#oh if u think these two radiate a familiar energy u are right and it was on purpose 🫠 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

weelittleweasley · 3 years

Text

meet the wealseys (f.w.)

prompt: you met fred at the joke shoppe when you had first arrived from america. after dating for a little while, he asks you to come and meet his family. needless to say, your visit to the burrow was one you’ll never forget.

pairing: post war! fred weasley x fem! american! reader

warnings: mention of the war and death, food and eating

word count: 6.4k

Diagon Alley was much different than what you had pictured, but in the best way possible. The tight quarters were packed with people as you pushed through, looking at the different store fronts, seeing how each one was uniquely different and magical. This was not what you were used to in the States, but you knew that you would become adjusted very soon. The hustle and bustle was refreshing and exciting for a young girl starting a new life abroad. As you continued to stroll along the alley, people called out to each other, exchanging sickles and galleons for merchandise, laughing and hugging each other, poking a smile onto your face. There were many stores to choose from, but you kept your eyes peeled for a store front that jumped out at you.

It didn’t take long for that to happen.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, the banner clearly spelt out with a animatronic person, tilting his hat up. Number 93 Diagon Alley.

Your curiosity stirred inside of you as you shrugged and pushed the front door open. Sounded interesting enough. As you entered the shoppe, you were instantly greeted with screaming children, things zooming past you, and so many colors. The shoppe itself radiated childhood joy which made your heart soar with excitement.

Walking through out the store, you quickly realized that this was a joke shoppe with countless amounts of products. Ones that you were familiar with and others that you had never heard of. You laughed to yourself as you saw Dungbombs and U-No-Poos. “Clever,” you spoke to yourself as you continued to walk through the aisles of the stores. Whomever started this joke shoppe clearly had an affinity for their childhood and having fun; something you could gladly get on board with.

As you walked around, you saw how excited everyone was in the store. It was full of life and nostalgia and joy. There was laughter, smiles, and cheering; how could one not love it here? The store’s energy itself made you want to stay forever. As if England couldn’t get any better.

You filed through the shelves, shuffling through brightly colored packaging and funny titled products that brought glee to your face. Maybe you could purchase a few things and send some of them home back to your family and friends in America. They would get a kick out of these. Slowly, you had accumulated a pile of toys and such in your arms. I must look out of my mind, you think to yourself. A 20 year old girl by herself in a joke shoppe, carrying poop themed jokes.

“Need a basket?” a voice calls from behind you as you flip around. Standing there was a tall, well dressed man with flaming red hair gelled swiftly away from his face as he smiled at you. His chocolate brown eyes were warm and comforting and his smile was enough to have you weak in the knees. “Seems like you got your hands full,” he speaks before ducking his right eye down in a cheeky wink.

His forwardness took you by shock. You stammered for a second before finally speaking, “Yeah, sure, thank you.” He hands you a basket that you dump all of the products in. “I appreciate it, thanks,” you smile back at him.

The red haired gentleman speaks, “It’s my job. Literally.” You chuckle lightly, nodding your head, realizing he was the owner of the shoppe. The uniform, the proud badge he wore on his suit jacket, the amount of confidence he exuded. It made sense. “You’ve got a fine selection of products in your basket, I must admit,” he smiles, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Some of our bestsellers.”

You smile back at him, tilting your head, trying to get a read on him. Was he trying to flirt? Or was he just trying to make a sale? “I suppose that’s why I’m buying them. Although, not all of them are for me, I must admit,” you sigh. “I’m sending some to my family back home. Figured my brother will like it.”

The owner nods his head, “Ah, yes. Nothing a brother loves more than poop themed pranks. What a brilliant sister you are,” he winks as you lightly chuckle. “I figure home is the States for you?” he asks as you furrow your brows, wondering how he knew. “Your accent. It’s pretty recognizable,” he laughs as you roll your eyes. “What brings you to London?”

At first, you hesitated sharing your story with a business owner of a joke shoppe that you had just met. But there was something about him that made you want to trust him. “I graduated from Ilvermorny four years ago. I decided I wanted to move out of the States to find other work to see if there were more job opportunities here. I moved here about a month or two ago,” you tell the flame haired man who leaned against the wall, listening to you intently as his eyes darted from your eyes to your body, quite obviously checking you out. You gulp when his eyes meet yours with a smirk on his face. Within an instant, you decide to play his game. “Besides, there are cuter men in London.”

He chuckles at your joke and nods his head. “Understandable. Seems like you moved for very important reasons,” he replies as you blush. “Can I check you out?”

You freeze. “Can you what?”

The gentleman laughs at your surprise. “Your merchandise? Can I ring you up?” he clarifies as you exhale a breath with a blush, lightly laughing before nodding. “Brilliant...besides, I’ve been checking you out since you walked into the store,” he simply states before leading the way to the cash register. Your heart stops as your mouth runs dry. At least he was honest. “I didn’t get your name,” he speaks as he ducks behind the counter, taking your basket and ringing up your things. “I’m Fred.”

Fred. The name suited him. You smile, “(Y/N),” you speak, extending you hand to shake his as he does so with a smirk on his lips. “The shoppe is really amazing. You must be proud of it,” you praise him as he smiles proudly.

“We are,” he speaks as you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “My brother and I run the shoppe together. He’s my twin,” he reveals.

“Twin?” you clarify.

“Yeah, twin. Georgie!” Fred calls out into the shoppe.

Suddenly, from behind a stack of boxes pops out a figure identical to Fred. “Good God,” you breathe out. The twin, now known as George, walks over to Fred as Fred slings an arm around his brother. As they stand next to each other, you realize just how identical they were. The only way telling them apart was the color of the shirt they wore. This would surely be trouble.

“George, this is (Y/N). She recently moved here from America,” Fred tells George who smiles widely at you, extending his hand to shake yours as you gladly accept it. “(Y/N), this is George, my twin.”

With a large smile, you speak to George, “Pleasure to meet you. I see where Fred gets his handsome looks from,” you joke around, making George laugh wildly.

“Oh, you’re brilliant. I like you already,” George beams before nudging his brother with a knowing look. Fred gave his brother a shove as George smirked at him, knowing exactly what was going on here. Unbeknownst to you. “Well, I hope this isn’t the last I see of you, (Y/N). I’ve got to go restock some shelves, but don’t be a stranger,” George tells you, very friendly for just having met each other.

And just as quickly as he came, he’s gone, disappearing behind boxes. “He seems lovely,” you tell Fred who rolls his eyes, making you giggle.

Fred shakes his head, “Ball breaker,” he huffs. “But he’s my brother. Gotta love him,” he smiles. “That’ll be three galleons,” he chimes. You look at him puzzled. There was enough merchandise there to be well over ten galleons, but he was only charging you three. But before you can protest, Fred speaks, “The new girl discount,” he winks as you smile at him gratefully before handing him three galleons. “I hope your brother enjoys his things.”

You look up at Fred and gulp. The fact that this complete stranger had you at a loss of words was beyond you. “I’m sure he’ll love them,” you speak honestly as Fred smiles softly. “I hope this isn’t the last time we see each other, Fred,” you reveal to him honestly. There was something about Fred that made you want to be around him. The life he had inside of him was enticing and exciting; he was different than other men you have met in London.

Looking into your eyes, Fred gulps before speaking, “I’m sure it won’t be. In fact, since you’re still new to London, maybe I could show you around this weekend? I know a few good spots in the area. You know, since I’m a local.”

His words make a grin appear on your lips as you nod your head, “That sounds really nice, Fred. I’d like that.”

“Wicked,” Fred breathes out as you giggle. “Saturday? We can make a day of it? We’ll meet here and I’ll give you a very comprehensive tour,” he wiggles his brows as you smile with a nod. “Until then, (Y/N).”

You give Fred a small wave goodbye before exiting the joke shoppe with two bags full of pranks and toys. And now a date for Saturday.

--------------------

“Fred, let’s get a move on! The shop opens in twenty and it’s new release day!” George yells from outside the bedroom door as Fred groan, cuddling further into your chest as you rub his back. “(Y/N)! Stop distracting my git brother!”

You chuckle as Fred calls back out, “Leave her out of this, you wanker! I’ll be ready in five!” George groans from outside of the door before you hear his footsteps disappear into the kitchen. Fred looks up at you as he lays on your chest, you brushing his floppy red hair out of his eyes. “I guess that’s my cue,” Fred huffs before peeling himself off you, rubbing his face with a groan.

It had been three months since you had met Fred that day in the joke shoppe. Three months since he had flirted with you and you had gone out on your first date. There was undeniable chemistry between you and Freddie. He adored how you loved to joke around, not taking yourself or anything too seriously. He adored that way you looked around London with such wonder and curiosity with wide eyes and smile. Fred loved the way you threw your head back with you laughed and gave his hand a squeeze. Fred loved when you bit back a smile when you teased him before giving in and falling into a fit of giggles. Fred was smitten with you and you him. You adored his confidence and professionalism, but you adored even more the way he could act like a fool at the drop of a hat. Fred was childlike in the best way possible. He was a breath of fresh air. He was what you needed when you moved here.

“Oh, come on, Freddie,” you sit up in the bed, Fred’s large t-shirt draped over your body. “It’s new release day! That should be loads of fun! Besides, after the work day is over, you know I’ll be waiting for you,” you kiss his shoulder blade. You worked just up the road at the Apothecary, so it was easy for Fred to run over and see you on his lunch break. That was Fred’s favorite part of the day. He secretly wished that you didn’t get another job, so he could easily run over on those lunch breaks to steal a quick kiss and see your face. Even if it was for three minutes.

Fred begrudgingly pulls on his suit pants, huffing, “I can only hope that this release goes well. George and I invested a lot into this release and if it doesn’t do well, then we’ll lose a lot.”

You give your darling a knowing look, “It won’t do poorly, Fred. You and I both know that.” Fred gives you a gentle smile as he buttons up his shirt. “Come here,” you sit up on your knees as Fred walks over the edge of the bed. You pull his tie around his neck before tying it for him, something you knew he loved. “Today is going to be a brilliant day and you are going to sell out. I feel it in my gut.”

Fred takes your chin in his fingers, forcing your gaze up to his. His eyes look into yours with adoration before he pulls you in for a sweet kiss as you smile into it. Fred’s lips move gently against yours, making your stomach sway in excitement. Kissing Fred never got old. He gently pull away from you, pushing his forehead against yours. “I love you, angel,” he coos as you blush. He pecks the tip of your nose before sighing, “I’ll stop by the apothecary around lunch to update you on how sales are going.”

With a small nod, you watch him open the bedroom door and get ready to leave. “I love you, Freddie. You’ll be great,” you call after him as he sends you a wink.

“What about me?!” George’s voice booms from the other room.

You laugh and sigh, “You’ll be phenomenal, Georgie!”

“Hah! I got a phenomenal and you got a great, Fred! Guess (Y/N) has a favorite twin!” George teases his brother as you hear a slap and George squeal an Ouch!

“Oh, would you shut your fat mouth and get downstairs!” Fred exclaims at his brother, making you chuckle.

The sounds of the twins banter slowly faded as they descended the stairs of the flat down to the shoppe below. You smiled to yourself as you pried yourself off of Fred’s comfortable linens and forced yourself to get ready for your own job that awaited you.

Soon enough, the lunch hour rolled around and you were finishing helping a customer purchase a bunch of ingredients for a spell. “Have a lovely day,” you chimed as you handed her a bag full of her things.

As she left the apothecary, you exhaled deeply and arched your back, stretching the kinks in your back. Standing on your feet all day really took a lot out of you.

The bell at the front door chimed signaling that another customer had arrived. Mindlessly, you begin speaking, “Good afternoon and welcome. Is there something I can assist you w-”

You are briskly cut off by a pair of lips on yours as you instantly melt into Fred’s touch, humming gently into your embrace. Fred pulls away with a large grin on his face. “Hi, Freddie,” you speak.

“How did you know it was me and not George,” he questions you, poking at your sides. “How do you know it’s not George right now pretending to be Fred? Huh?”

In between giggles, you manage to speak, “I know my boyfriend, Fred.” Fred halts his tickling as you smile up at him. “Besides, George has a more square jaw than you do. You also have calloused finger pads from opening boxes and George doesn’t because he carries the inventory,” you recount as Fred looked at you, quite impressed that you had little tells between him and his twin brother. “Anyway, how are sales going? Business booming?”

Fred smiles widely before you jump on the counter, Fred standing in between your legs. “Better than booming. We sold out at eleven in the morning. Nearly an hour after we opened,” Fred gushes as you gasp, pulling him in for a tight hug. You weren’t surprised that the release went well; the boys knew their demographic and always knew what the people wanted. “But that’s not all the good news, my love.”

You give your boyfriend and knowing look. “Really?” you ask as he nods. “Oh, I’m scared.”

“No need to be,” he chuckles. “I called my mum to tell her the good news and she thinks a celebration is in order. She invited us, all of us, to come home for the weekend. Everyone will be home. Me, George, Ron, Percy, Ginny, Mum, Dad. I assume that Hermione and Harry’ll be there too because bloody hell it’s not home without them. Mum even said that Bill and Fleur may stop by at one point! It’ll be a mini vacation! Isn’t that brilliant?” he beams.

But instead of cheering in glee, your heart freezes. Going to Fred’s childhood home to meet his family and his friends? Not just for dinner. For the weekend. You had no idea what to expect. You knew that Fred had a large family and he spoke highly about all of them. He told you stories of his childhood and Hogwarts and he always seemed to speak of it all with such love.

It’s not that you didn’t want to meet his family, you just didn’t want to not meet their expectations that they had for Fred. From the stories Fred and George had told you, Mrs. Weasley was very protective over her children. Especially after the war. With Fred nearly dying, she was especially careful with Fred. The last thing you wanted was to make his mother disappointed in his choice of a partner and even more terrifying, you didn’t want your beloved boyfriend’s mother hate you.

“(Y/N)? You haven’t said anything? You alright?” Fred snaps you out of your thoughts as you shake your head, bringing you back to reality. “Do you want to come home and meet my family?” he excitedly asks you, taking your hands in his as he kisses the backs of them tenderly, looking up at you hopeful for your response.

You couldn’t say no. It would break Fred’s heart. Besides, you were going to have to meet them eventually. With a deep breath, you reply, “Of course I do, Freddie love.”

Fred claps his hands together, “Wicked. Oh, this is bloody brilliant. I’ll have to run back to the shoppe and ring her and tell her to make an extra place setting for tonight.” Fred looks at you, childish joy bubbling in his eyes as you sigh softly, giving him a gentle smile. The look on his face made you fall in love with him all over again. “I can’t wait for them to meet you. They’re gonna love you,” he tells you, holding your face in between his calloused hands as you smile. “Godric, I love you,” he breathes before kissing you quickly. “Okay, I’ve got to get back to the shoppe. But after you’re done with work, go pack a bag, and meet me and George back at our flat. We’ll apparate from there!”

And with that, Fred is out of the apothecary without another word, leaving you speechless, still sitting on the counter. As you sit there, just puzzled, your co-worker notices your predicament and laughs, “Meeting the family tonight, eh?”

“Seems like it,” you gulp.

-----------------------

You stood nervously in the living room of the twins’ flat, overnight bag in hand as you nervously nibbled on your fingernails. George yelled things to Fred from his bedroom as the two twins chaotically packed their bags and gathered things for their weekend stay. “Do you think we should bring our own brooms?” Fred boomed from his room.

“No,” George yelled back. “The ones that are in the shed will be just fine.”

Brooms? Should you have brought a broom? Your eyes dart to Fred who emerges from his room, duffel in hand with a large smile on his face. “Should I have brought a broom?” you ask him.

Fred laughs and shakes his head. “No, all you need to bring is your beautiful, wonderful self,” he speaks, kissing your forehead. “Georgie, let’s get this show on the road!”

“Coming, coming!” George bellows before appearing from his room, backpack on with another small bag in his hand. “Would you like to do the honors?” he smiles at Fred.

“Thought you’d never ask, brother,” he beams before pulling his wand from his pocket. “Everyone ready? Got all their things?” Fred looks at George who gives him a confident nod as you feign confidence and give Fred a small smile. “Brilliant...” he trails off before with a flick of his wand and a whoosh.

And suddenly before your eyes, you are not in the flat anymore. Instead, lush green grass is beneath your feet and the smell of rosemary and thyme floats around in the air. Ahead of you stands a proud, tall house that have Fred and George grinning from ear to ear. They were home.

Within seconds, George speaks, “Last one inside carries up all the bags!”

Fred and George are instantly set in a mad dash as you roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile. You slowly walk behind them, carrying your bag, heart beating hard against your chest. The time was now and there was no avoiding it.

When you reach the front entrance, George looks at you, “(Y/N)! You didn’t even try!” You laugh and shake your head. “Eh, it’s fine. We’ll force Ron to carry all the luggage upstairs,” George shrugs.

Fred appears and grabs your hand, pulling you inside with a bright smile. “Mum! Dad! We’re home!” Fred calls out before chatter starts blooming from all areas of the house, making your heart race. Fred looks at your nervous eyes and squeezes your hand. “No need to worry. I’m telling you they’re going to adore you.”

First down the stairs is Ginny, the only Weasley daughter. Her eyes land on her two other brothers as she grins widely. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she laughs before George scoops her up in a tight hug, spinning her around as they both laugh wildly. George puts her down only for Fred to do the same thing to his younger sister. “I missed you both so much. Home isn’t the same without you two,” she speaks to her brothers.

Fred pulls his sister into his side, “We missed you too. Everyday we miss you, little.” Ginny smiles up at her brother. “Gin, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N). (Y/N), meet the littlest Weasley, Ginny.”

“I may be the littlest, but I’ll still kick both of your asses,” Ginny pushes her brother teasingly. Ginny smiles at you widely. “I’ve heard all about you. And by all about you I mean I’ve heard what Fred tells Mum who tells me,” she laughs as you smile. “Can I give you a hug?” she asks.

You smile, “Absolutely.” Ginny embraces you tightly as you smile widely. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Fred and George speak so highly of you.”

Ginny pulls away from her embrace and speaks, “They better.” You laugh. She had the same sense of humors as her brothers. “Your accent is so pretty. Well, I mean, all of you is pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Well done, Fred!” Ginny compliments, making Fred blush a deep crimson. “You could probably do much better than him, you know that?” she teases, making you laugh. You and Ginny would get along just fine.

“Alright, enough of all that,” Fred grabs your hand, pulling you away from Ginny.

Shortly after Ginny’s arrival follows bumbling footsteps and a voice that says, “Full house already! Bill and Fleur haven’t even arrived. I’m not giving up my bed for anyone, hear me?” George immediately tackles the Weasley brother to the floor, making him cry out. “George, get the bloody hell off of me, you git!”

George laughs, “Aw, I missed you too, Won-Won!”

Fred bursts out into laughter before George climbs off of the tackled brother. “Hey, Ronald,” Fred messes up his brothers hair as Ron shakes his head with a smile. “Missed you.”

Ron smiles at his brothers, “Missed you both too. Although the tackle wasn’t appreciated.” Ron glares at George who gives him a firm pat on the back. “You must be (Y/N),” Ron smiles warmly at you extending his hand for a shake. “Really nice to meet you.”

“You too. Didn’t realize that it was customary for your brothers to attack you when returning home,” you laugh as Ron shakes his head.

“Neither did I. Every day is a surprise here,” he huffs. “One second, pardon me,” he excuses himself. “’Mione! Fred’s girlfriend is here!” Ron calls up the stairs. “Gin and ‘Mione have been dying for another girl in the house for forever. She’ll be happy to see you.”

You smile at Ron, “Always good to have more girls. Gotta balance out the playing field.”

As soon as you say that, who you can assume is Hermione along with another boy with jet black hair comes down the stairs, of which you can assume is Harry Potter. Ron was right about Hermione, she was over the moon to have another girl in the house. To quote her, she said, “Thank Godric. Do you know what’s it’s like living with mostly boys? Do you know how many times I’ve almost fall into the toilet because the seat was still up? Too many times, Ronald Weasley!”

Harry on the other hand was much more soft-spoken, but equally as witty as Ron and Hermione. Again, making a comment based on how you were way out of Fred’s league. “Merlin, Fred, how do you do it?” Harry said. “(Y/N), blink once if you need help,” Harry joked, making Ron and Ginny crack up. You, of course, played along with the joke, blinking three times, making the friends laugh harder.

“Okay, okay, enough of that,” Fred pulls you away. “Percy! Mate!”

Coming from outside was who you assumed was Percy alongside Mr. Weasley. Both of them in work clothes, covered in dirt and such, from working outside. “Freddie! George!” Percy beams before engulfing his two brothers in bear hugs. The sight made your heart warm. The love that this family had for each other was enough to make you melt. “Great to see you again. You’re (Y/N), right? Lovely to meet you. So glad you could come over for the weekend!” Percy shakes your hand excitedly as you smile.

“I’m glad to be here!” you admit, now truthfully. Everyone was so lovely and warm. Percy steps away so now Mr. Weasley could meet you. “Mr. Weasley, thank you so much for having me. I’m so delighted to meet you and your family,” you beam.

Mr. Weasley gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen and grabs one of your hands squeezing it. “We are even more delighted to have you as a guest in our home. Oh, and please don’t call me Mr. Weasley. Arthur is just fine,” he smiles. “Speaking of our home, where is your mother?” Arthur looks the the rest of the group as they shrug. “Molly! Your sons and their guest have arrived!!” Arthur bellows up the stairs.

Seconds later, a glowing older woman starts down the winding staircase in the middle of the home, beaming, “Sorry, sorry, sorry, I was making their bed with fresh sheets. Now where are my loves?” Mrs. Weasley looks at her twins and tears start to form in her eyes. “Oh, my babies!” she exclaims as Fred and George engulf their shorter mother in a tight hug. “You boys don’t come home enough. I know the business is doing great, but please come home more. We miss you dearly,” she pinches their cheeks lovingly as George kisses his mother’s cheek.

Fred starts, “We miss you, too, Mum. Always.” Mrs. Weasley smiles at her son. “Mum, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N).”

Within mere seconds, Mrs. Weasley has scooped you into a hug, squeezing you tight as you giggle at the gesture. “Oh, my dear, it’s so wonderful to meet you at last. I can’t believe Freddie was hiding you from me all this time,” she gushes before holding you at arm’s length. “Beautiful American thing you are! Goodness, Fred, well done!” Fred rolls his eyes, making you giggle.

“It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Weasley,” you smile warmly at your boyfriend’s mother.

She instantly starts shaking her head, “Oh no, dear. My name is Molly. Not Mrs. Weasley. Please, I insist.” You smile at her with a small blush on your cheeks. It had only been ten minutes, but you felt more at home than ever. “You are just a peach!” she pinches your cheek. “Adorable. You hungry, dear? Cuppa tea? I have dinner in the oven. We’re having roast chicken. Freddie told me that was your favorite meal. Lucky for you, it’s the dish I’m best at,” she whispers the last part to you as you giggle.

This family was doing everything they could to make you feel at home and it was surely working. You felt like you belonged here. Molly linked your arms together, insisting you tell her everything you and Fred had been doing as a couple for the last three months as she made you a cup of tea. “Mum’s already stolen her,” George nudges his twin with a cocky smile. “Good luck trying to get her back.”

But you didn’t mind being stolen off by Molly Weasley. The woman was a delight. She was sweet, kind, and so thoughtful. Molly loved hearing the way you spoke of her son. “You speak of him like he’s the only man on this planet,” she coos as she poured you tea.

You blush a wild shade of pink. Maybe you had to get used to blushing around the Weasley family. “He’s the only man on this planet for me,” you shrug. “Fred is a proper gentleman, Molly. Really.” Molly rolls her eyes, knowing how abrasive her own son could be. “No, seriously,” you laugh. “All of the boys that I’ve dated are all back in America, sure, but none can hold a candle to Fred. Honestly.”

Molly squeezes your hand, “And I hope it stays that way, my dear. The way that Fred speaks of you is unlike anything I’ve ever heard from him before. Hold onto each other. What you have already is worth it.”

“Thank you,” you squeeze Molly’s hand back.

The dinner hour soon rolled around which meant the arrival of more Weasleys. As everyone was finding their seat, two more people apparated into the Burrow. “Bill!” Ron exclaimed before engulfing his brother in a hug. Bill stood tall next to a beautiful blonde haired woman who you assume to be his wife, Fleur. The couple was breathtakingly beautiful.

Fred leaned down next to you. “That’s Bill and his wife, Fleur,” Fred confirmed your thoughts. “Fleur is part Veela. She has a...complicated relationship with my mother and Ginny. But no need to worry, that ship has sailed. She’s actually quite lovely,” Fred tells you as you nod.

Knowing that Molly Weasley didn’t instantly take a liking to everyone made you think about the initial reaction she had to you. It made you feel better how warm she was towards you, even though you wouldn’t wish coldness from the Weasleys on anyone.

“Bill, Fleur, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N),” Fred introduces you to his brother and his wife.

Bill shakes your hand with a polite smile. “Nice to meet you,” he beams. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Bill teased his brother.

“Keeping me a secret, eh?” you look at Fred.

“An American girlfriend! Oh, this is brilliant,” Bill laughs. “Looking forward to getting to know you,” he speaks.

You turn to Bill’s wife, Fleur who gives you a small smile. “Nice to see another girl in the ‘ouse,” she beams. “You are quite beautiful,” Fleur beams as you blush yet again. But this time it felt different. A Veela complimenting you on your beauty. “’ow did you manage to get ‘er, Fred?” Fleur keeps the teasing going as he groans.

“Bloody hell, I get it! My girlfriend is gorgeous, and American, and out of my league! Are we eating dinner?” Fred tries to change the subject which just makes everyone else laugh.

Dinner was divine. Molly really knew how to cook and boy, did she make a feast. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetables, gravy, bread and chocolate cake for desert. Fred had told his mother what you’re favorite foods were and she gladly obliged to making all of them to which you thanked her profusely for.

Ron leaned back in his seat as the dishes were being magically cleaned. “You should come over more, (Y/N),” he rubs his belly, full of dinner, making you laugh.

Ginny sprung from her seat, pulling Harry up with her. “Well, digest quickly, Ron. The sun is setting and George promised me a game of quidditch before nightfall,” Ginny smirks at her older brother who groans.

“Quidditch? After this meal? What are you trying to do, Gin? Make me have a heart attack?” he complains. “Why can’t we do a morning game?”

“Cause you always sleep through morning matches!” Harry defends Ginny who smiles proudly at him. “Get your lazy arse up and get a broom!”

Harry, Ginny, Fred, George, Ron, and Bill all rise from the table and rush to the garden shed to grab brooms. You just laugh along with Fleur and Hermione at the table before you three rise from the table, walking outside to watch the game that would eventually descend into madness.

Hermione runs ahead of you and Fleur and to the backyard, calling out, “I’ll be score keep!”

Fleur turns to you and smiles, “’Ow are you feeling? I know the feeling of meeting the family for the first time. Although, I think you and I ‘ad different experiences.”

You give Fleur a knowing smile. “They’re a lovely family. I was very nervous to come here because I didn’t know how they would react to have a complete stranger in their house, but they’re really great. Freddie was right.”

Fleur links your arms together as you walk to a small clearing in the backyard as the lot before you hops on brooms and takes to the skies. “I know I ‘ave my ‘istory with the Weasleys, but they are very good people. Kind people. Genuine. And I know, Fred. I saw the way ‘e looked at you at dinner. The boy loves you very much. And being loved by a Weasley,” she looks up at her husband, laughing on a broom as he pats Freddie’s shoulder, “it’s the greatest feeling in the world. ‘old onto ‘im, (Y/N).”

Your heart swells at Fleur’s words. It was beautiful to see the way she spoke of Bill. How she looked at him. You could only wish that you had that kind of love with Fred. “Thank you, Fleur. That means a lot,” you squeeze her hand.

The two of you look to the sky to see the lot waiting. “Are you all going to start this game or not? I wanna see some action!” you tease those in the sky as Fleur giggles next to you. “You gonna win for me, Freddie?” you give him a wink.

Fred scoffs, “Of course I am.”

The quidditch game had ended quite quickly after a brief thirty minute game, Harry catching the snitch with ease. “That’s what happens when you challenge the best quidditch player of this generation,” he sticks his tongue out at Ginny who rolls her eyes and shoves her boyfriend inside.

“Wonder what happens if I beat up the best quidditch player of all time,” Ginny speaks as Harry laughs before running up the stairs away from his girlfriend who had just lost the quidditch match.

As the group files back in again, Bill and Fleur make their way upstairs back to his old room. Ron and Hermione scramble into the living room, Hermione challenging Ron to a chess match, giggling as Ron places a sneaky kiss on her cheek, George throwing playful punches at Fred who slaps his bum, running away as George yells at him. Percy, who sits in the recliner groans, “Can you be any louder? I’m trying to read!”

George looks at Fred who has a devilish smile on his cheeks. “Be louder? Alright!” Fred exclaims before he and George link arms and start scream singing a random song that came to their heads, making you shake your head and laugh.

Percy just leans further back into his chair with a sigh, but there is a small smile on his face as he watches his twin brothers, dance around the living room, occasionally letting a chuckle out here and there.

You sit on the couch, observing it all take place. To an outside eye, the Weasley house looked chaotic. But really, it was perfectly orchestrated. Everyone had their own thing to do, but still interacted and operated alongside each other without fail. Ron and Hermione quietly playing cheer in the corner, little giggles here and there. Percy reading a book, curled up in the corner. Ginny and Harry running up and down the stairs, in and out of the house. Bill and Fleur upstairs, getting ready for bed. Molly in the kitchen, cleaning up before getting ready to retire to her bedroom where Arthur was surely waiting after finishing the garden work. Fred and George acting like fools in the living room, babbling about the shoppe. The house was like an orchestra, each person playing their part that was very different from the others, but they all clicked together to make beautiful music.

Beside you on the couch, Fred sits and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “First day at the Burrow. How are you liking it?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You cup his cheek with your hand, brushing your thumb against it. “It’s perfect here. I can see why you love it so much,” you admit as he smiles, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. “Your family is so sweet. I really adore them already.”

“And they adore you. Mum especially. She was gushing to Dad about you over dinner whilst you talked to Ginny and Harry,” Fred confides in you as your heart swells. His family liking you was all that mattered. “You’re smashing it. But I knew you would,” he shrugs as you giggle. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Kissing his lips gently, you speak, “I’m glad I came.”

----

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdric @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @vogueweasley

#Fred and George #fred weasley #Fred and Goerge Weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader imagine #fred weasley x muggle!reader #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x american #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut

778 notes · View notes

everythingharrypotterblog · 3 years

Text

charmed [7]: ‘night changes’ (remus lupin x reader)

a/n: i got rejected from my top choice university program today so if im gonna be unhappy, might as well make u guys happy and release parts 5 and 7

brief summary: y/n and remus are both teachers at hogwarts and this is his first transformation where he is under wolfsbane. y/n remains in human form as he transforms. werewolf or not, all y/n ever feels is him.

series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.

series masterlist here

join taglist here

previously, in part 1:

“No, you don’t understand, it’s incredibly, extremely dangerous for a human to be around a were-“ Remus had tried to say, before Y/N had stood up and with a crack, disappeared. A single white dove hovered where she had stood, its wings flapping slowly to stay afloat.

“Y/N?”

With a crack, Y/N had appeared again.

“I didn’t know you were an Animagus.”

Y/N grinned.

“What, you thought James, Sirius and Peter were the only ones to ever succeed at it?”

Remus still grimaced, shaking his head and looking down.

“It’s still too dangerous, I won’t risk it. I couldn’t possibly think of hurting you, I’m too dangerous-“

“Remus, stop it. You didn’t hurt Peter as a rat back in the day, you wouldn’t hurt a flinging bird either. Plus, I got a serious height advantage on you anyway.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at him teasingly, transforming back again into the dove and flying up to the ceiling. Lupin wasn’t convinced.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t-“

The dove reappeared as Y/N and kneeled between Lupin’s legs, taking his face into her hands carefully.

“Please? Let me be there for you. Let me try-“

“I-“ Remus winced in his crippling self-doubt.

“I promise, if I ever feel unsafe, I’ll fly away. I promise.”

Remus nodded. “I love you.”

Y/N was taken aback, but surged forward to press her lips against his.

“I love you too.”

It was the first time they had said that to each other.

The first full moon of the Hogwarts term was now but a day away. As it drew nearer, Remus got paler and grew more irritable, as it always was.

The students never noticed, as he remained their kind Professor Lupin to them. Remus valued the staff and Dumbledore in extremely high regard, so he mainly kept to himself to avoid conflict.

However, his short temper was not 100% appeasable.

He was presently in his office, leg anxiously bouncing. He couldn’t help but jitter as restless energy coursed through him. The door opened, and he jerked his head in its direction, to see Y/N walk in, slightly anxious as well.

“Hi, love.” She said, making her way to him.

“He’s late.” Remus muttered.

“It’s Albus Dumbledore, what do you expect- maybe he had a Wizarding War in Luxembourg to stop before this or something.” Y/N joked, dragging a chair beside her and taking Remus’ hand.

His leg stopped bouncing.

1980.

Remus sat in an armchair in the House of Black’s library, attempting to distract himself before the night would come, a transformation night.

Loud voices reverberated across the walls, and he usually wouldn’t have minded, but the full moon made him more irritable.

“Will you guys stop yelling!” He called out across the hallway to the room where James, Sirius and a couple other Order members were talking over each other.

Sirius shared a look with James and they shrugged, making a motion with their hand asking the others to lower their voices.

“Hi, guys!” In came Y/N’s voice, as she walked through the door after a day of work, setting down her jacket. She joined the table for a few snacks, before inquiring, “Where’s Remus?”

“Ah, in the library.” James said mindlessly, shuffling the pack of cards they were playing with. He spotted Y/N head for that direction, and attempted to add, “But I wouldn’t disturb him if I were-“

But Y/N already walked in the library, wanting to see her boyfriend. She found him buried in a book, sitting slightly uncomfortably in his clothes, as if his body was having pre-transformation aches.

“Hi, love.” She said gently.

Remus peered up from his book and instantly smiled, uncrossing his legs and patting at his lap. Y/N took a seat on him, and he wrapped his arms around her comfortably.

“How was work?” He grumbled, mouth kissing up her arm and shoulder.

“Oh, just the usual.”

He listened to her talk about her day, hugging her as she sat in his lap.

James heard faint sounds of their light voices from the other room, and laughed. Sirius shook his head, both of them amused by their friend’s drastic change in demeanor.

“Little fucker.”

Dumbledore appeared in Remus’ office not long after Y/N joined, with a goblet of familiar-looking blue smoke.

“Remus, Y/N. I took the liberty of bringing you your last dose myself, Severus has already done so much. So, you wanted to talk about the logistics of your upcoming transformation.”

Remus nodded, leaning forward and taking the potion.

“This is your first time with Wolfsbane, so we cannot be sure on how it will affect you. However, I trust that it has been brewed properly, so it should do its function, which is to maintain your mental state when you transform.”

“So technically, he could just stay and hide here in his office and wait for the night to be over?” Y/N asked Dumbledore, thumb rubbing over Remus’ hand.

“Yes. If the potion has been brewed correctly, which I am sure it has, Remus should transform into nothing but a harmless wolf. Of course, because this is your first time, if you still wish to go outside and-“

“Yes.” Remus interjected, once he finished the last of the potion. “I wish to still use the Whomping Willow, just to avoid all potential risk.”

“Very well.” Dumbledore smiled, bowing his head. “I have complete trust in you, so you do as you please.”

“And I should… I won’t forget who I am, I won’t lose my mind?” Remus asked.

“No.” Dumbledore confirmed. “Your mental state will stay intact.”

“Then, I can technically be in human form with him.” Y/N gasped as the idea jumped into her head. She was immediately met with startled looks from both Dumbledore and Remus, Dumbledore merely intrigued and Remus looking downright terrified. “I mean, I could be with him. Me, a human.” She added hastily.

Glancing at Remus’ fervently opposed look, Dumbledore merely stood up.

“I will leave that between you two to discuss. Goodnight, and good luck.” He said. “Oh! And one more thing.”

His eyes twinkled. “I hear talk amongst the students since the start of term. About you two.”

Remus and Y/N looked at each other nervously.

“Something about spotting their Charms and Defence teachers always being present in each other’s offices…”

Y/N mouth dropped in shock, trying to figure out how students could even know where they spent their nights, before Dumbledore laughed heartily, shaking his head.

“I kid, I kid, I have heard nothing of the sort. All that has reached my ears are the raving comments about your classes and subjects. Keep up the good work, Professors.” Dumbledore chuckled, and vanished into the fireplace.

Y/N stared dumbfounded at the spot he disappeared, before letting out a laugh.

“I-“ She blinked. “He is so weird, and can you believe, I almost let slip that I’m an Animagus-“

She stopped once she looked at her husband, whose expression was grave.

“Wha-“

“You cannot stay in human form with me.” He shook his head.

Y/N stayed silent for a second. “Why not? If this potion works, and we know it will, your-“

“We can’t be too sure!” Remus sighed. “Werewolves, we hunt for humans. We look for victims to bite, to… to-“

“If the potion doesn’t work, then I’ll just transform into a dove, like always.”

Remus met her eyes in a worried gaze.

“I’ve been a bird countless of times on your transformations, you’re still gonna let me do that, are you?” Y/N raised her eyebrows. “You even said, werewolves look for humans, animal companions are harmless-“

“Which is exactly why you can’t be in human form, darling! The extreme danger that would put you in, you have no idea.”

“I have no idea?” Y/N pursed her lips, instinctively reaching out to her bicep, on which lay a tiny white scar.

Remus glanced at it too, with almost hatred and remorse in his eyes, as he sighed, hand tracing over it and kissing it.

“Maybe you should transform right now, my love.” Remus said anxiously as he, Y/N, James, Sirius and Peter walked through an abandoned part of the woods.

The sky was dark, and the clouds radiated a faint shimmer indicating the full moon would appear soon.

“I won’t transform until I absolutely need to.” Y/N said firmly, hand holding onto Remus’ tightly.

“She’ll follow our lead, Moony, don’t worry.” Sirius said.

Unintentionally, they stopped at a small hill, deeming the timing to be right.

“Y/N, it’s not too late, you could just Disapparate away, I-“ Remus said to Y/N.

“Remus. Stop. I’m not scared.” Y/N smiled at him, cupping his cheek. “You’re still you. And I love you, all parts of you. Nothing will change that, or you and me.”

Remus nodded, breathing quickly and pulled her in for a kiss, before the other Marauders beckoned Y/N to back away slightly as the moon started to peak.

The night changed in an instant.

The opal orb shone in the sky and in the moonlight, Y/N watched as Remus’ tall silhouette trembled, his body morphing into a werewolf.

Y/N was in awe. His body lengthened. His shoulders were hunching. Hair sprouted visibly from his head and neck and his hands curled into clawed paws. Straightening up, he howled to the sky, the sound echoing into the rest of the night.

Y/N’s mind went blank. The Marauders had transformed as she kept her eye on Remus. For a second, the werewolf’s eyes met hers, but before she could do anything, he lunged for her.

Adrenaline shot through her body as the werewolf made a swipe towards her, a big black dog jumping in between them just in time for Remus’ sharp claw to slightly graze her shoulder before she transformed with a crack, into a dove and flew up, batting her wings.

“I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that.” Remus whispered painfully, finger tracing over the small permanent scratch near Y/N’s shoulder.

“But I’m fine.” Y/N pursed her lips, eyes looking into Remus’ face imploringly. “Because I knew that it wasn’t you. And after the night ended, you cared for me so tenderly and lovingly. Gently. Because that is the real you.”

Remus soaked a warm towel for the millionth time as he sat Y/N on the toilet next to the sink to tend the small scratch she had acquired from him.

“Rem, it’s okay, do you realize that I’ve broken literal bones before! This is nothing.” Y/N said, letting him clean the patch of skin before taking both of his hands in hers. He kneeled in between her legs.

“I could never forgive myself for this, I’m so sorry-“

“Please. In the best way possible, shut up.” Y/N smiled, eyes welling up at the unnecessary look of remorse plaguing Remus’ face. “That wasn’t you. And nothing that I saw or felt last night changes who you are to me now.”

“You don’t…see me as a monster? You don’t even feel a tiny bit scared being with me right now?” Remus teared up.

Y/N smiled, eyes crinkling and letting tears fall down her cheeks. “I just feel you.”

Y/N woke up from her nap the night of the full moon to find Remus’ side of the bed empty. Eventually, she had gotten Remus to agree to let her accompany him as she always did, but in human form this time.

Getting up, she spotted Remus already at the door. She crossed her arms.

“Are you running away?” Y/N frowned, her husband jumping at getting caught.

“No, I-I figured I’d head out earlier.”

Y/N walked towards him, squeezing his shoulders.

“We talked about this. It’ll be okay.” Y/N reassured him. She saw the fear still in his eyes but he nodded, blinking some away and reaching to get Y/N’s coat for her.

They walked in the chilly night air, making their way to the Forest. Although this felt completely new, they had never done this at Hogwarts and they were expecting new results tonight, there was also a sense of déjà-vu present in the air.

Y/N had been helping Remus with every one of his transformations during their entire marriage and before, ever since she was 18. It’s been almost 13 years that they were in this together.

We're only gettin' older, baby

And I've been thinkin' about it lately

“Thank you for being here.” Remus said, squeezing her hand. “And I don’t just mean tonight.”

Y/N squeezed it back tightly, beaming at him. The moon was close to being fully out, and they stopped on a small hill overlooking Hagrid’s Hut where it would appear in full view.

Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes?

“Remember, if I make any sudden moves, you transform on the spot, okay?” Remus looked down at her, eyes full of conviction. Y/N nodded.

They both stood there, waiting, anticipation through the roof. They felt nauseous, from nervousness. The clouds began to fade, and more moonlight shined onto them. Slowly, they let go of each other’s hands and took a couple steps back from each other.

Everything that you've ever dreamed of

Disappearing when you wake up

The first beam of light hit Remus as the full moon emerged.

But there's nothing to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

His neck began elongating, thick hair growing from his head and covering his back. His shoulders hunched as he grew taller, breaking through the material of his clothes.

It will never change, baby

Y/N watched from a short distance as Remus morphed into a towering creature. Her incantation was ready in her head, just in case she had to transform into the dove.

It will never change, baby

Slowly, the full-fledge werewolf straightened up from its hunched over position. His eyes met Y/N’s and her body tensed, remembering. Instead of lunging at her, he sat down, his human-like eyes expressing gentleness. Y/N took a tiny step towards him.

“Remus?” She said, voice trembling.

The werewolf nodded.

Taking steps closer, she shakily got down onto her knees to join him on the ground. She lifted a hand, tentatively, and inch by inch, approached it to cup his cheek. At the contact, they both breathed out in relief.

“I just feel you.” Y/N smiled, tears flowing from her eyes.

It will never change me and you.

to be continued

a/n: as always i’d love to hear what u thought or what ud like to see of the series:)

tags @bicyhot1 @pink-hufflepuff @legitlaughingflamingo @brod16 @gerardonmyway @blueleonor @suranne-doesstuff @rxmusblxck @spxllcxstxr @littleemo477 @just12randomfandoms @svnkissdd @norrreee @m4r13l3y @jess6578 @rorysreallyrandom @the-nightingale-not-the-lark @archeve19 @wolfstarslovechild @pan-pride-12 @x4kai4x @chrrybmb-mp3 @reggieluna @happyslittlekitten @missemilygilmore @all-things-fictional @strangefirething @abitofeverythinggg @yeahshewayout @imfreeeeeee123 @harold-pothead @lunnybunny12 @ellieblack11 @tugabooos @joyfulbiscuit @justonemorechapter07 @wonderwoman292 @skateb0red @secretsthathauntus @siriusblackswhoree @sabonbonn @untraveled-road @annabeljareau @valiantobservationkitty @diffbeanofbrand @theeicedamericano @spencerreidlove @flannellover67 @wishiwasdeadric @becks7401 @katsav17 @emmy-kitty13 @purritoqueen @girl22334 @monicafebyana @talsiaa @sierrax023 @axva03 @uhh-dk @nataliahgrace

#remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #Professor Remus Lupin #professor lupin x reader #professor! reader #charmed

305 notes · View notes

theraspberryler · 3 years

Text

Bandanna (I know, these titles are truly groundbreaking)

here’s the fic for this request right here, I was able to finish it much earlier than I thought

lee!tommy, ler!tubbo

summary: tommy had somehow managed to lose the bandanna tubbo had gifted to him, and felt absolutely awful. he tried to stay strong, but ended up breaking in front of tubbo. but it’s alright, because tubbo was able to help tommy through it! (hurt/comfort)

~this is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, then please move on!~

TW- self-depricating thoughts, let me know if I need to add anything

Tommy growled under his breath as he reached the bottom of the last drawer, still no bandana in sight. He roughly dragged his fingers through his messy hair, slouching down into his desk chair with a frustrated huff. He examined the state of his room, and grimaced at what he saw; drawers were left open, their contents strewn about the room, his closet door was left open, the objects messily thrown about from when he sifted through them in his panicked craze. Tommy tried to think of anywhere else it could have possibly been, but he’s already triple checked every nook and cranny of his entire room, and practically tore the place apart in the process; he couldn’t find it.

He sighed heavily, and rested his head in his hands, and tried his best to think back to the last time he had it, but his frustration and anxiety made it hard to think about anything. A loud groan rose from the back of his throat, and he let his head fall to his desk with a thump, then he let out a pathetic sounding whine. He wasn’t even sure why he was so worked up about the stupid bandana, it was just a small piece of fabric.

But, Tommy knew that it was so much more than that. Tubbo had gifted it to him the first time they met up, with a sheepish look on his face and a light blush, he refused to make eye contact with Tommy, thrusting the square piece of cloth into his chest. He had run his fingers over the soft, silky fabric, taking in its muted green color and the rather poorly stitched bee located on the corner of it. After some pushing, Tubbo had admitted that he indeed did stitch it himself, only making it that much more special to him.

Tommy had light-heartedly teased Tubbo when he gave it to him, before thanking him, but he never let on just how much it meant to him. Tommy had tied it around his wrist when he got it, brandishing it with pride. However, once he arrived home, he decided to leave it in his room, in order to avoid damaging or losing it. That had certainly worked out well.

He would find himself picking it up and fiddling with it as he sat at his desk, he’d run his thumbs over the hem of the bandana as well as the stitched-on bee when he got anxious, and though he would never admit it, being way too embarrassed, he would sometimes bury his face into the soft fabric on particularly difficult nights, the small cloth somehow bringing him a sense of peace.

Just thinking about it, Tommy found himself searching around on his desk subconsciously, only to stop once he remembered it wasn’t there. He felt his frustration build, and along with it, felt the familiar prickling behind his eyes.

“Tommy! Come on bud, we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry!” Tommy startled, his fathers shout shaking out of his daze. He hastily wiped his eyes with his sleeve and grabbed his phone, hurrying to the front door where his dad was waiting for him.

In his panic, he’d almost forgotten that today he was going to see Tubbo; they had been wanting to just hang out the two of them for a while, without the stress of streaming or keeping up with social media for the day. The thought of Tubbo made dread pool in his gut, he knew, logically, Tubbo wouldn’t be upset, he probably forgot about the bandana, but he still felt awful for losing something Tubbo had put so much time into.

Tommy had zoned out the majority of the ride there, staring blankly out of the window. He startled when the car pulled to a stop, and looked up to see that they’d arrived at Tubbo’s house. He took a deep breath and pushed himself out of the car, managing a small wave and forced smile to his dad before he walked up to Tubbo’s front door.

Tommy stood in front of the door for a moment, mentally preparing himself, all while feeling extemely stupid for being so worked up over this, before he forced himself to just knock on the door. Just seconds after, an excited, grinning Tubbo flung the door open, enthusiastically greeting Tommy before leading him back to his room. Once they arrived, Tubbo sat down at his desk chair, Tommy on his bed, like they would usually do when the two of them hung out.

Tommy was being unusually quiet, Tubbo noticed, finding it a little odd that he was the one having to initiate the conversation, but didn’t pay it too much mind.

“So what have you been up to Tommy? It feels like it's been forever since we’ve been able to just chat.” Tommy jumped a bit, having spaced out, before quickly trying to come up with a response that wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

“U-um, not much, it’s just kinda been the usual. You?” Well, so much for not raising suspicion. Tommy had to admit, that was a pretty lousy attempt. In his defence, he was never very good at hiding when he was upset, tending to wear his heart on his sleeve.

As expected, Tubbo didn’t buy it for a moment.

“You good Toms? That was a pretty lackluster response, especially for you.” And, Tommy just decided, fuck it. He was tired and upset, why bother trying to hide it from Tubbo, especially when the other could read him like an open book?

“I-I… Its stupid. But I lost that dumb bandana that you gave me a while back, and I tore my whole room apart looking for it and I can’t find it anywhere! And I know it’s stupid and pathetic but it meant a lot to me! I was careful to make sure nothing happened to it, and I have no clue what could have possibly happened! I spent pretty much all last night and this morning looking for it.” Tommy huffed again, his frustration at both the situation and at himself only growing stronger as he spoke.

Tubbo, shocked that he actually got the usually so stubborn boy to talk to him, was silent for a moment.

“O-oh, I- didn’t realize that it meant so much to you.” Wow, great job, Tubbo. 10/10 way to make him feel better. He had such a way with his words.

“Shut up, man. You don’t need to rub it in.” Tommy’s voice was small and pitchy, and, oh god. Tubbo panicked as he heard his breath hitch as he quickly turned away, hastily bringing his hands up to hide his face. Tubbo rushed over to the side of his bed where Tommy was sat, placing a gentle hand on Tommy’s arm, only for the younger to quickly pull it away.

“Fuck- shit- Tommy I’m so sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I was just being stupid and couldn’t think of a response, and that’s what my brain managed to come up with. I’m sorry.” Tommy still didn’t budge, curling in on himself.

“Be-because you thought i-it was stupid.” Tommy mumbled, causing Tubbo to panic further.

“No! No, Tommy, that’s not it, I promise. I just- didn’t expect it, which isn’t your fault, it’s just because I was being dumb and don’t know how to talk to people. It’s okay, and it’s definitely not stupid to be upset over. I’m so sorry that happened, and that I made you think that I thought otherwise.” Tommy still didn’t respond, and Tubbo was growing desperate. He really wasn’t a huge fan of physical affection, and certainly not initiating it himself, but it was the only thing he could think of, and Tommy definitely deserved a hug after all this. So, Tubbo scooped the taller boyup into his arms, holding him close and gently swaying the two of them. Tommy tried to hold out, but didn’t even last five seconds before he turned towards Tubbo and slammed himself into the younger, burying his face into his shoulder and sobbing.

“I don’t understand why I’m so worked up about this, I feel so stupid! I-I’m sorry, Tubs, for blaming you like that, I know you wouldn’t judge me for something like that. I-I- I just don’t understand why I’m feeling like this.” Tubbo tightened his embrace around the other, carefully maneuvering them until they were both laying down on the bed, Tommy smushed on top of him, still clinging onto him with a trembling grib.

“I’m so sorry, Toms, I know how upsetting it is to not understand what you’re feeling. It’s alright, you lost something that was important to you, and it’s okay that the bandana was important to you, and it’s okay to be upset over it. I know you said you looked everywhere, and I believe you, but there’s still a chance that it’ll turn up somewhere. And, I know it wouldn’t be the same, but I could easily make you another one; and I could do a much better job stitching the bee on this time.” Tubbo tried to make his tone more lighthearted towards the end, desperately trying to bring Tommy’s mood up, even just slightly. He hated seeing how upset his friend was.

After a few minutes, Tommy had largely calmed down, just the occasional sniffles and hitches in breath coming through. Tubbo tilted his head up to face him, and offered him a lopsided smile.

“Alright, Toms, you made it all the way out here, what do you wanna do? We can just chill and watch a movie or play some games if you’d like.” Tommy groaned, pushing Tubbo’s hand away from his face and smushing it back against his chest.

“I don’ know, tired.” Tommy mumbled, and Tubbo giggled at his friend's antics. Tubbo found himself mindlessly playing with the hem of Tommy’s shirt, not missing the surprised squeak his friend let out when he accidentally grazed his fingers over his side. A smirk grew on Tubbo’s face, and Tommy could feel the mischievous energy radiating from his friend without even looking at him.

“T-Tubbo, waiHAIT-” Tommy cut himself off with a squeal as Tubbo pinched up and down his sides, before bursting into bubbly, childlike giggles. On any other day, Tommy would have put up much more of a fight to get away and hold in his laughter, but he’s already exhausted himself with the rollercoaster of emotions he went on that day. Instead, he clenched the fabric of Tubbo’s shirt sleeves in his fists and weakly squirmed around in his grip.

Awe, Toms! You have such a sweet laugh! And you’re hardly even trying to get away, could you possibly get any cuter?!” Tubbo giddily exclaimed, moving his hands up towards his ribs.

Tommy hiccuped between his laughter, shaking his head in protest at Tubbo’s cooing.

“Nohohoho-*hic*-ohoh! N-Nahahat cuhuhute!”

“No, I think you are! Such a cute giggly little thing!” Tommy would never admit to the whine that came out of him at the teasy praise, practically keening from the combination of the tickly affection and kind words. He was overwhelmed in the best possible way, and, unable to form proper words, just wrapped his arms around Tubbo and clung to him.

Tubbo could feel his heart melting at his friend’s adorable display, unable to keep from audibly ‘awe’ing at him, only causing Tommy to whine more, and burrow even closer into his chest.

Deciding to try his luck at a different spot, Tubbo moved his hands down to Tommy’s hips, giving them an experimental squeeze.

And to Tubbo’s absolute delight, a loud squeal tore itself from Tommy’s throat, and he flailed his legs out wildly for a moment before going limp, seeping bonelessly into Tubbo’s embrace, loud belly laughter shaking his entire frame. Tommy babbled for a moment before giving up again on speaking, desperately holding onto Tubbo as a way to ground himself.

Tubbo only kept it up for no more than ten seconds, and while Tommy was in absolute bliss for those ten seconds, Tubbo stopped at just the right time, Tommy gasping for air. Tubbo giggled along with his friend, ruffling his hair.

“You good Toms?” Tubbo questioned after a bit, when Tommy still hadn’t managed to stop giggling. He just nodded in response, his eyelids suddenly feeling extremely heavy. If he was tired before, he was completely exhausted now, and Tubbo caught on to how quickly the taller seemed to be nodding off. He adjusted their position, reaching to grab his phone, before settling back down on the bed. He smiled, as he felt more than saw Tommy yawning into his chest, snuggling closer.

“Go ahead and take a nap Toms, you deserve it.” Tommy certainly didn’t have to be told twice, feeling the lull of sleep pulling at his conscious, and was out not even a minute later. Tubbo felt a warm feeling build in his chest, as he held his friend close and turned his phone on to scroll through shitposts shared with him on Discord.

And, yeah, maybe Tommy did lose the bandana, and that sucked. But it would be alright, with Tubbo there to provide him with more comfort than the small piece of cloth ever could.

#tickle fic #mcyt tickle fic #mcyt tickle #lee!tommyinnit #lee!tommy #ler!tubbo

112 notes · View notes

dokidokey · 4 years

Text

cabbage babies

－ when bokuto, your usual customer and friend who is a sunshine on a rainy day comes to your store looking like a hurricane brewing, he realizes that maybe getting rejected was for the better.

pairings: bokuto koutaro x kayla (reader)

genre: fluff, angst, f2l

warnings: swearing, an asshole for a customer, a pinch of jealousy, pining, bo gets rejected lol

word count: 4,941

notes: @janellion KAYLAAAAA SORRY THIS IS SO LATE this is inspired by that post u reblogged before, that hcs of hq boys bringing u flowers and bokuto gives u succulents instead! i can’t stop thinking about that :( this is a very very very late happy birthday post (*￣︶￣) happy late late late birthday kayla baby the love of my life i hope u like it (。’▽’。)♡

“Hi Y/N!” Bokuto Koutaro’s voice booms inside the small space of your shop. You look up from the small succulent you are transferring to a bigger pot and smile up at him. “Can I get one of those cabbage babies again, please?”

You throw your head back to laugh, the familiar name he adapted to calling succulents creating a wave of nostalgia to wash over you. The first time the bubbly boy entered your shop and looked for cute, small plants to give to this girl he likes, he pertained to succulents as cabbage babies.

“Hi!” His voice had boomed inside your little shop on a sunny, Tuesday afternoon. He was wearing a loose white shirt and some jersey shorts, a bag hanging on his right shoulder. He anxiously fiddled with his fingers before locking eyes with you. “Do you, uh, have those. . . those plants that look like cabbage babies?”

It felt as though your brain malfunctioned for a brief amount of time. “What?” You said, and you felt more dumbfounded than he was that moment. The boy with gray streaks on his hair looked down in embarrassment. “Ah! Forget I said anything, I’m so sorry, I’ll just leave!”

“No, no, no!” You were quick to scamper over the counter to stop him from opening the door and fleeing. You were. . . quite intrigued about these － these cabbage babies. Sure, many other customers came into your shop calling all kinds of plants these weird names but cabbage babies is new. You’ve never heard that before. You found it quite endearing.

“Can you describe these. . . cabbage babies to me?”

The man happily did with his eyes bright, hands animatedly flying everywhere. You took that time to take him in and you realize just how tall he was. You barely reach his shoulders. God, this man was huge. His arms were nearly popping out of the sleeves of his white shirt. You had to remind yourself that you were supposed to help him with this cabbage babies situation and totally not to admire just how attractive he is.

Or both. Both could work. You were a proud multitasker

He stopped mid-sentence to fish his phone out of his pockets. “Here! Sorry, I forgot I had a picture of that. . . This! These things!” He flips his phone to show you the screen and it displays an arrangement of different kinds of succulents. You almost slapped your forehead for being so slow. Yes, of course, cabbage babies. They did look a lot like cabbage babies.

So you led him to the small entrance of your shop after locking the doors. Not very convenient, you know, that if this overly-enthusiastic man is somehow hiding some ill intent, then you’re screwed. But you can’t think of him that way with the way his smile widened when he entered the small greenhouse in the back of your shop, littered with everything green and growing. He was so eager to jump from plant to plant to examine each one.

“Oh, this one is pretty!” He exclaimed, pointer finger caressing the soft pink tips of the succulent. He looked at you with a smile. “What’s this called?”

“That’s a Sunrise.”

Bokuto bought the little succulent in a pot, bouncing on the ball of his feet as he cradled it in his hands. He asked you what your name was and you asked him his, and that was when he said it was for this girl he likes. You were thinking about how lucky this girl must be, having a guy like Bokuto liking her so much that even the mere mention of her name has his eyes twinkling and his overall demeanor changing in excitement. All the while you were writing his receipt and his little reminder on the neon green sticky note he spotted on your desk and gingerly pointed to, claiming his penmanship is shit and what if she thinks it’s ugly?

He stuck the little note on the pot and went on his way, waving you goodbye. He came back the next week, talking your ear off about how much she liked the succulent. He purchased another one that day, a small cactus called Bunny Ears. He came back the week after that, and the week after, and the week after, buying a Kiwi, Mexican Firecracker, and Afterglow, in that order.

Now Bokuto is here again, his familiar bag draped over his right shoulder, clad in a white shirt and the same jersey shorts he wore the first time he came here.

“What would you want this time?” You ask, wiping your dirty hands on the apron wrapped around you and pushing the greenhouse door open. Bokuto follows you, eyes raking over the countless plants in the small space like he’s seeing it all for the first time. He hums and walks over to the rack of succulents in the corner.

He’s just staring at the pots, hands on his knees, worrying his lip. You’re worried too because Bokuto is quiet. It seems a little uncharacteristic of him to be quiet, especially if it’s about these plants that he loves giving to this girl, who you learned is their manager after a few late walks, talks, and eating out together. You also learned that he is a member of the MSBY Black Jackals, which you have heard before but aren’t that familiar with because you have little to no experience or interest in sports.

“Hey, Bo?” You’re a few steps away from him, fiddling with your fingers. “Is, um, something wrong? You’re so quiet.”

His smile is back at the sound of your voice, like you just pulled him out of this headspace and in his usual, cheery voice, says, “I. . . kind of, want to take her out on a － a date. You know,” he huffs out a breath nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I feel like she’s not getting the hints of these gifts so might as well tell her I like her and go for it, right?” He beams.

You nod and tell him yes, that’s great, ignoring the way your chest tightens, brushing off the fact that you, unfortunately, like Bokuto Koutaro. He isn’t that hard to like, anyway. His energy is so infectious, along with these little antics that are quite too much but you very much adore. He’s told you one time how some people think he was too much, like Bokuto was something they should but cannot keep from their palms. And they are right. Bokuto is too much, but for you, it is in the best way possible.

You actually met two of his friends before when he asked you if you wanted to eat somewhere after you closed your shop, two weeks ago. He took you to this restaurant called Onigiri Miya, who he said was owned by his teammate’s twin, Atsumu. There, you met Akaashi Keiji, his old setter and vice captain from high school. In the end, Osamu didn’t let any of you pay, saying everything was in the house. You insisted though, of course, but Bokuto, with a very pleased smile, shushed you.

Akaashi even thought you and Bokuto where in a relationship, which hurt, to be frank, on your part, because Bokuto was so quick to deny it. He received quite the judgemental raise of an eyebrow from the younger boy and just a frown from Osamu when he revealed who he liked.

You came back to Osamu’s restaurant just last week, and you love every food that man makes. Literally heaven on earth.

“I’ll drop by again later. Do you want to go to Osamu’s again?” The spiky-haired man who kind of just broke your heart asks. “My treat!” He says proudly, then his smile falters. “If she, uh, agrees, that is.”

You hum, stepping closer to him to take a look at the small grasshopper resting on the large leaf of the Golden Pothos next to your rack of succulents. You were about to answer him when the bell signaling someone entered your shop rings. Bokuto forgot to lock the door, great, and you frowned at him, which he responded to with just a smile before you both went inside.

There’s a man wandering the small space of your shop, whistling as he looks around with his hands tucked in the pockets of his pants. Despite the negative energy this customer is radiating, you have no choice but to accommodate him. “Hello,” you greet politely, putting aside the plant bag where the succulent you were transferring before Bokuto came was placed. “How can I help you?”

“Oh, this shop’s got a cute owner, alright,” he chuckles, and you might as well have screamed at him to leave. But you plastered a tight smile on your face as you ask again, “is there anything you want? A plant, maybe? I have－”

You don’t get to finish what you want to say when the sound of his lighter flicking on cuts you off. Your head is quick to turn to Bokuto, who has a frown on his face. You clear your throat and point to the No Smoking sign hanging beside the door.

“Uh, sir, if you don’t mind, if you’re going to smoke, please do it outside. This is a non-smoking area.”

He puffs out a billow of smoke and it takes everything in you not to scream at him to get the fuck out. Customers that do not consider shop owners’ signs and policies are not and never will be welcome in your store. Before you can talk again and try to send him off as politely as you can, Bokuto beats you to it.

“They said get out if you’re going to smoke.”

You almost lose your mind with how serious and scary Bokuto sounds. You always see him with this giddy and happy aura around and to hear him be this serious for the first time is quite unnerving. You are so lucky to not be on the receiving end of this. . . this Bokuto.

The suspicious man clicks his tongue, inhaling and exhaling another puff of smoke. “Ah, too bad. Is the little shop owner taken?”

You purse your lips momentarily before firmly pointing at the door. “Get out.”

“Not the best way to treat a potential customer, hun,” he smirks. Your eyes zeroes in on the ash that falls on your tiled floor. If this fucking man does not leave in the next two minutes, you swear yo－

“Just leave, man.” There Bokuto is again. You thank all there is to thank that Bokuto is here. If this man came in here without him and just you, you aren’t sure what you would do. It’s not like you to judge people easily, but you are always quick to sense if the person is genuine or not.

The man just raises his eyebrows at Bokuto before his eyes flits over to you. He says nothing as he turns on his back and pushes the door open. From behind you, Bokuto notices how you visibly relax as the man slowly disappears from your line of vision. You turn to him with your eyebrows in a pinch. “I’m so glad you’re here, what the fuck, if that man came in without you I’d probably lose my mind.”

Bokuto just smiles, adjusting his bag on his shoulder before placing a large hand over your head and patting the top of your head.

“I told you, you need at least another staff here in case things like that happens again,” he looks pointedly at you before adding in a low voice, “but that should never happen again.”

“I know,” you roll your eyes, putting your hands on your hips. “But I can’t find anyone yet. That’d be more convenient because I’ll be able to entertain more than one customer at a time.”

Bokuto brushes past you to lock the door and walks back inside the greenhouse, immediately cradling a Blue Rose. A grin blooms on your face as you call, “maybe you can drop out of that volleyball career and help me instead.”

There is a brief pause in your surroundings, as if what you said stopped everything and you’re wondering if you somehow stepped over a line, that maybe Bokuto took offense in what you said, but he turns back to you, smiles and says, “yes! I love these small plants, anyways. Maybe I’ll grab Hinata with me and there’ll be three of us.”

Oh. Oh wow. Bokuto is inspecting the tiny plant in his hands with stars in his eyes. He looks ethereal under the sunlight filtering through the glass, his features looking a little sharper than usual. How lucky, you think, that in less than eight hours or so, the possibility of him getting together with their manager will become higher. There’s a little voice in the back of your head quietly wishing it will end up opposite of what Bokuto wants, and you’re berating yourself for being selfish. You’d like to keep Bokuto to yourself a little bit longer than this. You’d like to keep Bokuto without the thought of him sharing what little time he has for you with his girlfriend.

The guilt only intensifies when he locks his gold eyes with yours, eyebrows quirked upward. “Or I can also bring Miyoko-san! We’ll grow cabbage babies together and maybe expand your shop so you can have more plants.” He says it all as if it will happen. As if he’ll really drop his volleyball career to take care of plants with you instead.

You just smile softly, wringing your hands together and trying to keep your emotions at bay. “Are you taking that?” He nods, and you tilt your head to signal him to follow you back inside. You take the stack of sticky notes, which grew a lot more thinner since Bokuto showed up, waiting for whatever he will say for you to write. To you surprise, he holds his palm up, and you look up at him in confusion as you place the paper in his hands.

“I want to write it this time,” his eyes crinkles in delight, “to make it a little more special for Miyoko-san.”

There goes your heart breaking all the way. God, why can’t you have someone like Bokuto do that to you? Why can’t Bokuto do that to you? The things you’d give to experience what it’s like to have him fawn over you like this.

“There!” He rips the small note and sticks it to the ceramic pot. “I hope she says yes,” he frowns, and your melancholy is quickly flying out the window when his hair droops. Nothing in this world will make you panic more than the sight of his usually spiky slacking.

“I’m sure she will!” You’re scampering over the counter the way you did when you held him off the first time he came here. “She’s wasting such a precious person if she ever says no, you know. She’s very lucky to have you. I’m sure she knows just how lucky she is to have you like this as you are.”

Your words didn’t go to waste as Bo’s vibrant smile blossoms on his face. He’s pulling you into a tight hug before and he’s out the door before you know it. You’re left here once again.

Being alone wasn’t so. . . so lonely before. But ever since Bokuto frequents your shop before and after practice, whenever he leaves, it’s as though he is leaving behind a great hole no one can ever fill in. Like he’s taking all the space from you to make you realize just how lonely it is without him.

So you wait, like you always do. You wait for the excruciating eight hours for him to come back and talk about whatever it is that happened during their training. You expect him to come bouncing inside the store all sunshine and wide smiles, but as you’re mopping the floor, the glass doors open and Bokuto Koutaro looks the saddest you have ever seen him.

“Bo!” You shuffle to set the mop against the wall and take his face in your palms. “What happened? Why are you so－”

“She’s dating ’Tsumu,” he whispers dejectedly, his forehead finding its way on your shoulder. There’s an audible gasp from you as the weight settles on your skin, and you notice then that he is still holding the small potted plant he bought this morning, the sticky note nowhere to be seen. You gently take it from him, your fingers brushing against each other before he links his pinky with yours.

You wonder if Bokuto can hear just how much your heart is bartering against your ribcage; or if he can feel the rush of blood through your veins; or maybe he can feel just how stiff you are from your posture. But you let him curl his pinky finger with yours, your other hand cupping the ceramic pot.

“All this time. . .” His breath is hot against your skin. “They were together all this time and I didn’t even know.”

Your voice is soft as you ask, “how did you know?”

“Saw them kiss,” he mumbles.

If this is what it’s like having Bokuto all to yourself without the thought of sharing his time with his girlfriend, then you take it back. This is so much worse than what you expected and the guilt in your chest for wishing he somehow gets rejected is enough to choke you. Just how cruel can you be to ask for his dedicated time when it would mean he will hurt like this?

“Bo,” you whisper. He says nothing. “Bo,” you try again, and this time he hums. “Look at me, please.” The ruffle of his hair as he shakes his head tickles your neck. You have no choice but to cup your right palm on his cheek to lift his head up, the back of your left hand holding the ceramic pot making contact with his other cheek. There is a glossy haze in his eyes as he stares at you, looking like a lost puppy with the way his hair is frowning.

“Now who’s this sad little guy in my shop, hm?” You pat his cheek gently. “I’ll treat you to some ice cream,” you offer, completely disregarding what he said this morning about going to Osamu’s again. You’re pretty sure seeing someone who looks like Atsumu at this moment is not a good idea. Bokuto’s lips are still curled down and you bring your thumb to the side of his mouth, softly pushing the end at an upward motion. “My poor boy.”

You’re kind of bitter, to say the least. Of what though, you don’t know. Or who. But as Bokuto walks beside you all quiet with his hands in his pockets, an aching hatred blossoms at your chest. You know it wasn’t that girl Miyoko’s fault, or anyone, really, but you don’t know how to project the bitter feeling it leaves in your stomach. Bokuto, of all people? He deserves to be happy. If happy means having a girlfriend and his time and attention for you decreasing, then you’ll gladly take it.

You push the doors of the ice cream shop a few streets away from your store, going for the booths at the back. Bokuto is still quiet and you’re close to pulling your hair out because his silence is choking you. You sit down beside him after handing him his “whatever, you can decide” ice cream.

“So. . .” You start, lightly stabbing your cup with the plastic spoon. “Are you okay?”

That is the dumbest question you have ever asked.

“No,” he mumbles, his own spoon dangling on his mouth, “but I will be.”

God, yes, you can almost cry from relief. At least Bokuto is not as beat up as you thought he is. You hum, taking a bite out of your dessert and turn to look at him. “There are plenty of other people who will be more than happy to love you, Bo. If she’s happy with Atsumu then that is good, right? Maybe she just isn’t the one for you.”

There is a faraway look in the ace’s eyes and you wonder if he even heard what you said. You got your answer when he says, “I know.” He pauses, then sighs, and looks at you. The frown on his face is gone, but he isn’t exactly happy either. There’s just the littlest hint of a smile on his face. “I know, Y/N. And I don’t know, I’ve been having these. . . these weird feelings lately?”

Your eyebrows rise at that. What now? “Like?” You softly prod.

Bokuto groans and presses his forehead on the table, his arms covering his hair. “No,” he whines, “I don’t want to tell.”

You scoff, slapping his arm. “What do you mean you don’t want to tell! You say things like that and now that I want to know more, you leave me out?”

He groans again. He honestly just sounds like a big baby, which he is, but you don’t mind because he’s slowly reverting back to his usual self. “I don’t know if I like someone else or not.”

Okay, wow, well, that kinda stings.

“Who?”

“I’m not sure yet so I’m not going to tell you!”

You huff, dipping your spoon in his cup and spooning a decent amount of ice cream off. “Okay, yeah, whatever, but you better tell me soon,” you glare.

You actually would rather not! But if that person is the key to really make Bokuto happy, then you’re all for it.

It is kind of crazy, and scary too, thinking about how Bokuto was just another customer on that certain Tuesday. The one-time buying turned into daily visits, and daily visits turned into dinners, strolls, to meeting his friends. You didn’t see that far into the future to even consider that Bokuto will be this important in your life, yet here you are.

And there you are when he invites you to one of his volleyball practices because Hinata’s been pestering him about meeting you. You meet Atsumu and their manager, Miyoko, who is a total sweetheart. And there isn’t even tension between the teammates, all of Bokuto’s heartbreak quickly passing. Oliver, the team’s spiker, even hit you accidentally on the back of the head one time, which resulted in the whole team fussing over you.

It’s been over three weeks since Bo came back to your shop looking like hurricane personified. Today is another Tuesday, a rainy one at that, and you’re fondly looking outside the window as raindrops pelt the ground. Your surprise is evident when you see Bokuto waving at you outside.

“What are you doing here?” You ask quizzically, watching him shake his umbrella before stuffing it on the rack. He grins at you, all sunshine and happy. “It’s my day off!”

“And?” You rest your chin on your palms.

“I’m gonna buy cabbage babies again.”

It pulls a lighthearted laugh out of you. It seems so long ago since Bokuto came here, usually asking for his cabbage babies and nostalgia swallows you whole. It comes with the cold, hard realization that cabbage babies mean he is going to give this to that person he likes.

Your heart cracks in time with the lightning that lit up the gray surroundings.

“So when do you plan to tell me about this person, hm?” You inquire, standing up from your seat behind the counter and opening the greenhouse door. Bokuto follows after locking the entrance.

“Soon,” he says, giddy, “real, real soon, I promise!”

Real, real soon before your heart breaks again.

“Pick away,” you gesture to the succulents awaiting him, and he picks out an Aloe Vera and a pink succulent (not Sunrise.) “You want that?” He nods. You both go back inside and hand him the sticky note that’s been collecting dust on the corner of the counter. Bokuto is extremely hyper today, almost shaking in his giddiness. You huff, resting your face on your palms once again. “You buy cabbage babies but don’t tell me who it’s for. Okay. I’m totally not upset.”

Bokuto’s laughter fills the quiet of your little store, his head thrown back as he rips two notes and sticks it to the pots. “Real soon, Y/N, I promise. Just wait.”

You’d rather not, but you pout in reluctance, nodding. “Ju－”

“’Tsumu’s calling!” He shouts above the loud ringing of his phone that interrupted you. “What? But it’s our day off,” he whines on the phone, and you take this time to admire him again － the quirky arch of his brows, his bright, golden eyes, his lips that almost never loses that smile you love. He’s literally so breathtaking and you have to slowly let this man go despite never having him, in a romantic sense, in the first place. You have to tell yourself that having him like this, as a friend, will be more than enough.

He frowns at you as he ends the call, grabbing his umbrella. “Something came up and now we have a meeting,” he informs, and you purse your lips and nod in agreement.

“You take care,” you bid softly, waving a hand. Bokuto waves too before he’s out of your shop and into the rain. You sigh sadly, staring off outside, the gloomy weather worsening your melancholy. You don’t know how long you’ve been thinking or staring before you lean back on your seat, and it’s then you see the little Aloe Vera and succulent Bokuto purchased, staring at you. You slap your forehead in disbelief, a humorless laugh bubbling out of your throat.

“What the hell, Bo,” you mutter, curiously scooting forward to read the little notes he carefully wrote out earlier. Nothing in this world could have woken you up from your shock, your little heart stuttering in your chest. You shake your head, close your eyes, before reading his writing again.

aloe you vera much, Y/N :) says the sticky note on the Aloe Vera pot. i’d love to raise lots of cabbage babies with you ♡ says the other one.

“Fuck,” you squeak, taking the plants in your hands and reading it again. “Fuck, what the fuck.”

Your hands are shaking as you reach for your phone, ready to call him and demand just what the hell this trick he is pulling but a customer suddenly barges in, and you have you act normal through the chaos in your mind as the old woman asks you three dozens of small, ceramic pots, two dozens of brown, plastic pots, and seven pieces of large pots. After successfully entertaining your customer without breaking a pot despite your shaking hands, you call Bokuto.

He didn’t answer your seven calls.

You had to wait three ungodly hours before he came back, a soft smile gracing his face. “Hi,” he says quietly, gauging your reaction, “did you see the－”

You kiss him. After almost two months of meeting him, you finally, finally did what you wanted to do four weeks ago. His lips are soft on yours, a little hesitant at first, before you move your hands from his cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. There’s a sense of urgency in his kisses, a little rushed, a little fiery, but it was perfect.

He pulls away and nudges his nose on the side of yours.

“You saw, huh?” He huffs lightly.

“I did,” you reply, just as quiet.

“Been wanting to say that since the ice cream shop.”

You pinch the skin on the back of his neck and Bokuto yelps. If you only knew this is how it will end, you would have wished he told you about it right then and there. You would have wanted to know it then. But soon never came this early, and you’re thankful you didn’t have to wait eight, long hours like when he has trainings.

“So the call?”

His eyes are crescent moons in the middle of noon. “No meetings, all plans.”

You shake your head in light mirth and disbelief, pecking him once on the lips before untangling your arms on his neck. He kisses the tip of your nose affectionately before you could fully pull away. Your heart clenches in your chest and it hurts so good. You finally have Bokuto, you couldn’t ask for more.

You grin as you stare up at him, eyes looking like two little hearts. “Aloe you too vera much,” you sputter between giggles. Red smears Bokuto’s neck and ears, and your giggles turn to laughter. He kisses you to shut you up, which is, unfortunately and fortunately, successful.

“So,” you start, wringing your hands together, just wanting to be clear between what this is between the two of you. “Are we, like, dating?”

He tilts his head. “Gotta take you out on a date first though, right?” He beams, and you smile shyly, stomach fluttering with the idea of going on cute, little dates with him.

His phone rings once again, and he scowls as he sees Atsumu’s contact displayed on the screen.

“What do you want?”

“Are ye guys finally dating?” Asks the setter, and you plant your face in your palms in slight embarrassment. It only heightens when you hear Hinata’s bubbly voice in the background.

Bokuto laughs, a warm sound that surrounds the small space of your shop, battling with the gloomy weather outside. “We are,” he smiles, softly grazing his thumb on your cheek. “We are.”

more notes: if there are errors i am so sorry i wrote the first half of this panicking because i missed kayla’s birthday and the other half earlier at 4 am because i can’t sleep lmao

#i many many lobe you kayla 😾#bokuto koutaro #bokuto koutaro fluff #bokuto koutaro angst #bokuto #bokuto angst #bokuto fluff #haikyuu!!#hq!!#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #hq #hq fluff #hq angst #msby black jackals #kielle writes

97 notes · View notes

ranmanjuu · 3 years

Note

Hii~! Can I request hc, warlods reaction to MC who love sweets badly? I mean, she really really REEALLLYY LOVE SWEETS! Could you do for Uesugi-Takeda forces? Thank you~ 💕💕 I hope u have a nice day (*´ω`*)

thank you, i hope you have a wonderful day as well!

shoutout to the u-t forces for having generally like 3 less members than the oda, makes life easier :heart:

‎‎

—shingen:

the thing that he could’ve noticed about you first time you met, looking back, was that your love of sweets were obvious from the way you came out of the teahouse with a very satisfied expression. oh, and that you were carrying a bag of candies (which would spill when you bumped into him).

but ever since he’s taken you hostage, you’ve retracted yourself from revealing much about you. understandably so.

still, shingen is very methodical in his prodding at your heart, easing it up and eventually letting some things spill overtime. and one of those methods, of course, is to bring you down to kasugayama’s festive town.

he’s brought up the alternative of, you lose the game if you smile at him, but your stubborn ass said no. now you’re forced to suffer as you bite your lip and not smile as the beauty of kasugayama seeps in.

and shingen watches with delight; not at your indirect suffering, but more of the beauty of how you manage to be so magnificent without smiling.

because, it’s the way your eyes are filled with stars, it might as well be a galaxy’s worth. because, it’s the way your legs seem to float seamlessly from stall to stall, like an innocent child. because, it’s how your hand reaches out to his wrist and lightly tug on it; and it somehow makes him feel as light as feather for you to pull him along.

yet, each time, you retract.

he sees the way you try to restrain yourself from expressing too much when you order practically every single dessert on the menu. he sees how you cover up your face as you scarf down the plates of sweets.

after that, he’s noted to buy some candy or anything to give you.

(and by that he spoils you absolutely ROTTEN you’re lucky you haven’t had a cavity by now)

(^ also serves as an excuse sometimes with yukimura. not that he lets him off much)

you yourself quickly learn about his own liking for sweets, and now you have this sort of alliance to avoid the scolding of yuki. such entails sneaking snacks to each other all the time.

‎

—yukimura:

he’s noticed a pattern, early on, when about 80% of the time you drag him out of his booth, it’s to a teahouse. hell, he even recommends some during your early days in azuchi.

it’s when it becomes so frequent that he starts to scold you and try (mostly end up failing) to minimize your sweets consumption.

in his defense, he thought you were trying stuff out! he says to himself as you order every single item off the list.

again, it doesn’t take long until he sighs and starts pulling you away, slightly berating you on eating that much desserts in the span of a week. his lord is shingen; he’d know how to deal with you.

it’s weird, in a sense. he’s taken the role of an awkward yet caring caretaker when it comes to watching your eating habits. it’s gone from just reminding you each time you drop by his booth (to which you respond with a lighthearted roll of the eyes), to sometimes trailing you once you got closer just so you can’t sneak off on his watch.

and of course, trademark to your bond, it didn’t take long for you two to start bickering about which dessert is better. mugwort mochi vs. chestnut dumpling but on a bigger scale; since you both rarely have the same rankings of the sweets on the list.

you’ve tried the puppy eyes strat a couple of times. in your victory, you did manage to make him sputter and look away, all flustered and caught off guard, but you didn’t get your candy at the end of it :pensive:

strangely enough, at first he could get through and answer you clearly, even if it’s very grumbly. but now, he’s devolved to simply muttering under his breath incoherently as his hand covers his burning cheeks. weird, that hasn’t happened before, you think.

of course, there are some times when he allows you to splurge, such as in festivals and all. it’s too much, the way you look at the special food everywhere with stars in your eyes and drool almost dripping.

(and he himself will admit, he’d be a partypooper if he completely denied you of that enjoyment. if he’s enjoying how absolutely happy and cute you are no he is not what are you talking about)

‎

—kenshin:

you were taught from a young age to always thank someone, whether it’d be simply words, or even an item to show your gratefulness.

however, you don’t,,, exactly know what to do when someone saves your life.

extreme whiplash and shock, you can say. it isn’t just someone helping you with your task, or retrieving something you forgot in your classroom; no, you could’ve been dead if no one intervened.

currently, you’re in the stage of trying to process all that happened and just sitting there, dumbfounded, but you knew you had to do something before the man who saved you walked out the building.

without any time to think twice about it, you grabbed your plate and ran.

you barely manage to catch up to him, and only because you caught a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, turning to a dark alley.

“hey!” you shout, loud enough to attract attention from others, but apparently not the man himself. you could feel the cold energy radiating from his back the more you approach, yet you can’t back down.

you shout to gain his attention again, and you do. the moment the blonde turns around, his sharp eyes laying on you, it was like cold metal pressed against your body.

but you’ve gone too far, and if you just sputtered and went back, it’d be more embarrasing. you thrust your tray of varying sweets sprawled on it to him, “th-thanks for saving my life back there!”

.. and all you can pick up from his reaction is eyebrows knitted in a certain sense that you’re bugging him, but also slight confusion. “i don’t want your thanks,” he says, “and i don’t need your desserts.”

“i don’t care,” you huff in response, “just take it; i’d feel indebted to you if i didn’t do anything.”

yet as you say that, kenshin can see himself the way your hands slightly tremble, as if there’s a difference in what your mind wants with what your body wants, as you give him your tray, and the way your brows pull down a bit, and most importantly, the way your eyes waver.

because in truth. . .you’d die before you give anyone the sweets you want to eat for yourself, but he saved your life!

kenshin doesn’t want to be bothered anymore, and you’re much too stubborn, so he just accepts it with a deep frown.

but soon once he meets you again in sasuke’s presence, and finds your company in a teahouse,,, weirdly pleasant. even if it was just drinking sessions.

though your tastes lean heavily to the sweet sake, he also finds the fact that you have opinions on how different some sake tastes in the slightest sensations, and while he feels that he’d be annoyed if another person did it. . .something felt nice about you rambling and ranking sakes and general desserts in azuchi.

skip to the relationship, mf would spoil you, going back to even when you were held captive. each day then, he’d bring you sweets, every time different and from different teahouses. it’s when sasuke managed to convince him that he’ll kill you by sugar overdose (despite how much you like it).

and now he still; the most frequent places you go out on a date to is, you guessed it, a tea house. or maybe he brought some desserts to just sit on the porch and watch the blazing sun set.

‎

—sasuke:

man has a sharp sense of observation for people to achieve ultimate Socializing, to compensate for his lack of ability to express himself. such is the case when he sees you gasp excitedly and then promptly apologies and (try to) shut up when you pass a dessert booth when he shows you around azuchi.

and he decides to test out this theory, also in an effort to make you more comfortable and relaxed in the sengoku period.

so he does; always leaving you a pack of candies and the like each time he sneaked into the castle, or sometimes when you go down to yukimura’s booth.

soon, he’d be proven right. you always thank him profusely, snatching away the treats so excitedly, like a child. your eyes always shine so brightly, overflowing with happiness as you munch away, sparing no patience nor impulse control in eating every one.

(which would lead to the disappointment that appears on your face as you realize that you’d eaten everything, and that nothing else)

before, he always just,,, bought the desserts at a teahouse. but lately, although you don’t know it most of the time, he begins asking the owner how the do it, the steps of making a certain dish. his charisma sure goes a long way, despite how his face remains stoic and serious.

yukimura is often the witness for this, and he’s always confused each time. sasuke never really showed an interest in cooking or anything, as far as he knows. . .

unfortunately, it isn’t him that ends up finding the reason. it’s you, instead.

once he manages to worm himself inside the azuchi castle to see you, and gaining the trust of certain prominent warlords (mostly hideyoshi), he eventually got permission to enter the kitchen.

again, you didn’t even know where he went. all you heard was from the passing maids that told you they saw him heading in there.

which. . .piqued your interest, but each time you wanted to check, you always had other things you had to do.

but soon, you’d find out what the ninja was up to.

one day, while you were sewing in your room, your nose immediately sniffed out the sweet smell of. . .something familiar.

you perked up in excitement and a bit of confusion. the shadow on the other side of the paper door gave you more hope.

and it slid open, revealing a sasuke with a tray in his hand, and a strange soft gaze in his eyes, “i knew you’d’ve recognized the smell, you truly like these, don’t you?”

his hand sets down the tray gently, and the warm waft of sweet and rich scent floods in your nose. and quickly, you recognize what’s on the tray in the first place.

desserts, but not just any ol’ one. treats and candies made from your home place. a silent gaso broke from you, as you marveled in the dish that you didn’t think you’d see this soon.

“some ingredients had to be improv’d from the lack of variety in those, but,” you look up, and you see that his lips pull into the tiniest bit of a proud smile, “i thought that it’d make you feel a bit like home.”

you sat there, mouth parted slightly and eyes widened, filled with disbelief. chuckles broke through, and you jumped at him, enveloping him in a big hug, “thank you so much, sasuke!!”

you don’t see it, while you’re too busy laughing and wrapping your arms around him tightly. but his expression softens in a way never before, a small dust of pink lighting his cheeks as he breaths out a chuckle and pats your back, “anytime.”

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #cyikemen #ikemen sengoku hc #uesugi-takeda forces #*writing #*requests #sighs FINALLY i finished one #have like. one more to do before i take a break or open it again #woooooot

52 notes · View notes

kiriluvbot · 3 years

Text

lvr boy

todoroki has a rough day, and sero attempts to make him feel better. both boys figure out that distractions aren’t always the answer to emotional distress.

—

han !!: hey shou i saw u leave dinner early are u ok?

shou <3: yeah, just a bit drained. sorry i left without saying anything.

han !!: hun u don’t need to apologize, i jus wanna make sure ur doin ok !!

han !!: is there anything i can do?

shou <3: come over ?

han !!: u bet, On my way!

han !!: ive got an idea to cheer u up bb

and that’s how hanta sero got to be hanging from his tape on the rafters directly outside shouto todoroki’s room, over his balcony.

han !!: i’m outside <3

don’t ask him how the physics works; he doesn’t know either. hanta imagined what it must be like to be the fictional american hero, spiderman, and tried to stick his tape from the most secure place on the roof and dangled downward, getting into position as fast as he could so he’d be ready when shouto peeled open the door leading to his balcony.

except he hadn’t exactly said he would be on the balcony.

and it’s cold outside. hanta shivers as a rush of wind sends him waving like a flag outside shouto’s room. he feels more and more ridiculous the longer he sits—dangles?— here, with all the blood rushing to his head. what's taking shouto so long?

inside, shouto is peering into the hall, looking for a familiar head of dark hair. he’s tired. he needs hanta to be able to properly recharge. he misses hanta. he sort of wants to cry, sort of wants to melt into the floor, sort of wants hanta to sweep him up and make him forget everything else in the world.

he frowns when he finds no one outside his door. “hanta?”

where is he?

shouto glances over his shoulder, at the doors leading to his balcony, at the thick curtains blocking out the moonlight.

surely not...

but it’s hanta, and he had said he’d be outside. hanta comes up with the craziest ideas sometimes. but how could he have gotten out there?

shouto shakes his head once, crosses the room with apprehension. pulling back the curtain, shouto nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of hanta sero outside his door, hanging upside down with a tight grip on his tape, the widest, goofiest smile on his face.

shouto slides open the door, the rush of cool wind sending goosebumps crawling over his skin. even being this close to hanta makes him stand up a little taller, already absorbing energy to start recharging. he’s a magnet. hanta is a ball of pure, unhinged light and love. hanta is a source of comfort, a place to come home to. shouto can’t stop his growing smile as it mirrors hanta’s own.

“there you are,” shouto breathes. that overwhelming weight that just kept building through the day starts to lay off, little by little.

“how’s this for a surprise?” hanta’s waving a bit in the wind. his cheeks, nose, and ears are dusted pink. inky black hair waves with him, curling at the ends. his eyes are dark pools full of stars, full of adoration, full of mischief.

shouto could—should—kiss him.

“i’m always surprised with you, hanta,” shouto says, laughing lightly as he steps out of his room, bare feet on the wood of the balcony. they’re close to eye level, and shouto raises his hands, almost unsure, and presses them to hanta’s grinning cheeks.

“gotta keep my boy on his toes, you know?” hanta tries to lean in the closer shouto gets like a moth to a flame, curious eyes searching shouto’s face for any tells of fatigue, of sickness, of sadness. he only finds sleepy awe. “gotta change things up every now and then.”

the two toned boy plants a ghost of a kiss to hanta’s forehead. it’s not enough. “this must be a spiderman thing,” shouto muses. “i know how much you like that guy.”

“naturally. he’s the coolest,” hanta giggles at that, and shouto’s fractured heart starts to mend. his cracked facade from spending the whole day strung out, anxious for nothing, begins to crumble at his feet. hanta has a knack for pulling shouto completely apart, for piecing him wholly together, for taking the pressure off shouto’s shoulders, even if it’s just for a little while.

“i remember the movie we watched together,” shouto hums, thumbs grazing over hanta’s cheekbones. “there was a scene similar to this, right?”

hanta’s skin burns under his fingers. shouto watches his adam’s apple dip as he swallows. “something like it, yeah.”

shouto meets his eye, recognizes that mischievous look flickering over his features. he chases the light, takes in every single detail of hanta’s face, every detail he has memorized like constellations at this point, every detail he wants to place a kiss to, every detail he never gets tired of.

then, shouto gets on his tippy toes and tilts forward, holding hanta’s face, and kisses his lover boy, slow and sweet. it’s strange kissing someone upside down, but hanta kisses him back like he’s been anxiously waiting for it to come, like he’ll never get enough.

it’s not enough.

when shouto pulls back, hanta is smiling again, dizzy and red faced. in a single, fluid movement, hanta flips and releases the hold on his tape. he lands, steady on his feet in front of shouto, wind blown hair framing his face like a priceless painting. his grin, his pure, radiating joy and goodness outshines the moon, as if the sun instead resides inside his chest.

he’s too good for me.

hanta’s eyes widen as shouto takes his reddening hands and kisses those, too. kisses his palms. his knuckles. shouto has always loved hanta’s hands; clever and sneaky hands, sure and gentle hands.

he knows the patterns of hanta’s hands like the back of his own, knows the life lines, the callouses, the old scar between his middle and pointer finger knuckles. he knows the pattern of all his moles and freckles and the way they creep up his arms, up his neck, down his chest like a fairy danced to their favorite song over his skin.

after a sharp intake of breath, hanta asks, “are you alright, shou?”

not really. i’m asking for a distraction. do you think a distraction will make it all go away? all this pressure on my chest?

the sincerity of his voice causes shouto to stop in his tracks.

i didn't sleep well at all. i had a nightmare about failing the hero course. i was late to class.

he looks up, blue and gray falling on gravitational black.

i got a 60 on our history test today and i locked myself in the bathroom for three minutes trying to remind myself it’s just one single test.

hanta’s smile is dipping.

bakugo was yelling more than usual. aizawa and iida both told me i was off my game. i spilled my drink in my lap at lunch.

he grips shouto’s fingers and pulls him closer. always closer.

i had to cancel my plans with my mom this friday to retake the test i bombed. i cried after we got off the phone.

shouto has to tilt his head up. hanta sure has gotten tall.

he feels childish trying to explain why literally nothing had gone his way today, why every small thing made him want to curl up and cry for hours. “just—today was a bit overwhelming. everything going wrong and getting too loud, you know? but i’m feeling better.”

now that you’re here.

when hanta leans into his space again, shouto unconsciously warms up the air around them.

“do you wanna talk about it?”

my coffee spilled over the edge of the cup this morning and hurt my fingers and i had to sit on the floor for six and a half minutes trying to suck the tears back into my eyes.

“not really,” shouto answers. it’s not a lie.

“you’re sure?”

his breath is warm on shouto’s face, eyes wide and sincere.

“i’m sure.”

if we talk about it i’m almost certain i’ll cry again.

hanta seems to buy it. his lip ticks upward just a notch. that curiosity turns sly as he releases shouto from his hold, as his hands dance up and over the shorter boy’s shoulders, over his shoulder blades, down his spine.

“totally sure?”

the space between is no space and too much all at once. it’s not enough.

“absolutely sure.” just kiss me already, you maniac.

finally, finally, hanta’s lips find his own, right side up and certain. stars explode in shouto’s chest, behind his eyes. supernova as his fingers dip into hanta’s hair, as he melts under the attention and contact, on his tippy toes.

all too soon, hanta pulls back, humming all the while. shouto nearly pouts at the loss until hanta dips down, those searching hands taking shouto’s thighs.

oh.

the smaller boy squeaks, though he’ll always deny it later, as hanta picks him up and wraps shouto’s legs around his waist.

oh.

he’s… carrying him.

this is new.

“we’re goin’ inside,” is the only explanation hanta offers. his head whips back up in a flurry of glittering hair and a puckish grin. always glittering. always grinning.

shouto holds on tightly, arms around around hanta’s shoulders. he keeps his mouth shut for fear of saying something completely stupid. hanta is talking, though shouto’s been too focused on the muscles of his back beneath his hands to really know what he said. his chin presses into shouto’s collar. shouto wishes it were his lips instead. god.

still holding on to shouto, with those goddamn hands on shouto’s thighs—i’m gonna die—hanta shuts the door and closes the curtain like he’s seen shouto do a thousand times during his nightly shut in routine. shouto considers asking to be let down but—but his hands on his thighs—i’m gonna die, i’m gonna die, this is where it ends—

hanta’s shampoo smells like grapefruit. his hair brushes shouto’s cheek. he wants to bury his face in it, wants to move it to the side and explore every freckle dusting his smooth skin, wants to kiss every single place he can reach—good god, he’s gonna die.

then, incredibly, horribly, boldly, hanta sits at the edge of shouto’s bed. he readjusts so shouto is sitting properly in his lap, legs still wrapped around his waist. those goddamn hands slide down the sides of shouto’s thighs, over the fabric of his pajama shorts, just barely grazing exposed skin, like hanta knows. shouto lifts his head from the crook in hanta’s neck to finally get a good look at him in this soft lighting.

hanta’s cheeks are still painted pink.

there’s so much contact. broad shoulders beneath his hands. solid chest if he drags his hands down. narrow waist if he goes even further, strong abs from swinging through the air and keeping his balance. his hands on shouto’s thighs.

any and all rational thoughts shouto may have had exit stage right.

“this okay?” he asks.

shouto responds with a single nod of his head. he’s distracted, alright.

that’s a good enough answer for hanta. the raven haired boy pressed forward once again, closing the gap, aiming for shouto’s lips but landing right next to them. shouto can feel his smile against his skin. his chest is tight, his fingers subconsciously twisting the ends of hanta’s wavy hair.

everything slows down.

“there’s a dimple here when you smile, you know?” hanta murmurs, a cold pointer finger tapping the spot just to the left of his mouth. he kisses that spot. it’s horribly and surprisingly tender, plucking shouto’s weakened heart strings. “have i ever told you how much i love that dimple?”

“i don’t think so.” his head tilts back.

his lips dip beneath shouto’s jaw. “what about this? surely i’ve told you how much i love this.” his kiss is warm, his laughter tickling as he says, “the freckles here look like the little dipper.”

shouto’s eyes flutter closed as lips press under his ear.

“the little dipper, hm?”

hanta hums and shouto can feel it vibrate through his chest. he pulls back a bit, brings shouto’s scarred hero-in-training hands up to his lips and kisses all ten fingers, all ten knuckles, slowly, making sure not to skip a single one.

“and your hands,” hanta murmurs, thumb rubbing circles on the soft part of shouto’s palm. “i love how capable and powerful they are, how you can create and destroy, how you still choose to be gentle.” a kiss touches down on his right palm, a strike through his heart. the sweetness makes shouto’s teeth ache.

there’s a smirk in his voice when hanta speaks again. “and these,” he says, breath startling warm and close to shouto’s collarbones, peeking out of his t-shirt. fingers dip into the fabric, pulling down just a bit. shouto sucks in a breath as lips land true on the bone. “always wanted to kiss you here, you know?”

what took you so long to do it?!

the part of shouto’s brain that was working to create coherent thoughts is in system shut down mode. he basks under the attention, under the light, under the worship of hanta sero, of his boyfriend, of his best friend. he basks and he melts, completely unsure of how to take it, how to accept it.

“and this—“ there’s a small birthmark at the very base of shouto’s neck hanta has wanted to kiss since they were first years. so he does. “love this here.”

every single bit of you, shouto todoroki.

there’s a pause that makes shouto open his eyes and search for hanta.

the taller boy could carry on all night, reaching out for every small inch of shouto todoroki that he’s in love with and explaining exactly why he loves each minuscule detail of it, but he pauses.

shouto’s brows dip, hesitant.

hanta came here to make sure he was okay.

he holds the gaze of the boy in his lap, of the boy he’s loved since he was fifteen, of the boy he’ll love until he passes on from this world to the next. there’s a blurry daze in his blue and gray eyes, but an ever deeper exhaustion pulls at all his edges. hanta can sweep shouto off his feet left and right, tell him all these lovely things and kiss him until he can’t see straight, but those things are merely temporary distractions.

i’m alright, i promise.

he tilts his head, and his smile is almost sad.

you’re not alright, i saw it in the way you tapped your foot in class, the way you pressed your icy fingers into your forehead, the way you avoided your table at lunch. i saw it in the way you were completely silent during practice, the way you wouldn’t engage in banter with bakugo, the way you couldn’t seem to sit still at dinner. i saw it in the way you left early, in the hectic, cracked state you were in when i got here, when you opened the door.

“hanta?” his voice cracks. shouto thinks, i don't deserve this affection. this appreciation. not from someone as good as you. you deserve—someone who isn’t ready to sob when you tell him you love something about him. hanta—

hanta presses his hand flat against shouto’s chest—no, his heart. he sees the way shouto chews on the inside of his cheek, the way his multicolored lashes flutter.

“i love you here, shouto,” hanta says. “when everything is too much and too loud. when you feel like nothing is going your way, when a split coffee cup feels like the end of the world.”

shouto’s lip purses, blinking furiously. his hands twist into the front of hanta’s shirt as the smaller boy falls forward, collapsing onto hanta’s shoulder with little grace.

“‘m sorry,” is the only thing shouto can muster.

hanta wraps an arm around him, pulls him as close as they can get. his lips press to shouto’s temple, to the stray strands of ruby locks there. “you don’t need to apologize, shou.” his shirt collar is wet. “sometimes… sometimes you just need to talk, you know? you need to let it out instead of leaving it unchecked.”

shouto’s heart pounds against hanta’s chest.

“you asked for a distraction. i should be saying sorry for getting all sappy,” hanta kisses his temple again, feels shouto’s shoulders begin to shake.

shouto laughs at that, small and weak and breathless. i needed to hear it. more than i thought i did. more than you know.

in truth, today isn’t the only awful day the two toned boy has had recently. it’s been every single day, one after the other, but he refused to acknowledge how tired and just plain sad he felt. he thought that if he pulled hanta into his bedroom and closed his eyes, it would go away with time.

and then the coffee burnt his fingers this morning.

that was the final shove. the final push to send shouto hurtling over the edge, stressed and strung out and overwhelmed. he just needs a break. a healthy, peaceful break that doesn’t involve reaching too far or doing something he might regret. he needs to plug in and recharge, to lay it all out on the table and sort through his troubles, to piece himself back together and get back to normal.

hanta hugs him tighter.

and now his resolve and control is cracking and spilling out, through his veins and his bones, through his heart and his eyes. he holds onto hanta like his life depends on it, letting it all out, finally giving in, finally letting go. distraction wasn’t the answer; he could only forget for so long, as more things piled on until it crushed him.

sometimes the world is too much, too loud.

shouto cries into hanta’s shoulder until there's nothing left. until he feels at peace. until he falls asleep in hanta’s arms.

he dreams of hanta with cherry blossoms in his hair, that same glittering grin on his face.

—

*drops this and runs a thousand miles in the other direction”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29825064

16 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 3 years

Note

So I realized that I don't know much about you. So it was very difficult for me to write a fic with you in it. But I did write something that hopefully brings you a little bit of joy. It's got a little bit of degradation, a little bit of jealousy, and your requested moan muffling. Oh yeah and a whole heck of a lot of SMUT!!!! So here we go again imagine with me:

You had ignored his calls all day to get revenge for him picking up that extra patrol. He had promised you that you would spend the day together but he had accepted anyway. Keigo had one rule. Only one and that was to answer when he called. Your safety was his top priority and he needed that reassurance throughout the day. He'd check in to make sure you'd eaten, taken your meds, and stayed safe and healthy. You were so mad at him for ruining your day together. You'd decided to rebel on this particular day. He'd gotten one simple text from you today "sorry I'm busy see you at home." This was after about fifteen phone calls and three text messages. After that you'd left your angry birdman on read.

He had found you out with friends on his way home and he'd walked in to the restaurant. You were laughing at a joke your friend Denki had told and touched his arm. This sent his jealousy into over drive and when you heard that familiar jovial voice behind you say " Hey there baby bird" you had frozen. He was wearing his signature hero smile, but you knew better. Keigo was fucking furious. You didn't protest as he scooped you up and said "we have a date guys sorry, she'll catch up with you later." He flew you straight to the balcony of your apartment and practically threw you inside. Oh god were you in for it.

"I thought that we had a 'date' Keigo" you asked innocently.

"We do. With the fucking bedroom. Looks like I'll have to fuck some manners into you" He smirked as his feathers bound your hands and his big beautiful arms scooped you up again to carry you to the bedroom.

He dropped you onto the bed and you saw pure rage radiate back at you from those beautiful golden orbs. His feathers made quick work of Shredding your favorite outfit causing you to groan in protest. He mounted you and silenced you with a violently passionate kiss.

"You did this to yourself baby bird" He flipped you over and brought your ass up while pushing your back into a painful arch and shoving your face into the mattress with force.

"Now bratty little sluts only get to cum when Daddy says so." With that he shoved two fingers deep inside filling you with desire. You were already practically dripping from anticipating this all day.

" kei-"

"shut the fuck up. Look at you, you filthy whore dripping and slick. It was that yellow haired bitch that got you all hot and bothered wasn't it?" He growled as he started a brutal pace using his other had to stimulate your puffy bundle of nerves.

" Na- No Kei... Only you, kei I..." You could barely formulate a sentence as he started hitting that sweet spongy spot within your core at a intense and almost bruising pace. your moans were echoing through the bedroom and you felt your release approach without warning as you released all over his hands.

SMACK!!! Keigo slapped your ass so hard that your hips dropped.

" Who said you could cum huh?" He flipped you over to face him

"and I'm not even close to done with you baby bird. You've been making all those loud pretty noises for the whole world to hear. All I've done is finger you. We wouldn't want to upset Pikachu with those loud moans now would we?" He wedged your legs open with his knees. Then began unclasping his belt and unzipping his zipper shimming his pants down to reveal a very hard, throbbing, and veiny member. Your eyes got wide.

"Ready princess? You nodded and closed your e/c eyes.

He thrust into you with full force. Keigo was usually one to tease but he was far too worked up for that right now. All he could think about was the sight of you completely fucked out and drooling when he finished with you. He waited a moment for you to adjust and then began to do that beautiful dance. Summoning some extremely graphic moans and screams from you.

"Feel good angel?" He said with a smirk as he pounded into your sweet spot. All you could manage was a nod and a moan. His pace was precise and it was like he was reading your moans. He reached down and began to rub your sensitive spot with vigor and intent.

"AHHHH DADDY RIGHT THERE AHHHHHH I CAN'T---" He slapped his hand over your mouth to muffle you screams.

" Shut up! We don't want the entire city to get jealous now do we?" He whispered into your ear as he continued to fuck you into absolute Oblivion with his hand still clasped over your mouth. You approached your second high and moaned to signal your request.

" Aww you wanna cum all over this cock angel?" He growled. You just looked up nodding and moaning.

"Okay angel together then,....... fucking come" you both reached your high. Keigo cursed as he released into your pulsating sex. It felt like you were sucking him in with a death grip on his dick as he released scalding hot ribbons of his love into you. He painted your insides white claiming you as his once again.

He collapsed next to you pulling you to his chest. He had accumulated quite a bit of sweat during your session. His beautiful golden locks had fallen to his forehead and were now sticking to it.

"I hope that you know I love you angel. Im sorry that I ruined our day and I'm sorry that I'm such a jealous bastard." He moved your hair out of your face and examined you. Your pupils were huge and your body was glistening in the sunsets light that crept through the window. Every curve and every dip was beautiful to him. It was like you were designed to be his. " Fuck baby bird you're so damn beautiful like this."

.........................................................................................

I hope that you like this I wrote it for you to show my appreciation. I'm sorry I sent these anonymously I just don't have a whole lot of confidence in my writing skills. I really hope that you liked it. I found your Tumblr during a really low point in my life. You're writing helped me through a lot and I really appreciate everything you do. I cannot express enough how amazing it's been to have that writing to go back to. I also apologize because this smut got a lot filthier than I intended 🥺 I hope that you have the absolute best day today.

-Imaginon

imagion this is such a TREAT!!!!!! thank u for the inbox blessing!!!! i rlly needed this today :’’’’^) some nice lil horny brat energy for a Friday night <333

thank u my dear, i adore this and u!!!!!!!

#salem answers #I AM CRYING #thank u for writing this for me my dear!!!!!!!#Anonymous

29 notes · View notes

crowdedimagines · 4 years

Text

Yellow Sundress - Harry Styles

helloooo this is really flully and cute about harry admiring a beautiful stranger and everything! 2.9 k 💖

h a r r y ‘ s p o v

I see her yellow dress before anything else. The bells ringing at the top of the door and the bright yellow are successful in pulling me out from the world on the pages in front of me. Even from where I am tucked back in the corner of the cafe, she’s striking. I take in all of her features, her smile being the next thing to captivate me.

She walks up to the barista with a bounce in her step, they greet her with a smile. She brightens up everyone’s day. It’s a sunny day today, but she’s shining brighter. I can’t hear what she says, but it manages to make them all laugh. The grin never fades from her face even slightly. It seems like they’re just as affected by this girl as I am. I didn’t even realize I was smiling along with her until my cheeks started to burn.

She grabs her drink at the end of the counter and I pray that she’s staying. I haven’t quite built up the courage to chase this mystery girl down the street. I don’t know how far I would get with that. I’m sure if I did she would send me off to the looney bin.

She walks further into the cafe, settling on a table on a few away from me. Her hair is tucked into a low bun, pieces escaping it all over, but I’ve seen few sights as beautiful. She reaches to tuck hair back out of her face, but they don’t stay so she repeats the task without realizing.

She looks around the cafe, my eyes dart down quickly to the book that I’ve been paying little attention to at this point. If she caught me staring she doesn’t reveal it. She simply slides off her jean jacket and settles it on the back of her chair. She pulls a well-worn book out of her purse and begins to blow on her drink. She’s reading quickly, flipping through the pages as time passes.

C’mon Harry. Back to reality. Quit staring...

I think I’ve made it seven whole pages without glancing in her direction, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have my attention. I can’t seem to knock her out of my head.

Who is she? I’m dying to know. Is she always this friendly? I pray she is. Does she come here often? I’m sure she does, she seems comfortable here.

I’m too busy in my own head to notice that she’s getting up, pulling her jacket along with her. She says goodbye to the baristas and compliments them on the drink. All too soon, she’s walking out the door and taking all of her sunshine with her.

She stays in my head for a while longer. I don’t think I’ve ever grown so curious about a person without ever even exchanging a word with or knowing them. It takes a week for us to come in at the same time again.

I wasn’t planning to see her, even though I’m sure I sat here a little longer than I have in past visits. She comes in today with just as much light to her. Her yellow dress is gone, but replaced with a loose white peasant top and a pair of jeans. My eyes drift down to her shoes, white converse with what I’m sure she’s done herself, yellow flowers painted on them.

I’ve never come across a person who can radiate a color so strongly in even the smallest ways.

It’s emptier today so she takes her drink to the window. It’s a small cafe, there’s only a handful of us here right now. She’s wearing headphones today as she pulls out a book different from the last. She isn’t focused on it through as she keeps getting distracted by people passing by.

“Oh my god!” She cheers. It’s the first time I’ve actually heard her voice and it matches her perfectly. She runs out the door, leaving her bag and drink on the table. I stand up in my spot with concern.

As soon as I take a few steps I see what has her attention. A dog. Someone walking by with a very cute dog. She’s nearly on the ground with it as she showers it with affection. Soon enough she’s thanking the girl with the leash and she comes back inside. I don’t even think she knew her, she just got that excited. Excited enough to scream out loud on a cafe.

“Did you see that puppy?” She grins, talking to the barista.

The barista nods as he wipes the table next to her.

“I swear if I didn’t live in an apartment, I would have an entire shelter by now.”

She sighs and slowly puts her headphones back in and resumes her book. It’s my turn to leave, I have meetings that fill the rest of the day and I don’t want to risk being late. Even if it means no longer seeing the mystery girl.

I walk past her table at the window and give her a small smile when she looks up. My steps falter for a half second at the eye contact, I quickly push the door open and leave before I can convince myself to cancel everything for the rest of the day.

I still have yet to figure out the schedule of the cafe. The days vary in popularity. Today looks like a busy one, as soon as I open the door I’m met with a line. Mystery girl wasn’t in the window which is unfortunate.

I take a step forward to make room as someone else comes in behind me, joining the line. I bump into the person in front of me, I was too busy looking around for the familiar face.

“Sorry.” I mumble.

“No worries.”

I recognize her voice before my eyes catch her. It’s her, right in front of me. So close I can see the light freckles on her face. She smells like honey and lemon. Clean and welcoming. You’ve got to be kidding me, she smells like sunshine too? How is anyone supposed to resist that?

“I think I’ve seen you here a few times.” She says over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ve just recently started coming here. I quite like it, I’m thinking of becoming a regular.” I smile.

I’m not surprised I didn’t recognize her. She’s wearing a large brown teddy fleece today with a pair of leggings. It looks comfortable, but not what her typical attire consists of. The only trace of yellow is chipped on her fingernails.

“This is my favorite spot in L.A.” She turns to actually look at me now, “At least for coffee. I haven’t found a spot that feels this comfortable. It makes me happy here.”

She takes a step forward as it’s her turn to order. At least this place makes her as happy as she does for the people around her.

I pick up my drink at the end of the counter and look around for a spot to sit. It’s truly packed today, I think I’m going to have to take it to go today. I do this sometimes, but it pains me that this is a day I have time to relax.

“You can join me if you’d like.” Her voice cuts through my thoughts. “I managed to steal this table, so it’s only fair that I share.”

I happily pull out the chair opposite her. She pulls her stuff to her side to clear room for me.

“I’m Y/n by the way.” She introduces herself with a wide smile.

Y/n.

“Harry.” I greet back.

She smiles once again before looking down. I pull out my own book from my back pocket. Wordlessly, we both jump into our own books. Having her right here in front of my somehow makes it easier for me to focus. At least now she knows that I exist, I can live with that.

“I think you’ve got some fans.” She whispers.

I look up to see where she’s looking over my shoulder. There’s a group of girls that look a bit younger than her staring intently at us. They whisper back and forth and point a few times. I roll my eyes and turn back to face Y/n.

“I hope this doesn’t catch on. I’m really starting to like this place.”

“Yeah, can’t have you ruining my favorite cafe.” She teases.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I smile.

We both go back to our books.

It’s a full week before I see her again. I had too much going on with album stuff and press that making an appearance wasn’t possible. Today has been my first opportunity to go out and get my own coffee.

The bells ring and I look up out of habit. Most of the time it leads to disappointment, but finally it’s her.

She’s wearing the yellow sundress.

She has it styled differently than the first time I saw her wear it. I can tell it must be one of her favorite items of clothing.

“Good morning, Harry.” She slides into my booth with me.

I can’t fight off a smile.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

She doesn’t say a word about how she’s sitting with me today. It’s empty right now. Her usual table is empty, there’s only two or three other people in here right now.

“I just thought I saved you a spot last time, you could do me a favor this time.” She bites her bottom lip. She’s gauging my reaction. She’s flirting.

“Now I know for next time.” I smirk.

“I don’t have a book today.” She states.

“Ohh, so that’s why you’re sitting with me?” I laugh, “Looking for a form of entertainment?”

“No!” She defends with a laugh of her own, “I left it in my car and I could go grab it from my car outside, but if I have to go all the way out there I might as well just leave.”

She starts to slide out of the booth, testing me and teasing me. Baiting me into asking her to stay.

She’s good.

“Wait, wait-” I laugh, “You can stay.”

I close my book.

“You like yellow.” I state.

Her grin widdens and her cheeks take on a pink hue.

“I do like yellow.” She agrees, “Lucky guess?”

“You are almost always wearing yellow. You seem to be partial to this dress.”

“Have you been watching me, Harry Styles?” She leans forward. I’ve picked up that whenever she’s trying not to laugh or grin she bites down on her lip, like she’s doing right now. I think it’s hard for her not to smile, that’s why she does it so much.

“You are hard to miss, Y/n.” I admit.

She blushes again, proving just how much she doesn’t see her beauty. She’s humble and sweet. I’m not the only one here who recognizes her beauty from day to day, yet she’s oblivious to it all.

After that day, we always sat with whoever got there first. It’s been weeks of us meeting up, some days we spend our hour talking, others we both read together wordlessly. I like talking better, but even just being around her is good enough. Her energy is contagious. After spending time with her, I smile for the rest of the day.

The day when our friendship evolved into more is one I will never forget. She was late, something that is common for her, but really late. Later than usual. I was actually concerned with her whereabouts. Sending her a few texts to make sure she’s alright.

Suddenly the bells jingle. Y/n makes her grand entrance, completely soaked. She walks over to me without even getting herself a drink.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” She huffs out of breath, “It’s pouring out there! Everyone is driving like they’re mad! Then it took forever to find a parking spot and I had to run like a mile to get here.”

I let out a laugh and inform her to sit while I get her a drink. When I come back she’s shed her coat and has wiped the droplets off her face. Her hair is still dripping. She’s got a yellow sweater on today that I’m sure I haven’t seen before.

“I swear, I could fill a whole cup right now.” She gestures to her hair, “I love the rain, but this is something else.”

She shakes her head and I can’t help, but admire her. Each day I spend with her, I fall a little deeper. She’s magnetic.

“Here.” I reach to hand her her usual drink.

“Thank you!” She takes a sip as I slide into my spot across from her.

“New sweater?” I smirk, taking a sip of my own.

“Yes in fact it is.” Y/n says proudly.

“Of course it’s yellow.”

“Did you see my boots?” She cheers, before I can even answer she swings her leg up high enough for me to see. Yellow rain boots.

“Very fitting, love em.” I grin.

“It’s not very often in Los Angeles that I get to take them out so today’s an exciting day!” And just like that she’s forgotten all of her complaints about the rain from a few minutes previous.

We’re the only people in right now. Not many people out and about looking to get coffee it would seem. The baristas look bored as they clean, trying to just pass the time. I’m trying to do the opposite, enjoy every last second with Y/n.

“It’s like a ghost town.” I say looking around.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so empty when it’s not closing.” She looks around,

“You know what that means?” She suddenly smirks.

I furrow my brows in confusion muttering a simple ‘what’.

“I can finally do this.” She leans forward without a second of hesitation to connect our lips. It’s something I’ve wished for for a while now, but I’ve never had the guts to do myself. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin this perfect part of my life. Now, Y/n’s lips are pressed against mine. She was right about the timing. There are no people here trying to sneak pictures of us, no fans. We both trust the baristas who we are now both close to. It’s hard not to when you come in as often as we now do.

My hand is reaching out to her cheek, pulling her in a little closer. Her hair is still wet and cold, but her lips are just as warm as her personality. It’s a soft kiss, we’re still in public, but there’s still fire to it. My lips buzz at the contact. Her famous smile is pressed against my own. All too soon she’s pulling away so she can sit back down.

“Finally.” She sighs.

“What?” I huff, out of breath, still reeling from what happened previously.

“C’mon, don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about that happening for weeks.”

“I’ve been thinking about that since the first time I saw you walk through those doors.”

“Then why didn’t you make a move?” She questions, taking a sip of her drink. She’s not accusing, just curious.

“I wanted to give you time to catch up. Ever since that day, you have consumed me completely. You are sensational and I wasn’t sure if I could live up to that. You are the most lively person I have ever come across, just being near you lightens my mood. You are yellow. You are yellow and that scares me because I don’t want to be the person to change that.”

“You’re Harry Styles.” She laughs.

“And you’re perfect.” I tease right back.

She rolls her eyes

“I wanted you to be sure about me, and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to dampen your yellow.”

“Harry, you could never dampen my yellow.” She reaches her hand across the table to mine, “If anything, you amplify it. You make me happier than you could ever imagine. You make me yellow.”

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“I would love to.” She smiles, her cheeks turning their perfect shade of pink. I lean in to pull her in for another quick kiss. I’ve finally had a taste of her lips and I don’t want to forget them any time soon, not that I think I ever could.

“Yes!” “Finally!’

We both turn to see the baristas watching us. They managed to catch the whole thing.

“I knew it!” The girl cheers. “I was the one who said she was going to make the first move though!” He argues.

We both laugh at their reaction. Of course after all this time they’ve picked up on what was going on.

“You have to do me one favor though.” I tease, turning my attention back to Y/n.

“And what would that be?” She bites back a smirk of her own.

“Wear the yellow sundress.”

PLZ COMMENT THOUGHTS! PT 2? IDK I HOPE YOU LOVED THIS BC IT’S SO SOFT AND CUTE

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles

439 notes · View notes

tae-cup · 4 years

Text

Cupid’s Blind Eye | Of Eternity and Euphoria (3)

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Summary: A demigod looking for love meets the god of love himself.

Warnings: N/A. This might be the fluffiest one so far. wait I lied it’s not fluffy at all. It’s really angsty. I’m sorry.

Word Count: 5.4k words

A/N: I have a lot of ideas for this series. So much so, I’m ignoring my other series. Like Hamartia and The Pact which I was s u p p o s e d to start by now. Smh this is what happens when I have too many ideas. I’m planning a spin off series for a Male!reader for this...I also wanted to tie this more into the overarching plot, but it’s okay, I’ll get you more park jimin okay. Consider me your supplier.

AS:ASJFLKWJQ:W it deleted my first draft >:(

Other:

Series Masterlist

Normal Masterlist

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged cupid painted blind - William Shakespeare

Your knees hurt already. It had been all of 15 minutes, but the gravel under your legs wasn’t exactly comfortable. You had spent the last hour praying for the god of love to show himself and you fell to your knees desperately in the last 15.

“Oh, god of love.” You drawled sarcastically, ready to leave the dilapidated altar. “Answer my prayers.” You practically rolled your eyes, sick of this nonsense.

You stood slowly, realizing he probably wasn’t going to show himself any time soon. You swiped the gravel off your knees, not noticing the presence behind you.

“You should know not to be so disrespectful to your gods, darling.” A sly voice called. You froze. No way. When you turned to look, a man leaned against the pillars of the altar. He radiated lust and love, an inhuman aura. There was no doubt this was the god of love, lust, and passion.

And unlike him, you radiated a sort of pure aura; compared to him, of course. It drove him mad.

“Oh.” You were at a loss for words. His build was literally of the gods and his face, oh his face. You couldn’t find a single flaw in his face. From his adorable nose to his plump lips. You found yourself staring at his features for way longer than necessary. He smirked. This was a typical response to his appearance.

“Why do you seek me out?” He stepped forward, peering into your eyes.

“I want to know my soulmate.” You clenched your fists. Everyone you knew already found theirs. Your friend, Jennie, had explained that the god of love had helped her, but you didn’t believe her. You thought she was pulling your leg. The god quirked his head to the side.

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Because I’m sick of being alone.” You admitted, mouth feeling awfully dry as you nervously shifted from foot to foot.

His gaze softened, heart thumping.

“You won’t be alone forever.”

“It feels like it sometimes.”

“You’re a demigod.” It suddenly clicked. Your blatant disrespect of the gods, the odd aura surrounding you. Almost godly, but not quite. Not many demigods had a good connection to the gods. They were often cast aside, looked over, thought of as wannabes when many just wanted to live their lives. His altar wasn’t any different than the other crumbled ones around, the only indicator was the Greek letters above, but only a demigod would be able to read that.

“And you’re a god. I’ve come to learn that it doesn’t matter who you are, we all die in the end.” You frowned, thinking of your godly parent, one that had faded a long time ago, sentenced to eternal darkness for the atrocity of giving birth to you. However, being a demigod came with its perks. As long as you stayed healthy, you had longer lifespans while staying youthful. You had stopped aging around 25, but now you were around 60. You would likely begin aging around 100 and then die around 200. You had lived a long life so far without finding love. At first you thought it was possible, but as the years went on, no one gave you that spark, that burning sensation, that claimed them as your soulmate.

“Listen.” You sighed, “I just want to know if they exist. I’ve spent years searching and I thought fate was supposed to bring us together. Are they to be born in another timeline? Shall we never meet?”

The god of love frowned at your lack of faith in him as a god. He stepped forward, close enough for you to make out his face in detail. He radiated love, lust, and passion. His eyes were intense, but you didn’t find yourself scared. In fact, it was almost comforting. He was the definition of love.

“Do you have so little faith in me? Fate has brought you here.” He gently reached out and touched your shoulder. He just needed to check. It was silly to think that the god of love, could not seem to find his lover. There. That spark, that burn. It spread like a wildfire, consuming your everything. It felt like your atoms had rearranged, yearning to be completed by him.

You couldn’t do anything except stare at him. There was no way you were fated to one of the gods whom you so dearly despised. The gods had abandoned you as a child. Was this some cruel punishment? He softened his expression, taking in your frustrated form. Scared, worried, and anxious were reactions he expected from his soulmate, but anger was not one.

“I don’t have to be with you, you know?” You said bitterly. “I can choose to stay away. Not all soulmates stay together.”

Your words clearly had an effect on him because he nodded and stepped away. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion and hurt flashed across his face.

“I won’t force you to join me, but please reach out if you change your mind. You know where to find me.” He gestured to the altar. He, out of everyone, knew that you could put two perfect people next to each other in a room, but you couldn’t force them to love each other. Love was a tricky thing and Jimin knew it best. “Just ask for Jimin.”

Then he was gone, the wind seemingly taking him away. You rushed forward, looking for that sneaky god, but you couldn’t locate him. You had to admit you felt bad about reacting that way. He didn’t expect this either. With a sigh, you called out to the stones. “I’m Y/N. Lovely to meet you, Jimin.”

And of course he heard you. His eyes trailed your back as you ran back into your small town. It was one of the last towns who truly believed in the gods, that’s why so many had altars up. A smile made his way onto his face. Now it was just wait and see.

“Oh come on. You are way too boring, Jimin.” The fiance (I’m sorry I don’t have accents on this computer >:( ) of Yoongi rolled her eyes.

“___, You must understand, love just doesn’t work like that, You have to let it happen.”

“I bet she wants you to chase after her.” ___ continued. “Here, invite her to the wedding. She can be your plus one!”

“You’re too kind. I fear she may be afraid of the underworld.”

“Didn’t you say she’s a demigod?” Yoongi’s fiance quirked her head to the side. She was a human before a goddess. She had no bias against demigods and Jimin felt she was the best to approach about his encounter.

“Yes.”

“Then I doubt she’ll even bat an eye at the underworld.” She viewed her nails, thanking the workers and standing from the salon. “You came all the way to the human world just so you could whine about your love life to the goddess of the underworld. Seems right.”

Jimin scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. He was at a loss for words, however, and he bit his lip. “I came to you because she seems more human than god and I wanted to know your experience.”

“Well, Yoongi basically kidnapped me, but not really. I just knew I wanted to go with him. Then he and I hit it off from there. I fought with Taehyung, stirred up some shit, and now I’m going to be the downfall of Olympus.”

The other gods didn’t like her joking about the downfall of Olympus, but Jimin could always laugh.

“At least my nails will look good while it happens, yeah?”

The love god laughed along with her and the two walked over to the park. The park, known as Plyosum Park, was a great hotspot of godly energy. It was the quickest and easiest way to get to Olympus.

“Now, I must be going.” She smiled, “But, have you ever thought, Jimin, that she’s no more human than she is god? Maybe she just wants to be treated as the person she is; a demigod. That’s why I don’t think I can help you much. I wish you luck, however.” She sent a small wave to him before ghostly hands reached up and dragged her under.

Jimin sighed. She had a point. He’ll just treat you like any person. He let his wings grow out as he prepared to travel back to Olympus. They were a feathery white with golden flakes scattered in between. Many called him cupid for this, but he preferred the name Eros.

You opened the letter with caution. It had appeared on your desk when you arrived home and it definitely hadn’t been there before. The handwriting looked familiar, though you couldn’t place your finger on it.

Dear Y/N,

I am writing to you today because the god and goddess of the underworld are getting married. They have requested I bring along someone and of course my first thoughts were of you. It would be lovely if you are able to join me, but it’s quite alright if you don’t feel comfortable. Please consider my offer, but I will not hold it against you if you choose not to come.

Best,

Jimin

You had to chuckled at his formal phrasing, but you couldn’t blame him. He wanted to give you space and you respected him for being so cautious to your boundaries. It wasn’t expected of the god. After all, he was a god. He could have just kidnapped you on the spot. Maybe he just understands love doesn’t work like that. That made more sense. You carefully wrote back.

My dearest Jimin,

I would be honored to attend such a momentous occasion. Sadly, I seem to be at a lack of formal wear suitable for this kind of event, what do you suggest?

Best,

Y/N

Of course you had to shoot back with your own formal tone. You hoped he understood the sarcasm in it as you hiked to the only place you knew he visited. His altar was old, crumbling, very un-beautiful for the most beautiful god you knew. Then you remembered that you would be meeting many beautiful gods and goddesses in a short time.

You placed the far messier letter down at his altar and hurried back to the village. Jimin was waiting, hoping to catch you, but you were gone before he could even speak. He bent down and slowly picked up the letter. He hastily tore it open, smiling fondly at your words. It was a shame he didn’t get to see you properly before you rushed off.

It was in your nature, as a demigod, to be skiddish around most things; though you seemed to have more of a fight in you than other demigods. The issue was that demigods didn’t fit in anywhere. The gods despised them and regarded them as abominations, hybrids, wannabes. The humans weren’t much better, fearing anything they considered other. Demigods would rarely be able to rest without being hunted by one group or another.

Jimin looked to the middle distance, thinking about what outfit would best suit you. He wanted you to fit in with the other gods and goddesses. While he was a great believer in “love is love” other gods may try to bring you down simply because you were a demigod. It made him feel ill to think of what terrible things could come your way because of your mother’s mistake, not that you were a mistake. He mentally scolded himself. He was constantly on the fritz of checking himself and making sure he said the right things.

He shook his head, returning to his place in the clouds.

When there was a knock at your door, you jumped in surprise. It was not often that the village people visited you. You lived a lonely existence, but you decided this was fine.

“For: Y/N.” You read carefully, surveying the package on your doorstep. You glanced around, eyes flicking to the house next door and traveling down the empty road. Hurriedly, you grabbed the package and hauled it inside your house, slamming the door shut.

The box was more of a rectangle. It was long and flat and there was no return address. You had a feeling you knew who had delivered it. You walked to the kitchen and grabbed a pair of scissors. Then you approached the package, unsure of how to open it. If this was what you thought it was, you didn’t want to damage it. You gnawed at your lip, brows furrowed in concentration as you painstakingly cut through the thin strips of tape. This is ridiculous, just rip it open. You couldn’t bring yourself to do that, however. You didn’t want to rip the contents. So you continued your work before the box flaps finally undid themselves.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at the dress. It was a light pink, an innocent color. You rushed to your room to try it on. Of course it fit perfectly. It had a tight bodice, hugging the upper half of your body in a flattering way. Then the rest of the material flowed from the bodice. Layers of tulle and silk fluttered to the ground. In the box also came a delicate silver crown, headband, thing. The silver was twisted into delicate branches that curved every which way, forming a sort of bramble. It looked so elegant and graceful. The accessories that came with the dress included silver earrings and bracelets. The most important was a necklace. It was an graceful, thin, silver chain, but at the bottom it was weighed down by a light pink gemstone. It seemed to glow, like a beating heart. You didn’t expect anything less from the god of love. You were stunning.

You couldn’t wait to wear it to the wedding in a few days. Jimin would surely be impressed. You found yourself blushing girlishly at the thought of impressing him. You wanted him to want you. To see his eyes light up when you entered a room. To kiss him. You gently placed your fingers on your lips, thinking of his plush ones on yours. You knew he would oblige you if you asked, but you had only met the once and the soulmate bond was inexplicably strong already. You were worried it would consume you if you let it. Would you still be standing if it did?

Days go by and now you stand at his altar. It’s desolate, looking lonelier than ever before. You shift nervously, having done your makeup to reflect the lightness you were sure he wanted to portray. You knew he was trying to get the other gods to like you and you were still wary of meeting them. However, you promised yourself that you would try, even if the other immortals didn’t. You didn’t want to pace, having already painstakingly made sure your dress wasn’t muddied on the way up. Where is he?

You were beginning to worry. Little did you know, Jimin was freaking out. He was pacing and getting far too worked up for a god.

“Hyung! What if-what if she gets scared and doesn’t want to see me again?” He whined to the sky god. He strutted up and down the hallway that led to his altar. He knew you were there, he could feel it, he just couldn’t bring himself to step through.

“Jiminie, she’s a demigod, she’ll be okay.” Jin squeezed his younger friend’s shoulder. Jimin had trusted Jin enough to tell him about you. He thought of telling Namjoon, longing for the elder’s advice more than anything, but there was something sneaky about that god that held him off.

“What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Why would she show up if she wasn’t interested?”

Jimin ran a hand through his hair and Jin could tell he was about to complain more so he stepped in.

“Hey, you’ll be okay.” He said softly, pushing the god of love towards the door. Who knew that such a suave man was so...scared of love? “If you’re worried about jumping off the deep end and drowning,” Jin had heard that falling for your soulmate often felt that way. “Then it’ll be okay. You’ll learn how to breathe underwater.”

The elder god then took the, now quiet, god by the shoulders and steered him down the hallway. The god of love took one heavy step after another. “Go, you’ll be late otherwise and that won’t do any good to lighten the other gods’ positions on her.” Jin said, almost scolding. The younger god just kept his mouth shut, nodding way too easily to his friend.

“Wait, Hyung-”

“Go.”

Then he was shoved through the doorway.

He stumbled straight into you, hands reflexively reaching out to stable you. You gasped in surprise, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Jimin! I thought you weren’t coming.” You said in a huff. The god stood there sheepishly, scratching his head.

“Right, I’m so sorry, I was...” Honesty is the best in any relationship. “...I was nervous.”

You tilted your head to the side. Usually it was the other way around with all the assholes you’d dated in the past. They were always entitled, never asking you about anything.

“Oh, I see.” You said awkwardly. “Well, it’s getting late.” You drifted off. Then you noticed him staring at you. Your cheeks flushed pink again at his gaze. It was intense, searching, as it took in your outfit. You heard him let out a soft breath.

“You look...ravishing.” He breathed, finally putting into words how he felt. But nothing could describe how you looked. You looked like a goddess. Perfection, beauty, grace, intelligence, all in one. He swallowed, trying to keep himself in check. He held out his hand, “Well?”

You hesitated, looking at his soft hands. Hands that had never worked a day in their lives. You cautiously place your hands in his and he pulled you close.

“Let’s go.” He murmured. How he managed to make two words sound so enticing was lost on you.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms...?” The goddess in front of you purred, holding out her hand. She somehow made it seem condescending. You and Jimin had been glued to the hip since you arrived, but he had briefly left to get drinks, leaving you to fend for yourself. Every god and goddess in the room was intrigued by you. You just kept thinking back to how extravagant the ceremony had been, but you had been more taken with how gracious the bride was. She was so bright compared to the god of the underworld, but somehow they got along.

“Y/N.” You smiled, your lips pressed together. You looked, and in someways were, like a goddess, but everyone knew there was something different. Your impostor syndrome was driving you mad.

“Right.” The feline-like goddess strolled away. You turned, trying to ignore the headache you had, only to bump into another god. He looked startled, jumping back quickly. He had an airy quality of innocence and bright light around him. He was handsome, devilishly so.

“Oh! I’m so sorry.” You exclaimed genuinely, looking at the god with confusion. He had this air of familiarity about him that you couldn’t quite place.

“No, no, it was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He said shyly. Then an arm wrapped around your waist, a drink being handed to you softly. The man before you got visibly more pale at the sight of the god holding you. He didn’t seem scared, just sad, maybe even heartbroken. “Oh, I see.” He nodded quietly, mood doing a whole 180.

Jimin grimaced as he watched the other man retreat. He felt his heart strings tug, but pushed the pained feeling away. You could sense the tension so you carefully unwrapped yourself, taking his hands.

“Let’s dance.” You said softly. You weren’t sure what just happened, but it didn’t feel like your place to pry. As you place your hands on his shoulders and he planted his firmly on your waist, he let out a sigh.

“I know you’re curious, you can’t hide things from me.” He glanced around as you both blended into the crowd of other couples slow dancing. “That was Agape.”

You nodded slowly. That’s why you felt so familiar. Anyone who was close to Eros understood Agape well.

“Is that was he goes by?” You knew Agape to be the innocent love, the first love, and Eros to be a more sexual love, one filled with desire. You also knew that Jimin didn’t go by Eros, he went by Jimin. People often got him mixed up with Agape, claiming him as cupid, but Agape usually handled first love scenarios.

“No.” He said quietly, as if losing his will to speak. “He... he goes by-” He suddenly cut himself off. “Actually, he doesn’t like it when people refer to him by his real name. Just know that I like you now. You don’t need to worry about him.”

You frowned, eyebrows knitting together. “I never thought he would take you away from me? I was just interested.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s been...tension.” He didn’t give you any more explanation so you sought to change the topic.

“Tell me about the other gods.”

He seemed glad to change subjects. Instead, he told you about Seokjin, the friendly sky god who knew of your predicament. Then he went on about his Taehyungie, Kookie, and then his hyungs. You smiled warmly at all his fond remarks, discussing them as if they were his blood relatives. It humanized them, though you weren’t sure if that was intentional on his part. You had just warmed up to the idea of meeting these gods when someone screamed.

It wasn’t a happy scream. It was a blood curdling, ear piercing, shriek. A goddess ran from the entryway, clearly alarmed. You jumped and Jimin’s hold on you tightened.

You could see Taehyung pull his lover closer and Yoongi pushed his wife behind him. Other gods were taking defensive stances, eyeing the goddess warily. She was obviously a low level god, her aura faint and you were sure she was to die out soon. Seokjin carefully approached her like a wounded animal. Being the oldest, he had this responsibility; to meet all threats to his circle with full force.

“Ah, Ms. Lee, what troubles you today?”

The entire room stilled, watching Ms. Lee carefully. Seokjin spoke calmly, but there was a fierceness to his voice, a demanding power.

“We’re under attack up above. They’ll be here any minute!” She was inconsolable. You gripped Jimin’s arm and he held you impossibly closer. And attack? By who? The enemies of the gods were long gone and any god who tried to cause trouble was sure to be eliminated quickly. All the gods seemed troubled except a certain war god.

“Great! Then we’ll go to war!” He shouted, anger in his voice. Being the war god, you were sure it was his natural voice. Jimin started radiating a more dominating aura. You realized then that he had hidden most of it as to not freak you out. Now he glowed a luminescent light pink. You knew he was quite literally a lover, not a fighter.

“Now, now, how do we know this isn’t just a set up?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes, clearly not wishing to discuss war on his wedding night.

“Well either way we’d still be under attack.” The girl beside Taehyung breathed. She had a point, you couldn’t deny that. Jungkook’s eyes met briefly with Taehyung’s lover and you could almost see the spark of tension despite being a little ways away. Taehyung put himself between the two subtly. You had a feeling there was a story there.

“Jimin?” Your voice was a whisper as to not break the very thin surface tension of the room. He squeezed your hand in response to tell you he was listening. “Are we in danger?” Your heart beat rapidly. You knew you were the most human here. You were strong, but you wouldn’t last a second against a god. Okay, scratch that, you might last two seconds, being a demigod, but you were still severely disadvantaged. You didn’t want to a) be a burden and b) be killed.

“I’ll keep you safe, love.” He murmured quietly, leaning down and pressing a kiss on the top of your head. You felt your body heat up, wishing those lips to be on yours. You just nodded along, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Then there was a bang outside and the sound of the guards running. You turned to him. eyes wide.

Taehyung was already pushing his lover and Yoongi’s wife together, having another god usher them somewhere safe. You paused, wanting to join them. You even saw Yoongi’s wife turn and look at you expectantly. All the gods and goddesses who valued their lives were running. There was another bang and it was chaos. Those who had been frozen in place were now running and those who wished to fight were materializing their weapons. Jimin looked between you and the door, clearly debating. You gently pushed him towards his friends, knowing he wouldn’t want to leave his brothers.

Then you pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. He flushed red.

“Maybe you’ll get a kiss on the lips if you come back unscathed.” You joked, winking playfully as if he wasn’t about to go out and face...whatever was behind that entryway door. He didn’t respond, just nodding firmly. You rushed to join the other two women who were considered V.I.P.s because of their status and relationships to the inner circle. As you were ushered out of the room, you heard the door burst open and you prayed Jimin was safe.

You shivered, the dress not doing any good to keep you warm. The women beside you had hardly spoken a word to you except one, who was the bride herself. She had introduced herself to you and then gone quiet. Obviously, she was worried for her new husband. The other woman was shaking like a leaf. You were surprised the relationship between her and Taehyung worked, but you knew love worked in mysterious ways. The bride offered you a small smile, pulling off her pristine white cardigan and handing it to you. You thanked her lowly before resuming your staring contest with the wall.

It was a nice room, a library somewhere even more underground than the underworld. The goddess of the Earth was obviously more wary of you than the one of the underworld. Though, from what Jimin had briefed you on, she had once been a human too. You were all worried sick for your loved ones, of course. No one could think of much else. The constant shouting was driving you over the edge. You just wanted some peace and quiet.

Having always been introverted, you didn’t enjoy crowds for long periods of time. Keeping to yourself and staying out of the way was the best. As much as you disliked the gods, you and the women in the room were sharing a bond. A bond of fear. You were quite the opposite from Jimin in that way. He was a very social person, always going out of his way to talk to people, his words always smooth and graceful. You, on the other hand, were just...there. You stumbled over your words, rambled, and had trouble concealing your emotions as well as him.

There was a knock on the door. You all looked at each other, eyes wide and waiting for the password to be spoken. There was none. It’s not them. You mouthed. The door flew open before you had time to react. You counted your seconds. Two seconds against a god. You had two seconds.

You were just confused, however, when you were met with a familiar face.

“Mom?”

The long forgotten goddess didn’t even flinch at the anger in your expression, nor the tears that betrayed your pain. It was all too much. She had changed so much. Once the goddess of wisdom, the original goddess long before Namjoon, she held herself with grace. But her frame all bones, no fat, her face was gaunt, and she looked liked she had just walked out of a halloween store. Your breath caught in your throat as she grasped your arm, hard enough to cause a whimper of pain. The other women were forced to follow along as well.

She escorted you out to the ballroom. You felt yourself go pale, stomach dropping to the floor as you surveyed the room. Blood, everywhere. You couldn’t tell whose was whose. Gods are gods, but they bleed. And when they die, they must wait to be reborn once more. You felt your heart clench, seeing the inner circle on their knees. They looked defeated. Seokjin was comforting a sobbing girl, only to have her ripped away and whisked somewhere else. This made the elder god snarl, but he stopped almost immediately after looking at their captors. And who wouldn’t?

They were ghastly creatures, looking like demons out of a novel of pain and horror. Some of them had melted skin, others had hollow faces and haunting stares. All brandished with various “K”s on their bodies. You noticed your mother had one on the side of her neck. The gods were arguing with someone, but you couldn’t make out everything, the argument in full on Greek. Then there was a loud cough. Your mother threw forth the other two girls first. You watched Taehyung and Yoongi’s eyes go wide, before going back, completely feral, to arguing. Then your mother pulled you in close.

“Y/N.” She said coldly, despite her seemingly motherly embrace. “You have disappointed me greatly, I pray Kronos spares you.” Her lips were a thin line as she threw you to the ground too. You tripped over the debris and landed on your hands and knees. You looked up, meeting the eyes of Jimin.

You saw a quiet fury. You knew Jimin was diplomatic, he wouldn’t yell, but you could feel his anger from across the room. He mouthed ‘I love you’. And you frowned a little. This was not where you wanted to be confessed to. You wanted him to say to you, alone, and secluded. You selfishly wanted that. Now the enemy had stolen your first I Love Yous as well.

“Put her with the others.” You understood that part. The masked leader gestured to an underling who unceremoniously dragged you over to the other women. You huddled together as they shoved you into a cage with the crying girl from earlier. Yoongi’s wife wasn’t crying, but she did seem to be in a state of shock. Taehyung’s lover was crying, trying to conceal her sniffles. You gently shrugged off the cardigan from earlier, handing it to her. She took it quickly, hiding her face. You even heard the smallest thank you. Underlings surrounded you like specimen, watching you like you were zoo animals.

“Yoongi!” The bride called out, panicked. You felt it too. There was something bad coming. Then the cage moved and you felt nauseated from the sudden movement. You panicked fully for the first time. Where were they taking you?

“Jimin!” You screeched, hand stretching out. His eyes widened farther.

“Y/N!” He called back, fighting the restraints and lunging towards the cage.

Taehyung’s girlfriend sobbed loudly and Taehyung looked over, concern evident as he struggled to reach out, mental focus just on getting to his lover.

“I love you!” You cried. “Please look for us, don’t give up on us.” Came out your broken plea.

“I’ll search the ends of the universe just to see your face, Y/N.” You heard him say. The underlings restrained him and you sat back, feeling defeated already. The others knew you weren’t a goddess and they immediately babied you, knowing your body to be far more fragile from theirs. Tae’s girlfriend shot you small smiles of encouragement and you did so in return. Yoongi’s wife rubbed your back and the third mystery woman remained silent as you were driven to gods know where.

Last minute A/N: OKAY OKAY I admit it, I didn’t give this...a great happy ending. BUT BUT BUT I promise you a happy ending in the future-

#bts #tatawrites #of eternity and euphoria #bts x reader #jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #fluff #god!BTS #God!Jimin #Demigod!reader #love #proof reading is dead to me #I'll just fix it later if I have the guts to reread my work

31 notes · View notes

yehet-me-up · 4 years

Text

Frozen North ~ Night Four

PAIRING: Chanyeol x reader

GENRE: Horror/Suspense/SPOOP in general/light romance (because who else would I be?)

WORD COUNT: 2,164

RATING: PG13 (nothing gruesome, but knowing me there will be swearing)

SUMMARY: You run a late night radio show dedicated to telling scary stories and urban legends, the creepier the better. Listeners call in and share their own, creating a small but loyal community of folks like you who love this sort of thing. One night, a man calls in with what sounds like an all-too-real story and before you know it, you’ll do anything to make sure he’s safe.

Frozen North Masterlist

You and Yoora agree to meet up for coffee on campus before your first class of the day. The winter morning is icy cold and you bundle yourself up in your North Face parka, knit beanie, and gloves and head off for the cafe at Suzzallo.

She looks almost exactly like her photos - perfectly groomed bob of shiny black hair, high cheekbones. A nervous smile plays on her lips as she looks around the room, clutching her mug of coffee. You give her a small wave and thread your way through the mass of students and she sags with relief.

'Thank you so much for meeting me,' she starts before you've even sat down.

You take off your hat and gloves and shove them in your bag, pulling out your phone and placing it face up. There's not been a second in the last few hours that you haven't had it close. Sleep didn't come easy, in fits and spurts. Wild dreams tormented you, of Chanyeol and what he was going through.

How you wished you could reach through the phone and pull him into the warmth and safety of your bed.

The thought makes you blush in the heat of the cafe. 'Of course, I want to help.'

Yoora pulls out her own phone and shows you the call log. 'I've been trying him for days. We just had lunch on Sunday. Monday he didn't answer which, knowing how he works like a man possessed, isn't unusual. By Tuesday I was worried and by Wednesday I knew something was wrong.'

You nod in agreement. 'The first call on Tuesday sounded almost like a joke or, I don't know, a new twist on a story. It would hardly be the strangest thing that's happened on my show.' You unlock your phone and look through the call log. 'He called me before that, actually. But I didn't think anything of it.'

Her brows pull together. 'Really?'

Turning it so she can see you point out the FaceTime call that came through just before you started on Tuesday. 'Yeah, it's weird - I don't know Chanyeol. Even though we both go to U dub we've never crossed paths.'

'Why on earth would he be calling from an Alaska number?' she asks, distraught. 'What is going on here?'

You sigh and rub your forehead. 'I could try calling him, see if it goes through? I've tried a lot over the last few days. It seems there's no predicting when he'll call. He never answers.'

Yoora nods. 'You go first, with your Alaska number. Then I'll try his cell. If neither go through, I'm going to the police.'

Dread curdles in your stomach and you agree. Hitting the call button, you squeeze your eyes together and pray that this is all some sort of horrible dream. But it rings, endlessly like always, before giving the same message about a voicemail box.

With a shake of your head you watch Yoora do the same. She chews on her lip, looking as haunted and sad as you feel. After a minute she hangs up. Looking resolved, she slides her phone back into her purse.

'I'll let you know what happens. Thank you, for letting me know. The recordings will help I'm sure.' She reaches across the table and rests her hands on top of yours.

'The show is on at eight. I'll have my phone with me the whole time. If something happens, I'll be there.'

With a nod she grabs her still-full coffee and strides off.

For long minutes you sit there, spinning your phone around on the table. The noise in the cafe is endless but you don’t hear it. All you can think about is this man who came into your life, who feels connected to you by the thinnest of ropes. But it matters. Even if you don’t know why, he matters more than anything.

Determined, you stand up. With a grunt you knock into someone standing right behind you. A male voice curses softly. When you turn to apologize you gasp, embarrassment turning your cheeks red.

‘Professor Langford? I’m so sorry,’ you start.

He gives you a friendly wave and shakes his head, gesturing to the coffee spilled across his wool coat. ‘It’s nothing, truly. I should have been looking where I was going.’

You grab some napkins from the condiments station and hand them to him. He good-naturedly blots at it and gives you a reassuring smile. But there’s something off. Tension radiates off him, a nervous energy that makes you step back, bumping the back of your chair.

‘What are you doing in this fine cafe today?’ he asks, a hungry look in his eye.

Swallowing, you try to not let your confusion show. ‘Just meeting a friend for coffee.’

He scans you up and down, assessing. ‘You seem upset, is everything alright? Is this thing with Chanyeol getting to you?’

Something dangerous hovers in the air, an unease you can almost taste. ‘Why do you ask?’

Professor Langford blinks, coming back to himself. He coughs and dabs the coffee once more before balling the napkins and depositing them in the trash can next to him. When he faces you again he seems almost like himself.

‘Just curious, that’s all. It is my area of interest, after all,’ he says with a half smile.

‘Yeah, you’re right.’

He gives you an awkward nod. ‘Well, see you in class.’

You stand there and watch as he hurries out of the cafe, pushing out into the light snow that falls in Red Square. With a shake of your head you carry on with your day.

The text you’re hoping for finally comes in while you’re walking to your last class of the day.

Yoora 3:47PM: the police won’t do anything You 3:47PM: oh my god, really? Did you play them the recordings? Yoora 3:47PM: yes, i was there for hours. They say it’s nothing conclusive. That he’s 27 years old and there’s nothing but our word to say there’s something wrong with him You 3:48PM: unbelievable Yoora 3:48PM: hopefully he’ll call in tonight. I can’t take much more of this. You 3:48PM: he will. I know it. We’re going to figure this out

An anxious energy eats away at you as you bustle into the station. Plans, questions, anything you think might help all swirl in your mind. Maybe someone will call in who knows him? Maybe he’ll be able to tell you where he is?

Suse gives you a sympathetic hug when you swap out at the turn of the hour. ‘No luck?’

You sigh and run your hand through your hair. ‘Nothing. His sister and I met up and tried calling again. No answer. She took everything to the police and they refuse to help. They said there’s not enough evidence.’

‘What the fuck.’ She looks to the ceiling, hesitating and chewing her lip. ‘Okay I have an idea. It might be nuts but-’

‘I’m desperate Suse,’ you say, holding her shoulders. ‘I’ll do anything. I know in my gut this is real.’

Something she sees in your face convinces her and she nods, pulling out her phone. After shooting off a text she slips it back in her purse. ‘He’ll be here in twenty.’

‘Who will?’

She leans in and whispers. ‘Jimmy’s sister had this sketchy ass boyfriend who kept calling and harassing her so he downloaded this program that traces calls. It’s not exactly… legal. But I think if your Chanyeol calls in tonight we should be able to get it hooked up to the computer and figure out where he is.’

You nearly crush her you hug her so tight. ‘Oh my god, Suse. I don’t even - that would be incredible.’

She hugs you back before smacking your butt padded by your parka. ‘Don’t thank me until we find him. Now get in there, you have a show to run.’

It takes some convincing before Daniel allows Jimmy to set up his laptop in the listening booth, but eventually he caves. He wants this resolved as badly as any of you. For over an hour you and Jimmy wait anxiously while you attempt to carry on your show as normally as possible.

Several people call in saying they wish they could help with Chanyeol. A few people know him - from class, from the underground rock scene in Seattle, from various jobs over the years. No one has a bad thing to say about him and you wish over and over that you could hear his voice again. That you could see him in person. You wonder if he lives up to the hype, something within you says that he will exceed it.

When the calls taper off you transition to your prepared content. Two people call in with snippets from stories they’re working on. You do a piece on the rumored Thirteen Steps to Hell in Maltby, Washington’s cemetery. When you wrote it you felt the familiar thrill in your veins. Of excitement. Of wonder. Of fear, licking up your spine and reminding you of the terrifying and unknown myths and legends of the world.

But now, in the cold studio with your cell phone clutched in your hand, it doesn’t feel anything like you’d planned. The only thing you feel is afraid and full of want. For relief and for this to be over and for him to be safe.

Through intermission and on into the usual Friday open hour discussion on favorite international urban legends your phone is deadly silent and you want to scream and throw it at the wall. Suse and Daniel in the booth give you tight-lipped smiles and nods of encouragement whenever you turn to them, dread inhabiting your stiff movements.

But just before the end of the night, at 11:45, your phone buzzes.

CHANYEOL WOULD LIKE TO FACETIME

‘Fuck -’ you say on the air, trying to hit the accept button with frozen shaking fingers.

Jimmy does his best to recover as well, unplugging his link from the computer and pulling out an iphone cord from his bag. Frantically you lift the phone to your ear and motion for someone to come take over the mic while you answer. Suse bustles into the room and says something about taking a break.

You hardly hear her. Every atom of your being leans towards the phone, grasping for a sound - his voice, wind, wolves, anything.

‘Chanyeol? Are you there?’

A scuffling comes through and then: ‘I’m here.’

‘Oh, thank God,’ you practically sob.

Hands brush against yours where it holds the phone and then Jimmy sits back, giving you a thumbs up. He types frantically on his computer and Suse breathes against your other ear, resting a reassuring arm over your shoulder.

‘How are you?’

He grunts. ‘It’s so cold here. I feel like I’m losing myself. It’s so dark and I just - all I dream about is ice. And wolves. Red eyes. Blood. I just want to be warm.’

You ask him the first question that comes to mind, anything to keep him on longer, to bring him back to himself. ‘What’s your favorite Radiohead song?’

‘Radiohead...? How did you know I like them?’

‘It’s a long story, Chanyeol,’ you sigh. ‘Tell me, please.’

‘I guess… Creep. Definitely my favorite.’

You smile. It’s yours as well. That spark of energy in your chest ignites again. Something like fate and just as insistent. ‘Why do you like it?’

More shuffling. ‘I like how I feel when I sing it. I need words, lyrics, to know how I feel. It’s the only language that makes sense to me sometimes.’

‘I know what you mean,’ you says softly, looking around that the booth. In the cocoon you’ve built from the world over the past few years.

‘What’s your favorite?’ he asks, the low rumble of his voice crossing your skin all the way through the phone, wherever he is.

‘Mine is-’ you start, but your words are interrupted.

‘Enough!’ someone says near the phone. A female voice this time.

Chanyeol grunts and you hear a crash. The line goes dead and you want to scream. The silence in the room is so pervasive and heavy you can feel the air vibrating. Jimmy next to you is still and you nervously look at him.

‘Anything?’ Suse asks, saying the words you can’t bring yourself to.

He nods, unable to look away from the computer. ‘You’re not going to believe this. It’s coming from fucking Seattle. Three blocks from here.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging @yeoldontknow @enthusiastt @itskindofafairything @gogh-suck-it@nshitae <3

#chanyeol x reader #chanyeol au #chanyeol fanfic #exo x reader #exo fanfic #exo au #exo horror

76 notes · View notes

akyaea22 · 4 years

Text

How did Eve get into Twisted Wonderland:

A post where I go way too deep about theoretical physics and stuff that I researched for a fic.

(Spoilers for “Down the Rabbit Hole” Chapter 5)

(Semi-Spoilers for Prologue Chapter 4)

Alright, here’s some background knowledge about wormholes/parallel universes and whatnot. I don’t actually study these topics, I just find them incredibly interesting, so if you see anything incorrect, feel free to flame me in the replies/comments/whatever they’re called.

If you don’t want the background knowledge or you just want to skip further down, I’ll mark the end of the background exposition with a line.

Ok, so I’m pretty sure everyone is familiar with the concept of worm holes and parallel universes, right? Hollywood has drilled it into our heads with their sci-fi movies and whatnot.

Imagine the universe as a flat sheet of paper. If you fold it in half, and then violently stab a pencil through it, the pencil serves as the worm hole, connecting the two ends together. Theoretically, if you travel through the worm hole, you’d end up on the other side of the universe in a fraction of the time it would take for you to actually travel the universe if it wasn’t folded.

Parrallel universes. You all heard the whole NASA thing where they might’ve (Key word: might have. Meaning: Maybe. Possibly) found evidence of a parallel universe where time travels backwards? If not, uhh- look it up. It’s interesting. So a parallel universe is basically another universe, just different. How different? Movies and books usually make them similar to our universe, but slightly different. This is because they don’t want the reader/watcher to feel too out of place. Why explain a bunch of new and unfamiliar concepts when you can just tweak a couple things, slap a new label on it, and call it a day? On the other hand, there probably are some books and movies out there that actually do take you to a new universe, but even then, they usually keep the basic stuff the same. There’s gravity (probably), air (also probably), and the Sun (listen, I haven’t seen every piece of media that’s ever been made so please take this list with a grain of salt.)

The thing is, in another universe, everything could be different. The laws of physics as we know them in this world cannot be applied to the other universe. Gravity could just not exist, stars could suck in heat instead of radiating it, black holes could shoot out matter. It would all be possible, because it’s in a different universe. The new universe don’t gotta play by our rules.

———————————-

Have any of these things actually been proven? No. They haven’t. Right now, they only exist in the realm of theoretical physics. Basically meaning, theoretically, this could happen, but we don’t really know yet.

While “Down the Rabbit Hole” isn’t a “The Martian” level story with absolute scientific details down to the smallest detail, there is some level of science involved.

(Spoilers for Chapter 5 “Down the Rabbit Hole” Last Warning)

In Chapter 5, Eve mentions worm holes and parallel universes when Crowley brings up the fact that she might be from another world. Neither of the characters explicitly confirm that that’s how Eve got into the Twisted Wonderland universe, but it’s what I’m sticking with for now. (Watch this post get outdated as my indecisive self starts to come up with more stuff)

I decided to shove some science into my fic because I didn’t want to go down the “They were thrown into the universe because magic” path. I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with that path either. I just prefer the science-y path because I find that it’s incredibly interesting to read and write about these things that could possibly exist. (And that you could possibly be isekai’d into another world, but that’s beside the point.)

Is this the last time that I’m gonna shove some science into my story? Uhh- no. I’m probably gonna use it here and there at times if I can. If there’s an opportunity to explain something, I’ll take it. Will it be a long-winded essay on how random stuff in the Twisted Wonderland universe works? No. I have my limits. I’m not gonna research how Grim breathing fire works and the possible effects it would have on his body. While an interesting topic, I get that readers wouldn’t want to sift through that in the middle of a story. It’ll probably get waved away under the “Hey, it’s a parallel universe with different rules, so you don’t have to question it.” rug.

List of random questions I have: (These are for my own reference to satisfy my burning curiosity, so you can stop reading here if you want.)

Is the universe actually flat though? Isn’t the Earth a sphere so wouldn’t that wipe the theory off the map?

Why is the worm hole shown to be this kind of like cinched cylinder? Why not a normal cylinder or a rectangular prism or something?

Do the ends (following the paper metaphor) actually touch? Diagrams show that they don’t touch, forming more of a U-shape.

What’s the space in between? I know it’s hyperspace, but what is it specifically?

What happens to the stuff that is on the folded part? It’s curved, so does the stuff curve with it? (Imagine a flat planet curving.)

How much energy does it take to create this thing? How are they even created?

What’s with all the types of stuff? (Dark matter, Exotic matter, Negative energy, Repulsive gravity, etc.)

How do you find out if a parallel universe exists? It’s not gonna be in blinking neon signs, so do you just wait for some kind of sign? Do you wait for a random portal to open and someone steps out claiming to be from another universe, or is there actually something you can detect to figure out if another universe exists?

You wouldn’t be able to even enter another universe without risking death. Like, the other universe could have toxic chemicals replacing all of the oxygen atoms. We don’t know what’s there. Why would we want to find these things anyways? (I mean, aside from just the feeling of “Oh neat. There’s another universe”)

The entire parallel universe thing is just a giant question mark.

Did I spend too much time thinking about this? Yes. Yes I did. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#boiling the ramen #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #I got way too into this #But hey #thanks for coming to my tedtalk

10 notes · View notes

milos-fanfics · 4 years

Text

The Evils Within - Chapter 12

Luigi was sat at the u-shaped table of a conference room, Peach sitting on the interior side across from him and Mario next to him. The two tried to talk to him, but he didn't respond. He sat quietly, staring to the ground. His hat covering his eyes so neither Peach nor Mario could tell his expression.

“Luigi, listen. I understand that this might be overwhelming, if not, annoying, for us to be asking you about this so often, but... are you… doing okay?” Peach asked. She was just as concerned for him as Mario was. She expected more silence but was met with a very unusual response.

“Lay off,” Luigi simply responded. His tone of voice was very different from the ones that are used to. It was almost as if... he was angry, an emotion neither she nor his brother were familiar with him having.

Mario, who had been leaning on his hand, sat up with a confused look. “Bro, we’re just trying to help. You've been acting very different lately. Are you sure you don't want to tell us what's wrong?” he asked.

“Get off my back, okay?” Luigi finally looked up and turned to Mario for a moment before looking back down.

Mario unconsciously moved back in a seat a bit. The look in his brother's eyes was unsettling, to say the least. There have been moments where Luigi had been quite annoyed, but this anger he was showing off was a rare occurrence. Mario felt like if he asked any more questions, someone was going to get hurt.

“Luigi, I understand you're getting frustrated with us about us berating you with all these questions, but we're not going to stop asking until we know how to help you,” Peach informed him. She was a tad afraid of Luigi's new attitude but did her best not to show it. “So, please answer us this. What's wrong?”

“What part of leave me alone do you not understand?” Luigi snapped. His new-found anger was building up and needed to be let out. He had no idea what he was doing or why, but he had the feeling to just... yell. “It's always the same thing with you guys. ‘What's wrong?’ ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Do you need help?’ All the damn time! I'm sick of it! I don't know what's wrong. I don't know if I need help. And I definitely am not okay! I need to figure this shit out by myself instead of relying on you guys like a kid. I am a grown-ass adult and I need to figure these things out on my own.” He stands up from the table in a huff, the chair loudly scraping against the floor. “I'm going home. When you guys are done treating me like a child, you can meet me at home.” He leaves.

Mario and Peach just sat there, mouth agape, absolutely speechless on what had just happened. Luigi has never ‘snapped’ before. The whole thing was just unexpected. They looked to each other for questions or answers, but neither of them could form the words.

Luigi angrily stormed out of the castle, making it just outside before finally processing the previous event. He just yelled at his friends. Just the thought of it hurt him, but actually doing it? It already broke his heart. He leaned against the castle wall, taking a deep breath before breaking out into tears. He had no idea why he was so angry, but now, because of it, he was just very upset.

He assumed whatever was going on was just Mr. L messing with his mind like he always does. He needed help. He didn't want to admit it, but he definitely wanted his friends to help, but he thought, by yelling at them, he wasn't going to get that help.

The more upset he got, the more anger he felt. His anger, mixed with his sorrow, was making it hard for him to think rationally. He was trying to calm down, but his anger told him things like, ‘they hate you now’ ‘you can't go back to them’ ‘they won't help you’ And that only made him even more upset.

He felt something building up inside of him, it wasn't an emotion, but whatever it was, it wasn't good.

~~~~~

Daisy fell back, holding her hand over her nose. She twitched as a bolt of electricity ran down her spine. She moved her hand, spotting a small splotch of blood on it. Balling her fists, she stood up. As terrified as she was at this ability she has never seen from him, she also was not letting him get away with it.

She went for a punch to the stomach but was stopped when Mr. L's hand grabbed hers mid hit. He tried to punch right back but was stopped with his own move being used against him. Both Mr. L and Daisy strained, trying to break free from the others’ strong grip.

Then, a single tear rolled from his eye and down his cheek. He felt a sudden gloomy feeling rolling over him, catching him completely off guard. Daisy noticed this sudden change of emotion and used this as an opportunity to free her hands from his grip and punch him in the stomach, causing him to stumble back once again. This time, he tripped over his own feet, landing on the ground.

Mr. L wiped the tear from his face and rolled to the side, avoiding another hit and the princess. He found it difficult to fight. It made him angry, but the more angry he got, the stronger the feeling of sadness was getting. It was very distracting.

Standing back up to his feet, Mr. L charged to Daisy, determined to get that crown. Of course, he was met with his hands restrained by her again. Tears ran faster down his face, but he tried to ignore it. Daisy gave him a look of confusion.

Mr. L wasn't too happy about this look he got from her. He felt like he was coming off as ‘weak’. It only angered him more. He wanted -- no, needed -- to win this crown. He sent a wave of electricity from his arms to hers.

Daisy gritted her teeth, trying her hardest to withstand the pain of a shock, but she couldn't hold it for long. It drained her energy. She let go of his hands and fell to the ground on her knees.

She looked up to Mr. L, watching as he drew back his arm, presumably for one last hit. She flinched, away from the forthcoming blow, but nothing happened. She looks back up to him. He stood frozen, twitching. A single spark emitting with each one.

Mr. L had no idea what was happening. While he was getting more and more angrier at his increasing level of sadness, I felt something else building up. It was no emotion, but whatever it was, he knew it wasn't good.

Mr. L had only been frozen for about three seconds before the power building up inside of him let out, in the form of an explosion of lightning.

A ball of lighting radiated from Mr. L. Everything within a ten-foot radius was knocked back, with quite a great deal of force, including princess Daisy. She was sent back to the wall of the castle, hitting it. Hard, before falling unconscious to the ground.

This surge of electricity burned the ground beneath him and drained all of Mr. L’s energy. He fell shortly after Daisy to regain his energy.

~~~~~

The build-up of energy didn’t just affect Mr. L, but Luigi too. He released a ball of pure energy as well. The shockwave blew through a small field of flowers, practically uprooting them from the ground and leaving a similar burn mark beneath him. His vision blurred as he fell to the ground before going entirely black.

~~~~~

Luigi found himself back in the dream world. Everything was black and he was fully aware he was dreaming. He was waiting for something to happen, but… where was it?

A figure faded in from the dark and endless void. Who else could it be than Mr. L? Luigi sighed at this.

“Hello again, Green! Did you miss me?” Mr. L greeted happily. Beyond that suspicious smile, Luigi could tell he was behind something.

“What are you up to?” Luigi asked.

“Why do you ask?”

Luigi sighed again in annoyance. “Well… I did just get knocked out for no apparent reason and am now floating unconsciously in the void. I have to assume you played a part in this somehow,” he responded. He did not want to deal with Mr. L’s nonsense today, or at all.

“Hey, I don’t know what happened either. One minute I was fighting someone for their crown and the next thing I know, I’m here,” Mr. L defended. Luigi raised an eyebrow to this. Before he could intervene, Mr. L continued, “I assume it has something to do with you and your stupid emotions.

“My stupid emo- have you been messing with my emotions?” Luigi asked, offended.

“Of course not! I have so much more important things to do than messing with your head!” Mr. L exclaimed.

“What are you on about?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m free! Free from your mental prison. Free to do as I please. I would have gotten so much farther if your damn emotions didn’t get in the way!” It was Mr. L’s turn to be annoyed.

Luigi’s eyes widened. He knew what escaped from the dream world. It was a threat, but not just to him, but to the Mushroom Kingdom, or even the world. If his nightmares told him anything, it’s that he needs to find out how to stop this threat. And fast.

Mr. L felt a tingling sensation as his body began to fade away from the dream world. He smiled again, waving to his dopplegänger. “Oh? I’m drifting back into consciousness. I’ll see you when I see you. I certainly hope you’re ready because we’re going to have fun,” he chuckled as he completely faded out. Luigi felt the sensation too, he began to fade out from the dream world too.

~~~~~

Mr. L shot up from the castle floor. Looking around, he spotted an unconscious Daisy, with her crown lying besides her. He crawled over to it and picked it up, smiling mischievously.

~~~~~

Luigi found himself awake back in the bed at Peach’s castle, both her and Mario at either side of him. Neither of them looked too happy. Luigi smiled nervously. He could tell they wanted answers.

~~~~~

Chapter 11 - Chapter 13 Cover

#mario #fanfic #fanfiction #mr. l #luigi #peach #princess peach

10 notes · View notes

heesgf · 5 years

Text

basketball player! byounggon

in honour of my baby’s birthday, here’s a cute + lighthearted basketball player! gon fic that i’ve been dreaming abt for eternity :’)) as per usual, the beginning is a little slow, but it’s worth ur patience, i promise💞😚

warnings: vvvv sweet (might give u cavities), BASKETBALL PLAYER GON BEING THE HOTTEST MF ALIVE, hyunsuk bff tomfoolery (what’s new lmao)

in which Lee Byounggon is basketball team captain, and you’re suddenly a sports fanatic.

Had Choi Hyunsuk seemed a little less desperate, perhaps you wouldn’t have found yourself in a crowded gymnasium, pressed against rampant bodies, and subject to the shrieks of devoted sport fanatics.

This morning, like any other, had started quite mundanely. You were perched against the headboard of your dorm’s single bed, doodling carelessly onto sheets of chemistry homework, while Hyunsuk mused a brightly coloured fedora in front of your full length mirror.

“Listen,” You shouted across the room, in between bites of your buttered croissant. “I invited you over to study, not to commit fashion atrocities in my dorm room.”

Hyunsuk, still balancing the horrendous garment over his head, shot you a pained expression, and rolled his eyes in distaste. He waves his hand vaguely in your direction and grimaces.

“Says the girl wearing a shirt that says ‘caffeine queen’.”

“Hey, you asshole, my mom got me this! I think it’s cute.” You cross your arms over your chest and narrow your eyes, while Hyunsuk shakes his head deliriously. He eyes you up and down once more, and then scrunches his nose.

“Sure, Jan.” He says slowly, and you contemplate throwing the pillow wedged behind your back toward his head. You opt against it, but the look on your face might be just as scary.

You stick your tongue out. “No one says memes out loud like that, you doofus!”

He spares you a lopsided shrug and giggles, then he breaks out into a smile and looks toward you once more.

“You’re coming to the game later, right?” He starts suddenly, and you bite your lip.

“I don’t know, Suk. I’m trying to stay focused on chem and stuff.”

Hyunsuk launches toward your spot on the bed, and reaches his hand out toward one of your stray sheets of paper, filled to the brim with miscellaneous stick figures and, in Hyunsuk’s opinion, the worst cartoon images of a corgi he’s ever seen.

“Yeah.” He baits, swinging the paper in front your wandering eyes. “You really look like you’re invested in learning.”

“Shut up!” You mumble out in a laugh, and then you roll your eyes. Hyunsuk still waits for an answer, and you purse your lips.

“I’ll think about it. Maybe, okay?”

Hyunsuk’s nod seems uncharacteristically tame, but there’s something about the devious look in his eyes that makes you think this conversation is far from over. When you come out of the bathroom a few minutes later, and his iron grips closes itself around your wrist, you find yourself yanked out of your room, into the hall, and most likely toward the gymnasium. In that moment, you think Choi Hyunsuk might be the worst person you’ve ever met, and the next couple hours, spent watching a college basketball game, were going to be completely unbearable.

***

Two minutes into sitting on painfully cold bleachers, having popcorn spilled over your lap, and your cheek elbowed by the rowdy couple next to you, you think you might be having a basketball induced aneurysm.

Hyunsuk is seated calmly next to you, and staring serenely into the crowd; every once in a while, he waves to someone you can’t recognize, most likely one of his teammates, and he looks back at you with a reassuring smile.

“Why are we here if you’re not even playing?” You groan, sliding your head onto his shoulder, and shutting your eyes tightly in discomfort.

“I told you, [Y/N].” He sighs into the crown of your head. “I have dance practice later. I gotta keep my calves limber. We’re here for the sportsmanship.”

You playfully roll your eyes and feign a barfing motion. Hyunsuk pushes your head away from his shoulder and pouts.

“I don’t even know what that means and I’m still disgusted.” You retort. “Besides... what do you know about sportsmanship? Literally every time we play Mario Kart I catch you cheating.”

Hyunsuk starts talking about how ‘you’re in great need of a chill pill’, and though you fight the urge to slap him silly, you instead find yourself staring intently at the court, eyes glazing over the lines of male athletes running drills across the gymnasium floor. As you watch, you notice the beads of sweat, the graceful strides, the cohesive movement, and as you watch, your eyes seem to close in on a particular someone—and suddenly, Hyunsuk’s words feel like they are worlds away.

The boy is standing in the centre of the court with his hands pressed against his knees, and his eyes trailing sporadically across the room.

His jersey, like all his teammates, is a blinding crimson, and against his honey sodden skin, a seemingly perfect contrast. His hair, slightly damp, is a disarrayed and glossy black, but something about the way it presses against his forehead, frays upward on the sides, sways lucidly when he runs, is wildly cinematic, and you think it just might consume you, like your favourite movie. On his back, there is the stark white outline of the number nine, and on the bottom, in between crinkled fabric, you think you can make out the name ‘Lee’. He’s waving his arms at a teammate, shouting something incoherent, and when the ball makes contact with his hands, his lips break out into the purest of smiles; it radiates an energy that is lively, almost impossible to miss, and completely intoxicating, even at your distance in the stands.

When that smile transforms into the shell of laughter, there’s something about the crowd’s cheering that suddenly feels rhythmic.

“Hey.” You whisper, poking into Hyunsuk’s rib cage. “Who’s that guy over there?”

Hyunsuk squints at your bewildered expression, and then looks onto the crowd, following the path of your eyes.

“Who? The guy in the hat? That’s coach Yang. God, I hate that guy. He’s always on my ass about making it to practice. And if you think my fashion is bad, Jesus Christ, you should see him at Sunday morning practice; crocs and socks all da-,”

“No, not him, you idiot.” You shake your head erratically. “T-the guy in the middle, look, he has the ball right now.”

“Oh.” He shrugs. “Well that’s Byounggon.”

“Byounggon.” You repeat. And then your bottom lips find it’s way between your teeth. Hyunsuk sits back against his seat, and focuses in on the game once more. And you, well you’re enamored by the rapid movements of a lanky boy with a smile that’s strikingly tender.

Byounggon.

You think maybe basketball isn’t so bad after all.

***

When Byounggon’s team wins the game, Hyunsuk tackles you in a tight side hug that feels almost violent. He is jumping up in his seat, screaming toward his teammates, and coincidentally, dragging your body with him. When he finally pulls away, and you can catch a string of fresh air, you ponder the appropriate time to start asking questions. You’re trailing down the bleacher steps when your voice finally breaks out, and your eyes are glued to the floor.

“So... when is your next game?” You ask nonchalantly.

Hyunsuk looks at you once in confusion. Then he makes a double take. And then a triple.

“Did you just say what I think you said?” Then he waves his hands in front of his eyes and shakes his head furiously. “Nah, I must be dreaming.”

“I’m serious!” You laugh. “I wanna watch your next game. I genuinely had fun!”

Hyunsuk still looks weary, but he nods his head halfheartedly. When you think he’s stopped looking at you, you turn your attention back to Byounggon, who is currently standing in a crowd of his teammates, and giving high fives all around. You’re distracted by the way his eyes crinkle when you hear Hyunsuk emit an amused ‘huh’, and when he points a sly finger in your direction, you know he’s put two and two together.

“I see what’s going on here.” He whispers excitedly. “You have a thing for Byounggon!”

“What? No I don’t! I don’t even know him!”

“Oh really?” He teases. “Then stop drooling over him like an animal.”

“Suk, y-you’re being ridiculous right now.”

“And would you look at that!” He whistles. The mischievous glint in his eyes makes you nauseous. “Looks like he’s coming over here, right now.”

“Hyunsuk, don’t you fucking dare. I’m serious.”

“Hey Byounggon!”

“Ohmygod.” You whine, smacking a palm to your forehead as your heart overcomes itself with panic. “I hate you. I genuinely hate you.”

Hyunsuk rolls his eyes, and then erupts in a laugh that makes the pits of your stomach twist.

“Trust me, [Y/N]. You’re gonna love me after this.”

You think that’s highly improbable.

***

Byounggon is more illusive when he stands in front of you.

Now, jogging toward Hyunsuk, tufts of raven coloured frame the cusp of his forehead, and the slight peak of his neck; his eyes narrow, but it’s far from hostile, and rather, a tinge of warm familiarity.

“Hey, you came!” Byounggon remarks, pulling Hyunsuk into a tight hug, and you realize his voice is gruffer than you would've thought.

“You guys were awesome, dude!” Hyunsuk gushes with a smile, and then he looks towards you, and gestures a hand in your direction. “This is my friend, [Y/N].”

Byounggon’s eyes shift to meet yours. He lifts his head in your direction, and waves his hand with a shy smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You respond awkwardly, raising a hand to match his stance.

He raises a brow and grins. “Did you like the game?”

“Yeah! Yeah, you guys were all really good. I loved it!”

“Really?” He breathes out in a giggle. “Because when I was sitting on the bench I could’ve sworn I saw you sleeping?”

Hyunsuk breaks into a hysteric fit of laughs, and you shake your head rampantly, hoping the scarlet tinge of your cheeks doesn’t give you away. There was some truth to what he said; of course, when Byounggon wasn’t playing, the court seemed a little less compelling...

“Me?” You exasperate, face still flushed. “N-no, I would never!”

“Oh yeah, dude, she totally was. In the third quarter, she was knocked out! Almost drooled.”

You shoot Hyunsuk a glare, but he’s too caught up in his own laughter to notice; Byounggon throws his head back in a soft chuckle, then he looks back at you and shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m just messing with you.” He smooths over. “I’m glad you guys liked the game.”

His smile, like that smile on the court, is wide and contagious. And though you’re immersed in the plans of Hyunsuk’s murder, you can feel the corners of your lips drift upward, and the soft glimmer of a smile take over. When you hear someone shout Byounggon’s name across the gymnasium floor, you’re not sure if it’s the voice of one of his teammates, or the soft call of your heart.

Byounggon looks back at the sound and smiles apologetically. “That’s me. I’ll see you guys later?”

Before he leaves, Hyunsuk pulls Byounggon in for another hug, and you offer an awkward wave. You watch as he drifts away from you, and toward Yang Hyunsuk, who you know knew was his coach.

Damn. His style really was awful.

“See, now that wasn’t so bad, right?” Hyunsuk’s voice breaks you away from your train of thought, and on instinct, you smack him across the chest.

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” He groans, running his hand over the tender spot; you roll your eyes and trot forward, Hyunsuk trails behind you.

“That,” You shout. “—is for being the world’s WORST wing-man!”

“[Y/N]... You don’t mean that.”

You meant that.

***

A few days later, and you’re sitting in the campus library, buried in Calculus homework. If you were being completely honest, the past few days had consisted a little too much of ‘finding Lee Byounggon’s Instagram and Facebook’ and not enough ‘finding the derivative of f’(a)’. You may not have been prepared for your upcoming midterm, but you were, however, well informed on the kind of memes Lee Byounggon liked to use on Facebook circa 2011; knowing that Byounggon was an avid watcher of Naruto made him somewhat less intimidating in real life.

You’re still working through your Calculus workbook when the silhouette of a particular someone looms over the table, and when you look up, he’s flashing that smile that gives stars a run for their money; you think maybe his shadow made the room a little brighter.

“Hey! Whatcha’ doing?” His voice rings, and you remove a headphone from your ear.

Byounggon is wearing a sleek black crewneck and light grey sweatpants that hang low on his waist. His hair, unlike at the game, is neatly tussled, but it still has that vibrant sheen. He’s standing at the end of the table, and looking at you curiously; at his side, he holds a black drawstring bag.

“Calculus.” You groan, and his face twists to match yours. “What about you?”

He shrugs. “On my way to practice.”

“Through the library?”

He laughs. “It’s a shortcut.” Then he pauses, and continues. “By the way, if you like watching us play, you should come to our game this weekend.”

“Yeah, I might! I like watching you guys play, it’s kinda... surprising?”

Byounggon scrunches his eyebrows together and tilts his head inquisitively. His gaze, at the moment, is soft and gentle; and you wonder just how much that gaze would change if you told him basketball was anything but stimulating, and it was instead the smooth curve of his lips that had kept you on the edge of your seat. But of course, you knew you couldn’t tell him that.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

Your face twists into a sideways smirk, and you think you should have a little fun. “I guess I just thought basketball players had to be tall?”

“Wow, wow, wow. I’m tall.” He argues. “Very tall.”

Now, you lean back in your chair, and size him up and down; then you shake your head and grimace.

“Mmmm...I don’t know about that.”

Byounggon straightens his back, and at the same time, puffs out his chest. He gestures up and down, and stares at you wide eyed.

“I’m 180cm tall.” He reassures. “I measure myself everyday!”

You tilt your head. “A little obsessive, don’t you think?”

His face, while tight, breaks out into a wholesome laugh, and he bites his lower lip.

“You still don’t believe me, do you?”

“Aren’t you gonna be late for practice?”

For a moment, Byounggon sticks his tongue of his mouth and smiles. Then he bites the inside of cheek and shakes his head at you, wagging his finger disapprovingly.

“This isn’t over.” He ventures, flashing you that smile once more. And when he walks away from your table, looking over his shoulder every so often to make eye contact, you find yourself overwhelmed with fluttering emotion.

“I’m tall!” Byounggon shouts one last time into the silent library, and various heads, all buried in books, lift to stare at the both of you. You glare at him, but the smirk that tinges on your lips tells a different story.

You’re still staring at the library’s double door entry when Lee Byounggon leaves.

***

Somehow, it’s a Thursday evening and you find yourself sitting in the bleachers of Byounggon’s basketball practice, rather than going to the gym like you had promised yourself.

Byounggon is jogging across the gymnasium floor and running drills; he is clad in a large grey hoodie and fitted black track pants. At the end of practice, he talks with his coach, and his eyes twinge in confusion when he sees you in the stands. He grabs his bag, and while everyone trails out of the gym, he jogs toward you.

“Hey! Have you been here the whole time?” He breathes, running a hand through his dampened hair.

“No, no, I just got here a couple minutes ago. Hyunsuk kept asking me to watch him practice so... here I am!”

Byounggon bites his lips, and his eyes narrow, like he’s had a realization. His lips stretch into a smirk.

“But.” He ponders. “Hyunsuk wasn’t at practice today.”

Your throat grows tight. “Oh.”

His smile widens, and your face flushes a deep and transparent red.

“That is... so weird!” You exclaim dramatically, but Byounggon can hear the panic in your voice, and he’s giggling. You hope he can’t see the red of your cheeks underneath the gymnasium’s orange lighting, too.

“I-I should probably get going.”

You turn your body toward the gym’s exit, and as your footsteps get heavier and heavier, you feel Byounggon’s fingers clasp onto your shoulder.

“Wait, [Y/N]! I wanted to ask you... do you wanna maybe, uh, get some ice cream?”

“Yeah.” You beam. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

***

With some persuasion, Byounggon leads you into the boy’s change room. He sits on one of the wooden benches, in front of the row of lockers, and he fiddles with the hem of his sweatshirt.

“Just give me a second, I’m gonna change out of this, and then we can get going.”

Then suddenly, without warning, he takes his sweatshirt off, and you, are left winded at the sight of a shirtless Lee Byounggon.

Before you can marvel at the way his muscles tightly outline his abdomen, you slap the palms of your hand over your eyes, and scream.

“Jesus, can you give me a warning before you take your shirt off like that?” You groan, eyes still shut tightly through the protection of your fingers. Byounggon, now shrugging a fresh black t-shirt over his shoulders, chuckles deeply into the empty locker room, and the heavenly sound bounces off the walls. You know he’s coming closer because you can hear the sound of his footsteps, and your warm cheeks seem to fire up again. He outstretches a hand onto the crown of your head and ruffles your hair.

“You’re cute.” He says affectionately, and you suddenly think your hands would be better suited if they covered your cheeks, and not your eyes.

***

“I am not letting you buy butter pecan that’s disgusting.”

“What’s wrong with butter pecan? It’s like... sweet and savory.”

“Ohmygod, I’m gonna barf.”

Byounggon sits back onto his chair and shoves another spoonful of butter pecan ice cream into his mouth, and you playfully gag in response. He’s laughing and rolling his eyes, but in the sparkling daylight, he still looks like something out of a spring catalogue. The sky’s vivid blue is complementary to the golden hue of his skin, and against the rosy pink of his lips, you think butter pecan might not be so bad.

The two of you are sitting on the patio of an ice cream shop just off of campus, and maybe it’s the vibrancy of the sun, or the sugar high, but the scenery seems to amplify every emotion you feel. The pots of summer flowers at the shop’s entryway makes your anticipation grow tenfold, but the winding music of passing shop vendors soothes your beating heart with every note.

“Wait, hold on sec.” Byounggon mumbles.

He leans forward into the patio table and his face, only centimeters from yours, makes your breath hitch in the back of your throat. His eyes are focused on something you can’t quite capture, and he outstretches a tentative hand to the side of your face. His fingers brush against the expanse of your jaw, and instinctively, you nuzzle into his touch. You think he might kiss you, because there are twinkling hearts where his eyes should be, and you feel your lips part in preparation. Byounggon’s fingers latch onto a single strand of your hair, and he twiddles with the bottom in between the pads of this thumb and index finger.

“You had ice cream in your hair.” He explains quickly, and then he moves back to his original position, and you hope you don’t look too disappointed.

“O-Oh.” You laugh. “Thanks.”

“So are you gonna come to the game tomorrow?”

“I think so.”

“I hope you do.”

The smoothness in Byounggon’s reply makes chills run up and down your spine, and your eyes widen ever so slightly. He notices the rashness of his words and before you can respond, the words rush out of his mouth.

“B-because Hyunsuk!” He interjects. “I uhhh... know he’d be really bummed if you didn’t come.”

Maybe it’s the vibrancy of the sun, or the sugar high, but you suddenly feel a rush of confidence spring through your body. Lee Byounggon may have been illusive, but he was always so candid, too; you could hear it in the airy quality of his laugh, like he’s gasping for oxygen, like he’s searching for answers, like he’s uncertain; uncertain about you.

You grin at him, and he licks his lips expectantly.

“Nice save, Gon.”

He looks down at his fingers.

“I’ll be there,” You bite your lip. “For sure.”

He looks up again.

As you walk away from Byounggon with lips perched in a shameless smile, the giddy feeling in the pits of your stomach just might consume you. He’s still staring when you look over your shoulder, and if you listen close enough, you think you can hear him whispering to himself in complete elation;

Gon.

***

( Later that evening, you are home in your dorm and deconstructing the events that occurred only minutes prior, and your heart palpitates in your chest. It isn’t until you change into your pajamas when you notice it; a crumpled frock of red fabric shoved into your backpack.

Your mind races when you guess what it might be, but the feelings don’t set in until you unfold the red fabric, and the stark white outline of the number nine greets you with a blinding sheen. Blinding like those eyes, Ike that smile.

His jersey.

You don’t know when he’d put it there, or how, but those questions seem irrelevant when you push the material against your nose and breathe his soft scent; like spearmint and timber. You throw yourself against your bed and grin wholeheartedly.

That night you dream of Byounggon.

And now you think he might be dreaming of you, too. )

***

You decide to wear Byounggon’s jersey underneath a sweatshirt because it all feels a little too cliche. Well, that, and because you don’t think you’ll be able to take Hyunsuk’s incessant teasing when your heart is beating out of your chest.

The gymnasium, like usual, is filled to the brim with amped-up sports fanatics, and if you squint your eyes, you think you can make out the face of Coach Yang standing across the court. (Although, you really wish you hadn’t; his sense of fashion seemingly degrades by the day.) This time, Hyunsuk is warming up with the rest of his teammates, with Byounggon, and you are sitting alone on the bleachers with a tight smile.

You watch as Byounggon looks into the crowd, once, twice over, and when he finally makes contact with you, you watch as his eyebrows push together in subtle concentration. He beams a sideways grin, but it’s not quite as full as you’re used to. That’s when you push down the collar of your sweatshirt, reveal the patch of scarlet fabric beneath, and you think Lee Byounggon might look happier than he would have if he won this game.

Moments later, Hyunsuk pushes himself next to Byounggon, catches your eye, and begins to wave erratically. Then he takes in your expression, and then Byounggon’s, and he nods slyly at you, wiggling his eyebrows. He’s worlds away, and yet, you give in, laughing with full vigor.

***

You know Byounggon’s team has won the game when Hyunsuk removes his jersey off his body and flings it into the air, and then he screams like a madman across the court (somehow, over the crowds’ cheering). Byounggon, on the other hand, hugs his teammates, and once the chaos settles, he turns to look at you.

You are standing in the bleachers, your sweatshirt now long gone, and the bright red of his jersey, on you, gives him butterflies. Since his victory, you’ve been jumping in the stands with the rowdy onlookers beside you, and for the first time ever, you think you might’ve actually enjoyed a basketball game. When Byounggon waves a hand at you, you take it as a sign, and run down countless steps, all the way to court-side where he stands waiting eagerly.

“Congratulations!” You shout, and he’s surprised when you fling yourself into his outstretched arms. His fingers intertwine in your hair, and he laughs onto the top of your head, placing a small kiss at it’s crown.

“Thank you.” He mumbles into your hair; a gesture with such tenderness, you feel yourself overridden with energy.

Byounggon pulls away after a few moments, and his hands are still clasped tightly at the small of your back, yours around his neck. He doesn’t let go. Now, you’re staring intently into his eyes, remarking the scarlet hue of his cheeks—from the game, or this moment, you’re not sure—Byounggon doesn’t close the space between your lips because he’s too busy immersing himself in the gentle sparkle of your eyes; so you take it upon yourself, and kiss him amorously.

His lips, thought slightly chapped, are fervent against yours, and part with a tenacity you’ve never quite encountered. You sigh into his mouth, and he softens his lips, brushing gently over yours; it’s chaste and sweet. You pull away when you feel your body grow weak, and you realize when you’re kissing Byounggon, breathing feels like a second priority.

He is gasping into the hot air of the gymnasium, and you are biting your lips, hands still loosely clasped around his neck. His hands slide from the base of your jaw and toward your cheek, pinching softly.

“I hope that was okay.” You whisper. He moves his lips to your ear.

“It was perfect.”

Before you can sigh in relief, hug him tighter, kiss him more, you can see Hyunsuk approaching through the corner of your eyes. He runs toward you with his lips outstretched into a wide grin, and as he comes closer, he opens his arms and envelops the two of you in a group hug.

“I take credit for every part of this.” Hyunsuk states with glee, and you smack him upside the head.

He flicks you against the forehead. “I’m way too happy to complain about your abuse right now.”

And though the three of you erupt in boisterous laughter, and you shake your head fiercely into their embrace, you think there might be a layer of truth to Hyunsuk’s words. Had Choi Hyunsuk seemed a little less desperate, perhaps you wouldn’t have found yourself at that first game, pressed against rampant bodies, and subject to the boy who you now swore had your heart.

You may not have been the sports fanatic you envisioned, and now, after all this time, maybe you still weren’t; but you did like Lee Byounggon. And now, every time you count to ten, the number nine feels a little bit warmer.

***

a/n: if u made it this far, thank u so much for reading!! im sorry this is mostly plot driven and not necessarily beautiful writing, but i just wanted to post smth cute for gon’s bday!! as always, feedback is appreciated, and ilu all!!! 😚😚💞

#byounggon #ygtb #ygtb scenario #treasure 13 #yg treasure box #lee byounggon #kinda iffy abt posting this bc it's kinda mediocre BUT it's for his birthday so :////

200 notes · View notes

side-effect-of-the-meds · 5 years

Note

Ok i now have to ask cause you mentioned MY FAVORITE DUDE... so uhhhhh fem!Ronan? Perhaps,,, even Fox fem! Ronan? With Erin? Sparring !!!

Three thousand years later we have an answer!!! Thanks so much for your patience. I’m p sure u mentioned u were the OCD/Jeanie anon earlier too and those took me forever as well :’) I hope you enjoy <3

Last bit of extra information

Freshman backliners - Rose, Jack, and Sheena

Freshman goalkeep - Robin (for the purposes of this AU, he’s a cis male)

Freshman dealer - Oliver (Ollie)

Okay, now that I’ve caught you up on all the stuff preceding Rose’s actual arrival, I’ll pick up from there.

Rose manages to keep her cool act up until she gets to the gates. That’s when she realizes that she doesn’t have the code to get in.

“It’s 4952,” a voice says from behind her. Rose tenses immediately for a fight. Ania rounded her and punched the code in herself. “It’s Abby and Wymack’s ages,” she explained as the gate buzzed. Swinging the door open, she led the way in. Rose followed with clenched fists. If Ania noticed, she didn’t say anything about it. “The team was split on whether or not they were boning. I won two hundred bucks because I bet there were. I’d have made another seven hundred if I’d snitched about seeing them kissing in Wymack’s office but Wymack covered for Erin and I a lot last year.”

Rose frowned. Her curiosity got the best of her. “Covered for you?” she asked.

“Yeah, he caught me and my girlfriend making out in the middle of the court after hours.” Rose’s eyes grew wide. She followed after Ania dumbfounded.

“Wait, did you say girlfriend?” With every word, Rose’s voice grew higher and higher.

“Yes,” Ania replied flatly. “Is that a problem?” There was an iciness in her voice that reminded Rose too much of Nathan.

“No,” she said. Ania turned her cold gaze forward again but Rose could still feel her skin crawling. Ania motioned at various doors as they made their way to the lounge but Rose didn’t hear a thing. As they entered, Rose found the lounge already occupied. Rose had never met Kevin Day in the flesh but she’d heard a lot about him on the news. Her father had been in Japan when Kayleigh invented Exy, but Niall refused to talk about her or her son at all. Any mention of Exy at all was banned in the Lynch household. Rose and her brothers had gone to great pains to play the bastard sport behind their father’s backs. In some ways, Rose was grateful for her father’s death. Knowing that she was made her sick to her stomach.

She shoved the thought out of her head as she took stock of the remaining occupants. Nicky Hemmick was talking with a very tall, tan man: Matthew Boyd, Rose realized. From what she’d heard, Nicky was fairly harmless but Boyd’s mother was a boxer. Rose had met him once before. He had come down to Henrietta alongside his mother to attend Niall’s funeral. Apparently, Boyd had been Niall’s sparring partner she married and moved to New York. He’d been kind to Rose then but anyone who ran with Palmetto State’s ‘Monsters’ was someone to be wary of.

Seated on the couch were the infamous Minyard Twins. The two of them had stuffed their hair beneath black beanies and wore loose black t-shirts that made the bodies beneath them indiscernible. From prior knowledge, Rose knew at least one of them was a girl but, looking at them now, it was anyone’s guess as to which was which. They sat on opposite ends of the couch with one ankle crossed over their knee, an exy racquet laying across their laps. In anyone else, their mirrored motions would have been tacky but the twins radiated a dangerous energy.

Everyone knew that Erin’s rap sheet was a mile and a half long, including several counts of arson, assault, and implications of attempted murder. Just last year, Aaron had killed a man with an exy racquet. Suddenly the racquet resting between the two of them seemed far more sinister. Rose mustered up the strength to smile savagely at the two of them. The one on the left scowled. The one on the right returned Rose’s smile an equally twisted of their own. Gotcha, Rose thought. Only Erin Minyard would smile like that.

“Lynch,” a voice snapped. Rose turned her gaze to find Wymack leaning against the doorframe of his office. “If you’re done gawking, Abby needs to do your physical.” A petite woman with gray-streaked hair poked her head out of his office.

“Oh, Rose! I didn’t even know you’d arrived.” The woman, Abby, stepped out of the office and started towards Rose. “Did you drive out here? How was it?” she asked. Ania was standing beside Day now. Abby paused by her and smoothed down her hair. “Ania didn’t cause you any trouble, did she?”

“I’m so glad to see that you trust me, Mom,” Ania said. Abby laughed and tugged at a strand of Ania’s hair.

“Just checking,” she teased. “Come on, Rose,” she called as she brushed past her to open up the door Rose had stopped beside. Abby kept up a constant stream of chatter while she sorted through her equipment. She instructed Rose to sit up on the table and take her shirt off. Normally, Rose would have insisted on making things as difficult as she could but she knew she had to reserve her strength for whatever the Monsters had in store for her. Shucking her shirt off, she did as she was told. Abby’s physical took little over ten minutes. It only passed ten because she’d spent a good portion of it admiring the tattoo on Rose’s back.

When Abby did release Rose, she did so with a warning. “The twins won’t be as bad this year as they used to be. Not with Ania around, at least. I suggest you ingratiate yourself to her. She’s your best chance at surviving. If not, Matt will do.” With that, she smiled at Rose before ushering her out of the office. “Who’s next?” she asked the assembled kids. Erin got up and headed for the door. She bumped Rose’s shoulder, hard, as she passed.

“Oops,” she said, another smile twisting her face.

“Minyard,” Wymack barked. He shot her a warning glance. She simply shrugged before entering the office. “Here’s your keys, Lynch.” Wymack chucked a pair of keys at Rose’s head. She caught them without looking. “I know I’m going to regret this, but you’re rooming with Minyard and Josten. I’d rather you in there than Patel.” Oh, sweet Jesus, they’re actually trying to kill me.

“Do you want us to come help you move in?” Ania asked.

“I’m good,” Rose said a little too quickly. A look passed between the monsters. Finally, they turned to look at Wymack. He just shrugged and turned back to his office. He grumbled something about getting their physicals done before they left as he retreated into his office.

“Might as well move Erin’s things into the dorm,” Ania said. “I’ll drive.” Aaron got off the couch and crossed the room to stand by her side. Rose clenched her jaw. Just the thought of being in a room with Nathan Wesninski’s daughter was enough to set her hands shaking. To share a bedroom, to sleep in the bed beside her, was unthinkable. If Rose backed down now, they’d call her out in her cowardice. She couldn’t have that. Like her father, Rose relied too heavily on bravado and a facade to maintain her standing amongst people. She needed the Monsters to fear her or they’d eat her alive.

“Whatever,” she said. Turning on her heel, she closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she went back the way she’d come. Behind her, she could hear Ania and Aaron talking to each other in another language that she recognized as German. She kicked herself mentally for not taking up Declan’s offer to teach her some a few years prior. She made a note to start learning. If Aaron spoke German, there was a good chance his sister did too. Sharing a room with Ania and Erin constantly chattering away in German would wreck Rose. Were they discussing Exy plays? Were they plotting Rose’s demise? She’d never know if she didn’t learn.

“Nice car,” Aaron said as he dragged a hand over the hood of the BMW. Rose was about to thank him when he spoke again. “But mine’s nicer,” he said. Digging a key out of his pocket, he pointed it at the car Ania had been sitting on. Upon closer inspection, Rose realized that it was a Maserati. All of Rose’s pretenses melted away.

“Bad. Ass,” she whispered. She ran her own hand over the sleek black car. A part of Rose’s brain screamed at her stop getting along with him. A bigger part of her was chanting ‘CarCarCarCarCar’. She stepped back as Ania unlocked the door and got in. Rose’s knees nearly gave out beneath her at the sound of the engine purring to life. Jealousy was an emotion Rose was incredibly familiar with. Still, she’d never ached so badly for anything in her life. God, that car was amazing. Rose wondered if she’d ever get to see the inside of it or, God forbid, get behind the wheel. She nearly fainted at the prospect alone.

“Know you’re way to the dorms?” Ania asked.

“No,” Rose admitted. Ania nodded and told her to follow them. She waited as Rose got into her own car. As soon as she did, Ania started out of the parking lot. Normally, Rose would have tailgated her just to get on her nerves but the thought of wrecking that beautiful car was too much for Rose to bear. Keeping a safe distance, Rose followed them to Fox Tower. The gears in her brain spun as she tried to piece together some kind of plan. What the hell was she going to do? What were the Monsters planning? Would she even survive this?

Suddenly, Rose’s chest ached, remembering that Addy wasn’t here to have her back. If Parrish was here, she’d run her hand over Rose’s close-cropped hair, lean over the console, and press a kiss to the hollow of Rose’s cheek. She’d tell Rose to stop thinking so hard before she hurt herself. She’d tell Rose to leave the planning to her. But Addy wasn’t here and Rose was alone. Hauling herself out of her car, Rose grabbed her stuff out of the passenger seat. Aaron eyed Rose’s duffle bag and backpack as she approached the curb. Both he and Ania carried a crate piled high with things. Aaron had a backpack slung over his shoulder as well.

“That’s more than I had,” Ania offered.

“That’s because she isn’t a runaway,” Aaron replied. Ania laughed before saying something in German. Aaron’s ears were exposed despite the cap pulled down over his hair. They burned brightly at whatever it was Ania had said. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 218% but Rose didn’t understand what that was about. She followed the pair up three flights of stairs to the room. Ania set the crate down and Rose was acutely aware of Aaron staring at Ania’s ass. Disgusting, she thought to herself.

It seemed that Ania noticed too. She said something to him in German once more. His scowl reappeared and his ears burned brighter. Hadn’t Ania said she had a girlfriend? Was she really hitting on Aaron while Rose was standing right there? Rose said a silent prayer for whoever was dating this traitorous piece of shit.

Picking the crate back up, Ania shoved the door open with her hip. Rose watched as the two of them stepped into the room. Rose hesitated at the threshold for only a fraction of a second. Grow a pair, she told herself and stepped into the room.

Rose entered into what looked like a common room. It was already furnished with three desks lined up side by side against the window. A flatscreen t.v. was mounted to a wall. A plush couch sat facing it, a coffee table before it. Two beanbags lay on their sides in front of it. A PlayStation was already hooked up to the t.v., the home screen on.

“You’ll play us some time, yeah?” Ania asked. Rose gave her a noncommittal grunt. Ania laughed. She continued to the bedroom, opening the door with one hand. She dropped the crates onto the lower bunk. “Eri and I’ll take the bunks. You’ve got the loft.” Rose tossed her stuff up while Aaron dumped his own crate onto the bunk. They left Rose to unpack.

It didn’t take long. She stuffed her clothes into the dresser and plugged her dead laptop in to charge. She lined the few books she’d brought with her up on the window ledge. At the end of the stack, she placed the bookend Gansey had carved for her in shop class. God, she missed Gansey. He’d said he’d call her today, 10 p.m sharp, her time. She set an alarm on her phone so that she wouldn’t miss it. Turning back to the duffle, her gaze snagged on the photo frame. Don’t, she told herself. She picked it up anyway. Her heart sank as she turned it over the reveal the photo it held. It was a photo of Rose marching through the town, dragging Matt behind her in his little wagon. An exasperated Declan ran behind them, his arms loaded with the toys Matt kept throwing out of the wagon. Rose shoved the picture frame back into the bag. She picked up the c.d. player that played whatever song her heart desired in a beautifully soft, rasping voice.

Rose heard Ania curse from the living room. Winding up her headphones, she stuck the cd player into her pocket. She headed into the other room to find Ania and Aaron waiting for her. Ania’s hair was messy and unbound, Aaron’s clothes rumpled. Both of their lips were swollen. Rose shoved through them. God save Josten’s girlfriend. She doesn’t deserve this. She hurried down the stairs to her car. She drove back to the court, Ania at her tail this time.

Time goes on and the twins keep their act up really well. No one but Kevin, Katelyn, and Ania know who’s who. It’s hella weird, especially for Nicky, because this is what he’d assumed the twins would be like when he first met them but they’d been too broken to pull off such a flawless ruse. However, now that they’ve got their sessions with Bee, they’re on the road to recovery and they do some stereotypical twin stuff (ex. Dressing the same and tricking people into believing that they’re the other twin. They do still dress as themselves for class. It’s just something they do when the Kits are around. Some days Erin wears a binder to flatten her chest and pass as her brother. Some days Aaron wears a stuffed bra. It makes him feel stupid but binders can be dangerous and he doesn’t want his sister getting hurt.)

Despite rooming with Erin, Rose still doesn’t really know what’s up. Sometimes, Rose will catch Ania canoodling with who she thinks is Aaron. Other times, she comes back from class to find Erin’s hair wild and messy and Ania’s face flushed with exertion. She doesn’t know the specifics of Ania’s relationship so she tries to stay out of it but she’s anger on behalf of Ania’s girlfriend. How could Ania, or anyone, cheat on their partner? Not only is Ania cheating, she’s cheating with the goddamn twins.

A lot of times, Rose and Ania are paired off against one another so there’s a lot of aggression on the court. Wymack doesn’t like it but he knows that the Foxes need to figure themselves out. All the other Kits have fallen in line, with minor weekly outbursts from Jack and Sheena. Rose and Ania have come close to blows but nothing’s ever happened… yet

It’s the week before school starts when Rose is coming back from the corner store that she sees it. Nearing her bedroom, she can hear soft moans from behind the door. With a frown, she unlocks the door to find Ania and Erin making out on the couch.

That’s it. That’s the final straw. She always knew something was up between Erin and Ania but now she’s seen it with her own two eyes. She marches out of the room and doesn’t return. The next time she sees either of them is at practice that night. On the court, Rose is going hard. Wymack calls time after Rose slams Ania into the glass so hard that there’s now a crack in it. Do you know how strong those walls are? Do you understand how hard Rose had to have hit her for that?

Ania is on the ground wheezing. Black spots darken her vision. She’s almost sure she’s going to pass out. Rose barely manages to duck as Erin takes a swipe at her head with her racquet. They aren’t even on Erin’s side of the court. It took her .5 seconds to make it to the other end of the court when Ania went down. All of the upperclassmen are there pulling her back. She’s bared her teeth and fighting savagely, screaming and swearing. Rose has never seen Erin so worked up. Everyone was so focused on Erin that no one was Kevin coming. One second Rose was on her feet, the next she was two feet off it with her back slammed up against the plexiglass. It was at that moment, Rose knew, she’d fucked up. Practice is called to an end entirely as Wymack pried Kevin off of Rose. Ania is taken to Abby and both Erin and Kevin are dragged away by Wymack. Before leaving, Wymack hisses at Rose telling her that she’d better be in his office by the time he gets back.

So Rose retreats to the office to wait for the girls to clear out of the locker room. Is she still mad at Ania? Absolutely. Did she handle the situation correctly? Absolutely not. Ania’s love life wasn’t her business but Rose had meddled anyway. If Wymack and the monsters didn’t kill her, Addy definitely would. Adeline told her not to mess with anyone, especially not the twins.

After a few hours, Rose could no longer bear to wait for Wymack. Abandoning the office, she returned to the court. Stepping onto it without her gear, she beelined for the cracked glass. With light fingers, Rose traced the cracks. In her head, the cracking noise of the glass replayed itself growing louder and louder each time. It sounded eerily like the sound of a man’s skull being cracked open with a crowbar. Rose shut her eyes to ward off the sound only to get sucked back into the memory. Suddenly Rose was fourteen again, laying beneath the undercarriage of her father’s car as Nathan Wesninski stalked forward. A rusted crowbar was held loosely in one of his hands, dragging behind him as he walked. Her father had just barely opened his mouth when the crowbar came up, swinging right at his head. The deafening crunch of her father’s skull cracking open filled her ears. Rose clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle the screams that rose from within her. She watched in horror as Nathan beat the corpse to a bloody pulp, cursing her father’s name all the way.

“You said we were friends!” Nathan screamed at the mutilated corpse, swinging in the crowbar again. “You told me you’d be there for me.” Bones snapped beneath the crowbar. Nathan sunk to his knees and Rose saw the tears streaming down his face. “You told me you loved me!” he sobbed as he pounded on her father’s chest. Sobs wracked Nathan’s frame as she clutched the corpse to his own chest. “You told me you’d always love me,” he whispered over and over to himself. The sun had nearly set by the time, Nathan finally collected himself enough to look up from Niall’s dead body. As he did, his gaze snagged on Rose. It didn’t matter how well Rose could fight. All of her training flew out the window as she saw the icy blue eyes set deep into the tear-stained face now watching her. Nathan got up and walked toward the car. Every one of Rose’s instincts told her to run but she, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move. She commanded her body to move. It refused to acknowledge her at all.

Rose’s thoughts snapped back to the imminent danger in front of her as she heard the crunch of gravel. Nathan knelt down before her, bending down to see beneath the car. A trembling hand reached out and caressed her cheek, smearing her father’s blood across her face. “You look just like your father,” was all Nathan said.

It was all Ania said from behind Rose. Whirling around, Rose realized that the monsters had surrounded her. Ania stood at the center of the semicircular formation they’d assumed. Kevin and Erin stood framing her. It was definitely Erin. Her chin-length hair had been bound in a messy bun atop her head and she was wearing only a bra beneath her open jacket.

“Listen up, Lynch, because I’m not going to repeat myself,” she said, taking a step forward. Rose instinctively took a step back. From the corner of her eye, she saw Aaron’s lips curl into a cruel smile. Shit. She’d been wrong from the start. “I don’t take kindly to people who touch things that are mine. I’d tell you to ask the last person who did, but Riko’s dead.” Rose saw the way Ania and Kevin flinched at the name. “I’ve got half a mind to take you back to the dorms and carve the flesh from beneath your skin.”

“Erin,” Ania said. A note of warning colored her words.

“But, as you can see, Ania isn’t too keen on the idea. I don’t know what you’re damage is and I honestly don’t care but I can’t say no my little junkie. So, how about this?” Erin asked. She took another step forward and slipped a punch past Rose’s defenses. Rose was on her knees before she knew it. Erin’s thick-soled boot shoved Rose down and onto her back. It’s weight rested on Rose’s neck, cutting off her breath. Scrabbling beneath her, Rose tried desperately to get Erin off of her. “Come to Columbia. Spend one night out with us and I’ll let bygones be bygones.” A corner of Erin’s lip twitched upwards. “That is if you survive.” Rose’s heart was racing.

“Fine,”she choked.

“Wondrous,” Erin replied. It was anything but wondrous. The second Erin lifted her boot from Rose’s throat, Rose was on her feet, fists swinging. Erin caught the first punch easily and twisted Rose’s arms. A war cry tore from Rose. She swung her other fist only to stop short from connecting at the press of a blade against her throat. “Oh, this won’t do. This won’t do at all,” Erin said softly. “I let you live because Ania asked me too. If you ever try to hurt me or my family again, I will not be so forgiving.” A sharp pain ripped through Rose’s as the blade sliced across the length of her body. Nothing vital had been hit but Rose could feel the blood pouring from the wound.

“Erin!” Ania cried.

“She had to be taught a lesson,” Erin snarled. With that, she stalked off the court. All of them stood paralyzed for a moment. Ania was the first to snap out of her stupor. She ordered Aaron after his sister and demanded that Nicky leave. Kevin was to bring her the first aid kit and then wait with Nicky in the car. Stepping forward, Rose watched as the ice in Ania’s eyes thawed. For the first time, Rose looked Ania in the eye and didn’t see Nathan. Instead, she saw the little girl that Rose had chased through fields of wheat. Rose saw the girl whose laughter in which she’d basked like a cat beneath the sun. For the first time, Rose looked Ania in the eye and saw her best friend.

“Rose,” Ania called. It was obvious that she’d said it more than once. “Let me see the cut.” Ania’s tone left no room for argument. She sat heavily down on the court floor, back to the wall once more as Ania inspected the cut. After Kevin delivered the kit, Ania carefully cleaned the wound and sewed it shut. Running delicate fingers over her handiwork, Ania didn’t seem all there. “Rose,” she said softly. “No more fighting. Not in front of them. If you have a problem with me, that’s fine. We settle this on our own but if you ever raise another hand at Erin again, her blades will be the least of your problems.” Suddenly, all the pieces clicked into place.

“Erin’s your girlfriend,” she whispered. Ania just nodded. Surveying her work one last time, Ania got to her feet.

“Come on. It’s late and you’re going to need your sleep. I nearly dozed off my first time on the way to Columbia and Erin punched me so hard the bruise didn’t fade for almost a month.” Ania was headed for the door before Rose could ask her anything.

The next night the monsters head out to Columbia. It goes down as you would expect it to. Instead of taking Kevin and Nicky though, Matt tags along. He rides upfront because his legs are too long for the backseat. Rose is smushed in between Aaron and Ania but it isn’t all bad. Ania holds Rose’s hand the entire way.

Rather than drugging her outright, Erin simply exploits Rose’s overly competitive nature and drinking problem. Slipping half of her shots over to Aaron, Erin stays sober while Rose drinks herself into a stupor.

That doesn’t work. The drunker Rose gets, the more violent she gets. There’s a physical altercation with one of the other Eden’s patrons and Rose gets her lights knocked out. They take her home. Rose wakes late the next morning with a splitting headache. Dead roses are suspended from the ceiling of the room she’s in. Crawling out of bed, she heads for the bathroom. On her way there, she pauses by the vanity. The entire vanity mirror is plastered with photos. Upon closer inspection, Rose realizes that they’re pictures of the monsters. There are hundreds of photos covering the mirror, an ungodly amount of which are photos of Ania. Rose feels her cheeks flush at the sight of a rather scandalous one featuring Ania, face flushed and wearing just a few scraps of lace that really didn’t cover anything as she layin the bed Rose was just in with her arms pinned above her head by hands attached to pale, scarred arms. Little black hearts had been drawn around Ania’s form. Dragging her eyes away from the photo, Rose’s gaze snagged on a picture frame that stood on the vanity. Rose felt the breath catch in her lungs at the sight of it. It was an old photo, one that Rose couldn’t remember taking but on a day she remembered well.

In the photo, two girls are sitting on a blanket in a meadow, holding hands and smiling brightly into the camera. Both of them are dressed in their Sunday best with a pair of matching white shoes. It was a photo of Rose and Ania at the church’s annual Easter picnic in Henrietta. Rose wondered how Erin had gotten her hands on the picture. Ania, she realized. She grabbed the picture frame and wrestled the back off before slipping the photo out of the frame. Folding it neatly, she pocketed the photo. As she turns, she finds herself facing Ania and Erin. Shit.

“First you hurl my girlfriend into the glass and you tried to punch me. I invite you out to Columbia and you get your lights knocked out so I offer you a place, not just in my home, but my own bed. And here you are, repaying my kindness by stealing from me?” Erin shook her head in mock disappointment. “Maybe it’s time to add another dead rose to my ceiling,” she mused. Her voice was devoid of all emotion but her anger showed in the blade that was once again threatening to slice open Rose’s skin.

“Do you know what it means?” Rose asked, leaning her head back to stare up the flower corpses. She didn’t wait for Erin to answer. “Romans hung roses from the ceiling to signal that anything said while beneath the influence of spirits would remain confidential. Seeing as I’m still a little drunk, I’ll tell you everything but only if you agree to honor that.” A tense silence settled over the room. Rose waited as the two of them shared a long look. Finally, Erin turned her gaze back to Rose.

“Fine,” she agreed. A scowl curled her lips as she crossed her arms. Rose shifted her gaze to Ania. Icy blue eyes set deep into a puffy sleep-deprived face stared back.

Taking a deep breath, Rose said the words out loud for the first time in four years. “Nathan Wesninski killed my father.”

She goes on, explaining the banishment of her and her brothers from their home, the Headmaster’s offer to Addy and the tapes they’d found in his home. She recounted what she knew of kidnapping and rape of Juliet, and the torture Declan faced in Evermore with great difficulty, knowing that both of them had done it to protect her. As she told her story, she watched the myriad of emotions playing across Ania’s face. Tears marched steadily down her face as she realized just how much damage her father had done in his quest to get her back. Unable to bear her emotions, she leaves the room at the end of Rose’s story. Rose doesn’t see her again until they’re in the car on the way home from Columbia. Ania doesn’t say a word but, again, she holds Rose’s hand the whole way.

After Columbia, the aggression between Rose and Ania ends. They’re still not friends though, partially because Erin doesn’t let Rose too close to Ania and partially because Rose still feels bad for interfering. It hurts Ania’s feelings just a little because she thinks Rose is punishing her for what her father did. That’s no longer the case. Just as Ania has put aside her hatred of Riko to care for Cleo, Rose now sees past her own blind rage at the girl she once called her friend. Both of them really just want their friend back.

The reason Erin keeps interfering is because she still doesn’t believe she’s good enough for Ania. For a significant portion of last year, she was convinced Ania and Kevin would get together. In her head, she’s just a phase. Erin knows now that Kevin and Ania see each other as siblings which finally. With that knowledge, she was finally starting to let herself believe that she and Ania could be more than just a hookup. Erin’s known for a while that Ania and Rose had been childhood friends. It scared her to see the way Ania’s eyes glaze over and the faint smile that tinged her lips when she talked about Rose.

What if Ania leaves her for Rose? Look, Rose is hot as hell, alright. I mean, she’s swole. She’s so strong that she can, and has, bench-pressed Nicky. That buzzcut? Every time Erin sees it, she swoons just a little. And Erin? She’s short and fat. Rose’s skin is as perfect, unmarred by the scars and stretch marks running across Erin’s entire body. The tattoo on her back is a testament to the beautiful mind that lurked behind that beautiful face. Even Erin found herself outmatched by Rose’s wit. Nothing Erin did or said ever managed to make Ania laugh the way Rose did.

Rose Lynch wasn’t going to steal the love of Erin’s life. No, Ania was going to leave Erin for a woman who’d already proven that she could love her better than Erin could. Erin’s chest aches every time she sees Ania. Every night on the roof, she kisses Ania until her lips go numb. On Saturday mornings in Colombia, she wakes early to engrave every detail of Ania’s body into her mind in preparation for the day Ania leaves her.

One night on the roof, Ania moans her name and Erin comes up from between her legs to watch her. Ania’s eyes are closed, her face flushed. Her hair’s a mess and Erin can see the cloudy puffs of her breath in the cold night. Ania’s lips are quaking as badly as her legs as she smiles at Erin. Fuck. If Rose wants Ania, she’s going to have to pry her from her cold dead hands.

Of course, none of this is actually a problem.

Matt doesn’t look anything like Matthew but their personalities are incredibly similar so Rose is drawn to him. Rose suffers from ADD and because Matt is accustomed to dealing with Erin’s ADHD, he’s really good with Rose. He gets special permission from Wymack and the tutors to become Rose’s personal tutor because there literally isn’t anyone that’s capable of handling her other than him. He would be Erin’s tutor too but she’s making straight A’s without even trying.

Allison and Rose aren’t fond of each other but they’ve got each other’s back when it’s important. Some guy tried to take an up-skirt photo of Allison while she wasn’t paying attention and Rose punched so hard she nearly stopped his heart.

Renee is super sweet and it makes Rose’s heart ache because she reminds her a lot of her mother. Renee wants to take Rose under her wing but Rose always feels like she’s betraying her real mother by letting Renee take care of her. Rose really loves Renee though.

Dan and Rose butt heads a lot because Rose has authority issues. Ania usually has to intervene before they start throwing hands. They’re also always competing in drinking games. Technically, Rose always wins but it doesn’t feel that way when she wakes up the next morning with barely enough time to stick her head in a trash can to retch her guts out.

Jack and Sheena are dating. Their relationship is very similar to the one Allison and Seth had. Rose appreciates their snark unless they’re giving Ania a hard time. Rose is always squaring up with someone but she’s gotten into the most physical altercations with the two of them, usually for messing with Ania.

Robin is baby. He’s already been adopted by Erin and Renee as the third member of the disaster gay goalkeeps. He has a crush on Ollie. Ollie is straight tho :’) Erin helps heal his heartbreak with several tubs of ice-cream and a large selection of romcoms. Renee invites Rose to come help so she attends their little party, much to Erin’s dismay. Erin gives Ania extra cuddles during the movies because she’s still trying to prove to Ania that she’s better than Rose. Her one-sided rivalry is hilarious. Ania is also entirely clueless. She’s just enjoying all the smooches.

Tangent but I want to talk about them being soft. Skip to the next bullet if you don’t want to hear me gush about the girls. Thank you for not skipping. Rose spends a lot of her time with Matt, Renne, or Robin during the weekends. That means that Erin and Ania have the dorms to themselves. They wake up late on Saturdays because Erin refuses to let Ania out of bed until lunch. Instead, they lay facing each other beneath the covers of Erin’s bed. Sometimes they trade secrets. Not like the ones they shared on the roof. These are sweet secrets. Ania will tell Erin things like her favorite flower and her favorite songs. Erin will admit that she likes it when Ania calls her pet names and letting Ania wash her hair for her. There’s a lot of muffled giggling from beneath the sheets as Erin peppers Ania’s face with kisses. Sometimes they just lay there, staring at each other, happy and in love. SOMETIMES ERIN WILL LET ANIA BE THE BIG SPOON! It’s so great. It takes some getting used to for her but eventually she relaxes enough to enjoy it. Her ears are always bright red when they cuddle like this because Ania will whisper all the things she loves about Erin to her. When they finally do get out of bed, it’s already noon and Erin goes to make lunch for them. She always carries Ania out of the room and sets her on the counter to watch. Ania isn’t allowed to help because she always leaves a big mess. Instead, she sits beside the stove and taste tests all of Erin’s creations. A lot of Erin’s cooking ends up being a little burnt because Ania is being a distraction.

Kevin sees a lot of potential in Rose. He’s going to make her court but sometimes he pushes too hard. Again Ania has to intervene. Off the court, they’re drinking buddies. Oddly enough, Rose is a bit of a history buff. The two of them have a Drunk History youtube channel that they film for every other Saturday night.

Rose isn’t super religious but she used to go to church every Sunday for Matt. Despite not living with him anymore, she can’t seem to drop the habit. It takes a while to pin down a church to go to so she just goes to anything she can find. None of them are any good. It’s almost November when she steps into a new one. Mass has already started and all the pews are full. Collapsing into a pew, she hears a familiar voice hiss her name. She turns to see Nicky sitting beside her. Shook. There aren’t any other pews so she stays where she is. At the end of Mass, she rockets out of her seat and heads for her car. Pulling out of the crowded lot, she sees that Nicky is walking home. Rose should just drive home. There’s no point in getting involved with the monsters. With a groan, she pulls lays on the horn and watches as he jolts. Pulling over, she rolls down her window. Nicky hurries over to talk to her. She offers him a ride home. On the way back she asks why he doesn’t just borrow Erin’s car. That’s when she learns that Ania bought the car for Erin.

“Eri’s incredibly selfish. She won’t share anything Ania gives her. Last week, Ania gave her a neon wristband. Erin hates those but I wear them all the time so I asked her if I could have it. She nearly bit my head off!” He cried. Shaking his head, he smiled. “It’s kinda cute, though. Ania’s given Erin a lot of things she doesn’t like but she’s never said a word. There’s a little box in the space under her bed. It’s full of all the things Ania gave her.” When Rose gets home, she checks under the bed. Sure enough, there’s a box under there. Picking the lock is easy. There’s a lot of things in the box: scrunchies, napkins with covered in fox paws, exy keychains, tubes of lipstick, and a t-shirt to name a few. Rose recognizes the last item as the piece Ania had been complaining about losing. A smile curled her lips as she remembered Erin denying any knowledge of where the shirt was. She thinks Erin and Ania are adorable. Ironically enough, she’s actually the biggest supporter of their relationship.

Aaron and Rose are often on the same team for scrimmages. Because of Erin’s obvious dislike of Rose, Aaron automatically hates her but they’re amazing on the court together. They don’t interact much off the court until he starts having a few relationship problems with Katelyn. Rose makes an off-handed comment on what he could do to fix it. At first, he brushes it off. Things get p bad and he ends up taking her advice. It works spectacularly. They end up consulting each other a bit about relationship problems/complaining/gushing over their respective partners.

Speaking of partners, Ania knows about Addy. Every night after practice, Rose has the dorm to herself so she skypes Addy. It goes against her no phone rule but her nightly conversations with Addy are the only thing keeping her sane. She doesn’t say much, content to listen to Addy complain about school. Despite being almost a hundred miles away, Addy always knows exactly what Rose is thinking. Before signing off each night, Addy makes sure she tells Rose she loves her. She always laughs as Rose goes red in the face and mumbles it back. One night, Erin was having a bad day so she’d decided to crash at Wymack’s and Rose was out doing something or the other. So Ania is alone in the dorms by herself late one night. She hears the little Skype line ringing on Rose’s computer and picks up. She greets Addy and informs her that she’s Rose’s roommate. Addy takes the opportunity to ask if Rose is doing as well as she claims to be. Assuring Addy that Rose is doing fine, Ania asks who Addy is and that’s how she learns about their relationship. The girls spend a few hours talking about Rose before finally signing off. They exchange phone numbers and Ania keeps tabs on Rose for Addy. It gives her peace of mind to know that there’s someone taking care of her Rosie.

They also bond over being ‘moms’. While Ania is out here in Palmetto babysitting Cleo, Addy is out doing the same for Opal. At this point, Opal is about nine. She is placed in a special ed class because she has a physical disability (her hooves make it hard to walk) and appears to have an ‘emotional disturbance’ (That's the actual category it’s called. While I do work with special ed students, I’m not very well-versed in the specifics so I’m sorry if the way I said it is incorrect/offensive. Please leave a message if it’s a problem and help me correct it). It’s really hard on Addy to be raising a kid but Declan had the credentials to transfer schools. He’s there with Matt and his new girlfriend to help her out. The only financial help that Addy accepts from Rose is the money she needs to raise Opal.

Everyone else doesn’t learn about Addy until they’ve got a game against Yale. All of them head-up there, super excited for the game. Yale’s exy team is always just short of making it to finals each year but they’ve been doing well this year. Rose is a bit nervous because, for the first time, she and Declan are going to be playing against each other. She’s all nerves when she steps off the bus. The Yale coach is there to greet them. Behind her is a familiar form. Rose runs and leaps at her brother and Declan catches her easily. It’s been so long since they’ve seen each other and, as much as they’d hate to admit it, they really missed each other.

Trash talking ensues but they’ve got wide smiles on their faces all the while. The game is one for the history books. Erin is the best goalkeep in the south and Declan the best in the Northeast. Their striker line is all freshman but they’re feisty. The games ends up running a half an hour overtime where the striker lines take shots on the opposing goals. Declan misses Ania’s shot by just a hair and the Foxes win. Ania collapses on the court and the Foxes rush out to her. They carry her off the court on their shoulders, cheering wildly. As they’re doing so, Ania spots Addy and calls out to her. She’s standing by the entrance to Yale’s home team's locker room with Opal to wait for Declan. Rose hears Addy’s name and her heart stops. Suddenly she’s running. She sweeps Addy off her feet and spins her around, crashing into the wall behind them. Rose Lynch does not cry from the sheer amount of joy she feels having her queen back in her arms. No, siree. No tears here.

Addy kisses Rose in front of everyone and Opal gags because her moms are being gross. Ania manages to get down and goes over to shake Addy’s hand. Thanking her profusely, Addy pulls Ania in for a hug. She’s excited to meet Erin because Ania talks about her all the time.

Just like that, any animosity Erin has for Rose dissipates. She sees the love in Rose’s eyes and knows that her own standing with Ania isn’t at stake. It never was. Sure, Rose is all that Ania deserves but Rose would never love her as much as she loved this girl.

It’s mid-December at this point and Christmas break plans need to be made. Nicky is headed to Germany to visit Erik. Aaron is going with Katelyn to meet her parents and stay at their cabin in Switzerland. Rose is headed back to Henrietta to spend Christmas with Addy and Oapl. She decides to invite Ania and Erin over. Ania agrees readily. She absolutely adored Henrietta as a kid and she’d love to get to visit again. Erin goes because the last Christmas Ania spent away from her didn’t go well.

Speaking of last Christmas, at exactly 12 a.m. last year, Riko Moriyama gave herself a present. Ania had woken to find her face buried in the pillow, a piercing pain growing at her back. At 12 a.m. last Christmas, Riko carved her name into Ania’s back so that everyone knew exactly who she belonged to. At 12 a.m. Ania woke to Rose pouring a bucket of ice water over her head. Chucking a towel at her, Rose told her to hurry and get up. Ania ran after her, shivering. She got into the passenger seat beside Rose, questions whirling through her brain. They pulled up at a tattoo parlor at the heart of town. They entered to find a man sitting in a stool, waiting for them. Rose pulled out a sheet of paper and asked Ania to list a few things she wanted in the tattoo. Ania is standing there like tattoo???? Who said anything about a tattoo?????? Rose looks at Ania like she’s the crazy one. She tells her they’re getting a tattoo to cover the scars on her back.

“There’s nothing wrong with having scars. They’re symbols of all the battles that you’ve won but that? That wasn’t a battle. That was someone marking you. It’s time you took back what’s yours,” Rose said. Ania nodded sharply. She listed off a few things and Rose pieced together a beautiful design.

The finished design? A wreath of thorns that covered much of the damage. Gardenias blossomed through it and little foxes peered through from little crevices. At the center of the wreath, stood a single doe.

Erin doesn’t get to see the tattoo until a few weeks later because Ania is waiting for it to heal before she shows her. She knows instantly that Rose designed it. She feels tears welling in her eyes.

“You told me to give Kevin my game and my back to you.”

Erin feels bad for every doubting Ania’s feelings for her. She convinces Rose to give her free reign of the house for a bit. Erin spends hours worshipping Ania, kissing, licking and biting over every one of her scars. She spoils her, letting Ania have whatever she wants from her. Sitting atop her, Erin undoes the buttons of her shirt, slowly, deliberately. She watches Ania’s eyes grow wide. Sure, Ania has seen her shirt off whenever they change out in the locker room but this is different. This is for her. All for her. Ania understands the trust she’s being shown when Erin tells her she can touch anything above the waist. Ania’s on cloud nine. She doesn’t think this can get any better but as they’re lying side by side in bed, Erin manages to croak out the words “I love you”, something she’s only done once before. :’)))

But I digress.

While they’re at the Barns, Erin does some snooping. She finds her way to one of the barns and creeps in. Climbing up to the loft, despite her fear of heights, Erin finds a little corner full of trophies. Upon closer inspection, she finds the name Niall Lynch engraved on them. After their father died, Declan moved all of his trophies up to the loft so that Rose wouldn’t have to see them. It didn’t matter in the end bc Niall wrote into the will that they weren’t allowed back home anyway. There are quite a few trophies, a few of those enormous belts and ribbons tacked to the wall. Next to one of them is a photo. It’s a picture of Niall and a woman after a match. The woman is holding a little boy that Erin recognizes immediately as Matt. He’s so smol and chubby. The only reason she recognizes him at all is his bright eyes and cheery smile. Erin feels her lips tugging up and curses herself for being a soft bitch. She unpins the photo and takes it with her. She knows Rose kept the picture of baby Ania. An eye for an eye, Erin thought to herself as she climbed down the ladder. Rose is waiting for her at the bottom, dressed in a large sweatshirt and athletic tights with boxing gloves over her shoulders. They stand there, staring at each other. Rose turns away first and heads to the opposite end of the barn. There’s a punching bag set up there along with some weights. Erin follows her. Rose offers her a pair of gloves and she slides them on before turning to face off against her. They don’t keep points. They just throw punches until neither of them can swing anymore. Collapsing on the floor, both of them lay panting as the sun’s final rays retreat from the barn. Rose gets up first. She offers Erin her hand and Erin takes it. They head back to the house to shower. Neither of them said a say a word. When Rose returns to the barn the same time the next day, she finds Erin already waiting for her.

During their time at the Barns, Erin meets Opal. She’s instantly in love with the little gremlin. They play together in the backyard and the forest. They also wage a prank war against Rose. It’s the middle of winter and a thin layer of snow blankets the place. Coming back in from shoveling snow off the driveway, Rose is greeted by a pail of icy water emptying over her head. There’s a snowball fight that gets so intense that Addy and Ania end up retreating to the patio to watch their girls fight.

CUDDLES BY THE FIRE! Addy and Rose curled up together on one couch with Ania and Erin in the other!!! Opal feels left out so they all shift to the fireplace and sit in front of it with Opal in the center. She’s such a spoilt little brat.

On the last day of their break, Rose is taking a stroll through the forest, taking it all in one last time before she has to leave. As she walks, she hears a girl singing in a soft, raspy voice. It’s the same voice that Rose hears on her cd player. She’s racing through the forest, vaulting over fallen trees as the snow crunches beneath her feet. The voice was louder now and Rose knew she was headed the right way. Bursting forth from the forest into a clearing, Rose sees a girl sitting on a fallen tree with her back to her. Her pale golden hair was unbound and blew softly in the wind. Rose took a step forward. Then another. She circled around the girl and caught sight of the blade she was sharpening. The girl’s voice crescendo as she dragged her gaze up from her knife to meet Rose’s. Beautiful hazel eyes now held Rose’s gaze. The corners of the girl’s lips curled in a mischievous smile. Flipping the blade shut, she stood and walked towards Rose.

“They’ll be looking for us,” she said before heading back the way Rose had come. Rose stood there a few minutes longer, paralyzed by her own disbelief. Rose heard the sound of Addy’s voice calling her name from across the forest. She turned and jogged back to the house, her mind whirling. Rose always figured she’d meet the girl who sang to her in the cd player in Cabeswater but never in a million years did Rose imagine that girl would Erin Minyard.

#just a pipe dream #fem!andreil asks #erin minyard #ania josten #rose lynch #adeline parrish #raven girls #fem!andreil

6 notes · View notes