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floralseokjin · 4 years ago

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⤑ made-up love song i.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year.

No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car.

You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot.

You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror.

“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably.

You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am.

There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out.

“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason.

You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger.

When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–”

He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.”

The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.”

You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car.

“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.

“What happened?” You asked hotly.

He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”

“Were you on your phone?”

“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it.

“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”

“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.”

You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you.

“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!

He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.”

“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again.

His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...”

“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age.

“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you!

“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.”

You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”

“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken.

“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.”

“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury.

“No?”

His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.”

You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money.

“But I did this.”

He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom.

“Wait,” he called out.

“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat.

“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…”

He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today.

After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time.

You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…

Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements –

You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”

Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you.

You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”

“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?”

He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”

Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous.

“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.”

You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”

The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.”

“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…”

You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…”

“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today.

You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised.

You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment.

“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.”

You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.”

He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?”

Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?”

“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell?

He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.”

You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too. Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.”

Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.”

Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…”

“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people.

Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…”

Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.”

“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here?

On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.”

You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?”

“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.”

“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody.

“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.”

You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?”

Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.”

You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.”

His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?”

“Not too far, Miss.”

He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.”

He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight.

You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be.

After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house.

She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.”

You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.”

“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”

After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week.

Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible.

You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by.

Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater.

There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet…

It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September.

“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father.

“Oh, hello again.”

You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.

You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden?

“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk.

He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.”

“What?”

You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–

“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?”

“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe.

“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.”

Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it.

You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”

You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then.

Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”

Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened.

“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”

You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say.

Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve.

That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope.

“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug.

“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”

“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?”

Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now.

He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”

Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”

“Hm?”

That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.”

His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.”

You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you.

“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”

Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too.

He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course.

You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny.

Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”

He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”

“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.”

“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in.

You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.”

He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”

“I didn’t want you to pay!”

He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”

“You’re calling me absurd?”

He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.”

He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.”

You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”

“Oh?” He seemed sceptical.

You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too.

He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.

“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover…

“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself.

You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask.

“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”

No, neither were you.

“I really am sorry about that.”

He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?”

“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…”

You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious.

He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.”

Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.”

He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”

You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him?

“How will you get home?”

Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly.

“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again.

“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.”

“Kid?”

“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…

“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured.

“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”

“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised.

“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.”

He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.”

You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know.

“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”

You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.

“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled.

“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically.

He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew.

You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.”

“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested.

You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.

You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.”

He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark…

“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”

“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it.

“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.”

“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.”

No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.”

He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.”

“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise.

He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.”

You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.”

“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you.

“You were definitely flirting back.”

You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.”

She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.”

It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing.

“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?”

“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully.

“Find out tomorrow.”

“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.”

Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.”

“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.

Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”

You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.”

She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!”

You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now?

Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months.

Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant.

You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it.

You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?!

Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you.

It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”

You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…”

“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”

“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near.

With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed.

But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point.

The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.”

Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave?

“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”

Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside.

You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here…

“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home.

Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like.

“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out.

“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.”

She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever.

You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name.

“Miss. Y/L/N!”

You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave.

“Hi, Arin,” you greeted.

That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.”

You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?”

“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”

“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?”

“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.”

Arin gave a little shrug. “She’s always busy.”

In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower. You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say.

“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head.

He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he?

“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”

He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.”

She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”

He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.”

You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”

Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone.

“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.”

You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that?

You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!

That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you.

You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?”

His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.”

“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”

“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant.

“No.” So was he.

“Mr. Kim.”

“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face.

“Tell me!”

He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you.

What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.”

You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?”

Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?”

It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?”

“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.”

He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money.

So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.)

“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”

He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.”

You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.”

He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”

Really? Interesting… “Mr –

“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.”

You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.”

He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”

You nodded.

He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”

“How far?” Now you were too.

“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine.

“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?”

You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude.

“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?”

That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay?

You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself.

That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible.

What the hell was wrong with you?!

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin smut #bts smut #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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sohin-ace · 3 years ago

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Josuke & Okuyasu - Magazine

Inspired by that one fanart I can't use because I can't find the artist.

Enjoy~

'Boys will be boys'.

We don't count the times this excuse was used to justify the hormone-driven and often stupid decisions or behaviors of male teenagers.

This applies to our two protagonists, Josuke and Okuyasu who just happened to be at that age where boys were curious about their own selves but most importantly of course, curious about the opposite sex.

They couldn't really be blamed, sexuality was a normal part of a teenager's life after all. Which may or may not imply them oogling questionable things here and there or watching specific videos, for instance.

Josuke and Okuyasu decided to feast their eyes as a part of their numerous 'bro dates' as they called them, and made it a regular thing.

Of course, they made these moments very secret. Only them could know what sinful things they were doing after school. They trusted no one else than each other and nobody should ever know about their activities.

They especially couldn't let a girl know about their shenanigans. Oh no, that would be an absolute disaster if they were to be caught red-handed by a girl from their school. They would have to carry the heavy title of 'disgusting perverts', stamped right on their foreheads for the rest of their highschool years, if not their life.

One day as they got out of school, they decided to check out the X-rated section of a local konbini, section placed strategically in the far corner of the shop, and opened some nice porn magazine for their needy eyes. As one does.

"Yoooo Josuke check this out!" Okuyasu exclaimed to his friend while pointing to one of the pages, already blushing madly and coughing up an impressed chuckle.

"Oh my god!!" Josuke whisper-yelled to his friend, trying to not catch people's attention. "That's hot! You think those boobs are real?"

They kept on drooling over pictures of sexy women in bikinis or underwear and posing suggestively for 10 more solid minutes, completely forgetting about their surroundings.

They weren't really worried about getting caught as the section they were in was pretty far away from the entrance of the store and nobody really passed by this corner of the shop anyways.

As they were in their own little fantasy world, they didn't notice a certain H/C haired female coming up behind them.

"Hey isn't that the red head girl from last time?" Josuke commented as he pointed at a certain picture.

"The one who was licking a cherry? Yeah I think so." Replied his tan best friend who started chuckling.

"Who even licks cherries like that?"

"I don't know but she can lick my cherry if you know what I'm sayin'~"

They both snorted obnoxiously and stupidly to themselves until they suddenly heard a very familiar someone right behind them.

"Hey guys! What's up!"

The boys jumped, screaming high pitched 'Eeeks' and 'Uwahs' at the sound of your sweet voice startling them into the worst heart attack they'd ever experience, threatening to cut their short lives even shorter.

Josuke nearly dropped the lewd magazine from his clammy hands and they both turned around abruptly, sweating bullets as they desperately and clumsily hid the piece of dirty evidence behind their backs.

'Oh no. God, everything but not this...' They both thought in unison, as if connected.

The last thing they could have ever expected or wanted, was seeing YOU, of all people, here out of all places and now, out of all times. They really had the worst luck. Suddenly, getting struck by thunder seemed appealing.

"O-o-oh hey Y/N-chan..." Okuyasu stuttered shakily, still sweating profusely.

"What uh... Ahem... What are you doing... here...?" Josuke continued clearing his tight throat and eyeing his best friend with rising anxiety.

The boys were silently communicating, trying to come up with anything, any excuse to either hide their shameful crime from you, or make you leave as soon as possible. They had to work their so-called 'bro-telepathy' like they never did before.

"I was passing by to get some strawberry milk, but then I recognized your hair in the distance! I'm so glad to see you!" You smiled angelically at them while showing them your little pink carton of strawberry milk like it was some prize.

You were beaming so brightly at them, they almost had to squint at your radiating light and beauty. Oh no this was bad, they were both striked by you like an arrow right through their heart.

'She.... SHE'S TOO CUTE FOR THIS WORLD!' They both screamed in their heads.

You, in particular, should never know about what they were doing. EVER. You were way too pure and too innocent for this. Who knows what your reaction would be if you discovered their lewd secrets? Would you judge them? Be disgusted by them? Never talk to them ever again? They couldn't possibly risk that.

Sadly, they were not as glad to see you here as you were to see them. You eventually asked them the oh-so-dreaded question that they wished you'd never ask.

"So, what were you boys doing? Reading manga?" You leaned over to the side slightly trying to see what they were hiding behind their backs and they both panicked.

Obviously you didn't notice the big 'R18' sign over all three of your heads and surely, you couldn't know what this part of the store was since you probably never checked it in your entire life.

In an amazingly coordinated moment, Josuke swiftly handed the magazine to Okuyasu while walking towards you, passing in front of the Jobro, the action completely hidden from your sight.

Josuke came in front of you and grabbed your shoulders, smiling big and trying to act as natural as he could.

"Aah um yes! Manga! Actually there's this one manga I wanted to show you, good thing you're here!" The pompadour-haired haafu was still obviously in utter panick, even if he tried his best to play it cool.

As Josuke was trying to deflect your attention from their guilty pleasure, Okuyasu took this advantage to turn around and scurriedly hide the magazine back in it's original shelf.

You were confused at their shady behavior and furrowed your eyebrows a little bit. You noticed Josuke was sweating and panting slightly, but your eyes traveled to Okuyasu fumbling with the magazines behind and you tried to make out what he was doing.

But Josuke wouldn't let you discover their evil plan for anything in the world, and so, he cupped both your cheeks in his large hands earning a gasp from you as he almost squished them, and turned your head back to face him.

He leaned down to your height and your eyes widened, puzzled by his spontaneous actions.

"Y/N Look at me! Look at my eyes!" He stared at you with a serious expression and you blushed at his sudden bold act and how close he was.

"J-jojo...?" You yelped as your heart was beating fast in your chest.

You were so confused as to what the hell was going on and why they were acting so weird. You knew the two could be up to some truly bizarre adventures sometimes, but that was just so strange.

Whatever they were trying to distract you from, it was working. His face was so close to yours, and his big hands were so warm, you subconsciously put your small ones over his wrists in response, face now red with blood and adrenaline.

You were beyond puzzled at everything that was happening, but you were so lost in Josuke's ocean blue eyes, you completely forgot about what Okuyasu was hiding so clumsily.

Speak of the devil, the tan male suddenly came up to you both, and Josuke released you from his grasp as his best friend made a surprisingly genius offer.

"Ohh Y/N, you didn't pay for that milk yet, right? Good, it's my treat then! Josuke, let's get some too! I'm thirsty."

The scar-faced boy casually wrapped a large arm around your shoulders and swiflty turned you around in his strong hold, effectively dragging you away from the adult section of the store, and barely letting you any time to even glance at the overly sexual display around you.

"Eh? What about that manga you wanted to show me?" You looked back at Josuke, regaining your composure slowly.

"Oh that? Never mind, it's not important anyway- Hey Okuyasu, do you want banana flavor or chocolate?" The fourth Jojo quickly changed the subject as he opened the fridge doors and picked up some drinks.

"You guys are acting so weird today..." You loved the boys, and they usually brought you into their messes, that wasn't anything new, but sometimes you really couldn't understand them. "I'll go wait in line while you guys make up your minds."

You gently patted Okuyasu's chest who almost forgot to let you go and you walked away towards the cash register.

When you were finally out of earshot, they both stared at each other, thinking of how they just dodged a bullet so big, it might as well just have been an atomic bomb.

"D-dude... That was so clutch man...." Josuke sighed, still swallowing his stress out and his best friend only shut his eyes and cringed before grabbing his drink.

"Just shut up, let's not talk about it..."

"Aaahh!!" Okuyasu let out a loud sigh of delight as he sipped his banana milk. "Man, that hit the spot."

"Yeah! Nothing better than some fresh milk in the summer. Great idea Y/N."

You three walked out of the store and headed back home, enjoying your drinks. You giggled at their over-the-top reaction and handed them your own carton.

"You guys want to try strawberry flavor?"

"Oohh~" Okuyasu gushed before smirking and taking the item from your hands. "An indirect kiss from my little Y/N! Lucky~"

Josuke gasped and snatched the drink as well, snickering when he was done. "Can't say no when she's the one who proposed huehue!"

"Well you both drank from the same straw, so technically you two kissed too!" You laughed at their priceless shocked facial expressions.

"WHAT?!"

"Naah dude, no homo, no homo." Josuke patted his friend's back, reassuring him with the holy expression famous for saving countless men from potential homosexuality.

Okuyasu sighed in relief. "Yeah, no homo! Still in the bro zone, bro."

You snorted at their questionable reasoning and kept on walking when you suddenly saw two familiar faces coming towards you.

"Oh! It's Koichi and Yukako!" You waved and smiled at the couple who approached you.

"Oh hey guys, what are you doing?" The short male greeted with a smile.

"Oh nothing much, I bumped into them in the konbini." You sheepishly answered and Yukako quirked an eyebrow at the two suspicious looking males next to you.

"Really?" She feigned, still staring at them. "What were they doing without you I wonder..."

"I don't know, reading manga I think? I'm not sure, they wouldn't tell me." You tried to look between her and them and they seemed to glare at the girl as hard as she did them.

"Huh?" She scoffed and shifted her weight on one leg." I bet you guys were reading porn again. Y/N I can't believe your patience around those guys."

"HUUUHHH???" Koichi yelled in pure surprise at the revelation and you three widened your eyes.

"YOU FREAKIN- OH MY GOD SHUT UP!" Okuyasu gasped and screamed at the girl who was smirking in victory.

"W-what?" You stuttered and looked at the two visibly stressed boys. "Po-... I don't- ... What??"

"Y/N DON'T LISTEN TO HER SHE'S LYING!" Josuke guiltily tried to reason as you covered your mouth in shock.

"Well it's the truth, right? Did I hit a sensitive subject, perhaps?" The brunette chuckled cutely, infuriating your friends even more.

"YOU'RE DEAD!!!"

Josuke sprinted towards Yukako who easily hoisted her awe-struck boyfriend over her shoulder and ran for dear life, having no regrets whatsoever.

An old one. A very old fic, it hurts to read it. I'm going to go ahead and post some old stuff I wrote just to get them out of my drafts. I hope they'll be enough for my beautiful gangsters.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo #jojo no kimyou na bouken #writing #x reader #reader insert #jojo part 4 #part 4 #diamond is unbreakable #josuke higashitaka #nijimura okuyasu #platonic #josuke x reader #okuyasu x reader

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kawaiijohn · 3 years ago

Text

Rewind, Rinse, Repeat Chapter 1

For Invisobang Minibang 2021

Ao3 Link

Chapters: 3 finished, 12 total Rating: T+ Warnings: Major and Minor Character Death- all temporary, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Strong Language, Mild Body Horror, Mild Injury. Other warnings listed by chapter Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Pariah Dark, Levi | Leviathan (OC), Mal (OC), Observants, Mentions of other characters Ships: Lost Time, Dark Ages, CW & OC child, CW & Levi | Leviathan (OC) Genre/Tropes: Human AU, Magic AU, Found Family, Character Origin, Hurt/Comfort, Original Magic System and Lore Additional Tags: Existentialism & Existential Angst, Memory Loss & Amnesia, Corruption, Clockwork Centric, They/Them Pronouns for Clockwork, The Fenton's A+ Parenting, Obersvant Bashing

Summary

“Clockwork can I ask you something? How did you become a ghost?”

The tale surrounding the mystery of Clockwork's existence; a world where magic is common and ghosts are not. A world where one lonely, average mage tries with all their might to save what means most to them. A world where things need to be remade into something better.

Shout out to my betas @bibliophilea and @moonlights-shadow-warrior for keeping me sane, @13thdoodle for letting me use their OC, Levi, @dailudannos and @sailor-toni for providing art for later chapters, and all the folks over at @invisobang for being awesome!!!!

Chapter One below the Cut. The rest is available on my Ao3 account because tumblr linking/posting is hella broken.

Chapter 1: An Inquiry

“Hey, Clockwork? Can I ask you something?”

Clockwork looks over from the mirror they were watching intently. “You already have, Daniel,” they reply, offering the other a smirk.

“Oh, ha ha. You've never said that to me before.” The reply is filled to the brim with sarcasm, as per usual. Danny rolls his eyes, but a small smile gracing his lips betrays the fact he isn't annoyed in the least. “Seriously, though. It’s something that's been on my mind like... every day for the last two weeks!!" He raises his hands towards the sky, flopping back in the air dramatically. "But... it's kinda, y'know. Personal-” Danny trails off, slightly embarrassed.

Of course. Clockwork finds themself smiling fondly- Danny thought he’d said something he shouldn't have- an inquiry that could make his guardian upset (as if it's even possible to upset Clockwork like that). A question is a question, and this is a worrying habit of his that the Time Master is trying to help break, even if it's still somewhat endearing to them.

“I uh, I mean... it’s personal about- to you, not to me. That’s what I meant!!” Danny continued.

Clockwork stares at him, unblinking. An idea (or thousands) of what he may ask flashes through their mind’s eye. With a single, calming pulse to their Core, Clockwork pushes the involuntary slideshow of timelines aside as if they're no more than curtains. They need to focus on the window in front of them; the here and now, not the temporal drapery.

It's a habit they are trying to overcome for Daniel’s sake. To ensure their ward's growth, they need to stop peering into the near future as often- not discourage his asking of questions. After all, what is a child if not but a well of endless curiosity? Cutting Danny off is also sure to disallow the development of any trust or patience Clockwork needs to build within their young ward. They wouldn’t receive either of those things if they assume what he wanted to ask.

It's common decency to not assume, lest it ‘make an ass out of you and me’, according to Daniel.

It is going to be a tough habit to break, but by the (other) Ancients, they're trying their best. Their ward deserves the infinitesimal choices all other children have when asking things of their guardians, so even if they do glimpse to the future, they will not mention it to him. Clockwork refuses and will continue to refuse to take their ward’s agency away; to not have a choice in things is a fate worse than fading.

The boy has been quiet, stuck deep within his own thoughts even after an impressive five minutes and thirty-seven and a half seconds of silence (uncharacteristic of the boy, Clockwork notes).

Now that just won't do- he must have lost his train of thought. Clockwork gestures at the ghost boy, motioning for him to continue. It works- Danny adverting his eyes and clearing his throat, "Well, it’s just like- you know so much about me- like, how I died, the whole Ghost Zone Prince business, that entire disaster doomed timeline with Dan... I just keep thinking- no- realizing, that I barely know anything about you!!” He throws his arms up in thinly veiled frustration.

Clockwork smirks. “You had another question, did you not?” They place a hand along the edge of the closest Temporal Mirror, turning to face the mirror- still halfway facing Danny. They can see his inner debate clearly written on the boy's face- the mirror reflecting as if it were an ordinary object (for now). They turn towards it fully and watch Daniel's reaction from behind them, acting as if they aren't finding joy in their ward's hesitation. It's always adorable when he tries not to offend Clockwork. "I may be able to work with time, but that doesn't mean I wish to float here waiting for an answer all day."

Danny blinks a few times, rolling his eyes again in response. Clockwork is certain that if they weren’t secured to his skull by human musculature they’d fall out and roll away. “Well, I’m sorry for trying not to be rude and like, asking outright... but since it’s you I have to always be super direct!! Jeeze you’re frustrating sometimes!” He floats towards his mentor, crossing his arms.

Danny often forgets Clockwork isn't easily upset over trivial things such as questions. Most questions are about things they already know the answers to, anyways. And the few things that they don’t know when asked, they figure out soon after. Such is the duty of the Master of Time- to be a step ahead of everyone and everything else always. Besides, in most timelines (68.3% of them, to round up) the question Daniel wishes to ask is along the lines of ‘What was your past like?’ Another small fraction (a little under 20%) the question is ‘How did you get so strong?’ . And even in the remaining timelines, the question would be along the lines of ‘How do your time powers work?’

They are each things Clockwork expects Daniel to ask them at some point or other, as it were. There isn’t really anything Daniel can ask that could be too shockin-

“Clockwork, I was wondering… how exactly did you become a ghost?”

They... did not see that coming… in any of the timelines they’d glimpsed. Clockwork stills for only a fraction of a moment, but it’s long enough for Danny to flinch, feeling as if he’s crossed a line. They hear more than see Daniel shrinking in on himself as they look off into nothing, buried memories waking slowly in their mind.

Clockwork is brought from their introspection by a mumbled curse. “Shit! I mean... uh crap??" They just stare at Danny as they are brought back to the present. "Never mind just... sorry for asking... Oh man! Did I offend you somehow? Ancients dammit, this is what I was worried about!!” They watch him curiously, soft whirring coming from their ward's anxious core. “We can just forget about it if-” Daniel’s hands wring together nervously, shoulders tense with worry and face full of guilt.

Right- facial expressions are also important for a young ghost's emotional communication and development. Sometimes the Time Master wonders if their isolation in Long Now affected their social behavior (it did). Their face is carefully blank most times, so they set to fix it- they offer a small grin, hand coming to rest on Daniel’s shoulder. “It is more than fine, Daniel. You asked if you could ask a question- which is in fact, two questions, I should note- but I gave you consent to ask it of me.” They squeeze his shoulder to placate the worry.

“It’s about time I told you this story, as it were. I just did not foresee it being told at this very moment." Clockwork floats slowly, turning away from their Mirrors. "Come along- it’s best we sit for this. I’ll have one of your friends bring us some tea.”

Danny floats after his mentor, looking around the room the two normally use to study history of the Realms. “So, uh… is it a long story or...?”

“Oh, it is very long, indeed.” They fly through an ornate door and over to their favored 'chair'- a stack of comfortable cushions in violets and blues, both impossibly cool and warm at the same time. They recall Daniel discovering the room, eyes full of wonder and posture relaxed. Clockwork chuckles- the first time their boy had wandered in here he'd decided to take a running dive into the pile, jumping up in surprise when it was cold as ice, yet warm as fresh laundry. The expression on their ward’s face is one of their fondest memories; a happy moment amongst all the tedium of watching time.

“It may take a while to tell this tale proper. But, it is a story that ought to be told.” Daniel makes himself comfortable on his chair of choice- an unholy combination of 'borrowed' pillows and what appears to be a more modern gaming chair- complete with an obnoxiously bright green-black color scheme. Clockwork has to hide another smile as Danny wiggles himself deep into the pile. “So, Daniel- what do you know of the phrase ‘Totems of Power’?”

“I thought I was getting a story, not a pop quiz! Unfair!!” His disdain for schooling makes Clockwork laugh fondly before the boy continues. “But they’re like… hmm how do I explain this? Well, there’s the universe right? Like every timeline and every result of every timeline all at the same time kind of ties into the main universe thingy- but there's still a main timeline, and that's kinda like... Main Street, and the other possible timelines are uh... like side streets with dead ends? But there's other forces that like, aren't time and… uhhh...”

He hums, crossing his arms deep in thought. Clockwork takes the time to purr-sing-hum at one of the many blobs floating in and out of their lair; Daniel had asked them to keep some around as pets and the Time Master was happy to oblige. They were unable to deny something so beneficial to the young Prince, after all. The one deemed ‘Mr. Pants’ by one of Daniel’s friends answers their call. Clockwork buzzes to it a quiet request- ‘bring Daniel's favorite tea and mugs for two, please.’ The little thing chirrups and zips off through the walls- eager to serve the Lair’s owner and be (potentially) rewarded with pats (from Daniel).

The Time Master brings their undivided attention back toward a grumbling ghost boy, lost in thought. “Daniel if you need to ask for help I’m glad to-”

Danny snaps his fingers, coming to a realization before his mentor can finish. “I got it!! The best way to explain it is ‘The Universe needs to run smoothly, so there’s certain forces- like Time or Space- that are upheld by a powerful entity, like a person or like… the avatar of that concept? Yeah, something like that, but they ensure the aspect they represent is properly cared for so the universe doesn’t completely like, die.’” Danny nods to himself. "It's why you stepped in to stop Dan, to make sure the world didn't end like that."

“That is correct- it is my job to ensure this universe of ghosts and reality doesn't crumble prematurely. Now, do you have a recollection of any other Totems you may have encountered?”

“Well, yeah! We call them ‘Ancients’, though- so like… Pandora is the one for war and history, and Nocturn is for like… dreams? The Void or something, maybe? And then there’s old man Pariah who isn’t one, but he said there’s a Leadership Ancient somewhere, and then-” Danny pauses, blinking at Clockwork in realization. “Wait, you asked that for a reason, didn’t you?”

“That I did. Becoming the Totem, or Ancient of Time is where this story starts.” Clockwork hums, seeing Mr. Pants fly back towards the two- nearly spilling scalding tea all over the ground. “Now then. We have drinks. We are sitting comfortably. I believe it’s time I spin my tale for you.” They take a sip, closing their eyes in bliss.

They open them once more and see Daniel sitting, eyes full of stars and eager- Eager to hear, eager to fire off a question a minute. It makes a chuckle bubble up in their throat, to see their favorite person so excited to learn.

“Once upon a time, there was a human; average in most ways, a simple person living a simple life. They would get up in the morning, perform their daily tasks, and go to sleep at night. Day in, and day out- a boring, but fulfilling existence.

“However, where this story differs from what we recognize as reality, is that in this realm, humans who could control magic were the norm. Think as if it were like one of those fantasy games you and Tucker play together- mages, healers… all of those and more were commonplace when I was alive. Yes, humans can wield magic now, but it is nowhere near as frequent as they could in our tale.”

They pause, seeing that Danny was about to interrupt. “Wait wait- this realm? Like- this is a completely different reality?? And people can wield magic now??? Are you messing with me? Like… I thought it was all just-” The boy stops, his train of thought drifting off the tracks as it tends to now and then.

“Yes, first, this is a completely different realm from either the Mortal Plane or the Ghost Zone. Second, Daniel- tell me... have you not noticed the magic of those you have encountered? Blood blossoms… a reality warping gauntlet? The existence that is ‘Freakshow’ in general should be a red flag, seeing as his talents were… strangely non-ghostly in origin. Not to mention objects such as the Infi-map...”

“Man, I wish I could forget about Freakshow… who mind controls ghosts??? He was the worst!” Their young ward crossed his arms and grumbles.

“If you’re done sulking about your past misadventures and former foes, I was in the middle of telling a story, if I recall correctly. One you asked I tell you…” Clockwork simply stares, unblinking as steam wafts from their slowly cooling tea.

All is well, they knew Danny would only take approximately 4.85 seconds to snap his attention back to their story. Clockwork sips their tea, waiting.

Danny snaps out of his thoughts only a millisecond off of Clockwork's prediction. “Sorry... it’s just super weird to think that magic actually… still exists? Like ghosts are real and all but magic being a thing feels a bit far fetched, don’t ya think?” He pouts, brow furrowed.

The Master of Time finally closes their eyes, removing the hood from their head. White hair floats gracefully behind them, settling just past their shoulders. Clockwork opens their eyes again- a serious, yet warm expression directed at their ward. “Magic is simply defined as reality altering acts using both energy and the willpower of a sentient being, if that helps.” Another sip. Mr. Pants made a wonderful batch of tea, as always. They smile wider when they notice Danny’s expression- the boy has never seen them without a hood, and they know doing this will (in 99.78% of all possible timelines) convince the boy to take what they said seriously. ”Just as ghosts can be defined as ‘ectoplasm given form and consciousness’, forces beyond humanity and the physical realm can be explained with scientific terminology if you know where to look.”

“So like... what all did magic have to do with this ‘simple human’ version of you? Did you ever have the power to shoot lightning?? Could I shoot lightning if I tried? Like were you some sorta time wizard? Is that why you’re all… timey-wimey and powerful?” Danny wiggles his fingers with a look of confusion on his face.

Clockwork always finds their Core warming when their boy acts his age. He's abnormally prone to shoulder the destiny of the world on himself and often forgets he's just a kid. “You could continue asking questions one at a time, or you could allow me to tell my story. The choice is yours, Daniel.” They smirk, watching as Danny purses his lips, his steady flow of questions stopping short. The best answer. “Perfect- all is as I thought it would be.”

They close their eyes and reminisce as they continue. “Now- to answer your last question… Yes. You could say magic is how I came to be the Master of Time in both the Infinite Realms and the mortal plane, but there is much more to the story than that. Other players, situations, and pure circumstances. The universe in its infinite chances and possibilities brought myself, as well as many others to the situations they face here and now.” Clockwork pauses, taking the moment to stare straight through Danny’s soul. “Even yourself.”

The boy shudders, an appropriate response. “Wait... me? Did you… do something in the past to like… a past version of someone we know?? Can that even happen???” Danny is already enraptured by the story, eyes twinkling as his mentor opens up about themself. The boy is obviously thinking about everything that has happened, everything that could possibly have happened, and everything that Clockwork could possibly drop on him.

They feel Daniel cautiously tug on loose strands of time to see if he could possibly scope out what is about to be said, quickly failing to do much else beside give himself a small headache. “Time stuff is still really confusing, Clockwork…”

“You could say that. You could even say that trying to mess with time in the inner sanctum of Long Now is the most confusing ‘time stuff’ one could do if they were not myself.” They grin- a Temporal Mirror appearing behind them with a thought.

“What’s the mirror for?” Danny catches sight of himself and looks away, embarrassed that he’s been literally glowing with power after trying to do something so simple with his developing powers. The glow is something he’s been working on suppressing recently. After all, it would be a shame if other ghosts could see the boy powering up by aura alone.

The Master of Time smirks, bringing tea to their lips again. “I thought it would be fun to attempt braiding my hair and doing my makeup for once. It has been an awfully long time since I’ve done either.”

They stare at Danny who just bursts into laughter. “Did you just use sarcasm??? Man, I didn’t know you could lighten up, Clockwork!” The boy laughs harder, sinking deeper into his nest of pillows. After a few minutes he was finally wiping tears from his eyes. “But no. Seriously… what’s the mirror for??”

“Why, what they are always for, Daniel- seeing through time and space.” Clockwork waves their hand. The mirrors show an image of a human with dark hair and burgundy eyes. They have a large, hooked nose and medium brown skin- and Danny finds himself having a hard time guessing their gender. The human sits at a desk, paused in time with the delicate gears of a clock sprawled along the desk surface, tools in hand.

Behind Clockwork, the image changes, showing the human living through an average day- images play in small spurts, never showing the whole story. “Do you understand what’s being seen?” The young boy nods, grabbing Mr. Pants out of the air as the blob drifts between the two. Good, he will probably need the companionship, especially towards the end.

This isn’t the easiest story to tell, nor is it easy to listen to, but with a sip of their tea, Clockwork continues.

#danny phantom #invisobang #invisobang 2021 #dp #phanfic #art #my fic #RRR #dantes vibe corner

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forehead-enthusiast · 4 years ago

Text

Checkmate

Pairing: Haechan x Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, fluff but it gets slightly steamy at one point (still totally sfw)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: You and Haechan get engaged, because anything is better than the process of trying to get engaged. That being said, having a fiancé you hate isn’t that much better.

Author’s notes: remember me???????? I’m alive, yeah. I’m super proud of this fic, I think it’s my best ever, so please give it a read!!

Haechan inhaled the overwhelming scent of floral perfume, and barely managed to stifle a gag. His father arranged for him to meet more and more foreign princesses every week, and he wondered where the man even kept finding them. Were there even this many countries? The prince’s surroundings were beginning to blend into a blur of painted smiles and emotionless eyes. He cursed that stubborn old man in his mind, and questioned furiously why it was even so important that he find a bride any time soon. Still, no matter how much he despised it, he knew his father wouldn’t accept anything less.

He looked into the sea of lace gowns and resigned himself.

Maybe he’d just choose someone. Anyone. He smiled morosely, knowing all the women there were only after their shot at the throne anyway. They were here to use him, why shouldn’t he use them too? The apathetic thought left a bad taste on his tongue. Still, in his exhaustion at his circumstances, it seemed more and more reasonable the longer he considered it.

He searched throughout the crowd of giggling princesses, unable to distinguish between their faces.

One after another, they approached him, with candied smiles and words that were far too practiced. One after another, they convinced him a loveless marriage with someone half-decent was far preferable to enduring this a moment longer. One after another, they revealed themselves to be absolutely unbearable, and Haechan grew more and more desperate to find someone that didn’t make him want to throw himself off a balcony after three sentences.

You stood at the back of the crowd, prodded by impatient elbows and sneered at by women hiding their smirks behind fans. You rolled your eyes, unable to understand this need, this hunger to marry someone they’d never met. That was your problem, according to your parents. And your advisors. And your tutors. According to everyone, really. You’d been to so many different kingdoms, trying to seduce unfamiliar princes, but could never bring yourself to actually put any effort into it. The carriage that shipped you to each one was beginning to feel more like home than the castle you’d left.

You watched girl after girl leave the ballroom, looking thoroughly dejected. It was hard not to relish in their failure just a bit, but you dreaded whatever high standards this prince was going to judge you with. You had little to offer. Your background, your kingdom, your land- none could remotely compare to his. Your parents were completely insane to even think you had anything that would make you lucrative as a bride to him.

Maybe they’re hoping he’ll behead me. You chuckled.

Still, the crowd continued to thin, and you couldn’t put off meeting him forever. A few of the weaker-hearted girls nudged you forward, suddenly less eager to meet the sharp-tongued prince.

You sighed, and decided to get it over with.

Haechan rubbed at his temples, barely even looking at the girl who approached him now. He’d made up his mind to find a bride today, but his prospects weren’t looking so good. His eyes caught the hem of this princess’s dress. It was unadorned. He’d go so far as to call it plain. Many princesses were after his riches, but he’d never seen one that was so blatantly poor. Most at least tried to disguise their lack of wealth, so as to make them more desirable in terms of growing power. He half-chuckled, half-sighed. His gaze traced upward lazily, until it came across the first unsmiling face he’d seen all day. It shocked him so much that his hand dropped from his face, and he stood up instinctively.

“Your highness, thank you for allowing me to meet with you today-”

It was the most monotonous, disinterested introduction he’d ever heard, and his heart soared. You hadn’t even noticed he’d stood up. Incredible.

“Let’s get married.”

“I hope- excuse me?”

“Let’s get married. Can we go right now?” The question was directed to the attendant beside him, who sputtered at the prince’s sudden enthusiasm. No one, however, was more surprised at him than you. Your skirts were still clutched in your fists, your knees still bent in a curtsy. You couldn’t even manage to feel happy that he’d chosen you.

If anything, you felt angry.

He was rattling off instructions to his attendant about the wedding he’d already begun to plan, completely ignoring you. You hadn’t even responded to his proposal, if you could call his demand that. You tried to get in a polite word in time and time again, only for him to not even acknowledge you, until you got so sick of him talking you couldn’t stand it anymore.

“No!”

Finally, he turned to you.

“No?”

“I don’t want to marry you.” You ignored the consequences of your words, and avoided thinking about the awaiting rage of your parents.

The prince blinked.

Then he scoffed.

“Of course you do.”

You cocked an eyebrow, your expression not betraying how absolutely pissed those four words had made you. Instead, the first smile you’d shown him spread on your face. It was chillingly false, your eyes boring deep holes into his face as you sweetly replied:

“I’d burn down this castle before I married you, your highness. Good day.”

And with that, you turned and left the ballroom.

Haechan didn’t move for a few moments as he watched you stalk away, a picture of grace even in your anger. The women who remained and witnessed began to whisper, snapping him out of his shock. His head flicked around the room, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Then, just as you vanished around a corner, he took off after you.

He’d been turned down. How? Why? He was rich. He was influential. You were neither. He felt a nagging pang of guilt, but suppressed it. You were poor. His proposal was a generous offer, for you and your kingdom. You were the one losing out by rejecting him. So why? Why was he the one chasing after you? He cursed under his breath as he caught sight of your back.

“You! Wait up!”

You heard him calling, but only sped up.

“I will call the guards if you don’t stop this instant! I-I command you to stop!”

You did. Then you turned on your heel, with a glare that would send armies fleeing, and stomped towards him much faster than he knew a princess could. He flinched as you were suddenly toe to toe with him, taller than he expected. You seemed smaller when he was sitting on his throne. You sneered at his reaction.

“Do you need your guards just to take care of one woman, little prince?”

He flushed, but you didn’t let him respond.

“You don’t even know my name. I’m not, ‘you.’ I don’t know why you want to marry me, but if you want me to agree, maybe learn that first.”

“You-” Haechan fumbled, unused to someone being blunt with him. He flared up, unable to think straight.

“You’re lucky to get an offer like this, you know.”

He saw the way your eyes widened in indignation, but kept digging his own grave as if he’d find treasure eventually.

“You won’t get an opportunity like this again. And, for your information, I only want to get married so I can finally be done with all,” he gestured towards the direction of the ballroom you’d both just left, “this.”

Despite your anger, his reason struck a chord within you. Not that that made your tone any less cutting.

“So I’m supposed to be grateful that you’re using me?”

“We’re royalty. We’re all getting used by someone, aren’t we?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, and he could tell you didn’t find the idea all so repulsive. He pressed forward.

“You’re tired of it all too, aren’t you? Or do you want to keep getting shoved at princes? We’d both get our parents off our backs. It’s a good deal.”

It was frustrating, but your desire to stop meeting spoiled princes was beginning to outweigh your immense dislike of this one. And as much as you hated it, he was right when he said you wouldn’t get an offer as good as this one ever again. Maybe that’s why he chose you, you supposed. He knew you couldn’t afford to say no. (Not that that had stopped you.) It just angered you that he saw you as someone so desperate, so needy, so pitiful.

“...Fine.” You stuck out your hand in impersonal assent. “But. I don’t want to marry you.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“I’m not done, little prince.” He restrained his scowl and motioned for you to continue. “Let’s just get engaged. That’s enough reason to end all the marriage meetings, and then if it turns out I really just cannot stand you, we’ll call it off. Fine?”

“Fine.”

He shook your hand firmly.

Despite the way you both glared at each other, neither of you could deny how pleased you were with this arrangement.

While you sent word to your family, he went directly to his, who were thoroughly, almost obnoxiously happy that he’d found someone. He forced a grin and made up some lies about how he’d fallen for you at first sight. They weren’t exactly excited about your less than impressive background, but weren’t about to reject the only girl who’d managed to catch their discerning son’s eye.

Within a day, it was announced throughout all your fiancé’s kingdom that he’d found a woman to wed. You managed to laugh about how all the other princesses must be incredibly jealous of you at this moment, but couldn’t quite get over the fact that you were one foot into a lifelong commitment with the rudest man you’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. It was a troubling internal conflict. On one hand, he was the worst. On the other, the same could be said for just about every other prince you’d ever met. So really, it was an overall win that this one didn’t expect you to love or fawn over him.

At least, that’s what you repeated to yourself as you received the list of engagement events you were expected to attend alongside him.

“Do we really have to do this?” You groaned.

“Just shut up and smile, they’re about to see us.”

You reluctantly did as he said, forcing an exuberant grin onto an unwilling face. Your carriage turned into the courtyard, and crowds cheered wildly, as if they actually cared about your wellbeing in some way. You waved gently, relieved your upbringing was so ingrained within you that you could play your role without ceasing your fantasies of punching your fiancé in the face. As you reached your places of honor, Haechan offered a gallant hand to help you down, and you almost admired how well he played the part of a loving gentleman.

It was such a truly lovely banquet being thrown for you, it almost made you feel bad for lying. Haechan seemed to be thinking similarly, and, forgetting to be vindictive, leaned over to whisper jokingly in your ear.

“Poor fools actually think we’re in love.”

You laughed brightly without thinking. Both of you then remembered you hated each other, and stared at each other in shock before looking away sharply. You waved again, happy to be doing something that made sense to you. The hordes of celebrating nobles clapped and called out their congratulations again as soon as they saw you move, not wanting to get on the bad side of what they assumed was their future queen. That was a pretty nice feeling, and you accidentally smiled sincerely.

Haechan, still stunned by the sound of your real laugh, wasn’t prepared to see your real smile. His eyes widened. It was more beautiful than he expected, and didn’t threaten him with cavities the way every woman in his life’s did. If they were processed white sugar, you were honey with all the real sweetness in the world on your face. He hazily tried to remember when he last smiled genuinely. You turned to him with a gleam in your eye, and he took your hand before rationality could persuade him otherwise.

The smile dropped off your face, and your gaze flicked to your intertwined fingers, then to his expression, which seemed even more confused than yours somehow. He looked boyish and bashful, and you wondered if your haughty fiancé had a far more charming twin.

Lucky for Haechan, the crowd cheered yet louder at the sight of your supposed affection, and he tilted his head towards them as if to say, See, that's why. Normally, you wouldn't have believed it was part of his plan, but it was easier that way. You let him lift your entwined hands in some playfully bragging way, and rolled your eyes.

“Alright, so I get the bed.”

“That’s funny. No, I get the bed. It’s my kingdom!”

“You are not being very gentlemanly right now.”

“And you didn’t seem like the kind of girl who’d enforce those kinds of antiquities.”

You scowled, and Haechan looked smug, which only intensified your frustration.

“Fine. Then let’s decide fairly, little prince.” You loved to call him that, just to see him pretend it didn’t irk him. “If I beat you in chess, I get the bed. And vice versa.”

“...Fine, small princ- annoying- um- pret- dum-”

You couldn’t help but grin at his attempts. “Nice try, but I’m not immature enough to be annoyed by a silly nickname.”

Your fiancé grimaced and got out the chess board.

Hours later, you were still playing the first game of chess.

“Y/n… Can we… Can we…” Haechan yawned enormously, which of course prompted you to as well. “Can we maybe… call a truce for tonight? It’s a big bed. We have to be up early for a garden party.”

You wanted to rejoice in his surrender, but your eyes were teary with exhaustion. Instead of the easy win you expected, you’d been in the longest game of your life. It seemed like you two were well matched for one another.

As opponents, of course.

“Fine… But just- just for tonight. We’ll play again tomorrow.”

And with that, you both crawled into the truly extravagant bed, falling asleep before your heads hit the pillows.

Many nights passed, with an unfinished chess game at the end of each. It grew into something of a habit, a nightly chess game, always accompanied by bickering, of course. Neither of you ever managed to truly best the other, with every game ending the way the first did. As they continued, the bickering smoothed into mocking conversations, and sometimes you weren’t even mocking each other, but a common enemy. You would never admit it, but the pair of you started laughing together more often than you did at each other these days.

On some fateful Tuesday, for the first time ever, you saw a clear move to checkmate. The king was unguarded. For the first time, he was vulnerable. It was glaringly obvious, and you snuck a glance at your opponent’s face to see if it was a trap, but were taken aback when you found him already staring at you. He didn’t look triumphant or concerned, but he somehow looked… nervous. Or maybe expectant? And then you realized. He was far too good a player to make an error like this one. He was offering you a choice, from one royal with too much pride to admit they enjoyed the other’s company to another. It would be easy to end this game right now, and banish him to the floor.

You chose another move, and the game continued.

“So what’s on the agenda tomorrow?” You asked, with a tone more befitting of a business partner than a fiancé. The two of you had gotten pretty used to the whole routine of feigning adoration, and typically planned cute moments to perform in advance.

Haechan looked over at you and sighed in a way that might have been more amused than exasperated.

“Would it kill you to sit like a lady?”

You looked down at yourself, eating a biscuit you’d pocketed from today’s lavish banquet, with your legs criss-crossed as you lounged on the bed in your nightgown. The white fabric was hiked up above your knees to accommodate the posture, and catching all the crumbs that fell.

“Aren’t I?”

Haechan couldn’t mask his amiable laugh at that. You felt strangely proud when you made him truly laugh. It was one of the few times his shoulders really relaxed, and he looked like the cheerful boy he might’ve been without the pressure of royalty on his back.

“So… what’s on the agenda?”

Haechan didn’t answer right away. He was still looking your direction but seemed zoned out.

“Haechan?”

He flinched, always shocked when you used his real name instead of a mocking nickname.

“W-what? Oh, we’ve got a ball.”

“Ugh… Boring. You better not leave me alone with all the gossiping hags.”

“Yeah, sure. Uh, for real, could you sit properly?”

“Whaaat, I’m comfy.”

“Seriously.”

That irked you. You were just sitting, and while you hadn’t fully realized it, Haechan was someone you'd grown comfortable being yourself around. You didn’t need another person in your life telling you the way you behaved was wrong, and against your will, you had begun to expect more from him. You felt something too close to heartbreak as you wondered if he was just another person who disapproved of you.

“No, I don’t want to.”

“It’s not a big deal, why can’t you?”

“Because you’re right. It’s not a big deal, so why do you seem to care so much?”

“Can you just do it?!”

“No! Didn’t you get on me for- for ‘enforcing those antiquities’ or whatever? Now you’ve got a problem with the way I sit or how I dress-”

“It’s not- it’s not like that!”

“Then what?!” You flared up at him further, as did he, but he seemed less angry and more... agitated. You laughed mockingly. “Whaaaat are you shy seeing my legs or something-”

“YES! They’re- they’re. Um. Well…” He looked at the floor, and you could’ve sworn you heard him whisper, “pretty,” before he flicked his head back up and stammered the marginally less embarrassing, “distracting.”

Your anger instantly dissolved when he confessed that, and you flushed in a way you didn’t know you could. You stared at the ground, tugging your nightgown gently down. You’d always hated being treated like a lady, but you’d never been treated like a woman, and you found you didn’t hate it quite as much. This might’ve been the first time in either of your lives that the two of you were ever actually lost for words. Neither could formulate some witty remark or snide comment, and you just boiled in the unfamiliar atmosphere neither of you sought to create.

“Uh,” Haechan broke the silence masterfully. “I-I think I’m going to turn in early.”

“Yes. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You might have climbed in bed early- no chess game for the first time in ages- but you both woke up exhausted. Four feet apart, two fiancés had stayed up late replaying the night in their minds and subsequently panicking.

“G-good morning.”

“Good morning.”

The day whirled by, with most of it being spent simply getting dressed for the evening ball. You spent most of the day slapping your face and reminding yourself of how you used to act around him, and when you heard a knock at your door, you were ready.

He told himself he was, but he wasn’t.

Haechan took a deep breath and let his gaze trail up from your skirt to your face, and he stiffened. He’d grown used to his fiancé looking beautiful in the luxurious dresses she wore daily- even though it stunned him more than he’d admit the first time. This dress was no different, no more extravagant, no, but the pink tinge on your cheeks was a beauty he couldn’t have imagined.

“You look… decent.”

He celebrated internally for managing to say something an unflustered him might have said, although some tiny part of himself wished he could pay you a compliment normally.

Your sigh slid into a laugh, and you found your rhythm in your rapport again.

“And you look just adorable, little prince.”

He glared, but was relieved to hear the dig. He offered you the crook of his elbow, and you clapped your hands to your cheeks once more before taking it. He flinched at the sharp sound, and observed your cheeks grow red again from the impact.

“Youch.”

“It’s not that bad, honestly. I’ve been doing it all day to wake myself up.”

Haechan hummed a response. He couldn’t form words; all his brainpower was focused on figuring out why that statement had just disappointed him so. As he rounded the corner towards the ballroom, though, he shook it from his mind.

You entered the ballroom to the usual thunderous applause. Haechan led you down the immaculate gold staircase, and you clung to his arm, the perfect image of a lovestruck princess. No one noticed you holding on a little tighter than usual tonight. The band struck up a song, and you took the hands of possibly the only person you'd ever considered a friend. He led you to the center of the floor and began to waltz. It was always a satisfying feeling to watch the crowds make way for you. You looked everywhere but at your partner, and aimlessly wondered if you’d even been in this ballroom before. Just when you thought you’d seen every room in the massive castle, you’d be led to a wing you didn’t even know existed. The idle thoughts occupied you, which was probably for the best, since it meant you didn’t notice the way Haechan was looking at you.

The dance ended, and you went separate ways to entertain people who made you feel like your brains were melting. Seriously, one day your mind was just going to leak out your ears and spill onto the polished floors. It was amazing how you could spend hours talking to one person night after night, but half an evening with these sycophants made you contemplate faking your own death.

Finally, your reprieve came in the form of an attendant, whispering in your ear that the crown prince was requesting your presence.

“So sorry ladies, my future husband and I are just inseparable.”

They gave you condescendingly knowing looks, their eyes practically screaming, Just wait a few more years, child, you’ll tire of each other. You had to turn away quickly so they didn’t catch you sneering at them. Whatever. You wouldn’t be with him in a few years anyway, you would have gone your separate ways by then.

Right?

Something about that thought didn’t feel right. Not even sad, just… not right. You thought rapidly as you let your attendant guide you. What was your original agreement? If I realize I… Wait… If I end up still hating him, then the engagement’s off? Those were the terms. Which meant, if you didn’t hate him, then inevitably you’d end up mar-

“Y/n!”

You looked up sharply, not realizing you’d crossed the ballroom already. However, even when looking forward, you didn’t see the person who’d just called your name. Your eyes flitted about, searching for the familiar face. You took a few steps in no particular direction, massively confused, and then suddenly terrified when a hand reached out from behind a curtain and pulled you to join its owner. Not the type to lose composure and scream, you clenched your jaw so tight it almost broke until you saw your fiancé's face shrouded in the shadows of the velvet drapes.

“What took you so long?”

His question wasn’t at all rude, as it once might’ve been. It was one of genuine relief to see you, as if you were his solace amongst all the fools at the ball. You met his eyes for maybe the first time this evening, and they were bright and warm and looked at you the way no one ever did. Like you mattered. Like he wanted you there. Not the facade you put on for everyone, he wanted the real you.

Oh God, I don’t hate him at all.

“Earth to y/n?” He chuckled as you snapped to attention. “Finally, you’re here. Is this the worst ball yet or what?”

“Yes! It’s seriously unbearable.”

“I knew you’d agree. By the way, have you still been slapping your face? You shouldn’t in front of guests, they’ll think you’re crazy.” He teased you over your red flush without giving it a second thought. You hadn’t touched your cheeks in hours. The realization only made you blush even more. He leaned in close, and you stood stock-still with surprise.

“Do you want to vanish for a while?”

“What?” The absurdity of the idea finally overwhelmed all other distractions from your mind. “How can we leave, we’re the guests of honor?”

“Please, nobody cares. They’re all busy trying to climb the social ladder anyway. Besides, we’ve got this great hiding spot.”

You stifled a laugh. “Yeah, squeezing between a window and some drapes is what I call ideal.”

“Hey, it’s got, like, enough room for us!”

That was a bit of hyperbole on Haechan’s part. You both barely fit in the narrow space, and you thanked the stars you hadn’t worn a larger hoop skirt tonight. Suddenly you were back to evading making eye contact again. A hush fell over you as you thought about how incorrect his statement just was, and you both grew acutely aware of how you couldn’t position yourselves in any way that would allow you to put some distance between your bodies. You cursed yourself for not postponing your life-shattering revelation about the man before you until after this little endeavor. Haechan’s mind raced as he saw the red on your skin remain even in the dim light.

You could only avoid each other’s gazes for so long.

He locked eyes with you, and you envisioned pieces moving across a board, your king running out of ways to escape its fate. There was only one end, and you were starting to love the idea of surrendering. You whispered harshly in the sarcastic way that felt comfortable to you, still too prideful to admit your defeat.

“So are you going to kiss me, or am I going to kiss you?”

Haechan answered by pressing a palm to the back of your neck and pulling you towards him perhaps too eagerly. A second later, you’d both pulled away, frantically looking around to see if anyone was peering in on you both. You relaxed when you confirmed no one has discovered you.

“This isn’t... a good time, Haechan.”

“I could not agree more. Way too risky.”

Neither of you waited a moment more to lunge towards each other again. His lips found yours roughly, his breath already ragged with overworked patience. You grabbed his lapels, no less desperate for this moment, your lipstick smearing onto him. Your fists crushed his boutonniere, and his fingers wove into your hair and ruined the curls. There was no party beyond the curtain. You and him were alone, both desperate to memorize the taste of each other, and nothing else mattered but that. His lips parted, and yours followed suit. His tongue just brushed your lower lip, and you felt a thrill run down your spine. Your arms wrapped around his neck unconsciously, trying to get closer to him than was possible, but nothing could stop you from trying. You caught his lip between your teeth, your instincts running wild, and you wondered how either of you had endured up until this point. Now that you’d gotten a taste of each other, it seemed almost impossible not to get addicted. He gripped your hair, his other arm wrapping around your waist and not letting go. It slid down to grab your thigh and wrap it around him, your dress’s layers barely inhibiting him. Every inch of you was so aware of where it made contact with him, and you hungered for more. All facades were shed. You were both just heat and teeth and desire, without a shred of nobility between the two of you. You’d never experienced anything so perfect.

The two of you finally parted, your lips wet and the rest of you looking disastrous. He pressed his lips to your cheek, getting your own lipstick on your face, and you pulled his palm up to kiss it over and over again. Too breathless to continue and too worked up to just stop, you let the clock tick by as you left soft kisses all over each other.

“What are we going to do?” You whispered, half concerned but half amused. Between sentences, you still found places on his face yet unkissed, and remedied them. “We can’t go back out looking like this.”

“What are you talking about? I look great.” You were both too elated to remember you should be worried about your predicament, but he did seem genuinely proud of the pink smears adorning his face and neck, the teeth marks framing his lips, the fierce creases in his lapels. He brushed his fingers on your cheekbones, and looked even prouder of the mess he’d made of you. It felt like a dream to be touching you like this. Even more unreal to know that he was the cause of your disheveled hair and your chapped lips. He may or may not have imagined a moment like this before, late at night when he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but it was buried in the back of his mind and nowhere near as euphoric as this reality.

“No, but seriously, we can’t go out like this.”

“No yeah, for sure, you’re absolutely right.”

You managed to escape thanks to the tight-lipped attendant who’d led you to a curtain concealing a prince in the first place, but found yourselves rather tight-lipped too. Once you’d both washed off the lipstick and the teeth marks faded, you didn’t know how to face each other. You just crawled into bed and discreetly squirmed as you thought about all that had happened. What was more embarrassing, that you realized you might, maybe, possibly, have feelings for each other, or that the other person might know about them? It was already late when you turned out the lights, but you both stayed up longer, plagued by worries.

They must be so smug since I was all over them, I’m such an idiot.

God, I can’t believe how intense that was. What if they hated it? What if I was bad at it?

Did they only kiss me ‘cause of how much I was kissing them?

Are we like… friends? They probably don’t hate me, so…

That was really unbelievable.

I think I might really… feel something for them.

I hope they feel the way I do.

The hurricanes of concerns led to a restless night, and a mortifyingly awkward day afterward. You couldn’t even look at each other, let alone speak. Even the servants seemed to notice the tension, and you could hear them giggling when they’d disappear into the corridors. You tried to tell yourself that that was great, that it really sold your act as a couple of lovebirds, but that just embarrassed you all the more. Your fiancé was just as tormented, the blush that was sparking gossip reaching all the way to the tips of his ears.

Eventually, someone had to break the silence. If not with words, then with the slamming of a chess board down on the usual table. And that’s exactly what you did, not that who slept in the bed was something that still concerned either of you. No, now it was just routine, something you enjoyed and shared with each other, and something you were going to use to discuss your current feelings.

“C-come play, little prince.”

Even the nickname didn’t manage to get him to flare up. He walked over, still with the air of importance that was second nature to him, but his pounding heart almost echoed against his ribs. You set up your black pieces and he took the white. He moved a pawn towards you.

“So…”

“Yeah.” You slid a piece across the board. He nodded, his cheeks burning. You both knew what you had to say and what the other person was going to say, but that only made it all the more difficult to verbalize.

“I guess I don’t hate you. As much as I used to.” You said hurriedly, your voice forcibly steadied.

“Oh, what an honor.” Haechan’s snarky response was accompanied by a trembling hand moving a rook. He yelled at himself internally, and attempted to be as honest as he could. “I… suppose you’re not unbearable.” The biting words didn’t sting, nor did they flow the way they once did. It saddened both players, even though it had only been a day since you both had been without the banter of your best friend. Slowly, you started to regret the night before, the ecstatic memories being clouded with the fear that you might lose the most important person to you because of it.

“I-”

“Oh, sorry, you start-”

“No, you-”

“No-”

“Okay, fine!” You huffed, accepting the initiative. You pushed your rook straight forward. “I… have always hated the idea of getting married. Everything about it- the formalities, the responsibilities, the princes, ugh. Awful.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’m not done, okay!” Pieces shuffled around the board as you tried to organize your thoughts. “If I… had to marry someone…” Your sentence trailed off, and Haechan leaned forward, ears itching to hear the conclusion. You stared at the board, and he steeled himself. It would’ve been a blow to his persistent pride if he just waited for you to say everything.

“I’m…” What did he need to say first? His mind blanked, and he just let the words fall from his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened, but remained fixed on the game. “For what?”

“For not listening to you. The first day we met. I didn’t… treat you the way I should’ve. I’m sorry for that. But I’m… also glad it happened. If I’d acted differently then maybe you wouldn’t be in front of me. That would be, uh, not ideal. But I’m sorry.”

“Um. Thanks. I’m glad it happened too. Otherwise we might still be pretending to be well-mannered in front of each other.” Haechan snickered, and you did too. You could feel your shoulders relaxing, and he could feel himself growing bolder. He moved his queen across the board, closing in on his target.

“Man, where would I be without my unladylike, insufferable fiancé?”

“Probably whining like a child to some other pitiful creature who deserves better.”

The clouds in your minds began to clear as you exchanged snarky remarks. It felt right- pretty words didn’t like to be forced from your lips. He smiled. You looked up, your line of sight lingering on the lips you knew well before finding his eyes. You left your king unguarded, ready for it to be captured.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind marrying you, little prince.”

“Do it then.”

You swept the unfinished game off the board, feeling like you’d won, and he met you in the middle. He kissed you, barely more composed than the night before, but you had no problem with that. The two of you smiled against each other’s lips, incredulous that somehow you had found someone to love, something you used to believe was impossible. Little bursts of laughter interrupted the kiss as giddiness took over.

“Didn’t I say something like I’d burn down this castle before I wed you?”

“Just let the wedding planner know,” Haechan sighed with joy as he gave in to the temptation of your lips again.

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bandaigaeru · 4 years ago

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a spell for you - hwang hyunjin

→ synopsis: he had spontaneously chosen you as a victim, leaving you with nothing but the desire to return his motives. → word count: 11k → genre: hogwarts au, enemies to lovers → pairing: slytherin!hyunjin x gryffindor! gender neutral reader (feat. jihyo (twice))

→ warnings: one mention of the reader's period (it's not necessary for context, but just know that it is there) → author's note (super quick haha): i feel like i could have done a lot better with this, so perhaps there will be a rewrite in the future if this one disappoints you. happy, slightly belated, new year!

His hair catches the light with a shimmering pang. He brushes a hand through it, tucking a pestering strand behind his ear. Intently, he watches beside him, where his friends are shoving each other and threatening a fight. His lips are parted, threatening a smile.

"Stop trying to steal my potion," Changbin shoves, his grip on the glass bottle tightening as Seungmin reaches for it.

"You're the one who took it from me!" Seungmin whines, defensively hitting the inner elbow wielding his potion.

"No fighting in my classroom," Professor Nam breathily warns, leaning back in her chair defeatedly. She found it too difficult to try corralling them anymore.

You scoff.

Hyunjin turns to you, a smirk pulling the corner of his lip. "What? Got a problem?"

You roll your eyes. "Your presence is breaking my concentration. Why don't you go fight with Seungmin and never come back? That sounds perfect."

"What're you even concentrating on? The test you're gonna fail anyway?" Hyunjin jabs, puffing out his bottom lip in fake sympathy.

"Says the one who has worse grades than me."

He drags his chair closer to your desk, robe trailing slightly behind. His heavy breath casts a warmth against the back of your hand. "That's no way to talk to a superior."

"Superior?" you glance up, laughing. "Slytherins will never be superior to Gryffindors."

"Why is that?" Hyunjin cocks his head, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. His eyebrows jump with curiosity.

"Because snakes will only ever stay in the grass. Lions can at least jump."

He nods. "True. But a snake can kill a lion with its venom, and then your jumping is pointless."

From the seat in front of you, Jeongin groans. "Shut up already. Ravenclaws are the best and it's time you all admit it."

In unison, you and Hyunjin mutter, "Never that."

You look to him, his eyes in the same amount of shock as yours. You slam your textbook closed, shoving it into your bag. "Gross."

As you're standing from your chair, he coos, "If you're going to the common room, you should change."

"Why would I change for you, Hwang Hyunjin?"

"Because there's a stain on your pants," he smirks.

You grimace, tossing a dismissive wave over your shoulder as you leave the classroom. Nam doesn't care. She's too busy filing her nails and trying to keep Seungmin and Changbin from decapitating each other. You know, a normal day in her classroom. Plus, the bell is nearing its drone.

The hidden entry shifts for you as you approach. "Thank you, madam," you shout to the portrait above you.

The lady hums. The cement crackly replenishes itself behind you as you relish in the abandoned common room. Everyone is in classes, or should be, at least. You rush up to your room, tossing your bag and immediately changing into a different set of pants.

Sure enough, on the butt of your previous plaid ones is a small brown splotch. It can't be your period, so you slowly get closer to look at it. The waft of chocolate tickles your nose.

"Hwang Hyunjin," you grumble. He's probably sitting in that classroom still, snickering with his friends at how gullible you are. But hey, at least the stain kind of blends in.

ii.

The idea of revenge had seemed a waste of time in your formative years. Until your eyes locked with Hwang Hyunjin's in your first year. Those beady little pupils that followed every move you made. Tactical. Always ready to sink his fangs.

His first prank had been a simple fart joke (as fresh teenagers love). With the wave of his wand, he summoned a low groan right behind you. His acting skills were put to use as he brought a hand to his nose. "Ew, Y/N farted!"

Your cheeks flushed as you confusedly turned to him. You snapped, "No, I didn't."

Though, his choir of laughs had drowned your defense and left you with the heat of shame. He smiled back at you as he sat down, his dark wand still poised in his fingers.

Now, as you sit in the dining hall with hyperactive attention and a dismal pull for hunger, the target enters. His blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail, with a few straying pieces. There is a quirk to his lips as he talks to the friends at his sides. You can feel the bass of his laughter in your shoulders.

"Hello? You in there?" Changbin waves a hand in front of your dazed eyes.

"What?" you turn back to him as Hyunjin takes a seat in his usual spot.

He sighs. "You scouting him again?"

"I have to get back at him," you mutter, picking up your fork before you stab the noodles on your plate.

"Y/N," Changbin whines. Your steely eyes look to him, and he immediately softens, caving in on himself.

"You're a Gryffindor," you start, twirling the noodles, "better start acting like one."

"Are you saying I can't be friends with both of you?"

You shake your head. "Never insinuated that. I'm standing my ground, and you shouldn't be preventing me from doing that."

Changbin looks to the other faces listening in, but all of them are little help. Jisung catches his eye, shaking his head. Defeated, he sighs, turning back to his meal. He drowns the words on his tongue with water.

The dinner session ends rather quickly (thanks to your rambled thoughts). Students bustle to return to designated common rooms for the night. Your eyes are glued to the back of Hyunjin's head. He's in no hurry, evidently, because he is still seated at the table, eyes crinkled with laughter. The cold wood of the wand is a familiar feeling in your palm. It's comforting. It reminds you of a time where Hwang Hyunjin was merely a classmate. How simple life was.

The hollowness he had claimed in your stomach deepens when he finally stands. You

point your wand at him carefully, suddenly grateful Changbin isn't here, and whisper, "Confundo."

The trademarked confident stride caves in on itself as the boy shrinks. He glances around. Upturned eyebrows and lost eyes. You rush to walk past him, a small wave and a smile. He doesn't seem to recognize you.

You can't help but laugh.

iii.

Your head is held high as you're walking to your first class of the day. Last night hasn't stopped replaying in your head, and the smile has yet to fade. He looked so lost. His eyes were wide and puppylike, and it even sent a jolt through your heart. Finally, he'd gotten a piece of his own medicine.

A barrier stops you from going further. It tugs you back by the sleeve of your blazer, leaving you to stare back into the somewhat lost eyes of the boy you had terrorized.

"What do you want?" you mumble, glancing down the hall. If anyone were to see you two, this close, they'd know something was up.

"What spell did you use? I can't shake it. I've been awake all night trying to get rid of it."

You chuckle and shrug. "Well, it's already lost some of its oomph. Only time can cure you."

You try to continue your path, but he grabs your shoulders and spins you back to look at him. He leans close to your face, and your breath chokes you. His eyes are no longer wide with innocence. They hold a knife back at you. "What spell did you use?"

"Confundo. Why, do you think I cursed you?" you scoff, squirming beneath his palms. "I'm not that mean, Hwang."

He lets go of your shoulders, staring at his shoes in defeat. You stumble a little. "Dumbass," he mutters, "We have an exam today. I can't concentrate on something like that, especially since I was up all night. Why would you do this?"

A sprout of something dizzying scratches your chest. You lean onto your toes as you whisper, "Should have thought about that before you started this mess."

You continue your walk to class with newfound guilt. Behind you, Hyunjin mutters, "I'll get back at you. Big time."

Your day had always been thwarted by the presence of Hwang Hyunjin, for he was always in every class. But today, he's not there. You presume he's caught in the Slytherin tower, curled in a ball as he tries to dispel his confusion. Mayhaps he's even sleeping. In a way, you kind of miss his antics. The way he tossed his head back and let his hair cascade at the fate of gravity simply for the muse that it 'helped him think.'

You found yourself smiling at your exam packet, and you instantly recoil. Hyunjin's an asshole, and he deserves everything he gets.

Changbin nudges you. You glance at him and he begins to fight a laugh. "What're you thinking of in that pretty little head of yours?"

You look back to your test in alarm. "Nothing," you whisper, warily glancing at Professor Nam, whose eyes wander up and down the aisles.

"Is it Hyunjin?" he leans toward you.

You shake your head, hissing, "Absolutely not."

Professor Nam skips over a row to you. "No talking. I'll take points if I catch you two again."

Changbin settles back into his test, leaving you with thoughts of your own. As you aimlessly bubbled in answers seemingly obvious, you thought to Hyunjin. Maybe you were a little out of line with the confundo incident, but it was your turn for revenge. You glance up at his empty chair when you finish the test. In the far corner of your head, you swear you can hear his obnoxious laugh and breathy, "I told you so."

Overhead, the bell rings. It dismisses everyone from their classes and momentarily dismisses Hyunjin from the warmth of your thoughts. You pass your exam forward, quickly scavenging your things together and following the pack into the halls. Nam's class is the last of the day, and it's Friday. Your weekend is free ahead of you, and you consider inviting Changbin and Jisung to a picnic or something.

A hand claps down on your shoulder before a deep laugh shakes in your ears. "Y/N! I heard what you did to Hyunjin. Genius, I must say."

You glance to the owner of the voice, meeting the glimmering eyes of Kim Seungmin. He looks down on you with a warm smile. So unlike a Slytherin.

"Thank you," you straighten your posture as you continue walking.

His hand doesn't move from your shoulder. His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, "But if it's just between you and me, you're gonna wish you didn't do that."

Shivers trail the back of your neck to your wrists. When you look at him, he's still harboring that welcoming grin. "Ciao," he removes his hand to wave at you. Then, he starts in the opposite direction, against the wave of traffic.

You walk the rest of the way with your eyes glued ahead. A Gryffindor does not back down. They are brave, you remind yourself.

The Fat Lady allows you entry into the common room, but the hallway is backed up. You stretch your neck to try and see above the crowd, though nothing but heads of hair taints your view. There's a pit in your stomach, and before you can shove through, you already have an idea what's going on.

The Gryffindor common room has been plagued with the stench of Hwang Hyunjin's mischievous antics. It is drenched in a potion of Nidore, resembling the smell of untreated B.O. Han Jisung plugs his nose as he glances around. He catches your eye, muttering, "Do you smell this?"

Your eyes are lazed with irritation. Curtly, you nod. "Yeah. Hyunjin did this. I'm sure of it."

Jisung whines, tapping his foot impatiently, "Why can't you two just keep your tricks in class? This is violating school rules. He shouldn't be in here. He's a Slytherin!"

You bite on the inner piece of your lip as heeled steps echo closer. The presence of a tall woman sends anxious goosebumps down your spine. You turn to her, though you're sure you look pitiful.

"What is the meaning of this?" she shouts, looking among the students for any clue.

Jisung nudges your arm.

"We have reason to believe it was a Slytherin's doing, madam," another professor slips into the room, promptly covering his nose.

"Do we have a name for this Slytherin?" she crosses her arms and purses her lips.

The professor shakes his head, looking to his freshly shined shoes. Faintly, he wonders if the smell will ruin them. "No. Not yet."

The headmistress sighs, waving her hand. "Gryffindors are to report to the dining hall immediately until this mess is covered. Start an investigation at once."

"Yes, ma'am," the professor's head falls as he pushes back through the crowd, which is now graciously evacuating. Those simple words were all they needed.

You feel bolted to the floor. All you can do is stare at the bun atop the headmistress's head. Hyunjin had gone too far, but you had triggered this. Jisung grabs your wrist and pulls you out.

He takes you up the hall, into the bathroom. He closes the door behind you.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he whisper-shouts.

You shake your head, a rock lodging its way into your throat as you avert his sharp eyes. "I fucked up."

"Obviously."

Han Jisung is standing with his hands on his hips, his eyes looking like they're about to bulge from his head. He must be disappointed. "What're you gonna do about this?"

"I'm gonna have to tell McGonagall."

Jisung sighs, taking a long look at you. "If you think that's what's best, go on." He opens the door for you.

You trudge back to the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady grants you entrance, though she says, "It sure smells in there, love. I wouldn't stay long if I were you."

When you reach the end of the hallway, McGonagall is no longer there. Instead, there's a blond boy who laughs quietly to himself. He looks back at you. "I knew you'd come back."

"Hyunjin, what the hell do you think you're doing? You went too far. You could get expelled over this, you know?"

He shakes his head. "I won't get expelled. My family's donated too much to this school. You should have seen the look on your face, though."

You blink as he stands. "Have you ever stopped to think about other people for a change? I'm nothing without this school."

Hyunjin sucks his teeth. "Should have thought about that one."

You open your mouth to retaliate, but overhead a voice takes over. "Y/N Y/L/N of Gryffindor and Hwang Hyunjin of Slytherin, please report to the headmistress' office immediately."

Hyunjin wraps his arm around your shoulder, the tips of his fingers trailing a path along your collarbone. "Shall we?"

iv.

"I can expel you. Is that what you would like?" McGonagall inquires, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. Around her, papers float as she pointedly looks for one in specific.

"No," you mumble.

Hyunjin tips his head back, allowing his hair to fall back. There is a menacing curl to his lips.

"Your antics have been going on for how long? Nearly six years?"

Your gaze is locked on your shoes. They need a shining, you note.

Hyunjin begins chuckling. "You're not actually serious about expulsion, right? My family would never let you hear the end of it."

McGonagall plucks a paper from the air, looking at it. "No, Mr. Hwang. But keep up your attitude and I'll make the remainder of your time here a living hell."

You look at Hyunjin, whose eyes wait for yours. He smiles, offering a sharp pierce to your heart. Your eyes shoot back to the floor. The toe of his shoe pierces your vision, inching to nudge yours.

"What I think is appropriate," McGonagall starts, plucking another paper. "is that you two seek a middle ground. I am requesting that wizardry chores are to be saved for you two, and you will perform them together. I am uncertain on the duration, still, but I assure you it will not be comfortable."

Hyunjin scoffs. "You're gonna make us do laundry or something?"

McGonagall sighs, looking up at him. She offers a pitying smile. "It'll be much, much worse than that, Mr. Hwang."

"Thank you," he sarcastically remarks.

You look up to McGonagall, bowing your head gently. "Thank you for not resorting to expulsion."

"You two are immature wizards, which is incredibly dangerous in today's society. I need to knock sense into you, not allow you the means to rebel."

You don't dare look at Hyunjin, but you're sure he has smoke billowing from his ears. Because nobody, not even the headmistress, should talk down on him. "A Slytherin," you recall him saying, "is the top of the food chain."

"Now," she claps, sending a jolt through you. "Your first task is to remove the potion from the Gryffindor common room. That should be fairly easy for you, Mr. Hwang."

He grimaces, starting out of the office. He swears beneath his breath, and doesn't even make fun of you when you trip and nearly faceplant. Instead, he offers a glance back at you before continuing on his way. Not even a single sly comment.

When you return to the common room, Changbin waits outside. He pushes off the cement walls, arms crossed against his velvet robe. "Oh? Are you two finally allowing your love for each other to blossom?"

You shoot him a warning look, but it amasses to nothing when Hyunjin grabs him by the collar and pins him against the wall. "Watch your mouth."

He throws him to the ground before hesitantly entering the hallway.

"Who pissed in his Cheerios?" Changbin scrambles to stand up again. He seeks you for answers, but falls short when all you offer is a secured gaze on the floor.

The Gryffindor common room is still oozing with stench, but in the center of it is Hwang Hyunjin, the mastermind. He seems more bothered by McGonagall's comments than the smell. He raises his wand of Blackthorn, chanting an unknown spell. The odor vanquishes, leaving you only with the other elephant in the room.

Hyunjin starts out the door, bumping into your shoulder on the way. "Just stay out of my way and we won't have problems."

You huff, staring at the back of his neck, "Be mature for once."

He stops, his head slumping. He slowly turns back to you, venom laced with his words as he says, "You're the reason we're in this mess. Stay out of my way so we can get this over with, okay?"

Ice builds up your ankles. You cannot move. You cannot speak. You're left to watch as he storms out of the room. So much for a stable weekend.

Things truly began with doing the laundry. Muttered remarks fluttered from Hyunjin's lips, though he does not speak directly to you. Nor does he even offer a spare glance.

Then, you had a trip to Hogsmeade. Though, under strict supervision by Professor Kim, whose gaze never left your necks. "Isn't the grocer that way, Mr. Hwang?" he had said. Hyunjin tensed, dark eyes looking back at the old man. Though, he did not speak. He simply moved on his way.

After that, McGonagall had sent for you two to clean the Slytherin dungeons. "Real Slytherins aren't this piggish," Hyunjin grumbled, scrubbing harshly at the moss buildup.

Hesitance built in your veins every time he was around. Though, his gaze has not crossed your skin once. His words, too, were never meant to travel over your robes. He treats you as though you are an imaginary friend who he vowed to erase from his life.

You release a shaky breath.

"I won't be at dinner," you warn your friends for the sixth day in a row. A setting sun peeks through the broad window panes.

"You serving time again?" Minho manages through sips of scalding coffee. For a Ravenclaw, he didn't always live up to the stereotype.

"They're not serving time, per se," Changbin counters. "But close enough."

Chan tugs at your sleeve, pulling you away from the crowd. "Are you okay?"

Tears prick the corners of your vision, but you nod. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just kinda wanna get this over with."

Chan offers a small, sheepish smile. "Okay. Just let me know if you need anything. I may be a Hufflepuff, but I can beat his ass if you want me to."

You giggle, bringing your sleeved arm to brush against your nose. "Thank you."

At the end of the hall, where it halts with the choice of the dining hall or the potions branch of the school, you take a left while everyone else turns right.

Today, McGonagall needed you to clean the bathrooms. Hyunjin, of course, was not looking forward to it. He didn't look forward to anything, you realize.

"Hey," you greet, gently setting down your bag outside the bathroom. The door is still closed.

Hyunjin looks up from his phone. He doesn't say anything, but at least he acknowledges you by slipping his phone into his pocket. His hand encases the doorknob before he pushes it open.

Disgust twists his face as he gags. "What the hell? Have these ever been used?"

"Evidently," you remark, peeking around the doorway to see a pile of green sludge accustomed to the floor.

Hyunjin sighs. "I guess we better get started."

You nod, picking up a mop that awaited. You work in silence. Hyunjin curses under his breath, grunting as he works. When you steal a glance, his face is reddened and there are beads of sweat threatening to drip from his brow.

The sludge, you presume, is mutated moss. It's actually quite common in castles like this one. Nonetheless, it's gross to eliminate. And the smell. Just thinking about it would send shivers down your spine.

On Hyunjin's end of the bathroom, behind the protection of a wall, there is a gurgle and an accompanying shout. "You're joking," he whines.

He steps out from the stall, the white of his undershirt blotched with green and orange. It looks like vomit, but it smells much worse. You don't have time to laugh, for he's gathering his things. "I'm tired of McGonagall making us do her stupid errands. Doesn't she have servants for this? I'm done!" he offers you one last glance before he leaves.

Silence was more comfortable when he sat in it with you.

vi.

You jolt with the realization. Certainly you weren't starting to enjoy Hyunjin's company. That's outright impossible. If anything at all, you were merely starting to see him as a comrade or acquaintance.

But you were not, absolutely not, starting to feel something for him.

The sun starts to leak through your curtains, portraying your sleeping roommate like a silhouette. You sigh, falling back onto the pillows. The ceiling stares back at you with an intimidating uncertainty. Hyunjin wasn't going to be doing the chores anymore, so it would be pointless in talking to him about it. So long as McGonagall doesn't find out that you're working solo, things should be okay.

You travel with the crowd, accepting breakfast alone. Your friends were probably still sleeping. Minho might be awake, but he's likely locked in the Ravenclaw chamber, hiding from the outside world on his rest day.

McGonagall's wishes for today, as delivered by Professor Kim, was to visit Hagrid's hut and obtain a dragon egg. The reason, she did not state. Probably official school business that you had no intention, nor desire, of searching into. If Hyunjin were with you, that'd likely be a different story.

You leave the castle at quarter to noon. It's chilly outside (you probably could have used a jacket) but the sun is held central in the sky. You take a deep breath, admiring the traveling scents of blossoms and lilies. The gravel path crunches beneath your shoes. A bright pink azalea catches your eye. It hangs on the edge of the forest, serving a bookmark among the green. You step off of the path, taking careful steps toward it.

"Wow," you mumble, bringing your palm to it. It's soft against your skin.

You wonder if Hyunjin likes flowers. A smile cracks your lips. "It'd be funny if he did," you whisper to yourself.

A squealing cry causes you to flinch. You turn in the direction of the noise, spotting a pig running for dear life. Its little legs overworking themselves in a blur. Close behind is a hippogriff, tall and muscular. It walks with leisure, for its legs equate to nearly thirty of the pig's.

You gulp. They're bigger than the textbooks lead on. You take a wary step back. A stick crunches beneath your weight. The hippogriff's gaze sways toward you. It cocks its head curiously.

You wished you paid more attention in Care of Magical Creatures. Stupid Hyunjin and his stupid distractions. Why did he even begin picking on you in the first place? Was it chance? Did he know you were a Gryffindor and simply nod and declare you were the one? For whatever reason, it has brought you here.

A Gryffindor shouldn't cry in a situation like this. They should stand tall and tame the beast. Fight if they have to, but that's a shrugging matter. You're not like other Gryffindors, though. Who are you kidding? You're a lousy one.

So you cry. If death is upon you, all you really can do is cry.

The hippogriff opens its beak and lets out a shrill cry. Its heavy footsteps echo into the trees, shaking birds from branches. It poises its hind legs in a crouch, preparing for the hunt. Like any predator, it expects you to run.

You shake your head, glancing to the pink azalea beside your head. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact. You hear its footsteps drawing near.

"Alarte ascendare!" a voice yells. There is a boom and a crash.

Hesitant, you open your eyes. The hippogriff is laying in front of you, bloodied and gasping for breath. A wave of heat washes over you as you dizzily fall to your knees. You try to look for the source of the voice, but your vision is hazy.

Arms wrap around you. They steady you. You look up. "Hyunjin?"

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," he pulls your head into his chest, resting his chin atop your head.

"What're you doing here?" Your mouth is dry. Any moment, you feel as though you might fall. Through the earth and into an abyss. But still, Hyunjin holds you.

"Same goes for you. Why're you out here unsupervised, huh?" his voice is in a calming whisper. His fingers trace repeating lines through your hair.

"McGonagall wanted us to go get an egg from Hagrid," you tell him, removing the detail of the flower. You didn't need him calling you stupid for straying from the path.

He sighs. For once, he's speechless. He just keeps playing with your hair, occasionally glancing to the hippogriff, who has since long stopped breathing.

vii.

Behind the large wooden doors of the infirmary, you hear a droning voice. "Slaughter of a magical creature on school grounds can be charged with expulsion. Are you aware of that, Mr. Hwang?"

The following voice is much quieter, though you don't have the energy to strain yourself. Your head is pounding, and there's a bandage around your ankle. Your eyes fall on the door. A nurse has her ear cupped to it. Heavy eyelids take their reign over you. The voice fades into the darkness, leaving you cold and lost.

When you finally open your eyes again, there is a face hanging over you. You slowly blink.

"Sleep well?" McGonagall inquires. Her glasses hang low on the bridge of her nose. You're afraid they might fall on you if she stays much longer.

You nod. "What time is it?"

McGonagall steps back, bringing her wristwatch into frame. She tilts her head. "Around 2:30. It's Thursday. You've been here nearly twenty-four hours, you know?"

You fight to sit up. Imaginary weights drag you back. "Don't expel Hyunjin," you find yourself saying, though the words seem foreign. You're not even sure you spoke them in your native tongue.

"Sorry?"

"I said," you pause, taking a deep breath, "Don't expel Hyunjin. It's not his fault."

McGonagall juts out her chin, pursing her lips. "And why shouldn't I?"

You sigh, as though you cannot believe that you're defending Hwang Hyunjin. "I was careless. I strayed from the path to Hagrid's because I saw a stupid flower. If it weren't for Hyunjin, I'd probably be dead meat."

She hums, removing her glasses and pointing the golden frames towards you. "So my plan, it worked?"

"What plan?"

"Of getting you two to mature and see each other as equals."

"I don't know about the whole equals thing-"

"Hush, I don't want to hear it. You two will meet in my office Saturday morning, I expect. I'll send a reminder tomorrow evening," McGonagall huffs, turning to leave. Her heels clobber against the tile all the way to the end of the hall.

Within no time, the nurse is at your bedside, offering you a glass of water and a blonde potion. "Can I get you anything else?" she asks, interlacing her fingers and resting them on the pocket of her apron.

You glance at your ankle. "What happened?"

She offers a weak smile. "I wouldn't be able to tell you. Ask that blond boy who brought you in. I'm sure he knows. Or at least, he'll be able to point you in the right direction."

You slowly nod. "Thank you."

"Yes, dear. Oh, and you should be able to return to your dormitory as soon as you're ready. Take it easy."

When she's disappeared into the office by the set of doors, you sigh. What mess did Hwang Hyunjin get you into? More accurately, what mess did you get yourself into? You can't even find it in you to be mad at him, though logically you should be. Especially with the way he stroked your hair before you fainted. At that moment, he seemed like an angel. A blond-headed angel, whose blood was tainted with the venom of snakes.

Even so, none of this would have happened had he not stormed off. And you'll remind yourself that every time an endearing thought crosses your mind. He may have saved you, but he had essentially set you as bait. Indirectly, but still.

Near dinnertime, you leave the infirmary to freshen up. Your hair was matted and there was dirt smudged on your cheeks. After a quick shower, wary of your wrapped foot, you hobble to the dining hall. Before you settle with a questioning Seo Changbin, you glance at the empty spot of the infamous Slytherin section. The setting sun failed to cast a glow on blond hair, for he was not there. Perhaps he had been pulled from school, and McGonagall has yet to hear the news. Or maybe he's punishing himself for even going after you. Regardless, a swollen hole burns through your chest. It sparks irritation as you push around tonight's meal with the tip of your fork.

"Hey, what happened to your ankle? Did Hyunjin do something? Why aren't you answering my questions? Why are you sulking?" Changbin racks off. "Hello? Anybody in there?" He nudges your shoulder.

"I don't know what happened. I need to talk to Hyunjin about it," you simply say, finally forcing yourself to eat the food. Despite not eating for nearly two days, you felt no sense of hunger. In fact, you felt as though you were about to explode. As if you had eaten too much.

"Ah, I see. You're sulking because you have to talk to Hyunjin."

"I don't think it's that," you sigh, slumping as you look back to his spot. Still, it's empty.

"Then what's the problem?"

You think hard about what you say next. You can't tell him about this weird concoction brewing in your chest, for he'll run with it and send the school into another Battle of Hogwarts. "I just feel off. I don't know."

Jisung nudges your shin from beneath the table. You look up to him. He mouths, slowly and deliberately, "Are you okay?"

You nod, half-certain.

Changbin continues to pester you, despite the lack of responses. Even when you stand to return your tray, he follows. All the way to the common room, he sticks close, leaning over you to whisper more questions. You can't even fathom how he hasn't run out yet.

He grabs your shoulders, spinning you around. "Look at me."

Your eyes feel slow as they scan for his. He continues, "I don't know what's gotten into you, but if you need to talk about it, I am here for you. If it's about Hyunjin, I won't run off to tell him, okay? Family before friends."

"Thanks, Binnie," you force a smile, before breaking away from his grasp and closing the gap to your room. You gently close the door before plummeting onto your bed.

viii.

Hyunjin fails to appear to any class other than Professor Nam's. His seat, though filled, holds a barren figure with bags pulling at his eyes. He spares you a small smile when he catches your stare. He even offers a spare remark about your shoes. "Don't you think it's time to retire those, Y/N? They're all shabby."

But that's all he can bring himself to say. When he turns back in his seat, he slumps a little. Seungmin whispers something to him, and his head barely shakes in response.

You try not to stare at the back of his head. Even it seems to have lost some kind of sparkle to it. The bell blares its dismissal, and the class evacuates immediately. You take your time, for Hwang Hyunjin appears to be in no rush.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" you block his way when he tries to pass without a single word. "Don't you need to get your quota of insults in? The week's over, bud."

He looks at you like he's never met you. "Oh. Sorry."

He pushes through, brushing past your shoulder. Gently. Not the usual brash interaction.

You huff, stumbling after him. "We need to talk."

"Go ahead."

"Not if you're gonna be like this. C'mon, I wore my ugliest pair of pants to try and get a rouse from you."

He spares a glance at the bright plaid trousers. "Nice."

You smack his shoulder. "What is the matter with you?"

He shrugs. "I don't know."

You stop walking, merely watching as he continues down the hall. There's no point in this, you realize. Arguing with this Hyunjin is like talking to a brick wall encased by another brick wall. Things will resume to their normal pace in due time.

You pull yourself to the Gryffindor common room, barricading yourself in your room. The moment your head connects with your pillow, a single tear falls. It's hot against your cheek.

At quarter to six, you decide to skip out on dinner. You're not sure what you'd do if you saw him sitting at his table, drawn back from the usual conversations with Seungmin.

A card slips under your door, scraping against the hardwood. You sit up to retrieve it. On the front, in large, careful cursive letters is your name. A small letter is inside, reading, "Do not forget our meeting tomorrow morning. 9:00 A.M. sharp. If you are not here, I will have someone fetch you."

You begin laughing. McGonagall's going to have a fit when she sees you and Hyunjin. A vivacious boy with a tongue for quips turned hollow and you, a Gryffindor with a newfound fear of facing him.

ix.

The back of his neck is marked crimson by the amount of times he scratches it during that meeting. His gaze averts yours, even when you know you've burnt a hole in his cheek.

"I'm sure you're aware why I've called you in," McGonagall sighs, crossing her arms as she leans against her desk.

You force your gaze to rest on her, slowly shaking your head.

"I have no choice but to dismiss our project we had."

"You mean making us do chores together?" you question, sure Hyunjin would be proud of you for such a comment. When you glance at him, he doesn't even spare a blink out of routine.

"Well, if you view it as such I'm afraid I can't change that," she nods. You know that if Hyunjin had said that, he'd be getting yelled at. Good day to hold the Gryffindor title, you dejectedly admit.

She scans Hyunjin's face for any sign of life. "You in there, Mr. Hwang?"

His head shifts upward toward her. "Yes, sorry."

"You're awfully quiet," she mentions. He shrugs, returning his eyes to his lap. He fidgets with the dark wood at the tip of his wand.

"Well, if there are no further objections, you are free to leave."

Hyunjin runs with these words, taking his bag and rushing out. He barely even offers a polite quip. You follow him out, a few distancing steps in between. He heads for the Slytherin tower. For a moment, you consider calling out and inviting him to lunch. But you don't. Instead, you go back to the Gryffindor common room, nestling in for a game of chess with Changbin. He's not very good, but at least it serves as a laughing distraction.

The sun falls over the horizon rather slowly, as though someone tugs it back on a pulley system. Changbin wishes you goodnight a bit past eight, leaving you with a distant desire to study. You shuffle to your dorm, preparing to stare absentmindedly at a textbook, when your eyes fall over the emerald robe.

Hmm, you think. Should I? Or should I not? Well, he has been very weird. And you're overly curious. It's swallowing your life.

You sigh, picking it up and swinging it over your shoulders. You pull the hood up, slipping back out into the common room. The students continue their nightly games of Mafia. Not a single set of eyes shoot at you.

Breaking curfew is punishable by copious amounts of detention. Good thing you're invisible to the guard wandering the halls.

Sneaking into the Slytherin tower is rather easy, given the circumstances. The cobblestone corridor leads you to a darkened room emblazoned by the crackle of fire. A blond boy lays on the gray carpet, his eyes vacant as he blinks at the ceiling. His friend sits on a leather couch, shrugging as he says, "I don't know man, you've just been so weird lately."

Absently, the boy on the carpet mumbles, "Sorry, I guess."

"C'mon, talk to me. I'm your best friend, Hyunjin," Seungmin sighs. He rubs a distressed finger across his brow.

Hyunjin shakes his head. "There's just this weird feeling in my chest."

"What?" Seungmin leans forward on the couch, dangling his hand close to the boy's face.

He leans out of the way as he sits up, resting his palm on his heart. "I can't explain it. I feel full all of a sudden?"

"How long have you been like this?"

"Ever since the hippogriff situation."

Seungmin falls back against the plush of the couch. His mouth is agape until a smile creeps upon him and he laughs. "I hate to break this to you, Hyunjin, but I think you've developed a crush."

Your heart catches in your throat like a rock you're incapable of swallowing. It thrums louder than the conversation unfolding. Hyunjin's lips are loose as he glances around the room. His eyes sit on you a little too long, and you slowly back into the corridor.

What do you do with this information?

A harsh sneeze interrupts your slumber. You glance around through tired eyes. It's still dark in the room. Your roommate is snoring lightly.

You rest back onto the mattress, trying your hardest to dismiss a quiet cough. A bead of sweat trickles down your neck. Just what you need, you think as you shut your eyes. Maybe this is karma for sneaking into Hyunjin's space.

You hate the euphoria you experienced when you settled into bed that night. Heart a fluttering mess and cheeks pummeled with heat. Changbin would kill to hear this. Both ends. Regardless, though, you feel way too guilty to talk to Hyunjin. Some crushes are best suppressed, you think. A Slytherin-Gryffindor duo traditionally doesn't end well.

By the time you fall asleep, the sun has begun to rise. Then, by the time you wake up, the sun is ready to fall. You moan when your roommate asks if you're feeling alright. Her shivering hand comes in contact with your forehead. "Oh my God, you're burning up!"

You hiss, trying to pull your covers over your head. She tugs them back down.

"You should go to the infirmary," she says. "I'll help you there."

Hesitantly, you sit up. There's a sour taste in your mouth that burns the back of your throat. A quick palm jumps to your lips as you rush to the bathroom.

"Here," Jihyo comes close behind you. She offers a Ginger Ale.

"Thanks," you say, rubbing your mouth with the back of your hand. You take a quick swig of it, swishing it around before spitting it into the toilet.

Jihyo leads you out of the room with an arm around your shoulder. The common room is empty, aside from a few who sit behind vast textbooks. "Everyone's at dinner," she informs.

You don't have the energy to nod. It's hard enough trying to keep a straight path, even when you're leaning against her shoulder.

"Welcome back," the nurse jokes. You try to smile.

She takes your temperature after Jihyo tells her your situation. "Ooh. 101. Thank you for bringing them, sweetheart."

You take to a bed, slowly leaning to sit on it. Jihyo leaves shortly after, telling you to seek her if you need anything.

"How's your ankle doing?" the nurse asks as she offers you a cup of pills (a fever reducer and an anti inflammatory).

After you struggle to swallow them, you say (through a crackly voice), "Good, I guess. Still haven't gotten the story to it."

She presses her lips into a line, "That boy. I'll have to talk to him."

A strange light feeling punctures your heart. She pushes gently on your shoulders, forcing you to lie down. "Get some rest, dear."

Sleep comes very naturally. There's only a few moments where you struggle to return to it. The next day, the nurse brings you a cup of pudding for breakfast. You ask her what time it is.

"It's around 10. Monday."

You sigh. "I'm missing classes."

"I'm sure your professors won't mind, given you're still feverish," she checks your forehead with the back of her hand.

You eat the pudding in solidarity, watching the small TV across from you. It's displaying The Desperate Housewives of the Wizarding World. It's on all day, which is fine by you, since you're not leaving anytime soon. The final dismissal bell jumps you from your daze.

Only a few moments pass before the large doors swing, followed by the pattering of feet. "Y/N!"

Jisung rushes toward you, his burgundy robes trailing behind him. He pushes his round frames up. "Are you okay? I heard from Jihyo."

You nod. "Yeah, I feel a bit better now."

His hand finds your shoulder and he shakes you gently. "You're not going to believe this."

Your thoughts jump to Hyunjin and your eyes widen eagerly as you wait for him to continue.

"Hyunjin was whining all day about you. He was all 'where are they?' and stuff. Did something happen when McGonagall started that chore thing?"

You fight a grossly parasitical smile, shaking your head. "No. Nothing really."

He stays a little longer, telling you things you missed from the classes you share. As he's departing, you stop him. "Hey, Sung, I got a question."

He turns back to you. "Shoot."

"Can I borrow that magic note passing thing you bought on vacation?"

The good thing about Jisung is he doesn't ask questions. So long as you're not harming anyone, he'll do just about anything for you. He simply returns ten minutes later, gently placing the notepad on the table beside you. "You just write your note and address it. It should be sent immediately. Oh, and the other person receives a pen too," he informs, passing you a normal looking pen.

"Thank you, I owe you."

He waves his hand. "Nah, it's no big deal."

You pick up the pad of paper. It appears no different from normal paper, though it smells rather lemony. You rethink the words over and over before you finally settle. In the center of the paper, you write: I heard you missed me :)

Then, you address it before you can find a reason to regret this.

xi.

You cannot find yourself an ounce of sleep, so you stare at the television screen. It's still playing reruns. A paper fizzles into your lap, the corners materializing before the center. Your note reads back to you. You flip it over, where a new pattern of ink lay.

To Y/N: I'm going to murder Han Jisung.

Your laugh echoes in the large, empty infirmary. The nurse has gone to her quarters, now that the sun has set.

You write back, He has cool magic though!

Not only because it's true, but because you would like to keep this conversation going for just a little longer. Even if it is useless and greedy to want something like this from him.

Few seconds pass before the paper returns. To Y/N: I will give him that. I didn't even know this was a thing. Can we meet up in the Charms hall?

You bring your hand to your forehead. After Jisung's visit and your nutritious dinner of pudding, you feel much better. Like normal, even. Plus, the nurse had told you it's up to you when you want to return to daily life.

So you gather your things and return to your dorm. "Hi, Jihyo," you say quickly before rushing to shower. She is left in a dismal state of shock, staring at the bathroom door.

"I'm meeting up with someone, don't wait up for me," you inform as you pull a sweater on.

"Who?" she asks, bouncing her wand as she jiggles a paper midair.

You glance at her as you pull shoes on. "Classified info."

"Just say it's Hyunjin," she starts. "I can read you like a book."

You giggle. "Then fine, it's Hyunjin."

"Don't set the school on fire, please. I would like to finish my seventh year in peace."

"I don't plan on it."

"Be safe!" she calls as you open the door.

"I will."

You shuffle through the common room and out into the halls. Curfew was nearing. Maybe you should've grabbed your invisibility cloak.

In all honesty, you weren't sure why you were doing this. Until the glimmer of blond hair beneath the moonlight pierces your view. Knowing fills your chest, warm fairies dazzling your skin.

He looks up to you, a smile rushing onto his face. "I thought you weren't gonna show."

"Well, I suppose you're in luck."

He grabs your wrist when you're in reach, "Come on, I wanna show you something."

You allow him to pull you out to the courtyard. A little way's past the quidditch fields, there is a flower box. Filled to the brim with peonies and lilies. There's even a couple pink azaleas.

"Tada," he says, opening his arms to the post.

"You snuck me out of the castle to look at flowers?" you laugh.

"Not just any flowers," he points, crouching down to look at them. "Healing flowers."

"Really?" you inquire.

He looks up at you. Beneath the moonlight, his hair shines and his eyes twinkle amongst the stars. "Yeah. They heal everything."

"How do you even know about this?"

He shrugs, looking into the stamen of a certain peony. "My mom's a flower nerd. When she called most recently, she told me about this spot."

You crouch beside him, "Did she plant these?"

"Some of them. I think she likes azaleas, so probably those."

Your heart skips a beat. "Do you like the azaleas?"

"I-"

From behind you, a voice shouts, "Now I can't keep you away from each other?"

In sync, you look back. McGonagall is standing at the top of the hill, her arms crossed against her silk black robes. "Come on, you two, it's past curfew."

You dawdle up the hill, slightly limping on your ankle. You suppose you should have asked him about it.

When you meet McGonagall, she whispers, "By the way, I'm getting more eyes on you two. No more late night meetings."

xii.

The moon takes its reign in the sky, passing time as though it never wants to leave the throne. There's a waft of nutmeg traveling through the vents. Felix must be baking again.

The lamp on your bedside table clicks on. You look over to Jihyo, who is very much asleep. Her mouth hangs open and her limbs are flailed in varying directions.

A piece of paper forms against your chest. To Y/N: I'm sorry for getting you in trouble.

You shake your head, heart taking fire, as you search for a small piece of room to write: It's okay, I willingly went with you.

You wonder why he's awake. More importantly, why he's apologizing. He's never been one for owning up to anything, so why start now and here?

Within minutes, you receive the paper. To Y/N: I guess she can't police these notes haha

In return, you write: I hope not. Can you smell that nutmeg?

To Y/N: YES IT KEEPS TICKLING MY NOSE!!

To Hyunjin: It's probably just Felix, so I'm letting it slide this once.

To Y/N: Even then, I'm still considering killing him.

To Hyunjin: Same time you're gonna kill Jisung?

To Y/N: Yeah, actually. Thank you for reminding me.

You stifle a laugh, cautiously looking at Jihyo. She releases an abrupt snore, which stands in solitude.

To Hyunjin: Hey btw, do you know what happened to my ankle?

A few moments turn into minutes of twirling your thumbs for a response. The nutmeg retracts its intensity, leaving room for the Sandman to tarnish your eyes with the temptation of sleep. You grow tired of waiting, turning off your lamp and settling into the covers.

Morning comes, but the receiving message does not. You prepare for your day, following the stream of students to the dining hall. Hyunjin is already there, and his eyebags prove his late night. He looks up upon Seungmin's pointing, offering you a wave and a grin.

Nice Hyunjin is so weird.

You smile back. Changbin waits at the end of the food line by the time you get there. "Hey, heard you got caught with Hwang last night," he nudges your arm, raising his eyebrows.

"Nothing happened," you assure.

He nods, though he's not sure he believes you.

You grab a muffin and a carton of orange juice before following Changbin to Jisung, who is nursing a bowl of burnt oatmeal.

"How can you eat that shit?" Changbin grimaces.

You steal a glance in Hyunjin's direction. He's playing a rather intense game of rock, paper, scissors, with another Slytherin. After several rounds of ties, he finally beats the other with scissors. He pumps his balled fists into the air and laughs. His hair falls over his shoulders when he throws his head back.

He looks beautiful.

Maybe you were succumbing to the greed of this desire to be near him. So what if he was a Slytherin? He could be a Hufflepuff and no one would care if you two began seeing each other as more than friends. So why should anyone care if he's a Slytherin?

Jisung presses the tip of his wand against your cheek. "Hello?"

You hastily turn back to him, nearly redirecting his wand into your iris. He flinches back. "Zoned out much?"

"Sorry," you mumble, peeling the wrapper from your muffin.

"It's all good. I was asking if you're coming to Hogsmeade with us this weekend."

You tilt your head, as if the answer is teetering to one side of your brain. "I don't know."

"Come on," Changbin whines. "You've been so disconnected from us recently."

"Plus," Jisung adds, "This is gonna be the last weekend until April."

It's October. You sigh. "Fine. I suppose I'll tag along. But you guys are paying for butterbeer."

You probably would have gone anyway, despite how little you showed interest. Hearing their pitiful whines was just too fun.

"Good. Invite your boyfriend," Changbin nods to Hyunjin, who is walking down the aisle to get breakfast. He marks your gaze, turning a bit to come talk to you. A heat jumps to your chest, slowly rising to your face as he claims the seat beside you.

"Hi," he simpers, his eyes squinted and his teeth glimmering beneath the drowning sunlight.

"Hi," you return the expression. Not because you have to out of politeness, no, but because it's so hard not to.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" he asks, the smile quickly dissipating when he realizes Changbin is just over your shoulder. Eyes of a hawk, that one has.

You open your mouth to speak, but Changbin has already gathered his words. "Yes. They're coming with us."

You thrust your elbow back, nailing right between his ribs. He wheezes, doubling over. "Yeah, I'm going," you tell Hyunjin.

"Good. Meet me at the sweet shop around one," he pauses, turning to Jisung, "I won't keep them long. Promise."

Jisung shakes a free hand as he pools oatmeal onto his spoon, "No, it's fine. Take as long as you need."

Hyunjin smiles. "Nice. Okay, I'll see you later," he stands, patting your shoulder as he walks by.

"What a nice guy," Changbin manages with a smile, though he's still clutching his chest.

xiii.

His gaze is tilted upward as he watches the chocolate dragonflies dart to and fro across the ceiling. There's the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lip. It twitches ever so slightly when a dragonfly threatens to sit on his nose.

"Hey," you greet. He jumps a little, turning to you. The chocolate bug has vanished, fluttering up to its haven.

"Oh, hi. I didn't think you'd get here so quick," he laughs.

You glance at your wrist. "It's 1:05."

He shrugs. "Aren't Gryffindors normally late?"

"Aren't Slytherins not the type to wait around for a Gryffindor?" you retaliate.

He nods, pointing a finger at you as his eyebrows furrow. "Touche."

He buys you a chocolate frog, despite your complaints that you could pay for your own. "No, no, it's on me," he insisted, shoving his money into the cashier's palm before you can say much else.

You perch atop floating stools, staring at him as he tries to wrangle his frog. His mouth hangs open with anticipation as he tries to guide it there. There's a tug at your chest that compels you to smile.

"So why'd you want to meet with me? I thought you were still in your sulky phase," you tease.

He looks up at you. There's a film of innocence to them. For a moment, you forget his reputation. He blinks, summoning a twinkle to the corner of his right eye. "I wanted to ask you for some advice," he finally says, rather confidently. His posture straightens and a cocky smile finds his lips. The Hyunjin you know.

"You didn't knock a girl up, did you? Because I will not be helping you get out of that one. You may be cool, but not that cool," you ramble.

His frog jumps from his palm, hopping away into the niche of chocolate animals with a poised ribbit. Hyunjin rolls his eyes, though a contradicting smile forms. "I was looking for this spell."

You lean closer, interested. "And? Which one?"

"Amortentia."

You pull back. That's a love potion. "Why would you need that?"

He sucks air in through his teeth, glancing away as he informs, "Well, I wanted to use it on you, but I thought maybe it's best not to drug you."

You laugh despite the thundering of your chest. Your fingers find the corner of a Wizard

Card, routinely picking at it to distract yourself. Hesitantly, you mumble,"What are you trying to say here?"

"God, Gryffindors are so dense," he throws his head back, a bubbling laugh bursting into

the air.

"No, I just want to hear you say it."

He groans, gaze slipping back to yours, "I like you a little bit."

"A little bit?" you challenge, recalling his fit in the Slytherin common room.

Hyunjin rests his arms on the table as he leans closer to you, your noses nearly touching. "It sounds like someone told you something. You don't seem very surprised," he hesitates before adding a quiet, "or appalled."

His lips are so close to yours. You can smell his green apple chapstick. You find yourself at a loss for words, for his lips keep your gaze. Oh, what the hell. You close the gap between you, allowing your lips to mingle for a few seconds before pulling away. There's a small giggle to your words as you say, "You're not good at hiding your emotions, Hwang Hyunjin. Aren't Slytherins supposed to be good at stuff like that?"

He scoffs. "Aren't Gryffindors supposed to be noble? You snuck into the Slytherin common room!"

"How'd you know?"

He chuckles, "Your shoulder kinda slipped out of the cloak."

This takes a minute to process. It seems like your usage of the invisibility cloak will now be put on hold. You can only look at the oak table, lips pursed in a disappointing defeat.

You rotate your ankles in small circles when you remember. "Hey, by the way, why was my ankle all messed up? You never answered my letter."

"Seungmin came in," he grabs your hand. "But when I was carrying you back to the castle I may have been a little careless and let your ankle run through a bush of thorns."

You smack his arm with your free hand, mouth agape. "You what?"

"It was an accident! I'll make it up to you," he promises.

"How so?"

He draws your lips to his for a quick peck. "What do you want?"

You think, squinting. "Hmm. I can get anything?"

"Within reason," he declares. "I'm not buying you a unicorn or anything."

You shake your head, for what you want is much more simple. "Can we go on cute dates?"

He hums, interlacing your fingers. "Of course."

"Oh! And we have to go to the Yule Ball together-"

"Sure."

"But we're wearing Gryffindor colors."

He drops your hand, pulling away as if your fingertips scalded him. "Absolutely not."

"C'mon, you owe me."

"Not that much. Your ankle will heal. My pride, however, will not."

You sigh. "Fine, we can settle for non-house colors."

"Deal."

xiv.

"I saw him playing with your fingers," Changbin shakes you vehemently after you sit down at the dining table.

"Why won't you let this go?" you ask.

"Well, you see, when a guy who traditionally hates someone randomly asks them to hang out, their friends should be a little concerned."

You look to Jisung, who is more interested in his soup. "Did you watch us too?" you ask.

He barely looks up. "No, I was at the book shop—I think."

You turn back to Changbin, though he's already shaking his hands in defense. "No, the difference between me and Jisung is-"

"That Jisung's smarter than you?" Hyunjin appears, sitting on the bench beside you.

"Yeah, I think it's that," you nod, sharing his smirked gaze.

"No," Changbin defends, "Jisung is only concerned for physical wellbeing after the fact. I care prior to the event happening."

"If we all lived your way, we'd be sheltered," Jisung adds, twirling his spoon.

They dive into a heated discussion bordering an argument. Hyunjin wraps his arm around you, and the sounds of Changbin whining fades to black. You look up at him, "Shouldn't you be sitting with Seungmin?"

He shakes his head. "I got banished for talking too much about you."

You roll your eyes. "Don't sacrifice your friends because of me."

"Hey, you're the one who makes me this way. If I could not be 'Y/N would like this' every time I saw anything that even remotely reminded me of you, trust me, I would."

"Do you really do that?"

"Any time I see flowers," he sheepishly admits. He catches glimpses of the flower beds every day, nearly four times. Sometimes five if he sneaks out to see you.

You chuckle. "Just say you're in love with me, geez."

"I don't want to inflate your ego," he kisses your temple.

A stray comment from Changbin floats into your bubble, "Gross!"

"Speaking of egos, do you have your suit for the ball?" you ask, pushing your spoon into the sea of spinach and kale.

"I guess I should tell my mom about that," he mumbles.

"Hyunjin! The ball is in a week!"

"Yeah, and I also need to tell her we're dating," he laughs dryly, suddenly absorbed with something down the aisle.

You shrug his arm off of your shoulder. "What? It's been nearly a month!"

He looks back at you as if you're arguing over spilled milk. "Life at the Hwangs is very hectic, okay?"

"He's lying," Changbin says. "They only see each other, pay the kids, and leave."

Hyunjin looks ready to punch the sly grin off of his face. Instead, he pats your thigh. "I'll call her tonight."

xv.

He calls to you from across the bustling room. You stand in awe as your eyes lay upon the black velvet of his blazer. In the chest pocket is a red and gold handkerchief, folded to perfection.

"You look great," he simpers, eyes slipping from your exposed collarbone down to the dark green fabric that expands out from your blanketed feet.

He wraps an arm around your waist, whispering, "You're wearing my color."

Butterflies take reign over your stomach, swarming out in packs. You grow shy as he pulls away.

"You look stunning," he presses a soft kiss on your lips.

He drags you over to Seungmin, who chats with Minho in carefully structured quips.

Seungmin takes a long look at your gown, smiling as he comments, "Slytherin colors."

"You know," Hyunjin turns to you, "I was going to get a red suit but they were incredibly ugly so I'm settling for a handkerchief."

You smile up at him, "It's okay, the sentiment is there."

Minho dismisses himself when he spots a cat swaying between dancing feet. Its eyes are wide with fright as it stares up at the unfamiliar faces in search of its owner. Seungmin smiles fondly as he watches the boy pick up the cat, delicately taking it out of the room.

"Where are Thing One and Thing Two?" Hyunjin inquires, leaning against the bar.

You scan the hall. "I'm not sure. Changbin said he'd be here. Jisung might skip out."

Seungmin laughs unexpectedly, receiving a few confused glares in return. He soon clarifies after taking a sip of water, "I was thinking about Changbin having a date. Weird."

He certainly doesn't have a date. When he arrives, the ball is nearly over and his tie is messily made up.

"Did you get dressed in the dark?" Seungmin stares as he approaches.

"Yes, actually. Long story."

A slower song comes on. It's a change in scenery from the previous publike songs. Hyunjin offers you his hand, dramatically asking, "May I have this dance?"

Your hand slips into his, "You may."

He guides you to an empty spot near the edges of the dance crowd, swiftly tucking his arms around your waist. You nestle yours around his neck. For a few seconds, you stare into his big brown eyes, watching as the twinkle shifts in the light. You fight a smile.

"What's the smile for?"

"Nothing," you say, pressing your cheek to his chest so you can grin in peace.

He sighs, though a vibration in his chest tells you he's also laughing. "I know we tease each other a lot, but I love you."

Your heart skips a beat and your breath clogs up in your throat, though your smile never falters. Each day that has passed, it has grown harder to fight saying those words. When you return them, you feel lighter. As though you have relinquished thirty pounds from your shoulders.

"Don't tell anyone I'm getting sappy with a Gryffindor," he fake gags.

"Same to you, snake."

You smile in these moments. With music guiding your feet and a boy who warms your heart, despite his stereotypically shivering attributes. He rests his chin atop your head as he repeats those cursed words, grounding you with him more and more each time. He's yours. And you're his.

Perhaps it's always been that way.

#bandaigaeru #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin skz #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids imagine #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin au #skz au #stray kids au #skz imagine #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #slytherin hyunjin

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anna-kendrick · 4 years ago

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holding my breath ('til i can say all of the words i wanna say)

Beca goes home with Chloe for thanksgiving.

For @beca-mitchell

Read on AO3, or below.

Chloe regrets asking the moment it comes out of her mouth.

“Come home with me.”

It's not that she doesn't want to bring Beca—her wonderful and loving girlfriend of over a year—home to visit her family, it's more the fact of how do you tell your wonderful and loving girlfriend of over a year that you didn't actually tell your parents that you two were dating because they're homophobic.

Yeah, she has a slight problem.

Chloe wasn't even sure if Beca would even say yes to begin with. It's her third year at Barden, and her third thanksgiving that she'd be spending on campus. Rather than taking a trip back to Seattle to visit her mother, Beca had explained that she prefers her alone time in the comfort of her room, away from all the reminders of her rocky childhood. Chloe gets it.

But more selfishly than not wanting to leave her girlfriend back in Atlanta alone—aka with most of the Bellas and very much not alone—Chloe didn't want to spend a week away from Beca. That's what brings them to this very moment.

Beca’s clearly taken aback by the question, and Chloe finds the slight blush that's creeping across her cheeks absolutely adorable.

“You're serious?” This is her out, Chloe thinks. Make it sound less appealing, tell her the truth, or just completely take back the offer and—

“Totes serious.” Well fuck.

The smug grin that grows on Beca’s face is enough to vanish all her worries for the moment. Chloe’s quick to reflect one back as Beca pulls her in for a kiss, a version of a ‘yes’ in her own, sweet language.

When Beca mumbles an “I love you,” against her lips, Chloe feels her knees go weak.

***

She doesn't bring it up.

It's sitting in the back of her mind at all times in the weeks following, but she doesn't bring it up.

Beca's seemingly excited to go on this trip to Portland. She says she's never been, and Chloe finds herself looking forward to showing her all of the places where she grew up. She ignores it when Beca tells her that she's excited to see her parents again, and jokingly teases her that she thinks they like her better.

Beca really has no idea.

It's on their final descent when Chloe realizes her mistake. She feels Beca’s hand squeeze in her own, looking over to see her wearing a soft smile—one of comfort and warmth—as if Beca could read her mind. She wishes it were true, it would make things so much easier.

But Beca simply mouths ‘you’re okay,’ and attributes Chloe’s nervous energy to flight anxiety. That’s truly the least of her worries right now, honestly the plane crashing to the ground seems like it could be a better scenario to what she’s going to have to do. Easier, and chances are less painful, too.

Beca squeezes her hand again, waiting for Chloe to squeeze back—their own little form of communication, a way for Chloe to say ‘I’m okay,’ without saying it aloud. Chloe shakes herself from her morbid thoughts, and kisses Beca’s cheek instead, before nuzzling herself into Beca’s shoulder. She feels herself relax slightly as Beca drops her head onto hers, and lets out a quiet hum.

She knows she's messed up. She goes over all the possible outcomes in her head as she watches other passengers deboard the plane. It's the one where she breaks Beca’s trust, and her heart that sticks out the most to her.

Beca never lets go of her hand as they walk off the plane. Chloe can hear her speaking, probably talking about all the new music ideas she thought of on their long flight over, but she can't make out any of the words—she's too lost in her own mind.

“Chlo?” She’s snapped out of her non stop reel of scenarios when Beca stops in place, tilting her head in concern. Beca knows her so well, it makes her want to cry. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.” She lies, and offers a smile. It seems to satisfy Beca, who grins back and squeezes her hand again gently before going to resume their trail to the baggage claim.

This is it. She has to do it.

“Bec, wait—” Her voice catches in her throat when Beca looks back, eyes full of questions and concern—so patient and so loving. She thinks she might throw up.

She lets go of Beca’s hand.

“They don't know you’re my girlfriend. Please don't tell them, I’m sorry.” Chloe takes a deep breath, fighting back her tears, because God forbid she cries in the middle of this damn airport.

One glance at Beca’s face and her heart feels like it's being crushed inside her chest. She can't say anything else, she can't even look at her.

“Um— Our bags, lets go get our bags.”

***

They meet Chloe’s parents outside of the airport about a half hour later, the silence that had been deafening between her and Beca finally breaking.

Alice greets Beca with a smile and a tight hug. “We’re so happy Chloe was able to talk you into coming home with her.”

“She didn’t have to say much, I’m glad to be here. Thanks for letting me stay with you guys.” Beca says it so sincerely, it only makes Chloe feel worse.

“Please, Beca, you know you’re a part of the family. You can visit anytime, even without this one here.” Dale points to Chloe, giving Beca a wink and one of his signature Beale smiles. Beca giggles and looks over to her Chloe with a soft smile.

Chloe turns to look out the window instead.

The drive to the Beale family home is longer than Chloe remembers—louder too, as her dad sings along obnoxiously to the songs on the radio, and her thoughts continue to echo inside of her head. Beca’s more silent than usual though, and Chloe takes the risk of glancing over to check on her.

Beca’s the one peering out the window now, headphones plugged in as she listens to her own music. It almost makes Chloe smile, just seeing Beca next to her, as they drive through her hometown. The feeling is fleeting however, as Chloe takes note of Beca chewing the skin on her thumb—a nervous habit most likely brought on by all of the shit Chloe sprung on her at the airport. She wants nothing more than to reach over and pull her hand away, entangle their fingers together and squeeze Beca’s hand tightly.

She meets her mothers gaze in the mirror, and immediately realizes how bad of an idea this was.

***

It’s later that night—after Chloe had spent ten minutes convincing, more like begging, her mother to let Beca sleep in her room upstairs and not in the basement

(“It’s freezing down there. I’ll just make a bed for myself on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Chloe.”)

—that Beca finally broaches the subject.

“Chloe?” She hears Beca whisper through the dark. She lays silently, debating whether or not she should answer, or pretend to be asleep and hope that Beca lets it go—she already knows what she's about to ask.

“Baby, I know you're awake.” She could insist that she is asleep—continue to hold her breath and fight back the tears that are already pricking from behind her eyelids—but she knows that Beca knows her better than anyone else, knows that Beca’s worried about her from the way that her hand now softly brushes through her hair.

“Chlo—”

“Yeah, I'm awake.” Chloe whispers, rolling around to face her girlfriend. She feels the guilt swirl in her stomach immediately with just one look at the sad eyes in front of her.

She knew it was coming, but when Beca mumbles “Why didn't you tell them? I—I don't mean to pry, I’m sorry, I just—Are you okay?” tears immediately spill from her eyes, and she has to choke back the sob that threatens to come out.

It makes her heart clench to think about how far her and Beca have come since that day at the activities fair. It had taken so long to get Beca to open up to her, to even just accept a hug from her. It makes her sick to think about how disappointed her parents would be if they walked in on the two of them at this moment—their daughter wrapped up in her girlfriends arms as Beca continues to rub her back soothingly.

She feels so fucking guilty. A disappointment to both her family, and towards the woman she loves. She hates herself for it.

Beca's hands feel so soft against her cheeks as she holds them and lightly brushes her tears away. It's dark in the room, but she can still clearly make out Beca’s features in the moonlight that spills in from the window. Beca looks beautiful, she looks sad, but she’s so beautiful.

“I didn't know how to tell you.” Her voice sounds unrecognizable to her own ears, it's raspy with tears, and she can hear the lie within her own speech. It's not that she didn't know how to, it's that she didn't want to.

How was she supposed to tell her best friend—her girlfriend—that her parents would hate her? How was she supposed to explain that yes, they had met her before and treated her like a second daughter, but as soon as they found out Beca was more than just a friend, they'd look at her with pure disgust and detest? How was she supposed to bring that up in a conversation where Beca’s telling her that her father has been putting more effort in, that he's happy for the two of them and that he’d like to have both over for dinner one night?

She's never wanted Beca to feel as if she was a secret, that their blooming relationship was something that Chloe was ashamed of. And now, Chloe doesn't even know why she invited Beca here in the first place, because while reserved, Beca’s the proudest of their relationship, and she can see it in her face right now how much she's hurting.

Chloe knows it's her fault.

“I'm not mad at you.” Beca's smiling softly at her—a sad smile—one of encouragement, or one to try to deter the situation, because she knows that Chloe’ll be upset if Beca shows that she’s upset, Chloe doesn't know. She doesn’t really care either, she just wants to go home. Atlanta home, away from this life she had so happily left behind.

What she does know, is that Beca is one of the most patient, and selfless people she's ever met. She knows she doesn't have to say anything, that she could simply ignore the situation entirely, tell Beca that she's tired, and it'd get dropped. She knows Beca wouldn't push her if she wasn't ready to tell her.

But she also knows that Beca deserves an answer.

“They would hate me if they found out, Bec.” She realizes that it's been a while since she admitted this dark secret of hers aloud. Not since her first year at Barden, when she confided in Aubrey over a bottle of cheap wine.

“It's not that I'm not proud to be with you, I promise. It's just that— I’m scared to lose them. I don't want to lose you, but I can't lose them either, Beca. I'm so sorry.”

She's crying again—she doesn't know if she ever really stopped—but Beca’s soft lips are soon pressed against hers; familiar, comforting, safe.

“You'd never lose me.” Beca whispers against her lips in between kisses, and it's like a blanket of warmth courses through Chloe’s body. It's still crazy to her how in the midst of feeling so sad and confused, Beca can make her feel so loved, make her thoughts that had just moments ago felt so jumbled, suddenly so clear.

“I will tell them.” She states, breaking apart from Beca’s kiss, nodding her head in affirmation.

“You don't have to.”

“I will. Eventually, I will. Maybe not this week, but one day I will.” And Beca’s smile in response is enough for her to know that she’s supported, that Beca will hold her hand through it all.

“I think you're really brave, Chloe.” She doesn't expect that as a response, and she's ready to open her mouth and argue against Beca’s words—tell her that she doesn't feel brave at all—but Beca beats her to it. “No, you really are, and it's one of the things I love most about you. Thank you for telling me.”

There’s something about Beca Mitchell that Chloe finds so captivating. Perhaps it’s the way she smiles so genuinely and so lovingly at her, before she breaks out into a cheeky grin and pulls Chloe back in for another kiss. Maybe it’s the trust that she seems to give Chloe unconditionally, something that she’s seen Beca struggle with so much over the course of knowing her. Beca’s passion, loyalty, determination… Perhaps it’s just Beca’s big heart, that tends to tug on her own, and make her feel weak in the knees.

“You know I love you, right?” Chloe can tell Beca’s getting tired by the pure laziness that’s beginning to leak into her kisses, her heavy hands that are no longer roaming, but holding her close and still against her.

“You’ve told me a few times. I love you, too. I’m fucking exhausted, your family is insane. Sorry that was—”

“Bec, it’s okay.” Chloe laughs softly squeezing Beca’s hand that continues to lay softly on her hip. “They really are, you’re right. But I have you, I think I’m pretty lucky.”

“Oh, my God—you’re gross. So gross. Go to sleep or I’m moving down to the basement.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.”

#bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect #anna kendrick #brittany snow #au #i'm so nervous anytime i post stuff like this it makes me wanna vom #but theresa ily and this is for u #ignore the fact that they look like whole ass 30 year olds in this gift when they're supposed to be pp2ish era #anyway.. *logs off*#my writing #edits #mine #mine:au #mine:fic

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briswriting · 4 years ago

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『 aquarium date where you finally admit your love to each other 』

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader genre: fluff wc: 1541 fluffvember masterlist

a/n: yay day one of fluffvember is finally here!! good job jojo on guessing correctly ahaha anyway i hope you guys enjoy this sorry its not proofread ahhh but i hope its cute and fluffy enough to start out fluffvember :D

Nerves always seemed to wreck through your body whenever you were around Kuroo. Sure the two of you have been seeing each other for a few months, having been on a handful of dates when your busy schedules allowed it, and becoming official only a week ago, but that never seemed to calm you down.

His mere presence made your heart flutter and your mind race. The stupid grin on your face never fading when he was with you because he made you happy, the happiest you’ve ever been.

It wasn’t until the night he asked you to be his officially, after he had dropped you back off at your place, did you realize that you were in love. In love with Kuroo Tetsurou, the guy in your class that you had become acquainted with when he had asked to borrow the first part of your notes after showing up ten minutes late and settling into the empty seat beside you. The same guy who was obnoxiously loud when saying goodbye to his friends before entering the lecture hall, yet the one who had been able to catch your eye the first week of classes.

You loved him and as your mind drifted to sleep that night, you hoped that one day he’d feel the same way.

Kuroo knew at that moment, when the two of you first spoke to each other in hushed whispers in your shared lecture, that he wanted to get to know you better. And so he did.

His unofficial assigned seat was so longer the exact middle seat in row five after that day, but the seat next to you, the cutie who had caught his eye on the first day of class.

He liked to thank fate for letting him be late that one day and thanked it again for causing one of the only available seats left in the room to be the one by your side, giving him the perfect opportunity to talk to you finally.

The night he finally made the two of you official, he knew he was in love but was too scared to tell you those three words, hoping that one day he’d gather the courage to tell you and that you’d hopefully feel the same way.

The local aquarium was reasonably crowded for a Saturday as the two of you entered the building after scanning your tickets at the entryway. Kuroo’s hand instantly moving to entwine with yours, mumbling something about not wanting to lose you in the crowd full of adults and their wandering children.

Squeezing his hand slightly before flashing a smile at him, you quickly pull him over to the large directory board to plan out where you wanted to go first.

His eyes scan over your face as your own eyes check the map of the aquarium, eyebrows slightly furrowed together as you mumbled to yourself about where you wanted to go first.

“Let’s go see the otters first! No wait, let’s go to the tide pool and touch the animals there! Or we can-”

“Woah woah woah slow your roll there,” he interrupts you, a grin growing on his face. “We’ve got all day to get to see everything. Don’t think too hard; you’re going to fry your cute little brain.”

“Rude,” you mumble, a pout on your lips as you glance up at him. “If my brain is little, then what about yours? I did better on that last exam than you.”

He lets out a loud laugh that definitely catches people’s attention when you poke your tongue out at him like a child, reaching up with his free hand to poke at your cheek before retorting back. “You did better by one point! And I swear that one point was biased. Our TA definitely has the hots for you!”

“He does not!”

“Does too! Oh, Y/N! You’re so wonderful and amazing. How has your day been? Let me completely ignore the totally smoking hot dude holding your hand when you walk into class together!” His voice changing to mimic that of the teacher assistant in your lecture, causing you to burst out into laughter at his antics.

“Oh, shut up! He doesn’t even sound like that! He’s just nice, unlike you! Besides, I’ve only got the hots for one person, and that person is you.” Winking at him teasingly before turning around and pulling on his hand, leading him to the closest exhibit. “Now come on, let’s go explore this aquarium!”

Kuroo enjoyed observing the ways your eyes light up as the two of you walked around the aquarium hand in hand. Your attention solely on the aquatic animals and not him, not that he was complaining.

He enjoyed the sparkle of pure joy and the wide smile that tugged on your lips. The giddiness and excitement in your voice as you pointed something out in the tank with a show of your hands made his fondness for you grow.

Today is the day, he thinks, the day I tell Y/N that I love them.

He’s not sure what finally gives him the courage to tell you the three words. Maybe it’s the way you smile so brightly at him while your excited or the way he grows a little envious thinking of you smiling that way for someone else. All he knows is that he wants to tell you how he truly feels.

And as the two of you approach the aquarium tunnel, what will soon be his favorite place on Earth, he knows that right now is the perfect timing to tell you. Underneath the dark blue lights of the tanks as fish and other aquatic creatures swim above your heads and all around you. He observes you as your dazzling eyes look up to watch a whale pay no mind and glide over the two of you.

Maybe it was fate helping him out again, but Kuroo was thankful that the tunnel was empty, just the two of you there standing hand in hand.

“Hey, did you know I can speak whale?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence that surrounds you.

“We’re in public! If you’re going to do what I’m thinking of, I will leave your ass here,” you point out, free hand on your hip as you raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for his next move.

“You wouldn’t.” Flashing you a cheeky smile before looking away and towards the whale that just swam by. “hELlOOooOOO tHErE mR WHaLE.”

“You’re so embarrassing. I’m glad no one else is in here; otherwise, they’d get horrible secondhand embarrassment.”

Even with your complaints, Kuroo quickly notices that your smile is the biggest it’s been all day as you try to stifle your laughter. Whether it’s laughing with him or at him, he doesn’t really care because the sound of your giggles is like music to his ears, and he prides himself in being the reason behind it.

As the two of you calm down from your laughing fit, you notice the whale making its way back over to the two of you, a loud noise coming from the large mammal. Your eyes widening as you look over at Kuroo; his own eyes are wide with disbelief.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you actually talked to it,” you whisper as you watch the whale swim over the top of your heads once again.

And as it passes and swims away, the both of you are sent into another fit of laughter.

“I really did that! I told you I spoke whale!”

“You’re such a dork! But I guess you can actually speak whale,” you giggle, taking a moment to finally catch your breath.

“What did I tell you? I’m amazing!” He boasts proudly, letting go of your hand for the first time that day to instead wrap his arms around you from behind, his chin nestling itself onto your shoulder as the two of you watch the whale swim away.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” you tease back. Quickly regretting your words as he keeps you trapped in his arms and prods his fingers into your sides, laughing as you struggle to try and squirm out of his grasp.

And as you wiggle around in his arms to avoid anymore poking fingers, he can’t help to think that the overwhelming joy he feels whenever he’s around you is love. You’re the one for him, the one he loves with his whole heart. He knows this with everything in him.

“I love you.”

His voice is so soft, barely even a whisper in your ear. You’re sure you imagined it, but when you turn around in his arms and look into his eyes, you know you didn’t imagine hearing the three words you’ve been wanting to tell him.

You’re breathless as you stare into his eyes, eyes filled to the brim with love for you as your own show him that you felt the same way. Leaning up to press a delicate kiss to his lips, the soft form of intimacy, revealing the overwhelming love you shared for each other while you embraced each other under the sea.

“I love you more.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #tetsuro kuroo x reader #tetsurou kuroo #tetsuro kuroo #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fanfiction #bri takes on fluffvember #haikyuu #hq!!#hq x reader #hq imagines

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suite43 · 3 years ago

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this was a commissioned peice of writing for @princemai . If you're interested in a commission, dm me!

Adjusting to life after the war was never going to be easy. How do you coexist with the people who've been trying to kill you for millions of years? It didn't take a nihilist to think that the peace wouldn't last.

Bumblebee counted himself pleasantly surprised that, well, something seemed to last. Peace wasn't the right word, but at least it was less "endlessely killing each other" and more "the entire universe hates us and we can't really blame them". But for the most part, these days, things were peaceful.

That didn't mean it was easy.

You wouldn't call it easy to wake up next to the closest thing you'd ever had to an arch-nemisis wrapped around you. You wouldn't quite know what to do with the fact that as much as he hates to admit it, he's afraid of the dark. And you wouldn't blame yourself for waking up sometimes afraid that you'll find a knife at your throat.

It wasn't easy. But it was peaceful, more or less. Because when Starscream kissed him in that way he did almost every morning, gentle and still half-asleep, Bumblebee could nearly forget he'd ever thought of the mech next to him as dangerous, and a part of him would wonder why it hadn't always been like this.

But then they get up, and the day would go on, and even though there's peace now, there's a lot of history, and Bumblebee can't help but feel like they're both just waiting for everything to turn sideways.

Bumblebee wants to trust Starscream. And he does, on some level at least. Immensely so. Enough to have trusted him with the fate of the universe. But every argument, every time the banter hits just a little bit too close to home, every time Starscream slips back into a crueler, more violent version of himself, Bumblebee wonders to himself if maybe this is it. After all, it wasn't really that long ago that they were shooting at each other.

Starscream has the same thoughts. Obviously, he won't admit it, but it's easy enough to see through his acts once you know him well enough - When did Bumblebee start to know him well enough? How the hell did that happen? It all feels so fast - But sometimes when there's a certain tension in his wings and his fingers curl up ever so slightly and his eyes shoot around, planning his escape, Bumblebee knows that Starscream is just as scared as he is.

It's not always like that. There are moments when they're alone where it feels like none of that matters. They sit together on their couch and they're quiet as they both do their own thing, and Bumblebee shifts to lean against Starscream's shoulder and Starscream wraps one arm around him, his hand idly tracing small circles on Bumblebee's plating, and it just feels right. Bumblebee feels more safe there than anywhere in the universe, curled into the side of one of the most dangerous people in the universe. In a moment like that, he'd tear his spark out and put it in Starscream's hands if he asked him to.

But... It wasn't that long ago that he watched people he loved die at those hands. Those same strong, clever hands that slotted perfectly into his like they were built that way, like everything in their lives had led them to this specific touch. Bumblebee wasn't a big believer in destiny but sometimes everything would line up just so, and if he'd been slightly more of a romantic he'd've called them soulmates.

It was this confusing blend of love and hate, of forgiveness and grudge and grief and adoration that didn't make sense at all and yet when Starscream knows exactly what to order him when they go out it makes perfect sense. And, somehow, it works out.

They've never really talked about... well, whatever this is. It's clearly a relationship, at this point. It's hard to argue for 'just friends' after that many rounds of... well, you know what. It's equally as hard after catching each other after god-knows-how-many nightmares, after thousands of late-late-night conversations, after the way that making each other laugh became the easiest thing in the world, after the way that they would whisper sweet complements between each other like a secret because it was far too embarrasing to say loudly.

So yeah, it was a relationship. But "open, honest communication" was not exactly in Starscream's skillset, and, well, Bee wasn't really sure he wanted to talk about it either. Putting a name on it felt. Dangerous. Like it'd ruin it. There'd be too much pressure, too much commitment, too much... truth. It felt like confessing something that he wasn't ready for.

It was one thing to sleep with Starscream. It was another to, say, kiss Starscream. It was a third thing to literally sleep with Starscream, to trust the second-least-trustworthy person on Cybertron to be with him at his most vulnerable. But to be dating Starscream? To introduce Starscream as his partner? As his conjunx? That was a world of different things that Bumblebee was absolutely not prepared to handle.

What was he supposed to say? Oh, by the way, this is my conjunx. He's killed more people than my brain can even comprehend, but he also saved the universe that one time so it's totally cool now, don't worry!

But he loved him, and that was the problem. He loved Starscream so much, and he wanted everyone in the universe to know about the funny, thoughtful, brilliant person that he loved with all his heart.

And didn't it mean something that Bumblebee had seen Starscream at his absolute worst, and still decided that loving him was worthwhile? It wasn't like Bee was just flailing at the whims of his emotions, he chose to be here. Well, not the first time, that had just kind of happened. But after that, he'd chosen to stay, because loving him seemed worth the trouble of hating him, right? And Starscream was getting better, and that was a good thing.

And who was he worried about knowing? The handful of people Bumblebee would've bothered to tell if they did get married already knew the situation, and it wasn't exactly like either of them were really public figures anymore. The government job Windblade had gotten to keep Starscream busy was mostly just paperwork, and aside from the odd job here or there Bumblebee didn't do much. He'd basically retired. So they weren't going to be the talk of the town or anything. Besides, it's kind of old news, there'd been rumors of them doing something together pretty much since the second the war ended. It wasn't true then, but by now the scandal had kinda worn off and it was more of a "yeah, no shit" kind of gossip.

Still. A decade or so of closeness didn't really feel like long enough for a lifetime commitment, especially after what, four million years of hating each other beforehand?

But... Life is shorter than you expect it to be, right? They'd both died once over the course of this whatever-it-was. And the second time, they really had thought it'd stick, and Starscream sorta-haunting him from another dimension or whatever seemed like it was a permanent commitment, and that didn't scare Bumblebee at all. It sounded nice, not having to be alone again. This was like that, except he could be alone, sometimes, because neither of them could walk through walls or locked doors anymore so all he had to do for some privacy was tell Starscream to politely fuck off for a bit, which was a plus, right? Way more pracitcal.

"Can't we talk about this in the morning?" Starscream complained, eyes half shut, snapping Bumblebee out of his train of thought.

"What?" Bumblebee asked, confused.

"I don't want you to propose while we're drunk and you're rambling, idiot," Starscream was laying in Bee's lap, nuzzling his face into Bee's stomach plating. They were holding hands. When did that happen? "We can talk about it later."

Oh, shit.

"How much of that did I say out loud?"

"I dunno, you talk a lot. You're keeping me up."

"Shit. Sorry."

"S'okay. Your voice is nice."

"Oh." It was quiet for a minute.

"It's okay if you hate me. I get it," Starscream said.

"I don't hate you," Bee responded, blinking a few times, trying to shake off the feeling of spinning. "I like it when you're here."

"But you kind of have to hate somebody a little to love them, right?" Starscream shifted, staring up at the ceiling, head still resting on Bee's stomach. "I mean, it's hard to be with someone all the time. Especially when you're stubborn and stupid, and you do stupid obnoxious things and I hate it. But if you weren't those things I hate, you wouldn't entirely be you. And I don't just like parts of you, I like you, and I can hate things you do while still knowing that it's you, and I love who you are. Even when we piss each other off. It's still you. Right?"

"Do you think i'm stupid? I'm not stupid."

"You're missing the point."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Stop apologizing so much. I hate it when you apologize." Starscream's hand squeezed his a little tighter.

"Oh... uh. sorry."

"You make me feel... like..." Starscream just kind of trailed off.

"Yeah, I know. you too... uh. I mean. you make me. uh. you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"This is good, right?"

"Mmm, it's gonna feel shitty in the morning, but right now it's good."

"What about after tommorow?"

"I don't know. Ask me then."

"Hm."

"I don't have a plan, Bee. That's not normal for me. But I don't need you to tell me it's going to be like this forever, because it probably won't be. Things don't work out like that for us. But right now, for the first time in my entire life, I'm genuinely satisfied. Can we just enjoy that? I don't know how to be happy, Bee. I don't know how to handle it. But I'm trying to make this work. We can go back to shooting each other tommorow if that's easier for you, but right now, I'm happy."

"Yeah? Yeah. Me too. God, I'm happy," Bumblebee pulled their joined hands up, pressing a kiss to Starscream's knuckles where they intersected. "I'm happy that you're happy. I want you to be happy."

"I know," Starscream said. He muttered something else, but it was quiet and slurred and Bee couldn't quite make it out. In his head, Bee imagined it was something along the lines of I love you.

#the prompt was 'so why arent bee and starscream conjunxed' and i got to go from there #it was interesting! this is pretty stream of conciousness so i hope its interesting to yall as well!#red.doc #starbee #maccadams

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sunshineseung · 4 years ago

Text

Little Secret // Changbin

🍄 | genre: smut mini-series ☁️ | pairing: Seo Changbin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 2k 🌸 | includes: plot *yawn*, masturbation, fear of being caught, actually being caught, most of the hot and heavy stuff happens in the other parts lmao

☀️ | synopsis: Seo Changbin is your brother’s best friend. He comes over all the time, and you practically grew up together. If only you hadn’t gotten a crush on him. If only he knew how hard you had fallen for him.

You and your brother had never been as close as your parents had hoped. Jisung was always loud and obnoxious, making friends everywhere he went and never looking back. You were much more comfortable by yourself, spending night after night alone while Jisung was out partying. Your shelf was full of books and fandom memorabilia while your brother’s shelf was covered in dust and toy robots from his youth he refused to get rid of. His GTA V poster covered the wall next to his bed while the only decoration in your room was the fairy lights and fake vines around the perimeter of your walls. These fundamental differences pushed you away from your brother, and after several years, you turned more into a punchline for Jisung to discussed jokingly with his friends while he was just the annoying older brother you’d wished would move out.

As much as you wanted to leave home and go to a prestigious college, your parents insisted you go to the same local college as Jisung for at least a year “just to try it out,” a.k.a they didn’t have enough money to send you away, which was reasonable. You and your brother, still under the same roof, fought to no end over the smallest things: loud music, messy bathroom, eating each other’s leftovers. Just about anything was fair game when the light-hearted hatred was so tense.

There was one bright side, though. Since Jisung entered Kindergarten, he was close to a boy named Changbin. You grew up with Changbin at your house, and even when your family moved 20 minutes away from him, he would always be there. There was nothing separating Jisung and Changbin.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the slightest crush on Changbin. While Jisung was only one year older than you, Changbin was two years older, and that initially intimidated you. His intimidating and off putting nature is what drew you in, but his glowing smile and gorgeous face only made you fall harder. You couldn’t explain your feelings for Changbin when you were in middle school, and even now, it was hard to describe the overwhelming nervousness that overcomes you when you’re in his vicinity. As high school went on, you knew you couldn’t be with him, but while you had your head in books throughout high school, Changbin was going to his college’s gym. His smile was one thing, and that was good for a middle school crush, but his insane arm and chest muscles send you through the moon in high school, and the image of Changbin shirtless at your neighborhood pool has been etched in your brain since your junior year of high school.

But now you’re in college. You’re a greasy little freshman while Changbin is a worn-out junior. There’s no way in hell you can shoot your shot, even if you’re both adults. And to make things even more impossible, Jisung would never allow his best friend to date his little sister. That would ruin him.

As improbable as it was, you still loved to fantasize about Changbin, spending most of your time alone daydreaming about his sculpted body above yours, praising you and making you feel like the only girl in the world.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

“Sis, could you put on some actual clothes, jeez.” Jisung covered his eyes dramatically as you entered the kitchen in your very appropriate shorts and tee shirt. You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him, punching him in the shoulder lightly.

“Changbin’s been coming over for how long? It’s fine.” Your response sounded steady, but your mind was buzzing. You didn’t know Changbin was coming over! Why are you never told about these things?! At this point, you should have assumed given it was a Friday night, but you’d still like some warning.

“Just because he’s used to it doesn’t mean he should be subjected to it!” Jisung went into the living room, arguing with you under his breath. Another stupid mini-fight for a stupid reason.

If anything, the information that Changbin was coming over would have only prompted you further to wear shorts and a thin tee shirt with no bra. As shy as you usually were, you still had the inexplicable want to be noticed by Changbin, even for a moment. Unfortunately, your brother adamantly tried to hide you from his friend, probably knowing Changbin always gets what he wants.

Jisung always babied you infront of Changbin, so you usually just stay in your room to protect yourself, and you’re sure Jisung would prefer that. Your parents worked late nights attempting to pay for their children’s college tuition, so when they came home well after midnight, they’d go straight to bed, uncaring for their adult children’s wearabouts. This gave Jisung the perfect opportunity to be as loud as he wanted in the living room, whether it was with a girl or one of his friends.

Tonight was going to be one of those loud nights, but that was nothing new. You always had a surefire way to fall asleep, regardless of the chatter going on downstairs.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

It was midnight. Why was he still here? You wanted to sleep more than anything, but the ruckus of your brother and his best friend chatting loudly downstairs prevented you from getting any sort of shuteye.

However, the only thing that can help you sleep is Changbin, or at least the thought of him. You reached to your bedside drawer and pulled out your bullet vibrator. If anything was going to help you sleep, it was an orgasm while imagining Changbin railing you like you’ve always wanted him to do since high school.

Although you hated to admit it, your thoughts of Changbin had been drifting towards the smuttier side since those days at the pool. All you could think about to get yourself off was Changbin, and no amount of other casual romantic partners could satiate your burning desire for Seo Changbin to fuck you on every surface in the house, including in your brother’s room while he was away. Every time you’d overhear Changbin talking about a new girl or his plentiful sex life, your face would flush red and you would wish that one day, he’d talk about you, but maybe not to Jisung. That would be too weird.

You undressed lazily, tossing your shirt and shorts onto the ground. You hesitated to take your underwear off, but there was no way you could properly get off with them on. Your panties joined the pile of clothes on the floor, and you spread your legs, tracing your fingers through your own heat, spreading your wetness across your holds. Your free hand eases the cold vibrator onto your clit, pressing the button at the top to turn it on. You bucked your hips into the toy, shutting your eyes and pretending that it’s Changbin holding it onto you, teasing you gently with every movement. His voice from downstairs echoed to your room, and the more you imagined his voice whispering the dirtiest sweet nothings into your ear, the closer you got to release.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

This was just supposed to be a fun little game of truth or dare, a common occurrence between Changbin and Jisung. Truth or dare was their way to let their feelings out and have a bit of fun. Before suggesting a movie, Jisung offered his friend one last truth or dare.

“Dare.” Changbin crosses his arms, waiting for Jisung to respond to his response.

After a moment, Jisung’s face contorted into a smile like that of the Grinch before he stole Christmas. Changbin knew nothing good could come from that expression, but nevertheless, he was interested in what awful, terrible, no good idea his friend had come up with.

“I dare you to go upstairs and scare my sister.”

“That’s it?” Changbin was beyond confused. He’d thought Jisung had come up with a dare so evil, so vile, so wicked, that only the devil himself could come up with it, but to be fair, Jisung could easily have been more sinful than the devil.

“That’s it!” Jisung clapped his hands together in seeming victory. “Sneak up those stairs, go to the second room on the right, barge in, and give my good little sister a good little scare.” Jisung wasn’t letting go of his smirk. He still looked sinister, even after explaining such a boring, and honestly disappointing, dare. Changbin sighed, shrugged, and stood up from his seat, but before he could turn around, Jisung had one last thing to say: “Don’t take too long up there! I want to finish this movie.”

Changbin rolled his eyes and trudged on, tip-toeing up the stairs so you didn’t even hear him coming. Jisung was vibrating with giddiness, but Changbin couldn’t see. All he saw was the door to your room, looking more menacing than ever before. It’s such a lighthearted prank, why was Changbin so scared now? He reached for the doorknob, turned it quietly, and pushed the door open as fast as possible.

His first scream was that of a shitty jump scare in a horror movie, but his second scream was that of terror with a high-pitched tone. Nothing could have prepared him to see you, his best friend’s sister, a freshman at the college he was a junior in, with a vibrator pressed against your nether region. You were totally naked aside from your shirt that was pushed up over your tits. The sight made his body go pale, and he felt his soul leave his body. He didn’t run away; he was just frozen, but you hardly would have noticed him if it hadn’t been for his stereotypically girly scream. You threw your duvet over yourself, wrapping yourself up like a burrito.

“What the fuck, Changbin?” You raised your voice slightly, hardly able to yell since your voice was hoarse from the orgasm you’d just been denied by the rude interruption. Changbin couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even think, let alone defend himself. He stood in your doorway, eyes blown out, hand practically glued to the door handle. Jisung’s manic laughing can be heard from downstairs, but both your mind and Changbin’s were too fuzzy to tune in, although your minds were fuzzy for differing reasons.

Changbin let go of the handle and shut the door behind him. You squirm under your blanket burrito, adjusting yourself and getting ready for an attack from Changbin, but he doesn’t come near you. His back hits the door, and he holds his chest where his heart is. Once he calms down for a moment, he’s finally ready to speak.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” He takes a step towards you, but you lean back, scared of what he’s going to do to you. “Jisung dared me to scare you, and I- I didn’t know you were up here… doing that. I-”

“Changbin,” you cut him off, “just get out.”

He doesn’t move. He collects his thoughts one last time and takes another step closer to your bed. “Did you finish?”

“Changbin!” Your vocal cords had healed since being hoarse just seconds ago, and you were finally able to fully raise your voice.

“I’m gonna go back downstairs, but when that movie’s over, text me.” Fuck, you forgot you had his number. “I want to make it up to you.”

You’re beyond hesitant, but after a minute, you nod, and Changbin leaves your room without a word.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

An hour passes, and you reach over to your nightstand and grab your phone. Your messenger app stays open on the window with the empty text screen under Changbin’s contact. Ow, this is hurting your brain to think about. How could you ever get over yourself for fucking your brother’s friend, let alone the friend that’s watched you grow up. This was a mistake. Turn back now. Don’t text him, don’t text him, don’t text him.

Fuck it.

Your fingers fluttered over the screen, repeatedly typing and deleting the same message until it was perfect.

Is the movie over?

The ellipsis text bubble appears in the corner and your heart drops. You know your face is bright red, but you can’t help be excited while simultaneously feeling terrified.

The movie ended 10 minutes ago. You ready for me, princess?

No no no no no no no no

Ready when you are ;)

Oh my god oh my god oh my god

Come out to my car. I want to take you to my apartment so your brother can’t hear us.

No turning back now.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #skz changbin smut #stray kids changbin smut #kpop smut

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jaeminzie · 4 years ago

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better than words | l.dh

↳ lee haechan x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: finally taking his friends’ advice, the not-so-cunning donghyuck finds a way to show his profound feelings toward his respectfully patient herbology partner.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,226

a/n: lawd it’s been a while since i’ve posted a fic but here it is ! a week delayed from valentine’s but let’s just pretend it’s the 14th :,]

‘better than words’ by one direction

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

like most hufflepuffs, you have a natural interest and talent with every living thing, including plants. herbology is one of the classes that you excell at and enjoy doing. though, the hufflepuff class had to deal with the subject with none other than the slytherins.

students walked into the greenhouse chatting, but soon became quiet once professor sprout called out for your attention, “everyone! in celebration of valentine’s day, i came up with the brilliant idea of hosting a contest! the objective is to successfully cast the herbivicus charm on a rose. this charm is used to rapidly grow whatever plant you desire.” everyone looked at each other warily, completely uninterested in some gardening spell. “since this spell needs precise movements, you will need a partner to help guide you.”

immediately, students began making eye contact with their preferred partners. lee donghyuck turned his head slightly toward your body standing next to him and nibbled his bottom lip. your relationship with donghyuck was rather interesting. being seatmates in this class, you choose to be kind and offer help whenever you see him struggling which would usually not be accepted by the boy. you believed his attitude was because of professor sprout moving him all the way at the front of the class next to you in punishment of being the initiator of constant disruption with his friends stood at the back. you didn’t mind the silence though. but in reality, donghyuck wasn’t sure how to talk to you without being too straightforward as he’s been told many times that he is slightly too shameless. he was afraid to say or do anything that could potentially hurt your feelings when he’d had no intention in doing so.

“to make it easier for everyone, your partner will be the person standing next to you.” professor sprout said her ‘good luck’s’ before dismissing us to work on the assignment. “whoever perfects the charm first wins.” she smiles before heading toward her desk covered in plant roots in the corner.

taking a deep breath before turning to the boy, you greeted him — to which he replied with a simple nod and pursed lips while avoiding eye contact. you cleared your throat at the awkwardness prior to politely asking, “do you want to be the one monitoring me or casting the charm?”

“i’ll cast it.” he grabbed the book placed in front of you and began flipping through the pages loudly. he began examining the words on the brown paper and clicked his tongue, “this will be easy.”

you let out a small laugh, “it looks pretty complicated.” you skimmed through the lines along with him, leaning forward closely in order to see clearly. donghyuck leaned back slightly when he noticed the close distance between your faces. the boy’s heart raced the moment he felt your hair brush against his right cheek. he wanted so badly to slap himself for not being able to contain his feelings.

he crossed his arms, tongue poking the inside of his right cheek in an attempt to not smile, “are you saying i can’t do it?”

“of course not, just be realistic.” your smile faltered when the once-gone awkwardness made its return when the last portion of your sentence came out instinctively. “oh, um, that didn’t come out well. just- i just mean that-”

“don’t.” he said blankly while you slightly pouted at his words since you’ve already failed to maintain a decent conversation barely five minutes in.

you bit your tongue at his response and forced yourself to move on since you wanted nothing more than to disappear from this situation. donghyuck rolled up the sleeves of his oversized green robe the best he could before waving his wand experimentally. “it says to-”

he cuts you off, “i don’t need assistance.” the tiniest quiver of your bottom lip caught his attention before it was directed toward his friends who were making obnoxious kissy faces toward your two distanced bodies. he glared at them before tilting his head slightly when he noticed your hunched figure standing timidly, starting to feel the regret in his unnecessary words. donghyuck cleared his throat and began to follow the instructions written in the book.

you carefully watched donghyuck’s wand, mentally taking notes on the movements. his long fingers delicately held his wooden wand that fits perfectly in his grip and moved it with such grace, creating imaginary loops and curves just how the book had described. “herbivicus.” he breathlessly spoke when he was finishing up the wand movements.

he proved his previous statement when the rose sprout began to flourish steadily. donghyuck turned, unintentionally making his shoulder hit your arm, and walked toward professor sprout. observing from afar, you see the professor’s face brighten when he was done speaking politely with his hands put behind his back. donghyuck nodded before turning to walk back toward your shared working table. gathering enough courage when he got close to you, you asked, “what did she say?”

he walked past you and began tending more flowers planted on the dirt tray behind you without saying a word. at this point, your patience was crippling. “are you just gonna ignore me?”

without even turning his head to face you, he shook his head at your question. “then answer me verbally.”

donghyuck physically melted as his knees felt weaker when hearing your fragile tone trying to be assertive. he moved his wand quicker, trying not to prolong the silence between the two of you. once the wide variety of flowers were fully grown in front of him, he attached them together with a ribbon before taking a deep breath. he’s been told by his friends that actions speak louder than words when asking for advice on courting a person he has interest in. lots of interest. he used to always scoff whenever they’d say that, but his desperation grew over time of not being able to initiate a proper conversation.

donghyuck felt stupid for doing this which was evidently shown through his red face and sweaty palms. he straightened his back and held the flowers with both hands, placing them in front of him.

he turned around to face you teary-eyed, the tears were threatening to spill at any moment. donghyuck’s shoulders and face dropped upon hearing your tiny voice, “why don’t you like me? did i ever offend you? or do i just annoy you?” donghyuck muttered curse words at himself for making you think this way. he placed the flowers on the table by his side and hesitantly hovered his hands over your shoulders, testing the limits. when you didn’t flinch away, he softly rested them on your shoulders, brushing his thumb against the soft fabric of your yellow robe.

“no. . . to all of those.” seeing your flushed cheeks and nose made him want nothing more than to caress your cheeks. he looked around the class and made sure no one could see him pull you two toward the exit located right next to your working station, making sure to bring the flowers and placing them behind his back.

you yelp when donghyuck gently placed you against the brick wall, his hands barely had any grip on your robe like he was afraid to cause any further damage. your breath hitched when he dropped his hands into his pockets and looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. “i’m sorry.”

you furrowed an eyebrow, not knowing how to react at this moment.

“i have a feeling i haven’t been the nicest to you.” he nibbled on his lip while you tried not to chuckle at his statement. “um, it’s stupid but i’m always cautious not to behave a certain way that’ll hurt you by. . . not talking to you at all or cutting our conversations as short as possible.”

he groaned and let his head fall back as he realized how childish and inconsiderate his actions were. your facial features softened as he faced you again with a coy smile. “forgive me, i swear i don’t not like you.”

he laughed breathlessly, “it’s quite the opposite actually.” the now pink-tinted boy’s right hand ran through his hair repeatedly before placing it on the wall behind you. “i’m really sorry.”

you blinked at him. “it’s okay. thank you for explaining, actually.” you cleared your throat. “i’m just glad you don’t hate me or something.”

“so, how would you feel about me liking you?” his once shy smile is now gone and has been replaced with a sly smirk. you were taken back from the sudden change of confidence from the boy.

you shrieked under his strong gaze as he stepped closer to your figure. “oh, i- um. i, i wouldn’t be. . . opposed.” his smirk grew bigger at your answer.

donghyuck took his hand off the walk and stepped back slightly and placed his left hand in front of his chest, showing the bundle of flowers he had tended for you. he stood there holding the bundle of the prettiest flower he chose himself with his still-sweaty palms, and smiling softly causing his still-pink cheeks to round. donghyuck surely held his composure quite well with his smooth comments and actions but the red tinted ears of his were clear even under the dimly lit walkway, giving his nervousness away. “this was what i was doing when you were talking to me.”

he scratched his head with his free hand, “sorry, i was fully immersed. y’know, concentrating.”

you nodded slowly at him. “got it.” you spoke slowly while eyeing the flowers in his hands.

donghyuck giggled at your state, all flustered and not knowing what to say. he could definitely get used to this view. “would you be opposed to going out to hogsmeade with me?” his hand went back onto the wall and his face leaned very closely to yours. “my treat.” a smile slowly made an appearance on his godly face.

you were baffled. just ten minutes ago, you were one second away from crying in the middle of class because of the same guy who’s making your heart flutter in a way that you’ve never experienced before. the same guy who wouldn’t even speak a proper grammatically complete sentence to you prior to the past couple minutes.

he quirked an eyebrow as he patiently waited for your response. taking a deep breath, you seriously had nothing to lose. “no, i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” donghyuck smiled at how you can finally speak a full sentence without taking any pauses or stumbling upon your words.

once again, he pushed himself off the wall to grab your hand and arranged them so that you were now holding the flowers. you felt a wave of heat rush onto your cheeks and you tried to hide by keeping your focus on the colorful array of petals, allowing your head to stay low.

this obviously didn’t satisfy donghyuck since he wanted to stare at your flustered state all day. his pointer finger rested under your chin and pushed your head up to force you into maintaining the intense eye contact. pretty. he thought. your eyes were still shiny, and face even redder. donghyuck smiled at the up-close view of the face he had to restrain himself from staring at for too long in the past. savoring this moment, he examined your face slowly. taking all the time he needed and did not need, he continued to stare at the way your mouth fell slightly open, counting the seconds you could last without blinking your eyes and holding your breath when he stood so near you.

his brown, yet bright, eyes looked back at yours, he spoke softly, “good. i’ll wait for you outside your common room right before the sun sets tomorrow.”

you let out a breathy laugh at the vague description. “and what time is that?”

“anytime you’re ready.” his warm breath hits your hot cheeks, making your smile falter. donghyuck notices his effect on you and keeps that in mind for future purposes that you’ll soon loathe him for. “just don’t keep me waiting for too long. i’m already excited to be with you.” donghyuck smiled at the double meaning of his own sentence, feeling proud of himself for finally making a move and smiling at the sweet thought of his friends no longer pestering him to talk to you nor poking fun at him for being a bit of a coward.

the boy had to force himself to step away, but his gaze was still set on you. “i’ll see you tomorrow. anticipate it for me.” you blinked and nodded at his order while he winked at you before he made room for you to move past him and walk back toward the greenhouse.

donghyuck pushed open the door for you to enter and was automatically greeted with wide smiles from his friends still standing at the back of the room, silently cheering for their friend. he shyly smiled back quickly before retreating his attention back to you. he noticed how you caressed the soft flowers in your hand with such adoration and a smile on your face that will never seem to leave — he wished to do the same to you. and he had a strong gut feeling that his wish would soon be granted.

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blutopaz15 · 3 years ago

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Flufftober Oct. 1

Winning a Prize for the Other

Hi friends! I've been badly needing some writing inspiration, so I think I'm going to make an effort to do some @flufftober2021 prompts! Some of the other things I've been working on have been getting a little heavy, so...what a good excuse for some sweet, sweet Rayllum fluff!

NOTES: modern au rayllum + ez at a renaissance faire, 1.3k word, rated g

ao3 link

“--so all I’m saying is I’m pretty sure this is supposed to be a toad, not a frog. I mean, have you ever seen a frog this grumpy looking? Toads on the other hand--” Ezran chatted on happily, despite Rayla’s inattention. He turned the bright yellow stuffed animal towards her once more, showcasing--then mimicking--its definite frown. “Rayla?”

“Sorry, Ez,” Rayla sighed, glaring at the corner that Callum had disappeared around, then glancing down at her phone.

He’d been gone thirty whole minutes, and the more time passed, the more impossible it felt to stop looking for him...and it wasn’t just the hunger pangs that’d kicked into gear.

She opened their messages again, and tapped out the text she’d held off on sending.

Where’d you go?

She’d been scanning the crowd, looking for Callum--and their lunch--every few minutes all along. It didn’t help that every so often some other boy in blue or with messy brown hair or even once with a red loop around his neck would come down the dirt path. Her breath kept catching, hoping it was Callum...and then she’d deflate each time when it turned out not to be her dork in his prince-(but-like-not-obnoxious)-turned-mage get-up.

Rayla returned her phone back to the pouch sewn into the holster at her back and her attention back to Ez and the much-loved prize she’d won for him when they’d first gotten to the Faire this morning.

“You’re probably right,” she said, fidgeting with the tape that held her pinky finger to her fourth, regretting how the distraction of looking for Callum kept making her inadvertently ignore Ez. “A toad for sure.”

“A glow toad, I think,” he commented, holding it up for her consideration again, “named Bait.”

“That...sounds made up,” she teased. Really, she was only mostly sure that a glow toad was a species from Ezran’s imagination rather than from the near-encyclopedia of animals she knew he had in his head.

“Well, yeah,” he said, serving her sass right back and gesturing to the gold crown Callum had spray-painted for him last night. “Every king needs a magical animal companion, obviously. He even had a stint as my regent, but it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah?” Rayla’s focus drifted again, her eyes pulled back to the path she kept expecting to see Callum on.

“Mmhmm,” Ezran nodded. “He--”

The fairgrounds weren’t that busy, she thought, itching to check her phone again despite not having felt it buzz against her back, but...maybe they should’ve all gone to get lunch instead of letting clumsy Callum try to manage food for three. Maybe he needed a hand?

“I’m sorry, Ez,” she interrupted, too distracted by picturing Callum and their lunch dumped all over the walkway. “You good here if I go find your brother?”

Ezran agreed--with a groan and a remark about sandwiches that she didn’t think was all that related to lunch at a Renaissance Faire--and she followed the path Callum had taken on his quest to find them all some food.

Rayla made herself pass quickly by the booth that Ez and Callum had nervously accompanied her into so she could buy her pair of props: two blades that fit just right with the elven assassin costume she’d spent all summer saving for and piecing together.

She then happily sped past the creepy, dark shack that seemed to sell replicas--she hoped they were replicas, at least--of random animals and parts of animals in jars. On her way by, she tugged the headband holding her horns--that looked an awful lot like ones the shack had on display--back into place and pushed platinum blonde hair back behind the pointy-ear prosthetics that were starting to itch.

Rayla slowed, though, when she came to the vendors where Callum had lingered earlier, not putting it past him to get so caught up in googly-eyed amazement again that he’d forgotten all about lunch. It definitely wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d spent the past half hour thumbing through old-looking books that his bedroom didn’t have space for, or poking at weird amulets and pretty-looking stones.

But...no Callum.

She was practically back at the entrance to the fairground by the time she found him--looking somehow both determined and demoralized--back at the carnival game she’d won Ezran’s Bait from earlier.

Rayla waited to speak until he’d thrown the last dart in his hands.

“You know the food’s that way, right?”

He startled like she’d thought he might, shoulders bolting upward, and sighed as he turned to her, following her gaze down the path they hadn’t yet taken before slumping over.

“Yeah...I know.” He sounded exasperated, but the dejected look on his face cleared a little when she came closer, leaning her hip against the counter of the wooden booth.

“Well,” Rayla said, drawing out the word and tilting towards him, “we’re starting to get a little hangry back there.”

Callum’s barely-there smile twitched a little wider. “Sorry,” he said, shrugging and pushing the handful of change he’d dug out of his pack across the counter. “Got...distracted.”

“By darts?” She asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter now, eyebrow raised. The attendant exchanged the money on the counter for another three green-handled darts.

“You said you liked him.” Callum looked up--above the colorful balloons he’d apparently spent the last half hour trying to pop--at the blue stuffed dragon she’d said was cute when they’d stopped at the booth the first time. “And it looked so easy when you did it earlier, so I thought I’d surprise you with a cute baby dragon when I brought the food back, but…” Callum trailed off, looking down.

She reached for his hand, her taped-together fingers settling awkwardly at the side of his.

“How very noble of you, your highness.” She tugged on his scarf, pleased by how her teasing had made his eyes roll and his smile brighten again. “Want some help?”

Callum sighed again, picking up the darts and offering them to her.

Shaking her head, she untangled her hand from his, but only took one of the three.

“Which one do we have to pop?” she asked, turning slightly to the side and lifting the dart to eye level.

“The one that’s all glowy,” he answered, pointing up at the iridescent balloon near the top of the board.

“Watch.”

She took aim for the one just below the single, solitary dragon-winning target.

Pop.

A wave of satisfaction fluttered in her chest when she let loose the well-aimed dart and then immediately turned, a hand on her hip, to see Callum looking at her so attentively, eyes wide and head cocked to the side.

“Your turn, mage,” she smiled.

Callum lifted the dart to eye-level--just the way she had--but she cut him off before he could throw his second-to-last dart.

“Hang on.” Rayla stepped closer to gently press his shoulder to the side, encouraging him to split his stance the way she had.

His eyes followed when he turned and then his lips were right there, just inches from hers. It was nothing to drift closer and kiss him softly, her hand trailing away down his arm.

“For luck,” she explained, squeezing his elbow before stepping to the side.

Callum, a little more smiley and a lot more red-faced than before, nodded, seemingly having recaptured his sense of determination. He took aim, and…

Thud.

Missed.

But...it was close.

“You should probably just do the last one,” he grumbled, looking down at the last dart in his hand before holding it out to her. “I can’t do it.”

“You can, Callum.” She shook her head and closed his fingers back around the dart. “Just...breathe. I believe in you.”

Callum listened. He sucked in a breath as he pulled back the last dart, then exhaled, and...

Pop.

#rayllum #fanfic #rayllum fanfic #flufftober2021 #fluff #what a shock #me finding an excuse to write fluff #i kind of want to write more ridiculous rayllum at ren faire shenanigans lol #rayla #callum #the dragon prince

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shoutogepi · 5 years ago

Text

Orange Lamborghini

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 6.3k

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : lil toucha ass play, car sex, baku being a damn tease

bio : You keep telling yourself you’re done with Bakugou, but the last time is never really the last time, is it?

author’s note : i know i said i was gonna post a tamaki fic but it’s a certain violent blonde’s birthday tomorrow!! (happy 4/20 ayy) so here you go ;) … also this is a part two to my other baku fic, “fuck you i just might”, but you don’t have to read that one before this if you don’t wanna!

side note : Y/H/N is your hero name, and reader is a pro hero working at the same agency as Bakugou. ALSO he smells like caramel bc of his quirk, dont fight me on this >:(

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“🅂taying late again?” Reo, the owner of the coffee cart stationed in the lobby of the hero agency, quizzes as he throws you an accusatory look.

You stand before him, hand awkwardly looped around your elbow and a small, bashful smile on your lips. He totally knows. But you appreciate that he never outright says anything, and you know for a fact that he would never peep even a whisper to anyone. You are probably his most loyal customer, and you’d like to think he considers you a friend after all this time— not to mention, all the coffee you’ve purchased from him.

Reo gauges your meek expression, and he only smiles as he pours the creamer into the dark brown liquid. “They must be working you hard… I’ve never seen a top hero work such long hours, staying even after everyone else has left. Well, almost everyone, that is.”

Yeah, he most certainly knows.

“What can I say?” You blabber, perhaps answering him a bit too quickly. “Work is my whole life. I don’t have time for anything else, I guess.” The sentiment is a little awkward but full of candor, and when the words leave your lips you’re surprised to hear them carry such a solemn tone.

The man nods in understanding, handing you your cup of coffee before he grabs a cookie from the glass display case and offers it to you as well. “On the house,” he states and you share a long showdown of a gaze with him before you reluctantly pluck the treat from his outreached tongs.

“Thanks Reo, you have a good night now.” Bowing slightly to the elder, you turn and take your leave, quiet steps echoing in the otherwise empty foyer.

Just as the elevator doors open to take you back up into the higher levels of the building, Reo calls out to you. “You know, you should find someone that’s just as hardworking as you. Maybe they’re closer than you think.”

Flustered by the old man’s advice, you only nod and bow again, jamming your thumb into the button. A sigh of relief escapes you as the doors conceal you from his prying eyes. That man has a sixth sense, you swear.

The elevator doors open and you briskly walk through them, along the corridor and around the corner before you finally reach the conference room. Taking a deep breath, you slip through the doorway, eyes trained on the table half-covered in paperwork. Bakugou is sitting behind the spread out files, his red eyes jumping up to regard your approaching form. Placing the cookie wrapped in napkin on the table, you nod at him as you turn and open a cabinet, fingers pinching a fresh manilla folder and shutting the door with a bump from your hip.

“Working late, huh?” His rough voice splits the silence hanging in the air, and when you turn to look at the blonde, he’s lounged back, corded bicep hung carelessly over the back of the chair and a cocky look on his face. But his eyes hold another emotion as they give you a once-over, one that makes your insides stir in both memory and apprehension.

You nod again, a coy smile gracing your lips as you take a sip of your coffee, your own gaze lingering on the muscles that poke out from the hem of his tight tank top. “You too?” You ask, even though the answer is obvious.

Bakugou’s hand twirls the pen he was previously using in rapid, effortless circles, and his knee bounces slowly underneath the table. “You gonna eat that?” He answers your question with his own, slanted eyes flicking towards the cookie resting on the tabletop just an arm’s length away from him.

“You want it?” You can’t help but be surprised— you always expected Bakugou to be an uppity-ass, no-junk-food kind of guy.

“It’s Reo’s, right?” The blonde replies gruffly, thick fingers reaching out to grab the confection. “Shit tastes like heaven.”

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. Why, that sly little…

“Don’t work yourself too hard,” you chirp out as you turn on your heel, ready to retreat back to the safety of your office.

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes return back to your departing figure, a thin brow raised and a snarl of a smirk splitting his lips. “Aw, ‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Princess?”

“Fuck you,” it flows from your mouth, years of foul-mouthing built up into a knee-jerk reaction. Your eyes widen as his turn to slits, that stupid smirk morphing into a gleaming grin.

“Don’t tempt me.”

A wave of heat washes over you from head to toe before settling between your legs. You don’t bother to stick around, your feet carrying you out of the conference room as Bakugou’s harsh laughter trails behind you, echoing down the hallway.

Closing the door to your office behind you, you lean your back against it as you slide toward the floor, shutting your eyes tight as the memory washes over you. He’d taken you— right there on the desk you’re supposed to be working at— and ugh, it was fucking good. Shit, he was good. Dropping the folder on the floor your fingers fly to your temple, rubbing your skull in a useless attempt to push the memory away.

Alright, if you’re being honest… that was just the first time. There were, well, a handful of times following the initial incident, much to your now chagrin. There was that time in his office on the other side of the building that had a perfect view of the ocean, which you had become very familiar with while your face was pressed up against the glass and he ravaged you from behind. There was also that time when it was around this time of night and he had thrown all your paperwork off of the conference table and taken you right there, pounding into you like no tomorrow. Yeah, there were a few times you’d found yourself naked before him, pussy gripping his thick cock as your lips clashed with his.

But last time was the last time. You can’t just keep fucking him like this, all over the agency in such scandalous secrecy… the two of you hiding this gruesomely passionate beast you co-own, feeding it only once the the coast is clear and, oh, he feeds it so well… every meal a juicy, fat steak dripping with desire and euphoria, encasing your senses in a silky smooth film as his calloused hands glide all over your— No!

You shake your head abruptly, derailing your sinful train of thought. You agreed that last time was it, fin. And… the time before that, too… and maybe the one before then as well— well, it doesn’t matter because last time was actually the last time. Pulling yourself together, you make your way toward your desk and begrudgingly begin your work.

By the time the folder is full, the clock indicates that tomorrow has begun and thus, it’s time for you to go home. Without a glance towards the conference room, you make your way toward the elevator, letting out a long sigh as the weight of the day slips from your shoulders. Jabbing your thumb into the button, you lean against the railing and check your phone out of habit. Two new messages from Jirou pique your interest, and you eagerly open the chat log to see what she’d sent.

Jiji 🎸: Girls meeting at the usual tmrw night!! Hope you can make it :)

Jiji 🎸: We all miss ya girly, you’ve been working too much lately ❤️

A part of you feels bad for misleading your friends. It’s not that you aren’t working late these days… it’s that your workload is not the only thing you’re doing when you stay after hours at the agency. Your friends had started to notice all the late nights you’d been spending at your job, and they’d begun to pout when you would bail on their bar-nights. They understood that you were working, and you hoped that they didn’t harbor any further suspicions. You had not told a single soul about your rendezvous with Bakugou Katsuki— the only person who seemed to have an inkling of your relationship, if you could call it that, was Reo.

Sliding your phone into your bag, you decide to try to make it tomorrow night. The last time had been the last time with Bakugou, so you would definitely be free tomorrow night, especially after finishing up the paperwork you had just completed minutes prior. With a wave of determination washing over you, a small smile appears on your lips as you fiddle with your staff key-card absentmindedly, wondering what you should wear when tomorrow night comes around.

When the elevator dings and opens its doors, your feet take you out of the steel chamber and into the cement confines of the parking garage. At this time of night, the only way in and out of the building is through the parking garage gate, seeing as the custodians lock up the front doors long before midnight. But you don’t mind, because the night air is fresh and cool on your face, and the subway is only a three minute walk from the garage exit. Just before you can reach out to tap your key against the automatic gate, an ear-splitting screech roars behind you and you jump, shooting straight up into the air.

Whipping around, headlights nearly blind you as they point right into your eyes. Squinting at the obnoxious light, your vision widens again when you recognize the outline of a sleek and shiny Lamborghini. An orange Lamborghini, to be precise. And a license plate with “G-ZER0” unmistakably tacked onto the front bumper, which sits almost flush against the smooth cement floor.

“Oi, Y/H/N,” a blonde head pokes out from the driver’s window, narrowed red eyes glaring at you. But his lips are curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying your frightened-animal-like reaction to the startling revv of his engine. “You’re blockin’ the way.”

Your hands indignantly turn into fists at your hips, a frown and a furrowed brow marring your expression as you turn around. Smacking the key card against the scanner you strut directly in the middle of the pavement for as long as you can before the road widens. Once the car can easily fit on either side of you, you move over to the sidewalk, arms crossed over your chest as the low car matches your pace, engine purring loudly.

The window next to you rolls down soundlessly, and the blonde leans slightly over his console to crane his face up in order to see yours. “Where are you goin’?” Bakugou inquires, and you can feel his intense gaze on the side of your face but you do not turn to acknowledge him.

“Subway.” You reply shortly, eyes trained straight ahead of you. Three minutes until you reach the subway station, exactly two corners and two blocks away.

The car roars as the angry blonde hits the pedals again, exhaust crackling with a ferocity similar to a big cat’s. The sound is deafening but you don’t waver, feet placing calmly in front of one another. “At this hour?” He pauses for a moment, long enough for you to let your guard down and chance a look at him. Which is a mistake, because goddamn he looks sexy as hell sitting in that exorbitant car, one hand thrown atop the wheel with his bicep on display, the other arm perched atop the console between the seats and those vermillion eyes blazing into you. It’s only a mere second that you give him, but he knows your resolve flutters as you look away quickly, your pace increasing to make him press on the gas just a hair harder to keep up with you.

Your breath catches in your throat when he speaks again, your heart pummeling your ribcage with vigor and a claminess lining your palms.

“Get in.”

It’s neither a question nor a statement— it’s a demand. One that has heat rising between your legs, the embers that had been so surely extinguished suddenly igniting furiously with but a scrap of sustenance. You grit your teeth and keep walking, determined not to get in the car. If you get in that car… you don’t know where you’ll end up. Or, you do know where you might end up, and that would be very bad. It takes a lot of your willpower to spit out a simple, “No thanks.”

Bakugou grumbles at your stubbornness, the vehicle screeching again as he demonstrates his displeasure and the unnecessary horsepower underneath his hood. “Come on, Y/N. Just get in,” he presses, his voice not as harsh as it was just a moment ago.

But you hold your own, flipping a stray lock of hair over your shoulder. “Aw,” you smirk, humoring him for a millisecond as your eyes flick over to him, “‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Boom-Boy?” Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he visibly bristles in the corner of your eye.

“Damn it, I’m trying ‘ta— tch,” Bakugou grumbles and cuts himself off before he apparently decides he’s not going to play the familiar game of cat and mouse with you, “Fuck this.” Tires squealing on the rubble, the sleek car leaves you in the dust, sharply turning the corner ahead of you before disappearing into the night, the noise of the thundering engine echoing through the tall cityscape.

You glare at the corner ahead of you, unimpressed. He was trying to— to what, put you in a pissy mood? Hell of a job he did, if that was the case. Frown sinking into your cheeks deeper than before, you continue your way to the subway station while you pull your phone out to distract you from your miffed thoughts. Turning around the very same corner the orange sports car had rounded just a minute ago, you nearly drop your belongings when a pair of rough hands grip your biceps.

Relief washes over you for a moment when you meet Bakugou's irritated expression, before horror spreads through your limbs as he shoves you into his open passenger door. Without much of a fight you’re inside the vehicle, fruitlessly yanking the door handle only to find it’s locked shut. Sliding back into the luxurious leather seat, you scowl at the hero as he slams his door closed and snags the black seatbelt over his torso. “The fuck, Bakugou?” You hiss, attempting the door again to no avail.

“Hey, easy with that!” He growls, a thick finger flicking the pedal shifter into drive and slapping his boot against the gas. His eyes meet yours as a wicked grin lifts his lips. “Buckle up, Princess.”

Your head smacks against the back of the seat as the car lurches into a velocity that no doubt exceeds the speed-limit. Your hands scramble over your shoulder and you frantically grab the metal clip, unceremoniously shoving the belt across your lap to find its destination. Once the joint clicks into place, your eyes fly to the man beside you, pure rage boiling underneath your skin. “You asshole! I’m gonna rip your dick off!” You yell, the slightly ajar windows letting air zip into the cabin and howl in your ears, your hair flying around your face.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he quips dryly, voice deep but holding an infuriatingly potent tone of amusement.

You shut up at that, heat rising to your cheeks as you look out the window defiantly, away from him. Your eyes trail over the interior of the car, curiosity winning you over as you your fingers trace the smooth features lining the inside of the door. There’s a soft underlighting beneath the seats, glowing an acidic green to compliment the orange of the exterior in a display that screams man with an enormous ego. You roll your eyes, adjusting your legs to point away from him as much as possible.

“I didn’t know you had a Lamborghini. This how you get into your slutty fangirls’ pants? Take ‘em for a ride in the Baku-bile?” You ask, shooting daggers into his sharp jawline. The premise of him fucking faceless girls in the very seat you’re in makes you want to throw up in disgust.

Bakugou snorts at the name, scarlet eyes snapping toward you before settling back on the road. “Don’t need to show ‘em my car to take ‘em for a ride,” he answers snidely, a sharp canine gleaming at you from his smirk.

You don’t acknowledge his reply, one arm crossed over your chest and the other gripping the side of the door harshly as the city flies by outside the windows. You wonder where he’s taking you, because he never asked for your address, but you sure as hell aren’t going to start up a conversation again with that dickwad, so you just simmer in your displeasure instead.

The ride is surprisingly smooth and you would never admit it, but the feeling of him stepping on the acceleration makes your heart thud, adrenaline coursing through your veins and washing over you. You try your best to hide your excitement with every boost of speed, but you don’t catch Bakugou’s eyes lingering on your tiny smile every time he accelerates. You almost whine when the car slows and you pull into an empty parking lot, apprehension settling in your chest as the engine cuts and you’re left in silence, with him. A public park stretches before the lot, empty swings and monkey-bars twirling leisurely in the wind.

He doesn’t say a word, so after an incredibly long and awkward minute you break the ice. “Bakugou… what are we doing here?” You turn to him expectantly, lips melting back into a frown as you give him a once-over. He’s still in that tank top, which you curse for being a part of his hero costume. Why the hell did he have to choose something so flattering?

The blonde casts a side glance at you, leaning back slightly in his seat. “Wanted to have a chat with ‘ya,” he says, turning to look at you fully. The car seems like it is not big enough, for he’s only a short distance away from you and looking handsome as ever. The park before the windshield is illuminated by only the moon and starlight, casting a soft glow onto his smooth skin. The stubble on his jaw scatters tiny shadows across his chin, and those scarlet eyes peer into yours deeply. The moment is full of unrestrained tension, until he speaks again. “Coulda done this in the garage but your stubborn ass wouldn’t gimme the time of day,” he grumbles, effectively releasing you from his trance.

You blink and look away before returning your attention to him, a sour expression on your face. “Okay, dipshit, what did you wanna talk about?” You huff, arms crossing over your chest defensively. So you might have gotten yourself into this, but only a tiny bit.

You’re left hanging, expectantly eyeing him with a measured gaze. His eyes are locked with yours, but his mouth doesn’t move, not a semblance of a word on his lips. You give him that ‘eyes widening and head jutting forward, I’m waiting for you to talk’ look, but still he’s quiet. Tossing your hair over your shoulder impatiently, you let out a frustrated sigh as you close your eyes. “Look,” you start, turning back to him ready to flame his ass, “I don’t—”

Bakugou’s lips are on yours, his hands clutching your jaw and pushing your mouth into his while he leans forward over the console between the seats. A moan tears from your lungs, the familiar scent of caramel crashing over you as he fills up your senses, fingertips weaving into the hair behind your ears. His tongue thrusts into your mouth, greeting yours like a lover desperate to hold his beloved, caressing and rolling and dancing.

Suddenly your hands are on him, one around his back and pressing him toward you while the other threads through his silky soft tresses. A groan rumbles out of him as you pull against his scalp, one of his hands slipping down the back of your head to hold where your neck meets your shoulders, squeezing the sides of your throat gently. An embarrassing mewl floats out of you at that, a string of saliva connecting your mouths as you both gasp for breath.

His red eyes twinkle at you mockingly, a sultry snarl on his lips. But Bakugou doesn’t dare say a word, instead claiming your lips again with his own, sucking in your bottom lip and biting gently with his pointy canines. The hand on your neck remains strong, while his other hand slithers down your chest, groping your breast with enthusiasm and his thumb roving over your already-hard nipple, which he can feel through the fabric of your skin-tight hero costume and bra. He moans at the discovery, fingers eagerly flying to your side and unraveling the zipper there, watching as the skin of your exposed chest becomes illuminated in a mixture of moonlight and the green glow emanating from beneath the seats. Tugging the wire to rest atop your tits, he nearly growls at the sight of them, diving face-first toward you and wrapping his mouth around a nipple. You buck into him, falling back uncomfortably onto the door, but he just crawls onto his seat and leans further into you, red eyes darting up to catch your wanton expression.

Desperately gripping at the shreds of your sanity, a tiny part of you screams out at the wrongness of the situation. “We shouldn't… fuck, Bakug— ohhh,” you whimper as he nibbles at you, your heart rate skyrocketing in desire as you close your eyes, trapping your trembling lip between your teeth. The rationale is pushed away, the only thing you can pay attention to being the way Bakugou’s mouth feels latched onto you, and the hand traveling down your torso to tease between your legs. His rough fingers prod at your cunt through your leotard, expertly locating your clit through the cloth and focusing extra attention there. Simmering tendrils of heat burst through you and you cry out, legs weakly drawing his wide frame closer to you.

After a moment Bakugou sits back in his seat, pulling you with him. It’s a little rocky, not a perfect transition, but you make your way to sit on his lap nonetheless. His large hands palm your tits roughly, pinching your nipples as his tongue wrestles with yours, your moans leaking into his mouth. His body jerks in surprise as your hips begin to roll against his, and you can feel just how bad he wants this too, rubbing into you against your thigh. It only makes him touch you harder, leaning down slightly and becoming lost in the heated kiss. A hand trails down your waist to grab a handful of your ass, cupping the flesh before he slaps it harshly, then holding it in his palm again as his fingers dig into your skin. He drinks up every noise you release, like a starved man receiving his first meal in forever. He pulls away to kiss down your neck, tongue licking a stripe down your throat before his warm mouth lands on your skin, nipping and lathering and sucking.

“This is,” you gasp, coming up for air and that scrap of sanity surfacing in your mind again, “We shouldn’t be doing this, we— we said that last time was the, ahuh-ahh, last… last time.”

Bakugou sucks harder against your neck, his hands on either ass cheek and pulling your bottom against him. The friction of his cock against your core, even with your clothes separating you, makes your head spin and your voice die out. “You want me to stop, hah?” He grumbles against your throat, slick with his saliva. He rolls your hips against his particularly hard, and your hand reaches out to latch onto his shoulder as your pussy twinges in your panties.

You cannot reply, only a high-pitched whimper tumbles out of you because suddenly he’s pushing aside your leotard and panties, digits dipping into your humiliatingly wet entrance. His fingers easily glide up and down your slit, thumb flicking cruelly against your clit as you double over, nails breaching the skin on his shoulders.

“Doesn’t seem like you know what you want,” he comments, voice gravelly and timbre. His other hand rests on your hip, keeping you from grinding against him. He’s looking up at you, eyes darkened with lust and that haughty grin splitting his lips.

You glare at him, eyebrow twitching at his torment, mouth wavering as his fingers continue to tease along your sopping folds. After being with him so many times, you know what he’s waiting for, but you’re absolutely torn; a moth drawn to the flame yet wary of being burnt. “Please, Bakugou,” you murmur, eyes begging him to give you more.

Bakugou’s brow quirks upright, a single knuckle pushing into you and rubbing against your velvet walls. “Please, what, Princess?” He drawls out, almost purring at having you in his favorite position. That being, you, desperate for his touch.

You groan, throwing your head back as another knuckle slides inside, two wide fingertips stretching your cunt so infuriatingly shallowly. You try to move your hips but his grip is iron on your waist, and a long whine falls out of your mouth. “Just— Pleaseee Katsuki,” you beg, not wanting to say the words he truly wants, but not giving him nothing as his name leaves your lips so seductively.

His nostrils flare as he exhales, shifting underneath you as you feel his cock twitch against your leg. “I thought you wanted me to stop?” He growls, tone low enough you can feel his words shake his lungs. They shake something within you, too.

“No,” you breathe out, placing your lips softly against his before pulling away, your eyes boring into his, “I want this, I want you so bad.”

Bakugou groans as he drives his fingers into you knuckle-deep, curling his fingertips and rubbing against your insides. You moan like a whore at the sensation, his thumb still working on your clit clumsily as he pumps his fingers into you. His lips capture yours again, the hand on your hip jumping up to grab onto your neck again and push your lips harder onto his.

A searing heat ebbs through your body as his digits dutifully work within you, and you can’t help but begin to drop your hips against his hand, grinding onto his fingers without restraint. Bakugou clearly appreciates that, a loud moan ripping out of his lungs at the novelty and his fingers press harder into you, colliding into that spongy spot deep inside. You sob at the intensity, pleasure wracking through you as the angle only makes it easier for him to hit that spot— again, and again, and again— until white shapes flash before your eyes and you’re clutching onto him, screaming out as ecstasy thrums through your entire being.

After a minute of your pussy fluttering around him, Bakugou’s fingers pull out of you, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you like you’re the hottest person on the planet. “Fuck,” he snarls, lip twitching as he lifts his hips, tugging down his black pants and briefs half-way down his thighs. His heavy cock smacks against his abdomen, looking pale and pretty in the low lighting, glistening with a bead of pre rolling down the side of his length.

You lick your lips at the sight, the desire to shove him into your mouth overcoming you. Bakugou catches your reaction, a low chuckle reverberating his chest and making you glance at him. “I wanna suck you off,” you say quietly, looking over to the passenger seat and wondering if you could do it from that position, because you certainly can’t do it from where you are now.

“Thas’kay Princess,” he mumbles, grabbing your chin and forcing your lips to meet his once again. His tongue glides over your lip slowly, his other hand smacking your ass roughly before he grabs the inside of your thigh, spreading you above him. “That can wait. Need you right now.”

His words send a different kind of shiver down your spine— the kind that was the whole reason why you’d told yourself you needed to stop fucking him in the first place. But right now, in this moment, there is no way you’re not going to fuck him. You’d already come this far, you might as well just indulge yourself in him.

So you do, and you both let out a breath of satisfaction as you rub your dripping cunt against the underside of his length. You lather him up, slickening his member in your arousal from back to front before you press your lips onto his, soft but passionate, and you welcome him inside with ease.

Bakugou’s head falls back onto the headrest as his hands lay slack on your hips. He’s reclined, but his red eyes jump between your face, your tits, and your cunt that sucks him up so greedily as you begin to bounce above him. His mouth hangs open slightly as you find your rhythm, your hands ripping up the bottom of his tank top to lay your palms on his chest and his abs, a thumb scratching through his kept and dark happy trail. “Hah— fuck, Y/NNN,” he moans, closing his eyes to succumb to the pleasure for a moment before he forces them back open, refusing to miss out on such a dreamy sight. Memorizing your body, willing himself to remember each moan and blissful expression you give, storing it away so he can burn them into his spank bank.

Once he’s had his fill of the wondrous sight, he sits up, mouth sucking in your nipple as his hands still your hips, grabbing the flesh there and wiggling to adjust himself underneath you. Ecstasy shoots through you as he takes the lead, thrusting up harshly to prod deep inside your womb, stretching you out and rubbing so deliciously against your g-spot. “Oh, god, Katsuki,” you wheeze as he just goes faster, thick and muscular thighs providing enough means to continue like this for who knows how long. Just as you begin to feel your orgasm build once again, his pace slows, and you’re about to complain before a long finger is thrust into your mouth.

Bakugou groans as your tongue coats the digit in spit, not needing instruction. “You gonna be a good girl for me, Princess?” He questions before he takes the finger out.

Your arms fold around his neck as you nod and kiss him again, drunk on his lips and his touch. He welcomes the tender moment, a hand planting on your ass and spreading you again before his wet finger meets your asshole, making you jump into him with wide eyes. “Ka—”

His lips pull you back in, silencing your hesitance as he begins to thrust his cock up into you again, pace measured and slow. The roll of his hips provides a new type of pleasure as his cock drags against your inner walls, your clit rolling on his pelvis. You quiver on top of him, hole puckering as his finger rubs around your rim. You whimper when he pushes inside, the small stretch foreign and stinging. But he doesn’t push it any further, just continues to lazily grind up inside of you, his tongue playing with yours. He only breaks away to whisper praise to you that makes your pussy shiver around him, “Good girl, you’re sucha good girl Y/N.”

Before long the digit is up to the second knuckle, and you’re a moaning mess above him. The feeling of his finger in your ass, with his cock stretching and pushing in and out of you— it has your eyes crossing in pleasure. The thin wall separating his cock and his finger continues to rub exquisitely on both sides, sending waves of fuzzy bliss coursing through your limbs.

The extra penetration seems to also be affecting Bakugou, for his thrusts begin to pick up as he starts slapping up into you with renewed ferocity. The stimulation from your pussy and your clit already have you clenching, but then he starts to push his finger in and out of your ass slowly, and you’re holding onto him for dear life, your head on his shoulder as you mewl into his neck. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and so can Bakugou, who nuzzles your face a bit before he kisses you again. Your lips dance sloppily, your body jostling as he pounds into you from below, and you begin to whimper as your cunt tightens around his cock.

“Still want me to stop?” He hisses, rough palm clapping across your ass cheek.

“Fuck no,” you pant, planting your knees on the seat beside his thighs and bucking up and down in tune with his pace.

Bakugou groans at your initiative, knuckle sliding deeper inside of you and gauging your reaction as your shudder against him in pleasure. “You like a finger in the ass, hah? Fucking slut,” he snarls as he rubs the digit inside of you, eliciting a low moan from the depths of your lungs.

You’re bouncing on his lap as best as you can, your head skimming the top of the car’s interior while you claw at his shoulders. “God, Katsuki, mphhh—” The added pressure of you sinking down as he ruts up is almost enough for you to cum, and Bakugou knows exactly how close to the finish line you are, grabbing your jaw and tugging your face to hang directly in front of his.

You brow furrows and your heartbeat hastens at the intimacy, passion crackling between the pair of you as his vermillion orbs burn into you. You don’t want to let him see such a vulnerable part of you, but he starts to slam into that spot deep inside of you mercilessly, determined to show you how good he can make you feel. Your orgasm tears through you and an overwhelming heat blasts into your body like wildfire through dry grass. A broken shriek releases from you as your eyes slam shut, limbs shaking, nails diving into his traps, and toes curling in your shoes.

Bakugou gasps as you constrict around him, moving his hands to clasp onto your hips tightly, throwing your body down to meet his as he pistons into you. Skull falling backwards limply, your tongue lolls out like a bitch in heat, his actions dragging out your mind-numbing climax delightfully long. He launches at the exposed skin of your neck, teeth sinking into your throat hard enough to leave dark bruises there, moaning shamelessly into your flesh as his thrusts become quicker, needier. “S-Shit, where should I— ‘m gonna—”

Your fingers rush to his hair, snapping his head backwards and his eyes widen in surprise, but you smother his open mouth with yours immediately, your tongue plunging into his wet cavern and claiming him as your own. Your hips hurl onto his with finality and the blonde stiffens beneath you, trembling fingers pressing into your skin. A loud groan rattles both of your bodies as his load spills into you, coating your womb in his sticky release as you continue to drop onto his searing cock slowly. When he comes down from his high he squeezes your waist gently to signal you to stop, sitting back with his jaw hung open slightly, laboured and choppy breaths making his sculpted chest rise and fall sharply.

You let him pull you into his embrace, his large biceps caging you against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. It’s peaceful laying in his arms, the post-orgasm bliss thriving and filling the entire cabin of the vehicle in a hot and sweet scent. Or maybe that was just Bakugou— you subtly sniff his skin and smile, the caramel-like aroma from his exertion wafting off of him. He’s warm, and somehow even though his muscles are rock-hard beneath you, his embrace is soft. You nuzzle into his neck as his fingers glide over your moist back, arms locked around your waist.

Neither of you say a word, two heartbeats thumping rapidly against each other as you enjoy each other’s presence. The both of you desperately cling to this moment of serenity, knowing that soon enough you’ll have to go back to normal, and this will have just been another “last time.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

no one asked for this but i did it anyway 🤪🤪 happy birthday blasty 💥💚🧡

➥ masterlist

#mhmm ive been thinking about this for awhile #hope it was alright!! i know nothing about cars nor car sex LMAO #especially not lamborghinis lol #bakugou fic #bakugo fic #mha fic #bnha fic #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugo katsuki fic #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my fics #my fics katsuki

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 3 years ago

Text

snakes & silliness

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Janus, Remus, Patton Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Intrualiceit, with a focus on Dukeceit Warnings: Language, some innuendo, both mostly courtesy of Remus. Word count: 2297

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

Dukeceit Week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: The selecting of a first family pet is a very important matter. Almost as important as making Janus grin and blush in the middle of the reptile section. Luckily, Remus and Patton take both of these tasks as seriously as they should.

Notes: Day 3 of Dukeceit Week 2021! @dukeceitweek Takes place in my Starlight Universe, where each piece can be read without any context. Takes place 4 or 5 years post-college. Remus, Janus, and Patton all use he/they pronouns.

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Remus locked the car doors behind them as he, Janus, and Patton began to make their way across the parking lot towards the pet store. “What shall we name it?” he inquired, offering one hand to each of his partners.

Patton lit up. “I don’t know… Snakey!”

Remus pursed his lips. “Sure, but I was thinking, like, something cool. Like… Mouse Killer.”

“No, that’s sad!” Patton shook his head. “What about Scaley?”

Remus grinned. “Janus Jr.”

“Danger Noodle!”

“Janice, but spelled the other way.”

“Snoot Boopsie!”

“Janus, but pronounced like anus.”

“You are both terrible at naming snakes,” Janus cut in, breaking the amused silence they had maintained until now as their eyebrows rose higher and higher with each of Remus and Patton’s suggestions.

“Oh, really?” Remus rounded on them with a grin. “And what would you name it, then, if you’re so much cleverer than us?”

Janus froze, mouth open, clearly caught off-guard by the question. “…Jake,” they said weakly after a pause.

Remus snickered. “Oh, really?” He let go of Patton’s hand and moved closer to Janus, leaning into their personal space. “Is that your genius idea for Best Snake Name of All Time? You’re sure?”

Janus, being Janus, stood their ground. “Yes,” they mumbled, sounding only a little sheepish.

Remus traded a mischievous glance with Patton. “And you didn’t make it up on the spot because you were making fun of our ideas when you had none of your own?”

“Of… of course not,” Janus said, tone almost perfectly even and cheeks very red.

“Well,” Patton chirped, the picture of innocence standing there at his full height of 5’2” and dressed all in pastels, speaking in that particular syrupy sweet tone that was the surest sign that his partners were in an excellent kind of danger, “I think that’s a great name, honey!” He raised his eyebrows at Remus in a meaningful way.

Janus blinked. “…What?”

“Oh, definitely,” Remus agreed with a wide grin, catching Patton’s drift at once. Teaming up with Patton to tease Janus was, pretty much universally, an excellent idea. Remus hooked their chin over Janus’s shoulder from behind, wrapping his arm around their waist. “I mean, it really sums up the essence of what we desire in a pet snake, you know?” He held up a hand in front of them both, palm out and fingers spread, drawing a line as if to illuminate the word in the air. “Jake. Now there’s a name that really says dangerous. Intimidating. Cool.”

“I hate you,” Janus mumbled, tilting their head to press their temple against his in a fond little gesture that belied their words.

“Nah, you don’t.” Remus kissed his cheek. “Besides, sugar, if you don’t like it, all you gotta do is say so.” He drew Janus closer by the waist until they were pressed together, his tone turning to a teasing sing-song. “Just let us know you don’t like it. That you were pulling it out of your ass and that you think it’s silly. That you were wrong and you changed your mind.” He leaned closer so his breath fanned against their ear and lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. “Just say it. That’s all you gotta do.” He pulled away, putting on his best bright, innocent air. “Up to you, though! Pat and I clearly love it, so if you don’t say anything, we do have a unanimous winner.” He grinned at Janus.

“You are so mean,” Janus whined.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Remus asked innocently. “Don’t wanna admit you’re wrong?”

“I’m not,” Janus protested at once, “I just….”

“Yes?” Patton said sweetly. “You just what, honey?”

Janus let out a sigh. “You two are going to be the death of me, you know?”

“Why?” Remus inquired. “Because you like it when we make you squirm?”

Janus made a small strangled sound. “Oh, my god.”

“That definitely wasn’t a no, baby,” Remus purred.

Janus flushed pink once again. “I—you—let’s go look at the snakes.” They pulled free of Remus’s grasp and moved towards the door of the pet store.

“Damn. We really are those, like, super obnoxious people who just stand in the parking lot flirting for ten minutes,” Remus commented, putting his hands in the pockets of his green-blue-yellow colorblock jacket, as Janus disappeared into the store.

“Have we ever been anything else?” Patton pointed out in a practical tone. “Come on, now, sweetie, we’d better catch up before Jan buys out half the reptile section.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Remus retorted easily, but allowed Patton to tug him into the store by the hand in search of their other partner.

They found Janus in the reptile section, staring with wide eyes and a soft, open expression into one of the glass tanks. They had a tiny grin on their face as they watched the snake flick its tongue out, and after a second, the tip of their own tongue appeared in an answering blep to mirror the snake. Their expression was far less guarded—and far more happy—than they normally allowed it to be in public, and Remus was hit in the gut with an overpowering wave of remembering-just-how-gooshy-Jan-made-him emotions.

Patton cooed softly, phone at the ready in a flash; Remus leaned over, resting their chin on Patton’s shoulder, and adjusted the angle of the camera just slightly to one he knew Janus would like better. Patton clicked the shutter.

“I can see you, you know,” Janus commented quietly, eyes not leaving the snake.

“It’s not our fault you’re so pretty,” Remus responded, backed up by an emphatic nod from Patton. He moved over to stand at Janus’s side, sliding his hand possessively around their waist. “Is this Jake?” he inquired innocently.

“Oh my god,” Janus mumbled, rolling their eyes.

“What? I thought you liked that name,” Remus teased with his best evil grin. “You know, it being your idea, and you being so much better at coming up with names than us, and all.”

“You really aren’t going to let that one go, are you?” Janus sighed.

Remus put one finger under Janus’s chin and tilted their face towards himself. “Not unless you tell us exactly what you want, baby,” he breathed, letting his tone go dark.

Janus visibly swallowed, cheeks staining red. “I—” Their eyes flitted away from him, glancing around. “Remus, we’re in public.”

“Why, what did I do?” Remus asked sweetly, grinning.

“You know perfectly well what you did.”

Remus grinned wider. “Hell yeah I do,” they acknowledged. “C’mon, there’s no kids over here, I can be a little naughty.” However, having made their point, he did ease off the teasing, just for the moment. “Now, introduce me to our snakey pal here. Are we liking this one?”

Janus looked over Remus’s shoulder, and Patton was by their side at once. “I—I do like this one, I think,” Janus said, indicating the snake that had been engrossing them when Remus and Patton arrived. “But we can look around first, and talk about it.”

Patton dug in their pocket and produced the scrap of paper with the list of species they’d agreed upon as options, after several nights’ worth of internet research and heated discussion. They’d needed to find a pet that would do well in the apartment the three of them had just moved into—their first home together. It was one that would allow pets, which had been important to them, and choosing a snake as the inaugural pet of the family had been an easy decision for Remus and Patton after the way Janus lit up talking about it.

“Let’s take a look, shall we?” Patton said, unfolding the list.

While there were, frankly, a surprising number of snakes available for purchase—Remus counted at least ten—only two or three met the criteria that the three of them had put together.

“So?” Remus asked, looking at Janus expectantly when they had whittled down the options before them thus far. “What’s it gonna be, babe?”

Janus hesitated. “It’s going to be our snake. Not mine. We should all choose.”

“Yeah, but Pat and I have only been waiting for it for a few months. You’ve been waiting since you were eight. It’s important to all of us, but it’s most important to you.” Remus glanced at Patton. “Isn’t that right?”

Patton nodded. “I like all of the options, honey,” they told Janus. “I wanna know which one makes you most happy.”

Janus was silent, looking back and forth between two glass tanks and quietly stimming with their hands—rubbing their thumbs back and forth along all their other fingertips, a stim Remus recognized as one of their go-tos when thinking hard or overwhelmed. “I….” They bit their lip, looking beseechingly over at their partners, voice trailing off in what seemed like mild distress.

Remus put his arm around their waist again, drumming his fingers against their side. “Problem?” he asked, gently pushing Janus’s hair out of their face.

Janus hesitated. “I’m… stuck,” they said by way of explanation. They gestured vaguely towards their forehead. “Up here.”

Remus nodded and placed his free hand delicately on Janus’s chest, right over their heart, his fingertips barely pressing against the soft, clingy lace fabric of their long black dress. “How about here?” he asked.

Janus chewed on the inside of their mouth for a beat and shook his head. “Not stuck there.”

“Do you want to go home and come back later?” Patton asked.

Janus shook their head again, head bent and hair falling about their face as they stared into one of the snake tanks. “I know which one. I’m only second guessing myself.”

Remus wrapped both his hands around their slim waist. “Do you know what you need?” he said, the words coming easily to his tongue. He’d struck on that particular phrasing back in college; it helped when Janus was feeling stuck, usually due to either sensory overload or a disconnect between their feelings and rational thoughts. It was simple and, more importantly, it cut past the issue of explaining what the problem was, which could be hard for Janus to articulate.

Janus hesitated. “Not exactly.”

“Any ideas?” Remus prompted when they did not go on.

Janus rested one hand over Remus’s, still clasped about their side, and drummed their slim fingers on the back of his hand. “I… don’t know how I feel about the name ideas anymore,” they said slowly, as if trying to shape the thoughts in their head into words.

“Oh, that’s no problem, I was mostly just being silly,” Remus assured them at once, absently signing the word “silly” in ASL as he spoke—one of a handful of words he’d retained in his vocabulary since he spent a stint learning the language in middle school. He glanced over at Patton. “Right?”

Patton nodded. “Of course not, honey. We don’t need to pick a name right now. We can always work that out some other time.”

Janus let out a long breath. “Okay. That—that’s good. Yes.”

“Better?” Remus asked, feeling the way they had untensed against him.

Janus inclined their head once. “Less things in my head now.”

“That’s good,” Remus said. “Also,” he added, in a less serious tone, “can I just point out that I am being really good about how many times we are saying the word snake and how many dirty jokes I am not making, and you should both give me lots of attention about it?”

Janus let out a huff of laughter. “What exactly am I doing right now, pray tell?” he inquired, gesturing to where he and Remus were pressed together all down their side, and to Remus’s hand about their waist.

“Breathing, in that very sexy way you do,” Remus retorted at once with a grin.

Janus half smiled. “I’m flattered, darling.” They pressed their temple to Remus’s. “However, I was referring to the way we are practically cuddling in broad daylight. Is that not giving you attention?”

“True,” Remus agreed, giving Janus’s side an appreciative squeeze, “but you’re also giving some of your attention to these reptiles.” He gestured at the wall of tanks before them. “Let it be known that I am terribly jealous. And Pat is all the way over there, which is too far.” They pouted at Patton, standing all of twelve inches away from the pair of them.

“Yes, you’re being very good, sweetie,” Patton said, patting Remus on the cheek. “You get lots of kisses later.”

Remus beamed, catching Patton’s hand in their free hand. “Much better,” they said with a pleased chuckle, and looked back to Janus. “Are you ready to tell us which snake is coming home with us, baby?” He hooked his finger in one of Janus’s belt loops and ran his thumb back and forth along their side just above it.

Janus pursed their lips, clearly considering this. “Yes,” they said. “I really like this one.” He indicated a tank with a golden-brown, spotted snake inside; a corn snake, the same one they had been so interested in when Remus and Patton arrived.

Patton made an excited noise, and Janus’s face melted into a soft little grin at once. “I love that one!” Patton said. “That one is the best one.”

“Good.” Janus looked at Remus, the barest hint of nerves almost perfectly hidden in their face.

Remus leaned up and pecked their lips. “’S perfect, baby,” he said easily.

Janus relaxed the rest of the way, leaning into Remus’s touch and raising one hand to their mouth to cover the smile on their face. “Of course it is,” they said primly, reaching around Remus’s back to rest a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “It’s ours, after all.”

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @theimprobabledreamersworld

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