#DID EVERYONE JUS MAGICALLY FORGET?

[tightjeansjavi]

Girl, I’ve never loved one like you

A/N: well, I have mixed feelings about this piece at the moment. I poured my heart and soul into this, and I hope everyone enjoys this story that truly touches home for me. In high school I always felt like an outcast because I wasn’t that girl that had a boyfriend, and I didn’t have dates to the school dances. I dreamed of having that magical prom night with the guy of my dreams. It never happened, and I moved on. Years later I sometimes wish I did get to experience that magical night. Well, now I get to, and it feels like a piece of my past is being healed. I know that not everyone will be able to relate to this experience, but I know there are those of you out there that will. Thank you for reading, and please be kind. 🩷

Pairing | AU high-school student! Joel Miller x high-school student! f! reader

~word count: 12.12k~

Summary: Senior Year, 1985, a month before prom and Joel Miller has yet to find himself a proper date, until he and Tommy stop in for a late night bite at your parents diner, and everything changes. Joel Miller gives you a prom night of your dreams that you’ll never forget…18 years later, you’re running into each other at the very same diner you first met.

Warnings: fluff, young love, meet-cute, injuries sustained from falling out of the bed of Joel’s truck, (please buckle up it’s the law) alcohol consumption, smoking, implied smut, right person wrong time, some negative feelings, reader gets harassed by a guy, Joel steps in, Joel is a total sweetheart, friends to lovers, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, reader’s nickname is darlin’ (+18) minors dni!

main masterlist

A truck door slams, gravel crunches under the weight of heavy worn boots as two teenage boys bicker.

“Ain’t you the least bit concerned about askin’ a girl to prom, Joel? It’s a month away, and you still haven’t asked a single gal? C’mon, what’s holdin’ ya back? Your mug ain’t as handsome as mine, but your charm oughta make up for it!” Tommy Miller was real good at getting under his brother's skin without even having to lift much of a finger.

“I ain’t concerned about findin’ myself a prom date cus’ I ain’t goin.’ It’s a silly dance that literally holds no personal value for me. I jus’ wanna graduate n’get out of this fuckin’ shit-hole town.” Joel gruffed a response back.

“Jus’ a silly dance? Brother, do ya hear yourself? It ain’t jus’a silly dance! For fuck sakes, it’s supposed t’be the night of our lives! One last hurrah before goin’ to college n’facin’ the real world.

The older by just a few months,Miller brother clenched his jaw tightly as he grinded his teeth together. He twirled his keys between his fingers absentmindedly. “Like I jus’ said, it’s jus’ a silly dance. Besides, even if I wanted to go, I ain’t have anyone in mind to ask. So can ya jus’ please drop it?” Joel grumbled as he grasped the handle to the diner door and swung it open.

“Well, that’s bullshit. I’m gonna make it my personal mission to find you a lucky gal to take to prom.” Tommy caught the edge of the door with his boot just as Joel tried to close it in his face.

“Yeah, lets not fuckin’ do that. I don’t need you findin’ me a prom date.” Joel snapped back as he shoved his hands deep into the worn out pockets of his worn out light-wash denim Levi’s.

Tommy snickered as he wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulder, “With an attitude like that, you ain’t gonna find a date. Dontcha worry, big brother, we’re gonna find ya a real nice gal.”

“I’m only a few months older than you, you fuckin’ hillbilly.” Joel grumbled under his breath.

“I’ll be with you boys in just a second! Do you want a booth or table?” You whizzed past the two brothers on your roller skates, holding a tray of burgers and fries above your head with ease. Your skates were light pink, with ruby red hearts stitched along the fabric. The laces were a creamy white color and there were three cherry-red heart beads on either side of the tied laces.

Joel cocked an eyebrow as you skated past without missing a step. He had half expected you to eat shit in those skates, but was thoroughly surprised that it didn’t happen. Even more so that the tray of food you were holding on the flat side of your palm, didn’t topple over.

“A booth would be great, thanks darlin.’” Tommy responded with a lopsided grin to which Joel immediately smacked him on the back of the head for.

“I thought you already asked Mackenzie Patterson to prom Tommy? I don’t think she’d appreciate it if she knew you were sendin’ heart eyes to another girl.” Joel lightly chuckled as he plopped down into the nearest booth that wasn’t occupied.

“Yeah, I did ask her but I wasn’t makin’ heart eyes at anyone.” Tommy flipped him off as he plopped down onto the other side of the booth.

“Uh-huh. Sure you weren’t.” Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes.

After grabbing two menus from the register, you glided over to your next customers with ease. It was easy work skating along the black and white checkered flooring. “Welcome to Patsy’s, here’s a couple menus for you, take your time, there’s no rush and whenever you’re ready, just give me a holler.” Your parents were more than willing to give you a job as a waitress at the diner they recently opened. You made decent tips, and for the most part, your job was pretty fun and easy-going for a highschool part-time job.

“Patsy’s, huh? Does that name hold any significant meanin’ to ya? Tommy inquired with genuine curiosity.

“Yeah, it’s actually named after my mom. It was my dad’s idea to name it after her. Pretty sweet, huh? Guess romance is truly alive and well.” Your response was light, and your smile was infectious. Joel didn’t want to admit it then, but your smile lit up the entire diner. It was brighter than the damn incandescent neon lights that flashed along the crystal clear windows.

“Romance is definitely alive and well. Awful sweet that your pops named this joint after your ma. Hey darlin’ you don’t happen to attend McCallum highschool, do ya? Never seen a pretty thing like you skatin’ around the halls.” Tommy effortlessly worked his sweet talk. It flowed out of his mouth like his own personal song. You already imagined that girls at school probably swooned at his very boots, just from his smooth Texas drawl alone.

It didn’t surprise you that a guy like Tommy Miller never noticed you in the passing period hallways. You kept to yourself for the most part. Being a teenager, let alone being a teenage girl was not easy in the slightest. You struggled to build friendships with girls in your class. They all would look at you funny when you participated in gym class, finished the homework on time and in their eyes, became the teacher's pet. You went to the mall with your mom and spent your weekends reading at home with your dog curled at your feet under a soft knitted blanket. You were happy..until you weren’t.

You couldn’t help but feel slightly envious towards the group of girls that went to the mall every Friday to buy a new outfit for whatever house parties were going on that weekend. You hadn’t even had your first sips of alcohol or tasted nicotine on your tongue. Truthfully? You felt like a loser because your highschool experience wasn’t exactly like the movies said it would be. Where the fuck was your Han Solo or Indiana Jones? Where was that one special guy to swoop in and sweep you off your feet, and single-handedly wipe out a quadrant of clone troopers with his blaster alone—

“Huh? Oh, highschool. Yeah, I’m a senior at Mccallum high.” You weren’t flustered over Tommy’s incessant style of flirting, you were flustered because you were thinking about Harrison fucking Ford.

“Don’t mind my brother. He’s a fuckin’ hillbilly, and our ma dropped him on his head when he was just an annoyin’ lil shit.” Joel’s eyes flitted up to yours over the top of the menu that was grasped between his hands. His Texas twang was deeper than his brothers, it had a distinguishable edge to it. Similar to the way that gooseflesh rises upon your skin when you hear something that is particularly delectable, and itches that figurative spot in your brain so good.

Did that make any sense? Who cares. All you could presently think about was how fuckin’ gorgeous this guy was. A total dreamboat, and you didn’t even know his name.

“It’s alright. I wasn’t offended or anything..but uh, can I get you guys something to drink maybe?”

“Yeah, you got any cherry cokes, darlin?’” Joel asked you casually.

“Cherry cokes? Yeah, of course! Coming right up.” You scribbled two cherry cokes onto your notepad before you skated away.

“That’s her.” Tommy uttered with a gleeful grin.

“What in the hell are you talkin’ about now?” Joel set his menu down with an annoyed sigh

“Brother, that’s the girl you’re goin’ to ask to prom.” Tommy gestured to the spot infront of the booth where you were just standing a few seconds prior.

“Her? No. I am not askin’ a total stranger to be my prom date.” Joel crossed his arms over his chest as he sank back into the cushioned seating of the booth.

“She ain’t a total stranger. She goes to our school! Never seen her around before, but does that really matter? She’s awfully pretty, and I bet you whatever I got in my wallet, she thinks you’re good lookin’ too. Take it from the guy who just knows what gals are interested in.”

“Do you ever fuckin’ think before you speak? Or does your brain not work the same way everyone else’s does? Again, she’s a stranger, and what makes you think she’d even want to go to prom with me, huh? Don’t be ridiculous Tommy.”

“No, you jackass. I just say whatever comes to mind and then make up the rest as I go. You’ll never know unless you try, big brother. Don’t act like I didn’t see the way you were lookin’ at her when she rode past in those skates. You were positively flabbergasted.”

“Yeah, cause I surely thought she was gonna eat shit on those things, and I was imagining the tray of burgers and fries smacking you right in your big-ass forehead.” Joel stifled a chuckle as Tommy leaned over the booth table and swatted his arm.

“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole sometimes I swear.”

“Yeah, well..you still love me so I can’t be that awful of a brother.”

Tommy was just about to reply with some snarky comment when you had skated back to the booth with two cherry cokes in hand, and placed them down in front of the brothers with two straws. “Are you guys ready to order, or do you need more time?”

“I think we’re all good here darlin.’ Thanks for bein’ a real peach. Now I’m gonna have the double bacon cheeseburger with crispy onion straws and a side of cheese fries..andmybrotherherewantstoaskyoutoprom.” Tommy blurted out suddenly, throwing you and Joel for a complete curveball.

Joel had just taken a sip of his cherry coke, and nearly spit it back into the cup as he glowered at his brother. He could feel the tips of his cheeks turning bright hot red as he sucked down a hefty sip of the sugary drink to hide his redness.

You felt like a deer in headlights as you scribbled down Tommy’s order as quickly as humanly possible. The heat was rising to your cheeks fast as you did your best to hide it. “Oo-Kay and for you?..”

“Jus’ a double cheeseburger and regular fries. Thanks, darlin.’” Joel presented you with his order without making eye contact as he was too busy thinking of all the ways he wanted to brutally murder Tommy with his bare hands. He was kind enough to grab both menus and hand them back to you with the tiniest reassuring nod.

“Coming right up!” You squeaked out before scurrying back to the kitchen area to put the order in.

“You’re fuckin’ dead, Tommy. Dead as a fuckin’ door nail I swear to god—”

“Look, I’m doin’ this for your own good Joel. You’re a sour puss, grumpy son of a bitch 99% of the time and you’re gonna grow a pair of goddamn balls and ask that girl out to prom. What’s the worst she could say? No? I don’t think she’s going to say no to you.”

“For fuck sakes..there’s a way to go about these things! Poor girl looked like a deer in fuckin’ headlights cus’ of your fuckin’ big ass blabber mouth.”

“A cute deer though.”

“My god, you are fuckin’ hopeless.” Joel uttered with an unenthusiastic sigh.

You were counting out your tips for the evening at the front register when Joel Miller sauntered up. His demeanor was casual, yet by the way his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, you could tell he was nervous..but perhaps even embarrassed?

“Hey darlin,’ jus’ wanted to personally apologize for my brothers behavior earlier. He really is a fuckin’ hillbilly sometimes, and I hope he didn’t uh—make you feel too uncomfortable. Anyway, jus’ need to pay the bill and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He was already pulling his wallet out of his back pocket when you threw him for a loop.

“I’m free on the weekends after seven.”

He was thumbing through his bills as he pulled out a $20 and placed it along the counter. He slowly looked up at you, cocking a brow at your sudden boldness that came out of left field. “..I’m sorry?”

“You want to take me to prom, right? Well, don’t you think we should go on a proper date and get to know one another before I agree to be your prom date?” You grabbed the $20 from the counter and placed it in the register as you counted out his change.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin’ confused right now. You want to get to know me? Look, I don’t even want to go to prom. It’s just a silly dance that I really have no interest in, and my brother is really the one who put me up to—”

“A simple no would have sufficed y’know. Regardless, what’s wrong with me wanting to get to know you? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have a lot going for me right now. What’s the harm of one date? Who knows, maybe you’ll actually have a good time.” You responded with a shrug.

“Keep the change, it’s for your tip. I wouldn’t exactly say that you don’t have a lot going for you. For starters, you're the only waitress here that knows how to skate..doesn’t that count for something? I suppose there wouldn’t be any harm of goin’ on one date. What’ll it be then? Dinner and a movie?” He was leaning his elbow against the side of the counter top as he reached into the jar of lollipops and pulled out a cherry flavored one. You couldn’t help but watch the way that his fingers effortlessly unwrapped the sweet and placed it between his lips.

He did that on purpose..right?

“Dinner and a movie sounds great. How about next Friday night? Pick me up around 7:30? I don’t believe I caught your name earlier either..should probably tell me what it is, right?” You gave him a little grin as you pushed the cash register drawer shut with a soft clink.

“Well, if I’m going to pick you up, I suppose I’ll be needin’ your phone number so that you can tell me your address? Or you could write it down..but what if I randomly want to call you up and tell you all about my shitty day? It’s gonna be hard for me to do that if I don’t have your number.” He gave you a little lopsided grin as he tilted his head to the side.

“Alright, well I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you my phone number in exchange for your name. That sounds like a pretty fair deal to me. What do you think?”

“Ain’t gonna be necessary for an exchange, darlin.’ I was just playin’ a little game with ya. Anyway, my name is Joel. The buffoon waitin’ in the parking lot is my brother Tommy. What kinda food are ya into?”

“I know you were, Joel. That’s why I played it right back.” You pulled out your little pen pad and wrote down your phone number and address. “Feel free to call me at random to tell me about your terrible, no good, rotten shitty day. I’d love to chat some more, but I have tables to wipe down. I’ll leave it up to you to pick out the restaurant.” You placed the piece of paper into his outstretched palm with a small grin playing on your lips.

“I like a girl that knows how to keep up with me. Nothin’ gets past you, huh?” He teased as he slipped the piece of paper into his back pocket. “Well, I’ll leave it to ya then. Wear somethin’ pretty, kay darlin?’” He shot you a playful wink before pushing himself off the edge of the countertop.

You desperately fought hard to not roll your eyes at his request to wear something ‘pretty’ “uh-huh. See ya around, Joel.” You brought your hand up to your forehead, giving him a little salute. Only when you were positive that he was back in his truck, and could no longer see you through the glass doors, you let out an excited squeal as you twirled in a tight circle on your skates.

Joel had an unmistakable pep in his step as he approached the drivers side door of his truck. Tommy was waiting for him, witn a cigarette perched between his lips, and an eyebrow raised in his brother’s direction. “What’s gotten you grinnin’ like a devil jus’ now?”

Joel reached into his back pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper and handed it to his brother. “I’ve got myself a date Friday night. I didn’t even have to ask her, she jus’ pretty much beat me to it.”

“Uh-huh. I am sure that’s exactly how it went.” Tommy snickered as he handed the folded note back, sinking into the seat as he took a long drag from the cigarette. “So, where are you and the lucky gal gonna go?”

“I was thinkin’ keepin’ it simple..dinner and a movie. She said I can pick the restaurant, so I was probably gonna take her to the nicest place in Austin.” he shrugged his shoulders before starting the ignition. “Or do ya think that’s too bold?”

“Damn, look at you! Wantin’ to treat a lady right. ‘Atta boy.” He reached over and lightly punched Joel in the shoulder.

“Jus’ like momma taught me.”

Joel Miller arrived thirty minutes before you had expected him to show up for your date. You were just finishing up on your makeup when you heard the familiar sound of truck wheels crunching along gravel. Your parents were at the diner all evening, so that left you at home to dance around the house while you got ready. You had pretty much demolished your closet as you struggled to figure out what to wear. The butterflies were already fluttering rapidly in your stomach. Joel wanted you to wear something ‘pretty’ but you didn’t like the way that any of your dresses fit currently, so that was out of the question. You opted for suede olive green lace up shorts, a floral tie up top and your favorite pair of baby sky-blue go-go boots.

A warm breeze moved freely through the open windows in Joel’s truck as he was casually smoking a cigarette with his forearm resting along the outside of the window. He glanced upwards to where he imagined your bedroom was. A grin was playing on his lips as he caught a glimpse of you dancing around through the billowing curtains. He could faintly hear Tainted Love, by Soft Cell playing through your portable radio. You were using your hair brush as a pretend microphone. You were a burst of fun-loving energy, and Joel was already feeling infected by it. He didn’t want to come across as a cliche and drop the classic ‘you’re not like other girls’ line, but how could he not? Especially when you were dancing like no one was watching.

A few minutes later Joel was being torn from his trance when he heard the porch door swing shut, and the sound of your go-go boots clicking down the wooden steps. He nearly dropped his cigarette from between his lips when he got a first look at your outfit. He had half expected you to wear a dress, but the outfit you picked was fitting for your personality. You looked beautiful, and now he was beginning to feel his own butterflies flapping in his stomach. He wolf whistled as he reached over and unlocked the door for you.

“Well, ain’t you just a sight for sore eyes? Christ, you look so goddamn pretty, darlin.’” The way that he was looking at you was the way that all girls dreamed of being looked at. His eyes held a certain twinkle to them that had you feeling weak in the knees. Were all those failed crushes about to finally pay off? Well, only time could tell.

“How long have you been waiting out here for?” You responded with a shy smile as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Long enough to see ya dancin’ to Tainted Love.” He chuckled.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you reached for the seatbelt, but he was already doing it for you. You got a proper whiff of his cologne, as he leaned over the center console. He smelled faintly of sawdust and cigarette smoke. His cologne was both sweet, and musky and god, did his hair look soft.

“You saw me dancing?”

“Mhm. You looked cute, and I swear I wasn’t bein’ a creep about it.” He slowly retracted himself after snapping your seatbelt in place.

“What can I say? Tainted Love just really gets me going.”

“Really? I totally couldn’t tell.” He teased as he slowly reversed down the driveway.

Your eyes zoned in on the collection of CD’s that were stored along the dashboard, and you wasted no time to grab the stack and flip through them. “Wow, you actually have good taste in music..i’m surprised.” You glanced over at him with a small grin. “Who’s your favorite?”

“I’m a big fan of Depeche Mode and Fleetwood Mac.” Responded as he rested one hand along the wheel, and the other on the center console. “You wanna pop one of those in?”

“Ahh, I love Stevie Nicks with my whole heart. Depeche Mode is really good too.” You gently opened one of the CD cases and placed the disk that you chose into the player. “So, are you gonna tell me where we’re going to dinner, or is it going to be a surprise?”

“Hmm..I could tell ya, but then that would ruin the surprise. I’m tryin’ to make this the best first date of your life darlin.’”

“Woowee. Best first date of my life? Y’know, those are some awfully big shoes to fill. I think it's gonna take more than dinner and a movie to accomplish that.”

“The evenin’ has only jus’ begun. I’ve got all night to show ya a good time. Spare me a lil’ faith, will ya?” He reached over and played with the volume toggle before he reached for another cigarette from the pack resting in the cupholder.

“Can I have one of those?” You gestured to the pack of cigarettes.

“A smoke? Sure ya can. You ever had one before?” He asked curiously as he pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, using his freehand to light it.

“No, but I have always wanted to try one. I always think that the hollywood actresses and models in magazines always look so fucking cool smoking a cigarette. They're all just effortlessly cool.”

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at your explanation for wanting to smoke. He didn’t want to go and crush your romantic dream of looking as cool as the magazine models. “Well, I don’t think you need to smoke in order to look as cool as the models in magazines. That being said..welcome to the darkside.” He pulled out another cigarette and placed it between your lips. Your eyes locked for a millisecond as he brought the lighter to the unlit end.

Your first inhale of the smoke from the deathstick was rough as the toxic chemicals invaded your lungs. “Fuck. That tastes like complete ass. Why did I expect it to taste sweet, like cherries or strawberries?”

“Never said it was gonna taste sweet, darlin.’ You’ll get used to it after the nicotine kicks in.” He softly reassured you as he reached over and gave your knee a gentle squeeze.

The restaurant Joel had picked was immediately out of both of your comfort zones. It was filled with the snobby upper class members of society. You and Joel stuck out like a sore thumb as you were seated at the table in the middle of all the rich people bullshit. The prices on the menu were absolutely ridiculous and even the water that was being poured looked expensive. Joel looked particularly uncomfortable as he felt that every pair of eyes in the damn establishment were looking at you and him, as if you were zoo animals trapped behind a glass case.

“Hey, Joel?” You asked as you set your menu down on top of your perfectly folded napkin.

“Yeah darlin?’”He was playing with the ends of the table cloth nervously.

“Can we stop playing pretend for just a second here?” Your question immediately caught him off-guard as he looked across the table at you with a quizzical expression on his face.

“What do you mean by that exactly?”

“What I mean by that is do you really wanna sit here making fake small talk about the weather to fit in with the upper snobs of society, or do you wanna go out and have some real fun?” You asked while leaning over the side of the table slightly. A woman to your left let out a disgusted sound when your elbows touched the edge of the table as if it was some terrible sin you had just committed.

An immediate look of relief washed over his face as he relaxed his uncomfortably straight posture. “Fuck. I was hopin’ you were gonna say somethin’ like that. Let’s ditch this joint.” He was already pushing his chair back in a haste.

You reached for his hand as you slung your purse over your shoulder. It wasn’t technically dine and dashing when you hadn’t even placed your food order yet. That didn’t make it any less thrilling to run through the kitchens and escape through the backdoors with your fingers still interlocked as you raced back to his truck.

“I’m so sorry for bringin’ you here darlin.’ I was thinkin’ of impressin’ you somehow, but there’s no way either of us were gonna last a minute longer in there. I hope this hasn’t completely ruined my task of makin’ this the best first date of your life. Do I get a second chance?”

“Joel, it’s alright. I’m just glad I finally said something. Did you hear that woman’s disgust when my elbows touched the table? I never wanna join that group of society. What a bunch of fucking losers.” You responded with a soft giggle. “The night is still young, remember? I have the perfect place in mind for us to go and have some real fun.”

“That woman is probably absolutely miserable in her stupid mansion filled with materialistic shit that she buys to make up for the fact that her husband is cheating on her with her sister. What did ya have in mind sweetheart?”

“Thank goodness she has Chanel and her fur coats to keep her warm at night. Have you ever gone to a roller-rink?”

“How did I know that was going to be your suggestion? Are you just lookin’ for an excuse to watch me eat shit? Cus’ that’s exactly what is goin’ to happen.” He chuckled.

“Me? Nah. I would never! That would just be so cruel of me. C’mon. I promise you’ll have a good time, and we can hold hands?”

“Like they do in the movies?” He looked over at you with a lopsided, boyish grin.

“Exactly how they do in the movies.”

“I’m all in darlin.’”

The roller-rink was packed and teeming with people of all ages but mostly teenagers. There was a large shimmering silver disco ball dangling from a wire in the center of the rink.

“I’m gonna look like an absolute fool in these things. How the hell do ya make it look so easy, huh?” Joel muttered as he laced up his skates with a huff.

“Hey, you’re not gonna look like a fool, okay? Trust me. This place is a judgment free zone. No one is going to make fun of you if you slip and fall on your ass.”

Joel looked over at you, squinting a little from the bright flashing light from all the little mirror tiles reflecting on the disco ball. “Okay, but if I fall, i’m takin’ you down with me. Deal?”

“Deal.” You hopped up from the bench with a grin as you offered him your hand to which he gratefully took as you helped him up.

You could feel just how sweaty the palm of Joel’s hand was as his fingers interlocked through yours. He had his other hand outstretched to the side to help with his balance. “So do I like..try and walk in these things or is more like a glidin’ motion?”

“You won’t get very far if you try to walk in them. It’s more of a gliding side to side motion to start, and if you feel like you’re about to fall, you can use the toe stop at the front of the skates. It almost acts as an emergency break.”

“You’re so fuckin’ lucky I like you darlin.’” He squeezed your hand gently as you helped him onto the rink.

“You’ll get the hang of it in no time. Just let me guide you for the first few times around the rink, and then I’m sure you’ll be able to try it out on your own. Unless..you wanna skate with the little tykes in the middle?” You teased as you slowly started to glide across the smooth surface with ease.

“Absolutely not. I will not be skatin’ with the kids. What if someone from school sees me?”

“Who cares? Just have fun!” You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. You thought Joel looked quite cute looking all grumpy, but you hoped that by the end of the night you’d be able to get at least one smile out of him.

As the night progressed, Joel gained a little bit of confidence the more he skated and at one point, he had gently released your hand so he could try it out on his own. He was getting a hang of the gliding motion just as you decided to one up him and skate backwards.

“Now I think you’re just tryin’ to one me up darlin.’” He grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Hey, none of that! You’re doing great, Joel. Keep it up. I’m just going to go and grab us some refreshments, okay?”

“Really..? Thank you. It’s actually not as hard as I thought it was gonna be. Y’know, I might actually be having a good time..jus’ don’t let that get to your pretty lil’ head too much, okay?”

“I told you it wasn’t going to be so bad. You’re a natural. I’ll be right back.” You brushed your hand gently across his bicep as you skated past him and exited off of one of the openings to the carpeted area. You ordered two cherry cokes and a basket of fries. While you were waiting off to the side, you didn’t notice the guy to your left checking you out until a shadow casted over the wall from his presence.

“You here alone?” The guy asked as he leaned his elbow up right next to your head. He reeked of cheap liquor and you immediately grimaced.

“I’m not interested.”

“Ouch. That quick to shut me down, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Ain’t interested cause you got a boyfriend or somethin’ sweetheart?”

“I really don’t think it matters. Please leave me alone.”

“You don’t have to be such a fuckin’ bitch about it. Thought you would be interested considering your dressed like a fuckin’ slut.” He spat.

“Excuse me?”

Just when the piece of shit excuse of a man was about to open up his mouth to spew some more shit in your face, Joel was suddenly skating off the rink and to your rescue. He had noticed the guy harassing you from the other end of the rink.

“Hey man, how about you leave her the fuck alone? She ain’t interested. Fuck off.”

“Who the hell are you? I don’t have to listen to what the fuck you gotta say. Why don’t you just mind your own business?”

“I’m the boyfriend.” Joel deadpanned. “So, I’m gonna give you exactly five seconds to step away from my girl, or I’m gonna break your fuckin’ jaw.”

“Hey man, I don’t want any trouble I was just—”

“Five..four..three..two—” Joel started to countdown.

“Okay, okay! I’m goin!’” The guy scampered off like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“You alright?..I’m sure you had that handled, but it didn’t look like that guy was going to fuck off.”

“I’m okay. It’s unfortunately not the first time I’ve dealt with guys like that. I appreciate you stepping in though..”

“Of course. I’m sorry that you’ve had to deal with guys like that before. I don’t understand why it’s a rare occurrence for men to respect women. It’s the bare minimum, y’know?”

“Yeah, I really can’t understand it either. Men act like they are so entitled sometimes. At least you’re not one of them. You’re a real gentleman.”

“It’s how my ma raised me to be. She’d have my head on a spit if I ever disrespected a woman.” He grabbed the two cherry cokes and basket of fries from the counter as you sat down along the bench, with the fries placed between the two of you.

“Are you have a good time at least? You skated all the way over here without eating shit. I’m impressed.” You teased as you popped a perfectly crisp fry into your mouth.

“I’m actually havin’ a blast. This was a great idea to come out here. I guess the adrenaline sorta jus’ kicked in at the last minute? I definitely want to show ya my new moves I learned. Maybe impress ya even more?” He chuckled as he took a sip from his bottle of coke.

“I’d love to see your new moves. You think they’re gonna make my heart swoon?”

“Absolutely positive that they will make your heart swoon darlin.’”

Joel’s ‘moves’ consisted of him attempting to spin, and skate backwards. He ended up falling on his ass and taking you right now with him. You both were in fits of laughter as you hit the floor in unison. He was muttering about his ass hurting while you were clutching your stomach from how hard you were laughing.

God, you had such a cute laugh.

Midnight was the closing time for the roller rink. You and Joel were the two stragglers that weren’t ready to leave just yet as you skated in the middle of the rink to Take On Me. Your eyes were twinkling brightly like the disco ball above as Joel playfully spun you around.

In the end, you were kicked out by the closing staff and you and Joel walked back to his truck with infectious smiles on your faces. His arm was around your shoulder where your hands were interlocked, and before you could unlock the passenger side door, Joel was stopping you as he gently pressed your back up against the side of the door.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” He softly admitted as his arms encased your head on either side. He was broader than you realized as he loomed over you.

“So then kiss me.” You whispered through the thick palpable tension that was growing between you rapidly.

“You want me to kiss you?” He breathed softly as he dipped his head down, lightly brushing his nose against yours.

“Please kiss me Joel.” You whispered eagerly as your lashes fluttered shut.

His lips were slightly chapped, but you immediately liked the way they felt on yours. He was testing the waters out to see how you would respond as one hand dropped down and encased around your waist, pulling you up gently so you were flush against his chest. It was the kind of kiss that stole your breath from your lungs, and spun your brain like a ferris wheel. He tasted faintly of cherry coke, and tobacco.

He deepened the kiss only when you gave him the silent signal which consisted of your breath hitching in your throat, and your fingers twisting through his soft coffee-colored tendrils of hair. His tongue swiped confidently across your lower lip as you yanked on the roots of his hair gently.

He let out a soft grunt that vibrated up his throat as he gave your hip a gentle squeeze.

“Hey! What are you kids still doin’ here! Go the hell home!” A security guard at the roller rink shouted as he shone his flashlight directly in your faces.

“Hey man! We were just leavin!’” Joel grumbled in annoyance as he reluctantly detached his lips from yours and popped open the passenger side door.

“I’m serious! Get the hell outta here before I call the cops!”

Joel wasn’t the least bit threatened at the mention of cops being called as he lifted you into the passenger seat with ease. He stole one more kiss before he gently shut the door and sauntered over to the drivers side.

He started the ignition and rolled the window down just enough for him to stick his hand out and flip his middle finger up to the security guard before he peeled out of the parking lot.

When he finally looked over at you, he saw that your fingertips were lightly pressing into your lips where he had just kissed you minutes ago. You appeared to be in a trance as he reached his freehand over and gently squeezed your thigh. “You alright over there darlin?’” He softly asked.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just..happy.” You admitted as you looked over at him with a small grin.

“Ohh. Is that why you have that dopey look on your face?” He chuckled.

“Yeah, and because that was my first kiss. Could..you tell that it was?” You were playing with your hands in your lap now.

“Wait, I was your first kiss?..You’re serious about that?”

“Yeah, I mean..I’ve been kissed on the cheek by a couple guys but none of them ever properly kissed me. I guess maybe I should have told you that earlier?”

Joel couldn’t help but frown when he sensed the hesitation in your voice. It affected him so much that he was pulling over into the nearest gas station and turning his body completely so he was facing you. “Hey, it’s no biggie that you didn’t tell me earlier, sweets. I’m honored that I was your first kiss. I guess I'm just surprised that I am your first? I mean, you’re fuckin’ beautiful. You’re witty and smart. You’re like a breath of fresh air man. Sounds like these other guys are fuckin’ fools.”

“You think..I'm beautiful?” You finally looked up at him. “I guess I was afraid to tell you because I thought you’d..think it was weird or a turn off that i’m basically a prude?”

“Yeah, you’re literally a gem. You don’t see it? Look, I won’t lie to you and say that I haven’t been around the block a few times, because I have. I’ve had girlfriends here and there and casual hook ups just like the next guy, but as cliche as it's going to sound, you’re different. Now of course there’s nothing wrong with girls just wantin’ to flirt with me and fuck at some house party, I respect them just as much as I respect you. Don’t beat yourself down because you’ve never been kissed, or had sex. Real men aren’t gonna give a shit about that stuff because at the end of the day, that’s your personal choice. Hell, if you told me you slept with twenty guys it wouldn’t make me any less attracted to you than I am now. You’re not prude, and anyone that has ever made you feel that way is a piece of fuckin’ miserable garbage that is probably missin’ some substantial happiness in their lives.” Joel’s statement was one that was rooted in passion. He knew that he wasn’t the perfect guy and he made loads of mistakes, but he always made a point to respect the women in his life.

Your lips parted in pure surprise at Joel’s words, and even more-so when his hand that once was resting along your thigh, was now gently cupping your face with his thumb stroking your cheekbone. He was looking at you like you were the only girl in his world (you were). Ridden with overwhelming emotion, you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “Thank you for respecting me, Joel. I know it’s silly for me to worry about these things but it’s just so fucking hard being a girl. Let alone a teenage girl. Sometimes I just feel like I'm behind everyone else, y’know? I see so many girls at school with boyfriends and dates to prom..and sometimes it makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me.”

“I can only imagine how fuckin’ it is to be a woman. Y’all deal with so much crap that men ain’t have to ever worry about. I know as a white straight male, I have it easy in the world and you don’t. I’ll never understand why the fuck society views women on such a low scale compared to men. Hell, maybe in our-lifetime we’ll see that change? One can only hope that by the time we’re our parents age, maybe the world will become a better place. Anyway, you shouldn’t feel like anythin’ is wrong with you darlin.’” You’re not behind the rest of us, and you’re completely normal. I’m tellin’ you this not because i’m tryin’ to get you to fall for me or anythin’ but because it sounds like you’ve been rough on yourself for years, and you deserve to hear the truth and some reassurance.”

“I don’t think you’d have to do much for me to fall for you, Joel. Not when I have been this entire evening.”

He took in a harsh inhale at your words. Was this what it felt like to fall in love with someone? Was it even possible to fall in love in one night?

“Well, if we’re goin’ and spillin’ secrets like that..i’m fallin’ for you too darlin.’”

“You’re right about me being hard on myself Joel. I’ve gotten so sick of my negative mindset and feeling this way that I decided I needed to do something about it. I’m really happy that I did.”

“You gotta stop that shit, okay? I know it’s hard, but you got your whole life ahead of ya. Just focus on havin’ fun. Fuck all that other noise.” He was leaning in close now with his hand still gently holding your face.

“You’re right. Fuck all that other noise.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the wonderful situation you had found yourself presently in. Just a week ago you were feeling like you’d never experience romance in your last month of highschool. Well, you were wrong because here was a guy, sitting next to a girl, wanting to kiss her.

“Before we finish what we started back at the roller-rink. I got one question to ask ya.”

“Shoot.” You whispered as you threaded your fingers through his hair as his nose gently brushed across your cheekbone.

“Will you go to prom with me darlin?’”

You responded to his question with a kiss as you climbed over the center dashboard right into his lap.

“I take that as an enthusiastic yes.” He mumbled into your lips with a warm chuckle as his arms encircled around your waist.

“Yes, I'll go to prom with you Joel.” You kissed him deeper as he pulled you in close.

It was the night of prom, and already you felt like you were living in a fairytale. Your dad had just come home from the dry-cleaners with your dress just as your mom was finishing up your hair and makeup.

“When is your lucky fellow gonna come and pick you up hun?” Your dad asked as he handed you your dress that was protected by a sheet of plastic.

“He said he’ll be here around six. You’re going to be nice..right?”

“Honey, of course I will. I’m not gonna bite the guy's head off.” Your dad responded with a chuckle. “You look beautiful sweetheart.”

You gave your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and a hug. “Just checking to make sure. He’s a nice guy. I’m sure you’ll love him. Thank you for picking up my dress, dad. I love you.”

“I’m sure I will love him, and I love you too kiddo.”

Joel pulled up into your driveway a little earlier than he said he would. Truthfully, he was a little nervous to meet your parents, but especially your father. His mom sent him over with a bottle of wine and he had stopped at the market to pick up some fresh flowers. He used what was left of his last paycheck from his dad’s carpenter company to purchase a fine tailored suit. The only hint you had given him about the dress you were wearing was that it was silver. So, he purchased a silver bowtie so that he would be matching you.

He swallowed his bubbling nerves as he knocked on the front door. Your dad greeted him with a polite smile as he opened the door. “You must be Joel. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Come on in, son. I promise I won't bite.” Your dad reassured him with a wink that immediately relaxed his muscles from having a spasm.

“It’s good to finally meet you as well, sir.”

Your father and Joel were deep in a conversation at the foot of the stairs when you had finally made an appearance. Joel found himself stuck in a trance, and perplexed by your stunning beauty as you gracefully descended down the stairs.

Your dress was made of silver shimmering fabric. The tool wasn’t poofy like the other dresses you had seen. It looked as if it was made for you. The top of the dress dipped down into a delicate sweetheart neckline, and his eyes zoned in on the silver pendant that laid against the middle of your breastbone. It was heart shaped and twinkled under the light. Your heels were silver, and just high enough to give you a couple inches. What really sent Joel’s heart racing was the bright smile you gave him when your eyes locked at the bottom of the stairway.

“Wow.” He uttered in disbelief. “You look absolutely beautiful darlin.’”

Your smile only began to intensify from his words as you gave him a little twirl before hugging him so tight, he thought his heart would burst. “You’re not looking too bad yourself, handsome.”

He could feel the blushing rising to his cheeks as you called him handsome, and he turned beet red when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheekbone.

Before either of you could leave, your mother insisted on taking a few photos while your dad told Joel to have you home no later than midnight.

As soon as you were safely in Joel’s truck, you wasted no time leaning over the center console and kissing him deeply. He responded to your kiss immediately as his hands gently found purchase around your waist. “I missed y’too.” He chuckled against your lips.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since you walked in that door.”

“Ditto.” He didn’t hesitate to respond.

“Ready to do prom with me, Joel?” You slowly pulled away and used your thumb to gently wipe away the lipstick residue that stained his lips.

“Ready as i’ll ever be darlin.’”

The theme for prom was “A Night To Remember” and boy, was that an understatement. Joel wasn’t much of a dancer, but he would be damned if he didn’t make his girl happy and dance the night away with her, even if his feet ended up aching by the 20th song. His favorite part of prom was the stupid little photobooth. He had so much fun making silly faces and kissing you like a man in love while the little camera in the booth flashed brightly. By the fifth slow song of the night, you were ready to get the hell out of there.

He was in mid conversation with Tommy when you had gently plopped yourself down into his lap and innocently whispered into his ear, “Wanna get out of here, cowboy?” As his arm wrapped around your lower back for support.

Joel’s eyes widened slightly at your suggestion, and he was silently grateful that he remembered to tuck a couple of condoms in his wallet. “Yeah, baby. Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere.” You pressed a soft kiss just below his ear before you slid off his lap.

Joel wasted no time to grab his suit jacket and gently drape it over your shoulders as he snatched up his keys and gave Tommy a little salute.

“Have fun kids! Don’t do anythin’ I wouldn’t do!” Tommy yelled as you and Joel were making a b-line for the nearest exit with his hand gently resting along your lower back.

As soon as you were outside, Joel wasted no time to scoop you up into his arms bridal style as he carried you back to his truck. Your arms looped around his neck. You could faintly smell moisture in the air as a storm was slowly beginning to roll in.

Joel used his freehand to open the passenger side door and gently set you down on the seat, making sure that your dress was tucked in before he closed the door. You were on one another like a moth to flame as soon as he was in the driver's seat.

“Where d’ya wanna go darlin?’” Joel mumbled against your lips.

“I want to go to the nearest park, and dance under the moonlight with you.”

“a lil’ bit of moonlight dancin’ with my baby? I’m all in honeypie.” He was holding your face in his hands so delicately as you kissed. “We can even celebrate with a lil’ splash of champagne after? I was savin’ it just for this special night.”

“Moonlight dancing AND champagne? Joel Miller, you sure know how to spoil a gal rotten.” You giggled softly as your hands slipped down over the patchy spots in his facial hair that were just beginning to grow in.

“Only the best for my baby.” He hummed thoughtfully as you gently ran the pads of your fingertips across his jaw. He pulled away from the kiss slowly and dragged the tip of his nose against yours in a kiss. “Don’t wanna mess up your hair and makeup just yet, darlin.’ We got all damn night for those shenanigans..although, your old man did say to have you home by midnight.”

“He really meant one in the morning.” You pressed one final kiss to his lips before you buckled yourself up.

“Mmm. Did he now? Are you absolutely positive about that darlin?’”

“Deadly.”

“Well, if ya say so.” He looked over at you with his usual boyish grin as he started the ignition.

Joel drove to the nearest park that was situated right in the middle of a little pond. There were only a couple people taking an evening stroll when you and Joel excitedly hopped out of his truck, finding one another’s hands as they interlocked like two puzzle pieces.

Your combined giggles painted the night air in the pure joy of young love as your heels echoed along the pavement. The moon was full, and bright in the stardusted sky as Joel pulled you into his arms and spun you around playfully.

There was no music to be heard, but you created your own with the clicking noises from your heels and your heartbeats entwined. Even when the wind picked up, and blew the skirt of your dress around your ankles, and the thunder rumbled its baritone tune, you continued to dance. The heavens opened up as rain droplets danced around you, and the sky lit up in brilliant flashes of white hot lighting.

“Baby! We should uh—probably get back to the truck now, don’tcha think?” Joel had to shout over the pouring rain that had already begun to soak through your dress and turned it a darker silver color.

“Not yet! Just dance with me a little more! The rain can’t hurt us baby, c’mon!” You grabbed both his hands gently as you spun each other around in a circle along the wet pavement. All it took was one threatening crack of thunder above for both of you to scamper back to his truck.

You sat side by side in the backseat, laughing about nothing in particular as the rain pounded into the roof of the truck and windows. Your giggles died down when he slowly looked over at you and gently grabbed your hand in his own. “Hey, even though we totally almost got obliterated by some lighting out there, I had so much fun. However, this storm seems pretty bad..won’t be able to drive you home until it passes through..any ideas on how we can make good use of our time?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Hmm..that’s a really interesting question for you to ask, baby. How do we make good use of our time?” You asked in a suggestive tone as you kicked your heels off to the floor of the truck and pulled yourself into his lap. “I think that all depends on what we both want to do..”

Joel felt his smirk tugging on his lips as you straddled his hips. His hair was soaked and stuck to his face until you had gently ran your fingers through the wet strands and pushed them off his forehead. “Well, what I wanna do requires me ruining this pretty dress, baby. I don’t wanna ruin it. You look so goddamn gorgeous in it.”

“Joel, it’s already pretty much ruined from the rain..”

“We’ll only do what you wanna do. Okay?” He reassured you.

You nodded, swallowing the lump growing in your throat as you looked deeply into one another’s eyes. The tension was slowly beginning to build as your forehead gently rested along his. “Joel?..” you asked softly.

“Yes darlin?’”

“I want you to make love to me. Just like how they do in the movies.”

He took a sharp inhale of breath as his lashes fluttered shut momentarily before he reopened them. “You sure that’s what you want baby? There’s no rush, I promise.”

“Joel, please. I want you to take care of me. I don’t care if it’s not in a bed. I don’t care that it’s in the backseat of your truck. I want you fuck me like it’s our last night.”

He was kissing you then as his hands came up to hold your face once more. “I’ll take care of you, I promise baby. We’ll go as slow as you want. I—I brought condoms..not because I was expecting this to happen tonight, but I just wanted to bring them to be safe.” He mumbled softly against your lips.

“Baby, I know you’ll take care of me. I trust you.” You did. You really did trust him with your entire heart. As if it was made only for him.

“Lay on your back for me honey..nice and easy now..” he kissed you slowly as he gently eased you on your back. He detached his lips from yours for only a moment as he reached for his suit jacket and tucked it under your head so you would be more comfortable. His lips found yours once more as his hand slowly trailed up your calf to your knee. He didn’t want to rush this experience for you. He wanted every moment of it to be enjoyable, because he cared about you that much.

His hand had just found its way up to your middle thigh when you had let out a wanton whimper. You’d never been touched like this before by a man. It set a fire deep within your belly when Joel began to pepper kisses down your jaw. He kissed down the column of your neck, and that valley between your breasts. You opened for him like a blooming flower.

Gooseflesh rose upon your skin as his freehand slipped under your lower back in search for the zipper of your dress. You could feel his lips curving into a grin against your skin as he slowly tugged it down. He shimmied your dress down over your breasts and hips and gingerly laid it across the center console. “You’re so beautiful, darlin. I could stare at your beautiful body for hours..but why do that when I can just show you how beautiful I think you are?..” he whispered against the spot where your collarbone met the base of your throat.

“Joel..” you whispered.

“Shh. I know, baby, I know. I jus’ wanna take my time with ya. Savor every inch of your skin on my tongue.” He lowly hummed as his head dipped back down. When his lips enveloped your pebbled soft flesh, your back arched upwards as a sweet moan slipped past your parted lips.

He rolled his teeth across the bud, flicking his tongue across it expertly, just as his hand slowly dipped under your cotton panties. His fingers stroked you gently, moving in tight circles as your thighs fell open. You had touched yourself under the bedsheets many times before, but it never felt as good as this.

His name dripped from your lips as his fingers played you like a violin. He was carefully attentive to your body language and the way you reacted to his touch. He learned that you were ticklish around your hips, and you liked it when he lightly nipped at the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

He learned that you especially liked the way his tongue worked your cunt into ruin, and his patchy beard scratched at your sensitive skin. He learned that you loved to kiss him, and hold his face as close to your own as possible. He learned that you enjoyed slow, deep thrusts where you could feel him in his entirety. Every stretch and pull as your body hugged itself around his cock like a warm blanket. He learned that kissing just below your ear would cause you to giggle, kissing your neck made you moan.

He learned that your body may as well have been created just for him, and his for you. He never felt so emotionally connected to someone in his life, and now here he was buried so deep inside of your warmth, he swore he could see stars behind his eyelids as he kissed and nipped your chin gently.

He had never made love to any woman he had ever been with. He never moved so slowly, so thoughtfully with the only goal in mind to bring you to that high that felt like no other. So when you came undone around him, he praised you, he kissed you and held you as tears fell down your cheeks. He knew they weren’t unhappy tears. They were tears of overwhelming emotion, and he kissed them all away before he gathered you up in his arms.

It was far past midnight by the time the storm had stopped, and you and Joel found yourselves in the bed of his truck, sharing the bottle of champagne while you were wrapped up in a blanket together. You talked of the future, your relationship and what it meant. You giggled like school girls when he brought up how sweet you tasted, and how he wouldn’t mind having you as a meal everyday.

You talked about the stars and the moon and if the sun ever felt lonely that she never gets to see the night sky like you and him do. You talked about your dreams, your desires and wishes after highschool. He wanted to say he loved you, he really did; he just didn’t know how to articulate it.

You had drunk more than enough champagne, and the bubbly effects were beginning to take their toll on you as you struggled to stand to your feet. Joel was a second too late to catch you before you fell right over the side of the truck and hit the concrete below with a thud.

He screamed your name as it happened in slow motion before his eyes. Panic swirled deep in his gut as he hopped down from the bed and immediately rushed to your side. You were scraped up pretty bad and had a gash an inch long across your forehead that was oozing crimson blood. “Baby! Are you alright?” He was scooping you into his arms in a haste but you didn’t even seem to notice that you were injured.

“Babyyy why do you look so sad? Why wouldn’t I be okay?” You giggled drunkenly.

“Fuck. I knew I should have cut you off from the champs sooner. Baby, you’re bleedin’ all fuckin’ over the place. I’m gonna take you to a hospital, okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t catch ya.” He lifted you up bridal style

“Bleeding? Baby, what are you talking about? I’m not bleeding!” Your giggles continued as you reached up and touched the gash on your forehead. You saw the blood droplets on your fingers, but were unfazed. “Oops! I am bleeding. How did that happen?”

He was already placing you into the passenger seat and buckling you up quickly. He didn’t speak until he was in the driver's seat and peeling out of the parking lot to the nearest hospital. “Baby, you had a lot of champange and fell out of my truck. Your daddy is gonna fuckin’ kill me sweetheart.”

“Champagne must be numbing all the pain, because I don’t feel a thing! Joel, my daddy is going to have to go through me first if he wants to kill you. I’ll protect you baby. He won’t touch you.” You were reaching into his glove box for his pack of smokes and lighter.

“Baby, you don’t feel a thing at all? Fuck. Well, I guess that’s a good thing cus’ you nearly fuckin’ broke your ass. Don’t worry, m’gonna get you to the hospital, and they’re gonna fix ya right up. You’ll be good as new.” He spoke as calmly as he possibly could. Inside he was absolutely freaking the fuck out.

You took a long drag from the cigarette as you made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat. You reached for his freehand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

It was in those exact moments that he realized just how deeply he had fallen in love with you.

Your daddy did in fact want to kill Joel when he drove you home from the hospital. He profusely apologized to your father, while your mother ushered you upstairs. You kept looking over your shoulder to find his face, but your dad was blocking the doorway.

The last time you saw Joel Miller was graduation day. It was outside in the school parking lot. He was leaning against the side of his truck, with his graduation cap in hand. His shoulders were slumped forward, and from the angle you were at you couldn’t tell if he was crying. You were about to call out his name, but he was already getting back into his truck.

Eighteen years had suddenly passed. You went off to college on the other side of the country. You met loads of boys that kissed you, and fucked you, and loved you, but none of them were Joel. You kept a little piece of him in your heart all those years, wishing you could go back to that magical night. The faint scar along your forehead was a constant reminder of those last moments you shared together. Now you were older, and feeling lost in life, and returning home seemed like your best option.

Your parents were more than happy to have you home again, and it felt like nothing had changed. The diner was the same way you had left it, and your old skates were still in the back cubby. Nostalgia washed over you when your eyes locked on the corner booth where you and Joel had first met. It was so long ago, but it had felt like just yesterday he was asking you out on your very first date.

You closed the diner up half past 10 when you could hear the familiar sound of crunching gravel under truck tires. A car door slammed shut as you were locking up the front door.

“Hey stranger.” The familiar Texas drawl nearly had your knees buckling inwards.

“Joel?..” you asked in disbelief as you slowly turned around to face him.

“Yeah, it’s—it’s me darlin.’” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he looked over at you.

“What—what are you doing here? I never thought I’d see your face again.”

“Truthfully? I..don’t know. I just heard from Tommy that you were in town again, and I jus’ figured there was no harm in comin’ to see you. I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to just grow a pair. I wasn’t sure how you would react to seein’ my face again after all these years.”

You took a few cautious steps forward as you twirled your keys between your fingers. “Do you want to come inside?..we can talk and I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge—”

“Please.” He cut you off suddenly. “I would love to come inside and talk to you.”

“Two cherry cokes and a basket of fries?”

“Jus’ like our first date.” He murmured softly as he followed you into the diner he knew so well.

“You remembered?..”

“How could I forget? It was the most fun I ever had on a date darlin.’” He cleared his throat nervously as you walked over to the booth in the corner.

His presence was suddenly so close, you felt like you couldn’t breathe as he slid into the booth. He had grown much broader over the years. His arms had filled in and his beard was less patchy. His eyes still held that same familiar warmth to them like they did the first time you met. He clasped his hands together along the table as you disappeared into the back area of the kitchen, and returned minutes later with two cherry cokes and a basket of fresh fries. You sat across from him, and the beverages and fries were left untouched as you sat in silence for what felt like hours.

“So, how have you been?” Joel started the conversation as he slowly reached for a fry.

“I’ve been better. How about you?”

“Not that great if I’m bein’ honest with you.” He popped the fry into his mouth, chewing slowly.

“What’s..going on?”

Joel let out a heavy sigh as he sank back against the worn booth seat. “For starters, I have a 12 year old daughter that I’m raisin’ on my own. Tommy has been helpin’ out thank god. It jus’ ain’t easy, bein’ a single father.”

Your lips parted in shock. It was easy to forget just how much time had passed. Of course Joel had been married, and had a child now. Of course he moved on. You couldn’t blame him, especially when you had gone and done the same.

“You..have a daughter? What’s her name?..”

“I do, yeah. Her mom left us when she was just a few months old. Really fuckin’ messed me up. Anway, her name is Sarah. She’s as cute as a button, really she is. I’m just strugglin’ to make ends meet with my job. I do everything for that little girl, and sometimes I feel like that’s not enough.”

“I bet she is adorable, Joel. Do you have a picture of her? I’m sorry that your wife left you to raise her. I’m glad that you have Tommy to help out at least.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a photo of her right here in my wallet. S’okay. You don’t have to be sorry. Sometimes those things just don’t work out. I’ve moved past it the best that I can.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and opened it, revealing an adorable little girl with a head of thick black curls, and eyes just like her daddy.

“Oh, Joel. She’s absolutely beautiful.” You were holding in tears you didn’t realize were building as you gently stroked your thumb across the photograph. “She’s got your eyes.”

“She is beautiful. She’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I’m so grateful that she’s my little girl. Enough about me, what about you? What’s goin’ on in your life darlin?’ Are..you married?” He was almost too nervous to ask you. He just had to know, even if the answer would hurt him forever.

“I’m miserable if I’m being honest with you now. I’m not married, no. I actually just broke up with my long term boyfriend and moved back home. I quit my 9-5, and just realized that I was pretending to be happy for so long.”

“Why did you break up with him?..”

“Because he wasn’t you Joel.” Your confession fell heavy upon his heart as his face slowly fell into a deep set frown. “He was good to me. He loved me, and wanted to marry me, but he wasn’t you. He’ll never be you.”

“Darlin?’”

“Joel?”

“Do you remember that day you fell outta my truck?” He asked softly.

“I sure do, you came jumping out after me.”

“Well, you fell on the concrete, nearly broke your ass and you were bleeding all over the place. I rushed you out to the hospital, you remember that?” He could feel his own tears begin to well up along his waterline as his voice nearly cracked.

“Yes, I do.” You were reaching for his hand across the table, gently placing yours on top of his.

“Well, there’s something I never told you about that night…” he trailed off.

“What didn’t you tell me?”

“While you were sitting in the passenger seat smoking a cigarette you thought was gonna be your last, I was falling deep deeply in love with you, and I never told you ‘til just now.” His tears had freely begun to fall in sync with your own. You both were reaching for each other's faces to gently wipe the tear droplets away.

“All these years?…”

“Yes, all these years I have wanted to tell you. That night, after we made love, I was going to say it. It was on the fuckin’ tip of my tongue and I froze. I chickened out, and lost my chance. I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you, or that night for eighteen years. You always have had a piece of my heart, and I’ve never been able to fully let you go, and I don’t think I ever will.” He admitted.

“I wanted to tell you that night as well. I lost my chance when I got too drunk to stand and toppled over the side of your truck. I knew it when we danced in the rain, and when you took care of me the way that all women want to be taken care of. I’ve tried to move on, and love someone else, but I’m incapable. I didn’t just come home because I was miserable in my present life. I came home because I was hoping I’d run into you.” You gently stroked your thumb across his cheekbone.

“Joel, do you believe in the idea of the right person, but at the wrong time?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you believe that then can turn into the right person, at the right time?”

“Yes, darlin’ I absolutely believe that to be true. Now, I have one very important question to ask you.”

“What is it that you have to ask me?”

A knowing smile graced his aging features as he leaned in close, close enough that you could see the warmth held in his irises.

“Will you go to prom with me darlin?’”

Fin

Tagging people I think will enjoy: @chaotic-mystery @cavillscurls @morning-star-joy @dinsdjrn @cupofjoel @thetriumphantpanda @darkroastjoel @tessa-quayle @saradika @kirsteng42 @amanitacowboy @sinsofsummers @lovers-liability

Banners made by the lovely @saradika

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #protective joel #joel tlou #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller story #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel last of us #joel x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #tommy miller #prom night au

[lolzitop]

Aikatsu Stars is cool but I have the hubris of a god and I think I can do better so I decided to rewrite everything about it lmao (this is for you @arabella-pink)

Season 1

Main characters are Yume, Koharu, Rola, Mahiru, Ako, and Haruka Ruka (I can’t help it her wide eyes and cute character design has captured me) 

Pre-Season 1 Yume is someone who had a decent amount of fame as a child star and lost it (idk how I came up with all this a week ago and forgot) and now is doing everything she can to regain popularity again 

Yume and Koharu are still childhood friends they are a package deal and you cannot and will not separate them

Four Star Academy is a highly prestigious idol academy that’s super duper competitive- especially considering that you have to be the best of the best to be in S4 

Speaking of S4, in Season 1, S4 only consists of Yozora, Tsubasa, and Yuzu 

Before the school year in Season 1 started, Hime completely disappeared from the spotlight due to the pressure she has felt as the top idol (she’s the most favorited out of S4, every brand she promotes sells out in seconds, she is bigger than life itself, think of her as the Taylor Swift (popularity wise) of Aikatsu) 

Yozora, Tsubasa, and Yuzu are the only ones who know where she is, but refuse to disclose, to the point that Moroboshi almost disbands S4 because of it 

We find out where Hime is like,,, end of S1- beginning of S2 (Hime plays a bigger role in S2) 

Erasing the whole dress-make system that Aikatsu had because I am sick of idol designers I want regular designers back please

For a while, Yume had left her old star life before seeing S4 performs (and being hit with the classic Aikatsu moment™ where she realizes that this is what she wants)

The only problem is… Yume’s not very talented in the idol field… she struggles with dancing and singing and practically has two left feet

So imagine everyone’s surprise (including Yume) when she absolutely kills her debut performance (this is where the magic rainbow power comes in) 

The rainbow power is one of Aikatsu Stars’ biggest mysteries because??? What are you??? Where did you come from?? WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS AND WHY DO YOU TARGET RANDOM IDOLS??

In the rewrite, the rainbow power is something that is a “gift” from the Aikatsu System (which idk I might make another post about with my ideas) in which it amplifies abilities of idols: gives them the most beautiful voices and powerful auras to the point it overrides any other auras nearby; however, it does have its cons: it causes the idol to lose their voice (like in canon), become more fragile, and forget their memories the more they use the power

Anyways, Yume’s feeling great and then the partner performance thing comes and she’s paired with Rola and does absolutely horrendous

Even then, her confidence is still high because she proclaims Rola as her rival (who agrees but doesn’t really take it seriously) 

Oh, I forgot to mention, Rola and Mahiru are prodigies from really rich families (*gasp* nepotism…) and have been child stars- they’re also rivals who are constantly at each other’s throats 

Rola doesn’t really think Yume’s a threat so most of the time she’s quite dismissive of Yume, but Mahiru respects Yume a lot after her debut performance 

Mahiru and Rola had planned to be in Flower Song Class together (and whoever won the selection would win their “little” rivalry) but Mahiru switches classes after seeing Yume’s performance (who has made it very clear that she’s going to go to Flower Song Class) 

Also Flower Song Class has a reputation of pushing out the biggest top idols of their age (ex. Hotaru Yukino, Hime) and is a highly competitive class 

Anyways, Yume and Rola make it to Flower Song (Yume’s power activates again), Mahiru and Koharu are in Moon Beauty, Ako is in Bird Theater, and Haruka Ruka is in Wind Dance 

Rola and Mahiru have a big fight about how Mahiru is a coward and is backing out of their rivalry, blah blah blah some sapphic fighting idk guys they just have a big fight 

Also Ako and Haruka Ruka are friends as well 

Ako became an idol similar to canon,, she liked a member of M4 and wanted to get close to him (except its Kanata she likes and not Subaru because I like Kanata more) 

She basically calculates and plans to trick him into liking her lmao (except it turns out Kanata knew the whole time and liked her for her true self) 

Guys I swear I’ll come up with more stuff for Ako and Haruka Ruka I WILL I PROMISE IT'S BEEN A BUSY WEEK

I may pull a Bandai and abandon M4 because I do not know how they could impact the plot they’re just,,, standing there and looking pretty (I only have stupid headcanons)

Back to Yume, she finds out more about her power somehow and instead of trying to get rid of it,,, she uses it more to her advantage 

Girl is DEAD set on being famous- she finds out a way to use the power frequently, which sets her at the top of her class and actually makes her popular with the general public (she probably got an album out i dunno) 

She’s been warned by Moroboshi, who has seen how this power has hurt his own sister. But won’t stop, she can’t stop, because she’s climbing up and up. She’s made a name for herself, she’s made new friends… and she’s losing them even quicker than she made them 

She can’t remember much about herself anymore: what songs she hums when she can’t sleep, the food her mother used to make for her when she was upset, the games that Koharu and Yume used to play when they were little. But it’s fine, it's perfectly fine because Yume is famous now. She has everything she wants. 

Yume’s been thriving in Four Star’s competitive environment. Koharu, on the other hand… hasn’t been doing the best. Koharu has always been more of a designer than an idol, and she’s always behind everyone else. She doesn’t have many friends outside of Yume, and even Yume has been too busy to hang out with Koharu. The pressure and stress is too much, and she decides to leave Four Star Academy to be better. (*Episode 30 flashbacks*) Yume comes back to their dorm with all of Koharu’s things gone, and only some candy and a note left for Yume. It’s only then that Yume realizes all that she’s lost, that in the search for fame, she’s lost who she was, her friends, her family, everything, just to get her name to the top. 

Yume struggles a lot with fame, where she barely gets an ounce of privacy, and the pressure is crumbling her (along with the guilt that this isn’t her, it’s the magic power). She’s been used by many people, who use her name to be more famous, and then immediately leave her. 

Yume realizes why Hime left. Hime had a midas touch, everything she would touch would turn gold. However, what good is a midas touch if all you wanted was to wear silver jewelry? And Yume thinks of how lucky Hime is, to have taken her dignity and left the idol world. 

A big part of Yume’s arc is how she isn’t idol-worthy. She doesn’t really have the star quality in her. Everyone around her is naturally talented and good at everything and Yume… isn’t. Everyone is sort of the chosen one… except Yume. Yume is a person who knows she isn’t special, but makes herself special. There will always be queens and princesses, but what about the girls without magic in their blood? They have to hold their heads high, as if they are the ones who are adorned with crowns (that’s a Six of Crows reference I love Six of Crows) 

I also had an idea where Yume actually stole the magic power from someone but I also have NO idea how she would do that… guys this is still a work in progress and I’m sorry its so messy its so late and I didn’t get much sleep 

Additional ideas I had that I didn’t know where to put

Koharu is basically a personification of Yume’s childhood and everything that makes Yume… well Yume, so her disappearing is just symbolism for how Yume has lost herself and her childhood 

Mahiru and Rola are gay and they like each other in the rewrite because I think their dynamic is cool (they’re also lacy by Olivia Rodrigo coded you guys should listen) 

FSA still puts an emphasis on individuality so students are encouraged to customize their uniforms as well as their school coords (so their Star Coords all have different silhouettes)

Hime is sort of someone who “haunts” the narrative in Season 1 

Ako gets her own brand (that isn’t FuwaFuwa Dream nor Shiny Smile but a secret third thing (I don’t know yet))

Haruka Ruka may have a Pop Brand with a decora concept called “DECO●LOUR MY WORLD” but I don’t know yet 

Koharu is also a cute type idol 

Anyways the Season 2 post (if I ever make one we’ll see) will have Hime getting an SPR and Yume NOT getting an SPR but she gets Koharu back so I think that’s a fair trade

Also some songs for the rewrite would be The Lucky One (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift, making the bed by Olivia Rodrigo, You’re On Your Own Kid by Taylor Swift, and Castle’s Crumbling (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift

#aikatsu #aikatsu stars #rewrite #guys i wrote this when it was late and i was half asleep but it was kinda funny so i refuse to edit it #anyways i hope you enjoy!!!!!! #please be nice #ALSO I'M SORRY IF THIS DOESN'T MAKE SENSE #I also left out a lot my bad

[visd3stele]

Can you do a fanfic where post TWK during her exile Judeis on a date Cardan sees gets jealous and decides to “punish” Jude smut of course

'Course, fox :)

thanks sm for the request, I hope it's what you expected 💛

°•▪︎~▪︎•° masterlist ; requests °•▪︎~▪︎•°

TW: smut, hate/angry sex, rough, penetrative (vaginal), oral (m receiving), unprotected (do NOT do it), lack of consent at the beginning (which IS NEVER OK) going to vague/unclear/hinting consent (which still ISN'T good enough), praising (like once or twice), a bit of Cardan's tail (quite innocently), begging and kind of degradation (not really, but idk how to call it and it seemed appropriate to have a warning for it) and orgasm dnial

- think that's all, lmk if I missed anything

A/N: I really, really, wish this went well. It's actually my first time writing smut and I don't know what I'm doing tbh. I hope it's not confusing and that it makes sense lol.

Sorry for the delay, as well, my mental health hasn't been the best these days and I couldn't manage to write one paragraph without deleting it right away...

Bow down, your highness!

"Hello, Jude." That voice. The voice she never thought she'd hear again. A cold timbre running down her spine. Cardan Greenbriar, the High King of Elfhame.

The young king has waltzed his way towards the booth where Jude and stranger were having dinner together after spending a good fifteen minutes at least fuming outside and watching with clenched fists through the windows of the restaurant. Cardan had been sending Jude letters to ask her to return by his side ever since her exile, and all the while she ignored him for mortals. Unacceptable!

"Cardan?" Jude wan on her feet in an instant, fingers itching towards the cutlery on the table. She imagined stabbing the traitorous husband for months on no end and seeing him seemed to be the spark her fury needed to fully ignite. "What do you want?" She hissed.

"So rude of you, Jude. Aren't you going to introduce me?" Cardan fixed her with his dark gaze, obsidian eyes ablaze with anger to match Jude's own. He didn't bother to hide his fae form, pointy ears adorned with silver lined jewels and tail cutting the air behind him, slashing with dangerous force like one of the queen's daggers.

"I think you should leave, dude," Jude's date begun, noticing the effect Cardan had on her. But he ran out of words when he turned and his eyes landed on the tall, lean, otherworldly figure. "What the-" This time the fae boy stopped the speech, waving a hand and freezing everyone for a private chat with his wife.

"Turn them back to normal," Jude threatened.

"So worried for these mortals, Jude. Or is it just this one?" The king pointed with disgust at her date.

"What do you want?"

"You." A simple statement. An easy demeanor. A plain word. But for Jude, it was the oxygen that fueled the fire. She closed the distance between them, stepping thickly and raising her fisted hands ready for a fight.

"Me? ME? You stupid, ignorant, lying bastard! You exiled me in front of the whole court!" She yelled, each word emphasized with a punch. His shoulder, his chest, his arm. Cardan did nothing to stop her, schooling his features to never betray the pain she actually inflicted on him. Except for when Jude tried to get him in the face. He caught her wrist, then, bringing her closer to him.

So close, their bodies were pressed together, chests fighting for dominance with every breath. Cardan's free hand sneaked around Jude's waist, holding her in place with his palm placed tightly on her lower back.

"Let go of me, you-" gasping, Jude's words came to a halt when Cardan's lips captured hers, claiming het mouth ferociously.

"You're my wife, Jude. Shouldn't have forget that," the fae king said when he pulled away, menace lingering in his dry voice. Jude made a face, breaking her hand free and opening her mouth to speak another river of insults. But before she could manage to do that, the strange, yet familiar, scent of magic engulfed her. And with a blink, Jude Duarte found herself back in the royal chambers in Elfhame.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

"I thought I'm never to return again," the mortal queen of fairies mused, inhaling deeply to calm down. In a battle it's always better to have a cool, leveled head.

Cardan rolled his eyes. "As if I'd believe you."

She wiped her head to look at him, frowning. "You betrayed me!"

"You did it first! You lied and used me to your own gain."

"And you pushed me around for years, making my life a living hell with your senseless friends."

"I married you in the end," Cardan said and for a moment a glimpse of guilt flashed through his eyes, only to be replaced by hurt and then hatred when Jude scoffed.

"That was a big, fat lie and you know it."

"I cannot lie, as you're aware of. You, on the other hand, can only speak lies."

Jude felt her cheeks heating with the overly well known feeling she always got near Cardan. Though she could never quite name it, it was strong, overwhelming and it clouded her mind in all the wrong times.

"Alright, then, here's a truth for you. I," she marched forward, "hate," her feet stormed over the polished floor, "you!" Jude was now face to face with Cardan again, close enough to wrap her hands around his neck and k...

"Then why can't you keep your distance?" He mocked, leaning closer, his breath brushing the tip of her nose. Jude scoffed and tried to push him, but with a stealth recently discovered in his trainings with the Court of Shadows, Cardan caught her arms, turned them both around and pinned her to the nearest wall.

As much as Jude was better built than the fae king, the latter took her by surprise, heart skipping a beat as the proximity made it impossible to clear her mind. The hungry look in his eyes didn't help either. His pupils dilated so much the line between them and his black irises blurred and almost faded completely.

"What? No more clever words for me, Jude?" His hands traveled to her hips, digging in the cold material of the jeans, keeping her in place. The mortal girl swallowed hard, confused, yet still boiling with the anger of a wounded ego and hurt pride.

Composing herself, Jude brought her head forward, a crack echoing in the room when her forehead hit his chin. "You had a chance, Cardan. Now take me back. Elfhame is no longer worth it." You are no longer worth it, were the words that hanged unspoken.

Cardan pushed her back with renewed force, squeezing her waist and taking one more step in her space. "You're my wife, Jude. Mine!" He empathized his words with another kiss. This time he bit her lower lip, earning a yelp of surprise that parted her mouth. Seizing the opportunity, the king slithered his tongue past her teeth, exploring. With a sound of defiance, Jude tangled her own tongue with his, kissing him back in a type of fight she wasn't used to. But Jude wouldn't yield to Cardan. No matter what they're playing at.

Soon, these thoughts would flee her mind. When the High king would pull apart, sending her a satisfied smirk. When she'd struggle to process it, having his lips pressed to her neck.

Indeed, Cardan now grazed his teeth against the sensitive skin of Jude's throat, licking and biting his way downwards. His mouth attached itself to her collarbone, a tickling sensation spreading through Jude's body. A spasm lightly shook her. Grinning cruelly, Cardan traced the skin of her neck with his nose, stealing taunting kisses until his mouth reached her ear. Nibbling at her lobe, sucking at the skin underneath it, the fae whispered in Jude's ear.

His breath was hot and swift like an unexpected breeze and the mortal queen took her time understanding what he said. "Do you wanted him to do this to you?"

A moan left her lips and her eyes widened in surprise. Cardan chuckled darkly, continuing his attacks on her neck. But this time, his mouth traveled lower. Down inside her decolletage, teasing the warm skin of her breasts. And his hands joined right after, sneaking under her shirt and playing with the keys of her bra. "Is this what you did all these months? Fooling around with that mortal man?"

Jude felt like she was losing, spinning out of control. "And what if I did?" She retorted. "You made it clear I'm not welcomed back, so why not, right?" She wanted to hurt him. And she did, but Cardan wouldn't show it. Not tonight.

He launched his mouth back on hers, kissing and biting and licking, claiming her lips as if he could push back her words like this.

His hands were roaming again, snapping her bra open and lifting it above her breasts underneath the shirt. His long fingers traced their shape tentatively, thumbs circling the hard nipples. He cupped and squeezed, drawing a muffled moan from Jude. When Cardan broke the kiss for air, he used the time to toss away the shirt and the bra, renewing his descend on Jude's body. His lips tested the valley of her breasts, the feverish skin of her upper abdomen. Whenever his teeth pinched, Jude would squirm under his touch, whenever she felt his tongue on her, she'd scratch her nails against the wall, moans wailing out of her throat.

His tail wrapped around her waist, securing the girl when Cardan's cold hands slipped beneath her belt. Twitching the material of her panties between his fingers, the fae king suddenly stopped. "Is it him you want?"

Jude made out a strangled sound, unnerved and disappointed. She tried to talk, but her voice was lost. "Is it?" Cardan asked again, putting more force into his words this time, voice edging with a hint of fear and heartbreak. Jude considered lying again. Saying yes and forcing him to take her back. But she wanted more. More of Cardan, more of his touch, more of his experience and attention. "Tell me, Jude," the mortal queen gulped when the king stood up against her again, his fingers now digging in the soft flash of her butt.

"No."

"No? What do you want, then?" The fae asked, a self pleased grin tugging at his sharp features. Jude's breath itched, then accelerated when light caught the lust in his eyes, mirroring hers.

"You," her voice was barely a whisper, but it sent Cardan's mind in a flip, thoughts leaving him as he claimed her mouth once more.

"Again." He groaned. The fur of his tail tickled her spine. "What do you want?"

"You," she forced out, eyes fluttering close as Cardan's hands reached for the button of her jeans. "Say that again, Jude. You want me?"

"Yes."

"Say it," the tail squeezed tighter around her bare middle and Jude became vaguely aware that her pants were gone as well. "I- I want you, Cardan." She breathed out, quickly, impatiently. To which the young king responded with a guttural moan, dwelling in the feeling of hearing Jude say those words. But Cardan couldn't forget the months his queen spent in the mortal land, neither could he pretend she didn't went out on dates. A slow smile itched on his lips, dark and mischievous, like its owner.

"Then prove it." Their eyes met, staring unmovingly for what seemed like hours until one of the king's maniquered eyebrows arched in a silent dare. "It's time to bow down, your highness," he rasped out, trailing his gaze to the floor and back to Jude. "Get on your knees for me, Jude." Cardan's tone was taunting as he traced his thumb over her swollen lips.

The mortal's heart raced against her rib cage when she passed her tongue over her lips, forgetting about her husband's finger laying innocently on the pink flesh of her mouth. She watched as he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing while his feather light touch hardened on her face. And without leaving his gaze, Jude sunk on her knees.

Cardan's smirk widened. The High King had imagined this times before: Jude, on her knees before him, ready and willing to please him. He loosened the ties of his pants, freeing his hard erection. His fingers threaded through her hair, bringing Jude's head closer. She finally broke the eye contact, focusing as she brushed her parted lips over his cock's tip. Cardan's grip on her head tighten, and with a swift motion he bucked his hips against her mouth. The sharp movement pushed the fae king's dick further down her throat and the mortal's eyes widened before recovering and rolling her tongue over it.

The High King set a terribly fast pace, keeping his hands on Jude's head to coordinate her. She licked up and down, lips brushing the sensitive skin as Jude sucked on the fae's cock. Her moans vibrated against him, sending Cardan in a frenzy. "Good girl," he rasped softly. One more roll of his hips caused Jude to lose balance. Her palms moved forward, supporting her weight.

The king groaned, the image of his wife on all fours building the familiar knot in his stomach. But he wasn't done yet. "Get up." As soon as she did, he pushed her back to the wall. Jude was biting her bottom lip, disheveled, feeling warm and heated on the inside – a mix of ecstasy and embarrassment. When Cardan tossed away his own shirt, completely bare like herself, Jude couldn't stop her hands from touching the light muscles of his chest. "So eager to touch me."

As the words left his mouth, the fae king picked the mortal up. Jude's legs snapped wide open, circling Cardan's waist. Without warning, he thrusted inside her, snatching from her a breathless gasp. "Cardan," she moaned.

"That's it, Jude. There's only me for you." He said in a low groan, pushing deeper with each thrust. His hands digged in her sides as his tail wrapped around Jude's leg, pulling her towards him in sync with his thrusts. Her fingers tugged at his hair as she arched her back. "C- ah- rdan." As soon as she did, the king attached his mouth to one of her breasts. He sucked on the skin, kissing his way down to the sensitive nipple. He licked it once, twice, biting hard on it. "Cardan!" She yelped, which only caused a chuckle to echo on her chest Cardan to give the other breast the same treatment.

His thrusts became more urgent, her walls tightening perfectly around his cock. And just as Jude was about to come, Cardan stopped.

"What are you doing?" She asked out of breath.

He gripped her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. "What?" He feigned innocence. "Is there anything you wanted?"

She glared at him. He took one step backwards. Jude whined at the empty feeling when Cardan's dick slided out of her. "You shouldn't have go out with someone else." He took another step back. The king was close enough that their naked chests bumped against one another, but too far for Jude's liking, especially after the heights of pleasure he carried her on. He moved again, slowly and mockingly, unwrapping his tail off her thigh and crossing his arm.

"Wait!" Jude pleaded. "Please."

Cardan arched a brow expectantly. "Hm? Please what, Jude?"

"Get back here and..."

The High King shook his head. "The time when you ordered me around is gone. If you want something from me, beg, Jude. Beg me for it."

And she did. Heavens make her forget it, she did. The mortal queen pleaded, eyes cast on the floor in shame, voice shaking. There was a pause after she spoke. Silence settled agonizingly and then she dared to look up.

Cardan's eyes sparkled with delight, a cruel smile spread on his face. He walked towards her so fast Jude couldn't fully comprehend it until his lips were crushing hers. His hands cupping her face with a ferocious force, tongue pushing against her own and tow sets of teeth clenching. She moaned, anticipation growing in her chest. But Cardan pulled back and morphed his features in a fake pout.

"Too bad you've been acting poorly, Jude. But maybe next time, if you ask nicely."

And with that, he's gone, leaving Jude naked, heated and ravished, wanting for more.

#jurdan fic #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jude and cardan #jude x cardan #cardan x jude #cardan and jude #high king cardan #king cardan #cardan duarte #cardanandjude #jude greenbriar #jude cardan #high queen jude #queen jude #the wicked king #wicked king #the exile #the folk of the air #jurdan fanfic #my writing #my fic #female writers #aspiring writer #fic writer #spicy reads #smutty

[tobesolonely]

aura (II)

A/n: hi everyone! thank you for reading aura and enjoying it enough to ask for a part 2! i hope this lives up to what you guys want! Thanks so much <3 p.s. i am so sorry but I lost track of who asked to be on the taglist :-( So if u would like, please send me an ask and i will definitely add you next time i post about them!

summary: witch!y/n can see auras and harry is no longer blue. he’s pink!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry always found Y/N to be a bit strange since his first encounter with her, but he never thought she was the type who could kill house plants with just the flick of her finger.

“What just happened?” Harry loudly questions, moving as far away from her as he could get. “How did you do that? What’s going on?” His aura is red and muddy gray. Anxiety, nervousness, and fear.

“How did I do what?” Y/N asks. She wasn’t willing to give herself up so easily.

“You killed my Pothos! I saw you,” Harry points at her accusingly. “Saw ya flick your finger and then it died. Do y’know how hard it is for that thing to die? I forget to water it all the time and it was still doin’ great!”

“Really? It didn’t look too great when I got here -”

“That’s not true,” Harry interrupts her. “You’re tryin’ to make me feel crazy! I know what I saw.”

It’s silent. Neither Y/N nor Harry says anything for what has to be at least half a minute. Y/N doesn’t know if she should tell the truth or try to convince Harry he didn’t see what he thought he saw, and Harry is too frightened to move. Finally, Y/N breaks the silence.

“Harry, it was your bad energy that killed your plant. I was just redirecting it because I didn’t wanna be stuck with it again.” Y/N nervously tugs on the hem of her shirt.

“What do you mean?” Harry inquires, moving slightly closer to her once more. He was still frightened, but quite curious about how Y/N would explain the situation at hand.

Y/N didn’t know what to say. If there was one thing she knew, it was that her… capabilities were not really supposed to be shared with anyone. Of course, they weren’t! It was a hard concept to understand. It was assumed that people who didn’t have this ability would ostracize those who did— potentially even hurt them.

She knew in her heart that Harry wasn’t the type to ever harm her, but her mother always told her she could never be too careful. Y/N lived by those words, always replaying them in her head whenever she wanted to open up to anyone about all that she could do. Harry looks at Y/N expectantly, waiting for her to speak. She seems far away, lost in some thought that Harry didn’t want to break her from.

“Ever since I was little, I’ve always been a really empathetic person,” she starts. “It seemed like I always knew the right things to say to help someone feel better, and I could always cheer them up. My saying this isn’t to brag at all, it was just how it was.” Harry smiles at this but doesn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue.

“I realized something was different about me when my friend came to school one day really sad because her fish had died that morning,” Y/N inhales softly. “Of course I felt for her, you know? Like I said, I was a very empathetic person. When I went in to give her a hug though, I felt so weird immediately after! She was fine, though. It was like she didn’t even care anymore.”

“She just wasn’t sad about it anymore?”

“She missed her fish still, of course. She was just able to reflect on how happy having a pet fish made her and all the good times she had with him. I felt terrible, though. I literally had taken on her pain just from hugging her.”

As Harry takes in what she’s saying, it all starts to make sense to him.

The second time he met her, she was so adamant about knowing what was wrong with him. Harry thought he only felt better because he had talked to her about it instead of holding it in as he usually did (and that could’ve been part of the reason!), but she had also touched him.

It had happened so quickly, Harry didn’t even think anything of it. And why would he? It was nothing more than a gentle touch, gone as quickly as it was there. Now that he knew what he did, it all made sense.

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?”

“You can ask me anything, Harry.”

“How do you always know when I’m not feelin’ well? Jus’ by looking at me?”

“Well,” Y/N starts, a bit hesitant. “I can see it. Your aura.”

“My aura?”

“Your spiritual energy— it has colors.”

“What color am I right now?”

“Red and gray. You’re scared and nervous.” Y/N responds quickly. She’s right.

“How can you see it?”

“I’m not sure. I started becoming able to see auras once I learned I was able to take away people’s emotional pain…” Y/N trails off. “I know it’s odd.”

“Can you… show me?”

“You want me to show you? Show you what?”

“The thing you jus’ did.”

“It only works when you have bad energy.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at Y/N in confusion. “Thought you said I was scared and nervous?”

“Well,” Y/N hesitates. “Now you’re… uh, pink.”

“Pink?”

“You’re feeling love.”

Harry feels his cheeks flush as he quickly looks away, hating in that moment that Y/N could literally see what he was feeling. If that was really the case, how much longer would he be able to fight with himself about how he felt about her if even she knew his true feelings?  

He’s saved by the sound of his doorbell ringing, figuring it was his assistant dropping off lunch for him and Y/N. “Be right back.” He says quietly, getting up from the couch, still avoiding eye contact with Y/N.

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to be confused.

She was beginning to notice that Harry turned pink around her quite often— literally. Not only would his skin flush at her presence, but his aura would change too. Y/N decided to tell herself there was no way it could mean anything. Of course it meant nothing! She just met this man. His feelings (or lack of) for her meant nothing. Y/N was just glad Harry couldn’t read her aura in the same way she could read his.

If he could, he would see she was always pink, too.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N.

She was magical. Literally.

After she had left that evening, Harry spent more time than he would like to admit researching auras and empathy. He learned there was a range of colors one's auras could be at any given time, and it was always subject to change. Harry figured that if he could see Y/N’s aura, it would always be shining gold.

Y/N didn’t explicitly tell Harry not to tell anyone about this, but he knew it was something he should keep to himself. He wanted her to trust him and know she was safe around him. Telling anyone what he assumed to be her biggest secret would do nothing but push her away from him— and that was the last thing Harry wanted.

He needed to hear her sweet voice again.

Harry didn’t want Y/N to think he was obsessed with her, but the cat was already out the bag. She could literally see that he had feelings for her. The way Harry saw things, this meant he could lean into his small crush on Y/N now rather than try and deny it. He just hoped she wouldn’t find him bothersome.

When she picks up his call after the third ring, Harry swears his heart just about beats out of his chest.

”Hi Harry. How are you?”

It takes him a moment to compose himself. “H- hi Y/N. Doin’ better, thanks for askin’... I was thinking of you.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Harry hums. “S’why I called. What are you up to today?”

“Nothing, really. Just at work.”

Oh. Work.

Y/N was so celestial, heavenly that Harry had forgotten she at her core a regular person who still had to work to pay their bills, just like everyone else. Just like him.

“I don’t mean to bother you while you’re busy. I’ll let you go.” Harry offers this as a courtesy, but he’s hoping Y/N will say he’s not a bother at all and she’s happy to talk to him.

“I think that would work out a bit better. I’ll talk to you as soon as I can. Bye, Harry!”

Harry is met with three short beeps that signify the call has ended.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about Harry.

He called her first! It made her heart flutter to know he was thinking of her. She’s glad he doesn’t know she was thinking about him as well.

It was nice to hear from him. Truth be told, Y/N was always worried about Harry. She worried that he wasn’t sleeping enough, eating enough, or telling people ‘yes’ when he should really be saying ‘no’. She worried he was unhappy. All she wanted was for him to be happy. Although Y/N couldn’t physically see him over the phone, she knew he was doing well today.

Y/N couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised to see Harry’s number flash across her phone. She thought that surely after telling him what she did he would want nothing to do with her. She was glad that he didn’t scare away easily, and that just made her feel even more warmth inside of her body. Y/N looked around the workroom filled with her other co-workers and she hoped there was no one else like her in the building lest they see how pink she was. She was absolutely smitten!

“Y/N, are you with us? What do you think?”

Y/N is broken out of her thoughts by her boss with the call of her name. In her Harry-haze she had completely zoned out, forgetting she was in the middle of an important work meeting.

“I’m very sorry. My mind was somewhere else for a moment,” she turns to face her boss, eyes wonder-filled.  “Would you mind repeating the question?” Y/N sees her boss briefly turn from red to pink and back to yellow before he repeats himself, clearing his throat.

Y/N smirks to herself. Men were too easy.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“What’s got you so smiley?”

Harry jumps slightly, redirecting his attention to his manager. “Whatdya mean?”

“Been smiling and strumming your guitar for ten minutes straight,” Jeff narrows his eyes at Harry. “Are you thinking of that girl again?”

“Y/N,” Harry corrects him immediately. “What are you gonna do if I am?”

“Tell you to snap out of it, man. She’s got you this distracted already and she doesn’t even know you have a crush on her?”

Harry wants to tell him that she does even though he’s not explicitly stated it, but then that would lead to a conversation that wasn’t his to have. So he changes the subject—slightly.

“What do think about me inviting Y/N to the studio? You’ll finally be able to put a face to the name,” Harry adds once he sees the look his manager gives him every time he’s about to tell him no. “I trust her. I jus’ want her opinion on a few things. I know she won’t leak anything.”

“I’m not sure if that’s your greatest idea…” Jeff trails off giving Harry one of his infamous looks of doubt.

“I wouldn’t even be suggesting this if I didn’t trust her with everything in me. ‘Ve never suggested this any other time, have I?”

Jeff gives Harry a pointed look, although he can’t argue with that.

“Fine, invite her. She’s signing papers though…”

Jeff’s voice is nothing more than background noise as he dials Y/N’s number, which he embarrassingly already knows by heart.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

When Harry comes out of the large, wooden double-doors to meet Y/N, he’s glowing. He’s a flash of dazzling gold and pink, his aura not being able to just land on one. Y/N is flattered that he still turns pink when he sees her, and relieved to see him so happy. So relaxed.

“So glad you could make it,” Harry tells Y/N, pulling her in for a tight hug. “My manager had a fit when I told him you were comin’, he’s jus’ very protective of me and my music. Don’t take it personally.”

“I understand,” Y/N tells him honestly. “I don’t blame your manager for not being too keen on me crashing in on one of your sessions. I could leave my phone in the car if that would make you both feel better?”

Y/N made things so easy. She was perfect in Harry’s eyes.

“I trust you completely. It might make my manager feel a bit better though…” Harry trails off, feeling sheepish. Y/N nods and unlocks her car without saying anything, retrieving her phone from her purse and hiding it away in her glove compartment.

“There. Just me and my ears now.” She lets out the sweetest giggle Harry’s ever heard, and he swears he could melt.

“Follow me, then.”

Harry makes his way back inside the studio but feels weird with Y/N trailing so closely behind him, not speaking or physically touching him. He stops and turns to face her, reluctantly reaching his hand out for her to grab. She looks at him for a moment, analyzing his energy before shakily intertwining her finger with his. Harry glows pink—so much so that he was nearly shining red. Y/N was having a difficult time differentiating between the glow of his aura and the glow of his cheeks.

He continues walking down the hall, now feeling like he was on top of the world because he had the most beautiful girl in the universe’s hand in his. Harry was ready to get to work. She was his new biggest inspiration.

Y/N’s having the greatest time watching Harry’s colors. He’s so happy and full of love! The fact that Harry was in such good spirits possibly because of Y/N made her feel like she was floating on a cloud.

Harry feels Y/N’s hesitation to enter the room that now holds not only Jeff but Mitch as well. She pulls back slightly on his hand, hiding timidly behind his broad shoulders. “What’s wrong?” He asks quietly, turning to face her.

“I don’t think they’re happy to see me…” Y/N trails off.

“How do you know?” Harry asks habitually before he realizes who he’s talking to. He knows how she knows. He internally cringes at his question.

“They’re both red,” she shifts from foot to foot. “I can leave. I don’t want to cause any problems—”

“No!” Harry says a bit too loudly. Jeff and Mitch turn to look in their direction, finally aware of their presence. Harry blushes, speaking a bit more quietly. “Sorry. Jus’... don’t leave. I promise they’re not mad that you’re here. They’re just a bit nervous because you’re new and they’ve never met you before. I’ll tell ‘em you left your phone in the car though and it’ll all be good. Yeah?”

Y/N nods, not completely certain Harry could get these men to warm up to her just because he said so. He tilts her chin up so she’s looking in his eyes, and he gives her a warm smile.

“Hey… what color am I?”

Y/N swallows thickly before answering. “You’re yellow… and pink.”

“See? ‘M not red. It’s all good, darling. Believe me when I say that.”

Y/N’s heart beats faster at the pet name and she just hopes Harry can’t hear it. She gives him a forced smile before grabbing his hand again and following him inside of the small room.

“Jeff, Mitch,” Harry starts, swinging Y/N’s hand in his. “This is Y/N.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Jeff says. Harry shoots him a look, silently pleading him to not say anything that’ll embarrass him. Luckily for Harry, Jeff catches onto this and keeps his introduction simple. “I’m Jeff, Harry’s manager.”

“Hi,” Y/N responds. Harry’s heart-strings feel like they’re being tugged at when he hears how quiet Y/N has become. “I left my phone in the car.” Jeff shoots Harry a surprised looked to which Harry gives a small nod in confirmation. Jeff hums, satisfied.

“We’re glad you could join us. I’m not sure if you have any experience in music, but it’ll be nice to get a fresh opinion on some things.”

Mitch gives Y/N a small nod and a smile, and Harry feels her grip on his hand tighten. “Don’t worry. Mitch is just shy.” Harry quietly reassures her. She loosens her grip on his hand slightly, feeling a bit more at ease.

“Where should I sit?”

“Y’can sit on that couch over there. Can I get you anything to drink? Have you ate, I can order food if you haven’t?”

Harry and Y/N are in their own world, only focused on each other. This doesn’t go unnoticed to Jeff or Mitch, and they share knowing looks behind the pair’s backs.

“What do you guys want to eat? Y/N hasn’t eaten yet,” Harry says, already searching for his text thread with his assistant. “Sushi? Mexican?”

“Whatever Y/N wants,” Mitch says, strumming a few random chords on his guitar. “Anything’s fine with me.”

Harry’s satisfied with this answer, just wanting to give all his attention back to Y/N. “Whatdya want to eat, love?”

“Do you all like veggie pizza?”

“Eh–”

Harry shoots Jeff a look that tells him not to disagree with her, so Jeff looks down and acts preoccupied with his phone. “That sounds really good, Y/N. I’ll order that.”

Harry actually hated veggie pizza. He hoped Y/N couldn’t tell.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

”I just miss your accent and your friends…”

Harry was blue and Y/N hated it.

She knew he was pulling from old memories for his songs, but she hated when he was upset. Y/N was in a trance, though. Harry’s voice was beautiful. His songs pulled her in like magic. They were captivating, and so, so beautiful.

Y/N was enjoying being in the recording studio. She never had any experience like it, and it was interesting to see all the hard work that went into making just one song.

”Don’t you call him “baby”, we’re not talking lately,” Harry sings into his microphone sadly, licking his lips during the pause. “Don’t you call him what you used to call me…”

Y/N just wanted to go into the recording booth and hug Harry, take his pain away. She knew now wasn’t the time nor place for that, though. She’d check on him later.

“That’s good,” Jeff says, giving Harry a thumbs up. Harry gives him one back and takes his clunky earphones off, setting them beside his feet.

“How was that?” Harry asks Y/N as soon as he’s out of the recording booth. The musician in him knew it wasn’t bad, but he still wanted her praise.

“Very beautiful! Are you okay?” She gives Harry one of those knowing looks he’s growing to love. He shrugs, leaning down to speak quietly to her.

“Singin’ about someone who used to be very special to me,” he says, glancing down at his Vans-clad feet. “I’m okay, though. Don’t worry about me.”

Y/N wanted to tell Harry she always worried about him. She wanted to scream it in his face so he understood how much she cared for his well-being. She does neither of the two. “Okay, Harry. I’m just checking.”

Harry loved that she was “just checking”. He wanted to tell Y/N that he never wanted her to stop caring for him, as he would never stop caring for her. He does neither of the two. “Thank you for checking, Y/N.”

Unbeknownst to them, they were both falling deeper for each other.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Y/N, are we gonna watch our movie tonight, or are you busy?” Y/N’s roommate, Amalia, peaks her head into her bedroom. Y/N was busy hanging upside down on her bed. Texting Harry.

“What? Oh, is it Friday? Let me just take off my makeup... “ Y/N locks her phone and slowly sits up, taking care not to smush her sleeping kitty who was currently snoring beside her.

“Who were you texting? You’ve been on your phone a lot more than usual lately,” Amalia notes, coming completely into Y/N’s room. “A boy?”

Y/N feels her body heat up at her roommate’s observation. “Maybe…”

“Y/N! You’ve gotta tell me! Who is he, is he cute?” Her roommate makes herself comfortable on Y/N’s bed, folding her legs beneath her. Sapphire startles slightly but quickly falls back asleep, curling her tail closer to her.

“You might know him,” Y/N begins. She and Harry never had a conversation about telling others about their association with others. She trusted her roommate, but she wasn’t sure if he would appreciate it. She decides she’ll just call him. “I’ll actually just call him. Hopefully, he’s not busy.”

Amalia finds it odd that Y/N would rather call this man than just tell her about him, but she says nothing, of course. She was used to her roommate’s behavior. She was different, and that’s why she loved her so much!

“Can you FaceTime him? I wanna see what he looks like,” Amalia claps her hands together out of excitement, feeling anticipation bubble in her stomach. She was hoping her roommate finally found someone for her so they could join her and her boyfriend on double dates and couples game nights.

“FaceTime him?” Y/N had never done that before. She and Harry always just spoke on the phone, and lately, they had gotten into texting. She hoped he wouldn’t mind. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Y/N pulls up the app on her phone and types in Harry’s contact name (which was ‘Harry’ with three pink hearts, which she would never tell him!) and bites her lip as she waits for him to answer. As an afterthought, she reaches for her earphones and connects them to her phone just in case her roommate recognizes his voice. After all, everyone on the planet knew who Harry was except for Y/N. He answers almost immediately, a dimpled smile on his face and a beautiful pink light surrounding him.

“Was jus’ thinking of you. Are we in sync? I swear I was about to call you,” Harry tells her, not being able to stop his toothy grin. “Is everything okay?”

“Well,” Y/N feels nervous. His gaze is still as intense and attentive, even though a phone screen. “I’m just hanging out with my roommate and she noticed I’ve been smiling at my phone a lot—”

“A very observant roommate.”

“Yeah, and she wanted to know if I was texting a boy. I didn’t know if it was okay to say anything but she’s beside me so do you want to say hi? It’s okay if you don’t want to, and I’m sorry if you’re busy right now…”

Harry’s gaze visibly softens. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

“You know why.”

Harry hums. “I’d love to meet your roommate. Go ahead and give her the phone.”

Y/N examines Harry for a moment, trying to determine if he’s telling the truth. His aura is slightly tinged red but it’s mainly yellow, making him glow the color of a sunset. He was probably a bit anxious, but he was happy. That was most important to Y/N. Amalia is sitting at the end of Y/N’s bed quietly, scratching Sapphire’s head while she waits. She watches as Y/N unplugs her earphones from her phone and wordlessly hands it to her.

Amalia’s mouth drops.

“Hi, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Harry.”

Amalia’s entire body feels tingly.

“H- hi. Uh, I’m Amalia. Y/N’s roommate,” she looks up at Y/N, eyes wide. “It’s… wow. I’m sorry, I kinda don’t know what to say right now. I’m such a big fan of yours!”

Y/N hears Harry’s beautiful laugh and she smiles. It was his shy laugh. He was flattered. Maybe a bit flustered.

“That’s very, very nice of you. Thank you for the support.”

“Are you and Y/N dating? I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!” Amalia gives Y/N an accusatory scowl and she feels her body heat up at her roommate’s words.

“Not at the moment, but I’m working on it,” Harry tells her. Y/N doesn’t need to see him to know he’s pink. “I think she was jus’ tryin’ to protect my privacy. Which I appreciate, of course. But a friend of Y/N is a friend of mine! She has good judgment.”

Y/N can’t believe Harry’s “working on it”. He cares for her much more than she had initially thought, and Y/N just hopes he knows how much she cares for him as well. Even if she doesn’t say it.

“I’m gonna give the phone back to Y/N before I say something to embarrass myself, but it was really nice to meet you!” Amalia shakily hands the phone back to Y/N as Harry is telling her it was nice to meet her too.

Y/N is happy to see his face again. He immediately turns pink once he sees her again, a light blush tinging his cheeks. “She’s very nice. We should all go out to brunch one afternoon, how’s that sound?” Y/N nods, glancing at her roommate who currently looked like she was on the verge of fainting, bright pink just as Harry was. She was infatuated.

“Amalia’s amazing,” Y/N replies. “I was just calling to say hi, but I’m glad to see you’re doing good. I’ll talk to you later?” A deep indigo color slowly surrounds Harry at the prospect of Y/N ending the call, making Y/N frown. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Friday’s are our movie nights…”

“Oh!” Harry turns yellow again. “I didn’t mean to keep you from that. I’d like that, though. Lunch tomorrow?”

“And the studio?” Y/N asks, used to their routine. Harry shakes his head.

“Was thinking we do something else. Get out of there for the afternoon? ‘M sure you get bored jus’ watchin’ me sing all day. The last thing I want is for you to be bored.”

Y/N nearly laughed out loud. She was never bored when she was with Harry. She could simply sit and watch the grass grow with him, and she’d still be thoroughly entertained.

“I don’t want you to fall behind because of me.”

“S’my album. I can take a day off, darling. Hey–– can ya look at me?” Y/N knows Harry is asking her to examine what color he is. She nods after a moment.

“Okay, Harry. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” she takes a thoughtful pause as she usually does. “Have a good night.”

“I’ll be counting down the minutes. You too, Y/N.” The call disconnects. Y/N feels her heart about to beat out of her chest. Counting down the minutes.

She was counting down the minutes, too.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry was nervous to see Y/N. He hadn’t been alone with her since the day at his house when she came over to keep him company while he was sick. Their relationship was progressing quicker than anticipated, but neither of the two had any complaints.

Per Harry’s request (or, after a ton of his begging) Y/N agreed to let Harry pick her up instead of driving separately and meeting up like they usually do. He was excited to finally know where Y/N lived. When he thought of any space Y/N cultivated, he imagined it to be a bit cluttered. Lots of paintings on the walls. Perhaps some personal photographs of friends and family.

When Harry approaches Y/N’s apartment complex, he isn’t surprised to see that she lives in one of the oldest-looking buildings he’s ever seen. He was sure that when he asked her about it later, she would tell him that old buildings had the most character or something along those lines. Harry parks in record time, albeit like a bit of an asshole, and grabs the bouquet of flowers he picked up on his way to her before hurrying out of his car. His sunglasses immediately go on and his beanie gets pulled low over his forehead in the off chance there was someone who could recognize him anywhere nearby.

“Four, eight, two, five,” Harry mutters Y/N’s gate code under his breath as he approaches it. “Four, eight, two, five…” He’s delighted when it works. Against Y/N’s wishes, he didn’t write it down when she told him, adamant about having the best memory in the world. He was glad he didn’t forget it and have to call her and ask for it again.

Harry has no difficulty at all finding her apartment. Just as she said, there were several potted plants surrounding the door and a plaque that read, ‘Welcome to our home!’. He smiled to himself. It was just so Y/N. He firmly knocks and takes a step back, tightly gripping the bouquet in his hands. The door flies open moments later and Harry is met with Y/N’s beautiful face. His nerves immediately dissipate.

“Hi, Harry–– oh! Those are beautiful!” She opens the door a bit wider. “Please, come in!”

Harry’s happy. She seems happy. Of course, he couldn’t know for sure in the way that he could, but Harry was quickly learning her mannerisms.

“Hi, darlin’. S’nice to see you,” he leans down to place a delicate kiss on her cheek. “You’re lookin’ as beautiful as ever.”

“I haven’t even gotten changed yet,” she replies dismissively, shutting the door. “I completely lost track of time. I was helping Amalia get ready for a date that she’s going on and it made me forget all about ours.”

Harry could die a happy man right now. Y/N just referred to their spending time together as a date!

“No apologizing,” Harry says sternly, handing the flowers to Y/N. “‘M not upset about it, am I? We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Y/N looks down shyly at the shabby rug beneath her feet. “Do you wanna help me pick out an outfit? I’m not too sure about what I should wear… I really think it would help if you actually told me where we were going.”

“Nice try,” Harry chuckles, following her through the apartment. It looked just as he pictured it would. “Already told you it’s a surprise.”

“I thought I would try again.”

Y/N’s room was incredible. There were plants everywhere even more than the ones surrounding her front door. Some were even hanging from the ceiling! Her walls were a pale yellow color. She had glow-in-the-dark stars and planets stuck to her ceiling, a ginormous rug that covered probably half of her wooden floor, and paintings taped haphazardly to the wall. It looked like she made them herself, too. They were lovely.

“Your room is amazing,” Harry tells her, flopping onto her bed while she digs around in her closet. Even though he had never been there before, he immediately feels comfortable. At home. “Where’s Sapphire?”

“Oh, she’s around here somewhere,” Y/N’s voice sounds a bit muffled from being in her closet. “She might be hiding. She doesn’t like men.”

“Did you tell her that I’m nice?”

Y/N turns to look at him, two shirts in her hand. “I can’t force her to like you, Harry. What do you think about these shirts?”

“I think you would look good in all of them,” Harry feels his heart rate pick up under her gaze. “You may get cold if you wear something sleeveless, though.”

Y/N says nothing in response, just stares at him. To anyone else, her staring may be weird, but Harry knew what she was doing. He stares back at her just as intensely, raising an eyebrow. Finally, she nods, turning her attention back to her closet.

“Should I wear something with long sleeves?”

Harry hums in response to her question. “I think that would be a good idea.”

Y/N turns to face him again, tugging at her oversized sleep shirt. “Do you think you can take down some shirts on the shelf for me? I don’t feel like going to get a chair all the way from the kitchen…”

“Of course I can,” Harry immediately gets up from his lying position on Y/N’s bed. “Which ones?”

“The ones in that corner,” Y/N replies, standing beside Harry. He never noticed how much shorter she was than him until she was asking him to reach things off the top-shelf for her. Harry loved it.

He reaches up with ease, grabbing a stack of neatly folded long-sleeves. In the process of pulling them down, a box comes falling off the shelf, hitting the floor with a loud clang! and the sound of broken glass. “Shit,” Harry mutters, bending down to reach for the box. “Sorry about tha’, pet–”

“Don’t touch that!” Y/N exclaims, pushing past Harry to grab the box before he does. Harry backs up, putting his hands up in the air like he was a criminal who’d just been caught.

“I didn’t touch it, I promise,” Harry quickly reassures her. “Why can’t I touch it? What is that?”

“Remember how I was telling you about bad energy?” Her voice drops to a whisper. Harry nods. “This is where I store everyone's bad energy whenever I get stuck with it. They’re in little viles, you know what I mean? Those little tubes?”

“Yeah.”

“I think the tubes broke when it fell… I can never open this box again because then the bad energy will get out and go back to their owner's body.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, trying to take in what Y/N just told him. It wasn’t the oddest thing he’s heard since he met her. “Is any of my bad energy in there?”

“Yes. Remember when we were at the Greek food place?”

Harry smiles at the memory. “How could I forget? I think that was the day that I knew I had to get to know ya. I was properly obsessed with the idea of runnin’ into you again for days.” Y/N looks away as she usually does when he gets her flustered but this time Harry moves closer to her, snaking his arms around her waist.

“Thank you for always makin’ sure ‘m happy, love,” Harry’s lips are dangerously close to hers, so close that she can smell the scent of mint on his breath. “You don’t even have to touch me to make me happy. Jus’ bein’ near you is enough.” Y/N lets out a shaky breath, not trusting her voice enough to do anything other than nod. Both of their hearts are about to beat out of their chests.

“I’d do anything to make you happy, Harry,” Y/N finally says, staring directly into his eyes. “You deserve all the happiness this life has to offer you.”

“Likewise,” Harry says, feeling intoxicated from standing so close to her. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Y/N gives Harry the biggest smile before standing on her tiptoes, smushing her lips against Harry’s. His eyes shut as he melts into the kiss, having to remind himself to stop smiling so he can properly kiss her back. Her lips are soft, and she tastes just as sweet as she actually is. His entire body tingles and his chest burns due to lack of oxygen, but he was determined not to break the kiss first. His stomach twisted from all the butterflies he had, but it was a feeling no one had made him feel in a long, long time.

Y/N’s the first one to break the kiss. She giggles as she rests her head against Harry’s chest, gasping slightly for air. “You’re a very good kisser.”

“You too.” Harry’s breathless. He doesn’t want to pull away from her so he settles on intaking short bursts of air.

“I’m gonna get changed before I decide to stand here and just kiss you all day,” Y/N tells him, finally breaking their contact. “Can you wait in the living room?”

“I wouldn’t hate that,” Harry says as he places a quick peck on her lips. “‘M gonna go put your flowers in something so they don’t die. Y’think Sapphire will come out of hiding and let me pet her since her mommy finally let me kiss her?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I thought we were getting lunch?”

Y/N had been sat in Harry’s passenger seat for slightly over an hour now, his hand hardly leaving hers the entire time. He was yellow for the most part (except when Y/N would speak he turned pink). Song after song played lowly over the stereo, but it was mainly just background noise–– neither one of them was really listening to it.

“We are.”

“Why are we driving so far?” 

“I wanna take you to a really nice spot. Is that okay?”

“Are we almost there?” She stares intensely at Harry and she knows he can feel her eyes on him. He flashes red for a moment causing Y/N to cock her head in confusion. “Why are you nervous?”

“I don’t want you to think our date is boring.”

“Why would I think it’s boring?”

“Have you ever been to Balboa Park? San Diego?” Harry tears his eyes from the road briefly to look at her and he’s relieved to see a look of excitement in her eyes.

“I’ve never been but from the pictures I’ve seen it looks sooo beautiful! Are we going there?” Her grip on his hand tightens slightly.

“Mhm,” Y/N sees Harry visibly relax. “Figure we could grab a bite after? Or before, depending on how hungry you are.”

“We should eat before! Are we allowed to eat in the park? We should have a picnic–– can we do that?” Y/N is talking a mile a minute, too excited to slow down. She turns in the passenger seat to face Harry fully, hand still in his. “We’re going to the gardens, right?” 

“We’re doin’ whatever you want, love. I have some things planned that I think you would like but nothing’s set in stone.”

Y/N loves the fact that Harry took it upon himself to plan out their day. She decides she would go along with whatever he had planned, seeing as he’s been there before and she hasn’t.

They arrive at the park approximately thirty minutes later and Y/N quickly unbuckles her seatbelt and lets herself out of the car before Harry can open the door for her himself. He laughs to himself at her excitement.

“Where are we going first?” Y/N reaches for Harry’s hand seemingly out of habit, not thinking twice before doing so. If she wasn’t busy looking around in awe, she’d see Harry looking down at their interlocked fingers with a big smile on his face.

“How ‘bout we get you something to eat first then go find a spot to have a lil’ picnic? The last time I was here I remember seein’ people eating under this ginormous tree–”

“Okay!” Y/N agrees cheerily, dragging Harry through the parking lot. She was leading the way even though she had no clue where she was going. “Wait, where are we going?”

“How about I lead the way?” Harry is a mixture of green and yellow. He was happy and enjoying the prospect of a nature-filled day.

“Harry, what’s your favorite part about nature?”

“What’s tha’?”

“I see that you like nature, so I just wanted to know what you liked the most about it,” Y/N replies, swinging their hands. 

“It’s calming. I think ‘ve written some of my best songs surrounded by trees and water and things like that. What do you like the most about nature?”

“It’s beautiful. Plants help us and we help them.”

Harry smiles in response to her answer but says nothing, walking her the rest of the way through the parking lot and to the entrance of the park. Once inside they set out on finding something to quickly fill their stomachs with, not wanting to waste too much time eating.

“How do sandwiches sound?” Harry asks, nodding his head in the direction of a sandwich shop. “Quick and easy, isn’t it?”

“Can we still eat them under the fig tree?”

“Whatever you’d like, darling. S’your world, ‘m just livin’ in it.” 

Even though he lets out a chuckle after saying that, Y/N knew he was being completely serious.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry could listen to Y/N talk all day. He never wanted to stop hearing her sweet voice. Y/N’s attention was fixated on the beautiful, blooming gardens–– but Harry was only fixated on her.

She pointed out nearly everything they saw, impressing Harry with her knowledge on plant names and pointless information on how to care for them. She asked Harry to stand in front of all her favorite plants so she could take a picture of him to “commemorate the day” and Harry was more than willing to do so. Anything to keep a smile on her face. Y/N had grown tired of carrying her purse over her shoulder about an hour back and Harry even offered to wear it for her so she wouldn’t have a sore shoulder the next morning.

They decided to call it quits once the sun started setting, walking hand in hand quietly back to Harry’s car. He opens the door for her and checks to make sure she’s all the way in before slamming it shut and walking around to his side. He immediately reaches for her hand again, loving the way it felt in his way too much to not hold it at all times.

“Did you have a good time today?” Harry asks, looking at Y/N’s face in the dim light. She nods sheepishly, looking down at the hands.

“I had an amazing time. I can’t believe you drove all the way out here just for me,” she traces her fingers over one of Harry’s rings. “Thank you for today.”

“How many times have I gotta tell ya I’d do anything for you?” Harry questions, leaning over the center console to be closer to her. “Loved seein’ that beautiful smile on your face today. Made me happy.”

“You’re just saying that…”

“Oh, come off it,” Harry jokes, kissing her cheek before leaning back over to start his car. “Know you saw how happy I was the whole day. S’all because of you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees Y/N lean over as he previously was so her face is close to his. She gently places the hand that was holding Harry’s on his face and turns his head so he’s fully facing her, licking her lips before she connects them with his. Harry melts into the kiss as he did earlier, feeling as if time stopped when their lips were pressed together. It was the most gentle, loving kiss Harry ever shared with another person.

He could get used to this.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

please let me know what you thought!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #aura #thanks for reading!

[streetlight11]

Love Notes

Summary: People usually mistake Slytherins as the mean and nasty ones. Nobody told you that you would be stuck with the loud and obnoxious boy from Gryffindor. One day during your fifth year, you started receiving anonymous notes in your books, pockets, table, etc. The question is, who gave them to you?

Theme: Hogwarts au, enemies to lovers

Genre: fluff, angst [not really]

Warnings: none

WC: 4.9k

Pairing: Gryffindor!Haknyeon x Slytherin!FemReader

a/n: Hi again :) I've been binge watching Harry Potter movies for the past few days and I love it so much. So here's a little Hogwarts fic with Hakkie! Do send me requests if you have any! I'm open to writing them :)

Going to Hogwarts was probably the best thing to happen to you. And getting yourself sorted into Slytherin house was also the best thing to ever happen to you. Except, nobody told you that you would have a horrendous time being in the same classes as the loud and obnoxious boy from Gryffindor.

His name?

Was Ju Haknyeon.

“Did you lose your way to class again today?” Haknyeon teased when you arrived at your seat that just so happens to be right in front of him. You were in your fifth year and yet he has never once gone a day without getting on a single nerve on your body.

“Did you lose your pacifier on your way here cause you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut.” You scowled at him only to earn a soft chuckle from him.

“Look who’s talking now…” Haknyeon smirks, earning a kick to his desk from you. Your seat partner and also one of your close friends, Wooyoung couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the said boy.

Professor Snape finally dismissed the class as everyone quickly scrambled out of the room. You were walking with Wooyoung and Yeosang as the former began rambling about his terrible date yesterday when you suddenly felt an arm over your shoulder. The last person you hoped for it to be, ends up proving you wrong the minute he spoke.

“Hey hey, have you practiced for the Quidditch game this season? Wouldn’t wanna lose your Quidditch title to other houses.” Haknyeon whispered into your ear, making you push his face away.

“Do you ever shut up?” You said as he smirked, casually pursing his lips into a kissy face.

You rolled your eyes at him, elbowing his stomach to make him leave your side. Haknyeon left your side for a brief moment before coming back to you to stop in front of you while leaning down a little to match your height. Once he was right in front of you, he smirked cheekily at you.

“I won’t shut up when I’m with you, darling.” He whispered.

You cupped his face with both hands, only to lean in to let your lips hover over his as you whispered under your breath, “Don’t make me do it for you, sweetheart.” The moment you pulled away from him and began to walk away, Haknyeon could’ve sworn he felt his heart skip a few beats.

“Now, class, please open to page 367.” Professor McGonagall announced as you heard the sounds of pages being turned. You did the same, flipping the pages a few at a time until a slip of note drops out from your book. It was a pretty blue colour that has been folded into the shape of a flower.

“Did you put this in my book?” You asked Wooyoung who was seated beside you, only for him to shake his head. Just then, a voice came from behind you.

“Oh look, the Slytherin’s princess got herself a love note.” Haknyeon said. It annoyed you to the point where you had to cast a spell on him from under your desk to shut him up for 2 hours. A few weeks have gone by and you have been getting anonymous notes slipped into your textbooks, locker, and sometimes even in your coat pockets.

However, all the notes always end up in your bag, never touched or read before.

It was a Thursday afternoon and you were just walking into your Transfiguration class when a female student from Hufflepuff came up to you giddily excited as she informed you what she saw.

“Omg Y/N! Someone gave you a rose and a letter! It’s on your desk!” She squeaked, allowing a couple of eyes to land on you, who was standing at the back of the class with Wooyoung and Yeosang. With that being said, you glanced over to your desk to find that she was right.

However, you noticed that Haknyeon’s table was empty. Maybe he finally got sick and couldn’t come to class today.

“The Slytherin’s princess got a gift today huh? That’s new.”

Maybe not.

Haknyeon said casually as he strolls past you with his hands tucked into his pant’s pockets while he makes his way over to his desk. You rolled your eyes at the back of his head before walking up to your desk and soon took the rose and note only to stuff it in your bag.

“Why don’t you read it outloud for all of us to hear, darling? I’m sure your admirer would love to see the way your eyes turn into heart shapes for them.” Haknyeon smirked.

You couldn’t lie, Haknyeon has in fact gotten slightly more manlier in built and also a bit more nicer looking in terms of his face features.

Which is why you’d be damned if you admitted out loud that your heart did a little flip when he smirked at you.

“The last person I’d wanna read it aloud to is you so no, that won’t happen.” You grumbled before sitting down at your desk. Wooyoung couldn’t help but chuckle as he told you about Haknyeon's offended face he made after you said that.

A few hours later, everyone was making their way back to their common rooms after dinner. You were just walking towards the Slytherin’s common room when Felix spoke up to you, “Hey, is it true you’ve been getting love notes from someone in class?”

“I don’t know what they are, I’ve never opened them.” You confessed, earning a few gasps from your friends.

“Aren’t you even a slight bit curious?” Minho asked.

“Look, I doubt it’s even real. It might just be a prank from someone. I don’t know…” You said almost confidently.

“Oh come on, just open one and see what it says. It doesn’t hurt to read one.” Wooyoung encouraged you as you rolled your eyes at him. It was already after hours. Everyone was asleep except you. So you quietly tip-toed your way to the living area, only to sit near the green fireplace with your bag filled with the notes you kept for the past 5 weeks. You took one of the notes out and soon unfolded it one after another.

“You look pretty today.”

“Your eyes sparkle like the green flames of your house.”

“You make me forget why I’m in this class.”

“Your smile could cure my sadness.”

“If only the clouds would make way for a sunshine like you”

“Don’t lose that smile, it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen”

“Are you a love potion? Cause I feel like I’ve fallen in love with you”

You then happened to take out the note that was attached to the rose you got earlier in which it said;

“A pretty flower for a pretty girl like you.”

And the list goes on and on as you read them. However, one thing you noticed was the lack of initials, leaving these notes anonymous.

“Who are you?”

This question swirls in your head as you keep these notes in a little treasure chest your mom gave you for your 15th birthday.

You were on your way to the Quidditch field to play for the Quidditch Tournament with your team members. Upon making it to the courtyard, you just so happen to bump into Haknyeon. You noticed the Red and Gold striped sweater, along with his pants and a cloak in contrast to your full Quidditch attire together with the arms and leg gears.

“Hey guys, mind if I steal ‘yours truly’ for a moment? I promise I’ll bring her back to you guys in one whole.” Haknyeon smiles innocently to your friends, earning a few snickers from them but they nonetheless left you alone with him.

Once they were out of sight, you turned to him with a frown.

“What do you want now, Ju? And make it quick. I have a game to win.” You snapped, earning a chuckle from him.

“Relax beasty, I won’t hold you back for long.”

“So what do you want?”

“You know this is a seasonal championship right?”

“And?”

“And this year’s winner will be titled the Season’s Champion, yes?”

“O...kay?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question, not sure where this conversation was heading to.

“So let’s make a bet.”

You started to laugh as you clutched your stomach, afraid of growing six packs while you did that. Unfortunately, you didn’t get the same response from him which made you confused and eventually stopped.

“A bet? You wanna make a bet? Sure. You’ll only be crying at the end of it cause Slytherin’s gonna take the prize home.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. So let’s make a bet.” Haknyeon urges you again, to which you couldn’t help but agree just so you could prove him wrong.

“Fine. If Slytherin wins, you’re gonna leave me alone for the rest of the year.” You said.

“And if Gryffindor wins, you have to go on 3 dates with me.” He announced. You weren’t gonna lie, you were a little shocked by his proposal but you didn’t want to back out now so you shook hands on it.

“Deal.”

“Choi Jongho has gotten the snitch! Gryffindor wins!” Lee Jordan, the commentator from Gryffindor announced as you slammed your fist onto your broomstick. You’ve lost a few times before throughout your 5 years in Hogwarts but today was a little different as you had your bet with Haknyeon hanging by a thread.

You were floating about 10 feet away from Gryffindor’s stand, your gaze naturally fleeting to the left only to lock eyes with the blonde haired devil from Gryffindor who had a smirk on his face before he mouthed something so clear to you.

“I win.”

You couldn’t even respond to him so you simply flew down and back into your pitch tent along with the rest of your teammates. After you were done with post-game preps, you all began to make your way back to your common rooms.

It wasn’t until you were at the grand staircase that you bumped into Haknyeon and his friends. He gave you a cheeky little wink before snapping his fingers and soon, you felt a slip of paper magically appear in your hands.

You kept it in your hands until you went back, only opening it when you were in your bed.

“Nice game. I hope you don’t forget about our bet. See you at Three Broomsticks Inn, this Saturday. 12pm. Don’t be late. Oh, and, wear prettily ;) - JHN”

You were definitely in for a treat.

The day finally came as you made an excuse to your friends saying you couldn’t go with them to Hogsmeade because you promised to help Ginny with her Muggle studies. The minute they left, you got upstairs to change out of your pyjamas and into some comfortable jeans, a sweater, a denim jacket and a pair of worn out sneakers.

You teleported to Hogsmeade using the Floo Powder your mom gave you just in case you needed to rush home due to an emergency.

You arrived at a dark alley in Hogsmeade, making sure your friends weren’t around before you left the safety of that alley. Carefully walking past some villagers, you found your way to the Inn without getting caught. With one gentle push of the wooden door, you were immediately greeted by the bustling customers.

You looked around the room to find for the devil who shall not be named and Lord Behold, he waves over to you from one of the tables across the room. You almost lost your footing when you saw what he wore.

It was almost as if he knew what you were going to wear. He was wearing black pants with a denim jacket. Simple yet so good looking.

You went over to him only to sit on his left where it was nearer to the edge of the semi circle couch.

“You’re late, you know?” Haknyeon laughs.

“Yeah but I’m here aren’t I?” You scoffed softly under your breath, earning a little giggle from him.

“On our first date too? You’re a terrible one.” He joked.

“Fine then. Go find someone who’s on time for your date, maybe they’ll actually arrive earlier than you.” Right before you could slide out of the seat, Haknyeon gently grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Relax, I’m just kidding… Come on, butterbeer on me. Deal?” He asked, shaking his wallet in between his fingers as though telling you he really meant it when he said he’ll pay for it.

Of course you couldn’t let this moment up, which is why you agreed to it. Unfortunately, right before he could slide out the opposite end of the table, your eyes flew over to the front doors where the bell chimed indicating a customer. That’s when you saw your friends walking in and you could’ve sworn they would see you in a matter of seconds if they just turned to the left slightly.

“Oh shit!” You cursed as you grabbed hold of Haknyeon’s collar only to drag him out of the table and soon towards the back. Haknyeon was a little taken aback by your sudden aggression as he began to ask you a series of questions.

You quickly pulled him behind one of the pillars, shoving him against the concrete wall as you peeked past the pillar.

“Okay, if you want to kill me, at least do it when we’re in private.” He teased you.

“Shut up. My friends are here. I lied to them saying I can’t join them.” You whispered, trying to see if your friends wouldn’t make it to the back. What you didn’t realize was the way Haknyeon was discreetly checking you out.

“You know, for a Slytherin, you’re not as sly as you think you are. What makes you think they can’t figure out it’s you from a dist-”

“Kiss me.”

You suddenly spoke as he stared at you with wide eyes. He almost couldn’t believe his ears when you said that.

“What?”

“I said kiss me!” You loudly whispered but your eyes were frantically flickering back and forth to something behind him.

However, right before you could yell at him, you felt him snaking his right arm around your waist while the other hand reached up to cup your cheek, pulling you into a soft and gentle kiss. You fluttered your eyelids close as he turned you so that his back would be facing the open area while your smaller form gets shielded from the public eye.

You could hear your friend’s voices getting closer and closer and eventually made their way past Haknyeon’s back. You could’ve sworn you heard some of them snicker and scoff at your unknown presence.

Once they are gone, Haknyeon pulls back from you with the softest sound as he caresses your cheek for a moment.

Suddenly your heart was picking up speed against your chest. You locked eyes with him for a second or two, feeling him tilt his head slightly to make his lips brush over yours again purposely before pulling away completely.

“I reckon we should leave?” He chuckled, making you nod.

“Yes please.”

With that being said, he let you leave the hiding spot first, making sure he used his body to block you from unwanted view.

A few hours passed where he took you to a few of his favourite shops in Hogsmeade, including some personal spots around town where he usually goes when he needs space to be by himself. You were now making your way back to the castle as you both managed to not quarrel for more than a minute of being with each other.

You must admit, it was nice getting to know Haknyeon better instead of fighting with him like usual.

It has been four days since your first date with Haknyeon and again, you still received the notes. This time, it said;

“You’re cute. Can I keep you?”

With that, you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

“What? Did the person who gave you those letters finally revealed himself?” Wooyoung asked from beside you, only for you to show him the note.

“No, but isn’t it tiring to keep thinking of cheesy love notes to write almost everyday?” You whispered to him upon hearing Professor McGonagall enter the class.

“Well, I would say this person is totally head over heels for you to even write these from day 1.” Wooyoung speaks utter nonsense most of the time, but maybe he made some sense today.

You were on your second date with Haknyeon, as he promised to take you on a ride. What ride might I ask? Not just any ride. He was taking you on a ride on a Hippogriff.

“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble for this? I really don’t want to be expelled.” You warned him as he laughed at you.

“Aren’t you being a little too goody two shoes for a Slytherin?” Haknyeon teased, only to get a good slap to his arm from you.

“Say anything stupid again and I swear you’ll be the one swimming in the lake with the damn Lochness.” You threatened as he raised his arms in a surrender but there was a wide grin on his face. Something you’ve grown to adore these days.

With that, he soon hops on the magical creature easily, leaving you nervous. Haknyeon had his hand extended out for you to take but you were afraid.

“Y/N come on, we don’t have forever!” He said.

“What if I fall?” You panicked but you ended up unconsciously whining, making him giggle.

“I won’t let you fall. I promise. Now come on, darling.” Haknyeon jerks his hand to you again, only for you to stare at it for a bit before you finally take his hand into yours. He easily pulled you up and onto the animal’s back. You sat in front of him while you gently grabbed onto the creature’s neck, being careful that you don’t accidentally harm it.

“Okay Buckbeak, show us whatchu got.” Haknyeon said as he gave the creature a few pats to its belly and soon, the creature took off flying into the sky. You let out a scream, hugging the neck tightly while Haknyeon holds onto nothing.

He clearly had more experience than you in terms of flying on this creature’s back.

You had your eyes closed the entire time even when you felt the smooth glide across the air. Still being stubborn to open your eyes, you felt him tap your shoulders.

“Y/N come on! Open your eyes! You’re missing out on the view!” His voice sounded so excited behind you, it almost made you believe it wasn’t the same boy who has been a living nuisance to you all these while.

“No way! I’m just gonna panic even more if I see how high we are!” You yelled over the loud gush of wind that might be rendering your hearing.

“I promise we’ll be fine, just open your eyes! Trust me!” Haknyeon reassured you as you felt him gently slide his hands down your arms and onto your wrist to pull them away from the creature’s neck. You shook your head desperately, hoping he’d leave you alone. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t.

Instead, he thought it would be a good idea to scare you. Maybe that way you’ll finally open your eyes.

And you did.

Because the minute you heard him yell for help, you immediately opened your eyes and turned around only to find him seated firmly on Buckbeak’s back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You bloody piece of shit!” You huffed in annoyance as you turned back around only for Buckbeak to playfully tilt his body up to make you fall back slightly. That’s when a string of curses left your lips while you desperately grabbed onto its neck.

“Don’t do that Buckbeak!” You scolded the animal, only to get a little sound from him. Just then, Haknyeon decides to challenge you.

“Wanna know what it feels to fly?”

“Uhh, no?”

“It’ll be fun. Here.” Haknyeon said as he slowly reached over to grab your wrists while his firm chest softly pressed against your back but for some reason, it made you feel some sort of safety.

“W-What are you doing?” You stuttered, only for him to smile and soon spoke into your ears leaving a soft tingling feel to your skin.

“Just trust me.”

With that being said, he gently spreads your arms out on either side of you, making them act like wings for you. As Buckbeak glided through the air, you imagined you were flying until you heard him whisper into your ear, “Close your eyes.”

You did as he said, only for it to enhance the imagination. A smile naturally appears on your lips as you completely didn’t see the way he was staring at you from beside you. Ignoring the way his hands found your waist and left it there for the rest of the ride.

It was your third and final date for the bet you made with him. For some odd reason, you didn’t want it to end but of course you couldn’t tell him that. So when you met him at the lake, you looked slightly down and he noticed. Haknyeon wouldn’t let this slide easily which is why he decided to tease you about it.

“What’s with the long face, darling? Already attached to me?”

You scoffed as you approached him by the swing only for you to take a seat at the wooden plank beside his seated figure on the grass patch.

“So what? This was just for the bet anyway.” You mumbled under your breath, not realizing that he heard you.

The next few minutes went by like how your previous dates went. Constant teasing, playful jokes and banter, friendly chats and even random fights that involve you throwing a handful of dead leaves at him while he scoops water from the lake and proceeds to toss it at you.

At the end of this short date, you had just arrived at the end of the wooden bridge when he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from walking any further.

“I just remembered I promised my friends I’d meet them at the Three Broomsticks Inn in like 5 minutes so I have to leave you from here on.” He said.

“Right…” You said, your voice sounded a little sad.

“I guess the bet’s over. Thanks… for... well, going on the dates with me.” Haknyeon said, eyes flickering back and forth between your eyes and the wooden panels behind you.

“A bet’s a bet right? I’d be a wimp if I didn’t do it.” You smiled.

There was a beat of awkward silence as you got ready to leave when he said something that made your stomach flip.

“That’s it? No goodbye kiss? I thought this was a date?” Haknyeon pouted, keeping his gaze on you as stable as possible. You almost couldn’t believe your ears.

Did he just ask you for a kiss?

“I… Umm… Okay?” You stuttered in confusion, earning a soft little giggle from him.

However, the nerves soon disappear the minute he takes a step closer and soon wraps one hand around your waist while the other cups your face before he leans down to let his lips seal yours. You instantly fluttered your eyes shut, letting your hands rest on his chest.

The kiss felt so genuine, you almost forgot how you used to fight with this same boy 24/7. Haknyeon smiled against your lips as he pulled back for air shortly before kissing you again.

His lips were intoxicating, you almost forgot how to breathe. Haknyeon gives you a cheeky little lick to your bottom lip as he soon pulls away from you, leaving you breathless. You pressed your forehead softly against his as you kept your eyes shut, too embarrassed to look at him at this point.

His chuckle fills your ears as he cups your face with both hands and whispers against your lips.

“Go. Be safe. Avoid the common grounds, that’s where Filch always lurks around.” Soon after, he gave your lips another peck before you felt wind whooshing around you. Immediately, his touch left you and it almost made you crumble to the ground.

What did he do to you?

A few days later, you were just having lunch with everyone else at their respective house tables and your friends surrounded you when you saw a note slipping past from under your plate. A pretty baby blue one that is. You carefully unfolded it, only to see it read;

“I realized I was thinking of you, and I began to wonder how long you’ve been on my mind. Then it occurred to me: Since the day I met you, you’ve never left.”

For some reason, those words meant something to you.

It was as though you knew this person and have created some sort of a bond with them. And yet, you still don’t know who. However, you do now have a little suspicion on who it was and who these notes belonged to. So to test your theory, you looked up from your table, almost immediately catching the eyes of the same pair of brown ones you’ve grown accustomed to.

Haknyeon was already staring like he knew you were going to find him. What surprised you the most is the fact that he didn’t even flinch when you caught him.

You held eye contact for a second before you got cut off by Wooyoung putting a scoopful of mashed potatoes onto your plate. You gave the boy a little smack to his head, earning a choke from him. When you looked back over to Haknyeon, he was already talking to his friend with the back of his head facing you.

A few hours later, you were having your Potions class when a note popped out of nowhere from under your book. To avoid getting minus points from Snape, you quickly shoved the note into your cloak pocket and yet you still got called by the Head of Slytherin for not paying attention.

Therefore, having to serve detention.

You could only curse him in your head while you cleaned every single flask and cauldron pots till they were spick and span.

Once you were done, you left the room only to find Haknyeon leaning against the wall with one leg bent to rest his foot on the wall. He was busy playing with his Patronus charm when his eyes flicked up upon hearing the door open.

“Haknyeon? What are you doing here? Don’t we have Transfiguration right now?” You loudly whispered as you approached him only to drag him towards the end where you were hidden from Snape’s office door. Once you were hiding behind the pillar, you turned to peek past the wall with Haknyeon right in front of you.

The hallway was empty thanks to the classes going on currently but that doesn’t mean you were free from not being caught out of class.

“I told Professor McGonagall I’m having stomach aches so she excused me to go to the hospital wing.” Haknyeon explained, only for you to frown.

“And why were you waiting outside Snape’s office, might I ask?”

“To see you.”

“You couldn’t wait till I come to class?” You asked with a slight tease in your voice.

“Needed to see you right after detention, so that I could do this.”

With that being said, he easily captures you into a kiss. You sighed through your nose as you cupped his neck to pull him closer to you. Haknyeon wraps his arms around your waist, letting himself trap you against the wall and his body. You changed your head positions to be at a slightly more comfortable state, feeling him squeeze your sides.

Just then, he pulled away for a breath, making it easy for you to slip in the question.

“All those notes were from you, weren’t they?”

Haknyeon grew quiet for a moment but then decided to just come clean with you. After all, that’s what he has been wanting to do anyway.

“Are you disappointed?”

“I would be if you told me this 4 weeks ago… But now? Not so much.” You smiled.

“Really?” He asked.

“Would I do this if I was disappointed?” You asked only to kiss him again. Haknyeon smirks against your lips as you feel him lift you up and spin you around. When he placed you back down, he gave you a peck on the lips and soon spoke up.

“Should I stop giving you notes then?”

“Go ahead. Cause I’ve already won the prize.”

“You sure have.”

~~~

#the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz juhaknyeon #the boyz fluff #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz juhaknyeon #ju haknyeon scenarios #haknyeon fluff #tbz x reader #haknyeon x reader #tbz hogwarts #the boyz hogwarts au #hogwarts au

[anarmel]

six of crows gang my beloved

what is fanart without me complaining about a thing i like

as a person who read SoC duology a long time ago, my SoC only related thoughts

-did they make Jesper gay and not bi?do not support that decision. that scene in a stable was kinda unnecessary (but i’m not a big fan of those kinda scenes in general) and felt like they just wanted something gay in this season and sort of a nod that they didn’t forget Jesper’s attraction to men but in process of that forgot that he’s bi. i think he should’ve had flirtatious interactions with everyone(he flirty).especially that we know that his main love interest is a man and his light crush on Kaz he should’ve flirted with a woman in this season. and i know that bi people are not obligated to date several people of all gender spectrum to know or like affirm that they’re bi but that’s in real life and SaB is a piece of media that communicates through visuals and limited dialogue and not a book where you have access to mention it in characters thoughts soo....yeah....not invisible bi representation where?and Nina is taken with her romance with Matthias already

-Nina(my beloved) and Matthias...yeah that’s the start of their story

-i liked “more soft” Kaz he felt less like an archetype of a character that he is(a traumatised bad boy who doesn’t care for anything or anyone but will eventually be “fixed” by love for a girl). book version of him works because we have his inner thoughts and machinations if he was on screen like he was in a book it just wouldn’t work as well he needs to emote and show a little bit of feelings that he experiences to work in a given medium and to not be a brick character on screen

-and Inej, my girl, my beloved . i don’t think she would sass tante Heleen while still being under a contract. i don’t understand why they took out her having panic attacks near the menagerie, and she refused Jesper’s backup(girlboss of her to do that but not being alone in that place is beneficial for mental stability !buddy system!). maybe because she is in that situation where she is still under indenture and she didn’t feel real relief and still is to take her first breath as a free person so she doesn’t feel constant fear of being robed of her freedom by the same place again? idk maaan...maybe i’m wrong but that’s jus how i feel. she is the strongest character in the series but that doesn’t mean she should be “strong” in every situation she is still a human who was treated so terribly by so many people and the menagerie represents it. ooof. in a book her strengths and weaknesses were established so well. i appreciated her fangirling for Alina though and that they didn’t brake her character in that way.her beliefs are still intact and she is apprehensive about kidnapping a saint. nice. love her

as a viewer of Shadow and Bone content without a book base but with basic knowledge of the universe and characters:

-(speaking as a slavic person in predominantly slavic society) didn’t like Zoya’s racist comment towards Alina like at all. like she is asian herself different part bur still. and i felt like her problem with Alina wasn’t race related then why throw that in? if my rival was poc i wouldn’t throw a slur at them and go a racist rout because that will not who i am(and i’m not that lazy at insulting/j) and it’s not even a part of my problem with them, i would go for something more personal and connected to the root of the problem to be a full bitter bitch. like Zoya feels useless and like she’s being replaced (right?) she could’ve commented how useless Alina is, how she can’t be strong by herself without help of darkling to reflect her own insecurities on Alina? why drag race into that problem? why? i know they had asian writers working on the script and in my opinion they did a good job at war era racist propaganda and how it ostracised Alina in society but making Zoya on a personal level a racist was kinda dumb. she’s a bitch but not a bigot

-i’m afraid of saying my thoughts on darkling/alina/mal situation because that part of the fandom really scares me. and that was not really my interest in this show

-not enough Genya(i really like her character)

as a person who was born in russia and will die in russia(not by choice) my russia related thoughts:

(i know that it’s only inspired and not based on imperial russia but i wanna nitpick and bitch about things)

-for imperial russia not lavish enough(yeah budget and stuff but it’s true) those bitches only knew how to burn gold on luxuries and wars

-Alina’s last name is Starkov. so in russian usually last names that end in -ov/-ova -ev/-eva are gendered her version is “male”. i don’t care for gendered stuff but in russian every word is that way. as a gender abolitionist i don’t care as a russian speaker kinda not right but eh. i(nb) go by my -ova last name because it flows with my name better like Alina Starkova i kinda like how it has an A at the beginning and on the end. Alina Starkov is still a cool name because fuck grammatically correct things

-i don’t understand why they decided to call uniforms kefta and not kaftan, kefta sounds more like kofta(casual shirt) and kaftan is a real thing and a nicer word in my opinion(and isn’t kefta a dish? but then again we have a dish named “herring under a fur coat”)

-do not understand the name of an episode “otkazat’sya” it means “to refuse” as in like a verb, kinda weird, “otkaz”(refusal) would suit more as a name because it’s a noun and less confusing and a cooler looking word. it just doesn’t work in russian and was kinda jarring to see it. and didn’t they call a food taster an “otkazat’sya” like huh??? he would be just a low ranked “pridvornyy”(courtier) or a “sluga”(servant) or if you want a fancier word it would be “mundschenk”(world of german origin used in imperial russia under Peter the First) but they were only for vine and drink tasting

-there is like three words in russian and pronunciation is funny. o to pronounce ц like ц and not like ts. there is no need to be soft

-and it’s so funny that magic users called Grisha it’s just a slavic name Grigori in short form. imagine a world where magic users are all called like Josh in all seriousness

-(did they have at least one russian speaking person to consult on language usage or pronunciations?they merged two books together couldn’t they change some words to more correct ones?)

-so mad that they killed of my main man Ivan he was THE russian representation of that show. such a single minded serious bitch. i connected to him so much (i love me some unimportant background characters) and that goth bitch(darkling) lives on. i only can be satisfied if one of those shadow monsters is Ivan(i only jest...unless?....)

general:

-found family is top tier, love triangles are in hell(not fun kind) but that’s my general hiccup with this franchise (it has so much potential but choses to focus heavily on romance, like romance is good and great and all that but friendship is magic)

-in conclusion i really liked the story as a separate being and it’s one of the better book to screen adaptations i’ve seen but it’s not without flaws

-i’m always critical of things that i love. it’s my passion to scrutinise and see flaws. i am but a miserable being

🖤only my personal opinions and feelings,hope you enjoyed my art despite my tirades🖤

#grishaverse #six of crows #shadow and bone #soc fanart #art #my art #souring my art with my thoughts #blue eyed white boys on top( #why wylan has blue eyes leigh why not brown-amber #brown eyes are so much better #aaaaa

[lxngbottom]

More mute fic pls omg

Mute | N.L (Part 2)

in which the reader doesn’t talk, and neville is still trying to change that.

warnings: some angst, bullying, swearing (let me know if there are more!)

word count: 2,877

i wasn’t planning on making a part 2 to this but you ask i deliver!! but, maybe a part 3 as well if i feel like the story isn’t finished!

PART 1 HERE!

—

since that day in the library, neville longbottom could not seem to get y/n off of his mind. she ran through it like a marathon, but neville enjoyed every second of it. he couldn’t seem to forget the little giggle that left your lips on that day, or the way you uttered that “goodnight” to him.

he came to visit her quite a few times in the library after that. he wouldn’t go everyday unlike her, due to the fact he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. he liked spending time with you, even if the conversations were one sided. but, he couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room...

she still had yet to say anything else.

so when today came, he was prepared to get some progress. he felt some sort of guilt due to the fact he would never want to make her feel like you were some sort of experiment to him, or to anyone else. he just hated seeing her so lonely.

the great hall rung out with the sound of chattering and gossip as breakfast continued. neville found himself searching for y/n, as she hadn’t shown up yet. but, when she finally walked in with two books grasped into her hand, a bright smile formed onto the boy’s face.

“what are you so cheery about, longbottom?” seamus asked with a raised eyebrow. but it didn’t take him long to realize what his herbology loving friend was so happy about. because he looked over at where neville was staring, and he connected the dots. “merlin’s beard... you fancy mute!”

dean and him chuckled at the thought,

“what?! no i don’t! and... don’t call her that.” neville clapped back, finally ripping his eyes away from y/n.

“oh, it’s alright, longbottom. we’re just messing with you. but seriously, if you fancy her, why don’t you ask her out?” dean asked, hitting seamus on the shoulder.

neville shrugged, “she won’t talk.”

seamus rolled his eyes, “well, no shit.”

the three boys looked over at her, and her nose was dug into the same herbology book she had checked out a week ago. the look on her face would confirm that she seemed content with how the day was going so far.

but, of course, the slytherins had to change that.

as y/n was reading up on the finer details of a water plant, she felt something hit the back of her head. neville quickly looked over, and saw malfoy and his goons laughing like a pack of wild dogs. he looked over to y/n once more, and saw her staring at the piece of toast that had settled on landing on the floor.

she sighed, but decided to ignore it.

“hey, mute!” malfoy called out for her, another piece of toast in hand. y/n looked behind her, locking eyes with the white haired boy. “think fast!”

he threw another piece, this time right on her face. and sure enough, it was covered in butter and jam. it hit right on her cheek, and it stuck for a moment before sliding off onto her jumper.

for once, the expression on her face leaked pure anger. she whipped her head around once more, and her mouth fell open for one single moment to speak. it seemed as if the whole slytherin table went quiet for a moment, just waiting for her to say something. anything.

neville as well sat, staring intently at her. he just wanted to her stand up for herself, at least once.

but, as the words attempted to crawl their way out of her, they went right back down. she couldn’t muster up the strength to say anything,

“got something to say, mute?” draco teased, flashing a grin at her, “oh, wait. i forgot. you can’t talk!”

his friends all chuckled at malfoy’s stupid joke, and y/n simply collected her things, and dashed out of the great hall.

neville sighed, his fist clenched from aggravation.

“maybe... some speech therapy would work?” dean suggested suddenly, and neville shook his head.

—

care for magical creatures was never something that neville found interesting, but he enjoyed walking out into nature with his friends, hearing hagrid ramble on about dragons and how there living environments are.

“this ere’ creature is a classic, but an ol’ favorite of mine. i’m sure yer’ all familiar with it,” hagrid spoke excitedly, walking over to a random tree bush.

all of the students watched intently as he bent down, and grabbed the unknown creature from the bush. y/n seemed just as intrigued as anyone else did. and neville couldn’t help but smile at the way you got on your tippy toes to see what creature hagrid had in store for everyone today.

“he’s er’ a bit hungry today. but, that’s why you all are ere’ i pose’,” hagrid explained, and finally, he pulled out the mystery creature hiding behind the bush. the students let out a mantra of “awww’s” as hagrid carried a niffler in his hand. he walked up closer to everyone, showing the creature off a little.

“nifflers don’t really ever bite. unless, of course’, you makin’ him angry!”

y/n stared at the creature intently, and focused on writing down the physical details. what color it was, what shape it was. she would never admit it, but she absolutely loved care for magical creatures. it was one of her favorite classes, as she loved learning about the cutest creatures and how they lived their lives.

“he’s cute, isn’t he?” y/n heard from right beside her. she looked over and saw neville longbottom, smiling lightly at her. “were we supposed to take notes? oh dear...”

y/n quickly shook her head at his worry, and closed her notebook. she could do research on nifflers at some other time.

neville and y/n stood beside each other, listening to hagrid’s lesson. neville would glance over at her, just to remind himself of how she looked. her face was morphed into a focused one, and she bit the inside of her lip. he couldn’t help to notice her side profile, and how perfectly constructed the girl seemed to be.

“right’, who wants to feed him?” hagrid asked the large group of students, and all of them automatically shot their hands up in the air, wanting nothing more to pet the niffler.

y/n wanted to, she wanted to do bad, but, she couldn’t raise her hand. she didn’t have the courage to. neville noticed that it was killing her to not be one of the kids to raise their hand, and he could tell that she genuinely wanted to feed the niffler.

hagrid skimmed through the students, pondering on who he should pick. but out of all of the students, he noticed one who didn’t in fact have her hand raised. but, looked quite interested.

“miss y/l/n, is it? come on ver’ ere’!”

y/n’s eyes widened, and everyone looked at her. they all huffed and rolled their eyes as she slowly approached hagrid. neville of course, had the goofiest smile laid upon his round face. he was happy that she got picked, even if she didn’t raise her hand for it.

“ere’, hold him for just one moment,” hagrid requested, passing the niffler over to y/n. when she obtained it, she smiled softly.

the niffler seemed to take notice to the girl’s feature, and he nibbled at the ends of her hair as hagrid grabbed the food. “aye! what i’d tell ye’ about nibblin’ on young ladies hair?! it’s not nice!”

y/n giggled at hagrid’s “parenting”, and pet the niffler on the top of the head. some students seemed to be shocked that she let out a small laugh such as that one, but neville was in bliss.

“right’, jus’ take a piece...” hagird began, reaching into the bag of food, “and just put it by its beak!”

hagrid did so, and the niffler almost chomped on his fingers from how hungry he was. hagrid let out a chuckle, as well as y/n as the hungry niffler chewed on its food. “yer’ turn, miss?”

and y/n repeated the same thing. she smiled as the niffler made small noises, and reached for more food. “one more!” hagrid barked, and popped the piece of food right into it’s mouth.

hagrid began to explain the finer details of nifflers, and what they really were. y/n held the niffler patiently, playing with it a little as hagrid kept on with today’s lesson.

“see, somethin’ else they love is for a wizard er’ witch to speak to em’. they can be quite the talkative creature,”

y/n’s eyes went wide from the giant’s statement, and she started to hope & pray that hagrid’s next choice of words weren’t going to be what she thought they might be.

but, her hopes were faltered;

“go on! tell em’ yer’ name!”

neville stared, knowing what was probably coming next. he could tell from the drop in her face that she was anxious,

“don’t be scared, now! go on!”

y/n looked the niffler in the eyes, and it looked like it was waiting, just like everyone else was. she needed to say something, just anything.

“um...” she muttered, and some of the student’s jaws dropped from just hearing that.

“she can’t talk!” a voice rung out through the trees, and y/n looked over to see pansy parkinson smirking with malfoy. “yeah, she doesn’t know how to speak!” draco added, him and his friends giggling.

other students began to join in on laughing, and yelling about how quiet she was, even some calling her by her infamous nickname... mute.

y/n looked away, and quickly put the niffler back into hagrid’s arms. she stormed over to her things, and collected them quickly.

“where are you going?” neville whispered over to her, trying his best to make her stay. “these people don’t matter, y/n. just stay.”

she looked up at him, and his heart shattered from what he saw. tears filled her eyes, and her lip quivered. she threw her bag over her shoulder, grabbed her textbook, and ran away from the large group of students.

the students laughed at her as she did so, and more vile things about her left the mouths of draco and his friends.

“aye!” hagrid yelled, and the students fell silent. “ten house points takin away from all of ya’s’! we never treat our fellow students like that!”

the students groaned and attempted to protest, but hagrid simply wasn’t having any of it.

“class dismissed! and i’ll be sure’ to let all ye’s heads know bout’ the way yer’ all acted today!”

as students collected their things and left in small groups, chatter of y/n escaped their lips, and not in a very kind way, either.

“ten house points from all of us?! this has got to be some kind of sick joke!” seamus complained, “we didn’t even say anything about the girl!”

neville scoffed and rolled his eyes, “but, you laughed. that’s the issue.”

seamus furrowed his eyebrows, “don’t tell me you’re angry at me because i laughed? if something is funny, i laugh! i’m allowed to laugh, longbottom!”

neville didn’t have time to argue with seamus, he needed to go and find y/n. just to make sure she was alright.

—

tears fell quickly from her face, hitting the book pages as she tried to read. she sniffled, trying to get them to go away.

after her embarrassment, y/n had escaped to the library. where she was sure she would be safe, but was proven wrong when students from that same class found her, and began to harass her, and threaten her due to the fact everyone had lost points for their house.

y/n sat alone, like always. crying to herself, wondering what was wrong with her. why couldn’t she just speak? why couldn’t she be like everyone else and have a normal conversation with others? what was she so weird?

as her thoughts took over her, she didn’t notice neville longbottom approaching the same table they both shared. he frowned when he heard the small cries leave her lips,

“y/n?”

the soft voice made y/n look up, and she quickly wiped her tears away. he pulled out the same chair he had been sitting in for the past two weeks, and sat down slowly.

“are you alright? i’ve been looking for you for the past hour,” he stated, a flash of worry showing in his eyes. “i should’ve known that you’d be here. but, you know me... i forget almost everything.”

as neville made his way to the library, he thought about every way possible to get y/n to speak. and the constant rambling and questions obviously weren’t working, so maybe, instead of forcing to her to speak, maybe he could try to relate to her. make her feel comfortable and safe enough to talk around him.

“you know... malfoy has always given me a hard time, too. him and all of his friends. they’re really mean.” he informed her, still looking into her eyes. “but, one day, i finally stood up for myself. and, they haven’t necessarily... left me alone or anything, but they’re a bit less cruel, you know?”

y/n simply just stared at him blankly, having only a small hint at what he was talking about. “he used to throw toast at me during breakfast. it was immature, but... it still hurt me feelings.”

y/n didn’t know that malfoy treated her the same way he had always treated neville. she felt bad for him, as she knew exactly how it felt to be a victim of malfoy’s torture.

“but, when i stood up to him... merlin, i’ll never forget it. i felt like i could... spit fire or something! it was honestly one of the greatest feelings that i’ve ever had! i felt unstoppable!”

neville was waving his hands, going on this small tangent about when he stood up to malfoy. y/n admired his courage, and the way he talked to excitedly about it.

“all i’m saying is... is that maybe, one day, you should stick up for yourself. i would do it for you... but i don’t think that it would make it any better for you or for me. so... just maybe—“

he was cut off by how quickly she was shaking her head,

“you don’t have to do it today, or tomorrow, or even next week! just, at some point, you know? i promise you’ll feel better if you do it!”

but, she shook her head once more. neville sighed, already feeling defeated.

there was a few moments of silence before neville spoke up once more:

“why don’t you speak, y/n?”

y/n frowned, the question that she hated the most being asked.

“doesn’t anyone ever ask you why? or, you know... try to get to know you at least?”

she shook her head sadly, and her eyes wandered back onto the page of her book,

“well... i really like hanging out with you. and, i want to know all of your interests and stuff. you seem really cool, and... i want to get to know you better.”

y/n thought for a moment, her instincts taking over her. normally when someone said things like this, she would rush out of the room, not even giving them a chance to say further more. but, neville was different. he didn’t seem to have any bad intentions, he just seemed... intrigued.

“why?”

neville thought for a moment that his ears were deceiving him, but when he looked over at y/n once more, he figured out that she was waiting for a response.

it took him a moment to collect his thoughts before he answered, “uh, well... i know how it feels to be the quiet kid. and, most of the time... i’m alone. i just don’t like seeing—others alone, i suppose. it hurts me.”

y/n looked up at him, “but... you have friends.”

neville felt giddy on the inside. finally, he had got her to say more that one single word. even though it wasn’t under the best circumstances, neville was proud of her.

“well, yeah. but... they have friends as well. and, we don’t really share the same interests. in fact, my friends laugh when i talk about herbology. they’re great and all, but... i don’t know. i just wish i had someone to talk to about things like that.”

there was a few more beats of silence, and neville really hoped that he hadn’t said something that made her shut down again.

“um...” she started, “i—i like herbology.”

the small sadness that had taken over neville instantly faded, and he smiled at the girl’s words.

“really?”

she smiled at him, her problems seemingly leaving her body. she nodded her head, “and... care for magical creatures.”

neville could practically feel his heart about to burst from his chest.

“that’s... nice. i’ve never been much into it, but, i would love to know more about it.”

to everyone else in hogwarts, y/n was known as mute. she never spoke, and when she did, it was only a single word. but neville, he saw so much more than that. he saw a girl with a great personality, a beautiful mind.

and, he couldn’t wait to get to know her.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom smut #neville x reader

[thenewlarislynn]

Make Me

Pairing: Spot Conlon x Reader

Request:  Can I get a Spot Conlon x reader with #3 and #21 from the first prompt list please? If it’s not any trouble Prompts: “Who do you think you are? The Queen of England?” and “I’m (First Name) fucking (Last Name)”

Word Count: Approx. 1.6k

TW: mentions of blood, knives

~~~

The morning bell sounded, waking you from your dreams. “Damn that Kelly,” you muttered. He didn’t even have the courtesy to wake you up to get your papers on time. To be fair, he had been waking you up everyday that week and he threatened to stop if you didn’t get more sleep. You didn’t actually expect him to make good on that promise, though. 

With a sigh, you decided that if you rushed, you could make it to Weasel’s in time to grab some papes. You just had to hope all your regulars hadn’t gone to someone else already. After getting dressed quickly, you began to head out the door of the lodging house. Unfortunately, you weren’t watching where you were going and smacked straight into someone.

That really ticked you off. “Hey, watch where youse is walking,” you snapped, “some of us got places to be.”

The boy rolled his eyes, “Who d’ya think you are? The Queen of England?” 

“No, even better.” you said cooly before introducing yourself.

He crossed his arms, unfazed. “Where’s Kelly, I’ve got a message for him.”

“Do I look like I knows where Kelly is? Not my job to look after him.” When he sighed, clearly annoyed, you relented a bit. “You can wait for him or pass the message along to me. I’ll make sure he gets it.” 

“Jus’ tell him that I need to see him. We need to talk about the terms of selling on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

You nodded, “And you are?”

He blinked in surprise, taken aback. Clearly no one ever had the audacity to ask him before. “Ya seriously don’t know me?”

You shook your head, confused. It wasn’t as if you could be expected to memorize everyone’s name. “Sorry, no.”

“I’m Spot fucking Conlon,” he said, his confusion evident in his tone. “The King of Brooklyn? Is any of that ringin’ a bell?”

You felt a chill go down your spine. So this was the famous Spot Conlon, and you just insulted him to his face. Nice one. You’d be lucky if you didn’t get soaked right now. You decided an apology was the way to go in this situation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-.”

He cut you off. “Youse didn’t know? Clearly. Jus’ don’t forget it again, got it?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling self conscious. “Next time I see Jack I’ll give him your message,” you stated quickly. “I’d best be off, I don’t want to be the last one out sellin’.” With that you were off, Once you thought you were far enough away, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

It wasn’t often that you became flustered so easily, but there was something about him that made you feel nervous. You walked up to Weasel’s counter, still seeing a few papes left. “I’ll take twenty papes,” you said to Oscar.

“What’s the magic word?” he questioned.

Pretending to ponder it for a moment, you grinned. “I’m not sure, how about ‘screw off’?” Placing down your coin, you grabbed your stack of papers. Walking about you shook your head. “Magic word,” you chuckled to yourself, “what an idiot.”

Hearing someone call your name, you turned back around. “Watch your back,” Oscar threatened, “the others won’t always be around to protect ya’.”

You rolled your eyes. Once again, a Delancey was making an empty threat. “Sure Oscar, I’m real scared.” Turning, you walked out the gate and into the square. It wasn’t as crowded as usual and you felt a tug of panic.

If you couldn’t sell all your papes today you may not be able to stay at the lodging house for much longer. The city streets were dangerous enough at night, and for a girl it was twice as treacherous. 

Taking a quick look at the headline you began to feel hopeful. It was a good one today, thank the Heavens. “Vice President Hobart dead! Power crisis looms!”

It didn’t take long for more than half of your papers to sell. You grinned to yourself, it wouldn't be too hard to finish selling and head home early. Well, as soon as you found Kelly and gave him Spot’s message.

As afternoon rolled around, clouds began to cover the sun. You sighed, praying it wouldn’t rain, or worse, snow. Finally, you sold your last paper, at a higher rate than usual, since you were one of the last newsies still out. Clutching your money, you breathed a sigh of relief. You thankfully had enough to stay at the lodging house for the time being

It was starting to get dark, but you decided to try and find Jack before heading back to the house. He never returned early when it could be avoided, instead wandering the streets coming up with new selling angles.

You began to walk towards the theatre. Even if Jack wasn’t there, Medda may have seen him. A few streets away from the play house, you heard someone call your name. You looked around, but couldn’t see anymore. Shrugging it off as exhaustion, you kept walking. It was only after you heard it again that you stopped. 

“Who’s there?” You pulled a small pocket knife out of your bag, hoping any potential attacker would see it and back off. 

Two figures stepped forward from a nearby darkened alleyway. Oscar and Morris Delancey. You quickly recalled Oscar’s statement that morning and felt your heart sink in fear. It seems he was right after all. 

“I heard youse was disrespecting my brother,” Morris said, “and ya’ see, I can’t allow that.”

Deciding to not wallow in fear, you put up a brave front. “Would you rather I’s insult you, Morris? I’m sure I could come up with somethin’.”

He took a step forward, “Why you little…” Morris swung his fist forward and you ducked down, narrowly missing the shot. In your haste do so, however, you ended up dropping your knife. Oscar shoved you backwards, and you stumbled.

“Shit,” you muttered. You felt your back hit a wall, and you knew you were cornered. A sharp pain shot through your shoulder and you used all your strength to not cry out in pain. This would be the worst moment to show weakness. With a quick motion, you brought your heel down on Morris’ foot. He staggered backward and you moved away from the wall. 

As soon as you did, you saw a stone fly through the air, hitting Morris on the forehead. Leaning against the wall, he cussed under his breath. You risked a quick look around, trying to find who it was that saved you. In that moment, Oscar saw his chance.

“You’ll pay for this,” he growled, moving towards you. 

“No, she won’t,” you heard a voice say. From out of the shadows came the person you least expected to see. Spot Conlon stood between you and Oscar. “Youse really want to go through with this fight?” he asked with a smirk.

“Now youse both going to pay for this,” he spat. In one fluid motion, he grabbed your knife off the ground. Oscar lunged forward, swinging the blade wildly. It made contact with Spot’s arm and he cussed. Oscar laughed and stepped back. “Told ‘ya.” He tried to attack again, but before he could Spot blocked him, grabbing his arm and twisting it back. 

Oscar dropped the knife, and it clattered to the ground. Using his other arm, Spot swung his fist, making contact with Oscar’s face. “Now you and your brother here are going to leave and never bother this girl again. Got it?” 

Oscar nodded weakly before taking off. Morris, still recovering from the stone, slowly limped after his brother. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, once the Delancey’s were out of sight. 

“I had to do somethin’,” Spot replied modestly. Your gaze shifted to the cut on his arm, and you gasped. It was worse than you thought. 

“I can help with your arm,” you said hesitantly, “if you want.” He nodded in response, leaning against the alley wall. Pulling a small roll of bandages out of your bag, you knelt next to him. “It may sting a little,” you warned.

Spot winced as you began bandaging his arm. “Why were they even after ya’ in the first place?”

“I may’ve talked back to them this morning,” you answered, thinking back to the incident.

“Is that a habit of yours? Because you seem t’be quite good at it.”

“Real funny,” you said rolling your eyes. You finished wrapping the bandage. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“It would be better if I didn’t just get stabbed,” he said with a wry laugh.

“To be fair, it was your decision to join the fight,” you replied jokingly. 

“Well, to be completely fair, I wouldn’t have made that decision if I hadn’t seen ya’ get hurt.”

“To be truly fair,” you countered, “I was only here to find Kelly to give him your message.” 

A look of guilt flashed briefly across his face, but he quickly hid it. “Shut up,” he said with a chuckle.

You smirked. “Make me.” Not even a second later his lips were on yours. After the initial shock, you kissed back. He tangled his fingers in your hair and you smiled into the kiss. 

When you finally broke apart, you felt breathless. “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you this morning,” he whispered. “But I also wanted to ask, would you,” he paused, “would you want to go out with me sometime?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes, yes I would.” With that, he pulled you back in for another soft kiss. 

~~~

Requested By: @teddy06

Spot deserves so much more appreciation I swear. Let me know if you want ot be added to my taglist and as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all! <3

#spot conlon x reader #spot conlon x you #spot conlon x y/n #spot conlon #king of brooklyn #92sies #92sies spot #newsies #spot conlon fic #sean patrick conlon #newsies x reader #newsies fic #spot conlon imagine #newsies imagine #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #newsies live #newsie!reader #newsies movie #newsies 2017 #oscar delancey #morris delancey #the delancey brothers #jack kelly x reader #racetrack x reader #reader insert #my writing #spot conlon drabble #newsies drabble #92sies fic

[vesuvian-american-fics]

Drunken Confessions

You, Muriel celebrate Julian's birthday! Of course, some one gets a little too drunk and says "I Love You" for the first time. (It’s been a while since I wrote for JulianxApprenticexMuriel)

(AO3)

Words: 1,096

“Happy birthday!” You shout to Julian as he enters the magic shop.  

“Happy birthday.” Muriel states more calmly, the two of you greeting the doctor at the door, encircling the blushing man in a warm embrace.  

“W-what is all this?” The auburn-haired man asked, stuttering over his words. He wasn’t truly expecting any surprise after his long day at work. He was feeling quite exhausted but when the two of you told him to meet at the shop after work, he never imagined he’d be met by all of his friends.  

There stood Asra, Pasha, Mazelinka, Nadia, and Nazali. All surrounded by a small circular cake, Julian’s favorite flavor.  

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday!” Pasha said, punching Julian’s arm playfully making him wince in pain but laugh nevertheless. You Head off towards the table to cut the cake into equal pieces for everyone to enjoy, Muriel guiding Julian to sit at the table. Julian’s grey eyes became misty as he fought back tears.  

“You didn’t have to do all of this!” He said, sniffling as he wiped his unshed tears, making you and Asra giggle.  

“Yes, we did.” Muriel said, as he gave Julian as warm smile and a reassuring rub on his shoulder. Julian’s sleepy eyes welled up with a new wave of tears as he thanked you all for the cake and happily enjoyed his time with you all.  

After cleaning up and waving everyone good bye Asra shooed the three of you out. You all intended to spend the night in Muriel’s hut but Julian was overcome with a wave of energy.

“Let’s go for a few drinks! I’m itching for a salty bitter.” Julian dramatically pulled his large overcoat onto his broad shoulders smiling back at the confused looks on you and Muriel’s faces.

“Is it salty?” Muriel asked, following behind Julian.

“Yes!” He replied excitedly.

“Is it bitter?” You asked, slightly concerned about the contents of this drink.

“Extremely!” Julian wrapped his slender arms around the both of you as you set off towards the South End for drinks at his favorite pub.

By the time the three of you set foot into the bar, the night crowd was in full swing. This kind of turned Muriel off to the idea of drinking, but for Julian and his birthday, the hermit would persevere. He stalked off towards an empty booth in the back while Julian ordered the drinks and caught up with the barkeep.

Julian sat next to Muriel, hoping to make him feel a little more comfortable and Muriel greatly appreciated the sentiment. The rest of the night was spent with the three of your drinking and laughing together. Muriel, being as responsible as he is stopped drinking much earlier than you and Julian.  

“Alright. Time to go.” Muriel stated as he stood from his seat at the booth. Julian was off helping some regulars cheat in their game of cards and you had fallen asleep at the table. Muriel gently nudged you to wakefulness and wiped the drool from your cheek. As Julian noticed the two of you rising from the table, he clumsily made his way to the bar to pay his tab and bid his new friends goodbye, not that he’ll remember them in the morning.  

You leaned on Muriel, you were unsure on your feet but doing better than Julian, as he could hardly stay upright. Muriel sighed before he picky Julian up and carrying him. He sighed at the prospect of carrying Julian all the way through Vesuvia and out the gate on the opposite end of town only to continue carrying him through the forest and to his hut. Without a doubt it would be taxing on his back, and taking more time than he was comfortable with wasting.  

Muriel stood awkwardly in the middle of the alley as he mentally prepared for the journey, only to be pulled from his thought by a gloved hand coming to roughly caress his chiseled jaw.  

“My house~♥” Julian slurred his words. Muriel cocked one of his brows at his lover, as you slumped onto his muscular arm sleepily smiled at Julian.  

“Ju... Where’s your house at?” You hiccupped as you waited patiently for his directions. Muriel figured it was better than the hours it may take to get all the way to the forest in the dead of night, and he was curious to see Julian’s home.  

“Uhhhh.... LEFT!” Julian shouted, as he pointed to the right. Muriel shook Julian a bit before, he asked again which way to go. The directions were hard to follow but surely enough after about half an hour of walking, Julian hopped out of Muriel’s arms and pulled a key out of his overcoat, shoving it hastily into the lock on a door neither you or Muriel recognized.  

The two of you stood awkwardly as Julian shuffled inside, before following after him. Inside, the small apartment looked unlived in for the most part. Surprisingly everything was clean and neat. Not what you expected of Julian but you both remembered he usually would spend the night in his office or couch hopping with Portia or Mazelinka.  

Still, despite of it all, there were little details you noticed that showed this was unmistakably Julian’s home. The large collection of coffee mugs, unopened mail, black feather quill pens, Nevivon bath salts, it was homey and so Julian Devorak.  

Muriel was happy to find that you had sobered up quite a bit since leaving the Raven, the two of you together found Julian sprawled out on his large bed, fully clothed.  

You both blushed at the idea of undressing the man, Muriel handled the boots and you removed Julian’s coats. That was good enough for him, you both crawled into bed and cuddled on Julian, ready to sleep comfortably in his apartment. Julian pulled you both close and mumbled something incoherent.

“What was that?” You hummed, smiling to Muriel.  

“I love you.” Julian admitted in his drunken stupor, and moments later he was snoring lightly.  

Your eyes grew wide, and your gaze met Muriel. His face was red with a furious blush, as was yours. You opened your mouth a few times, looking for the words to reply but no noise came out. Julian was fast asleep, and probably hadn’t even realized what he said.  

You and Muriel decided to just forget this happened, and try to sleep. Both your hearts pounding, even drunk and half-asleep Julian managed to take you and Muriel’s breath away. Leaving you both an awkward blushing mess.

#julian x muriel #muriel x reader #julian x reader #julian x reader x muriel #muriel x reader x julian #julian devorak #muriel #the apprentice #apprentice #poly #ao3 #julian x apprentice x muriel

[tahitianmangoes]

Beg Me -Morbell

Pairing: Micah x Arthur  Summary:  Arthur knew there was only one way he was getting out of this cellar... Tags/triggers:Smut Word Count: 2122

Also on Ao3

Micah had only seen Dutch lose his cool twice before. The first time was in Blackwater and even then Micah wasn’t quite sure what had happened but the McCourt girl had ended up dead. The second time was tonight when Arthur hadn’t returned to camp when he should have.

Dutch had snapped at almost everyone in camp, demanding they found Arthur and found him quick if they wanted to keep their balls. 

They split up - Charles and John, Lenny and Sean, Bill and Javier and Micah alone. He didn’t mind going alone, he worked better that way. 

It didn’t take him long to pick up a trail and track Arthur down to what looked like a run down farm. Micah wasted no time dealing with the residents then called out for Arthur.

“Morgan? You here?” “I’m down here!”

Arthur’s voice floated up to him from a cellar that ran beneath the house that was entered by exterior doors. Micah descended the stairs into the small room which was dimly lit by a few scattered candles to see Arthur Morgan tied to a supporting column in the centre of the room. 

Arthur wore only his undergarments, form fitting long johns but his broad chest was bare. He looked like he had been beaten pretty badly, face bruised and lip bloodied. 

Dutch sent them on some search party like he was a lost little lamb and oh didn’t he look so innocent tied up like this?

“Mmm,” Micah purred, “well look at you, ain't you as pretty as a picture?” “Micah? Get me outta here!” Arthur called to him. “Hello old friend,” Micah said with a sneer, “had a good time did you?” Arthur’s head jerked up, recognising the words he had spoken to Micah when he had been incarcerated in the Strawberry jail. “Micah, this ain’t funny.” Arthur said warningly. “Oh I ain’t jokin’, cowpoke… Maybe not funny, no. Maybe a little ironic, I’m sure you would agree?”

Micah leaned back against the damp wall of the cellar and struck a match off of his boot, lighting a cigarette. He drank in the image of Arthur before him, had never had the chance to appreciate how fine his body was; statuesque in beauty, tender skin pulled taut over palpable muscles.

“Untie me now, Micah or I swear you’ll regret it!” Arthur growled, pulling at his restraints with futility.  “I might.” Micah replied as he exhaled smoke, a hint of a dark smirk teasing his lips, “But I want you to beg, Morgan.”  Arthur spluttered, “I ain’t beggin’ you for shit!” “That’s a shame. Marston and Smith went lookin’ elsewhere for ya, pretty sure Williamson and Escuella will be back at camp by now and Summer and Maguire, well, they couldn’t find a whore in a whorehouse… It’s jus’ me here. I’ll tell ‘em I turned the place over but there weren’t no sign of ya.” “You bastard!” Arthur hissed through gritted teeth, straining again. Micah chuckled. “I know.”

Micah smoked nonchalantly, exhaling deliberately as to cast a fog between the pair of them but he could still see the anguish on Arthur’s face while he weighed up the pros and cons of Micah’s proposition. 

“Fine.” He said eventually, “what do you want me to do?” Micah’s ice blue eyes flashed “Beg me.”

Arthur’s expression was mean, his sparkling blue-green eyes were narrowed and full of rage. “Please, untie me.” Arthur said bluntly. Micah’s chuckle bordered on maniacal, “that ain’t beggin’ Morgan. Beg doggy, beg!” “Screw you!” Arthur spat. Micah sighed and stubbed his cigarette out on the wall. “As you wish. I’ll tell ‘em I couldn’t find ya. I’m sure some hungry coyotes will get to you before anyone thinks to come lookin’ for you here.”

Micah turned to leave, ascending the steps of the cellar until he heard Arthur call out behind him. “Ok! Ok!” Micah didn’t turn around right away, he grinned to himself. He knew Arthur would do it. “Micah! Don’t leave me here! I’ll do whatever you want!” He turned slowly, savouring the expression of desperation etched on the younger outlaw’s pretty face. “You gonna play nice, Morgan?” “Yes.” “Good.”

Micah walked back to him smugly and stopped directly in front of him, eyes peering out beneath the brim of his cream hat, eating him up greedily as he licked his lips. 

“Untie me.” “You’re forgetting the magic word, Morgan.” “Untie me, please Micah.” “Now now, Arthur. That don't sound at all sincere to me." Micah said with a hint of mirth in his tone that didn’t go unmissed by Arthur.  Arthur rumbled. "Get me out of these goddamned ropes Micah or I swear I'll rip your throat out!" "Ah, ah, ah. That ain't nice now, is it? Thought you said you was gonna be a good boy for me, Arthur." 

Arthur swallowed hard, swallowing his pride. His cheeks burned scarlet as he said, "please Micah. I'm begging you. Untie me and get me outta here!"

Micah put his head to one side, as if contemplating for a moment. But he wasn't. He'd thought about this before…  Many times before. Arthur at his mercy. When would an opportunity like this come about again?

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't." "But I did what you wanted..!" Micah hummed thoughtfully. "You know, you ain't always been nice to me, Morgan. And I tried, I did, always tried my hardest to be nice to you." "What are you getting at?" Arthur asked suspiciously, shifting his weight as he stood uncomfortably. "Maybe it's time for you to be nice to me, Morgan." Arthur's bright eyes widened, as if he suddenly now understood what Micah wanted from him. Micah reached out and touched Arthur's cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle but the look on his face was devilish.

"On your knees, sweetheart."

Arthur made a strangled sound, somewhere between a curse and a laugh of disbelief as if hoping that this was one of Micah’s sick, twisted jokes. And maybe to a degree it was. But when Micah’s face didn’t change, Arthur knew there was only one way he was getting out of this cellar.

He had no choice but to sink down to the cold stone floor before Micah. 

Micah was hard already, had felt the bulge growing in his pants when he knew he had Arthur with his back against a wall. It was confusing, for sure. When he had first joined the gang he had thought that he and Arthur were similar - both sharp shooters, both men who provided and knew how to get a job done. Yet Arthur had a chip on his shoulder, a real big chip that Micah wanted to knock off. 

Arthur was a pompous ass in a way. Self righteous. Pig-headed. Maybe even dumber than he looked. They say that love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Micah didn’t know about that but he knew that for some reason, he kept being pulled back to Arthur - drawn to him so magnetically. He didn’t know what it meant but he knew it made him hard.

He wasted little time kneading his cock through his pants before unbuttoning and pulling it out. It was average, no bigger or smaller, thinner or girthier than anyone else’s but it got the job done. Right now, the skin was reddened and precum glistened at the slit.

Arthur wrinkled his nose instinctively, drawing away. 

“Come on now, Morgan. You said you’d do whatever I wanted and this is what I want from you.”

Arthur wet his lips before slowly taking Micah’s length into his mouth. Micah watched, a lazy smirk on his lips, at how Arthur had to adjust before he could comfortably begin to suck. There was nothing sensual or sexy about it from Arthur, he sucked as if it was a job that needed doing. 

Micah closed his eyes regardless, he was going to enjoy it for as long as it lasted. He savoured the warmth of Arthur’s mouth, the flat of his tongue on the underside of his dick and the gentle scrape of his teeth on Micah’s oh-so-sensitive skin. The sound of Arthur slurping and gagging sent shivers shooting down Micah’s spine and right the length of his cock.  

“There’s a good boy,” Micah purred. He laced his fingers in Arthur’s golden hair and pushed, forcing Arthur to take him deeper and deeper until he could feel the back of Arthur’s throat. Arthur let out a muffled cry and he bucked against the ropes that bound him but Micah kept his head steady until felt Arthur’s jaw relax as he figured how to breathe from his nose instead of his mouth. 

Micah thrust experimentally, keeping a firm hold of Arthur’s hair in his fist to prevent him from pulling away. He heard Arthur choke but didn’t let him come up for air. For the first time since Micah met him, he was able to silence him. 

He fucked Arthur’s face, the noises were obscene: squelching, gagging and gasping. Micah groaned at how easily Arthur seemed to take him despite the fight he put up, as if he had done this before... Arthur moaned too though Micah wasn’t sure if it was through pleasure.

When Micah looked down, he cursed. Drool pooled at the sides of Arthur’s mouth, dripping down the sides of his face. His sucking had turned sloppier and wet. Arthur had tears streaming from the corners of his glassy eyes and his face was flushed.

He looked up at Micah pleadingly.

Micah pulled out and Arthur gasped and panted. His restraints stopped him from falling forward but Micah could see he was tired. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. 

Micah took his hunting knife from his belt and finally cut Arthur loose. Arthur moaned softly as his arms were freed; Micah could see where the ropes had cut into him. 

Artur gazed up at Micah, seeming dazed. The smirk returned to Micah’s lips, now noticing Arthur’s straining erection leaking through the material of his undergarments.

Micah stroked his cock lazily, looking down at Arthur, “what’s wrong? You want more, doggy?”

Arthur’s cheeks flushed but he didn’t say no. Was he enjoying this too?

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?” Micah breathed, thumb tracing Arthur’s lips that glistened with saliva and Micah’s juices. 

“...Please Micah…” Arthur whimpered. 

He didn’t need Arthur to beg this time. Before he could consider what he was doing, he was on his knees behind Arthur, wrenching Arthur’s long johns down to reveal his ample behind. Micah let out a low growl, pulling Arthur’s ass cheeks apart and spitting directly onto his hole. Arthur shivered at the sensation of the saliva rolling down to his thighs. 

Micah traced Arthur’s entrance with the tip of his cock lightly, feeling how it resisted him  before pressing in properly. 

Both of them moaned this time, Micah sighed Arthur’s name at the feel of Arthur’s passage eating him up hungrily. His heat was intoxicating, he squeezed around Micah’s cock almost encouragingly. 

Micah began to move. The friction sent sparks of pleasure up and down Micah’s shaft, made the heat in the pit of his stomach start to rise and he fucked faster, pounding into Arthur, the skin of his pale ass starting to redden. 

Micah knew he wouldn’t last much longer but having Arthur on his hands and knees before him, gasping at each snap of his hips, biting back his moans and burying his head in his arms, ass up as if willing Micah to do what he wanted with him was the most erotic thing Micah had ever experienced. 

Micah saw Arthur stroking himself, felt him trembling with impending release, he contracted around Micah so tightly it made Micah’s hips stutter.

“Fuck Morgan, fuck!” Micah spat as he released, fingers digging into Arthur’s hips as to keep him in place so he could spill himself inside. 

He rested his forehead on the small of Arthur’s back, feeling him release too, the trembling coming to a crescendo and his legs shaking before he went limp beneath him. They stayed like that for a few moments. The sound of blood pumping in Micah’s ears was replaced with the evening outside.

Micah pulled out once he softened completely and got to his feet, buttoning his pants back up. Arthur stood too, albeit shakily, his skin still flushed and slicked with sweat and his own spend on his stomach. He found his clothes and satchel across the room and redressed sheepishly.

“Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to no one.” Arthur muttered before he made his way out of the cellar.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #micah bell x arthur morgan #morbell #micah bell #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x micah bell #red dead redemption 2 #fanfic #writing

[encassent]

young maiden. [ch 1]

cedric diggory x reader

[a/n: i’ve been procrastinating on school with this and it’s a real pain in the arse to have to catch up. do your homework kiddos.]

Cedric Diggory was fascinated with ghosts.

They could do anything they wanted, stay up as late as they wanted, and go anywhere they wanted. No rules applied to them. They didn’t get their house’s points deducted for accidentally falling asleep in class or accidentally forgetting to do assignments. They woudn’t get yelled at for wandering the hallways during class (he got lost! It’s a big castle!) and winding up in a sixth year Charms class.

When Cedric at age eleven first saw the ghosts at Hogwarts, he wrote a detailed letter explaining to his parents about how his backup career— if he didn’t become a famous Quidditch player, of course— was becoming a Hogwarts ghost and living at the castle for the rest of his ghostly life.

Unfortunately, neither one of his parents took it seriously.

His mother gently offered applying to the Ministry of Magic as a backup plan. His father said “If you, my boy, aren’t accepted by any Quidditch organization, it will be the day the sport dies.”

He tried to express his frustration about his parents’ reactions to his new friends, but they all just laughed at him. He then tried to talk to Professor Sprout about it and she considered scheduling an appointment the school counselor about it.

After that interaction during his first few weeks at Hogwarts, Cedric learnt that considering becoming a Hogwarts ghost (no matter if it was a backup for his backup plan) was not something a wizard or witch would consider a good aspiration.

I don’t want to die. Cedric wanted to say to everyone before they looked at him weird. I just want to be free. Independent.

***

“I’m having a bit of trouble with the actual... technical part of the spell, that’s all,” Cedric said. Wingardium leviosa was taught to him last week, but he still couldn’t quite get the hang of it yet.

“That’s jus’ fancy for I can’t do it please help me,” Elciel— the Hufflepuff Prefect who gave him a tour of the castle two weeks ago— shot him a knowing look.

“Yeah,” Cedric admitted. “I’ve been fine with the other charms, I just can’t get this one for some reason and—” He shrugged. “I thought you could help me? Because you’re a Prefect and everything?”

Elciel smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. I’m very busy right now, Diggory.” She gestured at the parchments and textbooks surrounding her.

Cedric’s face fell a little. Elciel must have noticed, because she put her hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

“However—” She leaned in a little, as if sharing a secret. “There’s someone who could help you out.”

Cedric perked up. “Who?”

Elciel took a look around the common room. Nobody else was paying attention. “A ghost,”

Cedric’s heart pounded with excietment in his chest. He’d get to talk to a ghost? A real ghost?

Elciel chuckled at the look on his face. “The teacher and adults call her Young Maiden ‘cause she died at seventeen, but she’ll respond to Maiden or Maid.”

“Where can I find her?” Cedric said giddly. He was ready to sprint to the very top of the Astronomy tower if he had to. Ghosts were just so cool.

“‘Round,” Elciel looked up, thinking about it. “She likes to hang out near the Great Hall, mostly. She’s also ‘round the Study Hall, the Quidditch pitch. ‘nd the Astronomy Tower. A very helpful ghost, she is.”

“Brilliant,” Cedric grinned. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Elciel tapped the side of her head with the end of her quill. “Say ‘ello to her for me, won’t you?”

“Sure!” Cedric called over his shoulder as he bolted out of the common room.

***

As one of the younger school ghosts, you stood out more than you older peers. You were also the currently the only ghost reading over a Muggle Studies report in the Study Hall.

“So these... pens really are just Muggle quills?” A small girl asked. “I thought they also used quills?”

“Your report’s right about that. They did use quills,” You shrugged “They just invented pens and liked them better.”

“Well, I like quills,” The girl showed off her white quill. “They look nicer.”

“That they do,” You laughed a little.

“I think I’ll be okay now, thank you Miss,” The girl nodded.

“It’s no problem. If you need help just yell for me,” You patted her head. Or, you tried to. Your hand simply passed through her head. You sighed a little and drifted away from the Study Hall into the corridor, planning on going to the Great Hall next.

“E-excuse me?” A boy’s voice called from behind you.

“Yes?” You turned around. The boy’s eyes grew to twice their size. His expression was a cross between terrified and intrigued.

“You— you’re the Maiden, correct?” He stammered. He stepped closer cautiously, like the way you’d approach a flock of birds without starting them.

You nodded.

“I heard from my friend Elciel that you can teach me?” The boy slowly pulled out his wand from his pocket. “I’m having trouble with wingardium leviosa.”

You smiled dreamily. “My favorite spell when I was in school,”

“So...” The boy looked up shyly at you. “You can help?”

“Sure,” You nodded at the end of the hallway behind him. “There’s an empty classroom over there, we can practice inside without bothering anyone.”

The boy’s face broke into a giant grin. “Brilliant,”

“Before we start, may I ask you your name?” You asked while drifting towards the door.

“Cedric. Cedric Diggory,” He stopped walking, sticking out his hand for a moment. He then frowned, dropping it back to his side. “S-sorry. I forgot about that.”

“No worries,” You hummed, letting him open the classroom door.

“And you are?” He asked.

“Me?” You raised your eyebrows. “Nobody’s asked my name in a while... I’m (F/N) (L/N),” You smiled at Cedric and phased into the classroom through the wall. Cedric grinned again, following you inside.

“Now the flying charm—” You looked around the room for random items. “should be practiced on a smaller item first.”

“Like this?” Cedric held up a ratty old Transfiguration textbook. It might’ve been from your time at the school.

“Looks good,”

“Now what?” Cedric asked after placing it onto the floor.

“Stand shoulder-width apart and focus,” You floated beside the boy. “You have to concentrate one hundred percent on doing a spell properly or else it won’t work. This will apply to every spell you do, not just this one.”

“Okay,” Cedric squinted his eyes shut and furrowed his thick eyebrows.

“Now, how exactly do you pronounce the spell?” You asked softly.

“Wingardium leviosa?” He asked, his eyes still shut.

“Close, it’s wingardium leviosa,” You said, emphasizing the a at the end. “Don’t enunciate the o, enunciate the a.”

“Got it,” He opened his eyes, focusing on the textbook like a laser pointer. “Wingardium leviosa!”

A weak shower of blue sparks trickled out of his wand and floated upwards lazily.

Cedric frowned. “That’s not how it was supposed to work.”

“Your wand motion was wrong,” You said. “You’re swishing your arm too much. Swish it like this—” You demonstrated. “And flick your wrist slightly. Swish and flick.”

“Like this?” Cedric mimicked your movements perfectly with his other hand.

“Beautiful,” You nodded.

“C-cool,” Cedric cleared his throat and turned back to the textbook, preforming the spell. The textbook only levitated for a couple of seconds, but it was a huge improvement compared to his previous attempt.

“Again,” You said.

“Again,” Cedric echoed, rolling up the sleeves of his uniform.

***

next part

[a/n: i grinned, then chuckled while adding the links to this chapter]

[taglist! @truly-insatiable @just-that-bi-girl and @adoregin <3 if you’d like to be added to the list, shoot me an ask or reply to any of my posts!]

#cedric diggory #goblet of fire #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x you #cedric x reader #cedric x you #cedric diggory oneshot #cedric diggory series #harry potter #harry potter oneshots #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #hufflepuff #encassent

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanofff x Reader : Thin Line

Summary: You’re wild and free. She’s strict and trained. You and Natasha are polar opposites and it drives her crazy. Each move you make annoys her to no end. But, there’s a thin line between annoyance and adoration.

Rating: 18+ Violence, Mentions of Death, and Smut

Side Note: This is the final chapter of Thin Line. Before you read I’d like to thank you so much for reading my fic and I’m assuming if you read this far you like it. Fee free to stick around for the many fics and imagines to come. Love You 3000❤️

Chapter 11

They had been flying for hours. Sam fell asleep, almost instantly, after he got on the jet. Wanda had fallen asleep an hour after Sam, her mind had been reeling far too much for her to settle at first.

Steve was piloting(technically the jet is in autopilot so he wasn’t) but that didn’t steal his air of authority. Bucky having just been left in Wakanda.

And Natasha.

The red head had firmly planted herself in a seat near the jets door an hour after boarding.

Steve spoke to her before then. He knows how much she loves you and had to make sure she was one hundred percent on board with leaving. She assured him she was.

While she still stands by that, her heart was seemingly screaming at her, aching at your absence and her decision to leave.

Those feelings is exactly why, for majority of the flight, she had been staring at a picture. The only picture she ever bothered to hold on to: one you had taken on your second date.

****Flashback****

“Natasha, babe, we fight lunatics and terrorists for a living, and you’re telling me you’re scared of a rollercoaster?” You stood beside her with a teasing grin, the large metal contraption in front of you.

She rolled her eyes and mushed your face,“ I’m not scared of anything. I just don’t want to get on.” Her eyes then skeptically watched passerby.

You, noticing that she was slipping into Widow mode, grabbed her hands and pulled her closer,“ what if we,” you stretched the word and looked around,“ go to the beach instead.”

She’s still hesitant. It’s not often that she subjects herself to being out in the open like this, but you had pouted and fucked her into giving in. Turns out your adorable face mixed with a mind blowing orgasm was the perfect kryptonite.

“Come on Natty,” you tried one more time,“ just for a couple minutes. I don’t want our date to end just yet.”

Once again, you pulled a pout, eyes softening just enough to make her groan and look away.

“Fine, fine,” before you could cheer she added,“ but only for a couple of minutes.”

“Perfect.”

The two of you had walked off Coney Island and down to the beach. You took her to, what looked like, the only secluded spot, and pulled her into your lap on the sand.

With the sun ending it’s appearance in the sky, stars scattered above you and pink and orange streams painted across the horizon.

“Picture time!” You exclaimed childishly, whipping your phone out, and holding it up.

“No.” Her quick response halted your actions.

Leaning back to look at her, you asked,“ do you not want to remember this moment?”

“I’ll remember.” She assured.

“But I might forget. This picture is for me!” You then smushed your lips on to her cheek and took the picture, but not before she could cover her face.

The stupid grin she pulled hidden by her hands.

****End Flashback****

Despite her not wanting to take the picture, she stole it from you the moment you had it printed off.

And now it sat in her hands, the top corners dogeared from her fidgeting.

She needs this picture, just in case. In case you don’t find her clues. In case you can’t crack her password and encryption. In case she never sees you again, intentionally or not.

She needs her memories of you.

“Romanoff!”

Her eyes linger on the picture, before she’s pocketing it, and going over to Steve.

“We’re ten minutes out, mind waking Sam and Wanda?”

Natasha simply nods and sets off to do just that. Her hand rests on Wanda’s shoulder, gently shaking the young witch.

“Maximoff, wake up.”

Wanda has never been much of a heavy sleeper so she wakes with that little effort, saying a small, sleepy, “alright” with a rub of her eyes.

Sam however doesn’t wake as easily. The gentle shaking just makes him mumble “five more minutes mom,” before drifting back off. Harsher shaking makes him groan and complain, rolling over to face the inside of the seats.

Natasha decides to just roll him off the chairs.

His body slams on to the floor and that just barely wakes him up. Still laying on the ground, he yawns and rubs his eyes with his fist.

“Wilson get up, we’re here.” Steve’s stern yet gentle voice says.

This has everyone moving to get the few things they did have.

Here is a safe house in Spain.

Steve had lifted a list of them from paper files at the compound, crossing referencing with the ones listed on the computer files. He narrowed it down to a few that could only be found on paper and took them.

It didn’t mean they were completely untraceable, but it would take a lot more than a look up to find them.

The small group walks through a span of woods were the jet is hidden, to the safe house. Before entering they survey the area.

Upon finding nothing, they go inside.

Feeling just the slightest bit safer, everyone slumps sigh exhaustion.

“We’ll move in the morning just in case someone managed to find us, but for now everyone rest up.” Steve’s voice rings over the small group with the same commanding tone he took with all the Avengers.

Everyone nods and heads into opposite rooms, except Natasha and Wanda, both seemingly frozen in the loss of the people they love.

It’s the brunette Witch who breaks the sad silence,“ do you think they’ll forgive us?” 

Natasha feels the tears spring into her eyes.

Leaving you was the last thing she wanted but the decision has been made. She can’t take it back now. She’s also a fugitive at this point.

“They’ll forgive us.” She tries to assure,“ hell they probably don’t think we need to be forgiven. Just,” the red head takes in a deep breath and places a gentle hand on her friends shoulder,“ shower, get some rest, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Despite her saying that, she doesn’t believe it. Why should she when she knows it won’t work. 

Not having you is like not having her heart or soul, no shower or sleep could ever make that feeling better.

It’s why she cries the second she’s out of the shower and in her room. The tears she managed to hold at bay pour from her eyes as she nearly curls into a ball on the small couch. 

That sadness, however, is short lived.

“Awe, don’t tell me those tears are for me Pretty Girl.”

She hadn’t know what this felt like. To have her hope be fulfilled. Truthfully she’d never really had hope before but she hoped in you and this- this euphoria, it feels amazing.

She left you clues and you followed them because why wouldn’t you? She’s the love of your life and you’d be damned if you just let her get away.

You found her. Her trust in your intelligence was well placed. As was her trust in your feelings for her.

Wiping her nose with the sleeve of your (stolen) shirt, she sniffs, and looks up at you. Green teary eyes meet yours and you smile at how beautiful she is even when sad.

“You’re so annoying Y/L/N.”

You step closer, taking her deathly delicate hands in yours. The warm smile you pull still manages to be cocky in some way and it drives Natasha crazy.

Pulling her up and into your arms you say,“ as if I’d let you slip away.”

Her eyes are roaming over your body just to ensure that you’re actually here,“ I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

Natasha wraps her arms around your waist and hugs you to her. You return the hug, breathing in that cinnamon and vanilla scent you had begun to miss over those few hours.

But Natasha knows you, and she knows you won’t let the silence last, which is why she’s already smiling and shaking her head when you break it.

“How could you not, I’m fuckin awesome.” You over dramatically wink at her.

The red head rolls her eyes, a small laugh on her lips as she starts to walk away from you.

“That was a moment, and you ruined it.” She points out.

Feigning shock, you press a hand to your heart,“ I would never!”

Your heart soars as she laughs once again, sound lighter than the last. This beauty has been through a lot of shit recently and to make her smile and laugh despite it all is an achievement worth the highest medal.

Before you can step closer to her there’s a knock at the door.

Natasha quirks an eyebrow before going to it. Cracking it, she peeks outside, befor stepping back and fully opening it.

“I’m sorry for bothering you I just, I think I’m going mad. I keep hearing Y/N’s voice and I can feel Vision as if he’s right beside me.” Your witchy best friend stammers out the second she’s inside.

Your eyes widen,“ oh shit, Vision.”

Neither Natasha or Wanda have time to react as you’re out the window already.

Wanda blinks a couple times to not sure if this is real or if she has in fact lost her mind. One glance at Natasha’s uncontrolabbly smiley face and she knows that was actually you.

Her slight joy is wiped away as she realizes her presence just scared you off. That’s what she thinks anyway.

She’s proven wrong when you step back through the window, this time followed by Vision phasing through the wall.

“Tada!” You whisper/yell, hands gesturing to the red android.

“Viz.” Wanda’s shocked response whispers through the room.

“Wanda.” He smiles back with a nod.

“Wait!” You ruin yet another moment.“ Before you two get all lovey, I’d like to hug my best friend.”

Arms wide you step closer to Wanda. Her magic flickers through her eyes in fear.

No, she’s not scared of you, she’s scared that you hate her. That you’re disappointed in the choice she made to side with Steve.

“Uh Wanda, this is getting awkward.” You murmur.

“You don’t hate me?” The Witch asks, barely above a whisper.

“Woah! Hate? I could never hate you kid, I love you. And I’m not holding anything against you. We all did what we thought was right. I’m just really glad you’re okay.”

At that the brunette throws herself into your arms, wrapping her own around you tightly.

Her body relaxes the instant she’s in your arms. The comfort of your warmth is an unbelievable contrast to the cold of her cell on the Raft. The gentleness of you hand on the back of her head nothing like the harsh presence of her shock collar. Your hold tight but not restricting like her straight jacket.

“Please tell me they didn’t use that shock collar on you.” You whisper, praying they didn’t hurt your best friend.

She doesn’t answer. She can’t. Not when there’s the smallest of a burn mark on her neck, reminding her of the sharp sting of the electrocution.

And you know they did. It’s why you to tighten your hold just a little and blink away your tears.

“I’m strongly tempted to go back and kick their asses”

The girl immediately pulls back, brown eyes staring into yours. Your girlfriend also looks at you, waiting for an explanation.

“No. No more violence, please.” She whispers.

For the first time sense he came in, Vision speaks.

“I agree with Agent Y/L/N. They deserve reprecutions for their actions toward you.”

Wanda steps from your hold and over to Vision. Her hand just barely cups the androids cheek.

“That’s not necessary. I’m here, I’m safe now,” she pauses,“ and I’m with you.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Vision smile, until now.

It’s faint but it’s there, and it’s all cause of the girl in front of him.

“You guys are cute.” You smile.

Luckily the android can’t blush, or he’d be redder than his skin. Much like Wanda, who’s cheeks blaze.

Natasha rolls her eyes,“ okay, Wanda, Vision, I’m sure you two want privacy and rest.” She gestures to her door.

They both nod and leave with a smile to you and Natasha.

“You just kicked th-”

She shuts you up with a fierce, burning, loving kiss. Hands on both sides of your face, body flush with yours.

“You’re so very annoying.” Her lips brush yours with each word.

Grinning like mad, you pull the red head over and to the bed.

Once she’s in your arms, you sigh contentedly,“ I may be annoying, but you love me.”

Silence.

A deep breath in and a sigh out.

“Yeah,” she smiles softly to herself. Wiggling her body closer to yours,“ I do love you.”

*****

Tag List: @uglipotata72829 @jumbojamba47 @fayhar @blackwidowromonoff @natasha-danvers @shycucumbersandwich​ @natasharomanoffsbitch-x @studywithrosie01 @gorgeyhun69 @imnotasuperhero @peggycarter-steverogers @superwholockedbeauty @jenny-song @confusinggemini612 @thelastavenger-3000

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #black widow x reader #black widow #marvel x reader #mcu #reader insert #Thin Line

[whattodowithace]

The Weight Of Lies (Byeongkwan)

Title: The Weight Of Lies

Pairing: Byeongkwan x Reader

Genre: Fluff; (In Ju's words) Spicy

Word Count: 3,043 Words

Writer: Whattodowithkpop [Lio]

Summary: Much like the adored story of Pinocchio, Byeongkwan has a tell for when he lies. After receiving an interesting gift from his aunt, whenever he lies, a peculiar anomaly occurs with this gift...

*****

Little, dark headed Byeongkwan runs through the house as soon as he sees the familiar car park in the driveway. This familiar car belonged to someone he hadn't seen in a long while, making his excitement go through the roof.  He runs through the house, finding his parents in the kitchen where they sat enjoying each other's company. He uses his limited vocabulary and animated finger pointing and arm pulling to draw their attention to the driveway. The person he was waiting for had yet to hear the boy speak, making Byeongkwan that more anxious to showcase his development. His parents watch as the young boy fidgets at the door, waiting for the familiar figure to enter the home. The door creaks open, revealing a tall, slender figure, hair down to her waist and dressed to the nines. She looks down, seeing the boy with bright shinning eyes staring up at her with amusement.

"What do we have here?" The woman's low voice travels through the house, making Byeongkwan squeal.

He runs up to the tall figure, wrapping his arms around her legs as his bright eyes look up at her.

"I hear from a little birdie that someone has some things to say."

"It's me!" Byeongkwan giggles as the woman leans down, bringing him into a full hug.

"He has been waiting to see you since he spoke his first words." Byeongkwan's mom speaks up, stepping forward to hug the woman as the two laugh.

"I'm sorry to keep him waiting." The woman winks at Byeongkwan. "How are you doin' sis?"

"We're doing good." Byeongkwan's mom smiles as her husband comes up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders.

There is a tug on the woman's clothing, a light doe eyed Byeongkwan catching her attention and looking up at her with anticipation.

"I promise I didn't forget." Byeongkwan's aunt leans down with a laugh, coming face to face with her nephew as she lays her purse on the ground.

Her fingers dig through its contents, offering Byeongkwan many facial expressions to make him laugh. She pulls out an orange box, handing it to the small boy who takes it with much gratitude. His eyes sparkle as he opens the box, pulling out the item that rested inside. The sterling silver twinkled in the florescent lights that brightened the room, the singular chain clasped together deeming it a bracelet.

"It doesn't much fit you now." His aunt explains as she takes the chain from his small hands, clipping it into a circle. "But when it does, it will be very useful to you." 

At the time Byeongkwan didn't comprehend her words, nor did he get the chance to ask her for her full meaning. However, it felt natural for him to wear the bracelet once he got old enough. It still dangled on his wrist the first time he put it on for kindergarten, due to the lankiness of his still small wrists. This small setback didn't stop him from wearing it as much as possible.

His aunt had passed away a year after giving him the bracelet. She was a scientist, one that accomplished many things. Unfortunately, because of this, she was sought after by many people, good and bad. Her death records as an accident, the suspicious case undergoing no investigation left the family feeling uneasy about the true nature of her death. Byeongkwan doesn't remember much about his aunt, however he does remember loving and her visits. Even though he couldn't remember much about her, him wearing the bracelet made him feel close to her in some way. That's why he took special care to wear it always.

It was an eye catching gift, piquing the interest of many other students. One that was particularly interested in the silver chain was a little girl. She would stare at it as it dangled off Byeongkwan's wrist, her eyes shinning as they focused on the small piece of jewelry. She asked him many times to play with it, to which he agreed on the condition that it stayed on his wrist. She would intertwine their fingers, causing a mad blush to overtake Byeongkwan's cheeks. With their fingers intertwined, she would trace the delicate chain with her fingers as she admired it.

This became a common occurrence, her taking his hand in hers to play with the bracelet always ending in a blushing Byeongkwan. One of the many days of this common action, she had looked up from the bracelet, noticing his red ears.

"Are you blushing?" She had asked him, her head tilting as her hand kept a tight grip of his.

"No..." Byeongkwan whispered, his lips pouting out.

Without warning, his wrist feels heavier making him look down at it in wonder. As the two children look to his wrist they see a small little charm now attached to one of the chains. It was a yellow hat, rocking back in forth with the direction of the changing winds.

"When did you get this?" The little girl asked Byeongkwan, her eyes shinning even brighter, using the pad of her finger to flick the charm with care.

"I... I.. I didn't.."

"Is it because you said you weren't blushing when you actually were?" She teases with a small giggle.

"I was not!" Byeongkwan yells, his face turning a deeper shade of red.

Once again, his wrist felt heavier, the little girl squealing beside him as she lifts their hands, showing a red overalls charm.

"It was!"

"It was not!"

Another charm, one looking like a black top hat nestled between the two others.

"I think it's when you lie."

Byeongkwan looks to the bracelet in concern, feeling an uneasiness in his gut.

"Tell another one!" Her eyes sparkling, putting the stars on a clear night to shame.

Byeongkwan watched her excited eyes stare at his bracelet, want to give in to her wishes.

"I don't like you."

She looks up in shock, her bottom lip quivering, tears filling her eyes to the brim as her fingers slack against his. Byeongkwan feels immense guilt wash over him.

"No, no, I was lying." Byeongkwan tries to reason as he pulls his bracelet up, another charm in the shape of a black cat on it now.

Her tears stop as she watches all the charms dangle in front of her. She sniffles training her fingers across the charms.

"You really like me?"

"I do."

His face blushes again, laugh erupting from her at the sight, prompting her to hug him before intertwining their fingers again.

"I'll keep your aunt's magic bracelet a secret." She puts her finger to her lips, Byeongkwan nodding in agreement.

~

Years later and the two are still inseparable. Byeongkwan had done well in keeping his lies to a minimum, only acquiring a few more small charms to add to his collection. They had tested the bracelet in many aspects, including letting her wear it for a day as she tried her hand at some lies. It resulted in zero added charms, but she finally got to wear it for a short while before having to give it back to let it rest on its permanent home. They never could explain the science behind the bracelet, no matter how hard they tried. The secret behind it most likely passed on with its creator, leaving it a forever question mark in their lives.

As The pair grew they always appeared to be a couple, this was likely due to her unbreakable habit of intertwining her fingers with his any chance she got. Every new school year, the other students assumed they were together, neither gender wanting to intervene. Unfortunately, their final year of high school was Byeongkwan's biggest nightmare. The boys were beginning to notice her, her awkward stage far from over meaning many more boys were shooting their shot. Byeongkwan couldn't lie, he hated the extra attention she got. Not because he was jealous, but because he had a crush on her, so any competition for her affection he saw as a threat and therefore disliked them. She didn't accept many advances, unfortunately for Byeongkwan, there was the occasional suitor she would give a chance. However, she was often quick to drop them, much to the relief of Byeongkwan.

One day she enters their last class, a large grin adorning her face, directed towards him.

"Byeongkwan." She grabs his attention, sitting next to him and pulling her chair closer to him so she could whisper.

He hums as his head stays resting on his crossed arms, his eyes closed for a few moments before the teacher came to start class.

"You know the new quarterback?"

The mention of the new student caught his attention, His head lifting to meet her eyes.

"What about him?"

"He asked me out."

"You said no, right?"

"Why would I say no? Of course I said yes." She laughs.

Byeongkwan's heart drops as the aforementioned quarterback enters the classroom, his eyes training on her and offering her a wink and a smile. She waves at him and winks back, making Byeongkwan sick to his stomach.

"He's so handsome isn't he?"

"A real dreamboat." Byeongkwan mumbles, feeling a new weight added to his bracelet. He had forgot about the consequences of lying in that moment, hoping she didn't notice the lapse in behavior.

Class starts before they can discuss it more, all Byeongkwan could do was hope she wouldn't stick with him for too long.

~

Weeks passed, many weeks at that and the quarterback was still around. Of course Byeongkwan didn't like him for obvious reasons, but there was something more that irked him. This guy was very cocky and spoke bad about everyone that he knew. He treated her with little regard, calling her names, saying terrible things about her when she wasn't around. Byeongkwan wanted to punch him, but he knew he couldn't lie his way out of that fight or explanation.

He had butted into almost all of their time together, meaning Byeongkwan hadn't had the chance to tell her how horrible her, now deemed, boyfriend was. However, every time he made plans with her, the new boyfriend seemed to come along as well.

He was so thankful when she asked to study with him for their upcoming test. She had told him her boyfriend was busy so he couldn't study with them. Byeongkwan stayed quiet, knowing if he said anything he would be adding unnecessary charms to his arm.

They studied as if all was back the way it was. It was the first time since she started dating the star quarterback that Byeongkwan got to enjoy his time with his best friend. He hadn't seen her genuine laugh since her new relationship. It filled him with joy, but also despair as his thoughts clouded with the reason he hadn't heard it.

Byeongkwan decided to be cordial, asking how her boyfriend was, even though he didn't have an interest in how he was.

"He's busy with practice." She tells him, no change in her normal inflection.

"He's been busy with practice a lot lately." Byeongkwan comments, being as nonchalant as he could be about his ill feelings towards his busy schedule.

"I'm guessing he always is, even before transferring here."

"That sounds believable."

"You don't like him." She states more than asks, catching Byeongkwan by surprise.

"I never said that." A half truth to cover up the full truth in that Byeongkwan had a strong distaste for the man.

She stands, stepping closer to his already upright form, his back hitting his desk as he backs away from her approaching steps. He lays his wrist with the bracelet on the desk, hiding it from her knowing gaze. In the sudden movements, his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, resting at the end as he watches her from over the frames.

"What do you not like about him?" She inquires, looking up at him with curiosity.

"He says things about you behind your back." Byeongkwan tells her, not wanting to keep that a secret.

"I'm not surprised." She shrugs, not seeming hurt by this information.

"Then why are you still with him?"

"Do you have someone better in mind?"

Byeongkwan wanted to die right there, the way her eyes were looking at him made his heart beat faster and his breathing go irregular. She was waiting for an answer and he only had one truth in his head and knew he couldn't admit that. The lie left his mouth without so much as a thought.

"No."

Her head tilts as he feels his wrist bare the weight of his new lie.

"Byeongkwan." She approaches him, her body mere inches from being completely flush with his. "Do you like me?"

Byeongkwan felt the room heat up, his skin feeling on fire as she awaited his answer. He gulps, feeling a heavy lump sit in his throat that sat there without so much as a movement.

"No."

Another charm added, Byeongkwan's hand becoming tired from the collection appearing on the silver chain.

"You have no attraction to me?"

He shakes his head, not trusting his voice.

"Use your words, BK." She uses his nickname, one she didn't use often, causing a strong inhale to come from his nose.

"No." His voice was shaky, as shaky as his arm holding the weight of his lies.

"You don't get nervous when I hold your hand?"

"Please don't make me answer these." He could feel his face burning as he tried his best to avoid her eyes.

"If you were telling the truth I wouldn't ask them."

"I am telling the truth." Another charm.

"Byeongkwan, I can tell when you're lying cause you are so terrible at it."

She reaches her hand out to his shoulder, his eyes squeeze shut as he braces for her next move. The shoulder her hand rests on begins to tingle, the feeling following her fingers as they trail down his arm at an excruciating slow pace. The heat in the room increasing to unbearable temperatures as her fingers reach his bare forearm.

"Can I see your bracelet?"

"Please don't make me." He pleads in words and deeds as he opens his eyes to convey his pleas that way.

"Why not?" She asks, her face twisting into sadness, a face much like the one from all those years ago when he told the lie of not liking her.

Byeongkwan wanted to avoid the truth, knowing it would expose all his lies. However this sad face of hers was something he couldn't bear to see.

"Because I can't." He breathes, his voice shaky and weak from the heat his body had experienced.

"Yes you can, I would never make you feel terrible about this."

"It's.. It's not that." He sighs, the weight he felt on his chest creating an unfamiliar anxious feeling, that paired along with his mind swirling with a million thoughts he felt he could pass out. 

"My wrist is stuck from all the charms..."

"Byeongkwan, you could have told me the truth." She scolds him through her giggles, her fingers reaching his, an electric shock going through him at the contact.

Her fingers intertwine with his, like they had done so countless times before. However, this time, something felt different. Byeongkwan felt warmth throughout his body and fireworks in his stomach. He wasn't sure if these were pleasant feelings yet, but he wasn't going to stop her as she brought his wrist from behind his back.

The chain was full of charms now, various objects adorning Byeongkwan's wrist as she inspected it with care.

The pad of her finger traces the charms, them swaying even heavier against the friction. Her eyes trail upwards to their intertwined hands, her eyes darting to Byeongkwan's for a quick second before staring back at their hands.

"Our fingers have always intertwined perfectly." She notes.

Byeongkwan watches her, a blushing heat covering his whole body as she inspects him with great intent.

"I wish the bracelet worked on me."

She took a step closer to Byeongkwan, her chest meeting his as she looks deep into his eyes.

"That way I could say how much I adore you and want you to be mine. I could say it all without a single charm appearing on the chain. I could say that I love you and you could believe me without a doubt because my bracelet would show no deceit."

Byeongkwan's mouth hung open as she stared at him, waiting for his response. He believed her. All the words she spoke, each sentence felt like truth to him, he didn't need a bracelet to believe that. However, he couldn't get the words out to convey that to her, so he did the only thing he could think to do.

With his free hand he wraps it around her waist, still holding her hand like his life depended on it as he introduces theirs lip, his kiss passionate to pour years of feelings into the kiss. She made a small sound of surprise at the weight of the kiss, but kissed him back with as much passion as he was giving off. Her hand went to the nape of his neck, pushing his lips further into hers. Their oxygen was running out, however neither one seemed to care as they stay lip locked, trying to get enough air through their noses as they clung to each other.

She pulls away, her breath coming out in heavy puffs of air as her chest pushes against him with every breath out, his demeanor similar to hers. Their lips were still touching as he spoke his next words through his panting.

"I love you."

It was barley a whisper, but she heard it and when she looked down to his wrist to see if his bracelet would become heavier, her smile widened as she watched the bracelet stay the same, he spoke no false words.

She looks back at him, her eyes boring into his as love danced in them. They had a lot of kisses and touches to catch up on, so it comes to no surprise when they lean back in again to share another passionate kiss.

MAIN MASTERLIST

#ace writers #a.c.e #a.c.e fanficiton #a.c.e imagine #tellafairytale #a.c.e x reader #a.c.e byeongkwan x reader #a.c.e byongkwan #ace #ace fanfiction #aceimagine #ace x reader #ace byeongkwan x reader #ace byeongkwan

[thewidowsghost]

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 12

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

3rd Person POV

The days creep by, and there is no doubt that Fluffy is still alive and well behind the locked door.

It is sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watches them turn a mouse into a snuffbox - points were given for how pretty the snuffbox is, but taken away if it still had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while Harry, Ron, and Hermione remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion, and when they finish, watch as (Y/n) practically sweats her whole body weight as she is instructed to make a Fire Protection Potion.

(Y/n) walks out of the Potions classroom an hour after everyone else and trudges up to lunch, her robes sticking to her. When (Y/n) slumps down at the table between Hermione and Harry, the other five look at her.

"How'd it go?" Hermione asks as (Y/n) grabs a peanut butter sandwich.

(Y/n) sighs. "Well, Snape didn't exactly say anything good or bad about it, so," she shrugs. "I could have failed or just achieved the highest grade of any first year ever." (Y/n) pulls a vial of blackish purple liquid out of the pocket of the robes. "I could set myself on fire and then drink it."

"Not a good idea, (Nickname)," Fred says, passing by and sitting across from her. "Everyone might not like you much, but you don't need to solve that problem by setting yourself on fire."

"For once, my brother's right," Ron says.

"If my potion worked, I wouldn't be setting myself on fire," (Y/n) points out, smiling for the first time in weeks, and everyone else seems to cheer up at the smile.

Over the last few weeks, (Y/n) and Harry had been trying to ignore the stabbing pains in their neck and head, respectively, which had been bothering them since (Y/n)'s trip into the forest. Neville thought Harry was having a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept begin woken by his old nightmare, except that is was now worse than ever because he was now seeing a hooded figure dripping blood in it that (Y/n) had described.

Maybe it is because they hadn't seen what (Y/n) had seen in the forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their necks or foreheads, but Ron and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry and (Y/n). The idea of Voldemort clearly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying that they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam is History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invested self-stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful wee until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns tells them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry can't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," says Hermione as they join the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds.

"We didn't need to study the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or Elfric the Eager," (Y/n) adds.

The two always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron says this made him feel ill, so they wander down to the lake and flop under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan are tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which is basking in the warm shallows.

"No more studying," Ron sighs happily, stretching out on the grass.

"You two could look more cheerful, (Y/n), Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet," Hermione adds.

Harry was rubbing his forehead, and (Y/n) had her hand pressed to her neck, rubbing slightly.

"I wish I knew what this means!" Harry bursts out angrily.

"Same, my scar keeps hurting," (Y/n) adds. "It's happened before, but not this often."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggests.

"We're not ill," retorts Harry. "I think it's a warning . . . it means danger's coming . . ."

Ron wouldn't get worked up, it's too hot, "Harry, (Y/n), relax. Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy."

"It's not Snape," (Y/n) interjects but Ron just continues.

"He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

(Y/n) nods, but she can't shake the lurking feeling that there is something she'd forgotten to do, something important. When she tries to explain this, Hermione says, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."

(Y/n) is sure that the unsettling feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. She watches an owl flutter towards the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in it's beak. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluff . . . never . . . but -

(Y/n) suddenly jumps to her feet.

"Where are you going?" asks Ron sleepily.

"I've just thought," (Y/n) says and Hermione studies her sister, who's face had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

"Why?" pants Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," says (Y/n), sprinting up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid want more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if they're against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, right? Why didn't I see it before?"

"What are you talking about?" asks Ron, but (Y/n), sprinting across the grounds towards the forest, doesn't answer.

Hagrid is sitting in an armchair outside his house, his trousers and sleeves are rolled up, and he is shelling peas into a large bowl. "Hullo," he says, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," answers Ron, but (Y/n) cuts him off.

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," answers Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off." He sees the six of them looking stunned and raises his eyebrows. "It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head —that's one o' the pubs down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

(Y/n) sinks down next to the bowl of peas, "What did you talk about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," replies Hagrid, frowning as he tries to remember."Yeah . . . he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here. . . . He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after . . . so I told him . . . an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon . . . an' then . . . I can'remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks. . . . Let's see . . . yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted . . . but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home. . . . So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy. . . ."

"And did he — did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asks, trying to keep his voice calm

"Well — yeah — how many three-headed dogs d' yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep —" Hagrid suddenly looks horrified. "I shouldn't a told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey —where're yeh goin'?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione and (Y/n) don't speak to each other until they come to a halt in the entrance hall, which seems very cold and gloomy after the warm, summery grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," says Harry. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak - it might've been easy, once he got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

They look around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him.

"We'll just have to —" Harry begins, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

What are you four doing inside?"

It is Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," says Hermione, rather bravely, the others think.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeat, as though it is a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"

Harry swallows - What now?

"It's sort of secret," he says, but he wishes at once he hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flare.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she says coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone?" asks Harry frantically. "Now?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time -"

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"

"Look," says Harry, throwing caution to the winds, "Professor - it's about the Sorcerer's Stone -"

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she is carrying tumble out of her arms, but she doesn't pick them up, so (Y/n) darts over, picks up the books, and silently holds them out to her head of house, but she doesn't take them.

"How do you know -?" McGonagall splutters.

"Professor, I think - I know - that Sn - that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk with Professor Dumbledore," McGonagall eyes him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she says finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor -"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she answers shortly. She takes the books from (Y/n). "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they don't.

"It's tonight," says Harry, once he is sure Professor McGonagall is out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we -"

Hermione gasps softly, and the others wheel around.

Snape is standing there.

"Good afternoon," he says smoothly.

They stare at him.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he says, with an odd, twisted smile.

"We were -" Harry begins, without any idea what he is going to say.

"You want to be more careful," says Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"

(Y/n) flushes. They turn to go outside, but Snape calls them back.

"Be warned, Potter - any more nighttime wanderings and I personally make sure you are expelled," Snape then turns to (Y/n). "(L/n), come with me," he says and she nods.

Snape strides towards the dungeons and (Y/n) jogs after him.

Once in the Potions Master's office, Snape sits down at his desk, and gestures for (Y/n) to sit down across from him. (Y/n) sits down nervously as Snape opens a folder and slides it in front of her.

The Potions Master nods encouragingly, and then (Y/n) takes a hold of the folder, gazing down at the paper inside.

Name (Last, First): (L/n), (Y/n)

DOB: October 31st, 19879

Year: 1

Exam: Potions 1

Score: 327%

Next Class Recommendation: Potions 4

(Y/n) stares at the score, "How?"

"You automatically get an extra hundred percent added because you took a harder exam," Snape tells the girl.

"What about the other 127%?" (Y/n) asks doing quick math.

"It's for making a Third year level potion," Snape says.

"So next year I'll be taking Forth year Potions?" (Y/n) asks and Snape nods.

Then the Potions Master smiles, slightly unsettling (Y/n). "I've impressed by your performance this year, (Y/n)," Snape says. (Y/n) beams at the compliment from the teacher that never gave compliments. (Y/n) stands up to leave and when she gets to the door, Snape says something, "You look a lot like your parents, you know? You have your mother's eyes," (Y/n) turns around, a sad expression on her face.

"Nobody's ever told me that before," (Y/n) murmurs her eyes flashing silver, walking back to stand in front of her Professor's desk.

What the two didn't know was that Hermione was waiting outside the door, listening - not on purpose, of course - to the conversation.

(Y/n) sits down in the chair across from Snape and the Potions Master continues. "I was friends with your mother when she was at school." (Y/n) sits straighter in her chair, interest flickering in her eyes. "(M/n), she was a Gryffindor," (Y/n) smiles at the thought. "Even though they were from different houses, you could never separate the two. (M/n), she was best friends with Lily Evans, who married James Potter," (Y/n) could sense her Professor tense at Harry's father's name.

Snape, looking at the girl, notices her eyes slowly turning back to their brilliant emerald green.

"Your mother was a great Quidditch player, and excelled at Transfiguration. She was an amazing friends" Snape's voice turns wistful and (Y/n) studies her Professor with gentle eyes.

"Thank you for telling me about her, Professor," (Y/n) says.

"It was no problem," Snape says gently, he and (Y/n) standing up, (Y/n) grabbing the Potions Exam paper, and the two walk out of the classroom and are met by Thora and Hermione standing on either side of the door.

"What are you doing here?" Snape asks sharply.

"I came to wait for my sister," Hermione answers.

(Y/n) flashes her a questioning look before nodding to her Potion's Master.

Hermione walks slightly behind (Y/n) as they walk up to the Gryffindor Common Room.

The portrait of the Fat Lady swings open and the duo walks in, Harry and Ron turning to look at them.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" Hermione wails from behind (Y/n); (Y/n) sits down on the arm of Harry's chair. "Snape came out and asked us what we were doing, so we said we were waiting for (Y/n). We don't know where Snape went."

(Y/n) groans in exasperation, "You really think it's still Snape?"

"Yep," Harry says.

"So, that's it then, isn't it?" (Y/n) says finally, as a stab of pain pulses through the scar on her neck.

The others stare at her. (Y/n) had turned pale and her eyes are glittering.

"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first," (Y/n) says, a frown on her face.

"You're mad!" says Ron.

"You can't!" says Hermione. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"

"So what?" Harry shouts.

"Don't you understand?" (Y/n) asks, her voice softer, her gaze flickering silver. "If whoever gets the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over?" The others gaze at her, eyes wide. "There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it! Losing points doesn't matter anymore?If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to find somewhere else to go," catching Hermione's shocked glances, she continues, "I'm not letting anyone else I care about die for me." (Y/n) swallows thickly, "It's only dying a bit later than I would have. I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you can say is going to stop me!"

"I'm going too," Harry says and (Y/n)'s silver gaze shifts to him. "Voldemort killed my parents too." (Y/n)'s gaze softens.

"You're both right," Hermione says in a small voice.

"We'll use the Invisibility Cloak," says Harry.

"But will it cover all four of us?" asks Ron.

Harry turns to Ron. "All - all four of us?" Harry asks.

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?" Ron asks.

"Of course not," says Hermione briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful . . ."

"But if we get caught, you two will be expelled, too."

"Not if I can help it," says Hermione grimly. "Flitwick told me and (Y/n) in secret that we got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

After dinner, (Y/n), Harry, Ron, and Hermione sit apart from the other three in the common room. Nobody bothers them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to (Y/n) anymore, after all. This was the first night she hadn't been upset by it. (Y/n) darts upstairs, and pulls out the small trunk where she keeps extra potions. The only one she had was the fire protection, which she pockets into her hoodie, pocketing her wand and she straps small knife in a sheath on her left forearm, making sure her hoodie covered the sheath.

(Y/n) scampers downstairs and over to her three friends, who were standing around the Invisibility Cloak.

"We'd better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all four of us - if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on it's own -"

"What are you doing?" comes a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appears from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looks as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Neville, nothing," answers Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back.

Neville stares at their guilty faces.

"You're going out again," Neville realizes, looking into (Y/n)'s green eyes.

"No, no, no," says Hermione. "No, we're not. Why don't you go back to bed, Neville?"

Harry looks at the grandfather clock by the door. We couldn't afford to waste any more time, Harry thinks, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

"You can't go out again," Neville tells (Y/n), "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"You don't understand," says Harry, "this is important."

But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate. "I won't let you do it," he says, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll - I'll fight you!"

"Neville," Ron explodes, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot—"

"Don't you call me an idiot!" retorts Neville. "I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us," answers Ron in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing."

He takes a step forward and Neville drops Trevor the toad, who leaps out of sight."Go on then, try and hit me!" says Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"

Harry turns to Hermione."Do something," he whines desperately.

But it's (Y/n) who reacts, drawing her Alder wood wand out of her pocket, "I'm sorry about this Neville." She raises her wand, "Petrificus Totalus." Neville's arms snap to his sides, and his legs spring together. His whole body rigid, he sways where he stands and then falls flat on his face, stiff as a board.

(Y/n) runs to turn him over. Neville's jaws are jammed together so he can't speak. Only his eyes are moving, looking at them in horror.

"What've you done to him?" Harry whispers.

"It's the full Body-Bind," says (Y/n) miserably. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."

"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," says Harry.

"You'll understand later, Neville," says Ron as they step over him and pull on the Invisibility Cloak.

But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor doesn't feel like a very good omen.

In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looks like Filch, and every distant breath of wind sounds like Peeves swooping down on them.

At the fit of the first set of stairs, they spot Mrs. Norris skulking near the top.

"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispers in Harry's ear, but Harry shook his head. As they climb carefully around her, Mrs. Norris turns her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything.

They don't meet anyone else until they reach teh staircase up to the third floor. Peeves is bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.

"Who's there?" Peeves asks suddenly as they climb towards him. He narrows his wicked black eyes, "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?" He rises up in the air and floats there, squinting at them.

Harry has a sudden idea. "Peeves," he says, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."

Peeves almost falls out of the air in shock. He catches himself in time and hovers about a foot off the stairs. "So sorry, you bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir," he says greasily. "My mistake, my mistake - I didn't see you - of course I didn't you're invisible - forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."

"I have business here, Peeves," croaks Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," says Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you." And he scoots off.

"Brilliant, Harry!" whispers Ron, an impressed look on (Y/n)'s face.

A few seconds later, they are there, outside the third-floor corridor - and the door is already ajar.

"Well, there you are," Harry says quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy."

"It's not Snape," (Y/n) hisses, never feeling more correct after her talk with her Potions Master earlier.

But seeing the open door somehow seems to impress upon all four of them what is facing them. Underneath the Cloak, (Y/n) turns to the other three.

"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," she says softly. "You can take the Cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," says Ron.

"We're coming," insists Hermione.

Harry reaches over and pushes the door open the rest of the way.

As the door creaks, low, rumbling growls meet their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniff madly in their direction, even though it can't see them.

"What's that at it's feet?" Hermione asks in a soft whisper.

"Looks like a harp," replies Ron. "Snape must have left it there."

Deciding not to argue anymore about Snape, (Y/n) keeps her mouth shut.

Harry puts Hagrid's flute to his lips and blows. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note, the beast's eyes begin to droop. Harry hardly draws breath. Slowly, the dog's growls cease - it totters on its paws and falls to its knees, then it slumps on the ground, fast asleep.

"Keep playing," Ron warns Harry as they slip out of the Cloak and creeps towards the trapdoor. They can feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as the approach the giant heads.

"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," says Ron, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first, Hermione?"

"No, I don't!" Hermione snaps.

"I'll go first," (Y/n) whispers. She steps carefully over the dog's legs. She bends and pulls the ring of the trapdoor; the trapdoor swings up and open.

"What can you see?" Hermione asks anxiously.

"Nothing - just black - there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop," (Y/n) whispers. She swings her legs into the trapdoor. She looks directly at Hermione, meeting her sister's gaze. "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the Owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, okay?"

Hermione nods, a flash of fear showing in her brown eyes.

"See you in a minute, I hope . . ." (Y/n) slides the rest of the way into the trapdoor and lets go. Cold, damp air rushes past her as she falls down, down, down and -

FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump, she lands on something soft. She sits up and feels around, her eyes not used to the gloom. It feels as though she is sitting on some soft of plant.

"It's okay!" she calls up to the light the size of a postage stamp, which was the open trapdoor, "it's a soft landing, you can jump!"

Ron and Harry follow right away. They land, sprawled next to (Y/n).

"What's this stuff?" are Ron's first words.

"Dunno, some sort of plant thing," (Y/n) rasps. "I suppose it's here to break the fall."

"Come on, Hermione!" Harry calls as something snakes it's way up (Y/n)'s neck and (Y/n) tries to pull away, but whatever it was, tightens around her.

The distant music stops; there is a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped, landing on (Y/n)'s other side.

"We must be miles under the school," Hermione comments.

"Luck this plant thing's here," Ron says.

"Lucky!" shrieks Hermione. "Look at the three of you!" She leaps up and struggles towards a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist, snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.

(Y/n) however, had the tendrils had wrapped around her neck and Hermione watches in horror as the three fight to pull the plant off themselves, but the more they strain against it, the tighter and faster the plant wounds around them.

"Stop moving!" Hermione orders them. "I know what this is - it's Devil's Snare!"

(Y/n), panicking, begins to strain more, and the Devil's Snare tightens around her chest. (Y/n) thrashes around in the plant's grasp and the Devil's Snare tightens painfully around her, the vial in her pocket pressing into her stomach, ready to shatter.

(Y/n) begins feeling faint from the loss of air, hears Ron bellow, "HAVE YOU GONE MAD? ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

A few seconds later, the three feel it loosening its grip as it cringes away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravels itself from their bodies and they are able to pull free.

(Y/n)'s chest heaves as she regains her breath, Harry holding up her up.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," (Y/n) rasps.

"Yeah," adds Ron, "and lucky (Y/n) doesn't lose her head in a crisis - 'there's no wood,' honestly."

"Only my breath," (Y/n) jokes, once her breath completely returns, though the others could see the dark bruise beginning to form on her neck. "Right, this way," says (Y/n), pointing down a stone passageway, which is the only way forward.

All the four can hear, apart from their footsteps is the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passage way slopes downward, and Harry is reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, he remembers the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon - Norbert had been bad enough . . .

"Can you hear something?" Ron asks in a soft whisper.

(Y/n) listens, hearing a soft rustling and clicking noise seeming to come from ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?" Harry wonders.

"I don't think so," (Y/n) answers. "It sounds like wings."

"There's light ahead - I can see something moving," Hermione adds, exchanging a look with (Y/n).

They reach the end of the passageway and sees before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high them. It is full of small, jewel-bright things, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the room is a very heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" wonders Ron.

"Probably," answers Harry. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once . . . well, there's no other choice . . . I'll run." He takes a deep breath, covers his face with his arms, and sprints across the room. He expects to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happens. He reaches the door untouched, and he pulls on the handle, but it's locked.

Hermione and Ron follow but (Y/n) gazes up and around the chamber.

"Guys!" (Y/n) calls, her voice echoing around the room, and the other three turn to look at her. The three catch (Y/n) gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. "They're not birds! They're keys - winged keys." Her emerald gaze studies the chamber again and she catches sight of three broomsticks. "We've got to catch the key to the door." (Y/n) jogs over to the door and studies the lock.

"But there are hundreds of them!" Ron exclaims.

"We're looking for a big, old fashioned one - probably silver, like the handle," (Y/n) says. "Probably has a crumpled wing," she murmurs. (Y/n), Ron, and Harry grab brooms and soar into the midst of the cloud of keys.

Not for nothing, though, was (Y/n) the youngest Seeker in a century. She had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, she notices a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole. "That one!" she calls. "That big one - there - no, there - with bright blue wings - the feathers are all crumpled on one side.

Ron goes speeding in the direction that (Y/n) is pointing, crashes into the ceiling, and almost falls of his broom.

"We've got to close in on it!" (Y/n) calls, not taking her eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at it from above - Harry, stay below and stop it from going down - and I'll try to catch it. Right, NOW!"

Ron dives, Harry rocket's upward, the key dodges them both, and (Y/n) streaks after it; it speeds towards the wall, (Y/n) leans forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pins it to the stone with one hand. Ron, Harry, and Hermione's cheers echo around the high chamber.

They land quickly, and (Y/n) sprints for the door, the key struggling in her hand. She rams it into the lock and turns - it worked. The moment the lock had clicks open, the key takes flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

"Ready?" (Y/n) asks the other three, her hand on the door handle. They nod, and she pulls the door open.

The next chamber is so dark they can't see anything at all, so (Y/n) casts the Lumos charm, but then light floods the room to reveal an astonishing sight, (Y/n) extinguishing her wand light.

They are standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller then they area and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, across the chamber, are the white pieces. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) shiver slightly - the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispers.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" says Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room."

Behind the white pieces they can see another door.

"How?" asks Hermione nervously, (Y/n) placing a comforting on her friend's shoulder.

"I think," (Y/n) says, "we're going to have to be chessmen."

Ron walks over to a black knight and puts his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone springs to life, the horse pawing the ground and the knight turns his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

"Do we - er - have to join you to get across?" Ron asks. The black knight nods and Ron turns to the other three. "This needs thinking about . . ." Ron mumbles. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces . . ." The three stay quiet, watching Ron think. Finally, he says, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of the three of you are that good at chess -"

"We're not offended," says Harry quickly.

"Just tell us what to do," (Y/n) says gently.

"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go there, instead of that castle, (Y/n), you take that knight there."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be that other knight," answers Ron.

The chessmen seem to have been listening, because at these words both knights, a bishop, and a castle turn their backs on the white pieces and walk off the board, leaving four empty squares that Harry, Ron, (Y/n), and Hermione take.

"White always plays first in chess," says Ron, peering across the board. "Yes . . . look . . ."

A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Ron starts to direct the black pieces, occasionally asking (Y/n) for advice, but mostly on his own, the pieces moving silently wherever he sent them.

Harry's knees are trembling, What if we lose?

"Harry - move diagonally four squares to the right."

The first real shock comes when their other bishop is taken. (Y/n) lets out a cry as the queen smashes the bishop - who was beside her - to the floor and drags him off the board, where he lies quite still, face down.

"Had to let that happen," explains Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you to take that bishop, (Y/n), go on."

Every time one of their pieces is lost, the white pieces show no mercy. Soon there is a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed that Harry, Hermione, and (Y/n) were in danger. He himself darts around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," Ron mutters suddenly. "Let me think - let me think.

The white queen turns her blank face towards Ron.

"Yes . . ." says Ron softly, it's the only way . . . I've got to be taken."

"No!" Harry, (Y/n), and Hermione shout.

"That's chess," snaps Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I'll make my move and she'll take me - that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"

"But -"

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"Ron -"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"

There was no alternative.

"Ready?" Ron calls, his face pale but determined. "Here I go - now, don't hang around once you've won."

He steps forward, and the white queen pounces. She strikes Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashes to the floor - Hermione and (Y/n) scream but stay on their squares - the white queen drags Ron to one side. He looks as though he's been knocked out.

Shaking, Harry moves three spaces to the left.

The white king takes off his crown and throws it at Harry's feet. They had won. The chessmen part and bow, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, Harry and (Y/n) and Hermione charge through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he's - ?"

"He'll be alright," (Y/n) soothes, trying to convince herself, as well as Hermione.

"What do you reckon's next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare," Hermione begins.

"Flitwick must've put charms on the keys and McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive," (Y/n) continues.

"That leaves Quirrell's and Snape's," Hermione finishes.

They had reached another door.

"All right?" (Y/n) whispers.

"Go on."

(Y/n) pushes it open, her wand drawn.

A disgusting smell fills their nostrils, making the three of them pull their robes over their noses. Eyes watering, they see, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they tackled, out cold with a blood lump on its head.

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispers as they step carefully over one of its massive legs.

"Tell me about it," (Y/n) mutters.

(Y/n) pulls open the next door, the three of them hardly daring to look at what comes next - but there is nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," Harry says. "What do we have to do?"

They step over the threshold and immediately, a fire springs up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shoot up in the doorway leading onward. They are trapped.

"Look!" Hermione seizes a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry and (Y/n) look over her shoulder to read it:

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, Two of us will help you, whichever you would find, One among us seven will let you move ahead, Another will transport the drinker back instead, Two among our number hold only nettle wine, Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line. Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore, To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; Second, different are those who stand at either end, But if you would move onward, neither is your friend; Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Hermione lets out a great sigh, and Harry, amazed, sees that she and (Y/n) are smiling, the very last thing he feels like doing.

"Brilliant," says Hermione.

"This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle," (Y/n) continues.

"A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever," Hermione adds.

"But so will we, won't we?" Harry asks nervously.

"Of course not," says Hermione. "Everything we need is here on this paper, and with our Potions expert."

"Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple," (Y/n) says, then pulls the vial of Fire Protection Potion out of her pocket. "And this. Who knows which fire this'll get us through."

"But how do we know which of the seven we can drink?" Harry asks his friends.

"Give us just a minute," Hermione says, exchanging a look with (Y/n).

The two read the paper several times. Then walk up and down the line of bottles, exchanging soft words and pointing to them. At last, Hermione claps her hands.

"Got it," (Y/n) says. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire - towards the Stone."

Harry looks at the tiny bottle.

"There's only enough there for one of us," he says. "That's hardly one swallow."

They look at each other, (Y/n) fiddling with the top of the vial in her hand.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?" Harry asks and Hermione points to a rounded bottle at the end of the line.

(Y/n) walks over and uncorks her vial, studying it. It does look a lot like the smallest bottle's potion, (Y/n) thinks. She drains the little bottle in one gulp. She shivers, it felt like ice. She puts the empty bottle in her pocket and braces herself. She could see the black flames licking her body, but can't feel them. For a moment, all (Y/n) can see is nothing but dark fire, then, she's on the other side, in the last chamber.

There is already someone there - but it isn't Snape like the others though. It wasn't even Voldemort.

Word Count: 6766 words

#hermione granger x sister reader

[pikapeppa]

FenHawke &Varric friendship fluff: History

I was casually playing DA:I the other day and wandering around in the Hissing Wastes, and I got inspired to write some friendship fluff between Fenris, Rynne Hawke and their beloved BFF Varric. Set in my Fenris the Inquisitor universe.

~1700 words; read on AO3 instead.

************************

Fenris trudged over to the fire and sat next to Hawke with a groan. “I have finally succeeded in beating the sand out the creases in my clothes,” he announced. “For now, at least.”

Varric huffed. “At least you didn’t wear boots. I’m pretty sure I had enough sand in mine to build a castle.” He eyed his own bare feet in disgruntlement, and Fenris smirked; seeing Varric without boots on was a very rare occurrence. 

“Told you to wear sandals,” Hawke said without looking up from the tattered book in her lap.

Varric gave her a long-suffering look. “When have you ever seen me in sandals?”

“There’s no better time to start,” Hawke said. “Bare chest, bare feet — it’s a natural pairing, like peas and carrots.”

Despite her jocular tone, she didn’t lift her eyes from her book. Fenris eyed her curiously. “What are you reading that has you so preoccupied?”

She finally looked up, and her amber eyes were wide and bright with interest. “It’s the journal we found on that poor dwarven fellow who got bitten by a spider. It’s pretty incredible, actually. I mean, sad because he died, poor sod,” she said quickly, “but incredible what he was figuring out.” She turned to Varric. “Did you know there was an entire dwarven house that purposely left the deep roads to set up here on the surface?”

He shot her a chiding look. “Have you ever seen me write anything much about the Orzammar dwarves?”

Her smile became sheepish. “Er, no.”

“Then that’s how much I know about a dwarven house leaving the deep roads to set up on the surface,” he said dryly.

“All right, fine, it was a stupid question,” she admitted. “But listen to this: this Paragon Fairel fellow took his house out of the deep roads before the First Blight to hide some incredible weapon he invented, so the rest of the dwarves would stop using it against each other. Before the First Blight! That’s how many years ago now?” She frowned. “Wait, when was the First Blight again?”

Amused, Fenris answered her question. “In -395 Ancient.”

She batted her eyelashes. “Maker’s balls, you’re so smart. No wonder I married you.”

Varric rolled his eyes. “All right, so some dwarves settled on the surface over a thousand years ago.”

“Yes, but that’s not all,” Hawke said. “It sounds like they were prepared to fight a dragon even before they left the deep roads. The fellow who wrote this journal found an inscription and translated it like this:

From the Stone, have no fear of anything,

But the stone-less sky betrays with wings of flame.

If the surface must be breached, if there is no other way,

Bring weapons against the urtok, and heed their screams.

She looked at Fenris and Varric with wide eyes. “Urtok means ‘dragon’, according to this. And ‘wings of flame’? That can only mean a dragon too, right? They knew before they breached the surface that there would be a dragon to contend with. How did they know that?”

“A good guess, maybe?” Varric said.

Hawke lifted an eyebrow. “But if they had never left the deep roads before, how could they even guess at what they’d find on the surface — and with enough accuracy to know they’d find a fire-breathing dragon?”

Fenris tapped her knee. “Perhaps they knew already of the archdemons, even if the First Blight had not yet happened.”

Her eyes grew even wider. “Shit. You’re right. Maker’s balls, I didn’t even — I never thought about the archdemons breathing fire underground. Do you think they breathe fire underground?”

“Probably,” Varric said. 

She stared at him incredulously. “That’s insane.”

Fenris scoffed. “After everything we’ve seen, with the Titans and those ancient Sentinels at Mythal’s Temple and falling into the Fade, you think that a dragon breathing fire underground is insane?”

“I have to agree with the elf on this one,” Varric said.

Hawke burst out a laugh. “Listen to the two of you! Such grizzled and jaded men of the world! Maybe I’ve just retained my sense of childlike wonder.” Her smile widened. “Or maybe I’m just an idiot.”

Fenris tsked. “A very beautiful idiot,” he said, and he pinched her waist.

She squeaked in amusement and smacked his hand. “You certainly know how to flatter a girl. But really though, think about it: the entire history of this thaig, lost until now. And the Shaperate doesn’t know about it, or covered it up on purpose.”

Varric gave her a funny look. “Since when are you so preoccupied with dwarven history?”

“It’s not just dwarven history,” she said. “It’s… I don’t know.” She twisted her lips ruefully. “It’s rather fucked up how many people have lost such huge chunks of history, isn’t it? The dwarves, the elves… everyone who isn’t Chantry, really.”

“The Chantry is also unreliable with their history,” Fenris said. “They struck Shartan from the official Chant.”

She pulled a face. “Ugh, you’re right. That’s so fucked up, though. Everyone is so bloody casual with their histories. It’s so…” She trailed off with a frown, and Fenris eyed her with a pang of affection. Hawke was by no means the idiot she said herself to be, but it was unusual for her to get this pensive about history in particular. She tended to favour a happy-go-lucky focus on the present or the future, preferring to reserve her mental energy for discussions of magical theory instead of history.

She looked up at them with a little frown. “Even family histories or personal histories. There’s so much shit we can forget. I was named after a great-aunt or a grand-aunt or something, for example, but fuck knows who she even was anymore. Not that that’s any great loss of information, I don’t really care who I was named after. But at the same time, how can we say now what’s going to be important or not a hundred years from now?”

A rather melancholy silence ensued, which Fenris wasn’t sure how to break. He was starting to feel a bit melancholy and pensive himself. Hawke was right, after all; he, for instance, knew nothing more of his own family history than what Varania had told him at the Hanged Man several years ago. As he and Varania had never again contacted each other, it seemed that that was all Fenris would be fated to know.

“Oh balls,” Hawke said suddenly. 

Fenris looked up to find her face crumpled in apology. She sidled closer to him and took his hand. “Oh, Fenris, I’m sorry. I’m being an ass, aren’t I, talking about this family history shit?”

“No, it’s…” He trailed off before he could say it was all right. His lost memories would never really be all right, but they were also no longer the gaping wound that they once were. “I’ve made my peace with my lack of history,” he said instead. “You know this.”

She winced. “I know, I just… ugh, I’m sorry.” She looped her hand through his elbow and hugged his arm. “I’m being so boring and mopey.”

Varric chuckled. “You really are. You and the elf here trading roles for a while?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Fenris said dryly. 

“It really isn’t,” Hawke chirped. “No one but Fenris can fill the role of ‘most gorgeous elf in Thedas’.”

Fenris eyed her chidingly. “It is impossible for you to fill that role. You’re not an elf.”

She widened her eyes playfully. “Nothing gets past you, does it?” 

Fenris huffed in amusement, and Varric chuckled as well before speaking. “Well, I can cheer things up a little. At least we don’t have to worry about losing any of our history.”

“What do you mean?” Hawke asked.

“I mean that we have a perfectly accurate and compelling historian right here.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Fenris chuckled, and Hawke barked out a bright little laugh. “You’re talking about yourself. Of course you are.”

Varric did a little bow from his seated position. “You can both thank me anytime.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “For what? Making Hawke a notorious Thedas-wide celebrity?”

“No!” Hawke retorted. “For painting me as a charming hero and not the complete fool that I am, of course!” She shifted over and hugged Varric around the neck. 

He patted her back and smirked at Fenris. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll make you look good too in all of this Inquisition shit.”

Fenris sighed. “I appreciate the sentiment, I suppose.”

Hawke smiled sweetly at Varric. “When you write about the Inquisition, can you put in the story about how Fenris and Sera almost knocked Krem out with a stale cookie when they were on the roof that one time?”

“No,” Fenris said hastily. “Absolutely not. That was an accident!”

Varric ignored him. “It’s already written down, don’t worry,” he said to Hawke.

Fenris grunted. “Then you ought to include the time that Hawke asked Bull to teach her to throw a proper punch and nearly sprained her wrist on his unarmoured chest.”

She laughed and poked his thigh. “Hey, that’s unfair! Bull’s tits are so hard they might as well be armour. Dorian should have warned me!”

Varric snickered. “Don’t worry, I’ve got that one written down as well.”

Hawke clicked her tongue. “Well, in that case, you have to include that time that you tried to gamble against Solas and lost so badly that he took mercy on you by not taking your coat and your boots.”

Fenris snorted, and Varric pulled a face. “Aw, now that’s just mean to bring that up,” he complained.

Hawke giggled. They continued to tease each other with favourite stories of the past, both recent and remote, and Fenris smiled to himself as he listened to their laughter and their tales. In the grand scheme of things, the ties between a human mage, a Tevinter elf and a surface dwarf were too humble to survive the fickle nature of history and time. Not all histories were important enough to be written in the pages of a Chantry tome or carved in lyrium into the walls of Orzammar, after all. 

But as Fenris listened to Hawke and Varric laughing and exchanging tales and playful jabs just as they used to do ten years ago, he realized that even the most humble of histories could be infinitely precious. 

#fenris #fenris fic #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fhawris #f!hawris #varric tethras #fenrynne #pikapeppa writes

[mind-of-a-hardstan]

The Clock Strikes Twelve (Pt. 1)

Pairing: King!Namjoon x Detective!Reader, minor Seokjin x Jeongguk 

Genre: fantasy au, royalty au, detective au, demon au, magic au

Rating: M

Warnings: Descriptions of injury, demons, language, a bit of gore, smut in next chapter

Summary: When you and your partner are summoned to the Northern Kingdom, you don’t expect a case intriguing as you find. The king’s brothers face daily injuries and tiptoe the line of death, and the king would do anything to save them. Notorious for your success rate, you and Yoongi must find out what happens to the princes after midnight.

It goes less smoothly than you would want. 

Also on AO3

Word count: 11.9K

A/N: This is part of the “Twisted Fairytales: Members in Distress” project by @ksmutclub​. It’s based on “The Shoes that were danced to pieces” by Brothers Grimm. It’s the longest bitch I’ve ever written, and the second part will be up soon! Let me know what you think!! I worked very hard on this one. 

The sun hadn’t yet risen over the horizon when you and your partner had arrived at the palace gates. You were tired and sore and in desperate need of a bath, but the king had been anything but patient to meet you.

He’d greeted you personally at the gates, despite you and Yoongi being travel-weary and dusty. The sky had been slowly turning from grey to gold. The palace had been beautiful in this light – although it was beautiful in any light – and king Namjoon of the Northern Kingdom looked every bit as regal, beautiful and powerful as he had been described.

“Detectives,” he had a smooth voice, the type of voice that both calms and commands, “welcome to the North.”

The first time you’d met the king’s dark gaze didn’t feel like something you could forget.

His office was filled with this golden light now. It cast a strange glow over the heavy books filling the bookcases, the ebony furniture scattered around the room. A ray of sunlight caught the king’s eye. He looked serious, ready for business despite the early hour. But most of all, he looked tired.

His office smelled like paper and ink the first step you took into it. By the second step, you noticed the smell of leather, then the smell of dust, and then then the smell of autumn leaves.

There was another scent hanging in the air. It was something you couldn’t quite place, but it calmed your spirit immediately. You were almost inclined to follow it, to search for it, but your partner brought your attention back to the here and now.

“Your majesty,” Yoongi started when the king sat down on the ornate high-backed chair behind the enormous desk in the middle of the room. “Would you please explain the situation to us?”

The king looked at your partner with a raised brow. He sighed and rubbed over his neck. “As I’ve stated in my letter –”

“We don’t personally read the letters, your majesty,” you cut him off, realising how rude it might seem only after having done it. “We’re sent on the cases blindly.”

King Namjoon turned his questioning gaze to you, head cocked. “Why?” The question wasn’t unkind, but demanding. The man’s very being demanded respect, and it seemed like he knew it.

“We like to speak to people personally,” you replied professionally, “That way we have a better idea of what’s going on, if they’re lying.”

“Alright,” the king nodded. “I’ll relay the situation again. Two weeks ago, three of my brothers woke the whole palace with blood curdling screams an hour before dawn. When we got to them, they looked bad; they had wounds and they couldn’t speak. The injuries are… strange. My physicians have never seen anything like it. It’s happened every day since. Always exactly an hour before dawn, to the second.

They look worse every day. These… injuries take their toll and it seems like they don’t sleep at all, they’re constantly exhausted, they don’t eat, they barely drink. We don’t know what’s causing it and I don’t know how to help my brothers.”

King Namjoon was trying to relay the situation with professionalism; a straight face and a steady voice, but his words betrayed him. He was struggling.

The case itself was… intriguing. You felt sorry for the princes, but you couldn’t help giving in to the thrill of a good case. You glanced at your partner, who seemed equally as intrigued. Perhaps even delighted.  

One thing did catch your attention though. You opened your mouth to speak –

“Your majesty,” Yoongi beat you to it, “how many bothers do you have?”

You smiled inwardly, silently appreciating how you and your partner ticked the same.

The king hesitated before answering, and you expected him to lie. “Four,” he said. Truthful, to your surprise.

“I only recall three princes and a king?” your statement was uttered more as a question than anything else. King Namjoon fixed his eyes on you. You couldn’t read them.

By now the sun was fully over the line of the horizon. The light that filtered through the spotless window was now longer golden, but normal daylight. If the window was open, you might have heard a bird singing.

“I have four brothers, only three of them are recognised as princes, Hoseok, Jimin and Jeongguk,” the king explained, ”The fourth is my brother, but he is not a prince. He is an illegitimate child whom my mother kept a secret from the world. He was raised with us though, and he is still treated as royalty on these grounds.”

“I see,” Yoongi said and you could hear the cogs rattling in his head. “Your majesty, do you know what happens to the princes at night?”

The king fixed Yoongi with an irritated stare. “If I had, I wouldn’t have summoned you.”

“Why haven’t you posted a guard to watch them?” Yoongi challenged, not having it.

“Of course I have,” the king snapped. It was the most blatant display of emotion you’ve seen from him so far. “I’m not entirely useless, detective. Everyone inside the palace falls asleep by the time the clock strikes twelve. The whole palace shuts down.” Magic. This case was getting more intriguing by the second. You eyed your partner again, and he had a similar excited glint in his eye.

The king’s face, however, was dark with worry and a strange sort of fury.

“That’s… quite dangerous. Does it apply to the whole city or merely the palace?”

“Just the palace,” King Namjoon said, eyes back on you, “I’ve posted guards to keep watch outside of the palace walls, just in case. The moment they step foot onto the grounds, though, they just drop like they were shot, according to reports. They wake up in the morning unharmed and confused.”

“Your majesty, has the same happened this morning?”

The king looked back at you and this time his eyes were tired again. He absentmindedly rubbed over his throat. “Yes,” he said, “every day without fail.”

“May we see the princes? I would like to inspect their injuries.”

“Of course.” King Namjoon stood up and walked to the door, opening it for you. When you passed him, that scent passed your nose again and you could finally place it.

It was the king himself, and he smelled like open grassland right after a thunderstorm.

===

King Namjoon led you through the labyrinthine halls of the palace to a huge room with large windows letting in the morning light. The view was gorgeous, a beautiful scene of the palace garden and the river running its course behind the palace. You would have been inclined to approach the windows and admire the scenery, if your focus wasn’t one something else.

The room was stocked with beautiful cherry wood furniture and three big four-poster beds. On each bed lay a prince, each under a fluffy blanket and tucked in so carefully, hooked onto fluids. They all looked like they were on the brink of death.

Ghosts, shells… and nothing more.

All of them lay with their eyes open, barely blinking and staring into nothingness. If it hadn’t been for their shallow breathing, you might have thought they were dead.

A man sat on one of the beds, the one on the far side of the room. He was beautiful – truly beautiful – but his eyes were teary and he was stroking over one of the prince’s hair. He didn’t acknowledge you and Yoongi at all.

“My gods,” Yoongi whispered next to you, and you had to agree.

“They get worse every day. Jimin’s the worst off, we don’t know why.” Namjoon whispered, as if he didn’t dare to actually speak the words. He looked at the bed the stood roughly in the middle. Such sorrow in the King’s eyes. “His infections – well. It’s better when you see for yourselves.”

“What are you giving them?” Yoongi asked, pointing to the drips hanging next to their beds.

“Vitamins, electrolytes, a few painkillers. They don’t eat or drink, we had to come up with something.” Yoongi just hummed in response.

You looked at your partner. There was steel in his eyes, so little emotion. Just a front, you knew Yoongi too well. The victims and the crime scenes always stirred something in his soft heart. Yoongi locked eyes with you and understood your silent request. You’d tackle Jimin together, but first the other two.

The man in the room ran his knuckles over the prince’s cheek one last time before moving toward the door – toward you. He bowed to the king, who smiled at him, and then the man dipped his head in your direction, desperation in his eyes.

He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. Please, that look said, save my love. And then he was gone.

“May I?” you gestured to a bed that the man didn’t sit on, like a coward.

“Of course. That would be prince Hoseok, the eldest of us all.”

You moved into prince Hoseok’s line of sight and smiled when those tired eyes followed your movements. The prince could still observe at least. Could he speak?

“Hello, your Highness” you said softly, not wanting to startle the man. “My name is Y/n and I’m a detective. I’m here to help you. Can you speak?”

You heard Yoongi’s soft voice murmur on the other side of the room. He was speaking to the last prince, where the man had sat. You ignored him for now, focusing on where you were.

The prince blinked and swallowed, movements slow. He tried to smile, but his mouth just twitched awkwardly as if the muscles were too tired to function. He took a deep breath and then; “Yes,” he finally croaked out, voice breathy and broken, “but it’s – tiring.”

“That’s okay, don’t tire yourself out more. May I examine you, your Highness?” you asked, glancing at the king too. King Namjoon stood by the door, watching and listening, but giving you the space to work. He gave a slight nod and you turned your gaze back to prince Hoseok.

“Only if you… call me Hoseok,” he answered, words so slow. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips while he watched you. You couldn’t decide if he was being friendly or if he was being a flirt. Perhaps both.

You smiled back, deciding that you liked him. “Alright, Hoseok. I’m going to take the blanket off of you and poke around for a bit. Let me know as soon as something hurts, alright?” A slight nod, and then he closed his eyes, letting you do with him as you pleased.

You spared another glance at Yoongi, who was sat down next to the young prince, holding his hand as he spoke. Slow words, you could tell. But you couldn’t hear what he was saying; he was speaking too soft and the room was too big. Yoongi was listening though, so gentle.

You put down your satchel and gently removed the blanket from Hoseok’s body. Even though his hollowed cheeks were indication enough, you couldn’t help but be surprised at how thin he really was. He was nothing more than a bag of bones. His skin was pale, but there were harsh purplish red marks around his wrists.

Yoongi gasped loudly from across the room, but you didn’t react. You had your own prince to worry about now, you’d ask Yoongi about his soon enough.

You poked and prodded Hoseok for a bit more, but you found nothing else out of the ordinary. Just those ugly bruises on his wrists.

Until you got to his feet. 

Every drop of air left your lungs when you uncovered the prince’s feet, along with a small little sound of surprise, horror, disgust.

“Heaven, save us.”

The soles of Hoseok’s feet were covered in angry blisters and nasty looking boils, everything red due to inflammation. There were ugly blue and purple bruises all over his feet and ankles. What stood out most, however, was that the liquid dripping out of the boils were an ugly, dark purple. It smelled like rotten meat.

You said a small prayer to the moon, and then went on in silence.

You produced a tiny little phial from your satchel and gently scraped a bit of the liquid into it. Hoseok let out a tiny moan of pain, and you murmured an apology. You and Yoongi would examine it in silence later, because this shit sure as hell wasn’t normal.

“Hoseok,” you said softly, “what happened to your feet?”

Hoseok opened his mouth, but shut it just as quickly, as if some invisible force physically shut him up. The prince swallowed, and then simply shook head. His eyes were big and filled with pure, unbridled fear.

“It’s okay,” you gently lay your knuckles on his cheek, “take a deep breath for me. You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.”

Hoseok breathed deep before talking again, “I can’t.” You simply smiled at him, and then shuffled through your satchel. “Detective,” Hoseok mumbled after a few seconds, voice strained and scared.

“Yes?” you looked at him and gently lay a comforting hand in his.

“I want to… but…” another deep, tired breath, “we’re not… allowed.”

You smiled at him and nodded in understanding. “It’s okay. We’ll get to the bottom of this, yeah?”

Not allowed. You swallowed and pulled out another small phial from your satchel, this time filled with a shimmering white dust. You didn’t need to cast a detection spell, the use of magic was obvious. You just needed to be sure what kind of magic was used.

You sprinkled the dust over Hoseok’s head, expecting it to turn grey, expecting dark magic. You watched with a clenched jaw as it turned black instead.

Demonic power.

A demon was among these humans, however it got out. A lion among sheep.

“Don’t worry, Hoseok. We’ll figure it out,” you whispered again and lay a comforting hand on his hair. “Rest for a bit.” You covered Hoseok with the blanket and moved back to Yoongi, who seemed to be done with Jeongguk too.

The king motioned to step closer, to talk, but you help up a hand to stop him. You needed to speak to your partner first. He frowned, hand at his throat, but he stayed put.

“Heaven’s fucking mother, the godsforsaken feet?!” Yoongi whisper yelled. You nodded solemnly. “It looked like they walked over acid,” he went on, rubbing a hand over his face.

“’Godsforsaken might be right…” You bit your lip, “I checked the magic, Yoongi. The dust turned black.”

“Black,” Yoongi stated with a blank look. You nodded. “Fuck, are you telling me there’s a demon running around?”

“It seems like it,” you said, “the prince also said that he wasn’t allowed to say anything, I think this is more than just some sort of curse.”

“Yeah, no shit. The kid over there was crying when he tried to talk, but it was like his mouth was glued shut and fuck all came out. All I got out of him was something about punishment. He looked so tired, Y/n…”

“I know, I don’t think they’ll last much longer, with whatever’s going on. Did you take a sample of the purple stuff?”

“Yeah, I’ll set up the lab later today. Did yours have the fucked up wrists too?” You nodded again. “Fuck. It looks like they were tied up or something. I took a sample of the dead skin there, too. Maybe we could figure out what they were tied up with.”

“Good.” You gestured to the last bed, “Shall we?” Yoongi nodded.

Jimin did end up looking worse. He barely reacted to either of you. Along with the marks on his wrists, there was an angry looking purple ring around his neck, dotted with nasty blisters and missing skin. It looked like a bad burn. The soles of his feet barely had normal skin left, just purple pus leaking out.

“Heaven’s fucking mother,” Yoongi cursed when he tried to take a sample and Jimin nearly screamed. His mouth was open, eyes closed, and no sound came out. “This poor fucking soul, gods.”

You tested the magic again with the white powder. It had the same outcome as last time: the powder turned black.

You were about to move when Jimin grabbed your wrist with a weak hold. He tried to look at you, but his eyes wouldn’t focus and kept closing. You kneeled next to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m here,” you said softly, trying to soothe the broken kid. “I’m here, what do you need?”

“Tae…” the prince tried before his energy caved. He closed his eyes and a dry sob wracked his tired body. He kept his eyes closed but opened his mouth again, speaking in a wheeze. “Help… tae… huu –”

Tae. It was a name – partially at least. Was it a person or a creature? Were they the cause of this? Did they need help, or did Jimin need their help? You caught Yoongi’s eye, he heard it too. You filed the clue away for later.

When you were finally done, satchels packed up and prince neatly covered, you approached the impatient looking king. He was fiddling with his collar by now.

“Excuse the wait, your Majesty. You probably have a busy schedule,” you said with an apologetic smile.

“No need to apologise detective, I’ve cleared my morning for you.”

“How kind of you, your Majesty,” Yoongi said, sounding half sarcastic and half surprised. A ghost of a smile appeared on the king’s lips, like he wanted to supress it, but only half succeeded.

“Now, what can you tell me?”

“We’ve only just collected evidence ourselves,” you said, “We need to examine it before we can tell you anything for sure.” The king nodded, but his jaw was clenched. He seemed so desperate, so tired of not knowing, being helpless.

He looked like he was sleeping as much as his brothers, even though you knew that was untrue.

Before you could stop yourself, you laid a hand on the king’s shoulder. For a single moment you didn’t speak to Namjoon, King of the Northern Kingdom. For a moment, he wasn’t a simple client. You looked into those sharp and terrified eyes and you spoke to the man beneath.

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll save them.”

“I’d do anything…” The king closed his eyes for a second, a moment of vulnerability, before locking eyes with you again. This time they were serious again, focused and professional. “If you have any news,” he said on his way out of the room, “notify the closest servant immediately.”

===

You got to work as soon as the servants led you to your shared chamber. The room itself was beautiful and exactly how you requested; two big desks relatively close to each other, big walking space, two beds, en suite bathroom and big windows. The view was beautiful too, overlooking the yellowing garden and the city beyond.

You didn’t take the time to admire the scenery, though. Yoongi claimed one desk to himself, getting started on setting up his lab. You threw your suitcase next to the other, piling books, paper and pens onto it.

With the clinking of Yoongi’s equipment as background noise, you listed everything that you gathered so far, and started doing research, taking notes along the way.

You’d worked with demons before. They were night creatures, and they preferred the exact times that the king had mentioned. They couldn’t do anything on their own, they needed to possess a body and for that, they needed to be summoned.

Certain people, perfect blood, protection runes, summoning circles, magic, demon trials –

You were in the middle of tracing an intricate rune when Yoongi spoke up from the silence, “Y/n, come over here for a second.”

He was sat on a three legged stool, looking for all the world like a chemist. They’d be close in assuming that, but Yoongi would beat someone with a book if he heard them.

“That’s Master fucking Potioneer to you, asshole!” was a common line of his. “I didn’t study this shit for ten years for you to be ignorant.”

He had the phials containing the purple puss laying on the table, scribbles on a writing block, various strange things scattered about. You pretended not to notice the fairy dust. Those poor things…

“What?” you asked, leaning over the desk.

“Okay so we can both agree that this purple shit is something neither of us has seen before, right?” Yoongi started, pointing to the phials.

“Yeah,” you agreed, motioning for him to go on.

“See, there’s a reason for that,” Yoongi explained, completely in work mode, “I dissected the puss, and the usual stuff was in there. Yaknow, like normal pus, but then I got to the bottom of why it’s purple. It’s about their souls. You know what pus is, right? Dead white blood cells that rush to a wounded area, and then it also sort of drains it?” You nodded. “This is like that, except that the reason it’s purple is because there are flecks of their souls in there, trying to mend the damage and dying by it.”

“Hold on,” you interjected, holding up a hand, “they hurt their feet and now their souls are trying to heal it? Why?”  

“It’s the other way around. I think their souls were hurt and it projected onto their bodies. It gets worse.” Yoongi held up another phial with white flecks in it. “I took samples of the skin on their wrists and Jimin’s neck to see what they were tied with. What I thought were bruises turns out to be burns. It’s purplish for the same reason as the feet. They’re tied up with hot metal, something like handcuffs – perhaps chains. But… it’s definitely not their physical bodies.”

“Not their – so their souls. Their souls were chained up.”

“Not ‘were,’ they still are. I have a suspicion that that’s why they can’t talk. Someone has control over their souls.”

You took a microscope slide from off the table and looked at the tiny amount of blue flecks on it. It was a strange thought that you were holding tiny pieces of dead soul in your hand.

“So their souls are being held captive in hell, I assume, since demons don’t typically have access to other realms. They’re not allowed to say anything about it or they’re gonna be punished, according to the youngest. We’ve discovered that demonic powers have been used, so it’s safe to assume that they were kidnapped,” you summed up. Yoongi nodded. Well, fuck. This case was getting more interesting by the second. More dangerous too. This had to be one powerful demon, ripping their souls from their bodies like that.

“That about sums it up,” Yoongi said.

“According to the books,” you started relaying what you’ve learned, “demons can’t do any harm in the human realm on their own. Possession is some complicated procedure, and not everyone’s compatible. The demon has to be summoned first, but apparently they can still possess even years after they’re summoned. Until then they just… roam.”

“Yes, I remember,” Yoongi interjected, waving his hand, “the Western Witches summoning demons left, right and centre, some demons escaped, the witches were burned, all that jazz.”

“Right, so there’s no way to know if the demon is new or old. It doesn’t matter, anyway. A normal demon could possess anyone willing or scared enough to let them in, like the one we had to deal with last year, but I think it’s safe to assume that this one is a bit more powerful, which means they need a stronger host. These demons also have… a taste. A standard, if you will.”

You threw a book at Yoongi, and he caught it flawlessly.

“That book lists the specifications. I thought the demon was some kind of upper-class demon, like our version of a rich lord, or something. It did damage, but I didn’t realise how extraordinary the damage was. Hurting a human’s body sure takes something, but hurting a human’s soul like that… it takes a lot of power.” Yoongi nodded along with you while flipping through the book. “I think it’s safe to assume that it’s royalty.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi nodded again, still reading, “probably. So it’s only compatible with a human who also has royal blood. Bonus points if they had magical blood too.” He looked up, thinking. “Maybe an Eastern or Western royal witch?”

“Maybe. It’ll definitely make a good host. Another book said that royal demons also prefer tainted hosts.” Yoongi closed the book and looked back up with a frown. You elaborated. “I mean like, disgraced royals, bastard children, trauma victims. People who have some sort of… I don’t know, black dot on them, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, yeah it does,” Yoongi nodded.

“I’m currently looking up different spells and runes. We’re gonna need to pull out all the stops with this one, I think. I found a few banishing runes, but I’m going to need a bit more time.”

“I don’t think banishing the demon is going to be the problem. If we figure out who it is, an exorcism is the least of our problems, we’ve done it before. But if those kids are in hell, how do we get them back?” Yoongi said in thought. You nodded with him.

“I thought the same. I’m researching that too, but I can’t find any cases like this.”

The room went silent for a moment. You breathed it in, held it in your lungs. You needed a moment. You were speaking about this like you would speak about a missing jewel, but the picture of Jimin’s bony hand grabbing yours, the man looking at you with desperation, the fear in Hoseok’s eyes, the wail in Jeongguk’s voice –

“We need to talk to the king,” Yoongi said, pulling you out of your head. Judging by the knowing look in his eyes, it was intentional. “We need to find out who or what ‘Tae’ is, too. Perhaps the king could tell us.”

“Yeah.” You shook your head and stood up. Yoongi followed suit.

===

A servant, clearly under strict orders, took you to the king immediately. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon, causing the golden glow from this morning to appear again, only more beautiful.

King Namjoon was in his office, where you had had your first conversation with him, hours ago. This time, however, he was not alone. There were two men inside, speaking with him. You recognised one of them, the one standing. He had been in the room with the youngest prince this morning, crying by his bed.

“Ah, detectives,” the king said. He had a welcoming smiled on his face, surprisingly warm. Was a king not supposed to be cold? To inspire fear? That was what you had been taught, wasn’t it? “You have news, I assume?”

The two other men eyed you and your partner with interest. Yoongi shuffled in slight discomfort under the scrutiny. He never liked nosy royals.

“Your majesty,” you said and dipped your head, “Excuse the disturbance, you seem to be in a meeting?”

“Please, don’t apologise. This is Seokjin, my most trusted advisor and friend,” he said, and gestured to the man you met earlier today. You offered him a smile, and he returned it with his whole heart, too honest for an aristocrat. You liked him. “And this is Taehyung, my brother. You may call me Namjoon among this crowd. We were discussing the death of my cousin, the letter had arrived today.”

Taehyung. Bells bells bells. Taehyung – Tae –

Tae, help, Tae, help, Tae, help –

“Tae…” Yoongi said out loud after a moment, like he wanted to test the word on his tongue. You eyed him, thoughts running just like his seemed to.  

So Jimin was talking about his brother. Did he want you to help Taehyung, or did he want Taehyung to help him? Was Taehyung the cause of this? Did Jimin beg for help against Taehyung?

“Only my closest call me that,” Taehyung said with a kind smile. He had a charm about him, childish but captivating. You couldn’t imagine him being the cause of this.

“Yes,” Yoongi finally spoke up with a low voice, “We know.” Taehyung looked at Yoongi strangely, but before he could say anything, you cut him off.

“I’m sorry for your loss, your majesty,” you said, offering the king a gentle smile. He waved his hand.

“Thank you, but I hardly knew him. It’s not a personal loss, as sad as that sounds.” You nodded in understanding, because you did understand. Politics weren’t exactly warm, and family gatherings weren’t exactly for fun.

Seokjin stepped forward before the conversation could continue. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” the man said, “I hope you’ll forgive my rudeness this morning, but Eastern courtesy forbids me from making new acquaintances where the sick must heal.”

“Of course, I understand,” you replied with a smile of your own. You never understood the Eastern uses, but you knew them all by heart anyway. Yoongi was still staring at Taehyung. He was trying to spot something, trying to explain something to himself, and Taehyung just looked on in confusion.

 “Are you close with the young prince?” you asked Seokjin, redirecting your attention back to him. You knew the answer, but you wanted to hear from him. Seokjin’s smile, however, changed to something bitter and sad. A sign of something out of place, something broken and aching inside him.

“Yes,” he said and then there was a beat of silence. “I, uh, our wedding was supposed to be a few days ago.” A joyless laugh bubbled up his throat. “I guess you can say he slept through the ceremony.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said. You had nothing to offer him but a hand on his shoulder and half a promise, so you gave him just that. “I promise, my lord, I will do my best to get your prince back to you.”  

“Both of us,” Yoongi chimed in gently. You glanced at him. He seemed to be done with sizing the non-prince up.

“You may call me Seokjin,” he directed the statement at both of you, “I never liked these fancy titles.” You smiled and nodded, and so did Yoongi. Yoongi even whipped out his wide, gummy smile. He liked Seokjin too.

You approached Taehyung, who had watched in silence, but before you could say anything, he spoke up, “If you call me ‘lord’ after you called me ‘Tae,’ I’ll tell them to chop off your head.”

It was such a playful tone that caught you so off guard that you giggled. You caught yourself and bowed your head. “Taehyung,” you said, “I’m Y/n.”

“Yes, I know. My brother has been raving about your arrival all week. It got worse after today, though.” Taehyung had a mischievous glint in his eye, and he laughed when a pencil hit his cheek. The king was pointing a threatening finger at him, eyes narrowed. You had to smile at the careless display of playfulness, of affection.

“That’s very good to know,” you mused, “I heard about you from your brother, Prince Jimin. I was rather curious about you.”

Taehyung’s face went from friendly and charming to serious and wide-eyed. “Jimin? What did he say?”

“I’m not sure yet,” you cocked your head, “I’ll tell you as soon as I am.” Taehyung frowned at this, but didn’t question you.

You expected Yoongi to introduce himself too, but he didn’t. He stayed near the door and kept his mouth shut. You nearly rolled your eyes, but left him be.  

“Detectives,” the king said after a moment of silence, rubbing at his neck with a hopeful look in his eye, “You have news?”

“It’s… rather sensitive,” you said and looked at the two men in the room. Seokjin sat back down and turned to you. Taehyung looked uncomfortable and unhappy.

“That’s alright, I trust them and so can you,” the king said with a smile. You nodded, not wanting to meddle. “Lay it on me, detectives.”

===

Dust and sweat from your travels still stuck to your skin uncomfortably, and you were in desperate need of a bath. By the time the servant showed you the towels, different soaps and how to adjust the temperature, the sun was gone.

The bathing room was huge. The tub was built into the floor, already filled with steaming water. The room itself was dark, made of bare stone and decorated with reds and oranges. Candlelight made the shadows in the room come alive. Steam curled to the ceiling, dancing with the fire in an almost hypnotising way.

It was the perfect place to think.

You melted when you stepped into the water. The temperature was perfect, the water smelled so good, the room was so quiet. You lay back, submerging your ears and closing your eyes.

You were in the king’s office when the servants had brought dinner. The food would have been amazing if it weren’t for the fact that you were too focussed on the discussion to even taste it.

King Namjoon had handled the information better than another person might have handled it. He’d dropped his head in his hands when Yoongi told him that his brothers’ souls were trapped in hell, and he stayed like that for a full minute, but he had no anger outburst, no denial, no screaming.

Seokjin had turned white as a sheet, but he didn’t move. His face had went slack, and it was like all feeling had seeped out of his body. You could tell, because you knew what that was like. Taehyung, on the other hand, had cried. He’d hid his face behind his hands and just cried. It was Yoongi who laid an arm around his shoulder.

“I need time,” the king had said, “to think. I’ll meet you tomorrow morning. We’ll figure out what to do then, but for now I need a moment.” 

You took a moment, too. A moment to breathe, to think without having to come up with a solution, to just let your mind process. You focused on washing yourself, focused on your own body, before laying back and shutting down.

You breathed deep, letting the scents in the room calm you. Thoughts flitted through your head in no order and with no rhyme or reason.

Help my brothers – souls were hurt – tae – I can’t – possession of a human body – royal blood – kidnapped – married – neck – purple – help – chained up – open grassland – home – scratch – last stroke of midnight –

Last stroke of midnight.

You were gone when the clock chimed twelve.

===

Waking up in this castle was the most unpleasant thing you’ve experienced in your life. At first you hadn’t realised what it was that woke you in the first place. The sun wasn’t up yet, but the birds were awake, singing their hearts out. It took you a second to process that it wasn’t the birds that woke you.

It was screaming.

It wasn’t coming from a specific place, though. It was like it was coming from inside of your head, even though it was unmistakeably the voices of the princes.

The second thing you couldn’t understand was why you were so cold. Your teeth started chattering the moment you registered, but you’d been shivering before you even woke up. There was a rather logical explanation for that as well: you were floating in freezing water. You’d passed out in the bathtub.

And well. There had been better mornings in your life.

By the time your feet were warm enough in your boots to walk to the source of the noise, Yoongi was already in front of the door and talking to Seokjin. Neither of them looked any better than you did – dark rings under their eyes, puffy cheeks, both holding coffee. Yoongi was also holding a suitcase with his travel-laboratory.

Seokjin looked haunted, though. Not just tired, but haunted. You couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to wake up to your lover’s screams every day.

He wore it surprisingly well, given the circumstances.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Yoongi said with a snicker. “You look like a sewer rat, princess.” You scowled at him, consciously touching your still damp hair.

“Fuck off,” you snarled, “you look like you’ve been eaten by sewer rats, so shut up.”

“Did you…” Seokjin stopped himself to reconsider his wording. “Why are you wet?”

“I fell asleep in the bathtub,” you said with a smile as sweet as arsenic and Yoongi cackled like the little bitch witch he was.

“Oh,” Seokjin said, surprised and barely supressing his own laugh, “did Namjoon not warn you about the… uh, the curfew?”

“He did, now can we please move on to more important things than my choice of bed?” Yoongi just snorted in agreement.

The princes looked worse than they had the previous day. Hoseok was squirming and crying and sobbing with a broken voice. His wrists were bleeding, and you immediately called for Yoongi, who knew more about the wounds. You refused to fuck this up yourself.

“Can’t,” he just growled out, frantically fussing with Jimin’s feet. He was still screaming, but his voice had given out. You’d dared to look, and you were glad you had a strong stomach.

You dealt with Hoseok’s wrists yourself as best as you knew how. You applied the balsam that Yoongi had handed you for his feet. You talked to him a bit, not needing him to answer, but just to let him know you were there.

There wasn’t much more that you could do right now, and it unsettled you.

Seokjin was taking care of Jeongguk on his request. Yoongi had just given him the balsam too and told him what to do. The youngest seemed to be the best off, though. He was crying and hurt, but his wrists weren’t bleeding and his feet looked better than the others.

“We – we dance…” Hoseok suddenly breathed out, breath heavy. You looked down in surprise, not expecting him to speak. He breathed deep and then pushed the next part out, “They make us… dan – nce.”

“Gods…” you whispered, and squeezed his hand in comfort.

When two physicians came in, you were already done and the princes were sleeping. Hoseok was clutching your hand desperately, so you let him hold on while you were reading and Yoongi was still fussing. He had taken down the IVs and dissected them, grumbling all the way. When he saw them, standing at the door with confused faces, Yoongi nearly threw a vase at them. He would have, if you hadn’t grabbed it with a “down boy!”

“I should curse you both. I should fucking murder you both.” He was seething. “The next time either of you put opium in an IV, I swear to every God that I will hunt you down and wrap your colon around your neck.”

They froze, eyes wide at the tiny man with wild eyes and needles in his hands.

“Just go.” It was Seokjin this time. He was still on Jeongguk’s bed, running his hands through his hair while the young prince slept. The men bowed without a word and then left, nearly tripping over their own feet. Silence followed. You stared after the men with amused eyes and shook your head, but went back to your research.

“I’m gonna need to figure out another concoction to give them,” Yoongi mumbled, lost in thought.

“Seokjin?” you said after another moment of Yoongi’s grumbling.

“Hmm?”

“Did anything weird happen to Jeongguk before this?” Hoseok was clutching your hand again, fingers flexing every now and then. You ran your other hand through his hair, too, trying to soothe what you could.

“Nothing that made me think that this would happen,” Seokjin said, looking at Jeongguk like he was fragile. Like he loved him, like he was hurting. “He started having nightmares, started having this rash on his wrists. We thought it was stress, you know? What with the wedding and all. Then he stopped sleeping altogether, said the nightmares were too bad. He was paranoid, wouldn’t let me touch him. His wrists stopped itching and started hurting, and the next thing I knew, he screamed his throat sore the next morning. All three brothers at the same time.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, “This must have hit hard.” Seokjin smiled bitterly, eyes just a bit teary.

“Yeah,” he said, voice thick, “Tae didn’t stop crying for a whole hour after you left. I didn’t see Namjoon afterward, either.”

“And you?”

“I refused.” There was this look in his eye; stubborn and angry. He gripped the prince’s hair a little possessively. “I cried enough when I wasn’t allowed to have him. I gave up everything – my family and my titles, even my dignity – to be with Jeongguk. I won’t cry again until I lose him, and he’s still very fucking much here.” 

You wanted so say more, but you were interrupted with loud, steady footsteps and the smell of an open grassland wrapped around you like a blanket. You ignored the thought that it smelled like home.

“Detectives,” the king greeted upon entering the room. You noticed only then that the sun was rising over the horizon and that the king was bathed in gold. He had a questioning look in his eye, and a halfway amused smile on his face. “Does someone in here know why I found one of my best physicians crying in the hallway?”

Seokjin honest to god snickered and you had to suppress a smirk of your own.

“Yeah,” Yoongi said distractedly, still busy with his concoction. “Dickheads get thrown out. Wonder what happened to the other one.”

The king’s face morphed into a completely amused smile. “The other one is the reason why I’m here, the little tattletale.”

Despite yourself, you giggled, and it earned you a playful smile from the king. Seokjin looked him in the eye and pouted. “Are you going to scold us, oh high majesty king Namjoonie?”

King Namjoon snorted, collapsed onto a chair and rubbed his neck again. You were beginning to think that it was a nervous tick of his. “Please consider refraining from making my staff cry,” he joked, voice monotone and almost robot-like. You couldn’t help but be surprised at the easy-going display. “How are they?”

“Worse than yesterday,” Yoongi said, “but they’re surprisingly fucking persistent in surviving.”

“They’re taking good care of them,” Seokjin said with a sincere voice.

“Do you have a plan, detectives?” the king asked tentatively. “I think we need to discuss the course of action. This is nothing to be taken lightly.”

The sun was moving slowly over the horizon, bathing the whole room in golden light now. Yoongi put down what he was busy with, a bright red potion now, and turned to the king.

“For now, I’m making a potion to replace the IV that your incompetent doctors hooked them up to. It’ll give them more strength and help ease their pain. It’ll keep them alive until we save them.”

“I’m researching runes for that to happen, your majesty–”

“I thought we were past that,” the king interrupted. You blinked in confusion and disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you to call me Namjoon, when no one’s around, I don’t mind.” The king had a kind smile on his face, dimples on full display and the sight made you stop for just a moment, just a split second, to admire it, before your brain started up again.

“Right. Well, I’m going to need to construct a rune of my own to bring your brothers back. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, but I can only find books on what the symptoms were. I don’t think a witch was ever present to help the victims. At least, it hasn’t been recorded,” you frowned at the books scattered next to Hoseok’s bed. It may have been recorded, but the Westerners destroyed all their witch’s journals during the trials. “Yoongi already made a potion that will force the demon out, and I have rune to banish it after, but we’re going to need to find the demon first. Or, the person it possessed.”

“Alright, and how do we find them?”

“We know that they roam the halls of the castle after midnight. They’d be the only one awake,” Yoongi answered, having moved away from his lab with the potion in hand, now a soft pink.

“Sure, but how do you plan to spot them if no one can stay awake?” Seokjin asked.

“We don’t plan to spot them,” you said with a smile, “We plan to catch them. Yoongi and will set up traps all over the palace in the hopes that it’ll hold the demon until morning.”

Namjoon shook his head solemnly. “We’ve tried traps, and we found them all piled on my throne, in pieces.”

“You haven’t tried runes and poisons. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?” you said, hands toying with the book still in your lap.

Yoongi was busy hooking the princes up to the new fluids. Hoseok swallowed and grimaced in discomfort when the needle pierced his skin. His eyes were open, he’d been listening the entire time. He looked at you, then to the other side of the room, then back to you. He seemed panicked.

“What do you need?” you asked. Hoseok just shook his head violently and then closed his eyes tightly.

“Can’t.”

You accepted it and let him hold your hand in an iron grip again. It was frustrating to have three people with the answers in their eyes, and they weren’t allowed to say a thing.

“The hardest part is going to be bringing your brothers back,” you said, “It’s easy to banish a soul. It’s hard as fuck to bring it back. Banishing the demon won’t bring them back, it’ll just prevent the whole ordeal from happening again.”

Namjoon looked at Hoseok with pursed lips and a clenched jaw. “Yeah.”

“Namjoon,” Yoongi said, “who was Taehyung’s mother?”

“The daughter of some lord with whom my father did business in the West,” Namjoon explained, “She was thrown out when she got pregnant, so my father took her home with him. My mother was less than impressed. The woman died during birth.”

“A royal bastard with Western blood,” Yoongi said and looked at you.

“It fits,” you agreed. He was the perfect recipe for disaster.

“I’ll ignore the slur,” Namjoon grit out, “but do tell me why my brother is suddenly a suspect.”

“Demons have standards, and Taehyung fits them perfectly,” Yoongi simply said, “There’s a good chance he’s the possessed one.”

“Taehyung is just as happy and easy-going as he always was, given the circumstances. I’d know if my brother was possessed,” Namjoon said, a bit sourly. You shook your head, and he fixed you with a challenging stare. “Do you disagree, detective?”

“Yes,” you said, “Demons hide during the day, you wouldn’t notice anything wrong with your brother before midnight.”

The king stood up, clearly done with the conversation. With neutral eyes, he said, “If you need anything, I’ll be in my office. I have a meeting soon.”

===

You hadn’t stayed next to Hoseok long after the king had left. You’d spent hours setting up as many traps as you could with Yoongi. It was a shot in the dark, and Yoongi was still working on a potion that would keep you awake.  

You’d spotted Taehyung too, but he was in a rush and just sent you a quick wave and a bright, toothy smile. You somehow couldn’t imagine a demon being inside the boy, but demons hid during the day, and there wouldn’t be a trace of it. Which meant that Taehyung was still a viable suspect.

The rest of the day was spent working on a rune to bring the princes back. You’d decided to try a summoning circle of sorts, but personalised to each prince to avoid summoning demons instead of princes. Perhaps if you enriched it with something they loved, something they were passionate about.

Namjoon would know.

Yoongi barely reacted when you left the room, wrapped up in his own research. You only realised that it was dark after you left your room. Torches were lit along the palace walls, flames dancing with the wind coming through the open windows. A guard pointed you in the direction of the king, and you quickly followed the long corridors, not wanting to waste time.

If it was already dark then midnight wasn’t far off.

The door you stopped at was big and heavy and… beautiful. There were flowers carved on the dark wood, and vines woven into themselves in a very familiar pattern.

You knocked.

“Who is it?” came Namjoon’s voice.

“Detective Y/n!” The door swung open and your breath caught in your throat.

You told yourself that it had nothing to do with the fact that Namjoon was shirtless, because he was. He was shirtless and the first thing you saw when that door opened was his broad chest, that golden skin, that gorgeous –

But no, that’s not why your breath caught in your throat. Even if you noticed the red ring around his neck seconds after your knees went weak.

“Oh, gods,” you breathed.

“It’s rude to stare, detective,” Namjoon said, clearly a bit smug. You would have laughed. You would have laughed and then came up with something to throw him off guard, like maybe I just don’t like depriving myself of beautiful things.

Instead, your blood started to boil under your skin. Because the reason for your staring wasn’t his physique, instead it was the reddish-purple ring winding around his neck, and you didn’t know what to do with the fear that crept into your bones.

“You idiot,” you growled, and the king’s smirk fell off his face. You pushed him into the room and slammed the door shut behind you.

“Fuck – what?” Namjoon stumbled, nearly fell on his ass, but caught himself.

“You absolute fucking idiot,” you pointed your finger at his neck, “Do you know what that is?! Of course you do, because we told you everything about it yesterday, so tell me, king, why you didn’t fucking tell me.”

Namjoon’s face went serious in a way that was almost severe. “You forget your place, detective, I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Don’t hit me with that bullshit,” you snarled, “You told me to drop honorifics, so I dropped honorifics. Now tell me about that wound or you can save your own goddamn brothers and yourself.”

The king raised his eyebrows and stayed quiet for a second. You stared him down, and after a second a ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

“I could go to war with the East for that tone, you know?” Namjoon said, voice now back to normal. He sat down on of the plush chairs scattered about the outrageously big room.

“Our company’s from the West.”

“Yes, but you aren’t, are you, Y/n?”

Your blood went cold. “Say what you want to say, king.”

“I’m not threatening you, I’m poking fun. But I know you’re the Eastern King’s niece. And with his son dead, you’re the next in line, aren’t you?” He leaned back on his palms, fully exposing his front and the stretch of that chest –

“I suggest you keep that information to yourself,” you said lowly, “because I know everything about this castle and runes are easy to rig.”

The king’s smile widened, he was enjoying this. “I told you, I wasn’t threatening you, so I beg the same courtesy. I just felt like I should be honest about the knowledge I possess.”

“Yes, yes, fine,” you waved your hand in an irritated way, “Can we get to the part you weren’t honest about?” You gestured to the inflamed skin around the base of his neck again.

Namjoon took a deep breath and you didn’t look at his chest. “I passed out at my desk the first night of the curfew. I woke up with the ring around my neck. It hasn’t changed since, doesn’t get worse or anything.”

“Where are you normally after twelve?”

“In here. I would have been in here the first night too, if I’d known. I make sure I’m in my room before twelve. I don’t want the wrong people to find me in the wrong places.

“Do you want to know the only goddamn reason you’re not writhing in agony the way your brothers are right now?” you said darkly. The king raised his eyebrow in question. “It’s two things. You know that door you hide behind? It’s got a protection rune on it, a pretty fucking good one too. But do you know how easy it is to break that rune? A sturdy knife should do the trick.”

You stepped closer, so that Namjoon had to crane his neck to be able to look at you. “Go on,” he said, and you hated that his voice got lower, hated that you noticed.

“The second is luck. Because your dumbass is lucky that I figured it out before the demon did.”

You turned away from the king and scanned the room for a piece of paper and a pencil. The room really was ridiculously big. A bed in the corner, a sofa with chairs, a large desk with a stool, side boards and wardrobes scattered about.

You bounded to the desk, and grabbed the pencil laying ready. You used the first piece of paper you could find and scrawled a rune, accurate to the last degree on pure muscle memory. You crumpled it up and held it out to a confused looking Namjoon.

“Make yourself at home?” the king said with an unsure smile. You rolled your eyes.

“Swallow.”

“What?”

“Take this piece of paper and swallow it. It’s ten minutes of unconditional protection. I’m going to leave this room, I’m going to gather my things, and then I’m going to come back, and I’m going to examine you so that I know what the fuck is going on.”

The king nodded and did as you told him.

You grumbled all the way to your room. Yoongi was at his desk, where you left him, and watched with a frown when you packed your things with a scowl.

“Who pissed in your teacup?” Yoongi asked.

“The king has a red ring around his neck,” you said, “So now I’m going over there to try and examine it. And protect him.”

“Should I come?”

“Tomorrow, I think. There’s not much time left. I know what to look out for.”

Yoongi nodded and let you go.

===

Having Namjoon lay shirtless and at your mercy was an experience. When you scraped a piece of dry skin off of the red area, he made a groan of discomfort that your dumb brain immediately associated with something else.

You were a professional, though, and you acted like it.

“Gods, you’re lucky,” you whispered when you packed up your tools. Namjoon sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He looked at you, fully focused. “Your soul is still with you, unlike your brothers. They chained you, though. One false move from you, one yank from them at the right time, and your soul’s ripped from your body.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispered.

“What for?” you sighed.

“Being dishonest. I didn’t want you to divide your attention between me and my brothers. I just wanted them safe.” Namjoon leaned his head against his headboard and stared out the window. You wished he’d lock eyes with you so you could see what he was thinking.

“It’s selfish,” you said, nearly scolded, “It’s selfish because the demons want you. It’s all about you. This kingdom is fucked without you, so you have to survive in order for your people to be okay. Putting your brothers before yourself is selfish.” Namjoon closed his eyes and pursed his lips.

“I know.”

“I get it, though,” you said, voice softer than you intended, more sincere, “I would have probably done the same.” There was a silence for a moment. Namjoon looked at you with a glint in his eye that you couldn’t quite place. “I can’t leave your side for a while now,” you eventually said, “I have a rune that can’t be broken as long as I’m close to you. It’ll keep your soul intact and your body healthy, as long as you stay by my side.”

Namjoon just nodded. You eyed the clock; twenty minutes. There was still time.

You grabbed a paintbrush and charcoal paint from your satchel and drew the same rune you had Namjoon swallow on his wrist, with only a few alterations.

“Smells good,” Namjoon said, voice low. You nodded.

“It’s the rosemary.”

Next, you lit a red candle. Namjoon examined it with curiosity. “It’s pretty,” he said and you smiled. You held out your hand and he gave you his own, palm up.

“This’ll sting.” You dripped the wax onto Namjoon’s skin, whispering the spell and consciously pouring magic into the drops. Namjoon hissed, but you were content. It was sealed in for now.

You finished the spell by drawing the same symbol on your own leg, only mirrored. Namjoon watched with interest, but stayed quiet.

“If you want to be comfortable,” Namjoon said when you were done, “I suggest you tuck yourself in. You have two minutes.”

“In your bed?” you asked in disbelief.

“We don’t have time to ready the couch, and the bed’s big enough.” Namjoon rolled over, facing you, and slapped his pillow, getting comfortable.

You kicked off your boots and hesitantly got into the other side. You turned your back to the king. There wasn’t much time to overthink it, anyway.

===

The next morning was a lot more pleasant than the previous one. You were warm and comfortable and very much not ready to wake up. The smell of rain and grass enveloped your dreamy being. You pressed your face into the pillow, wiggled back into the source of heat and tried to cancel out the ringing.

Not ringing. Your eyes shot open. Not ringing, but screaming.

The wall of warmth behind you groaned in displeasure and you nearly yelped with how fast you stumbled out of bed.

“Wha–?” Namjoon mumbled, eyes wide in attempt to see what’s going on. He looked so cute with his puffy cheeks and sleepy eyes that you damn near cooed at him, and you hated that with every fibre of your being.

“Can you not keep your hands to yourself?” you hissed, trying to push down the feeling to squish.

Namjoon looked around, really blinking the sleep out of his eyes, and a lazy smile spread on his face. He didn’t look cute anymore. He looked smug. And so sexy. And you hated that thought even more.

“You were on my side of the bed, princess,” he said and his morning voice made you want to throw yourself out of the window. He was right though. You’d migrated to him some time during your four hours of sleep. You were glad it was too dark for him to see you blush.

“Whatever, get up, I have princes to attend to.” You threw a pillow at him and he caught it, and fell back into bed.

“Then go, I get a few more minutes.”

“No, you don’t,” you said and threw him with another pillow. The king scowled at you. “I have to attend to the princes, and you have to stay close to me if you want to keep your soul.”

Namjoon sighed and stared at the ceiling for a moment, despair in his eyes, before he sighed again, this time in surrender. “Alright.” He got up and tiptoed to his wardrobe. “You can use the washroom first, if you want.” Namjoon gestured to a door you hadn’t noticed at first. You thanked him, and then went to see if you could salvage your appearance.

===

Yoongi was waiting for you in front of the closed door of the princes’ room. You walked quickly, trying to keep pace with Namjoon and his long legs. Yoongi cocked his head when he caught sight of you, amusement spreading in his eyes.

“Good morning,” Yoongi said.

“Oh, it was,” Namjoon purred and whipped your head around so fast you wouldn’t have been surprised if you heard your neck snap. You sent him a look that would have made a lesser man cower. Namjoon just smiled.

“Having your soul separated from your body is a terrible way to go, your majesty, but there are worse ways,” you gritted out. Yoongi snickered behind you. “We have work to do.”

The princes were in much the same condition as they were the day before. Hoseok smiled at you this morning, though. A tired, half smile, but you could only imagine how bright it could be. You treated his wounds the same as the previous day, and you were delighted to see that, even though there were new blisters, the old ones looked good. The balsam worked.

You treated Jeongguk too. Seokjin was nowhere to be found and Yoongi was struggling with Jimin, who looked very bad. Jeongguk was a lot more awake than the others had been. He spoke a bit too, asked your name and told you his favourite colour. You talked back, just to comfort him, to ground him.

“Jimin fights,” Jeongguk said after a long while of silence while you worked. You focused your attention back on him. The prince had spoken in a rush, like he wanted to get it out as fast as possible.

“Is that why he always looks so bad?” you asked. Jeongguk swallowed, but managed to nod. “Jeongguk, do you know who the demon is?”

The prince nodded again, and then immediately started crying. You tried to talk to him, to get a name out of him, but he became hysterical and then Namjoon took over, knowing how to comfort his brother. “I love him,” Jeongguk yelled, looking you straight in the eye.

You moved back, letting Namjoon take over. It bothered you, though, Jeongguk’s words. It felt like you missed something but you couldn’t place it.

Yoongi switched the drips and then approached you.

“Spill,” he demanded. You shook your head and pulled him away, out of the king’s earshot, and told him everything, starting with your encounter with Jeongguk and ending with your encounter with Namjoon.

“Mother, he’s lucky, holy fuck.”

“I told him that, but we don’t want to push it. Have you checked any traps?” you asked, wanting to change the topic.

“No, just the one on the way here and it was empty. C’mon then, we have work to do.”

“Namjoon,” you approached the king, now running his hands through Jeongguk’s hair, now sleeping. Namjoon looked up and you almost did a double take at his teary eyes. He was crying. The king was crying. You laid a hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft smile. “We have a demon to catch. He’ll be okay.”

Namjoon nodded, wiped his eyes, and followed you out.

You couldn’t push down the giddy feeling of going on a treasure hunt, no matter how many times you told yourself that it was a morbid thought.

===

The traps were empty, but you weren’t surprised. It was a game of luck and patience, like a man trying to catch a fish. You needed to wait.

At noon, Namjoon had a meeting with a few aristocrats that he couldn’t postpone or cancel, so you found yourself in a meeting room with your books scattered around you, not paying attention to any of the people in the room.

You caught a few nasty looks from a few of the old men, a few of them looked at you like prey, like they could eat you. It irritated you to no end.

“Your majesty,” a young man said, eyeing you like he wanted to use you and interrupting Namjoon mid-sentence. The king clenched his jaw, but looked at the man patiently, urging him to speak. “I don’t understand what this... girl is doing here, we’re discussing a sensitive things.”

“This has nothing to do with the topic at hand,” Namjoon stated, clearly irritated. “Her presence is not your concern, she is here for my protection.”

“Well,” the man said, “I believe we should vote on whether or not she gets to stay. Your majesty did say that all of our opinions matter and we should vote on all decisions, and I don’t think that someone from the West should listen in on something this sensitive. And you have guards to protect you.”

Two other men nodded their head and looked at the king expectantly, like they were challenging him. Namjoon smiled. It wasn’t a smile you knew. It was a threat more than anything else.

“Lord Lin,” he started, voice soft and pace slow, “if I let this council vote on all decisions, you would never be able to leave this boardroom. Instead, I let you go home to eat yourself to death. While you spend your nights with some poor woman who wishes she could make her living some other way, I stay in this room making decisions that I don’t want to waste either of our time on.” Namjoon’s smile was gone now. He seemed vicious. The man’s eye twitched, but he looked down anyway. “The decisions I let you vote on are the ones I think are appropriate, and even then your vote isn’t much more than a suggestion. Do you know why, Lord Lin?”

The man looked up and shook his head. There were a few people around the table who looked offended and angry, but the majority of the room hid their smiles behind their hands.  

“It’s because I am king, and you are not,” Namjoon said, head high. “So I suggest you don’t interrupt me again.”

The meeting went on after that, except that the young lord kept his poisonous gaze on you.

The rest of the day was less eventful. You dragged Namjoon to your and Yoongi’s room to work on your runes with Yoongi in your vicinity. The king went through documents of his own and eventually Taehyung knocked, asking to join because he felt scared.

You were surprised at the honesty, but you let him inside anyway, thinking that it couldn’t do much harm while the demon was dormant. He curled up on Yoongi’s bed with a book and didn’t say much else.

While Yoongi worked on his staying awake potion, you got further with your runes. Namjoon did give you things the princes loved. Dancing shoes, a ratty, used up paintbrush and a small, metal notebook with refillable pages.

Each of you were too caught up in your own things to really talk to the other.

You were nearly done, having had a major breakthrough in your research, when Namjoon interrupted you. You looked up, surprised at the existence of another human being besides yourself. You blinked yourself back into reality and found Namjoon holding out a hand toward you.

“Come,” he said, “you haven’t eaten all day and it’s dinner time.”

Against your better judgement, you packed everything you needed, including a toothbrush and your sleeping clothes, and followed the king to his room, wishing Yoongi and Taehyung a good night on your way out.

Taehyung responded with a smile, Yoongi didn’t hear you.

The food was amazing, brought to the king’s room by the servants, and you nearly made a noise when you bit into the tiramisu. You didn’t talk much during dinner, but neither did Namjoon. He seemed distracted.

“You’re not very nice to your lords,” you eventually teased after you licked your spoon clean. An embarrassed smile spread on his face.

“I’m not usually an asshole,” he defended, “I treat them pretty good, I think. That’s the most feedback I’ve gotten, at least. But Lin… god I can’t stand him. I miss his mother. She was an awesome woman, would have probably made a better monarch than I did. She died, though, and now I’m stuck with her spoiled little son.”

“He does seem spoiled,” you said absentmindedly.

“You know,” Namjoon said with a soft voice, more serious, “I’m really scared of losing them. It’s lonely without my brothers. Especially when Tae’s been so out of it lately. I miss having honest people around me. I miss talking.”

“You have me.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it, and you nearly slapped yourself. You were nothing to the king. Not family, not a friend, not a lover. “I mean, until you get them back you can talk to me.” God, that sounded worse. 

Namjoon smiled regardless. A genuine, grateful, albeit a little sad smile. “Yeah. I have you.”

You went back to work after eating, and Namjoon indulged in a novel. And then… a final line and you had a design in front of you that you couldn’t find a flaw with.

“I did it,” you said, more to yourself than anything else. Namjoon shot up and stood next to you in no time.

“You did?” he asked, sounding elated. You nodded frantically.

“Yeah, I think so. I can’t find a flaw. What time is it?” You frantically looked for the clock. Half past eleven. It could be enough time, but if something went wrong, you’d be stuck on demon grounds.

“Don’t risk it,” Namjoon said, reading your mind. “We have plenty of time tomorrow, and we’re no use to my brothers dead. Besides, you can have Yoongi look it over, just… just for another pair of eyes.”

“Yeah,” you said. He was right, of course.

“Let’s sleep,” the king suggested and it felt so intimate that you almost did a double take. “We could use an extra hour.”

You used the washroom to change into your sleepwear and nearly collapsed when you came back. Namjoon was shirtless again, wearing loose pants, ready for bed and it almost made you drool.

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to ask for the sofa. But the king didn’t seem bothered and the bed was so much more comfortable and it really had nothing to do with Namjoon being shirtless again and it hand nothing to do with the fact that you wanted to wake up wrapped around him again and –

You got into bed and turned your back to the king.

“Thank you, Y/n,” Namjoon said, voice low, “For everything.”

“I meant it when I said it,” you whispered, nearly hoping he didn’t hear you, “you have me.”

The room went silent for a hot minute and you started to drift away. Somewhere between awake and asleep, you felt Namjoon move closer, just enough to feel the dip in the bed, to feel the residue of his warmth.

If you were more awake, you would have moved away, but it would have been the logical thing to do, and not that what you’d want. So you did what you wanted, and moved close enough that your back touched his chest.

Silence. And then.

“Good night, princess.” 

#notyourdamsels #ksmutclub #bangtanhq #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #thekimlinenet #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #namjoon #rm #namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #namjoon fanfiction #rm fanfiction #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bangtan #bangtan boys