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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Note

22! angst to fluff pls love ur works <333

THANK YOU SM EVERYONE FOR REQUESTING HOPE YA'LL LIKE IT LOVE YAA !!!!!!

Harry hates one thing, most. That’s silence. Still, Y/N gave him a silent treatment knowing how much it drives him insane. It pinches him in throat in the most sickening way and makes him vicious about their fights more.

She has her reason too. Anyone would have a right to be mad if their boyfriend will be seen going to bars with models and cherry on top it turns out be his ex.

In his defence it was a PR stunt to keep the quietude about his dating life since Y/N and Harry’s relationship is private for Y/N's sake.

“You could’ve atleast told me, tha' you were going with her?” Was all she said. Confusion and insecurities and the images of her glued all over him mocked her in the most brutal way before she was distancing herself away from him.

He did anything in his will to bring her back to him, apologised and tried to shower her in kisses, making her brekkie and staying at home but she kept on pushing him away.

The problem wasn’t him. It was her. She blamed herself. He’s been nothing but so gentle with her and she’s towing him away like a used tissue.

Harry knew Y/N anxiety was always at bay and he didn’t want to worsen it by going public but it was biting him in arse as questions upon questions were thrown at him for past three years.

It's Saturday morning and she appears from the guest room after ages, the sight for sore eyes.

Harry’s eyes that were staring the tiled wall of kitchen flitters towards her and his gaze turns soft when he sees her drowned into one of his lilac sweater (she missed him so much and felt awfully hollow and cold sleeping in the bed that doesn’t smell like him at all; so she did what could comfort her best).

She looks so small and frail as if the demons of the lone bedroom swallowed her whole.

Heavy eyebags digging away the glimmer in her eyes, her cheekbones prominent and the pinkness of her eyes visible telling how much she’s been crying.

He turns expressionless on purpose when she meets his gaze and isn’t what she wanted? Some space to figure her thoughts out – but that polite gesture turned into a silent treatment from Harry’s side this time.

She knows that he’s more of a meanie in this game than her because he’s the one that never let things bottle up, his eyes gives away everything but right now they’re just murk of anger.

“Can we talk?” Her voice dim from crying for days and Harry elevates his shoulders carelessly, wrinkles on his forehead and his frown deep as he shrugs, “Dunno. Realized t’pick y'puppet back, your eminence?” His taunt hits her right in chest and she blinks the moisture in her eyes away looking down at her fingers fumbling with the frays of the hem.

He’s cloaked with sadness and dejection from her misbehaviour.

He’s the most petty when she’s the reason of his agony.

“I hate how much I care about, you.” He spats. Knuckles turning white from his grip around the marble counter and Y/N listens —— because good, she should now she’s out of her own bubble.

“How much I’ve told y'that no-one ‘n damn nothin’ could come between us —-" His tone dripping with malevolence and bitterness it tears Y/N up.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Harry!!” She almost shouts. Shaky fingers contemplating to rip at her hair and her tears now shines at her cheeks, Harry elicits a flak taunting chuckle.

“See you’ve never trusted our love. Can y'fo’ once get outta y’head?” His own eyes glossy and his cheeks flushing rosy from the impact.

“You don’t want to bear what comes with lovin' me, don’t want me to cover up tha’ fo' you and you couldn’t spend a single day without doubting us,” He licks the salt away from his lips and his heart pauses a slow beat when Y/N's lips wobbles -- incoherent blabbers slipping past her swollen lips.

“What d'ya want then!?” The loud snap of his abrasive voice hitches her breath and she sobs out sorrowfully, “I just want you.” He sighs in defeat. Not really pondering over the severity and nuance of his words before speaking.

“Falling in love with you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” That was the last blow for Y/N. She gasps out a cry. Pupils bursting wide and her insides falls sick as the itching goosebumps pin-prickles at her skin.

Everything gets struck for a moment. Harry’s expression matches her as he realizes what damage he has caused and to confirm it a blaring thunder roars through the sky.

Y/N gulps the achy feeling in her throat and just nods silently retreating back through the steps that led her to him and he’s rushing behind her in fret only to get the door to be slammed on his face.

He curses himself. Hitting his forehead into the door frame, that was the lowest and most cheapest fucking insult you could’ve managed to throw her way you dick.

“Y/N. I’m —-...fuck.” He knows that a sorry will be too humiliating for the hurt he has caused her.

While, Y/N sits on the floor at the most corner of the room with her knees bunched up to her chest. His hurtful words rings in her skull and she stuffs her face into her elbow sobbing into it watching the bear Harry won for her in a carnival with doleful blurry vision.

Through his whole life the only decision he regrets is loving me – out of every stupid thing he thinks our love is the most stupidest, what if it's the end? How I'll live without him? It’s impossible.

Forgetting hurts the more than grieving and she’d never be able to do that.

Her toes numbs to tingles and she feels herself drowning somewhere into pitch darkness, her heart lurching ruefully at each knock Harry taps on the door and her stomach burns with acidy sting lungs knotting tight making her gasp for oxygen.

Her panic attack crawling up her body in beasty blood curling gashes and she attempts to shout a plead for Harry but white dots appears at the back of her eyelids tripping her into mountain of floor pillows.

It knocks the vase out and it shatters beside her head, “Y/N! Baby!” Harry pounds at the door and when doesn’t hear a response from her side he’s kicking it open harshly.

The lock unhinges as he rushes inside worrisome and his world shatters when he sees his lovie struggling for a breather, her petite body trembling and shaking with each gasp that bolts her throat more and she nearly begs for him to do something.

He’s falling beside her on the floor and embracing her pliant figure in his gentle hold, “’S okay. ‘S okay.” He croaks out wiping his own tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

He rubs her tummy in soothing circles then trails his clammy palm up her chest and maintains an eye contact with her panicked ones. Her breath shudders when she tries to calm it back and her nails digs into his skin in doing so.

“Doing s'good f'me darling, yeah —-..yeah.” He bobs his head vigorously and assuring-ly stroking his thumb against her soaky cheek tenderly in pacifying motions.

Her breath lulls slowly back into a pattern and she jerks a little while inhaling a nourishing puff, “Take a breath honey, yes princess just like that.” He whispers speckling a tiny kiss to her forehead.

He pushes her up with a firm hand on her hip and into his lap murmuring sweet dottings into her ear, “Squeeze me hand if you could hear me baby.” He just wants to be reassured she’s doing okay –- his face crooked against her pulse point into her throat and she does so giving a weak squish to his fingers.

“Jeez.” He bumps her chin up with his head and touches their temples together – eskimo kissing her nose and her eyelids flutter when he pecks her mouth ever so lightly.

His insides are shaking anxiously from fright and he again hugs her warmly to feel her.

“’M sorry. So sorry lovie' didn’t –-.. didn’t mean to hurt ya, swear moppet was just upset tha’ y’were being so far from me. I love you so much precious ....." He presses his wet lips to the side of her head and buries his nose in her hair -- arms tightening around her waist.

".... and I don’t think lovin' you is stupid. Thinks tha’ ‘s the only best thing I’ve ever done in me life ... could never love anyone like that.” He mumbles cradling her sweaty face into his palms and patches soft kisses all over her face.

She hiccups a whimper. Nose quivering and lip wobbling — letting him kiss her pout and fists the flimsy fabric of his hoodie in her teensy hands compared to him, “’M sorry too. Sorry f'acting childish and not talking to you about it. I’m just scared I’m getting too obsessed with the idea of us and it’ll ruin us pathetically.”

“Wait. Wait woah baby ...” He grabs her gently with shoulders and pulls her back from him, “’S tha’ why you were trying to live off all by yourself?” He asks politely a bit glum she was enduring all of that herself.

When she tries to hide her face out of timidness he hooks his thumb under her chin and highers it up, “Y/N.”

“Thinks you love me so intensely?” She sniffs nodding in agreement and he smiles sweetly.

“Then fuckin' do it silly. Why d'ya think I wouldn’t want that lovlin? I want to be so loved by my sweet baby.” He almost falls back when she slings her arms around the nape of his neck and brings him down for a cuddle.

“I love you so much my Angel.” He murmurs with his face squished into her neck and fills his lungs with her warm vanillay scent.

She rubs her cheek up and down his chest like an affectionate starved puppy then stops where his heart lays under the trap of bones and kisses it three times.

Her love language. When she isn’t able to utter something she’s always appreciating him with loving actions and at the moment she did the same to exchange the sentiment.

Three kisses to heart means, “I love you so much it aches me.” He immediately catches it and pecks her nose.

"I know bub, I know."

#HARRY STYLES ANGST #harry styles angst.#harry styles angsty imagines #harry styles angsty blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry angst #fluff #harry styles one shots #cute harry #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles fanfic

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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x soulmate!reader #tom hiddleston soulmate au #soulmate au #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #completely self indulgent #as always

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echos-newlegs · 3 years

Note

Hello There! I was wondering if you'd write 11 an 13 for Tech, please? I may request some other stuff for my favourite bad batcher and maybe even Rex later, but if you did that one i would be so happy!!! Have fun writing!! “I think I may be falling in love with you, and it scares me.." + “I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.”

What's with you?

Bro he has been on my mind non stop since I read this request. He is literally so cute and I love him. He needs more love 😔 so thank you for sharing this and yes, yes I will be writing a story about this because these ideas you have are ADORABLE-

Tech x Reader: "I think I may be falling in love with you and it scares me.." + "I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand."

Warnings: nothing but fluff

You and Tech out of the bad batch were two of the closest. You were a no body before you met the bad batch. You studied things, a scientist of sorts. Though nothing official. You did do a lot of things when it came to researching and trying to come up with theories for why things happened. Plus you were good with your hands when it came to building things. So, instinctively. Hunter took you in, along with everyone else.

You didn’t really have a family. Where you grew up you were lucky you were still even alive. Though, Tech was obviously thankful. He cared for you so much. Even just the after the first time you spoke with him. You were shy at first, but after some warming up you were rather obnoxious. Plus. You knew your stuff, and the two of you could have a conversation on everything and anything for hours on end.

Useless information was your game, and you loved that you finally had someone to share it with.

It didn’t take long for you both to develop feelings. You were both fairly good at hiding it though. You were never one that was good with expressing feelings. The fear of abandonment and ruining the friendship you had always lurked in your conscious.

Tech was just scared. He had never felt this way before. Sure he’s had a couple hookups from 79’s, but never anything that mad him feel like you do. How you make him smile anytime even just a thought of you crosses his mind. How he gets butterflies in his stomach from just your laugh.

Or how his mind lurks and picks up the things you like. From how you enjoy your caf, to your favorite candies or flowers.

Or the thoughts that lurk within his mind when he’s alone and no one else is around.

He was so scared of all of it though. He was a clone. A defective one for Makers sake! He couldn’t like someone when his sole purpose in life was to fight and then be killed off like every other clone on existence. No thought to it, no remorse. No remembrance.

Though, one day when Hunter caught him staring at you while you were target practicing with Crosshair. Hunter told him something that made him a little less scared of the whole ordeal.

“You know it’s okay to like y/n, right?” Tech was shocked by his words. Blush creeping up the back of his neck. “Ah-what? I don’t- don’t be ridiculous.” He would stammer. A nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “Vod, don’t lie to me, I see the way you look at them.” He spoke, “I can sense the way you both feel for each other. Why don’t you do something about it? Live your life, enjoy what you can.” And before he could protest or ask anything Hunter was walking off. Leaving him to ponder.

Both.

It was simple. But it had the gears in his brain turning. Fast enough he nearly felt nauseous. ‘Both? As in y/n has feelings, too?’ He had to be kidding, right? Right. Who would like someone like.. Well like him.

Weeks had passed since that incident and he still thought about it. Hunter shooting him looks when it was just you and Tech talking to one another. Or when you two would sit next to one another. You hadn’t noticed, but Tech did.

So one day out on the field, Hunter had set up the plans where you went with Tech. Tech knew what he was trying to do. He was for sure it wouldn’t work. He was horrible with words when it came to flirting. Plus he knew for a fact that he would get nervous and stammer. Or jumble his words.

The two of you were in a lab like area. Bottles and beakers scattered around. Though your guy’s main interest was the large computer system towards the back. The data base that had all the information you guys needed.

Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair were out being your distraction while the two of you got to work on hacking into the system. You taking over for a bit while tech worked on something else. You could tell he was nervous, but you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like him. He was normally always comfortable around him. It made you wonder if you did something wrong?

Once the files were transferred Tech grabbed what you two needed, and then your hand. Pulling you out of the room and back to the exit.

You were internally screaming. His fingers laced around your hand. His was a bit larger than yours, and you had never realized it. Not until now. Your heart racing a marathon. Techs was, too.

You let go when he did. Which was when the two of you made it back to the group. “You get it?” Hunter asked, and you nodded. Tech speaking a quick, ‘affirmative.’ You and the rest of the boys heading out of the facility and booking it for the ship.

No use sticking around and waiting for more droids to be deployed.

Hours had passed since the mission, and you were sitting on your bunk after a short shower. You normally were able to relax in the shower, but now? No, you couldn’t. You were still in shock by Techs actions. He was in the cockpit. Flying the ship, and you wanted to ask about it so badly, but you were anxious. It had to be a mistake. You were overthinking it. You had to be.

Though, you were walking to the cockpit without thinking. When you realized it you were already at the door. No use turning back now. You entered, and saw him dozing off in the seat. Ship in hyperdrive. “Oh sorry,” you blurted when he looked up with a tired gaze. “Oh, no, you’re fine.” Tech spoke a bit quickly. “Did you need something?” He asked, moving his goggles to rub his eyes. Then pulled them back down.

You were tempted to back out. Say you were just looking for him and head back for your bunk, but your curiosity got the best of you. “Can I sit with you?” He nodded. Shifting in his seat as you sat in the copilot seat. The door shutting behind you.

He was watching you now. His own curiosity striking him. Thoughts running through his own mind as to why you were there and what you wanted. “I just uhm.. you licked your lips and sighed. Looking down to your hands. Which were fidgeting in your lap. Then back to him. “Why’d you grab my hand earlier?”

You saw him freeze up, and you grew more nervous. “I mean, I don’t mind but you just- you’ve never grabbed my hand before.” You spoke, fidgeting more. “You always just tell me to follow you, I was just wondering, is all.” You rambled. Looking to his eyes, you could practically see his brain turning.

“Well..” he spoke, clearing his throat. Then turning to look back out the front of the ship. “In all honesty, y/n, I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.” The bluntness of his own statement shocked the both of you.

You were surprised, and you caught yourself staring off into space, figuratively. Eyes looking back up to Techs face when he looked back to you. Catching his eyes with your own. “Really?” You asked, and watched as his tanned skin turned nearly pink. Your own skin it’s own rosy shad as well. “Yes, I’m sorry.”

You frowned a bit at the apology. Reaching over to place your hand on his shoulder. “Don’t apologize, Tech.” You added, watching as he looked down to your hand then back to your face. “I told you, I didn’t mind.” You grew a bit sheepish. Retracting your hand a bit at your next words. “I liked it, actually.”

He reached up to grab your hand before you could pull it away fully. Turning in his seat to face you completely now. Squeezing at your hand a bit and you looked back with a curious gaze. “Really?” You smiled at the look of hope and shock written in his eyes. “Yeah, really.”

You both stared at each other like love sick teens. Until tech looked down to your hands. Breaking the gaze. “Can I tell you something now?” You nodded, watching as he played with your fingers anxiously. “Of course, what is it, Tech?”

“I think I may be falling in love with you,” his voice was softer and more timid than before. “And it scares me.” He looked up to you, with worried eyes. You were at a loss for words, to say the least. Mouth slightly agape, and his eyes lowered again.

“I went too far, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to upset you,” he let go of your hand and you reached up to place it on his cheek. Shaking your head with a small smile. A smile that screamed, ‘I love you, too.’ “No, Tech, you didn’t go too far. Tech, I think I’m, no— I know I’ve fallen in love with you. I’m just,” you trailed off. “I’m not the best with stating feelings, I have had issues with past relationships and I didn’t want to scare you.” You admitted, and he leaned into your touch. Watching you carefully.

“I’ve just never met anyone else who makes me feel the way you do.” The words made you melt. Leaning forward to hug the other, kissing his cheek. “Well, I’m glad you told me,” he chuckled. Pulling you out of your seat and over to sit on his lap. Nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “If I waited any longer Hunter would have went insane.” That made you chuckle a bit. Smiling softly as he placed a chaste kiss to your shoulder.

“What does this make us then?” You pulled back to look at him, grinning softly as you rested your head against his forehead. “I guess.. an item? Is that what they call it? Partners, lovers..” your trailed on, and he giggled a bit at that. “I like lovers,” you were internally squealing at that. Smiling as he leant in and pressed a short and soft kiss to your lips. Humming contently. “Lovers it is.”

#bad batch x reader #star wars #star wars writing #the bad batch #the clone wars #writing #tech x reader #tech #tech bad batch #bad batch tech #tech the bad batch

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mxtcha-tea · 3 years

Note

useless love letter with oikawa & kuroo?

Useless Love Letter.2

✎desc; when he receives a love letter from someone else and you’re unphased by it.

✎pairing[s]; kuroo x gn!reader (let me know if i miss any)

✎genre; angst, unrequited love (not proofread)

✎language[s]; english

✎chef note; I ran out of ideas so I can't do Oikawa's part (my motivation istg smh)

It’s always been you, Kuroo and Yaku. You three all became friends a lot more quicker than anyone could’ve expected. And the friendship started the same way, from Kuroo annoying you two and becoming enemies when you first met.

Kuroo’s the one who bands you all together into this lump of mess and y’know, he’s glad that he did. High school couldn’t be even more exciting with both of you by his side.

But the more time passed, the more his feelings for you took a slight turn. It was the end of summer when Kuroo started realizing it. You came to his house because you forgot to do the homeworks they’ve given before summer starts.

Sure, it was a pain in the ass having to deal with your complaints and groan echoing every corner of his room. He thought about kicking your out right that instant but something in him told himself to just let you stay there longer.

Watching you from the corner of his eyes, freezing like a statue while squinting your eyes at your exercise book, a pen between your upper lips and nose. It’s not the prettiest image, he had to admit, but you look the most beautiful when you’re doing the most random poses.

Then, his mind drifted to every key memory of you, the way his cheeks would turn into a rosy color when your skin met or when his mind malfunctioned when you held eye contact with him. You drive him insane and Kuroo has no idea if it’s a good thing or not.

But it sure gave him butterflies and made him feel at home. So, maybe it is a good thing. He’ll always have sleepless nights where he can’t think of anything else other than you. He hates it when it happens because it made him feel like a creep.

Kuroo wondered if you felt the same. When he blushes, would you react the same? When he stuttered out, would you do the same? He wasn’t entirely sure, so he tried his best to be as close to you than he’ll ever be.

Even if it may take forever to let those 3 words out from his vocal chords, it’ll be worth it, he knows it.

The bell rang, signalling end of the 3rd period. Yaku sighed, cracking his knuckles before walking towards your desk. Kuroo can be seen sitting in front of you, probably annoying you yet again, “Hey, [y/n], have you written any notes during class?”

Yaku asked, reaching for the nearest chair and sitting on it, leaning his arms onto your desk, “A little,” “Only a little? I honestly thought that you’re not going to write anything,” You tch’ed, holding out your middle finger at Kuroo while the bedhead just snickered,

“It’s none of your business, Mount Fuji hair,” But at that, Kuroo snapped. Yaku tried to hold in his laughs and hitting the desk a little, “Oi, stop coming up with new nicknames for me,” “No, I think that nickname suits you the most, Mount Fuji hair, Mount Fuji hair,”

Now it’s your turn to snicker at him while mockingly pointing at his hair. Yaku finally releases his laugh while holding you for support. For some reasons, that action pissed him a lot more.

Who did he think he is to just touch you like that? But he managed to calm himself as he points at you, trying to figure out a better remark to counter your insult,

“How ironic hearing it from-” “UM, SORRY,” He got cut off as he looked to his left, finding a girl, probably from a different class standing next to him with a nervous face.

Both you and Yaku stopped laughing and also took your attention on the girl. With shaky hands, she holds out a letter to Kuroo. All three of you went wide eyes at that as the same exact words run across your minds,

‘A CONFESSION LETTER?!’

“Please accept this!” He slowly takes the letter from the girl’s hand, nodding, “Oh, um, okay,” And with that, the girl ran out from the classroom, face visibly red from being nervous and probably embarrassment.

It was silence before all of you looks at the letter in Kuroo’s hand, you look up at his face, who’s also looking at you and the same thing with Yaku,

“HAH! Look at who’s Mr. Popular right now,” Kuroo stated, pointing at you with a smirk plastered on his face, “Ugh, you’re so annoying, and so what? It’s only a letter and not tons of them,”

And after that very statement of yours, you hold Yaku’s face in between your hand like a sandwich with a small smile on your face, “But honestly, Yaku can get more love letters than you, I mean look at him, isn’t he handsome?”

Yaku blushed at that, slowly gripping your wrist and pushing your hands away from his face, “Hey, don’t do that, it hurts,” “Oops, sorry Mr. Handsome,” “Seriously, what’s with you and giving random nicknames?” “But that’s not random? I genuinely think you’re handsome, Mori,”

His blush deepened as he lightly hit your head, “J-just shut up,” “Ow! Fine fine, yeesh,”

Kuroo just stays quiet, staring at you two acting...oddly lovely with each other from his seat. He wanted to punch Yaku so bad but he can’t, he knows he can’t. But it doesn’t matter, cause you like him right? He’s sure of that, it’s just like a frenemies to lover trope.

He coughed, taking back both of your attention, “But I don't really see him receiving any, didn’t he? Then, I guess I’ll just keep being Mr. Popular, or even Mr. Handsome,” Yaku cringed while you snorted,

“You? Who in the world would even think that? You’re ugly, ugly baby, maybe that girl’s delusional or something,” “As if you’re anywhere pretty, and who’s even getting a love letter right now? I bet you’re jealous that you got none,”

You sighed, resting your head onto the palm of your hand, “Sadly, I guess no one noticed my beauty, “ Kuroo chuckled, “But serious talk here,”

That caught both Kuroo and Yaku attention as you continue, eyes looking down on your finger hitting the desk, “I don’t really mind getting a love letter from someone, whether it’s a prank or whatever, I think it’s neat,”

You look up at both of them, a small smile decorating your face, “ It makes me feel special,”

Kuroo could feel his heart beating faster, cheeks burning up at nothing but those simple words. It’s funny how the love letter in his hand doesn’t give him any reactions at all, but your mere words does,

“Stop saying it in that tone, you’re making me feel bad,” “Pfft, I don’t need your pity,” “Oh really~? Maybe I’ll write a letter for you to make you feel better then,” “Ugh, no thanks, Mount Fuji hair,” “Yeah, I- OI! SERIOUSLY, STOP WITH THE NICKNAME,”

You and Kuroo kept on arguing with each other, spitting profanities and so on. Yaku can just sigh, shaking his head and watching you two with a small smile.

“I’m going home now!”

Grabbing his bag, Yaku waved his hand as he walked towards the gym door, “Okay, stay safe!” Kai said, waving back at him, Kuroo joined his side, “I hope you don’t get chased again by those dogs,” “SHUT UP MOUNT FUJI HAIR!”

And with one last glare at the ravenette, Yaku stormed out from the gym after accidentally being reminded by that horrible and embarrassing memory,

“Mount Fuji hair?” Kai looked at Kuroo with a confused look, “Ah, It’s a new nickname [y/n] gave me, it’s stupid to be honestly,”

Kuroo explained, scratching the back of his head as he followed Kai to grab a broom and clean the gym.

Behind them are the 2nd years helping to clean the gym. Kenma sitting on the floor while rejecting Yamamoto’s request to put down the net with him and Fukunaga’s just watching them from a distance, sweeping the floor while snickering to himself,

“Kuroo, I hope you’re planning on confessing to [y/n], because you’re delaying a lot of time,” Kuroo pursed his lips, sweeping the floor a few meters away from Kai, “Nah, I think after a few more days then I can confess to them,”

And from that, Kai stopped sweeping as it caught Kuroo’s attention. Kuroo looks at him, his eyes show nothing but urgency. And somehow pity,

“I’m serious right now, Kuroo. You’ve what? Said that 3 times already and you still haven’t done anything. And…”

He stopped, sighing quietly before continuing, “...If you don’t take actions right this instant, [y/n]’s gonna be sweeped away by someone else,” Kuroo’s eyes went wide at that, “You...you don’t mean,”

“[y/n]’s going to be confessed by someone else today, at this time. I’ve heard it from a friend of mine,”

The broom in his hand falls down, echoing through the now empty gym and catching the attention of the 2nd years, looking at Kuroo with confusion. The male isn’t doing any better, he’s visibly shaking but he can’t move or do anything.

But then, his instincts started kicking in as his legs made the first move. He slammed open the gym door and started running towards the place he would think you would be at. Kai watching him with pity lacing his expression, taking the broom from the ground,

“I’m so sorry, Kuroo,”

‘I’m going to confess to [y/n] today and give them a letter because you know that I can’t tell everything inside my mind when they’re in front of me, they’re too pretty and it makes me nervous y’know. Oh, and also, keep this a secret from Kuroo, okay?’

His mind is going everywhere, his thighs burning from the amount of running he did from the gym all the way to the hallway of the first class. Kuroo has no idea where he’s heading to whatsoever but at the same time, he knows where it is.

The world around him started spinning as a pain shot to his head but he paid it no mind as he huffed, beads of sweat falling from his face and covering his cheeks.

And suddenly he stopped.

Kuroo watches from a distance, chest rising up and down. He can’t feel anything right now, he can’t hear anything. But the pain is still visibly there when he watches Yaku handing you a letter.

Your eyes went wide as you bowed to Yaku and took the letter from him. He can’t hear what they’re talking about, but whatever it’s about really makes you happy huh? And before he could process anything after that, you two kissed.

It was just a few seconds but it felt like an eternity to Kuroo. The way your lips touch Yaku’s, and not his. God, he dreamed of feeling it against him but now, he doesn't even have the chance to taste it.

Now, he’s thinking back to what Kai had said. Why did he wait to confess to you? The answer is quite simple,

Because he’s afraid. He’s afraid of rejection, he’s afraid that it’ll ruin the relationship you have with him now, he’s afraid of showing his vulnerability to you. It’s a simple task but a hard execution, and now Kuroo can’t do it anymore. Not now, not then.

Yes, he regretted not doing it earlier but it’s even more painful that he has to watch both of his friends fall in love with each other without him noticing. Actually, no, he did notice it.

Kuroo did notice how Yaku look at you, it’s also the way Kuroo looks at you too. But he didn't mind it because he can’t face the reality. That you like Yaku better than him.

So, he had to live in a fantasy world where you fall in love with him instead. How funny. A part of him wanted to stop it, just stop the painful visual that he had to watch, maybe that’ll be an interesting twist to the story.

But he didn’t, because he’s still scared.

And before Kuroo even knew it, you two are gone now. Probably going on a quick date or something. He weakly leaned against the wall, slowly falling down to his knees as he covered his face with his hands.

A few sniffles came out from him as he choked on his tears, each droplet falling down to the ground and soaking his sweaty hands. And now, he knows why Yaku asked to go home early today,

Kuroo hiccupped, a small smile appearing on his face as he laughed quietly to himself, “It’s okay, they’re a cute couple anyway. You’re strong, and you can find...better,”

It’s always been you, Kuroo and Yaku. And now, it’s only Kuroo left.

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo angst

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my-unmanageable-mischief · 3 years

Text

Love Triangle

For the Anon who requested : Can u write something like the james/lily/snape thingy but with harry/draco/reader where the reader ultimately ends up with harry?

When you were sorted into Gryffindor, you felt like your world had ended. You were going to disappoint your father, you were going to lose your best friend, Draco, and you weren’t going to be a lonely outcast. At 11 everything is the end of the world. However, you were lucky, unbelievably so. Your parents eventually came around, “At least we know she’s brave,” he had said. And while you spent the first few months of school without Draco, he had come around as well. You were still best mates, thicker than thieves. A shining example of inter-house friendships. Even if you did tease each other mercilessly. You even found friends and a home within Gryffindor. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had become your best friends- despite Draco’s protests.

Years later, you were a 6th year now, one more year until you graduated, and you were content with everything you had in your life. But change was on the horizon. Draco wasn’t acting himself, and frankly, neither was Harry. You worried about both of them, worried for them. Draco had missed two of your Friday study sessions in a row, a tradition since you were 11. And Harry was so caught up in that book and his own head when you were with him, he wasn’t even there.

You were sitting in the common room, Harry and Hermione were bickering about his potions book and Ron was sitting by the fire ignoring them. You were lost in thought. The mention of your inner thoughts brought you into the current conversation.

“Draco is a death eater, I know it.” Harry barked at Hermione, who glanced quickly at you then back to Harry.

“Harry…” She started but you cut her off.

“No, he isn’t,” You snapped, and Harry’s gaze turned to you, souring.

“Of course you’d say that,”

“Because he isn’t.” You held his gaze with your own, “You’re overreacting, a habit really.”

“I saw him in Knockturn Alley this summer, Y/N, what respectable wizard goes there?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,”

“His father is one,”

“And everyone is exactly like their father? You don’t know him.”

“And I don’t care to, how you're his friend I’ll never know,” He scoffed, and you continued to glare at him.

“It’s cause he’s got a crush on her,” Ron added from the carpet below them. “She likes the attention,”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped, and you turned your glare from Harry to him.

“I like the attention?” He merely shrugged, looking away again. “I see. Fine. I’ll leave you lot to it then.” You gathered your books, shoving them into your satchel before huffing and storming towards the girl’s dorm. Hermione continued to glare at both boys.

“Why would you say that?” She questioned, Ron shrugged again. “You two are impossible.”

“You birds are always annoyed by something,” Ron shook his head. Hermione let out a huff similar to yours and followed your actions, gathering her own things. “Hey, what about helping me with charms?” Ron asked, Hermione, shook her head, still glaring.

“Do it yourself.” She, too, stormed towards the girl’s stairs. The boys sat in silence for a moment, looking at each other.

“You didn’t need to say that,” Harry finally mumbled, Ron sat up, looking at his friend.

“It’s true, she likes the attention he gives her, it’s a girl thing.”

“Maybe she likes it because she likes him,” Harry suggested and Ron made a face.

“How could she?” Harry simply shrugged, looking down at the cover of his worn-out book. “You should tell her mate,”

“Tell her what?”

“That you like her, and that you can give her attention.”

“She doesn’t want that,” Harry stood up as well, grabbing his bag, “I’m going to bed.” Ron hopped up as well.

“Yeah, I’ll come too.”

In the girl’s room, you and Hermione sat on her bed, both steaming. Hermione sat up straight, ranting, her hands flying a mile a minute, as you lounged back against her pillows, arms crossed, head nodding in agreement.

“They’re both terrible! I don’t get it, Harry, with his book, and his head up his arse, doesn’t even see what is really going on around him, he just talks, he’s clueless! And Ron, don’t get my started on Ron, he’s a thick-headed git, he-”

“I’d hate to see you started.” You joked smirking slightly and Hermione chuckled, dropping her hands.

“I’m sorry they were being rotten to you,” You shrugged, playing with the hem of her duvet.

“Draco isn’t a death eater, I’d know.” You murmured and Hermione nodded. “He isn’t, Harry just hates him for no reason,”

“They hate each other,” She corrected gently, “It’s mutual, they always have. Harry is... jealous.”

“Jealous?” You laughed, rolling your eyes, “What do you mean?”

“Draco does like you-”

“Hermione not this again,”

“Come on it’s obvious.” You shook your head, rolling your eyes, “He’s always loved you,”

“Okay? So? Maybe? But why on earth should Harry care about who does and does not have a thing for me?” You questioned and Hermione looked at you pointedly. “No,” You shook your head wildly, “Hermione, no,”

“He likes you,”

“No, he does not,”

“Y/N, come on,”

“Hermione! You come on!” She nudged you gently, and you slumped down further into her pillows, “Come on, you’re taking the piss,”

“I’m not.” She looked at you seriously, “He likes you, and he knows Draco does too, and he doesn’t like it.”

“Why not, I don’t know, talk to me about it?”

“They’re boys,” You both chuckled at that, then there was silence for a moment as you processed it.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I didn’t think you were coming.” You looked up at your friend as he approached your usual table in the library. He looked down at his hands as he sat, he felt guilty. Good. “You’ve stood me up three weeks in a row. I almost didn’t come myself.”

“I’m sorry,” He sighed, looking up at you, “I really am,” You nodded, reaching over to put a hand on his arm, to which he flinched. You retracted your hand.

“Draco, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” You looked at him pointedly, raising an eyebrow, and he shrugged, “Nothing,”

“That might work on someone else, but I know you a bit too well to buy that, talk to me,” You prodded, and he sighed.

“You wouldn’t understand.” You nodded, placing your hands flat on the table in front of you, looking there instead of at him.

“Are you upset with me?”

“What? No, of course not.” You nodded again, shrugging.

“You’ve been ignoring me,”

“I’m sorry,”

“You mentioned,” You glanced up at him, trying to catch his eyes, but he wasn’t looking at you either.

“I’m just stressed with school and stuff,”

“Stuff?”

“I can’t talk about it, Y/N,”

“Can’t or won’t?” You questioned him, and he finally looked up, his grey eyes were dark and heavy, and he looked more serious than you had ever seen him.

“Can’t.” You nodded, holding his gaze.

“Okay,” it came out in a whisper, and it felt appropriate somehow. “I’ve missed you,” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and he reached over to grab your arm this time, squeezing.

“I always miss you, trust me, I think about you constantly.” You thought back to your conversation a few nights before with Hermione and your cheeks began to heat up. Draco tilted his head, catching it immediately, “What?”

“Nothing,” It was your turn to be invasive. Draco frowned, squeezing your arm again.

“Is that so?” You didn’t answer, you looked down at where his hand was on your arm, swallowing thickly. “Y/N?”

“Do you like me?” You asked, suddenly, looking up at the boy who was turning into a man before your eyes. Sometimes you still saw him, 8 years old, and so carefree. Those were different times. You watched him, his own thick swallow, his eyes looking around, his cheeks slightly rosy. He did. But would he tell you?

“Why?” He questioned you back, and you smirked slightly.

“Is that a yes?”

“What if it is,” He removed his hand, scratching the back of his head nervously. You paused. What if?

“I don’t know,” He nodded, face closing off, you frowned, reaching for him. “I don’t know, Draco, but it’s not bad. Okay?” He glanced up, smiling slightly.

“Whatever you say.”

You couldn’t see through your tears, you were furious. You entered the common room like a storm, looking around wildly. Where was he? You didn’t see him, so you stormed up the boy’s staircase and into the boy’s assigned room.

“What the fuck did you do,” You yelled, coming into the room and stopping in front of the boy, “What did you do!” You came up to him, pointing a finger at him, shoving it against his chest, he had the decency to look scared.

“Y/N,” Ron got up off his bed, trying to sound soothing, but you were too mad.

“He’s in the hospital wing half dead because of you!” You yelled, and Harry stood up, taking a step towards you, so you were in each other’s faces.

“Does it matter that he attacked me first?!” He asked his own voice raising.

“Guys,” Ron interjected. “Please,”

“Shut up,” You both yelled.

“You could have killed him!”

“Why are you protecting him, Y/N, he’s a death eater!” You pushed your hand into his chest and he grabbed it, pulling you closer, “Maybe you’re one too,” You shoved at him, backing away.

“You’re insane, you’re... you’re... the worst!” You couldn’t even formulate words right now you were so angry. “Never speak to me again!”

“My pleasure!” You stormed from the room as quickly as you had come in, going back towards the hospital wing. Harry continued to seethe, and Ron watched him, worried.

“Mate?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

A month went by with little to no communication between you and Harry, and it hurt you more than you would like to admit. You could see he was struggling, and you wanted to be able to go to him, to ask him what was wrong. But you were still so mad. Hermione came to you one morning, looking worried, she grabbed you from the common room and took you to somewhere you could talk privately.

“I need you to talk to Harry,” You opened your mouth to argue, but she cut you off continuing, “Please, whatever differences you have, you need to. He won’t listen to anyone else.”

“Hermione? What’s going on?” You were worried now, watching her in panic.

“He’s going... somewhere with Dumbledore, somewhere dangerous, he won’t talk about it, but it’s something to do with You Know Who,” You nodded, glancing around to make sure you were still alone.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell him not to!” She cried, grabbing at the front of your robes, “Please, I have a bad feeling, he won’t even talk to Ron about it.” You nodded, placing your hands over her hands and squeezing.

“Where is he?”

“Harry?” You knocked on the slightly ajar door of an empty classroom before letting yourself in, closing the door behind you.

“I thought we were never speaking again,” He didn’t even look up, you shrugged, coming to sit on a desk a few away from him.

“Ron and Hermione are worried about you,” He scoffed, looking out one of the large classroom windows.

“And why do you care?”

“Because you’re my friend, even when I’m upset with you, and I care about you.” You answered honestly. “Because I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He shrugged this time, before crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m fine,”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He snapped. You were quiet for a moment, before getting up to move closer to the boy.

“Talk to me, please,” He tensed slightly, and you could tell he was trying not to look at you, “Where are you going with Dumbledore?”

“Y/N, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, Harry, it does.” You touched his arm gently, trying to get him to look at you, “Please.”

“We’re going to destroy a Horcrux.” He finally whispered, “It’s... a piece of Voldemort, he can’t die until we destroy them all. That’s the short version.” You nodded, squeezing his arm. Finally, he glanced over at you, “and you’re not going to talk me out of it,” You smiled sadly.

“I didn’t think I could.” He returned the small smile.

“You’ve always known me best,” You smiled more, tilting your head.

“It’s my job.” He chuckled slightly, “When do you go?”

“Tonight.” You nodded, before removing your hand from his arm and wrapping them both around him in a tight hug. It took a moment, but he returned it, holding you close.

“I’m sorry,”

“For?”

“Everything mean I’ve ever said to you,” You chuckled, resting your chin on his shoulder as you embraced.

“I forgive you,” You assured him, squeezing him tighter, “Just please be safe, I want you back here in one piece, you hear me?” He nodded and released you finally.

“Y/N...”

“Hmm?” You asked, looking at him as his hands remained on each of your arms. They went from your biceps down, before eventually, he was clasping both of your hands in his.

“You mean the world to me, you know that right?” You smiled softly, meeting his eye.

“I do now,” You joked, and he laughed softly.

“I know you like Draco-”

“I... don’t.” You assured. You had tried to, really tried. He was your best friend, your soulmate even, but it was not meant to be romantic. Not in this life. Harry paused at that, and you watched him, watched him lean in before placing a soft kiss on your cheek, when he pulled back he was blushing deeply. You smiled and squeezed his hands before leaning in yourself to place a small kiss on his lips, “Just come back, okay?”

The castle was finally quiet, after hours of chaos. Dumbledore was dead. Rumors flew on who killed him; Draco Malfoy. Your head spun, your stomach lurched. You didn’t want to believe it.

“Y/N?” Hermione whispered, her hand finding your hand, “Are your parents coming to get you?” You shook your head, you wanted to cry, but you couldn’t. Ron stood on her other side, and Harry was a few feet away from you. Everyone wore blank faces. Death eaters in Hogwarts. Nowhere was safe. Dumbledore was dead. No one was safe.

“No, they’re in Italy.” You spoke but it didn’t sound like yourself. You didn’t want to see them right now anyway.

“Come to the Burrow,” Ron offered easily, “Mum and Dad won’t mind,” You nodded, not really hearing him. You were looking at Harry.

“I’ll be right back,” You walked away from them without looking at them, going to stand beside the boy. You both stood in silence for a few moments before you choked back a sob, and he looked down at you.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, unable to look at him, as you were wrecked with guilt, “I’m so so sorry, I-”

“For what?” He asked, turning to face you, hands going to your shoulders.

“I didn’t believe you, and you were right,” You cried, and Harry pulled you into a tight embrace.

“It isn’t your fault,” He assured you, and you clung to him, continuing to cry into his chest.

“He was my friend, I didn’t think... I never thought...” Harry nodded, smoothing your hair back, shushing you gently.

“It’s alright, I know, I’m sorry.” You continued to hug for a few moments as you cried it out, Harry rubbing your back through it all, “It’ll be okay, we’re gonna be okay.”

#Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter request #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #Draco Malfoy #draco malloy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x gryffindor

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bellisperennis0 · 3 years

Text

Falling For You

Word Count: 1,608

Warning(s): None

A/N: Love confession and a blushing Bishop. Swoon! GIF credit to @trans-am-catie. Thank you for reading and Enjoy! 🖤

Anonymous asked: Hi lovely ☺️ possibly 27, 28, 29 from the fluff list with bishop please? Him blushing and really fluffy in his feelings for reader, and he hasn’t felt like that in while and he comes clean about them. Thank you so much!! I love how you write him ❤️ ❤️

Showing up to the Clubhouse after your shift, you had expected the normal Club party to be well under way, but were surprised to see the Clubhouse this quiet for a typical Friday night.

Walking in, you were even more surprised to see most of the guys were gone as well.

“Hey, Boy scout. Where is everyone?” you ask as you make your way towards the bar, giving him a hug.

“They all went home. The run kind of took everything out of us.” He says giving you a reassuring smile.

“Everyone whole?” you ask in concern.

“Everyone’s whole. He’s in the office.” He tells you as he points towards the Templo door.

You give him another hug, thanking him and sending him home for the night.

Gently sliding the door open you step in, taking in the sight of Bishop in his seat at the head of the table, head in his hands, bottle of whiskey and an empty glass sitting not too far from him.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask as you lean against the doorframe, watching as he lifts his head to look up at you. Your heart slightly clenching as you can see the worry and exhaustion all over his face.

“Hay, sweetheart.” He says as he does his best to give you a convincing smile.

“Anything I can do?” you ask as you take the seat next to him.

He just shakes his head as he sits back in his seat, “You just being here is enough.”

You both sit there in a comfortable silence until Bishop’s raspy voice breaks you out of your daydream.

“Want to go for a ride?” he asks you as he stands up, giving you his hand to take.

“Yeah. Yeah that would be nice.” You smile as you take his hand.

----------

The ride with Bishop led you back to your place, as it almost always does. Walking out to the back porch, you hand Bishop another beer, before taking your seat across from him.

“Are you alright, Obispo? You don’t seem yourself tonight?” you ask him with concern laced in your voice.

Reaching over, he takes your hand into his, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles, “I will be. Don’t worry your pretty little heart about it.” He tells you as he brings your hand to his lips, placing a gently kiss against your knuckles.

“Well, you know if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to be there and listen, I’m always here.” You tell him, giving him a smile.

He returns your smile, “I know, sweetheart. Thank you!”

“You want to know something, Bish?” you suddenly ask, looking at him over your mug as you take a sip of your tea.

Bishop looks at you for a moment. He raises an eyebrow and speaks. “What’s that, sweetheart?” He slowly asks.

You smile and say, “Your face is freaking adorable and I bet the rest of you is too.”

After a few moments of awkward silence, your brain catches up with what your heart had said. “Shit! Obispo I am so sorry, I didn’t- I mean- I didn’t mean to say that it just kind of came out on its own and- Fuck I’m so so sorry. I...” You stopped as you looked at Bishop, just staring at him for a second. You slowly spoke. “Are you...Are you blushing?” you asked, with a hint of disbelief in your voice.

Bishop’s eyes grew wide as he did his best to avoid your gaze. “What? No, no, of course not.”

Even though he tried his hardest to play it off, you had already seen his rosy cheeks and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

You smile, your fears now forgotten and replaced with confidence. Bishop wasn’t freaking out and hadn’t stormed off. Maybe this was a good sign.

“Did I - Did I get the ever hardcore, stoic, total badass MC Presidente to blush?” you teased, your confidence and certainty growing.

You watched as Bishop scrambled for something to say, a way to defend himself. “No, its - its - the cold.” He lied. You watched as he slightly cringed at his own words. For starters, Santo Padre didn’t know what cold was. Second, it was the beginning of summer, and even at 3 in the morning, it was insanely hot. Bishop doing everything in his power to avoid your gaze.

Your smirk grew, knowing full well what a blatant lie Bishop just told. You figured you’ll go along with it for shits and giggles. “The cold, huh? You sure it wasn’t the fact I told you your face is freaking adorable and I bet the rest of you is too?” You said with amusement lacing every word.

Bishop’s cheeks growing redder, “N-no!” he said as his voice cracked.

You laughed wholeheartedly and loud. After calming down to just soft giggles, you looked over at Bishop. “Oh, I’m sorry I made the big bad biker blush!” you chuckled as you take another sip of your tea. Bishop's just eyeing you with a smirk on his face as he takes a swig of his beer.

“Can I be completely truthful with you, Obispo?” you asked him with sincerity. Clearing his throat, he sits up straight as he nods.

“Of course, querida. You can tell me anything.” He tells you, placing his hand over yours on the table.

Taking a deep breath and then exhaling, “I like you Bishop, like, a lot, a lot. More than I think I have ever liked anyone before. I like you more than just a ‘You’d be an awesome fuck’ kind of way, I… I want us to be more than this… whatever this is. I know you may not feel the same way, and, that’s - that’s fine. I… I don’t want to pressure you into anything. If you don’t like me in that way, we can keep being friends; at least I hope we can keep being friends. Fuck, I hope I didn’t completely fuck everything up. I didn’t mess this all up, right?” you finished in one breath, looking over at Bishop with poorly concealed worry all over your face.

Bishop just stared at you in awe, you can tell he was processing everything you just spewed out at him, wrapping his head around the fact that you just said you liked him, that you wanted to be with him - an actual relationship with him.

You slowly felt yourself become more and more nervous, the fear setting in again. Waving your hand in Bishop’s face to get his attention, “Uh, you okay, Bish? Kind of freaking me out!” Bishop looked at you, still piecing together everything you had told him.

Bishop’s face flushed again, and he fumbled over his words, trying his best to compose himself. “I–you-wha - huh?” was all he got out. You had the once clearheaded man completely and utterly baffled.

“I know I spit out a lot just now, but I said that I like you Bishop. Would like to know where you stand here?” you chuckled to hide the fact that inside you were completely panicking.

Bishop rubbed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay, so, you like me… as in, you want to start a relationship… right?” he asked slowly, as though he was making sure he wasn’t misunderstanding the whole situation.

Your smile grew wider, trying your hardest to seem calm, like this was just a normal everyday conversation and not an awkward, albeit heartfelt, confession of love. “Yeah, exactly what I said.”

Bishop took a swig of his beer and leaned back in his seat, holding his breath for a moment before exhaling. All you could think was that this was it, this is where he completely rejects you. “[y/n]…” he began slowly, “I… I’ll be completely honest with you…” yep, here it comes, total rejection.

“I don’t like you… Because I love you.”

Quickly shooting up from your seat, taking a deep breath and exhaling, as you take a couple steps back, “Yeah, sorry, I knew the feelings weren’t reciprocated, that’s why I never said anything, it was stupid and -“ You were startled out of your rambling by a hand landing on you shoulder.

Lifting your head, you saw Bishop looking at you, amusement in his eyes. He had a serene smile on his face and he whispered, “Querida, did you hear anything I just said?” you just stared back at Bishop, bewilderment written all over your face.

“I just told you I loved you.” He said as he watched you take in his words.

Your eyes widened and this time it was your turn to blush, “Oh… OHHH!” you looked down at your feet, until Bishop gently placed his hand under your chin, lifting your head up so you were looking at him. You both looked directly into each other eyes, the raw emotions you each held for each other clear.

Slowly inching closer till your lips clashed together. You slowly melted into his kiss, eyes sliding shut and a content hum leaving your throat. You felt like you could stay in this moment of security forever. Both pulling apart rather reluctantly, standing there soaking in the love you held for each other.

Bishop gently caressed your cheek as he smiled down at you, “Can I stay here tonight?”

You smiled back at him, “That would be nice. And for the record, I love you to.” You tell him. He smiles down at you before his lips were taking yours. Kissing you harder, deeper, with a fervent, urgent need you’ve never known before.

--xx

#bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa imagine #mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine

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wtfevenismypage · 4 years

Text

Observer Not Profiler PT.3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You’re similar to a profiler, but you can tell almost anything about a person just from a single glance. What they had for dinner, if they took a bath or shower, their name, favorite color, if they lie, even if they’re good in bed. You’ve been running from the government ever since you got caught hacking into their systems and since then you have been diagnosed with Extreme anxiety, anxious tics, and paranoia. But now the BAU need you’re help in Identifying killers.

Warnings: maybe a curse word or two, mentions of death, anxious/nervous ticking, tic attacks

A/N: Hey all! Here’s part 3! Remember that requests are open! So is the taglist, however I may be closing the taglist in a few weeks! thank you for reading!

You never knew you were scared of being on private jets until Dr. Spencer Reid rolled along.

“Statistically, Private jets crash more so than commercial planes do. The rate is commonly expressed as the number of accidents per 100,000 flight hours. The accident and fatal-accident rates declined again in 2015. In fact, the fatal-accident rate fell below one to 0.84, meaning there was less than one fatal crash per 100,000 flight hours.”

You think he was trying to make you feel better, but it only made you even more terrified.

“I would like to join the Bureau!”

Emily smiles happily, she knew that getting to know you would be a blast, and your people reading skills would come in major handy.

“That’s wonderful!”

Garcia yells out before wrapping her arms around you, it makes you freeze at first, but the hesitation wears off and you hug her back before shaking hands with everyone else.

When you shake Dr. Reid’s hand, you linger for a second, barely a second, before shaking hands with Hotch.

“This is going to be difficult, you’ll need training.”

You nod, shaking his calloused hand firmly.

“Of course sir, I’m willing to go through all of the training in the world for this.”

He smiles, but barely, only noticeable if you were looking (which you are) and you feel ecstatic at the small gesture.

“Well, we have a jet to catch, so let’s hurry up. wheel’s up in thirty.”

The first few weeks of training were intense, you were physically trained by Morgan, he got you into shape and gifted you with a subtle six pack that you could see if you squinted hard enough.

Hotch trained you to handle a gun, which you kind of sucked at. Every time you shot it, you jumped five feet in the air and had a mini panic attack, which Hotch had to help you out with.

Emily, Rossi, and JJ made you into a pretty damn good interrogator, which made you smile every time they complimented you.

You were shocked when you learned that you actually did need lessons in profiling, you needed to learn certain behaviors at crime scenes when you couldn’t see the unsub. Reid helped you in that regard. He also told you all sorts of fun facts, which you happily listened to, you loved learning new things and you would even insist upon hearing the facts sometimes.

You and Penelope had races against each other to see who could get into what faster, so far you two were tied.

Today is the day though, your first day as an official member of the team. Surprisingly, you still couldn’t say the word profiler without spiraling, and you’ve been having anxious tic attacks all night and all morning.

As you walk into the doors to the big office in the early early morning, your wrists slam together twice, making you wince and rub them, feeling the bruises from last night scream in rage.

“I’ve gotta learn to stop that...”

You realize you’re the first in the office, so you just take a quick seat to try and ground yourself, but it instead spirals into a tic attack as you take in what’s finally happening after all of these long and torturous years.

“Y/L/N. You alright?”

You turn to the cold voice, seeing Hotch standing at the top of the stairs. You thought you were alone, you hoped you were, but if anyone was going to be at the office, you weren’t surprised it was Hotch.

“Oh, sorry sir, I’m just having first day nerves! I feel like I’m back in middle school...”

He flashes you an understanding half-smile, walking up to you and patting your shoulder.

“Don’t worry too much, everyone here is already obsessed with you, you’ll fit right in.”

You smile, trying to act like you were okay,but when your fist harshly collides with the side of your head, you sigh and clutch the now bruised spot.

“Well, the others should be here soon, your desk is right there, next to Reid’s.”

You couldn’t stop the pink heat that bum-rushed it’s way onto your cheeks, trying to avoid Hotch seeing by moving to your new desk an sitting down, subconsciously clapping your palm against the desk.

“Wowie. I’m all official and everything huh?”

You smirk before the door clicks open, people beginning to enter the once-empty office space and making your nerves go through the roof once again.

That is, until Derek and Reid walk in with Garcia chatting about something random with Emily laughing at her.

“Hey Y/L/N! How’s the day so far?”

Derek asks, sitting on your desk. You immediately swat him off with a fake pout painted across your lips.

“Hey, I just got this space, I’ll be d-damned if I let some-some sweaty man sit on it.”

They didn’t miss your nervous stuttering, but in the short time the team had known you, they knew you hated when your tics were the center of attention, so they simply gave sad smiles and moved on.

“We have a new case, Y/L/N, I’ll give you a moment to adjust, round table in ten.”

Hotch walks away, back to his office before Garcia plops down on your desk. Derek notices how you don’t shoo her off and throws a whole fit.

“So you kick me off but not Penelope?”

“Is Garcia a-a sweaty m-man? I don-don’t think so!”

You all laugh before they sit down, Reid sitting next to you and logging into his computer before setting his stuff down.

“You ready for your first case?”

Reid asks, you shrug in response, a nervous smile plastered on your face.

“I g-guess we’ll find-find out.”

Your wrists slam together again, making you hiss in pain a bit, Reid looks concerned and takes one of your wrists in his hand, gently brushing one of his long, slender fingers over your bruised nerves.

“Well a better question, are these going to heal correctly?”

He asked with a sudden seriousness that you didn’t particularly enjoy.

“Well I don’t know Mr. Genius, why don’t you tell me?”

He looks up at your sarcastic words and smiles a bit, cheeks being brushed with a bit of red as he answers.

“Well they won’t heal properly with your tics, if anything they could get worse, the veins in your wrists will actually get really damaged and it could affect your entire nervous system, you might want to get it-”

“Spencer, as much as I love listening to your rants, and I do, I don’t love listening to the ones about my health being in danger.”

He smiles and discontinues the topic, letting you take your wrists out of his gentle grip and returning to your computer.

“Alright everyone, let’s get to the round table.”

Throughout the entire case, you stick close with Reid, he made you feel safer than the others somehow. He didn’t say anything about you being with him the entire time, he just accepted the helpful points you gave him.

One night, you two were up all night trying to find a connection, laying out on top of a desk, listening to Mozart (he insisted) and trying to make a connection between the victims.

You had gotten so excited when you finally made a connection you started jumping up and down with Spencer, holding his hands happily as he joined your silly theatrics.

He seemed to be the only person that can relax your anxiety, even just standing around him helped slow your tics. You didn’t know why he relaxed you, he just did.

On the jet back to the BAU, the two of you shared earbuds to listen to classical music, you had left your headphones back in Oregon so Spencer offered his left earbud.

Even back at the offices when you were working with Penelope, he brought you green tea, telling you it would still keep you awake but it wouldn’t make you as jittery or paranoid as coffee would.

As soon as he left, Garcia started looking at you weird, giving you googly eyes.

“What?”

“You like him don’t you!?”

Your jaw drops, eyebrows furrowing down, your cheeks get all rosy. No way! You didn’t like him like that, you just enjoyed his company.

“No I don’t! You’re finally going crazy huh?”

“You totally do! You’re getting all blushy and everything!”

“I don’t like him like that! I’ve never liked anyone like that, why would it start now huh? It wouldn’t. I don’t like him.”

She gives you a doubtful look, but drops it, letting you spin around to another computer while sipping on your freshly hot green tea.

The next day, you take the elevator up with Spencer, Derek, and JJ, JJ and Derek were talking about some show, while you listened to Spencer ramble about how unrealistic the show was.

“But Spencer, Dr. Who isn’t very realistic, but you still love it don’t you?”

“Well yeah, but I’m immediately biased to Dr. Who for my love of it, with any other movie or show, I don’t hesitate to point out faults.”

You chuckle at that, Spencer’s passion for Dr. Who was unmatched for anyone else’s love for any show. It’s insane.

“Okay before pretty boy goes on about Dr. Who for hours, let’s escape.”

The doors open, allowing you and the other team members to walk in. Your desk was still fairly empty, not even a plant there to accompany your computer, you were still holding onto your runaway life, whether you admit it or not.

“Y/L/N, I need to talk to you. My office now.”

“What was that about?”

Panic bubbles to your chest, Hotch’s tone was too assertive, too aggresive. It was scary.

“I don’t know...”

Taglist:

@imsuperawkward @ithinkilovetruecrimetoomuch @l0ve-0f-my-life @hopebaker @thatonezesty13 @nightlygiggless @aberrant-annie @holybatflapexpert @spencerreidisbootiful @april-14-blog @jackryan-plz @ajwantsapancake @lightswriting @emilouu @yourmisosoup @lizziebritish @101donuts @rainsong01 @pretty-boy-genius @squirrellover1967 @gublerstyles @delievia @boxofsparklingmuses @annestine

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violetnemerald · 3 years

Text

You Don’t Know Me: Chapter 1

Gotham has always been known for its underworld. The underworld operated with great success thanks to the rich who put up the facade that Gotham was a great place to live and not one where crime families ruled. No crime family was more feared than the Wayne’s. Damian Wayne was the heir to the family business, destined to take over after his father.

Damian sat at the bar against the wishes of his guards. At the bar he was exposed, stripped of protection, which was exactly how he liked it. If he was going to be making a business deal he liked to give the other party a sense of vulnerability. With this many make the mistake of becoming vulnerable themselves which could in the end be used to exploit them and ultimately getting what he intended. On this particular day Damian was tasked with renegotiating terms with Trigon about his little drug operations. Trigon had invented and sold a little drug he liked to call Sin. Sin plagued many of Gotham citizens, both wealthy and poor, with addiction. Trigon had made the most demanded drug to ever hit the streets of Gotham City. While both Bruce and Trigon got along the tensions were still high. The meeting today was in regards to solving said tensions, or at least making them a little less suffocating.

Damian glanced around the restaurant taking notes of where his guards had situated themselves. As much as he wanted his freedom he always had to earn it through deception and distraction. His father prefered him with a guard in case any rivals attempted to take out the heir. Damian, having been trained to be an assassin by his mother, wished someone would try so he could finally prove himself to not need the surveillance.

Damian glanced down at the golden liquid swirling around his cup. He had been waiting long enough to be a glass and half in. The sound of a wooden door caught his attention causing him to turn his head towards the front of the restaurant.

Through the door two men walk in, following behind them is a woman hidden by their tall stature. From what he could see of her she was looking down focusing on what he assumes is something in her hands. Damian’s gaze lingers noting a faint familiarity to the way the woman presents herself. Turning his attention away he pulls out his phone taking a quick glance at the time. Six thirty- four great. I’m willing to give this guy six more minutes before I walk out that doo-

“Mr. Wayne.” a delicate voice interupts from beside him. A girl, interesting tactic Trigon, Damian thought as he moved to face the source of the voice. With every inch his eyes move up the more familiar it feels, until his emerald eyes meet her slightly violet eyes. Shocked was an understatement for how he feels in this moment. Damian hadn’t been expecting Trigon himself however he certainly did not expect the girl he’d been sleeping with for weeks to walk through that door. He shifts in his seat before composing himself. There are too many people around, too many witnesses, to reveal this girl as his weakness.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” Her eyes full of panic as she herself attempts to understand the situation. Damian could not blame her. When they met he didn’t share his real name in fear she would’ve run away. He sees now that that was not the case. The innocent girl he knew as Rachel was just as much wrapped up in the ways of the Gotham underworld as he was. Taking control of the situation Damian gets up offering out his hand.

“No you have the right person. Damian Wayne.” He says sternly while looking at her hoping she would catch the “go along” tone.

“Uhh yeah… Raven.” She stretches out her hand to meet his. Her hand molds to his, the touch sending a wave of warmth through his torso, ultimately allowing thoughts of their previous encounter to rush in. She did so many things to him, including completely disarming him with the brush of her fingers. Pale fingers slowly remove themselves from his grasp, savoring every inch of contact before falling to her side. Raven lowers herself into the chair right next to him, stiff, unwilling to move in fear that one miscalculated action could lead to her life unraveling.

“I did not realize Trigon had a daughter. But I can see why he would keep a beautiful woman a secret. You are a secret weapon to him. ” Rosey lips turn upward, in addition a slight eye roll as Damian’s playful remark falls on Raven’s ears. Just as quickly the tension blew in the door it fades with that bright smile of hers. “Unfortunately it’s going to take a lot more than a pretty face to disarm me.”

“Whose says my purpose is to disarm you. I’m here because my father trusts me, and will be leaving me in charge if something were to happen to him.” She retaliates, as she pulls out a series of files her dad gave to her as she left. Placing the manilla folder on the bar top in front of them. An empty glass and a napkin, which she was sure was for her, pushed away to make room for more important matters.

“I’m sure you get whatever you want. Don’t you Rae?” The last word slipping out, as it was habit. Despite how natural it flowed from his mouth it was not lost on him, nor her, the mistake he just made.

The panic returns this time, mixing with threat. It was a dangerous game they were playing, and with so many spectators someone was bound to pick up on something. “Can I call you Rae?” He continues, playing off his slip up as charm.

Raven makes no comment. Sometimes the best response was no response. Instead she chooses to keep a stern face and look down and shuffle through the papers on the bar in front of them. Pulling out a list of demands made by her father and placing it on top of the array of sheets. Raven glances at Damian through the corners of her eyes. He studys the various documents put in front of him, eyes flicking from paper to paper. His face remains still, no indication that anything on the papers surprises him or even spikes an interest. His hand extends to the glass near him bringing to his lips. The edge lingering on his lips before he tilts the glass and finishes the rest of its contents in one sip.

“These terms are ridiculous. I’m sorry but has your father been sampling his own product. He is insane to think that we would even consider these terms. Come back when you have realistic terms.” He stands up. The chair makes a noise as it scrapes across the floors. He buttons his suit and makes his approach to leave, but before he does he looks back at her. Once more their eyes meet and all the surroundings fading before coming right back into focus. No wrong moves.

“Also... what do you want? I know what your father wants but what do you want?” He questions with less anger in his tone before he turns to head out the door. Raven watches as half the people in the bar get up and follow the young man out the door.

_________________________________

Raven knocks once on the door, making herself known. When they had developed the one knock system she thought it was going to be just for her assurance, she now realizes that it is a two way street. They are more similar than she previously thought. Here she was thinking he would never understand why they had to meet in secret or who she really was, but in reality he was probably thinking the same things.

The door opens revealing him. A tan face interrupted by green orbs. A face that she was now looking at for the second time today. She quickly walks through the small opening brushing past him. The door slamming shut behind her. He turns a hunger in his eyes. Oh had she been looking forward to this meet all day, and it was only heightened by their unplanned meeting. All she wanted to do at the bar was have her way with him in the bathroom, but surroundings limited their interactions, which she was not all too happy about.

“I figured out what I want.” Her voice just above a whisper as she takes a step, closing the gap between them. Raven leans up her lips meeting his, desperate to feel his body against hers. With her close and without the watchful eyes of others Damian felt no shame in grabbing her hips and pulling it against him. His thumbs digging deep into her hip bones. Desperate and needy pale fingers tug at the bottom of his shirt. The two breaking long enough for him to slip the shirt over his head. As he takes off his shirt she takes off hers, taking advantage of the time apart as she didn’t want to waste anymore of their time together.

Dipping back down his lips find their way to her neck, her head rolling at the feeling. His path of kisses continues to her bra strap, stopping to look into her eyes. The only emotion she could see behind green barriers was lust.

With one hand still holding her hips, Damian raised his other hand to the clasp of the bra. He took one side of the bra in between his index and middle finger. With his thumb he pushed on the fabric just past the clasp, the hooks unlatching from their holds. With the lack of tension, the bra straps fall down her arms. She allows the bra to fall to ground between them before bringing her hands back to his cheeks, pulling him towards the bed with her. The back of her knees meet the edge of the bed before she falls back onto the sheets, Damian following soon after.

____________________________________

“So your real name is Raven huh.” Damian looks at the woman as they both come down from their euphoric states.

“Yeah…” Raven can feel how rosy her cheeks are getting as she looks down letting her cover her face, hiding in shame. “I couldn’t exactly come out and say my real name. But you shouldn’t be saying anything, you did the same thing Damian Al Ghul.” Raven says mocking the last name he originally gave her.

Damian rolls over to get out of the bed, Raven catching a glimpse of the slight eye roll. If it was anyone else they would’ve interpreted his actions as anger or annoyance, but Raven knew better by now. He liked that she could give it right back to him, in more ways than one.

“So, shall we talk about the terms of your surrender?” His head turns to the side, just enough to see her face. His eyes shooting daggers at her.

“Fine no business with pleasure.” Raven concedes, knowing she hit a nerve. In the little time she knew him, and as much as she teased him, she had never seen him that angered by something she said. He fully turns to face her this time, any remnant of the anger gone, all that was left was his normal face, with a hint of sincerity.

“By the way, I was serious about that, Rae.”

“Serious about what?”

“Thinking about what you want. You have the power to change what you’d like, take advantage. Make sure you get what you want out of the deal. You can turn that so-called family business into whatever you want, without your father’s watchful eye. You are smart, and very powerful and make people fear messing with you.”

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

Thank you so much for reading. I know this was sloppy and well, could use a lot more editing, but I wanted to get this up today. I may at a later date edit this but until then this is it and I will get started on the next part tomorrow.

#damirae #damian #raven #raven roth #Damian Wayne #Damian al Ghul #Rachel Roth #Trigon #you don't know me au #damian x raven #raven x robin #robrae

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wonderlustlucas · 4 years

Text

jack pot ; part 3 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 6.4k ⇢ genre fluff & angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way) ⇢ warnings (18+) drug use, a suggestive make out & the mention of a boner twice maybe ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n AAAAAAAA omg im so excited to post this, this by far is my fav part of jack pot & i cant wait to hear what u all think!!! sorry its a bit shorter than the other parts, & technically this is the *last* part, but there will be an epilogue where you will see how everything comes to be!!!! have fun reading!!! <3

⇠ part 2

five.

“Oh, fuck, he’s good,” Yeji gasps, shoving her phone into Maddie’s hands before faceplanting into the table.

“Are you H-T-T-P because I’m colon-slash-slash without you,” Maddie reads with a chuckle, thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. “Quick, YN, look up some pick-up lines.”

Closing the tab on the article you should be reading but has been long forgotten, you promptly do as you are told and open the first link from your search, Minho and Jisung leaning in to help. “There,” Jisung stops you, pointing to one, “’Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.’”

The table can’t help but burst into laughter at such a sentence. It’s stupid, but ever since Yeji and Kim Sunwoo began texting, their conversations have been full of tacky puns and emoji-filled compliments.

“Damn,” Maddie whistles, setting the phone back into Yeji’s limp hand, “he’s already typing back.”

“Gross,” Ryujin teases, busy typing away on her laptop. How she manages to multitask so well is a skill you certainly lack. “Why don’t you just like, I don’t know, ask him out?” Jisung asks and when you glance up, he’s looking at you. “Because that’s the guy’s job,” Maddie quickly saves the day, winking to you when you send her a grateful smile.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin scoffs. Everyone, even Ryujin, stops to look at him.

Did he just curse?

“I mean, like,” he stammers, cheeks turning rosy at all the attention, “it’s 2020. Guys have insecurities, too.”

“I agree,” Minho hums, looking to Maddie with hearts in his eyes, “that kind of confidence is enough to make any boy fall in love.”

“Yeah, but—”

Lia rebuts, but your attention quickly falls elsewhere when a text message first appears on your laptop, then your phone.

hwang hyunjin🦔🕺🏻💞🧻 [now] Where r u rn?

Unable to fight your smile, you quickly type back.

[3:39 PM] YN: outside hollin st café [3:39 PM] YN: why? :)

“Have you seen their new house, YN?” Minho asks, prompting you to click your phone off and set it back on the table. “Whose house?”

“Changbin’s parents.”

“Oh,” shaking your head, you distantly curse Chan for keeping your friend busy today. Unlike Jisung, Changbin likes to write lyrics and do whatever other music stuff during the day at a normal time instead of the middle of the fucking night while stoned and trying to finish his computer science assignments at the same time. “No, he forgot to send me pictures.”

“Dude,” Jisung sighs dreamily, “it’s huge. So nice. I think the front door alone could cover tuition.”

“Is it really that nice?” Maddie asks in awe.

“He started to show me pics the other day but couldn’t finish but the kitchen… unnecessary,” Ryujin quips, pausing her work to check her phone. “Yeah, it’s insane. The whole place is unnecessary but the kitchen is like, a house in itself,” Jeongin hums, head shaking in disbelief.

“Damn, now I really want to see it,” you sigh, making a mental note to hunt Changbin down so he can show you. “It’s like Hyunjin and his rings,” Minho snickers, “he has so many. Whenever we’re out, if he sees a ring, boom. It’s his.”

Well, he’s not wrong but… You bite your tongue no matter how badly you wish to defend Hyunjin and his affinity for rings and jewelry in general. The boy has taste, what can you say? You certainly are not complaining about Hyunjin’s long fingers and the way he chooses to decorate them.

“I never thought I’d hear Changbin’s parent’s kitchen be analogous to Hyunjin’s jewelry collection, yet here we are,” Maddie chuckles, leaning over Yeji to peek at her conversation with Sunwoo.

“Wow, speak of the devil,” Jisung pipes up of course as soon as you have reopened the tab to your assignment. Changbin or Hyunjin, you don’t know, head whipping up to find out and a peculiar mix of relief and panic settling over you once you spot the latter. “Uh oh, YN’s gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

As subtly as you can, you elbow Jisung in the stomach and smile at Hyunjin as he nears. “Hey,” keeping his eyes on you, Hyunjin approaches your table and stops behind Maddie opposite from you, “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you were busy.” His cheeks, already flushed, burn pinker once he looks away to smile weakly at everyone else.

“I’m not busy!” You squeak, scrambling to close your laptop and shove it in your bag. “Are you sure? I can come back later?” He offers, tilting his head and this is when you realize he is holding a bubble tea in each hand. And from the looks of it, one seems to be your usual order. “No, she’s not,” Jeongin answers for you, recognizing your stupefied expression.

“I was just – yeah. No,” rushing to stand and swing your legs out around the bench, you nearly fall flat on your face, “I wasn’t doing anything, actually.” Steadying yourself with a hand on Minho’s shoulder, you heave a labored breath before carefully walking to meet Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he beams, either oblivious to how flustered you are or simply choosing to ignore it. Turning to wave to your friends, he hands you one of the cups and you realize it is, in fact, your favorite boba. Oh boy. “See ya later,” you wave to them as well, nose wrinkling when both Jisung and Maddie wink in return.

Following after Hyunjin, you finally allow yourself to take notice of his attire and can’t help but feel confused. He looks good. And not in the good attractive way—he always looks good. But good as in formal. It’s four o’clock on a Tuesday in October and he’s out here looking as if he just got out of a business meeting. White button-down tucked into fitted black slacks, dress shoes, black tie, and he even has a black suit jacket draped over his arm. His hair is styled, too; ever since he dyed it back to black, he’s been growing it out long enough for his bangs to cover his eyes. Now, however, it’s parted down the middle and seems as if he’s ever so slightly curled it away from his face.

Suddenly, you feel ridiculous walking beside him in mom jeans and a baggy sweatshirt from high school.

“Thanks for the boba,” you mumble around your straw, brain still preoccupied trying to get over how utterly handsome he is. “Why do you look so fancy?”

The side of his mouth twitches up at your words, but his eyes stay glued to the sidewalk as you continue to your unknown destination. “I had an audition,” Hyunjin admits, voice devoid of emotion as if it’s not important at all. “An audition?” You echo. “Why do you sound so not super mega excited? How did it go? What was it for?”

“Well—”

“Wait!” You interrupt, stopping your walk once you realize he had an audition and you didn’t know. “You had an audition? What – why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyunjin frowns, avoiding your gaze and dragging his bottom teeth over his top lip. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he finally says before reaching for your hand and tugging you away from the walkway and into your campus’ main courtyard. “Why? Is it some sort of secret or something, Hyunjin?” You scoff, sounding way more annoyed than you intended. But you are annoyed; why didn’t he want to tell anyone?

“No,” he sighs, finding an empty area in the grass and lowering himself to sit, “I just… didn’t want anyone to know. Didn’t want to make it a big deal.”

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, visibly softening for him and settling down next to him, crisscrossing your legs, “it is a big deal. I don’t know what it’s for, but if it’s important enough for you to audition, then it’s important to us, too. You don’t need to be humble twenty-four-seven, you know. I’m sure you could have used our support.”

“I didn’t get it, though,” Hyunjin whispers, “they just – I didn’t get in. I wasn’t good enough.” Sensing the sadness in his voice, you find a lump forming in your throat when you notice the way his bottom lip trembles. “Hey,” panicking, you set your boba down and sit up on your knees to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head into your chest once tears start falling, “no. Don’t ever say you’re not good enough, Hyunjin.”

“But if I did better, practiced more, than I would—"

“Stop,” you hush, combing your fingers through his hair and brushing strands away from his eyes, “I’ve never met someone who works as hard as you do. You can’t beat yourself up over this. Everything happens for a reason. You don’t know what could have happened if you got in. You could have hurt yourself eventually, or maybe met someone who’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, quiet and muffled when he turns to press his forehead into your sternum, body still trembling as he lets out all his tears. You stay like that for a while, holding him against you and soothing a hand up and down his back until his sniffling falls quiet. “Listen,” you finally sigh, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back. Your heart sinks once you take in the wet trails down his cheeks and the puffiness of his eyes. “Forget about it. Was it something for dance?”

When he nods subtly, you cup his face in your hands and swipe his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are an amazing dancer, Hyunjin. You can’t let this get to your head. And I don’t want you working your ass off more than you do already. Practice makes perfect, sure, but you need to rest. What about the idea Changbin came up with?”

“The YouTube thing?”

“Yes! Filming dance tutorials or just posting your routines is a really good idea,” you remind him, wiping your hands on your jeans once he falls back onto the grass with a gentle thud, hair flaying around him like a halo. Your limbs twitch with the urge to lie beside him, maybe throw an arm around him and rest your cheek on his chest, fingers tracing the soft features of his face, stroking through his hair and reminding him just how innately perfect he is, inside and out. You, of course, resist such a temptation, flopping down beside him and staring up at the clouds with a heavy heart.

“I could do that. Maybe,” Hyunjin huffs. Tilting your head to look at him, you find yourself knee-deep in that familiar longing feeling, pausing simply to appreciate how pretty he is in the evening sun, cheeks rosy from crying and hair begging to be touched. Shaking your head to rid such daydreams, you remind yourself how fragile his emotions are right now. Now is no time to get caught up on a fantasy. Reaching for your tea, you lean up on an elbow and redirect your gaze to the trees, the promise of winter having turned what was green burnt sienna and butterscotch, leaving trees barren and branches swaying gently in the crisp breeze that leaves you curling into yourself. “You should,” you hum, distant, mind clawing to come up with the words you want to say.

“Come here,” Hyunjin says now, voice stronger than before and when his hand wraps gently around your wrist, you can’t find it in yourself to resist. Allowing him to pull you back down beside him, you curl into his side, resting your head a safe distance away from his own and onto the curve of his arm. “Thank you for being so good to me,” he expresses. You squeeze your eyes shut when the arm you lie on wraps around your shoulders and pulls you substantially closer. “I need to tell you something.”

A long stretch of silence falls upon you and for a moment, you are unsure the words even left your mouth. What are you thinking?

“Wait! I have something first,” Hyunjin sighs, missing the way your breath hitches. “Okay,” you whisper, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt and focusing all your attention there.

“I just – I think… I owe you an apology,” he finally says, “I need to apologize for something that I did a while ago that I know probably hurt.” Your chest tightens. There’s a lot that has hurt you when it comes to Hyunjin, but none that he’s done purposely. None that are his fault. None that he should be apologizing for.

“I feel like we came to some mutual understanding to not mention what happened when we were freshmen, but it kills me to know that – that something happened, and we never talked about it,” Hyunjin starts, grip tightening on your shoulder and suddenly, you think you are dreaming. This cannot possibly be real. “I know it was awkward but, I also know me and Yiren dating was… ah. I don’t know.”

When he falls silent, you are unsure of what to say or do. You have no idea what the end goal of this conversation is. Hardly a minute ago, your heart and your brain decided it was time to tell him. Now, you’re not so sure you can do that until he finishes, and you are not about to give him your two cents if his reasoning for bringing it up is not the same as yours.

“I just want to apologize for not being brave enough to talk to you about it. I know I was confused, but I’m sure it was worse for you when they told you about her,” Hyunjin continues, sensing your rendered silence, “and it’s been so long since that happened, and now, you’re one of my closest friends.” Ouch.

“But I’ve been thinking,” when he picks up again, your eyes fly open in a panic. He’s been thinking. Hyunjinhas been thinking. You think you are going to pass out. “And I just feel like we… me and you, I mean—"

The standard iPhone alarm blares from beside you, promptly cutting him off and you think it is the biggest cockblock known to man. “Shit,” he hisses, leaning up to tug his phone from his pocket and in the process nudging you from your comfortable position. Sitting back up, nerves aflame and heart racing, your brows shoot up in confusion when all he does is stare at the number calling him. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the studio I was just at,” he scoffs in disbelief, barely glancing at you before looking back to his phone. You have never wanted to shrivel up and die as much as you want to right now. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer?”

Hyunjin makes a noise of acknowledgement before tapping the green icon and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Sitting quietly beside him, you watch with a forced smile as his hummed responses and subtle nods morph into enthusiastic laughs and wide, beaming smiles. Hyunjin notices your confusion when you tilt your head, mouthing a ‘What?’ to him.

“They made a mistake,” he whispers, covering the speaker of his phone, “read off the wrong Hwang. I’m in.” When he grins excitedly at you, your response isn’t as cheerful as it could be. As it should be. “Yay!” You whisper, clapping gently but quickly turning to your boba when the other line begins speaking again. Looking away, you take a hefty sip, nearly choke on a tapioca ball, and build the walls around your heart up all over again in a matter of seconds.

“I’ve gotta go,” whispering, you manage one more pained smile before getting to your feet and wiping your butt of any possible grass stains, “good luck!” When he shines you one more breathtaking smile and waves excitedly, you hastily head in the other direction, wrapping your arms around yourself and swallowing past the lump that threatens to form the farther you walk.

It must be nice, you think, frantically wiping at your waterline. Must be nice to put yourself out there and have things work out the way you want them to. Must be nice being told you’re ‘in,’ you’re wanted, you’re desired.

It must be nice.

six.

Pick up food, you said. Ask Jisung, you said.

Your conscience is a big fat oompa loompa ass bitch. You would have never called Jisung to ask him if he wanted anything from Taco Bell if you knew he was with Changbin. And not just Changbin, you realized four minutes into your call; Seungmin and Hyunjin, too. Apparently he went over their place to record, or something, and didn’t care to let you know. Not that you’re his mom and he has too—but it would have been nice, and would have saved you from spending almost fifty dollars at Taco Bell.

“I tried calling Jisung but he didn’t answer,” you snap once Seungmin answers your call with a muffled hello. “Can one of you please come out and help me carry this in?” You glance at the five large sodas and two bags full of food in your passenger seat with a grimace. “Sure,” he agrees and you make a mental note for the umpteenth time just how much you love Seungmin, “I’ll be out in a sec.”

True to his word, you spot him making his way out of their apartment and across the small courtyard to meet you by your car not even a minute later, hauling each bag under his arms. “Thank you,” left only with the cupholder, you hurriedly lock your car and follow after him. “No problem. Thanks for being our Uber Eats,” then, pursing his lips, “how much was this?”

“Forty-seven something,” you grumble unhappily, knowing this was a big hit to your debit. “We’ll pay you back, don’t worry,” Seungmin smiles, leading you up the final flight of stairs and kicking open the ajar door.

Immediately, you’re hit with the smell.

“Dear, fucking hell,” making a face, you rub your nose to keep from sneezing, “it reeks in here. How have you guys not been kicked out yet?”

The stench of weed generally does not bother you anymore, but still—they could light a candle, or something. Seungmin shrugs, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Luck, I guess.”

“IS THAT YN?” From another room, you hear Changbin shout, followed by an excited shriek from Jisung. “They’re high. Very high. You’ve been warned,” Seungmin whispers just as tweedle dee and tweedle dum themselves come flying around the corner. “YN!” Jisung grins, engulfing you in a dramatic hug. “Watch,” you hiss, regarding the blunt held between his fingers that comes dangerously close to your hair.

“Sorry,” he smiles, then, without warning, sticks the thing right between your lips. “I didn’t even offer.” Well, when life gives you lemons…

You hesitantly take the hit and blow the smoke away from him. You weren’t planning on getting high today, but here you are. “Thanks,” shaking your head as if that will clear it, you turn to Changbin and snugly wrap your arms around him. Every day you thank the heavens that he is a chill, calm high, unlike your maniac of a roommate.

“Thanks for the food,” fishing into his pockets and pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, he slaps it into your palm. You only hum in reply, shoving it into your own pocket and praying you don’t lose it before you remember to put it in your wallet. “Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask, no longer caring about being slick.

“In his room,” Seungmin answers, rummaging through the bags to find what he ordered. Then, “HYUNJIN!” You jump, reaching for your soda and standing away from the other three until they have claimed whatever belongs to them. No sooner than Seungmin calls for him, you hear a door being cracked open and out comes Hyunjin.

He looks extremely disheveled. Like, just woke up from a two-month hibernation, disheveled. In the blink of an eye, however, he rakes a hand through long blonde hair and promptly sets a baseball cap backwards to keep the strands away and suddenly, he doesn’t look so disheveled anymore. You force yourself to look away, cursing the way your gut twists.

“Gimme my crunchwrap,” you say around your straw, snatching the blunt from Jisung’s fingers and moving around him to fetch your dinner. He doesn’t even protest.

He knows you need it more than he does.

“That’s a lot of food,” Hyunjin says once he has finally entered the kitchen, voice groggy and eyes puffy from sleep. Or from being high, you can’t tell. Pressing his chest to your back, he wraps one arm around you to keep you against him while the other reaches into a bag to take what’s his. Swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, you manage a thick inhale from the blunt before tilting your head to look at him and mentally thanking the other three for taking it as their cue to head out.

“Not my fault you guys eat like animals,” you chuckle shakily, trying to ignore the firmness of his body against yours, veins prominent on the arm that holds you against him and the ripple of muscle along his abdomen noticeable even through his shirt and yours. Dear god, it is too early for this. Not even seven o’clock and you are already drooling in more places than one.

Hyunjin pouts as if it is not true. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, finally moving away to grab his drink and you can’t help your disappointment, quickly finishing the blunt before tapping it out into one of the many ashtrays. “Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, digging through their drawers for a paper plate.

“YN,” Hyunjin deadpans, regarding you with a raised brow once you come up and begin unwrapping your food. You refuse to look him in the eye. “What do I owe you?” He repeats, firmer this time and it sends a chill down your spine when it most certainly should not. Sighing, you retrieve the receipt from your pocket and count everything he got. “Thirteen.”

Humming in content, Hyunjin reaches for his wallet on the counter and pulls a ten and five out. “There,” he beams, tucking the bills into your pocket himself. Rolling your eyes, you pray he does not notice how you flush and hurry out of the kitchen to join Seungmin on the sofa.

“House Hunters?” You ask with a laugh, looking at the TV once you have settled next to him. “I told you HGTV is the best.”

Seungmin hums in agreement. “I thought it was stupid at first, but Hyunjin was watching Fixer Upper and I got addicted,” he says, nodding to the older boy doing a little dance in the kitchen as he eats one of his tacos. Your heart does somersaults at the sight. “They’re all so good,” you agree after taking a few bites of your own food, eyes trained on the television, “House Hunters is a classic, though.”

“I like the international one,” Hyunjin adds on his way over, crashing unceremoniously next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Seungmin wrinkle his nose when Hyunjin sets his free hand casually on your thigh. “Shh,” he grumbles, vaguely gesturing to the screen and chewing a mouthful of food, “I wanna hear what the house has.”

One episode turns to two, which turns to three, which turns to four, and suddenly you have been watching House Hunters with Seungmin and Hyunjin for almost three hours. It definitely is the weed, always making time perpetually slower, and it did not help when Jisung and Changbin reappeared sometime during your binge with one of Felix’s bongs. Not necessarily how you intended to spend your precious Friday night, but there is no sense in complaining when you are with your buddies and Hyunjin, of course.

Taco Bell long gone, you watch with blurry eyes when Hyunjin gets up from his slumped position against you to head into the kitchen and open the freezer. This, as well as the realization that House Hunters has ended and gone to some other, not-as-cool show, brings both you and Seungmin somewhat back to reality.

“It’s almost ten,” Seungmin announces, staring dazedly at the time on his phone. You hum in acknowledgment, certainly sober enough to reply but simply too lazy to. “I think I’m going to bed. Or play something. Don’t wreck the place,” he sighs, dragging a hand down his face before standing up. “G’night, Minnie,” you smile, watching with a furrowed brow as he continues down the hall and into his room. It isn’t until you hear his door click shut does the weight of being alone with Hyunjin settle on your chest.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone with Hyunjin before. In fact, that usually is the way it’s been in the past three years; whether the two of you decided to do your own thing or the rest of your friends eventually left or went to bed, you are used to this feeling. Used to ignoring the butterflies in your gut when he does something particularly cute and used to tampering down the mental images you conjure up knowing it’s just you and him.

But that doesn’t make things any easier. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t help but feel this way around Hyunjin, especially when you’re alone. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Hyunjin asks around one last spoonful of ice cream before setting the pint back into the freezer. “Uhh…” You drone, blinking heavily at the TV and back to him as he makes his way back over. “I dunno, I’m sure you’ve been watching some drama. You can put that on.”

“You sure?” He asks with a raised brow, collapsing next to you and slumping dramatically halfway down the cushions. “Yes,” laughing, you find yourself reaching out to tuck messy strands of hair back behind his ear without hesitation, “also, why are you wearing a hat inside?”

Hyunjin pauses, straining to look up as if he will be able to see the back of his cap against his forehead. “I’m wearing a hat?”

“Yes, you idiot,” in comes the endless weed giggles and you find yourself unable to stop laughing, watching with teary eyes as he sits up and takes his hat off. “I don’t remember putting this on,” he chuckles airily, flipping the cap back and forth in his hands before tossing it onto the coffee table. “Should I cut it?”

“No!” You shout a little too quickly and a little too loudly. Shrinking against the arm of the couch, you ignore his amused smile and look to his long hair, freshly bleached strands falling down to his neck and shorter pieces brushing against his cheeks. Fuck, it should be illegal to look this good. “I like it long. It really suits you.”

“It’s annoying,” Hyunjin grins despite his complaint, lifting his legs onto the couch and flopping onto his side, head now resting on your lap. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Now that he’s offered playing with his hair on a silver platter, you don’t hesitate combing your fingers through it, tugging out pieces stuck under his head and brushing it out completely. “You could pull the sides back,” you hum distantly, separating a section of hair near his temple to pull back, “or make a bun with what you can. You just have to play around with it.”

Humming in agreement, Hyunjin resituates himself after reaching for the remote and switching to Netflix. When you go back to simply raking your fingers from root to tip in irregular directions, you don’t miss the way his eyelids flutter at the motion and make sure to pay extra attention to his scalp. When this turned into a head massage, you’re not entirely sure.

The drama Hyunjin puts on is unbearable. You stopped paying attention a while ago, focusing more on him and how he seems to enjoy it, fingers busy braiding random sections of hair, taking them out, and then braiding them again. With two finally done the way you want them to, you are midway through the third when your fingers begin to cramp up.

“Why’d you stop?” Hyunjin asks seconds after you drop the braid and stretch your fingers out. “Fingers are cramping,” chuckling at the disappointed pout of his lips, you crack what knuckles you can before going back and undoing the unfinished braid. “Oh,” he mutters, cheek still pressed against your leg, “feels good.”

Humming in response, you ignore the way his words make your heart swell and begin gathering all his hair into a ponytail, pressing the braids to lay flat and finally tying it with a hair tie once you have combed up all that you can. Immediately, his bangs and hairs closer to the nape of his neck fall out, leaving the ponytail spikey and messy. At least the braids look good. You can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, pausing his show and leaning up. “What’d you do?”

“Go see for yourself,” pointing to the bathroom, you comb out a looped piece of hair before he stands to do just that. His ponytail bobs the entire walk there.

When he reaches the door and flips the light on, you watch from your position as he checks himself out, brushing away his bangs and flicking the pony. You frown when he accidentally yanks at a braid.

“Come here,” you say, sitting up, “you messed up the braid.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin considers his reflection one last time before skipping his way over, “it doesn’t look half bad.” Expecting him to sit back next to you, your pulse quickens when he anchors a hand to the armrest and leans in front you, only inches away from your face. “No, definitely,” you say once you have gotten over the shock of him being so close so suddenly, “I like it in the ponytail. You’d really impress the girls if you braided your hair yourself.” Reaching up to tuck hair back into the braid and press it down flat once more, you don’t miss the way his brows draw together and lips twitch down. “What?”

Time ceases to exist as Hyunjin begins to come closer. In reality, you know it simply is a matter of seconds, but all of space and time seems to still once he leans forward. It feels as if an eternity goes by, allowing you to count each individual eyelash, memorize the details of his skin, take note of the smoothed lines on his plump lips. The way time slows is cruel; it allows panic to set in, the realization that he most certainly is looming over you with his eyes on your lips sending a spark of excitement and anxiety through your veins.

And then, just as this realization and this panic has set your nerves aflame, a gentle hand comes to cradle your jaw before Hyunjin’s lips press against yours.

It is so easy to surrender to the taste and touch of him. Instantly, an eruption of emotions and thoughts spiraling out of control fills you, yet your brain focuses only on Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. This is not the first time you have kissed him, nor the first time simply having him so close, but the feeling that radiates from your heart outward is unlike anything you have felt before. This is uncalled for. This is not like two years ago. You were not expecting this.

Hyunjin sighs into the kiss when you lean up to loop your arms around his neck. No sooner have you done this, he breaks away to sit beside you once more, hands reaching for your waist and guiding you to sit over his lap.

You could kiss him all day, you think, palms lying flat by his collarbones before fisting the material of his shirt when his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. Blood seemingly coming to a boil and nerves sparking dangerously, you find yourself quickly sobering up as the minutes tick by, completely and utterly addicted to him and this feeling, this feeling you have craved but never crossed the line for. And now, it’s yours to keep.

Forgetting the braids, you seize the opportunity to rake your fingers through his hair. Different, than how you did earlier. Desperate. Combing it away from his face once, twice, swallowing his groans when you tug at the roots, you realize with a whine that his hands have left your face in favor of dragging down your sides, circling back to squeeze at your breasts, rubbing at your thighs and finally sliding back to your ass, situating you more comfortably on his thighs.

When Hyunjin finally breaks the kiss to journey elsewhere, littering chaste kisses across your jaw, below your ear, down your neck, the weight of your actions finally hits you. It is overwhelming, the way you come spiraling back to reality, and you are not sure if the quiet moan that leaves you is due to the press of something else against your thigh or simply the realization that you are making out with Hyunjin.

You have to stop before you get hurt again.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, shuddering when his soft lips brush against your jaw, “wait. We need to talk.”

He pauses at this, fingers digging into your sides and you feel his frown against your neck. “What’s there to talk about?” He murmurs, arms sliding around you and tugging you closer, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close and pretend like his boner isn’t digging into you.

It’s your turn to frown. “About us,” whispering, you lift one hand to stroke through his hair, “we need to talk about us.”

“I thought my feelings were very clear,” Hyunjin scoffs, all tenderness in his voice gone. Instinctively, you lean back, blinking at him in surprise. “Unless this is just another one of your games? Does this not mean anything to you, YN? I don’t think I could stomach you running off to Changbin or fucking Chan again.”

His words pierce your heart before you have even fully processed them, hurt flashing across your features and your body goes numb. “What?” Is all you can manage, scrambling to get away from him, chest heaving and eyes suddenly burning with the brine of tears. “What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” He shouts. You flinch, not from the way he raises his voice, but from the genuine sadness in his eyes. “The past three years have been a constant battle with you. We’re best friends, for fucks sake, I figured out a long time ago that you have feelings for me. Feelings more than best friends. Yet every fucking time we started moving in the right direction, you turned your back on me.”

You can do nothing but stand there and let the tears fall. All the words and bottled emotions you wish to say are right there on the tip of your tongue, but you simply cannot bring yourself to voice them. Not when he’s right. Not when you have turned your back on him time and time again.

And then, he hisses more to himself than you, “Is this just sloppy seconds? You never once thought about my feelings in all of this?”

The anger brewing within you suddenly bursts from the dam and hisses through your body like deadly poison. “Sloppy seconds?” You snarl, fists clenching. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Your feelings? You just said you know how I feel about you, so why didn’t you ever do anything about it? How was I supposed to know you felt the same?”

“I thought it was pretty fucking obvious,” Hyunjin spits back, gaze narrowing, “didn’t think I had to spell out the fact that I like you, YN. You’re a smart girl.”

“Do not treat me like a child,” clenching your jaw, you have to look away for a moment, pacing one, two, three steps, hands raking through your hair and wiping away the stream of tears from your cheeks. You have never been filled with such rage. Having finally reached its boiling point, it now consumes you whole, sweeping off in waves and destroying all boundaries. “Confessing is not an easy thing, as you apparentlyknow, so don’t make me seem like the only idiot here. But maybe I was wrong about you if you think of me as just sloppy seconds.”

“I never said that!” Hyunjin barks, standing up to grasp your wrist when you turn away to grab your keys. “Don’t put words in my mouth! I would never, never think of you that way. I just don’t understand why you never spoke up after all this time. I’ve been dying, YN, you have no clue how badly I have been—”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” you snap, yanking your arm away from him, “I told you, Hyunjin. Telling someone you love them isn’t as easy as learning to ride a bike. You’re right, I have turned my back on you. But not intentionally. I’ve been scared, I’m a pussy, whatever.” Biting your top lip as if it will stop the tears that continue to fall freely, you avoid looking at him and glance back to find not only Seungmin, but Jisung and Changbin, too, peeking out from their doors with eyes blown wide with shock. Once you have noticed them, however, they panic and scramble to get out of sight.

Sighing shakily, you look back to Hyunjin and cannot ignore the way your heart sinks at the sight of him. Even upset, he is beautiful. You wonder how much you will see him after this.

“You don’t have to tell me you like me back to make me feel better, Hyunjin,” bouncing on your heels, you suddenly feel exhausted, body and soul heavy with the words you not only spoke, but heard, too. “We can figure this out another day, but for now, I need to go home. I’ll see you.”

Turning away once more, you do not make it very close to the front door before he stops you once more. “Wait, YN,” Hyunjin huffs, smiling softly when he reaches for your hand and you do not pull away. Running his tongue over his lip, he seems to hesitate for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

⇢ epilogue

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written-on-the-trees · 3 years

Text

Do You Have A Name, Or Can I Call You Mine? - Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fiction

Word Count: 2550 words

Warnings: None

Summary: Colson gets the phone call he'd hoped for, and more. There are more bad pick-up lines.

Where else can you find this: Ao3 | Wattpad

Colson grinned down at his phone, unable to hide the expression when he saw the screen light up from another message from Rosie, knowing full-well it was another cheesy pick-up line.

She sent one every on her lunch break, usually when Colson was just getting out of the apartment they were renting for the week, and he always sent one back. It was a bit dumb - real high-school childish shit - but he'd be lying if he said he didn't fucking love it, if only because it was an excuse to talk to Rosie.

They hadn't had a chance to talk on a call yet; they seemed to have opposite schedules, with her finishing work around four in the evening, just when his day was really beginning, and he was still passed out in the morning before she started work at eight. Still, he didn't think they went more than twelve hours without messaging each other, and he liked her enough that he'd even mentioned her in passing to Casie when they'd spoken, telling her the story of how he'd met Rosie

His daughter had rolled her eyes and told him not to embarrass himself and more than he already had with his bad pick up lines, only to be horrified when Colson told her Rosie found him funny, and had some awful pick-up lines of her own. The faux-fear on Casie's face as she'd whispered that now there were 'two of them now' had made him laugh so hard his jaw hurt...and gave him a little bit of hope that he and Rosie could make something work.

MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹

I would take you to the movies, but they don’t allow snacks.

That's what the kids are calling each other these days, right? A snack?

Woman, I am thirty years old.

I have no idea.

God I feel old. I called someone a hunk the other day, and Grace actually asked me what I was talking about.

Oh yeah? Was that someone me?

I couldn't say.

It was a pretty standard chat for them - but it still gave Colson butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

After a few days of messaging, the bad pick-up lines and chat had progressed into flirting, and now both of them were dancing around each other, trying to work out how serious the other one was...at least Colson was. He'd admit, it was a little bit weird to be the one feeling like they were chasing, and he was pretty sure he didn't like it. He was second-guessing what he messaged to her, over-thinking about what she messaged him, and generally giving himself anxiety over manning up and just telling her he wanted more than exchanging texts.

Logically, he knew it shouldn't be that hard; he'd literally been speaking for her for four days, if she told him to fuck off, then it wasn't like he was losing someone who'd been in his life for years. It shouldn't be this hard to just say what he felt. But everytime he typed it all out, he ended up deleting it.

He'd stopped even trying.

If you say so. Honestly, I've got other worries.

I lost my teddy bear. Can I sleep with you tonight?

I know you can't hear me, but I just groaned. Audibly.

The kids I have in detention are so confused.

As stressed as he was over confessing his feelings to Rosie, that was enough to make him chuckle under his breath. The juxtaposition of Rosie, the badass looking woman he'd met at a venue bar, and Miss Barnes, the secondary school history teacher, was utterly hilarious to him. He just kept picturing her standing in front of a whiteboard in her fishnets and leather miniskirt every time her job came up...and whenever he got into the shower.

Sorry, Miss Barnes.

Fuck off.

Chuckling, Colson slid his phone into his pocket and let himself into the studio he was recording at.

He was determined to finish early today; he might not get done by four, but he was hoping to get out in time to ring Rosie before he went out tonight. Maybe he couldn't work up the courage to tell her how he truly felt, but that didn't mean he didn't want to speak to her. If anything, he was hoping hearing her voice might give him the kick in the pants to come clean.

He was keeping his fingers crossed.

MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹

I know this is a bit short notice, but can we call?

Yeah, course. Everything okay?

Colson waited to see if Rosie would message back, only for her number to flash up as she skipped messaging just to call him.

"Hey, you alright?"

'I'm good. Friday's are rough.' Rosie sighed, sounded exhausted, even though it was only quarter past twelve: 'For once I didn't have anyone in detention so I've locked the door and now I'm hiding in the cupboard at the back of the classroom.'

Colson let out a low whistle: "That does sound rough."

'It's not that bad. I stuck an old desk chair in here and I have a phone charger and a bar of chocolate.'

"I meant the fact that you're hiding in a cupboard, but I'm happy you're happy in there." Colson snorted, hearing Rosie chuckle softly in return: "What on earth did the kids do to drive you this insane?"

'Ah, it's just the time of year. No-one wants to pay attention on a Friday, and next week is the last week before they get a week off for half-term, so all the kids have turned into monsters. Well, bigger monsters than they usually are.' Rosie sighed, before audibly cheering up: 'But I didn't call to bitch about my job; I called because I wanted to speak to you. And because I think I have found the best chat-up line ever.'

"Oh yeah?"

'I am going to complain to iTunes about you not being this week's hottest single.'

Colson laughed so hard that Rook poked his head through the door of the kitchen, looking confused. Colson shook his head, making Rook raise his eyebrows, only backing out when Colson flipped him off with his free hand.

He was definitely going to bother Colson about this later, the nosy little shit, but for now Colson couldn't bring himself to care about anything other than the way Rosie was laughing at her own joke. It was fucking adorable; she sounded so happy with herself for making him laugh, it made his chest feel a little tight. She was literally the best thing to happen to him this year, and he was already so attached that he didn't want to lose her.

The sudden realisation made him bold - he couldn't keep chickening out of talking to her. He had to tell her how he felt.

"I mean, that's good. So good I'm not sure mine is going to stand up to it."

'Well, we'll never know if you don't say it.'

"Wanna grab a coffee...because I like you a latte." Colson took a deep breath: "I suppose, to make up for it not being as funny as yours...I could tell you it's a serious offer?"

The only response was silence.

Colson was ready to take it back, only for Rosie to clear her throat: 'Like...a date?'

"Yeah, like a date." Colson agreed: "I mean, it doesn't have to be coffee. We could go for dinner; there's this cool restaurant that's meant to be good, or we could go do something fun, or - "

'Dinner would be nice.'

Colson's heart stopped.

She agreed to dinner. She agreed to dinner!

"That's great!" Colson swallowed, feeling the same anxiety that Rosie sounded like she was feeling, and wanting to get away from it and focus on the excitement building in his stomach: "Because you know what’s on the menu? Me 'n' u."

Rosie groaned, but he could hear her trying not to laugh as she did so: 'That was so bad...but it was also amazing, so it's a date. Literally.'

"It's a date."

'I can't wait.'

"Me either. I'll see you Friday."

Goddamn...

Colson saw Rosie before she saw him, standing just inside the front door to the restaurant they'd agreed to meet at, all lit up by the soft yellow-white fairy lights strung that hung in a curtain against the wall behind her. She looked like a fucking dream: in a modest black dress that she somehow managed to make look scandalous, the material hugging every inch of her, even though it covered her from neck to wrist to just below her knees. With bright red lips and scarlet shoes, Colson wasn't sure he wanted to share the sight of her with all the other guys in the restaurant. He was already half-ready to punch the dude at the front desk, who was staring at her ass while her back was turned to him.

Instead, he quickened his pace. The sooner they were seated, the sooner that guy could fuck off and eye-fuck some other woman.

Even though he was pissed, the look on Rosie's face when he opened the door was more than enough to calm him down: "Colson! Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast? Because you look magically delicious."

Just like that, the anger was replaced with laughter: "Damn it, that was good. You keep making jokes like that, and I'm gonna think you're a campfire - because 'cos you’re hot and I’m going to want s’more."

Rosie laughed, and allowed him to pull her in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck as he tightened his around her waist. He made sure to glare at the dude who'd been staring at her ass, even though he was now looking utterly disgusted by their exchange of cheesy pick-up lines, but mostly he got distracted by the smell of Rosie's perfume. It was a new one on him, but he was pretty sure he was already addicted to the muted citrus and almost peppery smell of it.

They reluctantly pulled apart - and Colson was thrilled that Rosie seemed just as reluctant as he was - but remained in contact by holding hands as they walked up to the little podium thing, where ass guy was currently looking down his nose at them.

"Do you two have a reservation?"

"Yeah, for two, under the name Baker." Colson smirked, watching the guy's face drop.

Colson felt no remorse.

Ass guy called over a waitress and asked her to show him and Rosie to a table upstairs, before telling them to have a good meal. Rosie smiled, albeit coolly, making Colson wonder if she'd been aware of the jackass staring at her earlier, but Colson just smirked. He wasn't usually a dick to people; he'd worked at fucking Chipotle, he knew he wasn't better than anyone, but this dude was just asking for it. Colson wrapped an arm around Rosie's waist as they walked away, letting everyone in there know exactly who she was here with. They could eat their hearts out, he was the one lucky enough to get to sit down to have dinner with her.

Just the thought was enough to make Colson smile.

Rosie smiled back: "Oh, wow. Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me?"

"Damn." Colson reached up to cover his smile with his hand, even though it was widening: "That was good. Not as much as the Lucky Charms one, but still good. Almost makes me wish I didn't ruin it by hating my smile so much."

"I try my best." Rosie winked: "And your smile is cute!"

"Almost as cute as you." Colson winked at her watching her cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.

Despite her blushing, though, Rosie wasn't lost for words: "Smooth."

"Yeah? How's this for smooth - are you Netflix? Because I could watch you for hours."

"Not bad...but not as good as roses are red, my face is too, that only happens when I’m around you."

Colson laughed.

Normally he liked having the last word, because the only thing he was more than mouthy was stubborn, and he wasn't ashamed of that...but something about going back and forth with Rosie made it more entertaining to just let himself stop looking for the next thing to say and just enjoy being truly present. There was no pressure from her for him to be edgy or sharp-tongued. Although she did seem to like him when he was, she also seemed to like him when he was spouting lame chat-up lines and being a dork.

It was impossible to put into words how good it felt to be able to relax. There weren't a lot of people Colson could let his guard down around, but in the short time he'd known her Rosie had already become one of them. With her, he felt like he could talk about what he was doing, without worrying that it was going to get back to someone it shouldn't or end up on the internet.

They talked about what he was doing in the studio, about her least favourite class to teach and how much she dreaded the last lesson on a Friday when she had them, about their family and friends and what was happening with them. Not once did Colson worry about anything he was saying or think about censoring himself. Nothing felt like stilted or forced - with Rosie, Colson was so engrossed in their conversation that he ordered and ate on auto-pilot, barely noticing anything other than Rosie. It was like she was the center of the universe tonight, and Colson couldn't keep his eyes off of her. It literally took the waitress coming over to ask if they wanted the cheque for Colson to realise that the restaurant was almost empty.

The waitress was all too happy to let them pay, hurrying them out the door as politely as possible, hovering as Colson helped Rosie into her jacket, and wishing them a goodnight as they headed for the stairs. They got out onto the street, standing close to the window to let the city pass them by as they spoke.

"Thank you for a really nice night." Rosie smiled: "The thought of this literally kept me going this week, and it was the best night I've had in a long time."

Colson felt his heart start to pick up, even as he tried to act onfident: "I'm glad it lived up to your expectations...I'm also glad you've been fantasising about me."

Rosie laughed: "You wish. Maybe I was just thinking about the dessert."

"In fairness, that passionfruit cheesecake you had was fucking amazing." Colson laughed back: "I'd dream about that."

"It was the best...well, except for you." Rosie smiled, her voice softening to something sweet and genuine: "I had a really nice time tonight, Colson."

"I did too. Honestly, I think you might be the best thing to happen to me all year...so, at the risk of ruining all of that..." Colson tailed off, leaning down to pause with his lips an inch from Rosie's: "Can I borrow a kiss? I swear I’ll give it back."

Rosie closed the gap herself, leaning up that last inch to press their lips together.

It was amazing.

#The Trees Writes #Machine Gun Kelly imagine #Machine Gun Kelly fanfic #Machine Gun Kelly fan fic #Machine Gun Kelly fan fiction #MGK imagine #MGK fanfic #MGK fan fic #MGK fan fiction #Colson Baker imagine #Colson Baker fanfic #Colson Baker fan fic #Colson Baker fan fiction

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fanfictionfansmiction · 3 years

Text

Hot Chocolate

Here is a cute Remus reader insert. Sorry if there are any mistakes and that it ends a little abruptly. But basically it’s an au where you and Remus went to school together and you bump into each other twice. word count: 2638

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I’ve never been in a relationship. I point blank don’t like vulnerability and not being in control. I never go on dates with people I like. I don’t actually think I’ve ever fancied someone enough to want to know them. Or to get close enough to them to get hurt.

That was until I saw him. All golden and bright. When we first met properly, I remember his ears went pink when I bumped into him. I could not understand why because he steadied me and prevented me from falling on my face. Something I thanked him for with a cup of coffee and a box of chocolates. I knew I recognised him. Which was perhaps why I was so bold in insisting on repaying him. It wasn’t in his face which had become stronger and more defined since last I saw him. It was his kind nature and in the way he spoke. Soft and smooth like a cup of hot chocolate.

“I’m sure I know you.” I said, attempting to be heard in the bustle of the crowded café.

“I feel the same, I’m Remus maybe we went to school together or something.” He said gently placing his mug down but still managing to spill some on the saucer.

“Yes! That’s it we were at secondary school together; I think you were in my English class. You sat with that loud group of boys who really pissed off our teacher.” I said loud and thankful that I wasn’t going insane.

“Oh, good old Minnie, you know Sirius is still in touch with her.” He said giggling.

“In some strange way that makes so much sense.” I said reaching for my cup laughing.

We sat in that small golden café until they closed. Something neither of us had intended to do. Remus asked if he could walk me home because it was getting dark too early for his liking these days. There was something in the way he asked as though he’d been waiting to ask since he stabled me. Or maybe the way he said my name in such a way I felt a blush creeping up my neck. Eyes wide and a smile breaking it’s way onto my face I accepted.

“It’s not too far from here don’t worry I won’t keep you for long.” I said with a look that suggested I wanted to keep him. Ridiculous I know considering we’d spent a few hours together and here I was wishing he’d ask if he could come in. The walk to my small flat above a corner shop wasn’t long enough for my liking. Although the walk was nice, we’d bumped into each other and exchanged small smiles that lit something in me. Like I’d just drank whiskey.

“I suppose this is goodbye for now,” he said followed with my name again, “I hope to see you again soon.” A smile broke out on his face that made its way to mine. Grinning at each other like idiots I kissed his cheek and said I wished the same. He looked at me intensely like all day long he’d been trying to not really see me. Hazel eyes that now I couldn’t make myself look away from even if I tried. But why would I want to look away. So, we stood together in the doorway to my flat taking each other in. The air changed and it felt thick and warm. This closeness, the smell of coffee and chocolate, his entire being. I felt drunk. Until my flatmate opened the door. Walking between us, she kissed my cheek said she was going to meet her girlfriend and just like that the spell was broken.

“I do hope to see you again Remus.” I said touching his elbow. A smile that told me I would see him.

Predictably I dreamt of him. He was golden. A halo ordained by the winter sun. Truly magnificent. I’m not even sure what happened in the dream just that he was there. Standing tall and smiling at me.

Two weeks went by until I saw him next. Completely by accident. This time it was my chance to stop you from falling.

Me and Marlene stopped by the local for a drink. Marlene and her girlfriend were in an argument and history told us this was the way to get her mind off it. Sitting at our usual booth I was on a mission to buy as many of the rounds that night as I could. So far, I had gotten three rounds of cider and I was working on getting the fourth. Before I spotted Remus I saw the boys from my year 9 English class who were no longer boys. James had a mop of curls that flicked around his neck and ears pushed away from his strong face which his glasses took up most of. Sirius almost as tall as Remus but not quite. His hair much longer than before which was pulled back, so his face took centre stage. Much angular than before but his eyes were as piercing as ever. Then Peter, who hadn’t grown much. His blonde hair once straggly and poorly cut now shaved close to his scalp. Still a little chubbier than the rest but now it filled his face well and he seemed surer in himself. All of them laughing. They were always laughing. As I approached the part of the bar, they were stood around Remus began walking backward as though animatedly telling a story. All his friends wide eyed knowing what was about to happen but offering Remus no warning. His foot caught on the carpet that started a few meters away from where his friends were stood. Just as he was about to fall back, I stopped him. Grabbing his arm and stabilising him causing his friends to laugh even harder. James and Sirius doubled over having to hold each other up and Peter threw his head back laughing manically as he did.

This time it wasn’t just his ears that turned pink, but his entire face turned beet red. Stumbling over his words shooting murderous looks at his friends and a soft apologetic look to me. I’m not sure he even recognised me at first. But when he did it seemed like he was confused asking himself: does it being them make it worse or better? The boys answer that question for him when they addressed me by name. Which is funny because I’m not sure they ever learned it in school.

Looking shyly down at me Remus said my name with a smile. Ruffling his hair and shoving his hands into his pocket all fidgeting and nervous. “I think now I owe you a drink.” He said with a lopsided grin.

“How about we call it even.” I say to him feeling a little embarrassed myself though I didn’t know why. I got the attention from the barman and order for me and Marlene completely intending to leave the group alone and return to my booth. But James attempted to drag me into the conversation.

“Remi here was just telling us about his date he had last week.” He said before taking a swig of his drink.

“Yeah apparently Remi here is in love. Though whenever anyone says they’re in love with someone other than me I’m always sceptical.” Sirius joked.

Remus stayed red and stumbled over his words, “I didn’t say I was in love.” He says to me in a way that suggested he thinks that bothers me. Which it does but I won’t tell him that.

“Well do invite me to the wedding Remus. Sorry boys but I have a friend to get back to. Have a nice night.” I say as I sway back to my table simmering with hot vile jealously. I put the drinks down with a little force causing a spill that I mop with my sleeve leaving it sodden and stinking of cider.

“What was that all about?” Marlene ask peering at me over her drink.

“Oh, just some idiots I went to school with. Nothing important.” I say downing my pint.

“Oh, okay I sure do believe that” she says sarcastically then her face changes, “wait, isn’t that the guy who walked you home?” She asked like she already knows the answer. Then she puts the drink down and stares at me like a mother about to scold her child. “Is that why you haven’t brought anyone home these past weeks. Jesus, I thought you were a found again virgin or some shit. Now I know you’re just hung up on some guy I feel a lot better.” I lightly whack her arm.

“I didn’t bring anyone home for two weeks I think born again virgin is a bit of stretch don’t you Mar.” I whack her arm again for good measure. “And he’s not the reason I just haven’t been into anyone recently and the date I went on last week with that weirdo Lucien or whatever his name was, was awful because he was a raging tory not because of some old school friend I ran into.” I say with a little bit too much annoyance because I know that she is a little right but who cares.

“Someone’s a little defensive.”

“Well someone else is being a little- “

“Sorry to interrupt.” I hear him say. Marlene and I snap our heads at him because we love a good drunk argument to get it out of our system. There Remus stands with two ciders in his hands and rosy cheeks, smiling widely at us. Completely unaware of what we were arguing about.

“Don’t apologise,” Marlene says changing her tone, “we were just chatting, talking, you know conversating.” She smiles like she thinks she’s gotten away with something.

“Oh right, um I brought over these because your friend here stopped me from falling on my arse in a very crowded room, so I decided I owed her a drink.” He says placing them down on the table.

“Oh, so this one isn’t for me.” Marlene says pouting as if she hasn’t got half a pint in front of her (that she didn’t even pay for)

“It can be, if you want but I was wondering if um,” he said my name again and it regrettably still made something glow inside me, “you wanted to go and have a bit of a chat.” He looked at me with big soft eyes and an even sloppier smile.

Is this the version of Remus I want to talk to? I ask myself. Is this weirdly jealous and angry version of me who he really wants to talk to? Before I have a chance to answer Marlene decides for me.

“Yeah actually I have to go,” she says hastily grabbing her stuff, “Dorcas just texted me, I have to go now.” She says kissing my head and I see her sly grin as she leaves.

“Well I suppose we don’t have to go anywhere for that chat a seat just opened up.” I smile at him sliding one drink to me and the other to the space next to me. He sits down and shuffles along to sit beside me knocking knees as he does. He gets comfortable in the seat taking off his dark denim jacket and takes a sip of his drink. As he puts it down, he spills a bit and wipes it up with the beige sleeve of his jumper.

“So, did seeing the boys make you realise that we’re even louder than you remember?” He says nervously looking over at them. They were looking back until I too stared and suddenly they were extremely interested in James shoe.

“Yes actually. I am a little shocked they even know who I am. Beside the point though it seems like you’re always having fun which is nice.” I say eyes still trained on them. A girl around my age approaches them, tall and radiant. Her auburn hair twisted up on the top of her head, she looked like she’d just come back from work. She kissed James on the top of his head. He looked up at her with big warm gooey eyes and kissed her cheek. A moment so tender and intimate I want to look away.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” I ask intending to be told who James beautiful girlfriend is.

“There is no lucky girl those gits were just trying to wind me up.” Before I can interrupt he continues, “They knew that the girl I was talking about was you and they knew your name because I used to have the biggest crush on you in school,” he stop momentarily to rehydrate, “So much so they were sick to death of me talking about it which is why they were such a pain in English. I didn’t say I was in love you by the way I just said that I couldn’t stop thinking about you and was beating myself up because I cannot believe I left without asking for your number or without kissing you. I mean I truly am the biggest moron I know. Although sometime in school I probably did say I loved you. I was a little dramatic back then. Evidently not much has changed.” He looks at me with half lidded eyes. We stare at each other for a while because I’m not sure he knows what he’s said. I see him slowly figure it out because his eyes widen and suddenly looks entirely sober. “Oh god.” Is all he says as though he’s about to rest his head in his hands. I intend to show that I feel the same by taking his scarred rough hands in mine, but he’s obviously committed to throwing his head in his hands because his head hits the sticky table.

“Remus.” I say all high pitched and concerned. Then his friends follow it with a chorus of laughter.

“Oh god.” He says again.

“Come with me.” I say taking his coat and his hand. A chorus of high pitched ‘oohs’ follow from his friends.

I lead him to my flat knowing Marlene will be MIA for a few days. I turn on the lamp and Remus looked like he wanted to curl up into a ball and be forgotten by the world hunched over on the patch work sofa. Still dramatic.

“Remus,” I say sitting next to him on the old sofa, “look at me you idiot.” He swings his head up but his eyes are closed and his hands covering most of his face.

“I don’t want to.” He says grumpily.

“Look at me,” I say taking his hands in mine noticing a small cut on his head, “you got to do most of the talking in there and no offence but if I were to declare my feelings for you I’d rather it not be with your friends eavesdropping.” He groans again. “I did have a really nice time with you, and I did feel jealous when your friends made up that girl. I really want to be a hopeless romantic, but we don’t really know each other. I did have fun with you, and I would go out with you again. But next time please ask for my number because this is rather dramatic.” I say smoothing his hair and holding his cheek in my hand.

Remus looks at me with big eyes warm and gooey like James. A smile playing on his lips like I somehow said the right thing. Then he says my name again. Smooth like hot chocolate. “Can I have your number?”

“Of course.” I say and smile playing on my lips. Then he leans in and kisses me softly like a whisper.

#remus x reader #remus reader insert #remus x y/n #young remus lupin x reader #marauders imagine #marauders era x reader #marauders era imagine #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter reader insert #marauders reader insert #reader insert #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin reader insert #remus lupin x y/n

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