but the train’s brakes began to screech.

Her smiled widened, and you looked down at your robes you had changed into. Maybe now people would be less inclined to stare, you thought.

You were right, but only briefly. Once you had gotten to the Great Hall, you were shuffled in with the first years. Your face burned a slight red the whole time, your larger and older stature standing out amongst the sea of younger students. Your name was called, and you heard a faint whooping coming from the table of red.

You glanced at it, seeing Neville lowering a cheering fist from the air. He looked around nervously, and you saw one of the Weasley twins glancing at his quizzically. You smiled at Neville’s support and sat in the stool.

An old and tattered hat was lowered onto your head, and suddenly it began speaking in your ear.

“Hm, very interesting. You’re not from here, that’s obvious,” it spoke quickly, echoing in your skull, “but I think the choice is simple. I’d say,”

Suddenly the voice left your skull and boomed into the room, for everyone to hear.

“Hufflepuff!”

Cheers from a table full of yellow sounded off, some raising from their seats and clapping for you. You beamed, moving off the stool and skipping cheerfully towards the table. You walked down the aisle between the red and yellow, and Neville’s hand stuck out at you.

“Congratulations!” he said excitedly, holding his hand up for a high five.

You hit his hand, and he waved you off.

A girl with a yellow tie and dark hair waved you over. She inched over, giving you room to sit with her.

“I’m Sarah, happy to have you in Hufflepuff!” she beamed, and you didn’t think you would ever get used to the British accents.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you watched her eyes widen at the sound of your voice, “I’m Y/n.”

“You’re American! You must have come from that American school, what’s it called, Ilmorny?” she asked, ducking her head and whispering as the sorting continued.

“Ilvemorny,” you corrected her, still smiling.

Sarah asked you a lot of the same questions Neville and Luna had asked, but you didn’t mind answering them. She had even offered to give you a tour of the school tomorrow, with the promise that you would choose the bed next to her’s in the dorm.

Sarah had lived up to her promise. You walked with your head permanently tilted upwards, admiring the greatness of the castle. Sarah ate with you at every meal and even insisted on walking you to your classes until you knew the way on your own. She had been so nice to you, and when Luna told you about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, you knew you had to ask her to go with you.

The two of you walked through the snow, wrapped up in matching yellow and black scarves. She had linked her arm with yours and pulled along to all her favorite shops.

The two of you ducked into The Three Broomsticks, sick of the ice sticking to your face.

You saw a red scarf and a blue scarf sitting at a table, and when you saw the flow of blonde hair peeking from the blue one, you knew who it was. You pulled Sarah over to Luna and Neville, and Neville told you to pull up two chairs. You introduced Sarah to Luna and Neville.

“We’re just waiting for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to meet us,” Neville said, smiling cheerfully.

“Oh, should we go?” you asked, offering to free up your chair.

“No, no, stay,” Luna urged you, pulling your arm back down, “I’ll introduce you.”

This was how you were going to meet Harry Potter, you thought, huddled up at a small table, drinking a foamy beverage that left a little white mustache on your upper lip.

Harry was just like every other kid, and he was with the people you had seen at the station that day.

“What did you say your last name was?” Ron asked, leaning over the table so you could hear him.

“Y/l/n,” you said.

“Does your dad work for the Ministry?” he asked, and you nodded, “Our dads work together!” he said, elbowing Harry.

“Her dad is the bloke my dad was raving about all summer, the guy from America,” Ron said to Harry, and Harry nodded at you.

“What a coincidence,” you said, dipping your head to take another sip of the drink Sarah had ordered you.

You all fell into a natural conversation, and Hermione asked to switch seats with Sarah at one point. Sarah had no protests, filing easily into the seat next to Harry, glancing at him dreamily.

“Will you tell me about America? I’ve been to other parts of Europe for holidays, but never America. What’s it like? How different are the wizards?" Hermione sounded off questions like she had them rehearsed, but you were happy to answer them.

You and she were in a fit of laughter after she had told you about her parents’ reaction to her letter. Your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, as Hermione recounted her mother’s jumping up and down.

You were so involved with your conversation with Hermione, you hadn’t noticed Ron’s brothers come into the restaurant.

“Hello, Ickle Ronniekins,” one of them teased, messing a hand through Ron’s overgrown hair, “when are you gettin’ a hair cut?”

“Mum’s gonna cut it all off the second you get home,” the other said, pulling a chair in between Luna and Ron. The other pulled a chair in between Harry and Sarah, and you didn’t miss Sarah’s annoyed sigh at the interruption.

You and Hermione were recovering from your laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing heavily.

“What’s so funny ladies?” one of them said, shoving Ron aside so he could rest his elbows on the table.

“Just telling Y/n about how my parents reacted to my letter from Hogwarts,” Hermione sighed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You’re the famous Y/n?”

“The American?”

Ron elbowed each of his brothers in their sides, frowning at them.

“That’s me,” you answered cheerfully, smiling at them, “Are you Ron’s brothers?”

“More like,” one of them started.

“Best friends,” the other finished.

“He really would be nowhere if it weren’t for us,” they said at the same time.

A smile slid across your face; it was easy to smile around your new friends, you found.

Hogwarts was better than you could have ever hoped. You wrote to your father nearly every week, recounting the amazing things you had done with Sarah, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The seven of you were becoming inseparable.

Luna’s blue tie dangled over your face as you lay on her lap, she was trying this odd head charm she had read about in the Quibbler. Your head rested in between her legs, back on the ground. Her skinny fingers were pressed to your temple, and they hesitantly pressed into your skin.

“Is that right?” she asked, consulting the cartoon pictures that moved on the Quibbler laying next to her.

“I don’t reckon, it doesn’t feel like anything’s happening,” you said, sitting up and rubbing where Luna’s fingers had been.

“Neville,” Luna said, motioning him over. His face grew white as she pulled him into him, moving to where you had been. Luna’s fingers pressed against Neville’s head, and his eyes fluttered closed. Luna began to hum to herself, and Neville smiled.

You crawled over to sit by Ron under the tree. Sarah was talking to Harry, her eyes dazed over as he gently brushed off a leaf that had fallen on her shoulder. Hermione was near, her head resting on her bag, laying on her back with his legs crossed. She was deep into a muggle book you recognized, and you couldn’t blame her for not wanting to put it down.

“Hi, Ron,” you snapped him out of his thoughts, ending his obvious staring at Hermione, “enjoying the weather?”

“Yeah, it’s just about my favorite time of year,” he said, twisting a blade of grass in his fingers.

The snow had melted, winter break had ended. Ron was able to shed his mother's heavy knitted sweaters and wear some of his more comfortable shirts.

“I quite liked the winter,” you said, your head leaning against the tree, “it was my first time seeing snow.”

“Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell us that?” Ron asked, seeming bewildered.

“Don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling at him.

“Hermione! Oi, Hermione! Y/n had never seen snow before she came here,” Ron said, calling out to Hermione.

“I know, she’s from Florida,” Hermione said, uninterested, head still buried in her book.

“Florida? Why didn’t I know that?” Ron asked, feeling out of the loop.

“Don’t know,” you repeated, shrugging again.

“Because you don’t ask, Ron,” Hermione said, sounding unpleased with Ron’s loud volume.

You stifled a laugh, but Ron looked at you, feeling guilty.

“Hermione’s right, I guess,” Ron said, casting a sad glance at you.

“It’s alight, Ron, I won’t hold it against you,” you reassured, and Ron perked up a little.

“Tell me one thing no one else here knows about you,” Ron said urgently. To this, Hermione closed her book and lay it on her chest, interested in what you were going to say.

You thought about it. You didn’t have anything to hide from your friends, but you felt yourself blanking on even the littlest fact about yourself. You tried to think of any special abilities you had, besides being a wizard, or any life events that were significant. The only thing you thought of was the hesitance you had when packing your trunk for school, debating on whether or not to bring your roller skates with you. Ilvermorny had allowed them, and you skated to nearly all your classes. The school's cold granite floors were just begging to be skated across, you had thought, and it was ten times faster than walking.

You thought about your skates, you missed them more than you thought you would. The white boots with slick, black wheels and rainbow laces were one of your most prized possessions. You wondered now, again, if you would have gotten in trouble for bringing your roller skates to school.

“Oh, alright, I’ve thought of something,” you began, and Hermione sat up a little, resting on her elbows.

“I really like to roller skate,” you said proudly.

“Roller skate?” Hermione and Ron repeated at the same time. Ron sounded confused, but Hermione sounded entertained.

“Yeah.”

“Like from the 80′s?” Hermione asked, still sounding entertained.

“They’re making a comeback,” you defended.

“What’s roller skate?” Ron asked, looking between you and Hermione.

“It’s like shoes with wheels on them,” Hermione said, used to having to explain muggle inventions her friend, “You tie them up and you skate around.”

“What do you do that for? Do they go really fast?” Ron asked.

“They can,” you said, “but it’s really just for fun. I used to take them with me to Ilvermorny and go to my classes on them, but I didn't know if Hogwarts allowed them.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Ron asked, “Are they dangerous?”

“They're not dangerous, I suppose you could fall on them, but it’s not as bad as that Quidditch game you guys play,” you explained, “I just didn’t know if Hogwarts allowed those kinds of muggle things.”

Ron and Hermione nodded, and Hermione looked to be in deep thought.

“I’m sure they would,” she said, returning back to her book.

“What do you reckon they’re doing down there?” Fred asked, looming over George’s shoulder as he held the Marauder’s Map in his hands.

“Do you think Ron’s finally gonna get a girlfriend?” George teased, looking at you and Ron sitting together under the tree.

Fred sneered at his brother. Ever since he had told George he thought you were cute, it seemed George wanted to push his buttons any way he could. He would make jokes about you and Ron flirting, and for some reason it made his blood boil. He hadn’t even spoken to you on more instances than he could count on a hand, but he was enticed by you.

Your eyes were always moving, and they were always wide with excitement. He thought you were beautiful, you were always wearing your muggle clothes when you didn’t have to wear your uniform. You dressed kind of like his mum, he realized one day, but in a cooler way. That’s the word, cool, he thought you were cool. You fit in easily with Ron’s friends, you could talk about anything, and you were always so sweet.

“Where are they going now?” George wondered out loud, watching the names on the map begin to move.

You got up and dusted off your pants, feeling the baggy jean material under your fingers. You helped Ron up, offering him a hand and pulling him off the ground. You, Ron, and Hermione trailed after Harry and Sarah, who trailed after Neville and Luna. You had all been feeling a bit warm outside, so you decided to go to the Gryffindor common room for the rest of the afternoon. You and Sarah were always excited to go to the Gryffindor common room, feeling it was a nice change from yours in the basement.

Fred’s eyes watched as you, Ron, and Hermione walked together towards the Gryffindor common room. He suddenly felt nervous, even though he was up in his dorm with George. He stood, and looked at himself in the mirror. He pulled down at the bottom of his shirt, tugging uncomfortably at the way it clung to his arms. He hadn’t been dressed to impress, and he usually didn’t, but at the sight of your name getting closer to his on the map, he ignored George’s torments and changed into nicer pants and a more flattering shirt.

Harry stepped passed Neville, who had forgotten the password, and held open the portrait for everyone as they stepped through. You, Sarah, Luna, and Hermione occupied the biggest couch in front of the fire, and Neville and Ron took the armchairs on either side of you. Harry sat on the floor in between Ron’s chair and where Sarah had sunk into the corner of the couch.

Sarah beamed at you, taking notice of the small action, and you wiggled your eyebrows back at her. She blushed and leaned over the side of the couch, resting her chin in her hand and starting a conversation with Harry.

Hermione pulled her book from her bag again, reading the pages eagerly. You and Luna sat shoulder to shoulder as Luna began to tell you about her plans for the summer.

“I think I’ll try to learn French,” she said, toying with some sunglasses she pulled from her pocket.

“You’re going to learn French?” you repeated, a smile pulling up your lips.

“I think so, might also help my dad with his plums,” Luna said, turning to you as she slipped on the sunglasses. They overcame her face, entirely oversized and wonderful. They were bright green and had purple lenses that were reflective. You could see your wide and amused smile in them.

“Your father grows plums?” you inquired, always enjoying conversation with Luna.

“Yes, they’re Dirigible Plums.”

“What are those?”

Luna pulled her hair back and showed you a pair of earrings she wore. They looked like little orange balloons, but leaves hung from them.

“Oh, those are very pretty, Luna,” you said, admiring them.

“My dad says they make you wiser,” she explained, “so he grows them in his garden.”

“And you wear them as earrings,” you said, smiling at her.

“Yes,” she nodded and gave you a crooked grin.

“What are your plans for the summer?” Luna asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. My father will be working, so I’ll probably be home all day,” you said, feeling a little lonely already, “I’ll have my roller skates though.”

Luna looked at you, confused, but you were more talking to Ron anyways, who you noticed was listening to your conversation.

“You should come to the Burrow this summer! Everyone does, even for just for a week,” Ron said, standing and moving over to sit on the coffee table in front of you.

“That sounds cool, I’d love to,” you said, grinning at Ron.

You looked around you and felt so lucky, lucky to have found such kind and accepting people at your new school.

Pacing upstairs, Fred smoothed down his hair before ruffling it again and then smoothing it. He knew you were downstairs, and he knew he wanted to talk to you, but you just made him so nervous. He never gets nervous.

George sat with his elbows on his knees, eyebrows raised, watching his brother obviously losing his mind.

“Just go down and talk to her,” he said, a little afraid his brother might explode, “you’re gonna wear a hole in the ground.”

Fred stopped where he stood, near the door. He sighed heavily and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard, “I’ll just go talk to her.”

Fred recalled the day he had formally met you at the Three Broomsticks. He was smooth, able to mask the way your curious gaze had made his stomach flutter. He couldn’t very well go down there and make a fool of himself, could he?

“Oi Fred!” he heard Lee call from where he stood near Harry, which was also near you, “Come over here a minute.”

Fred sauntered over, forcing himself not to stare at you.

Hermione had put down her book, and Luna had left to go to her own common room to do some homework. You and Hermione sat cross-legged facing each other, playing a muggle card game.

“Yeah?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning against the banister of the fireplace.

Harry and Lee sat at two wooden chairs near the fireplace, only a few feet away from the couch you were on. This angle allowed him to watch you as your head threw back in laughter as Hermione scowled at her losing the game. His eyes easily flickered back to Lee, who pulled him into the conversation he and Harry were having about Quidditch.

Ginny walked through the portrait hole, returning from some Quidditch training she had been doing. Ginny was taking Quidditch very seriously this year and had taken to exercising on the pitch with Angelina every weekend.

“Ginny!” Ron called out to her, putting down the newspaper he was reading. He waved her over with a hurried hand.

“What?” she said, plopping down on the empty space next to Hermione, “What game are you guys playing?”

You looked up from the deck of cards you had begun to shuffle as Hermione told her.

“Ginny,” Ron said again, pulling his sister’s attention back to him.

“Hm?” she said, and it was very obvious she was tired from her day's activities.

“Have you asked anyone over for the summer yet?” Ron asked, and his eyes flicked to you, “I just invited Y/n, so I don’t want it getting too crowded.”

Ginny looked over to you, her gaze becoming analytical. You raised a hand to wave and cast her a kind smile, and she returned it.

“I don’t have anything planned, it should be fine,” Ginny turned away from Ron and back towards you and Hermione, “When are you lot coming? At the same time?”

You looked towards Hermione, not knowing the answer.

“Oh, I didn’t have any specific ideas yet, Ron’s just asked me. Still have to write to my dad,” you said, and Hermione nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be the usual time for me, though,” Hermione said, and Ginny smiled.

“What’s the usual time?” you asked, beginning to deal the cards to you and Hermione.

“A few weeks before school starts, Mrs. Weasley takes us all to Diagon Alley for our school things,” Hermione said, speaking fondly of the memory.

“Should I ask my dad to come then, when Hermione does?” you looked towards Ron, “Unless I should come at a different time,” you said, not trying to intrude.

“That would be perfect! Harry comes ‘round that time too, so we’ll all see each other,” Ron said.

He looked over at Harry, and upon seeing his brother, he called Fred over the way he had done to Ginny.

“Fred, have you invited anyone home for summer yet?”

Fred’s gaze immediately went to you, and he found you looking at him too.

“Yeah,” he said, pushing himself off the wall and over to Ron.

“Who?” Ron said, curious because his brothers usually didn’t have people over to the Burrow during holidays.

“George,” he said, smirking.

“Git,” Ron mumbled under his breath.

“Why do you ask, Ickle Ronniekins?”

“I just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t get too crowded when Hermione, Harry, and Y/n come ‘round,” Ron said, squirming as Fred forced himself into Ron’s seat that was only big enough for one of them.

Fred’s cool demeanor dropped for a moment, his eyes widening. He quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around Ron.

“How considerate of you,” he said, giving his brother an unwanted side hug.

Ron got up from his seat, leaving Fred to sit by himself. He watched you with unblinking eyes as you listened to Ginny talk about her time with Angelina on the pitch.

Looking down at your packed to the brim suitcase, you glance to the corner of your room. Your pristine roller skates sat there, one on their side. They looked sad and forgotten, but you knew that wasn’t true. Ever since you had gotten home from Hogwarts, you had taken to skating around ‘muggle’ London. You had also just gotten used to saying ‘muggle’.

Your father left early and got home late, and part of you was jealous that he got to see a Weasley every day and you didn’t. To ease your envy, you took to your skates.

You weren’t sure if you should pack them with you for Ron’s house. You were leaving when your father got home for work, the two of you setting off just before dark. You shoved a sweater deeper into your bag, making room for the skates.

Your father was to eat dinner with the Weasleys, sleep on the couch, and set off with Mr. Weasley for work in the morning. No point in two trips, they figured.

You were traveling by Flu powder, and your father went first. He heaved your bag into the fireplace with him and erupted in green flames. You carried a backpack on your shoulder, filled with little things that couldn’t fit in your suitcase.

Fred was more nervous and excited than he had ever felt in his whole life. He was determined to chat you up this summer, at least do something to make sure you knew he existed. He had been pacing in he and George’s shared room, but George pulled him down to the kitchen and made him drink some tea, hoping to calm him down.

You twisted your fingers, looking nervously into the fireplace. You were extremely excited to spend the remaining weeks of your summer with the Weasleys, but a small part of you was scared. You were nervous that Ron’s parents wouldn’t like you as much as they did at the train station. You were nervous that Ron, and his siblings, would get sick of having you around. You were nervous that you would become a burden.

You had been writing with Hermione, and she ensured you of how kind the Weasleys were. She told you that you had nothing to worry about, and you felt a little relieved.

You had visited Sarah a couple of times during the summer. She lived fairly close, close enough for you to take muggle transportation. Her family was welcoming and all had wide eyes at your accent. Thinking of their kindness, you felt confident enough to finally step into the fireplace.

Green flames surrounded you, and within seconds, you were stood in a different fireplace. It was a little shorter, and you were glad you had hunched over a little. Mr. Weasley and your father were shaking hands off to the side, over by a large couch. Mrs. Weasley was looking into the fireplace and waving you out. Ron was trudging your suitcase upstairs already, and Hermione and Ginny stood by Mrs. Weasley smiling widely. You noticed Fred and George sat at a large wooden table near the kitchen both drinking some tea and eating.

You took a step from the fireplace, making sure to wipe off any ash that may have stained your clothes, and allowed Mrs. Weasley to pull you into a hug.

“Oh, so good to see you again, dear!” she said, rocking you back and forth in the suffocating hug.

You didn’t care if you couldn’t breathe, you decided at that moment that Molly Weasley gave the absolute best hugs. She released you, patting your shoulders and running a loving hand through your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You beamed at her, and she smiled back at you.

When she moved away, Hermione quickly replaced her. Hermione’s arms pulled you close, wrapping around your backpack.

“I missed you!” she said, smiling at you.

“I missed you too!” you said, nearly ‘awing’ at everyone’s kindness.

Ginny hugged you too, and when you stepped away, Ron had come back downstairs. You hugged him, and then Harry, and finally you were left to be able to breathe your own air.

The house around you was adorable. It was better than you could have ever imagined. Magic was everywhere, and everything just felt like home.

“You’ll be staying with me and Ginny,” Hermione said to you from her spot next to you at the table.

“Perfect,” you replied, the same awestruck smile plastered on your face since you had arrived.

Fred looked at you from across the table. He felt like his dinner was moving in his stomach, and his hands were sweating. He’d nearly dropped his fork three times. He breathed deep, and when the conversation lulled, he took his chance.

“How has your summer been, Y/n?” he asked, and you looked up from your plate to him.

He nearly died, your happy eyes looking at him.

“Great!” you said, wiping your hands on your napkin in your lap, “I’m glad to finally be here.”

He smiled back at you, and it took him a moment to realize he’d been staring for a little too long, and that you had asked him a question.

“My summer? Oh, my summer’s been good too,” he replied, nodding.

You looked to George, who was next to him and raised your eyebrows, inviting his answer.

“It’s been good,” he said casually, and then an evil grin spread across his face, “but I think Fred’s just about worn my ear off talking about you.”

Fred coughed, choking on his mashed potatoes. His face went red, and he looked at his twin with an anger George had never seen before. Fred quickly looked back at you, as if to gauge your reaction. Your head was tilted down, but a shy smile was on your face and a blush crept on your cheeks.

Fred’s anger subsided at the sight of it, but when George kicked him from under the table, he was reminded.

“What is wrong with you?” Fred asked, nearly yelling at his brother in the privacy of their own room.

“I gave you a push,” George answered, not looking up from the Zonko’s catalog in his hands.

Fred simmered, coming to the realization that George was right. He fell onto his bed, thinking back to the pink on your cheeks and the bashful curl of your lips.

He didn’t know how he was meant to sleep, painfully aware of the fact that you were asleep just a room away.

“Did you hear what George said to Y/n at dinner?” Hermione asked, pulling Ginny into the argument you were having once she got out of the shower.

Ginny shook her head, removing the towel from her hair, “No, what’d he say?”

You rolled your eyes at Hermione as she divulged into every little detail of what George had said.

“And Fred could not stop staring!” she finished, and you let out an exaggerated breath.

“He was not staring!”

“Yes, he was,” Ginny said cheekily, sitting down on her bed.

“Ginny!” you said, giving up hope of having her on your side.

“He totally fancies you,” Hermione said.

Your face twisted for two reasons: the word ‘fancies’, and the fact that she thought Fred Weasley might fancy you.

“He does not!”

Ginny sat on her bed, listening to you and Hermione go back and forth. She knew Fred fancied you, he had since they had been at school. She saw his longing looks, the way he looked at you first after he told a joke, and the pure admiration he had in his eyes any time he looked at you. It especially convinced her when Fred had been talking about you all summer. She came to a decision.

“He does,” she said, watching Hermione’s face change into the proud one she wore when she answered a question right in class. Your mouth hung open.

“What?” Hermione’s gaze turned towards you, and she smiled widely. You liked to think it was her infectious smile that made your mouth turn up, and not the idea of Fred liking you.

“He has been talking about you all summer, I’m surprised Ron didn’t tell you earlier,” Ginny said, bringing the towel to her hair again to catch some dripping water.

“He probably hasn’t even noticed,” Hermione said, the tone of annoyance dripping off her tongue.

Ginny flashed her a sympathetic look, but Hermione ignored it, continuing.

“Do you like him?” she pried, and the whole room felt like it was frozen.

They both looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

You didn’t know. Fred was handsome, and funny, and clever, but you hardly knew him. You knew he was mischievous, and that he tormented Ron, but other than that you might as well have been strangers. You could not deny, however, that he was attractive.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly.

“You don’t know?” Ginny repeated, confused.

“Yeah, I mean, I barely know him,” you answered, the obvious energy in the room shifting to something of deep thought.

“Do you fancy him, though?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.

“I think he’s cute, yeah, but how can he fancy me? We’ve barely spoken to each other. Are you sure Ginny?” you asked again, still doubtful.

“I’m sure he’s noticed the little things more than you think he would, Fred can be pretty considerate when he wants to be,” Ginny said, and you breathed out loudly. You flopped on your back, the mound of blankets around you and Hermione soothing your landing.

“See? I wouldn’t know that!” you said.

You knew it was a little silly, to focus on something like this. You had an older, attractive, popular boy head over heels for you, but you were harping on the fact that you didn’t know whether or not he was considerate.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hermione said harshly, “I mean it’s not like you’re forced to marry him. You go on dates with people to get to know them, after all.”

You were nearly offended by Hermione’s tone, but you figured she was just getting irritated on the subject of crushes.

“I know, ‘Mione, I’m just confused by it,” you reassured her.

“Well, test the waters tomorrow,” Ginny said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

You cringed away from her, and swells of giggles were coming from Ginny’s room nearly all night.

The three of you slept late into the morning. The Burrow’s eventful noises were nothing compared to the sounds of muggle London, so you slept peacefully. It wasn’t until something began tapping on Ginny’s window, did the three of you wake up.

“What the-?” Ginny started but soon fell silent at the sound of a loud crashing noise. Shards of glass scattered around the room and Hermione was lucky that she had rolled away from the window in her sleep. You put your hand up, flinching at the noise, and when you dropped it, the warm summer air flooded into the room.

A small golden snitch was soaring around the room, averting every swipe of Ginny’s hands, and ducking behind her dresser.

Ginny slipped on some shoes, and carefully navigated through the glass. She leaned cautiously out of the window, and that's when the screaming started.

“Harry! Are you mental?! What on Earth-” her screams divulged into threats and insults, and you looked over her shoulder, watching Harry hover many feet away on his broom, his face looking quite guilty.

You found your shoes and moved over to the window. You then realized that Fred and George were hovering closer to Ginny’s window, silencing the snickers and amazed faces they wore. At the sight of Fred, your eyes widened, and his eyes met yours. He smiled kindly at you, and before you knew what you were doing, you ducked behind the window, crouching by Ginny’s feet.

You heard George’s laughter, and Ginny’s ramblings stilled.

“What are you doing on the floor?” she asked you, lowering herself to crouch with you.

“I don’t know,” you answered, whispering. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were wide. Ginny’s threatening look turned into a smile.

She began to giggle, and soon enough, Fred and George hovered just above the window, peering into Ginny’s room.

“What are you girls doing down there?” George asked, resting a hand on the part of the windowsill with no glass on it, peering into the room.

Ginny looked at you, her smile wide. You looked around and began to pick up large shards of glass.

“Cleaning up the glass,” you said casually, although you could still feel the distinct burn of blush on your cheeks.

You could only safely pick up two large shards of glass without cutting your hands, so you raised yourself from the ground, meeting Fred and George’s eyes. Ginny followed you, crossing her arms and smirking.

The boys wore their practice robes, their names and numbers on the backs. They both had discarded goggles hanging from their necks, and their hair was wild. You looked between the both of them, swallowing thickly.

“Could you keep it down?” Ginny finally said, trying to ease the situation, “We’re trying to sleep.”

George removed a hand from his broom and glanced at his watch, “It’s nearly 12 in the afternoon,” he said sarcastically.

“Really? Well, we need our beauty sleep,” Ginny said, and you noticed she nearly reached out to close the window.

George rolled his eyes and zipped away on his broom, leaving Fred.

“I’m gonna go get a broom, clean this up,” Ginny said, huffing as she navigated her way back through the glass on the floor.

You and Fred were left there, staring at anything but each other. Fred moved slightly up and down on his broom as he hovered. He finally cleared his throat and looked at you.

“Sleep well?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

You nodded and smiled, rocking back and forth on your feet, “You?”

He nodded too and looked away quickly.

“Oh, I think George, is calling me,” he said, and it was obvious George was not calling him. He flew away on his broom, and you closed your eyes, letting out a restrained breath.

You groaned and threw yourself on Ginny’s bed. Hermione rolled over, a large and entertained grin on her face. You covered your face with a pillow and ignored Ginny and Hermione’s imitations of the incident while they swept up the glass.

Mrs. Weasley was furious to see Ginny’s window. She had come in later in the day, a basket full of laundry on her hip.

“Hello girls,” she said pleasantly, “Do you have- what the bloody hell is that?”

Ginny’s eyes widened at the sound of her mother’s deep and serious tone.

“Mum! It wasn’t us,” Ginny leaped from her bed and ran to her dresser, she quickly caught the snitch from where it had been hiding behind her dresser, “It came through the window this morning when the boys were playing.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at you and Hermione, and you both nodded your heads furiously. She huffed out a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

Finally looking up, she set the laundry down and stood in Ginny’s doorway.

“BOYS!” she shouted, and you heard the sudden halting of George and Fred’s laughter, and Harry and Ron’s footsteps upstairs silenced.

The sound of four hesitant feet walking to Ginny’s room was the last thing you heard before Mrs. Weasley’s screams burst your eardrums.

The Burrow was crowded now that the boys had been banned from leaving the house. They had only briefly been allowed out of the house to de-gnome the garden, but Mrs. Weasley stood at the door, making sure they had absolutely no fun.

Your suitcase lay open in Ginny’s room, the three of you dressed and having absolutely no ideas as to what to do. You had all already ran through your spending money going to Diagon Alley on your first days there, and without the boys offering some entertainment, the three of you were idle.

Ginny paced, looking through her own things with interest. She twisted her broom in her hands, offering the idea of Quidditch, but Hermione wasn’t interested. Ginny was scanning her room, and her eyes fell on your bag. A pair of white shoes with wheels on them lay tucked away in the bag. She walked over to them and pulled them out hesitantly.

“What the bloody hell are those?” George said from the doorway.

The three of you girls turned, looking to the door. The four boys crowded in the hall, all peering into the room with interest. It seemed they were bored too.

“Are those the roll skates?” Ron asked, mispronouncing the word and shoving past George and taking the roller skate from Ginny.

“Yeah,” you said, your eyes flicking up over the top of your magazine.

The rest of the boys filed into the tiny room, nearly all of them shoulder to shoulder. Hermione rose from her spot next to you, picking up the other one from your bag.

“I remember seeing commercials for these things when I was a kid,” Hermione said, spinning the wheel in her hand.

“Commercials? What are you on about?” Ron said, and Harry caught your baffled look and smiled.

“What are they?” Fred asked, taking Hermione’s seat next to you on Ginny’s bed.

You lowered your magazine and looked at him, only to find him already looking at you. He gave you a crooked smile and nodded in greeting. You successfully fought a blush and smiled back at him.

“They’re roller skates. They’re like shoes with wheels,” you explained, taking the skate from Ron.

You rolled up your jeans a little and slipped on the skate. Fred watched your delicate fingers lacing up the shoe, noticing the way your hair fell into your face as you looked down at them.

Hermione handed you the other one, and you did the same to the other foot. You stood easily from the bed and nearly lost your balance. It was lucky that Fred’s strong shoulder was there for your hand to clasp onto, or else your feet would have slipped from under you.

You looked down at your hand still on Fred’s shoulder, even though you were standing fine. He slipped your hand off but kept it in his hand. You then became aware that you were just holding hands at this point. He stood with you and turned to face you. He pulled your other hand into his, and pushed you away from him, smiling widely as you rolled easily on the hardwood floors.

Everyone knew then that they had found their entertainment for the day.

The sound of joyful laughter flooded your ears as Fred pulled you around the limited space in Ginny’s room. Your hands fit together perfectly, and he walked backward as he pulled you, keeping his smiling eyes on you the whole time. Soon he was pulling you into the hallway, and everyone trailed after. You felt Ginny’s small hands pushing your back, and you began to gain speed. Fred hadn’t caught up, and you were coming closer and closer to him. You looked down but didn’t want to put your toes down to brake, in fear of scuffing up the floor. So, you let yourself fall into Fred’s arms.

The two of you stayed upright, but his long arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands fell to his chest, and his chin pressed against his neck as he looked down at you. His hair fell into his eyes, and yours fell gracefully in its natural place. You smiled, and he smiled, and soon you erupted into giggles at the silence behind you. George catcalled, and you stuffed your giggles into Fred’s chest, tucking your head under his chin. You felt him take a sharp inhale, and his arms became a little tighter around you.

When Mr. Weasley got home, he was accosted by his children.

“Dad!” They said in unison, all waiting for him by the door.

He jumped at the sight of them all, then began taking off his coat.

“Look at these!” Ginny said, pointing to your feet.

You did a little spin, careful not to make any marks on the floor. Fred watched you spin elegantly, your arms coming out a little like a ballerina.

“Remarkable!” Mr. Wealsey cried, moving to look at them.

Questions came from his mouth faster then you could answer them, and you slid the wheels against the floor under the table while you ate dinner.

“We had an idea, Dad,” Fred said, looking at you proudly.

“Yeah, think you’ll like it,” George added, glancing at you with a smirk and then looking back at his dad.

“We need you to conjure some sort of track outside,” Ron finished, talking with his mouth full.

“A track! That’s brilliant!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed, missing the worried look from his wife.

“It was Y/n’s idea, she’s brilliant,” Fred said, looking across the table at you.

You giggled as George made a gagging noise.

“With what? Stone?” Mrs. Weasley inquired, placing a hand on her hip.

“Oh no, they’re usually made of wood or asphalt,” you explained, “they have a whole building of them in the muggle world. People rent the skates and pay to skate on a big rink.”

Mr. Weasley's eyes widened with excitement, and Mrs. Weasley’s worry tamed.

“Let’s do it tonight.”

The eight of you walked to a clearing on the side of the house. It was where the boys usually played Quidditch, but it hadn’t been in use for days. Mrs. Weasley hadn’t stopped the boys from helping with the track, and you were grateful.

“Hold it higher, Ron!” Mr. Weasley called out, and Ron raised his father's wand with a bright orb of light coming from it.

The track was nearly done. It was huge, a large hoop secured to the ground. There was an enchanted orb of light in the center of the circle, and it illuminated the entire rink.

Your friends watched you blaze around the track, your hair whipping around behind your face, the sides of your cardigan flapping in the wind. You heard loud cheers when you successfully began skating backward.

The rest of your trip to The Burrow was spent out there. The boys were lifted from their punishments, and the rink became the one place you all went to when you woke up, and the last place you were before bed. Soon enough, though, your father appeared in the fireplace with your school trunk by his side. He quickly took back the bag you had been keeping at the Weasley's, and you went through your trunk one last time, making sure you had everything.

This year, walking through the train station, you were still stared at. But you didn’t care because an entire family surrounding you, and they all looked like you.

Your father gave you a lasting embrace before Fred followed you onto the train. He had waited for you, watching as you hugged your dad. He waved to your father, and his hand grazed your lower back as he walked behind you. The two of you found the compartment that had to be the most crowded of the lot.

Lee, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Sarah, George, and now you and Fred, packed into a compartment, the entire room filled with busy conversation the entire ride.

It was weird to be in the Hufflepuff common room, your bedroom devoid of Ginny’s huffs as she rolled over to get comfortable, or Hermione’s anxious mumbles she said in her sleep. You pulled your blankets off of you, your legs feeling sore from the constant skating you had been doing for weeks.

Speaking of, you had made the decision to bring your skates to Hogwarts. You slipped them on, tightening the rainbow laces. You pointed your wand at the wheels and cast a silencing charm, so the turn of the wheels would be silent.

You carefully climbed the stairs from the Hufflepuff basement and looked both ways before you skated towards your destination.

Fred had been sitting under his covers, looking over the map as he usually did before he snuck to the kitchens. Out of habit, he looked at the Hufflepuff common room for your familiar name. He was shocked to see you across the castle, in a long-abandoned classroom. He suddenly lost his appetite and slid into some slippers.

He rested his forearm in the crook of the door, leaning against it. He watched you illuminated by the candles lit on the wall. You easily glided between the desks, twisting and turning, spinning, and navigating between them. His eyes followed you, your body moving naturally. He watched the sway of your hips as your wait transferred from foot to foot, the skates rolling against the smooth stone. You moved to the open space in the room, skating backward, your back to him. You turned just a few feet in front of him, and when you saw Fred, your surprise ran through your body. Your feet faltered and you bumped into a desk, making a loud crash.

He jumped from his spot in the doorway, closing the door behind him. He moved to you in two long strides, crouching to reach you on the floor.

“Are you alright?”

“You scared the shit out of me, Fred!” you said, smiling up at him.

“Couldn’t help it, I had to come see you,” he said smoothly, bringing the map from his back pocket.

“What? How did you know I was here?”

He unfolded a piece of paper and held it out to you. You took it in your hands and realized what it was. Before you could look at it for long, Fred took it back, a worried expression on his face.

“Filch is coming, he must have heard the noise,” Fred folded the map and put it back in his pocket.

Suddenly, his hands were on your waist, and he was guiding you to your feet. He looked around the room and saw the door to the supply closet.

With a wave of his wand, the flames of the candles were extinguished and he was pulling your gliding figure to the closet. The door closed just in time, and Filch burst in. You and Fred were pressed together, his hands still on your waist. You opened your mouth to ask him about the map, and one of his hands covered your mouth. He felt your soft lips, and his eyes locked onto yours. You heard Filch’s heavy feet stomping around the room and the screech of the desk against the floor.

Your mind was occupied by the lack of space between you, your back pressed to the door, and Fred’s warm hand on your face. He looked deeply at you, and his face was inches from yours.

You thought back to the day Ginny told you about how Fred felt, and you realized that you no longer had any hesitations about Fred. Standing this close to him, his leg slid between yours, his chest against yours, you felt what he felt. You fancied Fred.

Fred felt your lips curl into a smile beneath his hand. It was dark, so he couldn’t see your face, but he wished more than anything that he could. He heard the door close, and Filch was gone, but neither of you moved. Fred’s hand retracted from your mouth, moving to your neck. His fingers slipped under your hair, and his thumb rested in your jaw.

“Why did you come here?” you whispered.

“I like to watch you skate,” he answered, his voice devoid of any laughter.

“You’ve watched me skate for weeks,” you said quickly, inching your face closer to his, craning your neck to look up at him.

“I like to watch you,” he said without thinking, “I like you.”

You closed the space between you two. His lips were slow, and so were yours. You arched your back against the door, anything to get closer to him. His face was warm, and yours was cold. His lips pressed hard against yours, and the kiss held everything he had felt since he talked to you in the Three Broomsticks. It was all the nights he had ranted to George about you, all the times he had mentioned what little time it was until you’d finally be at The Burrow, all the times he looked at the map just to see your name, all the times his stomach had flipped just at the thought of you.

You pulled away, breathless, and he lowered his head to rest on your shoulder. His breathing was heavy, and your eyes had fluttered closed. He reached for his wand and said “Lumos,” just so he could see your pretty face and swollen lips.

He walked you back to the basement, and you shared another slow kiss. He had almost followed you down the stairs, watching you leave with your skates hanging from around your neck.

The next morning in the courtyard, Ginny was the first to notice.

“What happened?” she said, skeptical of your dazed face and the constant flush you had from just being near Fred.

He sat a few feet away in his own world, avoiding George and Lee’s conversation about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip.

You smiled at Ginny, and she furrowed her brows at you. You were about to tell her, but Ron fell with a thud onto the ground next to you.

“It’s been three bloody weeks and Snape’s already assigned 100 pages of reading,” Ron groaned, pulling a heavy textbook from under his arm. Hermione and Harry trailed behind him, sitting with much more grace than Ron had.

Hermione also noticed your at peace look and looked at you analytically.

You were finally able to tell them in the hall, during an extended period between classes.

“He kissed me last night,” you said with a blush.

“I told you!”

“Finally!”

You hushed them, a bashful smile coming to your lips. Fred passed the three of you, his eyes locked on yours as he walked. Over his shoulder, he sent you a flirty wink. You felt weak at the knees and was glad that you were leaning against a wall.

“Maybe he’ll ask you to Hogsmeade,” Hermione said, tugging you off the wall and in the opposite way Fred was walking. You looked over your shoulder to see him walking backward, watching you walk away.

“Knowing Fred, he’ll probably pull some elaborate prank or get fireworks to spell your name out,” Ginny said, watching you look at her brother.

Fred did something like that, the two of you in the courtyard, laying in the grass. He had pulled you from dinner just after you were dismissed, and he led you to the courtyard. You both stared at the sky, and he looked at you. You met his gaze and then he pointed at the sky.

In huge, shining, red words read “Y/n, Hogsmeade this weekend?”.

You smiled at him and nodded. His hand snaked to cup your cheek still laying down. He pulled you towards him, and you moved to look down at him, propped up on your elbow. His lips met yours, and the sound of more bursting fireworks flooded the air around you.

It was nearly Christmas now. You and Fred have been dating for a few weeks, and he invited you back to the Burrow for the holidays.

You accepted, and you trudged your heavy bag into the fireplace. It was filled with gifts for the Weasley’s, and you were feeling quite confident about it.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione stayed at school for the holidays, leaving you, George, Fred, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in front of a fire on Christmas eve.

You had called your father on your flip phone he had given you as an early Christmas present. He was coming over tomorrow for Christmas morning, and you felt incredibly content.

Coming back to the couch, tucking your phone into your pocket, you slipped back under Fred’s arm, curling into his side. Mr. Wealsey had already had a go at the device, and he just watched amazed at it fitting into your pocket so easily.

The next morning you were woken up by the sound of your father’s booming voice downstairs. You sat up, stretching, and looked over to Ginny’s bed. It was empty, the covers were thrown aside. You slipped on a large cardigan, pulling it around your cold arms and going downstairs.

You were met with what felt like a dream. All the Weasley’s sat around the table, eating a huge Christmas breakfast and drinking tea. They each wore matching sweaters with their initials on them, and your father was standing with Mr. Weasley by the couch.

“Happy Christmas!” they all beamed at you.

Ginny tugged you over to the couch, sitting on one side of you while Fred sat on the other. Your father stood behind you on the couch, and a pile of presents were stacked in the room. You had brought your presents for the Weasley’s down last night, and you saw them on the ground.

Wrapping paper was everywhere, and the sound of happiness flooded the room. It finally came time for everyone to open what you had gotten them, and Fred went first. He tore away the red paper and held the plain box in his hands. He shook it, holding it up to his ear and smiling at you.

“Careful!” you told him, and he tore away the tape holding the box shut.

Inside, a brand new pair of garnet roller skates. He gasped, his large hands holding a skate up.

“Oh, my-” Mrs. Weasley said, already thinking of the awful thing he and George could do with those.

“It’s amazing!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you.

You returned the hug, and whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Fred.”

Soon, all the Weasley’s were holding different colored skates, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

#fred weasley #fred #weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley request #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts #hufflepuff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 8.2; Lantern Rite Part 1

You never had the chance to push Childe for answers on his vague statement, even after the two of you arrived in Liyue on the afternoon of the Lantern Rite. It was as busy as you remembered, though it was nothing compared to how it would be once the sun set. You weren't new to the festival, as you had gone a few times with Granny when you were a child, but that was a long time ago. You were around twelve years old the last time you had joined the festival.

Being here again was like a breath of fresh air.

It was a shame that breath of fresh air turned stale when Childe continued to prod at you. "So, ojou-chan, what will you be doing after dark?" He had intentionally turned it into a suggestive question, his smug brow raising slightly even after you glared daggers at him.

"I'm going to walk around, of course," you replied without giving him an inch. "And I'm going to find Aether and Zhongli, too."

"Oh? Aren't you forgetting someone?"

"What I do in my free time is none of your business," your jaw tightened. "You, Tartaglia, are literally a child. Why don't you step aside and let your elders do what they want? I am older than you, you know."

"I see you've picked up Signora's attitude," he moped and finally dropped the subject.

Perhaps you had, even though you hated her with all your life force after the trick she pulled at Angel's Share. Even so, you couldn't help but bite the harbinger that fed you after he made strange offhanded comments about his own behavior, or his self-proclaimed 'apology' gift, or the way he held you the first time you felt Xiao's suffering. You still couldn't figure out what was going on with him, and quite frankly, you could care less. That's what you told yourself, anyway.

Was he an ally or an enemy?

"Earth to Mezzetin." He rudely poked at your forehead. "Is everything alright? You've been obnoxiously loud all day and now you're quiet."

"You do realize you're equally as obnoxious?" You met his eyes head-on after pulling away from your thoughts. "I'm hungry."

"Ah, thought so. Here," he handed you a heavy sack of mora without warning. "I'll be at Northland Bank if you need anything."

"Eh? That's it?" You watched him begin to walk off, expecting much more of a threat to your life if you so much as thought about running.

"You said it yourself ojou-chan, you're an adult," he called out over his shoulder. "I'd expect you to act like one in these circumstances."

"Wha--!" You scoffed at his shrinking figure as he climbed the stairs to the Snezhnayan bank. "Ugh, whatever." Your gaze fell to the mora pouch in your hands. Maybe I'll stop by the funeral parlor first and find Zhongli.

When you did, the archon paled at the sudden surprise appearance. "How did you find yourself in Liyue Harbor?" He scanned your body as if you were to be handled with care. "I was under the impression you would remain at Zapolyarny Palace until further notice. How did you happen to gain the Tsaritsa's trust so quickly?"

"Eh, you'll have to ask Childe that." You didn't notice Zhongli's eyes narrow with contempt. "He won't tell me why they decided to have me accompany him here," you answered without skipping a beat. Though the archon was certainly thrown off guard, the two of you appeared to start right where you had left off like none of the events in the past two months had ever occurred in the first place. It was refreshing to be with a friendly presence again, and you sighed in relief, hiding a wince from the sharp pain in your ribcage.

The movement didn't go unnoticed by Zhongli. "Ah, yes...Allow me to brew you some tea. The leaves I've gathered recently have exceptional pain-relieving qualities, though they don't compare to that of Xiao's medications--"

"How is he?" Your interruption stopped the man in his tracks. "Is he okay?" If Zhongli knew you were feeling Xiao's pain, that meant the yaksha had been in contact.

"He's as well as he can be, given the circumstances he's been burdened with. Do not worry yourself with him. Please, take a seat."

You watched Zhongli's graceful movements as he prepared a kettle and brought the water to a boil, dropping the leaves in when it was hot enough. You were oblivious to the thoughts that ran through his mind as he sent a wry smile your way.

That day, I made a grave miscalculation, Zhongli thought back to the group's encounter with Childe in Fontaine. A guilty sigh escaped his lips as he poured the tea into two ceramic teacups.

.....................

Deception. Maybe Zhongli was a little too good at playing the part of an innocent bystander, if he had succeeded in fooling Aether not once, but twice. But this route would be the only way to ensure yours and Xiao's sanity...The archon grit his teeth as he parried Childe's relentless blows in the pouring rain. The harbinger didn't hold back even though this was all for show.

How long did the fighting go on? Twenty minutes? Thirty? An hour? Childe gave the signal to Zhongli as he summoned his fifth and final narwhal using the rain that fell around them. Most of the group was worn out from constantly changing tactics as the harbinger switched between his vision and delusion. Childe was so much stronger than the first time he faced off with Aether...but so was Aether. Zhongli understood the only way to make this plan work would be to sacrifice his two closest allies in one way or another.

"Retreat!" Zhongli gave the order and an exhausted trio followed it without question. Well, except for Aether.

"We can't leave Xiao!"

.................

He had hoped he gave Xiao the push he needed to seal the bond, but it apparently was not enough..."Here is your tea," he placed the teacup in front of you before sitting at the opposite end of the table. "Tell me, have they remained true to their word and put an end to your experiments?"

You blew at your steaming cup before taking a small sip. "Yeah...They've already begun testing on Fatui agents, but every single one of them dies. It's funny, actually. Dottore still can't figure out the correct ratio for my blood. I've watched hundreds die."

"And how are you?"

That question was loaded, but you swallowed the nervous chuckle that had bubbled in your throat. "I'm just glad to be so close to home." To him, you meant, even if the two of you never actually met up during your stay here. Your eyes trailed to the window, and Zhongli noticed the sadness in the depths of your gaze as you watched people decorate the buildings with xiao lanterns.

"Xiao will be especially busy today, fighting off the demons that rise from the festivities," he answered your looming question. "But I am sure he would find the time to meet you if he knew you were here."

"You know, I hold most of his memories, but I can never seem to know what he's thinking." Your low voice captured the archon's attention again after a few silent minutes. You were saying it more to yourself than to spark a conversation, eyes still gazing out the window. "Maybe I am chasing after a fruitless dream."

"Your love for Xiao is strong."

"Eh?" Your head snapped back to the present moment. "H-how did you--did he--?"

Your flustered composure drew out a low chuckle from Zhongli, and he set his teacup aside. "I've lived for six thousand years; I know a thing or two about human concepts and emotions. The entire group has known for quite some time."

"I was that obvious?" An insane amount of heat rose to your cheeks and you buried your face in your hands. "So did he know before I...?"

"Xiao may be a few thousand years old, but he understands humans less than I do. I can confidently say you caught him off guard."

You peeked out from behind your fingers. "Hm?"

"It is not my place to say anything more on the matter," his lips tugged into a friendly grin as he brought the teacup to his lips once again. "But I would not call it a 'fruitless' dream."

.................

The lanterns that lit the streets of Liyue illuminated the bustling crowds of people that were focused on getting food, souvenirs, and lanterns that were to be released later that evening. You had parted ways with Zhongli in an effort to find Aether, with no luck in locating the boy even after nightfall. Despite this, you navigated the festival alone in hopes of running into him as you eyed the food stalls.

That is, until the voices grew louder. You swayed on your feet from the unexpected wave of nausea that overcame you, and grabbed onto one of the support beams next to the stairs. Xiao was fighting something again, wasn't he? You had felt the damned creep up on you as the day progressed, but nothing prepared you for the jarring pains that were too similar to the first time you had felt this side effect. You nearly puked from the overwhelming sensation, coughing into your hand only for it to be splattered with blood.

Not again, you stared in horror as you hastily blinked away the splotches in your vision. A quick glance around confirmed that there were children in the immediate vicinity, and you didn't want to scar them with the sight of you on what was supposed to be a happy night. Your eyes flit to the distant building that housed the Northland Bank, and you were determined to make it there even if it was a bit too far for you to walk at the moment.

You stumbled through the crowd on unsteady feet and shallow breath until you bumped shoulders with a boy and tripped. "Ngh!" The impact worsened your dilemma, and your eyes caught those of the person you ran into.

"Sorry! Wait, are you okay, ma'am?" The white-haired boy retracted his outstretched hand and instead knelt at your side to offer his shoulder. "You..." This energy....could it be that I can finally...?

"U-um, excuse me." You struggled to your feet and tried to make your way to the bank again. This time you were immediately halted by the boy.

"Ma'am, are you by any chance experiencing paranormal activity?" His hard gaze made you hold your breath without realizing. When he saw your eyes flash as if someone had held a lantern to your face, his grip on your shoulder loosened ever so slightly. "My name's Chongyun. I'm an exorcist. Do you mind if we speak in private?"

He brought you to the docs, which were a little less crowded than the main area of the harbor. Chongyun watched as you sat down and steadied your breathing while attempting to sneakily wipe away the blood that dripped from the corner of your mouth.

I finally haven't scared them off, the boy thought as he stared at you in wonder. Why now, though? "Ma'am, can you tell me what's going on?"

"I-I appreciate your concern," you ground your teeth together while another wave of pain consumed you, "but I d-don't need your help."

"When did you start feeling this way?" Chongyun sat with his legs crisscrossed in front of you, and summoned a deck of cards from his pocket. Anger boiled as you watched him shuffle them in his hands and set them in the space between you one at a time.

"I wouldn't do that," you growled while your thoughts grew hazy.

"Don't worry, this won't hurt you." He started mumbling some sort of incoherent verses before flipping one of the cards.

"I said DON'T!"

Chongyun caught your hand before it could swipe the cards away from the pier's surface, and he locked eyes with you. He took a deep breath before speaking as if you were the one agitating him. "Those are the evil spirits talking. I can tell you're not that far gone. Sit patiently, and I can help you."

You blinked for a moment and regained some control over yourself, relaxing your shoulders once he let go of your wrist. "What is it you're trying to do?"

"Purge evil; it's my job. We exorcists have protected Liyue for generations," he flipped another card over, noting your tension rising again before dying down. Whatever he was doing with those cards seemed to piss off the voices in your head.

"Like adepti?" You grimaced when he replaced one of the cards with another.

"Yes, much like the Guardian Yaksha of Liyue," he replied calmly while testing your reaction with another card. "I have much respect for him, but--"

"Xiao? Have you seen him?" Your hand burned when you grabbed his, but you ignored it once you caught his attention. "Have you seen him recently?"

"You know him by name?" Chongyun was as confused as you were. "That's odd, I thought we were the only ones who--"

"Hey!" A high-pitched voice interrupted the conversation, and the two of you turned your heads toward the sound. Paimon was flying towards you, Aether running right behind her. "What are you doing here?! Are you okay? Did you escape? Did you kick Childe's butt?"

"I--" Aether stopped himself from hugging you when he saw the dried blood on your hand, his relieved smile fading into a concerned frown as his feet came to a halt. "...Are you okay?"

"You know each other?" Chongyun looked between the trio and summoned a new set of cards. These ones held terrifying symbolism of demonic entities you didn't wish to know the name of, and he placed them over the other ones that sat on the ground.

"Ngh!" A hand covered your eye in an attempt to put pressure against a sharp pain. "You can't help me! Enough of this!"

"...W-what's wrong with her?" Paimon trembled slightly when she heard the uncharacteristic aggressiveness in your voice. "Is she...possessed?!"

"Not quite," Chongyun returned his eyes to you in deep thought. "I've never seen this before..."

"Wait, your positivity didn't scare them off?" Aether suddenly looked a lot more concerned, and he moved so that he sat beside you. Chongyun scared every spirit away...if that didn't happen this time, it must've been a bad sign. "What happened to you in Snezhnaya?" His voice was a mix of both guilt and anger.

"Zhongli didn't tell you?" It took all your strength not to attack the three of them as Chongyun put another card down.

"The group went their separate ways after you..." Aether shook his head and put a hand on your shoulder when he noticed the malice in your stare. "What did Childe do to you?"

"It's just another side effect," you growled and pushed his hand off. "I'm not possessed like this guy is saying."

"Is this true?" Paimon's skepticism antagonized you further, but you bit your tongue.

"We should take you to Zhongli," Aether pulled you to your feet without hearing your objections. If your words were accurate, then there was no way the exorcist could help. "Sorry, Chongyun! She'll be fine!"

"W-Wait! Ah-" Chongyun already lost them in the sea of people that were getting ready to release their lanterns. It was almost time to fill the sky with the light of human prayers and wishes to the adepti.

..............

Once out of Chongyun's vicinity, the voices dispersed as if nothing had happened. "What the hell--" Your confused grumblings caught the attention of Aether as he guided you through the crowd. "This is so stupid."

"So you're able to feel Xiao's mental distress?" He glanced back at you for a brief moment once he figured out what he had witnessed. "At least now, he has someone that can understand a little bit of what he's going through, right?"

"I don't know," interjected Paimon. "Didn't Zhongli say the yakshas fell one by one from karma? Wouldn't feeling Xiao's karma kill you?"

"Probably." Your uninterested answer brought both of them to look at you, only to find that your eyes were surveying the crowd with expectation--or was it hope? Your companions exchanged knowing, but glum glances.

"He won't be here."

Aether's words went through one ear and out the other. "Yes he will."

"Um...Paimon doesn't think so. Xiao doesn't like crowds, remember?" You were so different than a few months ago...Each sound seemed to startle you or make you wince, and you had a peculiar distant look in your eyes. Your friends were growing more and more concerned about you.

Xiao, I'm here, you called out in your heart, not fully aware of it.

..........................

Coming up: A long-awaited reunion. The fears of a yaksha. A display of trust.

#genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #lantern rite #xiao lantern rite #genshin impact lantern rite

190 notes · View notes

bikerjongho · 3 years

Text

santiago | choi san

genre: realistic fiction, humor

characters: restaurant waiter!san ft dancer!wooyungi and dancer!stray kids

description: San is a charming and popular waiter at his local Mexican restaurant. But when a rival Mexican restaurant opens nearby and steals many of his customers, San finds himself needing to expand his talents in order to keep his beloved workplace in business.

word count: 6.9k

warnings: N/A

author’s note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAN!! you’re atiny’s stage demon and sweetie pie. I hope you have a lovely birthday and have lots of fun on your special day <33 also this post was inspired solely by this deadly post so thank u for sending me into outer space with your charisma mr choi

taglist: @itsapapisongo @mangomingki @irehlevant @blueprint-han

Once San had heard the giggling from the front of the restaurant, he knew that his shift that day was going to be substantially more exciting.

Dressed in a long-sleeved red button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and straight black slacks that matched with his polished and shiny black shoes, San was the perfect waiter at El Diablo Caliente, a local Mexican restaurant in his town. He sauntered over to the welcoming podium and gave a blindingly charming smile to the four girls that had just arrived.

And the smile did not disappoint. One of the girls burst into giggles while the rest of them managed to keep their blush to a light pink. "A table for four lovely ladies?" He said, and their blush increased as they nodded. "Wonderful." He slipped four restaurant menus under his arm and motioned for them to follow.

The restaurant interior, like San's shirt, was a wonderful ruby red. The lighting that casted over the booths and wooden chairs gave the restaurant a cozy and comfortable vibe. San enjoyed the vibe, it was one of many reasons why he loved working there. The other reasons were more superficial: his black hair matched perfectly with the color palette of the restaurant and he could swoon and charm as many customers as he liked as he worked. These girls were no exception to his magic and not immune to his allure.

"I'm San," he said as the girls sat down at the table he assigned them. "But you ladies may also know me as-"

"Santiago," a girl breathed, finishing his sentence for him. She looked a minute away from passing out onto the floor. San thought a beverage could fix that.

"Santiago," he nodded, and it was true. He had been working at El Diablo Caliente for so long that he had forgotten where the nickname had come from, but it was a nickname that was bestowed on him nonetheless by a few of the regulars. It had caught on, and he was then known as both San and Santiago. He quite enjoyed the name.

"You can call me either," he said, then took off the cap of the pen he was holding with his teeth with a flourish and quirked an eyebrow. "And what refreshments would you ladies like to start off with?" He asked, hovering the pen over his notepad.

The girls whistled off drinks, and when San went away they began to giggle. San smiled knowingly as he walked away from them and checked in on other tables that he waited for. His charm was something he was able to exude easily while at work, and the age of the customer didn't matter. San charmed older couples with his perfect manners and sweet smiles the same as he did with sugary compliments and alluring looks for younger crowds.

San finished up a humorous conversation with an older woman and her husband before strolling back to the girls with their drinks in hand. Once he was in sight, they sat up straighter and put on smiles. He returned them. He wondered if his presence or the food that would soon come would make them happier.

"Ladies, are we ready to order?" He asked as he dished out their beverages. "And let me know if there's anything I can help with regarding the menu."

"How hot is the habanero salsa?" One of the girls asked, looking up at him with curiosity and a little bit more.

San whistled and twirled his pen in his hands. "One of our hottest," he said, pursing his lips. "It's good, though. Quite delicious. Do you think you could take it?"

"I think I could," she said, staring through his eyes with a grand smile.

"As you wish," San murmured and scribbled it down with the rest of her order.

He finished taking the orders of the rest of the girls, all of whom had many questions to ask San about the menu. He theorized they just wanted to talk to him. He saw their faces fall in the corner of his eye when he walked away to place their orders.

"Santiago!" A familiar voice called out to him, and San turned to it with an enormous dimpled grin.

"María!" He returned and gave the older woman that was approaching him an enormous and warm hug.

María, or Tía María to San, was a long-time customer to El Diablo Caliente and an even longer friend to San. But despite their age and cultural differences, they found great joy and solstice in spending time together.

"¿Cómo estás, mijo?" María asked with a soft smile after they had broken apart. "Is the restaurant treating you well?"

It was a question that Tía María asked almost every time she saw San at the restaurant. San returned the smile and nodded. "Por supuesto, Tía María." He led her to her favorite spot in the restaurant, a window seat where the sun hit the vase of the flowers on the table and refracted a perfect rainbow onto it. San immediately pulled the chair back for Tía María to sit in, which caught the attention of the group of girls he was serving. He could hear them swooning from halfway across the restaurant.

"Those girls certainly love you," Tía Maria murmured as she settled herself in the seat and eyed the girls.

San shook his head with a smile. "They all love me, you know that. Everyone that walks into this restaurant does."

"Well, because you're charming," Tía María complimented. "Y," she continued, "guapísimo. You're a rare treat for them to be both kind and good-looking."

San felt a small blush creep up on his cheeks, something that only a few people could do to him. "Thank you," he murmured, then gave her his signature smile that he reserved for older crowds. "The usual, I assume," he said, tucking his pen behind his ear. There was no use for it when he knew Tía María's order better than his own. She nodded with a hint of a smile, and after a few more minutes of conversing, San went back to satisfy other customers and their orders.

It was finally time to deliver the group of girls' food when the cook signaled to him that the food was ready and neatly arranged on his serving tray.

"I suppose I'm not the only thing that's sizzling hot, eh?" He joked as he approached their table with the food, one of the items, a fajita, literally smoking.

"Oh, truly," the one that ordered the habanero sauce said, trying to stifle a smile. He gave her a captivating stare as he slid her food in front of her.

"Enjoy your meal, ladies," he said, adjusting his red collar as he said it. As he walked away from the girls and turned his attention to other customers, he watched the girl that had ordered the habanero sauce out of the corner of his eye. Focused on the food and not him for once, she spread it generously over one of her tacos. San had to bite his lip to keep from saying anything. He watched her, in slight amusement, as she took an enormous bite of the taco stuffed with the spicy salsa from hell.

The expectation San had for her reaction was fulfilled. Her eyes got incrementally bigger as the spice danced on her tongue, and her friends giggled as she began fanning her mouth and taking a large sip of her water beside her. "Perhaps it was too hot for you, after all," San murmured to himself with a smirk. "That's why we're called El Diablo Caliente."

And that day was not unusual of how San's waiter shifts usually went. While sometimes busy, San found happiness and pride at his job.

But that reality had all been turned upside-down when Ana's Taqueria surfaced.

Ana's Taqueria had snatched El Diablo Caliente's customers with a flourish of its hand even though it was only a few days old. With its lavish green walls and modern interior decorating, El Diablo Caliente customers flocked there like a moth to a flame. San's busy days as a waiter dropped dramatically, which meant that the lavish tips he had once received downsized dramatically. The mood of the restaurant dropped with the amount of customers as well, and San was plagued with the wistful thought that things would go back to normal. But it had been almost a month, and El Diablo Caliente's best days seemed to be behind him. All of the employees saw this. Tía María saw this. But most importantly, San's manager saw this.

"San," his manager began, sitting across from San in one of the restaurant'c chairs. She had called him to talk during an hour that wasn't busy - which was turning into most hours at El Diablo Caliente. Her hair being pulled back into a bun only accentuated the stress and tightness on her face as she spoke. "You obviously have seen and felt the effect of Ana's Taqueria. I've been thinking, and we have to make a few changes as to how we market ourselves if we want to gain back some of our customers." She sighed and shook her head.

"The restaurant owner, Ana, runs a tight ship. But it's effective, obviously. Their waiters are all just like you, bursting with charisma and passion. The place is cleaner than a biologist's laboratory. Their food, of course, is good. I tried it a few days ago." San's manager rubbed a tired hand over her face. "But," she said, raising her eyebrows, "it's not as good as ours. It's not as authentic. We still have a chance at coming back."

"That's all very hopeful," San said, "but why are you telling me this? Alone?"

"I'm telling you this," his manager smiled, "because you are our customer favorite. If anyone knows how to keep customers, it's you. Would you look at a few ideas I have for improving business?" She pushed a piece of paper in front of him.

San scanned the paper. His manager had certainly thought out of the box - from a an inflatable dancing balloon parked out in the front to weekly mariachi bands, San was thoroughly impressed. But the mariachis were expensive, and the balloon could only satisfy so many children. San read through the rest of the options and stopped at a dance team.

"A dance team?" He pondered, looking back up at her.

His manager smiled. "Just dancers from the town. We could ask the high school's dance team to perform every now and then."

"And the college students, since it's summer and they're home," San felt the need to note, being a college student himself.

His manager nodded. "Precisely." She then looked at him closer, like she wanted him to say something. San had a feeling she knew what she wanted him to say.

"Yes, I danced competitively in high school," San said after a minute. And though he was in college and wasn't a dance major, San was a part of a non-competitive dance team that did flash mobs in festivals and parades in the town.

His manager leaned closer to him. San leaned away from her, giving a nervous smile.

"You could really bring a lot of business if you danced, Santiago," his manager grinned. "I'm not trying to force you. But I've seen how you light up when you work with the customers. I've seen how customers light up with you. And if it doesn't work out, we'll come up with something else. But it's worth a shot, isn't it?"

San pondered his options. Accepting this would mean being around the restaurant a lot more. And although it was true he enjoyed working there, he found equal satisfaction in relaxing by himself at his home or walking around the town in the evening. It would also mean recruiting other members of his dance team. A few of them did live nearby, but it would still be work nonetheless to get them to cooperate.

But San thought of Tía María and the giggly girls he had served only a week before Ana's Taqueria had opened. He thought about the older couples that couldn't stop fishing bills out of their pockets for San after one of his usual waiter performances. This restaurant wasn't just a restaurant. It was important to both him, the other employees, and the customers that frequented there, even if they had found a new love as of late. San could have refused, but Santiago had an obligation to his place of work.

"Then let's do it," San said, and the manager's face erupted with joy.

"Thank you," she sobbed, and San smiled with the obliviousness of a person that had no idea what they had got themselves into.

Within a few days, San had contacted three dance college friends that lived close by to set up a few performances. All three of them were a part of the dance team at his college and seemed eager to get out of the house to do something fun. Yunho, San's friendly and sweet as sunshine friend from college, accepted with no problem. Mingi, another college friend, was just happy to not be cooped up in his house anymore. Wooyoung, his final dance friend from college, was eager to accept on the term that San provided them with food from the restaurant during their practices.

So when he met up with them outside the restaurant for their first practice, he had a bag of takeout containers filled with fajitas, tacos, and enchiladas. Wooyoung scurried up to San when he was in view and took the bag from his hands. "Thank you," he said cheerfully.

"Nice to see you too," San said and rolled his eyes good-naturedly. But Wooyoung simply put the bag of food on the ground and bounced back up with the energy of a newborn kangaroo. "Hello, Yunho, Mingi."

Both of them waved back, Mingi with his eyes wide and an even wider smile, and Yunho, who laughed as he waved. "So, what's on the agenda?" He asked while Wooyoung eyed the bag of food he had placed on the floor. Although San had briefed them all with the basics, none of them knew exactly what they were doing.

"This is dance for a Mexican restaurant," Wooyoung said logically. "We could salsa dance with each other." Mingi, who was standing next to him, took a few steps away from him.

"No," San laughed, and then pulled out his phone from his back pocket. "I was thinking of something a bit more... exciting." The three of them had their eyes on him while San scrolled through a playlist he had created a few hours earlier. "We can do a few songs that we already know from dance team, but like Wooyoung said, this is a Mexican restaurant. So I think it's only fair that we dance to some Latin artists." He clicked the song, and the sound of acoustic guitars filled the air.

Mingi began to nod his head and tap his foot. Wooyoung had gotten himself into the tacos and was eating one while swaying to the music.

"Oh, this is groovy," Yunho smiled. "What's the song?"

"This is La Camisa Negra by Juanes," San said with such a perfect pronunciation that the three of them whistled in awe.

"Ah, so this is why you're the hot and popular waiter," Wooyoung grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "You really know how to get them-"

San turned up the volume of the music to drown out Wooyoung. "So I was thinking we could dance to this song in black shirts. And perhaps we could have roses in our mouths to make it a little sexier."

"Business is going to boom," Mingi surveyed, and Yunho nodded in agreement.

"And a few more songs by Juanes and other artists as well. We can definitely don't have to do all of them, but we can survey them tonight and think of some light choreography. These will just be fun interludes for our practiced dances."

He must have looked optimistic, because the three of them smiled back. Mingi now had an enchilada on a plate. "Excelente," he said and raised his fork with a smile as if he was toasting them. "Let's do it."

Their dancing experience was an asset for the choreography. It didn't take long to come up with a small dance routine, and before San knew it, the sun was setting and all of the food was eaten.

"Thanks for making this easy," San said gratefully as the other three of them packed up their things. "And fun."

"No problem," Yunho smiled. "It will be a lot of fun. Especially when we pick up Wooyoung and shove a rose into his mouth."

"I will be incredibly sexy," Wooyoung chimed in, completely serious.

"And hopefully that will be promising enough for customers to come," San laughed, but he couldn't ignore the knot that was in his stomach. Despite their preparation and his confidence for himself and his teammates, he couldn't help but worry that they weren't doing enough. What if the restaurant had to close?

"I'm sure people will come," Mingi reassured. "And if they don't, then we can burn down the other restaurant."

"I don't think we'll need to do that," San laughed, but Wooyoung seemed more intrigued in this idea than San would have liked him to be. Even if business only increased by a little, San was certain that the business would at least be able to stay afloat for a few more months.

So two weeks later on the small outdoor stage of El Diablo Caliente, endless amounts of hungry audience members sat in front of the four of them. Dressed in black shirts that would come in handy for La Camisa Negra later, hair slicked back to give a more flattering and attractive look to the audience, and hidden roses in the corner of the stage, they were ready to completely rock the stage with their performance.

In the back of the audience stood San's beaming manager. San returned a smile to her, which caused a large group of girls to swoon.

"His smile simply makes me melt," one of them said, and Wooyoung snorted beside him.

"Let's not keep them waiting," Wooyoung then whispered to San with his eyebrows raised. "We've got an audience to entertain."

And entertain, they did. The customers of El Diablo Caliente were satisfied by the food that was brought to them and the incredible performance that the four of them displayed for their viewing. The crowd, mostly younger people, erupted when the roses appeared on stage and San felt the spiritual need to wink to them. The amount of tips and phone numbers that the four of them received was insurmountable. The show could confidently be marked as a success.

San was beaming at the end of their performance. Because even if this didn't change their business, they had still raked in a hefty amount of money from this night. Subsequent nights would only be bigger.

But across the street, Ana's Taqueria was taking notes. Sitting at a comfortable distance from El Diablo Caliente was Ana herself. She was only a few years older than San, but she had the drive and determination of someone that had 40 years of entrepreneurship under her belt. A mischievous smile danced on her lips as she pressed her phone against her ear and let it ring. The recipient picked up after a few rings.

"I'm going to need a favor from you," Ana said softly as she watched San saunter off of the stage and into the crowd of customers with a rose in his mouth and a smile on his face. The smirk struggling to appear on her face broke through onto her features. "You know how to dance, right?"

If the drive home from the dance concert was exhilarating, the drive into work the next day was unparalleled. San walked into El Diablo Caliente feeling like he had just won the lottery.

"You were spectacular," San's manager said as greeting. He hadn't seen this big of a smile on her face in weeks. "The other three were also amazing. But San, you were truly possessed with some kind of dance God." She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. "These are the earnings from last night."

San's mind bobbled at the number. It was bigger than what they had received in a week ever since Ana's Taqueria opened. "That's phenomenal," he said breathlessly.

"You're phenomenal," the manager countered. "San, you saved the restaurant."

Needless to say, it was one of San's best days as a waiter. Customers that had fallen in love with his performance appeared today to have more of their delicious food and see the handsome waiter and dancer.

"Do you still have the rose?" A young man asked with stars in his eyes around midday. San was more than happy to oblige - when he brought the food over to him, a rose hung in his mouth. He was then subsequently tipped almost half of the meal price.

But San's good day, no matter how good it was, didn't last forever. Walking out of the restaurant to go home, San noticed a new sign on Ana's Taqueria's wall. His stomach dropped to his feet.

The sign advertised a dance night with "four phenomenal men" in two weeks from today. San read through the sign again and again. Each time, it sounded more and more like the exact show that he and his friends had put on the night before. He whipped out his phone and took a picture of the sign and sent it to his manager, his head swimming with thoughts and worries.

They couldn't do that, not when El Diablo Caliente had just hosted a dance night. San strapped on his seatbelt and started his car, but sat in the parking lot, staring at the rival restaurant. There wasn't much he could do. They hadn't trademarked or claimed dancing as their own original thought - Ana's Taqueria could do whatever they wanted to do. But that still left the knot in San's stomach unresolved, and he was filled with a sudden burst of anger and resentment for the restaurant.

San turned off his car and hopped out. He made his way across the street and walked into Ana's Taqueria.

"I'd like to speak with the manager," San said as greeting when he threw open the door. He must have looked odd still dressed in his work uniform. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but a good amount of customers still stared at him as he strode past the welcome podium and headed towards the cashier.

"Is Ana here?" He asked as evenly as he could to the young girl that was seated at the cashier with wide eyes.

"She is," the cashier said slowly to him, her eyes flickering around the store. San felt bad for a minute - perhaps he was being too harsh to a poor girl that had no decision in the dance night - but then someone that only could have been Ana appeared behind the counter, and the rage settled comfortably back into his chest.

She couldn't have been much older than him. Ana had curly blonde hair that was pulled back into a carefree low bun on the nape of her neck and had piercing eyes. She grinned with an alluring smile when she saw him and San's anger flared up.

"Hello," he said, giving her a small nod. "I'm San. A waiter from El Diablo Caliente."

"Your performance last night was truly something," Ana said softly and gave him a sweet smile. San wanted to punch her in the face. "I didn't attend, but I could see you and your friends performing from over here. You're all very talented."

"Thank you," San managed to say. "I noticed you're also having a dance night."

Ana's smile widened. "I do hope you don't mind," she said. "We're friends, are we not?"

San's mouth twitched. "Not just because we both work at Mexican restaurants that are close by," San said, trying to prevent any sort of emotion from appearing on his face.

Ana frowned. "Well, that's not very sportsmanlike, is it?" She said, resting her elbows on the counter. "We're simply hiring dancers as your restaurant did. There's nothing stopping me from doing this. It's simply a good idea."

Not when you're tearing our business to the ground, San wanted to say. Not when you're stealing and profiting off of our idea just because we thought of something better than you did.

"It is a good idea," San said instead. "But we thought of it first. It's abundantly clear that you copied us rather than simply taking inspiration. Four dancers? You at least have been subtle."

Ana's eyes shimmered with something that made San's stomach flip. "Well, I've already hired the dancers," she shrugged. "They're professional, actually. We paid good money for them."

San thought about how El Diablo Caliente's dancers were just college students and his blood boiled. "We're both Mexican restaurants, yes?" He started, not sure of where he was going with this. His emotions were driving this talk. Ana watched him in amusement like this was some mildly entertaining comedy show.

"Then let's have a dance competition," San offered. "If we're as good as you said we were, and your dancers are professional, it should be fun. Just some friendly competition."

Ana's eyes were shining now. "Sounds like a wonderful idea. At our restaurant? Our stage is much bigger than yours."

"Sure," San said evenly. "And also on the night that your poster says on your wall. Think of it as a community event."

They both knew that this competition wasn't just against the dancers - it was a competition against the Mexican restaurants. Ana had made this competition personal by twisting El Diablo Caliente's unique ideas into her own. San was ready to run her into the ground.

"I'll have the sign changed by tomorrow morning," Ana said idly. "It was truly a pleasure meeting you, San. Train hard. You'll need it." He could swear that he saw fire flare up in her eyes. She gave a goodbye wave, then disappeared into the back of the restaurant, her curly hair bouncing against her neck as she trailed away.

When San unlocked his phone in his car only minutes later, his phone was blown up by texts from his manager.

Copiers! She had texted. The nerve. What the hell?

San quickly texted the deal he had made with Ana to his manager, who responded with excitement. You four will destroy them, she said, and San could only hope she was right. In actuality, he had no idea how he was going to pull this off. But luckily, he wasn't alone.

"They sound awful," Yunho said during their second practice. Now that it had rolled into July, the sun beat down on them harder than ever. All four of them were sporting muscle t-shirts to feel more comfortable, but it was still sweltering.

"Right?" San could only agree. "They saw how well we did and decided to copy our idea."

"Do you have any idea who the other four will be?" Mingi asked, and then took a long drink of water. Wooyoung was crouched next to him, listening intently.

San shook his head. "I just know that they're professionals," he sighed. "Ana contacted my manager and said that there will be judges. I don't know exactly what will happen if we win or lose."

"It sounds like we just need to please the crowd, though," Wooyoung pointed out. "If it's just a dance-off, there's nothing that's directly on the line for the restaurants themselves. If I enjoy a performance enough, I won't care what the judges say."

"But we still should win," San said. "If we want to knock down Ana a few pegs." San crouched down and turned on his phone. The familiar sound of Juanes blasted through the speakers, and the rest of them stood up straighter.

"Let's kick ass, shall we?" San said while stretching his arms, and the others nodded with vigor.

The days flew by. Between waiting tables and practicing with Wooyoung, Mingi, and Yunho for the competition, San was booked. More than once he had collapsed onto his bed after he got home from his shift and fell asleep immediately. When he was awake, he spent most of his idle time worrying about the dance battle.

He was confident in their group. He admired and respected the other three tremendously and felt pride in his own abilities. But there was still that fear and that unknown element of the professional dancers. How good would they be? San imagined them wiping the floor with his team and his stomach did a backflip. They had to win. He had to win.

The days ticked down to the competition, and soon the four of them were entering Ana's Taqueria on the night of the competition. They wore clothes similar to they had in their first performance, but instead had matching shiny red vests. "They match with the roses really well," Mingi had said with his rose in between his teeth.

Once they were inside, Yunho scouted the restaurant and spotted Ana's professional group of dancers. He nudged San and nodded his head towards them.

The first aspect of them that San noticed about them was how young they were. The group seemed the same age as San's group, perhaps even younger than them. On the back of all of their black shirts in shiny lettering was Stray Dancers.

"They're not professional," Yunho hissed. "They're just another college group. I know them. Did Ana just tell us they're professional dancers to scare us?"

"Felix!" Wooyoung cried, oblivious to their nervous chatter, and clapped the back of one of the rival dancers. San, Yunho, and Mingi tensed.

"He knows one of them?" San asked to no one in particular.

"Wooyoung knows everyone, it seems," Mingi said as Wooyoung began to laugh with Felix and the other three dancers as if they were best friends.

"I guess it will be good for us if the tension isn't there," Yunho said, and they all nodded. "It's more of a friendly competition that way. We just need to beat them for Ana."

San let Wooyoung fraternize with the enemy for a while longer before he walked up to him and pulled on his shirt. "Woo, let's get ready," he said cheerfully, though his insides were starting to swim.

"San!" Wooyoung cried. "Meet the Stray Dancers. I've worked with them before." San opened his mouth to stop him, but Wooyoung had already started his extroverted spiel. "This is Felix, this is Chan, this is Hyunjin, and this is Minho," he said, pointing to each one of them, who waved kindly to San in return. San didn't love the idea that Wooyoung was friends with their opponents, but it helped ease the anxiety in his stomach.

"Hi," he said to each of them and nodded. "Nice to meet you guys," he said quickly, "but Wooyoung, we have to go." Without waiting for a reply or protest, San snagged Wooyoung and dragged him away from the Stray Dancers before he could strike up more conversation.

"I was having a nice time," Wooyoung whined when they were a good distance away and back with Yunho and Mingi.

"You can talk to them after the competition," Mingi said wisely, and San was relieved that someone felt similar to him. "The show starts soon anyway. We should stretch now, even if we're not the first ones on stage."

That was at least one good aspect of it all - San could at least gauge how good the Stray Dancers were before they took the stage. "Right, let's find a place," Yunho agreed, glancing around the restaurant to find a place to stretch. San was about to point out a room that seemed to be unoccupied when he saw Tía María in the crowd.

"Go on without me, I'll be there in a minute," San said, and rushed over to her. "María," he said, the happiness in his voice not unnoticed. "I'm so glad you're here. Thank you for coming here to support me."

"Make sure to wipe them to the floor, Santiago," Tía María said as greeting, and San was surprised at how upfront she was. She must have noticed the shock to cross his face, so she continued to speak. "I dislike Ana. I just want to see that smile gone from her face." She nodded over to the other side of the restaurant, and Ana was there. She was casually chatting with a customer, but San felt the resentment bubble in his stomach regardless.

"We will, Tía," San said, even if he didn't quite believe it himself.

Tía María smiled. "It's just like being a waiter, Santiago. You are here to cater to the public. You've already proven yourself to be wonderful to people - full of expression and charms. But you also are humble and kind. This competition is no different. Show them Santiago and they will come back to El Diablo Caliente in no time." She stood up and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"Estarás asombrando, mijo," she said, and San's heart filled up with love. He was ready if Tía María believed he was ready.

Shortly after his warmup with the other three dancers, they situated themselves at a table to watch the Stray Dancers perform. While Ana walked up on stage and introduced the Stray Dancers, San glanced around and found the judges near the front of the stage. They didn't seem particularly uptight or fancy - all three of them wore casual clothing. It was odd how laid back Ana had staged this. Did she really think this competition would be easy to win?

And then the Stray Dancers began to perform. Unbeknownst to San before, their black Stray Dancers tshirts had little pins of the Mexico flag above their heart, and they danced with castanets that made pleasant clicking noises. San was impressed with their ingenuity. The clicks frequently matched up with their footwork and gave the illusion that they were tap dancing. Not only that, all four of them were equally mesmerizing and pleasing to watch.

Minho was frequently in the center and made most of the crowd members swoon. Hyunjin did a move with his legs that caused someone to whistle during their performance. Chan had wondrous arms that were mesmerizing to look at each time he raised them and clicked his castanets. Felix was more fluid than a river and made his intricate dance moves look easy. But as good as they were, San felt pride in himself and his teammates. He thought they could win.

The crowd burst into applause once they were finished. "It's time," Yunho whispered and stood up, the rest of them following suit. Wooyoung sauntered up to the stage first and high-fived all four of the Stray Dancers as they descended from the stage. San risked a glance at Ana and found her eyes already on him. She had a sinister sort of smile that, to a random onlooker, looked like she was amused. He looked away and tried to shake her steel eyes from his vision.

Ana, like she did with her own group of dancers, introduced San's group to the audience. "And San Choi," she finished, and the crowd whooped and cheered as he gave a bow and smile to the crowd. As Ana walked off of the stage, she glanced at San. However, this time, he was looking at her already. San raised his eyebrows and smiled a devious smile. Then, Juanes began to play, and San's body was taken over by the dancing demon that he had cultivated dearly in their weeks of practice.

The performance was exhilarating. It was a mass catharsis of the tension and stress San had built up from this competition, and the audience only saw it as marvelous stage presence. He took the time to do certain moves with more fluidity and sensuality. The rose was in and out of his mouth. He managed to fit in multiple winks, smirks, and run his hands through his gelled and dark hair. Every movement from the first chord of the song to the last made the entire culture of Mexico smile down on him. He knew this because when the music ended and the clapping started, Tía María's eyes were shining with a fondness and pride that could only come straight from the heart.

"San, you were insane on stage," Yunho commented when they walked off of the stage amidst the cheers and clapping. "What possessed you?"

"Spite," San said. He had found Ana's eyes once again. She seemed calm, as though San had not just delivered a show-stopping performance in a tiny Mexican restaurant. He gave her a wink and did not give any more attention to her. The judges may have had the final say in the competition, but San knew that customers would flock back to El Diablo Caliente regardless of the outcome. Their cheers were more like roars and were infinitely louder than the ones that the Stray Dancers had received.

"That was sick," Chan said to San as he passed them by. The rest of them gave smiles.

"Thank you, you four were also amazing," San said idly, thinking about the results. They reached their table and sat down.

"I think we won," Wooyoung whispered to them immediately after they were situated.

"No doubt," Mingi agreed.

"I hope," San said to them. He watched the judges shuffle around in their seats and finish taking notes. Then, one of them stood up and began to walk towards the microphone. San's stomach became a gymnast.

"Here we go," he whispered, his heart rate picking up. "Hey, wait a minute," he said, turning to Mingi. Mingi was the one that had told the judges their team name, like how Ana's group was called the Stray Dancers. "What exactly did you name us?"

Mingi smiled at him.

"Both performances were spectacular," the judge said into the microphone, surprisingly jovial. The Stray Dancers and San's group snapped their heads to the stage to listen. "But we think this group did an exceptional job of pumping up the crowd while also keeping the integrity of Mexican music, and therefore deserves the win. Congratulations to Santiago and his Rosy Men, you're our winners."

"Santiago and what?" San gaped at Mingi while the restaurant exploded into cheers. "Mingi, you-"

"We won," he said, clapping him on the back. "Go and celebrate. Don't think too much about it." He was smiling so wide. San sighed and matched his smile. They had won.

Tía María was glowing as she approached their table. She promptly went over to San and kissed his cheek before giving him the biggest hug he had ever felt from her. "Maravilloso," she whispered while she rubbed his back. San felt tears touch his eyelids and he hugged her tighter. They had done it, and had made one of San's most beloved people happy.

After Tía María left San's embrace, Ana approached them with a stiffness. "Congratulations," she said, giving them a smile. But San had seen Ana smile before, and this was not her usual snarky smile. This was a fake smile, a smile that had been punched with the loss of her dance team. San relished in her discomfort.

"Thank you," San said, giving her a smile that was genuine and a little bit more. "Maybe next time, don't try to copy us at our own game." He smiled as her face contorted with anger and frustration. She stormed off away from them, and the four of them high-fived each other.

The next day. business didn't just boom, it exploded. San walked into El Diablo Caliente the next day and it was like Ana's Taqueria had never opened. The restaurant was packed and the other servers were happy to see him. The customers were especially happy to see him. The girls that he had served months ago waved at him. "You were so cool on stage!" One said as he passed by, and San took the opportunity to give her a wink.

"I know."

He left their gasping expressions for the back of the restaurant where he clocked in and got ready to work. As he rolled up his sleeves, he couldn't help but look at how much more alive El Diablo Caliente was now. Although the store hadn't had a paint job recently, the red walls glowed with newness. People in the restaurant smiled extra widely as they feasted on their meal.

But that was not what tickled San the most about his restaurant. The icing on the cake was the amount of cars in the parking lot. Less than half of the amount of cars that they had were in the lot of Ana's Taqueria. Everything, finally, had fallen back into a blissful harmony, and San was elated to be a part of the melody of the restaurant once again. San let his charming façade wash over him like a waterfall and felt the tingling warmth of a new day in the restaurant he appreciably called home.

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writingoneshots · 3 years

Note

Hey uhm first of all I just wanna say, your fics are really good!😭❤ secondly, I appreciate the amount of effort you put in to your fics so thank you so much!

How about having an argument with Zoro, Sanji, Ace and Law and f!s/o accidentally says "i hate you", what would their reaction be like?

Angst but fluff and comfort ending if u may omg agsjsvs

N e wayz, have an amazing day bub!❤🥺

Sensitive Topic

Hello softiebadbitch :) ! love this name.

I wasn't really sure how to add 4 readers into one story but I think I found a good solution. It's clear to me that you wanted to have 4 separate stories but this would have been too long for one post and you can't use one request for several posts.. sadly. Hope this fixed it - I made one general story and continued with 4 different endings. All of them are in the reader version but the 'extra girlfriends' have their specific names to not make it too complicated.

Kind of like this way of writing.. wouldn't mind more requests like this :) ! Thanks for letting me explore this new style even though it probably wasn't intended.

And thank you so much for the kind words. I really appreciate it <3 especially because I don't know if anything I write is good enough for Tumblr or literally any request. Thank you, thank you, thank you <3 !

- Ace x reader - ZoroxRey, SanjixAna, LawxValeria (if one of these names is yours.. you're welcome) - 2,774 words (but it's a 4 in 1 story) - lovey-dovey, little pain in our chest, signs of smut, still SFW, cute moments

Spending some girl-time with your closest best friends was a really rare occasion after spending years on many pirate ships. Especially bonding with female human beings was hard. But since you were dating Ace, you finally got the chance after meeting his friends. Some of them were already in a relationship with their current partners and the rest just started dating. After a successful shopping day, you spend the rest of the evening in the fanciest diner on this island and booked a whole room just for you and your better halves. The men were probably still training or doing something unimportant, but none of you cared. "Can you believe the guy from the bakery? He dared to follow us around just to carry our bags..?", Rey laughed and finished her second glass of wine. "Just please don't tell Sanji about it. He is already heartbroken because I went shopping without him.", Ana pouted and sighed a bit sad. You rolled your eyes, "Stop whining. This is the first time after eight months that we could hang out together. And we didn't have to worry about carrying something." "Plus, the guy seemed to be really into you, Ana.", Rey smirked and gave her a flirty wink. "Stop saying that! Sanji could come here any minute! You know how jealous he can get!", Ana warned Rey and glared at her. This was the worst timing ever. "Jealous? Why?! Did anyone touch you?!", Sanji's eyes were already in flames and he almost teleported himself to his girlfriend after hearing these words. The men decided to join you all on the right - or maybe wrong? - time and chose to mock the conversation. "Probably some weird girly things, we don't wanna know about.", Ace grinned and sat down right in front of you. The men sat down on the other side of the table and didn't even choose to greet them with a hug or a kiss, except for Sanji, who could barely let his fingers of Ana. You raised an eyebrow at Ace's comment, "What?" "Just kidding! You had probably something important to talk about.. like which nail color you're supposed to get next week.", Ace added and high-fived Zoro. "Or what hairstyle you should make to match your earrings!", Zoro couldn't stop laughing at his own comment. Ace turned to Law for another high five but he just glared at the topless pirate. "What? You're leaving me hanging like this?!" "Don't drag me into this.", Law turned away from him and faced Valeria, who seemed pleased by his answer. The others were not though. You were still confused by Ace's behavior but slowly understood that he tried to be as manly as possible in front of the others. Sanji sat down on his place after failing to convince Ana to have her sit on his lap. "What do you mean? An hour ago you were talking about how Valeria tried to draw her eyeliner but ended up looking like a panda!", Ace laughed and high-fived Zoro again, who seemed to feel a bit unsure about Ace's comment now. Rey looked down at her drink, already realizing how quickly the mood changed since they started making fun of all of you. Valeria was shocked. She didn't know how to respond and just shook her head, ignoring Law's desperate look on his face. "That's enough, Ace.", you talked silently and poured yourself some wine, not caring about the waiter offering to do it for you. "What.. I-", Ace froze after seeing your face. It pained him to see you being disappointed and he didn't know how that happened. "I am sorry if I have offended anyone.. we were just talking.. ", he cleared his throat and began to feel uncomfortable. He didn't see that coming. "Then maybe you should stop it", you were still not able to look up. "Stop what? Talking?" "Yes.", your eyes flashed up to him now. He didn't expect to see the anger in them. Ace has never seen that glare directed at him. It felt way too painful. "Okay, everyone. Let's calm down now and enjoy this dinner.", Sanji tried to cool down the situation and looked at the food, which didn't look good enough for his girlfriend. "Gonna be hard when you're here.", Zoro commented under his breath and was already eating his meal. "Huh?!", Sanji clenched

his teeth and tensed all his muscles to not smack Zoro for that comment. "Can you just calm down, you two?!", Ana took a deep and annoyed breath, trying to stay calm in this uncomfortable scenario. Ace couldn't stop but to look at you, ignoring him now. "Valeria-" "Don't.", she stopped Law from whatever he was trying to say. Everyone was quiet. Nobody was eating. "..anyone want some extra bread?", the waiter whispered and stood behind you, holding up a basket with fresh bread.

-----

Ace x reader When you arrived in the room of your hotel, you still didn't dare to say a word. You were still furious about his behavior, especially because this wasn't the first time he dared to say something like that. "(Y/N), I am-" "I don't want to hear it." "Please, just let me-" "I said, that I don't want to hear it.", you hit your jacket onto the bed and let go of it a few seconds after. Taking a deep breath, Ace pressed his lips together and didn't know what to say or do. You two never had a fight like this and he feared to say something wrong, which would make you leave him. "I don't want us to go to bed angry.", he whispered sadly and stepped closer to you. You just froze and closed your eyes, trying to remain calm. "You always do this.. every time you make fun of something I do. I stopped talking about my hobbies and literally anything that makes me happy and you caught a glimpse of us having fun, and immediately you chose to mock it..." Ace frowned at that and thought back to all the times he tried to have fun with you. He never understood any of your hobbies or what girls liked, which is why he tried to spend some time with you by making jokes but it never occurred to him that it was actually hurting you. "Why did you never tell me that? I didn't know that it hurt you.." "Because I shouldn't need to tell you! I hate when you try to make fun of me or other people like that! You literally took the joy of me doing my hair, trying to learn how to skateboard or even baking muffins! I hate this, I hate the fights and I hate yo-" Both of you froze right on your spots. "Oh my God..", tears were rolling down your eyes and your knees weren't able to support you any longer. You immediately went down to your knees and hid your face in your hands. "I didn't want to say this.. it slipped.. I don't hate you, Ace!" Your heart was aching at what you were about to say. Ace didn't feel any better. He sat down right next to you and watched you wiping your tears away. "I have caused this... I am sorry, (Y/N).. This will never happen again, I promise. I just wanted to be a part of something in your life.", he took a deep breath and pulled you onto his lap. "I will find another way. Just please.. don't hate me." You shook your head and hugged him tight back, hiding your face in his neck and never ever letting him go. --- Zoro x Rey Zoro came out of the shower, just a towel around his hips and water still dripping down his naked chest. This was usually a sight, which made you jump right onto him but not this time. The pirate hunter had hoped for you to fall for it because he was really bad at apologizing but he knew you had a stronger will than him. He would have fallen for it. You were already in bed, cuddled into your pillow and ignoring him professionally. "Rey.. I can feel that you're not sleeping.", Zoro approached the bed and sighed when you didn't respond. "..are you mad at me?", he whispered now carefully. You raised an eyebrow at this provocative question and pressed your lips together, trying not to give back a stupid answer. But your mouth responded faster than your brain. "No, I am super happy about today's events. We can repeat that tomorrow again, if you feel like making fun of women-things.", you added in a sarcastic tone. "So.. that's a yes?" You turned around, the pillow tight in your grip and pulled the pillow with a loud thud onto his face. When you took the pillow away, you narrowed your eyes at his provocative smirk. "Definitely, yes." "Shut up.", you sighed and were about to turn around again but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to the other side of the bed until you were facing him. "Stop running away from your problems all the time, lady." "I really hate when you are doing this!", you tried to free your arm from his grip. "What?" "Using your strength to make me do whatever you want to!" "This is literally the reason, why you started dating me. Because I am not a weakling, who gets dragged by everyone like your stupid exes. But if you really hate it, then that means you must hate me

too, right?", he leaned forward, making sure not to miss any sort of reaction in your eyes. You looked at him surprised and didn't know what to say. After a few seconds, you shook your head and sighed a bit. "I couldn't hate you for being you. I hate the fact that you're making fun of girl-things all the time." "Alright, I'll stop then.", Zoro promised and let go of your hand. He turned around and went to the pile of washed clothes on the couch to pick out something to sleep in. Right.. I forgot how easy it can be in a relationship. You talk, promise and go on. Not believing what he just did, your brain had a thousand thoughts about what would happen during this night but it did not involve any sort of clothes. You stood up, went to him, and pulled away his towel. Zoro turned around, surprised by your decision, "Oj.. bad girl." --- Sanji x Ana After this emotional and very unusual dinner, you decided to have some tea. Sanji was still in your bedroom preparing a bath for you even though you've told him that you weren't in the mood for it. You hid in the kitchen and cooked some water, while preparing the rest. While you were looking for the honey, which he was hiding from Luffy, Sanji entered the kitchen. "Oj, what are you doing?", he approached you and immediately figured that you were making some tea. "Just something to warm myself up with a sweet taste.", you smiled a bit exhausted and felt Sanji's arms around you in an instant. "I am sorry for today.. I know that I promised you to not get triggered because of that marimo but his bare existence is to annoy me.", Sanji tried to brighten the mood and gave you a soft kiss on your head. "No, it's okay.. I am already used to it. I just wanted to have a chill day with the girls and this fight kind of ruined everything again.", you shrugged and leaned softly onto him, enjoying his muscular arms supporting you. "Oh.. so you don't hate me, right?" You laughed softly. The relationship had only just begun and Sanji had to question every move of yours. "I could never...", you looked up to him and kissed his warm lips softly, forgetting about everything that had happened in the last hour. --- Law x Valeria Law used his room ability to create a bubble surrounding the two of you. He carefully stepped closer and put his arm around your waist only to see you turn your head away from him. He tensed his jaw, trying to hide the sudden strike of pain in his chest and just decided to ignore it for now. "Shambles." You found yourself in your and Law's bedroom. After a few seconds, you just freed yourself from his arm and went straight into the bathroom, locking yourself in. Law just stood there, not knowing what to do or say. He had definitely hurt your feelings but he didn't know how to apologize for it. "Val..", he closed the distance slowly to the door and tried to listen to whatever you were doing inside. It sounded like you were throwing something away and sniffling quietly. Fuck.. "Valeria.. what are you doing?" "Cleaning.", your response was sharp. Law knew that he was a genius, who could solve the hardest puzzle on this planet or even have a detailed discussion with Robin, but even Luffy or Kid would have been able to figure out what you were doing right now. "Stop throwing away your things. I like it when you put on your make-up." "Are you sure about that? Or are you going to call me a dog or a salamander the next time you talk to others?!", you wiped away your tears and threw away the rest of the make-up, which you bought today. "Stop overreacting. I was just talking about your eyeliner the other day and you hated it too. Take out the make-up again and forget about it.", he sighed and knew that this wasn't something he should say but he also knew that it would trigger you enough to get out of the bathroom. "You know what-!", you opened the door harshly and stepped out, pointing your index finger at him. Law had a hard time hiding his cheeky smile because he already knew you well enough. "I hate what you're doing! Always talking about me behind my back! I hate

you for it!", you crossed your arms at your chest and took a deep breath, trying to control the last brain cells, which are still able to hold you back from kissing his cheeky smirk. The pirate captain raised an eyebrow at that and needed a second to choose his next words wisely. "Did you just tell me that you hate me?" "I said that I hate you for it! Not that I hate you!" "This is literally the same..", Law tilted his head a bit and couldn't quite accept that. "I hate it when you talk about me behind my back before talking to me personally. You were the first one to say 'I love you' but not directly to me.. no! You said it to Bepo first and he told me. Then you said that you preferred my soft cookies more than the brownies but again: you didn't tell me! You told Sanji! And to the newest 'Law is a wimp and can't tell his girlfriend anything personally', you told the boys that I looked like a damn panda!" "But a cute one..", Law smirked now and stepped closer, putting his hand on your cheek softly. You were just about to smack it away but Law was faster. He pushed you against a wall within a second and pressed his body against yours. His hand rested on your neck and he pressed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "Say it again, Valeria..", he purred your name in his dangerously sexy voice. "Say that you hate me." You frowned at his reaction and didn't really understand how this turned him on. "No, you weirdo." "Say it.", he commanded now and leaned closer to you, your lips barely touching. "Make me.", your last brain cells just said their goodbyes. A harsh sound of him pulling out his belt appeared beside you and you couldn't look away. His eyes were focused on yours as if he'd die if he'd miss anything for a second. "Don't tell Bepo.. but you're my favorite panda." "You fucking... I really hate you now.", you spoke through your teeth and tried to push him away. The most heartwarming laugh escaped Law's lips and he immediately locked his lips with yours, not giving you a chance to respond to him laughing. Law pulled your arms behind your back and tied them with his belt. "That's my girl.", he whispered in between your kiss and didn't let go of you for the rest of the night.

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babytsum · 4 years

Text

no one knows pt. 2 - m. atsumu

(a/n): my fic rec account reached 700 a few days ago so i wrote a lil one shot and @traferza helped :)))) thank u bro

warnings: soft smut (I did not intend for this to be a smut fit but here we are), fingering, oral (f receiving), penetration

no one knows - m. atsumu

"come on, (y/n)! you haven't seen me play in ages!"

tobio stared back at you with hopeful eyes. your best friend has changed a lot since that last time you hung out with him in high school. his black hair was parted, he was much taller, buffer, too. but he was still that meathead volleyball jock you knew.

"okay, fine. you still the king?"

"no! that's exactly why you need to see me."

the day finally came and you waved to tobio who was sporting his white schweiden adlers jersey. you knew he had changed from his days at karasuno, though you weren't able to see the process firsthand since you moved to tokyo. sadly, you were only able to catch a few of his games whenever karasuno went to nationals.

and when you recognized a certain blonde on the opposing team, you broke a little bit. sure, it had been a few weeks, so of course it's a fresh scar.

but you didn't think it would hurt this much.

you berated yourself for not asking who tobio was playing against, but it was too late for that now. you couldn't leave the game, he was looking forward to you being there after many failed attempts to attend. all you could do was hope that the blonde didn't recognize you in the crowd.

it feels like it was just yesterday that miya atsumu broke your heart in the pouring rain. the awkward silence, the grey sky, the solemn tone of his voice. it was too soon to see him again. it only took the mere sight of him to bring you back.

though, you still gave the adlers a polite cheer with every point they scored. you flashed a few supportive smiles to tobio. you still hugged him after his game, praised his skills that have definitely advanced since the last time you've seen him. you met ushiwaka, who looked terrifying but was actually very polite, and hoshiumi, who was very enthusiastic about your praise.

your reluctance showed when tobio insisted that you go out to lunch with them, which included some of the players in the jackals. you still went, after all, you haven't seen him in awhile. and what were the chances that one of those players was atsumu?

100%. the chances were 100%.

while bokuto and hinata were warm, engaging in your many stories that embarrassed tobio with even sakusa showing slight interest, atsumu was stone cold. he quietly ate his food across from you, only speaking when someone asked if he was okay. he lied, of course, reassuring everyone he was tired.

it was like this for weeks anyways.

though, you ignored him. you ignored the short glances he would give you every now and then. but it was hard for him to do the same with the way you lightly rubbed tobio's shoulder, the way you laughed at his flustered state when you told everyone about how he tried to eat a volleyball. his jaw clenched and his grip on the glass of water tightened.

"miya-san, can you pass the soy sauce, please?"

despite your efforts to be polite, his face still held a stoic expression as he set down the bottle a little too hard. you thanked him, but everyone knew something was wrong.

"thank you."

after you finished an onigiri, you excused yourself outside to take a phone call, using the time to text atsumu to behave. hopefully you weren't blocked, right?

your train of thought was interrupted by the ding of your phone.

meet me at the milk tea place we used to go to after. we need to talk.

damn right you needed to talk.

you went back, enjoying the rest of the lunch with your new friends and your old one. hinata, bokuto, and hoshiumi were a dangerous, but fun mix, not that you were complaining. they were entertaining and you fed into the energy. you noticed that atsumu was a little warmer, talking with everyone else at the table like normal.

"it's nice to see atsumu talking again. he's been a little antisocial these past few weeks and no one knows why." hinata sighed while bokuto nodded in agreement.

"oh?"

atsumu was the one who ended it after all. but at least you weren't the only one hurting, right?

your thoughts took over you again as you imagined what could have been if you just said you loved him right away. if you just told him then and there and been honest. or if you didn't let him leave you in the rain, ran after him, reached for his wrist at the least. but it was too late anyways.

"(y/n)?" hoshiumi waved his hand over your face.

"what, hm?"

"you kind of blanked out for a minute, are you okay?"

"yeah, just a little tired that's all."

eventually, lunch had to end and you greeted the rest of the players goodbye before you left. tobio pulled you into a close hug while you wrapped your arms around him, bringing him closer and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"come to another game, okay? or else i'll tell ushiwaka what you said about him when you saw him on the tv."

"tobio, with all due respect, shut the fu-"

"kidding."

you gave him another kiss on the cheek before you parted ways.

the milk tea place wasn't far, atsumu should have been there by now considering that he actually has a car. and you were right, he was at the same corner that you two always sat at, your favorite drink set on the table. as you approached, your legs started to feel heavy, but you brought yourself to sit across from him anyways.

"so you move fast." you scoffed.

"what do you mean?"

"you have a thing for setters or something, (y/n)?"

"i have no idea what the fuck you're talking about."

he sighed, looking down at the drink in his hands. months of secret hook ups, small dates, and it only took you a few weeks to get over him. it was selfish, but he had hoped you would feel at least a bit of pain. maybe if he knew you cried, even gotten a little frustrated, it would be a sign that he meant something to you.

"tobio is my best friend. he has been since we were in diapers. why would you even care?"

"because," atsumu sighed in frustrated, "because it's supposed to be me making you laugh like that, kissing yer cheek and shit."

"if i recall correctly, you rejected me after the game."

"because i was fucking frustrated at you! i don't know, maybe it was a little fucked up, but i fucking loved you and you didn't say it back!"

"miya-san, you know why it takes a lot for me."

ah, yes. he remembers the first time you opened up, your head laying on his bare chest, hands stroking your hair, small circles being rubbed on his arm. he remembered how warm your body was, the tears on his chest. he remembered it all. he remembered your apologies, your rambles about your past, everything you were insecure about.

miya atsumu had the memory of an elephant, but he struggles to respond when confronted with overwhelming emotion.

"so we're not on first name basis anymore?"

"that's all you have to say?"

you felt the lump in your throat, the tears welling up in your eyes. but you didn't want to let this asshole see you cry, so instead you look at your feet, attempting to compose yourself.

"wait, i'm sorry-"

"i'm leaving."

and so you stood up and made your way towards the door, but not without atsumu's protests. you were a few steps out when you felt him grab your wrist. you might as well listen to everything he has to say. maybe you'd get closure or something. after all, he was the first person you opened up to after everything that happened with your ex. you thought he would be different, but he made it clear that you weren't worth his time anymore. why were you still listening to him again?

"i love you and you don't have to say it back but hear me out," he took another breath before continuing, "i know it was fucked up of me to just not say it back after it took you a day, but i think it was just because i was hurt and i didn't know what i was saying. i'm sorry."

"miya-san, i don't know if i can believe anything you say after that."

"and i don't blame you, it was kind of my fault, i just wanted you to say it right away even if you didn't come to terms with your feelings. i was selfish and i don't want to hurt you again."

tsumu looked tired, a little out of breath, a little beat. did you do that? as much as you loved him, it hurt to see him like this. it hurt even more to know it was partially your fault. you hoped it was from the game he had just played an hour or two ago, but you knew better.

"what do you want me to do with that?"

"i want to start over. i don't care how long it takes for you to love me again. just give me another chance, i don't mind the wait anymore."

his hand was on your cheek now, you could feel his breath on your face. and just this once, you didn't think it would hurt to give in. tsumu was never good with his words, but maybe this time was an exception.

and you answer him with a chaste kiss on his warm lips and he brings you closer, cupping your face in his big hands. before you know it, you're in his car feeling giddy, a big smile plastered on your faces.

the familiarity of his apartment overcame your senses. the smell of the tropical candles he liked, the messes of blankets on his couch that you never minded but ended up folding anyways, the taste of his skin. it was all familiar.

and you loved it.

he carried you to his room bridal style, gently laying you down on his bed before taking off his shirt. he helped you out of your clothes until you were left in your underwear as he left open mouthed kisses all over you chest.

"i missed you."

"i can tell." you responded, pointing at his obvious boner in his underwear.

"shut up."

you let out a giggle until he rubbed at your clothed clit, making your breath hitch. he pulled down your underwear agonizingly slow and nipped at the sweet spot on your neck. his touch was familiar. he was warm, like home, and you felt safe.

"i'm sorry for letting you go." he gave an apologetic kiss on your lips before slowly inserting his fingers into you.

you let out an embarrassingly loud moan at the feeling of his fingers nudging the spongy spot in you that he was able to find every time. his tongue licked up to your clit, his fingers thrusting into you at a slow pace which he quickly sped up with the pace of his mouth on your nub. your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer into your heat.

atsumu obliged, replacing his fingers with his tongue. the wet muscle dipping into your slit, lapping up all of your slick. you were close, the heat building up in your lower belly, your walls convulsing. you were out of breath and when he let out a hum that vibrated against you, you were sent over the edge. you eyes rolled to the back of your head as he let you ride out your orgasm on his tongue.

he kissed back up your body before his lips landed on your once again. you wanted him closer and your wish was granted when he fully sheathed himself inside of you without warning.

"you're so good to me," he rambled in your ear, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he pounded into you, "you sound so pretty."

tears filled your eyes while you kept a strong grip on his bicep. you were overwhelmed, both by the sweet things he said and the way his cock stretched you out perfectly. even though it was only weeks, it still felt so long since you were together like this. you missed him.

your legs wrapped around him, barely giving him space to move, but he worked with it, still keeping up his relentless pace. your walls fluttered around him as your grip on him got tighter and you knuckles turned white. he was close, you can tell by the way his thrusts were becoming more and more sloppy and how his groans turned into whines.

"look at me."

and when you came, he made sure you were looking at his face which was red, sweaty, and carried a soft expression. he was pretty and you were sure that you didn't make a mistake coming back to his apartment.

when you both came down from your highs, your face was buried in the crook of his neck and his arm was wrapped around you. soft circles were rubbed on your back as you placed a few kisses where you could. he placed one on the top of your sweaty head.

"you don't have to say-"

"i love you."

he grinned back at you while you looked up at his glossy brown eyes. your hand wiped away some of the tears that fell from his eyes at your confession and a sense of euphoria passed through the both of you, the hurt slowly fading away with each passing moment.

#hq smut #haikyuu smut #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu smut #atsumu smut #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu angst #miya atsumu scenario #miya atsumu imagine #hq scenarios #hq imagine

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klance-fics · 3 years

Note

Hmm got any recs for wrong number/texting fics?? 👀

i loooove those yes i have a bunch actually

i usually only post completed fics its like my rule but "this is so sad paladins form voltron" was discontinued. however klance happened in the fic before it got discontinued and its actually my fav so im adding it anyway

you never stood a chance

lance to hunk ♡

>i’m gonna fukin die hunk oh mygod i sent

>keith a work out selfie that i wan supposed to fcukin send to you and you know what it said

>”BET YOU WANNA LICK THESE NIPS”

>HUNK I WILL NEVE BE ABLE TO FCE HIM AGAIN I WANT TO DI E

(Or, Keith is beautiful, Lance has a crush, and there's lots of shirtless selfies)

teamwork makes the meme work

Allura creates a groupchat for the newfound members of the Gender-Sexuality Alliance club at Voltron University. Everything goes downhill from there.

Keith

Why was I never considered

Shiro

You know why.

Keith

For fuck’s sake

You shank a guy once and suddenly you’re “violent” and have “anger issues”

Pidge

keith you;re gonna make me piss my pantsnhdjkljdhjh

build a paper plane (to float to you)

“Would it make you feel better if I introduced myself to Shiro’s neighbours?”

“It would make me feel better if you had told me that you were going to be alone this winter break.” Lance grumbles lowly.

“I’m telling you now.”

Lance rubs his hand over his face, tries not to sound frustrated. “Why are you telling me now?”

Keith falters, thinks over his words. Lance bets he doesn’t know why he’s telling him now either. “Because I thought you should know.” He finally settles on. Because you can’t do anything about it.

In which Lance travels across 1,681 kilometers, sees the sky and the water meet for the first time, and falls in more ways than one.

voltron is a meme

Group Message to: Lance and +9 972-888-2022

Lance: shut the fuck up

+9 972-888-2022: i haven’t even said anything yet!

+9 972-888-2022: rude

Lance: PIDGE CAN’T MAKE PHONES

Lance: THAT’S NOT POSSIBLE OKAY

Pidge: say that to my face

Lance: if you can make HUNK a PHONE then you can make ME a PROPER FACE LOTION

Pidge: gdi lance lotion isn’t the same as technology

Lance: i fucking hate u

Lance: you CAN’T tell me you can build a phone out of nothing and not even make me a lotion

Pidge: i don’t even know what goes IN lotion

Pidge: i haven’t moisturized a day in my life

Lance: you Take That Back

In which Team Voltron canonically gets a group chat, Lance hates change, memes are sacred, and Keith and Lance's crushes are obvious to everyone except them.

This is So Sad Paladins Form Voltron

Princess: What is this Mario Kart?

gos: it’s a video game where you race one another in little cars

Dunce Dunce Revolution: excuSE ME

gos: not again

Dunce Dunce Revolution: did you just call mario kart a /video game/

Dunce Dunce Revolution: a mere /video game/?

Pidgeon: blocked and reported

Kogayne: never speak to me or my husband ever again

Kogayne removed gos from the chat

OR: a post season-7 chat fic because I couldn't find any

FEATURING: pining, of the klance, romellura, and adashatt varieties; wholesome family bonding; the MFes as well as our alien friends, and an unholy amount of memes.

it's actually mostly memes.

ladies and gentlemen we are rocking in space

LANCE

do u like the taste of spam, van kieu

because thats what ull get

1 glorious terabyte of def-not-garrison-approved viewing matl

every hour on d hour

KEITH

And now you’re blackmailing me. Wonderful.

Look, I’ll tell you, alright?

Not because your threat scares me, but because I’d like to cut this conversation as short as humanly possible.

LANCE

glad ur being so cooperative ;) ;)

Lance gets a new flight simulation partner. Lance makes a bunch of mixtapes. Lance falls in love?

Galaxy Garrison + texting au. For the Klance Zine!

Instructions Not Included

Keith glanced back toward the front door of his apartment, half hoping the cat’s owner or someone would suddenly bang on the door and give him an explanation. But the door remained silent, and Keith sighed, turning back to the cat. She was now licking her paws, seemingly completely unconcerned with her new environment.

“Don’t suppose you could explain what’s going on.”

The cat looked up at him, her gold eyes studying his, then she dipped her head and coughed up a hairball at Keith’s feet.

Keith wrinkled his nose. “Guess not.”

—

Keith ends up with an unexpected guest over the holidays.

you walked in, and i couldn't look away

Lance has a staring problem. Keith hates it and confronts him about it. Lance falls for him, literally, and then... they become sort-of friends.

Funky Lesbian changed group name “Voltrons bitches” to “Voltron is just furry propaganda”

The paladins of Voltron are on their way home. PIdge installed a texting / messaging system into their lions and now they can communicate on the way home.

Pidge did not think this through and now Lance keeps messaging about his crush on Keith.

Inspired by this tumblr post : I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. A guy asked me what the Spanish word for tortilla was once and now I dream of kissing him under the moonlight

hello neighbor

[8:08 PM]: you’re at work at 8 at night? where do you work?

[8:08 PM]: why would i tell you that

and don’t say because we’re number neighbors

[8:09 PM]: UGHHH

i thought we were having a moment

[8:09 PM]: over what?? i know nothing about you

[8:09 PM]: well let’s change that shall we

the name’s lance

DID YOU REALLY JUST LEAVE ME ON READ

#klance #klance fic rec #vld lance #vld keith #lance mcclain #keith kogane #texting #texting au #messages au #humor #au: college/university #canon compliant

26 notes · View notes

idkthisisjustforfanfic · 4 years

Photo

U N P L A N N E D, part 1

There was one other time when you found yourself like this. Just once.

In a bathroom stall in your college dorm room, your roommate on the other side with bated breath. What’s it say? She had asked, her voice echoing off the beige tiles that spilled into the messy living room, littered with solo cups and stale tortilla chips.

This time you were alone. No roommate on the other side of the door, no beige tile. Instead, a clean, white bathroom nestled on the third floor of the Los Angeles Facebook office.

The white plastic stick in your hand, this time, showed a tiny plus sign. A light pink symbol of what was usually happiness. But alone in the bathroom at work didn’t feel like a happy place.

You stared down at it, wondering if the tears in your eyes were responsible for the blurring of the result. You shook it, wiped at your eyes, and checked again. Still positive.

So you capped it and tossed it into the top drawer of your desk a few minutes later, more than happy to pretend that it wasn’t a looming disaster. A life-changing, career-altering disaster.

When it burned a hole in your drawer, begging you to open it and pray that the plus sign had changed, you decided to text Lexi.

Y/N L/N (3:34pm): Broke down and took a test.

You put your phone face down, hoping that an impending text from your roommate wouldn’t create a higher heart rate than what was already pounding in your ears. You tried to take a few breaths.

This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t the way you pictured life and it certainly wasn’t the way you pictured your summer. When the phone buzzed next to your mouse, you grabbed it so quickly you almost dropped it to the floor.

Lexi MacMillan (3:35pm): And??

Y/N L/N (3:35pm): Positive.

You stared at the screen, watched as the three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again, and then vanished. You imagined Lexi sitting on set, maybe in her dressing room or maybe right beside her co-star, typing and erasing, typing and erasing.

You ignored the email that came through on your computer, likely a request from a team member to edit one of your last images, this marketing campaign is due at 5pm! This marketing campaign was also the furthest thing from your mind right now.

Your phone started buzzing in your hand, a picture of Lexi with big white sunglasses splashed itself across the screen. You answered it quickly, holding a hand up to your mouth to keep your voice low and your words private.

“Hi,” you said, heading back for the bathroom that was around the corner from your office.

“What the actual fuck, dude? Are you serious?”

“Yes--why would I lie about that? Do you think I’m that twisted?!”

She let out a noise of exasperation. “No, I just--I don’t know--I thought you were being paranoid or some shit! I didn’t think it was actually possible!”

“Me neither,” you said, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the cool metal. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright. People get false positives all the time, right?”

Her voice was suddenly more relaxed than it had been, like she realized how serious this was and how fucked you were.

“I think people get false negatives,” you replied, defeated.

“Okay, well, you can take another test tonight.”

“Okay.”

“And then if it’s still positive, you have to go to the doctor. That’s the first thing.”

“Right.”

“They’ll do another test there,” she informed you.

“Uh huh.”

You thought back to your most recent sexual encounter, half drunk and giggly, white linens and sneaking out when he was asleep on top a memory foam pillow. Lexi already made it home, she was high on the couch with a bag of pretzels when you sauntered in at 4am. You made pizza bagels and laughed until sunrise about the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in what felt like ages.

I don’t know how you made it that long, she said. You must have an extremely low sex drive.

Or you just have a high one, you laughed. You’re always horny.

You didn’t think about it again for weeks. Okay, that was a lie. The drinks were good and the sex had been even better. Lexi had dragged you along to the party even though you knew all the players. You had deadlines for days coming up and a Sunday night didn’t seem like a good time to end up drunk somewhere near Laurel Canyon. But you went anyway.

The first time you realized something might be off was when you were a day late. It never happened. You lived your life on schedule and your period followed the rules--it was no exception. It typically came in the morning, and by bedtime, you were only a bit concerned. You went to sleep with confidence that you’d wake up to it.

The second day came and went, too. Lexi put on her OBGYN hat and assured you that it was nothing to worry about. Women are late all the time, uteruses have a mind of their own, really.

Days three and four were busy at work. Five and six were spent finalizing ideas for a new commercial campaign for a product launch, dinner with Lexi and Glenne. It wasn’t until the seventh day, when the light purple app on your phone gave a gentle nudge. Be sure to log your period!

There was no way you’d miss it altogether. You’d been careful and you watched him toss the condom into a garbage bin in the bathroom through tired eyes. He fell asleep beside you while he traced a circle on your skin--you were sure you’d never hear from him.

So you slipped out in the early morning light and took an Uber home, knowing that while it might not mean anything, it was at least a story to tell your close friends and to keep tucked away in your mind.

“Okay--I have to go,” Lexi said suddenly. “Derek’s being a dumbass today and can’t get his fucking lines right, so, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay,” you said, voice small, blurry-eyed again. You let yourself slump down to the floor, at least thankful that this time, the tile wasn’t beige.

You did your best to make it through the rest of the day, playing Lexi’s words over and over in your head. People get false positives all the time! You weren’t so sure, but telling yourself that seemed to quell the nausea.

Traffic was heavy on the way home, sunglasses pushed up on your face and radio high enough to drown out your thoughts. You parked your car on the same leaf-littered street in Century City, walked the block to your apartment, and dropped your bag on the floor before heading for the bathroom.

Lexi keyed in right after you sat down, water on to induce the stream of urine that you had prayed for the whole way home.

“Hi,” she said, pushing her sunglasses off of her face and dropping her keys on the kitchen counter. She let out a small laugh at the sight of you: pants around your ankles, hair up in a scrunchie, pink plastic cap in your mouth as you held the second stick between your legs.

The afternoon sunshine danced through the window, a breeze from the open sliding door felt like sweet relief in your stuffy first floor apartment.

“Hi,” you breathed out, flushing and pulling up your pants before capping the test and putting it on the counter.

She took a few steps towards you, her eyes wider than usual. “How long does it take to show up?”

“I don’t know--a minute or two, maybe? The first one was quick.”

She came over and stood beside you, her eyes on the tiny window where the result would appear. She crossed her arms and leaned over, letting her shoulder bump into yours.

There was one line forming, like fog fading in the early morning, the other came into view as the two of you stood side by side. You let out a shaky breath--tears in your eyes again when she turned to see you.

“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not the end of the world.”

You didn’t say anything in response, but a few sobs escaped through your lips when she wrapped her arms around you. She smoothed your hair with her hand and eventually brought you back to the kitchen, pulling two beers out of the fridge and setting them on the counter as she rummaged through a drawer for a bottle opener.

“I can’t have that!” You said, pointing at it like it was poison, mascara smudged beneath your eyes.

“Oh fuck,” she said, a small laugh from her mouth pulled one from yours, too. “Damn--sorry, it just--felt like a good option.”

“It would be,” you said. “Typically.”

She was quiet for a second. “Is it his?”

You shrugged, staring at the shade of dark red polish on your nails. “Has to be, right?”

“You haven’t had sex with anyone else?”

She asked as if she didn’t know. You shook your head.

She sighed. “That, uh, that makes it a bigger deal.”

“I know--I don’t even--what am I supposed to do? Call him up and tell him? I don’t even have his number.”

“Maybe we should call Glenne.”

“No!” You said quickly, shaking your head with force. “Don’t bring her into it yet. She’ll just tell Jeff and I need to figure shit out first.”

Lexi bit her lip, torn between the two options. She’d known Glenne since they were kids, they grew up down the street from each other in Sherman Oaks and when they got drunk enough, they tried to remember the super secret handshake they’d made up in the 8th grade.

You’d met Glenne plenty of times in college, especially after Lexi became a more permanent fixture in your life. You’d met Lexi at resident assistant training the fall of your sophomore year, but you still had no clue how adults trusted her to be in charge of eighteen students each semester.

The party was at Glenne’s house--the one she shared with her boyfriend Jeff. You’d met him a handful of times, too, but you typically opted out of the dinner parties or cocktail hours that Lexi invited you to.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like her friends. They’d always been nice and welcoming, but being the one person not involved in the entertainment industry normally left you feeling like the odd man out.

What's the latest at Facebook? They’d ask, gathered around a table with wine glasses in hand.

You’d give them the update, tell them about whatever marketing campaign you’d been working on or whatever new feature you’d helped with, but the conversation always made it’s way back to music or acting or something in between.

Glenne worked for Apple Music in artist relations, her boyfriend for a prominent artist management firm. Lexi MacMillan, a self-proclaimed B-list actress in a new Netflix series, fit right into their world of Teslas and hedge fund investments.

She never liked to admit that she came from money, and she was more than humble about the uneven split in your rent or the fact that she often paid for groceries. Your salary at Facebook was good--more than a lot of your other friends who had graphic design and marketing degrees, but it was small in comparison to the type of money the rest of them were pulling in.

“Well she’s gonna be the easiest way to get in touch with him.”

“I know,” you waved a hand and took a seat at the island. “Just, not yet. I mean, don’t you think I’ll need proof? I can’t just show up on his doorstep and say: ‘hey, remember me? I’m your manager’s girlfriend’s friend’s friend and we had sex one time at your house in late April and now I’m pregnant?’”

She stifled a laugh, nodding as if it was a good idea, her tone completely serious. “I mean personally I would love to see you do that.”

“Well, I’m not,” you said firmly. “There must be rules for this type of shit. I don’t know the etiquette.”

“You mean the baby mamma etiquette?”

You shot her a look, narrowed eyes before you let your forehead rest on the counter, a groan from your lips. “My life is over, Lexi--this is seriously the worse thing that can happen.”

She brought the beer bottle up to her lips to take a swig. “Which is why we should call Glenne.”

“I have to go to the doctor first, okay? That way we don’t stir up any shit without really knowing if they’re right or not.” You motioned over your shoulder to the test you’d left behind on the bathroom counter. The other, from earlier, was still in the side pocket of your work bag.

Lexi nodded, brown eyes with a new shade of sympathy.

A woman bounced her baby on her knee, big blue eyes looked up at the two of you, nervous and caving inward in the waiting room chairs.

“Do they all stare like that?” Lexi leaned over and whispered, her gaze fixed on the tiny human beside you.

“I don’t know,” you said quickly, hoping she wouldn’t make any other remarks. She didn’t--quickly distracted by the nurse who called your name and greeted you both with a smile.

“Y/N?”

You stood, walked forward and ignored the nervousness in your stomach. Lexi was following behind, she’d been positive and upbeat in the car as if heading over to the gynecologist for what you’d both been referring to as a legit test was a typical Wednesday morning errand.

“Are you her partner?” The nurse smiled over at her when she pointed at a chair in the hallway for you to sit in. She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around your arm when Lexi pulled her head back.

“No, just her roommate.”

“Just my roommate,” you nodded, repeating her words as if that’d ease the tension in your muscles.

The nurse smiled, scribbled a few numbers on a post-it and before handing you a small, plastic cup. You disappeared into the bathroom and realized you’d never thought so much about pee in your entire life. When you were done, you walked back to the small room that the same nurse pointed you towards to find Lexi in the small visitor’s chair beside the paper-lined exam table.

She looked up quickly, a life-like plastic uterus was in her hands. “I maybe broke it.”

“Put it down,” you ordered, rolling your eyes at her childlike curiosity. “Let’s just get in and get out, okay?”

“Knock knock!” A voice from the doorway, Laura Weston, red hair and blue eyes. Her white coat covered a pink blouse, one that matched the color of blush on her cheeks. “Good to see you, Y/N--who’s this?”

Lexi extended her hand and smiled. “Lexi MacMillan, roommate and moral support, nice to meet you.”

“So I hear there’s a possibility of pregnancy?” Dr. Weston sat down on a rolling stool, picked up the chart on the counter and flipped through some pages. She closed it, waited a second, and offered a smile when you didn’t answer. “How are you doing?”

You nodded, licked at your lips, and then met her gaze. “Been better.”

You’d been seeing Dr. Weston for a while--you found her card in the health services building on campus during your Freshman year. Now, a whole seven years later, her smile was a calming presence in a moment of fear and uncertainty.

“Well, note says you’ve taken two tests, and they were both positive?”

You nodded again. “Just a drugstore brand, though. I don’t know how accurate they are.”

She tilted her head side to side, lifted her shoulders a bit when she rolled towards the counter. “They’re good enough--we’re running the urine sample now and that’ll give a good idea, too. Would you like to do a blood test to be sure?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Let’s do that.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “I’ll have Justine order that for the lab downstairs.” She produced a paper wheel diagram, the colors of the rainbow seemed to distinguish different parts of a typical menstrual cycle. “When was your last period?”

Lexi handed over your phone. “April, the middle of the month. I was due eight days ago.” You pulled up the app that now seemed like less of a friend and more of a source of shame. You were proud of how well you knew your cycle. You could typically tell when you were ovulating, knew enough about your PMS symptoms to know what to expect.

“And do you know when the possible date of conception was?”

“April 18th,” a tinge of red on your cheeks. “That’s the only possibility.”

So sure, maybe you weren’t the most sexually active human on the planet. Maybe you were slightly embarrassed that the first time you had sex in a good eleven months resulted in a possible pregnancy.

She scribbled something on a piece of paper, just like the nurse had. A knock on the door that Dr. Weston had shut behind her. The same nurse delivered another post-it note. Pink this time, not blue like before. Dr. Weston took it in her hands and then looked up at you, an unreadable look on her face when the nurse quietly left the room.

“That urine sample read positive, too.”

You didn’t mean to do it again, but another shaky breath left your mouth and Lexi was on her feet, a hand rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort. You wiped at your face, feeling guilty for the outburst of emotion.

Plenty of people wished and hoped and prayed for this moment. They dreamed about it and tried for years to have this moment. And you’d been stupid enough to stumble your way into it. Ahead of schedule, unprepared, and unplanned.

“I’ll order the bloodwork and you can do that on your way out--just to be sure. But take some time and when that result comes back we can talk about some options.”

You nodded--her words were a jumble of sounds that you couldn’t really comprehend. She offered a smile and left the two of you alone, Lexi still standing beside you.

“Let’s go do the bloodwork, okay? We can get ice cream when we’re finished!”

You nodded, wiping your cheeks again before hopping down from the table. You knew she’d keep her word.

The sunny California sky and a cone of soft-serve from McDonald’s made the afternoon somewhat better. You worked from home and went to bed exhausted, almost feeling detached from reality.

You talked with Lexi that night about having Glenne over for dinner. It’d been a few weeks since you’d seen her, drinks after work one night to celebrate Lexi’s show getting signed for a second season. So when she knocked on the door of your apartment the next evening, Lexi opened it with a big smile.

“Hi, hi,” she said, opening her arms in greeting. “Look at your beautiful face,” she pinched Glenne’s cheek between her thumb and forefinger.

Glenne laughed and pushed her hand away, leaning around Lexi’s shoulder to see you in the kitchen. “She’s high already?”

“No,” you laughed, “she just loves you.”

Glenne made her way past her friend, offering you a hug before she set her purse on the counter. She’d always been so poised--perfect, clear skin, hair that was always flawlessly colored and cut. She took a seat on one of the stools and put her chin in her hands, “please tell me you have margarita mix.”

Lexi laughed, rounding the kitchen counter and heading for the fridge. “Oh, do we!”

“Tacos are on the way,” you said, reaching for glasses from above the sink.

Mexican was always the go-to. You’d moved in with Lexi after college, and when Glenne ended up living only a short drive away, take-out became a regular reason for a get together.

“How’s life?” Glenne stared up at you. “I’ve been so busy which is why I had to cancel on that movie last week. But--what have you been up to?”

Her question was pointed at you. While you and Glenne were definitely friends, you trusted that she communicated with Lexi a lot more regularly about life updates.

You cleared your throat, ignored the awkward glance that Lexi shot in your direction when she reached for the tequila above the fridge. “Same old, you know. Just work, and stuff.”

Okay, so lying wasn’t a strong suit. You forced a smile and turned to Lexi, hoping she’d jump in with a hilarious story or funny remark. She was too busy lining up the cups, ready to distribute the liquor.

You looked back to Glenne. “Uh, I wanted to talk to you actually.”

That got Lexi to turn around. Her eyes were wide, lips parted as if she was thinking oh, you’re doing it right now?

“Remember in April, at that party--” You trailed off, referencing it as if it was ages ago.

“The album wrap?”

“Yeah, when I, you know, got laid for the first time in a while?”

She laughed, looking up at you with an amused smile. “Yeah?”

Glenne had been the most excited about your rendezvous that evening. When she’d first introduced you the two of you, she made your promise you wouldn’t get all weird around him. Apparently people did that. You laughed it off and tried to ignore him at the other end of the dinner table--an Italian restaurant in Studio City for her birthday last fall. He showed up twenty minutes late.

Lexi was still now, tequila on the counter, she wore nothing but a pair of shorts and a tube top in the afternoon heat. Glenne was impatient, the smile fading from her face when you broke eye contact with her for a second.

She tilted her head to the side. “What? You’re freaking me out.”

“I’m, uh, I’m actually pregnant.”

Quiet. Outside the windows, the setting sun illuminated a hazy Los Angeles dusk. Kids swam in a pool at the house next door, their laughter was muffled through the sliding door out to your patio. It felt strange to say it like that. Up until this morning, the word possibly had been sprinkled in, a safe and reassuring disclaimer.

“You’re joking,” she said, readjusting in her seat, the color drained from her tan skin.

You swallowed. “I’m not.”

She looked over to Lexi, then brought her gaze back to you. “And you’re saying it’s his?”

You rolled your eyes a little. “He’s literally the only person I’ve had sex with in the last year.” Lexi came over to the counter to stand beside you. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the smooth granite. Glenne just stared at you, still in disbelief.

“I took two home tests on Tuesday and went to the doctor yesterday.”

What you didn’t tell her is that you cried this morning when the email came through, new test results available from Dr. Weston’s office! Positive. Both the urine and the blood test. There was no denying it now--even if you wanted to.

“Holy fuck,” she said. “Holy fucking shit. This is not good, you guys.”

“Don’t, Glenne,” Lexi stood back up and shook her head, making a face at her friend. “She’s already freaked the fuck out and she won’t stop fucking crying, okay? She doesn’t need you to add to that.”

You tried to swallow the emotion now, heat to your cheeks when Glenne rolled her eyes.

“I’m not trying to add to it--I’m just--I have no clue how they’ll take that.”

You knew who she was referring to. His team. The people around him who’d made sure, for all this time, that something like this never happened.

She let out a sigh and looked up at you again. She stood from her seat and rounded the counter. “I’m sorry--I just--are you okay? How are you feeling?” She hugged you, it felt more obligatory than genuine. “You haven’t told him, have you? Does he know?! Jeff doesn’t know!”

“No--you two are the only people who know. I haven’t even told my mom.”

Glenne’s arms still encircled you, Lexi stepped over and hugged you both, a kitchen group hug. “This means more tequila for us, Glenney.”

“You’re fucked up,” she laughed in response, pulling away and looking at Lexi.

It was quiet for a second, that was Lexi’s cue to make them both a margarita. Glenne went to sit back down, immediately going into business mode when she clasped her hands on top of the counter.

She took a deep breath, you were unsure if that was for your benefit or her own. “So--okay. Where are you at with it all?”

“Are you asking if I’m, like, excited? I am not excited. This is not how my life is supposed to go.”

“Oh enough with the plan, will you?” Lexi rolled her eyes and poured the liquor into two matching glasses, nonchalance lacing her voice.

“Well forgive me for ideally wanting to find a partner before having a baby,” you shot back at her.

“That’s not what I mean,” she turned around. “It’s just--I dunno, dude, you’re always so hard on yourself if something doesn’t go according to the plan. I get it--this is a big one, but, stressing over your plan isn’t gonna help.”

Glenne nodded, almost reluctant to side with Lexi. “I’ve heard about the plan. You are obsessed with the plan.”

“I’m not obsessed with it,” you retorted. “I just have a good sense of how I want my life to go.”

Had. You changed the verb tense in your mind. You had a good sense, until now.

“Well, are you...gonna keep it?” Glenne’s question was innocent, her eyes searched your face as soon as the words left her mouth, she looked nervous, like she didn’t know if it was okay to ask.

A tired voice. “I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I haven’t even thought that far.”

She nodded. “You have to tell him. Have you even talked to him at all since then?”

“No,” you laughed. “It was only, like, a month ago.”

“He didn’t text or call?” she pulled her head back in surprise.

You shrugged. “No. I wasn’t expecting that. Why? Did he mention me?”

“It came up once or twice, yeah.”

“With who?”

“With me and Jeff--and Lexi.”

You turned to your roommate, narrowed eyes when she delivered the drinks. You knew she’d seem him once since then--a brunch one morning before Glenne left town for business.

“I told you about it--he just said you were nice and that we should all hang out,” she mimicked his accent, earning a laugh from Glenne.

“That wasn’t the first time you met him, though, right?” Glenne pulled the glass to her lips, took a sip and then made a face. “Jesus, strong enough?”

“I figured you might need it since your boyfriend is about to be hella upset.”

“Thank you, thanks for that,” you made a face at her. “But no--” you turned back to Glenne to answer her question. “I met him at your birthday party last year--in Studio City.”

“Right,” she nodded. The doorbell rang and Lexi went to greet the delivery person, or, more so, the tacos.

“But listen, you can’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t even know what I’m gonna do yet.”

She closed her eyes, made a face that told you it was going to be hard to keep her mouth shut. You leaned forward and lowered your voice, hoping to convey how serious this was. “Give me a few days to just--to talk to him first.”

She dropped your gaze, bit at her lip. You knew it was a big ask. Don’t tell your boyfriend something that is about to make his life a living hell.

“Please, Glenne.”

She let out a long sigh, one that sounded like it was slowly deflating her lungs, tired and unsure. “Fine,” she said. “But you’ve got to get in touch with him then--like, soon.”

You nodded, Lexi reappeared from the front door with a box in her hands and a smile on her face. “Okay--two for each of us and plenty of guac to go around.”

“So,” Glenne pursed her lips. “Need his phone number?”

It felt like one of those dreams you couldn’t wake up from. Like a cloud that looms over the city when everyone is dying for a sunny day.

You ignored the two phone calls from your mom you got in the span of three days--quick to text her some excuse about work or being busy with something at home. It felt too soon to tell her. You didn’t even know what he’d say or what he’d think or do or feel and the last thing you wanted to do was get a bunch of people involved in this before you even knew what to expect.

There were a few options, in terms of what his response might be. Glenne had continued to prep you that night in your kitchen, the more margaritas in her the more she accepted that she was now complicit. In moments it felt normal, laughing and talking and then watching a stupid youtube video of some kid falling off of skateboard.

But when you went to bed and then woke up, realizing that no amount of sleep would change the current predicament, you decided that maybe it was time to get in touch with him.

You had no clue when or how or where. Over text? On the phone? Lexi agreed that was too impersonal. Out to dinner? Too public. In person? Terrifying, and possibly not an option.

The truth was that you didn’t know him. He was someone who happened to be friends with your friend. Nothing more, nothing less. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you saw a billboard on the side of the 405 with his face on it.

So you didn’t know if he’d even want to see you--he might consider you an acquaintance or even a stranger and maybe he had no desire to ever speak to you again.

You went about work and life as if everything was normal. You showered and brushed your teeth and took solace in knowing that whatever form of life was inside you was so tiny that it could just as well be a blip on the radar.

A story in the future of hey, remember that time, when you were, and then it...

Plenty of people got pregnant and lost it, not even knowing until it was too late. You weren’t sure if you were wishing for that, in all honesty, but you knew that the alternative felt too overwhelming to think of right now.

But when you found yourself sitting outside in the courtyard on your lunch break, a search typed into the app store for pregnancy tracker, you figured that maybe it was time to bite the bullet. If you were starting to think in terms of what size fruit a baby is at any given stage, maybe it was time to loop him in.

You pulled up your text thread with Glenne--scrolled up past a meme and a recipe she’d sent you, until you found his name and number. You clicked it once, create new message.

You stared at the blank bubble. A thousand words and a thousand choices of what to say and how to say it. With a rush of adrenaline, you exited out. Clicked the number again, call now.

It rang. Three times. Then voicemail. A deep breath, you stood from the bench and started to pace.

Beep. “Hey, uh, this is Y/N--uh, Y/N L/N. Lexi MacMillan’s roommate. I hope you’ve been well since I saw you, and, yeah--maybe we could get dinner or something soon. My number is--the one I’m calling on, so, I know you’re probably really busy right now, that’s fine. Just, uh, yeah, would love to talk with you. Okay, bye.”

You pulled the phone away from your face and wanted to throw it into the bushes. Would love to talk with you? That didn’t exactly do it justice.

You let out a breath and clicked it to sleep, hoping that maybe it’d get lost in translation and you’d never have to talk to him or see him or think of him ever again.

Something told you that wasn’t very likely.

You went back inside and finished up the day of work, thankful for distraction from Aarav when he found you in the lounge.

“Did you see the request that Carson sent?” He dropped his laptop on the coffee table and headed for the vending machine nearby. “Not to sound like a dick, but, he’s out of touch with reality. I’m concerned about him at this point.”

“Why?” You laughed, “cause he doesn’t understand that we can’t deliver a whole project with only two hours to do it?”

“Exactly,” he leaned down to reach for the bag of popcorn it spit out. “Hopefully he just fucking leaves and goes to fucking Tinder--he could even go to the Instagram department, for all I care.”

“Levi hates him anyway--pretty sure he regrets hiring him.”

He came to sit next to you and then opened the bag, putting his feet up on the glass table in front of you. “Yeah, well, Levi’s out of here as soon as he gets something with Apple.”

You smirked over at your favorite coworker, knowing exactly what was coming out of his mouth next.

“And then you’ll get promoted. Much deserved, the queen of saving my ass.”

You brushed your hair off your shoulder playfully. “You’re welcome.”

He cleared his throat, opened up his laptop. “Levi’s great--but if you’re my boss, I’m working remotely two days a week instead of one.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, giving him the side eye when you looked back to your screen.

You fell into comfortable silence--grateful for the change of scenery from your office that was far enough away from Aarav and Simone, the two people who made work feel like fun. So you got back to the project, sent your designs to Carson when you finished, and prayed that he wouldn’t have a fit over the fact that you didn’t take his advice on using the Aileron font instead of Arimo.

He emailed you, eventually, but you didn’t have time to read it. As soon as it opened on your screen, your phone rang--a Los Angeles area code appeared on the screen and you felt your stomach drop to the floor. You looked over at Aarav. “Sorry--I, uh, I have to get this.”

You stepped away, leaving him on the sofa with your laptop, hand still deep in his bag of popcorn. You swiped across the screen, brought the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, uh, Y/N? It’s Harry.”

table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list

author’s note: Y’ALL. I’m back. As if starting a new story literally DAYS after I finish one isn’t crazy, here I am. Come talk to me and let me know your thoughts or your theories because THIS ONE is gonna be a wild ride.

tag list: @stepping-into-the-light @thurhomish @afterstylesmadeit @iconicharry @stylesfics-xx @harryspirate @mellamolayla @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfantasy @clorenafila

#unplanned #harry styles fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles story #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #1dff #harry styles writing #idkthisisjustforfanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles smut

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frogtanii · 3 years

Note

i think tumblr ate the ask i sent yesterday ➖👄➖ is this what pain feels like? (its 🔮 btw HAHAHAHA)

first of all, listen bestie, i know i tell you to get enough sleep, 8 hours and all that, AND I WAS GONNA GO TO BED I SWEAR but then i was brainstorming ideas and shi, and it was 2am where im at before i realized it, and i cackled evily when i saw that you posted the new pf chapter.

i n h a l e s

this is gonna be all over the place, this is your fair warning HAHAHAHAHA.

(#savethecamels2021😔👊)

osamu, that isnt a happy, committed relationship hun- YEAH SO WHAT IF Y/N HAS A HAREM, AT LEAST THEYRE HAPPY AND COMMITTED!

i was really feeling the chapter but then i started giggling at the 'meiko rubbing off her makeup on osamu's black shirt in an attempt to comfort him' lanzjsnsj HAHAHAHAHA.

but do i feel bad for him? yes, i do, but did he deserve that one? yes he did.

im not exactly sure why he'd blame y/n for the breach in his and atsumu's relationship? i mean, osamu is pretty nasty to y/n in front of the other members, and atsumu is a witness to how much of an asshole his brother can be towards her, so maybe his shitty attitude is the reason his brother doesnt like him?? didnt he ever consider that?? i dont recall y/n ever talking shit about the other members (except meiko, she deserves it) behind their back-

next point, FROGGY PUT SUNA AWAY IM NOT READY TO START DISLIKING HIM FOR THE MERE FACT THAT HE ASSOCIATES HIMSELF WITH MEIKO.

(i went, "oh, there's daichi" while reading aknxjsn)

also, i get that osamu got mad, but thats not really a reason to corner someone like that. i suppose, yes he regrets it, but that doesnt change the fact that y/n was actually, genuinely scared of him and what he could have done to hurt her in a place she could have, and should have considered a home. same goes for what the other guys did, and theyre making up for it.

"....i don’t know what’s happening and i don’t know what to tell you to make you leave me alone,” made me tear up a little, the girl seemed really scared. it sucks to think that people actually go through that in real life.

(its hella shitty to feel scared in a place youre supposed to feel safe in 🥺)

i love the character and the way you wrote and portrayed him, but good riddance, he should be ashamed. he didnt have a justifiable reason to do that to y/n.

also i want atsumu hugs 🥺 like the touch starved lunatic

NEXT POINT, that one anon is right though, and idk if i should be thanking your other anons or what, because they make me question everthing i know in pf- but WHAT IF SOMEONE HAD AN STD AND SHE ACTED AS A CARRIER AND PASSED IT ON TO EVERYONE?

#saveyachi2021, it hasnt been a full week yet has it? HAHAHAHAHAH

im gonna stop here and actually go to bed, and i dont have any headcanons at the moment, but i do have gossip about myself, lowkey a cry for help 😙✌️

i recently tried reaching out to this guy i had a crush on 2 years ago, and im classmates with him now. i have 2 friends who are friends with him and they were the ones who convinced me to chat him. obvi, its not a consistent chatting thing, its been about 2 days. BUT MY FRIENDS HAVE CONVINCED ME THAT HES LOWKEY HUSBAND MATERIAL OKAY?? I COULDNT RESIST, LIKE HE WANTS A ONE AND DONE RELATIONSHIP LASTING ALL THE WAY TO MARRIAGE OR WHATEVER attachment/commitment/abandonment issues are very confused, BUT THATS NOT THE POINT. do i want something to happen? yes, but im scared of my feelings 🤡

and they say hes nice, and hardworking, and that he and i would be a good couple but idk skndjsndjj 😭

AND BACK TO YOU

i hope you had enough sleep! 🤨📷

and a filling meal! its good for your body 🤨📷

and some water! stay hydrated! 🤨📷 HEALTH SHOULD ALSO BE YOUR PASSION!

remember that we love yoy froggy! and im glad you decided to take weekend breaks! rest is good for the soul, mind and body 😌

much baddie energy and good vibes! 💘

HEY BADDIE KEJEK because my brain is Not Working, i can barely respond to like 90% of what u sent but!!! i read it all n i LOVE U <3333 also ooo a mans :000 i hope that goes well for u!!!! n if it doesn’t i’ll beat him up for not taking u as a catch wink wonk ;))) sending the baddie vibes right back at u <333

#j’s asks #anons babey #℗ poker face #crystal ball anon

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i-need-entertainment · 3 years

Text

All’s not lost

Character: Iizuna x reader

*Little angsty BUT IT’S ULTIMATELY FLUFF!!*

Warning: Blood (from injury), mentions of injuries, Haikyu manga spoilers (Itatchiyama vs Inubushi), mentions of feeling insecure/not good enough ,Sakusa and Komori being bRaTs.

**In the beginning of this, Komori and Sakusa are first years and reader and Iizuna are second years. HENCE, Iizuna is the team setter, but not the team captain yet.**

You sighed, frustratedly running your fingers through your hair. “I am so sorry. I warned you they’d be a handful.” You apologized to the teams setter, Iizuna Tsukasa, as you turned around to glare at the culprits. Your younger brother, Sakusa Kiyoomi, and you guys’ cousin, Komori Motoya. “Kiyoomi, stop being a brat.” He huffed as he looked away from you, Komori just snickered beside him, “And Motoya, stop encouraging him!” Komori looked up in (feigned) shock. “Hey! I didn’t encourage him, He just did it.” You rolled your eyes, “Fine, stop enabling him.” He laughed as he ran off to go practice volleyball, Sakusa not far behind him. You shook your head as you turned back around to be face to face with the setter. “I really am sorry…You’d think with them being in high school they would be past needing 24/7 adult supervision, apparently not.” You and him just laughed, him waving off your apology. “It’s fine, really. But, uh, could you tell me where the first aid kit is kept…?” Tilting your head a bit in confusion you looked at him, and then blood came running down his face…

*Five minutes earlier…*

“It’s not that I’m doubting you, it’s just I don’t think you can do it.” Sakusa glared at his cousin. Just a little bit ago the two had been having an argument. Komori didn’t think Sakusa could spike left handed, Sakusa said he could…So anyways here they were. Komori was acting as setter and Sakusa, as spiker. After many, many minutes, Sakusa nailed one…except it was much more powerful than he had intended…and instead of the court being it’s final destination, Iizuna’s face took the brunt of the blow. Luckily you, Itatchiyama’s second year manager, had been heading into the gym to collect the rugrats you called family when you witnessed the teams setter go down.

*Now back to present time, in the club room*

“Here, go ahead and sit down. I’m gonna go grab the first aid kit.” He nodded as he took a seat in the chair you had pulled over for him. You came back over to him with the kit in hand. “Hold this to your nose, it’s still bleeding…” He nodded as he took the gauze, holding it to his still bleeding nose. You looked for an ice pack, once you found one you brought it to his now bruising cheek. He winced a little as you placed it on his face but got used to it. “You didn’t have to do this…” You smiled as you shook your head. “It’s fine…it was my idiots that did it anyway so it’s the least I can do.” You both kind of sat there in a sort of silence. You had known each other for over a year now, and you guys were friends, but you weren’t super close. Unbeknownst to the two of you, you had both developed little (okay maybe not *little*) crushes on each other. “…Does it hurt?” Iizuna snapped his gaze back to yours, which he now realized was quite close to his face. He short circuited for a second before remembering you had asked him a question. “U-um not too bad. Thank you…” You smiled as you gently cupped his face, tilting his head gently side to side to check for any other injuries you may have missed. You paused before letting go of him when you realized you were still cupping his face. “D-don’t worry about it…anytime.” You gave him one last smile before you stood up, him doing the same when he saw the blood had stopped gushing out of his nose.

That was second year. Fast forward to third year, it is now the time of the nationals. Today was the day of the quarterfinals, and Itatchiyama is playing against Inubushi East High. You guys had just called a time out, you gave some members their water bottles and towel before walking over to Iizuna. Handing him the bottle he nodded and said a quick ‘thank you’ before gulping the water down. They had just finished the first set; winning it of course, honestly the game was looking pretty good for Itatchiyama. You’ve known Iizuna for a good three years now, so you knew when something was on his mind. “Iizuna, you okay? You look like something’s on your mind..” He looked at you, a bit startled you had noticed. He sighed and brought his hand to rub the back of his neck; something you noticed he did when he was nervous. “I don’t know, I just feel a bit…nervous? I mean, sure we won the first set but, I don’t know something just feels off…” You nodded, “All you can really do is your best, just make sure you do what you’re supposed to and what happens will happen. But, that said I’m sure you’ll do great…you always do.” You gave him a sweet smile, and he gave you one back. The whistle blew, signaling the break was over and it was time to get back on the court. He turned around, “Iizuna!” He turned back towards you. You took a step forward and kissed his cheek, “Do your best…” He had a shocked look on his face before it transformed into a goofy smile, “If we win this, can I have a real one?” You laughed, “Just get on the court you dork!” Laughing he made his way to the court, lightly slapping a giggling Komori upside the head as he reclaimed his spot in the front row. They continued on with the game and it was now just under halfway through the second set; the score was 14:12 in Itatchiyama’s favor. All was going great until, “Stop the game! Iizuna went down!” Hearing his name you shot up, frantically looking towards the court you saw Iizuna on the ground holding his ankle. You and coach rushed towards the court, each of you grabbing one of his arms and leading him off to the sidelines where medics were waiting for him. After Iizuna was escorted to the infirmary and Itatchiyama had subbed in their back up setter, you returned to your place at the bench, a sick feeling sitting in your stomach. 27:29…Itatchiyama had lost. You started to pack up as the boys returned to the locker room. That brings us to now, the team was all sitting In the room they had been given in the stadium, minus one that is. After the game (which Iizuna had eventually returned to) you hadn’t been able to talk to Iizuna, and when you realized the captain was missing you exited the room and went looking for him. You turned a corner just to see him sitting on a bench, head in his hands as he tried to gather his thoughts. “…Iizuna…?” He looked up to see you, a concerned expression on your face as you looked at him. “I thought you were with the team?” You shook your head, making your way towards him. “I was, but, I haven’t seen you since the game ended…and having known you for as long as I have, I had a feeling you’d be somewhere alone blaming yourself for what happened.” He stayed silent. “Tsukasa…” He looked up at you again, You knelt down in front of him. “…It wasn’t your fault. Not as the setter, definitely not as the captain. You didn’t let your team down, and you definitely didn’t let me down. What happened was a terrible accident, they happen. But blaming yourself isn’t going to change what did happen…I’m proud of you Tsukasa…” Charged by the surge of emotions going through him he threw himself at you, wrapping you tightly in his arms as tears started going down both of your faces. “I just- I feel so helpless! I tried so hard, worked so hard. We all did! A-AND, I just. I don’t know Y/n. I don’t feel good enough- I’m not good enough for the team, for you-“ Done with hearing his self deprecation you slightly pulled away from the hug, holding his face and looking him in the eyes. “Don’t. Don’t say that. You are more than enough, for the team, for volleyball, I mean- you’re the number 1 setter and for good reason! And if anything you’re too good for me!” You lightly laughed as you wiped some tears from your eyes with your right hand, Iizuna laughing and leaning into your left hand, which remained on his cheek. “…fine, we’re BOTH losers…” You laughed at his comment, happy the normal Iizuna was making an appearance. “Shut up!” You smiled as you looked into his eyes, both of you feeling a little bit better. “It sucks that we lost…but there’s something else I’m more upset about not getting…” You raised your eyebrow in question (and suspicion) while he gave you an amused lop sided smile. He leaned in closer, putting his forehead against yours. You smiled, trying to hide the way your heart beat had immediately sped up, and hoping he didn’t notice how hot your face had gotten. “Oh…? What would that be?” He chuckled, “You know.” You attempted to stop the sea of emotions that started to flood your senses, but with the love of your life this close and being an absolute flirt?! HOW COULD YOU BE CALM?!!? He flicked his gaze down to your lips before his intense stare met yours. “…I know I didn’t win…but could you bend the rules just this once and let me kiss you?” You nodded and he wasted no time in tilting his head and connecting his lips to yours. The kiss was…sweet. It was soft, kind everything you had imagined it would be like to kiss the Tsukasa Iizuna. Parting he returned his forehead to yours, “I like you, Y/n…I really like you, and I get it if you don’t like me back-“ You shook your head with a smile, “I like you too Tsukasa…” He smiled, “Then is it safe to say you’d go out with me?” You laughed, “Yeah, I think so.” You both sat there for a while, enjoying basking in the presence of your new relationship, and because he couldn’t get up. “…Can I kiss you again?” You nodded and he once again placed his lips on yours, just as things were getting good you were both interrupted by a very distinct ‘Ew’ and ‘Get it captain!’ Disconnecting your lips from his your eyes widened as Iizuna groaned. Peering around the corner was the two gremlins themselves; Sakusa and Komori. An irk mark appeared on Iizuna’s face while you laughed. Sensing the oncoming danger Komori gave a little wave and a ‘Have fun~ But not too much fun~’ before he skipped away, a still grossed out Sakusa following behind him. “Sorry about them. But, you might as well get used to it, I have a feeling that will be happening a lot.” He sighed but ultimately chuckled, moving his head to rest on your shoulder. “So long as my dream girl is there with me, I don’t even care.” Today might not have been the best. They lost the match and Iizuna had sprained his ankle. But he couldn’t deny that today had been one of the best, because he had finally confessed his feelings to the girl he’d been crushing on since first year.

#iizuna x reader #iizuna tsukasa #tsukasa iizuna #Haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #hq oneshots #haikyuufanfiction #itatchiyama #y/n #sakusa kiyoomi #komori motoya #angst to fluff

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wingeddbaby · 4 years

Text

soulmate au

For the following characters : Bakugou Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, Amajiki Tamaki

warnings : language

“Do you think our soulmates might be in our class?” asked Ochaco, a smile plastered on her face.

You frowned. Hoping that your soulmate was in your school, least of all your class, was just a lost cause. There’s a low chance of meeting your soulmate. And even if you did, it could be possible that the two of you never figure it out. Or there could be an unrequited love.

You’re supposed to have a matching mark. It’s located on your wrist, and it disappears once - or in most cases, if - you fall in love with your soulmate.

But, right now, soulmates were the least of your worries as you walked with your friend all the way to UA; a place you thought you’d never get into.

Bakugou Katsuki -

He didn’t believe in the whole soulmate scenario. That’s why Bakugou kept his mark covered whenever he could. He didn’t want to meet his soulmate. Because he didn’t know what he would think if he did.

But when he saw you at the dorms, a small blue explosion on the inside of your bare wrist, he couldn’t process the newfound information.

“Hey, Bakugou! Are you still going to help me study tonight? We have that test tomorrow, and I really need your help!” You grabbed his arm, and Bakugou hated the fact that he became flustered from the familiar action. The two of you somehow became “friends”, even with your cheerful personality and his bad attitude.

“Whatever. Get your shit and hurry up.” Bakugou pulled away and left for his room.

You smiled and ran to your room to grab your notebook and some of the assignments you needed help with.

*-•°•-*

“Can I just sleep here? Aizawa will be pissed if he finds me wandering around the boys’ dorms at two in the morning.” You yawned and set your notebook aside.

“That’s why I told you to leave, hours ago!” he yelled, causing you to laugh. You somehow found humor in his overly-dramatic anger. “But fine, you can sleep on the bed-”

“You want me to sleep in your bed with you? I feel honored!” You smirked when he glared at you.

“I was going to say…” he tried to keep his cool this time. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Aww… that’s no fun. I promise I don’t bite!”

“Shut up and turn around while I change.”

“Why? Scared I’ll see your mark?”

He didn’t say anything.

You covered your eyes, flopping back onto his bed. “I still can’t believe I got you to stay up this late.” You peeked through your fingers, hoping to get a glimpse of his soulmate mark. And you were able to see it. When you did, you fell off the bed in shock.

“Shit! What the hell are you doing, (l/n)?!” he yelled, pulling on a sweatshirt.

“K-Katsuki! Why didn’t you tell me?!” he lifted you from the ground, ignoring your yelling.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” You saw the look of worry on his face that he tried to cover up with yelling.

You grabbed his sleeve and pulled it up so that you could see his mark. The blue explosion that was the exact same as yours. A mix of your water manipulation quirk and his ability to create explosions from his sweat.

“You’ve seen my mark multiple times! Why didn’t you tell me?!” You felt hurt, and you just wanted to forget about this situation, but it’s too late now. “Mine disappeared a few days ago…”

“I didn’t…”

“What, Katsuki?!”

“I didn’t want to see your reaction.” He sat down on the bed in defeat. What is up with him today?

You sat down next to him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I l-like you, (l/n) (y/n).”

Your heart started to race at his meaningful statement. “Aww… I like you too, Katsuki!” You smiled and wrapped your arms around him. This was one of the very rare moments in which Bakugou opened up to you. And you would accept it any day.

Kaminari Denki -

“Oh my god! (y/n), Kaminari has that same mark on his wrist! I saw it the other day!” Mina squealed, jumping up and down.

“You are very excited over this…” You watched as Mina smiled and grabbed her phone. “What are you doing, Mina…?”

“I’m texting Ochaco. She said that whoever finds your soulmate first will get a free meal from the other.”

You gave her a look of confusion. “But what if you never found my soulmate?”

“Then I’d live a very sad life, (y/n).”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone when you heard it go off. It was a message from Ochaco.

human floaty: U FOUND UR SOULMATE W/O ME???

human floaty: IM COMING TO UR ROOM RN

“Ochaco’s coming over,” you said quietly. Mina grabbed your phone from your hands. “HEY!”

“Why is there a picture of you and Kaminari as your wallpaper?” She smirked at you and scrolled through your contacts.

“What are you doing with my phone?”

“Calling him.”

“WHAT?! STOP!” You reached for your phone, a spark of electricity accidentally flying from your fingertip. That’s right. You have the same quirk as Kaminari, except you can shoot red electricity. It was caused by your mother’s fire quirk.

“I didn’t call him.” Mina tossed me the phone. “I texted him. He wouldn’t be able to hear me if I called since you keep screaming.”

A knock was heard at your door, and, expecting it to be Ochaco, you stood up to answer it. You did not expect to see your friend, crush, and soulmate - Kaminari Denki, standing at your door frame. “Denki? W-What are you-”

“Let me see your mark!” he yelled frantically, grabbing your arm.

He put his arm next to yours, comparing the two soulmate marks. A lightning bolt. Half yellow, half red.

Then it disappeared.

“You love me?!” you looked up at him in embarrassment once you saw the mark disappear from his wrist.

“You love me?!”

You both didn’t predict someone to shove Kaminari into you and cause your lips to clash together in an unexpected kiss.

Ochaco gave Mina a discreet thumbs up from her place behind Kaminari.

Todoroki Shouto -

You have two soulmate marks. So you figured it would be easier to find your soulmate with that kind of mark. You even thought of the possibility that you might have two soulmates. But that was impossible. One of them was a flame. The other was a red and blue flower. The second mark made sense, considering your quirk gives you the ability to cover the area in plants with your bare hands. It’s pretty useful in combat since you can just wrap vines around someone.

But one day, the marks just disappeared, meaning that your soulmate had fallen in love with you. That also means that you’ve met them before, which narrowed down the possibilities.

You didn’t even want a soulmate. You already heart set on someone else. So imagine your surprise when you heard Midoriya asking Todoroki about his two soulmate marks, and how they had disappeared a few weeks ago… When you realized you liked Todoroki…

You walked up to them during lunch and slammed your hands down on the table, trying to be intimidating. “Todoroki. Can I talk to you?” He nodded, waiting for you to say something. “Alone, please?”

Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka quickly left the table. “What did your soulmate marks look like?”

“One was a flame. The other was a flower. Why?”

Your eyes widened. “You’re my soulmate…”

Midoriya Izuku -

“I like you!”

“Huh?” You jumped slightly when Midoriya suddenly said this during lunch.

You didn’t figure him as the type of person to have feelings for another person at this time. He was too focused on his studies and on becoming a pro hero, but apparently, that wasn’t as true as you thought it to be.

“You… like me…?” You didn’t believe it. Honestly, who would want someone like you? You have a quirk that poisons people. You can’t be a hero with a quirk that only hurts people, yet you got into UA - under the hero course - anyway.

“Yes.” He nodded, still bowing his head to you so you couldn’t see his expression.

“Why?” you asked, picking at the food on your tray with a solemn look. He was probably dared to do it. You never thought that it was possible for someone to like you.

He grabbed your arm and showed you his wrist. “You like me too, dont you?” Both his arm and your’s were free of the soulmate mark that was a green skull.

“I do…” You smiled when he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Someone in this world - your soulmate - does like you. Love you.

Amajiki Tamaki -

You smiled at the small sun on your wrist. The other girls in your class were showing off their marks, and you had a sudden appreciation for your own.

“Your soulmate must be a cheerful person,” said Ochaco, smiling over at you.

You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Hey, aren’t you going to meet up with Nejire and her friend later?” Mina asked. When you nodded, she asked, “Can I come?”

“Sorry, no, I’m supposed to meet her at a café with Tamaki,” you said, grabbing your phone and your backpack. “I should actually be going right now.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?! We could’ve helped you prepare!”

*-•°•-*

“She isn’t coming, is she?” You sighed, leaning your head against the window of the café.

The boy in front of you shrugged, still trying to call Nejire from his phone.

“Maybe we should just go, Tamaki…” you whispered, turning off your phone and putting it in the front pocket of your backpack.

“We could s-stay.”

“I mean… If you want to.”

“I-If you don’t-”

“Tamaki, I want to stay.” You smiled and grabbed onto his hand.

“Okay…” A blush crept onto his face as you fiddled with his hand. “What are you doing…?”

You heard your phone ringing from your backpack, so you went to grab it. When you reached into the pocket, you noticed that the mark on your wrist was gone.

“U-Um… Tamaki? Do you mind if I see your soulmate mark?”

He held out his arm, expecting to see that small familiar sun. Imagine his surprise when he saw nothing.

“It was a sun… I don’t-” He was cut off by your lips being pressed against his. You felt him flinch at the sudden action, but that didn’t stop him from hesitantly putting his hands on your waist.

“Ahem!” You both pulled away, not meeting each other eyes as you scooted away from each other. “I see you two are getting along just fine…”

You glared at Nejire as she laughed at your embarrassment.

#boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #fanfic #katsuki bakugo x reader #kaminari x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x reader #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki #soulmate #au #alternate universe #mha x reader #character x reader #bnha x reader

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svt13roses · 4 years

Text

Put A Little Love On Me

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Words: 4.6k

Summary: He was always looking out for you, even since that night. It just took a particularly bad night at the club to realize it.

Pairing: S.Coups x Reader

T/w: mentions of alcohol, swearing

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A/n: It’s Seungcheol day!!! This was originally supposed to be finished up and posted back in July but life got in the way. I hope Seungcheol has a good birthday and knows how much we really appreciate how great of a leader he really is. He deserves all the love ;u;

The weekend scenes were starting to blend together into a mirage of too loud music, too many flashing lights, and too many bodies of people. It was a Friday, again. The weeks seem to fly by until Friday night, and in those few precious hours out, time seems to go by too fast while also being too slow. You can remember ordering some fancy drink to start the night, and you remember the stranger next to you saying the next round of drinks were on him. Somewhere in this mess, one round became two, and like a moment of realization you were out on the dance floor, lost in your own world. You didn’t care though, you knew all eyes were on you at this moment. This was your show, and you were the star every weekend.

You didn’t know who you were performing for, you could put on the air of self-confidence and say you were doing this for yourself because you knew how good you looked and you knew you could probably have anyone you wanted tonight to bring home. However, there was a seed of thought being planted in your mind every time you partied the Friday night away. Could this be a show to prove that you weren’t hurt by him anymore? That you moved on from the shambles of what you could barely call a relationship? In the heat of the moment, none of those thoughts crossed your mind.

You broke out of your trance when you felt something cold dribble down your left shoulder. You could feel the sticky-sugary liquid slowly travel down your arm and onto your fingertips, the sensation made your skin crawl in the worst way. You whipped your head around trying to find who could have spilled the drink, but there were too many bodies pressed against each other making it nearly impossible to see who did or did not have a drink. Taking a breath, you maneuvered through the sea of people trying to get to the bathroom. You somehow managed to get to your destination without too much trouble, though walking took more concentration than it really should have. You made your way over to the sinks and grabbed a paper towel. You looked at yourself in the mirror, and you could finally see the stain along your arm.

“What the hell kind of drink could this have been?” You mumbled to yourself, seeing how it left a long purple streak down your arm. You managed to wipe off the streak, but you could still feel the stain it left behind, the stickiness making itself known with every movement of your arm. “Maybe this is just a sign that I should go home.. fuck. Whoever that asshole was should have at least apologized. If this happens again I swear this heel is going straight-” Your rant was interrupted by a group of girls who definitely were not aware of where they were at the current moment. The blinding fluorescent lights, the loud bass from the music outside, and the shrill cry of the girls became too much. It felt like all your senses were being attacked yet you couldn’t feel anything. You willed yourself to take a step, with each step feeling like you were chained to bricks. You thought you heard one of the girls cry “oh my god is she ok?” before you were met with the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

Pain shot through your right ankle and your head began to spin. Taking in your surroundings, you could see the group of girls beginning to crowd around you. You became overwhelmed by the lights and the scent of overpowering perfume.

“Should we like, get the bartender?”

“Oh my god no! He’s a bartender, what good can a bartender do?”

“Well, I dunno! I haven’t had some chick drop to the floor before!”

“You can’t just call her some chick! She’s literally right in front of us!”

“Well you guys are the ones talking like she’s not in front of us. Maybe I should call a… what’s it called again? The truck! The thing with the lights!! Weeoo weeoo!”

“Oh my god you’re literally so dumb! It’s called an ambulance!”

“Yeah!! That!! Should we call for one of those?”

“Don’t call an ambulance, please. I’ll be ok.” You croaked out, beginning to stand. You knew that you probably should have just waited and asked for help. You knew that what you’re doing in the first place is irrational and probably stupid on your part. Coming out alone on the weekend was never a good idea, yet you did it anyway. Your friends had warned you to just stay home for once, a night in was never a bad idea. Of course, you didn’t listen. You craved the temporary escape from reality, where time was a fleeting illusion. This world, you were the star and he didn’t matter. Your past doesn’t matter; the petty arguments, the words that left incurable wounds in your heart, the actions that can’t be undone. It’s all in the past, and you need to accept the past. But instead of accepting, you only seemed to be running.

Little things reminded you of him everywhere you went. Little, insignificant details that really shouldn’t be a reminder but you couldn’t help seek them out. His favorite color on you was yellow, so you stopped wearing yellow. He always stopped by a coffee shop near your workplace in the mornings because he knew he would run into you there, you avoided that route entirely. He drank a certain kind of bottled water, you went out of your way to drink anything except that brand. He had told you, when things were still ok, that you would never be able to escape him. At the time, you had giggled thinking it was an endearing gesture, but now you couldn’t help but think that he had put a curse on you that day.

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It was a typical Friday night for Seungcheol: he had come home and relaxed for a while, began watching Netflix, and then the itching started. It wasn’t a physical itch, but an intuition of sorts that something was wrong, or something bad was going to happen eventually. He checked the time on his phone: 10:32. I wonder.. Ugh there really is no escaping you huh? Seungcheol chuckled to himself, making his way off the couch to get dressed up for the night ahead of him. Dressing up on a Friday night to head out and socialize wasn’t an unordinary occasion. However, no matter how nice he looked or how much he indulged in the flirtatious games of strangers, he always left just as he arrived. Not a hair out of place, not a button undone, no trace of alcohol to be found. He was a man of routine, and as such he always found himself at the same place every Friday. Seungcheol was very similar to you in that aspect, he did not like change. If things were fine the way they were, why fix it? You both were stubborn and were blindsighted to the small details around you. Small details, however, can build up. As Seungcheol put on the jacket that he wore that night, he was reminded of what truly happens when the small things get ignored for too long.

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A few months ago

Seungcheol knew he messed up, but he knew that you were in the wrong too. However, you were both too stubborn to admit it. Tonight was supposed to be a date night, a rare event as of late. Seungcheol had gotten the notification on his calendar, but absentmindedly disregarded it while helping Jihoon in his studio. You also had a reminder go off, but your boss had you stay late at work. You could have gotten home in a timely manner for dinner, but one of your friends at work had also stayed late. You both had gotten caught up in a conversation and before you knew it, you both made your way to a fast food place for dinner to catch up.

Seuncheol had tried to rush home as soon as he could, not caring if some work was left to be completed tomorrow. When he arrived, you were at the kitchen table eating the remnants of whatever food you hadn’t finished at the restaurant.

“What the hell is this y/n?” He tossed his jacket onto the chair across from you. “Tonight was supposed to be a night for us two, why are you eating now? If you got hungry and couldn’t have waited, you could’ve at least texted me.”

“Oh shit.. I completely forgot. I’m sorry Cheol, maybe next week?” You finished off your fries and put everything in the bag, making your way to the trash. Seungcheol grabbed your arm as you passed.

“No, we can’t do next week. Remember how busy I’m gonna be? And you even told me that you’re going on a business trip with your boss and a few coworkers to a conference next weekend. Did that suddenly change?” His voice began to rise. “Look I feel terrible for not being able to make it tonight but you’re acting like it’s no big deal. Don’t you care at all? Cause right now it seems like it’s some small thing that can be made up!” His grip on your arm began to tighten. The fast food bag dropped to the ground, long forgotten.

“Cheol your grip- please let go.”

“We have to talk now or we’re never going to talk! I haven’t heard from you in days and we fucking live together y/n!” You could feel tears brimming, but you couldn’t tell if it was his tone, his grip, or both.

“Ok well communication’s a two-way street, isn’t it?” You slapped his hand with your free hand, effectively freeing you from his hold. “And don’t grab onto me like I’m some inanimate object, that fucking hurt! You act like I’m the problem when it’s you! I tried to reach out but I was always met with silence or some stupid two-word answer. This date night that we both forgot about? It was my idea because I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks. And guess what? I expected this to happen! Sure I got dinner but can I be the one to blame? You’re the one leaving me behind and coming back when you feel like it! I’m done being… whatever this is!” You screamed, tears falling freely.

“Oh don’t act like I’m the bad guy here. You’re not so saintly either when it comes to talking. I try to talk to you when I’m free but you’re always out with your friends-”

“Because you’re not there for me!”

“Let me finish. You got to talk without interruptions so now it’s my turn.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “Don’t act like that’s so hard to do. Or is it? Cause it seems like I can never get a word in these days! You knew I’ve been busy, and you knew I would be with Jihoon today so obviously things were going to go late. But honestly, at this point it seems like you would rather have me at work so you have an excuse to go out with your friends. Which, by the way, you never even update me on where you are so for all I know you could be hurt and I wouldn’t know-”

“Of course you would know!”

“How do you know that?” he shouted. “Do your friends even know my number? Hell, I don’t even know your friends! For all I know, you could be seeing someone behind my back and I wouldn’t even know! Maybe this ‘business conference’ is just a cover-up for some fancy trip between you and your boss, huh?” You have never seen him so angry before, and the silence was the heaviest force you have ever felt. Wiping your tears, you bit the inside of your cheek and let out a long sigh.

“I don’t even know what to say Cheol…” You whispered. “I thought you knew me better but I guess time apart can be a bitch. I won’t even question where those thoughts came from.” You chuckled bitterly and began to walk away.

“Wait y/n no, that’s not what I meant-”

“Clearly, Seungcheol, it is or else you wouldn’t have said it. When people are angry they say how they really feel. Guess I know now that my boyfriend thinks I’m some cheating whore or something.” You could feel yourself beginning to cry again. It didn’t help when he began to follow you, calling your name. You both ended up in your shared bedroom, you sitting down on the bed. He laid down and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He secured you firmly into his hold, and you buried your face into his chest, letting out all the sobs that had been building up for months. Every insult you had wanted to call him came out in whimpers as your body shook from how hard you cried. You could feel Seungcheol begin to run his fingers through your hair, trying to calm you down in some way. The two of you laid in bed for what seemed like hours, the tension still thick. Finally, he croaked out something you couldn’t hear.

“What was that?” you mumbled into his chest.

“This isn’t us. This isn’t our relationship”

“I don’t think I understand, Cheol.” You looked up at him. He let out a deep breath and sat up, you following suit. He gently cupped your cheeks and began wiping away the stray tears with his thumbs.

“Y/n, we’re not who we used to be. We’re not some love-struck couple stuck in our honeymoon phase. We’re not happy.” He gently kissed your forehead. “I think we need to end this here y/n. I hate seeing you hurt, and knowing I’m the one who caused you that pain.”

“No, I understand. I feel the same way actually.” You moved his hands from your cheeks and held them. “I think we were both too scared to admit it. I mean, we were each other’s first loves, right? We didn’t want to lose something that precious. Besides, neither of us like change all that much.” Seungcheol smiled sadly. “But, I think you’re right. Let’s end this here before we hurt each other even more. I’m sorry for not being as open as I should have. I’ve felt unhappy for so long that I’ve tried to fill that void with my friends. Obviously you saw through that, but I should have known better. You can read me like an open book.” You hugged him tightly as if holding him close would make him stay any longer.

You both spent your final night together wrapped up in each other’s arms, pretending everything was okay for just those moments. And in those moments where everything was peaceful, with you and the rest of the world asleep, he felt a spark of love he hadn’t felt since he first fell in love with you.

“I guess this is goodbye isn’t it, sweetheart?”

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Seungcheol could feel the vibrations from the bass from outside the club. He probably shouldn’t be as familiar with this place as he is, but he justified his reasons for coming to himself. The breakup was just as hard for him as it was for you. However, he hadn’t expected you to be coping the same way as him: with copious amounts of alcohol. It was a complete coincidence that he saw you at this particular club a few weeks after he had moved out of the apartment. He had made sure to stay out of your way, not wanting to cause a possible scene. He couldn’t help but be curious as to who you were here with. When he had said he barely knew your friends, he wasn’t lying. As far as he could tell you were alone, lost in your own world on the dance floor. That first night, he stuck around a little longer than he planned, his eyes never leaving you.

He found himself in front of the same club the next week. He told himself that he had a really good time the previous week and wanted to come back, this time actually planning on getting drunk. However, his plans were ruined once he saw you at the bar. From where he was standing, he could see how uncomfortable you were. Seated next to you was a man who, in his opinion, was way too old to be in a club like this. He was sitting a little too close to his liking next to you, and you couldn’t seem to shake him off no matter how long you talked to him. Seungcheol took it upon himself to try and at least try and drive the man’s attention elsewhere. When the bartender came to take Seungcheol’s order, he asked the bartender to strike up a conversation with the older man. He may have also slid the bartender some extra tip money to make sure he actually got the man away from you. Ten minutes later, the bartender was still talking to the man and you had managed to slip away to the dance floor.

It became a habit for Seungcheol now, coming to the same club every Friday. Every time he would tell himself that it would be different, but each time he found himself looking out for you. If you seemed to have a little too much to drink that night, he would tip the bartender a little extra to make sure you got some water before going home for the night. If he noticed someone was making you uncomfortable at the bar, the bartender already knew to go and try to distract whoever was talking to you. Seuncheol was also there to see you walking out with whichever stranger you deemed fit to spend the night with. Is this really how they’re choosing to move on? He had asked himself on more than one occasion. He knew that you both had further discussed the end of the relationship, and had ended it on mutual terms. However, he couldn’t help but feel a little mad at himself every time he saw you leave with someone new. What did these people have that he didn’t? What weren’t you telling him while you two were still together?

As time moved on and the weeks passed by, he slowly felt himself becoming comfortable with this routine. If he knew you were safe, he was happy. Jihoon had called him a creep multiple times for his behavior, and Seungcheol would retort right away “just because we’re not in love doesn’t mean I don’t still love them.” With this new routine, Seuncheol could feel himself slowly moving on from the past. Sure, it still stung, but now he finds comfort in the fact that for at least one night he knows you’ll be okay. Tonight, however, felt different. When he felt like something bad was going to happen, nine times out of ten something bad almost did happen. There have been multiple times where he’s had to save you from going home with someone who definitely had malicious intentions. He was hoping that tonight would not be one of those nights as he kept his eyes on you on the dance floor. Before he could stop it, he watched as someone accidentally spilled their drink on your arm.

“What the hell is wrong with people?” He muttered, making his way down the bar closer to the bathrooms, making sure you arrived safely. As time passed, he grew more and more worried. No one had left the bathroom you entered since he saw a group of girls go inside. Had he had some liquid courage coursing through his veins, he would have just barged into the bathroom by himself. Before he was about to ask the bartender if there was something he could possibly do, god knows the bartender knows him by now, he saw the bathroom door swing open from the corner of his eye. He turned towards your direction, and he saw you shuffle across to the bar with a hand on your head and the gaggle of girls stumble behind you. He didn’t care at this point if you saw him, he couldn’t leave knowing something was wrong. Before you could catch the bartender’s attention, Cheol had called them over.

“Hey I know you’re probably tired of seeing my ass hanging around here every Friday night without even ordering anything, totally understandable. I need you to do a favor… again. That girl I’m always here for? I think something’s wrong. Give her a bag of ice for her head will you? And maybe call an ambulance if it seems bad enough?” He slid the bartender a few bills and made his way to the club’s entrance, texting Jihoon to come pick him up. Before exiting he took one last look towards the bar, and he saw you sitting on a stool with a paper towel and a bag of ice sitting gingerly on your head. With a sigh of relief, he made his way outside, the crisp air hitting his face.

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After a long and tiring battle of insisting that you did not, in fact, need an ambulance and that your head is fine, with a little help standing up and getting steady, you made your way out of the bathroom. Your head was pounding from the music, and you knew right away that you needed to sit down as your vision began to slightly blur. Somehow you ended up at a barstool safely, and waiting in front of you was a bag of ice and a paper towel.

“Excuse me, sir!” you called out, not knowing whether your hoarse voice would reach the bartender’s ears. Luckily enough, the bartender turned your direction and walked over.

“What can I do for you tonight, miss?”

“Uhh this bag of ice was sitting here and I’m not sure if this was from someone previously sitting here or not.” You explained, carefully fiddling with the bad. The ice hadn’t melted yet so it couldn’t have been here long. Before you could question it any further, you heard the bartender let out a chuckle.

“Ma’am that bag is definitely for you. Someone must be real worried about you, I’ll say that much.” You carefully put the bag of ice on top of where you hit your head. You flinched slightly at the sudden temperature difference between the cold ice cubes versus the hot and humid club.

“Someone knew what happened in the bathroom?”

“What the hell happened in the bathroom? You know what, I don’t wanna know. You seem to be talking fine so you don’t need an ambulance.”

“Ok wait how can you say I don’t need an ambulance but then not know what happened-”

“Look”, the bartender looked you in the eyes, “I don’t know what happened. All I know is the same dude has been coming by my bar for a few weeks now every Friday night. He doesn’t buy anything though. He does, however, always seem to have his eye out for you. Not in the creepy way like I’ve seen in the past though.” You blinked a few times before fully comprehending what the bartender just told you. Someone was looking out for you? You didn’t know anyone who would do such a thing, since your friends didn’t always join you on weekends. Maybe you caught someone’s eye the first night you came here? You sighed, resting your open hand against your cheek. The bartender looked at your confused face and smiled to himself. “He just left when you were stumbling out here. You might be able to catch him, I know I would. He’s a handsome fella; captivating eyes, nice cheeks, pretty lips. He’s not my type, but maybe he’s yours?” The bartender began wiping out a few glasses, walking away.

“He definitely does…” you trailed off, a burst of realization hitting you. If it’s who I think it is I’m going to shit myself. No, it’s just some pretty guy looking out for you, stop this wishful thinking. You set down the bag of ice and wrapped the paper towel around it. “Thank you so much for the ice, and for looking out for me!” You called you, practically running towards the entrance of the club.

The outside air hit you harder than you expected, helping you sober up even more after having the ice on your head. You desperately looked left and right, looking for any sign of who could have been the person helping you. Your eyes caught sight of a familiar car slowing down, as if it was coming to pick someone up. That looks like Jihoon’s car if I’m remembering correctly. Granted, I only rode in it a handful of times. You looked at where the car was headed, and that’s when you caught sight of a very familiar person.

“No.. it can’t be..” you whispered to yourself. “Aw fuck it, what have I got to lose?” You walked a few steps towards him. With a deep breath, you called out as best as your voice would allow. “Seungcheol!” You felt something warm against your cheeks, and after quickly wiping whatever it was away, you realized you were crying. You sniffled and called out one last time. “Seungcheol!”

He turned to look at you. You didn’t know what to expect, nothing had really changed about him since you last saw him except for his hair color. Your eyes met his, and you became just as mesmerized as you did in the past. You didn’t realize you were staring until you noticed him moving. Seungcheol slowly made his way over to you, shouting at you presumed whoever was driving the car that he would only take a minute. He stopped in front of you, and you looked up at him. Up close you could see the small details in his facial features that weren’t there previously. His eyes were still beautiful, but they weren’t as bright as you remembered. The lines under his eyes looked a little darker, and his lips were slightly chapped. You felt something warm being put around your shoulders. You looked down and it was his jacket that he was wearing previously.

“Cheol I-” You stuttered out as he gently grabbed your shoulders.

“Hey, stay safe will you? Don’t worry me too much and get home alright.” He gently patted your head and began walking back to the car. You were well aware at this point of the tears freely falling down your cheeks. You couldn’t help but let out a sob as you saw him give you one last smile and a small wave as he got into the car. As the car began to drive off, you began wondering how long he had been looking out for you and why he never chose to approach you. You felt your phone vibrate from your pocket, and you pulled it out. You chuckled as you saw who the message was from.

“I’ll open it some day, Cheol. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I will when I think we’re both ready” you mumbled to yourself, opening up your contacts to call your friend to come pick you up. Your friend picked up after two rings. “Hey, I know you told me not to but I went out again. Can you come get me? I.. I saw someone and I need to tell you about it.”

#seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt #scoups #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol x reader #svt au #svt imagines #svt scenarios #rose writes #put a little love on me

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