#also: i made a second version just for fun i know their hair/eyes won’t actually look like that in the show!

[mystiicorn]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PERCY JACKSON!!! 💙💙💙 i draw percabeth every year for percy’s birthday/their anniversary so i thought it would be fun to draw their live action versions this year now that we’re getting the pjo tv series :)

[mercurygguk]

cockblocked. (m) | jjk

➵ summary; in which a pair of best friends are hopelessly in love with one another but they’re both too dumb to realize, even when everyone around them are dropping hints every five minutes. or alternatively; “you’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t love you back.”

pairing; jeongguk x f. reader

word count; 15.8k

rating; 18+

content; roommates au + friends (idiots) to lovers, smut/fluff/angst

warnings; mentions of alcohol, swearing, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, cum eating, oral sex (f. receiving), stupid jeongguk and stupid reader

a/n; i’ve been wanting to write a oneshot for so long with the ultimate boyfriend version of gguk, so i started writing with this gguk in mind. i hope you like it! ALSO, this is heavily unedited, so ignore any typos thx – enjoy!

find drabbles related to this fanfic through this tag !! 

Music is blaring through the speakers, shaking your body as you stand against the wall, watching people get shitfaced and stick their tongues down each other’s throats. There’s an untouched drink in your hand. It’s lukewarm by now and definitely tasting way worse than when it was made. You hate yourself for always saying yes to joining your friends at this type of scene. Quite simply, you hate every single thing about parties at frat houses. The music is shit, it’s nothing compared to your own favorite chill playlist filled with ballads and old classics. The alcohol smells and tastes like crap, and it doesn’t get you nearly as drunk as it should. To top it all off, your friends had left you alone for two random guys, so in conclusion, this night could’ve been better but it could’ve been much worse as well you suppose. It’s not like you’ve done anything stupid, so really, what’s the problem?

It’s not even that late when you decide to make your way upstairs. There must be a quieter place in this huge house where you can sit in silence until you deem it acceptable to leave again. But as you push your way past couples practically having sex on the staircase, you realize that all rooms are most likely taken. Maybe you should just leave now? You chuckle at your own situation. You haven’t even been here for two hours and you’re already planning on going home again. You shake your head to yourself as you continue your walk upstairs. It won’t hurt to see if you just happen to be lucky enough to find an empty room in this gigantic house.

The first room you come across seems quiet as you press your ear against the door’s surface. You take the chance and grab the handle before pushing yourself inside. You stop in your tracks when one of the two in there turns to look at you, the other one sitting with their head down a bucket. You grimace as you back out of the room, closing the door behind you. The smell of puke haunts you as you move on to the next door.

“Last room better be empty,” you whisper to yourself after checking almost every single room upstairs. You push yourself inside without a single warning to those who may be on the other side of the door. The scene in front of you doesn’t surprise you at all as you stay in the doorway. The pair stops their actions upon your presence.

“I swear that’s the seventh person to barge in here!” The girl, who was being grinded on by the dude on top of her, whines. The guy turns his head to look at you, a glare evident even though it’s mostly dark in the room. “And suddenly I’m not in the mood anymore,” the girl groans as she pushes Mr. Fuckboy off her, “see you around, Jeon.”

You watch with an amused smirk as the girl yanks her shirt off the ground, slipping it on and pushing past you out of the room, her shoulder bumping against yours. You chuckle to yourself, wondering why some girls just had to be like that. The guy you now know as ‘Jeon’ gets up from the bed, turning to face you fully. He’s not wearing a shirt which allows you to see the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. His pants are unzipped and his belt is unbuckled, and yet he doesn’t seem fazed at all. You cock a brow at him as he finally notices and reaches down to zip his pants and buckle his belt.

“Thanks for cockblocking me by the way,” ‘Jeon’ shoots at you, making you scoff and cross your arms over your chest.

“Well, it’s not entirely my fault,” you defend yourself, gesturing to the door beside you, “you could’ve just locked the door.”

He chuckles at your defensive tone as he grabs his sweatshirt off the floor. He slips it over his head, messing his black, curly hair up even more than it was before. That girl must’ve had a good grip on it for it to look like such a mess in this very moment.

“Why are you even in here?” Jeon asks, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. It tames it a bit, you think to yourself as you watch it fall back onto his forehead and slightly into his eyes. Not bothering to answer his question, you decide on stepping further into the room, making your way to the balcony that happened to be in this exact room. Jeon watches you as you open the doors and head outside into the chilly night air. He follows behind, joining you on the balcony. Why he does so wonders the both of you. He leans on the railing beside you, looking at the side of your face. “Party not fun enough?”

You chuckle. “Just not my typical scene,” you tell him, glancing at him.

The stranger, who goes by ‘Jeon’ so far, is still looking at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What is your typical scene then?”

This dude’s sudden interest in you doesn’t go unnoticed by you, so you decide to finally look at him fully instead of the drunk people on the front lawn below you.

“Somewhere quieter, somewhere you’re actually able to talk to people,” you explain to him, “and if there’s food, even better!”

This makes him laugh lightly, a glint in his eyes that makes your stomach tingle in a funny way. “A foodie then?”

You nod, a wide smile on your face. “Huge foodie.”

“What’s your name?” He asks, seeming genuinely interested in knowing it. “I’m Jeongguk.”

“___,” you tell him, “it’s nice to meet you, Jeongguk.”

He grins, a bunny smile appearing and you can’t help but think about how ridiculously cute he actually is. And yet still a fuckboy, without a doubt.

“Nice to meet you too, ___.”

You both watch the drunk people below in silence. You wonder what he’s thinking about. Does he think the same about these people as you or is he usually one of them? Maybe he’s one of those people who attends every single frat party. But he doesn’t seem to be very drunk at the moment. You’re about to ask him when he turns to look at you, eyes slightly wide with a glint in them as if he just thought of something brilliant.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” He suddenly asks. You squint your eyes at him, wondering what place he possibly could be thinking about. “I know this great place that has really good frozen yoghurt.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “you want frozen yoghurt at almost 1 am?”

He nods, a boyish smile on his face. “Yeah, why not? This party sucks aaaand you totally cockblocked me, so I see no reason to stay here anymore.”

Rolling your eyes, you chuckle at his attempt to make you feel guilty once again. “I stand my ground,”  you snicker, “you could’ve just locked the door, dumbass.”

Jeongguk shrugs it off, a tiny smirk appearing on his lips. “So, is that a yes?”

You purse your lips, pretending to think about his question when in reality you had made up your mind the second he mentioned frozen yoghurt. Food is never questioned, you always say yes when your friends ask, and now also when Jeongguk asks. You nod, smiling widely.

“Yeah, frozen yoghurt sounds really good, actually.”

Jeongguk grins, grabs your hand before pulling you back inside and out of the room. A mild tingle erupts in your stomach as you look down at how tightly his hand is gripping yours. You shake the thoughts from your head as you follow behind, letting him guide you downstairs to where the party is still ongoing. He pushes his way through the crowd of people, glancing back at you once in a while to make sure you’re still with him. Were you really just about to leave this party, leave your friends behind to get frozen yoghurt with a complete stranger? Guess so. Were you starting to regret saying yes? Surprisingly, no.

As you ride with the bus to the downtown part of the city, you learn a few things about Jeongguk. He tells you that he’s majoring in photography and that his camera is his most prized possession, he tells you about how he’s a huge gym rat and that he’s basically living his life at the gym when he isn’t studying or running around with his camera. You learn that Jeongguk loves food more than anything and that he’s quite a chef himself (but you also learn that he isn’t one to brag, so you basically had to force it out of him). He also tried to assure you that he wasn’t a fuckboy, which you had claimed him to be when you interrupted him in that bedroom. You only laugh it off, patting him on the shoulder as if to tell him it’s okay, that you don’t judge him for whatever sex life he’s living.

You find yourself enjoying his company more than you had expected to, laughing more than you ever would’ve at the frat party. Even at some point throughout the bus ride, your one leg had somehow managed to rest over his thigh, his hand on it as if it’s the most normal position for the two of you. And there’s not a single moment of awkward silence during the entire trip to that frozen yoghurt place which Jeongguk had been gushing about since you got on the bus.

“Why is this place even open so late?” You ask as Jeongguk holds the door open for you. You walk inside the shop, him following right behind. Before Jeongguk can answer your question, you gasp loudly as you take in the size of the place Jeongguk brought you to. He chuckles from beside you, grabbing your hand once again to pull you to the yoghurt machines. Your mouth is agape in amazement as you grab a cup, starting to mix different flavours. “Jeongguk, there’s too many flavours! How am I supposed to make one without having to pay a shit ton of money?”

Jeongguk laughs, eyes scrunching together and pearly white teeth showing. “I guess that means we have to visit again soon?” He says, more like a question than a statement.

You nod excitingly, making him laugh once again.

Jeongguk ends up paying for yours even after you fight him on it, but he didn’t take no for an answer and left you to watch as he paid for both cups of yoghurt, yours ending up more expensive than you had intended.

“Thanks, that was really kind of you,” you softly tell him as he hands you your cup, playfully glaring at him as he does so. “It’s on me next time.”

He shrugs it off, smiling softly. “Don’t worry about it, ___.”

You seat yourselves inside a booth, eating your frozen yoghurt in comfortable silence. Jeongguk finishes it rather quickly causing you to widen your eyes at his empty cup. You’re about to tell him he’ll end up with a brain freeze but the said brain freeze beats you to it. You watch as Jeongguk brings a hand to his forehead, groaning in agony.

“Fuck,” he swears, “wasn’t thinking about this when I shoved that down.”

You laugh, grimacing yourself as he grimaces in pain. After a while, it stops and Jeongguk rubs his forehead with a sigh.

“You good?” You ask as you try to stifle another laugh. He nods, glaring at you and then the empty cup in front of him. Pushing it to the side, you chuckle. “It’s not the yoghurt’s fault, Jeongguk.”

He sighs deeply as he leans back in his seat, watching you as you finish yours. You glance at him occasionally, offering him a small smile once in a while as well. His eyes are captivating in a way, dark brown irises and long lashes. You can’t hold his stare for long without feeling like he’s seeing right through you and reading everything there’s going on inside your head. A tiny crush is starting to develop at the bottom of your stomach, but you try to ignore it, not wanting to go in that direction right now.

“You never told me about yourself,” he then says, catching your attention once again as he leans over the table. You look at him, confused. “It was just me talking about myself on the way here and we never got to talk about you.”

“Oh!” You exclaim, “well, there isn’t much to tell.”

Jeongguk scoffs with a chuckle. “Come on, there has to be something.”

You think for a bit, trying to think about what you can tell him that could possibly be interesting for Jeongguk to hear about. “But what do you wanna know?” You ask him, smiling.

“Mhm,” he hums, “well, first of all, what’s your major?”

“English,” you answer.

He nods at that. “Favorite color?”

“Yellow.”

“Favorite animal?”

Without thinking, you smile and answer: “Bunnies.” 

You swear you see Jeongguk’s cheeks redden as the word leaves your mouth. You smile to yourself, resting your chin in your palm as you watch him, his cheeks flushed. He rubs his chin, searching for another question. 

“Ah! Celebrity crush?”

“Gong Yoo,” you sigh, dreamy gaze with what you’d call a real-life ‘heart eyes’ emoji expression on your face. Across from you, Jeongguk is pretending to gag. You swat at him, giggling lightly. “Shut up! You’re just jealous.”

“Never,” he retorted quickly, making you smirk slightly. “Okay, last question.”

You wait, anticipating something but not sure what exactly.

“Can I have your number?”

There’s nothing to do to stop the blush that colors your cheeks as you nod, smiling at him for being so damn smooth. He hands you his phone with a small smile, you type his phone number in and hand him his phone back. Jeongguk laughs as he notices how you put your name in his phone; ‘cockblocker <3′

“I’m glad we did this,” he suddenly says, his expression a serious but soft one. You nod in agreement.

“Me too,” you tell him, meaning it. This night turned out way better than you had expected, and it was all because you happened to cockblock Jeon Jeongguk.

You run around your dorm room with a towel wrapped around your body, wet hair all over the place as you try to figure out where you left your phone. Your phone is currently ringing and you know without a doubt who it is, but you can’t answer him because you might have lost it in the pile of clothes on your bed and floor.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you hiss to yourself repeatedly as you rummage through the clothes, the ringing of your phone becoming more persistent if that’s even possible. Then it stops ringing before you have the chance to locate it. You continue to look as you sigh, knowing it will most likely ring again in a few seconds. But it doesn’t. Instead there’s a knock on your door. You glance down at your body. 

“Great, still naked,” you groan to yourself and move to the door, opening it and revealing your curly-haired best friend (who may you mention looks exceptionally good in his ripped blue jeans, black hoodie and white sneakers). He marches into your room before you even get to greet him. You close the door after him before turning to look at him. You grip the towel tightly, terrified it will fall if you let go. And cause a very awkward situation for you and Jeongguk.

“What’s taking you so long? We have to-” Jeongguk stops as he turns to face you, just now realising you’re only wrapped in a towel and not fully dressed at all. “Oh.”

Your lips turn into a straight line, nodding. “Yep.”

His cheeks turn a slight red color as he quickly turns back around, his back to you. “Sorry,” he then says. You laugh at his embarrassment, clearly not as fazed about this as him. And he’s supposed to be the girl magnet, you think to yourself.

“Calm down, Gguk. I decided to let you in even though I’m basically naked, so really, don’t worry about it.”

He glances at you over his shoulder, not even slightly discreet about the way he looks you up and down. You feel your cheeks slightly heat up, noticing the way his eyes linger on your hand which is still clutching the towel tightly. It has been almost 9 months since you met Jeongguk at the frat party and there has been a slight tension of something you can’t quite decipher ever since. There have been more than several moments like these where Jeongguk is staring at you a bit too long or his touch lingers on you for a while longer than they probably were supposed to. You always shrug it off, not thinking too much of it because it’s probably all in your head anyway.

Jeongguk sits himself down on your bed, gesturing to the bathroom. “Well, get dressed already. Jimin’s performance is in like 30 minutes.”

“Right!” You shriek, now remembering what the purpose of your shower was. 

Jimin is Jeongguk’s best friend from high school and is a year ahead of you and Jeongguk at the same college. Jimin is a dance major, doing all kinds of dances varying from hiphop to contemporary and so on. He’s truly talented and even more of a sweetheart. You met him one night a few months back when you joined Jeongguk and his group of friends at a karaoke bar. You hit it off with Jimin in particular that night, and your friendship has only been getting better ever since.

Jeongguk watches with a lopsided smile as you scurry back to the bathroom to dry your hair. You haven’t even decided on an outfit yet. “What do I even wear?”

On your bed, Jeongguk is looking through your clothes. He holds up a red skirt without thinking, just simply liking the color of it.. “What about this?” He calls out to you, having no idea at all what you could possibly wear to go see a dance performance. You open the bathroom door slightly to look at him and the piece of clothing in his hand.

“A flaming red miniskirt?” You question, raising a single eyebrow at him. He catches your tone and drops it to the floor, looking for something else.

He tries again as he holds up a pair of light denim jeans with a cute, hesitating smile on his face. “Jeans?”

You grin, nodding, “much better.”

The place is crowded once you and Jeongguk arrive at the theatre where Jimin is going to perform. You look around, trying to see if you can spot Jimin. You want to wish him good luck before he gets on stage. Just as you locate him, he looks up and locks eyes with you. You wave excitingly, grabbing Jeongguk’s arm and pulling him towards his own best friend. Jeongguk lets you drag him along with a small smile on his lips.

“Hey, you guys made it!” Jimin beamed, hugging you tightly. You smile as Jimin gives you a light squeeze before pulling away.

Jeongguk grins at his best friend. “We wouldn’t miss it, hyung.”

Jimin pats Jeongguk on the shoulder in an appreciative manner. “Well, take a seat. The show is starting in 15 minutes or so,” he gestures to the seats, “I have to get backstage before the stylists have my ass for not being ready on time.”

You chuckle, not surprised that Jimin is one to always struggle with being on time. It has happened once or twice before.

“Good luck!” You make sure to tell him. Beside you, Jeongguk offers his hyung an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Jimin gives your hand a squeeze before heading off to backstage. You both watch him run off, the stylist already smacking his arm as she tells him to sit down. You glance at Jeongguk who’s already laughing because of his best friend. “Where do you wanna sit?” You ask him.

He shrugs, “you decide, I’m happy anywhere.” You nod and purse your lips, looking over the theatre.

“Let’s just sit here,” you point to the seats right beside you. Jeongguk agrees, his hand coming up to rest against the small of your back as to tell you to sit first. Your skin tingles underneath your shirt at his touch, his hand strong but soft on you and lingering a tad bit longer than necessary. You sit down, Jeongguk plopping down beside you. His hand is resting on the armrest between the two of you and it takes all in you to not let your own rest on top of his.

To say your crush on Jeongguk had become less and less the past 9 months would be a total lie. If anything, it has only become worse and yet you can’t get yourself to tell him because you’re sure he doesn’t feel the same way. He’s still the ‘Jeon’ you met at the party almost a year ago, his fuckboy tendencies coming through once in a while and you’ve seen girls leave his room in the morning when you’d arrive at his place to hang out. And it hurt slightly every single time but you’ve never considered telling him why it hurts. He doesn’t even know it hurts you. But then again, here he is on a Saturday night, spending his evening with you to watch Jimin’s dance performance when in reality, he has seen Jimin perform multiple times. More times than he can count and it’s nothing new to him. He could be balls deep in some random girl right now and yet he’s here. With you. And his leg is brushing against yours, his shoulder is also touching you. It would be so easy to just tangle your fingers through his but your insecurities and doubt stop you from doing anymore. You sigh deeply, leaning back in your seat.

Jeongguk notices the heavy sigh you let out, looking at you with slight worry in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

You nod, offering him a soft smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired,” you answer him, a small yawn escaping your lips. It was partly true. You can tell he doesn’t quite believe you but decides against it, not wanting to push you into telling him.

Jimin’s performance starts right then. The lights dimmed down as he appears on stage along with a group of other people, his dance team that consists of other guys. Some of them are also Jeongguk’s friends; Taehyung and Hoseok. You watch with wide, exciting eyes, feeling very proud of Jimin for finally doing this performance when you know how much he has been working on it and how time consuming it has been for him. What you don’t notice throughout the entire performance is that Jeongguk is occasionally watching you instead of the performance, his heart beating just a tad bit faster whenever you almost catch him.

When Jimin finishes and bows to the crowd, you stand up for an applause, smiling widely as he thanks everyone by bowing one more time and then heading off stage.

Jeongguk taps your shoulder, motioning his head as if to tell you to leave. “Let’s go find him,” he says over the music that’s still playing. You nod, grabbing your things and following right behind. You squeal, happy and excited as you spot Jimin by the stage. He turns around just as you reach him, engulfing him in a tight hug. Jeongguk stands by behind you, watching you hug the living shit out of his best friend. It doesn’t feel right, he thinks to himself.

“You were amazing!” You cheered, squeezing him tightly as he did to you earlier. He laughs at your gushing excitement as you pull apart, thanking you and flashing you that charming smile of his.

Jimin glances at Jeongguk, smiling lips falling into a straight line. You don’t notice but Jeongguk is glaring at Jimin and Jimin knows exactly why. He scratches the back of his head, glancing back at his team before looking back at you and Jeongguk.

“We, um, we’re headed to a bar downtown. You guys wanna join?”

You look at Jeongguk briefly before smiling at Jimin, nodding, “sure.”

“Great! We’re leaving in a few, I just need to pack up my stuff,” Jimin grins and heads over to his team. You spot two people that you know — Hoseok and Taehyung. Taehyung caught your eye a lot during the performance, his mop of curly black hair stood out a lot and the way he was so into the performance and the mood of the songs. Truly mesmerising. 

Jeongguk clears his throat beside you, letting you know that he’s still right beside you. Your cheeks heat up at the possible chance of being caught ogling a bit too long at Taehyung. 

“Let’s go,” you pipe up, leaving Jeongguk’s side to go find Jimin again. The tension that’s starting to form is too intense for you right now. You feel Jeongguk’s eyes on you as you walk away and up to Jimin. Jeongguk’s heart drops a little when he can tell that you decide to walk with Jimin all the way to the bar downtown. He doesn’t get to stand there and grumble too long because Hoseok and Taehyung are quick to pull him along, dragging him in the same direction you and Jimin left in.

Your laughter sounds like a sweet melody to Jeongguk as he watches you from his seat at the bar, laughing at something Taehyung says to you. You’ve been sitting beside Taehyung for the past two hours, laughing and having a good time which is great but Jeongguk doesn’t like how close to you Taehyung is sitting and he certainly doesn’t like the way you have to touch Taehyung’s arm every time you laugh at something he says. Jeongguk takes a swig of his beer as Jimin plops down on the seat beside him. Jimin follows his line of sight, sighing deeply once he realizes what has caused him to become so quiet. 

“Dude, you’re gonna burn holes in their skulls if you keep staring like that,” Jimin calls out, snapping Jeongguk out of his own thoughts.

Jeongguk sighs, taking his eyes off you and Taehyung. “Yeah,” he trails off.

Eyeing him carefully, Jimin places a hand on his shoulder. “If it’s that bad, why don’t you just go talk to her?” He suggests, the tone sounding hesitant.

Jeongguk glances at Jimin. “You know I can’t do that,” he grumbles, turning his back to you and Taehyung, facing the bar instead. 

Jimin nods as he remembers why. “Sure, but can you explain it to me again? I still don’t see the point.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair only for it to fall back into his eyes. He really needed a haircut soon, he thinks to himself.

“I can’t tell her how I feel because that’d ruin our friendship and I’d rather have her be my friend than nothing at all,” he explains to Jimin as if it’s obvious. And it was true. Jeongguk’s straight up terrified that you’ll find out how he really feels about you and then proceed to end your friendship. It’s a risk he isn’t willing to take, maybe someday but just not yet.

Jimin hums to himself. “What if she feels the same then?” Jeongguk stays silent. “Ever thought about that possibility?”

Shaking his head, he sighs, almost sounding like he has given up on you already. “Listen, I just know that she doesn’t. She wouldn’t be over there with Tae right now if that was the case- Ow! What the hell was that for?”

He rubs the back of his head, pouting lightly at his best friend. Jimin shakes his head. “You’re dumber than I thought,” he concludes before getting up from his seat and heading back to the table where the rest of his dance team is sitting. 

Jeongguk slumps in his seat, dropping his head into his hand. Jimin is right; he really is dumb. But as he glances back at you and sees the wide smile on your face, the same smile he can get out of you with his stupid jokes and goofy faces, he just knows that he wouldn’t be able to live without you even if it meant he got to tell you how he really feels. Jeongguk turns his back to the scene that is you and Taehyung again, finishing his bottle of beer before ordering a new one.

It isn’t even him who walks you home to your dorm that night. Taehyung gets the chance and swoops right in, offering to walk you home. You let him without hesitation and Jeongguk can only stand back, watching you walk off with Taehyung by your side. And it doesn’t go unnoticed, neither by him or Jimin, that you also forgot to hug your best friend goodnight. Jimin offers Jeongguk an apologetic smile, patting his shoulder and wishing him a good night before heading home with Hoseok, who’s also his roommate besides being his teammate.

Jeongguk is pretty sure everyone who passes by him on his way home can hear the sound of his heart breaking a bit more for every step he takes. But what does it matter? You don’t want this broken heart anyway.

“I’m thinking about moving out of the frat house.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and you choke on the coffee Jeongguk had just served you, coughing lightly and holding a “one second” hand up to Jeongguk who looks at you worried. Once your coughing dies down, you look at him, still surprised.

“You what?”

Jeongguk chuckles in his seat across from you. “I don’t feel like staying at the frat house anymore,” he shrugs, “I earn enough from working here to find my own place.”

Jeongguk’s little part time job at the campus café actually does pay him a good amount of money, but you wouldn’t expect anything else since he’s here more than he’s in class. The hours he dedicates to this place also gives him the right to chill in a booth with you during his shift because the owner of the shop gives him that much freedom. He has her hooked around his little finger and she doesn’t even know it. You smile at the thought, knowing very well that every single woman — old and young — would let Jungkook do whatever he wants after being flashed that charming smile of his. You guess that’s just the way his charms work.

“What’s on your mind?” Jeongguk asks, tapping your forehead to get you back to earth.

Your cheeks turn pink, “sorry.”

Jeongguk smiles at you, eyes glinting like they always do behind that long hair. “Actually, I already found a place I would like to rent, it’s not far from campus and it’s the perfect size even though it’s a 3-bedroom apartment,” he tells you. You smile, happy for him.

“That’s great, Gguk!” You beamed. “I’m happy for you.”

He did say 3-bedroom apartment though. Does that mean he’ll get himself a roommate? Your head fills with possible options for a roommate for him. Jimin could be a good one, but he already lives off campus with Hoseok. Taehyung lives by himself in a studio apartment, so that wasn’t an option either. He could ask that other guy he sometimes hangs out with, that one from his photography class and his frat house too. Namjoon, was it? You purse your lips, several faces showing up in your mind. Jeongguk clears his throat across from you, bringing you back once again.

“You’re zoning out a lot today,” he states, concern covering his face. You chuckle. 

“I was just thinking about who you could ask to be your roommate,” you tell him and Jeongguk opens his mouth to speak up but you continue, “most of your friends already live off campus but you could ask that Namjoon fella, he still lives in the frat house, right?”

Jeongguk nods.

“He seems like a nice guy,” you ponder, finger tapping your chin. “You could just find some stranger too, but that’s quite a risk, isn’t it? Personally, I would prefer someone I know already, but you do you.”

You hear him sigh in defeat as you ramble on. “Or what about-”

Jeongguk cuts you off. “I already know who I’m gonna ask,” he blurts.

“Oh.” You fall silent. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk says, “she’s rambling her ass off right now and she does that a lot to be honest, so I don’t know if I still wanna ask her.”

Your cheeks are burning as Jeongguk smirks at you, knowing very well that you’re aware he’s talking about you. Composing yourself, you sit upright in your seat. “Well, what if she doesn’t wanna move out of her dorm?”

Jeongguk chuckles sarcastically. “Oh, but she does,” he snickered, “with the amount of times she has complained about the shitty shower in her room, I’m convinced she’s just waiting for the opportunity to get out of there.” 

“Am not!” You defend yourself even though you know he’s right. 

Jeongguk laughs. “Shut up.”

You cross your arms over your chest, pretending to be offended but you can’t hold the act for long as you burst into laughter. “Okay, you’re right. I really do hate that shower.”

“Thought so,” Jeongguk smirks lightly. He stands from his seat, knowing he has to get back to work before the customers think he’s some lazy barista. He offers you another one of those charming smiles of his. “You’re my best friend, ___. I can’t imagine anyone else in that room other than you. So just think about it, yeah?”

You nod, smiling. You watch him walk off, heading for the cashier. He moves around the counter, patting the other cute barista boy (he’s a sophomore and he basically idolizes Jeongguk) on the shoulder as he passes by him and continues out to the back of the café. You turn back to your laptop and books, smiling to yourself as you take another sip of your coffee, made (with a tiny amount of love, but you don’t know that) by Jeongguk.

You don’t get too much time to yourself and your assignment before a certain dancer slips into the seat Jeongguk was in previously. You glance up at Jimin, who’s smiling slyly at you. You give him a confused but curious look, closing your laptop screen. “What?”

He nods his head in Jeongguk’s direction. “Did he ask you?”

“Asked me what?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about.”

You shrug. “He did,” you squint at him as he cheers, clapping his hands.

“Well,” he gushes, “did you say yes?” His excitement is bouncing off the walls as he leans over the table. You’re close to getting a whiplash from his quickly changing expression as you watch his face fall not even two seconds later. “Did you say no? Why?”

You shake your head, not able to keep up with him. “Calm down, will you? I didn’t even get to answer you.”

Jimin breathes out and slumps back in his seat. “Sorry,” he pouts but grins nevertheless, “I’m just excited.”

“You don’t say,” you mumble under your breath. “I didn’t give him an answer yet, he told me to think about it.”

Across from you, Jimin smiles at you - his smile hinting at something. You let out a small groan. “Jimin! I know what you’re thinking and no, I’m not gonna do it.”

“What?” Jimin exclaims, hands up in surrender. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

Now it’s your time to roll your eyes because yes, you do in fact know what he’s about to say. Jimin has been pestering you ever since he met you about the fact that you’re ‘pining’ after Jeongguk, your feelings on your sleeve and obvious to anyone around you, except for Jeongguk. The fact that you haven’t even told Jimin how you feel about Jeongguk just shows how well Jimin reads people and apparently you’re like an open book, especially to Jimin. Not to certain others.

“Have you ever thought about the possibility that he might like you too?” Jimin questions you, the same question he asked Jeongguk at the bar the other night. You nod your head at this, sighing deeply in exasperation.

“I have, Jimin, I really have,” you mumble, “but it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same way. I can just tell that I’m nothing but a good friend to him.”

Jimin might scream at the both of you very soon. How blind and stupid can people actually be?

“If you say so,” he backtracks. You lean back in your seat, pen coming up to lay between your teeth. You bite on it as you stare at nothing in particular, Jeongguk is filling up your brain like he lives there rent free. “Look, ___,” Jimin catches your attention again, “accept his offer, maybe you’ll be surprised.”

He gives you a friendly, comforting smile and a squeeze of your hand before he gets up. He waves at Jeongguk who stands behind the counter again before leaving the café. His words linger around you. “Maybe you’ll be surprised.” Jimin had said and you wonder why he would say that. You know Jeongguk quite well even after less than a year as friends; what could possibly surprise you at this point?

Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to live in the same place as Jeongguk. This thought has appeared in your head for the past hours since you left the café. Now you’re sitting here, in your bed with a Netflix show, which you’re not paying attention to, running through several episodes. Jeongguk’s proposition has been raking up your mind since he left you to yourself at the café. It’s like he knew you would have to think about it when he told you to do exactly that.

And as you sit here, thoughts running at full speed, you try to come up with pros and cons for living under the same roof as your bff #1. Pros are that you get a nice shower every time you have to bath, you will live off Jeongguk’s delicious gastronomic talent and you’ll have your best friend close to you at all times. Cons would be the possibility of getting tired of each other even though you already spend five out of seven days together during the week. Another con would be witnessing girls leave his room and your apartment in the morning after having heard her scream his name all night. That specific thought makes a weird, not-so-great feeling appear in your stomach, making you frown deeply. But you will have to realize sooner or later that Jeongguk won’t ever see you that way and that this crush of yours is a lost cause. Maybe it really is time to just get over it. You sigh deeply, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to send Jeongguk a text.

you [11:38 pm]: i’ll do it, but you gotta make me delicious food every day

You wait for his reply, staring at your screen. Heart hammers wildly as three dots appear on the screen. Your breath hitches in your throat as you read his reply.

gguk [11:40 pm]: anything for you princess ;)

Jeongguk has never in these months of you knowing him, called you a nickname like that. And the way your cheeks blush as you imagine him saying it, tells on you. You love it.

Jeongguk groans as he puts down your last box on the floor of your new bedroom. It’s a box with all your English books and there’s a lot. “Have you even read all of these?”

You stop in your little project of hanging up all your precious polaroid pictures, turning to look at him. You scoff, lying as you say: “yes, of course.”

He smirks lightly, giving you a look that says ‘nice try’. You laugh to yourself, turning back around to your polaroids. 

Jeongguk plops down on your bed, head laying on his hands as he brings them up behind his head. Today is a day for the books, you thought to yourself when he first arrived along with Jimin to get all your boxes and shove them into Jimin’s tiny car. He’s wearing blue jeans again, which you absolutely love on him, and he has styled them simply with a black t-shirt, showing off his tattooed right arm. You’ve been staring at him quite a few times since you arrived at the apartment you and Jeongguk have rented together. And it wasn’t helping how his arms kept flexing as he carried your boxes with all your shit up to your new bedroom.

He watches you in silence as you hang up the polaroids, standing with one in particular a bit longer. You smile as you reach down, showing it to him. “It’s us,” you smile softly.

Jeongguk takes the polaroid from your fingers, holding it closer to his face to see it better. It’s a polaroid photo taken at the Han River from that one night where you went out to eat dinner with his friends and some of your girlfriends. You had brought your polaroid camera along, hoping to catch some memories with it tonight. Jeongguk had noticed it that evening, grabbing it from your purse and snapping a ‘selfie’ of the two of you.

He smiles at the photo, remembering that evening as clear as if it was yesterday. That evening was one of the first times Jeongguk realized that he was indeed absolutely smitten by you and that you had him wrapped around your finger. You just didn’t know and you still don’t. “That was a great night,” he reminisces, handing you the photo back. You hang it up on the wall, right in the middle of all the others.

“Yeah,” you sigh deeply, “it was.”

Jeongguk claps his hands on his thighs as he sits up on the edge of your bed. You plop down beside him. “Pizza for dinner?” He suggests.

You nod frantically, “yes, please.”

And that’s how you and Jeongguk end up on the couch, watching that stupid movie with Gong Yoo. You’re completely sucked into that movie, mouth open in awe as you watch Gong Yoo unfolding his charms on the tv-screen. “Wow,” you breathe out as he kisses the main female character. Jeongguk scoffs from beside you, rolling his eyes before dropping his head backwards. The ceiling is more interesting than that ridiculous movie.

“Why is everyone so obsessed with this guy?” he asks, looking back at the screen again.

You shoot him a glare. “Are you sure you're not jealous?”

Jeongguk gasps dramatically, pretending to be offended by your words as he places a hand over his heart. “Am not!”

“Am too!” You laugh, scooting closer to him on the couch. “Admit it, you don’t like Gong Yoo because he’s getting a lot more attention than you.”

Scoffing again, Jeongguk knows that’s a lie and suddenly feeling like he needs to prove a point. He has girls waiting for him, not that you don’t know that. He smirks at you and says: “You know that’s a big fat lie, ___.”

You cock a brow at him. “You’re so full of yourself,” you scoff and get off the couch, taking the pizza boxes with you to clean up, “and you’re jealous, it’s obvious.”

Jeongguk scoffs right back at you as he gets up to follow you into the kitchen. “I am not jealous of some actor,” he states, “I have no reason to be.” You sigh to yourself, your back facing him as he leans in the doorway to the kitchen. You know very well that he has no reason to be jealous of some actor and you certainly don’t need him to remind you. He watches you clean up with a frown. “___.”

“What, Gguk?” You laugh humorlessly, turning to face him. “I get it, you’re hot and a woman magnet and so on, you don’t have to explain it to me.”

He smirks lightly, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer to you. “Who’s the jealous one now?” He chuckled, arms crossed over his chest as he towers over you. You groan and push at him, making him take a step back from you.

“You’re so annoying,” you grumbled, moving around him and out of the kitchen. Jeongguk watches you walk away towards your bedroom. “Goodnight, roomie,” you call out, waving a hand over your head without glancing back at him. There was a tone of sarcasm in your voice. The door to your bedroom being closed as Jeongguk sighs to himself, wandering his way to his own bedroom. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s asleep. The day must’ve been more tiring than he had thought. A nice memory of him and a pretty girl at the Han River fills up his mind as he dozes off into the night.

The next morning you’re sitting at the dining table, laptop and books out. Your reading glasses are resting on the bridge of your nose and your hair is in a messy bun, making you look relaxed as you study for whatever class you have coming up. Jeongguk strolls out of his bedroom, no shirt… only a pair of grey sweatpants. You glance at him as he passes by you, heading directly for the fridge. You can hear him rustle around for a bowl and a spoon. A minute later he joins you at the dining table, a bowl of fruit loops in front of him.

“Morning,” he says softly, voice still hoarse from waking up. Your stomach tingles at the sound and you mentally slap yourself for being such a wimp for him. You don’t give him a response, continuing to read in your book and type away on your laptop. You can feel him glancing at you occasionally as he eats his cereal. Jeongguk pouts lightly, sighing deeply as you don’t pay him any attention. This is not how he expected the first morning in the apartment to be like. He grumbles to himself for a bit, contemplating on what to say to fill out the silence that has overcome the two of you. An idea pops into his head. 

“Hey, I was thinking,” he starts, making you look at him briefly. You focus back on your laptop. Jeongguk falls silent.

“I’m listening,” you tell him, voice soft. “I just gotta finish this, but I’m listening.”

Jeongguk nods, hands fumbling. Why was he suddenly so nervous around you? There is absolutely no reason to be. Was it the tone from last time in which you had told him goodnight and then left him to himself that had him so on edge? He can’t really tell.

“I was thinking that we could have a small get-together with our friends, like a moving-in party?” He suggests. This idea actually sounds interesting, you think to yourself as you look back at him. Jeongguk smiles softly, continuing: “We can just invite the guys I usually hang with and then you can invite Lisa and Jisoo?”

You nod, smiling. “That does sound fun,” you agree on his idea, “let’s do it.”

A grin appears on Jeongguk’s lips. “Tonight? If people are able to make it with such short notice?”

Again, you nod. “I’m sure they don’t have more important stuff to attend on this Saturday evening,” you chuckle, knowing your friends and the fact that they rarely have much to do except for school, work and hanging out with each other. Same goes for Jeongguk’s friends. 

“You’re right,” Jeongguk laughs, feeling more at ease now that you’ve joked around with him a bit instead of just sitting there in silence and not really noticing him. It feels better when you laugh, joke around and talk like you usually do without the annoyed and slightly jealous tone. “I’ll text around, asking them to come over tonight.”

You nod lightly, watching him get up from his seat and bringing his cereal bowl to the kitchen. “Remember to tell them to bring their own alcohol! We have nothing in this house yet,” you call out, chuckling slightly. You really didn’t. You almost didn’t have any food either. Maybe today calls for a shopping trip to the supermarket. You turn back to your laptop, eager to finish the assignment and then getting to the supermarket to buy snacks and some food for your empty kitchen cupboards. Maybe Jeongguk can join you on the trip there.

“You think this is enough?” Jeongguk wonders out loud as he places the bowls of snacks down on the coffee table. You join him a few seconds later, a bunch of glasses in your arms for the beverage. Jeongguk notices you joggling all those glasses, rushing to your side with wide eyes to take some from you.

“Thanks,” you softly say, letting him take most of the glasses and placing them down on the table as well. He smiles sweetly in return. “I think it’s enough, we have a few extra chips bags in the cupboard.”

“Perfect,” Jeongguk grins, clapping his hands and rubbing them together in excitement. “This is gonna be fun, I didn’t expect everyone to say yes but they’re literally all coming here in like ten minutes.”

You chuckle softly, making Jeongguk’s stomach do small backflips. He ignores them as he plops down on the couch. “I’m excited,” you sigh, plopping down beside him.

Jeongguk nods, smiling still. “Me too,” he murmurs.

You and Jeongguk fall into small-talk as you wait for your guests to arrive. A bit more than ten minutes pass and the first guest knocks on the door. Jeongguk gets up to let them in, not getting to say much before he’s engulfed in a tight hug by Hoseok. “Hey man,” Hoseok grins, squeezing Jeongguk tightly. He pats him on the back before letting go and walking further inside. Jimin and Taehyung follow right behind, both giving Jeongguk one of those guy hugs.

You lock eyes with Taehyung, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. He lets go of Jeongguk to make his way to you, smiling widely. He looks really good, you think to yourself as he stops in front of you. His dark hair was curlier and more unruly than the last time you saw him which was only a few days ago. His smile was wide and bright as always, and his eyes a warm, dark brown. “Hey,” he greets you, smiling.

“Hi,” you reply, leaning closer to give him a hug. Jeongguk is closing the door behind Jimin as he glances your way and notices how Taehyung is already at your side, hugging you. He feels himself become slightly frustrated but Jimin is quick to push a hand against his chest, stopping him from walking over to you and make himself look stupid.

“Don’t,” he shakes his head at Jeongguk, eyeing him down until Jeongguk looks slightly less like he could punch Taehyung in the face right now. His jealousy is starting to get the best of him. He watches you, noticing how you smile that specific smile whenever you get flustered or complimented. Jimin glances in the direction of you and Taehyung, sighing as he looks back at Jeongguk. “You don’t get to be like this, Gguk. Not when you haven’t done anything to get her yourself.”

Jeongguk breathes out deeply, taking his eyes away from the relationship that’s starting to unfold in front of his eyes. Jimin is right, once again. He has no right to get all worked up and angry at the thought of you with Taehyung. At least Taehyung has the balls to actually flirt with you. Jeongguk feels like it backfires every time he tries to. Maybe it just isn’t meant to be you and him. With one glance at you and Taehyung, he joins Jimin in the kitchen to get himself a beer.

The night goes on, the rest of your friends arriving not long after Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin. Lisa and Jisoo sit with you at the dining table, having fun as all of you laugh loudly at whatever you’re talking about. Jeongguk has been watching you tonight more than he’d like to admit, almost being caught a few times. But he was quick enough to look away before you could lock eyes with him. He hasn’t spoken much to you since your friends had arrived which made his heart fall a bit further into his stomach. 

You glance in his direction, smiling softly. Jeongguk smiles back at you, deciding to get up and talk to you for the first time in hours. Grabbing his beer off the table, he’s about to get up and make his way to you, but he quickly stops in his tracks. Taehyung appears out of nowhere, standing close to you. His hands are resting on your shoulders as you look up at him. He smiles and says something Jeongguk can’t make out. You get up from your seat, letting Taehyung take your hand in his and guide you to the small balcony that is in you and Jeongguk’s apartment. 

Jeongguk doesn’t notice Lisa and Jisoo looking at him, sad smiles on their faces as his face drops and he heads for the kitchen instead, walking past them. You nor Jeongguk knows that the two girls are secretly rooting for the two of you to finally get out of your heads and actually date. It has been too long of this pining after one another, but you’re both in denial no matter how much either Lisa, Jisoo, Jimin or whoever it is, tells you to confess to each other. Lisa gets up from her seat, letting Jisoo know she’ll be right back. 

Lisa sighs deeply at the sight when she enters the kitchen. Jeongguk is hunched over the kitchen counter, head in his hands. She walks up to him, leaning against the counter beside him. Jeongguk senses her presence, grumbling lightly. “What?”

She scoffs, throwing a slap to his back causing him to stand up and face her. He glares at her, but he doesn’t say anything as he leans back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He’s frowning deeply, looking at the floor. “What’s going on with you?” Lisa asks, even though she knows what’s up. Jeongguk glances quickly at her before diverting his gaze back to the floor.

“Nothing,” he shrugs.

Lisa scoffs again, not believing any of his bullshit. “Bullshit, Jeon. I know this is about ___.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at the mention of your name. He’s about to have had enough of talking about you and his feelings for you. Jeongguk is quite literally wearing his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see and yet you’re the only one who doesn’t notice. “I just needed a moment to myself,” he mumbles, sighing deeply before taking a swig of his 4th or 5th beer of tonight.

Lisa nods, “I get that. I mean, she did go with Tae just as you were about to approach her.”

“Yup,” Jeongguk pops the ‘p’, another sip of his beer down his throat. “She’s with Tae, probably already head over heels for him.”

The annoyance in his tone and the slight disgust makes Lisa sigh. “Listen, Jeongguk, you’re doing nothing. You walk around, hang out with her and now you live with her and she still doesn’t know. ___ is blind as hell and she won’t know about your feelings if you don’t acknowledge them yourself.”

“I know,” Jeongguk groans, “but I just don’t- I don’t think she’ll ever see me like I see her.”

Lisa pats his shoulder, giving him a smile that probably is supposed to comfort him but it only makes him feel like she’s pitying him. “Just think about telling her how you feel instead of getting hurt every time someone else does what you could be doing.”

And with that, she leaves him alone in the kitchen again. Staying in his place for a few minutes, he contemplates going out to the balcony and demanding to talk to you, even if it means he has to interrupt your conversation with Taehyung. He empties his beer, leaving it behind as he makes his way to the balcony. He opens the door slightly, slipping outside to see you there with your hand in Taehyung’s. His face drops a little along with his heart. He covers it well with a small smile, his heart hammering hard inside his chest still.

“Hey Tae,” he says, “can I steal ___ for a bit?”

Taehyung nods at his younger friend, looking back at you. “So Friday then?” Taehyung smiles at you.

Friday? What happens Friday?

Jeongguk looks at you, awaiting your answer like Taehyung. “Yep,” you nod, smiling softly back at the curly-haired man in front of you.

“Awesome, it’s a date then,” he grins and lets go of your hand, heading back inside. Jeongguk moves to the side, letting Taehyung through the door. You glance at your roommate slash best friend, watching him as he moves closer. Silence overcomes you for the second time today and Jeongguk finds it unbearable. There’s usually never silence between you or around you, only when you have study dates and even then you always end up chatting instead of actually studying. 

Jeongguk clears his throat to break the silence. “So a date, huh?”

You look at him, a small hesitant smile on your lips but it looks closer to being a frown than an actual smile. “Yeah,” you trail off, finger fumbling as you lean over the balcony fence. Jeongguk’s hands are in his pockets but he feels them itching, dying to grab your fumbling ones.

“He’s a great guy,” Jeongguk suddenly blurts. You look at him confused. “Taehyung, I mean.”

You nod slowly, wondering where this conversation is going.

“But he loves girls, ___,” he rambles on, “you know, like, he has a hard time focusing on just one.”

Your face becomes hard, slightly offended on Taehyung’s behalf as the words leave Jeongguk’s mouth. “Oh, so he’s like you?”

Jeongguk falls silent at your words and it feels like a low blow. He sighs and frowns, looking away from you, staring at the almost empty street below. You can’t help but feel slightly guilty from saying that but it’s not a lie. Jeongguk has a booty call or two during the week, always having someone to contact whenever he needs his dick wet. But you still feel bad for firing off such a harsh comment.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, softly touching his bicep before heading back inside, leaving Jeongguk alone on the balcony.

You’re right, he thinks, but it’s only you who actually matters to him.

Two months have passed since your moving-in party, and things have been a bit tense around the apartment ever since. Taehyung has visited the apartment more often than any of your shared friends, but not for Jeongguk’s company. No, yours. And even though Jeongguk really has no say in your relationship with Taehyung, he still can’t help himself as he finds it ridiculous. He can tell you’re not as much in it as Taehyung is and it’s quite painful to watch. Why you’re not as into it as him is still a mystery to Jeongguk.

Today is no different as Jeongguk sits on the couch, watching his favorite cartoon when the doorbell rings. He groans lowly as he gets up from the couch to open the door. Taehyung appears in front of him, his big and unruly curly hair taking all the attention. Dude should get a haircut, Jeongguk thinks to himself as he leaves the door open for Taehyung to enter. 

“Hey man,” Taehyung greets Jeongguk, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Is ___ home?”

Jeongguk cocks a single eyebrow. Shouldn’t he have checked that before coming here. “She’s in the shower,” he tells Taehyung, plopping back down on the couch. Taehyung nods, thanking him quietly before heading for your bedroom. Jeongguk watches him, grumbling under his breath because he’s starting to get tired of seeing Taehyung’s face that often during the week. He sighs to himself, trying to focus on his cartoon show instead of the sounds of you giggling inside your room.

Long hours pass before Jeongguk hears Taehyung leaving, the clock striking eleven in the evening before he’s out of you and Jeongguk’s apartment. He did leave quite in a rush though, making Jeongguk curious. He leaves his laptop on as he gets up from his bed to go to your bedroom. He knocks on your slightly opened door, peeking inside. You’re nowhere to be seen making him frown and furrow his eyebrows. He hears shuffling in the kitchen as he moves to the living room. When he reaches the doorway to the kitchen, he leans against it. You’re moving around, rummaging through the cupboards for something, dressed in pajamas shorts and an oversized t-shirt, one that looks awfully a lot like one of his.

“What are you looking for?” Jeongguk calls out, making you jump in surprise. You hold a hand to your chest as you turn to look at him, eyes wide. Jeongguk smirks lightly at your shocked expression, noticing the light blush that appears on your cheeks.

You turn your back to him to continue to look through the cupboards. “Just some snacks, I’m craving some right now,” you tell your best friend who you have no idea is just behind you. You freeze in your actions as Jeongguk reaches up to grab his usual snack off the top shelf. He hands it to you, smiling softly. You squint at him, wondering why he’s giving you his favorite snacks and the last pack at that.

As if he can read your mind: “You can have them if you want.”

Smiling, you open the pack and pop one into your mouth, the crispy consistency making you sigh in content. Jeongguk laughs at your happy expression, knowing the way to your heart is usually through food. 

You grab another piece, holding it up to Jeongguk’s lips. He glances at it before opening his mouth and letting you feed him. His eyes are on yours the entire time as his lips brush your fingertips. Your heart leaps, making you pull your fingers back quickly. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice as he smiles, chewing the snack with the same happy expression you sported just moments ago.

“Let’s talk,” you suddenly blurt out, Jeongguk looking confused which causes you to explain further. “We haven’t like talked talked in a long time, so uh yeah, let’s talk?”

Your declaration has turned into a hesitant question as you wait, needing some kind of response.

“Sure,” he shrugs, smiling again. As he turns on his heel, you smile back and follow him into the living room. You plop down beside him on the couch, unintentionally letting your legs rest against his thigh as you pull them up under you. He glances at your bare legs for a second before diverting his eyes to you. “So what do you wanna talk about?”

You shrug, “I don’t know, life?”

Jeongguk chuckles, “life?”

You nod enthusiastically, smiling at him, “yes, life.”

He purses his lips, wondering if there’s anything to tell. You basically know most things already and not much has happened the past weeks except for the fact that his little ‘I’m in love with my best friend’ hasn’t resolved at all, and that he’s still hopelessly in love with you even though you have a boyfriend now. Which still seems surreal to him because it’s one of his friends whom he usually likes but not right now because well, yeah, he’s dating you. But there’s no way he’s actually going to tell you all of that.

“I don’t have anything to say,” he decides on saying, pouting playfully. You chuckle at his facial expression. He smiles at you, eyes going soft because you’re sitting so close to him for the first time in a long time and he feels relaxed. More relaxed than he has been for a while.

“Nothing much for me either,” you sigh, moving the pack of snacks closer to Jeongguk so he can eat some. “Tae asked me to come home with him for the fall break, he wants me to meet his parents.” You leave out the part where you broke up with Taehyung.

Jeongguk’s movements come to a halt, one banana crisp inches away from entering his mouth. “Really?”

You nod. Jeongguk notices how your tone was slightly hesitating and off as you told him about Taehyung’s request.

“Isn’t it a bit…” he trails off, not knowing which words to use without sounding like an asshole. You watch him as he searches for the words.

“A bit what, Gguk?” You press.

He sighs. “A bit over the top, maybe?”

You scoff lightly, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeongguk panics as you move a bit away, your legs no longer touching his. You give him a look that tells him to explain what he means. He sits up, elbows resting on his knees. “Listen, I just think it’s a bit unnecessary since it’s obvious that this relationship isn’t as important to you than it is to Tae.”

“You don’t know that,” you tell him, voice stern. Jeongguk is right, but you’re not gonna tell him that. He hasn’t been talking much to you for the past months hence he has no idea what he’s talking about because you haven’t told him anything about your now ended relationship with Taehyung. Call you bitter, you don’t care. Your best friend hasn’t shown any interest in your life whatsoever for two months now and yes, you’re blaming him for the tension there is in this home.

Jeongguk lets out a small groan in frustration, “but I do, ___! I do know,” he insisted, turning to fully face you, “I can tell because you’re not looking at him the way he looks at you, you’re not fully there every time he’s kissing you goodbye by the door before he leaves. I’ve witnessed it enough to know that you don’t feel the same as he does.”

You’re silent as he talks, listening to everything he says but still holding onto the bitterness that you have for him in regards to his little to no interest in you for two whole months.

“Don’t you dare deny it, ____,” he snapped, “I know you and you don’t love him.”

Punch him. You want to punch him for knowing you so damn well and for seeing right through you. And you want to punch him for being so dumb and blind that he still hasn’t figured out why you’re not in love with Taehyung. How can he not see that he’s the one you love? You’ve been wearing your heart on your sleeve for the entire summer and more, slowly falling in love with him ever since that night he brought you to the frozen yoghurt shop downtown.

“You’re right. I don’t love him,” you mumble under your breath. Jeongguk glances at you, eyes still filled with a small amount of frustration and anger, all directed at you and only you. “But you have no right to tell me this when you haven’t been interested in me and my life for two fucking months, Jeongguk!”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion, his heart slowly starting to beat faster because why are you fighting? What the hell just happened? “Wha-” 

You get up from your seat, moving further away from him and Jeongguk feels like you’re slipping right through his fingertips even though he hasn’t ever been the one to hold you. But he should have, he should’ve been the one to hold you from the start.

“You don’t get to do this, not now when we haven’t really spoken to each other for so long,” you jabbed, “it’s my fault too, but I don’t come at you for having several girls over, do I?”

Jeongguk sighs, running his hands over his face in aggravation. “___, you’re overreacting. I wasn’t trying to tell you anything, I was just-”

“No, Jeongguk. No,” you shake your head, sneering at him. “I don’t need you to tell me or suggest anything, I don’t need your input and I don’t need you to make a decision!”

Jeongguk gets up, moving towards you, face twisting in anger. “Tell me, ___. What is he to you, huh? What is he?”

You glare at him, eyes hard on like his own and you don’t falter one moment. This anger and frustration has been a long time coming now, from both of you. “You’ve said he’s your boyfriend, but what is he really? Is he a fuckbuddy? Is he just someone to get yourself off with, huh?”

“No, Jeongguk, fuck you!” You shout, defending whatever it is that you have with Taehyung. “He’s good company, and no, I don’t see him like he sees me. He’s nothing more than good company but I actually like being around him unlike someone else I know!”

Jeongguk chuckles flatly, no humor behind it as he steps back from you. Hurt flashes across his face as he gets what you just said. “I see how it is,” he nods, giving you one last hurt look before retreating to his room. You stand back, hand coming up to cover your mouth as a cry rakes through your body. You didn’t know you had been holding back tears, the emotions you have for Jeongguk being poured out in the form of heavy tears in the middle of your living room. You’re frozen in your spot, sobs shaking you as you hold yourself. The sound of Jeongguk slamming his hand against the wall makes you move out of your frozen spot. You quickly make your way to your own bedroom, slamming the door behind you. 

You slide under the covers, head feeling heavy as you let the tears fall. You didn’t intend to hurt Jeongguk the way you did, but you practically just shouted at him that you don’t like being around him, that his company isn’t good. It must’ve hurt him more than what you or he, himself, expected it to. You feel bad as you let your duvet engulf you whole, the taste of regret on your tongue as you keep repeating your own words in your head. 

“He’s nothing more than good company but I actually like being around him unlike someone else I know!”

How could you even say that when Jeongguk hasn’t been anything but great company for you? He has been even more than that, he has been a friend you needed more than you ever knew, a person so supportive and loving that you always felt like you had someone to come to whenever times were rough. And in the midst of all this, you managed to fall for him as well. He didn’t do much to make it happen, he was just himself from the very beginning of your friendship and you’ve seen sides to him not many people have witnessed and you know the real Jeon Jeongguk. The Jeongguk who loves his camera more than anything, the Jeongguk who loves food and snacks and banana milk as if he was five years old again. The Jeongguk who’s such a softie, when you first get to know him like you do, that half of it would be more than enough. The Jeongguk who loves with his entire being, always putting his loved ones before himself – including you.

You sigh deeply, hating yourself for shouting such inaccurate words at him. You had to make it up to him, apologize to him for being so inconsiderate when all he did was trying to make you realize that the relationship you have with Taehyung is a waste of time. Jeongguk is right, you know he is. You don’t love Taehyung and you know you never will. The feelings just aren’t there, they’re elsewhere with someone who’s been worthy of them since what feels like forever.

Sleep doesn't overcome you as you stay in bed, staring at the ceiling. You’ve been tossing and turning for the past few hours, trying your very hardest to fall asleep ever since the fight you had with Jeongguk.You glance at the clock on your nightstand that’s reading 3 am — you have a morning lecture to attend in 6 hours. You let out a heavy sigh. Eyebrows furrowed together in frustration and your lips in a pout because why the fuck are you not able to sleep? Your eyes feel heavy from crying, but your best friend is taking up all your thoughts and the feelings you have for him are almost bursting out of your chest.

You groan to yourself as you roll over, pulling the duvet over your head. Closing your eyes, you try again for the umpteenth time. “I just wanna sleep,” you whine to yourself, but it’s no help. You give up on sleep.

You’re only half aware of what’s happening as you get out of bed and leave your bedroom, heading for Jeongguk’s bedroom. You stop in your tracks in front of his door. Maybe he’s also up, you think to yourself as you reach for the doorknob, turning it lightly. Peeking inside his dark room, you notice him fast asleep in his bed. You softly smile through the evident feeling of regret which is still heavy in your stomach. Without further thinking, you slip inside his room and close the door. You tiptoe over to his bed, glancing over him once again.

He looks peaceful, eyes shut and eyelashes touching the top of his cheek. Yet there’s a crease on his forehead and a slight frown upon his lips. The corner of your lips turn into a frown, copying his features unintentionally. Your eyes rake over the rest of his body. The duvet is only halfway covering him, from the waist and down. his naked chest is rising and falling as he breathes deeply. A soft tingle runs through your stomach as you carefully crawl onto his bed. You lift the duvet and slip under, sliding closer to him. He stirs in his sleep, turning over onto his side. you glance up at his face, noticing his eyes slightly open. You can barely see him in the darkness, but you can feel him looking at you.

“Hey,” he whispers into the darkness.

You smile, a sad smile, but he can’t see it. “Hi.”

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, voice soft yet hoarse. He moves a bit, trying to lay comfortably while creating more space for you. He’s careful not to touch you. 

You shake your head at his question. “Not really,” you mumble.

You scoot closer, hand reaching out to touch his that is lying between the two of you. “I’m sorry,” you whisper softly into the night. Jeongguk turns his hand, letting you intertwine your fingers with his. 

“For what?” He mutters quietly.

You breathe out shakily as Jeongguk is now the one to move closer to you. You let out a sigh, relaxing as his forehead rests against yours, his breathing clashing with your own.

“For the things I said, for shouting at you, for insulting you,” you explain, voice still soft and low as if someone outside would be able to hear you. “I didn’t mean any of it, I just-”

You stop yourself, hesitating. Should you just tell him? Tell him why you don’t love Taehyung when you have plenty of reasons to do so? Jeongguk senses the inner battle you’re having with yourself, his hand squeezing yours to let you know that you can tell him whatever it is that you have on your mind, reassuring you that he’s listening. “I don’t love Taehyung,” you sigh, “I broke up with him tonight… And there’s a pretty good reason for this.”

Jeongguk nods, humming in response because he already knows, it just took him insanely long to realize. Your thundering heart and shaky breath gave you away the moment he moved closer to you. Jeongguk is daring as he leans even closer, breath hitting your lips. You gasp lightly at the feeling of his lips ghosting yours, the skin of them softer than anything. His hand lets go of yours only to snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your hand touches his bare chest, the almost new and fresh tattoo he got two weeks ago feeling rough yet soft under your touch. He’s holding you so close that you’re unconsciously holding your breath.

“I was so scared,” you whisper against his lips, hand moving up from his chest to the back of his neck. Your fingertips brush against his hair, his long and slightly curled hair soft like you had always imagined it to be. “Scared you wouldn’t say it back.”

The tension in the room is almost unbearable but in a good way. This is months of feelings, tension and longing all coming together and clashing right here in this moment. You feel breathless, like you can’t breathe but at the same time, you’re perfectly fine.

“Say what back, ___?”

His hand runs along your hip and to your thigh, hooking around it and bringing it around him to hug his waist. His crotch is almost touching yours and your breath hitches at the feeling. Jeongguk smirks to himself, knowing exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He loves taking your breath away like this, but he can think of another way, something he’s been dying to do for a long time.

“Tell me,” he demands softly yet strongly, making you gasp again.

“I love you, Jeongguk,” You breathe out, feeling a weight coming off your chest, “I love you so much.”

Jeongguk’s heart skips a beat, a small smile appearing on his face as he cups your face, thumb running across your cheek. “You’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t love you back,” he whispers against your lips.

You whine at him for calling you an idiot and then you melt as he presses his lips against yours, soft and plump like pillows. Your hand tangles in his hair, fingers grabbing strands of curly, black hair as you let him kiss you until your breath is gone. It’s like you're sinking into him, fitting perfectly against his body. Goosebumps rise upon your skin as his hand wanders; over your bare legs to your waist and further across your chest and up to lightly wrap around the base of your throat. His tongue pokes at your lips, wanting to find yours. You part your lips, letting his tongue touch yours, the wetness and softness mixing well together as he pulls you even closer, a moan slipping out of you.

“Shit, ___,” he grunts against your lips as you press your core to his in eagerness, making him lose his mind, “please let me fuck you, let me love you so good, baby.”

You nod frantically, giving him full permission to do whatever he wants with you. A tiny squeal emits from your lips as he pushes you over, hovering over you and trapping you between his arms. He looks down at you, eyes soft and filled with want and lust. You smile up at him, hands running up and down the sides of his naked torso. You loved touching him like this, feeling his muscles tense under your touch and his soft skin that is filled with heavy tattoos, all of them having their own special meaning.

“I love you,” he whispers so softly you almost don’t hear it, eyes flickering between yours.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, cupping his face to pull him down to meet you for a kiss, a sloppy and wet kiss that makes your body tingle. You hum in satisfaction as he moves away from your lips, kissing his way down to your neck. He licks a stripe up your neck and to your ear, tongue flicking at your earlobe. He makes you shiver, his touch soft like a feather and yet rough enough to make you feel them more evidently than anything you’ve ever felt before.

As he works his way down with his lips, your hands are everywhere. On his shoulders, in his hair. You’re squirming under his touch, feeling impatient as he takes his time with you. It’s like he already knows every part of your body as he runs his hands down your sides and up under his T-shirt, that you’ve stolen at some point, pushing it up and revealing your breasts. He pulls the shirt all the way off, throwing it onto the floor without looking. His room is rather cold, making your nipples stiffen. He licks his lips, looking at your chest with hungry eyes. You gasp as he cups your breasts, thumbs running over each nipple. You bite your lip, holding yourself from moaning too loudly. You can’t hold it in as you watch him wrap his wetted lips around one of your hardened nubs, tongue lapping over it and flicking it.

“Holy sh- Jeongguk,” you moan, eyes closing as you arch your back in pure pleasure. He bites onto it causing you to twitch in his grasp. He smirks up at you as you glance down, watching him move to the other breast to give it the same amount of attention. He’s such a tease, you can barely comprehend it in your mind. 

A small tiny moan emits from your lips as he moves further down, lips kissing the skin on your stomach, trailing around your navel and to the edge of your pajamas shorts. He glances up at you for permission which you grant him with a small nod, teeth biting onto your lower lip. He hooks his fingers under the waistband, pulling shorts and panties down your legs. They’re on the floor within a matter of seconds, out of the world and out of the mind of the both of you as Jeongguk focuses his attention on the wetness that has formed between your legs. His dick twitches in his boxers, the sight of you bare and naked in front of him messing with his head.

You whimper as he spreads your legs, revealing your wetness to the cold air of the room, making you shiver once again. He inhales as he lowers his face between your legs, quiet growl leaving his lips. “You smell so good, baby,” he rasps, hands running from your ankles to your thighs and squeezing the soft flesh there, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “Can’t wait to taste you.”

The feeling of his lips against you makes you jolt, your breath quickening as you feel him kissing against your folds. Jeongguk brings a hand up, the other hand gripping your thigh tightly to keep your legs spread for him. You moan lightly as he runs a finger down between your wet lips, loving every second of watching and hearing you squirm beneath his touch. You’re not prepared for the feeling when he spreads your folds with his fingers before diving in, licking up and flicking your already sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you moan out, your hand digging into his hair as he licks and eats you out like a starved man. Your breathing picks up as he quickens the pace of his tongue, feeling yourself nearing your high. “D-don’t stop, Gguk.”

Jeongguk hums in response to your words, letting a finger slip between your folds and inside you. You gasp, leaning up onto your elbows to watch him. Your mouth hangs open, a fucked out expression on your face as he glances up at you, lips still tightly connected to your core. “Oh,” you hum, biting your bottom lip tightly, “oh, fuck.”

His mouth leaves your wet lips as another finger sinks into you, pumping in and out at a fast pace. He’s desperate to bring you to your orgasm, lips kissing all over your thighs and lower stomach. “Let go, baby, cum for me.”

Your arms give up, your head hitting the pillows as your first orgasm of the night comes at you with full force – Jeongguk’s goal is to make you cum at least three times tonight but you don’t know that. “Fuuuuck Jeongguk,” you moan, voice high pitched as you close your eyes. Your toes are curling, fist grabbing the sheet tightly as his fingers fucks you through your orgasm. As you come down from your high, Jeongguk removes his fingers from you, your release covering them as he holds them up. You watch him bring his fingers to his lips, licking your cum off them. You whine, sitting up to reach for him, desperate for more.

He chuckles with a smirk, letting you pull him closer by hooking a finger around the silver necklace around his neck. Your lips finally land against his again, a sigh emitting from you as you let him lead you back onto your back again. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he positions himself between your legs, his cock twitching against your core. You can feel how hard he is through his boxers. Your tongue dances with his as you reach down, cupping him through the fabric of his underwear.

He grunts against your mouth, letting your lips go to rest his forehead against your collarbone. Your hand squeezes him causing him to whine lightly. “Baby, don’t do this to me,” he rasps, lips pressing tiny kisses against the skin on your throat. “Need to fuck you.”

You nod, running a hand through his hair and down his neck to his shoulder blade. Pushing at the waistband of his boxers, he gets the hint. He helps you push them down his legs, his cock springing free and slap against his abdomen. You let him do the rest himself. He kicks them off, leaving them to fall onto the floor, long forgotten. He reaches over to his bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a condom. You watch him rip it open with his teeth before reaching down to roll it onto his sensitive, throbbing dick. You kiss him once he returns back to hovering over you, tongue sloppily fighting against his. Pulling away, he trails kisses to just above your breasts and back up to your neck. His hands are everywhere on you, running over your nipples to your stomach and further down to brush against your still wet, pulsing core. “Still so wet for me, huh?” He hums against your neck, teeth lightly biting into your skin. “Only for me?”

You nod, breathing heavily, “only you, Gguk.”

You can feel his smirk against your neck, shivers running through you at the thought. He lines himself up, leaning up on his elbows to glance at your face. You lock eyes with him, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, eyes closing momentarily before he presses a kiss to your palm.

The moment his eyes open again, you gasp. They’re dark, filled with lust and desperation. You don’t get to say a thing before he pushes past your folds and inside, making you moan his name out loud in surprise and pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” you moan, grabbing onto his bicep tightly. He hisses at the mixed feeling of your nails digging into his skin and the sensation of finally getting to be balls deep in you after all these months. He bottoms out, head resting in the crook of your neck as he stays still for a moment. 

“Oh god, you’re big,” you breathe out into the darkness, taking a few minutes to adjust to his size before you tell him to move. He chuckles against your neck, pressing a small kiss there before leaning up to support himself on his hands, looking down to see where you’re connected as one. “Gguk, please move.”

You’re in another world as he pulls out and pushes back in, the force already unlike anything you’ve ever tried before. How is he better and bigger than what you’d expected? 

“Fuck,” he groans, “you’re so tight.”

Your moans become more high pitched for each thrust Jeongguk does, your stomach tightening in just the right way. He sets a steady rhythm, somehow managing to hit the perfect spot every single time. “I love you so much,” you gasp out as he grinds into you, bottoming out in you and filling you to the brim.

He moans at your words, a hand grabbing your leg and wrapping it tightly around his waist as he fucks you harder. “I love you too,” he breathes out against your lips before kissing you hard but sloppily.

Jeongguk man handles you halfway through, unwrapping your legs from his waist and bending them to press against your chest. This angle causes him to hit even deeper than before. “Jeongguk, please fuck me faster,” you whine, moaning. He bites into his bottom lip as he follows your command, setting a faster yet still hard pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits you deeper for every single thrust, his balls slapping against your ass as he fucks hard into you.

You’re seeing stars as you close your eyes and moaning out loud in pleasure, loving you better than anyone ever good, cherishing your body in every way he can as he brings you to another orgasm. White flashes for your eyes as it hits you, hands digging into his hair and pulling him in for another kiss. “Oh my god, fuck,” you whine against his lips, feeling yourself tighten around him.

This brings him to the edge, low grunts and groans leaving his lips in between sloppy kisses. His last thrusts become even harder as he hits his high, he stills as he cums into the condom. He’s breathing hard along with you, forehead resting on your chest.

“Holy fucking shit,” he sighs deeply as he pulls out before plopping down to lay beside you. He pulls the condom off and throws it into the bin close to his bed. “That was-”

“Amazing,” you breathe out, turning onto your side to look at him. He turns his head, smiling at you. “You’re amazing,” you tell him.

He grins, leaning up to press his mouth to yours in another sloppy yet soft kiss. You peck his lips one, two, three times before resting your head on his chest. Jeongguk wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. The duvet is pulled over the two of you as you’re slowly beginning to drift off to sleep. You don’t allow yourself to fall asleep before you’ve talked about this whole thing.

You rest your chin on his chest, locking eyes with him. His finger tips are running up and down your naked back, goosebumps rising once again.

“What now?” You question hesitantly, voice soft and careful.

Jeongguk shrugs, smiling softly at you. He brings a hand up to push strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s just you and me,” he softly says, running his thumb across your bottom lip. You kiss the pad of his thumb, making him smile even wider.

“Just you and me?” You repeat.

He nods, “you and me.”

You lean up, pressing a last kiss to his lips before resting your head against his chest once again, this time really falling asleep. Jeongguk lies awake for a bit, fingers still running up and down your spine. Your soft snores fill the quietness of his bedroom and it already feels like this is how it’s meant to be, finally.

The sun is forcing its way through the curtains in Jeongguk’s bedroom causing you to stir in your sleep. You stretch before rolling over onto your other side, coming to face a sleeping Jeongguk. You smile, feeling your chest fill with warmth and love as you watch him sleep with his mouth slightly parted and light snores leaving him as well.

You reach out, brushing his overgrown, curly hair out of his face. He stirs lightly, reaching up to wrap his hand around yours and intertwining your hands. He’s still sleepy as he opens his eyes, dark brown eyes meeting yours.

“Hey,” you whisper, shuffling closer so that you can press a soft peck to his lips.

He smiles, feeling his chest fill with warmth and the feeling of being content and happy in this exact moment. 

It doesn’t even take five minutes before Jeongguk’s is more awake and has you pinned down beneath him. He leans down, lips ghosting yours as he rests himself between your legs. He’s still naked just like you.

“Wanna go again?” He whispers against your lips, pressing a soft kiss to them.

You chuckle, “wasn’t last night enough for you?”

He shakes his head, lips moving further down to your neck and biting into your skin, in the same spot as last night. “It will never be enough,” he hums into your skin. You can feel his dick twitch against your thigh causing wetness to quickly appear in between your legs.

Without another word, you reach down and line him up against your folds. “No condom?” He looks at you, confused.

You shake your head. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean,” you tell him, “aren’t you?”

Jeongguk looks at you in awe, nodding his head. “Of course, I am.”

He leans down, kissing you softly, tongue poking out to ask for allowance. You kiss him back, letting him in, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close. Jeongguk lines himself up again, hand wrapped around the base of his cock. You feel him poking at your folds, stomach tingling in excitement because there’s simply no cock better than Jeongguk’s.

“I love you,” he softly whispers.

You smile, “I love you too.”

Just as he’s about to push himself fully inside, the sound of the front door slamming shut stills him. Jimin’s voice sounds throughout the apartment: “Guys, get up! I’m inviting both of you out to eat breakfast, so you better be ready in five minutes!”

Jeongguk drops his head to your shoulder, a groan leaving his lips. “I can’t believe I get cockblocked again,” he grumbles against your skin, making you laugh out loudly.

taglist; @ggukkieland​ @koonanamilk​ @cloudreads-blog @bringitseijoh​ @lenisqueen​ @crazyboutjooni​ @sugaminh​ @cheerfulmultiez​ @jaykayseagull​ @shubhiixxx @luv-yourselff​ @97z-gcf​ @n4omiii​ @bangtaened-army​ @romeisourstoruin​ @imluckybitches

[bepp-ers]

Only Human | Yandere! Solomon X Reader

oki oki so thankyu to this anon for requesting some Yandere! Solomon and Yandere! Satan. this is the first of two (2)! also, i am trying out the new Tumblr editor so if some things are different, you know why. second version should be up soon after this! <3

You watched with disinterest as your teacher went over some demon subject you weren't interested in enough to care, and quietly flicked through your notes.

Unfortunately, none of the brothers were in this class with you, so you'd have to meet with them afterwards.

'Thank god there's only a few more minutes...'

-

After gathering your things, you slipped away from the classroom, texting the group chat to tell people where you were.

Scanning the hallways, you grinned as you spotted the 2nd youngest of the brothers.

You were about to approach him, when someone tapped your shoulder. You jumped, spinning around quickly.

"Hey, [MC]." "Solomon! Don't sneak up on me like that, jeez." "Ahaha, did I scare you?" "Course not. Anyway, need something?"

His smiled widened. "Yes, actually, I could use an extra pair of hands back at Purgatory Hall. I was going to ask Simeon, but he and Luke are busy."

You glanced back to where you had seen Beel, but he was gone. You shrugged. "Sure, I like magical hijinks. Lemme just text Luci, and we can go."

You sent a text to Lucifer and walked with Solomon, leaving the school grounds together.

"Hey, [MC], where are ya goin'?" You turned at the sound of Mammon's voice, seeing that he was accompanied by Asmo and Beel.

"What Mammon meant was where are you two going without me?" Asmo sidled up to you and linked his arm with yours.

"Ah, [MC]'s just helping me back at Purgatory Hall. I'd love to have you along, but it requires assistance from a human. Otherwise I'd love to have you along."

"Aww. Fine, see you later [MC]! And you, Solomon!" "See ya." Beel was probably to focused on food to care that much.

Mammon, however, was not pleased. "Wait a sec' - You're a human! Ya' could just do it yourself!" Solomon chuckled, though you sensed it wasn't genuine.

"Well, [MC] here is my little helper. Now, if you'll excuse us." He put an arm around your shoulder and escorted you away, without further qualms.

-

"Sorry about Mammon, he can be such a meat head at times..." "Don't worry about it, I'm aware he's no angel." You giggled, and followed Solomon to his room.

You had always been fond of his room. There was so much going on, you could barely tell what was what.

In one corner, you saw several small ornate cauldrons sat upon an intricately carved table. You'd always thought of cauldrons as huge and old, but these looked brand new.

"As you can see, I've got everything ready. I need someone to add the ingredients in a specific order. Meanwhile, I need to prepare a separate concoction."

"Complicated stuff." "Eh, not really. I've written a list for the order of ingredients, and when to add them. Here," He handed you a list written on crisp parchment.

You scanned it, positive it was simple enough for you to follow.

"Your handwriting is surprisingly neat. Cool, I can do this. Just let me know when you want me to begin." “Mm, sure. You can start now, if you’d like.”

You nodded and got to work. First on the list: Angel Feather. ‘No guessing where he got that one.’

Secondly, Crushed Rubies. ‘Mammon would snort this stuff, hundred percent.’

You continued adding ingredients until there were none left, and you were left with a pastel pink mixture, with the texture of a smooth paint. You called Solomon to inspect it, and he beamed at you.

“That’s wonderful, you’re a natural. I’ll add the two together now,” He took your concoction and slowly began pouring it in. They swirled together, and you expected something crazy to happen.

It didn’t though, instead it simply all changed to that pinkish colour. “It looks pretty.” “Mm, I agree.” You thought for a moment, and then realised something.

You had no idea what this magical mixture did. “So, what does this stuff do, exactly?” He glanced over at you, and then shrugged. 

“You don’t know??” “Maybe. I have a feeling I know, but the tome I found it in never actually specified.” “Oh. So... how are you gonna find out?” 

He grinned. “Well, there’s a few ways. I think I’m going to go with testing it out on someone, though.” 

You blinked. “That’s gonna be me, isn’t it?” “You’re so clever, [MC] . Just sit there for a moment please.”

You rolled your eyes as he turned around. Of course you’d ended up trying another mystery concoction. You just prayed it wasn’t as bad as his cooking.

“Viola. Here you go.” He turned to face you, holding a little bowl of the pink potion. You took it, and held it closely to your face.

“It won’t kill you, you know.” “I know, it just... it smells familiar. Bottoms up I guess...” 

You took a sip of the substance, and then a larger gulp. Finishing the dregs, you licked your lips. “Well? Did I grow antlers or something cool?”

Solomon shook his head. “That’s a shame, it doesn’t seem to work. How did it taste, anyway?”

You paused. “I don’t know, like strawberry mi-- ack!!”

Coughing, you raised a hand to your mouth. Your eyes widened when you took it away and there was blood dripping down your palm.

“Solomon...?” You spluttered, the bowl clattering to the floor. With a shriek, you followed suit, more blood pouring from your mouth. “Sol....Solomon help! Wh-- agh- what was that potion?!”

You keeled over, clutching at your torso and mouth. To your horror, he simply smiled, kneeling down besides you. He reached a hand out, gently moving your hair from your face.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m glad the potion worked, aren’t you?”

-

Strawberries. That sweet taste mixed with blood danced on your lips, as you bolted up from the chair you were sat on. 

Was it all just a cruel dream? Maybe Belphie was controlling your dreams for fun again...

Nope. Looking around, you didn’t recall your surroundings. 

An room, whites, blues and golden hues trimming every surface, every edge.

The only issue was simply that there were no windows, and only one door. You rushed over to it, but as you neared your hand, the air around it pulsed and a shock rippled through your arm.

You voiced your pain out loud, and staggered over to the nearby mirror.

“W-wait, my pact mark...”

Scorched. That was all you could use to describe the bare skin on your neck, where the Avatar of Lust had made a pact with you.

Frantically scouring your body, you noted that all of your pacts had been damaged in one way or another, leaving you unable to summon any of the Brothers.

“Aw, did you lose something, MC?” 

That voice. Smug, arrogant, silvery... You turned to glare at the sorcerer, seething. He stood by the grand bed, carefully observing you.

“W-what did you do?!” Was all you could manage, before collapsing from a sudden wave of exhaustion.

“I’m doing this for you, love. It’s only necessary, after all..”

“...You’re only human, [MC].”

-

i really hope this is okay as i come back into writing for this account. there’s so much i have done, and i just got overwhelmed. i’m back and i’m gonna try to look after me a bit more. i got back into obey me! swd? so that’s good. feel free to request, my tiny rat brain thrived on inboxes. love you guys! <3

[starryhyuck]

good girls (m) | slytherin!hyuck

pairing: slytherin!donghyuck x ravenclaw!reader

words: 4k+

summary: donghyuck thinks you’re the most perfect, little goody-two-shoes head girl who’s ever walked the halls of hogwarts. that is, until he finds out you’ve fucked na jaemin in the back of the library.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: public sex, overstimulation, creampies, degradation, riding

yes this is inspired by ‘good girls’ from 5sos.. how did you know?

“Leave me alone, Donghyuck.”

The Slytherin boy insists on following you, weaving his way through the shelves of the library simply just to annoy you. You’re sure Donghyuck has made it his goal to get under your skin this year, just as he has done in years prior. Luckily, the both of you are reaching the end of your time at Hogwarts, so it shouldn’t be long before he completely disappears from your life.

“What’s wrong? I’m just asking you for Potions help.”

You glare at him as you reach for another book you need to study. Since your father was the Potions professor, Donghyuck always assumed you would be able to help him cheat on upcoming tests. His version of help was always laced with just tell me the answer.

“I’m not telling you anything,” you hiss lowly, scurrying away in an attempt to get him to leave. You’re unsuccessful, of course, as he trails behind you when you reach your desk.

“Will you at least come to the Quidditch game this weekend?” He smirks, placing his hands on the table and leaning over to grin sleazily at you. You roll your eyes, getting situated in your seat as you open your Charms textbook.

“I’m not interested in watching Quidditch.”

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t lie. I saw you in the stands last weekend with Renjun.”

“Fine. I’m not interested in watching you play Quidditch.”

He scoffs. “Whatever. Just let me know when goody-two-shoes wants to come out of the library and have some fun.”

Donghyuck leaves you, finding Yangyang and Jeno in the Great Hall. The boys are laughing at the Slytherin table even though neither of them are actually a Slytherin. The rest of the table isn’t bothered by their presence.

Jeno snickers at the sight of Donghyuck’s long face when he sits next to him.

“Struck out again?”

“I didn’t strike out,” Donghyuck clarifies, although nobody is buying it. “It’s a slow process.”

“So you struck out?” Yangyang chuckles.

Donghyuck just rolls his eyes. “I’ll get there.”

Jeno glances back down at his Herbology textbook. “You should talk to Jaemin. I think they’re good friends.”

It’s hard to fathom that you would be friends with anybody, considering you spend most of your time in the library or helping your dad out in his office. Donghyuck’s tried really hard to get a sliver of your attention since First Year. He didn’t know exactly what it was that attracted him to you, but he supposes that you rejecting him kept spurring on his advances. You were also super fucking hot, and he almost passed out in Fourth Year when you showed up to the Yule Ball wearing a dress that still lingers in his dreams.

“How would Jaemin even-“

“Don’t ask me,” Jeno brushes off. “I’m studying.”

Donghyuck huffs before pulling out his own textbook. He supposes he should study too since you’re clearly not going to help him. He tends to zone out during most of his classes, mainly thinking about how sinful you look in your little skirt, how he could just rip your robes right off and-

Yangyang hits him upside the head. Donghyuck groans.

“Stop daydreaming and focus.”

The Slytherin boy grumbles but listens anyways, trying his best to focus on the History of Magic instead of imagining you bent over one of the desks in Potions class.

—

“If you’re not going because Donghyuck asked you to, then that’s just stupid. I don’t even understand why you’re in Ravenclaw.”

You glare at Renjun. He’s all dressed up in Ravenclaw gear, covered head to toe in a mountain of blue. You rarely attend Quidditch games unless Renjun drags your ass out there to watch.

“I don’t want to go today. Can’t you find someone else to come with you?”

“Nope. Only you,” he smiles. You’re not amused in the slightest bit. “Oh, I see. Is it because you don’t want to see Na Jaemin?”

“Jaemin and I are history, Renjun. Don’t need to dwell in the past.”

“You fucked him literally a month ago.”

You grab the nearest article of clothing near you and fling it at Renjun. Jisu grunts at the both of you.

“Holy fuck, I’m trying to study! Just go to the game and get the fuck out of our room!”

You grumble but listen to your roommate as she seems to grow more irate the longer Renjun stands in the doorway. He smiles in victory when you walk beside him to the Quidditch field. You ignore his glee while he babbles on about today’s game, wondering who’s going to reach victory.

You both find seats in the stands, and you feel embarrassed being here. After all, it was only a month ago when Jaemin fucked you in the Quidditch locker rooms. You managed to not get caught, but you wouldn’t hold it against Jaemin to tell the entire team what happened.

Jaemin wasn’t your boyfriend by any means. You two simply started to get closer this year and to release most of your frustration, you found yourself underneath him every once in a while. You ended it last month after Seojeong started to show an interest in dating him, and you didn’t want to interfere with the Hufflepuff’s advances. You haven’t spoken to Jaemin since then, only catching him eyeing you during Potions ever so often.

But now you see him as he mounts his broom, holding steady in the air as Slytherin’s Seeker. Your eyes are too focused on him to realize Donghyuck has been waving frantically for the last minute to try and get your attention.

Renjun elbows your side and you groan.

“What the fuck?”

He points to where Donghyuck is, just a few feet away from Jaemin in the air. You sigh and refuse to wave back at him, but Donghyuck still keeps his bright smile.

“Wouldn’t he be better as a commentator than a player?” You ask Renjun, knowing how fast Donghyuck can run his mouth.

“You’ll be surprised. Donghyuck’s really good. If I were on the team though, I think I would like to be Seeker,” Renjun muses.

You scoff. “Seeker? You can’t see for shit!”

You think Renjun’s about to murder you then and there, but the whistle is blown and the game sets in motion. He diverts his attention, cheering loudly for Ravenclaw.

As the game draws on, you see what Renjun means. Donghyuck is impeccably fast on his broom, whizzing by your Ravenclaw team to throw the Quaffle into one of the hoops. Your eyes widen and you lean over to Renjun.

“He’s pretty good.”

“I told you.”

You become mesmerized in the way Donghyuck zooms across the field, dodging any incoming bludgers and getting score after score for Slytherin. You would usually be focused on how Jaemin holds steady on his broom, trying to capture the Snitch.

You can’t take your eyes off Donghyuck’s figure, sweat dripping from his forehead as he eagerly throws the Quaffle into another hoop. Chenle, the commentator, praises him once again. You don’t even mind that your team is losing — Donghyuck seems determined to make them eat dirt.

You won’t lie either, he looks incredibly attractive like this.

“Fuck!” Renjun shouts in your ear. “Jaemin found the Snitch!”

It’s only mere seconds before Chenle declares victory for Slytherin, and the sea of green leaps up to cheer. Renjun grumbles, hanging his head in his hands as you laugh. The rest of Ravenclaw is just as dejected as him, filing out of the stands and mumbling about how no one can stop Donghyuck once he’s on the field.

“Come on, champ,” you encourage him, trying to pull the small boy up from his seat. Renjun sighs as he follows you and since you two are one of the last ones to leave the stands, you catch the Slytherin team leaving the locker rooms and bouncing with joy to go to their after party.

Donghyuck’s eyes light up when he sees you and you quickly try to detour, tugging Renjun along with you. Donghyuck calls out your name and you sigh, turning back around to face him. He looks like a dream if you’re being honest, fresh out of the showers and beaming at his victory.

“You came!”

You cough awkwardly. “Renjun dragged me here.”

“Impressive what you did out on the field,” Renjun nods in acknowledgment. You can only imagine how hard it was for him to choke out a compliment, considering Renjun hates when Ravenclaw loses.

Donghyuck nods back. He turns his attention to you. “Coming to the after party?”

“We’re not in Slytherin,” you mention, pointing to the blue colors both you and Renjun are wearing. “Plus, you just killed our Quidditch team’s reputation.”

He smirks. “True, but I’m sure no one cares if you’re from a different house as long as you celebrate. At least, I don’t care if you’re a Ravenclaw.”

Renjun clears his throat at Donghyuck’s attempt at flirting. He nudges your side when Jaemin leaves the locker rooms, his hair a newly dyed blonde as he combs his fingers through it.

You quickly grab Renjun’s wrist. “Um, we’ll decline. See you later!”

You both scurry away before Jaemin has a chance to see you, leaving Donghyuck flustered at your rejection. Jaemin comes up to swing his arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“Why are you still here? I thought you would be off to the party by now.”

Donghyuck sighs. “Tried my luck with Y/N but she just hates me.”

Jaemin freezes at the sound of your name. He coughs a little. “Are you talking about the Ravenclaw?”

Donghyuck nods and the two begin walking back to their common room. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to get her to open up to me but I guess she’s really not interested.”

“Um, do you know that we used to be a thing?”

Donghyuck fully stops in his tracks. “What?”

Jaemin looks extremely flustered now in front of his friend. “She kind of ended it a month ago. But we used to, um, be together all the time.”

“Be together how?” Donghyuck narrows his eyes.

“I don’t need to spell it out for you, Donghyuck.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “I think you do. As far as I know, Y/N barely has any friends as is so I find is unbelievable that she would open herself up to you.”

Jaemin flushes at the implication, recalling exactly how many times you’ve ‘opened up to him.’ He hasn’t caught any feelings for you and he knows it goes the same way around, but your friendship from before is completely broken. You two can barely be in the same room together without feeling the tension.

“You don’t know her very well then,” Jaemin remarks, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. He honestly didn’t know Donghyuck expressed an interest in you until now. “Let’s forget about what I said and have a good after party, okay?”

Jaemin tugs Donghyuck along but Donghyuck can’t stop thinking about you.

Specifically, you underneath the blonde boy, moaning and thrashing in his hold while Jaemin relentlessly pounds into your tight hole.

Fuck.

—

“Sorry, we’re saving this seat for- What the fuck?!”

Jeno and Yangyang are both floored by their friend’s new appearance, wide eyed as Donghyuck takes his seat next to them in the Great Hall. The Slytherin boy says nothing, diving into his breakfast without a word.

Jeno leans closer to him and whispers. “Who are you?”

Donghyuck glares at him. When he found out about you and Jaemin on Saturday, he had a little bit of a meltdown. His roommate, Shotaro, watched in confusion as Donghyuck paced back and forth for hours. Shotaro was even more befuddled when Donghyuck made the impulse decision to buy blonde hair dye, matching the same shade as Jaemin’s.

He didn’t expect to look so different, but with the way Jeno and Yangyang were staring at him, it was as if he became another person.

“I wanted to do something new,” Donghyuck shrugs, offering his explanation. The two of them are silent after that, both exchanging glances with one another.

Yangyang clears his throat after a few minutes. “Did you lose a dare?”

“No,” Donghyuck hisses. “What? Don’t I look good?”

Both of them avert their gaze and Donghyuck narrows his eyes. His stare wanders over to the Ravenclaw table, where you’re currently eating with Renjun and Jisu. His heart thumps in his chest while he watches you giggle at something your roommate said, leaning on her side for support. His trance is broken by the person he wants to see the least.

“Woah. What happened to you?”

Jaemin takes his seat next to Yangyang, eyebrows raised at Donghyuck’s new look.

“Nothing.”

His curt response makes Jaemin even more amused, and Jeno chuckles.

“Maybe Y/N likes blonde guys. Remember, Jaem? When you two were in the library and you said-“

Jaemin throws his fork at Jeno and hits him square in the forehead, causing the Hufflepuff to immediately glare and lunge for the Slytherin across the table. Yangyang tries his best to break the two up while Donghyuck’s mind drifts to Jeno’s statement.

The library? The place where you’re holed up all day, studying to get the best grades in every single subject? Did you let Jaemin take you against one of the bookshelves? Did you sit on his cock while you both pretended to read at the table.

Fuck. You were far from the good girl he always pictured you as.

Donghyuck stands wordlessly, ignoring Jeno and Jaemin’s squabble as he walks out of the Great Hall. He finds himself sitting at your table in the library, patiently waiting for your arrival. He doesn’t give a fuck about attending classes today, he needs to know the answers to his questions.

And so he waits. Surprisingly, he actually manages to get some studying done. Maybe the library wasn’t so bad.

He finally sees you during lunch period, watching as you walk in and smile softly at those who pass you. Your figure immediately retreats to the Potions section, and Donghyuck is quick to follow after you. He spots you standing on your tiptoes trying to grab one of the textbooks on the top shelf.

He approaches you with light footsteps, and you jump five feet in the air when you hear his voice.

“Did you do it here?”

“W-What?”

Donghyuck’s eyes are glazed over, dark as they scrutinize you. You feel small underneath his heavy gaze, and you try to ignore the beam of pleasure that shoots straight to your core. You almost didn’t recognize him with his newly dyed hair, and you won’t deny that he looks fucking hot.

He takes a step closer to you, trapping your body between him and the bookshelf. You shudder when he runs his finger down your arm.

“Did you lift your skirt up for Jaemin here? Let him take you in public?”

You gulp, avoiding his eyes. “H-How do you know about that?”

He growls, and the sound causes a gush of wetness to seep out of your core. “So it’s true? Little Ravenclaw princess is nothing but a common whore? Pretends to be all studious but ends up getting railed for everyone to see?”

You whimper. “It’s not like that- I-“

Your voice catches in your throat when his hand drifts up the expanse of your thighs, fingers dangerously close to your dripping cunt. You quickly survey the area, afraid someone will see the both of you. Most students are eating lunch in the Great Hall but there are still a select few who have chosen their studies over meals. When you did this with Jaemin, it was well past curfew and the library was completely empty.

Despite the fact that you could get caught at any time, it only makes you want him more.

“Touch me, please,” you beg, gripping his forearm.

His eyebrows shoot up at your immediate compliance. “You really are just a little slut, aren’t you? So fucking needy. Before this, you wouldn’t even give me the time of day. You’re just that desperate, aren’t you? Want your small pussy to be filled?”

You quickly nod, way past the point of preserving your dignity.

He flips you over, pressing your cheek against the wood. You whine when his fingers run over your clothed slit.

“So wet, baby,” he whispers, trying his best to conceal your garbled moans with his hand. “Is this for me? Or for Jaemin?”

“For you,” you choke out. “For you, Hyuck.”

He groans at the nickname, moving your panties aside and pushing a finger into you. Your mouth opens in a silent cry as your fingers dig into the shelves. Donghyuck’s breath is hot and heavy in your ear, and he can’t believe you’re letting him take you like this. He wonders what would happen if word got around to your father, who would fail Donghyuck in Potions for sure.

He doesn’t really care at this point, especially when your warm walls are clenching around his finger.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, pushing another digit inside. “Want to see you fall apart, baby.”

His other hand comes up to tug at your hair so he can see your expression. You already look completely fucked out and he’s barely done anything to you. He knows he doesn’t have a lot of time before the next period starts, so he quickly moves to unbuckle his belt. His fingers slip out of you and you cry at the loss.

You get more excited at the sound and he chuckles. “Dreamed about this for years,” he whispers. “This pussy is mine now, baby. Won’t let anyone else have it.”

You feel his tip prodding at your entrance, and he waits for your go-to. You decide to slip it in yourself, reaching to grasp his base and push back on his cock. He’s thicker than you thought, and the stretch fills you whole.

Once Donghyuck realizes how desperate you really are, his hands fly to your hips, bottoming out inside you. You both groan lowly, his length pressing against your sweet spot.

He’s about to start thrusting until he hears voices approaching. You both start to panic, and Donghyuck quickly directs you to grab a book from the top shelf while he rearranges his robes. To anyone else, it looks like Donghyuck is helping you grab a book, maybe just a little closer than normal.

Three Hufflepuff students pass by, heading to the History of Magic section of the library. They pay no attention to you two, and Donghyuck sighs in relief. You, however, are still wanting a nice fuck.

You whine and clench around his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he hisses. “We almost got caught but you don’t care, do you?”

You shake your head and he chuckles lowly. He resumes fucking you, trying his best to keep his grunts to a minimum. It’s difficult, especially when the sound of his balls slapping against your ass increases in volume.

His hands move around your middle, pulling you closer to his chest. “Please,” you beg.

“Baby wants to cum?” You frantically nod and he laughs breathily. His fingers grip your breast over your tight button up shirt, tilting your head so he can kiss you. His tongue slips into your mouth and you whine, driving closer and closer to the edge.

You fall before you know it, Donghyuck trying to keep you quiet as you orgasm around him. The feeling of you creaming around his cock brings him waves of pleasure, and he tries to pull out of you until you stop him.

“Inside,” you plead.

He short circuits at your request, mind going blank. He cums without warning, shooting ribbons of his cum deep inside your waiting womb. You moan at the feeling of him filling you up.

When you both come to, he kisses your neck.

“You’re such a dream,” he mumbles. “Can you stop ignoring me now?”

You laugh. He helps you look presentable, pulling your panties back on even though his cum leaks out of your hole. He rearranges your skirt and tucks himself back into his pants.

You turn around and kiss him.

“You’re really hot when you play Quidditch.”

He smirks. “I knew it.”

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes. Then, your voice grows small. “Can we do this again tonight?”

He grins. He wraps an arm around your waist and presses his lips to yours again.

“Are you mine? Not Jaemin’s?”

You scoff. “I just let you cum inside me. I never let Jaemin do that.”

His eyes sparkle. “Good girl.”

(bonus scene because i’m horny)

“Where are you going?”

Jisu raises an eyebrow at you as you grab one of the candles from your nightstand, ready to meet Donghyuck. You shrug and smile at her.

“Getting some good dick.”

She giggles and winks at you. “Sounds fun. Be safe!”

You slip out of your room quietly, trying your best to be as silent as possible. You’ve snuck out many times before after curfew, being able to tell your Ravenclaw prefects that you desperately needed to cram some extra studying in. They all thought you wouldn’t receive any major discipline anyways since your father was the Potions professor.

You sneak into the Slytherin common room, using the password Donghyuck gave you earlier. The Slytherin prefects were both asleep on the ground, as expected.

Donghyuck waited for you on the sleek emerald couch, smiling as he spotted you. He patted his thighs so you could take your seat, and you giggled, placing the candle on the table and sitting in his lap.

“Missed me?” He murmured, wrapping his arms around you and pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

“Saw you like two hours ago.”

He frowns. “And you haven’t missed me since then?”

You roll your eyes and whine. “Hurry. Want your cock.”

“Will you let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“If you win the next Quidditch game.”

He smirks. “Deal.”

You quickly move to unbuckle his belt, sinking to your knees as he watches you carefully. You moan when his cock springs up, tip bright and red. He’s heavy in your hand when you take him, licking a stripe up from his base to the tip. He groans when you bring his head into your mouth, sucking gently.

Holy fuck. You deepthroat him in no time, sinking down on his cock until you choke. He watches with hazy eyes as you struggle to suck him, his length filling your windpipe.

“Too big for you, baby? Can’t handle my big cock?”

You shake your head in defiance. You start bobbing your head up and down, determined to give him the best blowjob of his life. Donghyuck’s eyes dart up when he hears the sound of a door creaking, locking eyes with Jaemin. You haven’t heard anything — too preoccupied with sucking his dick.

Jaemin’s eyes widen when he spots you two before he smiles, throwing Donghyuck a wink and a thumbs up. He retreats back to his room and Donghyuck can’t take the wait any longer.

“Hands and knees.”

You pull away from him, spit dribbling down the side of your mouth. You follow his orders, pulling down your pajama pants and bending over the side of the couch. He delivered a harsh slap to your cheek, and you whimper.

“Pretty girl,” he praises as he lines himself up to your entrance. “Little cock hungry cumslut. What would people say if they saw you? Good Ravenclaw desperate for cum?”

“Want them to see me,” you blubber. “Want them to see how well I take your cock.”

He grunts. “Fuck. Dirty little minx.”

He practically rips your panties in half, fingers digging into your flesh as he takes the first thrust. Is it even possible that his cock grew bigger? He’s hitting your sweet spot with no problem from this angle, sending sparks flying in your tummy. You swear you can feel him in your throat if it was possible.

“Take my cock, baby,” he hisses. “Fuck. See what I do for you? Been chasing after you for years thinking you were a little innocent schoolgirl but turns out I just needed to give you my cock and then you would be all mine. Even dyed my hair to this stupid fucking color for you.”

“I-I like y-your hair,” you cry.

“Yeah? Because it looks just like Jaemin’s, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t give a fuck about Jaemin. Only want you.”

He’s satisfied by your answer and moves his hand down to pinch your clit. The sensation sends you flying into your first orgasm and you sob as you cum around his cock.

He slips out of you, sitting down on the couch and patting his thighs again. “Come on. Show me how much you want it.”

Shakily, you rise and straddle Donghyuck’s hips, slowly sinking down on him. His girth stretches you even more as you ride him, twisting and turning your hips until you feel the burn. You don’t care if you look like a needy slut at this point — he’s made you this way.

You never fucked Jaemin with this much fervor, usually letting him lazily thrust into you before you both reach your climax. He also never stared at you the way Donghyuck is looking at you now, eyes dark as he watches you fall apart on his cock.

“Gonna cum again, baby?”

“Y-Yes,” you answer back, closing your eyes as you feel pleasure overtake your body. You can barely think straight as he fucks you so good.

You orgasm again before you fully realize it, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto his cock.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he groans. “Where do you want my cum?”

“Inside, inside,” you respond, observing as he chases his own high. He stills inside of you, cumming deep inside your tummy.

You kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth while you feel his cum drip out of you.

“I better win that Quidditch game.”

You giggle. “You better.”

“What’s gonna happen if you get pregnant?”

You shrug. “I’m taking those muggle pills Jisu gave me so I think we’re fine. It’s not like it’s going to stop you from cumming inside me anyway.”

“True. Second round in the Astronomy Tower?”

“I can barely walk.”

“I’ll carry you.”

[luimagines]

Hi! First of all, I wanted to let you know that your writing makes my heart melt! All of your works are as funny as they are incredible, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with your blog!

If it’s okay to request, could you write something about the boys having to dance with the reader? And when they do, they start to catch feelings for the reader but don’t realize it? If it’s okay, of course ♡ have a good day!! And please, take all the time you need if you write it!

Masterlist

If I had a nickel for every time some one requested a detailed scenario where you can dance with Link, I'd have two nickels.

Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

I should have known there were those who yearn. (And I listened to the song you referenced anon, and it's nice but I personally like Sam Smith's version better.)

But yes, I'll see what I can do.

Part 1 will include Warrior, Sky and Four

Content under the cut!

Warrior

Warrior wasn’t sure why the princess thought that throwing a party for the hero was considered a good thing.

Or at least not without warning them about it first.

He supposed she was just excited to invite heroes of the ears into her home and wanted them to feel that at least their efforts were appreciated.

But he hated this.

And Link knew he wasn’t the only one to think so if the looks of his companions were anything to go by.

But even as he makes his rounds amongst the elite, the fake and the genuine, he tried to make sure that his friends were at least have a comfortable time. He wanted them to know that they didn’t have to keep a face like he did amongst this group so if they wanted to have fun and dance and eat then they could.

They were guests in his home as well.

But no matter where he looked and no matter how many rounds he made, he noticed that were nowhere to be found.

Confused, he ventured outside the venue.

And as he looking for you, he just sees a silhouette against the moon light on top of one of the decorative rocks out in the middle of the rose bush maze.

There was no one else around and then again the guards and people were too drunk and joyful to notice someone breaking the ground rules of conduct or if they noticed, they simply did not care.

He makes his way toward the shadow and stalls for a moment when you look his way.

The way the light hit your frame seemed delicate and ethereal with an otherworldly glow to your hair and skin. The royal purple garb they gave you as a gift for not having anything suitable to wear to the party hugged your curves and angles in all the right ways. Someone must have offered you some jewelry to go with it because he doesn’t remember you having the gold necklace and matching head piece that pulls your hair back into a crown of curls tat frame your face in a divine manner.

Link found himself unable to breath for a second.

You smile and say, “I’m just taking in some air.”

“Not enjoying the party?” He blurts, worried for a moment that you’ve been uncomfortable this entire time... by yourself.... away from everyone.... just sitting in the darkness with the sounds of music and laughter in the background.

“It felt weird to be at a heroes party when I myself- am not a hero.” You shrug and lean back casually on the rock. “Here to drag me back Capitan?”

Warrior blinks and registers the change of pace in the music and will deny to the end of his life where he found the nerve to do what he does next.

He smoothly places the his cup of lightly bubbled alcohol on one of the lower rocks and holds out his hand to you. “Dance with me. Just once.”

You blink and also tune into the music behind the two of you.

It��s a slow dance.

You gradually smile and reach out to him, pulling yourself from the rocks surface and into his arms. “Just one dance.”

Warrior tries to hide the gulp that threatens to noticeably bob his Adam’s apple and places his hands on your waist and holds your hand respectfully. “Have you danced before?”

“Technically.” You answer and place your own hands in his and on his shoulder, pulling yourself closer to him. “I while I know how to dance with the elite, it’s just never been my scene.”

“I know how you feel.” Warrior takes the leads and guides you through the steps of the song. He’s been through countless hours of training for battle- and not those that end in bloodshed- but those that take place in the ball room with the nobles and high end society that would have one looked at him scorn and distaste.

He doesn’t blame you for wanting to get away.

But he does want you to enjoy yourself... if only a little bit.

The steps come naturally to him and he takes a moment to spin you around before you trip over your own feet.

A small giggle escapes your lips as you twirl and send the fabric billowing around you.

Warrior is struck stupid by the sight and almost steps off beat with the music. He’s quick to correct himself but he seemed to have your laughter on his mind on repeat.

“I’d stay out here with you if I could.” He admits as he repositions himself against you, trying to lead you away from the rose thorns and the maze itself so neither of you get caught up in it. “But unfortunately my disappearance won’t go unnoticed for long.”

“Oh...” You blink and look up into his eyes. “I suppose you really only have time for one dance, huh?”

He’s unprepared by how disappointed you sound and it would appear so are you with how quick you try to cover it up.

“It’s fine! You’re an important figure here, I guess it’s only natural that every one would want your attention. I hope you enjoy the party though. Unlike me, you deserve the recognition.” You smile genuinely but your eyes look like they’re trying to get some unknown message across.

“If I can somehow get away again-” Warrior rushes to keep your smile there and to include you in the collective joy the party was supposed to bring. “-Will you save another dance for me?”

You hum and tap you finger to you chin in thought. “It hasn’t been that bad being out here by myself...”

Warrior really hopes that you let him dance with you again even when you pull apart to the end of the music. 

But you grin and reach up to boop his nose with the same finger. “Alright soldier boy, since you asked so nicely I’ll save the last dance just for you.” 

Warrior laughs a little breathlessly and has to force himself to step away from you. He hopes to any and all who can hear them that’s he’s not actually blushing right now. “Ok. I’ll be back then.”

“I’ll be waiting.” 

Sky

Sky was sure that every one was having a great time. 

The music was loud and energetic and his friends were all off doing their own thing while the festival was in full motion.

It was a celebration for the people’s loftwings since it was usually the time of the year that they left their rider’s side- presumably to go lay their eggs for the next generation of riders.

But it was all fun and games for everyone involved.

Wind and Four seemed to be in a highly competitive match of toss the sack with Twilight being the point keeper on the other end. Wild and Hyrule were busy enjoying the food and no doubt collecting the recipes (Sky was hoping that Wild would make the food so he was no way inclined to stop him). Time and Warrior were off in a corner, talking to each other with a cup in each of their hands. Legend stood next to them without a cup but he seemed to be more interested in the décor and loftwings themselves.

But you...

Sky stopped walking along the ribbon perimeter and looked over to you.

You were by yourself... You didn’t particularly happy..

And that just won’t stand.

With subtle determination, he marches over to you and taps your shoulder.

You seem to blink back into the present and raise an eyebrow to him in return.

He can see the question on your lips just as you’re about to say it so he juts his head into he direction of the dance area with a simple hand out in your direction.

He hopes his intentions are clear.

You eye his hand and snap your mouth shut with a soft click. Sky gulps  suddenly, a strange bout of nervousness attempting to choke his system as you take your time to think about his offer.

Sky would never force you to do something that you don’t want to do but really (and he has no idea where this urge comes from) wants to dance with you.

Just once.

Just once to see you smile and enjoy yourself.

To see you happy.

You place your hand in his, soft and small and so much different than his own. “Lead the way, Boy Wonder.”

You smile and he returns your gesture, gently pulling you toward the open area as the next song starts. It’s light and airy and it’s enough to keep you moving even if you both stall for a minute to just sway side to side in each others arms.

Sky didn’t know that he’d feel so whole and accomplished by just holding you.

Emboldened by the tune of the events, Sky takes a step back and twirls you around as the music flows up and down again just in time to bring you back into his arms.

You laugh. “Perfect timing.”

“I do try.” Sky winks.

You giggle to yourself with a small shake of your head but you keep swaying with Sky across the dance floor.

The music comes to an end and Sky does his best gentleman’s bow as he lets go of you completely- even if he finds that he doesn’t want to. “An absolute honor to dance with you.”

The music starts up again in a similar tune but all he would have to settle for is just one dance. It’s all he’s comfortable with asking from you. 

“Sky wait.” You blurt.

He turns around to see that... well you seemed to have startled yourself as well.

“I um..” You bite your lip and vaguely gesture to the musicians in the distance. “They’re not done.”

Sky smirks a little. “But the song is.”

“I uh... Just one more dance?” You hold your hand out to him this time and he stares in shock.

Not for long though.

He’s quick to place his hand in your and pull himself back to you. “I’d love to.”

Four

Four was excited to show everyone around the Festival of Fools. It was his favorite time of the year where everyone got to be silly and destress and play and eat and dance.

Four had always run around trying to do what he could never get away with on a typical day but right now he had to make sure his traveling companion didn’t actually burn the town down.

He loved them but he’d lying if he said that he wasn’t just the tiniest concerned over their facial expressions when he said that anything goes really- no laws but those of the people apply today.

Which made him the temporary babysitter for some of the more rowdy ones.

But he had lost sight of you a while ago.

Not that he was concerned or anything but... He did want to spend time with you.

The festival doesn’t happen everyday and he knew that there would only be so many days left that he’d be able to spend with the group and even less so that they’d be given a chance to relax and unwind.

That thought urged him forward to find you.

If only to make sure that you were having a good time.

He had found you by the food court where you munched on a meat stick and watched as the people came and go.

You looked bored.

Now Four knew that parties weren’t entirely your scene and you weren’t the kind of person to go and throw yourself into the middle of it all.

That being said it still rubbed him the wrong way when you looked like you would rather be anywhere but there.

 He oughta do something about it.

Just across the street a band had begun playing music for the people to dance to, now that they’ve usually had their fill for lunch.

Four saw you look over and smile, basking in the edges of their amplified joy and amusement.

He grinned and ran over to you, tugging your hand into his own and pulling you close to him. “Dance with me!”

“Wha- Four? Where’d you come from?” You dropped the finished stick in shock and followed him as he dragged you to the open space just beyond the food cart.

“I live here.” He laughed and spun you around. “Just one dance!”

“I- but- Four!” You dug your heels into the dirt and stopped the both of you from reach the destination. “I can’t dance! I- I’ve never danced.”

Four turns to look at you and smiles encouragingly. “Just let loose, it’s easy. There’s no right way to move, you just do. Just feel the music and my lead.”

You bite your lip and Four takes the moment of hesitation to pull you forward again. you let him and soon find yourself on a dirt arena with lively music and people all around you.

“Don’t let go of my hand ok?” Four grins.

You find yourself grinning as well and soon you’re both spinning and jumping and leaping and twirling around each other to the beat of music.

It’s fast and fun and within moments on simply holding onto Four you find yourself laughing uncontrollably as he throws you around like a rag doll in which ever way he likes.

He’s stronger than you imagined him to be but then again... He’s a blacksmith.

It shouldn’t be all that surprising.

Somehow in the midst of it, he throws you in the air and over his head, catching you in a spin and letting you catch your breath and the music dies down and another begins.

“You ok?” Four asks, a little breathless himself. He doesn’t think he’s heard you laugh so hard or for so long.

It’s nice.

“That was fun!” You managed to say in between your giggles.

Four’s grin widened and even if he knows it’s not your style.... and he only asked for one, he holds his hand out again just in time for the next crescendo to begin.

You look up and look at him and his hand...

You don’t hesitate to put your hand in his and he pulls you close to him again.

You spin and laugh and jump and twirl well into the night, completely forgetting about the others until you have to turn in for the night.

Four’s feet hurt by the end of it and he’s exhausted but to see and hear you smile and laugh and enjoy yourself in what is arguably his favorite time of year was completely worth it.

He hopes that he can spend more time with you... He hopes for just one more dance before it all ends.

Part 2

[nat-20s]

fill of @jonmartinweek day 6 prompt- flirting AND jealousy, though much heavier on the jealousy than the flirting. Set in a classic “season 5 jmart time travel bac to season 1″ au

~*~

“Mr. Blackwood-Sims, if I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re trying to proposition me.”

“Mr. Sims-Blackwood, I would never. For one, neither of us are inclined towards those sorts of activities, for second, we’re both married men. What would my husband say?”

“I believe your husband would say he never specified exactly what you were propositioning, and he would be more than amenable to kissing, preferably sometime in the next few seconds.”

“Mmm, suppose I’ll have to find him and take him up on that, then. If that’s really how he feels.”

“Trust me, it most certainly is.”

Christ, would those two shut up already? Granted, it’s late enough that they probably think they’re alone in the archives, but, still. This is, technically, a work place, and Jon would’ve preferred not to have accidentally gotten an eyeful as he made his way past the open door in the breakroom. Now, the image of (supposedly) a future version of himself sitting on the couch, with (supposedly) a future version of Martin straddling his legs, using one hand to cup his face, and the other to run his hands through that Jon’s longer hair, was seared into his mind, and he hated it. Look, contrary to what people who don’t know him very well seemed to believe, he’s hardly a prude. He’s more than fine with descriptions of physical intimacy, as well as public displays of affection. If he’s being honest with himself, deep down, he doesn’t even care all that much about professionalism, especially considering it is after hours.

But of course, he’s not being honest with himself, because then he’d have to admit that it bothers him that it’s them. He doesn’t know what to call the acrid burning in the pit of his stomach, the too tight ache in his chest, that’s present whenever the fun house mirror versions of himself and Martin are besotted with each other, but he knows it’s there. It doesn’t help that he’s the only one that seems to be bothered by it, the only one that frowns at the flash of wedding rings or the orbit those two always seem to occupy around each other.

Or, no, he’s not the only one. Occasionally, while witnessing the two of them being...the Two of Them, he can’t help glancing over to Martin. Lo and behold, Martin also doesn’t look thrilled about all of this, usually skewing more towards confusion or, oddly enough, resignation. At least, that’s what Jon thinks he sees there, it’s one of the few times where he can’t fully get a read on Martin.

Still, as much as Martin might share in being somewhat perturbed, as anyone who meets their “future selves” should be, Martin doesn’t seem nearly as upset as Jon is. That brings him back to his current predicament of feeling that level of upset, but not being able to determine the root cause of it.

It is not that he’s jealous. It’s not! He does not feel a pang of envy at seeing someone who looks extremely similar to himself loving openly, and being openly loved in return. He doesn’t find his thoughts drifting to the imagined feeling of lips pressed to his temple or arms around his waist or fingers running through his hair. He certainly hasn’t looked down at his left hand and been disappointed by the fact that its bare. He doesn’t even want those things, as he’s been telling himself for a number of many lonely years. One of these days he might even believe it.

Fine. Fine. Maybe, but only maybe, there’s a part of him that’s jealous. Maybe there’s even a part of him that despairs, because try as he might he can’t connect point A to point B, can’t see the steps he would have to take to be like that other version of himself, and he knows his Martin (well, not his Martin, but..) will never look at him like that, will never see him in that light. And, damn it all, it hurts, so if they could kindly stop ru-

Oh. Wait. He can’t hear them outside his office door anymore. Huh, perhaps they-

“Knock knock.”

Startled out of his...contemplation, Jon looks up to find himself looking back. Sims is leaning against the door-frame, with mussed hair, swollen lips, and pupils blown wide. Jon loathes him and wishes to be him in equal measure. In a move he usually would’ve thought more characteristic of Tim, Sims doesn’t wait for a response, instead sitting himself across from Jon and saying, “Figured you’d still be here.”

Trying not to sound too much like he’s speaking through gritted teeth, Jon asks, “Did you now?”

Sims gives a lackadaisical shrug. “With any luck, you’re not going to become me. I not sure you can become me, at this point, diverging paths and all that. However, we do share the first 28 years of our lives, and I certainly didn’t believe in the concept of a work life balance, so why would you?”

“Is there something you wanted?”

“Yes, actually. I want you to ask out Martin, your moping is getting insufferable, and considering how much of our misery has been entirely outside of our control, you shouldn’t put up with what is in your power to fix.”

Jon blinks. Jon processes. Jon stammers. “I-what?! I am not, you can’t just-. Martin doesn’t even like me, and if you really were the same person as me, you know I’m not all that keen on him either.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you can’t stop thinking about his hands?”

“I do no-”

Sims puts a hand up in surrender, though the smirk doesn’t entirely drop. “Sorry, sorry, I know that’s rather unhelpful. What I mean is, you’re already loved, right now, as you are. No, that love is not coming from Martin, but it could be,t because he doesn’t dislike you.  He doesn’t know you, because you have done everything in your power to make sure he doesn’t. You also don’t know him, even though you’re interested in him, because you’ve been trying not to be. It’s stupid. Get to know each other. It’ll probably work out.”

“I...is that how you did it? Because this seems like an objectively terrible idea.”

Sims snorts. “God, no. It took a coma before I was able to untangle my own feelings. The whole point is that you won’t have to take the same looping, painful path that I did.”

Jon wants to reject it outright, almost does, and yet. “Fine.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really. Why?’

“Nothing, just. We’re usually a more stubborn on these sorts of things. I was expecting more of a fight.”

“Mm. Normally, I would be, but I’ve been forced to watch two rather obvious proof of concepts waltzing around in front of me, and agreeing will hopefully get you the hell out of my office.”

Sims studies him for a moment, then a surprised smile spreads on his face. “All right then.”

Jon makes a dismissive hand wave, and Sims obliges, and he spends the rest of the night trying not to think about what he’s agreed to.

~*~

The next day, about half an hour before the end of the work day, Jon calls Martin into his office. From his tight shoulders and carefully blank expression, it’s clear Martin very much does not want to be there. Great. This is going to go so well.

Jon gestures for him to sit, Martin does, and he dives in. “As we both now know, I don’t have the ability to fire you. In all reality, even though I am, on paper, your boss, I truly don’t have any power or authority over you.”

Martin leans back in his seat, letting a heavy pause fall between them before saying a stilted, “Okay?”

“So, I want you to know that I am about to ask you a question, and you have complete freedom and choice over your response, without fear of any negative consequences. Alright?”

“Um. Sure.”

Jon takes a breath, slowly lets it out, and bites the bullet. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?”

Martin stares. Then he squints. Then he studies. “Oh. Jon, you...we’re not them, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“So..why?”

Jon lets out a sigh, and tries to gather his thoughts in a way that makes sense to either of them. “Well, though I myself have some trouble with the concept, they’re not..entirely removed from who we are, and there’s enough foundation there that I have reason to believe we might...get on? Maybe we don’t, maybe we end up being friends, maybe we end up like them. That’s already enough to pique my own curiosity, but, alternate future versions of us aside, I mostly would just like to get to know more about you, and I’m hoping you might like to get to know me better as well.”

Martin’s shoulders relax, and he chews on his bottom lip for a moment before replying, “Okay. Yeah, why not?”

“Oh. Oh! Great! Does this Saturday work for you?”

“Works perfectly. Let’s give a shot.”

The first date is..fine. A Bit of a mess, but fine. The second date, however, is the best Jon’s ever been on. It’s so wonderful, in fact, that he doesn’t even mind when he catches Blackwood passing a fiver to Sims the day he can’t stop smiling at work.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Back when things were still easy, Billy and Max used to have sibling days on the weekends when Neil wouldn’t be home, setting aside their issues to have just one day that was meant for doing something fun together.

The tradition had been dropped after the move to Hawkins, and Max thinks that’s where a lot of the strain on their relationship comes from. Without those designated times to let go of some of the tension building between them, they fall to pieces.

There’s one day in particular where it’s just Max at home all by herself, her mother and Neil having gone on a trip to the city she opted out of, when Billy shows up much earlier than he said he would be back, ruining the calm when he slammed the front door so hard a picture frame fell off the wall.

Neither of them say a word to the other, all she gets is an apologetic and glossy looking glance for the noise as he storms past her like she isn’t even there.

She doesn’t see Billy again for a long time after that, just hears the angry music blaring in his room. By now, she’s wisened up enough to know that meant he was probably crying in there, and though she doesn’t know what happened, she feels bad.

It’d been far too long since they acted anything like real siblings, not that they were actually related, but they used to be just as close, so after her brother’s been brooding for literal hours, she knows she wants to do something.

Her opportunity to bring it up comes when Billy makes his grand appearance at her door, stopping by to ask if she ate dinner just so he, quote ‘wouldn’t get any shit for it.’ She nods in agreement and asks, “Do you know what day it is, Billy?”

He shrugs, “28th of June.”

“Well, doy, but it’s also Friday.” Billy raises an eyebrow, missing the point, and Max rolls her eyes. “Friday. You know, like, the one day we get to hang out.”

Too cool for that stuff anymore apparently, he scoffs and leans against the doorframe, and she just knows he’s going to say something snarky, so she turns the puppy dog eyes up a notch, “Please? It’ll be fun.”

It works, Billy sighs way over dramatic and steps into her room, throwing himself down onto her beanbag chair. She can’t contain the smile on her face when he asks with fake defeat, “What did you want, shitbird?”

“I want a makeover day. Like we used to do.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Why?” She crosses her arms, “Just because that’s what I want to do?”

He fixes her with a look that says ‘seriously?’, and explains, an edge of frustration to his voice, “No, because you know what’ll happen if I’m struttin’ around in nail polish and shit when Neil gets back.”

“They’re not supposed to come back until like, Monday though,” in response to her excuses, he mimics her in crossing his arms over his chest, so she tries harder to reason with him, “And we can always just take it off when we’re done.”

“That’s just a waste of your stuff, then.”

“Come on, Billy, please?” she’s out of actual arguments and he’s winning, so she brings out the big guns, the little sister privilege, the one surefire way she knows will always knock her brother off guard, “I miss you.”

He squints at her, seeing through the attempted guilt trip, but he can’t muster a frown, and he must know it wasn’t all fake, because he says, “Whatever.”

She knows that’s his version of a yes and he’s just too proud to admit he caved, so she squeals and claps her hands together, taking off like a shot to dig under her bed for the stowed away beauty kit. It’s a little wicker basket filled to the brim with nail polish and makeup, the same one they’d used years ago before everything went wrong, and it makes her happy, bringing the old thing back out.

She stops to put a record in her player, choosing Queen as the closest thing to a middle ground between their respective music tastes, they at least both weren’t supposed to listen to it, and drops down into the other chair beside Billy.

On the latch-hook rug in front of them, she starts to empty the basket, lining up all her brightly colored bottles of nail polish, slightly dried out after months of not using them. “What color?”

“Why do I have to go first?” Billy asks. All Max has to say in response is a know-it-all “Because I said so.”

“Fine. You pick.” The moment he says it he looks like he regrets it, Max is notoriously bad at making decisions, but she ignores him and starts holding up bottles anyways.

First, after few minutes deliberation, she chooses a pretty dark green, and he scrunches his nose and doesn’t say anything. She picks a purplish color, which he tosses away on the bed, a very firm ‘no’ that makes Max giggle. Then she gives him a bright orange bottle, and he holds in front of his face, studying it before turning that one down too.

“God, if I knew you’d be so annoying I would’ve just painted them all the colors.” She remarks, lining up her polishes so she could do just that.

“That’s actually probably not a very good idea, kiddo.” Looking a little panicked, he digs through the bottles himself, settling on one he pulls away and stares at for a second before handing it to her and telling her, “Just do ‘em red.”

It confuses her, but she agrees regardless, and makes him turn in his seat so he’s facing her and his hands are flat on the floor. His hands are a little shaky, so her paint job isn’t the best, she even drips some on the carpet, which she hopes her mother won’t notice, but Billy doesn’t say anything about the mess.

With his nails done she moves onto his hair, she wants to do double braids like how he taught her to do in her own hair, so she shoves his arm to get him to turn around. “Scoot.”

He lets her push him around until he’s in the right place that she can reach his hair, but once he’s facing the far wall he tells her, “Don’t you dare use that brush on my hair, Maxine.”

“Jeez, relax. I’m not gonna mess up your princess curls.” She mocked, but she still went for the comb to run through his hair instead.

She waited until she could get it through without catching on any tangles before bothering trying to talk to him. When Billy was upset, he tended to clam up, but she didn’t particularly like feeling awkward in the silence, leaving all the talking to the record player. “Can we talk about why you were mad earlier?”

“Nope.”

“Would you tell me if I told you about my day?” She tries, but he shuts it down again with an “Unlikely.”

“I’ll tell you anyways.” Max didn’t know what had happened with Billy, but she knew she hadn’t had the greatest morning herself either. “I had to ask Lucas to bring me home early because me and Mike got in a fight.”

Billy snorted, and spoke with just as much sarcasm as Max had used on him. She learned that from him anyways. “You and Mike? No.”

“Yeah. He was being a total ass about El, trying to like, own her or something, so I told him to lay off ‘cause that’s totally not fair.”

She knew that Billy, having graduated and turned 18 now, was probably getting a little old for this type of drama, but he was a good listener, no matter how much he pretended not to care, always giving little bits of insight and saying things to make her laugh.

She continues, “Well, anyways he like, totally bit my head off for sticking up for her, so then I told him he was just a miserable mouth breather who’s jealous of El being happy, and he tried to kick me out.”

Billy laughed at that, muttering a little ‘ow’ when the action made Max pull his hair, “But you left before he could kick you out right?”

“Duh.” She sighs a little, the fun part of the story over. “Then when we pulled up outside, Lucas said something stupid about it being my fault or whatever, so I dumped him again.”

“Good. I told you not to take any shit from them anymore.” Billy had been less than happy with her friends a lot recently, when she’d come home from school or from hanging out upset over something they said. They never meant to hurt her feelings, but Billy didn’t like it all the same, and made her promise she’d stand up for herself a little more. Like she did to him.

“Yeah, I guess.” It makes her feel light on the inside, to know Billy was proud of her for following his advice, in his own way at least. “So? What happened to you?”

He shrugs again, and blows her off, “It’s nothing.”

“You were crying.”

“Yeah, and it’s none of your business.”

“Maybe not,” she fumbles with the braid and loses it, Billy’s stupid uneven mullet making it way too hard to braid so many different lengths of hair, “But I’m like, an expert now. El says she likes my advice.”

Under his breath, Billy mutters, “‘Course she does.”

Max purses her lips and pretends she didn’t hear that before continuing her offer, “Anyways, I can always try to help.”

“Listen, it’s just stupid dating stuff. Nothin’ you need to be worrying about.”

“But I’m a girl. I can give advice about that.” She thinks about it for a second, “I mean, I know more about being a girlfriend than having one, but it’s probably about the same.”

“Maybe.” Billy mumbles, focusing all his attention on picking at the nail polish that had missed the edges of his nails, and just from the way he tensed up she can tell she’d overstepped Billy’s boundaries in some way or another.

She finishes of the braid she had already started over twice now and puts a blue scrunchie on the end of it, giving him a minute.

When she starts combing out the rest of his hair is when Billy speaks again, not a drop of his distinctly Billy attitude in his words as he admitted softly, “You know, shitbird, I never said anything ‘bout having a girlfriend.”

That’s confusing to her at first, because he had just told her it was a dating thing, but Max’d been hearing all the nasty things Neil said about Billy for years now, and while she might just be a kid, might be the clueless and annoying little sister, she still knew the weight of what he’d just admitted to her.

It had always made her sad, to know Neil didn’t really like Billy, all the mean words he used, ones she wouldn’t dare repeat, to describe Billy and his friends, all the lies he told about him behind his back. But she doesn’t buy it, what her asshole step-dad had to say.

Her brother was cool, and she liked hanging out with him, when he wasn’t being such a jerk. The fact that he had a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend didn’t change that in the least bit.

She hums, trying to gather words and, her voice strained against the outburst of happiness, says “See? I can totally help with boy stuff.”

[nekojuro]

Hello there :) I really LOVED your asl brothers headcanons + the fluffy sabo one

So we know the majority of the fandom headcanons Sabo as a not really jealous type of bf, but what if when he DOES get jealous, its quite a mess ? May I please request an angsty headcanon of this with a fluffy ending ? Female!S/O please,

Thank u ❤

hello, thank you for the request! y'all really love sabo and im in for it, as you should! im not really fond of making angst because i can't take myself seriously but i tried my best with my own version and I'm sorry if it's nothing like you requested. also, I can't imagine sabo in an angsty headcanon but feedbacks are highly appreciated! hope you enjoy it! genre: sfw | v light angst - fluff warning(s): f!reader, modern-day timeline note: not proofread and a really long one so I'm gonna call it a one-shot with headcanon format

JEALOUS SABO ONESHOT

as we all know, sabo is caring and patient. that being said, he doesn't really care about other people and respects those people around you. he's v rational and doesn't mind much those guys who have hots for you.

unless the same guy kept on hitting on you and gets under his skin while he's in a not-so-nice mood, all hell breaks loose.

okay, it's so rare for him to get jealous but when he does, you get lowkey intimidated and scared.

he's the silent treatment type of jealousy, he won't even look at you and let you touch him. he'll be so distant but will expect you to cling unto him and if you don't? he'll get sulky and impatient, he won't be able to stay still istg

he calms down with your scent tho

you know that well and the last time you had this issue was around half a year ago

because you're a dumb bitch who's too oblivious for your own good, it happened again.

sabo is waiting for you at his apartment and since you decided to go on a date tomorrow, you'll be spending a night there since sabo had been whining for the lack of time you've been together for this whole month. unfortunately, you're late because there was a company dinner and you forgot to text him that you'll be late since you thought it won't take an hour but here we are.

god, I'm so stupid! you thought

a co-worker offered to give you a ride home which you didn't refuse because of course, you want to be home as soon as possible. you thanked your office mate and when you were about to unlock the door, it opened and there you saw sabo in his pajamas-- a white shirt and gray sweatpants. he looks concerned and immediately grabs your bag and coat so you could remove your heels.

"I'm so sorry, love. there was a sudden company dinner but it only went for an hour because there's only 4 of us there anyways. have you eaten?" you explained while you walk towards the kitchen to get water.

"yes, did you eat well? there's a leftover if you're still hungry. who was with you anyways?" he curiously asked

"oh, the team manager and his wife then my desk mate. do you remember him? the one who gave me a bento cake last time?"

his forehead creased and you look at him for a second when you heard him clear his throat which you didn't pay much attention to.

"ah, okay. let's go to bed right after you wash up, we're leaving early tomorrow." he smiled at you but it didn't reach his eyes

still, you chose to shrug it off because he's been always like that whenever he's tired and sleepy.

you skipped lightly towards him to give him a hug and kiss which made him chuckle

he hugged you tightly and places his face to the crook of your neck when he stiffened under your touch.

nonetheless, you paid no mind and go on with the night since as he said, you'll be leaving early tomorrow and you just want to dive in the bed--wrapped in his arms.

when the morning comes, you woke up when you felt the other side of the bed--cold and empty. you immediately got up to get a cup of water while thinking that he might be watering the little plants he has.

you tied your hair before going out but instantly stopped in your tracks when you found him leaning at the main door, talking with your office mate.

"uhm? what's up?" you were so confused about what's happening but you can clearly see that sabo is not having fun while your office mate was smiling sheepishly.

you walked towards them that made sabo click his tongue which made you uneasy

"oh, I'm just passing by. i think you dropped this hairpin on my car last night." you mirrored his smile and lightly tuck in the little strands that fell on your face

you were about to reach for it when sabo grabbed it-- a little too hard-- that made you tense as you can feel his intense gaze even though he's not looking at you.

"yeah, thanks. you can go now." sabo blandly shooed him which made your eyes widen as you rush to pull him back and stand in front of him to face your co-worker.

"h-hey! yeah, thank you so much! i didn't notice it but I appreciate it. well, see you at the office...i g-guess?" it was so hard for you to maintain a smile on your face when you can literally feel the heavy pressure of sabo's presence.

"oh, actually the manager announced that we're gonna have a one-day trip to osaka for screening of the new products at the group chat. she was looking for a volunteer and the team manager wanted you to c--"

"she's not available, can't you fucking see?" you almost yelped at the impact when sabo pulled you unto him that made you bump on his chest.

they were exchanging glares so you had to cut it off and apologize because you're not gonna volunteer for that, not when sabo is like this, you're better off dead than go with your team.

when you bid farewells to your co-worker and close the door, you can feel your stomach-churning. the moment he lightly pushes you to go back to his room, you knew this is gonna be a long day.

it's early in the morning and today is date day, what a bad timing to show up in front of sabo.

"love? hey..." you called out when you saw him in front of his study desk and laptop with glasses on. a sign that the date will get canceled.

you immediately go behind him and tried to touch his cheeks but he evaded it smoothly with attitude. you almost laughed but you know it's not the right time and you're not that stupid.

you tried different things but he just wouldn't accept anything right now so you decided to give up pestering him and took a shower instead. you can't allow this day to be a waste, if you have to drag him just to make the date happen--you will.

even after dressing up, he's still ignoring you but you know he's also aware of what're you doing because you can see his hands stop from typing whenever you make a move.

"love, I'm going out. you comin'?" trying a new approach, you asked but no reply.

you sigh heavily and head to the kitchen, you saw him shift around at the corner of your eyes when you opened the door.

pouring an orange juice into the mug and going back to his room, you placed it beside his laptop. your hands place on his shoulders for support, you take off one of his earpods.

"sabo, I'm going out for a while 'kay?" you stand straight after giving him a kiss on his cheeks.

but before you can even take a step, you're immediately pulled by him. standing between his parted legs as buries his face in your stomach. he's a little bit calmed down so it'll be easier to talk to him.

"you come back home late with another man's scent on you then the next day, they come knocking on my door. that fucking assho--"

you cut him off with a light slap on his head, "sabo, that's mean! don't act like i forgot your rudeness earlier." you warned

he looked up to you with a glare, "yeah, he earned it. are you siding with him?"

"no, love. you know you've been rude!" you raised a brow which he mirrored

"baby, I'm your boyfriend." he stated with his cheeks slightly puffed like that sentence will do its magic

you sighed, giving it up. i mean, it's partly your fault! you're just lucky this time because he's attention and touch starved-- that's why he's easy to submit.

"okay, okay. I'm sorry, I'll be careful from no--"

"as you should." he cuts you off with a sass

you squeezed his cheeks and kiss him on his nose and forehead, "c'mon, stop being a baby and get up. we're going to movies instead, my treat." you winked at him.

he instantly stands up and hugged you tightly while peppering you with kisses.

before closing the bathroom door, he looked back at you and flashes his infamous charming smile that made you chuckle.

"you look so good, love."

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. four.

three < current > five

March 2017

White Day is only a few days away when you begin to notice Rika’s form is absent from your training sessions lately. There shouldn’t be any reason for this, at least not one you’re aware of. Your class celebrated Yuta’s birthday just two days ago, and both the curse and cursed seemed fine, great even. You decide it’s best to bring this up casually - Yuta was still so skittish and Rika would be able to hear whatever you said anyways. So while you lead Yuta through a yoga session, you ask, “How’s Rika?”

He flusters and falls from his side-plank variation pose. The band he was using as an aid tangles around his calf. You debate and decide to leave him. If you touched him now, he might spontaneously combust. That thought makes you giggle a little. You move to change to a position that meant you weren’t looking at him. Hopefully, that’s less pressure.

Yuta speaks up when you’re fully downward dog, leading you to believe your plan worked. “She’s fine, yeah, fine. Just uh - tired?” You nod but inwardly roll your eyes. You shift your hips in to move to upward facing dog and make eye contact again.

“Just checking. I miss her hanging out, you know?” It’s obvious Yuta just lied, curses don’t get tired, but it’s better to not call him out this time. You just have to hope it wasn’t anything you did. “I know you fell but at this point you’re just slacking. Get back on your mat,” you say, changing the topic to something safe.

You’re back in downward facing dog when the door slides open. A familiar voice drawls, “Why are you still working out, dummy? Forgot our plans?” You scramble to your feet.

“Gumi!” You rush to hug him despite his obvious distaste. “What time is it? Do I still have time to shower or will we be late?”

Your little brother snorts and pushes you away, “Please do, you smell. You have,” he checks his watch, “fifteen minutes.”

“Gumi! That’s not enough time!” You yell, already sprinting towards the showers at the back of the gym. Yuta pouts at how quickly you seemed to forget his presence. That face doesn’t escape Megumi.

“So, you like my idiot sister?”

“W-what! No, no no no, it’s not like that! She just helps t-train me and -!” Yuta knows he’s rambling but he can’t seem to stop talking.

“Whatever,” Megumi has better things to worry about than repressed hormones. He's known that Yuta had a crush on you since the first time he came to campus to train with you after Yuta arrived. Your classmate couldn’t stop staring and seemed disheartened by the fact that you called Megumi by a shortened version of his given name. He had pouted until Satoru showed up and made a spectacle of ‘Team Gojo’ being all together again. Like you three didn’t, at minimum, have a weekly dinner together.

“If you ever want to acknowledge them, you’ll have to get approved by Satoru.” Yuta feels like he also needs the approval of this boy, but he leaves that unsaid. Just nods dumbly. Probably a good thing he didn’t respond, because you barrel through the doors you disappeared from.

When you rush past him, Yuta gets a strong whiff of the floral scent he’s come to associate with you. Megumi laughs under his breath at the blissed out look. Your hair drips water onto your tee shirt and it’s clear you rushed. “Really, really sorry to dip, Yuta. Run through those stretches we did last week to cool down!” Your fingers distractedly pull your wet hair into a braid as you instruct him. “Oh! Tell Maki I won’t be at afternoon training, Satoru already knows and gave permission. Megumi, grab my duffel?” Already carrying it, he rolls his eyes. “I should be back tomorrow morning, but don’t count on it.”

“Wait, but why -?”

“Gotta dash. Bye, Yuta!” You run ahead of your brother, headed to your room to grab Tsumiki’s gifts. Megumi gives a nod and follows after you. Alone and without anyone around to judge, Yuta groans and buries his face into his yoga mat. God, why can’t he just be normal.

When he looks back up, Rika has taken your spot on your mat. You left in such a hurry, you didn’t even clean up. He’ll have to drop it off in your room. “Ya’ know, it’s not that I’m mad about you liking her,” she begins. “It’s just…. I know we can’t be together so I do want you to be happy. I just feel jealous. Especially since you got her that super fancy chocolate for White Day,” Rika finishes with a pout.

Yuta doesn’t really know how to reassure her. So he does what he promised when he was ten, and is just honest. “I’m here to learn how to let you go, Rika. Neither of us know how to do that yet. I can’t be in any kind of relationship until I learn. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.”

Rika hums and picks at the corner of your mat. “Well. I think it’s more than just us two you’re worried about.”

“What?”

“Inumaki seems pretty interested in the both of you too. You may not see it, but all three of you are pretty smitten. It’s actually kind of gross.”

“That’s - he - no!” Rika just laughs and dissolves her form. Yuta, still flustered, continues to mutter as he collects the things you left and wipes down any used equipment. When he finally leaves, it’s just his luck he runs (literally) into Inumaki who looks unfairly handsome in a fitted tee and sweatpants. Even his markings are uncovered, which makes Yuta groan, tuck tail, and run away. Yuta can hear Rika laughing in his mind.

“Tuna mayo?” Inumaki tilts his head to the side but shrugs off the odd behavior.

-

July 2017

JJH Thots the good gojo: guysss help which tie do i get :( fushiguro: isn’t satoru with you the good gojo: yea but u know he’s shit at gifts maki: Both of those are ugly, (y/n). Do you hate the man? osamu: the cheetah print trophy husband: I like that one too! the good gojo: this is why you two are my favorites

From a few cities over, Yuta flushes at your words. Inumaki notices and kicks his foot. He’s laughing when he says, “Nori,” but Yuta can spot a faint pink over the hem of his collar too.

You turn around in the middle of the street when you hear a loud, “(y/n)-chan!” Satoru is speed-walking towards you, waving an arm that is covered in different shopping bags. His long legs have him beside you in a split second, even without the use of cursed energy. “Are you done yet? Nanami won’t even thank you properly you know. Why don’t you just get gifts for your precious Nii-chan?” He pouts and takes the two bags you’re carrying.

“One, it’s not your birthday. Two, you could buy anything you want already. Three, who's to say I didn’t already get you one?” You pull a box of macaroons out from one of the bags he took. Satoru moves to snatch it immediately but you put it behind your back. Of course, if he wanted, he’d just grab it, but your Nii-chan would never deny playing a game with you. “You can’t get it until we’re back on campus! I’m already tired and this is my bribe to go home early.”

“But (y/n)-chan,” he whines.

“Nu-uh. I promised a movie night with Toge and Yuta and I don’t wanna be late.” You realize too late you revealed too much, because your brother suddenly looks like a very successful cat.

“Why didn’t you just say so? I would never make my little sister late for her first date.”

You blush furiously, “Who says it’s my first?”

“It better be your first.”

“It’s not even a date,” you roll your eyes. “Neither like me like that, and if it was a date, wouldn’t one be a third-wheel?”

“Tricycles are pretty fun.” Your brother says casually. You roll your eyes again and add a gag for good measure. “Seriously, (y/n). You should know you have my full support to love anyone and everyone you want. Not that you need it, though. You’re a Gojo. We do as we please anyways.”

You tear up at his sincerity and throw your arms around your brother, or at least the best you can with his bags in the way. The two of you are frequently physically and verbally affectionate but not often in such a serious manner. You know there’s a deep love between you; for a long time, the two of you only had each other. Eventually, your family expanded to include Megumi and Tsumiki, but neither ever took the Gojo name. You and Satoru had a special bond. “Thank you,” you stutter around tears. You hope he understands it’s not just a thank you for the reassurance but a thank you for giving you such a life.

“Come on, no crying. You can’t go on your date with puffy eyes, you’ll scare both of them away.” He pats your head softly and just laughs when you punch him in the gut.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "Knock Knock Knockin' on Hooty's Door" from The Owl House

Wow. They are really pushing it for that secret message, huh?

Anywho--Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!

I think it goes without saying at this point that Season Two of The Owl House is setting itself up as a season without filler. Now, filler episodes aren't always bad. Yes, it hurts when a series turns away from the main plot for a week. But at best, they're utilized as a chance for the writers to play around with the characters and developing said characters without it relating to the overarching story. So, some people who see that consider it a bad thing that a series doesn't have that many filler episodes.

I like to call those people: F**king morons.

Don't get me wrong, I see where some of you are coming from. And I'd be willing to agree...if The Owl House was a plot-driven series. Which it's not. It is a character-driven series. Because for every plot thread and narrative that the show presents, they always relate to the characters and develop them further each time these threads get brought up. For example, look at "Knock Knock Knockin’ on Hooty's Door" (It pains me just to write that). Several narratives move forward, and it’s all done to make the characters grow. And to explain how requires going into spoilers. So keep that in mind as you continue reading.

Now, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Hooty: Might as well start with the character that this episode is about.

To tell you the truth, I wasn't a huge fan when I found out we're getting a Hooty-centered episode. I've grown to love him over time, but he is a comedic character that's best used in small doses. Primarily due to how his voice is grating to me (My ears are still bleeding...). With that said, I do really love his contributions in "Knock Knock Knockin' on Hooty's Door" (Seriously, there couldn't have been a less awkward title?). Hooty's antics when trying to help everyone are as hilarious as they are heartwarming. He deeply cares for his friends but just doesn't understand how his plans could do some unintended harm, which is pretty lovable if you ask me. We also get some surprisingly great insight into his character, as he feels insecure about basically being the comic relief who doesn't really do that much other than being funny. Rarely do you get that level of dimension from a comedic character, and it's even more uncommon for that to work out as well as it does here. It once again proves just how competent the writing is in this series to the point where we get an episode about Hooty, and it's funny and heartwarming instead of being annoying. And whoever is responsible for that, you're the best.

Lilith’s Letter to Hooty: I mean it when I say that I love how Lilith kept her word about her and Hooty becoming penpals. Their friendship was something I would have never expected to love, and I'm still shocked that it works so well, so seeing it continue like this just warms me to the bone. Plus, it is pretty sweet that Lilith's kind words are what inspired Hooty to do what he's done in this episode...meaning it's Lilith we should thank here--SON OF A WITCH! Even when she's gone, she's still working her way into my heart!

King going through Puberty: What?! KING IS EVOLVING!

(There, I made a Pokemon reference. Do I get my cookie now?)

Eda Keeping Herself Awake to Train Herself: I'm willing to bet a large sum of money that this has everything to with Raine getting captured last week. If Eda was still the most powerful witch in the Isles, she might have actually saved them. But she isn't, and now the love of her life is in the clutches of a tyrant planning something that could potentially be the end of everything. So I can understand Eda pushing herself to her limit to get back on top again, as I would probably do the same. It's not healthy in any way, and Eda would be doing more harm than good. But when it comes to the people you love, logic doesn't always win out in the end.

Luz Wanting to Make her Way into Amity’s Heart by Making the Echo Mouse Happy: ...That's it. I Just...I just love everything about it, ok?

This was also when I knew that I was wrong to doubt that there would be zero Lumity in this episode. I realize my follies now, and I humbly apologize.

Hooty Teaching King About Demons: This was so funny. So, so funny. Probably doesn't come as a surprise, especially since The Owl House proves itself as a comedy before, but the jokes have never hit as frequently and as hard as they did here. From Hooty getting offended by King's dance to him and Dana's insert wanting a "DNA sample," everything managed to successfully make me lose my s**t. It does come at the expense of King suffering, but I can stomach that much more than if it were Eda or Luz. And, as a bonus, we get lore about how demons work, added with another great joke of King getting in trouble with Hooty for saying he already knows this stuff. Humor isn't always the show's strong suit, but when it works, it f**king works.

King Wanting to Know What he Is: But despite how funny King's vignette was, we still get to see more of his character grow. We learn that he's frustrated now that there's this big question mark over his life now, feeling extra angry that his father "abandoned" him to leave such a present mystery. It shows the hidden resentment he has that Lilith inadvertently brought out, made even worse when King's father hasn't responded to the video yet. King hasn't really gotten that much development until "Echoes of the Past," so it's pretty cool that the writers haven't really slowed down on it. Especially when it leads to these great moments of King venting his frustrations.

King’s Shouting Powers: KING learned FUS RO DAH!

(And now that's a Pokemon reference AND a Skyrim reference. WHERE'S MY GOSH DANG COOKIE!?)

Eda’s Nightmare: If King's vignette hits you hard with the laughs, Eda's will absolutely hit you harder with the feels (never make me say "feels" unironically again). Knowing that Eda's life got thoroughly screwed over by the curse is something we could figure out on her own. But seeing just how much the curse ruined her life and tore apart relationships that mean the world to her really does a swell job at ripping apart the soul. What's even more tragic is, technically speaking, it's all sort of Eda's fault too. She kept hiding the curse, refusing to be a burden to others who would do all they could to help. If she had only been open and honest, things probably wouldn't have changed much, but they most likely would have been better than they are now.

Eda Attacked her Father as the Owl Beast: ...I don't know what I was expecting when "Keeping Up A-Fear-Ances" hinted that there was some possible tension between Eda and her father...but it definitely wasn't this.

The fact that we see blood where his eye used to be doesn't make things any happier, either.

Raine Broke Up with Eda: Before we get into anything else, let's celebrate the fact that it's now confirmed that Eda and Raine really did use to date in the past. Because this show is just f**king phenomenal with its LGBTQA+ representation!

But, seriously, this is a fantastic reveal that goes far beyond just shipping...well, sort of. It shines a new light on Eda and Raine's interactions from last week, revealing that while they're not a couple anymore, they still very much love each other. It helps make their last interaction especially tragic, as they were both on the same page now and could very well be together again. Only for them to be forced apart for the second time in a way that's much worse than the first. And I frickin' adore that this series changes the impact of one episode one week later. Again, it shows just how competent these writers are, and kudos to them for making something so...perfect.

The Moon Person: WHO THE FU--Nope. Nope! We have more than enough mystery bulls**t to deal with through CreepyLuz and Philip Wittebane, so I am PUTTING YOU ON THE BACKBURNER FOR NOW!

(They're probably nothing more than a one-off character, anyway)

The Owl Beast and Eda are Connected: Through visuals alone, we, the audience, can clue into what the curse really means. The Owl Beast doesn't want to be a part of Eda as much as she doesn't want it to be a part of her. Whether they like it or not, and they very much don't, they're stuck together. The thing is, and this is what I love the most, they still decide to make the best of their situation rather than let it ruin their lives even more. This might be the best possible turn Eda's curse could have made. It'll still affect her, and there are probably more negatives than positives, but at least now, it's not the worst thing in the world. And I feel like that's all anyone can ask when in a position like her own.

Eda's “Pretty Dream”: I don't know what emotions are toiling inside me more with this moment. Awe and wonder over how beautiful Eda's dream is, or heartbreak over the implication that she has only had nightmares since getting cursed...I'm gonna say both. Yeah, it's definitely both.

Eda’s Harpie Form: Well, fan artists are gonna have a field day with this...especially the freaks.

(You know who you are. And you're weird!)

Luz Calling Amity a “Cotton-Candy Haired Goddess”: ...Have I ever mentioned how much I love this show?

Hooty Kidnapped Amity: ...Hooty, if your stupidity wasn't charming, I would be more than willing to call the authorities over how you kidnapped a girl in your version of a knapsack and locked her in the basement. For that is going to ring SO MANY alarm bells in people's heads.

Amity and Luz Stuck in a Tunnel of Love: *Smacks lips* Mmm. The adorable awkwardness of this moment is just *chef's kiss* magnifique!

Luz being afraid of getting made fun of:

Amity’s look of hope: I mean...just...f**king--LOOK AT HER:

That is the look of a girl who, while embarrassed as hell, still is ecstatic to learn for a brief moment, everything that she is hoping for has a high chance of being real. Who, in their right mind, wouldn't go "Aw!" at something so pure and innocent?!

Luz Destroying the Tunnel of Love: This is how to effectively utilize dramatic irony. The audience can understand why Luz is tearing the place apart because she explicitly states that she's afraid of Amity rejecting her in the end. They also know that's bogus, thus making it extra painful to watch Amity's heart break more and more with each second (which is perfectly represented through Amity's expressions). You feel bad for both of them, and even worse when you know that it can easily be prevented by the simple art of communication. That's what makes it great dramatic irony. Knowing the point of view of each character results in a scene that evokes emotions in two different ways.

Hooty’s Breakdown: This was...genuinely hard to watch. Not that it was badly written, far from it. It just...hurt seeing how destroyed Hooty was when he realized he failed the people he has such an admiration for. On the upside, a wholesome moment follows soon after as the Owl House gang tries to reassure Hooty that he's done a lot of good that night. It's a pure action that shows even though Hooty gets on their nerves all the time, they still care about him...damn it. I think I'm gonna cry.

Eda’s Advice for Luz: ...Eda...You're the best.

You found out that your surrogate daughter wants to ask a girl out, and not only were you quick to deliver the best possible advice ("Just go for it!"), but you also quickly reassure her that it doesn't need to be perfect.

And you know what? That's it. Eda is the best cartoon mom! She might not technically be Luz's mom, but I don't give a s**t because she is the best!

Luz and Amity Ask Each Other Out: Shh-sh-sh-sh...

Do you hear that?

...

...

...It's the sound of dozens of Lumity fans collectively losing their s**t...and I'm one of them.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO!

IT!

IS!

CANON!

AH-HAHAHAHAHA!

HOLY S**T! Holy s**t! Holy s**t...might just be the best way I could possibly describe this! Finally, after all the waiting, speculating, and praying, THESE TWO IDIOTS FINALLY GOT TOGETHER! AND IT WAS PERFECT! I mean, it was awkward as s**t, but that's what makes it perfect! You know why? You wanna--Hey! *snaps fingers*. You want to know why? It's because they're teenagers. Of f**king course, it's going to be awkward! This is their first relationship, so there will be a lot of missteps along the way. And that, in itself, brings me to the best (second best part?) thing about it happening in episode eight of the new seasons. Most endgame couples get together in the climax or even at the end of the series. But to have them get together this early on, means there will be quite a few episodes dedicated to showing them grow as a couple.

And better than that--EVEN F**KING BETTER THAN THAT--dozens of kids are going to see these two, a realistic depiction of young love that just so happens to involve two girls, and are going to learn once and for all that there is nothing wrong with being who they are. That fact alone is f**king incredible. Yes, it sucks that season three got cut short, and we'll have even less time with Luz and Amity, but knowing how many kids have felt seen today almost makes it worth it in the end.

And if I see one mother f**ker saying this was poorly paced, I might just hunt them down for SPORT...Sorry if that was an overreaction. I'M JUST SO HAPPY! Because they're happy! Look at them. Listen to them! It's so...GAH-HAHAHA!

“They’re adorable! And deserve all the happiness!”: You're darn right, Hooty! You're darn right.

King’s Father(?) Shows Up: What the--WHAT?! They're doing this now?! Here?! After everything else?

Oh, man. What could this mean? What dynamic changes will this cause in the main cast? How could the writers fit this in during the next two episodes? And what--

Hooty Eats the Letter: ...Pfffft--HAHAHAHA!

Oh, man...I should be mad, and I wouldn't blame others if they are...but that is too much of a brilliant f**k you that I can't help but appreciate it. Bravo writers. Bravo.

WHAT I DISLIKED

...Dislikes? Dislikes? You would honestly believe that after everything I witnessed in this episode, that I would have the gull to list anything wrong with it?!

HOW DARE YOU ASSUME THAT I WOULD BE SO CALLUS TO--Actually, I do kind of have an issue with the episode's title. It's just too much of an awkward mouthful for me to get behind. I understand that the writers wanted to sneak the K into the secret message, but were there really no other titles starting with K that they couldn't come up with?

But that's just a personal issue, and in no way do I think anybody else would feel the same way. Especially with how well-written everything else is anyway.

IN CONCLUSION

"Knock Knock Knockin' on Hooty's Door" (title aside) is another A+ episode. It was hilarious, heart-wrenching, and downright adorable while keeping me entertained with every minute. I'm sure there are some issues I was willing to ignore due to how expertly written everything else was, but why bother looking for the chinks in the armor when I could just enjoy a perfect episode for being so...perfect! Some of you might be willing to disagree with me, but to that, I say: Don't knock it till you've tried it.

(Now, if you don't excuse me, I'm going to go lie down. It's...It's been a day.)

[chaoticvampirejedi]

Ghosts of 79's

Summary: You loved your job as a bartender at 79's, but times have changed. Now the clones, loyal to the Empire, stopped coming here, so the bar had to be sold. You decided to come there one last time and say goodbye to this place. There, you can't stop thinking about the clones, the nights you spent here, and your relationship with Rex.

Pairing: Rex X GN!reader

Word count: 1947 (it was supposed to be under 1000 words)

Warnings: light angst, drinking, alcohol use, mentions of war and characters death

Tags: @ladykatakuri @hellothere-generalangsty @twinkofthedink (if I confused something and you didn't want to be tagged please let me) know

It has never been so quiet in this place before. No music. No laughter. No sound of feet clumsily dancing on the floor. 79's looked like a miserable shadow of itself. Unnaturally silent and empty. There was this old saying on Coruscant that every bar has its heart that keeps it alive. If that was true, 79's had definitely lost its own. It was almost unbelievable how abruptly things have changed. 

And who could have expected it? you thought, looking at the blue illuminated bar counter where you used to make drinks every night; right now these nights felt like from another life.

You had no idea why you came here today; you didn't work here anymore. No one did. But you couldn't just leave this place without saying goodbye to it. Not after all these nights. Your gaze shifted at one of the tables and for a second you could have sworn that you heard familiar voices shouting "To the 501st!".

The 501st Legion. Your favorite clones in white and blue armors that always seemed to have the craziest ideas. You smiled thinking about them. Memories came back. Good memories. 

"Look who's here! The best bartender on Coruscant!," you used to hear often. It was usually Fives who greeted you this way. He and Tup loved to talk with you. Usually about their missions and battles; you loved those stories, their lives seemed so fascinating compared to yours. Surprisingly they had a different opinion on this.

"Ok, enough about us," Tup said once. "Y/N, and how about you? Tell us something interesting!"

"Me? Interesting?" you laughed. "Listen, my life is more boring than a broken droid. I have nothing interesting to tell you."

"Oh, come on!" Fives almost fell from his stool, he definitely had drunk too much that evening. "You work in the clone bar! I bet Tup's hair you have so many good stories! Just tell us something! Anything!"

And so, after a moment of thought, you told them; you told them about that one time you accidentally found one clone and your friend kissing in the bathroom. And then you told them about another fun day at your work. And another. And another. The three of you had such a great time that before you knew it your shift was over, but even then you stayed at the bar; you had too much fun to just go home. You smiled thinking about that day, the day you realized that maybe your life is not as boring as you thought. 

You never found out how exactly Fives and Tup died, for some reason, no 501st trooper wanted to talk about their deaths and you decided to respect it even though it wasn't easy for you. 

Now, looking at the empty stools you were wondering, if you will ever find such wonderful customers, again. Probably not. Fives and Tup were special.

You looked away and your gaze fell on the stairs that led to the upper floor of the bar now unlit and shrouded in the darkness. You chuckled, unable to suppress your smile as you remembered how you once slow danced on them with Kix. He had always seemed to be calm and sensible, and yet a few months ago he surprised you with this silly idea. 

"Come on! Just one dance and then you can go back to work!" his hand gently grabbed your wrist. "I have to prove to Jesse that I'm not boring! I'm a good dancer. I promise you won't fall!"

He was right. You didn't fall. You both did.

And even if this incident left you with a sprained ankle, you couldn't stay angry with the medic for long. Especially since it was he who introduced you to Rex.

Rex…

Suddenly your smile disappeared.

He almost never visited 79's, but the others used to talk about him so often that when he finally showed up at the bar you recognized him immediately.

"So you're the bartender my medic fell down the stairs with," the blond-haired clone said when he heard your name.

"Oh, so you've heard about me," you laughed, pushing a drink towards him.

"Well... Let's say this story has become very popular, right Kix?" Rex turned to look at his friend, but he wasn't there anymore. "Kix?"

"It looks like this place is dangerous for him." something about Rex made you feel relaxed and in a joking mood. "First the stairs, and now he has just disappeared. Maybe you should go after him because who knows what will happen next? Murderous bathroom door?"

Rex chuckled and you couldn't help but think how cute he is when he's amused.

"Kix can take care of himself," he said, slowly turning the glass in his fingers. "He'll be fine. Besides..." he looked at you and smiled. "I really want to hear your version of that story."

After that evening his visits at 79's became more frequent. He never drank too much and spent most of his time talking with you. Soon you realized that you were looking forward to these meetings. Rex was… different from any other clone you've met before. Neither in a bad way, nor in a good way. He was just different.

There was something special about him and you couldn't explain it, but every time you saw him you felt happy and every time he had to leave you felt sad. And of course, you had been flirting with him; both of you knew you liked each other. Actually, everyone knew it, you weren't very discreet with it.

Then why didn't you do something about it sooner? you've been torturing yourself with this question for a long time, still unable to find the right answer.

Were you too shy?

Or maybe too scared that for him it was just casual flirting?

Now all these doubts seemed ridiculous. Everything was lost anyway.

Once again you looked at the counter bar and took a deep breath. You slowly stood behind it with your hand running over its cold and unusually clean surface. That was it. Right now, you were standing in the same place you last spoke to him. You stared at the empty seat in front of you, wondering what you told him then that made him laugh so much. 

It was some joke about a droid and a Separatist, so stupid and childish that for one awkward second you thought Rex will be disgusted, but apparently he didn't mind. Instead, he just leaned toward you with a smile on his face.

"I have to tell you…" he was so close you could feel his breath on your cheek. "Thank you for this evening. I'm glad that I came here today. I really am."

"Wait," you almost knocked off a drink that you had just prepared for one of the customers. "Are you trying to tell me that you're leaving? Now?"

It was still quite early and you hoped that he would stay here for at least two more hours.

"Yeah. Tomorrow's a busy day". 

You knew what that meant; tomorrow he will leave Coruscant once again.

"I see…" you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. There was no point in asking him when he would be back. No one knew it. "Well… Good luck then."

"Thank you." a weak smile appeared on his face. There was an awkward silence between you as there was nothing more to do or say.

"So… Goodbye." 

"Goodbye." Rex was clearly embarrassed. "Please, take care."

"Yeah… You too."

"Always." he took the last sip of his drink and got up from the stool.

It was the moment when something broke inside you.

"Wait!" you grabbed his hand and looked frantically at his surprised face.

"Come with me. To my home. It's not that far from here. I- I'll say that I had an emergency and I have to leave earlier, so we can spend some time together... You know. Alone."

Your own words surprised you, but you didn't want to give up on this, so when you saw that Rex was hesitating you quickly added.

"My bed is very comfortable and I make the best breakfasts on this planet. You'll rest like never before."

"A nice bed and good breakfast you say?" Rex asked flirtatiously and tenderly brushed a stray of hair from your face. He clearly liked this idea. You had already smiled, convinced that he would agree, but then his facial expression changed. He wasn't the man who came to 79's to have fun and flirt with the bartender, anymore. He was a soldier. Loyal to the Republic and seriously taking the role assigned to him.

"No. Sorry. I can't." his hand slipped from yours. "Not today. Next time. I promise"

Next time.

But the next time has never come. You had been making drinks for so many clones, waiting for him but he never went through 79's doors again. Weeks and months passed and the 501st still didn't come back. You had been wondering how they were doing. Were they safe? Were they alive? Was he alive? Everyone had been talking that the war was coming to an end, so you let yourself believe that you would meet him again soon. 

And then one day ruined everything. The Republic had fallen. Jedi had become traitors and clones…

You still couldn't understand it. Suddenly all clones have become imperial soldiers. Why? How? You knew them. They were loyal to the Republic and Jedi. Not to the Empire. Nothing made sense anymore. 

That feral day also changed 79's forever. All clones stopped coming here and the rest of the Coruscant didn't want to spend any time in the "clone bar". Especially after recent events. The owner didn't hesitate for long; he sold the bar as soon as he realized that 79's couldn't be saved. 

A single tear dropped on the counter. You promised yourself you wouldn't cry, but you couldn't help it. This place meant a lot to you and what? You were supposed to leave it behind, just like that? You knew you wouldn't be working here forever, but this? This wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to celebrate the end of the war with Rex, not standing here alone and thinking that he was…

He's dead. an uncomfortable thought crossed your mind. Kriff. He's dead.

You tried with all your mind not to think about it, but you knew it was true. Rex would never betray his Jedi. He would disobey the given order. And if he did… Well. You knew what was the fate of every traitor. He was dead and it was high time you admitted it.

"Hey, you! I'm kriffing talking to you! Are you done standing there like a drunk Jedi withou lightsaber?" a sharp female voice snapped you out of your thoughts. 

You looked around in surprise and saw a woman in the doorway. Her face showed impatience.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, arm crossed.

"Sorry," you muttered. "I-I'm just… I worked here and…"

"Oh, great. Another sentimental clone lover who came here to think about the past. I'm sorry time have changed or whatever. Now, get out of here!"

Any other day, you would have said something mean to her, but not today. Today you were too tired and melancholic to think of any snarky reply, so you just wiped away your tears and walked towards the door, stopping only at the exit. You took one last look around the bar, ignoring the murderous glare of the woman.

"Thank you, thank you for everything," you whispered, and with the sound of a closing door, you finally said goodbye to the 79's.

[13uswntimagines]

Pranksters of the Bunch (Harry Potter AU)

Y/n is just starting to get comfortable with her new friends, when she learns about their more... playful side. We learn about more relationships and see hints of our endgame. We also get a glimpse of some other players that make up the rest of our version of Hogwarts. @literaryhedgehog

Pt. 1

“For next class, homework is to practice your transfiguration. Anyone who can get their matchstick into a needle is exempt from writing their essay. You are dismissed,” Professor McGonagall said, tapping her wand on the blackboard so the notes from the day’s lesson disappeared. As the other students began filing out of the room you picked up your bag and dropped your notes into it, careful to set your “quill” gently so the bic ballpoint pen you taped to it wouldn’t fall off.

“If you epoximose it, you won’t have to worry about it falling off” Lindsey said with an eye roll, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Some of your habits were a bit… odd. Like your preference for a pen that you didn’t have to dip in ink. 

“I’m sorry, if I what?” you asked. “That sounds like a sneeze.” 

“It’s a spell that’ll glue it so you don’t need to use spell-o-tape,” Kelley said, appearing on your other side as Professor McGonagall left the room.  

“I can teach you, if you like. It’s super simple, even a first year could do it,” Emily offered, ignoring Lindsey’s sideways glare. 

“Then why don’t they teach it to us as first years?” You said, slamming your chair under the desk. Not that you disliked any of your classes, but the curriculum seemed to leave out a lot of useful information. 

“Because they’re afraid that it’ll just help students do better pranks,” Lindsey huffed, crossing her arms. If anyone was going to teach you things, it should be her. 

“No they’re not,” Ashlyn said, rolling her eyes. “They teach tricky techniques that are applicable to multiple spells. It’s like quidditch drills.” 

“Cause it’s so much less challenging than fighting a boggart, or accioing anything. If you mess it up, then you could glue your fingers together,” Emily snorted, shaking her head. She was just lucky that Madam Pomfrey liked her enough to not rat her out to Professor Slughorn (not that he’d actually do anything) or Professor Longbottom. 

“Or accidentally drop a banner on the Huffelpuffs?” Ashlyn said with a raised eyebrow. Emily and Kelley seemed to shrink just a bit under her gaze. 

“That was you?” You asked, eyes wide. That banner had almost knocked Cheney off her broom and Amy was pissed. Rumor had it that the Slytherin captain had taken care of the incident because it was someone in her house that did it, but no one knew for sure (at least you thought no one knew). 

“You can’t prove anything,” Emily grumbled. 

“It was them,” Lindsey nodded, smirking at you. “and Arod made sure they not only apologized, but that they actually meant it. Kelley only got away unscathed because she hid in Gryffindor tower,”  

Those two always got themselves in over their heads and something always went wrong. You could only wonder what the Slytherin chaser did to them. Amy was terrifying when she wanted to be especially when you messed with her girlfriend. 

“Of course I meant it, the banner wasn’t supposed to fall,” Emily grumbled. “The charm was supposed to last the whole game. Anyway, she made me practice the sticking charm and its reverse a hundred times so it wouldn’t happen again. Not that it matters next year when I’m actually on the team. It’s stupid that they still don’t want second years to play beater.”

“At least this time there won’t be any accidents,” Ashlyn said, smirking as she settled into a chair previously vacated by some of your second year peers. Which was when you realized it was kind of odd that she was here. Wasn’t she a third year student?

“What do you mean?” You asked, your head tilting to the side like a puppy. 

“Wait THIS time?” Lindsey, asked, looking between the three girls settling down at the desks like it wasn’t the end of the day’s classes. “Don’t tell me you’re planning another prank right now?”

“Of course not!” Kelley said, looking aghast. 

“You haven’t left the room yet,” Emily said, adopting a similarly innocent, wide eyed expression. 

“They’re going to be dumbasses and probably get detention for a month aren’t they?” You asked, looking at Lindsey for help. Though you had know been hanging out with them for the past few weeks, they were still her friends after all. 

“Oh. I don’t want detention though,” Ashlyn said flipping through a spellbook absentmindedly. “And it will be rather hard to prove we have anything to do with an event which might or might not happen in the next few days.”

“Just a word of advice, though. If you’re going to take a shower today, do it in the next two hours and don’t take one tomorrow morning,” Emily said finally, eyes softening just a little at your too nervous expression. 

“You don’t think they’re going to test your wands to see if it was you?” Lindsey asked skeptically. 

“Priori incantatem only goes so far, especially if I tutor Y/n on how to glue her pens together,” Emily rolled her eyes, and shrugged. She would argue she was just being a good friend after all. 

“With the kind of prep work we’ve done, they’d have to go back, oh, at least three days before they saw any hint that we’ve done a spell related to the event, which again, might or might not start in,” Kelley checked her watch, the face of which glowed a soft yellow, “two hours and five minutes, give or take 20 seconds.”

You wondered if she came from a muggle family too, but you had been too afraid to ask. You had never met a wizard or witch that preferred wristwatches to pocket watches before. 

“In that case, we’ll head back to the Gryffindor dorms,” Lindsey said, hastily sweeping her transfiguration notes into the mouth of her bag. “See you at dinner Kelley, Ashlyn.”

“Want to meet in the library to learn the sticking charm Y/n?” Emily asked. Lindsey stopped in the doorway, waiting for you. “Like I said, I practiced the charm literally a hundred times, so I’m really good at it now!”

“Um, I think I’m just going to focus on turning my matchstick into a needle tonight, but maybe some other time?” You mumbled, glancing up at Lindsey. (Were you imagining the slight uptick of her lips?) 

“Okay,  See you then!” And with that Emily turned back to her compatriots, who all put their heads together and started talking in hushed voices, over a sheet of paper which looked eerily similar to a playbook. 

“What do you think they’re planning?” you whispered to Lindsey as the two of you raced towards the stone staircases up to the Gryffindor tower. There was this one staircase that was the fastest way up when it was connected to the right floor, but it only stayed there for a few minutes every half hour. If you missed the window to catch it there would be two extra flights to climb. 

“You really don’t want to know. Something always goes wrong when they make plans anyway. It’s why they always get caught,” Lindsey said back equally as quiet, shaking her head. She would skin them alive if you got caught in the crossfire. You were on her off limits list (you always had been) and they had always promised to respect that. 

*****

The two of you just made it to the beginning of dinner, after taking turns in the dorm’s bathroom to shower and dry your hair (at least until it wasn’t noticeably dripping). You didn’t know when your next opportunity to take a shower unscathed would be, and you were happy you had made it within Kelley’s two hour window. 

However, despite your expectations of screams, or the sound of frogs appearing from the drains, it was a quiet night. As was the morning afterwards. It wasn’t until lunch the next day, that you learned what the prank had been. Exactly as the clock struck noon, all around the great hall people started laughing as the hair of ¾ the school population turned bright colors. 

Professor McGonagall frowned at her bright purple hair in the reflection of her teapot. Alex threw a roll at Kelley (with neon yellow hair) who was pointing and laughing at her forest green hair. Tobin and Lauren had fallen off the bench laughing over at the hufflepuff table, pointing towards their respective girlfriends matching pink hair at the ravenclaw and Slytherin tables (Tobin’s hair didn’t seem to have changed color, though Lauren’s was a pale aquamarine sort of blue).

 At the Slytherin table Michelle was admiring her jet black hair, though with a wave of her wand it seemed to be speckled with glimmering white and red stars, then she turned to resume her conversation with Joy and some of the other seventh years, who you noticed didn’t seem to have colorful hair. 

Looking around the hall, you noticed that a lot of the older students seemed to be lacking the colorful hair sprouted by most of the student body. A few Ravenclaw sixth years had only looked up briefly from studying their notes to see what the commotion was about, before returning to “The Official N.E.W.T.S. Study Guide- test prep for the procrastinator”. Hope, Brandi, Mia, Briana, Christie, Tiffany, Lorrie, Carla. You looked at the sixth and seventh years you knew from watching quidditch games. Regardless of house, almost none of them appeared to be affected by the prank.. 

“You could have told me, you know?” Alex glared, throwing another roll at her cackling girlfriend. 

“But what fun would that be?” Kelley snorted, dodging the roll and quickly snatching up the basket to remove any further ammunition out of Alex’s reach. 

“Ashlyn told Ali and Emily told Kristie!” Alex whined, her nose scrunching up just the way Kelley always loved. Alex’s angry face was too cute for her to be like or off limits. 

“I value my life too much to mess with her hair care routine,” Ashlyn said, lifting her hands in surrender at Kelley’s death stare. Ali was on her off limits list after all, and that was a line she wasn’t willing to cross. 

“And you’ll notice all three of us were also affected by this terrible prank some stranger pulled!” Kelley said, unable to keep a straight face to match her seemingly offended tone. 

“Though I think I might use my free period after lunch to practice some quidditch drills,” Ashlyn said, twirling a strand of her bright maroon hair around a finger. “I have a feeling that the color will fade after I dump the icy cooler water over my head.” 

“Need someone to send some quaffles your way?” Lindsey asked around a large bite of turkey. She was always down to practice, especially if it meant avoiding the food fight that seemed to be brewing at their table. 

“Wait, ice water?” You asked Kelley as Ashlyn and Lindsey began discussing practice plans. Kelley jumped on the opportunity to escape Alex’s ire. 

“Oh yeah, we- um, whoever pulled this terrible prank- tied the spell to the hot water pipes. It should be safe to take a hot shower by tonight, but basically anyone who used hot water last night or this morning was affected. Cold water removes it though, which is why we quidditch players will discover the counter first, as we are known for taking ice baths after practice.”

“So I have to freeze my ass off to fix this shit!!” Alex screeched, plucking at the strands of green hair falling into her eyes. 

“Come on,” Lindsey said, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards where Brandi was sitting at the front of the Gryffindor table. “Let’s go get the locker room key from Brandi so we can go practice before potions.” 

“Yeah, let’s do that” You mumbled, eyes widening at how Alex was now towering over Kelley. You didn’t know the beater could shrink so far into her chair. 

Brandi, it turned out, was talking with professor McGonagall about the house cup this year. Though no longer head of Gryffindor house, McGonagall was still invested in the team’s progress. 

“Oh, speak of the boggart, here are our two latest recruits,” Brandi said, gesturing at you and Lindsey as you walked toward her. “Professor, Lindsey is our newest chaser and Y/n is one of the best first time seekers Mia has ever seen.”

“Speaking of which,” Lindsey said jumping in, “We were hoping to practice some drills after lunch. Could we borrow the locker room keys?”

You stood just behind her, still a little intimidated by both women. 

“It is good to see some responsibility coming from some of our second year Gryffindors,” Professor McGonagall said, smiling at you- when you peeked out from behind the taller chaser- and Lindsey in turn.  “I do think some of your classmates, and perhaps even some of our third year students could learn a thing or two from you.”

You weren’t sure how to respond, so you smiled meekly and quickly made your way out of the great hall with Lindsey and the acquired keys. “What do you think she meant by that? Do you think she knows who did it?”

“Oh absolutely,” Lindsey said, shaking her head. “It doesn’t take a Seer to predict that they’re going to have detention tomorrow night. Now come on, I want to try that new feint you read about.”  

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Every Drop of Grace

Endverse destiel

Rating: on the border between M and E (I’m over cautious, probably most people would say M)

About 3k

“Do you ever wish we could have something...normal?” Dean’s voice falls into the quiet night, a stone falling into a once-still pond.

Cas can’t hold back his snort. “Dean. You grew up hunting monsters. I’m a fallen angel. There was never going to be anything ‘normal’ about either of us.” Dean huffs in response, burying his face deeper into the hollow of Cas’s neck. “It also doesn’t help that our relationship–if that’s what you want to call it–began after the end of the world.”

“The world didn’t end,” Dean protests weakly. “It’s still here. It’s just…”

“Right,” Cas says, giving in to the urge to roll his eyes–it helps that Dean is behind him and can’t actually see his eyes. “The world is still here. We even have this tiny bit that’s almost safe.”

Dean doesn’t argue, though Cas can feel how much he wants to. Cas idly wonders if Dean ever argued a monster to death, but he doesn’t voice the thought. He doesn’t want Dean to leave. He smirks into the darkness, though. He can absolutely imagine a cocky, 13 year old version of Dean facing down a werewolf. “You’re doing it wrong!” shouts the smaller, higher-voiced Dean. “You need to lull me into complacency, then strike. No wonder you’ve been caught by a kid.

Cas chuckles softly at the made up–but completely plausible–memory. At Dean’s questioning hum, Cas skips his imaginings and brings the conversation back to where they started. “Considering the chaos all around us, I’d say what we have is amazing, Dean.” Having you at all is amazing, he does not say.

Dean smiles against Cas’s skin.

There is much Cas misses about being an angel–healing, flying, super-strength, not being so damned fragile–but on the opposite side, there are so many things that make the Fall worthwhile. He’d touched Dean when he was still an angel, and it had been nice enough. Better than nice even; there’d been something special about touching Dean from the first time he’d held the hunter’s broken soul in hell. But in this his human senses are far superior. The touch of Dean’s lips on the soft skin between Cas’s shoulder blades makes his heart race, his breathing quicken. Dean laughs, not more than a soft breath, and Cas’s stomach flips at the heat across his skin. He’s getting hard, just from a few small sensations.

Yes, the Fall was worthwhile. Even if they’re doomed, he wouldn’t trade this for all the Grace ever created.

Dean goes on, most likely unaware of Cas’s growing arousal. Cas focuses on Dean’s voice and on keeping his own breathing as even as possible, and soon he’s nearly as lost in Dean’s memories as Dean himself.

“I always tried to find fun stuff for Sammy, growing up.” Dean’s voice catches a little on his brother’s name, but he pushes through. “Most of the things I did pissed Dad off, but I didn’t let him stop me. The kid had to have something good in his horror of a childhood. Little things: a bag of marshmallows to roast over a campfire, a Monopoly game we could play in motel rooms, a baseball cap I knew he wanted. I found a pair of roller skates in his size once; I think he was about eleven. Man, that was a mess. Dumb kid took off like he knew just what he was doing and two yards later fell flat on his face. Dad put four stitches over his left eye and lectured him the whole time about what if that rock hit your eye instead of your forehead, blah blah blah. Sammy took it like a champ, didn’t flinch once, and as soon as Dad was gone Sammy put the skates right back on and took off again. And that time he didn’t fall. Well, he did, but not right away, and not so he needed stitches.”

Cas can tell Dean is working up to something, even if it all just seems like rambling. Dean is a roadmap, and sometimes Cas can follow. “A few months before I turned 16 I stole Dad’s car for a couple hours and took Sammy to a drive-in. You ever…?” Dean answers his own question before Cas has the chance to even shake his head. “Nah, you weren’t much of a movie-goer back in your halo days. At a drive-in you sit in your car to watch a movie–outside, at night. You park by a little speaker that pipes the sound right to you, and the screen is gigantic, big as...well, I don’t even know, it’s been too long, but trust me, it’s big. You look out the front of the car and all you see is the movie. You’ve got the sound filling up the car and the movie filling up your eyes and it’s like you and whoever you’re sitting with are in your own little world, whatever make-believe world the actors and all the rest made for you to live in. For a few hours, anyway.”

Dean’s voice is rough, almost raw. “That’s what we have, Cas. A few hours in a bubble full of make-believe, until the bubble pops and it’s the end of the world again.”

Cas wants to scream, to deny every word, to tell Dean it isn’t make-believe, it isn’t, and he wants to spend every minute from now until they fall to dust proving it, but instead he hears his traitorous mouth whisper, “I know.”

“It’s okay,” Dean says, and Cas isn’t sure which of them Dean is trying to comfort. “It’s okay. The pretending, the bubble–it’s enough.”

It isn’t. Cas wants it all, wants every bit of Dean. His smiles and his glares, his laughs and his curses, his happy chatter and his incoherent tears. He wants to be fucked into the mattress and then hold Dean in his arms until the sun comes up, to have Dean stay all night instead of slinking away in the darkness.

It isn’t enough. The coffee’s been gone for awhile, but he wants to make Dean tea in the mornings, good strong tea to bring a little of the sparkle back to his green eyes. He wants to go with him on foraging runs, venturing out of their little corner of the world to find supplies to last them just a little bit longer. He wants to have Dean’s back, to protect him, to keep him safe. He doesn’t have his mojo anymore, but he still has his blade, and he’s had millenia of practice to hone his skills.

Cas doesn’t want only darkness, grasping and clutching at each other when the rest of the world sleeps. He wants to give Dean every kind of pleasure, and maybe a little bit of peace. As a fallen angel, Cas doesn’t think he gets to go to heaven, but he doesn’t mind. He has here, he has now.

So this little bubble of half-truths and fairy tales…

It’s not enough.

Cas’s eyes begin to sting. “Fuck.” The word is mostly air, barely a sound at all, but of course Dean hears. Because Dean can see through Cas’s pretences too. That’s how these things work.

“Cas?”

“It’s nothing,” Cas says, but Dean sees through that too, maneuvering them both so they’re face to face on the narrow bed. Cas closes his eyes, willing the tears to stop before they can properly begin. He hates to cry, hates to have his feelings fly so far out of his control that they stream down his face in the form of wet, salty tears.

“It’s nothing,” he says again, when he trusts that his voice won’t give him away. Then, grasping at the first thought that passes through his head, he says, “I just don’t like when the bubble pops.”

The lines around Dean’s eyes soften. He presses a kiss to Cas’s forehead and says, “We’ve still got a few hours. I’m not going anywhere.” His yet is unspoken but Cas hears it anyway.

Dean’s got one hand holding the side of Cas’s face, fingers threaded into his hair, the other resting lightly on his hip. Their legs are tangled together, and when Dean moves in to kiss Cas again their hips move together and Cas can’t take it anymore. There is so much skin, it feels like skin for miles, but also like he can feel every individual cell, every molecule of Dean’s breath, every miniscule drop of sweat…

“Dean,” Cas groans, because it’s too much, his brain is going to overload. It doesn’t matter that they had sex not long ago–Cas needs more, needs to be closer. “Dean.” It’s almost a prayer. “Please.”

And Dean is there, even before he calls, pushing him onto his back. Dean kisses Cas, hungry, and Cas is happy–eager–to be devoured. He’s got his arms wrapped around Dean, clawing at his back, trying to pull them closer together. There’s a part of his brain screaming that Dean thinks this is all pretend, so maybe if Cas can get them close enough together, if he can somehow press the truth into Dean’s skin, then maybe Dean will understand.

But then Dean thrusts his cock (hard, so hard, and all for him) against Cas’s, and he stops thinking and just feels.

Cas throws his head back and Dean nips at his throat; Cas hisses and claws at Dean’s back again. There’s a growl coming from deep in Dean’s chest, but Cas can feel the smile against his skin. They both like the small shocks of pain–reminders of life.

Holding himself up on one forearm, Dean reaches between them, wrapping his strong, calloused fingers around both their cocks. A moan escapes Cas’s lips, and Dean chuckles softly. “Do you remember the first time we did this?” He’s looking deep into Cas’s eyes, and not for the first time Cas suspects he sees a bit of faerie in the emerald depths; enchanting, beautiful, tricksome, and dangerous. He knows there’s nothing to the thought; he knit Dean back together molecule by molecule, saw every strand of his DNA.

Dean twists his hand in a particularly skillful way and Cas is pulled back to the present. Their first time. Yes, Cas remembers. How could he forget?

“Summer sun,” Cas manages, in between gasping breaths. “Your freckles…”

“My freckles?” Dean laughs. “That’s what you remember?”

“I might be only human now, Dean Winchester, but I remember–” He gasps as Dean’s palm brushes against a particularly sensitive spot– “I remember every second of that afternoon with perfect–” Another shuddering gasp– “Perfect clarity.”

Dean’s hand stutters to a stop, and when Cas sees the look in Dean’s eyes something in his stomach twists. Don’t be too real don’t be too real shouts a voice inside his head, clearly battling with the part of him that wants Dean to know everything.

I’m a mess, he thinks.

To Dean he says in a low, broken voice, “I was leaning against the trunk of a tree, looking up at the sun shining through the leaves. It occurred to me that I’d never spent any time looking at trees, or leaves, or much of anything at all while I was an angel. I did what I was told. Didn’t even take time to look around and enjoy the view.”

Dean’s hand starts to move again. For a moment Cas’s eyelids flutter closed, his eyes rolling upwards in pure pleasure, but then he continues, concentrating on speaking slowly and carefully and without breaking. He almost succeeds.

“I hadn’t been human long. A month? Five weeks? Not long enough to get used to human senses. So when you walked up and the sun shone down on your face, your freckles standing out against your pale skin… And then you put your hand–” The memory of Dean’s hand reaching out is too much and he has to stop to breathe, to gain control, because he doesn’t want to come yet. The story isn’t over. “You put your hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Hey Cas.’”

That had been it. Just a touch, some freckles, and his name on Dean’s lips.

“There was something in your eyes,” Dean says, taking over the narrative. “I hadn’t meant to kiss you. But you looked...kissable. Blue eyes wide and…” He gives his head a quick shake. “I don’t know what it was. But as soon as our lips touched I knew it was the right thing to do. Knew I shouldn’t have waited so long to do it.” At this Cas raises his head up just enough to slot their lips together. It’s an electric current, sharp and warm, just like it always is.

It’s home.

“And then you pushed me up against my cabin wall.”

They’re both breathing heavy now, each of them close to their release but trying to hold on.

“It was the closest wall I could find,” Dean says, a little defensive, a little embarrassed. “And it was a little more hidden than the tree we started out against.”

If Cas had the breath to spare he’d laugh. He lets out a puff of air instead, and Dean’s eyes light up in response. “Yeah,” Cas says, teasing. “Sun shining down on us, completely visible from three sides, only blocked by the cabin. Couldn’t be bothered to–”

Dean stops him with a kiss. Cas doesn’t mind. Cas’s mind is full of lips and skin and hands and sparks and pleasure that is building and building and threatening to heave him overboard–

Cas is on the edge, barely hanging on, when Dean stops.

The stillness is both total and false. Neither of them moves, almost as if they are frozen in time, and there is no breath of wind coming through the open window, no branches scratching at the roof. But there are two hearts pounding, two men gasping for breath, and the whispers of a thousand words not being said.

Cas refuses to be the first one to speak. He knows if he opens his mouth, he’ll never stop.

It feels like an eternity has passed–though it’s probably only been ten or fifteen seconds, Cas’s sense of time has been skewed since his Fall–when Dean breaks the silence.

“What do you want, Cas?”

“Everything.”

Cas tells the truth, the real truth, before he can think, and for a moment he wishes he could somehow call the word back, erase it from history, go back to their bubble of make-believe. Dean would probably let him brush it off. He could call it sex induced lunacy. It’s probably even true.

But no. No. He’s fucking tired of pretend, of half-truths, of bedtime stories. This isn’t enough. He means it, he wants everything.

Dean is looking into his eyes, searching for something. Cas can’t read his expression, he’s guarding his thoughts too closely.

It hurts, having Dean hide from him. They’re naked and in each other’s arms, and Dean’s…

Well, really they’re both hiding. They’ve been hiding from the beginning.

Shit.

There’s a burning behind Cas’s eyes again, but this time he can’t blink the tears away. When the first tear rolls down Cas’s face Dean pulls back, a fraction of an inch, in surprise. His thumb wipes away the tear.

“Cas?”

“It’s not enough,” Cas says. “I can’t do this anymore, Dean. I meant what I said, I want everything. All of it. I want to spend the night with you and wake up with you in the morning. I want to kiss you in the daytime, with the sun on your freckles. Are you ashamed of me? The camp screwup, the broken angel? Because people talk, Dean. Everyone knows you come here, and they know what we do, and they don’t care. The world is falling apart. There are bigger things to worry about. There are bigger things for us, too, but right now all that matters is I can’t hide anymore. I love you, Dean. I think...no. I know I always have. And I don’t want to waste another second hiding in the dark.”

And Dean just looks at him. Once upon a time Cas put Dean together, molecule by molecule. Saw every bit of him. That’s how Cas feels now. Examined. Seen.

Known.

It should be horrifying, but it’s Dean, so Cas just looks back, waiting. He doesn’t even wipe away the tears that keep falling despite his best efforts to blink the damned things back.

The silence goes on so long Cas is sure Dean is going to get up and walk away. It’s okay, he tells himself. I want more, I want everything, but to love...that will never end. It will hurt, but I’ll still love him. No matter–

And then Dean is kissing him. It’s not heated, or frantic; it’s a soft, gentle kiss and makes Cas feel wrapped in love. They both smile, their foreheads pressed together. “Wish you’d said something sooner, Cas.”

“Didn’t want to push you away.”

Dean pulls back a little. “That’s...well, yeah, that’s…”

Smile widening, Cas says, “We’ll work it out.”

In what Cas supposes is an answer, Dean kisses him. A bit more playful this time, he even bites at Cas’s lower lip. Cas can’t hold back his moan. The feel of teeth rasping against his skin…it’s almost too much.

And then Dean’s hand starts moving again, tugging and twisting at their dicks. Cas is almost startled, he’d been so caught up in his confession of– but now isn’t the time, he’s groaning into Dean’s mouth and he thinks there might be words but his brain isn’t quite connected to the rest of his body at the moment. All he knows is good and Dean and so much love and skin and when Dean murmurs Cas’s name it’s too much for him and he spills his seed between them. Dean chases after, a punched out sound falling from his lips.

They lie together, still, their come sticky and drying between them. Somewhere far off in the camp a door clatters shut.

“I wish–” Dean starts.

“I know,” Cas interrupts. But it’s not the time to dwell on what might have been.

Dean shifts them into a more comfortable position. “Okay.”

“We should–”

“No.” This time it’s Dean interrupting. “Not yet. We can clean up in a few minutes. Right now I just want to hold you.”

Tucking his face against Dean’s chest, Cas murmurs, “I can’t say no to that.”

Dean somehow pulls Cas closer, and Cas’s skin sings. Worth every feather, he thinks. Every drop of Grace.

**

For @bend-me-shape-me ‘s Dean/Cas summer prompts!

Week 2 (drive-in cinema) and week 3 (I can still recall our last summer)

I hit week 3 kinda sideways…but it works!

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: roommates Alex and Willie share a bed on the night of a storm and it becomes a habit, resulting with a confession and a kiss. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

Sorry this has taken me so long to get round to! I absolutely loved the request and it was a joy to write, especially since I’m so stuck in my JatP feels for the anniversary. I’m always a sucker for a one bed trope too! I really hope you like it, thanks for the request!

Raging Storms and Lovesick Hearts

There were times that Alex wasn’t sure if moving in with Willie was the best decision he’d ever made or the worst. In many ways, it was a decision he would never go back on – living with Luke and Reggie had been fun during the day, but apparently neither of them had ever heard of sleep and decided to make that Alex’s problem, so now that he lived with Willie it was nice to finally know what it felt like to be well-rested. It was also great because he got to spend much more time with Willie, something he’d craved for as long as he’d known him.

But that was also sort of the worst thing about it all.

Being around Willie all the time was beginning to drive Alex a little bit insane. Not in a bad way, it wasn’t like he felt stifled or had grown bored or frustrated by Willie’s near-constant presence in his life. If anything, it was the opposite. Nowadays, he got to see every version of Willie, not just the smiley, put-together version he saw when they met up on odd weekends. Now he got to see tired Willie, just rolled out of bed, still unsteady on his feet from sleep; he saw even more of the kind, generous, fair Willie who offered to do the dishes whenever Alex cooked dinner; he saw the childishly exhausted Willie who crashed on the couch and slept for three hours every time he got back from the skatepark; he saw adorably sleepy Willie at night when it was nearing midnight and he was reluctantly going to bed, eyes already drooping closed; he saw paint-splattered Willie, brushes tucked behind his ears and shoved into his hair, headphones in, working tirelessly on some big piece that Alex admired every stage of; sometimes, he saw a version of Willie that made his heart ache, a broken version of Willie with tears running down his cheeks as he wiped furiously at his eyes as Alex did everything in his power to console him. He saw every version of Willie and he wanted them all so badly, but he couldn’t have any of them.

And sure, he’d brought this upon himself. When the guy he’d been pining over for exactly one year had asked if he wanted to move in, he could have guessed that it would ruin him, and he could have said no. It would’ve been easy.

But Alex had seen the smile on Willie’s face, the excited glint in his eye about the prospect of living together, and his affirmative answer had been out of his mouth before he’d given it a second thought. He was paying the price for his thoughtlessness now, condemned to watch Willie be anything but his for as long as they lived together. Frankly the whole thing was exhausting – he had to wonder if that was adding to him getting a good night’s sleep every night.

There was another reason he preferred nights now, not just because he could rest easily. Night was the only time he didn’t see Willie, the only time he could get a little respite from his aching heart, lie alone in the dark and pretend he was the only person on Earth. Maybe it was a little lonely and more than a little sad to think of things that way, but it was a change from his usual pining at the very least. He thought that having that time to escape his feelings was definitely doing him some good.

Until the night of the storm.

There had been warnings about it all week. Alerts popping up on Alex’s phone, breaking news plastered on every TV he saw, articles about finding shelter and stocking up on food just in case the storm was worse than they thought. It was only supposed to be a passing thing, been and gone overnight, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

It had been raining all day, a dismal drizzle, the kind of rain that was so fine you didn’t realise you were soaked until you felt your clothes sticking to your skin. But around midnight, everything kicked off. Alex lay in bed, toying with a fraying thread on the duvet cover, listening to the rain hammering against the windows hard enough to rattle their frames, the wind whistling as it bled through the streets outside, the claps of thunder loud enough to deafen as they came just seconds after bursts of lightning illuminated his entire room. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit frightened, but he curled up tighter in his bed, pulling the covers close, and tried to force sleep.

A knocking sound made his eyes snap open. At first, he wondered if he’d imagined it, or if it was the sound of something hitting his window, but then it came again. And yes, it was definitely a knock. A knock at his bedroom door. A knock on his bedroom door at half-midnight in the middle of a storm. And there was only one person it could be.

Alex stretched as he swung his long legs out of the bed and flicked his bedside lamp on. He pulled open the bedroom door, squinting in the sudden burst of light from the hallway, and was met by a timid-looking Willie with his hair braided back, wearing his pyjamas, fist still sheepishly raised as if to knock on the door again.

“Hey,” Alex said, voice low with fatigue. He tried to stifle a yawn as he scrunched his eyes, forcing the tiredness out of them. “Is everything okay?”

He must have not hidden his exhaustion as well as he’d tried because Willie winced before saying, “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“No, no,” Alex assured him, “I couldn’t sleep anyway. The storm is too loud.” Willie nodded awkwardly, casting his gaze around, seemingly trying to look anywhere but at Alex. It was strange – Willie wasn’t the type to avoid talking to someone, especially if it was Alex, who was suddenly left feeling very concerned. “Is it… Is that why you’re awake too?”

“Kind of,” Willie replied, a half-smile on his face that quickly flickered out of existence. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. “It’s silly. Don’t worry about it actually. I’ll go back to my room. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Hey, no,” Alex protested, clutching Willie’s wrist as he tried to turn and walk away, stopping him in his tracks. Willie didn’t turn to face him, but did stop trying to leave, so Alex took that as a victory. “You could never bother me. And whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not silly.”

Slowly, Willie turned back around to face him, some mixture of hope and nervousness dancing in his eyes. When Willie looked down again, Alex followed his line of sight and saw that he still had a hold of Willie’s wrist. He dropped it suddenly, instantly aware that he’d been holding on too long and if he wasn’t careful Willie might take that to mean something that Alex definitely couldn’t have him knowing which would introduce a whole different kind of storm. (But before he let go, he could have sworn he felt Willie’s pulse racing; maybe it was his nerves, but maybe it was something else… something Alex didn’t want to get his hopes up about.)

“It’s just… I’m not really great with storms,” Willie admitted softly, meeting Alex’s eyes again. “They freak me out. I was just going to ask if I could… if I could, you know, sleep in here with you tonight? If it’s totally out of line you can say no, I get it, man, I won’t be up–”

Alex shook his head, not wanting to let him spiral, knowing that never ended up well for anyone. There was a pretty major part of him panicking over the fact that Willie was going to spend the night in his room, but that part was outweighed by the even bigger part of him that was worried and concerned for Willie, the part of him that wanted to protect Willie at all costs.

“No, no, it’s alright,” he said, interrupting Willie before he got too lost in his own head. “Come on, you can sleep in here. I don’t mind.”

It was only as the two of them backed into the room and Alex shut the door, blocking out all the light from the hallway and leaving them dimly lit by just his bedside lamp, that Alex remembered that his room was very small and ill-equipped for impromptu sleepovers. Which was to say, there was only one bed.

His internal panicking doubled in an instant. Because there weren’t many options here. He could make Willie sleep on the floor, which seemed incredibly harsh and unfair considering the state he’d just come to Alex in. He could sleep on the floor himself, which he really didn’t want to do because it would be cold down there and he didn’t like the idea of being able to see underneath his bed. They could relocate to Willie room down the hall where there was a small sofa that one of them (probably Alex) could sleep on, and they’d still be in the same room, but he knew they were both tired and switching rooms sounded like a lot of effort. Which just left sharing the bed, and truth be told, Alex was utterly terrified by the idea.

He was about to say something, ask Willie what he thought the best course of action was, but the words died in his mouth as he saw that Willie was already climbing into the bed. He already seemed much more at ease, the worry lines around his face softening as he closed his eyes. After yet another brief panic, Alex got into the bed again and laid down beside him.

He could hardly hear the raging storm over the incessant beating of his own lovesick heart.

The whole thing felt so intimate even though there was nothing overtly intimate about it. Really it was just one friend helping another, Alex being there for Willie when he was frightened, lending him a bed and a comforting presence. But they were so close, touching all along one side of Alex’s body, their breathing synced, the world around them slowly fading into nothingness until it was just the two of them.

After some time, it was impossible to tell exactly how long, Willie said, “Thank you, Alex.”

Alex sighed quietly, letting his eyes fall closed. He shuffled ever so slightly closer to Willie on the bed and as his tiredness overtook him he lost a little control over his inhibitions. Before he knew it, he’d thrown an arm around Willie’s waist, holding him close, their bodies curled together. When he registered what he’d done, he almost pulled away, but Willie relaxed into him so he let his arm stay where it was.

“Don’t mention it,” Alex whispered to the darkness around them. “I’m always going to be here whenever you need me.”

In moments, they were both asleep, the storm still raging outside.

*

When Alex woke up the next morning, the storm had all but died. He could still hear the gentle pitter-patter of rain drumming on the windows and roof, but the wind had long since ceased, as had the thunder and lightning that had lit up the night. He exhaled contentedly, relaxing against the warmth on the left side of his body, and nearly drifted off to sleep.

But then he realised what – or rather who – that warmth was.

The events from the night before came flooding back to his with all the ferocity of the storm itself. Willie coming to him in the middle of the night, how frightened he had seemed, how Alex had offered up his room, and how they’d fallen asleep tangled together. Now they had woken up in the exact same way, and Alex had no idea what to do about it.

If he moved, he risked waking Willie and that was a conversation he would rather avoid. But if he stayed still, Willie would eventually wake up and he’d still have to have that awkward ‘remember last night’ conversation. There was really no winning here. Even in a situation where he was cuddling the love of his life, he couldn’t come out unscathed.

So, he went for the slightly immature third option and opted to feign sleep, letting the whole thing be Willie’s problem whenever he woke up.

And eventually he did, not long after Alex. When Alex felt him stir and stretch, he tried to slow his breathing, keep his eyes closed only gently, and even let out a few fake little snores to try and sell the piece. His eyes were closed, so he had no idea if Willie even looked at him, but moments later Willie slipping out from his grasp and Alex heard the tell-tale creak of his bedroom door. Only when he heard it click shut did he breathe a long sigh of relief.

Honestly, he had thought that would be it. One night together and then Alex could get back to his nights of peaceful sleep. Only there were two things in the way of that:

One – suddenly, without Willie sleeping in his bed, Alex found that sleep was much harder to come by.

Two – after that night, Willie slept in Alex’s bed more often than not.

Alex really had no idea how it became so routine, but it did. About a week after the storm, Willie knocked on his door again and told Alex he’d had a nightmare, asking to sleep in his bed again. And who was Alex to refuse? So they’d slept in the same bed again, they’d woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

Then just two nights later, Alex’s resolve had broken and something had possessed him to go to Willie’s room and invite him back to his own. He had made up some flimsy excuse, something about his heater having broken and him needing warmth, but Willie hadn’t questioned it. They’d slept in the same bed again, they’d woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

And the very next night, they hadn’t even discussed it before the two of them just went straight to Alex’s room and climbed into bed together. They’d slept in the same bed again, woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

For something so focused on sleep, it was ridiculously tiring.

After it had gone on for a few weeks, Alex had to wonder if maybe this whole thing meant something. If maybe he wasn’t alone in his feelings. If maybe Willie felt the same, but had similar hang-ups to Alex – he didn’t want to ruin their friendship, didn’t want to embarrass himself by admitting to unrequited love, didn’t even know how to bring it up. Maybe sleeping by each other’s side had become something of a safety net for them, a teetering middle ground on the border of friendship and something else entirely.

And as Alex lay awake, head rested on Willie’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, he knew suddenly that he had to push it. No matter how much that frightened him, he had to take that leap and push them into the uncertain territory that was something other than friendship.

When he sensed Willie waking up, he did not pretend to be asleep.

He eased his head off Willie’s chest and rolled over to lay on his front, watching Willie as he blinked awake endearingly. Alex’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, but he knew he had to do it. He had to take that leap.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

Willie smiled gently, rubbing at his tired eyes and pushing his hair out of his face. “Good morning, hotdog.”

“I think we need to talk,” Alex said without preamble. It wasn’t the most natural segue into the matter at hand, but that hardly seemed to matter right then.

Willie blinked, clearly a little surprised, but then he nodded. Alex took a deep breath, steeling himself, and let it out.

“I really like you, Willie,” he said, maintaining eye contact even though it was the most petrifying thing he’d ever done. “Like, a lot. So much that it’s been kind of driving me crazy for a year now. I’ve wanted to tell you how I feel for about a year now, but every time I tried all this doubt and anxiety just told me it wasn’t worth it and that you could never like me the way I like you. And I believed it. I never said anything, and I fooled myself into thinking I’d be alright if we were just friends. But after all this, sharing a bed almost every night and then pretending it never happened… it’s proved to me how much I need you. I can’t sleep without you next to me, Willie. I want you by my side all the time. All of you. So, if I’m not reading this whole thing dramatically wrong, then I want to finally ask you to… to be my boyfriend.”

For a long moment, Willie said nothing. He held eye contact, like he was searching Alex’s eyes for the truth, whatever it might have been. But Alex had said the whole truth. He’d let it all out, he’d told Willie he needed him. All he could do was hope that Willie needed him too.

The moment ended abruptly when Willie breathed out and almost silent, “Yes,” and then surged forward to kiss Alex.

He was kissing him.

This was a possibility that Alex had never allowed himself to entertain, a thought he’d never followed up, a scenario he’d never imagined. He had known that once he thought about kissing Willie, he would be ruined if it never happened. But the real thing was better than anything Alex could have thought up in his wildest dreams anyway. It was like a muffled explosion – both harsh and soft, near and far, dangerous and safe.

When they separated, Alex rested his forehead against Willie’s trying to get his breath back and his heartrate under control.

“I’d been wondering if I should say something,” Willie chuckled, stroking his fingers through Alex’s hair. “You beat me to it.”

Alex smiled and pressed another soft kiss to Willie’s lips. “Doesn’t matter. We got there eventually.”

The next morning when they both woke up in Alex’s bed, Alex didn’t need to feign sleep. He pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek and pulled him tighter. He thought that after months of missed opportunities, they definitely deserved a lazy morning in bed together.

[cutesilyo]

no place in the world (like manila) — an amephil fanfic

A few months after the outbreak of the Philippine-American War, Alfred falls in love with and is betrayed by a bright-eyed teenager with the prettiest smile on this side of the Orient in a single night. 

This is not a love story.

Also available on AO3.

—

"Sir, I don't think it's safe for you to leave the camp," Major-General MacArthur warned. "I don't know how, but the revolutionaries know your face. They could attack you!"

"Pshaw," Alfred snorted. "I'm a nation. What could they do that could take me down, huh?"

MacArthur's mustache bristled in displeasure. "Be that as it may sir, might I remind you that you only arrived in Manila a week ago? Knowing you, you'd just get lost and I'd have to put together a whole squad of troops just to hunt you down. You could get captured, Alfred. I don't know how to tell you just how badly that would bring down morale."

Alfred just wagged his fingers, a bright grin on his face. "Look, if I get captured, I'd bust out of whatever crappy holding place they'd put me in without barely breaking a sweat! And knowing our soldiers, that's just the stuff that would make a great story to tell at dinnertime. How's that for morale?"

The way that MacArthur simply stared at him blankly told Alfred that this was not a convincing argument.

"I hate it when you do that," he groaned, slumping back on his seat. The leather was hot with the heat of the tropical sun and it stuck uncomfortably to his skin. Oh, how badly he wanted to just finally get up and leave. "I'm just saying, I can't stay inside here forever just waiting for you to dictate our next move."

"It's part of our strategy—"

"And it's boring. I'm bored, Major-General. I might as well look around." Alfred's eyes glinted dangerously. "Besides, you'll capture the whole nation for me soon enough, won't you? No harm in wanting to see what we're winning once this war is over."

The silence lasted for a few seconds before the major-general sighed in defeat.

—

Private Patton R. Wilkes was assigned to “accompany” Alfred while he roamed around Manila, but he knew that MacArthur just wanted someone to make sure he would actually return to camp instead of getting lost or, God forbid, taking the next ship back to America. Though the both of them were dressed in civilian clothing, the private carried himself with a strict stiffness that just screamed hardened military man. If Alfred wanted any chance of escape, it looked like the private would be hard to shake off.

Alfred tried to stay optimistic about the trip anyway. He hadn't paid much attention to the city while he was on the way to the American camp, but he certainly expected it to have an air of exoticness. He was a bit disappointed not to see anything like the palaces of Japan or the distinctly oriental architecture of China. Instead, he found street signs written in Spanish, the excited chatter of fast-talking brown-skinned people, and the cacophony of guitars, church bells, and the sound of horse-drawn carriages trotting along the stoned roads. Walking around Manila was like looking at a funhouse mirror version of Mexico: more or less the same, but with just enough differences to make his head spin.

"Uh, you alright there, sir?" Patton asked.

"Was just thinking about a bad memory, is all," Alfred grimaced. He's sure that Alejandro would have his head once he returned to the continent. He's been pissing off a lot of Spanish-speaking nations recently, that's for sure. "Come to think of it, the Philippine Islands must have its own personification too, right?"

The private's face darkened. "He's a force to reckon with, sire. Haven't seen no hide nor hair of him myself, but some guys in the other squadron barely survived after fighting with the kid."

"A kid?" Alfred furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't know there were still nations out there who were that young. Then again, he was only a teenager himself, and he was even younger when he fought against Arthur as well. "I don't know how I feel about fighting a kid. Couldn't I just give him a lollipop or something and this could all just work itself out?"

He meant it as a joke, but Patton seemed to take it seriously and started furiously shaking his head. "Don't think you could even try negotiating with him sir, the kid's a savage. Hacked and slashed his way through the guys with some kind of golden knife, they said. We're lucky our medics are so darned fast, otherwise, we would've been down almost a dozen men from him alone."

Something in Alfred's resolve hardened at the thought of losing his soldiers to someone so brutal. He clapped the other man on the shoulder and said, "Don't you worry, Pat. We'll end this soon, and when we win, we'll make sure that nobody from these islands ever lays a hand on any of our own."

That seemed to comfort Patton somewhat, though he was still shaking with anger. "I'll give them a good walloping right by your side, sire."

"Now that's the kind of patriotic determination I wanna see!" Alfred crowed. He then immediately scrambled for his wallet and hurriedly gave the private a wad of bills. Some onlookers openly gawked at seeing the number of dollar bills in his hand. "Tell you what, why don't you buy some booze, head back to camp, and inspire your fellow soldiers, eh? God knows we need some fun around here."

"Um," Patton blinked, caught off-guard. "I don't know if Major-General MacArthur—"

"Tell Major-General MacArthur that I'm just trying to boost morale," Alfred winked. "Also, tell him I'll back by next morning!"

He didn't get to hear Patton's response as he took off running wildly in the opposite direction. He barely registered running past the stores, wet market, and the cathedral; he just wanted to be alone and independent, exploring this new land to his heart's content. The buildings were shorter and the roads were narrower here than in his own country, but Alfred was just so glad to finally be in a place filled with people just like he was used to.

Alfred collapsed on his knees, winded. When he looked up, he was surprised to see that he had apparently made it to one of Manila's many ports. Past the numerous small fishing boats and trading boats, he could see that the sun was already beginning to set. The sky was painted in a pretty combination of pinks and oranges in contrast to the ocean's blue, the stars already starting to twinkle faintly into appearance one by one. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the rocks seemed louder than everything else around him — a stark reminder that no matter where he went, there was always something bigger to discover.

He stood there for a moment, mesmerized when a loud grunt startled him out of his stupor.

He turned to find some kind of bull staring at him with its beady eyes, its long horns curving towards the back instead of to the front. It was pulling a wagon full of leafy vegetables that Alfred couldn't recognize, and the old man riding it looked startled to come across a foreigner.

"Hijo, padaan naman po," he said, with a strained smile.

"Oh, sorry, I don't know what you mean," Alfred tried, but the man just continued smiling at him. He was starting to think that maybe abandoning Patton, who wasn't fluent but at the very least conversational in Tagalog, was a bad idea.

Luckily, someone came to his rescue. A teenager with bright eyes approached him, an amused twitch of the lips on his sharp face. He was dressed simply: unlike the suit and tie ensemble of the richer Filipinos he'd come across or the pale blue uniform of the Philippine Army, he wore a thin white top and trousers cut just above his ankles. The scabbard on his hip would have been concerning if Alfred didn't know just how many Filipinos carried knives in their daily lives. All in all, he looked just like any other street vendor, but the red handkerchief tied around his neck was vibrant enough to make him stand out. "You are American, yes?"

"Ah yeah," Alfred flushed, a bit flustered. The way the stranger leaned in was a little too close for comfort, but he looked harmless and at least he spoke English. "Can you help me? I think that man is talking to me, but I can't understand what he's saying."

The teenager grabbed his arm to pull him to the side. The old man tipped his straw hat in thanks, and the teenager smiled, saying: "Pasensya na po, lolo! Hindi kasi taga-rito."

The two of them watched the wagon pass them by. They stood there in silence for a moment, and then Alfred blurted out, "I didn't know I was in the way, I swear."

"You did seem quite distracted." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other boy laugh. The both of them turned to each other at the same time, a small smile on each other's faces. "Not that I blame you. I am sure you have sunsets in America, but it is different here than in other countries. I think the colors are more vibrant, do you agree?"

"Certainly takes my breath away," he admitted. "I do have to ask, how come you speak English so well? I've only been in Manila for a few days but I don't think I've met another Filipino that's as good as you are."

The teenager only laughed again and held on to Alfred's arm tighter. As he looked up at him, his eyes and grin were equally bright with mirth; and despite himself, Alfred was a bit charmed. "Us Filipinos are not as stupid as you think, señorito. Now, you say you are a stranger to Manila, yes? Come with me, and let me show you around my city."

—

They ended up hailing a tranvia, a carriage made to carry a whole group of people instead of just a pair. Alfred found it small and quaint, making an internal note to build tram lines in the city once he was able. Yet the energy that the teenager had with him was larger than life. He had apparently noticed the other passengers giving Alfred a suspicious side-eye, and immediately launched into a round of jokes to dispel the tension. Though he barely understood the jokes due to them being told in a mix of Spanish and Tagalog, the way that the whole tranvia burst into loud laughter was enough to assure him that his companion was quite the comedic performer.

When they got off, the driver even thanked them for the entertainment and told them not to pay the fare anymore. Alfred let out an excited whoo! as the teenager did an exaggerated bow.

As the carriage rode off, Alfred turned to his new friend and exclaimed, "Wow! The way you handled that was amazing! I mean, I've been through worse than an awkward train ride, but you definitely saved my ass back there."

The teenager blushed slightly. "Think nothing of it. I would rather see my companions happy and comfortable in my care than anything else."

"Still, that thing you did was certainly a swell sight." Alfred breathed in the cold evening air and let it out with a contented sigh. He looked straight into the other boy's eyes as he said, "And it's really nice that you're going through all the trouble to be with me tonight too! Like, we don't even know each other's names but you just whisked me away like some kind of fairytale hero! That was really awesome of you, I have to say."

"You are a man of sweet words," the teenager said, with a smile that looked almost bittersweet. Then, as if he had completely forgotten about his melancholy, he grabbed Alfred's arm again and dragged him towards the next street corner. "But let us not waste time talking! Most of these shops close soon, and I would hate for us to miss them!"

Helpless, Alfred let himself be strung along.

Sadly, most of the shops they went past had already closed for the day. Still, the teenager cheerily talked his ear off about what wares they sold and the local gossip about the people who ran those stores — like Pepito, owner of the clay pottery store, who had apparently given away all his lotto winnings to the next city's blacksmith. The one time that they had actually been able to buy something was when they came across a small, brightly-colored cart that apparently sold the Filipino version of ice cream. Both the vendor — Mang Tomas, as he was introduced — and the teenager had chuckled when he brought out a wallet full of dollars, so the teenager had to reach into his own pocket to pay with a few coins. As they walked past yet another cathedral, Alfred caught his friend singing the hymns under his breath. When they reached the plaza, the teenager then asked the lady standing nearby — Aling Nena, he was told — to give him a jasmine garland, the scent of the white flowers so powerful that it immediately made Alfred sneeze on his friend's face when he put them around his neck. Yet instead of getting mad like he expected, the teenager had only laughed and told him he looked handsome.

No matter where they went or who they talked to, his friend always seemed to know everyone's names. Alfred had no idea how he had the time to possibly get so familiar with all the people around him, but he certainly understood the sentiment; he loved talking with all the Americans that he came across with too. Personally getting to know the people who made his nation always made him feel more connected with them in a way that war and politics never could.

And if the Philippine Islands was truly to be his someday, Alfred knew he wanted to treat them similarly. More than anything or anyone else though, nobody in the archipelago had intrigued him most than the young man beside him whose smile was brighter than any star.

Yet all his experience in small talk failed him tonight, and not for lack of trying. Every time he asked questions about his friend, he was always diverted away from the topic.

Which part of the city are you from? was met with a vague Do you ask the flower which vine it came from? You are better off simply enjoying the whole garden.

Where is your family? had been completely ignored as his friend said You must be hungry, yes? I know a place with the best empanadas this side of Binondo.

What is your name? earned him a cheeky wink and a teasing If your mind still ventures to inane questions like that, then I am not doing very well in completely impressing you.

How old are you? made the teenager burst out into loud, hearty laughter that lasted for more than a minute. Alfred didn't even bother to try asking anything else after that, choosing to focus on his empanadas and arroz a la valenciana for the rest of the meal.

Later, when they were served a bottle of gin to share along with a bowl of peanuts, his friend had the grace to apologize for his behavior.

"I truly am sorry," he said, but the playful grin on his face made it difficult to take his apology seriously. "I simply do not think that you knowing more about me is more important than us having a good time together."

"How am I supposed to find you again if I don't know who you are, huh?" Alfred couldn't stop himself from whining. He ignored the glass in front of him, taking a swig straight from the bottle and letting the alcohol burn down his throat. His friend watched him in bemusement. "This has been the best night of my life in a long time. And if this is the last time we see each other, I don't think I'm going to forgive myself if I don't push you into giving me a hint."

This time, it was his friend's turn to take a drink: he filled his glass half-full and downed it all in one go. "You are certainly bold, señorito, I will give you that. A good friend of mine warned me about how loud and annoying Americans were, but it seems he neglected to tell me about how forward you all were as well."

Alfred resisted the urge to roll his eyes; of course, he would get deflected yet again. "Alright, I'll bite. Tell me more about your friend."

The teenager looked surprised. "You wish to know more about a man that insulted you?"

"If this is the closest I get to you telling me more about yourself, I'll take it," he shrugged. "Besides, I'd love to know how this friend of yours thinks. Americans are the greatest people in the world! He must be stupid if he doesn't know that."

The other boy laughed. "Of course you would say that, you biased brute. And I will have you know that my friend was quite smart, actually. One of the smartest men I have ever known."

Alfred felt like he wouldn't like the answer, but he asked anyway: "Was?"

All traces of laughter from his friend's face faded away into a hollow smile. "Killed by firing squad a few years ago."

Silently, Alfred poured gin into both of their glasses. They drank in solemn solidarity.

"My sincere condolences," said Alfred, and he meant it: he had lost too many friends himself over the centuries. "And I'm sorry I called him stupid."

His friend waved it off. "No worries. Pepe was incredibly intelligent, but he definitely had his fair share of stupid moments — you wouldn't believe how many times that man fell in love over the course of his short lifetime. Still, I miss him terribly and I wish he was still around. God only knows what he would have thought about everything happening at present."

"Oh, I know the feeling." Despite him dying decades prior, Alfred still longed for George Washington's steadfast guidance sometimes. He reached, a bit messily, for another drink. "It's uncanny, yeah? Some people just have this weird ability to analyze the present and predict the future. I certainly don't know how they do anything like it, really. I kind of just talk big and hope for the best."

"Funny that you talk about the future," the teenager chuckled. "Somehow, my friend even managed to predict that you would come here, Alfred. I did not believe him at the time, of course, but here you are."

"Here I am," Alfred repeated faintly. "Hold on, how did you know my—"

"Why were you all alone in my city, señorito?" His friend interrupted, looking up at him through his eyelashes. He leaned closer, close enough for the skin of their arms to touch, and Alfred suddenly forgot about all his worries. "I was very surprised to see you on your own, looking every bit like a lost little lamb. You are very lucky that I found you."

"Lucky indeed," he murmured, adjusting the collar of his shirt. It felt like the temperature in the room had risen by a dozen degrees. "Just wanted to explore, is all. MacArthur told me we had to stay low for a few more weeks, I got bored, and he let me out."

Those bright eyes were practically glittering as the teenager looked up at him, his fingers slowly tracing up his arm. "And you were alone? I always thought American soldiers traveled in pairs, but perhaps I was mistaken."

"No! No, you're right, you're definitely right," Alfred stammered out. He was sure his face was completely red by now. "I was with Private Wilkes earlier, but we, ah, got separated. He must be on the way back to Bulacan by now."

"How unfortunate," the other practically purred, clearly delighted. "Say, tell me, how did this Wilkes look like? Because I am sure that he does not look as handsome as you do."

That damned smile, now coy instead of kind and sweet, was tantalizingly close. If only he had the courage to lean down—

Alfred, trying desperately to distract himself, grabbed the bottle again and took a long swig.

There were about a million promises that threatened to spill from Alfred's lips, each one more outrageous than the other: Come with me. Stay with me. I'll keep you safe. I'll love you. Yet at the moment, he found himself tongue-tied. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or the atmosphere or the way the young boy across the table had so effortlessly allured him, but he felt like he was about to go insane. He barely registered the both of them standing up to leave, didn't question why they didn't need to pay at the restaurant, paid no heed to what his friend had whispered to the men standing guard by the door. His mind was in a muddy haze, and all he could focus on was the fact that his friend was holding his hand as he was led into the dark streets.

Dimly, Alfred thought that however striking he looked by the setting sun, he looked much more ethereal bathed in moonlight.

He must have said this aloud because the teenager laughed.

"You are a man of sweet words," he said, and there's that oddly bittersweet smile again. "And I wish we could have met in better circumstances."

"What's wrong with the way we met today? I had fun," Alfred argued. He swayed slightly on his feet, and his friend held on to him to keep him from falling. "Didn't you have fun?"

"You forget we are at war, señorito. And you forget that you are seeking to control me and my people, not find a lover." Despite the harsh words, the way his friend said this was soft and sad. Almost like he was somehow hurt. "It does not matter what we feel today if we are bound to fight each other tomorrow. Should you not know this by now?"

They walked together in silence, each supporting the other. Slowly, Alfred's alcohol-induced dizziness began to subside. It was replaced by a growing emptiness in his chest — and a heavy, heavy realization.

"You knew I was America this entire time." When his friend deigned to respond, he continued. "Then, why...?"

At this, the teenager laughed — broken and wistful and desperate, all at once. "I do not know myself. I was ready to attack you, but for some reason, the look in your eyes as you watched the sunset stopped me. I thought, if you could look at my country with such amazement, then you could see that this war is unnecessary. That if you could know my land and my people the way I knew them, full of vibrancy and color and light, then you could realize that they did not deserve to die.

"Yet as the night went on I began to realize my efforts were fruitless. It was not them you were looking at anymore, but me." Here, his friend faced him; Alfred barely catching a glimpse of his wet eyes before the teenager looked away. "Believe me, I would love to spend another night like this with you. But you have your responsibilities and so do I."

"Fruitless," Alfred repeated hollowly. The cold night wind was in stark contrast to the hot rage he felt bubbling inside him. He forcefully wrenched himself away from his friend, yelling: "You made me tell you classified information!"

In seconds, he watched the teenager's face go from shock to hurt to an angry glare.

"Do you not understand how badly I need to win this war? My people did not give their lives to free me from Spain just so you could swoop in and take over! So forgive me, señorito," his friend spat mockingly, "for trying to find whatever advantages my poor nation can get against such an imperialistic nation like you!"

"And do you not understand what we're trying to do here?" Alfred shouted. "We are fighting this war to save you! Don't you see that your country is a mess? That you're underdeveloped, uneducated, and unfit for self-rule? I was the hero who helped save your people from Spain, jackass, and—"

"—and you promised to give us independence, and yet all your countrymen seem to do is kill." The teenager finished, both his eyes and the hilt of his knife glinting golden under the moonlight. "Is that what freedom means to you, America? I beg to differ."

As Alfred stepped away from him in furious, furious betrayal, all he could think about was that the other boy looked so small.

"I thought of you as my friend," he said.

"And I thought of you as my liberator," the teenager said coolly. "I see we were both wrong."

A harsh whinny interrupted them both. Alfred turned to find Patton riding a chestnut brown horse, his face red from exhaustion but seemingly unharmed. The private stopped in front of him, dismounting without grace on the pavement. His face was red from exhaustion and his clothes looked considerably ruffled, but otherwise, he looked unharmed.

"It ain't my position to say this sire, but don't you dare ever try to run away from me like that again," Patton panted, giving a quick side-eye to the other teenager before dismissing him. "We best hurry now, because those two won't be happy about their stolen horse."

Just as he was about to ask who those two were, a pair of Filipinos with muskets turned the corner and ran towards them. He vaguely recognized them as the same two men who were standing guard at the restaurant. They shouted loudly, a mix of Tagalog and Spanish expletives that Alfred could barely recognize, and a phrase distinct enough that he felt like it was something significant: amang bayan.

Patton evidently recognized the words. He looked at him in a wide-eyed panic, saying, "Sire, we need to leave—"

And as quick as lightning, Patton fell to the ground with a sickening crack. Caught completely off-guard and his arms restrained, he was helpless against the teenager who had a knife at his throat: a knife that, as Alfred began to realize with a horrified lurch of his stomach, was engraved with golden flowers and the insignia of an eight-rayed sun.

"You must be Private Wilkes," the Philippines smiled. "I do hope you are enjoying my country."

"Get off him or else!" Alfred screamed, the combined events of the night making him feel like he was about to reach his breaking point. He reached for the pistol he kept hidden on his belt and took aim, hoping to God that the other nation wouldn't force him to shoot. Even after everything, he didn't feel like he had the nerve to hurt Philippines after the hours they spent together; maybe some other day, but not tonight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the two men had caught up to them. They angled their muskets at him from a distance. The horse, which Alfred had been planning to use for escape, had already taken off running in the commotion.

Patton stared up at him with fear in his eyes, a bleeding gash on his forehead, and Alfred's hands began to shake.

Above all else, Philippines was still smiling: eyes bright, amused twitch of the lips on his sharp face. Slowly, he stood to approach him.

Like a switch had been flicked, his features turned soft and kind again — more like the boy that Alfred had met earlier, the boy who had dragged him around the streets of Manila with lighthearted laughter, the boy whose smile was brighter than any star. All Alfred could do was stand there, mesmerized once again, as his hand was gently pried away from the gun.

"Alfred," Philippines said this quietly, almost like he was invoking a prayer. He motioned the men to stand down. "I do not wish to fight."

"I don't want to either," Alfred admitted. Maybe there was hope... "C'mon, we can talk this through, right? Look, we haven't had a battle in months. It should be really easy to negotiate, yeah? I'll set up a meeting with your generals and mine, we'll have a civil discussion with no weapons allowed, and we'll reach a compromise."

The other nation was leaning in, and this time, Alfred took his chance. He held Philippines' cheek in his hands and they kissed, soft and quick and chaste.

"Of course," Alfred said, as he pulled away. "I would need your complete surrender—"

He was swiftly kneed in the stomach, disarmed, and shot.

"Alfred, I do not wish to fight," Philippines said, as he watched Alfred collapse to the ground. "But I have to. I hope you understand."

He vaguely registered Patton reaching out to him as his eyes closed and the blood pooled around him, but all he could focus on was watching the other nation walk away into the darkness.

—

When Alfred came to, he was already back at camp. Without thinking, he immediately trudged to the general's war office.

"Good morning, Major-General MacArthur," he smiled, bright and cheery. "Gather the troops. I want to destroy Manila immediately."

—

Notes:

This is set in October 1899, during those months when there were no battles or skirmishes between the two armies. On the first day of November, the Americans launched a major attack on the Filipinos. This attack happened in San Fabian, Pangasinan, not in Manila, but let's forget about that.

Major-General MacArthur is, of course, Arthur MacArthur Jr., who was a major military figure during the Philippine-American War. I also claim artistic license in hinting that the American camp was in Bulacan because it probably wasn't.

Alfred's comments about Manila looking like Mexico are based on a comment by former president Manuel L. Quezon when he visited Mexico back in 1937: "Everything was the same." He meant that very, very affectionately.

Here's a nifty map of modern Manila. Alfred and Patton start out in Quiapo, which is basically the heart of downtown Manila. Alfred runs all the way to Muelle del Rey, which, coincidentally, happens to be the same place where the Jones Bridge stands today. Alfred and Phili take the tranvia to Binondo, Manila's business district and home to the world's oldest Chinatown.

The names of the store owners and vendors that Phili talks about are references to assorted media in Philippine pop culture. Pepito is a reference to Pepito Manaloto, a long-time comedy show about a man who won the lotto. Mang Tomas (Mang being an informal way to refer to a male adult older than you) is the name of a popular brand of gravy. Aling Nena (Aling being an informal way to refer to a female adult older than you) is a reference to the song Tindahan ni Aling Nena, about a boy who falls in love with a storeowner's daughter.

The garland of white jasmines that Phili puts around Alfred's neck are supposed to be sampaguitas, our national flower. They're usually sold near churches and are given as a sign of respect.

I have no idea if there are actually empanadas and valenciana sold somewhere in Binondo, but let's jot that down to artistic license. But these are very much Filipino foods that were adapted from Spanish foods, which is why Phili brings it up when Alfred asks about his family.

The old friend that Phili keeps talking about is Jose Rizal, our national hero. He is primarily known for being a great writer, whose novels inspired the Philippine War for Independence, and for being killed for it. He is also known for being having a long list of lovers, many of them not even Filipino. Lesser known is the fact that he visited America, hated it, went on a train ride with an American, and hated it. He wrote a whole diary entry about how much he didn't like America and Americans. He had also predicted that out of all the world powers, it would be America who would probably take an interest in conquering the Philippines when Spain was out of the picture. Go figure. Rizal was also affectionately known by his nickname, Pepe.

I imagine Phili to be particularly proficient in arnis, which is also known as kali or eskrima. It's a kind of Filipino martial art, most easily recognizable as that one martial art where everyone is dual-wielding a pair of sticks. The sticks are actually for training. Traditionally, arnis is fought by dual-wielding knives or swords, and it's meant to be quick and efficient in defending, attacking, disarming, and killing. Phili's fictional ornately designed knife is inspired by this very real ornately designed knife. The detail of the eight-rayed sun is a reference to the eight-rayed sun in the Philippine flag.

Lastly (phew!), some Tagalog to English translations!

Hijo, padaan naman po - Young boy, kindly let me pass Pasensya na po, lolo! Hindi kasi taga-rito - Sorry, grandfather*! He's not from around here. Lolo literally means grandfather but is a general way to refer to any elderly man regardless of any actual blood relation. Amang bayan - Fatherland

[9layerdevilfoodcake]

Some Of A Kind

Chapter 1: Virgin in the Chapel

(Michael Langdon x reader)

Summary: When you accompany your friend to a black mass at the Church of Satan. You pick the wrong time and place to let him in on the fact that you’re a virgin, garnering the attention of the ‘chosen one’ himself.

Warnings: murder, mentions of drug use, poorly represented Satanism

Word count: 3,666 (that’s right)

//

It was a typical Wednesday night when you got a text from your friend Tyler.

‘So what do you say? Is tonight the night?’

He had been bugging you for weeks to come see a sacrifice at the satanic church. And since the first time he asked, the conversation always went the same way.

/

“I’m telling you, just one slice and then you can have whatever you want”

“You mean I can have powers beyond compare?”

“Yes” he answered back, in a hopeful tone. Clearly he hadn’t picked up on the sarcasm in your voice.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the excitement in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you do whatever you want over there with your edgelords but I’m perfectly happy in my boring powerless existence”

“First of all we aren’t edgelords, we're satanists. We just see the world for what it is. A dreadful place full of selfish people.”

“Well I can’t say I argue with that”

“Exactly, so give in to being selfish, and start doing what you want. You work so hard, and for what a one bedroom apartment you can barely afford and bags under your eyes that are only getting bigger by the day?”

“Hey” you interrupt, slightly offended. Which only earns a laugh on his end.

“I’m just saying, you put in so much effort for no pay off, when you could do this one thing and have everything you deserve”

“What a cable package and a ‘skip the line’ pass at Disneyland?”

“I also get unlimited snacks!”

“Oh sorry how could I forget, well if one soul is all it takes to get a free waffle cone then what are we still doing here?!” You ask back, your tone full of mockery.

“Have you ever wondered why I can snort as much coke as I want and have never OD’d? Or why every girl I bring home is a certified 10?”

Actually you had, the two of you had met the year prior in a religious studies class when you were partnered to write a paper on whether morality was dependent on a god. He could barely get through a sentence without tripping over his words or looking away in embarrassment. It was sweet really, and by the end of the class you two had basically become best friends.

But about 2 months ago things started to change. There was almost always a girl leaving his house when you would come over.

You swore at least two of them you recognized from Victoria Secret runways.

One night you even saw a man leaving whose resemblance to Ryan Reynolds was suspiciously uncanny.

He got a new car without any explanation as to where he got the money, and he had so much coke in his living room you assumed he started dealing, before he told you it was just his stash for the weekend.

At first he was vague about everything, but eventually he told you the truth, or at least what you assumed was a version of it.

For his final project he wrote a research paper on the church of Satan.

You went with him to a couple of services when he was writing it, him being too nervous to go alone.

You both thought they seemed a little kooky, but relatively harmless.

Yet what you didn’t know was that he kept going back after the class ended and had gotten himself sworn in, and eventually given the honor of participating in a black mass.

Where he had sacrificed a school teacher in order to get these new “gifts”.

Now you weren’t naive enough to think he actually killed someone!

You were sure his new lifestyle was a part of some religious Ponzi scheme, and one day the debt collector would come calling.

You’ve watched enough documentaries to know better than to get involved with this.

But he is still your friend so you take it upon yourself to be supportive and let him have his moment, while simultaneously letting him know you’ll be here for him if the day comes that he gets excommunicated.

“I love you and I am so happy for all you’ve gotten, especially when you share it with me, but I’m good, really. I’ll let you know if I ever change my mind”

That dropped the subject for a while.

 

That is until a few days ago when you lost your job.

Well actually when your job was stolen from underneath you by your boss's son.

All it took was one night of bitching to your best friend for the talks of satanism to start up again.

//

So here you were bored on a Wednesday night actually considering his offer to watch a black mass.

‘Well…’

He texted back after a few minutes of no response on your part

‘Fine’

It’s not like he’s ever going to let up, you might as well go see what all the hubbub was about.

After he picked you up, you made your way to the church.

More precisely the back alley with a hidden door. Not at all unsettling.

And the rain pelting down on the robe he gave you just adds a nice ominese touch to what you're sure is going to be a long night.

Now inside you sit in a pew in the back. While the choir above you sings as the others file in.

They actually sound pretty good if you’re being honest. Maybe on your way out you’ll pick up the album you saw for sale in the lobby (for $6.66 no less).

You haven’t been sitting more than 10 minutes before the mass begins.

And in that time Tyler roughly explained what you were about to see.

You weren’t paying too much attention though. More enamored with the atmosphere.

It was a sea of red cloaks and black pentagrams. And the thunder outside appeared to clap along in sync with the crescendo or the choir.

This place seems vastly different from the shabby collection of misfits you encountered when you visited the first time. Who spent most of the service complaining and handed you a stale donut on your way out the door.

“...Y/n are your listening?!”

“Hmm Yea”

“Really?”

“Yea the guy’s gonna sacrifice some ‘innocent soul’ say a few hail satans and voilà he gets his hair back and starts getting laid again” you answer back, waving him off. You’re more interested in watching two Satanists in the front of the room give each other the “sign of the cross” gesture in reverse order.

“This is serious, the things you see might shock you but you can not react! If they think you’re some sort of threat to our secrets or even just afraid of them, it won’t end well. I’m kind of taking a risk by bringing you here”

That brings your attention back to your friend.

“So you hound me for weeks to come with you, but I’m not even allowed to be here?” You ask back, starting to wonder why you actually said yes to this.

“Well yea, I just really want you to see what I’ve seen, I want what’s best for you”

That was actually really sweet of him.

Now you felt a little bad for making fun of this so much.

That is until you see a man in the next row pull out a flask with “unholy water” written on it and rub it on his chest like Vick’s.

But before you get the chance to ask Tyler where he keeps his flask(which you're certain he has). The choir stops singing and the Priestess has the room's attention.

Everything goes as Tyler explains at first.

The “sacrifices” are brought in in their underwear. (They couldn’t even keep their clothes on, what does the devil give them a level up if the victims are humiliated before they die?) and tonight's chosen one, Phil, is about to take his position, before you hear a voice behind you.

“Wait!”

You turn your head to see an older woman rushing in, but it’s not her that steals your focus it’s who walks in behind her.

He is quite possibly the most attractive person you have ever seen. With cheekbones that could slice butter and soft blonde hair falling around icy blue eyes.

She says his name is Michael and this honor belongs to him.

You look over to Tyler to see what’s going on. He didn’t explain what part of the performance this was, was this some sort of second act surprise?

You were expecting this night to follow like a church service, watching Phil take his vows and minimal audience participation. Now you wonder if this is all rehearsed, or if the Satanist’s are partial to improv?

But Tyler pays you no mind, he can’t take his eyes off the blonde either.

It’s not until the Priestess mentions the “mark of the beast” and that he is the chosen one, that you get why Tyler is looking at him like he’s some sort of god.

Because to him he is, this guy is supposed to be the Antichrist.

Tyler says nothing only glances in your direction when he sees you’re the only one still standing, before he pulls you down to your knee like everyone else.

The rest of the performance is really top notch.

The flickering of the lights was a nice touch, but you can’t help but feel a little uneasy wondering how they keep getting the thunder to time up with everything they do.

Plus the bodies of the sacrifices fell to the ground almost too well.

How did they manage to get their bodies to look that lifeless, and why did those cuts look so deep?

But you try not to focus too much on it as you walk to the ceremonial Wednesday night potluck.

/

After the Antichrist has dismissed his followers from fawning all over him, you sit with Tyler at the end of the table and dig into your lasagna.

“So does the antichrist part happen at every sacrifice or is this one special? Is it some Satanic holiday I wasn’t aware of?” You ask, breaking Tyler out of whatever trance he appears to be stuck in.

“What?”

“I gotta say the dramatics were very entertaining, but if you really wanted to get me here all you had to do was tell me the guy who plays the Antichrist is really hot” you snicker under your breath.

“Play? Y/n your don’t understand he IS the Antichrist” he explains in a hushed voice before continuing

“That doesn’t happen every time, he really has come. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Don’t you see?! I think it was fate you came here on this night!”

“Ha, why do you need a virgin to sacrifice or something?” You laugh and take another bite before you look over and see Tyler staring at you with wide eyes.

“What?”

“You’re not serious are you?”

“Well yea, what’s the big deal, I didn’t realize you were so caught up on a social construct”

“I’m not, but you can’t say things like that around here” he looks around the room nervously and you follow his path of vision until your eyes land on Michael, who’s own gaze is locked on you.

There’s no way he heard you, you were across the room and you were whispering.

Still he continues to stare with eyes that speak only of intensity. No smile, no nod, no hint emotion whatsoever.

It’s only after you raise your brows and mouth a “What?” That he looks back down at his plate with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh Satan, I think he heard you. You should go” Tyler’s tone becoming more erratic by the second.

“What?” You’re sure he's joking, but when he looks at you there is nothing but worry in his eyes.

Now you’re starting to get nervous, this is too far.

He actually thinks these people are going to do something?

He’s practically shaking with fear, and because of the man in the turtleneck? Who barely knows how to hold a spoon?

Okay you’ll play along for tonight, but tomorrow you are having a serious talk, he might need professional help.

“Alright let's go then” you huff out as you start to grab your belongings.

“I can’t just leave, especially since our savior is here, but I’ll make sure everything is good and you’re not followed or anything”

“Okay, is there some sort of satanic shuttle bus that can take me home? Or should I call an Uber? Does this place have an address or should I just send them an inverted cross?”

Still unamused by your inability to grasp the gravity of the situation, he just shakes his head and hands you his keys.

“Here just take my car, I’ll get a ride later, in fact stay at my house incase you’re followed”

He’s basically pushing you out of your seat and nodding to the door.

“Okay...bye I guess”

And with that you take off down the hall.

You know you’re supposed to go straight to the car. You’ve never seen Tyler look so serious in his life.

But when you walk past the chapel you can’t help but stop. You can still see the bodies up at the altar.

Why are they still there? Was there a trap door you missed and these were just doubles?

Or were these people so committed to the role and as crazy as your friend that they had to stay in the character of “dead sacrifice” all night?

Curiosity got the better of you, the car could wait, you had to see for yourself.

Closer inspection did nothing to stifle your suspicions.

It looked so real.

They weren’t breathing, so there was no way they were still the two actors, but you had never seen fake bodies look so real.

You're reminded of an anatomy class you took last semester.

Those cadavers looked suspiciously close to these.

Just colder and with less life left in their faces.

And there was so much blood, the iron was thick in the air.

But that couldn’t be true. Your friend wouldn’t kill someone would he?

He didn’t actually think they would kill you?

If you got a closer look, if you just swiped some of the “blood” with your pointer finger it would surely taste like corn syrup and not like…

“Are you afraid?”

You whip your head around, blood still staining your finger and beginning to drip onto the linoleum. To see Michael walking in the same way he had an hour earlier. Only this time without the cloak, but with some newly added confidence.

“They’re really dead aren’t they?” You know it’s true, but you still wait for his confirmation.

“Yes, that tends to happen when you slice someone’s throat” He acts as if this shouldn’t be a shock to you. It didn’t shock any of the other members of the congregation. Yet you know without him saying it, that he’s well aware you’re not like the others. That you don’t belong here.

“So you really sacrifice people, just to get stuff” you blurt out. Still trying to wrap your head around the fact that everything you witnessed tonight was real. Perhaps you shouldn’t have taken that last crescent roll you’d seen another satanist eyeing at dinner, you definitely have a curse coming your way. That is if you live through the night.

“Well not me” Michael says, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

“Oh of course, you’re the one they do it for”

“Well my father more specifically”

“Does that upset you?” You know you should be more careful about how you proceed with this conversation, but the words leave your mouth before your mind can stop them.

The question seems to catch him by surprise as he ruffles his brow, you’re not sure if it’s in anger or just shock at your brazenness. But he doesn’t answer. Just goes on to question you.

“Have you ever witnessed a murder before?”

“No”

“How did you feel watching it before your eyes?”

“Well I didn’t feel much, considering I thought it was all fake” That earns you a smile from him.

“And how do you feel now?”

“Curious”

“Really? Not scared?”

“No. Why should I be?” You’re really digging your own grave here. But your mouth seems to have a mind of its own.

“It seems your friend would say otherwise”

“Ah so you did hear.” You say, seeing his smile grow wider. “These aren't the days of the Old Testament, virginity doesn’t equally purity. Just ask sacrifice number one over there, with a body like that I doubt she was a virgin” you laugh, partially at your joke and partially out of sheer uncomfortableness. Michael doesn’t even spare the bodies a glance, eyes latched onto you, you go on to add

“I’m no saint. Despite my sexual history, or lack thereof”

“No, I’m sure you’re not” he emphasizes by swiping some of the liquid from your finger with his own, before taking it into his mouth. Making a show of it by closing his eyes as he releases it from his lips, slow as molasses. Smiling when he opens his eyes and sees you’re practically drooling.

Before his little show can go any further, you continue with your own questions.

“Have you killed people before?”

“Yes”

“How many?”

“You don’t have the time”

He’s looking at you waiting for your response. Waiting for the shock to subside and the shrieks of terror to take over.

Instead you just pause thinking everything over.

You should be scared, you know you should.

In one night you have watched two people die, found out your friend is a murderer, and that the Antichrist is not only NOT a myth, but is standing in front of you, conversing with you like he’s nothing more than your new neighbor.

Yet you search and search in your mind for any hint of fear and come up empty. All you feel is curiosity. You must be losing it too, you feel bad for judging Tyler so harshly. Maybe it’s his youthful face and the little outburst in the dining hall earlier, but Michael seems like more than simply the ‘incarnation of evil’. He seems so...human.

And more than anything he just seems confused and dare you say, lost.

“Do you like killing people? Or do you do it because it’s expected?”

“It depends”

“Would you like to kill me?”

Now it’s his turn to take pause, looking like he’s trying to decide if he’s “in the mood” to take your life.

“Not right now”

You can’t help but laugh at that (yea you’re definitely in shock). Soon enough he joins in too, and the mood feels lighter than it has all night. You might even say you feel comfortable.

That is until the laughter subsides and you meet his eyes. He’s now staring at you with the same intensity you’d met earlier at dinner.

It’s like he’s looking right through you, into your soul. You feel on display and more than anything afraid of what he might find.

“Stop that”

“Stop what?” He says with a playful tone and a tilt of his head.

“You’re..well..I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t like it. You’re trying to get a read on me or something.”

He just smiles at that, because of course he does.

You know there is no avoiding playing into his hand. He wants to get a rise out of you, in one way or another.

“And what do yo-”

“Y/N!”

At the mention of your name you both turn to see Tyler standing in the doorway.

Antichrist or not, the look Michael gives him is enough to send a wave of fear up your spine.

He appears as though he’s about to snap his neck through just a look(and you're afraid to find out if he could).

Noticing his anger, Tyler stops and bows before Michael, apologizing incessantly for interrupting him.

You don’t miss the twitch of Michael’s lips. He’s clearly loving the effects he has on his followers.

You just roll your eyes at your friend.

“Calm down Tyler, get up”

He just let’s your words pass over him as if you hadn’t even spoken. If he hadn’t been the one to call your name a moment ago, you wouldn’t be sure he even knew you were in the room.

Every sense he had was aimed at Michael, and it was only when his precious dark lord gave him a nod that he got up and looked your way again.

“What are you doing? I thought you were going home?” He says through clenched teeth.

If he weren’t so worried about keeping you alive he would be pissed at you for not listening.

“I was. I am” you reassure him turning to Michael.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Michael, I’ll see myself out”

You are scurrying out of the room, grabbing a frozen Tyler and tugging him along with you, when Michael calls after you.

“No y/n, the pleasure was all mine.”

You’re at the end of the hall, and in the middle of Tyler’s scolding session, when you realize there is still blood on your finger.

It feels like it’s vibrating where Michael touched you, begging you to take notice.

Just wipe it on your jeans, you tell yourself.

Wait until you get to the car and find a napkin.

Do anything rational other than what you're thinking.

As you pass through the exit door, you cave and take a taste of the crimson on your finger.

Although you can’t see him, you know Michael is smiling. You can feel his smugness in the air around you and you're sure he knows what you just did.

This started out just as me wanting to make some jokes about Michael and the Satanists and has somehow turned into a multi-chapter fic. I still don’t really know where it’s going I’m just letting it take on a mind of it’s own. If it looks familiar it’s cuz it’s been on ao3 for a little bit now, so sorry it’s not a “new” new story! If you liked it that makes me very happy, and if not I hope it was at least entertaining! Either way thank you for reading!

(I wasn’t sure who wanted to be tagged just in my Xavier fic and who did in general so I didn’t add a tag list to this one)