#{ their birthday is another thing that would probably change every time u asked. }

[1-800-scaryphone]

this reminds me tho. i had a funny thought abt making gingi's birthday the same as old man callum's...they wouldn't remember it but it's there in spirit i suppose lol

[stronghours]

Once is Luck, Twice is Talent

Previous

Previous

It took about a half hour of teasing, natural conversation and another fifteen minutes of gradual roughhousing to tow Jules away from Clay and Roscoe’s supervision on the sandy blankets. By the time they were up to their ankles in the lake, Martin was clear on two things – one, Jules had never roughhoused in his life; two, that he himself was horny enough to start chewing rocks.

Jules punched Martin, almost certainly by accident, square in the liver in response to some harmless two-handed shoving.

“Oh shit,” he said, when Martin automatically doubled over. No apology; attaboy.

“Listen,” Martin said, using this as an excuse to grab Jules’ shoulder. “Fighting is a social act. It’s contextual. Your response should mirror your opponent’s initial delivery.”

“Sure,” Jules said, unimpressed. “Losers who play fair would say that.”

“I play fair.”

“No, you don’t.” Jules fell back and lifted one foot behind his calf to wobble, flamingo-like in the surf. He wore a baggy T-shirt over shorts that were probably not swim trunks. He looked windblown and vulnerable as he gazed, distracted, by the unseen center of the lake. Martin had spent enough time around him by this point to know his explosions of energy could abruptly jackknife into insufferable, melancholy fits.

Jules’ glum line of sight changed course toward the beach. He was eyeing Roscoe and Co., of whom they were still within eyesight. Jackie had joined the group, wearing a resplendent, premature tan beneath his fur and, presumably, enough of something else to avoid getting arrested. Martin couldn’t see any evidence of it from this distance.

“Every time I see him,” Jules said, in a confiding tone, “I get like, this huge urge to rip out a handful of his chest hair.”

“He’d shove a big chain up your ass.”

“What’s he’s talking to Roscoe about?”

“Oh, the usual.” Roscoe’s ear was pointed toward Jackie, but his face appeared to be trained steadily on Martin. Piqued, Martin looked back and casually pressed his hand against the heated fabric between Jules’ shoulder blades. Then, a little ashamed, he looked away. “Recipes. Crochet.” He bumped Jules with his forearm. “Hey,” he asked, “would you?”

“Would I what?” He followed Martin’s nod. “Are you crazy? No!”

“Come on, Jackie’s a specimen. He just came along too late in the game.”

“It hasn’t given him any problems,” Jules noted. “I saw him have this guy on this steel inverted table once, yeah? So his feet were up and his head was down? And he was doing the whole chain-in-ass bit? But he had the other end wrapped around the guy’s neck, so when he shoved the chain in deeper the guy would get choked? And then –”

“And then?”

“Oh, you know. He weighted the guy’s balls.”

“Would have been really gauche if he’d forgotten.”

“But, but then –” Jules lurched through a giddy two-step for balance against a high wave and let himself rock into Martin’s waiting palm. “– He like, he rigged the weights to the chain so the guy would get choked even more.”

The ballet term, Martin recalled from Claudia’s extracurricular years, was épaulement. “Were you in the line of fire?”

“Nah, he was caged up.”

“Why wasn’t I invited to Jackie’s birthday party?”

“It was the guy on the table’s birthday,” Jules said. “It was before you got here.”

In the second it took for Martin to double-check that Roscoe was still keeping an eye on him, Jules, apropos to nothing, hauled back and smacked him hard over the nipple; He bolted, parallel of the shore, tripped up by the surf, but out of reach of Martin’s initial lunge. In the spirit of things, he called out a hapless and theatrical aaaa nooo! Then u-turned into the wet sand, unsuccessfully dodging outraged, promenading twinks who Martin avoided with more dexterity and with what, he hoped, came across as an apologetic and boyish grin.

Jules paused long enough to confirm he was being followed. He turned tail and bolted down the beach with such serious speed Martin was shocked into thinking he’d misread the entire situation. Then, as sometimes happened in pivotal moments, mutual understanding flowed from one to the other and Martin pursued.

These matters weren’t, he knew (had known for years) about playing fair, or about winning or losing, a life lesson Jules was too young to have learned. Right now, the point of the game was staying close enough to absorb the breakneck visual of the kid in motion, clipping blanket edges and darting through frisbee games and swerving, with becoming panic, from the odd illegal dog-off-leash. Martin hopscotched over the hard divots the balls and heels of Jules’ feet gauged out of the sand. An errant wave had soaked one side of his t-shirt and clung greyish to a sketched waist which Martin had, occasionally, recently (sneakily) grasped like an envelope in passing.

Both the pleasure and frustration of plotting the inevitable capture was interrupted by a foreboding creak in Martin’s bad knee – out of an abundance of caution more than pain, he slowed to a crawl and flopped down hard on the opposite thigh. In a minute, Jules flopped down beside him.

“Sorry,” he said, this time.

“Give me a sec, it’s fine.”

“I keep forgetting you’re like, sixty years old.”

“My PT said I’m going to need to swap this one out before I’m sixty.” Martin patted his knee. “Stay out of the trades, pal. Stick to the art.”

“You have, like, a union.” Jules settled lightly behind his back and curved himself, almost imperceptibly, where Martin’s ribs met his spine. He batted sand that didn’t exist from Martin’s bare shoulders, his knuckles gradually descending to the small of his back. Martin, who had been cooled off by the punching and the smacking and the running, sank deeper into the sand and lit up. He understood he would have to stay completely still so the kid could, in his own time, understand what his hands were doing and why they were doing it. “Does it hurt?” Jules asked.

“Nah, I’m tough. And brave.” Jules had a callous on his left forefinger; he deliberately rubbed it over Martin’s vertebrae. “You know,” he struggled, melting a little. “Manly.”

“My bar for manly is like, Jackie’s whole deal,” Jules said, shifting closer. “Just so you’re aware.”

“You want to take a spin on that table, I think.”

“I do not.” His denial lacked the vigor of his previous one, but Martin could believe this tone more. “It’s nice to watch a grown-up guy get tortured for once. All the stuff I was looking up when I was a teenager had girls in it.” With one hand he absently scratched Martin’s ribs and, with a kneading gesture, dug his knuckles into the skin. The other had crept around to lay flat on Martin’s stomach, the little finger searching out the limits of Martin’s waistband. “It was easier to find stuff of girls in latex, in like, the fashion of it. And what it had to, you know, bear up with. Physically. Because sometimes they were wearing it, but they’d also, you know. They were wearing the machines, too. That was interesting to me.”

The image of Jules’ brisk professional relationship with hard heterosexual S&M was one Martin had played with before, stymied only by the fact that Jules only rarely talked past it. He couldn’t imagine his pornographic education beginning any other way.

“So, what,” Martin encouraged, with deceptive lightness. “Insex? Or something like it?”

“Oh, def. I was thirteen. I was way too young.”

Martin had started sodomizing his friends at the mature age of twelve. He considered the wisdom of bringing Jules into this confidence, who now fully rested against Martin’s back with his cheek pressed sidelong of his shoulder. Besides the usual and boisterous arm-over-shoulder crap, Martin had otherwise failed to achieve such sustained and sincere physical closeness. He was saved from panic and premature judgements by some standard social calculation – if they were still safe enough within the gayer parameters of the beach – or somehow worse, if Roscoe was going to come along mother-henning.

“Hey,” Jules said, after some esoteric calculations of his own. “Did you ever see stuff on Rotten? Military executions? Fatal car accidents?”

“On what? Christ, no."

“Did you ever,” he continued, “did you like, catch Claudia on sites like that?”

“Listen –”

“Or was she like, a normal and healthy teenager and shit.”

“I wouldn’t –”

“Due to having such a great and emotionally present dad and all.”

It would have been an easier conversation with their standard two feet of distance in play. Martin turned his head and failed to connect eyes. “Listen,” he repeated, with hard-earned calm and patience. “Let’s not talk about my kid right now, alright?”

“Yeah?” Jules propped himself up on one knee and spoke mildly but firmly. “Is it too weird?”

He was capable of uncanny chameleonic imitations of maturity and self-control, in some conversations; of bigger, taller, stronger, older outlines that Martin, in a hunch, assumed possessed no faces. It was a dissonance of Jules that had long stopped disturbing him but made him feel sad and tender. He broke their closeness enough to match gazes.

“Is it weird for you?” Martin asked.

Unfortunately, Jules had never been afraid of eye contact. Martin had learned he could go a long time without blinking, though now he was forced to squint against blowing sand as he mulled things over.

“If I was a girl,” he concluded, “this would be fucked up and creepy.”

He stood up, burred from the knees-down in grit. Martin was still frequently caught off guard by the fact that he was tall.

“But I’m not,” Jules continued. “So I guess I’m not allowed to think about it like that.”

“If I’ve been making you uncomfortable this whole time, I’d want you to tell me.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Jules said. “Get up.”

No more doting concern about his knee, Martin noted, but his wariness subsided when Jules wrapped their hands together and began leading him along the beach. He wouldn’t have been up to another chase. Jules curved away from the bright, sunshine-y hilarity and far enough toward the cement bordering the park that they passed under the shadows of trees and the unwelcome presence of very small children, whom Jules stonily ignored as they toddled and tripped by the diametrically opposed wayside of preening men who weren’t Jules’ age or Martin’s age but at secret and acceptable times of life simply due to the reality that would never be further considered.

“I like you,” Martin said.

Nothing about Jules altered, neither his pace nor the pressure he used to hold Martin’s hand.

“I’ve liked you for months. But that doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have good feelings about it.”

Jules pulled up beside a set of brick restrooms. Unseasonably warm in mid-May, nothing was open proper despite the tropical bustle. An enterpriser had come along with a bolt-cutter and propped open the doors with cinderblocks.

“I like you too,” Jules said, and yanked Martin into the gents.

Martin, in less than an hour, had weathered about a dozen emotional and erotic dips and jerks. He was rendered suddenly naive and could truly admit he thought Jules was trying to find a place to talk with more privacy; A theory he thought proven when Jules did a cursory sweep of the undersides of the stalls.

“We could just go to –”

Jules lodged his fingertips into Martin’s bicep. “Show it to me,” he interrupted.

“Excuse me,” Martin apologized.

“Take it out. Take it out.” Jules punished his other bicep. His voice threaded upward in reedy demand. “Take it out and show it to me.”

In the half second it took for Martin to get his head together, snatch Jules to his side, and check for the one stall out of three that had a working lock (a chivalrous impulse he’d once been too young and too crude to enact) Jules boiled over with his standard response to any temporary frustration – seething fury. “Do I have to do fucking everything around here?” He bitched as Martin pushed him face first into the stall. “Why does nobody ever fucking listen to me? Is it so fucking hard –”

Martin spun him between the toilet, putting his own back to the stall door. “You’re really lucky you’re as cute as you are. Ever think about that?”

“No.” Jules stroked the divots he’d left on Martin’s arms before letting them roam over his chest. One thumb crooked across the lingering red mark above his nipple. “I didn’t actually mean to hit you hard.”

“It didn’t hurt,” Martin lied. He dipped his head for an impulsive kiss and got the mealy interior of Jules’ ear instead.

“No – just.” Jules rolled the back of his head against Martin’s corrective hand but kept his nails to himself this time. “I asked for the other thing –” he scolded, but let Martin lean in and scrub his face against his dark rumpled hair, something he’d wanted to do for ages. Despite the romping, Jules smelled extremely clean.

“What was that?”

Jules was a lithe, fighting little body. He held no room for leeway or interpretation and Martin, with glee, realized he was finally in the fortunate position to literally feel him get pissed off. “I said it tons! I’m not saying it again! You heard me!”

It occurred to Martin halfway through this lecture that maybe he was nervous about getting his cock out, a notion his hands would not allow. Jules staggered a little when Martin released him to yank his waistband down and haul himself into the open air. Jules yelling at him, he saw, had already done half the hard work of getting him towards fighting weight. An ambiguous sign, he figured.

“Oh,” Jules said. “Okay.” He melted, instantly docile, in the crook of Martin’s arm and smoothed his hot tongue over his jaw while his long, hard hands worked over Martin’s torso and stomach. “That’s nice.”

Martin tried not to arch into it too whorishly. “Let me kiss you,” he said – barely checked it down from a demand, a near miss.

Jules quieted in body; his thumb cruelly poised at the root of Martin’s dick. “Later,” he said.

“Pal…”

“I don’t want our first kiss to be in a toilet,” Jules explained, a little stricken. “I want it to be nice. Don’t try it here, please. I want to so bad, I won’t be able to stop you if you do – please don’t.”

Martin hadn’t been the only one dreaming; he was kind of touched. “You’re really sweet,” he said, feeling Jules up under his shirt with one hand, while the other gently disengaged Jules’ thumb so he could stroke himself. “What do you want with it?”

Jules’ eyes were huge and intent as he watched Martin at work. “Uh, wow,” he whispered, inanely.

“You like it?”

“You look really good.” Clear questions got clear answers. Martin was uncertain whether his brain was absorbing these important lessons as he got himself as hard as he could possibly stand without doing something profoundly stupid and cruel to the suddenly gentle little crush resting on his chest. “I like you so much, you’re so nice to me, you’re so nice to me, can I touch it?”

Martin held him with both arms as Jules granted his balls an obligatory grasp, a courtesy gesture before he moved along to other matters.

His actions, unlike his communication, hadn’t been affected by nerves or horniness – Jules explored him with near-sterile perfunctory skill that had Martin jerking and grunting. He imagined the kid lounging alone in front of his shitty laptop, taking in with slitted, businesslike meanness some bound, rubberized doll pumped and dripping around silicone rods stuffed in every hole, and when Jules’ warm palm slid accidentally over the head of his cock, he was exhilaratingly freed from every social nicety and moral doubt that kept him from indulging his suit – his promise to Roscoe, that Jules was young enough to be his son, that he’d said I won’t be able to stop you, that he was an alone and unprotected anonymous little cocksucker, a spontaneous animal slut who yanked his shirt up in the toilet stall to offer up the skin of his belly and still yipped with shock when Martin shoved him against the dispenser to fuck against his guts – all these incidentals twined into a single cord whose bite only enhanced the glamor of the trap.

Jules clawed open Martin’s bare back, chanting the stimulating but unfulfilled demands sluts always said to work themselves up into a frenzy – fuck me! I wanna suck you so bad! – interspersed with tender requests that Jules could, apparently, say in times like these.

“Be nice to me, be nice to me, be nice to me –”

Martin seized his ass and rammed his near-hairless stomach. He would have punched a new hole through it, if he could, a nasty companion for his cute little navel.

“Ple-eaaaaaase be nice to me, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good all the time –”

“I am fucking nice –” Martin bit out, with huge effort. “I’m a nice fucking man to you.”

Jules bounced energetically in his grip and uttered little ah! ah! ah!s in cooperative tandem, as if he really were being fucked, or imagining being fucked. “I wanna be good forever,” he moaned, then sighed and relaxed, a subtle cue Martin’s body recognized through the heat, and swiftly honored.

Martin grabbed his cock to more accurately pump his orgasm up and across Jules’ stomach – his enthusiasm, fueled by a few months of erotic repression, overshot the mark and he ended up nailing Jules’ chest and collarbone. He’d twisted Jules’ shirt up and away in a grip so tight his knuckles whitened, creating a slightly more violent image than he cared for the first afterglow, with Jules’ arms pressed and trapped against the stall, eyes clamped shut, the rest of him shivering. Martin pressed their heads together – he stroked his waist and hair, touched his face, checked over his front and found him compellingly flat in the groin.

“Pal,” he said. He rubbed them cheek to cheek. “Sweetheart.”

“Oh god,” Jules said. He opened one eye. “What did I say?”

“Nothing I didn’t want to hear.”

“Oh. Okay.” He laid his head down on Martin’s shoulder and sniffled. Reality and its exposure made Martin tug him closer – he could feel the dents the boxed edges of the toilet paper dispenser made low against Jules’ skin. “Do you still like me?”

He’d wised up to something unconsciously within the last five minutes and didn’t dare challenge Jules on why he’d ask such a question.

“I like you,” Martin said. “I like you so much.”

“Okay. That’s good. Okay.” But Jules stayed where he was and didn’t stop shaking until tepid streams of salty tears were well established down Martin’s raked shoulder.

They’d made a mess; One sink was wrapped in yellow caution tape. The second spat out lukewarm dribbles. The third gushed ice-cold torrents one had to attempt to catch in his cupped hands while the other pounded the press-tap and got his chest slapped with wet hands. Jules perked up at the chance to swat Martin around some more, who considered revising his standing theory that Jules was merely emotionally sadistic.

A harried father strolled through the entryway at an emergency trot, towing a kindergartener fast by the wrist – Jules and Martin scurried away snappish.

“Goddammit, I ripped you up.” Jules touched his back, which was beginning to burn a little.

“Oh, sure.” Martin threw his arm around Jules’ struggling shoulder. His body hummed like a transmission tower – he doubted he would ever worry about anything ever again. “Who cares?”

“They’re gonna notice –”

“I’ll put my shirt on.”

“– Jackie’ll probably smell it –”

“He probably can.” Jules grunted with dismay. “Pal, what would happen if you relaxed for more than two seconds at a time? Jackie’s the last person who could judge you.”

“It matters what Roscoe thinks of me,” Jules answered duly.

Roscoe had once been a sixteen-year-old twerp who’d been terrified of Martin. And now the hot little punk de jour under his arm was anxious about his opinion. Martin would have been happier for Roscoe’s turnaround of maturity and status, but, bound up as he was in his own worries, Martin doubted he had the slightest clue how Jules felt.

“We’re going to have to talk about this,” Martin said, when the walk turned solemn.

“I know.”

“Soon. I’m talking hours, not days.” He was determined not to give up any ground.

“I have to work tonight,” Jules said. He gazed blindly across the sand then seemed stricken with inspiration. “But I – Maybe. Hey. You want to come see a movie with me, tomorrow?”

“A what? Yeah.” He tried to recall the last time he’d been spontaneously asked on a date. He came up embarrassingly short. “Yes, absolutely. Of course.”

“We can talk after,” Jules said. He sounded very somber about it. Clay, Roscoe and Jackie were increasingly large smudges in the distance. Martin gave Jules a couple inches of personal space and the kid reached out and touched his ribs gently, with some finality. His hand fell away.

“You know,” Martin joked, trying to lighten the melancholy, “if you let me give you a piggyback ride, we could cover up my back that way.”

Clay’s crooked white umbrella, a hundred yards off, flashed ultra-visible. Jules sought it out and appeared briefly mesmerized by the sight. He looked backward at Martin with an expression he couldn’t even begin to interpret. “Just because I’m smaller than you” Jules said, “doesn’t mean I’m actually small.”

Martin’s knee radiated, a protesting throb. He waited in vain for the mutual understanding to flow. The valve had burst open once before that day, it could happen again. They stood there uselessly in the lack. But Jules didn’t wait on intangible things – he waited on Martin.

He jerked his head. “I’m not going back there alone.”

Martin grew up. “No,” he said. “You’re not.” And stepped forward.

[madame-fear]

HIII

HELLO, I love your blog, your stories make me smile. um um feel free to ignore but i wanted to ask gotham! jonathan and DK! Jonathan, cheering on his partner on his birthday POSTSCRIPT: Yesterday was my birthday XD, another thing, English is not my native language, SO I'M SORRY FOR THE SPELLING MISTAKES

— a/n : hello love !! Happy late Birthday darling!! 🥳❤ AHJDJDK no worries for English cause it's not my native tongue as well! hope u enjoy this ♡

♡ Gotham! Jonathan : ♡

• Our boy will literally immerse you with love. His arms would be tightly wrapped around your waist, and would kiss you happily all over your face.

• The second you wake up on your birthday, he will already be leaving you breathless as he tightly hugs you, and showers you in love; plus, gives you tons of jolly birthday wishes.

• Will literally bring breakfast to bed and will also show up with a bouquet of roses he had brought for you the day before and kept hidden so you wouldn't spoil one of his surprises!

• Probably will let the J Squad and/or the Legion know about your birthday so they can celebrate it with you, if you wish. Or simply, give you gifts... or even help him with gifting ideas. Honestly it's probably that he would call the J Squad + the Legion only so they can give him ideas for your birthday. 🥲

• Will literally take you ANYWHERE you wish. Out for a walk in the park, out for a coffee birthday date, to the shopping mall, etc. And also, will spoil you to no end by buying you whatever thing he sees fit for you, and thinks you'll like! No 'buts' allowed.

“babe, what do you think about this? Do you like it?” “yeah, it seems pretty ni–” “SAY NO MORE. I'll buy it for you!”

• After you come home from nearly being all day out exploring the city for your birthday, he will run a warm, bubbly bath while he sets everything up for a perfect birthday night.

• Jonathan will even prepare your favourite food for you! Which is unusual, since he prefers having you cooking – but oh well, it's your special day.

• ^ Also, he'd prepare your favourite dessert, and will prepare some comfy clothing on top of your bed so you can change into that. Plus, he will prepare some good movie nights for both of you!

• After dinner and shortly before dessert, he will take out every hidden gift he had for you! Each one has a special little note for you, and he will be clinging by your side with a glint of excitement to see how you'll react to it.

• Pretty much will have you spoiled all day long, and will treat you like an absolute ✨ Queen ✨

♡ DK! Jonathan : ♡

• Unlike Gotham! Crane, he's not as expressive or clingy with his love. But, of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't have his ways of showing his beloved that he loves you!

• Even if he's a busy man, he will have someone replace him on his work only to spend more time with you. Literally.

• The first thing you'll see, is a little note with a bunch of hearts surrounding it, greeting you a good morning and a joyful birthday, and that he's on the kitchen preparing breakfast for both of you.

• When you go downstairs to the kitchen, you'll find the whole house set up for your birthday; with balloons of your favourite colours, a bouquet of flowers, general birthday decorations, and all the gifts on top of the living table.

“happy birthday, my love. i hope all your wishes come true, and that you have a joyful birthday, sweet darling.”

• DK! Crane will make you open all the gifts he proudly chose for you all for himself, based on all the knowledge he has on your likings. And, even if he won't show it... he lives for your happiness and the way you praise him when he does/gives you something you absolutely ADORE.

• It may be books, dresses, jewellery... whatever you most desire, he got it! And you're satisfied! (and so he is at your overjoyed reaction).

• Our man will also make you use your best clothing, as he reserved a special spot on your favourite place as to take you out for your birthday, and spend the evening there, together.

• And after you go back home, he will proudly keep spoiling by making a hot chocolate for you, plus he would bring you a small birthday cake of your favourite flavour while he sings "Happy Birthday".

• CUDDLING NIGHT WITH HIM WHILE YOU SHARE CAKE AND HOT CHOCOLATES!!!

• Our Jonathan will make sure he gives you the most special day ever, pampered, and happy. ♡

[cuethemulti]

ik this is probably too much to ask for but can I please have a little story of Henry and Carrie White being besties ^^? I barely see any content of their connection character wise and that makes me sad -Lammy/Carrie

You are so right so let’s change that :)

Summary: AU where Carrie and Henry had known each other in their childhood but the beginning of their true friendship wouldn’t start until they meet again in unexpecting circumstances. In this story, Carrie ends up running away after the events of the prom. (As always I ended up writing more than I thought lol) Thank u the request and hope you like it <3

God’s Plan

Carrie wanted to go home.

The small girl stood outside of the church, wrinkling the fabric of her brown plaid dress between her small fingers. (Carrie was never allowed to wear anything red; it was the color of sin, her mother always told her.)

Mass was over, and Carrie listened to Mama chatting with another woman who she had just met outside the church. She was pretty with her blonde-styled hair and pearls that looked quite expensive. Although her mother was chatting politely to her now, back at home Carrie would later get a lesson about the sin of the day: vanity.

“We always attend mass at least four days of the week,” Mama was bragging to the woman. “ It's one of the few things I will miss from this town. Of course, God will follow us wherever we go.”

“Very true, Ms. White.” The woman nods with a polite grin, showing off her pearly white teeth. She reminded Carrie of one of the dolls that she wanted to get for her birthday, but her mother preferred to get her miniature angel figurines.

“My family and I attend church whenever we can as well.” The woman turns to someone hiding behind her. With her hands on his shoulders, the woman brings up a boy to join them. “This is my son, Henry. His sister must have gone somewhere with her friends. He is the shy one.”

Henry was just as neatly dressed as his mother, but not as chirpy. He says nothing, keeping his hands in front of him.

“Oh, but solitude is a good trait to have, Mrs. Creel,” Mama nods encouragingly. “Makes kids stay out of trouble so that they can spend more time learning about the Lord. Just like my daughter.”

The mother smiled a little and looked down at Henry. “Yes, that's what we are hoping for. Aren’t we?” The boy did not reply, maintaining eye contact on the ground.

The woman’s face faltered at Henry for a second before looking up at them again with her same bright expression and comments, “What a shame that you and your daughter are moving away so soon. Perhaps these two would have gotten more time to become friends.”

Carrie’s mother pursed her lips together before putting on a tight smile. Carrie knew that no matter which boy it was, Mama wanted them all to stir far away from Carrie. “I suppose so, but everything goes according to God’s plan, Mrs. Creel, and we must abide by it.” Mama holds her cross around her neck as she assures her. “If He wants something to occur, it will happen however we least expect it.”

After both mothers gave their final goodbyes. Henry leaves with his mother, never uttering a single word.

X

Carrie opens her eyes, meeting the blue sky above her. She is walking in the middle of an empty road. Carrie rubs her eyes until she feels the blood that is still smeared on her hand. She blinks rapidly, her senses coming back to her. Carrie’s feet sting from pain as her high heels step on the hard concrete. She has been walking without any sort of direction since last night, dozing off every couple of minutes, but only had one particular dream.

Carrie has no idea why she remembered the church boy now after all these years. Perhaps it is her mind wanting to escape the reality of her life, the part of Carrie wishing to be a little girl again like her mother always wanted her to be.

A tickle in her throat makes Carrie cough. Her drenched dress is making her feel colder. Shortly after Carrie sees a pile of trash bags piled on the side of the road. They must have fallen off someone’s truck. It was like, dare she say, a work of a miracle. Carrie stops to search through the bags until she finds an old blanket. She uses it to wipe the blood off her face and hair before wrapping it around her waist. She shivers as she continues to walk.

The road is still far ahead of her. Everything is quiet. The only thing Carrie can hear is her growling stomach with one demand.

Apple pie. Last time she had told Mama she didn’t want any because it flared up her pimples. But Carrie could really go for some right now.

Carrie continues walking, her eyes closing every few seconds. Her hunger and sleepiness were weighing her down, but she somehow still has the strength to keep going. She thought she would walk forever until a few minutes later, the gray clouds moved just enough for the sun's rays to peek down and brighten her path. Carrie stops in front of the familiar sign that reads “Welcome to Hawkins.”

Carrie’s heart jumps. This was far too much of a coincidence. She somehow made it back to her childhood town without even knowing, just when she had just dreamed it. Was this perhaps a literal sign from heaven?

Carrie continues walking down the road, wondering if Hawkins still looks the same as it used to before. However, she knew better than to go out into the main streets looking like this. So instead Carrie steps out of the road and goes towards a crowd of trees, leading her into the forest.

The sound of a crow croaking echoes down the path. Not being able to take the pain in her feet anymore, Carrie takes off her high heels, tossing them aside and walks barefoot on the grass. She needs to find somewhere to rest. Her legs felt like they were going to fall off.

A few feet away in the middle of the grass is a pile of firewood. Another miracle! She thinks. Carrie quickly goes over, kneeling next to it as she puts her blanket aside. The wood hasn’t been used yet. Carrie had never made a fire before. She rubs the pieces of wood together several times, but not a single spark appears. She continues getting more aggravated with every failed attempt, wishing that her powers could have included the fire element.

“Hey! What are you doing to our wood?”

Two men surround Carrie. She jumps to her feet, quickly grabbing onto the blanket to cover her bloody dress. Carrie’s heart hammers when she notices the shotgun that one of them carried.

This isn’t a miracle, it was a trap.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was yours.” Carrie’s voice quivers as she steps back.

As the men got closer, they scan her up and down with disgusted looks.

“Holy shit. What slaughterhouse did you come from?” One of them snickered.

“I'm warning you.” Her voice was quiet but losing the gentleness from before. “Leave me alone.”

“Calm down, girl.” The man holds the shotgun close to his side. “All we wanna know is how you got here.”

His friend whispers next to him, “Isn’t that the crazy bitch in the newspaper? The one who set a high school on fire?

Carrie keeps backing away and looks behind her. Seeing that there is no other way of escape, she takes a deep breath as she lets the blanket drop from her hand. Carrie swore she wouldn’t do this again, but she is growing tired of these men. They were making her stomach curl and her head buzz, just like how she felt at prom.

Carrie remembers that she also swore to herself that she would never let anyone humiliate her ever again.

Her hand was about to move when suddenly, one of the men yelled as he was lifted into the air, dropping his shotgun to the ground.

“W-what the hell?!” The other man backs away as he stares up in horror. His friend was frozen in the air with his arms stuck to his sides, struggling to scream. From the trees on their left, Carrie sees a young, blonde boy approach with his hand stretched in front of him. He sternly stares at the man in the air who gasps and wheezes, like he was being choked.

Carrie’s mind is still struggling to understand what was happening. It wasn’t until the other man got behind the boy, the gun now in his hands, his hands shaking as he pointed that Carrie finally felt the pressure on her body force her to act.

“No!”

With that, the gun‘s direction is pointed up at the sky, and with a bang, the man’s friend lands on the floor with the bullet through his chest.

The boy turns towards the remaining man. Before he could react, the man is thrown against the tree. When he attempts to run away, Carrie makes his neck simply snap, making him fall on his knees before sprawling onto the grass.

Carrie breathes heavily, still feeling adrenaline of her powers burning through her body.

The boy turned to her, looking a lot calmer than she was. “I assume you must be Carrie White?”

Carrie whips out her hand again as a warning. “Who are you?”

Henry blinks. “You really don’t remember me?”

Carrie thinks her suspicion was impossible, but she whispers, “Henry?”

The boy from her church, the one who she had just dreamed about, stood there a lot taller than before, but it was his same neatly kept blonde hair and the monotonous expression shadowing his blue eyes that confirmed it.

Henry nods. “I’m sure it was my mother who made the biggest impression on you that day. She tends to do that to everyone. Yours did as well, I’m sure. ” Henry talks like they were having a normal conversation that wasn’t happening next to two dead men.

Not letting her guard down, Carrie circles around him, her hand still up. “What are you doing here? And how did you . . .” her voice trails off as she struggles to sort out her jumbled-up brain. The only coherent thought that comes across is when Carrie notices blood running down Henry’s nose.

“You’re bleeding.”

For the first time, Henry smiles a little before wiping his nose. “I think I’m not the one whose bloody appearance is concerning.”

Carrie mumbles, “It’s not my blood.”

Giving a short nod, Henry looks down at her dress. “I figured. It must have been quite a party.”

Carrie narrows her eyes at him. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” She finally drops her arm and starts walking away from him, but Henry gets in front of her. “What do you want?” She barks.

“I heard about what happened. Our towns aren’t so far away from each other.” Henry explains, paying no mind to Carrie’s glare. “I wanted to help a friend.”

“Friends? We never even talked.”

Henry shrugs. “Whatever you want to call it. Either way, we both murdered these men, and I think that makes us something. Accomplices, at best.

“I didn't need your help.” Carrie huffs. She runs her hands through her hair, feeling the anxiety and anger still knotted in her chest. It wasn’t until she got overwhelmed that she sits under a tree. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she mutters, rubbing her head. “Everything is out of control.”

Henry stands next to her as he looks around the forest. “I would say this situation got under control a lot better than it would have.“

“No, you don’t get it,” Carrie digs her fingernails in the dirt. “I’ve done terrible things, Henry. Awful things.” The sobs that Carrie had buried are now swelling in her throat. “My mother was right. I-I’m the devil. So many people are gone, all because of my sins!” She buries her head into her hands. “All because I disobeyed-“

“Hey, stop.” Henry puts his hand on her shoulder. When she doesn’t listen, he kneels in front of her, grabbing her arms and forcing Carrie to look at him.

“Stop. Crying.” Henry’s voice is firm but gentle. “It’s not going to get us anywhere. Take a deep breath.”

Carrie closes her eyes and inhales deeply before exhaling a couple of times. After a minute, Carrie feels calm enough to acknowledge the reality of who this boy was.

“You’re like me. “

“Yes.” Henry lets go of her and sit down. “I’m guessing your powers developed as a child too.”

Carrie looks at the grass. “Not until later. It just happened one day in school and. . .” She brings her knees up to her chin, not being able to say anything more without feeling the burning shame of the day when she first got her period, humiliated in front of everyone.

“My mama said I was born from sin,” she adds quietly. “That is the reason why I am like this.”

“And do you believe that?” Henry stares at Carrie.

“I don’t know . . . I don’t know what to believe in anymore,” Carrie turns over her red hands as she looks at them. She thought she had all the answers when she first got her powers, but now Carrie is just as lost as before.

“My mother used to tell me that too.” Henry picks up a small spider that is crawling on the bark of the tree. “She was a hypocrite, calling herself a Christian, yet she kept hiding away from her own sins.” Henry settles the spider on the grass. “What a surprise it was for her,” he says with a dry smile, “for a child to destroy the lie she’s been living in.”

Carrie stares at the spider crawl away as she remembers how her mother has raised her. The way she made Carrie recite the several passages worth of prayers, hitting her every time she wanted to do something that she wanted for once, and locking her inside the closet for hours until Carrie was begging for forgiveness, and it was all done in the name of being good for God only for all of it to be destroyed in a high school dance.

Suddenly, an odd feeling starts to rise from Carrie’s chest. It was something that Carrie didn’t think she would ever do again until everything that has occurred clicked together.

Carrie bursts out laughing.

Henry actually looks startled as Carrie falls to the grass and cackles loudly, making herself be heard everywhere in the forest. The tree seems to shake from the vibration.

“What’s so funny?”

Carrie’s cheeks are bright red as she tries to catch her breath. “It’s just hilarious don’t you think?” she sputters as she gets up. “How hard our mothers tried to do everything to keep us down the “good” and “holy�� yet everything still went straight to hell!” Carrie’s fist hits the tree, her strength causing a large tree branch to almost fall over them, and she wheezes more laughter.

Henry watches as Carrie gets to the center of the forest, spreading her arms out dramatically. “Of course, none of it works. People like them are the devil. That’s why none of it mattered!” Breathing deeply, Carrie’s eyes lowered to the ground. “None of it mattered,” she states, quieter. “We were damned from the beginning.”

With that, Carrie slowly goes back to where Henry is. She sits down under the tree, turning away from him as she leans her head back against the tree. Carrie’s stomach aches from the intensity of her laughter. She becomes quiet again as she regains her composure, the familiar emotional numbness settling on her once more.

“You’re looking at it wrong.” Henry finally says. “This isn’t damnation, it’s redemption.” Carrie can hear him lean forward. “We both have a gift, and if we work together, we can be our own saviors. You’ve already proven it.

Carrie slightly snorts. “I don’t think there’s anything heroic about destroying my high school prom.”

“It’s a start.” She knew Henry was smiling. “We both can learn from each other. I can even learn to teach you more about how to keep your abilities more stable.”

Henry leans away when Carrie sits up and sighs through her nose. “How do I know if I can trust you?”

Henry shrugs. “You don’t. But your options are limited, and you don’t really have anything more left to lose.”

Carrie’s eyes meet Henry’s again, and she sees a childlike determination in him that Carrie finds comforting. She barely knew Henry, yet Carrie felt closer to him than anyone she’s been with. They both were the only people in the world who understood each other. Carrie needs that the most.

Henry gets up to his feet. “But we’ll have to get you cleaned up first.” He points across the forest. “There’s a lake close by here. I can bring you some clothes and from there we can find a place to stay. “

Henry offers his hand down at her. When she still hasn't moved, Henry looks away, his face falling slightly as it seems the answer was no.

Instead, Carrie says. “Only on one condition.” Henry looks at her again, slightly raising his eyebrow.

“Can we get some apple pie afterward? I’m starving.”

Henry smiles. “Sure.”

As a new sense of hope grows for her, Carrie grins and takes Henry’s hand.

Perhaps it was all part of God’s plan after all.

[sithisreadingcorner]

Hi Sithi, how are you ? I'm Sab :) 🦆 You did a reading few years ago which was pretty accurate (omg time flies 😭😭) so I'm here today to ask you if I may have one please. My dob is still 11/10/1995. I don't have a particular question however I'm seeking a guidance regarding my upcoming year if you don't mind. Thank you for it and I do wish you a nice day 👀👁️

Hello Sab and welcome back! Thank you im good, I hope the same for you as well Time really flies huh?! Im so glad that the reading was helpful back then, I do remember it. One of the first ones on the blog. You know what is funny... I get lawyers, especially those who are just about to finish studies/start their career, literally all the time. An almost disproportionate amount. Maybe it's my fate to help budding lawyers along the way 😂

Although you technically sent this for September, since your birthday is coming up soon I thought I would make this more detailed than usual as an early gift 🥰

queen of swords. deconsecration wheel of fortune. death (sowing) XIII. DEATH "Death is the card of becoming. It signifies an imminent and difficult transition – the conclusion of one phase of life and the beginning of another. Inevitably, something gets lost during the transformation, but something else will rise and take its place." IDIOT: "Permanently reduce your intelligence by 1d4+1. You can draw one additional card beyond your declared draws." [Practice the art of persuasion. Enjoy rigorous intellectual discourse.] RHETORIC

Based on the cards, what I think is that you are kinda at a point in life right now where you are more or less satisfied with how things are going, or at least you are complacent about it. Not everything is going the best way it could, but your place either feels comfortable, or you feel like it would be too much work to get them in order, so you just kinda let them be as they are. You are in a maintenance mode, basically. And this is generally speaking completely okay, you don't have to do literally the most every day of every month. But it would be really good for you right now to "tighten the ship" so to speak.

There will be some really big changes coming into your future, that I interpret as immensely positive, but they are also quite drastic and you can only really take advantage of them if you are prepared for them beforehand. I think several areas of your life could benefit from a more organized approach, but that is probably a lot to change at once and it's my understanding that the area where this would benefit you the most is at work (though I'm not completely sure, so if you feel like this resonates differently you are probably right). Let me say an example. I don't know if THIS WILL happen but I feel like it's at least a realistic example of the kind of thing that MAY happen. Your boss is considering promoting someone at work to an extremely advantageous position, and they are thinking between you and another person, trying to decide. You would be the preferred candidate, and you WOULD be great for this position in theory, but your boss would like you to demonstrate that you have the organizational skills for such a leadership position as well. They dont tell you that though directly, they just kinda keep an eye on you, and you are just kinda coasting by at work at this moment, just straight up bing chilling. And to be honest, if you got the position today, you wouldn't be prepared for it either. So the other person gets promoted, and you will probably never even know that you were considered. But if you got your shit together a little, even if it's not perfect, your boss could see that you are trying and improving, and would eventually choose you.

Now, mind, I still want you to have a healthy relationship with your job situation, and get enough rest, and so on. What you need to do, is work smarter, not harder. Try to get your things in order, and make them more efficient. Change your routine today, and you will have plenty of time to get used to it and grow from it. The only thing that there is to it is that you gotta sow those seeds today so that you can enjoy the harvest at a later time. I don't think I can say anything more specific than that, but I will say one thing. The changes, though they will be drastic, what they will NOT be, is sudden. I think that the signs are gonna be there well beforehand, even if subtle. So keep your eyes peeled, pay attention to details, and especially to those things that people hint at but don't say. The information you gain will be quite helpful to you later. 👀

september readings (7 of 8)

tips? 💗

[blackvail22]

i talk here a bunch each day because i have no one else to talk to.

its sad, honestly.

i couldnt go to my counseling appointment, so i wont be able to see her again for another 2 weeks

thats nearly a month since ive seen her

im not doing very well so this isnt good at all lmao

idk how im going to make it another 2 weeks but all i can do is try ...

i think i start work again next week. im afraid of what has changed... probably not a lot. all i know is we have a new manager, and ive heard he's nice

i have a postop appt on tuesday for my tonsillectomy. finally i will have what my disease means explained to meeee. i keep thinking about it, and its been bothering me. i probably wont know if i have another surgery until after my next ct scan (they have to space them out so i dont get exposed to too much radiation and i had one less than a month ago) and idk when that is

im so bored. i have to be the problem

i really think i am

"my friends wont reach out" but when i reach out its super dry and they varely engage. maybe im seeing it in the wrong perspective. maybe my vision is skewed, and im seeing it in the wrong light.

maybe its because theyre busy

maybe at work

going to work

hanging out with other friends

going to hang out with other friends

i want to have a good friend group so bad but i feel like i cant have one

i feel like my only friend was em even though she used me. oh, i dont know if i ever told u the reason why we arent friends anymore

so, i dont have the best memory of the order everything happened, but ill do my best to sort it out

after spending a bunch of time together, we started to fade away. i would ask her if she wanted to spend the night, she would hesitate for a good 30 minutes, talk to her mom, and then say "sure". sometimes she wouldnt wait until we ate dinner (but a good amount of times she did) until shed say "oh i forgot something at home" or "my stomach hurts" and id walk to her house with her (except the times when she'd tell me not to).

when i walked with her, she would always say "ill be right back" and then shed be gone for 10 minutes and her mom would come out and be like "hey... she doesnt feel well so she's going to say home". and each time i would walk home crying. at this point, she was already blowing me off, not talking to me, and overall being rude, but i still went back to her every time.

this rare occasion was in early september of 2017. we only hung out, and then she said she had someone else shes hanging w at her house. she had become friends with people that hated my sister as well as a girl that honestly no one knows. em started to become them... like literally she became a copy of them. the whole group of girls would tell her that my sister is a fat, ugly whore. they fed her all of this, and they would talk and call my sister names and generally talk shit about her

a few days after i heard abt this, i saw things from em that she was having a hard time. i was outside doing yard work, and she was walking by. i said "hey, i hope you feel better" and she yelled "fuck you" at me while, again, giving me the finger.

i dont know what i did, but that was the last time in years that we would talk to each other. we would be "friends" on the bus the few days she went to school sophomore year...

now, though? i dont exist to her. i saw her at my work TWICE this past year, once being on my recent birthday, and she pretended she didnt know me. i look the same as i did before... this most recent time, she was with her boyfriend, one of the friends from '17 and her mom. as i greeted them, everyone looked over except her... her mom even did a double take.

she claims she doesnt know why our friendship went to shit when we were toxic to each other our whole friendship. it was never healthy.

she seems to be happy though, at least happier than me. shes pregnant again. im not sure of the gender, but i think its going to be a boy. she's always wanted to be a mom, so i hope shes a good one.

[miss-bread]

Literacy Analysis :)

Literacy is so important to one’s life. It teaches people about their heritage which is such a beautiful thing. My culture is Surinamese. A lot of people have not heard of the small country located near the earth's equator.I honestly don’t blame them though. Paramaribo, Suriname is not a well known country. People always ask me what I am and when I tell them I'm Surinamese, they look at me like I'm crazy. The cool thing about being surinamese is that it’s a culture filled with a bunch of different cultures. There are surinamese people who are Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, Indian and more! When I was younger, my family and I went to stay with my aunt and uncle who live in Suriname, and when I got there, to my surprise, there were so many people with different cultures. Everyone had a different accent and skin color! I expected everyone to look similar but that's the beauty of Suriname. Everyone brings their culture into the surinamese culture. That’s one of my favorite things about being surinamese. It’s rich with different cultures. Another one of my favorite things about being surinamese is the food literacy. Surinamese culture takes ingredients from other cultures and mashes it all together to make different dishes, such as nasi goreng which is basically a surinamese spin on chinese fried rice

or curry chicken and roti which is the surinamese take on an indian dish.

My grandmother spoke to me last week and told me that she uses food to tell stories. Every time she makes me food, she would always tell me a story relating to the meal from when she was a child. I guess I could say that making food for others is her love language! I find it so cool that all these countries come together to form the country we call Suriname. Another personal favorite is the music. Traditional Surinamese music is called “Kaseko'' music, however, my mother told me that Surinamese people tend to listen to a lot of West Indian and Caribbean music. There’s one song that I honestly don’t even know the name of but it’s a birthday song and when it’s being played, family members link arms and dance back and forth with the birthday boy\girl in the middle. It has the same tune as the song “When the Saints Go Marching In.” Attire is also a quite beautiful thing about Surinamese culture. My cousin recently got married in september and as one of her outfit changes, she changed into a traditional surinamese dress called a “koto.” It’s typically worn with a head wrap.

It’s a very beautiful outfit. Language is probably my least favorite thing about my culture. Simply because I just can't understand it! My family typically speaks Dutch and if only they spoke Dutch around me when I was a baby, I probably could tell u some of the things they say on a daily basis. But in my parent’s defense, they said “We didn't really know how to speak Dutch very well at the time.” The only thing I can confidently tell you I know how to say is “I love you.” Which is “ik houd van je.” These are just some of the cool and beautiful things I get to experience in Surinamese culture. And as I'm writing this, my mom is playing Surinamese music in the kitchen to inspire me!

[cahmilo]

dumping another request here, but this time with camilo and its also fluffy fluff fluff

Camilo x Fem!Reader where they're aged up (however you like it) and reader is babysitting dolores' "kid" until dolores walks in with her actual kid and and camilo kisses the reader on the lips and runs away shapeshifting into his original self LMAO

(you decide if its established relationship, or friends to lovers thing as long as its fluffy i'll take it LMAO)

Doppelganger ㅡ camilo m.

pairing: aged up camilo madrigal x female reader

genre: fluffy fluff fluff

word count: 3120

tags: mutual pining, shapeshifter camilo, babysitter reader, post-canon encanto

summary: camilo madrigal isn't exactly the confident and cocky boy everyone knew about. sure, he's had his boastful and proud moments but when it comes to his liking for a particular girl in town, well.... let's just say he tries. this time though, he devices a plan to hog her attention for a day.

a/n: MOCHIE all ur reqs are amazing i swear <33 also i hope u dont mind i changed some of the ending cause i saw fanart w similar plot as this so i decided to make it different lol

Knock Knock Knock 

Camilo opened his eyes, disrupting himself from his dream as the knocking become louder. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes with a yawn. In contrary to the 'sunshine boy' everyone sees him to be, he was unfortunately not a morning person. It would take a few more knocks to fully wake the shapeshifter of the Madrigals, and this was the fourth time. 

Having little to no energy, he stood up and made his bed. There was no way he would be able to fall back asleep anytime soon, for the entire town is awake and chattering with their own respective chores. Camilo can faintly hear voices outside his room, probably from his family yelling for their chores every morning before breakfast. 

Footsteps trudging, he leaves his bed all while constantly yawning. He needs the daily arepas to fully awaken the boy, which is the only reason why he looked forward to morning, specifically for breakfast. 

Yawning once more, he contemplated going back to sleep. Yesterday's event of Mirabel's birthday had him completely knocked out, probably drank and danced too much for his liking. 

His half-lidded eyes refused to stay up. Again, he desperately needed some substance or food to bring him out of dreamland, something that would energize him, something that would make him feel-

"Good Morning, Y/N!" Camilo heard his father's voice from the outside balcony, footsteps getting faster like she was running somewhere.

His eyes immediately shot up as soon as he heard your name. 

Turns out, it was enough to fully wake him. 

Figuring that you were in the Casita early in the morning, Camilo then dashed all the way to the house's shared restroom, freshening himself up and making himself look presentable.

Oh shoot, I forgot the curling gel in my room! He muttered a curse as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, his hair was a frizzy mess and he needed to get that fixed ASAP. Immediately he rushed out to run to his room, but unluckily for him, he almost bumped into you who was not watching where you were going.

With a yelp, he halted from his tracks sighing as he didn't get to crash into you. Looking up, he froze at the close proximity. You were literally right there in front of him, giggling at his panicked state.

"Bad hair day?" You asked, holding back a laugh. Camilo silently cursed himself before regaining his composure as he stood up and playfully rolled his eyes at you. "Tell me about it." He scoffed.

You ruffled his hair, further making it worse while he swats your hands away and whines. "Stop! I was on my way to fix it!" You let out a hearty laugh and unknowingly making Camilo's heart do constant backflips from your voice. 

"If you want I can help you style your hai-" "Oh I know that mischievous grin, hermosa. You're definitely doing anything but styling it." Camilo interrupted you, raising his eyebrows. Yep, he sees through you. You can only give out a sigh and slumped your shoulders while pouting and he pinches your cheeks. 

"Okay, not that I don't mind but you're not usually here early in the morning" Camilo trailed off, leaning on the balcony rails while looking at you.  

You mimicked his actions, leaning on the rails while facing down to the ground floor, motioning to the family downstairs preparing for breakfast. "Senor Felix called me, he wants me to babysit Manuel this afternoon cause Dolores and the rest of the family are busy."

Oh. Camilo thought. Not, surprised, you were the town's second babysitter after Camilo. In times where he is extra busy, you were the one that took over. It was also probably what made you and Camilo closer. Oftentimes you would babysit children together and you both enjoyed it.

"I feel betrayed that she didn't ask me to babysit my nephew." Camilo dramatically exclaimed, putting a palm in his chest to further prove his nonexistent point. This only made you laugh at him again.

"Maybe I'm just better." You smirked. "I'm like that calm wife that tries to keep their baby away from trouble" 

"Oh, dropping the 'wife' word are we? Does that mean I would be the husband?" Camilo flirts, leaning more towards you who had a dead-panned look. 

Two can play at this game. You grinned. Playing along with his antics, you leaned closer as well, putting your hand on top of his which was resting on the balcony handles. "Well..." You whispered in a low voice. Camilo's breath hitched, not fully expecting you to flirt back. 

"- in your dreams, Madrigal" You exclaimed playfully, pulling away and booping his nose. Camilo scrunched his face and then pouted. "You're mean-"

"Breakfast in 10 minutes!" Abuela Alma's voice echoed through the house, abruptly interrupting you and Camilo's moment. 

"Well, you have 10 minutes to fix your hair, hermoso" You snapped back to reality, ruffling his hair to mess it up again making Camilo groan. You turned your heel as you turned away, strutting to leave before he calls you back.

"Not even a goodbye kiss for your husband?" You froze. So much for the flirting earlier... 

Turning back, you rolled your eyes and walked back closer to him and seeing his smug smile. Thinking hastily, you aimed to fluster him as you cup his cheeks and planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth, barely leaving enough space closer to his soft lips. Pulling away, you laughed out loud seeing his gaping face, oh you definitely flustered him. He was frozen like a statue. You pat his cheeks twice and snapped him back to reality. 

"8 minutes, Camilo." You turned around and left confidently, even flipping your hair as you walked out. Camilo however, lagged for a good minute before he ran back to his room while screaming internally. 

—

"Hello? Earth to Camilo!" A waving hand snapped the boy from his thoughts, jolting up and slightly shaking his head. Quickly realizing that he spaced out, he looked around only to find the entire family in the dining table staring at him weirdly while Mirabel was snapping her fingers in front of his face. 

"Are you okay, hijo?" Pepa asked worriedly, putting a hand on her son's head, patting it slightly with pursed lips. Camilo reassured her, "I'm fine, mami. I was just thinking"

"What were you thinking of?" "Uhh"

"It's not a what" Dolores suddenly squeaked. "It's a who, that he was thinking about." 

"NO!" Camilo exclaimed, hastily shaking his open palms to the rest of the family. "It was nothing, really"

"Was it Y/N?" 

"MIRABEL!" Camilo yelled even louder. Sighing in defeat, he bumped his head down to the table, making Mirabel let out a fit of laughter after exposing him. "I knew it!" 

Camilo grabbed the hems of the openings of his ruana, bringing it up to his face to cover his blushing cheeks. That didn't stop his family from teasing, though. Even early in the morning, the Madrigal were always giddy and loud. 

"Okay, okay that's enough!" Pepa said in between cackles after seeing her son sinking into the chair, almost out of sight from the dining table. "But speaking of Y/N, why don't you let Camilo tell her, amor?" Camilo looked up to see his mom motioning to his dad. "Let me tell what?" 

"Oh" Felix let out a cough, fixing his posture. "Change of plans, Y/N isn't babysitting Manuel cause Dolores left him with Mariano for the day. You should drop by and tell her instead. Maybe even make a move." He whispered the last part, only Camilo and Pepa heard it.

Like a meerkat, Camilo popped up from the chair, sitting straight and fixing his ruana before putting out a shy smile. "Okay, papa. I'll tell her" He lied.

Little did they all know, that he too, had a change of plans. 

Camilo smirked and continued his meal, while having his palm resting on his cheek nearer to the side of the lips were you just kissed. Sighing in relief that his family no longer had their attention on him, he daydreamed again, thinking of you.

—

"Dolores?" Your voice echoed through the walls of Casita as you opened the door, letting yourself in. Upon stepping into the entrance, Casita happily welcomed you by shaking its tiles, making you let out a laugh as you patted the walls. Figuring that the girl with enhanced hearing didn't even hear you, you figured that she was just in her magical soundproof room. 

So, you just let yourself in to the empty house. You were practically family at this point, Casita even trusted you enough. 

Humming a soft song, you opened Dolores' door, only to find it calm and tranquil. She wasn't there either, maybe she already left. You thought to yourself, walking towards the nursery to find Manuel. Putting slight knocks at the door startled the one inside, when you softly opened the door, you saw a small figure lying in the crib. 

"Hola, nuelito!" You hummed softly, approaching the 1-year old boy. He was awake, and rolling around the crib. How odd, you thought. You expected the little boy to be still and calm, like her mother. 

"Extra happy today, are we?" Digging your hands to the crib, you lifted the small boy, a tiny laugh emitting from its tiny mouth while you giggled at his cuteness. Another odd thing you noticed?

The boy ran straight to your arms and buried himself in your embrace.

If there was one thing you knew about little Manuel, was that he is an exact carbon copy of her mother. Like Dolores, he was calm and quiet. Not too touchy, not too clingy, and not even too giddy. All the more reason you wondered why he was so different today, and it clicked you.

"Look at you, spending too much time with your mama's hermano" You lightly booped the child's nose. "You're starting to be as loud and clingy as your Tio Milo." 

You ruffled the boy's hair as you set him down to Mirabel's bed. Watching over as to not make him fall off, you carefully sifted through the drawers at Manuel's side of the room, making a bottle of powdered milk formula for him to drink. Glancing occasionally at the little boy, you observed his mannerisms. You thought that he spent too much time with Camilo to the point where they somehow act alike. Manuel would sway side to side, sneeze at random times, and laugh every now and then. You found it adorable and immediately imagined what Camilo would look like spending time with his nephew, probably spoiling him a lot. Your heart fluttered, falling for the guy more. 

As you finished the baby bottle, you shook it before giving it to him. His tiny hands gripped your fingers and your heart melted at how cute the boy was. His eyes similar to Dolores' and his hair like Mariano's, oh Manuel got the good genes. 

You crawled on to Mirabel's bed and fiddled with the story books she made, reading one out loud out of boredom while Manuel finishes drinking. He eventually crawled next to you, looking at the colorful pictures that Mirabel drew. Your smile couldn't leave your face, he was the cutest kid you've ever seen. 

After a long day of watching over Manuel, it soon hit afternoon, almost dark. Cradling the boy in your arms, you hummed a song to make him sleep, but it wasn't working. Manuel kept crawling all and around, eventually yelling and blabbering random words as he kept throwing himself to you. It lowkey took you by surprise, since you thought the boy was not used to physical contact but you thought otherwise. Oftentimes, he would kiss you. In the forehead, cheeks, nose. Sometimes you thought that Manuel probably mistook you for his mother, but it was unlikely, Dolores and you looked too different. 

After carrying the boy in your arms and swaying side-to-side, he eventually dozed off to sleep. You sighed in happiness, finally you can get a break. Putting him in the crib and wrapping the blanket around him to keep the child still, you wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead as you slowly opened the door and went down to the kitchen. Dolores was about to come back any time soon, so you waited while munching on an arepa. 

You heard the door click and Casita's tiles shaking loudly. Finally.

"Hola, Dol"  You greeted her. If the afternoon wasn't odd enough, she was acting weird too. Having seen her purse her lips so hard as if she's hiding a laugh, you found it questionable but then shrugged it off. She greeted you back, grabbing a snack like you did.

"Okay, was it just me or did Manuel suddenly get weirdly clingy?" You asked, wiping your cheek still filled with sweat mixed with saliva from the sleeping kid. "I thought you raised him that he doesn't trust strangers that easily. Or did he just magically warm up to me?"

"Huh?" Dolores asked. "I don't understand."

"Manuel? Your quiet kid that oddly kept clinging onto me? I took care of him since lunch like your papi asked me to"

"Y/N," Dolores squeaked with a hint of laughter evident from her shaking shoulders. 

"What?"

"Manuel was with Mariano the entire afternoon." Dolores blurted out, still holding back a laugh. You raised your eyebrow, pointing upstairs. 

"But he was just upstairs? And he was sleeping-" You paused.

You quickly pieced everything together. Dolores giggling, 'Manuel' being too touchy to your liking, the fact that the real Manuel was in fact with Mariano the whole time, the fact that there was a doppelganger, and most especially the fact that there is a certain Madrigal kid that can shapeshift perfectly, 

"Oh god I just babysat Camilo"

—

Quickly, you ran upstairs to the nursery after hearing enough teasing from Dolores who heard everything the entire time. Footsteps getting heavier, you slammed the door open, only to reveal that the crib was now empty. 

"Camilo Madrigal" You muttered under your breath. 

Changing paths, you stormed off to his room, not even bothering to knock. Kicking it open, you were welcomed by a large dome of a yellow blanket. Walking towards it and lifting it off, you found the panicked shapeshifting Madrigal, hastily waving his arms and covering his face.

"I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN IT- AAAA" Camilo kept screaming as you chased him around the Casita. He knew it was one of the biggest pranks he's ever done, and you being the most gullible out of all his victims, he was both proud and terrified. 

Running after him around the hallways, you screamed too. "COME BACK HERE YOU B-" You got cut off-

-by Casita who's had enough. Lifting the entire floorboard into wave-like figures, Casita dragged you and Camilo back to his room and slammed the door close. Being in close proximity to him, you gripped on the collar of his top and glared at him in the eyes while he widened his, profusely sweating in his entire face. 

"What kind of sick joke are you playing, Madrigal?" You leaned in closer, squinting your eyes while you observed him being both scared and flustered. You were having fun teasing him at this point, you were just putting an act. 

"I- I- It was a joke!" He rambled, shaking eyes not leaving yours. "And, Dolores had nothing to do with it! I was supposed to tell you but I forgot!"

"Did you really?" You tested him. Letting go of your grip on him, he finally took the chance to look at everything else but you. 

The silence and lack of answer was enough for you to figure everything out. You knew that him being extra clingy wasn't a friendly gesture, and hell, going as far as to shapeshift into his nephew just to hog all your attention? You knew his pranking tendencies for fun, but this wasn't it. He wanted to see something else for this one. 

"You know..." You spoke once more, cutting off the tense atmosphere between you two. "If you wanted to spend an afternoon with me that badly, you could have just asked." 

Camilo finally looked at you, his gaze no longer terrified but nervous. He was blinking repeatedly, thinking of what else to say. 

"I- I couldn't" 

"Aw, come on. You knew me for how many years yet you couldn't even get the nerves to ask me out?" 

"Shut up" Camilo grumbled, gripping the edges of his ruana and fiddled with the material. You took notice, and decided to grab his hands and interlace it with yours, taking him by surprise.

"Just say, 'Y/N, the most perfect flower in this entire Encanto-"

"Yeah nice try plagiarizing Mariano's words" Camilo laughed, slightly flattered that your joke eased the tension for a bit. He was lucky, you knew him that well to help him become more comfortable and he loved that. 

"Okay fine, say 'Y/N, I wanna spend an afternoon with you, as me, Camilo Madrigal" 

"Too formal-" "Stop being too choosy! Do it yourself then, show me what you got"

"Okay" Camilo took a deep and long breath. And like his personality took a 180 degree turn, he suddenly looked flirty and cocky. The sudden switch in his behavior made you more attracted to him for some reason.

"Y/N, you were right, I should have asked when I want to spend an afternoon with you, so let me ask again properly"

"Go on,"

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you" Camilo blurted out, eyes staring intensely at yours. Your jaw dropped.

"Nah you're bluffing" You joked, trying out something risky but all the while worth it.

Camilo snickered. "Stop ruining the moment I swear to God-"

You suddenly cut him off by crashing your lips to his. 

Lowkey, you smiled through the kiss when you felt his lips move against yours. Your plan on catching him by surprise definitely worked. Camilo kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer, nearly bumping his torso to yours. You, in return tangled your hands in his curls, lightly raking them after hearing him groan through your lips. You smirked as you deepened the kiss, feeling the heat in your cheeks get even more intense the longer Camilo remains in your grasp. 

Pulling away only due to the lack of breath, both of you gaze at each other and for the first time in ever, not a hint of mischief was in either of your eyes.

"Sorry, what did you say about me ruining the moment?" You asked innocently, battling your eyelashes as he scoffs. 

"Oh, shut up" He mumbled, leaning in once more for a quick peck on your lips. You laughed, grabbing a handful of his hair to pull and kiss him once more. 

taglist: @thegirlwiththebangs, @mirabelleza, @carcat-02, @brushofease, @camilos-luna, @kitasgloves, @ducky-is-dead-inside, @elegantkidfansoul, @moon-cakiie, @ignoremepeople37, @its-mia88, @nerdish-simp, @foreverwriting

thumbnail made by the artists of purrfect tale

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.

______________________________________

You knew this was a horrible idea. 

It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job. 

Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside. 

You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in. 

So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless. 

“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief. 

“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself. 

“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically. 

You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-

“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit. 

His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was. 

“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot. 

“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening. 

“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.

“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred. 

“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.

“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit. 

“I can’t believe you,” you said. 

“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought. 

“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it. 

Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum. 

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?” 

“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. 

“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”

“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.

“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked. 

“What?”

“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.

“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you. 

“Hey, Nat!”

“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.

“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled. 

“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?” 

“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment. 

“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment. 

It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room. 

“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced. 

“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly. 

You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?

"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.

"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out. 

Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.

"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit." 

"James," you whispered. 

His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.  

You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had. 

“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.

Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt. 

Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.

“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front. 

He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you. 

Bucky fell in love. 

“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.

His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material. 

You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him. 

“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly. 

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly. 

He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly. 

Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right. 

He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon. 

Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening. 

“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”

“Fuck!”

“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.

His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.

“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal. 

“Did I do that?” your voice trembled. 

“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.

Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times. 

You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled. 

“Bucky,” you whined. 

You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky. 

“I got you, darling. I got you.” 

Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours. 

“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.

Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew. 

Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy. 

“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted. 

“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled. 

He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly. 

You like being choked by Bucky. 

“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips. 

“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again. 

“Such a fucking beauty you are.”

Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.

“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled. 

His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.

Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum. 

He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet. 

“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body. 

“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”

“You’re not.”

Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room. 

After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away. 

He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast. 

He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him. 

Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever. 

Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled. 

“I love you, too, darling.”

And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him. 

=======================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

@buckybarnes101-blog

@l-sofiamia-l  

@pluto-grrl-blog

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@povsmarvel0720  

@missroro

Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

@bucknastayyy38

[alycosworld]

HELLOOOOO<3 “💕” anon!!!o(≧v≦)o I’m really excited since my bday is coming up!!! [uk that alr LOL] anyways my request will be below as always!

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

purple-people

blue-subject

pink-genre

green-type of fan fic

orange-extra notes!

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

so i was wondering if u could do hc’s for a few characters? i actually dont know if u have a character limit so I’ll just request 3! if its too much u can actually remove some:) also if u want feel free to add on more characters if u like! so basically thoma,baal and childe [seperate] x NB!reader and its the readers bday!:D how would they celebrate for reader? also idk if u r comfy in doing female characters so if u would like u can just remove baal:) vv fluffy please<3

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

tysm for this<3 hope u dont mind writing for girls! I’m non-binary actually but i was born in a girls body LOL- also if u wanna make it GN so everyone can read it go ahead! drink water and get rest! only do this if u want!

Thoma, Baal, Kaeya, Beidou and Childe on the Reader's Birthday!

A/N: yes!! ofc I write for women and I have no character limit, it'll just take more time the more characters you want. for anyone who's curious or wants to request, I have a list of things that I won't write and women are not on that list! Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY 💕 (who is changing their emoji to 🧸 I believe just so everyone is aware) LOVE YOU SO MUCH TY FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!

I added on kaeya and beidou bc I love themmm and my siblings simp for them and I don't have much character diversity so far hehe. also I haven't done baal's story quest so I'm sorry if she's a little ooc.

Thoma:

my man is ready and raring to go on the days leading up to your birthday. He's planned something. It doesn't matter what he has to do, he's doing it.

he's already asked Ayaka if he could take a few days off to get things ready and she is so supportive she even helps him.

HE HAS CONTACTS

if you want something that's super rare and expensive and practically impossible to acquire, you best believe he's calling in all his favours and getting whatever the fuck you want.

he baked your cake with his own two hands and it is nothing short of perfection. he made you a card and he wrote you a beautiful heartfelt message and drew a lil picture of you (that's really just a stick figure but APPRECIATE THE EFFORT)

if you wanted to go out, he took you everywhere you wanted and treated you to a meal, making sure everyone you saw remembered to wish you a happy birthday.

if you felt like staying inside, he threw you your own little party for two and did whatever your wanted - sleeping, dancing, singing, art, cooking, literally anything.

he was at your beck and call all day. normally he serves the shirasagi himegimi, now he's serving you not like he doesn't already do everything you say

to summarise, he loves you with his whole heart and will do anything to make your day extra special 🥺🥺

Baal

"It's beloved's birthday soon? Oh...I suppose I should make a few preparations..."

Proceeds to invade your home while you're out and orders people around to make everything fucking perfect

It's incredible once you ignore the trespassing and you can't help but fall in love with her even more.

she's decorated your home with traditional birthday decorations and everything is just the way you'd like it - although it's very to the letter, almost like she was reading a manual while getting people to prepare things...

as soon as you ask her about it, she crumbles. she wasn't sure how to go about it exactly so she asked Yae but omitted your name to avoid getting teased, hence receiving very general birthday advice.

ITS STILL BEAUTIFUL THO SHE TOOK MOST OF YOUR LIKINGS INTO ACCOUNT JUST SAY YOU LOVE IT ALREADY

she wouldn't be too willing to leave or go outside because people will talk, but if you wish it, it shall be.

she bought you whatever you wanted plus a lil something extra as a token of her appreciation of your existence. maybe a decorative object that reminded her of you - she might be even customised it to add a personal touch

all in all, she loves you eternally and she's gonna make sure you know it every year on your special day

Childe

we all know that this menace is a money machine, right?

THIS MAN SPENT ALL HIS MORA ON YOU AND NOBODY SO MUCH AS QUESTIONED IT - HIS DEVOTION IS PROMINENT

you woke up and he presented you with your first gift. at breakfast, he cooked you a whole fucking feast. the rest of the morning, he took you out and let you pick whatever you want from multiple stores and gave you another gift. at lunch, he bought you another 50 fucking course meal

the evening, however, he spent a little more intimately.

you got to cut your three-tier cake and open the rest of your presents at home before he let you enjoy the day however you wanted, similarly to Thoma.

he did whatever you wanted - it was your birthday after all.

he made sure you knew that you were loved and appreciated and expressed how happy he is that you were born and that you're in his life.

oh, and to make up for lovingly hogging you all day, he threw you a party with all your loved ones the day after to make sure everyone got their chance to celebrate your day.

Kaeya Alberich

"Oh? Is it darling's birthday already? I'll have to take the day off to make things extra special..."

kaeya, every day is a day off for you stfu

Mr Alberich really sets aside the tension between him and his brother to ask if he can borrow Angel's Share for a lil party. Using his smooth tactics, he eventually gets Diluc to cave

(basically, Kaeya just ranted how much he loved you and wanted to make things special and Diluc fucking gave up hehe)

He got Jean, Lisa, Amber, Diluc, Venti, Fischl, Bennett, Diona, Klee, Albedo, Sucrose, Barbara, Eula, Mona, Noelle, Razor, Rosaria and all your friends and family to agree to come to Angel's Share and enjoy a night of fun and (Y/N) appreciation.

On your actual birthday, he spent the morning in bed with you, talking about how much he loved you and shamelessly flirting with you before making breakfast.

You spent the morning and most of the afternoon walking around town and enjoying yourselves, allowing the townsfolk to wish you a happy birthday.

and Kaeya convinced you into joining him at Angel's Share in the evening, only to be pleasantly surprised by the people singing happy birthday and the confetti that flew around the room.

this man is lovestruck - if you let him spoil you any longer, you'd probably collapse of over appreciation (and excessive flirty one-liners hehe)

Beidou

my girl beidou? she went all out for you, there's literally a 0.00 percent chance you don't enjoy what she had planned.

You spent your day with her walking around Liyue Harbour, doing everything you wanted.

You listened to storytellers, bought various items like fireworks and sparklers and ate good food, just enjoying each other's company until the evening arrived.

Beidou just dragged you away, making sure you closed your eyes the whole time until you reached your destination.

When you opened your eyes, you couldn't believe it - you were on the Cruz Fleet, surrounded by her crew and all your loved ones.

As soon as you stepped on, the ship leisurely sailed off into the night like some fairytale and you got to enjoy a moonlit sail, as cheesy as it sounds.

It was slow and you allowed yourself to savour the way the ships's lanterns reflects and glittered on the water a long with the moon.

You were surrounded by everyone you cared about and everyone who cared about you (but some of the crew drank a little too much in celebration of your birth hehe)

Beidou just wants you to know how much she and everyone else loves you and wants you to know that she is glad you exist <3

[jiminrings]

last chronological part for stem koo... WHEW I WATCHED THEM GROW WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN NOW

cold senior!y/n x stem major koo masterlist :D

they finally become lunchbox lovers

“you’re asking me what’s jungkook like?”

jimin couldn't be any more surprised

first of all, his day started with yOU texting him and asking if you can drop by for a second, and the moment he texted "sure???", you're literally already knocking on the door

and second, you're asking him???

“oh come on. he clings to you with every chance he gets. i thought you gave him a chance already.”

your eyes only deadpan that jimin actually gets the hint, his mouth curling in a eureka moment that he managed to figure out himself without you talking

“oH! so that’s why you’re asking me because you’re thinking of giving him an actual chance.”

alright finally

you slump in relief over not saying it out loud, expressing the slightest bit of worry you have to someone (that's not as close to you like yoongi and jin are) who'd get where you're coming from without bias

“i just wanna know how he usually is when he’s not on my heels.”

“honestly? the same. probably even a bit more clingier.”

jimin wastes no time in ratting jungkook out, even leaning back to the couch with how relaxed he is

“talks about you too. i’m sorry y/n but even i know what shampoo you use!!!”

jimins knows your wHAT

"my shampoo???"

“mhmm. made me drive him to a grocery store at 10 in the evening so he can individually smell all the shampoos without anyone calling him a creep or something like that,” he nods earnestly and doesn't look like he's playing with you or the sort

you're quite frozen and jungkook's roommate isn't at all fazed and is even pulling up pICTURES of their impromptu grocery trip

“he even made it in a scientific paper format. with the hypothesis and conclusion and everything.”

he points it out just in time when you swipe to jimin's hand holding a printed piece of paper with the document in the monitor right behind it, the next pictures being blurry because that's when jungkook freaked out

jimin gets his phone back but not without sending you the pictures you just saw even if you didn't ask for them, trying to hide the amusement in your eyes when you decide to scroll through them again later

“cut him some slack though. he’s never really had a girlfriend, y’know? or like even a crush. he’s just navigating it with his instincts and all the advice he gets.”

hold on a second

“... advice?”

he thought you'd never ask (he'll still say it even if you don't) which is why he brightly grins, hunching over as if to let you in on a guarded secret

“i’m one of his consultants!!! didn’t suggest the shampoo part though.”

who could have possibly thought of that idea then ://

you hum in faux complacency, trying to get this as fast as possible so you could make up your mind quicker

“what else?”

jimin's relaxed now that he's had a proper laugh with you and realized you aren't as Intimidating As He Thought You Were, recounting the things in his mind like a to-do list

“he’s sickeningly kind.”

the gravity of his words strike him before they do with you, straightening his posture to clear up the air right away, “but i knoW that what he did to you is the furthest thing from kind, and trust me, i really got that point across!!!”

by point, jimin means cooking him burnt meals and jungkook having to endure it because he doesn't like wasting food

additionally, that also meant jimin served kook a cRISP smack on the back of his boba ball head into next week

look at him <3 seokjin, yoongi AND jimin gave him shit!!! now isn;t that teamwork

you're unable to paint the mental image in your head because he continues, grabbing your attention once again

“but apart from that, jungkook could just be too kind for his own sake,” he says sincerely. “he’s like the kid the principal refers to in elementary when they talk about peer pressure!!!”

your first instinct is to snort at that, the mental image definitely forming in your head now

is it just sO bad that you and jimin agree on this

“jokes aside, jungkook’s really genuine.”

it's the last thing jimin wraps it off with when you stand from the couch, cheeks still a little warm when he trails you behind the door

you're just about to thank him when the door in front of you opens and almost hits you in the process, the person behind it just as alarmed

jungkook’s just now coming home because he had to pick up some last-minute groceries from the convenience store downstairs that jimin forgot from his last run, clearly startled to why would wou be here

"oH???? y/n??? what are you doing here???"

his pupils are shaking between the two of you and he's not even trying to hide is incoming panic

“.... a-are you and jimin-“

“yup! sorry bud! we were just-...” jimin's attempt at a lighthearted joke is halted as fast as it was introduced, getting a smack on the middle of his back that makes him wince

“you’re annoying, jimin."

oOOOOH you just put your palm on him!! yea at this rate he's gonna be your best friend too won't he

jungkook's processing things as fast as he could, getting a reassuring glance from you that puts him at ease

“we were just talking, kook.”

he nods even if he's still a tiny bit unsure, calling for you when you're on your way out the door

“a-about what though?”

:-)

“you’d know soon enough.”

( ♡ )

“you wanna tell me now why we went on this drive?”

seokjin yawns at a stoplight even when his car is the only one waiting on the intersection right now, not in the mood for a ticket with a printed traffic light picture of him mid-yawn in his matching pajamas anytime soon

“no reason," you sing-song and it makes him snort, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “couldn’t sleep."

“well that makes one of us.”

you've unabashedly knocked on jin's door and even if it took you two tries, he still answered nonetheless, not even asking for an explanation why before he sleepily took his keys and grabbed his house slippers for shoes

you had no destination in mind at 3 in the morning which is why jin’s just driving for no rhyme nor direction and is just going with his brain’s one-second impulses of where to turn

he’s game for anything, actually — that much you know

although you do know that jin literally wouldn't do this for anyone else besides the people he find worth all this (aka everyone except you and yoongi and ok maybe namjoon sometimes)

the drive is beyond serene and even with repetitive radio music playing in the background, you don't actually mind it

when you're with jin, it just feels like you're in a constant bubble of comfort and ease that you always try to look for in everything

he doesn't necessarily need explanations,, he just deduces from things at face-value and later ask about it when you're comfortable enough to share

jin points at a drive-thru he suddenly had a craving for as you were about to suggest it anyway

you're not even quite sure why there's a line but neither of you complain, the situation more than bearable that a little waiting wouldn't dampen your mood

the words you've been thinking of the whole day finally slip across the silence, as casual yet as sincere as they could be

“i’m really thankful that you’re in my life, jin. you know that right?”

he seems pleasantly surprised when you look at his side profile, shaking his head

“mhmm. you only tell me a couple times but you put your knee on top of mine everyday,” he chuckles at the habit of yours and he kNOWS for a fact you would put your knee on top of his if only he wasn't behind the wheel. “tell me all about it, kid.”

it's genuine laughter that encompasses the whole car, his chuckles suddenly ceasing when he realizes another possibility

“you’re not asking me for allowance, are you? because yoongi’s already bugging me for his next month’s.”

wait what

“you give yoongi an allowance???”

“you didn’t know???”

:///

“... i’m not asking for an allowance.”

“..... but do you want it,.,..”

jin sees you pursing your lips and intentionally looking at everywhere but him, already getting his answer

“fine. that’s the furthest you two could get from me!! don’t expect me to pack your lunchboxes to school now. you must be crazy.”

jin, in fact, packs you and yoongi lunchboxes more often than not

jin, aLSO, does all the paper rolling for you so when the three of u get occasionally high, it’s all nice and tight

jin is also the one who does all the talking on the phone to customer service when neither of you are willing

he asks the moment he relays your usual midnight snack slash early breakfast order he's already memorized to the attendant, patiently looking at you

“you want anything else with that?”

“i’m all good.”

it's in between cars and stoplights that the car is filled with more emotion again, acting on it when you realize it when seokjin's mid-bite on his hashbrowns

“jin?”

“yes?” he speaks muffled, looking at you once before bringing his attention back on the changing stoplight

“love you.”

he feels himself still for a second even if his foot's on the gas and one hand is on the wheel, a somber look on his face that he later smiles sincerely

“love you too, kid.”

( ♡ )

“it’s not my birthday if that’s what you’re thinking.”

yoongi sleepily mumbles the moment he feels his bed dipping, his side that was once holding a pillow now being occupied by you

“i know.”

you wedge yourself between his heavy comforter, tossing and turning until it feels comfortable

“but i actually don’t know your birthday lol it’s-...”

“fuck right off.”

yoongi doesn't question why you're in his bed, because the last time you did, it was because you were left traumatized after seeing a genuinely good horror movie that it was pending to give you nightmares

he didn't see you watch any movie today though, but he'll take you in nonetheless

“kidding.”

you offer in consolation because yoongi's birthday is in your calendar even if you know it by heart, a mindless hum in reply

it's when you drop your arm on his waist like it's dead weight and relax completely, your face near to his mop of hair that it's making him think you're actually cuddling him rn

quick how can he get a picture of this to get this framed

“are you telling me now?”

he questions with his eyes half-open, shimmying backwards so that you're able to hug him more comfortably

“my airconditioner’s busted.”

“mhmm. give me ten minutes. i’ll fix it for you.”

it's 4 am and if your airconditioner really was busted, you wouldn't have let it stay busted for that long

“don’t. it’s okay. i wanna be here anyways.”

both you and yoongi know that your airconditioner’s in tip-top shape and is actually the one that blows the coldest air in the dorm

sometimes you think he’s an angel in disguise because there’s no way you deserve a human best friend like him

“yoongs?”

“hmm?” he hums before he falls asleep again, trying to keep up while having his eyes closed so he could listen to you

“you know that i’m really glad you’re in my life, right?”

oh

:)

“mhmm. you don’t say, sweets," he teasingly chuckles, feeling his ribcage rise in amusement under your arm

“fuck-“

“yeah, i know. i do, because you put me as your family member in your emergency contacts, but you don’t know that i know that.”

... oh

you don't even know how yoongi came to know but you don't question it, the warmth in your heart doubling

“love you.”

“love you too, y/n.”

( ♡ )

jungkook’s the most nervous he’s been in awhile

and that’s coming from him who sees yoongi in almost a daily basis

after all, jin did tell him you can be quite forgetful becasue you tend to take care of things all at once

he’ll sTILL try to be as smooth and casual as much as possible though

“big game tomorrow huh?”

and by big game that means as in your last qualifying game to whether or not your team would compete in the yearly (not to mention prestigious) soccer tournament

you chuckle at the thought because by now, you should already be sleeping and getting some rest even if it’s just seven in the evening

but you’re here <3 out at a park near jungkook’s dorm, sharing hand warmers <3

“yeah. it’s a make or break match.”

“i actually haven’t seen you play before, y’know," jungkook silently admits, looking down on his shoes as he thinks if he's just offended you

“really?” you ask in genuine curiosity, “then how come you interviewed me for your little survey when you haven’t watched me play before?”

oh

tHAT

“i uh, i actually just really wanted to talk to you that day. i-i don’t normally approach people first, but you just looked warm enough for me to reach out first.”

he's babbling before he even knows it, oblivious the growing smile on your face

“then i asked jimin because he kNOWS everything, and it was all in good fate that it turned out you were the soccer captain!! i was excited because i had a legitimate reason to talk to you that day.”

so that’s why

he wanted to talk to you even before his lunchboxes were taken out of the situation!!!

“how about me? why was it me?”

ahem

you're not trying to be funny but you can't help but chuckle, scratching the back of your ear in thought

“i honestly couldn’t tell either, jungkook.”

he almost coughs in shock, masking it off with playing it off for the bite of the chill of the night

“all i know is that something told me it was you,” you timidly add, looking down on your hands. “and i went for it.”

right can he chalk up mad blushing to the night air

he fiddles with the drawstrings of his sweatpants this time, his eye contact with you becoming fidgety

“big game tomorrow,” he repeats and you're just about to tell him that your conversation sounds like it's gonna be repeated

“don’t forget your eyedrops, alright?”

....

was that smooth enough

“eyedrops?”

yeah

uhm

that was... random

“oh right! you gave them back to me.”

“yeah. you should open it tonight, probably. to see if it’s already all-evaporated, y’know? if it is, then let me know tomorrow so i can buy you new ones.”

“highly doubt that they would, but alright, kook.”

you take the little banter to be your cue to walk back to your dorm, about to say goodbye to him when he makes an audible sound of confusion

it confuses you even more when he's trailing behind you

“your dorm’s twenty feet away from where we are, jungkook.”

“y-yeah i know that!! i’m walking you home, silly.”

right!!

hee-hee

he’s keeping his hands to himself even if he BADLY wants to hold your hand or even your forearm but he has to resist that urge rn

but he does intentionally brush shoulders with you and mumble “pothole.” so he could nUDGE you to the side even if there aren’t any to begin with

silence with jungkook now is comfortable as it has been for more than awhile, the walk passing by faster that you almost wish you walked slower

goddamn it he should've said there was a pothole atleast ten more times to make the walk longer

“goodnight, koo.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

there’s obviously no goodnight kiss but he dOES get a squeeze on his bicep

you take your time when you come home — to unwind as much as you could before you stress yourself out tomorrow

your shower routine may have took a little longer this time but it makes you get dressed as quick as you could when your eyes see the origami box you've been putting off from opening, one that jungkook just told you to open, because as far as you knew they were just EYEDROPS!!!

... the supposed bottle of eyedrops that’s too well-packaged and clearly thought-out

an origami box, a carebear heart initial drawstring pouch AND a plain ziplock baggie as if the other two weren’t enough

it’s when you open the box within the ziplock bag that you feel it’s definitely not as light as a bottle of eyedrops would be

there’s a very visible dent weighing down on the pouch (that’s within the origami box) that’s cLEARLY not your eyedrops

you’re actually nervous to the point that you just open unfurl it with your eyes closed, feeling two items in there

the plastic bottle of eyedrops, and definitely the cool surface of what feels like

a bracelet?

it’s a pretty straightforward yet timelessly elegant silver link bracelet, equipped with a couple options for how tight or loose you want to wear it

it hits you all at once and god does it just render you speechless

jungkook has this bracelet too.

you’re quite speechless and in between looking at it up-close to avoiding looking at it at all, trying to calm your breathing by focusing on the eyedrops instead

the said eyedrops you've been so used to seeing that you immediately sense that there's something oFF with the label???

its stuck-on, that's for sure, but something about it is not as seamless and stationary and official as it should be

it's almost as if there's something snuck inside it and-

...

..... there is

it's scotch tape that's just as thin as the actual label of the bottle itself, having to peel the whole label in order to see it in entirety

it's the same double-sided label jungkook worked so hard to peel flawlessly so he could try and replicate it in the same exact design and measurements, having to even take it up to a classmate from stem he once knew that transferred to graphic design

(yeonjun did ask for a science paper in exchange for his replication of the eyedrops slash adhesive label because who fucking kNEW he still had science even when in graphic design, but jungkook thinks it's fair trade so it's worth it)

it's the same exact label jungkook's had for a month and only recently gave it to you a week ago, a truth he's long since known

it's the same exact label that reads —

i love you

— in his handwriting you've come to known by heart, the label in your hand feeling much more heavy than the bracelet in the other

you already know what to do.

.

.

.

it's game day and u are about to launch yourself into orbit if you hear oNE more drum cheer because it just makes you nervous even more

yeah SURE it makes you pumped when it's the actual game itself but not now!!! not now when you're pumping yourself with electrolytes and at the risk of peeing from nervousness and too much hydration

you haven't seen seokjin nor yoongi yet and as much as that lessens the pressure on you, that alsO makes you nervous because they're your emotional support people!!!! where r they

usually you would see them in the front row of the bleachers and neither of them have any snacks because all of their focus would be on you

jin is nOT mr. kim from student affairs when it comes to your games,,, nuh-uh sir,,, he's that guy from the other team that glares so hard it dISTRACTS me from scoring in the perspective of the opposing team

coach's about to whistle like five minutes from now for a final huddle and everyone's getting their final stretches in

you're too busy looking for people that you actually want to be here that you're taken off-guard when one of them grasps at your forearm, a breathless smile one his face

"give them hell out there, alright. you're a champ."

it's jungkook!!!

IT'S JUNGKOOK!!!!@&$&":@:"$

he looks especially handsome today that you just short-circuit immediately

he's wearing a shirt with your team colors on it aND!!!

he ditched his glasses today to wear contacts, not only because he wanted to look a bit more different and special today, but because he's also scared that a ball would be thrown in his direction and injure him with the additional impact of his glasses

his hair's pushed back with his forehead showing instead of his usual hairstyle and god is it making you a little dizzy

he's beaming at you and his eyes immediately wander to your wrist, not expecting the feeling in his gut next

you're not wearing the bracelet.

jungkook feels the sudden urge to cry even when in public but it's when you grip at his forearm tightly that he stays still, squeaking when you realize his line of thought

"can't wear any jewelry on the field. i-i'm wearing your bracelet as an anklet for the meantime, it's underneath my sock."

...

....

...... oh my god

jungkook's never felt this frozen and euphoric at the same time, sputtering over nothing when your face looks like the furthest thing from joking

you're about to excuse yourself suddenly when your eyes finally take notice what's thrown on his shoulder, something about it being so familiar that it throws you off for awhile

"is that my jersey?"

he nods eagerly to your query, proudly unfolding it for you to see your spare soccer jersey with your surname and number right on it, the exact marks being the same from when you tried to use a laundry pen on it

he didn't get it replicated???

"h-how did you get that? where did you get that?"

jungkook thought you'd never ask, the words he never thought he'd say already leaving his lips

"yoongi gave it to me."

you only have a handful of jerseys on-hand and even if you could always request for more, the ones you have at home are a little more sentimental

you gave jin and yoongs one each from the only several ones you had, and you know yoongi would not give up his for jungkook

but now, you do know that he snuck to your closet and took one to give it to jungkook willingly, trusting him enough to give it to you behind your back

kook's sTILL not fully-forgiven but they're getting there sooner or later

wait why is this making you cry

before you know it, you're pushing yourself to jungkook to hug him tightly, the boy being surprised for a second but ultimately reciprocating once it registers

"i love you too."

.

.

.

.

.

this is the last chronological update for stem koo aka lunchbox lovers!! however, this is not the end of them!! with the end of this chronological series, this means that all the future updates don't necessarily have to be linked — they're miscellaneous and don't have to follow a specific layout like this part of their arc.

with that said, feel free to send in asks on what you want to see from the lunchbox lovers (misc. requests, questions, and everything in between) and i'd love to fulfill them because after all, this series was born purely out of your ideas <3 also pls send in ur thoughts and feedback and love because i have da greatest time reading through all of them!! thank you for all the love for da stem koo universe <3

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

✖   —   chapter summary: Now that Zeke has explained what truly happened with Yelena, all your troubles have finally ended. Except that now you need to start avoiding Porco. However, things change once you overhear a conversation in the woman's bathroom.

✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖   —   chapter tags/warnings: college au, descriptions of panic attacks, lots of self-doubt, gaslighting, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating. 

✖   —   a/n: i have posted the playlist that goes with this series! click here to check this post <3

chapter three: me and my husband

Porco looked at his cellphone, an ill sensation filling up his stomach as he read over and over your last messages. For the past few days, he had been trying to reach out to you but he had been rejected every time.

He knew something wrong was going on the moment you said you couldn’t make it to his lacrosse game. Ever since you became friends, you hadn’t missed a single game. He had once seen you finishing an essay on your phone and sending it while you were sitting on the bleachers, excited for the game to begin. He had seen you falling asleep on his shoulder during a party after a game, too tired from studying for a test that you took earlier.

Porco sighed. He wished he could find any other reason to explain your behaviour but the only one that came to his mind was his late night confession to you. He shouldn’t have told you he loved you. Now you were avoiding him and his feelings and he was scared he had lost your friendship completely.

He put the phone on his back pocket and grabbed his keys, heading to the parking lot. After getting into his car, he turned on the radio and drove out of the campus, entering the main highway of the city. He wasn’t sure where he was heading to, but all he knew is that he wanted to stop thinking about you, the moment he thought you had shared and the dry messages that followed.

He had really fucked it up.

…

 Sitting on your faculty’s corridor floor, you looked over at the texts Porco had been sending you the past week. It physically pained you to be so curt with someone that meant so much to you. Porco had always been there for you, even in the times you had told him you really didn’t need him. He cared when you got sick, when you were sad and also when you wanted company to crash a party on campus. You two had been inseparable since the day you met and he was already acquaintances with Annie and Armin due to all the time he had spent at your place.

This was the right thing to do, you told yourself one more time, closing your Instagram. You were taking the right decision. Porco had fallen in love with you and then had tried to make you think your boyfriend had cheated on you. If Zeke hadn’t pointed that out for you, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. Truly, you were lucky Zeke had been understanding about the whole situation and had forgiven you for not trusting in him.

Porco wasn’t a bad person. You knew in your heart he wasn’t. But you had been wrong to trust he had your best interest in his mind.

That’s what didn’t make sense. Why had Porco, sweet and caring Porco had suddenly decided to put you against Zeke only just because he had caught feelings for you? The Porco you knew wouldn’t have done that. If he truly only wanted to drive you away from Zeke, he would have let you kiss him the night he spent with you. He would have taken the opportunity, right? So, why didn’t he?

Your head started hurting.

Your thumb ghosted over Porco’s contact on your phone, wondering whether to call him or not. You missed him dearly and knew that if you asked him to be honest, he would. There were countless moments in the past where he had been honest with you, from the time he confessed to accidentally stepping on your foundation powder and the time he opened up about his father’s death.

He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me.

Zeke’s voice resonated in your ears and you bit your tongue. He was right. You needed to remember Porco was trying to put you against your boyfriend.

Before you could think of a counterargument, you shot a quick text to Zeke. Yes. A day with your boyfriend would help you keep your mind busy.

“wanna hang out later? <3”

You watched intently, a small smile on your face as the three dots twinkled on your screen. Zeke’s answer came a few seconds later.

“Can’t. Exam tomorrow :(“

He then sent you a picture of a couple of books over a table that you recognized as the university’s library. He also had the tumbler you had given him a couple of months ago, filled with straight black coffee if you had to take a guess.

“:(( okaaaay, good luck on your exam, love u!”

“<3”

You put your phone away and sighed. You missed Zeke too. The few days after you had confronted him about the time you thought you saw Yelena and him kissing, he had showered you with love. You had spent the weekend at his place wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of his and making love several times a day. You snuggled to him on the couch as he watched an old documentary and playfully took the cigar from his lips and took a puff yourself. ‘Ladies like you shouldn’t smoke,’ he had said playfully as he took it back from your lips and then pressed a kiss on your temple.

Nevertheless, the short honeymoon phase after you made up had come to an end. You knew it was going to happen, but now your body and heart were craving more of him and his classes were taking all his time. If it wasn’t an exam it was a group project or a study session and even if you knew seniors had it way harder than you, you missed him. Missed his beard scratching your neck, his strong cologne and his deep chuckle whenever you managed to make him smile.

Maybe you could walk around the mall. You still had some birthday money and you could treat yourself a little. Maybe a new body cream or a pair of cute underwear from Victoria Secret to surprise your boyfriend after he was done with his classes. Yes, a shopping trip was exactly what you needed to stop thinking so much. Smiling, you walked to the bathroom of your faculty, just a quick detour to freshen up before you got into your car. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror and took out your lipstick, fixing it carefully.

“I fucking hate her.”

You turned around as you saw three girls entering the bathroom. They stood by your side, none of them seeming to notice your presence. One of them fixing her hair, another was looking down at her phone, eyebrows knitted together and mumbling more and more curses and the last one just leaned against the bathroom stalls, arms crossed against her chest as she watched the other two.

“We did tell you she wasn’t meant to be trusted,” she reminded the girl with the phone. When she raised her head, you recognized her as Pieck, one of Porco’s close friends, who you had seen around at a lot of parties and on many of his Instagram photos.

“How is that helping me?” Pieck asked icily.

“I’m just saying, Yelena is shady. Telling you all that crap about only being able to open up with you— and for what? For her to post photo after photo of her fuckboy?” the girl in front of the mirror said. “Like, nobody needs to know you’re getting it at the library, why post about it? Literally, nobody cares.”

“She’s not worth it,” the other girl interjected. 

“She really isn’t, babe. And Zeke isn’t even that hot,” her friend continued with a mocking laugh. “The one that looks like a clown is her, not you. Just let it go.”

“He truly is a bad case of the monkey face,” Pieck agreed with a snort. “Men like that are what keep me a lesbian.”

“Hi Pieck,” you greeted her. For the first time, Pieck looked your way and widened her eyes, recognizing you in an instant.

“Hey,” she said in an apologetic voice. “I— I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.”

You faked a chuckle. “It’s okay. I just wanted to say you shouldn’t worry about them, Yelena is—”

“Yeah, yeah, we both shouldn’t worry. You’re probably trying to move on and ignore them too,” Pieck sighed and then pursed her lips in discomfort. “But I know you were Zeke’s girlfriend for a while, it’s normal you don’t want to hear about who he’s fucking now—”

“Zeke and I are still together,” you interrupted her.

Pieck’s face fell at your words. She looked at her friends, who were also looking at each other with an indecipherable expression. Your furrowed your eyebrows, confused as to why they were sharing those glances. Why would they think you weren’t with Zeke? Sure, you hadn’t posted photos with him lately but that didn’t mean you weren’t together anymore.

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Pieck said softly to her friends. They nodded and said they would be by the cafeteria before leaving. Once they went away, Pieck closed the bathroom door and walked to you again.

“Why— why would you think we’re not together?” you insisted, your voice trembling more than you would have wanted.

“Yelena and Zeke are fucking,” she sentenced in a soft voice. You shook your head.

“I know that’s what it looks like but Yelena likes women,” you said. “You— I mean you guys were dating or something, right? You know she’s a lesbian, she’s just pretending to have something with Zeke so her parents back off for a while.”

Pieck’s silence was deafening.

“Right?” you pushed. “It’s cool because she’s a lesbian and—”

“Yelena is bisexual.”

You paused, blinking as you tried to understand. After a few seconds, you shook your head.

“She’s not.”

“The reason we’re not dating anymore is because I saw her fucking Zeke at a party,” she explained.

“No,” you said, and shook your head once more. “No, because if it happened at a party then someone would have seen them. Someone would have noticed, there would have been rumours, I would have  known . Pieck, someone would have told me, Reiner, Marcel, Porco—”

“They weren’t there. Almost everyone was a senior.”

“Then you! You would have told me,” you cried. “You’re telling me you saw my boyfriend fucking someone else and didn’t tell me!? Pieck—!”

“I thought you weren’t together anymore!” she defended herself. “What was I supposed to think when every single one of his friends at that shitty apartment knew he was fucking her in the bedroom and they all acted like it was a normal thing to do? I see all these photos of both of them and…” she continued, shaking her phone. “Of course I think he’s not with you anymore! Yelena is uploading pictures as she rests her legs on his lap, about their movie dates at his place and you want me to think she has a girlfriend!?”

Tears started falling from your eyes as she spoke. You sniffled, trying to compose yourself but you could feel every muscle of your body shaking.

“Does Porco know?” you asked in a whisper.

“Porco?”

“I know you two are best friends since high school. You— you had to tell him. If this was real, if this happened, you had to tell Porco,” you reasoned. “So tell me, Pieck, does Porco know?” you insisted, raising your voice, hating the way it cracked at the end.

Pieck shook her head. “I told him Yelena cheated on me, didn’t tell him with who.”

“Why?”

“Because he told me not to date Yelena, said she wasn’t a good person. I didn’t want to prove Porco right, you know him,” Pieck said with a small shrug.

You nodded idly, your eyes lost. No. It didn’t make sense, it didn’t— even if it did. It did make sense but it  couldn’t make sense. Because if Pieck was right, if Yelena and Zeke were—

No.

“Give me a date,” you whispered.

“What?”

“When was this?”

“I don’t— Two weeks ago?”

“I need to know the exact date, Pieck.”

“Girl, I don’t remember exactly, I—”

“Give me a date, Pieck!” you sobbed, raising your voice. She sighed and nodded, taking out her phone.

You watched as Pieck went through her messages with Yelena, scrolling up as she tried to remember the date. Your breath was hitching, inhaling more than you were exhaling but you didn’t care. You wanted to know when it was. Pieck was going to tell you it happened on a date where he was with you. She was going to say it happened one of the nights you and Zeke stayed the weekend at his place and then you would know she’s lying. Yes, that was going to happen. She would tumble over her own lie and this nightmare would be over.

“March 31st,” Pieck murmured. “I kept texting her, asking where she was before I went to look for her,” she reminisced, before showing you her phone.

.

.

                                                            00:36

. 

                                                                                           lena where are u

                                                                                                            ?????

                                          why are my friends saying you’re with zeke rn

                                                                                         yelena answer me

                                                                                    fuck u i’m going there

                                                            01:19

 .

                                                FUCK YOU YELENA YOURE THE WORST

                                                                  PIECE OF SHIT IVE EVER MET

                                                                            REALLY???? ZEKE?????

                                                                           HOPE YOU GET HERPES

                                                                                 I FUCKING HATE YOU

babe, i’m sorry

can we talk?

.

. 

A bitter taste crept inside your mouth as you took out your phone and went through yours and Zeke’s messages, looking desperately for the date. It was the weekend you spent together. It had to be. The memories of Zeke’s kitchen calendar that said April were lying to you. It had to be March. Or maybe he changed the calendar because he was with you on March 31st.

You scrolled up until March and went to read the messages exchanged on that day.

.

.

                                                            07:23

.

Good morning! I know it’s really early

But I want to see you today <3

Meet me at the tennis court?

                                                                                  sure, i’ll take an uber :)

.

.

Silent sobs escaped your mouth as your phone started shaking in your trembling hands. Pieck whispered apologies and you wanted nothing more than to tell her to shut up, that it wasn’t her fault, that she wasn’t the one that swore she wanted to marry you and then went to fuck someone else at a party, not caring if he was seen or not.

But it wasn’t true. Zeke said it was just a ruse, that Yelena just wanted to hide her queerness, that they were just good friends. He said so. Pieck had to be lying, she had to be. She was just messing with you, lying to see how much you could believe her. Because Zeke wouldn’t do that, you were the one he trusted, you were the one he was going to marry, you—

Pieck was still holding her phone in front of you.

With the very same date.

And Yelena admitting her crime.

But it couldn't be right. There had to be a mistake because Zeke loved you. He loved you and he had told you about his family, he had taken you to meet his grandparents, he promised he hadn’t kissed Yelena that night, he—

Had he not kissed her?

Was it only a movie night?

…

No, it hadn’t.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Pieck’s voice sounded far, your lips parted as you tried to gasp for air. You lifted your head and saw her lips moving but you couldn’t hear any sound but your heart beating out of your chest. Tingles started creeping on your fingers and without you being able to do anything to prevent it, you dropped your phone on the bathroom floor.

Why didn’t it make a sound?

Why were your fingers numb?

You lifted your head and Pieck was gone. Dismissing her sudden disappearance, you crouched down and picked your phone. You winced at the huge crack on your screen and slid your finger several times over it until you could press on Zeke’s contact and call him.

As his phone rang, you pressed your back on the wall, slowly sinking until you were sitting on the floor.

“Baby, I told you I was studying for this test, I can’t—”

“I know about you and Yelena,” you said in a broken voice. You heard him let out an annoyed sigh on the other line.

“Didn’t we talk about this already? I told you she’s not—”

“I know about the party. The day we played baseball and— that same night you went to a party and fucked her,” you sobbed. You wiped the tears on your face with the back of your hand. “Zeke, tell me it’s a lie, tell me you didn’t do this, please,  please  tell me you didn’t really fuck Yelena,” you begged. “Please.”

“You know what? Get some help. Like, psychological help. This isn’t normal.”

The silence after Zeke hung up choked you. Your chest rose up and down as you sobbed uncontrollably. Your brain was screaming. Loudly. ‘Make it stop,’ you told yourself. ‘Get it together. Make it stop.’

Make it stop.

                         Make it stop.

                                                 Make it stop.

                                                                         Make it stop.

                                                                                                 Make it stop.

 It’s a lie.

                                                                                                  Make it stop.

He lied to you.

                                                                                                              Stop.

He fucked her.

                                                                                                 Please, stop.

He lied.

                                                                                              I can’t breathe.

.

.

                                             Inhale.

                                                                            Exhale.

                                            Inhale.

                                                                            Exhale.

                                            Inhale.

                                                            Inhale. 

                                                            Inhale. 

                                                            Inhale.

.

.

…

When you woke up, Porco was there.

Your head felt heavy as you tried to sit up, rubbing your eyes. A quick look around let you know you were in your apartment but you weren’t sure as to  how , or why your friend was there, his phone on his lap and his eyes looking at you filled with worry.

He whispered your name as if his voice could hurt you. “How are you feeling?”

“What are you doing here?” you asked groggily. You noticed your throat was hurting as well. “What hour is it?” you mumbled as you palmed your jean pockets looking for your phone. You found it hidden between two pillows and pressed the power button, trying to see if you had any unread messages.

None.

“Pieck called me,” Porco explained. “And it’s eight and a half.”

Pieck. Pieck with her friends in the bathroom, Pieck with the text messages. Everything came back to you in a second and you couldn’t help but wince at the way your head hurt.

“How are you feeling?” he insisted. You took a deep breath. The small movement made you realize how much the muscles of your back were hurting along with your arms. You licked your lips, hating how dry they felt against your tongue.

“I broke my phone.”

Porco furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“I— I dropped it. There’s a crack on the screen.”

He nodded slowly and looked down at his shoes, his forearms resting on his knees. You could almost listen to his loud thoughts, one coming after another inside his head. Porco sighed and turned his head back to you.

“Want me to get it fixed? Marcel knows a guy, I’m sure he can get it done by tomorrow.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s working just fine,” you said, passing your thumb over the crack. “No need to change it.”

Porco watched your eyes get lost on the dark screen and tightened his lips. He had the urge to throw your phone out of your window, make you understand you had to leave it, that it wasn’t good for you, that you didn’t need it, that you didn’t need  him —

Instead, he nodded.

“What happened?” you asked.

Porco paused, deliberating his words before speaking. “Pieck called and told me what you guys talked about and that… you didn’t take it well. She said you were crying and— that you had a panic attack, so she left the bathroom to look for help. She found Armin and he was the one that helped you regain your breath. Once you settle down, he called Annie to tell her what happened and she picked you up. When I got here you were already asleep on the couch, Annie said it was okay if I waited here.”

“I… don’t remember much,” you confessed with a grimace. “I don’t remember Armin helping me out. I— I do remember what Pieck and I talked about, though. Wish I could forget it instead,” you snorted. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head.  Ouch . Why did every muscle of your body hurt so much?

“Wanna watch some shitty reality TV?” he offered. He didn’t miss the way a small smile appeared on your face.

In a matter of minutes, Porco had gone into your room and brought your laptop, and started looking for the show on Netflix. He put your laptop on his thighs and let you crawl by his side, your head resting against his shoulder.

“Wish they had Ink Master,” you sighed, as the intro of Netflix’s newest reality show played on your screen.

“We both know Netflix doesn’t have good shows.”

You snorted. “Black Mirror is good.”

“And yet we’re watching The Circle,” Porco teased you.

“Weren’t you the one that binged Season 1 on one night and then asked me to do the same so you could rant?” you reminded him with a playful tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied nonchalantly, making you chuckle.

What followed next was a comfortable silence. One episode went by and Porco made no attempts to stop it from automatically playing the second episode. You snuggled closer, the fabric of his green jacket feeling nice against your cheek. How long had it been since you felt so much peace with someone else by your side?

In any other situation, you would be commenting on it, pressing pause just to bitch and rant about the contestants or make quick runs to the kitchen. But Porco was sitting still, his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was trying to comfort you the best way he could, knowing any words would fail, he aimed to create a safe space for you and not force you to behave normally when you both knew better than to completely ignore what had happened earlier.

Right. Zeke.

You felt your eyes watering and bit the inside of your cheek to prevent them from falling down. Focusing on your breath, you inhaled and exhaled rhythmically until the knot in your throat seemed to loosen up. Your feelings towards Zeke were confusing, a part of you wanting to run, look for him and demand an explanation. Another part of you wanted to face with, punch his stupid little face until you got tired and leave him on the floor. And another, maybe a bigger part of you wanted him to cradle you in his strong arms, kiss your temple and scratch your skin with his beard as he whispered sweet nothings to you.

You swallowed. Maybe Zeke was right. Maybe you did need psychological help.

Could you trust his words if he were to provide another explanation? Could you ever trust in him again? Most of all, could you trust yourself? Many voices had different opinions inside your head, yet they all agreed on something.

You were miserable.

“Every time I’m not with him, I’m anxious,” you mumbled, the words leaving your mouth before you thought them over. Porco moved his hand to pause the show, but you gestured to him not to. “And when he’s with me…” you continued, “I feel like I’m drowning.”

Your voice cracked at the end. Porco’s hand twitched, not sure what to do next. Should he hold you, put an arm around your shoulder to comfort you? Should he not move a muscle until you were done? Should he offer a word of comfort? He turned his head to you and noticed tears were silently streaming down your face.

“If Zeke was in front of me right now and told me Pieck lied her ass off, even after all the proof she showed me today… I would believe him. I would,” you sobbed. “And I hate myself so much for it. I’m so tired of this, I’m so tired of loving him, Pock.”

Porco’s hand cupped your head, his fingers gently caressing your hair. You snuggled closer to him, his perfume soothing the pain inside your heart and his gentle gesture comforting you. That was the magic Porco had. You knew he wasn’t always good with his words and most of the time he preferred to show rather than tell and boy, did he do a spectacular good job at showing you how much he cared.

He was there. Even after you had been ignoring him for over two weeks, he was here with his green jacket and his earthy-scented perfume ready to hold you if you needed him. And you did. You could never think of a moment where you wouldn’t want him to be there with you. 

You wiped your face with the back of your hand and reluctantly pulled away from his touch, turning on your seat so you were facing him. You paused your show and put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” you said, biting down your bottom lip. “For being here and waiting until I woke up. I— I’ve been such a bad friend to you,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry, I just—”

Porco shook his head. “No. I’m sorry for what I said the night I stayed here.”

“No, you don’t need to— I mean— I wasn’t mad about it,” you fumbled with your words, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t know,” Porco shrugged. “Felt like I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him. “Thank you for staying with me that night. I really didn’t want to be alone.”

“I just— Can I say something else? Promise this is the last time I talk about it.” You nodded. “I didn’t love you the first time I met you,” he blurted, shrugging. “I mean, it’s not like I saw you and caught feelings— first time I saw you you were drunk off your ass at Reiner’s party. I was your friend first. Still am, nothing will change that. And honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised if my feelings went away,” he chuckled. “Who knows. Might finally meet someone else and fall for them.”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll meet someone,” you agreed with a strained smile.

“Whatever happens, know that before anything else, I’m your friend,” Porco said, golden eyes setting on yours. “And that will never change. You’re stuck with me.”

“And you’re stuck with me.”

“See any other reason why I’m watching a shitty reality show on a Tuesday night?”

At this, you hit Porco with one of the pillows, square on his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at his stunned face.

“You’re  so  fucked,” he said, putting the laptop on the coffee table in front of him.

You took this as a sign to run, the ache in your muscles forgotten at the back of your head as you tried to dodge the pillows Porco was throwing at you. Your legs weren’t weak anymore, as you quickly jumped to avoid the furniture and picked up one of the pillows to throw it back at him. Your heart was no longer aching, but jumping as you cackled when Porco tripped and fell. Even if your eyes were watering again, this time was due to the excessive laughter. And yes, your breath was hitching but it was thanks to Porco chasing you around the living room.

You let yourself fall on the floor next to Porco, the coldness of the floor soothing your skin as he dramatically held his knee against his chest like an injured soccer player. You turned your head to him, smiling at his antics as he filled your heart with happiness once  more.

Maybe that had been his power all along.

[swinterr]

fic rec vi ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez )  if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

nct 

jeno

no title by @tyongf-nct | s

- smut blurb.

body guards and boyfriend by @pastelsicheng | f

-  sometimes the only way you can really get some alone time with your boyfriend is by making his job hard.

lipstick smears by @kopikokun | f

-  jeno never thought trying to get his makeup artist’s attention would be this hard.

jaehyun

[10:30] by @moonttaeil | 

- a lockdown moment.

[2:40] by @nct-jungjaehyun | f a

- cute quality fluff time with bf!jae with a dash of angst.

[11:41] by @jeongvision | f 

- family time with apples.

just like magic by @starryhyuck | f s

-  jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.

love to hate me by @moonctzeny | s a 

-  you and jaehyun meet as sm trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you decided to leave the company and pursue a solo career. when you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other.

moving on by @ddeonghwaa | f a

- reader has been chasing jae for some time but when she moved on jae suddenly enter the picture.

sun&moon by @ppangjae | f a

-  asking jeong jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. one can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right?

snack run with a snack by @kopikokun | f 

-  on your usual movie night with the members, they assign you sudden snack collecting duty. you’re a little peeved, but at least jaehyun offers to tag along. Unfortunately for you, things really aren’t going in your favour tonight.

lover boy by @neoct-zen | f s

- bunch fics of lover boy jae and reader.

jungwoo

one more time, please by @haequarius | f s

-  you don’t know what you and Jungwoo are, but you are certainly weak for him.

jealous by @whiplashsan | s 

-  jungwoo is all smiles and sunshine until he gets jealous, and he just so happens to get jealous over the smallest things when it comes to you.

doyoung

sugar, spice and everything not nice by @alreadyblondenow | s

-  doyoung getting your ring size wrong, unprotected sex, kitchen sex, slight fingering, wedding tragedies.

no title by @ncteaxhoe | s

- dom!doyoung, rough? i need holy water.

the little one by @ethaeriyeol | f 

-  a gift of life; female reader x husband!Doyoung; fluff, light angst, married au

lucas

exquisite taste by @weishenkonbini | s f

- smut but with a fluffy ending.

for you always by @labyrinthsofyou | f

-  in which you surprise yukhei when he forgets about your date.

6:19 by @cozykpopblurbs | f

- a cute fluff ft kun and winwin.

10:18 pm by @nctsoftarchives | f

- reader supports lucas at his superm debut stage. 

16:47 by @sichengssmile | f s 

- a fluffy smut. lucas a big boi.

missed you by @tokyobts | a f

-  after you and yukhei broke up, yukhei still has feelings for you. he reaches out to you at school and tries to get you back. at first you avoid him but later his actions manage to make your heart flutter. you’ve come to a sudden conclusion that you maybe still want him in your life.

johnny

34 + 35 by @domjaehyun | s 

- you and your husband johnny decide to take your marriage to the next step.

i couldn’t wait a little longer by @alreadyblondenow | s f a

-  you two were never together longer than two days, but the feelings, oh the feelings that you have for each other is clear as the day. it was a never-ending try of making the relationship official. johnny tried, you tried but it never happens.

what happens in korea, not stays in korea by @alreadyblondenow | f s 

-  a week vacation in korea for your sister’s wedding became even more exciting when a famous dj had a crush on you. johnny was sure that it’s love at first sight. not putting both of your careers on the line, you two had no regrets when the time comes and you finally leave.

laundry day by @immabiteyou | s

- a domestic fluffy smut.

make a wish by @sluttyten | s f a

-  you’re jungwoo’s sister, and he’s made it clear he wants you and Johnny to have nothing to do with each other. so you and johnny start fake dating to piss him off.

want it all by @sluttyten | f s 

-  you are entirely innocent to the point of being naive. johnny is not innocent, but he loves that you are because it means he can teach you everything you don’t know.

sungchan

wish i was her by @softsungchan | f a 

-  you wished you were her, laying in Sungchan’s arms and feeling his warm breath on your neck, giggling about sweet nothings whispered into the starry night. You wished for it to be you, the girl he liked.

2:21 am by @the32ndbeat | f 

- sungchan being whipped, thru a text message.

haechan

14:52 by @ukiyoexo | f

- a cute haechan and reader ft the reader’s baby sister moment.

prince’s order by @nsheetee | f

-  prince haechan nurses you after you faint, and orders you to stay with him until you feel better.

sweet treat by @markresonates | s

-  haechan takes you for ice cream but all you can think about is sex with him.  when you act like a brat, eventually you end up in the bathroom. with no panties. 

clingy by @love-mi | f 

-  I’m not clingy! I just love your company and constantly want to be around you and have your full attention at all times

mark

hyuck is always right by @luvrenjun00 | f 

- ceo!mark x reader ft baby donghyuck. a tooth-rotting fluff.

taeyong

snow storm by @whereisten | f s 

- a fluffy smut whilst a snow storm.

1:59 by @smoll-tangerine | f

- reader and taeyong ft my favorite game (where i always die first) among us!

bts

taehyung

is this allowed 1 2 by @seokiie  | f s

- how were you supposed to know bts would be filming at your coffee shop today? how were you supposed to know a certain curly-haired boy would take a liking  to you?

cabin pressure | f by @jiminrings | f 

-  pilot!y/n who accidentally became famous bc of a viral post about her, best friend!jimin!, taehyung having a shy lil crush on you aND ot7 being meanies for a tad bit :((

art major!tae and biochem major!yn | f by @jiminrings | f

-  tae’s cold and probably needs a friend more than he needs a model, y/n feels this nEED to take care of him, a term of enderment then a dash of emotional constipation and a sprinkle of jealousy :D

gank mid lane by @kimtaehyunq | f s 

- gank / verb: (in a video game) use underhand means to defeat or kill (a less experienced opponent)

birthday surprise by @ephemeralkookie |

-  like every year, you prepare a little surprise for your boyfriend’s birthday, one that you’ve been preparing for days. and after a very tiring day, taehyung only wants to spend the night in your loving arms.

jungkook

cookies & cream | s by @1kook | f s 

-  jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (and maybe having his dick sucked.)

unholy night | s by @ephemeralkookie | f s

-  after a christmas day passed with the Jeon’s family, Jungkook decides to transform the holy night into an unholy one.

‘a short’ abstinence | s a by @seokiie | s a

-  maybe blue-balling you boyfriend (who has an insanely high sexual drive) wasn’t the best.

in which she’s done with him by @minstrivia | a

-  jungkook angst/fluff where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone.

bad influence by @noteguk | s 

-  in which you know jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

jock!jk and shy art major!yn by @jiminrings | f

-  established relationship ft. jock!jk and shy art major!y/n, y/n gets an unexpected pep talk and jungkook doubts himself, and either so much tears or so much dUST according to kook

special affair by @1oserjk | f

-  sugar daddy au except it’s just jk spoiling u thru animal crossing

fairy of shampoo by @ironicarmy | f s

-  sundays are for relaxation, house cleaning, and happiness.

abstract ft bob ross by @mimithings97 | f

-  paintbrush in one hand, joint in the other and you sitting on his dick is what jeongguk wants. and what jeongguk wants, jeongguk gets.

badboy!jungkook by @jungshookz | f 

- badboy!jungkook falls for good girl reader ft the boys and the reader’s apple. 

growing by @lesgetittkookie | f

- dad!jungkook teacher his daughter how to walk. super super cute family/domestic fluff.

quiet, baby by @bratkook | s 

- i don’t how to write a summary on smuts so imma just put this. reader and jungkook doing something in the subway.

still want that by @whatifyoulivelikethat | s

-  fucking min yoongi ex-girlfriend? a terrible idea. being hopelessly in love with her at the same time? an even worse idea. knowing he was being used and still doing it anyway? ah, Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing? part 2 of savage love.

desiderium by @jeonggukingdom | f s 

-  “we’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still so horny?”. a newlyweds!au smut.

chapstick by @softyoongiionly | f s

- based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on. or jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. 

lover boy by @jingukk | f 

-  jungkook likes you. a lot.

unexpected confession by @sunkissedjk | f

-  you gathered up the courage to confess your feelings, but it seems everyone in school knows about it before you could even find him.

string attached by @ephemeralkookie | s

-  jungkook is what we can call your sexfriend. No strings attached, just you and him having fun and releasing the huge pressure and stress of being idols. But after spending an entire day together, you realize that maybe he’s not just your sexfriend.

no title by @himbojk | f s 

- dilf jk.

astro

eunwoo

ceo!eunwoo by @m0onbean

no title by @yutopiada | f

- a cute idol!reader and eunwoo moment at a music show.

disney by @bangchan-sonyeondan | f

- a cute date with eunwoo at disney. reader likes vintage things hence using a disposable camera.

baby, it’s cold outside by @fresh-outta-jams | f 

- a cute cold christmas fluff with eunwoo ft. the boys. reader went to the boys’ place for a sweater and cocoa gift exchange.

got7

yugyeom

cruel brothers by @imsarabum | f

-  jackson and jaebum have always acted as if they were your big, overprotective brothers. so when they both walk in on you and yugyeom in a very intimate position, things get a little tense!

txt

soobin

a special night by @gyuluster | f

-  an intimate insight on the first night of choi soobin’s wedding, consisting of kitchen floors, witches and an eternity of love.

boughs & branches by @jeogiyall | f 

-  decorating the tree with boyfriend! choi soobin from txt! fluffity fluff fluff with a lot of cute fluff thrown in and a dash of christmastime fluff. 

sleepy binnie by @immabiteyou | s

-  “i’ll let you do anything if you just touch me now. “ a sleepy soobin smut.

cake by @immabiteyou | s

- reading waiting for mc soobin with the guys. a cute fluffy smut moment.

kpop oc/s

seri by @ggukkiedae

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

[cinnaminsvga]

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.

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Spelling Bee (Brick/Blossom)

Happy birthday to @genovah​! She is always inspiring me to come up with more PPG content, a true hero. I’m back with another entry in the ongoing Shooketh, Not Stirred high school AU Reds series for your entertainment. As always, this can be read alone, but it happens in the same universe as part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5. This is also posted on my AO3.

Summary: Brick and Blossom hunker down in the library to study for the upcoming regional spelling bee.

***Reblogs are extremely appreciated, since this probably won’t show up in the tags due to cursing. Thank you! <3

xxx

In fairness, Brick had come to the library during his free period with the pure intention to learn. And he was certainly learning something. But somewhere between sliding into his seat opposite Blossom and watching her lips move around insouciant as if it were a strawberry slathered in ganache, his purity was torn from his weak, teenage boy fingers and there was absolutely no going back. 

“Brick, are you listening to me?” She touched his hand across the table. 

“Yup.”

“Did you need me to repeat the word?”

“Yup.”

“In-SOO-see-uhnt.” She sounded it out slowly, and hand to god, that dominating SOO went straight to his cock.

This, of course, was fine. 

“Origin?” he asked. 

She twirled her hair around her finger and puckered her lips. “French.”

Fuck.

“I…”

Blossom mistook his increasingly horny stupor for plain old stupor and sighed. “Are you even trying? Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were completely fine with Darla Dimpleton going to regionals instead of one of us.”

“I am not fine with that.”

Darla Dimpleton was an unassuming, unthreatening nobody with the personality of plain oatmeal. Brick would never have even bothered to learn her name had she not committed the cardinal sin of scoring so much extra credit while everyone else was busy having lives that she stole the number one GPA right from under him. Which meant she stole it from under Blossom too. Which meant Brick was no longer a respectable silver medal to Blossom’s gold, but currently ranked third and therefor merely happy to be on the podium at all (and for the record, no one has ever been happy merely to be on the podium, just like no one has ever been happy winning Most Improved: you sucked, and now you suck a little less. Except this time, you actually suck more because Darla fucking Dimpleton decided to Quaker Oats her way to the top of this rat race that doesn’t actually matter, but it’s the principle of the thing, i.e., the only thing that matters.). 

All of this to say, Darla Dimpleton was the Worst™ and she was one hundred percent going down. 

“Are you sure? Because you’re being awfully cavalier about this. Some might even call you insouciant.”

It was a testament to Brick’s powerful fondness for winning and being seen doing it that he spelled insouciant in one Darla Dimpleton-shaped cock blocking breath.

Blossom smiled like she knew something. “Much better.”  

Yeah, she knows a lot of things.

The problem with dating, Brick was convinced, was that suddenly the mundane became extraordinary. Everyday experiences that he had previously taken for granted—flying around Townsville, enjoying a cup of coffee, thwarting his sometimes murderous demonic overlord from distributing incriminating polaroids, that sort of thing—were suddenly exciting, thrilling even. Because now he got to do those things with Blossom, and Blossom was cool in a smarmy, elitist sort of way that both softened his heart and hardened his dick all at the same time, and that was kind of A Lot to deal with at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday.

“All right, do me,” Blossom said, and Brick coughed so badly his aforementioned weak, teenage boy fingers shook to stifle himself. 

Mercy, he thought, probably. But all his blood was rushing south and it was going to take a supernatural willpower to get through these words so that one of them could beat the upstart porridge peasant to this year’s regional spelling bee. 

“You’re the boss,” he said, because it was true, and also because he liked the way she looked at him when he said it. Like he was now the ganache-coated strawberry in this overextended metaphor that he was too laden with Homeric concupiscence being in her general proximity to unpack. 

Concupiscence, there’s a ten dollar word for you, you horny genius. 

He made a mental note to brag to Blossom about this later. 

“Okay, let’s see…” Brick made a show of organizing the flashcards so that she wouldn’t see him discreetly re-situate his pants under the table. “Your word is cymotrichous.”

Blossom tapped her lips, and Brick found himself sympathizing with the Puritans in their absolute befuddlement over the libidinous effect of women having lips. Witchcraft, surely. “Could you use it in a sentence for me?”

Compelled entirely by black magic and therefor not responsible for his imminently questionable choices, Brick obliged her with: “Thinking about how I’d rather run my fingers through your cymotrichous hair for the rest of free period instead of sit here spelling words no one’s ever heard of.”

Blossom, who he was dead certain was extremely thirsty for him and had been for years long before they ever reconciled their rivalry, leaned over the desk separating them. Her hair, long and loose and indeed quite wavy today, was tempting. “Brick, are you flirting with me?”

It was a well-known fact of being a Weak-Fingered, Teenage Boy that one must never reveal such weakness, especially not in front of one’s girlfriend. On the other hand, co-opting said weakness and rebranding it as the suave truth was galaxy brain levels of flirting. And Brick, as has already been established, was a horny genius. “Yup.” He leaned in to meet her, and he twirled her hair between his fingers because they were weak for her, indeed. “How am I doing?”

Blossom, too determined to let her thirst deter her from her goal of sweet, academic retribution and bragging rights, tapped a finger to his lips. “Great. But we have so many words to spell, and only thirty minutes left to do them all. So get shuffling, stud.”

Well, he could work with that. One thing that made his relationship with Blossom work very well was their insatiable competitiveness. Whether they were whaling on each other over an empty parking lot, debating the efficacy of post-its as a note-taking device, or combining their powers to Captain Planet a cornmeal know-it-all back down the leaderboard where she belonged, they were relentless glory chasers. And the greater the challenge, the more they enjoyed the experience and each other. 

Blossom spelled her word perfectly, by the way. She stretched out the o-u-s at the end in a bewitching little whisper as she pulled away and her hair slipped through his fingers. That moment when the light changes and the temperature shifts and you’re weightless in a state of existential anticipation of something monumental about to happen, but not quite? That happened. Thirty minutes to explore the shape of that anticipation was enough time to taste it but not enough to savor it. Which, Brick supposed, was about to make this the best thirty minutes he was likely going to get all week. 

“Are you ready?” Blossom watched him from behind the card she’d drawn. She had a glint in her eyes that told him she was smiling behind that card. 

“Anytime.”

“Your word is eudaemonic.”

That fucking gorgeous ooh again.

“Define it.”

Blossom flushed as though he had just ordered her to bend over. She bit her lip (it must have been a ten Hail Mary’s kind of day when the Witch-Finder General caught a flesh and blood woman doing that with her improbably sorcerous lips) and grinned. “It means producing happiness. Based on the idea of happiness as the proper end of conduct.”

Producing happiness, which is proper, much like how Blossom came off as proper and even prim around adults, when really she was the most fun, most confident, most person he’d ever met, especially when she was spelling in that chiffon top (son of a bitch, that was a great top on her), and the only conduct he was interested in was of the happiest kind.

“Oh.” His throat clenched, and then his stomach twisted, and then his pants grew little too tight again in a full-body chain reaction that began and ended with a fierce determination not to give in first even though it would mean release because release would be meaningless without this etymological tête-à-tête. 

Don’t think about tête-à-têtes. 

Seventeenth century, noun, borrowed from the French meaning literally “head to head” (please, please stop hurting yourself like this).

“Brick?”

Brick cleared his throat. “Yup. Got it. E-u-d…”

Crisis averted, Brick picked the next card and promptly choked on his own tongue. Blossom made a show like she was concerned and are you all right? and please drink some water. Brick drank her water, which of course she had had her anatomically heretical lips on earlier, which was just fantastic for him. Tuesday fucking morning. 

Milieu was her word. 

“Milieu, hmm.” Blossom’s smile was spellbinding, which was a pun because he punned when he panicked. “Origin?”

You bitch, he thought, and be cool, and also, witchcraft.

Brick leaned back in his chair, slipped his trembling hands in his pockets, and squeezed every ounce of anything you can do I can do better into a winsome grin. “French.”

Blossom’s adult-facing façade cracked like an egg, and he got a glimpse of the raw delight she felt for this game, for the words, and for him for making it happen. For cultivating the electric milieu, if you will, currently driving them both into a state of impassioned, competitive euphoria at 9:42 a.m. in the library. 

“Right, um…” She stumbled over her words, and Brick had to restrain himself from crowing for joy and risk the rheumy-eyed librarian coming to scold them. 

By the time they got through another set of words, they were each visibly frustrated and doubly turned on by the other’s masochistic resolve not to throw in the towel. 

“Okay, ready for another round?” 

She wasn’t even trying to hide her intentions now, and that was just fine with Brick. “Of course.”

One more.

If it was another French word, he was fucking done. 

“Really?” Blossom truly had ice in her veins for the way she was able to school her face then. He couldn’t read her, and that was very bad. 

If it’s another fucking French word…

He could be over the desk and on her faster than you could say concupiscence. 

“Okay.” Blossom set down the flashcard she’d drawn and folded her hands on the table. She looked him dead in the eye licked her lips. “Succedaneum.”

The bookshelf shook but Brick’s fingers didn’t as they pinned Blossom’s over a Dewey Decimal-stamped spine and he kissed her with all the horny passion of a teenage genius who would make a note to thank the devil for giving women lips. One of his better ideas. 

xxx

“Hey, has anyone seen Blossom? I’ve sent her, like, four texts!” Bubbles shoved her phone, open to the ignored texts in question, in her sister’s face. “She was supposed to help me with Chem homework.”

Buttercup ducked. “No, and watch where you’re swinging that thing.”

“I saw her earlier,” Boomer said. “She was with Brick coming out of first period.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mike slung his arm around Boomer’s shoulders. “Don’t they both have a free period right now?”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “What a scam. Whoever decided to give the A-students free periods while the rest of us mere mortals gotta slave away is a straight-up Supervillain.”

Boomer snapped his fingers. “Hey, I just remembered! They both decided to compete for the spot at the regional spelling bee this year. I bet that’s what they’re doing.”

“God, that’s the saddest thing I have ever heard in my life. That’s a new low even for Blossom.”

“I heard there’s a cash prize for the regional winner,” Bubbles said. “It’s like twenty thousand bucks! Remember, everyone in school signed up and we had to have that assembly to narrow it down?”

“Twenty thou— How the tits did I miss that?!”

“I mean, it was all over the school,” Mike said. “We signed up too.”

“What? And no one thought to tell me I could’ve won the lottery?”

Boomer chuckled. “Dude, come on. You wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell against Darla Dimpleton.”

“Who?”

Bubbles cast Boomer a not worth it look, and he just sighed. “So, if they’re studying for the spelling bee, do you think they’re in the library?”

At that moment, Butch came bursting down the hall a little too fast to be human. Open lockers rattled on their hinges as he passed, and a Sophomore girl’s binder went flying, scattering looseleaf papers everywhere. Buttercup looked ready to punch him in the dick for breaking the no powers in school rule. “Guys, you’re gonna shit!” 

“Calm down before you blow a load, Jesus Christ.” Buttercup yanked him back down to the floor so he wouldn’t spontaneously float. 

Sensibly, Boomer asked, “Why?”

“‘Cause Brick and Blossom are making out in the library right now!”

Mike cringed. “Oh, come on.”

“The hell they are,” Buttercup said. 

Bubbles smiled. “Good for them.”

“I’m serious! There were books everywhere, and the noise—”

“Oh look, there goes my dignity. Better catch it before it gets away. C’mon, moron.” Buttercup dragged Butch down the hall over his protests. “What were you even doing in the library? I didn’t think you knew where it was…”

“Like that could ever happen,” Mike said. “Those two wouldn’t waste a minute of study time if it means beating out the competition.”

Boomer did not look so convinced. “I don’t know. I mean, they’re officially, for real dating now,”—“Finally!” Mike interjected—“so it’s not that unbelievable.”

The bell for the next period rang. Bubbles groaned thinking of stewing for an hour of Chem. At least she shared that class with Boomer and would not have to suffer alone. They parted from Mike and walked together through the throng of students rushing to get to their next period.

“Hey, do you think…” 

“I mean…” Boomer shrugged. 

They rounded the corner and nearly ran into Blossom dashing to her next class with a rushed “Got your texts talk later bye!” before she disappeared into the crowd. 

Bubbles whirled on Boomer. “Did you see her buttons—”

“Completely uneven—”

The late bell rang and made them jump. Among the last stragglers, they both dashed a bit too fast to get to class and made it to their seats just as Mr. Micelli finished writing a problem on the board. 

Boomer winked when she caught his eye a couple desks away from hers, and it took everything she had not to laugh.

“Good for her,” Bubbles said to herself. 

“You are late,” Mr. Micelli said. 

Everyone turned to watch Brick sink into his seat, his short hair totally askew and looking healthily flushed for a Tuesday morning. 

Boomer burst out laughing and needed a whole minute to calm down. 

He’d tell her later that the detention was worth it.

xxx

Witchcraft! 👁️👄👁️✨

[imaginethathaikyuu]

even apart

oikawa tooru x reader 

tags: so much fluff its gross, established relationship, slight angst to comfort, a lot of i love yous, lots of tears, a little surprise at the end :D, slightly inspired by lover by miss taylor swift fem reader

hope u like !

word count: 1578

-

You’d been preparing yourself for this night for the better half of the year. 

It’s never something you talked about with your boyfriend, though. Any time he brought it up, you didn’t dare converse about the difficult topic for too long. It was hard. It was scary. It would be a big change. And you didn’t want to think about it until you absolutely had to, but all that pushing away had finally caught up to you. 

And right now, sitting on your balcony alone, it was all you could think about. You had left all of these feelings for right now, and you were absolutely regretting it. 

Tomorrow, your boyfriend of four years would be moving to another country. Oikawa would be living in the place of his dreams, Argentina, and he’d be playing volleyball for a team he had grown to love, and he’d be leaving you behind.  

For the first time in four years, you’d be without him. 

His familiar, soft voice interrupted your thoughts. “I can hear your thoughts from all the way inside.” 

You opened your eyes to see him walking through the sliding glass door, on his way to sit next to you on the bench. 

“Sorry, I was, uh… telling Iwa bye,” he mumbled. 

When he sat down, you could see his eyes were red, despite how dark it was outside. The light from inside lit his face well enough to see. 

“How did that go?” 

He shook his head. “It went.” 

You knew he didn’t want to talk about having to leave Iwaizumi - the same way you didn’t want to talk about him leaving you - so you didn’t press on. You had to remember this was hard for him and everyone else, too - not just for you. 

“Can’t I just go with you?” you asked. “I just want to be where you are.” 

You heard him release a deep breath as he said, “I wanna be where you are, too.” 

And you couldn’t muster a response, so you didn’t even try. Instead, you sat up and grabbed his hand, which was much larger and worn than yours. You got a good look at it, because you knew this would be your last chance for a while. 

He squeezed your hand tight. “I won’t be that gone long.” 

“It’ll feel like forever,” you said, knowing you were being over dramatic. 

Tooru gave you a sad smile. “It’ll go by quick… and I’ll be thinking about you the whole time I’m gone. Will still be playing for you even if you won’t be at every game.” 

You nodded and wiped your tears. Tooru giggled, “you’re a mess, babe.” 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re my mess,” he replied. “Long distance will be a piece of cake.” 

You rolled your eyes but played along, “yeah, for sure.” 

“I’ll be home for Christmas, and for your birthday, and every other holiday. And you’ll come to so many of my games - you get to brag about dating a pro athlete, now, isn’t that worth the time apart?” 

You laughed, and thought about it. What he said was a joke, but it was true - getting to brag that your Oikawa Tooru was finally the athlete he’d always wanted to be made all of this worthwhile. 

“That does make it worth it,” you replied, and he draped an arm over your shoulder to pull you against him. “As long as you don’t find anyone else. I’m sure you’ll have a fan club after the first week.” 

You were kidding, and Tooru laughed, low and breathy, but there was an edge to the joke that cut through the chill in the air. It was the lump in your throat and the insecurity in your tone and the shaking of your hands giving away the fear you’d been holding onto, and Tooru caught it. 

“There could never be anyone else.” 

He wasn’t sure if you knew that he was scared, too. He was telling you the truth he’d known for years, and there was nothing scarier than that fact. 

You were his only one. 

There would never be anyone else, even if you found a better match than him - he would never love anyone, or anything, the way he loves you. 

And he knows you love him, which quells the fear. You’re the most stable part of his life, really, and there’s nothing he can’t do if he’s got you on his side. He’s always known that. And he tries his best to give you the same support; to hold you up when you need him to and watch you shine in the blinding way you do. He’s going to do that even when he’s living in another country, even when it gets hard, even when neither of you are shining at all. 

“You don’t even know how much I love you,” he said, and it was hard to be so honest, to say something so sickeningly sweet, but the smile his words put on your face made it worth it. 

There was a choice Oikawa had to make, right there on that balcony at half past midnight, a choice he’d been facing since he caught you scrolling through pictures of dresses and rings on Pinterest - was this it? Was this the moment he’d been looking for? 

It wasn’t, he thought, until you looked up at him and caught him in a shaky kiss and mumbled an, “I love you,” against trembling lips. It wasn’t, because he had a flight to catch in just a few hours, and he had suitcases lining the foyer, and he’d be gone before you could even celebrate. It wasn’t the right time, it wasn’t the right place, it wasn’t perfect enough for you and everything he’d dreamed of giving you - it wasn’t, but he was pulling that ring out of the safety of his pocket, anyway, and every perfect line was slipping his mind, and he wasn’t even convinced you’d say yes, but he was moving on impulse. 

“You’re the only one,” he said, and his entire body was shaking, “I want you to be the only one forever.” 

“I will be,” you replied. And then you looked down, and you saw the ring he held between two fingers, shaking like a leaf, in danger of dropping the damn thing, and he actually laughed as you sat there frozen. 

“I wanna be yours forever,” he said. “Will - will you marry me? Do you think you can stand to have me around for that long?” 

“Tooru,” and you were shocked, crying more than you were minutes before, and you stood up and looked down at him with wide eyes. 

He’d made his choice, bit the bullet and let himself ask even though he should’ve waited. Popping the question in the middle of a sad night at your apartment was never his ideal - he always thought it’d be funny to make a show of it somewhere public - but there was something about doing this right before he left that he liked. Leaving you with this memory, giving you this dramatic evidence that he only wanted you, was the one thing he wanted to do before your lives changed. 

And now, he was waiting for you to make your choice and give him your answer. Maybe he should have been more afraid, more nervous, but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you would say - 

“Yes, Tooru, oh my god, I can’t believe this, oh my god, yes!”

You fell into his lap, arms around his neck with your knees on either side of his legs - and Tooru was rushed with relief, even though the biggest part of himself knew that your answer would be yes. 

“Iwa told me you’d do this,” you mumbled, laughing. 

“What?! I didn’t even tell him!” 

“I think he just knew,” and you pulled back from the tight hug to look at him, wiping your cheeks only to make room for more tears. 

“I didn’t even know I was going to do this,” he said. “I just - I happened to have the ring with me - I don’t know why -” 

“I love you - you could have done it sooner, you know - I love you so much.” 

“I love you,” he said, and he took your hand and slid the ring onto your finger, and he was in love with the sight of your pretty hand wearing such a lovely ring. “I want to get an engagement ring, too. It might be nice to have one since we’ll be apart for awhile. You should pick it out.” 

“That would be cute,” and your voice was thick with tears and your eyes were swimming in their sockets as you inspected the gift he’d given you. 

He wanted to tell you not to cry, but his own eyes were starting to well up, and there was no point in either of you hiding those emotions from each other. He didn’t need to be too embarrassed to cry in front of you, and he didn’t need to coddle you until your tears stopped. 

It was okay to cry, and it was okay to be happy and sad, and it was okay to show it. 

Because this was hard. And it probably wouldn’t get any easier. But it was worth it, you both knew that, and your love for each other wasn’t changing - that moment proved it. The ring he’d given you was a symbol for it. 

“We’ll still be together forever,” he told you, holding your face and pulling you in close, “even when we’re apart.”