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luveline · 3 years

Text

in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

#fred wealsey fic #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley #harry potter imagine #fred Weasley imagine #fred Weasley x reader #reader insert #reader has acne #reader is an unreliable narrator #reader x fred Weasley #fred Weasley fanfic #fred Weasley fluff #hurt/comfort #Fred weasley x reader

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weasleylangs · 3 years

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opposites attract - f.w.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff Fem!Reader Summary: The quiet, Hufflepuff bookworm has captured the heart of the mischievous Gryffindor. Warnings: none! Word Count: 2k

A/N: For the anon that asked for Fred with a Hufflepuff reader who he’s uncharacteristically sweet for! I’m sorry it took so long, I hope you (and everyone else who reads it) enjoys it!!

P.S let me know if you’d like to be added to a tag list!

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Y/N sits in charms, completely zoned out. Charms was always her best subject and she was luckily one of those ‘never study, always pass’ students. The same could not be said about her boyfriend, however, who was sitting across the room trying to tickle his best friend with his quill and distract him.

Y/N and Fred were an unusual couple, and no one understood how the shy Hufflepuff girl managed to catch the mischievous Gryffindor’s attention. Fred’s idea of a good time was turning the corridor into a swamp or roughhousing during quidditch practise whilst Y/N’s was curled up in front of a fire, a nice book in her hand. But no one questioned it, because somehow they made it work.

Fred caught her eye and winked. They’ve been dating for six months now and he never gets tired from the shy look on her face when he looks at her. She shakes her head, hiding behind her hair and turning her attention back to Flitwick as he drones on about their assignment.

When the bell rings, signalling next period, Fred’s across the room in no time. Y/N has her head down, grabbing her notebook and quill when Fred snatched them out of her hand whilst simultaneously grabbing her bag from the floor. “I’ll carry them for you, love,” he said, smiling.

This wasn’t unusual behaviour. Before the couple got together, everyone always thought Fred was a flirt and was hooking up with different people every weekend, and whilst they were right at the time, Fred is absolutely whipped for his badger girlfriend and hasn’t even looked at another girl since their first date. He’s always wanting to carry her books or he’s slinging an arm around her shoulder.

She has him wrapped around her finger and he couldn’t care less.

“You don’t have to do that, Freddie. You know my bag is heavy,” she says trying to grab the bag from him. Fred only takes three classes, considering the three O.W.L’s he received in their fifth year, meaning sometimes he only has one class a day. However, Y/N managed to receive ten, only failing History of Magic (‘Who fucking cares?’ was everyone’s response), resulting in her having multiple classes a day and therefore a very heavy bag.

Fred, of course, shrugs it off, “I’m a beater, darling. Nice and strong. I can barely tell that you have five textbooks in here,” he says as he winks and causes Y/N’s face to heat up as she swats him on the chest. “I’m just saying you don’t have too, I can carry my own bag,” she pouts. While she knows Fred is more than happy to lug her bag around, she hates the idea that he’s only doing it out of obligation to be a ‘good boyfriend’.

These insecurities aren’t new. She hears what people say about them and it doesn’t bother her for the most part. Just there’s only so many times she can handle people she’s not even friends with talking about how ‘Y/N isn’t right for Fred’.

“You have potions now, yes?” Fred asks, pulling Y/N out of her worries as she follows Fred through the corridors. That’s another thing she never expected, Fred learnt her timetable when they started dating so he could always walk her to class. “I do, Freddie. You have a free right, are you spending it with George and Lee?”

Fred nods, “I sure am, we’re meeting in the One-Eyed Witch passage to pop down to Honeydukes too, you need anything?” Y/N frowns at this. “Freddie, that passage is on the third floor on the other side of the school. You don’t have to walk me to potions,” she tries to grab her bag from him again and he shakes his head.

“Darling, what part of ‘I want to do this’ do you not understand?” While his tone is sharp, he’s not angry. Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever seen Fred this serious, a glint of cheekiness is always present in his eyes but right now, he looks about as serious as Snape when talking about proper cauldron care.

“I just don’t want to keep you from the boys,” she whispers, tugging at the sleeves of her robes. They stop walking, and Fred drags her body into a hug. “The boys are fine waiting, now do you want anything from Honeydukes.”

She falters for a second, just enjoying being in his presence. Despite the short amount of time they’ve been dating, Y/N knows what she feels for him is love and she can only hope the tall ginger boy feels the same way in return. His embrace can only be described as comfort, all Y/N’s worries rushing away as his familiar scent of firewood and cinnamon fills her senses.

“Some sugar quills, please,” she mumbles into his robes. “Anything for you,” he replies, pulling away and grabbing her hand. “C’mon, you’re going to be late for potions.”

It’s after dinner by the time Y/N catches Fred again. She’s walking out of the Great Hall when she feels her robes get tugged on and she almost falls over.

“Hi,” Fred says, “some sugar quills for my sugar quill.”

Y/N cringes at the cheesy nickname as she thanks him, popping the sweets into her robe pockets, “What are your plans for tonight?” Fred shrugs, more quiet than usual as he plays with Y/N’s fingers. “Nothing, I was… I was wondering if I can come and hang in the Hufflepuff common room with you?”

He’s shy and Y/N almost coos at it. Fred ‘no filter when he speaks’ Weasley is blushing as he asks his girlfriend to spend some time with her in her house common room, this is a once in a lifetime happening.

“Of course, Freddie. Any reason why?” It’s not that she doesn’t want him spending time with her. But Fred’s never expressed an interest in spending the night in, rather opting to terrorise Filch or another teacher after dinner.

“You like spending your evenings reading in front of the fire. I feel like I’ve barely seen you today,” he whispers. At this, she decides not to torture the poor boy any further and grabs his hand. “C’mon,”

They arrive at the common room in no time, no one batting an eye at the Gryffindor waltzing into the common room where he doesn’t belong. In fact, he gets quite a few “Hi Fred’s!” from people in their year. He’s always been popular and well known, so of course, the house of kindness is happy to have him.

“I’m going to run up to my dorm and change, are you sure you’re okay?” Fred nods, sitting himself down on the soft yellow chair in front of the fire. It’s Y/N’s favourite chair to read in and Fred knows it. “Sure am, hurry back before I freeze to death.”

Y/N speed changes, switching out her uniform for some sweatpants, one of Fred’s old jumpers and her favourite fuzzy sock. While she’s up there, she grabs a spare sweater she’s stolen from Fred for him to change into and her copy of ‘Frankenstein’ from her nightstand and rushes back downstairs and straight into Fred’s lap. “Hi,” she whispers, kissing him on the cheek.

Fred hums a hello as he settles into the soft pillows of the couch. Y/N perches herself next to him, slinging her legs across his lap with her back against the arm rest. “What’s it about?” Fred asks, gesturing to the book she’s just opened. He knows Y/N’s love for muggle books and he loves hearing her talk about them, even though he never understands. “A scientist who creates a ‘monster’ through experiments… It’s one of my favourites.”

She waves the book in Fred’s face and sure enough, the sticky notes and the plastic tabs are sticking out, referencing all her favourite parts. “It sounds cool, can I read it after you?”

Y/N is shy about this. Books are very important to her and she feels her sticky notes and writing in the margins are her deepest thoughts, a peep into her soul. But the boy in front of her owns her heart, every single part of it, and she decided then and there, she wants to share every part of herself with him. “Sure, but you have to promise to not judge my notes.”

He could never, the Hufflepuff girl in his lap turns his heart to mush no matter how much he tries to hide it and he can’t even imagine hurting her. He holds his pinky out, “I promise,” he says as she hooks her own with his and he presses a kiss to her forehead.

They sit in silence for a while. Fred starts conversing with members of the Hufflepuff quidditch team (“We’re going to crush you next week, Kirke” she hears Fred say at one point and she has to nudge him with her knee to not start a brawl in the common room) while Y/N reads. At one point, her hand ends up in Fred’s hair, playing with the short strands at the nape of his neck.

When she does this, Fred leans into her touch and his eyes flicker shut for only a second. She thinks she’s finally found a way to quiet him down and she makes a mental note to play with his hair next time she wants to get some reading done.

The time starts to near 10pm as Y/N starts yawning, and as much as Fred would love to stay, he knows he’ll have enough trouble getting back to Gryffindor tower without George, Lee and their trusty Mauraders Map. “I should probably get going, darling,” Fred mutters after a while and when he looks at his girlfriend, she’s pouting.

“I wish you could stay,” she says and when Fred cocks his eyebrow she laughs, “not like that, you git!”

She quickly stands, pulling Fred’s gangly body up from the couch and into her arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, we have double Defence,” Fred says laughing and she feels his chest rumble with laughter. “Too long,” she mumbles in reply. When Y/N gets tired, she gets clingy which was one of the earliest things Fred ever learnt about her. It’s always one of the cutest things about her.

He walks to the portrait hole, his small girlfriend clinging to his body and he presses a soft kiss to her hairline before detaching her. “Darling, I have to go.”

He feels terrible. He knows she isn’t being clingy to make him feel bad, she genuinely just wants to spend time with him. She yawns again, eyes scrunched closed as she stretches her arms that somehow end up wrapped back around his waist.

“Okay, you can go,” she gives him one final squeeze before letting him go and looking up at him and before Fred can stop himself the words are slipping out.

“I love you.”

This wakes her up immediately and her eyes are wide as she looks at him, “R-really?”

Fred was going to pretend he never said it, worried it was both too early and that she didn’t feel the same way. But the way she’s looking at him, glints of happiness in her eyes and the biggest smile he’s ever seen on her face he knows now is the right time.

“I do, I love you.”

She jumps on him again, pressing her lips to his. Her lips are soft against his, they always are and the kiss is filled with love and adoration. Neither of them is aware of how long they stand there, embraced in each other’s arms until they’re barely kissing anymore, their smiles too wide.

“I love you too, Freddie. I love you more,” she says, full seriousness in her face. “Oh love, you won’t win this argument.” He presses a kiss to her lips again before slinking out of the portrait hole, leaving Y/N standing with her fingers pressed to her lips smiling.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley

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accioxreparo · 4 years

Photo

ink stains

synopsis: soulmate au in which every mark that appears on your body also appears on your soulmate’s body including, as you discover one day, drawings. Needless to say you’re determined to make your soulmate smile, even if you haven’t found them yet.

pairing: George Weasley x ravenclaw!reader

warnings: none

a/n: Hi I’m late to the party but @thoseofgreatambition is doing a soulmate theme night and I’m a ho for soumate au’s so hopefully mine is decent enough lol also I may or may not be writing one for fred too but it’s taking me ages so

tagging: @the-hufflepuff-of-221b

~~~~~~

When you were six years old you woke up one morning to dark stains splattered all over your face and arms. You were confused and quickly grew panicked, absolutely positive that you had contracted Dragon Pox overnight. It had taken an hour for your dad to calm you down enough so he could explain with a small grin that your soulmate must’ve spilled an inkwell on themselves.

“What do you mean?” You had asked with wide, curious eyes.

“Well,” Your dad had reached for the bedside table and picked up a quil. “Everybody has a soulmate, Y/N. One day you start being able to see the marks that appear on your soulmate's body, permanent or temporary. For you, that day happens to be today.” He dipped the quil in a well filled with bright blue ink and handed it to you. “Why don’t you give it a try? Write your soulmate a message.”

“What if they don’t write back?” You had frowned then, suddenly worrying that maybe this mystery person on the other end would want nothing to do with you.

“Well that’s okay,” Your dad had been quick to reassure you. “They might not be able to see the marks yet. But one day they will and I just know they’ll be ecstatic to know you’re here.”

After that day there was a constant stream of doodles all over you. Vines snaking up your ankle. Twisting patterns winding around your fingers. Planets and stars littering your collarbone area. Stripes of random colors all over your palms as you mixed new colors. The most detailed pictures were always on your left arm though, that was where you practiced new drawings.

Occasionally you wrote a message but mostly you drew. Then one day you bought a book about charms to cast on drawings in Flourish and Blotts and you begged your dad every chance you got to cast them for you. After that at least a few pictures were always moving up and down your body.

When you got your very own wand at the age of eleven they were the first spells you practiced. By the end of your first year at Hogwarts you had mastered the whole book. Since then there was always a constant supply of different colored inks in your bag and pockets. The array of multicolored moving pictures that changed every day was your one connection to your soulmate.

They had yet to write back.

It had been ages since you first found your connection to your soulmate. You’d dealt with scars and bruises and occasional scribbled reminders but never once had you ever received even an acknowledgment of anybody seeing your drawings.

You tried not to let it bother you, you really did. But it seemed like every single person around you had known their soulmate for years, in one way or another. Some days the smile you wore wasn’t quite genuine, the longing you felt growing a little deeper at times, but never once did you fail to decorate your limbs with gentle reminders that you were there for your soulmate to find on themselves.

Not until that day. You were set to leave for school the next morning and your father had taken the week off of work to see you off. The two of you, your older brother, and your younger sister were probably too focused on the quidditch match you had going against each other in the backyard of your house. So much so that the bludger hit your way completely blindsided you.

The match ended with panicked shouts, a trip to St. Mungos, and your left arm wrapped tightly in cloth bandages as it rested in a sling while your bones healed.

It was only when you were sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express that the strangest thing happened. Words scrawled in letters that weren’t your own had appeared on your right arm.

Nothing new today?

As you stared at the writing with wide eyes, more words appeared underneath those.

I’m sure this is bending the rules but I had to know. Something’s wrong isn’t it?

Frantically you dumped out the contents of your bag, scattering them all over the floor of the compartment. You dug around the mess you had made until you found a self-inking quil. Just as you were about to write your response you caught sight of the bandages on your arm and gave a defeated sigh.

“Would you like some help?”

You looked up and saw Luna, a friend of yours a couple years below you, watching you with an amused smile. The two of you would always sit up late in the common room together, swapping theories and stories about anything and everything.

“If you don’t mind,” You gave her a sheepish look and she only smiled before moving to sit next to you.

“What would you like me to write?” Luna asked as she took the quil out of your hand. You smiled and told her, watching as she took your arm and wrote out your words for you.

What makes you think something is wrong?

It was seconds later when you received your response.

Not once in the six years since I’ve been able to see your drawings have you let a day pass where you don’t add new ones. What’s wrong?

A smile graced your face and Luna was kind enough to help you continue the conversation happening on your arm.

I’m fine. Just a Quidditch injury. I’ll have the bandages removed by tonight, don’t worry.

Take your time. I don’t want you to hurt longer than you have to, love.

You were sure it was cheating, talking to your soulmate by writing messages on your arm. But if whatever soulmate forces were out there didn’t want you to talk to them then there shouldn’t have been such a simple loophole.

That’s what comforted you late that night, now gently scrawling messy words quickly on your arm that had been broken only the day before. Never before had you been more thankful for Skele-Gro.

Can I ask you something?

The print you wrote with was small on purpose, trying to keep as much room available as possible. It didn’t stop you, however, from doodling new little pictures on the back of your hand.

Go for it.

Why haven’t you ever said anything before? Why now?

You stared at the words you had written for a few moments before sighing and heading to the bathroom that was connected to your room. Only after staring at the words covering both arms now for a minute or two did you start washing away the ink you had put there.

For a minute you thought that you shouldn’t have asked. You stood in silence, watching as the remainder of the ink, the part written in your soulmates handwriting, was slowly washed away leaving only faint ink stains. Then to your relief a response came after it was all gone.

I was worried. And let’s just say I’m not as artistic as you are, my talents lie in other places.

For a second the writing stopped but then more words appeared, quicker than they had before.

Also I may have missed seeing you draw new pictures for me a little too much.

You beamed at the words and walked back to your bed. After the curtains were pulled around it you lit the end of your wand and picked up your quil again.

Do you like them? The pictures.

The response was almost immediate.

I love them.

***

“Miss Y/L/N.”

You jumped in your seat at the sound of a voice calling your name. Slowly you looked up from where you were taking notes on nonverbal spells. Professor Flitwick stood only a few feet away with an exasperated look on his face. Meanwhile both of the Weasley twins sat at their desk looking quite satisfied with whatever they had just done.

You’d been correct to assume they were behind whatever loud noise had been going on only minutes before. The desk the twins were sitting at was now charred and the other Gryffindors surrounding them were chatting excitedly about whatever it was you missed while your nose was buried in your charms book.

Neither Fred or George Weasley missed the fact that you were trying and failing to keep back an amused smile.

“You’ll be getting a new partner to do your project with,” Professor Flitwick lifted his wand and with a single flick a bag and a pile of unused textbooks was flying across the room and into the empty space next to you. “Mr. Weasley.”

Both boys stood at the same time wearing matching smirks and chorused, “Yes, Professor?”

You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your laugh when Professor Flitwick sighed and shook his head upon realizing that he really should have seen that coming. “Mr. George Weasley. Come meet your new partner.”

Oddly enough said person didn’t look disappointed by the new assignment at all. Instead he grinned as he approached you, sliding into the chair beside you easily.

You could count the number of times you had spoken to George Weasley on one hand. The first time had been during potions when he’d asked to borrow some foxglove for a pompion potion. It wasn’t the potion you’d been assigned to brew but you hadn’t questioned it. The second time he’d walked up to you and your friends after a quidditch match to congratulate Ravenclaw on their victory against Slytherin despite the fact that none of you were on the team. And the third time was only a few weeks before when he asked to borrow a spare quil in transfiguration.

You doubted he remembered any of that though.

“So partner,” George leaned on the desk, head resting on one of his hands as he looked at you. “What do you know about,” He reached over to look at the piece of parchment you’d been taking your notes on. “Nonverbal spells? That’s our topic?”

“It is,” You nodded and reached for your notes, hoping he wouldn’t flip over the parchment to see the drawings you’d absentmindedly doodled during the lecture. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” George’s smile turned softer then as he stared at you, a fact which you noticed. You turned away quickly as you felt your face burn, hoping silently that it wasn’t too noticeable. “On the contrary. From what I hear you’ve already mastered a few nonverbal spells yourself Y/N, dearest.”

You froze then, not sure which revelation surprised you more. The fact that apparently you had developed a reputation without you knowing or the fact that George Weasley of all people knew your name.

You tried your hardest to fight the temptation to ask how he knew you and why.

“Class is almost over,” Your words came out rushed and a little too loud to sound natural. It wasn’t a complete lie. In just ten minutes you’d all be dismissed and that was hardly enough time to make even a small dent into your project. “We should meet sometime before our next class to get started if we want to have it done by the due date.”

“You’re so...ravenclaw,” George spoke after a few moments. When you looked at him again he was still giving you that same soft smile, a different sort of glint in his eyes than the one you were used to seeing every now and then.

For a second your thoughts drifted to the words scrawled on your right arm and the pictures on your left. They were covered up by the sleeves of your sweater as they usually were but you could picture the words you and your soulmate had written to each other earlier that day clearly.

“Is that a bad thing?” You found yourself asking, for some strange reason not being able to bring yourself to pull away from George’s gaze.

“No,” He shook his head gently almost immediately. “It’s perfect.”

***

You had to give credit where credit was due. When it came down to it, George Weasley could in fact step up to the plate.

Even now, an early Sunday morning the day after a trip to Hogsmeade, he sat right in front of you.

You knew for a fact he had been up late the previous night causing his usual mischief alongside his brother. One of the Ravenclaw prefects had been patrolling the halls and you overheard him complaining about having to send the twins back to their dorm for the fourth day in a row when he entered the common room.

It had made you smile.

You’d spent at least a couple hours each day alongside George for the past two and a half weeks. Some of that time had indeed been spent on your project but you found it easier to talk to him than you thought it would be. You couldn’t even begin to count the variety of tales he told you just to hear you laugh.

That, however, meant that the two of you had developed a tendency to avoid your work resulting in you being behind. The next day the two of you would have to present in front of the class. You had already gotten away with postponing the presentation twice.

The first time you had told Professor Flitwick that you needed more time to gather as much information as the topic deserved. The second time George had eaten one of the products he had told you he was working on, one he called a nosebleed nougat. It had worked like a charm and the moment you left the classroom with him he ate another candy and it stopped.

It was the only reason the two of you had woken up at that godforsaken hour of the morning on a Sunday. There was simply no other option now.

“I think all of our research is done and I can write up some notes for us to remember during the presentation,” You reached for another roll of parchment from your bag to do just that before dipping your quil in an inkwell filled with bright blue ink. “But we still need to practice some nonverbal spells for the practical demonstration. What do you think we should -”

It wasn’t until you looked away from the pile of books in front of you and at George that you realized he had dozed off. His head was resting on his arms which were crossed on the desk in front of him and he looked almost peaceful for once.

The corner of a piece of parchment was sticking out from under one of his arms and suddenly you couldn’t help yourself. Slowly you leaned forward until you could reach the parchment and you began to sketch a field of flowers on the paper in various ink colors.

You didn’t notice your own smile as you did so.

Then the end of your quil brushed across George’s face and he almost immediately bolted up in his seat. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes once more he looked over only to find you biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“You look suspicious,” George narrowed his eyes at you playfully when he saw the look on your face, still not noticing the addition to his parchment.

“Do I?” You smiled then as you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms in front of you.

“You do,” He leaned forward on the desk again and the grin you’d come to see on a regular basis returned. “May I ask why?”

“No reason at all. I’m just excited to learn some nonverbal spells is all,” You laughed as you stood from your seat, squinting a little at the late morning sun shining through the windows. “Speaking of, I’m gonna go search for some books a friend of mine recommended with some spells we could use.”

“Do we not have enough of those here?” George said as he glanced at the pile of no less than seven books, none of which he could remember anything about.

“Those are all on history and theory. We need something on practical application.”

“Right,” George let out a sigh as he reached for one of the unopened books. “You’re lucky I like you. I can’t remember the last time I did this much reading for a project.”

You hummed and then shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Don’t I feel honored.”

“Just get on with it,” George glanced up from the pages of the book he’d been flipping through and at you again, this time with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Faster we finish with this, the sooner we can sneak into the kitchens for a late breakfast.”

You were quick to agree. George watched as you disappeared behind one of the bookshelves. It was only when he was sure you were gone that he rolled up the sleeve of his sweater and reached for a quil, quickly scribbling a message to his soulmate on his right arm.

When he was done writing the message he caught sight of the flowers that you had drawn on the corner of his parchment and he grinned. Almost absentmindedly he started drawing flowers around your own, albeit a little simpler than the designs you had made. It took a minute for his eyes to widen, quil falling out of his hand, realizing that the flowers you had drawn on the paper he had already seen dozens of times before. In fact, a variation of them sat on his left arm now.

***

Finally four hours later you and George sat in the kitchens which you’d found surprisingly empty. Breakfast and lunch had come and gone and the two of you had gladly accepted a variety of foods from a couple of the house elves.

You were completely oblivious to the way George was studying you closely, trying as hard as he could to see if he was right.

“Puddlemere United,” He said when he caught sight of the patch sewn onto the jacket you were wearing. “I take it you’re a fan?”

“I sort of have to be,” You laughed a little when you saw the confused look flash on George’s face. “My dad is Puddlemere’s captain.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not, promise,” You smiled as you shook your head. Without hesitation you pulled off your jacket, flipping it around so the back was visible, and pointed to a navy blue crest with the Puddlemere United logo and the word ‘captain’ across it in bold, golden letters. “Has been for a few years now and here’s your proof.”

But when you looked at George he wasn’t looking at the jacket at all. Instead he was staring at the variety of words and pictures covering your arms. You could see his eyes darting back and forth and quickly pulled your arm away and under the table.

“Wait,” He reached across the table and took your hand in his, slowly turning your arm around so he could see all every single stroke of ink. You could only watch as he gently traced the designs with his free hand.

The moment was soft, intimate in the purest way. You swore you could hear your own heart thumping louder each second that passed. It reached its peak when George placed your arm on the table in front of the two of you only to pull off the sweater he’d been wearing. It was then that the breath you were holding in left you.

Every single ink stain on your arms was perfectly reflected on his. Now that you looked closer you wondered how you hadn’t recognized his handwriting right away, you’d spent the last few months writing back and forth after all. You’d been so focused on the drawings and the writing that you hadn’t noticed what, or rather who was right in front of you.

“I knew it was you, you know.”

Your laugh was light when you finally dared to look at George once more. He was looking at you with pure and utter adoration and you were positive you wore the same expression. “Did you now?”

“I did,” George grinned as he took your hand again, more confident than he had previously been. “Remember our first year when I asked you for that foxglove? I was supposed to nick it from one of the shelves but you had your sleeves rolled up and I swore I saw the edge of the stars you had drawn earlier that day. I went to get a closer look but they were covered again.”

“And I suppose it was the same thing in transfiguration a month ago?” You shook your head with an amused smile as you thought back to the encounter. It all seemed so obvious now.

“It was. Same thing with the quidditch match a few years ago too,” He leaned forward as if what he were about to tell you were a secret. Suddenly it was like he couldn’t let you go, not that he’d ever want to now that he’d finally found you. “What made me almost certain though was the little drawing you left on my parchment earlier. I knew I’d seen those before.”

“Well I suppose it’s a good thing you’ve kept your eyes open unlike me apparently,” You were beaming as you glanced down at the matching pictures present on both of you. “What do we do now?”

“I’m glad you asked,” George immediately stood, pulling you up with him. He grabbed hold of your jacket still sitting on the table and started pulling you out of the kitchens. “Now that we’ve found each other we’re going to make up for lost time.”

“By doing what exactly?” You asked, eyebrows raised questioningly and a slight smirk on your face.

“Head out of the gutter, love,” George laughed as the two of you walked back up the stairs still hand in hand. He looked down at you with a wild grin on his face. “We’re going on our first date if you’re up for it.”

You agreed instantly and happily followed to wherever it was George would take you, just as you knew you always would from that moment on.

#the ending is eh but i love soulmates #hp fanfic #harry potter imagine #harry potter one shot #george weasley x reader #george weasley #george wealsey imagine #george weasley x y/n #soulmate au #george weasley fanfiction #c: george weasley #my stuff #my fics

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punkfeathers · 3 years

Text

I Don’t Mind Your Shadows (they look a lot like mine)

Summary: Haunted by memories of the harrowing Hassaikai raid, Kirishima goes to his teammate for comfort. Hugs ensue.

Tags: Platonic cuddling, fluff, anxious Kirishima, Tamaki’s big brother instincts kick in, did I mention fluff?

Word count: 1903

___

Kirishima couldn’t sleep.

It was a common problem for him these days. Between school and training, he had a lot weighing on his shoulders. Not that he was complaining – no one had said becoming a hero was going to be easy, after all. Relaxing after a long day when his muscles were sore was easier said than done, but as long as he had a hot shower before bed, he could usually calm himself down easily enough.

Tonight, though… the nightmares had decided to come back.

He rolled onto his side, pulling his pillow over his head as if that would block out the haunting images from his brain, but of course it didn’t help. Even when he closed his eyes, he could still see them – the remnants of what had been his first and also worst official mission just a few weeks ago. He’d never expected breaking into the Hassaikai base would be easy. But he also hadn’t expected to get into a life-or-death fistfight this early in his hero career, either.

He scoffed, throwing the pillow aside. Career. As if he could even call it that, when Fat Gum was the one who had taken most of the blows. Even though they’d both made it out alive, he couldn’t help but sink into his thoughts sometimes and wonder… what if he hadn’t found the strength to pull off one last-ditch effort to defend himself and his mentor? He and his teammates had all come away with nothing but broken bones, but they’d gotten lucky. What if next time… if there even was a next time, now that their work studies had been put on hold… things turned out far worse?

Everyone told him not to dwell on it, that moving forward was what mattered. And he knew that. Better than most people.

So why wouldn’t the memories leave him alone?

He let out a long sigh, staring up at the ceiling as his fears piled up on top of his chest, weighing down his lungs until it almost hurt to breathe. Nights like this had become all too common since he’d been discharged from the hospital. It wasn’t like he could tell just anybody about how badly his thoughts were troubling him, though. Not that he was afraid to admit when he was scared. There were just so few of his classmates who had been involved in the Hassaikai raid to begin with, and while all of them were sympathetic, it was different when he was talking to someone who had actually been there and had felt the same terror as him – the kind that could only come from staring death right in the face and living to tell the tale.

Slowly, he sat up and reached for his phone on his nightstand. He thought about calling his mentor, if only to hear his reassuring voice, but reluctantly changed his mind when he saw the time on the screen read twelve thirty. Fat Gum had said he could call him anytime he needed to talk – he was very insistent about it, actually - but despite that, Kirishima still felt guilty about waking him up for something as small as a nightmare. He wanted – no, needed – his mentor to think he was okay. Especially since he’d already caused him enough worry as it was.

Luckily, there was at least one other person he knew would be able to help who might still be awake at this hour.

Biting his lip, he opened his contacts list. Since it was organized by last name, he didn’t even need to scroll down to find the one he was looking for. His finger hovered over it for a few seconds before he mustered up the courage to send him a quick text.

You up?

He waited a few seconds, rapidly tapping his bare foot against the wood floor. His breath caught in his throat when a reply lit up the screen.

Yeah.

Relief flooded through Kirishima’s chest. He could always count on Tamaki to text back quickly.

He typed, Can I come over? and hit send.

This time, the response didn’t come as fast. Kirishima bit his lip again. Sure, this wasn’t the first time he’d texted his teammate in the middle of the night, but he didn’t want to overstep his bounds. Maybe he’d woken him up. Maybe he was annoying him. Maybe-

Three little dots popped up on his screen, indicating Tamaki was typing out a response. When the words finally showed up, Kirishima almost cried.

Of course.

___

The dorms were silent at this time of night. A few of the rooms Kirishima walked past had light bleeding out from under the doorframe, and sometimes he heard soft sounds from a movie playing through the walls, but other than that the hallways were devoid of life. He could get in big trouble for this, of course. Aizawa didn’t enforce a curfew for nothing. But sometimes, rules were meant to be broken, and this felt like one of those times.

Besides that, this wasn’t even the first time he’d snuck out of his room. The week he’d spent in the hospital after the Hassaikai raid, as soon as they recovered enough to walk, Kirishima and his teammates would regularly sneak into each others’ rooms at night. Fat Gum had a harder time getting away with this, as his room was in a different ward, but he’d still sneak them some ‘real food’ from the hospital vending machines whenever he could. It had been easier for Tamaki and Kirishima, since their rooms were right next door to each other. The only hard part was avoiding the nurses who were always running around enforcing visiting hours, which apparently applied to patients as well. The first time Kirishima got caught, he’d been sitting in the chair next to Tamaki’s bed, half asleep with his head on Tamaki’s stomach because he’d stayed there talking for so long he’d gotten sleepy.

“He can stay if he wants,” Tamaki had insisted, the nurse ignoring his irritated tone as she dragged Kirishima off to his own room. That hadn’t stopped Tamaki from going to Kirishima’s room the next night, though, insisting that it was better for Kirishima not to move around so much since his injuries were worse. Kirishima didn’t think Tamaki should be moving around, either, what with the cracked bone in his face, but he decided not to bring it up. Tamaki was a lot more stubborn than most people assumed, and besides, as long as they still got to see each other, that was all that mattered.

Even after they were allowed to return to UA, it became an unspoken tradition for them to sneak out to each others’ rooms occasionally. Maybe it was the lingering trauma, or maybe they both realized that they needed to be around people who understood what they’d been through. Either way, they had both gotten used to the comforting routine, and Kirishima counted himself extremely lucky that he hadn’t gotten caught and reprimanded by his teacher yet.

When he reached the third year dorms, he counted the doors until he arrived at Tamaki’s – right side, fifth one down. He stood in front of it and knocked as softly as possible.

A moment later, the door opened a crack, revealing half of his teammate’s face. As soon as he recognized Kirishima, he opened the door all the way.

“Hey,” Tamaki said as he rubbed his eyes, his voice heavier than usual.

“Hey.” Kirishima smiled sheepishly. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“No, it’s fine. I couldn’t sleep, either.” He stepped aside. “Come in.”

Kirishima walked through the doorway. Tamaki’s room looked exactly the same as it had the last time Kirishima was here, except for the fact that his teammate had accumulated a few more empty food containers on his floor. Most of them were stacked near an overflowing trash can in the corner. A half-eaten bag of chips sat on Tamaki’s nightstand next to a softly glowing lamp that kept changing colors. The bulletin board hanging over his desk looked like it had acquired a few more post-it notes, too. Most of them were reminders Tamaki had written to himself about study notes and test dates, but there were a few encouraging notes from Fat Gum pinned there, as well. He had a habit of sneaking them into his interns’ backpacks after patrol. Tamaki and Kirishima kept every single one of them.

Tamaki gave Kirishima a look of concern, eyebrows furrowed beneath his dark hair. “You okay?”

“…Yeah,” Kirishima said after a moment. “I was just… overthinking a lot today, I guess. Now my brain won’t shut up.” He tapped his forehead and forced himself to grin, as if to brush off his feelings as something they could just quickly laugh and forget about. But his teammate knew him better than that.

“I know the feeling,” Tamaki said with a frown. He looked at his bed, which was hopelessly unmade, pillows and blankets strewn everywhere. “You want the weighted blanket?”

Kirishima shook his head. “You take it.” If Tamaki couldn’t sleep, either, then he probably needed the weighted blanket more than him.

Tamaki nodded and got into bed, positioning himself on the side nearest to the wall. Kirishima climbed in after him, filling the empty space on the left side of the mattress. He grabbed one of Tamaki’s blankets and wrapped himself up in it. It smelled a little bit like takeout.

Pulling out his phone from under his pillow, Tamaki handed Kirishima an earbud, and for a little while they just sat there listening to music. It was a playlist Kirishima had listened to with him before, filled mostly with relaxing tracks from movies Tamaki liked. Tamaki listened to an eclectic range of music, but whenever he couldn’t sleep he always listened to things like this.

Kirishima leaned against his side, feeling himself getting sleepier. He appreciated the fact that Tamaki hadn’t asked him to explain what was wrong. Thanks to his constant struggle with anxiety, Tamaki understood too well that sleepless nights didn’t always have a concrete explanation behind them, and that sometimes, all you needed was a distraction. That had to be hard for him, but at the same time, it made him a lot more empathetic than most people Kirishima knew.

Tamaki nudged him. “Tired yet?”

“Mm.” Kirishima mumbled without opening his eyes. He handed him the earbud and Tamaki reached over him to set his phone on his nightstand. He shifted onto his side and wrapped an arm over Kirishima’s shoulder. Kirishima lay down and hugged him tightly, face buried in his shoulder. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to be hugged today.

If Tamaki noticed, he didn’t say anything about that, either. He just tightened his hold on him.

Kirshima closed his eyes, lulled by the sound of Tamaki’s soft breathing and his steady heartbeat in his ear. They were safe, and they were here, and they were both very much alive.

For now, that was enough.

Kirishima hugged Tamaki tighter and mumbled something into his t-shirt.

“Hmm?” came Tamaki’s quiet reply, his face partially buried in Kirishima’s hair.

Kirishima spoke up to repeat himself. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” Tamaki mumbled back, pulling the weighted blanket over both of them. “Just get some sleep.”

And somehow, in the middle of a dark night in a dangerous world, they did.

#kirishima #tamaki amajiki #kirishima fic #tamaki amajiki fic #bnha fic #kirishima oneshot #tamaki amajiki oneshot #kirishima drabble #tamaki amajiki drabble

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Stray Kids Reaction: First Kiss

A/n: I hope you like it! I think these turned out super cute! feel free to request again!

Requested by: @tropicalwrites (thank you bb)

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti (Tag List is open)

Bangchan:

Dates with Chan had been sparse lately. It wasn’t his fault. They were doing promotions for a comeback and Chan had absolutely zero free time and any time he did have, despite his protests, you wanted him to spend resting. “Y/n, please! I wanna see you!” Chan whined over the phone.

You sighed and looked at the time. The boys were still at the company, but would most likely be at the dorms in an hour or two. “Okay how about this. I’ll come over to the dorms and cook dinner for you and the boys tonight. That way you guys can have dinner as soon as you get home.” There was silence on the phone. “Chan? Chris? You there, love?”

“Sorry, you just made my heart explode.”

You laughed and hung up the phone. After a short car ride, you were inside the dorm and cooking a nice dinner for your incredible boyfriend and his band members. The steam from the cooking vegetables were starting to make you sweat a little. Grabbing a clip from your bag you pulled your hair out of your face and continued making the boys a good meal.

“Y/NNNNNNNNN!” Several boys screamed as the dorm door burst open. You smiled and finished putting food on plates. Felix attacked you with a hug and Hyunjin and Jisung followed soon after. “This looks really good, Y/n,” Felix said when everyone was seated at the table, Chan beside you. “I’m glad to have a break from cooking for these weirdos.”

Soon Chan was sending all the boys off to bed with full bellies and food comas. “I’ve missed you so much,” He said taking your hands and sitting on the arm of the couch. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to see you and talk to you, to hold you, and... other things,” Chan said blushing.

“What kind of other things?”

Chan looked down and shrugged, his dimples making a shy appearance. You watched him play with your fingers, subconsciously pulling you closer to him. It didn’t take a psychic to know what was on his mind. With a smile, you leaned down and pressed your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss, his thumb rubbing over your skin. When you pulled away Chan had the dopiest grin across his face. He fell back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling in a trance making you laugh.

“That was so awesome.”

Minho:

Minho sat next to you on the couch. He wasn’t necessarily close to you, but he wasn’t on the farthest side of the sofa either. The boys had been hinting that maybe your feelings for Minho were reciprocated. You had been reading into everything lately and you still came up with nothing. Minho was impossible.

The focus of the boy next to you was heavily trained on his phone. Some random game was enticing his attention away from you. Giving up, you crossed your arms and stared at the TV.

After letting out many precisely planned sighs hoping to grab Minho’s attention and failing you conceded and started flipping channels. Settling for a drama you watched the soap opera romance that played out on the screen. An hour passed and your stomach was beginning to growl.

“I’m gonna order a pizza.” You said pulling out your phone. Minho hummed in response. rolling your eyes you walked into the kitchen to grab a soda for you and the thick headed boy in your living room. The doorbell rang and you looked to the couch. Minho showed no sign of getting up still zoned in on his phone. “Don’t worry I’ll get it.” Your feet trudged over the door and you gave the pizza guy a half assed smile.

“Hi! That will be $22.46.” The boy smiled when you handed him the money as well as a nice tip. “Thanks, have a good night!”

You closed the door and plopped back onto the couch setting the pizza on the coffee table. A hand grabbed your wrist before you could open the hot cardboard box. Minho smashed his lips on yours, hand coming to the back of your neck. He pushed you onto the couch, hovering on top of you. Caught up in the moment your hands tangled in his hair enticing Minho to deepen the kiss.

As quickly as he had come onto you, he retreated, moving back to his previous spot on the couch and reaching for the pizza. You lay on the couch, completely confused. “What the hell was that?” Minho shrugged acting as if nothing had happened.

“What?” He picked up a slice and took a bite out of it. “I’m not allowed to kiss my girlfriend?”

You shook your head in disbelief. What? “Girlfr- What? When did this happen?” Again he shrugged like this was common knowledge you were the dumbest person on the planet, and you were starting to feel that way. He thought you were dating already?

“Y/n, you’ve cat-sitted for me at least twenty times. In my book, we are in a committed relationship after ten.” He handed you a slice of pizza and turned back to the TV. You watched as he threw an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “Congrats on being my girlfriend, dummy.”

Changbin:

“Seo Lewis Changbin!”

“Oh no.” Your best friend mumbled. He took off his headphones and turned to see you marching through the door of his studio. The pissed off expression on your face said everything and also nothing. Changbin only had a matter of seconds to recount everything he had done in the last twenty-four hours and apologize or face the consequences. “Hi, gorgeous, how’s your day?”

You simply rose an eyebrow and he quickly shut up. “Changbin, do you have something to tell me?” You could see the gears turning in his brain. The gears screaming ‘what did I do wrong this time’.

It was honestly a little fun to watch him squirm. You crossed your arms and ignored the giggles coming from the other side of the studio door. You knew Felix and Seungmin had followed you down the hall. They were the ones who told you about Changbin in the first place. “I’m sorry that I used your sweatshirt to clean up Minho’s cat piss. But you can have my hoodie.”

“YOU WHAT?”

He screamed as my hands attacked any unshielded spot on his body. “Stop! STOP! I BRUISE EASILY!” You huffed and stepped away. Changbin rubbed his bicep as if you had actually hurt him. “I’m sorry okay!” He scorched farther away from you. Though you had gotten him to confess it wasn’t the secret you were looking for.

“While I am pissed about that, and you will be getting me a new hoodie, that isn’t what I was talking about.” Changbin watched with wary eyes as you inched forward and leaned on the arms of his office chair. “I had a little conversation with Seungmin and Felix earlier.” Changbin visibly gulped.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“They sold me out?”

“They did indeed.” Changbin’s ears turned a dark shade of red. How you had never noticed your effect on your best friend before you would never know. Possibly because you were too focused on your own infatuation. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his, capturing them in a sweet kiss. Tilting your head you let your teeth drag slowly across Changbin’s bottom lip.

“Was that like a friend kiss or-?” Changbin asked when you pulled away. You rolled your eyes and kissed him again before he could ask another stupid question.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin was walking you home after a late night boba date. His hand was intertwined with yours as you walked in the warm spring air. “When is your next free day?” You asked swinging your hands as you strolled down the dimly lit streets. You felt safe with your boyfriend next to you.

He hummed, head lifting to the sky in thought. “I think...two weeks from now?” You sighed and he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I know, baby.” It was hard not seeing Hyunjin. He himself was having withdrawal issues from your company and the boys were starting to notice. His dating ban wasn’t up for another three months, so the two of you had to sneak around.

“What about nights?” He shooked his head ‘no’ and stopped under a street lamp. Leaning you back against the steel pole, you looked up at Hyunjin. “What about before morning meetings?” Hyunjin laughed, the sound making you smile.

He ran a hand through his blonde hair and dragged his touch down your arm. “Y/n, you and I both know neither of us are going to get up at four thirty in the morning.” You laughed and pulled Hyunjin closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Hyunjin gave you a soft smile and looked down at you. He made your heart pound in your chest. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it two weeks without you, Jinnie.” He sighed, nuzzling into your neck.

“Believe me, if you can’t then I definitely won’t.” You ran a hand through his soft hair making him sigh in content. Eventually, he pulled away and stared at you with longing. His eyes looked from your eyes to your mouth in question. After seeing the smallest nod he leaned in pressing his lips against yours.

You smiled into the kiss, threading your fingers through Hyunjin’s hair. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “What if I just ran away with you right now?”

“Jisung would absolutely murder you. You’re supposed to record tomorrow.” You said a little breathless, wanting his lips on yours again.

“True. Very true.” He came back, another fiery kiss being shared between you. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth. The two of you savored your last moments together under the dim golden glow of the street lamp.

Jisung:

“Hey, handsome,” You answered your ringing phone.

Jisung’s tired voice came through the call. “Y/n, baby, can you come over to the dorm?” You checked your watch and saw it was almost 2:30 in the afternoon. Usually, he was at the studio until three in the morning.

“Sure. I’ll be there in like ten minutes.” Slipping on a big hoodie and your shoes you grabbed your wallet and car keys and drove over to the dorms. When you got there most of the boys were in the kitchen or the common room. “Hi guys! Where’s Jisung?”

Chan waved and gave you a hug. “Oh- he’s in his room. Top bunk.” The boys waved as you walked by and you knocked quietly on the last door. A muffled voice belonging to your boyfriend told you to come in. You saw a single sweatpant covered leg hanging off one of the top bunks. Jisung’s head peeked over the side and he gave you a smile.

“Hi!” He said sleepily. Your sock feet padded over to the bed and you looked at him from over the side. “You wanna take a nap with me?” There was no helping the laugh that escaped.

“You called me just to take a nap with you?” He nodded, his eyes already droopy. It looked like he was waiting to fall asleep until you arrived. With a sigh, you began climbing up the ladder and Jisung lifted up the covers giving you a place to lay on his chest. “This is a tiny bed.”

“Shhhh. It’s nap time baby.”

Eventually, the both of you fell asleep. It was easy to relax in Jisung’s arms. He radiated warmth with his arms and legs wrapped around you. Soon your eyes blinked open only to find a dark room. You reached over Jisung to grab his phone. You looked to see it was nearing 11 o’clock at night. “What’s wrong, babe?” Jisung mumbled feeling you move. You told him the time and he laughed. “There’s no point in you leaving, so why don’t you just spend the night?” He whispered.

He smiled feeling you nod and he started running his long fingers through your hair. In the low light, you could only barely make up the features of Jisung’s face. You were only slightly surprised to feel Jisung’s lips on yours. The kiss was slow and sleepy, but sweet none the less. Your hands already around his stomach slipped under his shirt., feeling his warm skin.

Sleepy kisses were exchanged, Jisung’s long fingers playing with your hair and holding you close in the dark. He pulled you on top of him, leaving no space between you. After a while, the both of you fell back asleep and didn’t wake until morning

Felix:

Felix got a running start before launching himself off the cliff and into the water. You watched from the shore of the little alcove the two of you had found. You cheered seeing your boyfriend resurface in the center of the clear watering hole. “You gonna try?” He called, treading water. You shook your head, and he rolled his eyes. “Come on, there’s a smaller ledge, closer to the water.”

You looked to the rock face Felix had climbed moments earlier. The colors of green and blue were vibrant around you, making your own little paradise. “Fine.” Felix smiled, seeing you shed your coverup and began swimming back to the shore. He took your hand and led you to a smaller ledge half as high as the one he had previously jumped off of. The waterfall roared next to you and Felix laced his fingers with yours.

“Ready?” You nodded, a nervous smile on the corner of your mouth. You were comforted seeing Felix’s grin. “3, 2,..1!” The two of you leaped from the ledge and into the cool clear water, screams escaping as you fell. Felix held onto your hand tightly as the two of you sank beneath the water’s surface. “Wasn’t that fun?” He exclaimed as the two of you swam above the surface.

“Yeah, okay. That was fun.”

Felix smiled as the two of you treaded water. “You wanna do something else fun?” Before you could answer Felix started swimming to the waterfall. Trusting him, you followed. He gently took your hand, lifting you up on the slippery rocks. He led the two of you carefully behind heavy curtain of water into a tiny cave. The roaring of the falls echoed in the small space, obstructing your view of your secret alcove.

“Wow!” You said, reaching your hand under the water. Felix grinned, wet hair falling in front of his eyes. Stepping carefully, he made his way over to you wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widened at his bluntness, but you nodded palms resting against his bare chest. Hesitantly, Felix leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow at first, then picked up as Felix grew more confident. His lips danced against yours, one of his hands coming to tangle in your hair. The two of you parted, breathe heavy and lovestruck grins plastered on your faces.

Felix pulled away and started to do a little dance making you laugh. “What the hell are you doing?” He just continued to do his weird little dance as you watched and laughed at your dorky boyfriend behind the waterfall.

Seungmin:

Two weeks after Seungmin and you started dating, he and the rest of the boys left for a US tour. Thankfully his dating ban had been lifted early after an analysis by the company, so Seungmin was free to spend time with you anytime he wanted as long as it didn’t interfere with his schedules.

Your fingers tapped against your steering wheel. The red light turned green and you drove the rest of the way to the airport. Chan called you early this morning, about two hours ago, and told you their flight was getting in at five-thirty in the morning. You yawned, pulling into Seoul International Airport. Seungmin had called you the night before and told you not to bother meeting him since they would be arriving so early in the morning. But, you were determined.

After asking an attendant she directed you the flight gate the boys would be coming from. The sign you had made in the last hour, was bumping up against your legs as you ran through the cold airport. Seungmin’s sweatshirt was blocking the cold air from hitting your skin as you looked for gate A6.

A few other people were waiting as you approached the gate, but you pushed your way to the front. Your eyes frantically searched the sea of people as passengers came off the plane. Spotting Chan’s curly frizzy hair you held up your sign with a huge grin on your face.

Chan spotted you first and then laughed at your sign. He called back into the group of boys behind him, who all turned to look at you. Before you knew it, your boyfriend was pushing himself to the front of the group and he laughed when he saw your sign, falling to the ground and covering his face.

‘Welcome Home Hot Stuff’ the sign read with a funny meme of Seungmin that Felix had sent you a couple days ago glue on the poster board. Not wanting to be apart from you anymore Seungmin ran over and wrapped you up in his arms. “Y/n, I have missed you so much. Why are you here? It’s 5:30! Is this my sweatshirt? I can’t believe you’re here! Honey, I’ve missed you so much-”

You smashed your lips against his cutting off his ramblings. After getting over the shock, Seungmin kissed you back, dropping everything in his hands. He cupped your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. Your head was spinning in the best way possible. “Welcome home, Minnie.” You whispered against his lips, making him smile.

“Let’s go get breakfast.” He said with a smile and took the sign from you, looking at your craft project.

Jeongin:

Jeongin and you lay on the floor of your dorm room a board game between the two of you. Rain pelted against your window, thunder rolling outside. Jeongin moved his game piece six spaces before looking up at you with a smile. You sat with a mug of warm tea in your hands and Jeongin’s hoodie swallowing you in warmth.

“You are too cute,” Jeongin mumbled, leaning his cheek into his palm.

Attempting to hide your blush, you brought the steaming cup up to your mouth and took a sip. “Jeongin, really you don’t have to stay here. I’m no scared of the storm.” He shrugged and rolled the dice for you, moving it four spaces. You got up, the sweatshirt falling over your shorts. The mug clunked against the wood as you set it on your desk.

Jeongin watched you walk over and pulled you down into his lap. “What if I’m the one scared of the storm?” He questioned, pushing a piece of hair away from your face. Rolling your eyes you giggled and kissed his cheek. “Okay, you’re right. I’m not scared of the storm.”

“Innie, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. My roommate is staying at her boyfriend’s.”

Jeongin smiled, placing a loving kiss on the side of your neck. He reached over and rolled the dice as lightning flashed outside. The cold air of the dorm made you snuggled deeper into the warm fabric of Jeongin’s hoodie. Sensing movement in his lap he wrapped a protective arm around you as he moved his game piece with his other hand.

“I think I’m going to win in the next two moves.” You said, causing your boyfriend to turn his head. He looked at you with raised brows and laughed.

“Oh really?”

You nodded and moved your piece to the final block on the board. “Yep. I win.” Jeongin laughed and looked into your eyes. His knuckles brushed over your cheek his breath ghosting over your lips. You inched forward, desperately wanting to close the small gap between you. A smirk tilted on the corner of Jeongin’s mouth, seeing your impatience.

Softly, gently, his lips pressed against yours. His lips tasted like coffee, and he smelled like the rain that was falling outside. You dragged your lips against his savoring every moment with him. As you pulled away Jeongin chases after your lips, making you giggle.

Your eyes looked to the window and Jeongin trailed his lips tenderly down your jaw, before resting his chin on your shoulder. “You stand corrected.” He whispered, kissing your lips again. “I win.”

Requests are open lovelies! Just send an ask!

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that-bi-bitch-writes · 3 years

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A Cursed Reality- JJk x Male Reader (Ch.5)

This chapter is a little longer than usual and very dialogue heavy. (also plenty of swearing). Sorry if the scene is disappointing but I'm not super good at fight scenes and I'm hoping to develop them as I go on. Also if I made [Name] OP then everything would be over too quickly.

Let me know what you think about the chapter in the comments (or the tags!!) enjoy

Last || Next

Chapter Five:

“Kugisaki-chan. Be honest with me. On a scale of Gojo to Yuji how stupid do you think I am?”

“Eh? Do you really want me to answer that?”

“... Yes”

“If I had to pick an idiot I’d say Gojo-sensei. He at least has the brain power to understand jujutsu. I mean he’s a childish and immature old man who ignores what’s staring him right in his face but he wouldn’t ask me what animal the pink panther was.”

[Name] uttered out a confused thank you before thinking ‘I have got to stop starting conversations like this’

He almost never gets the answer he wants. It’s like as soon as he asks the question he becomes humanized and not a mysterious special grade sorcerer a few seconds from ending someone’s life for finishing off the fruit snacks. (Based on a true story. Gojo can confirm.)

“You’re welcome. Why’d you ask anyway?”

“Actually I think I’ll jinx it if I talk about it. Plus I don’t want you to think poorly of your ‘superiors’ but let’s just say there are people plotting behind my back and I’m wondering if I have idiot written across the top of my head”

“Okay... “

“On a lighter note, do you think any of the other first years know how close we are?”

“I was asked whether or not the Pink Panther was a lion and spoken to in 6 word sentences just yesterday. You’re the only person I can hang out with. The other two are people I spend time with”

“What about Maki?”

“That’s totally different. You should know you have a totally different relationship with Gojo and Inumaki.”

“Explain”

“You and Gojo fight and tease each other like siblings or something and you and Inumaki spend time alone. Together. And sometimes you like go out and eat food and stuff”

“You make it sound like we’re dating”

“You’re not?”

“No”

“Hmm”

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

[Name] absolutely hates talking on the phone and everyone knows this. Facetime has been like a happy medium whenever people need to get in touch with him but it’s still extremely annoying to have to have a face to face conversation over the phone.

“Why are you calling me Gojo?”

“My precious little [Name] I was just checking up on you to see how your day off is going?”

“It was going fine until you called and interrupted my peace”

“Don’t be like that [Name] I know you miss me”

“As if- No puppy- WAIT!”

Gojo furrowed his eyebrows “[Name]-chan?”

“Hmm?”

“Since when do you have a pet?”

“I made Fushiguro give me one of his divine dogs”

“Aww. That’s so sweet of Megumi. But you can’t keep calling him puppy. Give him a real name”

“He does have a real name I call him yu-yu”

“So who were you calling Puppy?”

“...Yuji”

“.....”

“Don’t make it weird”

“It’s already weird”

“Look me in the camera and tell me he doesn’t remind you of like a golden retriever or somethin”

“You made several points but still”

“It’s supposed to be derogatory”

“It’s a pet name”

“He’s hyper, adorable and excitable. I’m pointing out the obvious. Me calling him puppy has the same energy as calling someone four eyes”

“It does not”

“....I have to go Yuji just found out about Megan Thee Stallion”

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

“Are you a Fall out boy emo or like Lorde sad boy?”

“That’s a loaded question”

“It most definitely is” [Name] replied holding back laughter “But I can like, vibe to either one so just play whatever music you like and I’ll enhance the atmosphere.”

“...Okay”

That day was definitely the most relaxed Fushiguro had been in weeks, and [Name] learned some very interesting things about Fushiguro’s…. tastes. They definitely had some things in common.

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

“You’re sending me on a mission”

“Yes”

“Alone?”

“[L.Name] you’re a special grade sorcerer. You can handle a first-grade curse on your own”

“I most definitely can, but so can others. Both Gojo and Okkotsu are away on missions. Are you telling me in your expert wisdom, you’re making the choice to dispatch all of the Special Grade sorcerer’s for first-grade curses? What if something happens on home turf.”

“I assure you if there’s an attack on the school Principal Yaga can handle the threat.”

“I’m not talking about the school.”

There was a brief silence in which [Name] just stared “You have your orders”

“I do”

And [Name] absolutely did have his orders. Ones that aligned with his personal feelings. You see, a little while ago Gojo ordered [Name] to protect Yuji. And if anything were to happen to the precious angel, it would be the one day that both he and Gojo were away. Yaga cares more for the rules than Gojo or [Name]. That was one thing [Name] didn’t like about both Yaga and Nanami. They cared about the kids, but only to an extent. In their eyes the kids would die out or grow older but rules wouldn’t change, and Yuji’s life mattered less to them than the stagnant outdated rules.

The larger problem was whether or not [Name] was willing to face the consequences for not following orders from the “respected” higher ups. Then there was the whole issue of actual people being in danger and that wouldn’t go over well, not with the old assholes nor with [Name]’s conscience.

‘I fucking hate Satoru.’ [Name] thought as he set out to do actual work. Ever since he got sent on that mission he found himself caring for more and more people. If he was going to exorcise the curse and return to make sure Yuji and the others first years were all safe, he would have to race against the clock. There was no doubt in his mind that something was going to happen today and he knew Sukuna wouldn’t let Yuji die without a fight.

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

“What the actual fuck is going on anymore?? THREE FIRST YEARS WERE SENT TO DEFEAT A WHAT?” [Name] yelled into the phone

“A cursed womb”

“Say it as it really is Ijichi! They were sent in to fight a fucking special grade curse. They’re barely equipped to fight a second grade curse, and it isn’t as if having you there is going to help them much”

Ijichi flinched at that. [Name] only went for low blows when he was pissed, and it was obvious pretty soon someone would have to face his wrath. And because he knew what was best for his safety and peace of mind, Ijichi answered [Name]’s question before he asked

“I warned them not to engage a special grade so they should be fine until you get here. I lowered the curtain myself so you’ll be able to get in. They’re at Eishu Juvenile Detention Center”

“I’ll be there in 10”

[Name] would probably make it in less time than that but he always made sure to be careful with making promises. There was always a chance he would run into some issues on the way there. Grabbing his things, he set out for the detention center hoping Nobara and Megumi were okay. Yuji was stronger than those two, though Megumi could be a suicidal idiot at times. If things got anymore serious they’d let Sukuna out, but that would be a whole other problem.

“Ijichi, i’m here”

“...[Name]”

“What?”

“Kugisaki is hurt. I'm driving back to the school.”

“If you’re driving back, why is the curtain still up?”

“Fushiguro went back in to deal with Sukuna who’s more than likely already taken care of the curse I recommend-”

[Name] hung up. “Fucking rule followers and their precious higher ups. And look what a mess I have to take care of” he said as he looked up at the curtain. He sighed and then walked through

“I don’t feel a curse- is that megumi” [Name] thought aloud

“He ain’t coming back” Sukuna teased “Don’t worry I’m in a good mood. Let’s talk”

“I’m not feeling particularly chatty” [Name] called out. Fushiguro and Sukuna turned to the second year in shock

“Fushiguro you should go”

“No. I’m not leaving you alone. And besides it’s my responsibility-”

“Do you think I’m here to kill Yuji?”

“...”

“I’m here to rescue your sorry asses. I was sent on a mission earlier and came back in a hurry to make sure you were okay. I’m a little sad I don’t get to meet the curse that hurt poor Kugisaki-chan but he’ll make do” [Name]’s voice became darker the longer he went on

“My fighting skill is nowhere near the level of Maki’s, but my cursed technique on the other hand… Don’t worry, Yuji’ll make it out alive”

Fushiguro hesitated. He trusted [Name], it was Sukuna who was the problem. The curse was cunning and took advantage of Fushiguro’s hesitation to enact his plan

“It seems he’s having a hard time changing back” Sukuna started “This must be a side effect of using me without restrictions. It’s most likely only a matter of time though… So i’ve been thinking about my next move.”

Before [Name] or Fushiguro could realize, Sukuna had ripped Yuji’s heart out, smiling as blood dripped out of his mouth and the gaping hole in his chest. The two of them froze. If he were at his best [Name] would’ve been able to stop Sukuna from continuing to monologue or even from swallowing another of his fingers. But he had defeated a first grade curse, dealt with the higher ups and rushed to the first years’ rescue within 3 hours.

Fushiguro seemed to follow the conversation as [Name] just stood there, his ears ringing as if he were standing too close to a bomb that went off.

“Itadori will return” Megumi said confidently “Even if it means his death. He’s that kind of guy”

And Megumi was right, [Name] knew of it. So he made a sacrifice. Fushiguro would have to deal with Sukuna while [Name] figured out what to do next. With two fingers Sukuna might’ve been able to resist [Name]’s compulsion. ‘No’ he thought ‘it would take a few more fingers before he was that strong.’

“Stop”

The both of them froze in place. There was a trail of blood running down Yuji’s chest but [Name] could tell Sukuna had done more damage to Megumi than Megumi had done to Yuji’s body

“Stay out of my way Megumi” [Name] said before looking in Sukuna’s eyes “Yuji, if you can hear me. I’m sorry”

“This brat’s not worth the effort” Sukuna smirked. He may not have been able to move but he was going to try and tempt the second year into losing his composure.

“Choke”

Sukuna began to gargle on the blood that was supposed to be pumping through Yuji’s body. Choking, he fell on the ground. Megumi’s eyes widened and he moved to say something but [Name] shot him a desperate, angry look picking up Yuji’s discarded heart shoving it into the empty cavity.

“Heal Him”

“It’s too late [Name]”

“Yuji?? No! NO! YUJI! SWITCH BACK I CAN MAKE HIM HEAL YOU”

“Megumi. [Name]. And Kugisaki and Gojo-sensei. Well I guess I don’t have to worry about him. Live a long life okay?” Yuji smiled as tears dripped onto his face

“I Heard A Rumor” [Name] whispered “That nothing happened and you were gonna be okay”

“What a nice rumor senpai” “Yuji whispered back before the light in his eyes faded

Fushiguro laid a hand on [Name]’s shoulder looking up to the sky as he tried to keep from crying. [Name] let out a pained scream shocking Fushiguro. Megumi wrapped his arms around [Name] trying to pull him up and meeting resistance Fushiguro just walked toward the exit before stopping. Without looking back he said “I’ll send Gojo to collect you both” and then walked off.

Gojo did come back to pick up the body and the shell shocked [Name] but when he showed up there was nothing there. As if the land behind the two had just up and walked away. Gojo wasn’t informed of [Name]’s rumor but assumed the boy did it out of rage. He was the only one able to wipe a location off the map so cleanly. What he didn’t realize that if the land had returned to its natural state as if nothing had ever happened, Yuji was bound to be okay

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x m!reader #x male reader #x reader #male reader #male reader insert #x m!reader #xmr

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iamtheblondestblonde · 3 years

Text

The Clark Kent Effect

Part One

AN: So this is meant to be the beginning of a (semi short) series, depending on how well it’s received. Feedback is therefore more than appreciated and always remember I love reading tags. Feel free to message me or send me anons as well, every interaction makes my day :)

To all my American followers: please go vote tomorrow, I don’t even live there but I still know how important it is.

Word Count: 2.9k (short boi)

Warnings: alcohol and one swear word maybe?

Part Two

My other writing can be found here

While your costume had seemed like a great idea two days ago you now thought differently.

Technically it was a great costume, but only because you hadn’t exactly planned on needing to step out of the club to make an angry phone call. Alas here you were, legs shaking and teeth clattering because of your stupidly short dress, this situation the last nail in the coffin that would finally pronounce your disaster with Colin dead for good. You weren’t sad about it in the least, only cold. If only you’d thought of grabbing your jacket on your way outside this wouldn’t be as bad, it was the end of October and you were in New York after all, but you’d been so angry to see his caller ID on your screen that you’d stormed out without thinking, which you now deeply regretted.

Stepping back inside was like heaven and running into a wall at the same time, if said wall was made out of hot air and the smell of sweat, hairspray and alcohol. You really shouldn’t be happy about stuffy air, but at least you weren’t shivering anymore so you were going to mark it down as a success in your books. Since the restrooms were close to your right you made a quick detour, checking if everything was still where it was supposed to be.

At least your boobs hadn’t fallen out yet and you dismissed the judgy stares in the restroom as you readjusted your cleavage and reapplied your bold red lipstick. Normally you’d stare as well, not judging but usually intrigued by women who portrayed such confidence but tonight you were one of these women and you wouldn’t let anyone else ruin it. You’d earned a good night out after finally escaping Colin’s manipulative fuckboy ways and telling him to get lost for good.

So with your chin up and your shoulders straight you stepped out of the restroom, determined to find your group of friends again so you could get drunk and finally have a good time. It took a bit longer than you’d like to admit, your heels only barely giving your tiny frame a height advantage but then you finally spotted the fluffy halo of your best friend. After making sure that it was really her – there were enough angels in this room to make any priest happy after all – you quickly made your way over to her.

Or at least you tried.

You’d only gotten a few steps in when your heel got caught in the costume of a guy dressed up as mummy – which really only consisted of his regular clothes and what you estimated to be about three rolls of toilet paper – and you stumbled. You could already see yourself in the emergency room of the closest hospital with a broken nose from crashing to the ground, blood running down your face and staining your already red dress. Perhaps you could play it off as a part of your costume but it’d still hurt and your night would definitely be over.

But none of that happened because you were saved by a very handsome Superman. He’d stood with his back to you, you’d definitely spotted his broad shoulders underneath the stretched blue fabric earlier, but he’d turned in your direction right before gravity had decided to take its toll on you. Apparently his costume was justified though, because he caught you with cat-like reflexes, wrapping his hands around your arms and pulling you back towards an upright position before anything damaging could happen.

He was a lot taller than you so the first thing you really noticed of him was his throat and perhaps you really should’ve dressed up as a vampire because you noticed that he had a very sexy throat, if that was even a thing. Your weird thoughts were interrupted by him chuckling though and your gaze quickly snapped up to meet his and you really weren’t sure if you should congratulate or scold yourself for how you’d managed to end up in his arms.

The handsome stranger was wearing glasses in true Clark Kent fashion and his hair was better than any DC artist could have dreamed of, perfectly tousled in the way that showed that he liked to run his hands through it and you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t tempted to do the same. In the dim lighting of the club you couldn’t make out the color of his eyes behind his glasses but they could honestly be yellow and he’d still be hot as fuck.

Sometime during your almost-fall your hands had ended up on his chest and you really should be embarrassed about the fact that you were practically feeling him up but somehow you couldn’t find yourself to care enough to let go. You relaxed your hands from the tight grasp they had on his shirt and instead carefully splayed them out on his chest as if you were going to push yourself off of him but not really doing so. With how you were pressed against him you could feel the heat radiating through his shirt and how firm his body was, his muscular built more and more evident with every passing second. His hands had started to wander as well, moving up from the side of your arms towards the top of your shoulders, the size of them burning itself into your mind as you just stared at each other.

If one were to ask you what day it was right this moment, you honestly wouldn’t be able to answer them despite everyone in this club dressed in Halloween costumes. Mozart himself could have returned from the dead to perform “Eine kleine Nachtmusik” with a string quartett in the middle of this dancefloor and you probably wouldn’t have noticed right now, too caught up in the eyes of this handsome stranger.

When he reached up with one of his hands to adjust the little devil’s horns on top of your head you blinked in surprise, finally snapping out of your daze.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry, I totally didn’t mean to crash into you but my heel got caught and-“, you began to ramble, your sense of common decency finally kicking in but he only laughed and since neither of you had taken a step backwards yet you could feel it rumbling through his chest.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind having beautiful girls quite literally falling for me”, he joked and if he were any other guy you probably would’ve scoffed at his choice of words but somehow the boyish charm worked well for him and you found yourself grinning as you came up with a response.

“Mmm let’s hope this isn’t a normal occurrence for you because I’m not a fan of getting caught in traffic.” You finally found the strength to take a, very reluctant, step back, untangling yourself from his grasp and dropping your hands but still smiling up at him. He definitely had the potential to be your catch for the night. You could really use the distraction after all.

Your blissful thoughts were interrupted by someone tugging at your arm though, a look over your shoulder revealing a pouting angel dressed in white and with a bouncing halo. It seemed like Emily had found you instead after you’d gotten distracted by your hero.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over the place for you”, she whined and you could tell by her slurred words that she’d gotten quite the head start while you were outside on your phone as she was well on her way to get plastered. Otherwise she never would’ve interrupted a conversation with a hot guy either, it was an unspoken wingwoman rule after all.

“Come on, Dana just brought a new round of shots and you need to catch up!” And with that she tightened her grip on your wrist and pulled you away. You barely managed to tell the handsome stranger to come find you later before he disappeared between the writhing bodies and was out of your sight.

Way too many shots later you found yourself on the dance floor, intoxicated and having a great time.

Your thoughts hadn’t wandered to Superman in quite a while, too consumed by alcohol and the thumping beat of the music, until you spotted him leaning against the banister of the top floor, drink in one hand and definitely watching you. Again, this would be creepy if he were anyone else but in this case it only made you appreciate the current sensual song even more, your eyes never leaving his as you moved your body to the beat. You were planning on going home with him later either way, you could tease him a little more before then, show him what he could have if he played his cards right.

He was still watching you a couple of songs later when your throat had gotten dry and your heels were starting to grow uncomfortable. In need of a break you pointed towards the bar, hoping that he’d understand and when he nodded you smiled brightly, excusing yourself from your group of friends so you could grab some water. You were done drinking for tonight, much more exciting things laying ahead of you and you wanted to be sober for them.

Water was apparently a welcome change from the regular orders the bartenders got because you were served immediately, a cool bottle set in front of you seconds later. You checked over your shoulder before taking a sip, spotting your Superman as he made his way towards you with a smile, one you returned before turning back around to climb on the stool that had just freed up so you could give your feet a well-deserved break.

When you felt a tap on your shoulder you fully expected it to be the hot guy, your most dazzling smile instantly on your lips as you turned around but it quickly fell off your face as you realized who it really was.

When you were younger you’d often imagined yourself in this moment, thought of what you’d say when you’d finally see him again after all this time apart. A small part of you had pined after him for years and fantasies of how your eyes would meet from across the room and how everything else would stop mattering had filled your daydreams once upon a time. But as you looked at him now there were no butterflies, no fireworks and you could still hear some remix of “Monster Mash” blaring over the speakers, the world was definitely still turning.

Perhaps you’d built up what had been between the two of you in your mind in the years of his absence, put him on a pedestal – he deserved to be one though because through everything he had been nothing short of a great guy – but as you looked at him you realized that all that was in the past. There was just a warm afterglow of what once was. As you looked at him now, there was absolutely no doubt that you didn’t love Anthony Beauvillier anymore.

“I wasn’t sure if it was really you, but wow Y/N you look great”, his familiar voice met your ears and it took you a second to realize that he’d slipped into French, the way the two of you had done countless times as teenagers.

You probably resembled a fish with the way you were opening and closing your mouth without saying anything but you couldn’t help yourself. Seeing Tito in this club had hit you like a fright train and you hadn’t expected it at all, which only made it worse.

Almost 20 Million people lived in New York State and over 8.3 Million in New York City alone. Brooklyn housed well over 500.000 people as well and yet you still managed to run into your ex in this club, despite the both of you growing up in Québec. If you were any good at math you would calculate the probability of this happening but you’d always sucked at it and it really wouldn’t help your situation either. You reminded yourself that you both worked here now but that was absolutely beside the point.

Before you managed to embarrass yourself even further you shook your head to clear your thoughts, smiling at the guy who had once held your heart before making the break into the NHL. He was dressed as a boy scout, with medals pinned to his shirt, the scarf thingy and everything and the costume was so incredibly him that you immediately felt catapulted back into your teenage years. It was easy to fall back into your old routine then.

“Oh yeah, do you think your Mom would still speak so highly of me if she saw me dressed as a slutty devil?”, you joked and he threw his head back in laughter, taking you even more by surprise when he threw his arms around you in a hug. It was a bit awkward with you sitting on the bar stool and all and it made you realize that he himself didn’t even feel the same anymore, his career of being a professional athlete shaping his body into a much more bulkier version of the one you were used to.

As you looked over his shoulder you caught the gaze of your Superman and your thoughts immediately returned to him. What must he be thinking of you hugging another stranger at the bar after telling him to come see you? The confusion was evident of his face, a crease between his eyebrows giving his thoughts away and you noticed how he scrunched up his nose in a very cute way so you immediately pulled back from Tito, reaching up to adjust your horns as a disguise for your sudden movement.

“So, did you finally manage to make your dreams of living and working in New York City come true?”, he asked as he took a step closer to let someone else pass by and you nodded, amazed that he still remembered after all these years. He really was one of the good guys.

“Yep, I finally made it, although it’s not as glamorous as I thought it would be. But maybe that’s only us working class people, I’m sure it’s a lot different in your line of work.” Thankfully he picked up on your teasing and wasn’t insulted, only laughing even more as he finally had the space to move next to you so he could look at the crowd as well.

“Speaking of work..”, he trailed off as he switched back to English and to your utter disbelief he waved your Superman over. Superman was reluctant to move at first, that much you could tell by looking at him, and since you watched him extra closely you were probably the only one to catch him flinching a little as Tito threw his arm around his shoulders but his confused expression was obvious as he looked between the two of you.

“Y/N, this is my teammate and best friend Mat, I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Mat, this is my ex Y/N. You’ve also heard of her.”

Of course you’d heard of Mathew Barzal, last year’s Calder winner and rising star among the NHL’s elite players but it seemed like you were a victim of the Clark Kent Effect because you hadn’t recognized him at all with the glasses on.

Now your Superman had a name but the only thing you could focus on were the words “best friend”. No matter how hot Mat was and how much you’d wanted him before, very much imagining him helping you out of your tight dress, you couldn’t do that to Tito.

Mat seemed to come to the same realization as you because he plastered what could only be described as a business smile on his face, extending his hand for you to shake. You took it, relishing in the way his warm palm felt against yours and allowing yourself to enjoy his touch one last time before letting go and smiling at him with sad eyes as you introduced yourself.

Tito stayed to order a drink, pulling Mat and you into a conversation and therefore preventing your escape and while that was already bad enough in itself, he unknowingly took your breath away when he asked Mat:

“Hey, did you ever find that hot klutz you told me about? The one that fell into your arms earlier?”

Tito had his back towards the both of you so he didn’t see the way Mat looked down at you with sad eyes as well before pulling himself together and responding:

“Yeah, but turns out she’s not available after all.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur, you’d returned to alcohol after saying goodbye to Tito and Mat and promising Tito to stay in touch, so you barely remembered climbing into an uber hours later and only really came to your senses when you chugged a water bottle in your kitchen.

“Wait, weren’t you planning on going home with that hot Superman you mentioned earlier? What happened to him?”, Emily asked from her spot on the couch, her usual spot after a night out since your apartment was closer.

“I guess he left”, you answered, not really willing to go into any details right now.

“Aw, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

And wasn’t that the truth.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #new york islanders #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey writing #my writing #nhl players #nhl

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bbyboibinnie · 3 years

Text

two of us

synopsis: love is hard to come by, especially when the boy you’ve been pining over is already taken. pairing: reader x jisung genre: fluff, angst, romance, college au warning: explicit language/cursing wc: 2.8k

one

It was halfway through your senior year in high school when you two had met. This was unexpected to say the least because it was the last semester of your last year; you had no intentions of making any new friends, considering you already had a handful of people you were close with and stuck by for the last three years. It was Chan that introduced you to him. You had known Chan for awhile–he was your lab partner for two consecutive years now–and although you considered him as a friend, you had never actually hung out outside of school before, unless it was for a group project of course. However, one day he had invited you to his birthday celebration and that was the day when you met his other friends, one of them being Jisung.

“Woah, slow down there.” His word caught you by surprise as you were stuffing cupcakes in your mouth. You didn’t really know any of Chan’s friends at the time and socializing with new people didn’t exactly come by easily for you, so you had opted to linger around the snack table instead.

Hastily dusting the crumbs off your face, you introduced yourself, “Oh, hey. My name is y/n.”

“I’m Jisung. I think we have calculus together right?” You looked at him closely; with black hair, deep brown eyes, and round cheeks you couldn’t lie–he was pretty cute, but you shook your head in response as you didn’t recognize him.

“Ya, Jisung! Come help me set up the cake!” Another one of the boys had called out, cutting your conversation with him short.

“Keep an eye out for me in calc.” He said as he was dragged away into the kitchen.

two

Sure enough, he was in the same math class as you. Honestly, besides your best friend in that period, you really didn’t pay attention to the other people. After all, the class was impacted and half of them were underclassmen so why bother remembering all the names and faces?

It was the day after the party and you looked around at everyone in the class; it only took you a moment before you spotted him in a seat two rows over. The lecture hadn’t started yet so he was talking to his friends. You didn’t feel the need to get up to go over and spark a conversation or anything, but when you two made eye contact, you gave him a quick smile before turning back to face the front board.

For a while, you two would occasionally spare glances at each other and wave or smile if you locked eyes, but there was nothing more. It wasn’t until after the latest exam when he approached you again.

“Hey, how’d you think you did?” He asked, waiting as you finished packing up your belongings.

“Could’ve done better. What about you?” You made your way to the door and he followed suit.

“Just hoping for that passing grade. Anyway, Chan and I were going to meet up to grab food after class today, wanna come?” You debated going with them for a second but ended up agreeing anyways.

You didn’t know what to make of Jisung at first, considering you had only exchanged a few words, but after hanging with him, even if it was just for a few hours, you found him to be quite likable.

From then on, he stuck around and you didn’t mind, in fact, perhaps you enjoyed his presence a lot more than you were willing to admit.

three

High school came and went but you were ready to face the new challenges and opportunities that college presented. Most of your other friends had been accepted to places further away, but you had settled for community for the time being. For the most part, you were an independent person; therefore, you tried to not be clingy when your friends left to reach their own goals–you’d see them soon enough again–but you had been worried about starting this whole new chapter of your life alone, luckily for you, someone by the name of Han Jisung had enrolled right alongside you.

As days went by, you two were seen together more and more. Of course he met new people, and so did you, but it was always nice to have someone familiar to go back to and for you, that familiar face was Jisung, and for him, that person was you.

Your majors were completely different and so were your classes, but you still spent time with him studying, ranting about professors, and passing out in each other’s rooms after staying up to finish assignments.

“Hey, Jisung,” you whispered, trying to not startle him awake, “it’s almost midnight. You should probably head back to your place before it gets too late.” He was slumped over your desk, fingers lifelessly placed atop the keyboard of his laptop, already drifting into a deeper state of sleep. “Jisung.” You tried again, only to have him groan in response. Shaking your head, you draped a throw blanket over his figure before returning to your workload.

It had gone on like this for weeks, months, nearly a year. One night he’d sleep over at your place and the next you’d be at his. Both of you had been accustomed to this routine now and you thought nothing of it, however, the more time you spent with him, the more you found things to like about him, and that’s what you were afraid of in the beginning–falling for him.

four

You were never the type to fall head over heels for anyone, all throughout elementary, middle, and high school, you only had occasional crushes but nothing significant. Yet,

there was something about him that you couldn’t shake off. Maybe it was the way he always made stupid jokes that you couldn’t help but laugh at, or perhaps it was the way he played his guitar and share the new songs he wrote with you first before anyone else got to hear them. It was the smile that reached his eyes and the way he knew you so well, like the back of his hand. It was everything.

You didn’t expect anything more out of the platonic relationship, but you couldn’t just get rid of the feelings on demand, so you had to let them settle and hope that they’d go away eventually, of course that didn’t work.

five

Just because you saw Jisung differently, didn’t mean he would have the same outlook on you.

“What do you think would make a good first date?” Jisung had asked casually over the counter. You were currently on shift at the local boba shop and Jisung often tagged along; typically he just sat there and did his homework as he waited, but on days where store traffic was low, he would ease your boredom by talking aimlessly. This particular caught you off guard though.

“Um, I’m not sure. Why do you ask?” You said, trying to sound casual, while restocking the ingredients.

“Well, I finally managed to receive a ‘yes’ after I asked someone out earlier today.” He said, smiling to himself in satisfaction. You were shocked, but at the same time, not at all. During the twelve months or so that you’ve known him, relationships weren’t a common topic of discussion. Yes, it did come up a few times but college and just life in general was already too time consuming so you didn’t bother with relationships, and neither did he.

“Wow, I’m impressed Jisung. I didn’t think anyone would fall for a clown like you.” You teased him, hoping your disappointment wasn’t showing. You knew that it was a platonic relationship and had set no expectations, yet you still felt a wave of sadness wash over.

“Oh, haha. Seriously though, I only prepared on how to ask them out, but I didn’t think past that because I wasn’t sure I’d even make it this far.”

“In that case, why don’t you consider what the person likes and try to set up something that you both would enjoy? Personally, I don’t think you could go wrong with arcade, pizza, and boba though. I could even hook you up with a discount on the boba.” You said jokingly in an attempt to lift your mood up.

“What would I do without you? You better keep your word about that discount though. Oh shit, I gotta head back and finish my essay, see ya y/n. Also, text me when you get back to your place!” He shouted the last part as he was in the midst of exiting and the door jingled as it shut behind him.

six

So his date had gone well and now his status went from ‘single’ to ‘taken’ while you were still struggling to manage your unrequited feelings. You had accepted the situation for what it was but that didn’t make it any easier.

Naturally as he began to split his time between his new relationship and you, the time you spent with him dwindled down. Weekly study sessions became bi-weekly, which turned into monthly events. You didn’t hold this against him though, you were glad he found someone to connect with.

“Hey, sorry I’m late… again.” Jisung said sheepishly as he entered your room, with a backpack slung over his shoulders, messy hair, and pink marks peeking out from under his t-shirt. You were flustered at the sight, knowing that he had just come back from being with his significant other, doing who knows what.

“Uh, it’s okay. Just–let’s just get to studying.” You preoccupied yourself with your various notes and textbooks and tried you best not to be distracted. Suddenly, somewhere along the line, tension began to build. Maybe you were just imagining it but something had shifted between you and Jisung these days, and it gave you a sense of hopelessness because there was nothing you could do about it.

seven

More time had passed and your friendship was still afloat, but it definitely wasn’t the same as before. It seems like everything has its peak and you two have surpassed that; what goes up must come down, so it was all downhill from there.

As his relationship became more unstable and doubts, he slowly began to make his way back to you. You should’ve been happy, even elated at this fact, but you weren’t.

“I don’t know what happened. One minute we were fine and the next we were arguing. It’s like I am dating a different person now.” He expressed to you, once again at the boba shop you were still working at. It had actually been awhile since he came.

“Mmhhm.” You nodded wordlessly as you continued to spray down the tables with disinfectants.

“The argument was so petty, I should’ve known better than to engage in it.” The rant continued on and on and you had mindlessly agreed with everything he said, until he noticed you weren’t even paying attention.

“Y/n, are you even listening to me?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, then will you give me your entire life savings?”

“Yes.”

“Y/n!” He shouted, getting up from his seat to stand directly in front of you on the other side of the counter. His loud voice startled you and you looked up, only to face a boy who was seething in anger. “Why are you blatantly ignoring me? I’m trying to rant to you and you’re not even helping.”

That was the last straw.

“Listen, don’t come in here asking me to be your guidance counselor after cancelling our plans on dozens of occasions. Also, how could you really expect me to give you my time when you can’t even spare me a minute on any other day. You’ve been a real jerk lately and you haven’t even noticed it! I can’t believe I ever liked someone like you!” The indirect confession left your mouth before you could stop yourself, and he stood there absolutely dumbfounded.

eight

That night, you immediately wanted to hide in the back of the store and hope whatever happened never happened, but you were tired of miscommunication.

“You like me?” Between the two of you, he was the one who had the courage to break the silence.

“Liked. I liked you. Past tense.”

“Do you still like me? Present tense.”

“No, I don’t–or maybe. I don’t know right now.” You had mentally convinced yourself that you were over him, but trying to admit it out loud proved otherwise.

“Y/n, I–” He started but you cut him off before he could finish.

“Maybe you should just go home now. I need some time to think.” He had hesitated for a moment, but eventually, he respected your wishes.

nine

It had been over a week, nearing two weeks, since you’ve talked to him. You already had so much on your plate with finals coming around and constantly having to work, so this was not something you wanted to deal with now, or ever actually. But closure was necessary, for you and for him, so you decided that once finals were over, you’d set things straight.

Grabbing the phone off your nightstand, scrolled through your contacts to find his name.

(11:57 PM )

[ you ] hey, we should talk after finals r over

You sent the text, hoping he’d want closure as well, but minutes passed there was no response. Just when you were about to sleep, your phone vibrated.

(12:05 AM)

[ jisung ] okay, see u after finals then. gn

ten

You had just gotten out of your last class of the day when he came into view. Frankly, you hadn’t expected to meet up with him until later on in the day, but that was your own mistake for not specifying when or where to meet in the text. Although this had slightly caught you off guard, you couldn’t put this off forever so you made your way towards him.

It was a relatively cold day; he stood there bundled up in his hoodie and a beanie atop which tamed his hair from the strong winds.

“Hey.” You said as you stood face to face with him.

“Hey, it’s been awhile.” He responded, eyes softening when he saw you.

* * *

Together, you ended up walking back to his place to talk. Nothing much was said during the trip back, besides the occasional polite small talk like “how have you been?” and “how were finals?”

When he opened his door, you entered wearily; although you had visited his place numerous times in the past, the last time you actually came by was months ago so it felt odd to be back to place so familiar, yet foreign again.

You were grateful for the fact that it was so warm in his apartment because the weather outside had left your body feeling numb.

“Here, I know you get cold easily.” Jisung handed you an extra sweater he pulled from his closet and you thanked him before sliding it over your shoulders.

The both of you just stood in his living room, no one knew what to say or how to start the conversation, but you were here now so it was time to say everything you’ve felt. With a deep breath, you began.

“I thought I could let go of my feelings for you, but I couldn’t.” You said, focusing on the floor as you couldn’t look him in the eyes. “And I’m sorry if this makes you feel uncomfortable or jeopardizes whatever is left of our friendship, but I can’t keep lying to myself anymore. If you don’t like me, then I’ll have to accept it and move on but I just had to let you kn-”

Your spiel came to an abrupt stop when he drew you into his arms. Not knowing how to react, you were frozen from confusion and shock.

“Y/n, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?” He held you at arms length and gently titled your chin up so you could meet his gaze. “If I had known you liked me, I would’ve never looked at anyone else.”

His words were forming incoherent sentences in your head. Was this his confession? Did he feel the same way?

He must’ve sensed your puzzlement because he smiled at you and said, “Yes dummy, I like you too.”

Your immediate response was to smile, but then something dawned on you.

“What about your current relationship?”

“I’m no longer in a relationship. We have been broken up for nearly a month now.”

“So what does that mean for us?” You say, almost too optimistically. And his response was to pull you in close, so close to the point where you could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks and your noses were barely touching, before closing the gap between your lips and his.

a/n: honestly, this piece is kind of all over the place since it’s my first one but hopefully more practice will make my writing better! also, this is not proofread so my apologies for any grammatical/punctuation errors.

also here it my masterlist in case you want to read my other works!

#skz au #stray kids au #stray kids masterlist #skz masterlist #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids oneshot #jisung x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #han x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #skz fluff

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

Pretty Venom

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Loki pulls away from you, leaving you hurt and feeling alone. Perhaps an emotional confrontation is just what you need to get him to tell you how he really feels. Warnings: very angsty; maybe a little bit if fluff too, I guess?; bit of implied smut at the end; a curse word I think A/N: Based on one of my favorite songs ever, Pretty Venom by All Time Low. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

You didn’t get it. It made absolutely no sense. For the past twenty-four hours, you’d been running through Loki’s words in your head, your mind like a broken record.

“I believe it best that we have some distance,” he’d said.

“What do you mean?” you asked, voice and body shaking with emotion.

“I mean exactly that. I do not want to see you anymore, so if you will excuse me, I must take my leave.”

You were too shocked to do anything more than shout his name. Even your feet had forgotten how to move. Now you were laying in your bed, staring at your ceiling and trying to figure out what had happened. You were going through denial, even though you’d sensed something had been amiss for a while. At the time, you’d elected to ignore it, a decision you feared you’d end up regretting for the rest of your life. Suddenly, the answer hit you and everything became clear. Loki had been acting weird ever since you’d told Wanda that you like him. He must have overheard and not felt the same way, ending with him pulling away from your friendship.

As a new round of tears began to roll down your cheeks, there was a knock at your door. For a second you dared to hope it was Loki come to make amends, but were slightly disappointed when it was Wanda instead.

“Come on,” your friend said from behind the thick wood. “You can’t hide in there forever. Tell me what happened.”

“I’d rather stay in here, thanks.”

“You sound insane, you know. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work through it together. You at very least should eat something.”

“Thanks again, but I’d rather rot.”

She used her magic to open the door, very concerned for you after your latest declaration. As she came to your side, you began to think back on your time with Loki. Throughout your whole history, he’d never been anything less than absolutely sweet and caring toward you. He’d always told you that from the second he first saw you, he could tell you were kindred spirits. It was from that moment on, he’d confessed, that he wanted to protect you, no matter the cost, and you’d been practically attached at the hip ever since. The momentary warmth that the memory brought you was quickly replaced with a cold feeling of loneliness, realizing that he no longer felt that way. It was sad, you thought, that all your happiest memories should bring you pain.

“Whatever happened, it’s going to be alright. I promise,” Wanda comforted, coming to sit next to you on the bed and give you a hug. Her worry was plainly written on her face. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“It’s Loki,” you finally admitted, sobbing into her shoulder. “He said he doesn’t want to see me anymore, and he didn’t say why. It’s probably because I love him, but he hates me.”

“That’s awful! It’s ok, you don’t need him, anyway. I’m right here, and you know that the rest of us will be, too.”

Even if you were upset with Loki, you didn’t want everyone in the Tower turning against him, and you told Wanda as much. After everything you’d been through with Loki, you knew he’d sunk his teeth into you. You just didn’t realize how much it hurt until he pulled away. Now it seemed you’d been deluding yourself by thinking he cared about you as you did him. You couldn’t even fathom feeling the same way about anyone else, much less anyone besides Loki feeling that way about you.

“I just don’t understand how he could say such a thing. Was he just fucking with me the whole time?” you asked Wanda, though you did not expect her to have the answer. “Was anything he said true?”

“I don’t know, but either way, he played with your heart. You shouldn’t give him another thought.”

A part of you knew that she was right and desperately wanted to pick yourself up from this pit of despair, but it seemed impossible. You spent the next week feeling just as glum as you had that day. Though, you had been able to get out of your bed and Wanda had convinced you to eat. Just as you had asked, she told no one what had happened, but most of them had figured out the story due to your sullen mood and the trickster god’s sudden disappearance from the common areas.

You were aware it was bad to continue living your life in such a sad state as you were in, but you were certain that Loki knew that he hurt you and done nothing to fix it. Your thoughts kept running around in your head, and they always ended at the same spot; how could he do this to you?

Feeling utterly trapped in the Tower, afraid you’d run into Loki around every turn, Wanda took you out for a day out in the city. Little did she know, Thor had done the exact same thing for his brother. Out of all the places either of you could have been, somehow you managed to be at exactly the same street corner. You tried to run away without letting him see you, but his eyes found you before you could fight through the throng of people. As if you were rats trapped in a maze, you ran into each other a number of other times that day. It was ironic that you’d managed to avoid each other for weeks in the Tower, but when you finally went out, you couldn’t stop spotting each other. Seeing your distress, Wanda gave up on your plans and brought you back home.

It hurt you to know that even if you were to go talk to him and try to be his friend again, it would never be quite the same. Maybe it could come close, at least. Anyway, you missed him, felt like you needed him to live. He was like a pretty venom: dangerous, but you couldn’t help but want to get close.

“Loki,” you called through his door later that day. “I just want to talk.”

No response. You’d spent hours in front of your bathroom mirror figuring out all the ways you could say what you wanted to. There was a surprising amount of ways to do it, and you hadn’t quite chosen one. Waiting any longer sounded like agony, though, so you’d marched down the hall to his room.

“Listen, I know why you pushed me away,” you continued when you were met with nothing but silence. “But I also know in my heart that you couldn’t have really wanted to do that. Not after everything you’ve ever said. And honestly, Loki, I just want my best friend back.”

“What reason, exactly, do you think I have pushed you away for?” he asked in a small, pained voice.

He cracked the door open so one of his striking eyes could meet yours. Even through the sliver of space, you could see he was a disheveled mess. A far cry from what he’d looked like out on the city streets earlier, that put together look being the one you were used to.

“Because,” you mumbled, looking at the floor, “you heard me tell Wanda how I feel about you and you don’t feel the same.”

“Is that truly what you think, mortal?” Loki shouted, wrenching the door open the rest of the way. “How foolish I was to think you cared.”

“How dare you!” you screamed back, putting out a hand to stop the door before Loki could slam it shut. You saved the satisfaction of doing that for yourself after following him into his quarters. “You’re the one who didn’t care about me. You’re the one who took back everything you’d ever said. And you’re the one who’s been messing with me from the start.”

This was definitely not how you hoped the conversation would go, but his outburst was pulling all these bottled up emotions out of you. Your heart was the one that had been under constant attack from sadness and loneliness since he’d cast you aside. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might be feeling the same way until he spoke again.

“Do you know how hard it has been to stay away, darling?” he coldly said, his venomous voice now quiet and somehow even more frightening. Even the pet name sounded menacing in his current tone. “Do you know how pained I’ve been keeping away from you? Or how my thoughts have been going in circles since that day? No, I suppose you do not know. Then again, perhaps that is my fault, after all.”

The whole time he was speaking, he approached you, and by now your back was against the wall, his hands pressed against it on either side of your head. Had it been anyone else, you would have felt threatened, but even in his anger you trusted that Loki would never hurt you. Not physically, at least.

“Then why, Loki? Why did you do that to me? To us?” you asked, your voice now soft too. You pressed a hand to the thin material of his shirt, over his heart, which was beating almost as rapidly as yours. “Why?”

“Because,” he said, swallowing thickly, his eyes full of sorrow. “I am dangerous for you. I did hear your conversation, yes, but I did not pull away because I do not reciprocate. It is because I could never be the person you need me to be.”

“But Loki, you already are.”

His arms dropped then, but before he could turn away or say anything else, you pulled him in for a kiss. It didn’t last long as he didn’t kiss you back, and you pulled away in embarrassment, fearing you’d misunderstood what he’d said.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, retreating towards the door. “I shouldn’t have-”

The rest of your sentence was cut off by Loki crashing his lips onto yours. His kiss was filled with just as much passion and desire as yours was. This time it was even better because you weren’t as shocked as he had been, meaning you were able to return it. His hands trailed down your side and came to rest on your waist while yours tangled themselves into his hair, pulling his mouth impossibly closer to yours. You don’t know how long you were standing there like that, mouths sloppily slanted against each other, but it would never be enough. When you did have to pull away for air, his hand gently caressed your cheek, and he kissed your forehead as he gathered his thoughts.

“May I take back what I said again?”

“Only if by that you mean you’re done punishing yourself and are ready to do this again,” you said, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth after a much shorter, but still lustful, kiss.

“I still do not believe I am worthy of you,” he confessed, “and I may never think that I am. But I cannot continue to hurt you this way. So, yes, I want to be with you, if you will still allow it.”

“I suppose I’ll accept that for now. But I swear one day, Loki Laufeyson, I will make you see just how worthy you are.”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

Then he kissed you again, carrying you to his bed where you would spend the rest of the night making good on your promise.

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years

Text

Love Where You Are

Bucky x Black Female OC.

Bucky's got to learn that sometimes people don't want more out of you than you already have. Not perfection, but what's there right now.

Fluff. Just lots of Fluff. Does take place right after The Falcon and the Winter Solider.

Masterlist (multifandom)

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“And if you are alone, that is the quietest most personal hell. And James, that is very hard to escape.”

It rings his ears, long after he leaves the office, long after he returns the notebook, long after the sun has set but sitting here, at the pier feels right. The boats rock gently with the waves and the metal anchors tap against the metal husks. It reminds him of New Orleans, of hearing the giggles and fake punches being thrown. The community that always banded together no matter what.

Bucky did really think he was alone. Just a guy, with a friend of a friend. Well, maybe he wasn’t really a guy anymore. Not in the sense that guys were young, making mistakes--that was a guy. Or at least the way he saw it back before. Back when Steve was still the kid stuffing his shoes with newspaper, and lying on enlistment forms. Back when Bucky was playing the courts for the both of them and nights out were spent drinking just as much as they were spent getting into tussles to save Steve’s ass.

A more fair assessment would be that Bucky was maybe a guy. He had made his mistakes while trying to fix them. But he sure as hell wasn’t getting younger. But he was a guy that’s definitely trying to move on. Trying to figure out what it means to be a guy now at this moment--even though the nightmares still linger.

Sam would probably tell Bucky that the nightmares are common. He’d maybe even say it’s a good thing. They show Bucky he’s still human. And maybe that’s what Bucky’s still struggling with--how to be human more than anything else. What does it mean to have friends again? What does it mean to get a chance of life that he gets some control in? No more fighting other people’s wars. Well, for right now at least.

“A fish out of water, I see.”

Bucky turns to the voice. “Who sent you this time?”

Patricia smiles before sitting next to Bucky. “You’re forgetting I’m the one who showed you this place. So the real question is why are you jocking my happy place?”

Bucky laughs. “I am not stealing your happy place, I swear.”

“Yeah, sure could’ve fooled me.”

“It is a pretty nice place to come to, just let go of everything,” Bucky whispers, staring back out at the horizon. The sun’s just starting to duck behind the horizon casting just enough of an orange glow onto the water. Patricia hums, turning her attention back to the water in front of them as well. And for a moment, it’s silent between them. Minus the slight buzz of the water beneath them of course and the traffic on the pier.

Bucky glances over his shoulder to Patricia. The moles are all still there, scattered across her face. She still looks the same, like she did when they met in Wakanda. Patricia’s not Wakandian at all. However, when Shuri started to oversee the Science center back in Oakland, she reached out to see if she could find some people locally to help her run it. Patricia happened to be one the very few people to make the list. And occasionally, she came to Wakanda to have meetings with Shuri when Shuri couldn’t leave, or didn’t want to. Though her visits were brief, Patricia never seemed to be shocked by Bucky’s presence, and a couple of times when he happened to be in the area of the castle, went out of her way to talk to him. And in those moments, though Bucky never had much to say then, Patricia would tell him about what was happening in the world, or share personal stories.

He’s not sure what made her trust him and he’s not sure why he trusted her either. Maybe it’s because at the time, she didn’t seem bothered by him. It’s like she just saw a man, some body, and not a machine. Bucky hadn’t told her, not initially who he was, or what he had done not initially. But then Patricia asked why he was in Wakana too. That question made him freeze, unsure of how to answer. And rather than answering it directly, he dodged around it and gave what he thought was a vague response. And in the sunset there, Patricia didn’t seem bothered by the answer. Instead she pushed forward, steering the conversation to something else.

“Shouldn’t you be on the other side of the country?” Bucky asks, suddenly realizing that he’s not even close to the West Coast.

“Vacation. Boss mandated vacation, but vacation nonetheless.”

“Visiting home then?”

“Yeah. Checking in on my mom and dad. They’re going on a cruise in a couple of days for their anniversary. And I try to see them before their yearly vacation too. The last I heard you were rag tagging it with Sam though. And I definitely didn’t think you’d say in New York, not after what happened.”

“You--how long have you been in town?”

“Long enough to hear and see that the life of being a superhero is never easy.”

Bucky never considered himself a superhero. Not after what he’s done. “Oh, no, I’m not. Just--” What was he doing? Trying to recklessly hold onto a person, to an idea of who he was in someone else’s perspective?

“Just Bucky?” Patricia suggests. Gently, she reaches out to take his left hand.

Bucky tenses for a second and then has to make sure to relax so he doesn’t hurt her. He goes to speak and the air leaves him for just a moment when she threads his fingers through his. With a deep breath he finds the sentence again, “You make that sound so complete. Because I-I don’t even know who Bucky is even more.”

“I think you have more of a clue than you let on.”

“Perhaps subconsciously, there is more than I know consciously.” Bucky almost wants to flex his fingers, try to figure out the right way to carry her hand and how much pressure to give. He glances down, the black metal of his arm accented with gold pairs nicely with the deep red brown of her skin. But it still feels foreign, like the first time he wore a shirt again with his new arm and he was worried the threads would get snagged in the divots.

“How long are you in town for?” Patricia asks.

“Oh, I live here in Brooklyn.”

“You never told me you were from Brooklyn.”

“Born and raised. I just recently moved back here. In Wakanda, when you told me about the pier, how you liked coming just to clear your head, I liked to hear how you saw it. Besides, it had been quite a few years since I had been back to see it. So, it was nice.”

“I mean it hadn’t changed all that much in a few years,” Patricia comments off handedly.

“Well, maybe it was, uh, a little bit more than just a few years.”

“Like several decades more.”

“Who told you?”

“I may just be the assistant director at the center, but I am let in on a lot of secrets that have a very real chance to impact us. Someone might think we have access to certain materials,” she taps his metal arm with the phrase, “or if we have information that may help them and we have to be prepared for that.”

“So that means you know about everything.”

“Only need to know. And your unique relation was classified as a need to know for me.”

With a sigh, Bucky shakes his head. “That makes this incredibly easier and ten time more awkward.”

“If it helps at all, James, clearly I haven’t run for the hills.”

“Please, call me Bucky. The only time I’m used to hearing James is when I’m in trouble or from my therapist when she was fed up with me. And as much as my mother would absolutely like to have a talk with me from the great beyond, I think I’m going to hold out on having to hear that lecture for as long as I can.”

“I don’t think she has that long of a lecture.”

It’s with a slight lump in his throat that Bucky realizes he hadn’t thought about his mother is so long. What would she think of him? What would she think of what he had done? He blinks back the tears and clears his throat. But the tears come back, the lump reforms. “Oh, God, I-my mom,” he whispers. She’d been gone for a while; that fact wasn’t new. But what was fact was that he didn’t want to disappoint her. Even though she was gone, it didn’t mean that Bucky was trying to make it hard for her to watch over him.

Patricia takes the hand holding his hand and gingerly rubs across his shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright.”

It takes a moment and a pinch at the bridge of his nose between his eyes to keep the water works at a minimum. “Thanks. I’m okay.”

“I think this calls for ice cream. My treat. What do you think?”

“Oh-I don’t know.”

“C’mon. It’s a couple scopes. It’ll make you feel better.” Patricia stands, holding out her hand, fingers motioning for him to stand.

It’s here, in the in between, between standing and sitting, between giving into the ice cream and standing firm on his denial that he wonders, why would someone like Patricia be nice to him. As far as he knew, she didn’t know about war, or constantly fighting or always looking over your shoulder. And maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe she knew more about it than Bucky was giving her credit for as a Black woman in America. Much like he hadn’t known the similar things about Sam and the shield. But why would she want to give someone like him a chance? Shouldn’t she be more afraid?

“What’s this all about?” Bucky asks, standing but not taking her hand.

“Ice cream to help soothe mental wounds.”

They stand face to face. He towers over her by a few inches. But it’s enough where she looks up at him ever so slightly. “No, if you know about me, why do any of this? Even back at Wakanda.”

There’s a pause from Patricia. She turns on her heel and he follows. Though he’s not sure he should be. They get a couple steps from the bench before Patricia exhales heavily. Perhaps, it was not the smartest move to admit this clearly after an emotional moment. But her nerve would leave her as it always did if she didn’t strike now. “On the one hand, Bucky, it’s this little thing called flirting.”

“Flirt-flirting?”

The wide eyes and dropped jaw make her laugh. “Yeah, flirting.”

“I am a little over a century old. But that-that is not flirting.”

“I am not great at it, but I was attempting,” Patricia returns, with a bit of annoyance creasing her brow.

“Oh, doll.”

“Aht, no, you do not get to ‘Doll’ me. I am not a doll. No, do I look like a doll?”

Bucky smirks. It’s all too easy; it would be all too easy. He won’t do it. Not now at least. “I apologize. But I’m just saying being nice to someone isn’t necessarily flirting.”

“Wakanda was different. I was trying to get to know you and I knew things were complicated for you. So I kept it to being nice. And then I knew I’d be Stateside most of the time. However, when I got the call from the Dora and Shuri that you were moving to the U.S, I thought maybe I could get a chance. But then the expo was coming up and I was essentially working as director and counselor to keep the center open late to let kids work and things just never worked. But then I saw you, here, at the pier and I thought it might be my chance. Sue me.”

Bucky nods as she speaks, keeping stride as they weave through the crowd. “So inviting me out for ice cream was the move?”

“It was like move two. Get you to go with me for ice cream so then I could ask you for dinner.”

“I don’t think you need to worry or waste time with me.” If Bucky could stop it, he would. If the little voice in the back of his head didn’t get so loud sometimes, he wouldn’t even have to deal with Patricia’s full halt and tugging him off to the side. If Bucky could keep the doubt down, his comment wouldn’t fall from his lips. But unfortunately, what he wants and what he does isn’t always on the same page.

“Repeat that for me,” Patricia demands.

It’s the way she says it, like he can try to repeat it but he’s sure it wasn’t lack of hearing that she’s asking. “I just mean--I’m still not like a hundred percent...together. And it’s not a process I can hope to do in seconds or one that I can promise won’t be ugly. So I don’t know--”

“Sometimes, Bucky, people want to love you where you are. No one’s perfect. Not even us non-superbeings. I’m not asking for the perfect you. I’m asking to go on some dates with whatever version of you is here, right now. I want to disasterly cook a meal and then order pizza. I’m asking you to give me whatever you have now. ”

And if you’re alone, that is the quietest most personal hell. But Bucky still doesn’t want to drag her into this world, this mess he was in. But here Patricia is, asking for whatever he has, whether it’s perfect or put together or not. And there have only been a few times in his life that people wanted whatever he had. It’s that soldier, the barking commands from his training officers that can make it hard. They always wanted more, they wanted perfection in some ways. They wanted obedience more than anything, but Patricia’s not asking for any of that.

“No-no one’s just wanted the mess I am. I thought I lost the last person that wanted that from me.”

“Well, if you let me in and say yes to ice cream and a dinner date, where I do not cook initially, then you’ll have gained another person that wants you for whatever mess you are.”

“By mess, I mean mess. Like I sleep on the floor of my own apartment. I just want you to be aware of where the bar is.”

Patricia smiles, a small tuft of laughter escaping her. “Consider my expectations set.”

“Then I would be honored to get ice cream and eventually go to dinner with you.”

Her grin widens, heats heating at the bit of a twinkle settling into his gaze. She’s thankful her blush is not visible at all. “You’re going to have to stop looking at me like that. Because a look like that is dangerous.”

“Looking at you like what?”

She circles his face with her pointer finger, “Like that, like you’re plotting something devious.”

Bucky laughs, holding his hands up in defense of himself. “You’re the one planning. Not me.”

“It’s a Mr. Suave look. I know it when I see it.” She starts back down the pier and Bucky’s quick to catch up, right hand slipping into hers. “See, now you’re plotting something for sure! But I’m not that mad at it.”

Gingerly, he gives her hand a squeeze. “Good. And thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #h writes #marvel #marvel fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x black oc #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfic

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picassho-18 · 4 years

Text

Art of Fire (III)

Zuko x Reader; Part 3; 1.4k words

Series summary: The recently crowned Fire Lord Zuko meets a new friend of his Uncle’s, a special fire bender that quickly grabs his interest over a cup of tea and the discussion of the arts.

ALL CURRENTLY POSTED PARTS: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

It was the next morning, early enough that the sun was still rising, the buildings casted in a partial light. You were busy in the back of your shop, starting to work on other commissions for your little business before heading to the Royal Palace. You didn’t want to acknowledge it but you were beyond excited to see Zuko again. Even if he was probably the most awkward person to be Lord of the Fire Nation.

Your mind was completely focused on the current piece you were working on. It was a highly detailed koi fish, so you sat at your easel, a blue-tipped orange flame emitting from your pointer finger as you shaded the scales. Lost in concentration, with your face scrunched up staring closely at the wood panel, you didn’t hear or see the figure walking into the shop.

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat loudly that you looked up, the flame quickly dispersing from your fingertip.

It was Zuko, standing at the entry of your shop. A sheepish smile shown on his face, as you quickly took in his attire. The Fire Lord was wearing commoner clothes, with a large brimmed hat partially covering his face. If you hadn't met Zuko before in his armour and royal gear, you would not have noticed anything off about him. Even though he always looked so confident in his royal amour, with purpose and poise, he appeared to be almost carefree, relaxed in these kinds of clothes. Although, he was acting mighty awkwardly, just standing at the entrance of your shop.

After clearing his throat, he gave you a small wave, “Hello, Y/N.”

“Uhh, hi!” you smiled, unsure of his presence and of what you should do.

He continued, walking a little further into the shop, “Well um, sorry to interrupt your artwork, but today my Uncle gave me a little gift. He, uh, gave me the day off so he’s standing in as Fire Lord today. The role has been really weighing on me and I am pretty young for all the work and knowledge it requires, and…”

Zuko trailed off, realizing he was rambling. He had been looking everywhere around the shop besides at you, so when he finally made eye-contact, you gave him an encouraging smile.

He grinned slightly, looking down at his feet, “So yeah, I don’t really get these kinds of days, and was hoping, that uh, you would like to spend it with me?”

After he finally asked his question he stared at you, worry sparkling in his eyes, wondering what your response would be. It took a second for you to digest the question; You were simply surprised he would ask you of all people to join him.

Not before long, a huge smile, ear to ear, flashed on your face, immediately putting Zuko at ease. “I would love to!” You got up, putting all your materials away in a rush, before turning to him again, giggling, “By the way, I love the little disguise you have going on.”

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah, uh, I like to get out of my uniform whenever I’m not doing anything official.”

“Of course, so what kinds of clothes should I be wearing? Is this okay?” Without thinking, you twirled around, showing your attire, a pair of black leather pants, boots, and a work shirt. You didn’t see him blushing even more when you had turned around.

“Uh, yeah! That would be fine.”

Alright, you bounded over to the Fire Lord, though with how he was acting and his attire, you sort of forgot, and began to lose the rigidity you would usually have around authority and royals, especially the rigid awkwardness you’ve had around him before.

“Where are we off to?” you asked cheerfully, looking up at Zuko.

He grinned down at you, almost cheekily, “I have a place in mind. It’s not too far, we can walk.”

As you began to walk through the streets, an easy conversation struck up between you two. Zuko had explained that he had seen his Uncle that morning, as he was opening up his shop, to find where your own was.

You had chuckled at that, thinking of that cocky grin Iroh had worn when he found out you liked his nephew. “Your Uncle seems to be a very unique man.”

“He is, indeed.” Zuko has nodded in agreement, “He is the wisest person I know. He’s saved me multiple times throughout my life, whether it was from myself or others, he has always been supportive and there for me.”

You hummed, thinking back to the stories that Iroh had told you before you knew that Zuko was the nephew he had been talking about.

“He is extremely proud of you.”

Zuko cocked his head at your statement, before you continued, “Before I knew that you were his nephew, he told me stories of you. Whenever he talks of you, the biggest smile graces his face, always talking about how much you’ve overcome and proud he is of you. It’s obvious he loves you as if you were his own son. It is quite lovely to see, honestly.”

At your words, Zuko choked up, his eyes watering ever so slightly. Alarmed, you looked at him, before stopping him from walking forward, and putting a calming hand on his shoulder.

Quietly, you whispered leaning closer to him, “Are you okay? I’m sorry if I said something.”

He shook his head, looked down at the ground shamefully, “I’ve just done many bad things to my Uncle and it shocks me every time to hear things like that. That he has forgiven me completely for my past.”

You knew of the Fire Lord’s past. Anyone in the Fire Nation knew the stories of the banished prince and his hunt for the Avatar. His betrayals and anger. Yet before you now, all you saw was a man trying to become better. For his family and for his Nation. Who was already better yet trying to improve even more.

A single tear fell down from his scarred eye, and before he could whip it away without you seeing, you reached forward and cupped his face, rubbing the tear away with your thumb, your hand resting on his scarred face soothingly. He turned to you, eyes widening in shock at your actions. And honestly, you were shocked that you had done it yourself.

With your voice still soft and low, you reassured him, “Your Uncle really is proud of you. And so am I. You deserved to rule this Nation. And I’m not saying that because it’s your birthright, but because you have overcome many things to become a man that would make this Nation proud.”

He smiled weakly at you, before he nodded his head, as if trying to convince himself of those words. Your hand fell to your side, immediately losing the warmth that you hadn’t even realized was radiating off of his skin.

With his face still close to yours, he whispered “Thank you.”

Yet when you still heard his voice hurting so bad, you made a second rash decision. Quickly, you pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping your arms around his neck, his hat knocked off in the process. He stiffened at your touch, but soon, his arms lifted and wrapped around your lower back.

He was practically clinging to you, forgoing any personal space as he tucked his face into the side of your neck. Zuko tried to keep his emotions in check, but his breathing deepened, trying to hold back more tears as your one of your hands began to rub the back of his head soothingly, your fingers winding through his long, messy hair.

His voice shuddered again, as he whispered another “Thank you” into your skin. All you could do was nod as your heart began to break even more for the anguished man in front of you.

After his breathing settled, and he regained composure, Zuko pulled away, clearing his throat. You smiled reassuringly at him, pulling away as well.

Trying to lift his mood you asked, you grabbed his hat and handed it to him, flashing to biggest smile possible, trying to channel your cheerfulness into him, “So where is this place you’re taking me?”

The sadness in his eyes slowly seeped away, a calmness overtaking them. The idea of his one free day quickly overshadowing the past. Zuko grinned at you, beginning to walk again with you following, “It’s a surprise. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

***

Part 4 has been requested!

Tag List:

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#zuko x reader #prince zuko #fire lord zuko #art of fire #part 3 #series #fluff #angst #avatar #the last airbender #firebender!reader #reader insert #zuko fic

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tatertotthethot · 4 years

Text

The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

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Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

921 notes · View notes

spideymarvelws · 3 years

Text

Hard Decisions

Prince!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglist

A/n : I just really wanted to write a prince!tom fic also i struggled so much trying to figure out a title and summary but im pretty happy with the actual fic Still dont like the tittle tho...

Summary : You take tom out for an escape from his life in royalty, at least that was the plan.

Warnings : Floof, kinda smutty but not really, mentions of violence, war, some cursing here and there

Word Count : 2.8k

...

"That wasn't fair in the slightest and you know it!" Tom shouted as he halted his horse, licking his lips with annoyance.

He was in the middle of his book that his master had assigned him when you burst into his chambers, breathing heavily like his dog after he took her out into the fields. You were dressed in your riding gear, throwing his own smack in his face, the only words falling from your mouth were.

“You, me, stables, now,”

It wasn't totally out of character for you to be so spontaneous, he was used to it by now, so were his guards and everyone in the castle. So much so that they weren’t fazed anymore when you zipped past them in the halls never knowing if you were running to or from something.

None of them were curious enough to ask.

Nevertheless, he was always free for a nice ride through the forests with you. He always enjoyed tagging along and partaking in your little shenanigans around the kingdom. It was a nice break from his responsibilities as prince.

"What isn't fair is that your horse had to deal with your terrible riding," you picked at your nails, smirking at the young prince, "Better than last time thought, only five minutes behind,"

Even if you always beat him.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," He muttered, jumping off his horse, his boots landing with a thud on the floor, "What are we even doing here in the first place?"

"You'll see," you smiled leaning off the tree trunk, "I put Galaxy over there," you pointed towards the brown horse shaking its head, most of its body hidden behind the thick shrubbery, "I'm sure she wouldn't mind some company,"

"Don't know, I feel like he would feel inferior to yours," Tom said, pointing to his horse.

"Don't worry, that logic only applies to you when you’re with me," you chuckled. It was known that you loved teasing him, it shocked him to this day that he still put up with your shit for the past years, putting in so much effort to see you at least once a week.

But you were the only person who kept him up float for the past years. The only person who treated him as an equal despite his blood and title. And he would be a fool if he let that go anytime soon.

Of course you couldn't know that, he could imagine how much embarrassment that would fill his body if you knew about his attraction towards you. He could already picture you brushing his words off as a silly joke and continuing with your day.

He didn't think he could deal with the rejection, to deal with losing you over some feelings.

"So, where are we going?" he said, dusting off his vest, "Or did you just bring me out here to murder me?"

"Trust me if i wanted to murder you, I would've done it a long time ago," you grinned, holding out your hand, “Now come on! The sun won’t be up for too long,”

You dragged him up though the bushes and trees, maneuvering your way through the forest. He’d never seen you this bubbly before, running and jumping over roots and ducking swiftly under branches all while occasionally looking back at him with a wide smile that made his heart melt.

“Are we there yet?” he whined, yelping when a branch hit him smack in the face.

“Oh shit,” your hand shot up to your mouth, trying to hide the laughter threatening to erupt from your throat, “Are you alright?”

“Oh yeah, totally,” he said sarcastically, rubbing his nose, trying his best not to sneeze, “like one always is when they get smacked with leaves and wood,”

You bit your lip, moving the branch back up so you could see him clearly, “If it makes you feel better, we’re almost there,”

He sighed, his head falling before picking it back up to look into your eyes, “Alright,” he chuckled when you continued to tug him along.

After a few more seconds of walking, he noticed the sound of water falling in the near distance making him a quirk up a brow. Soon enough you both emerged from the dense forest into a small opening.

His eyes trailed up the small pond, the ripples of the water reflecting the random rays of light passing through the trees hovering ever it like its own roof As he moved up, he eyed the flow of water running down a layering of rocks like a small fountain. Around it was a mass of shrubbery, green with hints of colour throughout. It felt like he was stepping into a painting his mother painted for him when he was younger.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes taking in every part of the scenery.

“I know, found it when I was sear- playing with Harrison’s sword,”

“You lost his sword?” Tom teased, catching your mess up.

“I found it back, calm your tits,” you uttered, mumbling under your breath, “after having some fun with it,”

“What was that?”

“It was a nice sword alright?”, you laughed, pulling your hand out of his.

He watched with curious eyes as you approached the lake, stopping as you reached the edge. He felt the instant head rise to his face when your fingers grazed the bottom of your loose skirt, pulling it off your body in one go and throwing it to the side.

He coughed as he looked away when your boots came off next along with the rest of your undergarments leaving you in your underwear and bra. He tried his best to keep his eyes turned down out of respect, but he would be a liar if he wasn't fighting not to raise his head.

“Are you coming?” you said, dipping your toes into the water before fully submerging your both your feet, “Or are you just going to stand there,”

“I-” Tom blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

You turned around to face him, hands crossing in front of your chest, staring at him expectedly, “Come on now, before your father figures out your gone,”

“I’m pretty sure he already knows-”

“Then you have no excuse!” you tilted your head to the side, jutting your bottom lip out, “I didn’t bring you out here to just stare at me as I bath,” you raised your eyebrow suggestively, “Unless that’s what you want to do?”

“I-,” he paused, looking back down at the ground in defeat (and to hide his blush at your words). He could never say no to you, “Fine,”

You jumped into the water in glee, shaking your hair purposely for the droplets to fall on his clothes.

He rolled his eyes playfully at your smug smile, unbuttoning his vest and throwing it on a patch of grass. He did the same with his shirt, turning around when he began to shuffle out of his pants. Tom wouldn't deny the fact that he knew his looks, years of fighting and working gave his body a defined shape.

He could feel your eyes burning into his back which gave him the boost of confidence he needed to turn around.

He carefully made his way into the water, hissing at its cold touch. You rolled your eyes at his slow movements, grabbing his legs and pulling him inside. You laughed as his body hit the water, splashing you and the land around the pool.

You giggled as Tom raised his head, shaking it back and forth, his brown locks creating a halo around his head. You pushed more water at his figure, laughing even harder at the look of betrayal on his face.

“You-,” he chuckled, moving his arms in the same manner, sending a wave of water in your direction.

“Oh, Is this war Holland?”

“You bet your ass Y/l/n,”

You lunged at the brunette, pushing him under the water, your arms wrapping around his neck to keep him down. But it didn't last for long when he quickly broke the surface of the water once more. You wrapped your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him down, but it was useless given his strength.

When you looked back into his eyes, you finally took in how close you were, faces merely centimetres away from each other. You could feel his hot breath against yours, your wet skin melding with his. Your chest tightened, emotions you tried so hard to keep hidden resurfacing without thought. A glimmer of hope popping in your mind when he didn't pull away instead resting his hands on your waist, keeping you close.

You just didn’t think a prince would reciprocate the feelings for a commoner girl like you.

“Hey,” you whispered, readjusting your arms around his neck.

“Hey,” he whispered back, his eyes darting from your lips back to your eyes.

“i-,” your forehead fell against his, eyes closed as your heavy breaths fell upon his face, “Tommy,”

“Just say the word,” he gulped, “Just say the word, and none of this happened,”

He held his breath when you didn’t respond, his hands loosening from around your waist. He relished in the feeling of your body pressed against his not knowing when it might be the next time you would ever be like this with him after today.

He was a fool to think that you actually liked him in that way, that this wasn't just the spur of the moment but feelings aching to be unraveled at the seams.

“I want this to happen,” you finally muttered, opening your eyes to look directly at him, “I’m just scared what will happen after,”

Tom let out a shaky breath, looking back and forth between your left and right eye, trying to process your words, “Only one way to find out right?” he managed to say, licking his lips.

You bit the middle of your bottom lip, letting it go with a heavy breath, “Yeah I guess so,”

“Are you sure?” He couldn't help but ask again.

“Just shut up and kiss me for God's sake,”

Tom finally smashed his lips on yours, tasting the fresh water on the surface before moving them along with yours. You tilted your head slightly, deepening the kiss. Even after imagining this moment for so long, losing himself in the thought almost everyday, it could’ve never prepared him for the feeling of your mouth on his.

His hands tightened around your waist, his feet moving slowly along the floor to press you against the nearest rock, wanting to be as close to you as possible, for this to last as long as possible. You fingers moved from his neck to his hair, tugging at the soaked strands making him groan into the kiss.

“Tommy,” you muttered, barely pulling away to utter the words before latching your lips back on his.

“Yeah,” he smiled, biting your bottom lip as he pulled away fully.

“I-,” you started but was quickly interrupted by a loud bell that began to ring in your ears.

“Fuck, what’s that?” You breathed, whipping your head in the direction of the bell.

Tom replied hesitantly, “Someones attacking the castle,”

“What?” you said in disbelief, detangling your legs from around the prince’s waist, “Who would want to attack the castle?”

“I don’t know,” Tom said with a clenched jaw, despite his attempts to sound calm, the alarmed edge to his words failed to slow your rapid beating heart.

“You don’t know? You’re the prince!”

“Yes! As far as I’m aware we’ve been at peace with everyone for hundreds of years!”

You took a moment to process his words. Your parents always used to tell you stories of the great war, always bragging that your great grandfather fought the battle that helped peace run through the lands.

The war that ended all wars.

Songs were sung everywhere, children learned about it all the time, hearing the tale of tragedy and loss every day of their loved ones. Hell, even you had the words memorised in your head so that you knew, the people knew that they were safe, that they were free.

The bell high in the castle was only meant to be rung when the crown was under attack. Thousands of questions began to run through your head.

Who would attack?

Why would they right before dawn?

How was anyone not aware of it earlier on?

None of it made sense.

“Come one, we got to go,” Tom gripped both your forearms, letting out a heavy breath. His voice was nothing but a distant sound in the back of your head, bouncing off the walls of your skull.

“I-,” you managed to squeak, your throat starting to close up as your breath became shorter, coming out in little, shaky huffs with deep inhales.

“Y/n, Y/n? Y/n!” tom said hastily, his hands making its way to your face, directing your eyes to his, “Look at me alright? You’re going to be fine. We are going to be fine alright?” his fingers wiped the wet hair sticking to the front of your face, “When we get back to our horses, yeah? I want you to ride far away okay. Do you remember our tree house, right? At the edge of the forest leading into the meadow? I want you to go there alright? Take galaxy with you and hide out there until i come for you,”

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut before looking back into his panicked ones, “Wait, What? Tommy, I’m not letting you go in there by yourself!”

“AND I’M NOT LETTING YOU DIE!” he shouted, trying his best to control his breathing, his distress, his confusion, “I’m not about to lead you into a battle that i know nothing off unarmed!”

“What about you?” you whispered, but loud enough for him to hear, “Do you think I’m okay with you running into battle?”

“I’m the prince, it’s-,” he sighed, “It’s my duty,”

You looked up into his brown eyes, staring into them to find some sort of comfort. You tried to find the joke, something, anything that might tell you that this wasn’t real, all just some sick prank to get you back at disrupting his activities.

But as his pupils dashed back and forth between yours, unable to focus. You knew that you couldn't talk your way out of this one.

You also knew that you would be of no help in the kingdom in battle but ideas began to pop in your head of how you could help outside the walls

“Alright,” you gulped, “Alright,”

He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before jumping out of the water. He tossed you his vest as you got out behind him so you could dry your body first. Shuffling around to gather the clothes that were thrown haphazardly in the ground.

Once both of you were fully dressed, Tom grabbed your hand as he led you back to your horse. You ran quickly, trying your best to not let the thoughts consume you but focus on what you needed to do, what you had to do.

Letting go of your hand as you both reached the clearing, he ran to his horse, untying his restraints. You did the same, petting her main in a calming matter, not only for the horse but for you too.

You both froze at the faint sound of a sword slashing some shrubbery followed by some muffled voices.

“Get on your horse,”

“Tom-,”

“Get on your horse now Y/n,”

You quickly mounted Galaxy, grabbing the reins tightly as Tom pulled out a sword from around his waist, keeping it close to his side.

“When I tell you to go, you go okay?” he said wearily, his head darting in every direction.

“Tommy,” you said quietly, grabbing his face in the palms of your hand when her turned around to face you. You pressed your lips on his one last time, pulling away to rest your forehead against his, this time without the water surrounding you both.

“Stay safe, okay?” you whispered, rubbing your thumb against his cheek.

“I’ll try my best,” he smiled, taking your hand in his, “For you,”

“Over here!” a gruff voice sounded, “I see a horse!”

“Go, Y/n, Now,” Tom said quickly, moving back to his original stance.

With a split second of hesitation, you pulled at your reigns, kicking the horsed side, riding Galaxy away from the kingdom. You cringed at the distant sound of swords clashing and men screaming. What scared you the most was that you didn’t know who they came from.

But you couldn't focus on that right now, you had to find the tree house and from there, figure out what the fuck you were going to do, to help the kingdom.

To help him.

...

Permanent TagList : @jadegill @joyleenl @sarcastic-sunset-7

Tom Holland Taglist : @dummiesshort @seutarose @thenoddingbunny-blog

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #royal!au #royal!tom #prince!tom #prince!tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

Hey I had an fun idea for a request

A Terminator lost boys crossover.

After the events of T2 John and Sarah end up in Santa Carla. John meets Sam and the frog brothers (maybe at the comic shop) and swap stories.

I love this request so much, so I hope I've done it justice!

You'd Be Surprised.

The Lost Boys x Terminator: Judgement Day crossover

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

"What is this place?" John's face is pulled into a tired frown as he looks around the bustling area around them, sniffing at the sickly scent of candy and sweat skeptically.

"The Boardwalk, I think." Sarah replies, body tense as they move further into the crowd, one hand on John's back.

"The Boardwalk?" The youth questions, flicking hair from his face, "Looks interesting, I guess."

As he says this, he has to stifle a yawn behind his hand, once again wishing they hadn't spent all night driving to get to this little coastal town - after everything that happened, John has gotten very little sleep, thanks to the sheer amount of moving around. Nearly everyday is spent driving around, or it was, until Sarah found out about this place, a small town called Santa Carla, which is small enough to be relaxing, but also big enough that it acts as a distraction from everything that happened with the terminators of before. Sarah had been adamant to get here, and it had meant that they hadn't stopped to sleep the previous night, leaving them both dog-tired.

"Looks like it's popular." Sarah muses, steering them through the crowd, unsure of what they're doing here - she had thought it would be a good idea to get out and explore, but now that they're here, she's just this side of uncomfortable.

"Yeah." John murmurs, turning to look across the way at a bunch of stores, his head cocked to the side, "Hey, is that a comic store?"

Sarah glances over, finding what he's looking at.

"Looks like it." She replies, knowing what's coming next.

"Can I go look? I won't go far."

"Yeah, go ahead. Just be careful, ok?" She sighs, watching as he thanks her and moves off towards said store.

Glad to have found something familiar, John heads quickly to the shop, unable to help the small smile that creeps into place as he approaches the comfort of the comic books he knows and loves. As he reaches them, he runs a finger over the rim of the shelf, slowing his stride to pore over the glossy covers, marvelling at the vivid colours and stark linework, idly reading the flashy names and slogans. Comic books have always been his escape from the reality of his world, especially back when his mom had been taken out of the equation (however brief that now seems), finding that he could easily lose himself in the smooth textured pages and their detailed stories. At his foster parents' house, he'd had an extensive collection.

"Wonder what happened to 'em." He murmurs quietly to himself, still somewhat guilty about the deaths of his two temporary carers, knowing it was his fault they ended up how they did.

"Hey man, we don't want no loons in here." A gruff, boyish voice behind him startles him, the sound unexpected as he spins on his heel to face the newcomer.

He comes face-to-face with a kid around his age, possibly a year older, the stern yet curious look on his face giving him a somewhat older appearance. The boy wears clothes not too dissimilar to military fatigues, though they're paired with the usual civilian-wear most people tend to have, as if he's trying to seem tougher, the red bandana wound around his head seeming to emphasise this. John has to bite back a sharp snort as his brain makes the connection it had tried originally to form: the kid looks like he's trying to be Rambo.

As he watches, another boy joins him, his one wearing similar clothes, with a pair of dog tags hung round his neck.

"Don't worry, I ain't no loon." John replies, standing a little tensly, unsure of how to react.

"If you say so, comrade." The second boy intones, frowning as he looks over John's slightly dishevelled appearance.

When they don't immediately leave, John lifts an eyebrow.

"Can I help you?"

"Just checking you out." The first one informs him, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh yeah? You the kid cops or something?" John scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"Laugh at us now, but we're the reason you're safe." The same boy practically snaps at him, scowling.

"Sure, buddy." John shakes his head.

"You scared of monsters, man?" The second questions, exchanging a knowing look with his companion.

John only snorts: he's learned it's not the monsters you have to fear, it's technology.

"You should be. Gotta watch out around here." It's almost a threat, the tone of voice in this boy sounding dead serious.

The three boys stare at each other for a long while, brows drawn tight as they face off, bodies tense.

After a moment, a cheerful voice interrupts them.

"Edgar, Alan! What're you doing?" A blonde youth in vibrant clothing comes into view, grinning as he claps the other two boys on the back, "Who's this?"

"Nobody." John replies, smiling tightly as he goes to move away.

"Hey, wait a minute!" The newcomer calls after him, "Were these two giving you a hard time?"

"You could say that."

The two boys go to protest, but the newcomer just shushes them.

"I'm sorry, they're a bit tense. It's been a rough couple of months." The blonde apologises, smiling brightly, "I'm Sam."

He offers John his hand, blue eyes friendly as he looks him over.

"John." He takes the hand, smiling at him a little, "It's been a rough couple of months for me, too."

One of the boys snorts, the Rambo look alike this time.

"I think we have you beat." The dark haired one comments.

"I think you might be surprised." John retorts sharply.

"Think so? Tell us and we'll decide." Wannabe Rambo instructs, placing his hands on his hips.

"Edgar, calm it, yeah?" Sam sighs, rolling his eyes.

"No, it's fine. I'll tell you, but you won't believe any of it." John shrugs - what has he got to lose?

"You might be surprised." Sam mimics him from earlier, grinning cordially.

Shooting him a swift smirk, John launches into his story, giving them all the relevant information, watching as their faces go from impassive and sceptical, to shocked, to enraptured. The three of them listen attentively, clearly enjoying the story, not quite believing parts, until John shows them the scars and marks he obtained, which are too deliberate to be accidental. As he comes to a finish, he waits for the others to react.

"Shit." Is all Sam can manage, eyes wide, somewhat pale after hearing all that.

"Yeah." John swallows, wetting his mouth again as he waits for Edgar and Alan to respond.

They exchange a glance, clearly not having expected that at all, unsure now of how to respond.

"That's some real shit, man." Edgar eventually says, his expression softening slightly.

"Yeah, sorry about your friend." Alan adds, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's fine." John acknowledges them, trying not to wince at the memory of his brief father figure, the terminator still rife in his mind.

"Maybe we should tell you our story." Sam muses, pulling at his shirt.

"Go for it."

And so he listens to them trawl through their tale, listening intently as they describe the four bikers of the Boardwalk, who they had found out were the ones responsible for the hundreds of missing people in Santa Carla. It sounded unreal: vampires in a small coastal town? Sounds like a child's story, but he supposes it's not too dissimilar to his own in that sense; no one will believe him if he tells his story. As they go on, he finds himself enjoying their company, the wilder antics of Edgar and Alan balanced out by Sam, who seems to have a joking nature and a natural friendliness that rubs off on John. Eventually, they finish.

"Jeez, and I thought I had it bad." John laughs, running a hand through his hair.

"We all did." Sam chuckles, leaning against a nearby shelf.

"Guess we have more in common than we thought." Alan remarks, smiling for the first time.

"Yeah." John nods, grinning.

"John!" He turns to face the entrance to the store, where he sees Sarah standing, waiting for him, "Time to go."

Groaning, he pulls his coat on tighter, before he starts to say his goodbyes.

"You guys here every day?" He asks his newfound acquaintances.

"Yeah." They chorus, nodding.

"Mind if I come back?"

"We'll be waiting." Sam grins, "See ya around."

The other two say their goodbyes, before John walks off to join his mother, the two starting the long trek back to the motel.

"New friends?" She asks, looking at him.

"Yeah." John grins widely, "I think so."

#terminator #the lost boys #terminator judgement day #terminator 2 #the lost boys edgar frog #the lost boys alan frog #the lost boys sam emerson

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jamilelucato · 4 years

Text

Faking It || pt. 4 [F.W.]

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader; Fred Weasley x reader.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Hogwarts Masterlist

Summary: You’re a Slytherin dating Draco Malfoy and life is pretty normal until Fred Weasley decides that the best prank against Draco involves you; this won’t end well, will it?

*gif not mine

Warnings: cheating; a bit angst

Words: 4k+

A/N: I’m so late and I’m so sorry! But here it is! Final part!

Tag List: @marvelsmalfoy @naomi02hook @elf-punk @enjoying-fantasyland21 @stuckindilemma @moosewingsimagines @happiestsparkleofall @gredvb @sillypotterheadcrus

—

After the second kiss, y/N and Fred couldn't stop anymore. Fred was thriving, of course. His plan was working like he dreamed it would, and although at first, you didn't want to talk — you planned on keeping things impersonal so you could separate Fred from your real boyfriend —, he found his way around you to keep things a little more talkative.

"So, how was your day?" he asked once she walked inside the empty classroom they had agreed to meet in.

You stopped at your tracks, not completing your action of reaching for his hair. Was he asking about your day for real? Was he interested? You stared at him for a long second; it seemed so. His eyes were looking at you eagerly, waiting for your reply.

"It was busy," you had no idea how to answer that, it wasn't like you very familiarized with the question — your family never asked, you had no close friends to bother with that and Draco never seemed interested. "Had a lot do."

"Like what?" he encouraged you to continue, placing his hands softly at your waist, not making any more movements to rush to the snogging part.

You looked down at your feet, not sure of what to say.

"I had to do homework," you started but realized soon enough how simple that sounded. "'Cause I've been avoiding it all week — I hate doing it right away, you know?"

He pulled you closer to him, supporting his own body on the empty table.

"How about you?" you asked, remembering good manners.

"Busy being the third wheel to my brother," he said with a faded smile. "Can't say I didn't miss you."

"Fred..." you said his name as a warning, and it was all he needed to laugh it off, almost like an angry laugh.

"It's the truth," he said. Although it wasn't for much — he hadn't been thinking about you all day —, he had just missed you when he had to watch his twin kissing Angelina. He wouldn't admit, but he had grown fond of your kisses.

"This is not supposed to be happening, Fred," you kept going, leaning back, finally staring him in the eye. "If you..."

"It's out of my mind; puff!" he rushed to say, miming an explosion with his left hand.

He finally kissed you and with his lips on yours, any worrying thoughts you had, disappeared.

It took around two more making out sessions for you to start talking to Fred about Draco. It never occurred to you that he could use the information for something wicked, and you had already passed the stage were only mentioning Draco around Fred made you insanely guilty.

As soon as the first tip came out of your lips — Draco and the other Slytherins Quidditch players were going to be training around one a.m. for the following week —, Fred and George started shaping their prank.

Fred was careful not to leave anything that could track back to him and his twin, so you wouldn't be able to accuse him. And you never blamed him, because most of the time, you never heard about the pranks. Draco felt too exposed if he had to tell someone what was happening to him — papers missing for no reason, homework's pages blanc just after he had done them and all the team's brooms were now having defects (he was feeling bad for this one since it was his father that gave them to the players).

So you kept meeting Fred in the middle of the nights, hiding in new spots every day and empty classrooms you never knew existed. You felt sinful most of the daytime, especially when you were having a meal next to Draco, but when the nights fell, you felt anxious, desperate and desirous.

Every night with Fred was different — you two manage to find new ways of touching each other every time, even after you made him promise he would not push for sex, at least not the proper thing. There were many diverse ways... that, well, you weren't so reluctant to try.

But that wasn't all of it. You two didn't spend every time attached to each others' throats; there were evenings that you'd meet at the Astronomy Tower to chat and eat midnight snacks. Spending time with Fred was more than carnal; it had become emotional.

That was when you knew you had to do something. You couldn't keep cheating on Draco. At any time were you correct of doing it, but at least in the beginning, you convinced yourself it wasn't so wrong. After all, it was what your relationship with Draco was missing — touches, kisses. More than before, your boyfriend had become distant for those things.

Fred never pushed you to break up with Draco so you two could be public. In fact, he even asked about Draco quite often — things of "how was Draco's day?", "is he gonna practice Quidditch this week?", or "is he gonna buy the whole team new brooms?" were questions you had answered.

A part of you believed that was Fred's way of telling you he didn't like the situation.

It was lunchtime when you decided you were going to break up with Draco Malfoy. It was going to be horrible, of course, but not because of you or him. The relationship was decadent anyway. The hard part would be listening to your parents complaining of how you let go of an excellent marriage chance, an opportunity of rising, even more, your pureblood status.

Oh, Merlin and when they would find out about you and Fred, how angry will they be! They despite Arthur Weasley and his "more muggle than pureblood" family.

You were also worried about Narcissa Malfoy; how nice and kind she had always been to you, and you were going to throw that all away for Molly Weasley — you heard a lot about her from Fred, and according to him, she would not like you at all.

But, even if it was going to be a living hell from now on, you had to do it. You were going to break up with Draco Malfoy.

***

Fred Weasley was hiding inside Harry's invisibility cloak, and the owner of it was right behind him and his twin — invisible as well.

"That was wicked," he whispered to the boys, "but now we have to rush out of here."

They walked out, slowly but steady, of the Slytherin's common room after watching Draco opening a special present they had sent him. The whole place had exploded with the worst smell of all time, and Draco even got blamed for it.

They were able to walk in firstly because they were invisible; secondly, because Fred walked you in your house last night and he happened to hear the password.

Once they were inside their common room, George breathed relieved.

"We could have gotten caught," he said, sitting down next to his twin in one of the red couches.

Harry sat in front of them, next to Hermione and Ginny, whose attentions were once at a Potions book.

"Nah," Fred replied, "it wouldn't be that bad."

"Of course it wouldn't be bad for you, Freddiekins," George said, not realizing what he was revealing before it was already out. "Your Slytherin princess would've come to your rescue."

Fred hit his brother on his neck, and George let out a loud "ouch!"

However, Ginny's and Hermione's eyes didn't even lock with theirs, as they expected.

Fred kept staring, confused.

"What?" Ginny asked. She noticed her brothers' worried looks before giggling. "As if we don't know about y/N."

"GEORGE!" Fred shouted, hitting his twin again, trying to be more painful this time.

"Stop it, mate, it wasn't me!" George shouted back, leaning away from his twin's hand.

"It wasn't him, Fred," Ginny spoke a bit louder so her brother would calm down immediately. "It was you actually."

George smirked before revengingly punching his twin.

"Me? I'm pretty sure I never even mentioned her to you."

"There was no need," said Hermione, closing the book and readjusting her posture.

"Firstly, you are very obvious," said Ginny. "Staring at her all the time, and frowning when she gets near Draco."

"Secondly," she continued, not allowing her brother to protest like he clearly did. "There needed to be an explanation of why you knew Draco's schedule from top to bottom."

Fred exchanged looks with his twin, who just shrugged in response. Harry tried not to laugh at the situation — he also knew everything about Fred's messing around.

"Besides, we caught the two of you holding hands in the hallways a couple of night ago," Hermione said, tilting her head towards Harry, making clear she had a witness.

"Okay, little Sherlock Holmes, you guys caught me," Fred sighed, leaning his back at the couch, relaxing. "But wasn't it worthy? Wasn't it super fun watching Draco and the rest of the dimwitted from Slytherin suffering?"

"It was the best time ever!" Harry celebrated, and Fred couldn't help but laugh with the boy.

"See?" Fred raised a brow to his sister. "Someone knows how to have fun."

"Oh, we had fun, Freddie," Ginny smirked, "and we will have so much more when it all blows up."

Fred pretended to be shocked, putting his hand over his heart. "Poor Draco Malfoy," he laughed.

"No, brother," Ginny continued, dropping the smirk as her tone got more serious. "Poor you."

*** Fred and George were walking side by side after Quidditch practice. They wanted to be running, but after the killer look Mr Filch sent them when he saw the two, they decided it was best to avoid it even if they were hungry.

George decided that if they simply washed their hands and faces, it'd be enough to walk in the Great Hall, so that was what they did. Their Quidditch jumper was a bit dirty, but they thought it was best to overlook it and simply eat.

Ginny, however, was running through the corridors, looking desperately for her brother. Once she found them, she had a little trouble stopping on her tracks, and her face almost ended up dirty because of George's jumpers.

"What the bloody hell, Ginny?!" Fred asked, holding one of her arms.

"Fred!" she shouted, a little breathless. "Y/N and Draco! They...!"

"They what, woman?" demanded George, rather impatient as well as his twin.

She took a deep breath before finally sharing. "They broke up, Fred. Y/N and Draco broke up."

Her words hovered in the air, Fred hoping he hadn't heard Ginny right. But there was no mistake as he noticed his siblings staring at him, both worried.

So you had broken up with Draco. Oh, Merlin, you had broken up with Draco! That completely ruined his plans! How was he going to know the Slytherin boy next steps?

"Fred," George started, slightly touching his twin's arm, "you have to do something."

"I know," Fred replied, not facing his twin nor Ginny.

"Are you ready to do it?" Ginny asked, but Fred couldn't understand what she meant. He had to tell you to forget about him; it wasn't that hard.

The three Weasleys kept walking towards the Great Hall, but George and Ginny left Fred behind when he stopped walking at the sight of you.

Ginny's question was starting to make sense as he tilted his head to the secret passage he wanted you to follow him through. He wasn't ready to break things up with you.

You followed him, no longer afraid if people were watching you. You weren't the one to blame anymore — you were, after a long year, single again.

Fred, however, wasn't patient enough to wait until you two were completely out of sight and he shouted at you as soon as you two had turned to another corridor just a few steps away from the Great Hall's entrance.

"How could you?!"

"What?" you asked, confused.

"How could you break up with Draco?" he asked loudly, finally looking at your [y/e/c] eyes. He regretted almost immediately, but he couldn't look away.

"Oh," you sighed, relaxing your tense muscles. "It had nothing to do with you."

"Really?!?" he frowned in a fake smile.

You gulped, "Well, you influenced the decision — it's true — but this doesn't mean at all that I expect you to propose or something."

He tilted his head to the left, pressing his fingers over his eyes.

"Then, why — why — did you break up with him?"

His hostile tone was turning you angry too, even though you had been feeling relieved a couple of minutes ago.

"Why?" you repeated, nervously giggling. "Oh my, Fred, why do you think? Because what I was doing was wrong! I was cheating on him! Don't you see how it was a bad thing, for both me and Draco?"

He looked back at you.

"It wasn't all that bad if we had so much fun," he wrinkled his nose and raised a brow.

"Well, Fred, it can still be fun!" you couldn't understand what his problem was. At first, you thought he was afraid of commitment, but you had assured him that he didn't need to be your boyfriend right away. Now it seemed as if he enjoyed being a love affair.

"No, it cannot!" Fred replied, shaking his head without having a good reason why.

You gulped while turning away from him. Though you didn't leave, you just needed him not to see you crying. That was when you noticed you had an audience.

Ginny Weasley wasn't watching you two; she was pushing Pansy Parkinson away from the scene. Fortunately, they were the only two present. You hid your face in your hands, waiting for Pansy's smart comments. There were none, however.

You glanced up at the Slytherin girl, who offered you her sympathetic look.

And that was how you found out.

Pansy had been telling you how on Earth the Slytherin players were so unlucky — with their brooms and all (you hadn't paid attention to that part) — and she wondered how people even discovered they were training at midnight.

Their practice hour was the most kept secret that the Slytherins tried to hide at all costs, particularly because if a Professor ended up knowing, they'd get punished, as it was forbidden.

At the time, you had ignored her remarks, as you were too distracted trying to figure out why there were so many girls around Fred, at the other side of the Courtyard.

However, now you knew. There was someone outside of the Slytherins that knew about the unusual Quidditch training sessions, and that was someone unusually notable for hate your team.

You turned to face Fred, with a killer expression, one he got afraid of at first sight.

"You used me," you said, your voice just a whisper because you didn't want it to be true.

"What?" he asked gulping.

"You used me!" you now shouted, one step away from getting your wand and hexing him.

He didn't say a thing and took a step back. Wrong move, Freddie, you thought.

"How oblivious have I been, oh, Merlin!" you kept roaring. "Draco's hair shorter one day after he left the library — he said he didn't want to talk about it—; the brooms of my team, all broken..."

You connected all the dots as Fred leaned away from you, and that was it for you. Reaching for your wand, you screamed: “Diffendo!"

Fred got his wand as well. "Y/N, stop! I don't wanna hurt you, please stop!" he screamed, defending himself from the spell. "I don't want to hurt you."

You lowered your wand, taking a deep breath. Hurting Fred wasn't going to turn back time, and you couldn't prevent yourself for having fallen for him. Shit, you had to realize it now?

"Don't worry, Weasley," you said, using his last name to sound as indifferent as you could. "You already did."

***

Your life was just going to classes and your dorm. When you felt hungry, you'd go to the kitchen and ask for the house-elves to prepare you something. Sometimes, Pansy Parkinson appeared with food.

You didn't expect her to turn out as your friend, but she surprised you by being very nice towards you. She kept you informed about what was going on in the school since you no longer felt like walking around it.

She was even kind enough to not gossip to everyone about you and Fred — although you couldn't be sure about that since you didn't ask around about it.

You didn't felt like leaving this routine soon. Every place in the castle seemed to hold its particular memory of one of yours and Fred's snick outs. Apparently, you two had made out all over the school, which made it harder for you to pass through hallways without remembering.

Stupid! How could you still miss someone that was just messing around with you? He used you for information about your ex, and yet, there you were, thinking about him.

***

Fred was miserable. He didn't think he would be, but he was.

After that whole scene he and you caused, he felt no longer hungry. Ginny told him she'd ask George to check up on him later, so Fred was free to disappear.

"I knew it was a bad idea," George said, sitting next to his brother on his bed, "but you were so happy..."

"Don't look very happy now, huh?" Fred sighed.

"You should talk to her."

"Are you kidding? She tried to 'Diffendo' me! Next time, I'm sure she won't hesitate to cast Avada Kedrava," Fred stared at his twin.

"Can you blame her, though?" George raised a bow at his brother.

And Fred couldn't. He knew you were right, and he was the wrong one, the one to blame. It was all his fault.

However, he did not stay locked in his room because he expected to see you around and corner you. But you weren't there in the meals, and you weren't walking around the corridors.

Oh, the corridors. Fred could point out every hidden spot he had used to kiss you, squeeze you. At this point, he had to accept he had gone mad.

It was not only until a particular Potion class, that he came to the undeniable realization of being in love.

"Merlin, why is this class smelling like chocolate?" he asked out loud to his brother, after walking in late. "Slughorn decided to offer us a chocolate frog, is that it?"

Some of the students around them started laughing.

"It doesn't smell like chocolate at all," George denied, frowning.

Fred thought about it — there was something else, but it was definitely chocolate. An exact type of chocolate, one he was missing the taste.

"That, my dear Mr Weasley," said Slughorn, coming near the boys," is the Amortentia Potion our dear Hannah is helping me prepare" and the Professor pointed to a girl messing with a cauldron.

George and Fred exchanged looks. The older twin gulped.

"Chocolate, huh?" Slughorn continued. "Is that what does it for you?" the entire class sprang laughing at the comment.

Fred knew what the Amortentia was: a love potion that left a smell of the thing one loved, imitating the scent of a loved one.

And there was only one girl Fred had kissed that smelled like chocolate.

***

"You got to do something about it," exclaimed Ginny, after hearing everything about the Amortentia. George was the one to fill her in.

"I will, little sister."

"Because if don't..." Ginny kept going only then realizing her brother's answer. "You will?"

Fred nodded affirmatively.

"How will you find her, though?" she questioned. "She's not leaving her room."

"She tried this morning," meddled Ron, who was eavesdropping all this time. "But she received a Howler, an extra loud one. From her mom — she was disappointed with her daughter for breaking up with Draco."

Fred sighed; there was nothing he could do about that. Besides, he had no idea of how to counter you.

That was until he saw Pansy Parkinson leaving the kitchen with a tray of food. Fred knew immediately to who she was taking it.

"Give it to me, Parkinson," he asked, not very politely.

"Get out, Weasley," she tried outrunning him, but failed because she was scared of dropping the food.

"Come on, we both know she can't stay hiding anymore," Fred said, "and we both know I'm the only one able to stop it."

She seemed to think about it before sighing and giving in.

"Go, lover boy," she handed him the tray.

Fred walked just two steps before turning back at the Slytherin girl.

"What's the password?" he asked, smiling embarrassedly.

"No way I'm telling you," she crossed her arms.

"Oh, come on!"

"I'll come with you," Pansy rolled her eyes and guided Fred to the dungeons.

***

The Slytherin common room was not crowded, which Fred was very thankful because he managed to walk through it without getting stopped.

"It's that door," Pansy informed him, pointing out a door to the left.

Fred breathed hard before walking in.

"Pansy, thank you for..." you froze once you noticed it was Fred. "What are you doing here?"

You stood up, showing the least formal clothing Fred had ever seen you wear. Sweat pants and a jumper, a red one even, much similar to the ones his mom makes him every year.

"We need to talk."

You rolled your eyes while he carefully positioned the tray over one of the beds.

"Weasley, I know everything I need to know."

"No, you don't," he contested. "You think you do, and perhaps at the start, it was true. I used you to get info on Draco."

You reached for the door. "That's all I need to know," you said, "Care to leave now?"

"Stop running from me, y/N, I'm not gonna hurt you," he remembered your words from days before and added: "Not anymore, anyway."

You groaned, closing the door.

"You have a minute."

He smiled at the opportunity.

"You don't know everything, okay?" he started, putting his hands in his pockets. "You don't know how I wait for the day to turn night just so I could see you again, kiss you again..."

"Have you as mine, even if for a couple of hours, was better than any prank I could have pulled on Draco," he kept going, staring straight at your eyes. "And at first, I didn't want to admit it. I wasn't brave enough to assume I was in love, not until I kinda did it in front of the whole class."

At the mention of the word "love", you felt your heart skip a beat. Could he be serious?

"You told everyone you were in love with me?" you asked, confused and curious.

"Not like that," he answered. "Have you heard of Amortentia?"

You nodded positively. You had studied it at the beginning of the year.

"Mine was smelling like chocolate," he continued, "and I told it to the entire class. They didn't realize what it meant, of course, but I did."

You stared at him, expectedly. Chocolate was it for you too — at least, it was the first thing you thought he tasted like when he kissed you that night many days ago at the Astronomy Tower.

"There's only someone I've kissed that tasted like the finest chocolate ever," he said, pressing his lips together, scared of your reaction.

"Freddie..." you started saying but didn't know how to proceed. You had to stop his puppy eyes from coming out; you had to stop him from looking at you like that — like you were his deepest desire.

But at the sound of his name coming for your lips, his heart melted just a little more.

He looked at you, expecting you to continue talking. His hand ran to his hair, nervously, just like he did at the Astronomy Tower.

"Nothing," you said, smiling acceptingly, repeating your words from that night as well.

And he remembered. He remembered every moment he spent with you.

So he rushed towards you, reaching for your chin, holding it tight so you wouldn't disappear But there was nowhere else you wanted to be.

His lips met yours, not taking long for it to get passionately. You two missed each other too much to pretend not to be eager. And he tasted like chocolate, just like he did before. Just like he would always taste.

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