#i always save them. i have a little pile of all the sweet things students have written/drawn for me over my two years here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alexlwrites · 3 months

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𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.

Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

(<<< part one)

“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Jane’s voice rang through the phone as you walked down the streets towards your desired coffee spot.

You also couldn’t believe you were doing that again. You tried your best to live your life with no regrets, but men made it very hard.

“Have you seen him since he fled the crime scene?”

“Stop calling it a crime scene” you snapped.

“Well, have you?”

Your silence was enough of an answer. No, you had not seen or heard from Jungkook since he ran away from your bedroom in the dead of night, leaving behind only the smell of cologne and, funnily enough, a single sock. When you woke up that day to an empty bed, sheets crumbled and a mattress indented on the side where he had slept, all you could muster was a tired sigh of disappointment.

And to be completely honest, you were disappointed with yourself, not Jungkook. You expected nothing less than a quick escape of him. But you should’ve known better than to hope for anything. Despite everything, you were still an idealist at heart and you thought that maybe just this once…

You shook your head obstinately. You had learned early on that no good would come from moping around for men who would never once feel any regret for their thoughtless actions and if your pain were to be always one sided, then it was better not to feel any at all. Not to dwell on it, move on, learn from it and be better. Or be worse, sometimes, as self-improvement was not always your goal.

Sometimes, you chose to listen to the tiny revengeful angel on your shoulder - who kind of sounded like Taylor Swift - that screamed for violence and vindication.

As your failed relationships started to pile up, you did reach a point where you had to wonder if you were the problem, as it was the canonical event of all 20 something women. But observation, therapy, critical thinking and hereditary pettiness brought you to the decision that it was not, in fact, your fault. At least not all of it.

With that in mind, you left only the smallest of time slots in your booked and busy schedule to ponder and grieve over the fickle nature of boys’ interests. You had better, more important things to do, such as mindlessly scroll through Minecraft/AITA videos and save pilates routines that you were never gonna do.

Still, in an experience intrinsically feminine, you allowed yourself a little treat to cope with the slight burn of despondency in the back of your mind.

And so you directed yourself to the bougie coffee house near campus, hoping to drown your sorrows with an aggressively sweet and overly caffeinated drink.

“You should slash his tires”

“Jane, please, we have talked about this.”

“You should totally slash his fucking tires!"

"Saying it louder is not gonna make me agree with you! Jane…"

Suddenly your eyes found Jungkook's across the room filled to the brim with depressed, financially irresponsible students, making you pause and hold back the urge to curl your lips in distaste. It bothered you that even with scared eyes as big as saucers and hunched shoulders to appear smaller, Jungkook still managed to look good.

But you knew better than to let him know how much his presence and pretty face annoyed you. Boys like Jungkook only cared about having an impact on people’s life, very rarely caring if it was good or bad. He wanted a reaction out of you and you learned better than to give those away so carelessly.

So you frowned and looked away, the words practiced on your lips as you said “Some guy is staring at me.”

Jane laughed loudly on the phone “You’re a psycho, you know that?”

“I don’t know who it is, Jane, some dude” you stole a quick glance at him, finding vengeful glee at his shocked expression.

“Send me a pic of his reaction, I’m posting it on TikTok.”

You continued playing your part, ignoring your sister’s interruptions as you usually did “Of course I’m carrying a taser, Jane, I’m not an animal…”

“I’ll give you 5 bucks to tase him.”

“You know what, this coffee is not even worth the visual harassment, God I hate men…”

You walked out of the coffee house, hand empty but with a fulfilled sick sense of accomplishment as you stepped out into the street with a shit-eating grin.

“I hope you know what you’re doing” Jane said and you could hear the smile in her voice. Out of your two sisters, Jane was never the one to tell you to not do something, preferring to let you make your own mistakes.

And boy, did you.

You left your big, beautiful, tattooed mistake behind you, ready to move on to something less prone to disappointment, such as fictional men and your Stardew Valley husband “Dont worry” you told your sister “I don’t.”.

—

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, left eye twitching slightly at your unbothered expression.

After your confusing exit from the coffee shop and a good amount of jabs from his friends, Jungkook had to hunt you down across campus, finding you sitting under a tree with a book in your hands, looking way too peaceful for someone who just had humiliated him.

You looked down at your book with an arched eyebrow “Kegels, clearly. Why?”

“No, I mean…” Jungkook’s frustration was rising by the second, the vein on his neck jumping out “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”

You frowned.

“Do I know you?” you asked, face doubtful.

“We have classes together?”

You blinked, impassive.

“We went on a date?”

A head shake.

“We slept together!”

“Nope, can’t say it rings any bells.”

That’s it. Jungkook was actually convinced you were clinically insane.

“How can you not remember?”

“How can I remember something that never happened?”

“But it did! You’re crazy! I chased you for weeks!”

You smiled, a trap.

“So, you're, like, in love with me?” you ask, tone condescending.

Jungkook scoffed and you weren’t sure if it was at the idea of love or loving you. “No, of course not.”

“So in this dream scenario of yours, we had sex but we weren’t together?”

“Trust me, this” he gestured between the two of you “is no dream scenario.”

“Well, aren’t you a charmer” you crossed your arms in front you, defensive “Let me get this straight. You, allegedly, chased me for weeks, but don’t really like me. Then, we had casual, out-of-relationship sex and then what? You banged my head against the headboard so hard I completely forgot about it? Your story is full of holes, my dude.”

You had to fight back the urge to smirk, energy spiking from feeding off of Jungkook’s stupefied confusion.

Nail in the coffin, you shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book “Maybe you weren’t that memorable and my mind deleted you like a childhood trauma.”

A slight left eye spasm was all the reaction you got at first, evolving to the pursing of pouty lips and the clenching of fists.

“You are insane” he said at last after seconds of turning clogs in his barely filled mind.

“Finally you said something true.”

Jungkook was equally bewildered and furious. He didn’t know what your deal was or what you were getting out of this, but your refusal to admit you had sex pissed him off deeply considering how much time and effort he put into getting you together.

“Also, I have to ask” you continued, clearly not done with your pursuit of driving him up the wall “what was your goal with this conversation? Chasing me for weeks to then sleep with me and then come here and tell me you’re not actually interested in me, but being upset when I don’t remember something that didn’t happen… What’s the point?”

Jungkook paused. Truly, he didn’t have much of an end goal in mind, actions fueled only by a bruised ego and a childish, borderline pathological need to prove himself.

When he didn’t answer, you stood up and gathered your things, keeping your head down to hide your poorly concealed satisfaction “I’ll let you ponder on that” you said “Don’t worry about reaching out with an answer, though.”

Finally, you looked up at him, face masked with faux awkwardness. “Anyway. Nice to meet you, I guess? No, actually, not really, this was weird as shit. You seem to have some things to figure out. Get help and take care, my dude.”

And so you left, leaving behind only a cloud of your bergamot perfume and a perplexed Jungkook blinking owlishly.

There was a sudden influx of thoughts rushing through his usually much less busy mind, the general tone of confusion ringing amongst humiliation and frustration.

When Jungkook first set his greedy eyes on you, he had an inkling that you’d be a handful and in the beginning, you truly were. You took pleasure in making everything much more difficult for him, running from his presence like the plague and approaching the whole subject of him like one would the subject of warts - reluctantly and with caution.

And if he were honest, he wasn’t too sure on why he insisted, but one would be surprised at how far Jungkook would escalate things out of spite and resentment.

It was that same sick combination of flavors that drove him insane for weeks, moving him to pester you until you gave him a chance. And he took it, lord, did he take it.

That night, he made every possible effort to please you, cloaked in his best, non-ranch stained clothes and best non-arrogant behavior.

And when morning came and he opened up his eyes before you did, tired out from the epitome of his bestest behavior, there was a moment of quiet as he watched you eyelids flutter delicately, soft arm draped lightly over his waist.

The night before had been… Fun, he thought, even before you had reached your bedroom. You were weird and used a bunch of words he didn’t know, but you also made him laugh and listened to him babbling about his interest without once looking bored, even going as far as asking questions about his farfetched MCU theories.

And despite your many (too many to count, insurmountable really) differences, you had… Chemistry, one could call it. Thick chemistry, palpable tension, pushing you towards each other despite your previous attempts to go the other way.

But no amount of chemistry could break Jungkook’s routine as inertia pushed him out of your bed, practiced steps light as feathers as he escaped your apartment with one last look to your sleeping form and somehow one less sock on his feet.

And as he left, there was an undiagnosed pounding in his heart he tried to chalk off as the result of his Dorito and monster drink based diet, but his eyes kept flashing back to where you rested even when he was miles away.

He tried to make sense of your persistent presence in the back of his mind. You were cool, he’d give you that. Hot too. But it didn’t matter how your body fit his like they were manufactured together or how your passive aggressive way of flirting (or insulting, he had a hard time telling them apart with you) never failed to steal a snort from his lips. And yeah, it was kind of nice when you called him cute everytime he didn’t understand something you said. It brought a blush to his cheeks and wild butterflies to his stomach, because… Well, no one had ever called him cute after middle school. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Once a week. Biggest dick ever? Yes, both meanings.

But not cute. And deep down, under layers of aggressively oversized shirts and muscles… Jungkook kind of liked being cute.

Jungkook shook that thought away. Despite all that, you were a point he had to make.

And he did! Point proven and undisputed, up until you looked at him like he was a silly little kid throwing a tantrum (which he kind of was) and questioned him and his sanity,

But Jungkook was obstinate and, even more, the sorest of losers. He had proven himself once and would again! He was a man on a mission, he decided, watching you walk away from him while mouthing the words “I’ll pray for you!”. And the mission was to either send you into a psychiatric hospital or get you back into his bed.

And if the butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly at that second prospect, he didn’t allow himself to ponder on it for a single second.

°•. ✿ .•°

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#bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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kaciidubs · 7 months

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Open Heart

❣ Summary: When you don't know what to say or do, when life starts living you, you can always rely on Chris to bring you back. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 3.2k ❣ Warnings: Mental breakdown, existential crisis, implied panic attack, angst, fluff, comfort, crying, Supportive BF! Chris, Reader is a mess mentally and emotionally, discussions of family, careers, life, and the future, self doubt, self deprecation, mentioned disassociation ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Christopher, and Christopher Bahng [wowie], Reader is referred to as Princess, Baby, Love, Sweet Girl, this is the one that's personal so I'm sorry if you can relate but also you're not alone ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Yeah, dad, I know... Mhm... No, I haven’t heard back from them yet, but it’s only been a week since I applied so... Yeah, I know…”

You paced the living room of your apartment, holding your phone to your ear as you did your best to tame the headache brewing in your head.

“I know you do, it’s just - there’s so many things I can do with my degree, I’m just trying to figure out what I want to do... I know... Yeah... Okay... Talk to you later... Love you too, bye.”

Ending the call, you tossed your phone onto the couch with a heavy sigh - the weight of the world piling on top of stress already weighing on your shoulders.

Everything sucked - almost as if the world was out to get you for simply existing; years of doing what was right, doing what you were supposed to, only for you to still feel like you weren’t doing enough.

People pleasing.

A wave of guilt made your stomach turn, tears stinging behind your eyes as you stood in the silence, yet it still felt so loud.

You knew your dad meant well, your parents meant well, your family meant well, but every question, every poorly veiled nudge of ‘What’s your next big move going to be? You’ve been stagnant for so long.’ ate at your psyche at every turn. You felt like you did everything; you graduated high school in the high percentage of your class, you went to college, you graduated as a first generation student after five excruciatingly long years - yet through all that they still wanted more from you.

A pleasure to have known. You have so much potential.

If you had a dime for the amount of times you’ve heard those words, you would’ve been a millionaire by now.

A shaky breath rattled in your chest as you sighed, your hands rising to cup your rapidly heating face. “Fuck... F-Fuck.”

Your vision blurred, salty tears stinging your eyes before burning fiery trails down your cheeks with no signs of stopping.

When was it going to be enough? When were you going to be enough?

Your breath hitched, choking on a sob that your body refused to let go - not now, not right now. You were still young, you had so much potential - so why did it feel like you were being rushed? Why did it feel like everyone saw some invisible clock above you, counting down the days until you’d become useless?

Wasted potential - those words always used to scare you, the famous buzzwords of any educator wanting to instill proper work ethic in their students; the future of the workforce.

Wasted potential - that’s what you were beginning to feel at your 9-5; a quaint little job you kept throughout your final semester, something that got the bills paid and kept a little more in your savings.

Wasted potential - that’s what you felt when your days began blending together, when you realized disassociation was your coping mechanism until your mouse hovered over ‘clock out’.

You wanted to do so much, so much, but there was never enough time in the day - they were never ideas that would earn you a proper living wage, a career path your family wouldn’t agree with.

Your body shook as a sob finally tore through your silent cries, your head throbbing as air tried to force its way into your lungs - crying never used to hurt like this.

Your world spun, it felt like time froze while speeding up, but all you could do was cry - stand in your living room and cry like a reprimanded child because you weren’t doing what you were supposed to.

“Princess?”

Your eyes snapped open behind your fingers, quickly registering a bigger, warmer pair wrapping around your wrists.

“Baby, can you hear me?”

Guilt.

Chris was home early, and instead of relaxing like he deserved, he now had to tend to you - crying over the same thing you cried over four months ago.

He felt you tense, he could see the spiral of overthinking, and his grip tightened, “Hey, hey, it’s just me - it’s just me, princess.”

You sniffled, biting back another sob as you shook your head, “’M s-sorry-”

“Shh, don’t apologize - you don’t have to apologize, not to me, not for this.”

Understanding - he was always so good at that, making sure you knew you weren’t the problem of anything; he always joked he got better at it from you.

Another wave of tears surged through you, nearly making you double over at the rush of fresh emotions popping off in your brain, your jaw tensing as you tried to stifle the illegible babbling falling from your lips.

“I- It’s- I can’t- And- It’s just so-”

Chris pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cradled the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing circles just behind your ear. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay - I’m here, you’re okay.”

He blinked away his own tears, the sounds of your cries breaking his heart when he entered the apartment, and now the feeling of your body shaking against his like a fall leaf utterly tearing him apart inside.

You weren’t sure how long you both stood there, him whispering words of comfort in your ear while you stained his black hoodie with your tears, but you slowly came out of your breakdown with uneven breaths - your hands holding onto his hoodie as if he was your lifeline.

He was your lifeline.

“Can we go to the bedroom, princess? Can we manage that?” He cooed softly, a soft smile settling on his lips as he felt you nod. “Okay, we’ll go slow, yeah?”

True to his word, he slowly led you into the bedroom with shuffling steps, noting how you clung to him like a baby koala, as if you separated from him at any point you’d float away into space.

Sitting on the bed first, he scooted toward the middle of the mattress and you quickly followed suit; crawling toward him before laying your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his while he pulled you into his side.

It was quiet, save for the occasional hiccuped breath and sniffle, the sound of his heartbeat slowing the thudding in your own head, the rise and fall of his chest reminding you how to breathe again.

“Love?”

You hummed softly, your free hand nonchalantly playing with the drawstring of his hoodie.

“Wanna talk about what happened?”

Dropping your hand to lay flat on his chest, you took a deep breath to fight back another round of tears threatening to come out. “I... My dad called to check in, see how we were doing and all... He wanted to know if I found a different job yet, one that uses my degree, and I told him I hadn’t.” Swallowing thickly, you squeezed your eyes shut as you continued, “He’s worried that I’m not using my full potential, that I’m not getting paid what I should - and I don’t blame him, really, I went to college for a reason and everything, but it just feels like I'm being rushed into making another decision I’m not ready for."

“Another decision like picking your major?” Chris chimed in - he’d remembered you telling him about your realization of wanting to switch majors in your junior year, but ultimately choosing not to since you were close to graduating at the time.

You nodded, “I know he means well, I love my dad, I love my family, but it just feels like they don’t understand that I'm just...tired. I’m so, so tired that the idea of getting a new job - when I’ve only been at this one for just over a year - makes me feel like I can’t breathe. Fuck, the fact that I’ve been at this job for a year makes my skin crawl because this isn't what I want.”

Picking mindlessly at a few cotton pills collected on the fabric of his hoodie, a heavy sigh escaped you, “I feel like all I’ve been doing my whole life is performing for other people, catering to other people, to the point that I don’t even know who I am. I’ve always been told all these great things about myself, but-” A hot tear rolled across the bridge of your nose, “I don’t believe them, at all. Everyone sees all this potential in me and it drives me crazy because I don’t see potential in myself.”

Your name rolled off of his tongue softly, with so much care and gentleness that it made your heart hurt more because he’d been part of the crowd singing your praises and you practically confessed that you didn’t believe him.

“Princess, my sweet, sweet girl…”

“C-Chris, I’m-”

“Please,” he cut you off with a gentle squeeze, “you already know what I’m gonna say if the next words out of that pretty mouth of yours are ‘I’m sorry’.”

Sighing softly, you accepted that fate as his right hand slid down your arm to take your hand in his, another gentle squeeze to remind you that he’s right here.

“I just... I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Well,” Chris hummed softly, taking in the way your smaller fingers threaded between his own, “what is it you want to do?”

It was almost as if you stopped breathing, guilt and shame swirling around in your head at his question - the golden question everyone had, but never got the full answer to.

“...open heart?”

This time it was Chris’s turn to falter, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your tear stained face. “Open heart, princess, always.”

Open heart, something you’d both established years ago in your relationship as a way of asking for full attention - reestablishing that you both were in a safe space with zero judgment, remaining heart to heart with one another.

“I-” You paused, fighting against the will of your mind wanting to keep yourself protected, from being seen. “I... I don't want to do anything…”

Before he even had the chance to breathe, you jumped into the defensive, “A-And I know that’s stupid- I’m in such a position so early on in my life and there’s so much I can do, but, baby, I’m at a point right now that I can’t see myself working a 9-5 for the next month, let alone another 40-or so years of my life!” Panic quickly began to set in as your thoughts ran a mile a minute, your brain begging you to stop but your heart pleading for you to get rid of this weight. “I can’t be a girl boss, I don’t want to be independent, I-I just wanna be taken care of and loved and supported - I wanna take care of all the things at home and be the one helping you reset after those stressful days. I wanna learn about myself and my hobbies and discover what kind of person I really am underneath all of these learned traits. And I’m sorry, I know, it’s pathetic, it’s shameful, it’s selfish to want to put all of this onto you-”

The sound of your name falling firm from his lips stopped you in your tracks, your blood running cold as you laid as still as you could be against him.

“Open heart means we can’t speak for each other, remember that rule?” His tone was softer, light and teasing, quelling the tinge of fear spoiling every word you spoke as you nodded. “Okay, good - now, can I say something, or would you like to continue?”

“Please say something, Channie.”

“Alright, first and foremost, don’t ever, ever call anything you want ‘stupid’ - your desires are what make you you, and that includes wanting that 24-inch green matcha squishmallow.”

He felt your body shake - short laugh, a huff of air, a sign that he was breaking through.

“Second, I don’t think you wanting to be provided for is pathetic or shameful or selfish - it takes a strong person to admit that, and at the end of the day I think that’s what everyone wants in their own special form; somewhere they feel safe, cared for, loved. And, you’re not putting it all on me,” he felt you tense, but his hand held firm to yours, “because I want to be that for you. I want to provide for you, take care of you, handle all the things that are too big and scary for you to figure out on your own. I want to give you the freedom to explore and be yourself, pursue what you want and don’t want to do - and if that makes you ‘selfish’ then, princess, I’m the most selfish person of them all.”

“You-” your voice cracked, throat raw and sore, “You don’t mean that, baby, please-”

“C’mere.” He huffed, pulling you up with him as he sat up before tapping your thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap - and once you were situated, he cupped your face in his hands, “I would never lie to you, you hear me? Since the day we met I knew I wanted to do everything in my power to care for you, even when we were just friends and you would join the kids in teasing me about how old I was even though you weren’t too far off yourself.”

Your pouted lips morphed into a sad smile and he had to stop himself from cooing over how cute you looked, even with puffy eyes and an even puffier face.

“Plus, I’ve been taking care of seven other people for the better half of five years, what makes you think I don’t want to do the same for the love of my life?”

Teary eyes searched his for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was overflowing truth and love, a fresh breath of acceptance cooling your lungs like drinking ice water after eating a mint.

“Open heart?” You murmured softly, taking his hands in your own before pulling them off of your, embarrassingly sore, face.

He nodded, ducking his head to press a fleeting kiss to your knuckles.

“I was always a little jealous of you, you know that?”

“Me?!”

The shocked squeak in his voice made a giggle, a genuine giggle, bubble up inside of you and you nodded in earnest.

“Yeah, you. I always felt like I was so far behind everyone around me when it came to having their passions in order, having their lives in order, and when I met you all I could think about was how sure of yourself you were - how you were able to follow through and actually do what you love for a living not only because people around you supported you, but because you believed in yourself.” Dropping your gaze to your entwined hands, you traced your thumbs along his knuckles, “You always knew what you wanted and you worked toward it - I always wished I could be like that, I still do.”

“Baby, you know you can’t-”

“-compare my life to yours, yeah, yeah, I know.”

He didn’t miss the lilt of playfulness highlighting your words, a smile finding its way to his face as he shot you a lighthearted glare, “No mocking! But, really, you shouldn’t - we come from completely different backgrounds, and if anything I’m more jealous of you than you are of me; there’s so many things you’ve done that I haven’t had the chance to experience.”

You let out an incredulous scoff, tilting your head inquisitively, “Like what? Work a draining part time job in the food industry?”

“Yes!” Though he was laughing, you could still hear the serious notes in his voice, “You got to work retail, you went on family vacations whenever you wanted, you fucking graduated college before I did!”

“Okay, first of all, all of my horror stories should deter you from ever wanting to become a retail employee in your near future!” Dropping his hand, you poked him in the chest with a faux glare, “Second, I guess you’ve got me there - between how often I’ve seen my family compared to you, I do win that spot… But that last one you definitely have over me, Mr. Double Major!”

“Oh shut up - you’re a graduate, I’m still in classes; you didn’t have to go from having practice at 8 but an exam due at 8:30, while still needing two demo tracks ready for the first listen at 10!”

The two of you dissolved into a mess of giggles and smiles, whatever tension remained melting away with each melodic sound that escaped you.

“Princess?”

You hummed, a soft smile settling on your lips, “Yeah, Channie?”

“Open heart,” Chris started warmly, deep brown eyes sparkling with a love only you could know, “I want you to know that I meant every word I said - I do want to take care of you, physically, mentally, financially, whatever way you’ll let me. And - not to sound cocky or anything, but I definitely make enough to support the both of us with no issue. Aside from that, I want to build a life with you - so if that life includes you being the hottest stay at home wife then it’s the best life I could’ve ever asked for because you’re in it.”

A wave of heat rushed over you as butterflies erupted in your stomach, “Stay at home wife, hm?”

Of course, you paid attention to everything else he said, but you didn’t think you’d be able to say anything on it without bursting into tears again.

“Would you prefer stay at home mom? I mean, you’ve already got seven kids calling you it anyways - and I can’t lie, it does have a nice ring to it.” He grinned, releasing your other hand to wind his arms around your waist, scooting your body closer to his.

Rolling your eyes at his less than subtle tease, you snaked your arms around his shoulders, nails playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, “Let’s just start with stay at home girlfriend and see where we go from there, yeah?”

“So you’ll quit tomorrow?”

“Christopher!” You stood no chance in holding back the burst of laughter that escaped you, narrowly avoiding knocking your head against his as you shook with unabashed giggles, “Tomorrow? You sound like you’ve been waiting for this confession to come!”

“Baby, I was one more angry rant of your supervisor ‘springing last minute work onto you’ away from quitting for you.”

Reeling yourself back in, you leaned forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss, your world finally feeling like the pieces were slowly falling into place - or, at the very least, revealing themselves to you. “I love you, Christopher Bahng, wholly and truthfully, there’s no words in the entire galaxy to express how much you mean to me.”

He held you tight, pressing his forehead against yours with a soft sigh, “I love you more, more than you ever know, more than all the stars in this universe and the next. Whatever you decide, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you - just say the word.”

“Does that include ordering takeout for dinner tonight so we can keep cuddling?”

“Find a menu while I change?”

“Order it while I wash my face?”

“Deal.”

Everything sucked, sure, and there was still much left to figure out - but with Chris by your side, you realized that things could get better with an open mind and an open heart.

#stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader #bang chan angst #bangchan angst #bang chan fluff #bangchan fluff #tw mental health #mental health tw

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sky-kiss · 6 months

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Raphael x Tav: Coffee Shop AU Pt. 2

A/N: Continuing from this, because someone wanted Raphael's POV and I wanted to goof off instead of writing serious things.

______

She’s a Barista. How Did it Come to This?

______

As a professor of the English language and literature on the whole, Raphael has no small amount of experience when it comes to divining an author’s intent and reading subtext. Years of honing these talents allow him to translate Haarlep’s intended message: ask the barista out.

What he actually says is, “It’s been seven months, old man, is this a joke? Skip dinner and fuck the poor thing sideways.” Which is uncouth, uncivil, and utterly par for the course for the younger man.

“Why are you here?”

Haarlep shrugs. He’s currently sprawled out across the only sofa in the teacher’s lounge, both monopolizing the space and looking too cramped on the loveseat. Korilla rolls her eyes, leaning over his feet to pluck another paper from the pile. The University has afforded him two assistants this semester. Only one is pulling their weight. But Haarlep’s is not without use. Between himself and his assistant, he has never seen:

Such positive class reviews.

So many female students with a vested interest in classical literature.

It’s frankly uncanny.

“You’d be happier for taking my advice.”

“Not everyone is playing ‘catch the venereal' disease, Haarlep,” Korilla mutters. Haarlep shoots her a look. Something unspoken passes between them. In the absence of words (and Korilla’s repentance), Haarlep digs their heel into her thigh before sitting up.

“Oh, take me with you. One evening, Raphael. That's all I need. And you and your sweet barista will be happy little lambs.”

“Aren’t you busy?” Raphael eyes the essays.

Haarlep waves him off. “Unimportant. I hate to see you so solemn, dear. Please.”

And unfortunately, there’s no denying Haarlep anything once they’re in full flow. Gods save them all.

_________

Fifteen minutes into the drive, he insists on silence. Raphael is always one for a good discussion, but Haarlep is a peculiar breed. He whiplashes from topic to topic with an alacrity most find disorienting and asserts opinions so occasionally outlandish that Raphael wonders if he believes them. The smirk says he doesn’t; half of what they do is for their amusement, the little shit.

“You must like her,” Haarlep mutters. “The cafe might as well be in a different city.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. We’re half an hour from campus.”

“Mmm.”

He doesn’t like that sound one bit. Or the look his assistant is giving him. Raphael grumbles, motioning for the younger man to go ahead of him. The bell on the door chimes when they step inside, and he’s overcome with that feeling of peace.

Tav’s shop smells equal parts coffee shop and bookstore, the slightly spicy scent of old paper lingering on the air. He associates the smell with snowy mornings spent indoors, curled beneath his covers, safe and comfortable. There are seating areas and tables, yes, indicative of any metropolitan cafe. It’s the books he fell in love with. Shelves and shelves of books, of all genres and ages. You were as likely to find a history of naval battles as you were an airport bestseller or romance.

Haarlep pulls a face. “It smells like a library.”

“That will be the books, you troglodyte.”

They accept the gibe gamely enough, stuffing their hands in their pockets. Haarlep scans the place with their frankly unsettling, at times preternatural, gaze, weighing every barista. They linger on Tav. “That one?”

“How…”

“Raphael, you are aware of what attraction looks like, yes? Do you have some cursory awareness? That girl looked at you with the stupidest doe-eyes when you walked in. It made me a little upset. Or nauseous.” He waved a hand. “Hard to say which.”

“Your dramatics are noted, Haarlep. Find a book. I’ll order for us.”

“Oh, good. More reading.”

He is very aware of Haarlep’s eyes on him as he approaches the counter. It pales in comparison to the roiling feeling in his gut. The voice in his head (sounding too much like his father) screams every time he gets close. She’s too young; they’re from different worlds. She won’t look at him. If she’s polite, it’s because she’s paid to be polite, Raphael. Tav smiles at him; the expression lights up the entirety of her face. He thinks, in that moment, that she is one of the most singularly lovely creatures he’s seen.

“Raphael!” She uses his name. Tav leans forward on the counter, beckoning him nearer. Her little friends behind the counter share a look among themselves, snickering. “I took your advice.” She points to a shelf on the left side of the store. He recognizes the book: one of his recommendations. “You were right. I couldn’t put it down. I figured others might enjoy it too. If you have any more suggestions…”

“Of course. Of course! It’s…very nearly my profession!”

“Isn’t that your profession?”

He smirks, dipping into a half bow. “Among other things. You’ll find me a font of philosophy and tired rhetoric. Should it ever strike your fancy.”

“Mmm. You do know how to sweet talk a girl.”

He thinks he hears Haarlep groan from across the cafe. Tav is looking at him, and the weight of that stare leaves him parched or hungry. Raphael clears his throat. “May I ask how you found the ending?”

“Why doesn’t she explain it to you,” Shadowheart says, sliding a coffee to him. “Over dinner? Say six?”

Haarlep winds an arm around his waist, resting their chin on his shoulder. “Six is perfect, my beauty. He can’t wait. Italian?”

“Her absolute favorite. Passatempo?”

Haarlep reaches out to shake the she-elf’s hand. “He’s never been. But he’s so eager to try.”

It is, perhaps, the most surreal way he’s ever gotten a date. Tav stares at him in sputtering horror, her face a vibrant red. Raphael saves her, writing his number on one of the cafe’s business cards. He hands it to her. “My number. I look forward to our…”

“...date.” She finishes, so conclusively, so resolutely, that he laughs.

“Yes. Of course.”

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #shadowheart #haarlep #au: coffee shop #my writing #got that idiot brain #got everyone a job at Raphael's university #someone save me #its terrible #fluff #horrible tooth rotting fluff #remind me to kill them or something next fic

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dia-souls · 1 year

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🥀 Subayui fanfic 🥀

Pairing: Subaru🗡️ and Yui 🌸

Author: Admin Ava

Genre: Sweet themes, Funny, Happy ending

Chapter: 4

🥀 Gothic Soirée 🥀

Subaru yawned as he woke up from his nap. As he was rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes, he begin to see everyone starting to pile out and heading toward the lunch room. He had no use for food and didn’t need to when a cup would be enough to save him. Even if it only was for a little while. Speaking of blood, Subaru’s mind once again gravitated towards a certain blonde that has been encompassing his thoughts since this morning.

Honestly, it was like she lived rent-free in his head. She’d been on his mind since he’d left the rooftop and headed to class. Even while he got shut-eye during class, his dream was centered around her as well. It was a simple dream, the both of them were sitting under a tree near the water; it was windy and kinda cold. He opened his eye and took a peek at her. She had her arms wrapped tightly around her cold body. Her small nose had turned a rosy tint along with her cheeks and fringes. He held out his hand to her and she took it, slowly engulfing her body in his. He wrapped his larger body against her much smaller one and the two cuddled closely until it no longer felt frigid.

Subaru's heart started to thump softly in his chest as he reminisced about the pleasant dream. It was one he didn’t mind waking up from. Especially after thinking about her for the majority of the day. Even with the annoying buzzes of people around him continually talk up the dance. Seriously was that the only important thing going on in their lives that they had to keep talking on and on and on about? Maybe Subaru couldn’t understand because most of his early life was surrounded by going to uncomfortable parleys with his mentally unstable mother.

Those nights would normally end with her having a manic episode which he would try, and miserably fail, to calm her down. He remember the stares of all the participants who silently looked at them. Their faces always pissed him off. “Couldn’t they mind their own damn business?” He would think while trying not to lash out at them as he simultaneously tried to calm down his wailing mother. Those types of parties always left a bad taste in his mouth. Even after all that time that had passed, he still hates those parties with a passion that burns so intensely that even he couldn’t control it sometimes. But, this was different. This time he wasn’t too apprehensive about this event. He had a reason for wanting to willingly this time. He wanted to go with her.

After thinking about it for a bit he knew that she would be excited about this type of thing. He knew her well enough to know that she had been listening to all the gossip by the other students about the event. He also knew that she must be losing her marbles in excitement and was probably daydreaming about it. He couldn’t help but let a chuckle pass through his lips as he thought about her at her desk with her hand on her cheek, drool on her face, and a dorky smile plaster on her cute face. But, suddenly he stops laughing. You see, in his blissful ignorance, he had forgotten an annoying factor or factors that could prohibit him from asking her. His brothers.

He had a feeling that at least one of those fuckers would try to get the drop on him. Especially those damn triples. He also knew that the Mukami’s would most likely be a hindrance as well. “Tch, knowing those bastards…they’ll try to swoop her up before I even get the chance. She’s probably eating lunch right now so I can use this opportunity to ask her before anyone of those jackasses get the chance to!” Subaru mind was made up. Not thinking about how he was gonna ask her, he rushed to the second-year hall in search of the little human. He first went to her classroom, but the teacher said she wasn’t there. He next headed towards the lunch room, but as it may be, she wasn’t there either.

He had decided to check the library since he knows she enjoys going there to relax until lunch is over. But as he turned to the corner to the library, in a very horsed voice, someone had called out to him. “SUBARU!” Subaru immediately looked up to see where the voice was coming from. In his shock, he saw Yui bolting towards him in a fast-paced, stumbling, barely able to hold herself up. Subaru rushed to her and pulled her into his arms.

He couldn’t even get a word out when she said in her horsed voice, “ hide… we must hide…” “Hide? Hide from what?! What happened?! Who the hell did this to you?! Yui grabbed him by the shirt and looked up at him with pleading eyes full of tears. “Subaru please!….we need… to…hide.” Every word that came out of her mouth was worst than the last. And even though he had questions, now was not the time for them. Subaru instantly picked her up and clutch her tightly to his chest. “Hang on as tight as you can!”

Subaru teleported them to a secluded area. An empty classroom that looked like it hadn’t been used for a while. He carefully set down the shaken-up girl. Now that she was settled, it gave him time to see just how disheveled she looked; her neck and legs were covered in purple-blackish bruises, her hair was tangled, covered in dust and drops of blood, her eyes tired but still tense with fear, and her teeth stained with what looked to bee blood. She lay limp as she tried to suck in as much air as she could. Subaru held her steady while she did so. Afterward, when she finally calmed down, Subaru decided he would ask what had happened.

“Oi, You ok now? “ "Yes,… I think so at least." He laid her in his while softly stroking her tangled locks. “What happened to you back there? When I saw you running towards me, looking like this, I was ready to kill someone. Especially when you said we needed to hide. Just who were you hiding from? I bet it was one of my brothers. When I find that miserable bastards I’ll tear him in shreds!”

Yui stayed quiet. Her eyes were still wet with tears, emotion wasn’t even visible. Subaru look at her gloomy expression, he compared it to a child that had done something wrong but was too afraid to tell anyone. It was clear that Yui hadn’t calmed down yet. Her face was racked with guilt. But why should she be guilty? After all, it was Kou who almost killed her. Why should she be the one racked with guilt?

If anything, she should just tell Subaru about what he did. Let him find the sadistic vampire and teach him a lesson for what he did to her! But, while it seems like the best thing to do in this situation. It’s not something that she would do. Was she mad? Yes of course she was angry with Kou and the deranged way he acted. Was she in horrible physical condition? Yes, her body was bruised and windpipes were swollen. Was she still sacred? A little, after Subaru got them to a safer location, she felt a bit safer.

Lastly, did she want to cause animosity between Subaru and his only friend? No, she didn’t, of course, she didn’t want there to be any hatred between the two. She was happy that Subaru had a friend that wasn’t scared of him or treated him differently like his classmates did on a daily bases. But after what Kou did to just a while ago, she wasn’t just going to let that happen! It didn’t matter if she wanted to keep the peace between them. He’s the one who’s started and she is the one who told the truth to Subaru.

Even if it might stint their growing friendship. At this point that wasn’t the problem, The problem was that she almost died because he wouldn’t let go of her throat just she rejected his disgusting, abominable, cruel, and unjust affections. If you can even call them that. So with a conflicted but firm understanding of everything, she looked at Subaru and told him what had transpired 20 minutes ago. “I was in the library, I’d wanted to get some pace before class started a while later. Not even a few minutes, Kou suddenly appeared before me which kind of caught me off, guard.” The mention of his name had Subaru's eyes narrowing with annoyance, but he let her continue.

“I asked him why he was here. He asked me if anyone had asked me to the dance, and I said no. He suggested that I go with him, and his request shocked me so much that I fell out of my chair. After he began to laugh at me I just decided to leave but then he cornered me at the entrance. Told me I was rude for not giving him an answer and that I shouldn’t have walked away. I told him that if he had nothing else better to do than make fun of me after I fell I wasn’t just going to sit there and let him do it. I also told him that my answer was no. However, he didn’t take that rejection too well….He grabbed me by the throat and choked me while hurtling insults in my face over and over again for not saying yes to him. He had his hands wrapped so tightly around my neck that I thought I was going to die. With the last bit of strength, I had I bit his hand and fell to the ground. That’s why my teeth are strained. But before I could even get a breath in he was already walking towards me to make me pay for what I did. Luckily I had a pen in my pocket and stabbed him in his injured hand, which gave me time to escape. I ran down the hall and saw you. That’s why I wanted to get away so Kou wouldn’t have found me. That’s what happened.”

Subaru stayed quiet for a bit. His eyes were covered by his hair, however, Yui notice just how sharp his fangs looked. How his fist clenched, and how silent he was. Yui walked closer to him to get a better look at his face. But when she saw the look in his eyes, it was the first time in a long time that she’d been scared of him. His eyes were deprived of all emotion. His pupils had turned into slits. He looked as if he was barely keeping himself together.

And then, in a deep, dark, cold voice he said,” When I find that jackass…I’ll end his miserable existence piece by FUCKING PIECE! THAT ASSHOLE! WHO THE HELL DOES HE THINK IS HURTING YOU BECAUSE YOU REJECTED HIM?! THERE ARE MILLIONS OF BITCHES WHO WOULD OVE HIS ATTENTION! WHY THE HELL IS HE BOTHERING YOU?!” Subaru was furious! How dare that wanna-be idol to touch her! He wanted to kill him. Mangle up that money-maker face of his until nobody recognized him. And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

Subaru headed towards the door, ready to give the half-breed a piece of his mind. Then, he felt a familiar pair of arms wrap tightly around his waist. It was the arms of the girl who right now he desperately wanted to protect. “Subaru please…don’t go. I understand that you’re furious right now, I am too. But anger won't solve anything and you know that….so please just for now. Please stay with me. I’m still scared of him finding me...I know that he’s probably still angry. So don’t go.” Subaru's narrow eyes looked down at the small girl. Even though he was angry and was inching to make Kou bleed out. He already knew that he couldn’t leave her by herself. It wouldn’t be fair.

He sighed. After calming down a bit, Subaru turned around and grabbed her hand. He took her back to one of the chairs in the old classrooms, sat her down, and hugged her. Yui was taken aback by the 180 mood change but didn't mind it. It felt nice to be near him after the eventful morning she had. The two of them stayed like that for some time. Not one of them said a word, they just hugged each other quietly. After a while, the silence was broken by Subaru. Knowing that this might not be the best time to ask, but also knowing that he may not get a better opportunity than this. With rose tint cheeks, Subaru asked.

”Hey...I know that I sound like an idiot for asking this after what you’ve just been through but…w-would you like to go to the dance with me?”

She stayed quiet. Great, now he knew he fuck up. Why did he even ask her after what just happened 2 hours ago? He was such a-.

“Sure. I’d love to go with you Subaru-kun.” She smiled.

Chapter 4 ended.

To be continued…

#diabolik lovers #yui komori #komori yui #subaru sakamaki #sakamaki subaru #subaru x yui #yui x subaru #subayui #subayui fanfic #diabolik lovers fanfic #diabolik lovers fanfiction #diabolik lovers fandom

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kitchenisking · 2 years

Text

Part 3

Of Puppy Piles and Sugar Dreams by StarShineForMe - (Sterek Daddies & Little Isaac) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 37728, sterek)

In which Isaac and Scott get de-aged, the pack must learn to bond and protect their own, and Derek ("Dewek!") and Stiles ("Sti-ewes!") are mates...even if it takes them forever and two toddlers to realize it.

“Oh, God.” Stiles buries his face in his hands, water dripping down his wrists.

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Derek whips out a towel, wrapping it around Stiles’ forearms, pulling them away from Stiles’ body so he can look them over.

“I’m fine,” Stiles says, a little blankly. Erica and Boyd have set Issac and Scott back onto the floor, tickling them both into fits of giggles. He huffs out a noise that’s not quite a whimper, not quite a laugh. “Just wondering when the hell I ended up in my very own episode of ‘Teen Mom’.”

mercy comes with the morning by jacyevans - (Solstice) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5700, sterek)

“My people are dying,” Stiles says, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “The harvest yields no food. The hunters return to the village with no game. It’s been the same for the past three winters. We won’t survive another.”

A rumble of a sound escapes Derek's chest, like the rolling of thunder. “You wish to save your family.”

“No. I wish to save everyone.”

Derek moves towards him, feet making no sound, leaving no impressions in the dirt. “What do you offer in return for such a gift?”

Never make a deal with the gods, my little Mischief, his mother’s voice whispers in his ear. Not unless you intend to pay their price.

Unflinching, Stiles says, “Myself.”

Unsettled by ChellsBells (crash1212) - (We're Having a Baby, Bro) - (Rating: T, Words: 1301, sterek)

Stiles watches Game of Thrones, but one episode left a bad taste in his mouth and worried thoughts in his head.

Mpreg and established relationship in here, folks.

Blue Light (i'm waiting for it, that) by zanni_1 (zanni_scaramouche) - (In Your Eyes (the light, the heat)) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 19743, sterek)

Derek pays him to dance, Stiles enjoys the sex on the side, and that’s all that ties them together. Whatever else the enigmatic man does is none of Stiles’ fucking business.

Stiles works at a club owned by infamous Derek Hale, leader of the largest criminal organization this side of the country. As they twirl closer together police and rival gangs start to gain the upper hand, forcing everyone's loyalty to be questioned.

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter - ( I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 51937, sterek)

Stiles finds a baby on the porch.

It looks exactly like him.

Well, this is awkward.

Being Forbidden Would Make Even a Lemon Taste Sweet by Sallyasher1994 - (Forbidden Fruit) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 29412, sterek)

Stiles is your average gay sixteen year old High School student with a not so secret desire to shed himself of that pesky virginity. One night when Scott ditches him, Stiles is left alone with his older half brother who is grumpy and obnoxious and also ridiculously good looking he just might get the chance

One problem, Derek isn't just Scotts older brother, he's also his arch nemesis. Stiles should go home, but he's young and turns out Derek isn't that bad of a guy. Besides they're just hanging out right. right?

Not so good at summaries. Derek and Scott hate each other. Stiles is loyal to Scott but always thought Derek was super hot. Derek never thought about Stiles as anything other than the sometimes funny annoying kid Scott keeps bringing home until suddenly he isn't. cue drama.

Title I'm sure is a saying from somewhere but I can't remember where I heard it...

my favorite place is inside your hug by peachicicle - (Five Weddings and One Ours) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4803, sterek)

Stiles can sometimes be rude. He blames that on the socially awkward aspect of his personality. He doesn’t always know what to say or things to do in certain situations. Especially if the situation involves a hot, very pissed-off guy. But he’s never an asshole.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Stiles breathes out. “Yes, I’m not paying enough attention. It has been stressful the past few months with the wedding and all. I barely slept yesterday. I’m sorry.”

The guy's face softens. “That’s fine. Apologies accepted.”

They press close to each other right now. Stiles’ eyes keep traveling from the guy’s emerald eyes to his slightly tilted mouth, very kissable. Oh fuck, what is he thinking, he just met the guy five minutes ago and almost slam into his car and now Stiles wants to bang him? What is wrong with him?

-----

Derek and Stiles meet at a wedding, in the most unpredictable situation ever.

Best. Friends. Ever. by EvanesDust - (Stiles and Derek Sitting in a Tree, F U C- Whoa! Let's Not Be Inappropriate, mmmkay?) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2161, sterek)

“Sorry. I lost my friends. Or, I should say they left me,” Stiles says with a sigh.

“I can’t find my brother either—lost him in the crowd.”

“Oh. What’s he look like?” Stiles figures he might as well help her out since he can’t find his friends, anyway.

“Six feet tall, dark hair, green eyes…handsome, I guess.” She pulls out her phone and pulls up a picture of a man who looks to be around Stiles’s age. “Here, this is what he looks like. What about your friends? Maybe I’ve seen them.”

Stiles looks at the phone and gapes at the photo that’s displayed on the screen. To say her brother is handsome would be a tragic understatement. “Forget about them. Your brother’s more important. Shouldn’t let him wander around all alone.”

Stay by wyrmwolf - ( Believe It or Not, But Stiles Has A Hot Dom) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4083, sterek)

In which Stiles just wants to loose his virginity and goes to The Jungle to do just that. But instead gets himself a hot Dom and a werewolf boyfriend. Except, he just doesn’t know about the werewolf part. Yet.

Checkmate by Hella_Meyers - ( All The Right Moves) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4818, sterek)

Derek follows Stiles home from a date. He climbs in through Stiles' window and...

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #ficrec #fanfic #kitcheniskingficrecs #seriesficrec

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a-pale-azure-moon · 9 months

Text

I mentioned in the author's note of chapter 17 that I chopped out almost 5K words from it during editing (a case of my brain having way too many ideas). The lovely @rorah was interested in reading the cut content, and while most of it was simply deleted, I did save the largest whole chunk I removed. It's mostly just Dimitri talking about/gushing about his friends for almost 2K words, but there's some Dimileth bonding and some tiny world building bits in there too.

(The passages in the brackets were included in the final version, just moved or reworded from where they were in this chunk.)

{The next day, she coaxed him to the greenhouse despite his reluctance. She helped him clear away the detritus from his flowerbed and then prep the soil. The roots of the shrubs were still intact and would regrow with time and care, but the flowers all needed replanting.

“So each of your plants represents someone?” Byleth asked. Dimitri nodded as he removed the last of the debris. “Tell me about them. The people, I mean.”

He was quiet for a few moments as he raked around the edges of the witch hazel bush’s remains, gathering his thoughts.} “I planted this one for Mercedes. She was…a very kind soul, and a gifted healer. She appeared carefree on the surface, but she paid careful attention to everyone around her.” The faintest of smiles crossed his lips. “She was always the first to notice when someone had a problem or was hiding an injury. And she loved to bake sweets in her spare time. All of the pastry recipes I’ve made for you were hers, including your birthday cake.”

Byleth’s eyebrows shot up. So that was who had written those recipes in his cookbook. “Really? That’s amazing.”

Dimitri nodded. “She made the best version of the Kingdom’s traditional sweet buns I ever had. She made a whole pile of them for my birthday one year, and I confess that I ate so many I was too ill to train the next day.” He chuckled under his breath. “Gustave was quite upset with me.”

“Gustave?”

“Ah, he was the captain of the royal guard,” Dimitri said. “He trained three generations of the royal family in the art of combat and he was one of my father’s most trusted advisors.” He rummaged through the seed bag for the cyclamen bulb. “He was also Annette’s father.”

“I see,” Byleth said. “So you must have known her for a long time.”

“Yes. She didn’t come to the castle much until she joined my retinue, but I knew her well before then. She was almost like a little sister.” He remembered exactly where the cyclamen had been. He pointed to the spot and Byleth dug the hole. “She was the star student at the School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad. She was brilliant, cheerful and hardworking, though sometimes a little clumsy. She was always rushing about in the castle and she’d trip and crash into things. I think that may be why she and Mercedes were so close, so she could heal Annette’s bruises.”

Byleth smiled. She watched as he planted the bulb. “Was the School of Sorcery anything like the Academy?”

“Yes and no.” Dimitri’s forehead wrinkled as he thought. “Like the Academy, the School of Sorcery was heralded as the preeminent educational institution in the Kingdom. However, unlike the Academy, it was free for anyone to attend no matter their station.”

“Free?” She could hardly believe that, considering the steep tuition she’d paid to come to the Academy.

“My great-grandmother oversaw an expansion of the school, creating several branches of it in other parts of the Kingdom,” he said. “Bringing educational opportunities to the masses was a long-term goal, one that the Saints were helping with. It’s hard to encourage a farmer to send his children to school when he needs their help working the land.”

“Right.”

“I often used to sneak out of the castle and take walks through Fhirdiad in disguise. My father always reprimanded me for it when I got caught, but…” Dimitri paused, a faint blush spreading on his face. “This will sound ridiculous, but I wanted to see how the people truly lived. I wanted to hear the things they were discussing, witness their struggles and know what they needed without them knowing they were speaking to their prince. I thought it would help me better understand how to serve them.”

Byleth felt a pang in her chest. {He truly loved his kingdom and its people. He would've been a magnificent king. It filled her with both grief and fury that his throne had been usurped and Fódlan had been deprived of his compassionate leadership.} “I don’t think that’s ridiculous at all. I think Faerghus was lucky to have you as its prince.”

His blush deepened. When she said things like that, so quickly and with such surety, he almost felt like he could believe it himself.

“What about this one?” She pointed to the remains of the winterberry bush.

“That one was for Sylvain. He was from House Gautier, which was responsible for defending the border with Sreng. He was a highly capable person, talented in many fields, but he was reluctant to apply himself to his full potential. Well, except for one. He had a penchant for…skirt chasing.”

Byleth raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“I spoke about it with him often, but it never seemed to help. He usually tried to recruit me on one of his escapades instead.” Dimitri shook his head fondly. “He made jokes about almost everything, but despite his foolishness, Sylvain was one of the most loyal and brave people I knew. He never hesitated to help a friend in need and he…” He swallowed. “He died protecting the rest of us.”

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s OK.”

Dimitri nodded, inhaling and exhaling slowly. He pulled a snowdrop bulb out of the bag. “This one is for Ingrid. She strove to be the ideal knight. She was industrious, diligent, principled…really, everything a knight should be. She came from House Galatea, which was famed for raising pegasi, and Ingrid was a spectacularly skilled flier.”

“Pegasi.” Byleth’s eyes twinkled. “I’ve never even seen a pegasus in person. I’ve always wanted to ride one.”

“They were common in the Kingdom but the Empire has always preferred wyverns. I suppose wyverns are better known for their strength and tend to be less fussy about who rides them. Ingrid always said earning the trust of a pegasus was harder than earning the trust of a horse.” He patted the soil over the snowdrop bulb. “She told me she had two dreams in life. One was to serve in my retinue, and the other was to be the equal of her fiancee, Glenn.”

“Glenn was another friend of yours, I assume?”

“Yes.” Dimitri pulled out the bulbs for the crocuses. “Glenn and his younger brother Felix were the sons of Duke Rodrigue, who was my father’s dearest friend. Their ancestor, Kyphon, was the original pact-bearer to Saint Fraldarius, who was said to be the sister closest to Saint Blaiddyd. Her Relic was the Aegis Shield, symbolizing her desire to protect Loog’s descendants.”

“So your families were close to each other right from the Kingdom’s founding.”

He nodded. “Glenn was like an older brother to us all, always looking out for us and lending us a hand when it was needed. He did like to joke and play pranks, and he had a sarcastic wit, but he took his duty to protect the Kingdom very seriously. He was knighted at an early age and achieved his dream of being my father’s Shield right as the war started. Rodrigue gave him the Aegis Shield the last day I saw them in Fhirdiad.”

Byleth dug two holes next to each other for the bulbs. “He sounds like a true knight. What about his brother? You said Felix was a member of your retinue, if I recall.”

“Felix was every bit his brother’s equal, though he didn’t believe that himself. He never could defeat Glenn in a duel despite his many attempts.” Dimitri smiled faintly. “Felix had a sharp tongue and a low tolerance for jokes and levity. He wanted to be the strongest swordsman in the Kingdom without question and he sought out challenging opponents so he could test himself. Sylvain used to liken him to a hissing cat constantly looking to start a fight.” His smile grew a little wider at her amused snort. “But underneath all of that, he was very kind and cared deeply for his family and friends and wanted to use his strength to protect them.”

{Byleth couldn’t help but notice that protection and duty were recurring themes whenever she heard anything about Faerghus. She got the sense that supporting and helping one another was an inherent virtue in the Kingdom, and it was such a stark contrast to how the Empire belabored ideals of merit and self-reliance.}

After he planted the crocuses, Dimitri raked a patch in front of all of the bulbs and then carefully spread a handful of seeds. “Which flowers are those?” she asked.

“Violets,” he said. “They weren’t common far up north, but they were Ashe’s favorite flower. He said they grew in the gardens of Castle Gaspard, and he planted some when he came to live in Fhirdiad to serve in my retinue.”

“What was Ashe like?”

“He had an extremely earnest personality and was the best marksman I’ve ever met. He loved chivalric tales and was enthusiastic about becoming a knight, though he wasn’t always comfortable in the castle despite his many talents and constant hard work.” Dimitri sighed. “Ashe was born a commoner and lived as a street urchin for a time before he was adopted by Lord Lonato. Even after suffering such hardship, he was still so cheerful and kind. I…deeply admired that about him.”

Byleth thought the same applied to Dimitri, minus the cheerful part perhaps, but she refrained from saying so for the moment. She checked the bag and brought out a strip of linen that was carefully folded over itself. “What are these?” she asked.

Something lit up in his eyes, a flicker of pride at one of his greatest achievements. “These are hellebore seeds,” he said as he took the packet, handling it like it was made of glass. “This flower is almost extinct now. They are native to Duscur.”

“Duscur?” She’d never heard the name before.

“When the Kingdom existed, Duscur was the name of the peninsula at the northern tip of Fódlan,” Dimitri said. “It was separated from the Kingdom by a mountain range, and the people native to there had different customs, culture and even a different language. They were an important trade partner and ally. I only had the honor of visiting it once, when I was child. My father brought me along on a diplomatic mission so I could meet its leaders.” He raked a spot alongside the violets. “Glenn had just been knighted a few weeks prior to the trip, and he was assigned as my guard. He broke his favorite sword in a sparring match, and I tagged along when he went in search of a blacksmith to repair it. That was how I met Dedue.”

“He was the blacksmith?”

“The son of the blacksmith.” Dimitri smiled at the memory. “He didn’t speak much Fódlanese, and my knowledge of Duscur’s language was quite limited, but we still managed to strike up a conversation. He didn’t realize I was the prince until one of the royal guards came to the smithy looking for Glenn, and Dedue was mortified that he’d spoken with me as an equal. I had to repeatedly reassure him that I was grateful for his candor.”

Byleth smiled. “And that’s how you became friends?”

“Yes. We sent many letters back and forth to each other in the years that followed, before he joined my retinue. In doing so, we helped teach our different languages to each other. It was…one of the most valuable relationships I forged as a boy, for many reasons.” He carefully spread the hellebore seeds. “Dedue was taciturn, but he was a kind and noble soul and a loyal friend. He taught me everything I know about flowers and gardening, and he was an unrivaled cook. He even taught some things to the castle chefs in Fhirdiad.” He paused, looking at the tiny seeds in the soil as they shimmered in his vision. “Dedue…was the last to fall. He all but lifted me onto my horse and bade me to flee while he stayed behind to face countless monsters alone.”

#my writing #swst #dimileth #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth eisner #dimitri x byleth #shameless self promotion #cut content

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peachyhoneyadventures · 8 months

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1, 10, and 19 for Rosamund if you have the time!

I absolutely do have the time!

1.) Which areas of Skyrim do they find most beautiful and most dangerous?

I think it comes as no surprise that Rosamund finds the Rift to be the most beautiful. She enjoys the trees and the abundance of bears and other animals around, seeing them as potential friends and allies. She'll sometimes gather leaves into a pile and just play in the leaves with Pumpkin.

As much as she appreciates the beauty of the Reach, Rosamund hates walking through there without Edolisse since she's afraid of the Forsworn attacking her and her friends. She also vehemently hates climbing and is terribly afraid of heights.

10.) Are they a part of any factions, guilds, or organizations?

Rosamund is an informal member of the College of Winterhold, having been standing next to Edolisse at the time she was taking the entrance exam. She got along with teachers and students, but clearly was more interested in adventures than magic lessons.

It isn't until after Edolisse becomes the Arch-Mage is Rosamund considered a full member of the College.

19.) How are they with money? Do they hoard, or do they spend until their pockets are empty and they have to find work again? Have they saved for any houses?

Rosamund is the closest thing the Wickham family has to an impulse buyer. Which isn't saying much considering that she doesn't really spent her money that frivolously. She just likes sweet rolls and mead and believes she deserves a little treat always.

She never lets herself run out of money and usually carries a minimum of 250 gold on her at all times.

Rosamund did eventually save up enough to buy Honeyside, which ends up being the place that Inigo stays because of his love for the Rift.

#skyrim oc ask game #skyrim ocs #elder scrolls ocs #oc: rosamund wickham #oc: pumpkin the bear #tes v skyrim #tesblr #curechocolattymilk

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goldencuffs · 3 years

Text

untraditional

@lamenweek day five: traditions

Damen doesn’t think he’s supposed to feel so bone-weary at thirty-one.

Everything in his body aches, and he’s already greying at his temples. Last night, he had gone to bed at eight.

Theomedes doesn’t look up from the Ios Financial Times when Damen enters the Drawing Room. The table already has been set: Damen’s seat is, as usual, is to the left of his father, exactly fourty-seven centimetres apart. Damen’s food has been already served, because his father got here before him, and everyone gets served the same time as Theomedes.

Damen’s entire life has been dictated by these traditions, guidelines and precedents.

Some of them are good, but most of them are like this: nonsensical and elitist.

Even Theomedes’ and Damianos’ tea is prepared via strict protocol: one teaspoon of loose tea leaves per cup, heated to a hundred degrees celcius (seventy for green tea), with a tablespoon of organic, raw honey added straight to the teapot.

(It’s amazing tea, though).

Theomedes says, “Your food is cold.”

Damen stares at the pile of mash potatoes and salmon. “I’m not hungry.”

He also hates salmon, but Theomedes is the only one who sets the menu for the week with the head chef. Last week, they had roast beef and vegetables four times.

“You’re not still sulking are you?” Theomedes finally says, three minutes later.

Damen grips his table fork. He forces himself to do the breathing exercises Makedon had taught him.

In an ideal world, he wouldn’t reply, but in this one, everyone answered to the King.

“No, sir,” Damen says, and shoves a polite bite of food in his mouth.

“You haven’t had a meal with me in three weeks,” Theomedes says, and he sounds hurt and disappointed.

“Hmm,” Damen says. “I’ve been busy. You know I’ve been working on the preservation of Marlas with Nikandros.”

Theomedes crosses his fork and knife over his plate. Instantly, three different staff members rush forward to clear the table.

Damen’s plate is cleared too; no one eats after the King has left. Another useless, bane tradition.

“You know I did what’s best for you,” Theomedes says, looming over Damen.

When Damen nods, Theomedes kisses his temple. “You’ll realise it sooner, rather than later.”

“Yes, sir,” Damen says quietly, and rises only after Theomedes has left, as is protocol.

An hour later, the itch under Damen’s skin becomes unbearable, and he finds himself burrowing under the left corner of his mattress for certain… supplies.

He pulls on the red, shoulder-length curly wig with little care, and then the faux-leather beret. It’s peeling and terrible, but Damen doesn’t care.

The rest of his outfit is just layers: sunglasses, two coats, scarves, and a muted shirt, to hide as much of his body as possible.

He normally doesn’t leave so early in the day, when he’s being patrolled by guards and the Kyros.

Luckily, it’s only Nikandros who catches him, right outside his door.

His expression is flat. “You’re not serious. You’re leaving now? We’re in the middle of drafting the Delpha treaty!”

Damen shrugs. “I have to go.”

“You don’t have to—” Nikandros cuts himself off with a sigh. “Whatever. Can you please bring me back those caramel slices?”

Damen grins. “You got it, boss.”

Once he’s past the Main Foyer, the rest of the journey is easy: Damen takes an hour and a half train ride from Central Ios to Andris, and then a fifteen minute bus ride on the eighty-six. And then finally, an eight minute walk to the Andris Office District.

There’s a small bookstore there called Pocket Bookmark, painted emerald green, the lettering done in gold.

Inside, it’s not too busy: it’s not quite the end of a business day, and the customers in here are high school students, skimming the Shakespeare section, and a man hovering near the new releases.

Damen keeps his head down, weaving through the aisles.

Nicaise, the mouthy teenage cashier rolls his eyes when he sees Damen approaching, lifting up the wooden flap on on the bench, allowing Damen to duck through.

“Thanks, kid,” Damen says, mussing his hair.

“Ah, fuck off,” Nicaise grunts, but fondly. He’s warmed up to Damen ever since Damen bought him his first car. (Nothing too flashy, obviously).

Damen hurries all the way to the back, opening the door marked, No entry, and then goes up the narrow steps, which always make the worst creaking noises.

There’s another door a the small porch upstairs, and Damen fishes out the key in his pocket to open it.

Instantly, he’s hit with the smell of butter chicken simmering on the stove, and his mouth salivates. He dumps his entire attire by the small settee in the hallway, inhaling gratefully.

The second thing he’s greeted with is Wendy, who meows and claws at his leg.

“Come here, baby,” Damen murmurs, picking her up and holding her to his chest. She purrs and curls up, like a big ball of fluff and he kisses her head. “I love you so much.”

She meows in response, and snuggles closer.

Laurent turns off the stove in the tiny kitchen. He looks over his shoulder for just a second and scrunches his nose. “Ugh, she’s such a slut. I’ve been petting her for the last hour, but apparently I’m just not good enough.”

Laurent is in his after work attire: which means he’s as half dressed as possible. The shirt he’s wearing is one of Damen’s, and his shorts are the pair that shrunk in the wash; they ride too high up his thigh.

Laurent’s just come out of the shower: the hair at his nape is still wet, and his skin is pinked and glowing. Even with the curry, Damen can smell jasmine and coconut.

Laurent has got this sweet, soft smile that lights up his eyes.

It takes Damen’s breath away: not just Laurent, but this entire picture of domesticity. It’s all Damen’s wanted his entire life.

He means to make a snarky comment about Wendy, but what comes out is: “Marry me.”

Laurent drops the wooden spoon, eyes wide.

Damen grips Wendy too tightly and she lets out a shriek and jumps out of his arms.

They stare at each other for a moment. Damen’s heart is racing.

Laurent blinks. “Oh, sorry. I think I hallucinated for a minute.”

Damen steps forward, smiling. “It wasn’t a hallucination. Marry me.”

Laurent makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “Are you asking me or telling me?” He swallows, eyes darting all over Damen’s face, his body. “I don’t see a ring,” he says quietly.

Damen groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Shit, I know. I had this whole plan, I was going to propose with the Queen’s ring, but obviously I’d have to talk to my father first and—” He sits down at the kitchen table, pulling out his phone. “There’s a courthouse ten minutes from here. It’s Thursday night, so they’re still open. We just need to show up with a signed ‘Intended Marriage Certificate’. It’s like three pages, we’ll be fine.”

“…Oh.” Laurent has gone very still. “You’re looking up courthouses. You’re serious.”

“Shit,” Damen says, watching him. “I’m so sorry. You—Do you want to marry me, Laurent? Because I’ve been dying to marry you since I first saw you. Er. No pressure, though.”

Laurent glares at him, affronted. “Of course I want to marry you, you fucking idiot!”

Damen leaps to his feet, grinning and flushed. “Fuck yeah! Let’s go print this form and—”

“Damen!” Laurent laughs, looking a little crazed. “We can’t just—Just wait a minute.”

“Alright. Shoot, baby.”

Predictably, Laurent flushes pink. “Is it even legal? Aren’t there special ceremonies for royals? And—and the King still thinks we broke up!”

Damen winces a little at that.

After an entire year of sneaking around, of meeting up in discreet hotels, and making plans to move in together one day, Damen had fucked up three weeks ago.

Drunk and enamoured, he had kissed Laurent outside his bookstore after a date. There had been photos—and the only saving grace had been the fact that Laurent’s face had been inscrutable.

But the fact that he was a commoner had been enough for Theomedes to unleash his rage. He had ordered Damen to break things off with Laurent, and Damen had pretended to, but… Well, Laurent had been hurt. It had been the first time he had realised how shaky their entire relationship was, how quickly it could come crumbling down.

Damen had spent days convincing him otherwise, and Laurent had finally agreed, but there had still been shadows in his eyes.

Now—now, though, Damen realises exactly what he can do, what he should have done months ago, to make Laurent realise he’s it.

“Fuck the King,” Damen says. He finally closes the distance between them, gripping Laurent’s hands. “Laurent, listen. I can still get married legally in a civil ceremony.”

“But—” Laurent bites his lip. “I don’t want you to get into trouble. And,” His voice grows small. “I know there’s so many rules and traditions you have to follow. I’ve read about the whole tradition where your father is supposed to gift you a diptych piece.”

Damen’s heart is warm. He smiles down at Laurent, smitten. “You’ve read up on royal wedding traditions?”

Laurent colours even more. “Of course.”

Damen kisses him hard, unable to bare the love swelling up inside him. Laurent flings his arms around Damen’s neck, his mouth emitting small, sweet gasps.

When they pull apart, Damen presses his forehead to Laurent’s. “Fuck the King,” he repeats. “Fuck the customs and rules and traditions. You are the only thing that matters to me. Just forget everything for a moment and answer: do you want to go downtown and marry me?”

Laurent’s smile overtakes his face, his eyes shining. “Yes,” he says softly. “I want to—so much.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you in a better way or give you a ring or—”

“Stop. This was absolutely perfect.” He sighs. “You’re perfect.”

Damen kisses him again, pressing him to the counter. “I want you to have my mother’s ring.”

Laurent buries his head into Damen’s chest, overwhelmed. He nods.

Damen drops a kiss to his hair. “Get changed, baby. We’re getting married.”

Laurent looks up at him in wonder. “We’re getting married.”

#yes this is rushed what about it!!!!! 🤧😤#just kidding i still hope u enjoy #lamen week 2021 #captive prince #my writing #my fic

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

#twice x reader #twice x you #jin bubaigawara x reader #bee writes #bnha fanfiction #college au #library!twice x student!reader #twice mha #bee.writes

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insomniac-dot-ink · 3 years

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Is it wrong to lie to children?

A personal essay on reconciling with a shitty childhood and the question: is it wrong to lie to children?

It’s perplexing to have a shitty “unorthodox” childhood because initially I tried to throw out everything about It. Toss out the plumping and the rafters and the roofing, dispense of every single part of my upbringing I could get my hands on and not look back. Naturally, this approach didn’t work. It wasn’t even a real possibility. You’re still haunted by it, a ghost in the bones of a house, a foundation that remains long after the builders have left. That’s part of recovery too, to look at that ghost, to look at those bones, and keep saying: I see you, I see. I let you in. You sit with it and accept, accept, accept.

The really terrible part of this, the part where I don’t throw away the baby with the bathwater, is that you then have to raise the thing, deal with it. You have to do the hard work of parsing through the endless bits of self and placing them in “keep” piles and “discard” piles. I want to keep my mother’s kindness. I want to keep my father’s sense of humor. I want to discard the isolation. I want to discard the delusions.

But then there are these weird . . . “I don’t know” things. The things I am unsure if they helped me or hurt me. As I’ve gotten older I’ve gotten more and more of those “I don’t know” categories piling up. I’ve worked my way through most of the more obvious ones and now it’s all grey and mushy and as cloudy as a London winter. Recently, more than anything, I’ve been grappling with the fact my mother believed it was wrong to lie to children. She believed, in her flower-child way, that it was unethical in all forms.

I never believed in Santa Claus. I’m sorry to say I was a pretty obnoxious kid too because I would preach on the playground about how there was no Santa and there had never been any Santa. Which was a bit harsh, but in my defense I was under the impression these people were suffering from some sort of collective mass delusion. They were being lied to. And lying was wrong.

Is it wrong to lie to children?

I’ve known about sex since I was around 5 years old. I don’t remember why I asked, but it was something about where babies come from and so on. Most parents talk about a stork or love or some other abstract side-step. My mother described the anatomy to me and showed me a scientific diagram of the process. She told me that a sperm meets an egg and fertilizes it so the baby can grow. I learned most of this in scientific terms and was surprised when none of my middle school friends knew how a penis worked.

Is it wrong to lie to children?

When I was 9 or so our cat was eaten by a coyote. I asked my mom where he went and she said that he accidently got out the night before. She said they looked for him all morning, but it was too late. She didn’t use the word “gone” or “passed on” or “he’s in a better place now.”

She said he was dead. I said oh. She asked if I wanted to see him. I said yes. For the record, I am not actually sure if 9 year-olds should see corpses. That is neither here nor there. It was something that stuck with me though, the body of my cat with his tummy ripped out. I had never seen intestines before. His eyes were open.

But there was something cathartic about digging the grave. About helping pick up his little stiff body by the feet and placing him inside. There was something about piling on the red dirt as the sun set and letting the tears fall.

People on sitcoms hate talking about death. It’s understandable, it’s not funny, it makes for good dramatic irony when the kid asks “Where’s Socks?” and the parents go “Uuuuuh. He ran away.” I’ve never felt more alienated at those points. My cat died. He was eaten. I saw his body, and I buried it. Sometimes I think I wouldn’t want to be told he ran away-- that he had a choice in whether or not he left me.

Is it wrong to lie to children?

For a long time I thought the entirety of my childhood was wrong and bad, because I was miserable and broken at the end of it. I will assure you, my parents fucked up time and time again. But sometimes I have to stop and keep asking: Was this the wrong part? Was this the part where they fucked up? Was any part of this valuable? It’s a hard process to comb through an entire life and decide which bits are worth keeping, and if there are any silver linings.

So here is one: I am an honest person. I am a crooked person too, unsure of where to place my feet in social situations, picking my way through others normalcy. I do not readily share information, I am not forthcoming, and it’s a slow burn for me to open up about anything.

However, I notice time and time again that strangers will share personal things with me. I don’t mean for it to happen, but there’s just this pattern in my life. I once went on a car ride with a girl I barely know from my debate team. She described how she wanted to lose her virginity, she wanted it, but was scared God would be angry. That she’d be dirty afterwards. I told her that that was impossible, sex was just an act, it had no eyes, it had no priestly robes, or bearing on her soul. She cried. She said she hadn’t told me anyone this before.

I had a friend in high school who was struggling with an eating disorder, people had tried to get her to talk about it before, but I was the first person she admitted it to. In the hallway, sitting, just discussing nothing, and out it comes: I’m scared to eat sometimes. I was on a city bus and an old woman struck up a conversation with me. Over an hour or so, and she ended up telling me her fears for her own daughter going away to college. Her fear of growing old and passing on. Her problems with sleeping as she lay awake and dreaded it.

People have told me about their problems with substance abuse, their struggles with sexuality, and childhood trauma. People spill to me and I sit there thinking: Why? Sometimes I think it’s my gender or just how people are, but it always feels like I’m missing some part of the picture. Why do people open up to me, unprompted, all at once? Why me?

Is it wrong to lie to children?

Recently, I was reading a memoir set in 2001 where two young kids ask the narrator, their mother, about 9/11. They asked what happened to the people on television who were jumping off the building. Where did they go? The mother says this: They were caught. There are people-catchers that flew and saved them. Everyone is okay.

This story was meant to be heartfelt and lyrical, relatable. It ended like this: It is the job of mothers to offer gentle lies.

I had to stop reading because I was suddenly lost in a white-hot rage, unexpected, knee-jerk. How could she do that? I found myself frothing. They trusted her with answers and she lied. How could she? I knew it was irrational. It was silly even. This was a sweet story. It was meant to be heart-warming and framed in a way that suggested this is what all mothers do. This was what they needed to do.

I felt my own mother, pumping through my veins, furious that these elementary school students were being betrayed. I stopped myself of course, I knew it wasn’t reasonable. I wasn’t raised “correctly.” I had no legs to stand on.

But still, is it alright to lie to children?

I am once again faced with that unending dilemma: how to throw-out those parts of myself that don’t work and keep the ones that do. It’s difficult to say, because in some ways I agree with my mom. How can I not? But death is cruel. Sex is weird. Santa Claus is a beautiful lie.

And what’s wrong with lying? I still don’t know. What’s wrong with letting them never hurt? Never knowing the pain or gross parts of the world? What’s the harm in letting them make-believe?

But sometimes I think about all those people who have cried to me. All these unprompted confessions come with an unspoken plea: I hurt. I am afraid. I am so scared. It’s all so heavy, these painful truths.

And some part of me stands there, the part my mother raised and says: there is nothing in this life that is too shameful. There is nothing in this world that is unnatural. There is nothing in this life to lie about, even to children.

Is death too painful? Is sex too gross? Would you tell an adult that a man lives in the North Pole and watches them?

I asked my mom, years later, when I was less furious and able to talk with her again without screaming, about why she believed all this. She had told me about it since I was very young, but I never asked why. She shrugged. She said: children are people, aren’t they?

I still don’t know what to do with this.

Children are people, but they are not adults. They shouldn’t be exposed to “adult” things, right? But is that line so concrete? Is the word “adult” just a mask for the greater word, the one we really mean? We all agree: honesty is good. Lying hurts. But it’s alright to lie to kids, because in many ways they aren’t people yet, they aren’t people yet, they don’t count.

I am admittedly an argumentative person. I was on the debate team, mock trial, United Nations, I studied political science in college and fought with every single one of my professors I thought was wrong. And I stood in that playground, age 6, and told every single one of my classmates Santa wasn’t real and I wouldn’t stop. The truth was important. And my mother, no matter what, thought I disserved it.

I often felt tiny and powerless as a kid. Terrified and holding myself together by shoestrings. I often felt there would be nothing better in the world than to be grown up. Not for the money or the dating or the job, I just wanted to feel like the hurricane would end. That one day I could stand on solid ground again. My friend often says: I wish I could be a kid again, ya know? No responsibilities. Just bliss. I want to be a kid again.

I can’t relate. I never have. I’ve been busy weeding through the pipes and lighting and the carpentry of my upbringing and asking myself: is any of this worth keeping? Is any part of me built correctly? There are no right answers.

But still, I am haunted. I sit and ask myself in circles: is it alright to lie to children?

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#personal essay #nonfiction #creative nonfiction #writers on tumblr #story time

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 3 years

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in which harry doesn’t like halloween until a certain pair of trick or treaters knock on his door.

a/n: HAPPY HARRYWEEN EVERYONE! personally don’t like halloween myself, but I hope everyone has a spooky and fun day (indoors, ofc)! here’s my first halloween piece that was meant to be a blurb, but turned out a little longer than expected, enjoy!

thank you to ira @stylesloveclub & cait @sweetcreatureinthedark for reading this over! <3

enjoy 5k words of teacher/dad!harry being cute

warnings: brief mention of death, mostly fluff

LETS TALK ABOUT PEBBLES & THE SCARECROW IN MY INBOX! pls let me know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

Harry wasn’t fond of Halloween, if he’s being honest.

The thought of people putting on scary masks, scaring little kids out of their driveway is something that was so unsettling to him. The scary movies that always release around the month of October that promoted their commercials, causing him to startle on the couch because of the jump scare was not something he looked forward to every year. Especially when those said movies would have their ad on the radio, which makes it even scarier because he could only listen. He would usually have his Bluetooth on with his own music playing, but when it’s only a five minute drive, he doesn’t bother with the Bluetooth. Either way, he doesn’t like it.

Halloween is not fun, he would say every year.

However, the upside to the month of October was something he looked forward to because that’s when the weather really changed. September would be sunny and hot still, but then comes around October and the sun would peek behind the clouds as the weather got colder. The leaves would fall from their branches and onto the ground, loving the sound of the crunchy leaves beneath his feet, especially building a pile and jumping into them. Not alone, of course, but with his baby girl who loved to just squeal and laugh at her dad whenever he would jump into the pile of orange leaves that he collected on their front lawn.

Wynn, his daughter, also loved the change of fall weather just as much as he did. Harry would hype it up so much because October was the start of holiday season, and he loved being in a festive mood. So, naturally, Wynn picked up on his behavior and was just like her dad; jumping up and down when he would get excited.

Another thing that he liked about Halloween was that he got to pass out candy to the fellow trick or treaters to all the students in the school during their Halloween bash, and to the kids in his friendly neighborhood. Every year, he would buy plenty of candy for the students—sometimes buying too much because he didn’t want anyone to be left out when they would walk up to him. But if he did have extra, he would save them for later that night for the kids in the neighborhood.

He loved seeing the students’ reactions when he would tell them that they had a cool costume. He especially loved it when the kids would compliment his own costume. Some teachers didn’t really like to dress up on Halloween as they only wore a headband of some sorts or a festive t-shirt, but Harry liked to go all out. He’s been teaching for six years, and every year, he made sure to join in on the fun. One of his favorite costumes was when he dressed up as Peter Pan and Wynn was Tinker Bell. They always coordinated costumes, and Harry hoped that once she gets older, she would never stop wanting to match with him, but he knows that’s inevitable; he’ll just hold onto these moments for now. That was one of his favorites because Wynn just loved her costume so much that she didn’t want to take it off, so seeing her so happy in her princess dress just made his heart burst.

But this year, he thinks he’s topped the previous years.

As he said goodbye to Wynn, dropping her off at her class, he greeted her first grade teacher.

“Oh! Don’t you both look absolutely adorable!” Mrs. Robin, an old lady who had been teaching for years and retiring this school year, said.

“Thank you, Mrs. Robin. Think this year is my favorite,” Harry said, looking down at Wynn as she nodded her small head at him. Harry was dressed as Fred Flinstone and Wynn was Pebbles. He thought she was the absolute cutest, and he even did her hair the same way in the morning, but instead of a bone, he replaced it with a white bow.

“You two always have the loveliest costumes!” Harry looked down at Wynn, raising his eyebrows at her to say thank you, and she looked at her teaching, thanking her.

“Anyways, I gotta go get my class from their line. I’ll see you later at the bash,” he told Mrs. Robin. He bent down, meeting Wynn’s eye level. “Be good, okay?” His daughter nodded. “I’ll see you later. Make sure you say hi to me,” he reminded her. “Love you, bunches.”

“Love you, tons,” the little girl replied, and he gave her forehead a kiss before she wrapped his arms around his shoulders, giving him a hug. They’ve always been inseparable, and Harry had separation anxiety whenever they part even if it’s just a little bit. And as much as he loves how much his daughter loves him, he hoped that she doesn’t suffer from it as well—although, he thinks it’s starting to begin. He couldn’t help it—he was an affectionate person and always loved to give her hugs and kisses, to which she would give them back.

Harry quickly walked to his classroom, putting his belongings and the bags of candy down before walking out to pick up his class. Harry taught the third grade, and they were a smart bunch. He loved how it was in between sweet and cuteness, but also watching them grow. He thinks fourth and fifth grade was when they started to become too sassy and dramatic, so he liked being in between.

“Hi, everyone! Happy Halloween!” He greeted, and his class cheered, some of his students telling him that he looked so cool, and Harry said thank you to them as he complimented them back. “Everyone follows me in a straight line. Don’t stop walking, don’t stray, don’t turn around, and please be sure to keep all hands and feet inside of the vehicle, got it?” They all nodded. “Alright, enjoy the ride, here we go!” He started walking as he smiled. He came up with that line when he was in his second year of teaching as he wanted his class to have fun while going into the classroom, so he acted like it was a rollercoaster, and the kids seemed to love it.

When they got inside the classroom, the kids took their seats at their desk. Harry told them that they had to do a quick lesson before the Halloween bash, earning a groan throughout the classroom.

“I know, I know. But it’ll be quick! And then we’ll all have fun after. Unless you all would prefer I teach the lesson after the bash and after lunch?” He asked, knowing what the answer would be. Usually on Halloween, they would have a lesson, the bash, lunch, and Harry would put on a movie as he passed out treats to fill in the rest of the day before the school day ended. Their heads shook as Harry chuckled. “I figured,” he said before he started the quick lesson on reading.

The lesson only lasted thirty minutes, just in time to head out to the bash. All the classrooms were filing out to the courts, which was the larger area of the school that could fit all eighteen classrooms. The classrooms form a single line all around the three basketball courts, and each class would walk around in a single file line with their bags in hand as the teachers would pass out candy. Music would play and some of the staff would dress into one of those big floaty costumes to jump around in and entertain the other classes who were patiently waiting. The parents were allowed to join as well if they had the time to see their kids in cute costumes; the more the merrier.

Harry’s class stood in their designated spot, having them line up, and he walked around to check if anyone got left behind, which no one did. The music started and classroom number one was instructed to do their lap, which were the kindergarten classes. Harry was classroom number eleven, so he got his big bowl of candy ready as the first class started to walk around. He saw some really fun costumes; one student was the sun and their friend was the moon, which he thought was so adorable. Once the class before the next was halfways, the next class was instructed to go.

It went by fairly smoothly, although he could tell that some students were bored, which was understandable. Harry waited for Wynn’s class, in which she was in classroom number six, the last one of the first grade class. He spotted her in her bright green polka dot shirt and tortoise pants—she looked so adorable. He got his phone out when her class was close enough, taking a video of her at the same time as passing out candy.

“Hi, Daddy!” She greeted, reaching up to hug him.

“Oh, you’re the cutest. Hi, bubba,” he said as he hugged her back. The embrace was so sweet that he didn’t want to let go, and he didn’t until Wynn said something.

“Uh, daddy, I gotta go now.” He snapped out of it, and saw that her class was onto the next two classes. He let go of her before kissing her cheek, saying see you later.

The rest of the Halloween day went by smoothly. It was quite cold out, so the teachers were allowed to have the students eat inside if they wanted to.

By the end of the day, he picked Wynn up from the front before he made sure his entire class was picked up safely.

“Did you have fun?” Harry asked Wynn once he saw her.

“Yeah! Look at all the candy!” She showed him her bag full of sweets.

“Wow! Alright, let’s get home and sort through the ones you want and don’t want. Gonna have to pick fifteen,” he told her and she pouted. He hated that pout, even though it was adorable, it was a dangerous pout that had Harry almost give in, but he had to be the strong parent. “Sorry, pretty. Thems the rules. Last year I gave you ten, so I bumped it up by five.”

“Alright…” she trailed off, and Harry chuckled.

Before they left, he quickly caught Mrs. Robin before she walked away. “Oh, by the way, Mrs. Robin. Do you mind taking a picture of us? Realized I forgot to take one this morning.”

“Of course, dear! Harry unlocked his phone and opened the camera up before handing it to her. She pointed the camera towards them as she snapped a few pictures of them. They were smiling brightly at the camera before Harry picked Lynn up, so they were the same height. “Here you are. Have a lovely Halloween, you two.” Mrs. Robin bid them goodbye as they both waved. Harry looked at the pictures, seeing that they were blurry and some of them had her finger in the lens. Harry brushed it off, chuckling to himself as he’ll figure out how you two will get a picture later.

They headed to the car and on their way home to continue the fun with by getting and passing out more candy.

The cold 5 p.m evening was relaxing and quiet as there weren’t many trick or treaters out just yet, only the little ones that needed to get their candy early in order to be back before bedtime.

And that’s what you were doing with your three year old. You asked Penelope if she wanted to go and get candy, and just the sound of candy coming out from mommy’s mouth was music to her tiny ears, so she nodded her head.

“Go now?” She asked, and you looked at the time as it was almost five in the evening.

“Yeah! We can’t stay long because it’s gonna be cold and I don’t want you to get sick,” you told her.

“No, I don’t want sick,” Penelope shook her head no.

“Yeah, me either. I’ll bring a jacket just in case, don’t worry,” you reassured her, and she smiled.

The jacket didn’t take long to put on. Once you felt the breeze rush through you, blowing away some of the leaves from the ground as Penelope was stomping on them, you immediately put her burnt orange teddy bear coat on over her scarecrow brown dress. You left the hood off since she was wearing a pointy black hat with a sunflower attached to it, which kept falling off everytime she jumped a little too much, might you add. So, you kept having to pick it up and put it back on her.

You two had visited five houses so far, all houses being so lovely to Penelope as they complimented how adorable she was. Now, you were walking towards the next house when you suggested you go across the street since some of the other houses had signs already prepared saying ‘no candy!’

Penelope usually went with the flow, so she agreed as you two walked across the street and decided to just complete the entire block before walking back home before it got too cold and too late.

“Go on, baby,” you encouraged her to knock on the black door. She ended up slapping the door with her open palm because she said knocking was hurting her hand. You waited at the bottom of the stairs for the owner of the house to open the door, and Penelope waited thirty seconds before she turned around with a pout on her face. “Don’t think they’re home yet. Lets go to the next one!” You said enthusiastically, hoping to lift her frown. She walked down the brick stairs as you reached out for her hand to hold.

As you made it down the walkway and onto the sidewalk, you heard the door open frantically, making you turn around from the sudden noise and from a man calling out for you.

“Wait, wait! I have candy!” The man ran down the walkway in a Fred Flinstone costume with a bucket of candy. You chuckled a bit because never did you imagine Fred himself was chasing after you. He was a very attractive man and he pulled the Flinstone costume quite well. “Sorry, I, uh, was just getting changed into my costume. I’m sorry it took so long. I didn’t realize people would be out trick or treating so early,” he said breathlessly from his rushed actions.

You giggled. “Well, this one has to before she makes it for bedtime,” you referred to the little one who was jumping on the leaves. Harry looked down as his eyes beamed.

“Well, look at you! Aren't you the cutest scarecrow!” Penelope looked up once she heard her costume. She smiled at the unknown man, but all she knew was that he had a bowl of candy that she would like to get her hands on. “I got lots of options here. You could choose one or two if you’d like.” Harry bent down to Penelope’s height, holding out the candy bowl to her. He had full fixed candy bars and candy packs, and you thought that must’ve been expensive.

Penelope picked the candies she knew, which were a Hershey’s Cookies n’ Creme bar and a Twix bar. You raised them up to you, beaming proudly as you lowered her candy basket for her to put it in.

“What do you say, baby?”

She turned to Harry again. “Tank you!”

“You’re welcome!” Harry responded. “Oh, uh, I’m Harry, by the way.” He shook your hand, introducing himself. He smiled, dimples popping out and you felt yourself blush.

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled.

“And who might this be?” He bent down again at Penelope.

“I’m Pennie!” Your daughter introduced herself, and you smiled proudly.

“It’s lovely to meet you both. You look amazing, Pennie! Although, your mummy doesn’t have a costume on,” he teased, looking at you as he smirked, making your heart flutter.

“Well, mommy stayed up all night putting together and sewing her costume together, so I didn’t have time to make one for myself,” you explained. You were quite proud of Pennie’s costume. It was a brown dress with long sleeves that had different fall colored squares, but it was all one piece, so Pennie didn’t have to wear something underneath besides her leggings.

“Wow, you made this? This looks amazing!” Harry complimented, and you humbly said thank your

“So, uh, since your Fred Flinstone, is the rest of your family dressed up too?” You asked curiously.

“Oh, no. Just my daughter,” he chuckled, “which by the way, you need to see her costume, one second.” Harry quickly walked into the house, calling out for his daughter. You and Pennie waited on the sidewalk. After a few seconds, Harry came out with his daughter holding his hand as you thought they were the cutest pair.

“You two are just adorable!” You squealed as you looked at them fondly.

“Hi, I’m Wynette, but I go by Wynn,” the six year old girl smiled as she introduced herself.

“Hi, Wynn. I’m Y/N, and this is…Pennie, please stand up.” You found your daughter laying in the pile of leaves. Harry and Wynn laughed fondly. “Sorry about that.” You got Pennie to stand up, brushing her dress off from the dirt and mud.

“It’s okay! Wynn and I love to jump and lay in the leaves all the time,” Harry said. “Oh! Actually, do you mind doing me a favor? I know we just met, but…”

“Yeah, of course!” You accepted.

“Do you mind getting a picture of us? We tried getting on earlier, but it was all blurry,” Harry chuckled, taking out his phone and opening up the camera.

“Yeah, I got you.” You grabbed his phone as Harry and Wynn both smiled and posed. You lowered down the brightness a tad bit, and took multiple pics of them from different angles, even kicking some of the leaves to their feet to add to the fall effect. After you took plenty, you handed his phone back. “Let me know if you’d like me to take more.”

“Wow, these are perfect!” Harry exclaimed as he looked at them. “Are you a photographer?”

“Oh, no. I just really liked taking pictures when I was younger, so I always knew how to take good pictures on an iPhone,” you chuckled, making Harry laugh. Harry proceeded to joke that you should definitely be a photographer but only using a phone, and you teased back saying that you’ll think about it.

Meanwhile as you two were talking, you two didn’t realize Pennie and Wynn playing in the leaves. Wynn was throwing a handful in the air as the leaves rained down onto the two of them. You smiled fondly at the two, and looked at Harry who was snapping some pictures.

After a few moments, you called Pennie. “Alright, c’mon, baby. Let’s finish all these houses,” you reached out for her hand, but she pouted, shaking her head no. “Pennie…”

“No, no! I don’t wanna leave!” Her eyes started tearing up as she frowned.

“Don’t you want to get more candy?” You asked softly. She didn’t respond, rather turn towards Wynn and look at her with a pout.

“Oh, uh, I think she wants Wynn to go with her,” Harry chimed in. “Think she got attached too easily within those ten minutes.” You let out a chuckle, knowing that he was right.

“I’m sorry. Uh, she probably won’t leave your front lawn, but you totally don’t have to come with us, but-”

“Nonsense! We’d love to go! Right, Wynn?” Wynn nodded her head happily as she continued playing with Pennie. “We usually trick or treat later in the evening, but we’d love to go with you now. I’ll just leave the candy out at the front.”

“But wouldn’t the kids just take them all?”

“Hey, that’s fine by me. As long as it’s going somewhere,” Harry shrugged. “Just give me one second to get the rest of the candy, and then we could go.” Harry walked back inside of the house. Wynn stayed with Pennie as you two watched them. You noticed Pennie wasn’t crying anymore, but she was giggling with tear stained cheeks as the older girl twirled her around.

Two minutes later, Harry walked out of his house and locked the door before putting the candy bowl down onto the steps with a sign that said ‘take one, please!’ but he knew that no one was going to follow the sign’s instruction. After that, he turned towards you, smiling. “Shall we go?” You nodded your head as Harry gave Wynn her candy basket.

The four of you walked on the leaf covered sidewalk; Wynn and Pennie were walking together in the front as you and Harry walked together behind them.

“So, what do you do for a living?” You started the conversation.

“I’m a third grade teacher. Have been for six years. What about you?”

“I run a small business, selling jewelry and clothing. That’s all I do right now, and it’s gotten pretty big, so it’s taken care of a lot,” you smiled humbly.

“Wow, that’s amazing. I could definitely see the talent through Pennie’s costume. I’d have to check it out sometime to support.” You smiled at that, giving him the name of your shop.

The two of you continue walking, waiting for your children as they got candy, and getting to know one another.

“Do you live around here?” He asked. “I mean, not in a creepy way,” he chuckled nervously.

You giggled. “Yeah, I live about a block away. We usually walk on the opposite side, but decided to come on this side.”

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come over here,” he said innocently, but it could be taken as flirtatious.

“Me too,” you smiled softly. He smiled back as he thought you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen that’s not related to him. You had soft eyes that looked at him with care, and a smile that he thought was the most gorgeous; you even had dimples on corners of mouth when you would smile, and he just thought that was the cutest thing.

Obviously, he didn’t know that you were thinking the same thing as him. You felt somewhat intimidated by the tall, attractive, and kind man beside you. And you think his daughter is the cutest. They don’t really look alike, but she probably got her mom’s looks. Speaking of her mother…

“So, the rest of your family didn’t want to come out with you two?” You asked curiously, still waiting for the answer if he was married or taken or not.

“No, it’s actually just Wynn and I…” you hummed, smiling to yourself. “You’re probably wondering where Wynn’s mum is, huh?” He teased, noticing your flusteredness.

“Oh, uh-” you stumbled.

“It’s okay. I’m wondering if you’re taken too,” he said honestly.

You chuckled nervously. “I’m not. Haven’t been since Penelope was born, actually.”

“Do you mind me asking what happened?”

“Only if you tell me what happened with Wynn’s mom,” you teased. “I mean, only if you want to.” Harry nodded, softly smiling.

“Pennie’s dad and I got married three years before she was born. Spare the details, but we got a divorce after she was born because I found out that he had another family…and he chose them over us,” you explained.

“Oh, wow, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright. I’m over it, and it was for the better because I didn’t want Pennie hearing us fight all the time and me yelling and asking where he’s been,” you breathed out a laugh. It seemed like the memory was just yesterday, but it’s been three years.

“That must’ve been hard. Are you happier?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. That’s when I launched my business because I couldn’t stay at home and do nothing, so I started to design.”

“That’s amazing!” Harry smiled.

“So, that’s my spooky story for today,” you chuckled, “what’s yours?”

“Wel, uh…”

“Don’t feel obligated to tell me because I told you my story,” you reassured, and he nodded.

“Yeah, I know. But I want to tell you. Have a feeling we’re gonna be around each other a lot more often.” He pointed his eyes at the two girls walking in front of you. You smiled at the two holding hands. “But anyways, Wynn’s mother passed away when she was about two months old.”

You softly gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“As well as her father too.” Your eyes widened as you suddenly stopped walking for a moment. You looked at him skeptically, studying him for a moment. Harry furrowed his brows once you touched his stomach.

“What are you doing?”

“Are you a ghost?” You asked seriously. His words caught you off guard that you actually thought you were imagining Harry the whole time.

“What? No, I’m not,” he laughed. He totally understood why you thought that.

“Okay, good. Thought I was tripping. I mean it is Halloween. Anyways, you were saying?” You gave him your full attention as you two started walking again.

“Wynn’s actual parents passed during an accident. They were on their way back from a little date night. Her father, Alex, was my best friend, and I’m her godfather. So, after they passed, I was her guardian. But when they asked me to be her godfather, they told me the responsibilities and that if anything happened to them, to change Wynn’s last name to my own because they didn’t want her to live on with her life wondering who her real family was. So, I did as they told me. I changed it. And I’ve raised her her whole life, and she’s mine, y’know?” Harry told you, and you listened and nodded.

“Does Wynn know?”

“Yeah, she does. I told her last year because she wondered why she didn’t look like me, and I knew that I couldn’t just lie and hide it from her. She’s a smart girl, so I knew she would understand. She cried for a little bit—had an identity crisis and felt like she couldn’t call me dad anymore, but I told her that if she wanted to or not then I would be okay with it. Thankfully, she still does.” Harry looked at his feet as he walked, kicking the leaves around.

“You’re a great dad, Harry. I’ve known you for about thirty minutes, but I just know you are. Wynn is the sweetest, and you’re doing amazing. But thank you for telling me all that. Know I’m a bit of a stranger,” you slightly laughed.

“Just a tad bit, but I trust you—I feel it.” You smiled at him, nudging him as you walked, to which you earned one back.

You all walked back to Harry’s house, and by the time you got there, Pennie was reaching up towards you, telling you to pick her up. She must’ve been tired from all the walking and jumping with her new mate, so she was getting sleepy.

“I could drive you back, if you’d like?” Harry offered.

“No, it’s okay! Not that far of a walk. Thank you for joining us, though! Pennie and myself really appreciated it and we had fun,” you smiled.

“We did as well. We’ll see you around?” Harry said, and you nodded, waving goodbye.

Harry watched as you two walked away, and he really did have a great time. He felt refreshed and relieved after talking to you, and he doesn’t remember the last time he’s had a decent conversation with someone without turning it into more that same day.

Hopefully he will see you around.

November 1st was your favorite. You started feeling the festive mood as it was getting closer and closer to the holidays.

You and Pennie were out for a walk, and you offered to bring the stroller, but she shook her head, wanting to freely walk in the leaves. Taking the similar route as the night prior, you were hoping to see Harry. You were really infatuated with him, and you thought you two would be great friends, and maybe even more.

Suddenly, Pennie let go of your hand and started running towards the familiar house from last night. She tan quite fast for a toddler, and you would have to ask her if she wanted to join track when she was older.

“Penelope, get back here!” You chased after her, but it was too late when she slapped the door. You caught up to her and carried her. “Baby, please don’t run away from me like that again.” She said a soft ‘I’m sorry’ as you carried her off the walkway.

The door opened, revealing the familiar man. “Y/N? Pennie?”

“I’m sorry! We were going for a walk and she ran away from me and ran here,” you said breathlessly, walking towards the front door again.

Harry chuckled. “You wanna see Wynnie again, Pen?” Pennie’s eyes brightened at the sound of her friend’s name as she nodded. “Come on in!”

“A-Are you sure?” You asked hesitantly.

“Absolutely! We’re just cooking breakfast right now.”

You two walked in slowly as Harry followed behind. You out Pennie down as she stayed close to you. When Harry shut the door, Pennie tugged on his pant leg.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He bent down, giving his attention.

“Can I have another candy?” She asked shyly, and Harry smiled.

“Penelope…” you said.

“What? H-He gives the full size candy bars!” You and Harry laughed loudly.

“We have extra, but only if mummy lets you.” Pennie looked up at you with a pouty face, and of course, you gave in.

“Alright, alright. But you’re only eating it after dinner, and you only get three pieces,” you chuckled. The little girl started jumping up and down happily. Harry looked at the two of you and smiled fondly, loving the dynamic between you two.

Maybe he did like Halloween after all.

happy halloween! come into my inbox and let’s talk <3

#harry styles fluff #dad!harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ff #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harryween #harry styles one direction #boyfriend!harry #harry #harry styles

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renjuseyo · 3 years

Note

can i pls request Lucas x male reader where Lucas is the popular kid and reader is really quiet, but lucas likes reader because of readers personality(not like other guys/girls who tries their best to let them get noticed by lucas) and Lucas always tease and talk to reader because of that. maybe add a scenario where reader gets bullied on why he's dating Lucas and Lucas comes in and comforts reader. Thats all thank you!💖

up to you ; lucas

group: nct / wayv

pairing: wong yukhei / reader (male)

synopsis: yukhei is your school’s most popular heartthrob, and you’re the quiet wallflower. can things be any more obvious?

genre: fluff

warning: bullying

i hope this satisfies you anon! personally i lost inspo so it’s not that good... i apologize :,) also i just realized how long my fics are, so oops? as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

you’re in the library shelving piles of books into their respective slots, gently humming to yourself as you drum your fingers on the spine of a book. the library is silent for the most part, save for the low buzz of the fan by the entryway and your soft humming. it’s quiet and cozy, just how you like it.

the quiet ambience is slightly ruined by the loud rattling from the left. it startles you, but luckily you remain your balance and don’t plummet to your demise. when you look towards the source of the noise, you see yukhei standing by the bottom of the ladder, flashing you his signature rectangular grin. “hi (name)!” he chirps, waving at you. a warmth blossoms within you, but the chorus of agitated shushes distracts you. he cowers within himself, sending other students an apologetic look. “sorry,” he whispers.

“i didn’t expect to see you here,” you reply, turning your attention back to the books in your arms. there’s no malicious intent behind your words, because you genuinely would’ve thought he would spend his free period playing basketball with his friends, not in the library.

but he gasps with loud, feigned hurt. “i’m offended! just because i prefer sports over school doesn’t mean i won’t come in and pick up a book every now and then!” another round of shushes ripples throughout the room, though this time they’re paired with irritated glares. you’re among one of them.

“please be quiet, we’re in a library,” you remind him, stepping down a few rungs. he sends you an apologetic look, one that reminds you of a kicked puppy. “if you’re looking to borrow textbooks, the librarian’s up front. if not, you’re welcome to browse through.”

“nah, i already got all of my textbooks. i just came in to see you~” he winks, which you respond with by rolling your eyes. you promptly ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “oh come on, don’t be so mean. why don’t you ever react?”

“why should i? all you ever do is tease me,” you deadpan. you finish categorizing the last book and begin climbing down the ladder to grab a new pile. yukhei seems to notice this, eagerly scooping up a pile to hand to you. it doesn’t quite work out though, because his massive hands accidentally push them to the floor, and he winces, knowing what to expect. along with other disturbed patrons, you glare at him. you bend down to pick up the books, sighing. “you know, you’re lucky i haven’t kicked you out yet.”

“sorry,” he apologizes, sending you a sheepish smile. “sometimes i have no control over this massively tall body. i guess being short like you would be better, huh?”

for your age, you stand at a relatively average height. but yukhei is a little taller than most, standing at six feet. it really isn’t that big of a difference, but he still teases you for it all of the time.

you’re about to retort when you see two figures lurking by the other side of the shelf. you sigh, already knowing what to expect. something like this happens nearly every two days. “two of your so-called fans at nine o’clock.”

yukhei turns to face that direction and the two figures jump in surprise, confirming your suspicions. you see two girls step out from behind the shelf, timidly staring at you two. you recognize one of them, yujin, from your history class. “hi lucas,” the girl greets. it’s the nickname he goes by, the one that everyone is familiar with. you’re one of the few people that uses his real name, though.

you don’t even blink at the lack of acknowledgement. you’ve never really talked to yujin, save for the time she shared her notes with you. a real life saver. “oh hey yujin! is there something you need?” he asks. she looks pleasantly surprised that he remembers her.

you see the girl beside yujin, probably her wing woman, ushering her to hand him what appears to be a letter. not wanting to disturb the love confession that’s to come, you quietly grab the cart of books and roll it away from them. no one seems to notice though; the perks of being a wallflower.

five minutes later, you’re standing behind the counter of the check-out area, helping a few students check out textbooks. “is that everything you need?” you ask, not looking up from the computer screen.

“no, but i’d love to check you out.” you turn your head at the familiar voice and snort upon seeing yukhei.

“that was bad, even for you.”

“the only way you’d notice me,” he shrugs. you notice that he isn’t holding anything in his hands, and from the corner of your eyes you can see yujin and her friend walking towards the exit. judging from the way her friend rubs her shoulders, you can only guess that she’s been rejected like the others.

“you turned her down?” you ask.

yukhei sighs. for someone who receives several confessions, he never looks less guilty when rejecting them. “yujin is really sweet and smart, but i’m only interested in her as a friend. plus, between you and me?” he leans in as if telling you a secret. “i’m pretty sure her friend somi has a thing for her.”

you shake your head in sympathy. poor girl, having to be a wing woman for the girl you like. “well, that sucks.”

he frowns at your curt response, resting his arms on the counter. “you know, we haven’t been friends for very long, yet you never question why i reject everyone.”

you shrug, walking towards the storage room. “you’re just waiting for the right person, because contrary to popular belief, wong yukhei isn’t a heart breaker.”

yukhei can only forlornly watch as you head to the back. “i’ve found the right person, they just haven’t noticed yet,” he mutters.

if you’re being honest, you don’t quite remember how yukhei entered your life. after all, he’s way ahead in the social spectrum, surrounded by swarms of friends like some enforcer of happiness. on the other hand, you’re on the complete opposite side of that spectrum. you’re the quiet guy who minds your own business, so you don’t have many friends like he does, save for the few close ones you’ve made prior to high school. but one day, like the friendly giant he is, he magically appears by your side, and now his presence fills each of your days.

save for the times he teases you about your height and your personality, yukhei isn’t as bad as kids like you describe. sure, he’s loud and outspoken, every introvert’s nightmare, but he isn’t a jerk or a heart breaker like they whisper about. he’s quite the opposite, actually, his personality similar to a golden retriever. the way others perceive him never gets less funny for you. you’ve personally seen him get his nose stuck in a coat hanger before; how in the world does a klutz like him scream heart breaker material?

you’ve only known him for half a year, yet you feel like you’ve known him since childhood. he’s never quiet about his life, and he always seems genuinely interested in you. naturally, like the fool you are, you found yourself inevitably falling for him. it’s not like things will go your way - yukhei is at the center of the school’s attention, meaning he’s surrounded by plenty of suitors. it’s so cliche you’d laugh - the quiet guy pining over the school’s heart throb - but truthfully, you’d rather watch him excitedly talk about his interests or do anything that elicits a smile from him. you’ll have plenty of time to laugh later, anyways.

when you enter the cafeteria, you scan the cliques assembled at each table, looking for your own little group made up of you, mark, renjun, and donghyuck. it’s a mix of different personalities with even more different interests, but sharing the cast roles of trees in the third grade goes a long way.

your sight is quickly obscured by two massive hands, and you sigh, recognizing the cold feeling of a ring against your face. “guess who?” a voice above you sings.

“what are you doing here?” you ask. you quickly regain your sight as the hands slink away, and you turn around to face a smiling yukhei.

“here to grab food just like everyone else,” he answers, ruffling your hair. he laughs when he sees you try to remove his hand from your hair, yours impossibly small compared to his. “is this bothering you, tiny terror?” he teases.

“seriously?”

“sorry, did you say something? you’re a little too quiet.”

to a bystander, it would look like yukhei, the tall, popular kid, was bullying you, the average quiet wallflower. but your friendship all began with this “teasing”, so you don’t really mind anymore.

before you can say anything, you hear a crowd of guys headed your way. you take that as your cue to leave, removing his hand from your hair. luckily, you finally see your friends at a table at the other side of the room. “i’m going to go now. bye,” you say. before you get a response, you slink away from him.

as you slide in a seat beside mark, you catch renjun and donghyuck eyeing you with interest. you’ve known them long enough to know that look means trouble - specifically from renjun and donghyuck. mark is never a part of their schemes, wanting nothing more than a peaceful day. “can i help you?” you ask, leaning down to steal a fry from mark, who shrieks in protest.

"so, you and yukhei?” renjun gives you a knowing look, while mark gives you an apologetic one. you feel like you’ve just jumped straight into a trap.

“we’re friends. what about it?” you ask, taking more of mark’s food. at this point, he’s given up on fending it from your hands.

“he’s in denial,” donghyuck whispers, though you hear it loud and clear. “dude, he gives you heart eyes when you do so much as breathe. how does it feel, having a heart throb like him wrapped around your finger?”

the thought is baffling; you, having yukhei wrapped around your finger? “no comment because i don’t.” renjun and donghyuck boo at your comment. “enough with that nonsense already. we’re just friends. plus, i’m not going to swoon over him-”

“-like everyone else in the building?” mark finishes, pointing his head forward. you look up, and unsurprisingly, a swarm of people surround yukhei, and he’s eagerly chatting with them, probably thriving from the attention. you swear you see a glimpse of yet another letter from a guy you recognize from your biology class, but with so many people it’s hard to tell.

“you know, i don’t understand how people perceive him as a heart breaker. he’s like a clumsy puppy with too much energy for his own good,” you comment, munching on a fry.

“maybe because you’re one of the few people who actually know him well enough to determine that?” mark suggests. “he gets along with everyone, but he tails you like a puppy all of the time. it’s no wonder you know him well.”

you shrug. “maybe if he teased other people all the time, they’d probably get to know him better, too. apparently that’s how people befriend others these days.”

they all exchange a knowing look before staring at you. “riiight. because he teases everyone he wants to befriend. not because, you know, he’s interested in them,” renjun remarks.

you stare at yukhei for a little longer until he looks up and sees you. he frantically waves with a large grin, and you can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips as you wave back. when your hand falls and you go back to eating mark’s food, you shrug. “right.”

something you find odd about your schedule is how you have pe right after lunch. do teachers seriously think it’s a good idea to have students running laps right after eating? that only calls for disaster. it’s something you complain about every now and then to donghyuck, seeing how he’s the only person you can talk to.

“i heard we’re doing the mile run today,” donghyuck shares.

you groan, walking beside him. “i don’t care how many times we do it. i will never not complain about it. what makes him think running’s fun?”

“i don’t know, i think running’s pretty great,” a voice chimes. you don’t need to turn around to guess who it is, but you do anyways. unsurprisingly, yukhei’s right beside you, grinning his signature smile.

“easy for you to say. you’re built like a greek god and you have abnormally long legs. you’re like... a spider.”

yukhei chooses to ignore your comparison about the spider, instead beaming. “you think i’m built like a greek god?”

what a way to feed into his ego. “i take it back.”

he visibly deflates, pouting. “what! you can’t take it back, (name)! don’t hurt me like that!”

you’re about to retort back when donghyuck taps your shoulder. “lucas, (name), hi. i’d hate to bother your flirting session, so i’m going to bother yangyang now.”

“we’re not-” the words are barely out of your mouth before he slinks away from you two, but not before throwing up finger guns at you. you’re left alone with yukhei, who shoots you a cheeky wink.

the five minutes it takes for you to walk to the track field quickly goes by, having spent it conversing with yukhei. your teacher tasks everyone to partner up for the mile run, and your instincts are telling you to go to donghyuck, who’s been your partner each time. but then you see him approach yangyang with an intention in his eyes and you decide to go against it. the only other friend you have in this class would be...

you turn around to look for yukhei, but he’s no longer by your side, instead being encompassed by several guys. he doesn’t quite meet their gaze though, eyes flickering to you. he’s obviously occupied. to your dismay, there are no other options left, and you’d rather die than talk to other people.

someone taps your shoulder and you jump so high that even the perpetrator seems startled. you fearfully stiffen, contemplating the dozen methods of running away, but when you turn around, you visibly relax. it’s hendery, one of your classmates. you don’t know him too well, but you share most of your classes together. “hey (name), you still looking for a partner?” he asks.

“yeah, i am. are you?" of course he’s looking for a partner. why else would he approach you? great. now he’s going to think you’re weird, and then you’re not going to have a-

“perfect, so am i! do you want to run first, or should i?” he flashes you a smile that eases your nerves, and the butterflies in your stomach still.

“i don’t have a preference.”

“okay, then i’ll go first. be sure to keep a good eye on me, okay?” he sends you a flirty wink, and you’re taken aback by the sudden motion, lightly blushing. he seems to notice this, too, grinning at your silence. “i’ve been told i’m a good runner. i hope i impress you~”

your mind is running faster than your body could ever, still trying to process hendery’s boldness. “oh. well, i bet you’re far better than me. i’m not a good runner,” you awkwardly laugh.

it’s only been a few minutes, but you find yourself pleasantly surprised to become acquainted with hendery, though it’s mainly hendery doing the talking since you’re not quite out of your shell yet. in the five minutes you’ve known him, you learn that he’s the captain of the track team and strangely enough, really likes hot dogs. you go through the five stages of regret upon learning this, because your running won’t even begin to compare to his. but he gently assures you it isn’t a big deal, even patting your shoulder.

you decide that hendery’s ability to put people at ease is incredible, because you’re too absorbed with his presence to notice the look yukhei sends from afar.

after that, you and hendery quickly befriended each other. your relationship kind of reminds you of your’s with yukhei because of how different you are, but unlike him, he doesn’t tease you all of the time. you’re not sure how to feel when you find yourself missing it.

on the bright side, he’s a great friend to hang out with when others are busy. renjun and donghyuck have volleyball practice? you go to the arcade with hendery. mark has speech and debate? you get tacos with hendery. yukhei is busy... being the social butterfly he is? you go over to hendery’s house. your increase in hangouts has definitely made your friends suspicious, with donghyuck going as far as accusing you of cheating on yukhei, whatever that means. it’s not like you two are dating, anyways.

(the thought reminds you just how impossible the concept is, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t bothered by it.)

your third period is when you act as mrs. choi’s library assistant. you’re sitting by the counter, flipping through the latest issue of haikyu!! when you hear footsteps approach you. having to act like the responsible assistant, you quickly tuck the book away, but not fast enough judging from hendery’s smirk. “so mr. studious isn’t quite so studious, is he?” he asks.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug. “anyways, what are you doing here? do you have a free period like-” you quickly stop in your tracks. the name stands at the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, a part of you tells you not to say it.

thankfully he doesn’t question your abrupt pause. “no, i have math. pauses for boos,” he sighs. “anyways, can you check this out for me?” he slides a thick textbook your direction.

“sure. student id?” you go through the procedure of checking out his book, which doesn’t take long. “okay, you’re good to go.”

he doesn’t immediately leave though, eyes never leaving your frame. “(name)?”

you pull out your book, flipping back to the page you were on. “yeah?” there’s a pause, which is unlike hendery. from what you know, he’s confident and doesn’t take breaks, which makes you look up from your book. he looks almost... nervous? “are you okay?”

he pauses to take a deep breath, and you’re suddenly embracing for something serious. “would you go on a d-”

“hey (name), hendery! what a coincidence seeing you here!”

you look behind hendery and is surprised to see yukhei approach you with a strained smile. you’ve been hanging out with hendery so much that you haven’t seen yukhei in a while, aside from your shared classes.

at this point, the other patrons in the library have already gotten used to his loud voice, and seeing how you never once kicked him out, they stopped shushing him altogether. “it isn’t a coincidence, yukhei. you know i’m here during third period.” you squint at his appearance. he looks stiff, sweaty even. “are you okay?”

hendery looks like he knows something you don’t, glaring at yukhei. “we’re in a library, or have you forgotten?” there’s an obvious bite in his words, one that shocks you. you had no idea they didn’t like each other, but seeing their mutual glares, it’s kind of obvious now.

“sorry, i had to get my point across,” yukhei responds. he turns to face you, and his smile quickly fades into one of genuine. “hey (name), can i talk to you about something?” he turns to give hendery the stink eye. “in private?”

“he can’t abandon his responsibility as mrs. choi’s assistant, much less for you,” hendery snaps.

okay, you’re really missing something big here. in an attempt to clear the tense atmosphere, you clear your throat. “can it wait...” you glance at the clock. “five minutes? mrs. choi should be back then.”

yukhei nods, giving hendery a triumphant smirk. “of course.”

five minutes later, mrs. choi comes back, allowing you to slink into the empty hallway with yukhei. “before you tell me what you need to tell me- what the hell was that?”

he gives you an oblivious look. “what was what?”

“the tension between you and hendery!” you exclaim. “you two looked like you were going to shoot each other had i not been there.”

he looks genuinely surprised that you noticed. what does he take you for, a dunce? “oh, that? we’ve never really gotten along... but recently, we found out we both like the same person, so that kind of worsened things.”

you nod, though the thought of yukhei finding his right person surprises you, and a small part feels a little disappointed. rightfully so, because not only is it not you, but because he didn’t bother telling you! “you finally found the right person for you?”

“for a while now, actually,” he corrects. now you’re even more surprised; yukhei found someone he liked and hadn’t once told you? the betrayal! “i just haven’t been able to tell them.”

“well, who is it?” you sigh, shaking your head. “you had all of these chances to tell me, and you didn’t even try? i’m disappointed.” technically he would be saving you from heartbreak by not telling you, but that’s beside the point.

“well, that would ruin the surprise then. i was planning on confessing,” he explains, giving you a cheeky smile.

this is fine, this is fine... except it’s not, you mentally narrate. you’re already flashing him a strained smile. “when?” you ask.

yukhei’s smile never once fades, and you’re tempted to wipe it off his face. “right now.” he sweeps his arm in a flourish. “i like you, (name) (last name).”

a pause. you’re frozen in your spot, replaying his words in your head.

i like you, (name) (last name).

this must be some sort of fever dream. or an elaborate prank; you frantically look around for someone to jump out in front of you, camera in hand. but to your shock, you’re still wearing clothes, and no one jumps out. “did i hear that right?” you gawk.

yukhei’s still grinning; your shocked look seems to satisfy him. “i like you. you’re the person i was talking about.”

you’ve been duped - bamboozled! “am i dreaming?”

he laughs, ruffling your hair. “this is very much real, cutie. do you want me to kiss you to prove it?” you visibly flush, hiding your face behind your hands. he’s always teased you, but this it the first time he’s really flirted like this. has he been holding back on your account? he peels your hands off your face, cooing at how red you are. “may i ask for your answer?”

your face is still warm, eyes refusing to meet his. he’s holding your hands, and it feels like he’s holding your heart in them, too. “why?” you’re not asking this because of your insecurities, but because you’re genuinely curious. if he’s shown signs that he likes you, he’s done a great job at making it subtle.

(yukhei’s definitely not subtle though, which means you probably didn’t notice because you’re just that dense.)

“i like your personality,” he begins. “you’re a breath of fresh air among the familiar, the quiet in my loud. i think we fit really well. plus, teasing you is a bonus, seeing you get all bothered.” he caresses your hands, and you’re suddenly keenly aware of where you two are. “you know, i would’ve made things more extravagant, but hendery was going to sweep you off your feet, so i had to make things quick.”

wait, hendery likes you too? then at the library... this feels like a wattpad fanfic. but instead of pondering on that, you roll your eyes. “even if he said anything, i wouldn’t have accepted.”

his face contorts to one of surprise, but it takes him a few seconds to understand the implications behind your comment. “does that mean you like me, too?” he hums, eyes twinkling in delight.

you hate feeding into his ego, but you decide right now is an exception. “maybe.”

you immediately regret it though, seeing him grin like the cheshire cat. you’re never going to hear the end of it now. “i even managed to woo you with my charms, huh?”

“shut up.”

“with your lips? because i’d love that.” he leans down, batting his eyelashes, and you’re heating up all over again. at first, you take it as another one of his flirty remarks, but the look he gives you is a silent question of consent. it reminds you of how no matter how much he teases you, he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable, never do anything without permission.

there are several thoughts swirling in your head and many things you need to discuss with yukhei. how will the general public react learning about this? will you be harassed by his hoard of fans? will things even work? but instead, you grab his hand and begin walking to a secluded part of the wing. ignoring the what-if’s is very unlike you, but you have more important matters to tend to. “we have to talk about this later.”

yukhei can only hum in agreement as your breath fans over his lips.

as mentioned earlier, yukhei isn’t subtle at all, so it’s no surprise that soon the whole school finds out about your relationship. you can’t be mad at him though, because he really did try. but then he accidentally let it slip during basketball practice, bragging about how you were an amazing kisser. you can’t really be mad at his comment, anyways.

to your dismay, your popularity has soared being yukhei’s boyfriend. you much prefer the times when people had to ask for your name again, because now they all label you as lucas’s boyfriend. like, you have a name. plus, high school students are incredibly nosy. but people are nice, for the most part.

needless to say, your friends had a field day with you upon hearing the news. apparently renjun and donghyuck had made bets on you, to which the former had triumphed. mark simply congratulated you as he struggled to stop the two from fighting each other.

to your surprise, hendery had approached you and congratulated you two on the manner. he ruffled your hair and told you that he’s always available if you ever choose to drop yukhei, to which the latter responded by lunging at him. you didn’t have time to question hendery about the events in the library from the past week, having to stop your boyfriend from fighting him.

your days at school have certainly become livelier. for starters, yukhei has become much more open about expressing affection, though the displays in public are nothing compared to in private. his friends were also quick to introduce themselves to you, even going as far as stealing you from him. you’re pretty sure you’ve become an honorary member of the basketball team now. things have seemed to calm down now, though your friends still tease your relationship every now and then. you try to go by your day with minimal interaction as usual, save for yukhei and your friends.

today was supposed to be your free day, but mrs. choi had called you asking if you could finish up things in the library, having to leave early for a doctor’s appointment. like the kind assistant you were, you had accepted with no hesitation, finishing up her tasks. however, you did feel like you were forgetting something important.

you’ve just finished shelving the final textbook when you hear footsteps approach you. you turn your head, expecting to see the janitor, but you’re startled to come face-to-face with a guy. judging from the threatening look on his face, you can tell you’re in for an unpleasant conversation. and if that’s the case, it’s probably because of yukhei.

with his popularity and your relationship, it isn’t surprising that there were a few that weren’t too happy to see you together. he isn’t some object that wannabe teenagers have ownership over. however, many are yet to grasp that concept. “how can i help you?” you politely ask.

you barely have any time to blink before you’re being pushed against the bookshelf, trapped in between his arms. this feels like a showdown between the love interest and the wannabe, the latter fighting for the affections of the male lead. “listen up, (last name),” the guy snarls. “you better stay away from lucas. you don’t deserve him.”

under normal circumstances, you would be terrified. but apparently you have a death wish, saying, “and you do?”

you close your eyes, bracing for a fist to your face, but surprisingly, it never comes. you squeak an eye open to see him looking down at you with a smirk. “whatever he sees in you, it won’t be there long. did he ever tell you how much he hates boring people?”

usually jerks like him don’t bother you, but... boring? you may be quiet, but you don’t think you’re that boring... right? the stranger releases his hold on you. before he can say any more, the library doors swing open, and like some knight in shining armor, there stands yukhei who looks out of breath. “(name)? hyunjung?”

you two are lucky he didn’t see your position earlier, otherwise it would beg for some unpleasant questions. “hi lucas,” hyunjung politely greets, doing a quick bow. a complete 180 from his personality from earlier. “i was just leaving.”

yukhei nods as hyunjung walks away from you two. he approaches you, pouting. “i was looking all over for you! did you forget about our date today?”

oh, so that’s what you were forgetting. you absentmindedly nod, still thinking of hyunjung’s words from earlier. “oh, sorry.”

he must sense some hostility in you, because he gently grabs your shoulders. “hey, are you okay? you look a little shaken up.”

usually you bottle up your worries; when they overfill, you shove them down even further. but yukhei is the complete opposite, so open about himself like he has nothing to hide. perhaps it’s because you spend so much time with him that his candid tendencies have rubbed onto you. “are you sure you’re okay with this?” you ask.

he tilts his head in confusion. “okay with what?”

you shrug, trying to show hyunjung’s words didn’t bother you as much as it had. “dating me?”

instantly he narrows his eyes, tightening his grip. “did- did hyunjung say something to make you think that way? is that why he came in here?” he protectively wraps his arms around you. “remind me to give him a lesson next time.” you snort; yukhei can’t even hurt a fly. if he does, it’s unintentional, and he always screams at the realization.

“i mean, i usually don’t listen to jerks like that, but-” you pause to gesture at yourself. “i’m your polar opposite, and as funny i think i am, i’m pretty quiet and boring. plus, you hate boring people, or at least people too stuck up for their own good.”

yukhei musters all of the sincerity in his eyes. “but that’s what makes us work so well, (name). i think i’m really cool and nice and all-” you snort at the comment. while all of those adjectives are true, it doesn’t make it less funnier, seeing how much confidence he has. “but i also have my flaws. i can be hotheaded, and i’m bad at saying no. but you help balance them out. you keep me leveled, and you’re always firm about what you want. plus, i help balance your flaws, too; we just work like that.” he squishes your cheeks together, eliciting a sound of protest from you. “if i don’t have a problem with a cutie like you, they shouldn’t, either.”

“some have yet to grasp the concept of treating you like a taken man,” you answer, though it comes out muffled. he giggles at the acknowledgement, leaning down to peck your nose. a garbled noise leaves your throat, and you close your eyes in embarrassment.

“maybe i should show them just how taken i am,” he hums. he promptly removes his hands from your face and wraps an arm around your shoulder. “how about we start by going on our date?”

despite how simple his resolution seems, you know you and yukhei will have another deeper discussion about today’s events. whereas he likes solving things with cuddles and kisses, you like to do it with deep conversations. that can wait for now. “let me lock up first. we’re getting food, right?”

when you look up at him, you suddenly realize what donghyuck meant when he said yukhei looks at you with heart eyes. the look he gives you is so sweet you feel like you’re getting cavities. it’s so endearing you nearly forget all of your insecurities, only focusing on how much he seems to adore you. he always seems to know what to do when you’re in a slump. “of course! gotta feed the cutie here,” he answers, leaning down to kiss the crown of your head.

you roll your eyes with a laugh, though you sneakily wrap your fingers with his. you’ll have plenty of time to repay the favor later.

#nct #nct u #wayv #superm #kpop #cpop #nct x reader #nct x male reader #wayv x reader #wayv x male reader #superm x reader #superm x male reader #lucas #wong yukhei #lucas x reader #lucas x male reader #renjuseyo : nct #renjuseyo : fics

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amphxtrite · 3 years

Text

harry potter x fem!reader

warnings: ⚠️tw⚠️ suicide, substance abuse, blood, suicidal thoughts, alcohol, depression, anxiety, breakdowns, kissing, overall pure angst with a fluffy ending.

currently unedited please excuse grammatical mistakes

summary: A summer changes the girl harry potter fell in love with, leaving her with more pain than she’d ever admit.

a/n: there are many things in here that may be triggering, please consider the warnings before reading.

word count: 6k (writing this really helped get my feelings out)

taglist: @oldschoolkiddo

please message me to be added to my taglist

enjoy <3

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Rushing down the Hogwarts halls, bags slung over your shoulder and sun shining through the windows, you scour the crowds of students leaving Hogwarts for summer vacation, trying to pick a familiar brunette with green eyes.

Rounding the corner, you spot three gryffindors chatting by a stone pillar and run towards them, crashing into one of the boy’s backs.

“Guess who?” You giggle, feeling Harry’s chest vibrate as he chuckles.

“Hm, I don’t know, is it Hagrid?” He teases, running his chin as Hermione grins. “Nope.” You laugh, popping the ‘p’

“Is it Dumbledore?” Harry tries again, placing his hand over yours and stroking his thumb over your fingers. “Afraid not lightning.”

“Well then, perhaps is it y/n?” Harry turns, wrapping you in his arms as you laugh and hug him back.

“Are you guys ready for summer?” You ask, glancing around at Hermione and Ron before glancing back at Harry.

They all bore similar expressions, small smiles with a ‘maybe’ face. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re off to save the world over summer too.” You sigh, releasing yourself from Harry’s arms and walking to Ron to give him a hug.

“We won’t get in too much trouble.” Ron chuckles, patting you on the back and letting you walk over to Hermione.

“We just never know at this point.” She shrugs, squeezing you tightly.

“Well I’ll meet you guys on the train!” You smile.

The ride back to your platform was as it always was, the trees whipped by and swayed. The sky was lined with puffy white clouds. The snack trolley passed and you bought yourself a chocolate frog and some ‘every flavour’ beans to share with your mom when you got home, a tradition as they were her favourite, and because she needed a little happiness with you off at school and your father gone.

Sitting back and sighing. The golden trio finally arrived at your cabin and told you about their summer plans. Hermione was travelling, Ron was staying home and Harry was staying with the Dursley’s until he could ‘find a reason to escape to the Weasley’s’ as he put it.

The train arrives at your stop and you grab your bags to leave.

“Write to me if you can, all of you, and I’ll see you next year.” You smile, walking back over to Harry and planting a quick kiss to his cheek, ruffling Ron’s hair and kissing Hermione’s forehead.

“Bye y/n!” Ron and Hermione chime.

“Bye thunder!” Harry calls as you turn again and wave. “Bye lightning, bye guys!” You smile, rushing off to the train.

“So you finally told her?” Ron chuckles, patting Harry on the back.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asks furrowing his eyebrows.

“We know you like her mate, and she just kissed you on the cheek!” Ron continues.

“W-Well maybe I do fancy her, but she gave Mione a kiss too!” Harry stammers, his face going as red as his uniform.

“That was platonic Harry, we can tell she likes you, lightning.” Hermione teases using your nickname for him.

“Listen, I don’t want to jump to conclusions and creep y/n out. She’s an amazing friend and I’d like it to stay that way.” Harry smiles, looking off into the distance to see you still walking away.

“Even if she does like you back?” Ron questions.

“Well you don’t know if she does.” Harry sighs, rolling his eyes.

Your eyes scan the station for your mother, swiveling your head back and forth to find her but only seeing other families being reunited with their children.

Pursing your lips you sigh and wait for a moment. Hoping and praying that this year would be different, and your mother would come running to you with open arms. Seconds fade to minutes, and soon the station is almost empty as excited parents rush home to hear about Hogwarts adventures.

You pull your luggage behind you as you walk to the front of the station and hail a muggle cab, leaning your head against the cool window as the pink skies shine above you, the driver makes no move for conversation, so your drive is silent, and when you finally reach your old house, you hand the man driving the rest of your muggle allowance and nod him goodbye.

Your house was looking as quiet and calm as you had left it.

The flowers you had planted last summer had wilted, the porch sat empty and the stairs still creaked as you approached the door. Home.

You smile as you turn your key in the lock and push open the door, setting your bags on the floor as you set out, candy in hand in search of your mother. The kitchen sat empty with only the soft hum of the refrigerator suggesting someone still lived here. The living room was empty, the old leather couch seemed to be collecting dust and the tv looked like an ancient artifact with the cobwebs strung on the sides. As you ascend the stairs to the second floor, you notice the blinds to every window suspiciously closed. Odd, your mother usually enjoyed watching the sunset.

The floorboards beneath you give high pitched creaks as you walk across the hallways, something you had always despised, especially as a child trying to sneak sweets in the early hours.

Pushing open your mothers bedroom, your eyebrows furrow as her bed laid neatly made, with not a thing out of place. The usual mess of pill bottles and plastic bottles had been cleaned, the pile of clothes had disappeared and she was still nowhere to be found. A sense of dread bubbles in the pit of your stomach as you push on, checking her closet and even your own room for your mom, but nothing.

You turn around with a plan to head to town and see if she was visiting the pharmacy for her pills again, or maybe the grocery store, heck, maybe she had stopped at the corner store for cigarettes again. You turn to shrug on a jacket and leave, but as you reach for the front door knob again, your head snaps up and your blood runs cold.

“No, no, no. Please no.” You repeat to yourself, running up the stairs with tears in your eyes and you approach the one room you had yet to check. The one place your head told you she was, but your heart refused to believe. There was no way it could be true. She’d be opening the door right now, the sound of keys clattering on the table in the kitchen would alert you she was there. She’d say, “I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up, work was awful today.” And she’d proceed to pull out her groceries so you could prepare your favourite meal together, after dinner you would sit on the couch and you’d tell her all about your school girl crush on Harry Potter and she’d tease you as she popped a jelly bean into her mouth and give you the best motherly advice you could ask for. You pause at the closed door and pause, waiting for the door to open, waiting for the sound of footsteps, even the sound of breathing, anything.

You’re met with silence, and in the exact two hundred and sixteen seconds you stood outside the bathroom door, tears began to cloud your vision as you finally opened the door, counting another ten seconds before opening your eyes.

The first thing you saw was your mother, eyes closed and face unusually pale as she lay in the bathtub, and for a moment, you almost convinced yourself she had fallen asleep.

That is until your eyes trailed down her body, and where the water turned red. You drop the jellybeans and everything goes blurry.

“No…” You whimper incredulously, not realizing you had fallen to your knees until the pain in your legs registered and your eyes flooded. Her skin was littered with scars, ones she obtained from her job, harmless ones that healed with time. Beside them were what you cried for. Large, angry gashes that covered her wrists and stole the life from her.

Your face contorts into a hateful cry as you scream, pain flooding your entire being as the metallic sting of blood floods your nose and you gag.

Words seem to blur together, a mixture of ‘why’ and ‘come back, please.’ Seemed to be the only ones that came out coherently as you collapse and slam your fists repeatedly against the floor.

“Mommy, why did you do this? Why did you leave me?” You sob softly, hesitantly touching her face, ice cold to the touch, a quick check of her pulse showed she was gone, but you could tell from the colour still draining from her face that this was recent. Another choked sob escapes your lips as you turn away from her and spot something sitting on the bathroom sink. A letter.

You scramble to grab it and tear it open.

Y/n, if you’re reading this, you’ve gotten home safely and seen me by now. Please know this isn’t your fault love, I just couldn’t bear this anymore. You know that ever since your father left I’ve struggled, you were the only reason I still wanted to stay alive baby, but it’s too much. Everyday I wake up and I have no reason to stay. I was fired not too long ago, lost all my friends to my absence, and lost everything.

Please forgive me. I love you so much, angel, and I’m so so proud of you, I’m resting now baby. I’m finally free.

The paper starts to crinkle as your hands tighten to fists, your tears spill like rivers down your face and your breathing grows rapid as your head falls into your hands.

“P-Please don’t go… You’re all I have, I-I can’t lose you.” You sob, pushing her hair back against her forehead in the soothing manner she had always done for you.

“Please, please, please. I can’t lose you mom… I-I still haven’t told you about this boy at school, t-the test I aced in potions even though professor Snape hates me, all the house points I got, mom there's still so much I have to tell you…” You sniffle, pressing a kiss to her head as you sit back on your heels and push the tears from your eyes to no avail.

“I got your-your every flavoured beans mom, I was hoping we could share them as I told you, maybe I would get an earwax one and you would laugh.” You stutter as the tears flood your eyes again. “I miss your laugh so much mom, please, can I hear it one more time.” You beg, refusing to move from your spot on the floor next to your mother, holding her head in your arms as you begged and prayed for her to come back, going as far as to try and perform magic to heal her wounds and bring her back.

But even magic couldn’t bring her back, and she’d want more for you than to be expelled for uselessly trying to save her.

Eventually the metallic scent became more than you could bear, you pushed yourself away, swallowing your sobs and closing the door behind you. You had no clue what you were going to do with her, but that would be a problem you’d face another day. Your breathing began to race, your heart pounded a million miles a second and the overwhelming feeling of being trapped settled around you, squeezing you into a box you could not escape from, pushing from all sides until you were clawing at yourself to escape your imagined prison.

It was too much. You run down the hallway to your mother’s room and collapse in front of her cabinet, trembling as you tug open the bottom drawer and grab a small cylindrical container with her name on it.

You knew this was a terrible idea, these were strong muggle painkillers meant to help a grown adult, not a teen.

But the looming dread was too much to ignore, too much to bear, too much to even think about. Your mother’s lifeless body flashed through your head, painfully embedding itself into every inch of your memory until it burned.

You pour an unknown amount into your hand and throw them into your mouth, swallowing them dry and collapsing onto the floor in a fit of anger at your actions and pain. Pain so blinding it swallowed your rage, filling your entire being with a convulsing sadness, and as the meds began to kick in, an artificial peace.

New sunlight shines through the closed blinds onto your closed eyes and you finally stir, sitting upright holding your head in your hands, clueless for a moment what you were doing on the floor. Scanning the room, the burning memory hits you like a punch to the face and you freeze, resisting the urge to empty whatever sat in your stomach onto the floor.

“What am i going to do?” You murmur to yourself, glancing around helplessly for something, someone to hold on too, but alas, you sit alone, clutching a pill bottle in your hands.

You eventually snapped to your senses, called a muggle ambulance to help you get your mother out of the tub and before you knew it, you were standing in a flowerless field as two workers lowered your mother into the ground. They offered you condolences and convincing frowns, but to them this was just another job. One more person laid to rest, no care to know what tragic story was buried in the heart of the one person standing at the funeral.

They left without a word you stood at the headstone, engraving the image into your mind.

‘m/n l/n, finally at peace.’

You convinced yourself reading those carved words would have your feelings set in stone. She was at peace now, finally free from her suffering. But it wasn’t that simple, how could it be?

The last family you had ever known was gone, ripped from your arms and held so far above you, there was no possible way you could reach her.

You trudged back home with a permanent feeling of dread looming over you, again your heart begged to have the pain lifted, even for a moment, just to feel alright. And there was only one way you could think of.

“This always helped take the edge off her…” You murmur, digging through your mother’s drawer again to find an untouched box of cigarettes sitting at the bottom.

“This will help…” You convince yourself, taking the box and standing again, slowly trudging out the front door and sitting on the front porch.

“Everything’s gonna be okay.” You murmur lifting a cigarette to your lips and lighting it like you’d seen your mother do many times before.

Inhaling deeply, you barely flinch as the smooth taste of smoke coats your throat. You exhale as you look up into the sky and sigh, it was going to be a long summer.

It almost became an immediate response for stress to pull a cigarette from your pocket and stick it in your mouth, you didn’t particularly enjoy it, but in a twisted way, the smell reminded you of your mother, and you clutched onto anything that reminded you of her.

When you didn’t have cigarettes you turned to alcohol, your mother hadn’t been much of a drinker, but gifts of different drinks were common when her friends came over were common, and they sat untouched in a cabinet in the basement.

The taste of many of them were bitter, but if you drank enough the taste simply didn’t matter and the buzz took over.

Letters from your friends slowly piled on your window as owls came and went as you threw back fire whiskey and stared into space talking to yourself and shooing away the owls who stared at you strangely before flapping away.

When you weren’t at home you went into the small town nearby and bought anything advertised to take the pain away, no one seemed to pay you any mind, many seemed to be going through it as well, to caught up in their own realities to give a shit about a girl buying sleep medication and painkillers, no matter how strong.

You dove deeper into your pain, taking something every night to lull away the nightmares and ignore the pain. Drinking and smoking in the day to cover the tears and help you forget for a couple hours.

Some days were better than others, when you could just sit outside and enjoy the fresh summer air, but others your anxiety caged you up and you did anything to escape.

One late August afternoon a snowy white owl lands beside you on your front porch as you twiddle your thumbs and hum softly.

It drops the letter directly onto your lap and waits staring up at you expectantly as if asking you to open the envelope and read it to them.

“Alright, I get the message.” You yawn, sitting up and ripping the paper off the top of the letter and pulling a piece of parchment into your hand.

You clear your throat and begin, “dear y/n..

I hope you’re doing well, you haven’t responded to any of my letters yet and I’ve been very worried, Ron and Hermione have told me you haven’t been answering them either and we’re all hoping you’re safe. School’s starting up again and I’m looking forward to seeing you, take care.

Harry Potter.”

The owl looks at you again, and you wondered if it actually thought you were going to respond.

“Sorry pal, I’m not writing anything back. Here, for your troubles.” You nod, placing three knuts in front of the bird. The snowy owl looked down at the money oddly before ruffling his feathers and flying away, leaving you alone once again.

“Harry.” You sigh, sipping on a glass of water. You had completely forgotten you had promised to write to your friends over the summer, almost forgotten your life completely as you tried to focus on keeping yourself alive.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” You sigh, setting down your cup and resting your head against your knees.

Summer blew by much faster once you realized how close the first day back really was, but there you were standing in the empty street hailing a cab to travel back to your station.

You pull your sweater closer to you as your leg shakes furiously and your breathing grows rapidly blowing through every possible bad scenario that crosses your mind. The disappointed faces of your old friends, laughter, teasing, each thought clouds your thoughts. A cold sweat breaks out and you can almost feel yourself slipping when a voice pulls you out.

“Um, miss? We’re here.” The cab driver says, glancing back at you worried.

“O-Oh, thank you.” You clear your throat, handing him his payment and stepping out of the car and grabbing your suitcase.

Taking a deep breath you wipe the sweat from your forehead and walk to the magical platform, bracing yourself as always before stepping through the brick border.

Loud and bustling, you quietly walk towards the Hogwarts Express, but instead of walking to your usual compartment where you knew the golden trio would be sitting you strode all the way down to the back of the train and sat in an empty seat.

Glancing around, you make sure the coast is clear before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, instantly feeling a rush of relief as you take a deep breath in and out.

You watched as the trees disappeared behind the window and the sky shone above, but it didn’t feel right. You didn’t get the usual rush of excitement and joy, in fact you almost felt worse the closer you got to Hogwarts. You close the blinds hurriedly and sit back in your seat.

“No I-I’m sure I saw her come this way.” A voice calls out not too far from you.

“Harry, We’ve been down this way three times already!”

Harry.

“Fuck.” You whisper, pulling the hood of your sweater over your head and keeping your eyes trained on the floor.

“Mate we gotta get changed into our uniforms, we’ll see her at the feast.” Ron sighs, probably pulling Harry away as their voices fade away and you’re left alone again.

You curse yourself for hiding. Why were you hiding from the people you loved? What were you so afraid of?

The answer lay plain as day, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

You were afraid of them seeing you like this. Broken down, exhausted, and with a cigarette sticking past your lip.

That did remind you, your uniform.

Covering the compartment windows with your jacket, you quickly swap your hoodie for your collared shirt and a tie. Running a brush through your hair you menatlly prepare yourself to re-enter your life, a life that no longer seemed like yours. Stepping off the Hogwarts express, it felt like you were seeing your past life, a flash of familiarity you no longer knew, a warmth you could recognize that was no longer for you.

You recoil softly at the shiver running down your spine, but push forwards, walking along surrounded by the sea of students.

Reaching where the carriages usually were, you look up expecting the usual strangeness of being pulled by an invisible force, but stumble backwards at the sight of a dark, nightmarish horse standing before you.

It’s eyes seemed to narrow, glaring daggers at you that seemed to pierce your very soul. You quickly climb into a carriage with some random students and stare out the windows the entire ride.

Their quiet chatter is drowned out by your thoughts, coming up with a way to avoid the golden trio at all cost seemed to be a top priority, followed by the need to down some firewhisky to get your mind off everything.

You kept repeating to yourself everything would be okay, just make it up the stairs, around the pillars, dodge anyone that seemed to be walking in your direction and hurry up to your dormitory. Collapsing into the bed that was now called yours you sigh and bunch the blankets into your fists and breathe properly for the first time since you left your house. Your roommates had yet to show and you were grateful for the alone time. Your hands finally stopped shaking, your sweat finally stopped and your breathing evened. You finally work up the strength to unzip your suitcase and pull the small container of firewhiskey you had brought out of your bag. You unscrew it and take a small sip, allowing the burning liquid to slowly take your edge off and calm you down. You sat for a moment nursing the bottle against your lips, contemplating whether or not it would be smart to go down to the great hall for the feast. You were starving and needed food, but you couldn’t face anyone in this state. Glancing at your faint reflection on the window you swallow at the unfamiliarity of the person staring back at you. Where had the happy girl you once were gone? And who was the stranger you were looking at? Your summer had been restless and difficult, of course. But had it really been enough to shake you to the point you didn’t recognize yourself?

What a stupid question. You almost laugh to yourself, tilting your head back again and drinking a little more. Drinking was supposed to take your mind off your situation, not have you overthink even more.

After a while of sitting and glaring out the window you finally pick yourself up, tuck away your firewhiskey and straighten your uniform. You make your way down towards the great hall, walking slowly down the halls you used to run through. Staring in boredom at the carvings and paintings on the wall you used to admire with awe. Keeping your mouth shut when you used to laugh down these corridors.

Finally reaching the great hall the sorting ceremony was still in full swing, playing as a distraction while you slipped to your table.

You sit and nod hello to the students surrounding you, giving them empty excuses on why you were late, and half-heartedly listening to their stories.

Your only thought at the moment was to eat and keep your head down, become invisible if you must.

Harry glances around the great hall anxiously looking for your face. He had barely touched his food, hardly clapped at the new students being sorted into their houses, barely talked to Hermione and Ron as they watched Harry worriedly.

Harry had only one thought on his mind, find you. See if you were alright, hug you in his arms and tell you he missed you, ask you about your summer and ask you to Hogsmeade like he was too afraid to last year. He had so much planned, all he was missing was you.

Just as Ron opens his mouth to tell Harry to quit for a moment and just eat, he catches sight of familiar h/c hair. Longer than he remembered, but no doubtebly yours. Standing in a hurry Harry runs off leaving Ron and Hermione confused, glancing over to see where the brunette had run off to.

Your head snaps up as you hear footsteps approach you and just in time you see Harry running towards you. His green eyes were alight in joy. His tousled brown hair was shorter and he looked older, more mature. Your heart drops as you frantically try and hide your face. He couldn’t see you like this, what on earth would he think?

“Y/n, there you are I’ve been looking for you!”

Bloody hell, his voice had gotten deeper too. Still holding that boyish grin that you loved so much.

“Y/n? A-Are you okay?”

Go away. You pleaded in your head, refusing to look up into the green eyes you’d fallen for.

Harry refuses to give up and attempts to reach out and take your hand.

His skin makes contact with yours and you flinch away, finally giving in and removing your hands from your face.

“What do you want?” You snap unintentionally, cringing inwardly at what you had just done.

“I-I just wanted to say hi-- are you alright?-” Harry asks furrowing his eyebrows, was that firewhiskey he smelled on your breath?

“I’m fine, could you please leave me alone?” Your voice is softly this time, but still with a cold edge.

Harry’s eyes blink in confusion, as he glances around and open and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. This was not the reunion he was expecting, heck this didn’t seem like you at all. Regardless, he nods and slowly walks away, looking back every now and again to see you holding your head in your hands and eventually standing and leaving in a huff, were those tears he saw streaming down your eyes?

“Did you find her mate?” Ron asks as Harry takes a seat.

“Yeah-yeah. Listen, something's wrong.” Harry states, explaining the confrontation he had with you. Slowly the two other gryffindors expressions fade to concern as well.

“And you’re sure it was firewhiskey?” Hermione questions, pursing her lips.

“I’m afraid so, I-I don’t know what to do.” Harry sighs defeated.

“Give her some time, perhaps she just had a bad day?” Ron suggests.

“Sounds more like a horrible summer.” Hermione sighs, worried for her friend.

“I’m gonna go look for her, I don’t want her alone at a time like now.” Harry nods, not waiting for his friend’s reactions before running off to find you.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You curse yourself, unsure where you were running too. You simply follow your feets as you angrily wipe tears from your eyes and cry in the empty hallways. As you run the image of Harry’s shocked face plays over and over again in your head, taunting you, trying to prove to you what kind of person you had become. Your feet lead you down another corridor and before you know it you’re climbing up a flight of stairs and fighting for breath while digging your fingers into your hands to keep yourself from sobbing to loudly. You had let him down. You had let everyone you love down, you let your mother down, you let yourself down. Maybe if you had spent more time at home your mother would have found a reason to stay, if you just didn’t go to the magic school and stayed with her she’d be alive and there to guide you. You miss her so much everyday. You collapse onto the cool ground of what must have been the astronomy tower you glance down at your hands and realize you’ve been squeezing too tight and hot blood is beginning to flow down your palm. You gag as the sight brings you back to the beginning of the summer. The start of your hell. Instinctively you pull a cigarette from your pocket and bring it to your lips, lighting it and before you know what you’re doing, walking to the edge of the tower.

There wasn’t anything left for you here. Your mother was gone, you had successfully avoided your friends and the person you loved had seen you for who you truly were. You were ready, and you couldn’t think of any place you’d rather go then your favourite place at Hogwarts.

The place you’d spent so many nights gazing at the stars. The place you’d realized you had fallen in love, looking into the green eyes of Harry Potter while watching the planets shine above you and the stars twinkle.

Harry, the person you were so excited to tell your mother about. The boy who made you smile and laugh every day you were with him. You would miss him. Miss his smile, his tousled hair you loved to play with, miss his voice.

As you take one final drag from your cigarette, your feet just over the edge, you look up towards the sky. You see the moon shining, the trees swaying in the distance, nature in all it’s peace, calling to you.

A feeling like your mother’s arms wraps around you, and for a moment you can see her, feel her. “I’m coming mom, we’ll be together soon.”

Taking a step forward you look down at the ground, almost smiling softly before looking back up at the sky, where you’d join your mom and--

“Y/n!” A pair of real arms wrap around you and pull you away from the edge. Squeezing you against their chest and sobbing into your hair.

Why were they crying? Why weren’t you with your mother yet…?

“Y/n what are you doing?”

Harry. You realize, and as he raises his head and you come eye to eye, you see his eyes clouding with hot tears behind his glasses. You lift your hand and wipe them.

“Why are you crying?” You ask, dropping your hand again and realizing you had accidentally smeared blood on his face.

“I-I could have lost you! What were you doing so close to the edge?” Harry asks, pleading for answers as he holds you close against him.

“Isn’t it obvious?” You smile as though he had just asked the silliest thing.

“There’s nothing left here for me. My mother’s gone, she killed herself when I got home for summer. My dad left us when I was just a baby. I’ve managed to get Ron and Hermione to stop worrying and you’ll never like me back.” You sigh, looking down at your hands and reaching into your pocket again.

“What? Y/n, I-I’m so sorry.” Harry murmurs, placing his forehead against yours as you raise a cigarette to your lips.

“S’ alright.”

Harry’s eyes widen and he slaps the cigarette from your lips.

“You’re drinking and smoking?” He shouts.

“I’ve got painkillers and sleep medication too, anything that’ll get my mind off things.” You shrug, struggling in Harry’s arms as you try and escape.

“Y/n, these things are going to kill you!”

“Good! Maybe I want to die Harry! Maybe I can’t take being alone anymore, and maybe I know these things will kill me so I use them. I want to see her again Harry! I want to not be alone, I want to erase everything I saw, I want to be me again.” You cry, lifting your hands to your face and using your bloody hands to wipe your tears away.

“But I can’t! I still go back to smoking, drinking, using pills to take the pain away and I still. Can’t. Forget!” You continue, bawling into Harry’s shoulder as he holds you.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.” You shriek, trying again to escape Harry’s grip, but he refuses to let go.

“Darling look at me.”

You don’t stop.

“Please Y/n, just look at me.” Hary pleads again.

When you don’t stop this time, he finally gives in and leans towards you. Ignoring the blood, tears and taste of smoke, to press his lips to yours.

You freeze and Harry keeps himself there. Waiting for your breathing to even out and your heartbeat to stop racing.

Your eyes close and you pause as Harry finally pulls away and takes your face into his hands.

“Y/n, you mother wouldn’t have wanted her daughter to go like this. She would’ve wanted you to be happy and live the life she never had. Darling, from the way you’d always talk about her I know she loves you very much, she doesn’t want you to die.” Harry murmurs pressing a kiss to your eyes and nose.

“Ron and Hermione were worried about you y/n, they just respect your privacy and didn’t want to intrude.” He continues drying you tears with his thumb and peppering kisses down your cheeks.

“They love and care for you so much love. They don’t want you to die.”

Harry pauses for a moment and lifts your lips to his, this time deepening the kiss and moving your lips in sync with his.

“And I… I’m in love with you y/n. I wish I’d had the guts to tell you sooner but I was always too nervous.”

“But look at me now Harry. I’m a mess. I-I’m not the same person.” You murmur, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

“Y/n nothing could ever change the fact I love you. You lost your mother, you can’t expect yourself to just be alright.” Harry sighs.

“I still get nightmares about my parents, I see them collapse and have the life drained from them in mere moments.”

“Y/n after everything, you’re my light. You’re what keeps me motivated everyday to keep going. And I’m not going to let my light die if I could have stopped it.”

You pause and choke back a sob as you glance up into Harry’s eyes and once again melt into the soft green.

“I’m here for you darling, always and forever, whenever you need me, whatever you need, we’ll support each other.” Harry smiles.

This time you engage the kiss, grateful as you relish in the pure moment of happiness.

“Thank you Harry.” You smile weakly.

“Now why don’t you tell me about your mom?” Harry suggests, sitting you down and pulling his wand out of his pocket.

As you ramble on about childhood stories, funny jokes and happy memories Harry smiles and listens, healing your hands and holding them in his.

You spend the rest of the evening laying against his shoulder and gazing up at the stars. Harry places kisses against your head, cheeks and nose every now and again, and even though you knew there was still a long road to walk before you could truly say you felt change, you smiled a little and realized.

Nature wasn’t calling you join it, it was reminding you of the beauty you would be missing. The stars weren’t inviting you up, they were shining to show all the wonders you loved.

And your mother wasn’t embracing you from afar to push you forwards, she was edging you back. Back into Harry’s arms.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter angst #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #angst

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owo-shenanigans · 3 years

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Hajime, Korekiyo and Ibuki with a fem reader who’s the ultimate love interest? Basically is really good at being the perfect soulmate both platonically and romantically? I feel like these three would be interesting!!!!

This is so interesting????? Wtf man. Gender ambiguous reader, though I did write this from the perspective of the perfect female love interest at times. It might come across as me dissing your idea and I promise I don't mean it in that way- I just took it in the most interesting way that I could. I loved writing these so, so much- I wouldn’t be opposed to writing more, honestly. If anyone needs a CW or TW on this, let me know please.

Hajime, Korekiyo, and Ibuki with an Ultimate Love Interest S/O

HAJIME HINATA

You were scouted because one of the board members saw you and thought you were the cutest little thing he’d ever seen, and after the board investigated, they saw how everyone you meet can’t help but at least like you as a friend.

When you were told this, you were terrified. These creeps stalked you? For some stupid talent that no one can even quantify?! You were only 15, for god’s sake!

You… Don’t like practicing your ultimate. You try to stay away from the other ultimates, too. You don’t want to brainwash people! Or force them to be your friend!

Hajime came across you hiding in the library from the teacher attempting to make you go to your Talent Development class. He helped you keep a lookout, and, well, your relationship evolved from there.

Contrary to belief, Hajime doesn’t hate ultimates- he hates how the school feels like it only cares about the ultimates and not the reserve course students.

Your relationship develops slowly, and you only tell him your talent after a few months of friendship. How do they even tell you’re the Ultimate Love Interest? So many people have such different standards for their crush…

You probably confess your feelings to him when they try to take him away for the Kamakura project. You just saw red- first they force you into a little box and pick at any part that isn’t pretty and lovable, and now they want to take one of your only friends away?! Absolutely not. Thankfully (or not), your talent was able to save him from the project- this had the potential to gather more data about your talent, after all, if you have a partner.

Hajime probably helps you study at online school, after you confided that the main course barely taught anything actually useful. What could the Ultimate Love Interest do after high school with no new knowledge and a worthless scrap of paper? The Ultimate Mechanic could open a shop, the Ultimate Nurse work in a hospital- what could you do, write blog posts advocating for deeper characters in dating sims?

You make him reevaluate his perspective on Hope’s Peak, for sure.

KOREKIYO SHINGUJI

You were a lab grown specimen- the brain baby senior project by a whole group of ultimates, directed by the school directors. Could they create a person who holds the ultimate talent of something so subjective as Love? The students were directed to make an artificial intelligence that could make anyone love it. They were directed to make a body that would make no one unhappy. They were directed to make a creature that no one could hate.

You were born.

From the moment you opened your softly colored eyes, you were consuming data from dozens of the top dating sims, romance novels, online websites- carefully vetted by your parents so as not to corrupt you. You downloaded the latest fashion trends and taught how to make everyone happy without being wishy washy. You were perfect.

Your parents graduated, and weren’t allowed to take you with them. You were dressed in a cute school uniform and directed to act as human as possible- if you were revealed as an AI, the directors would pull you from your classes.

You joined the 79th class, and made fast friends with every one of them. Kokichi liked you because you liked his jokes, Miu liked you because you never made fun of her, Himiko liked you because you defended her lazy personality… Everyone liked you.

A month into the school year, your classmate Korekiyo tapped you on the shoulder and asked to interview you.

He asked you dozens of questions about your talent, how it worked, why you were chosen and why others weren’t. It was stressful. But it was the first time anyone had cared about you, yourself, as a person, and not what you did for them. You were hooked.

You spoke to him every day, unable to help yourself. Korekiyo, for his part, was happy to talk to you. Your classmates grew jealous as you spent less time with them and more with Korekiyo. The directors were confused- had they programmed in the ability to love? Or the emotion of curiosity?

They held off taking you in to examine you- if worst came to worst and you weren’t gathering enough data, they could always pull you out and wipe your memories of him.

IBUKI MIODA

You were human, yes, but sometimes you didn’t feel as if you were.

You were blessed with a beautiful, flawless face, and your body was one in a million. You were scouted to be an actor at the tender age of 12, and your life evolved into one of constant watch, constant judgement, constant etiquette classes and diets and everything to make you the darling of the media. You were quickly dubbed the cutest kid in film, which evolved into the Ultimate Love Interest before you hit the age of 14. Your life wasn’t your own. You weren’t allowed to consume anything that hadn’t been vetted for bad influences, you were severely punished for any words that weren’t kind and sweet.

You were a sweet dream living a nightmare. When the invitation to Hope’s Peak came in, you almost weren’t allowed to go- Hope’s Peak was notorious for not allowing outside influences in unless under strict supervision. What if you were corrupted?! You only managed to go because the paparazzi had seen the Hope’s Peak crest on your mail and raised a media storm about it, crying how the Ultimate Love Interest was attending the esteemed Hope’s Peak Academy.

Your manager was forced to let you go. But not without piling up the lessons even more, to make sure you wouldn’t be ruined.

Your first day at Hope’s Peak, you had a breakdown in your bedroom. Your schedule only had 4 things on the agenda- what were you supposed to do? Your purity would be ruined if you did anything wrong.

That was when Ibuki knocked softly on your door. You had never heard of her- you weren’t allowed to know of uncultured things such as rock music. She had heard you crying and offered to help if she could.

Ibuki became your emotional rock, and she helped you organize a schedule for yourself. Her peppy cheeriness was a stark contrast to your deep neuroticism. The rest of your class didn’t know your issues, but Ibuki helped you slowly look out from the walls that your media assigned talent had built around you.

When the photo of you laughing and smiling with Ibuki broke to the media, she helped you weather the storm that your fans sent, and barricaded your room from your manager when they stormed Hope’s Peak to get you out.

After a year at Hope’s Peak, you lost your talent of Ultimate Love Interest. And with it, you lost the cage that had trapped you within your own mind ever since you were 12.

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa imagines #hajime x reader #korekiyo x reader #ibuki x reader #korekiyo shinguuji x reader

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sxfik · 3 years

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han seo headcanons (part 4)

writing this is cathartic tbh. of course, i always write on the days i have an exam to prep for (aka my lit exam tmrw thats technically today)!! we make good life decisions here at clown nation <3

< prev

read on ao3

tw: mentions of abuse

the first time they competed, vincenzo was away on his buisness trip to italy. he had some loose ends to tie up after his little contract and getting paulo off the helm of the mafia.

which meant that jipuragi was particularly empty without the italian-korean's presence. no one to give han seo a pat on his back. no one to look over cha-young's shoulder.

they all felt it hard, as if the firm had a huge hole where vincenzo is supposed to be

han seo felt himself looking at his desk every single time he passed by it. the first day was more jarring than the rest, he had gotten used to vincenzo's presence in his life.

it was a particularly late friday night at jipuragi. han seo lugged into the firm a gigantic stack of contracts and internal documents about babel so the laywers and him can go through each one. cha-young had to carry both her and vincenzo's load for that week with vincenzo in italy.

they were stressed and tired and had a million paper cuts from sorting through each pile of documents. all three of them were working quietly, the silence comfortable, save for the sounds of russling paper and pens scratching across notepads

"alright, i'm off for the night. i have a airplane competition tomorrow morning and i need jason to fly far for me so i can finally win that 500 dollar prize. goodnight byeonosanim, mr. jang" the paralegal said as he put on his satchel and took out his cycle. he waved his goodbyes as the he left, leaving han seo and cha-young in the office by themselves.

they had only known each other for two weeks, really. han seo always met his hyung vincenzo over drinks or over at his house. he only ever saw the pretty lawyer from a distance, usually when taking note of how his hyung vincenzo dotes over her just so he can tease him about her

and use her to distract his hyung

it always works

cha-young didn't know much about the young ceo, despite meeting him a couple times from her time at wusang. part of her never wanted to trust him, even though he had proven himself and his loyalty to vincenzo, because in the world she lived in, everyone could betray the other at any time

but his presence in the office was comforting to her. he had come in, dressed like an 80s disco star and all asking if he could join the team, and somehow, he stuck with her.

something in her wanted to trust him. he seemed unassuming and loyal to the core, especially to vincenzo. the way he always walked into the firm grinning, visiting the plaza residents. he had an energy about him that reminded him of a younger sibling she's always wanted

but she was burned once with prosecutor jung and she's learned her lesson so it was time for the ultimate test

"are you hungry?" she asked, shuffling through her papers one last time before standing up, and putting the stacks back into their file system

han seo was startled for a second, his head buried deep with in the papers, the words almost swimming together with the amount of times he had to look through these contracts

for a second, he thought she was speaking to vincenzo, not himself before he remembered that vincenzo wasn't here this week

"Oh yes, byeonosanim. Would you like to order something or..?" he'd replied as he stood up from his seat, giving his legs a strech. he had forgotten just how tired he was until she asked him, his body feeling the effects of running the company and being at jipuragi

"Yeah, we can. I have the perfect restaurant to get some food from! they're always open late too so it's really convenient" she quipped back, her back facing him as she started putting all the contracts back into place and started pulling out new ones to look over

he followed suit, clearing up the table he was working on and moving to the paralegal’s desk.

even though his work was often hard for him to understand, the legal and formal language needing multiple reads, he felt refreshed each time he came to the plaza

he'd established a daily routine here, going to check on the hee-soo at the snack bar, visiting the pawnshop

he's quite good with his hands. he'd always known he had a knack for taking things apart and fixing them, which especially helped at the pawnshop when college students and older families would come by with broken tablets and gadgets.

even though he was rich, barely anything was spent on him when his dad was alive. every single new outfit or toy always went to han-seok, where as he was stuck with the ragged hand me downs, and old toys.

so when he had gotten his first phone, and broken the keypad, (because han seok threw it across the room when he got angry that he had the same model as his illegitimate brother) he understood it was up to him to figure it out.

he was always good at taking things apart, from all his toy cars to majority of the gadgets and clocks he had in his house.

(there was a day, when he was younger, that he took apart han seok's toy car. the next school day he walked around with gloves, trying to forget about how his cuts hurt as he curled his fingers around a pencil)

taking things apart and then putting them back together the same way was somehow natural to him. but of course, none of that mattered since he couldn't score well enough on his exams to get past the courses he needed to into engineering. plus, he could imagine the sneer on his father's face if he told him what path he was considering...

for most of his life, he'd felt useless compared to his brother. he was never the quick-witted boy at school, failing his english courses and having to go to cram schools and tutoring sessions just to pass by.

he hated going to school everyday, having the teachers shame him for not being as smart as his brother, not being as charismatic or as smooth talking

the exam days were always the worst. looking at the exam sheet, his palms sweaty and his throat tight as he looked at the questions

the doubt was overwhelming. the pressure made him sweat and freeze up even though he knew the problems.

the kids at his schools always seemed to prefer han seok, for some weird reason, when to him he's always been the menace in his life.

han seok was the one to head the company. the one he can't measure up to in front of his father. the one to push the family forward. every bit of praise, every second of attention, it all went to han seok.

han seo was the mistake. the one who always fucked it up. the one who seemed to mess up his brother's plans.

his brother seemed to take it upon himself to remind him that he wasn't meant to be alive. and their father, believing it to be good for han seo, would force him to be tutored by han seok every day.

his brother had a field day with it, finding the most creative ways to abuse and torture him

of course, he's not allowed to say a word about it.

at first, working at jipuragi was anxiety inducing, sweat drenching his shirt each time he brought a document he thought useful to vincenzo, his throat closing up imagining the consequences of fucking up

he knew deep down, that vincenzo wasn't like his brother, he will not hurt him, he will not kill him

but the anxiety and panic are second nature to him

his eyes were glued to his shoes after he handed it over to vincenzo.

vincenzo paused, looking over the document with scrutiny. and his body was automatically bracing for a slap, a punch. at the very least a snide remark or a sneer.

instead he looked up at han seo, nodding, and told him "this is very useful. thank you."

thank you.

thank you. he blinked.

the words echoed in his head as he replayed them back over and over. thank you. in all his years working, no one had said thank you. no words of appreciation were ever dealt for doing his job. for doing something right.

unable to think of a reply, he walked back to his desk and sat down, the shock overwhelming him before he got his mind working again

although it took him double the time to go through the contracts than it did vincenzo or cha-young, he was never berated. there was never a comment about how slow he was, how he wasn't cut out for this, only appriciative glances and words when he did well

and when he didn't, they corrected him, gently. never maliciously, never taunting, always gentle.

and for the first time, he could breathe

the time passed by quickly as they both continued working in silence, han seo finishing up half a stack before the doorbell rang.

"i'll get it! ceo jang, can you set the table up?" cha-young looked toward as she went to grab the food from the delivery man

"yes, byeonosanim" he replied as he went to grab some disposable plates and wooden chopsticks from the cabinet

he set everything out just in time for the lawyer to set the food down. he squinted at the bowls she pulled out, the bright red liquid a stark contrast to the white containers.

"uh, byeonosanim, what is that?"

"hm? oh it's fire noodles. you don't mind spice do you, han seo?" she quirked her eyebrow at him, her voice sickly sweet

and he grinned at her and that was enough of an answer: it was showdown time.

so there he was, sitting across from cha-young, the container of red chili oil central to both of them. both of their suit coats were off, lest they start literally heating up.

oh, and if either of them reach for their water: they're out.

for about 10 seconds, they stared at each other, trying to psych each other out, before his phone timer counted down.

....3, 2, 1 and they were off!

both of them grabbed their chopsticks and spoons and ate two large bites and drank the broth before angling for one spoon full of chili oil into their noodles.

and on they went in this cycle, eating a bite and drinking broth, and pouring chili oil in after each cycle.

3 pours in, and they were still doing good, neither of them showing any signs of redness

6 pours in and his tongue was swollen, her eyes watery, their broth bright red

7 pours in and .... was it just him or was the room getting hotter?

8 and you could see the sweat dripping the lawyer's forehead, the sniffles of the lawyer getting louder and louder. meanwhile he was panting, trying to increase the circulation into his mouth

9 and their arms meet across the table, inches from the chili oil. their eyes lock, their faces bright red and the pain of his tongue unbearable

his eyes are squinted (from his eyes burning or from concentration, we'll never know) and the lawyer is making faces, trying to get him to give in

"it'll" *huff* "be easier" *huff* "if you give in now" *huff*

he laughed back, in response. "and let you win? no way. I'M getting that paper crown"

their eyes both glance at the flimsy, blue paper crown set upon it's carrier, a stack of contracts

she scoffed back (and almost choked) "absolutely not"

they stare each other down as they pour more in and go for another round

they swallow and in that second, cha-young made a fatal mistake

she breathed in the fumes. and coughed. and grabbed the water before she could think about it.

"AHAHA I WIN!!" he yelled out, the chair flying back as he jumped up, the layer of sweat easing up when he grabbed the bottle of water and chugged the whole thing down

the lawyer on the other hand, was slumped in the seat, taking the opportunity to also chug the water.

for around 10 seconds all they did was pant, getting their bodies back into a normal pace before cha-young spoke up

"fine i guess you win, have a great night!" she jabbered out quickly but he knew what she was trying to do

"nuh uh, nope, you're not getting out of this. we agreed! loser has to crown the winner." he grinned at her, his eyes completely closed as his happiness shone through

sighing, the lawyer grabbed the crown from it's holy pedastal and stomped over.

"tun ta da da !!! all hail king han seo, destroyer of spice, the unyielding one" she sang out, her voice deeper as traces of laughter tinted her voice

she placed the crown upon his name and bowed, "may he reign forever" and looked up and shot him a wink "at least, until i win next time"

he struck a superman pose, and puffed his chest out, before both of them crumbled into laughter, cha-young dramatic one ringing above his cackling

"we should do this again please, noona!" he wheezed out, his stomach hurting from laughter.

but it was only his ringing out, as hers cut out sharply.

"noona?"

he paused as his head whipped around to the lawyer, her head tilted as she looked at him

did i say that? i swear i called her byeonosanim... and he replayed the moment.

fuck.

"ah, i'm so sorry hong cha young byeonosanim, i overstepped, i apologize," he bowed in apology to her.

"do you call vincenzo byeonosanim hyung?"

"huh?" he looked up at her in confusion, "uh, yeah i do call him hyung. why?"

"you can call me noona then." she quipped back and for a second, he stared at her. wait what?

she clapped his back, and he choked on his spit, the clap knocking the air out of him "relax. you passed the test han-seo. i've always wanted a younger brother, you know? you can call me noona. as long as you remember your manners, that is," shooting him a wink

he glanced at her, before breaking out into the biggest grin, his gums peaking out.

"okay... cha-young noona!" he giggled, as they took their seats.

she grinned back, settling in.

"ah, you know noona, he said the same thing as you"

"huh?" she squinted back

"vin hyung! he said the same 'you better mind your manners'" han seo laughed as he mocked the korean-italian mafia's voice

"you know, that impression is spot on!" she laughed as he continued the voice, adding in the classic hand gestures, until both of them broke into laughter.

for some reason, both of them were instantly comfortable with one another.

for han seo, laughing with cha-young, trading insults and teasing felt warm, it felt like he'd found a best friend (a best friend who once upon a time he almost maimed by sending thugs after her, but she swore to him that all is forgiven) they had similar humor, similar tastes, similar personalities

for cha-young, he felt like a partner in crime. not like the way vincenzo her partner in life in crime, but in the way that they were both pranksters, both with similar personalities and bright humor

it felt like finding a sibling, a person to commit crimes with, a person to clown together with

"you know, noona, is vin hyung..." he paused mid-sentence, contemplating if he could ask this.

"go on, han seo" cha-young encouraged him, one hand bringing the bottle of water to her mouth

"is he your boyfriend?" he rushed out the words and—

he was sprayed in the face.

cha-young was sputtering as the water dripped off his face, and his eyes shut as he wiped off the excess

"yah, why would you even ask that?" she scoffed out refusing to meet his eyes, but he could see the red tint creeping up on her neck and her cheeks

he shot her a look.

"yeah, yeah okay. he and i are... partners"

"oh." he quipped back, a sinister smile slowly spreading across his face

"no, no, no" she shook her at him, "i do not have a crush on him"

he raised an eyebrow back "who said anything about a crush hm, noona?"

she froze and he knew he'd have next weeks entertainment sorted

"you know maybe i'll take back that younger brother thing if this is how it's like" she taunted, but he didn't feel any hurt. instead her teasing just made his heart soar, her teasing somehow a comfort

"oh, we're just getting started!" he quipped back, as they cleaned up for the night, continuing their conversation as they restored the firm back to order.

"i've noticed you going to the pawnshop a lot recently" she noted, as she grabbed a stack of contracts to put back into the filing cabinet

"ahh, yeah i've been helping them out. they're having a baby you know and it must be hard on both of them to run the shop" he responded as he stacked another set of contracts together, clearing Mr. Nam's desk

"you should do it."

"what?"

"study electronics. or at least continue working for the pawnshop."

he stared at her.

how did she know? for someone so bright and busy he didn't expect her to be so observant to him.

"oh please, like it's hard to notice. i've seen the way you always seem to be happier as you pass by the pawnshop. when i popped in during lunch, i saw you, hunched over the tablet. it's the happiest i've seen you look."

"oh." he grew quiet "it's a little too late, don't you think noona? for me to even consider that? i'd be a little foolish to follow that"

she sighed and turned to him, grabbing the stack from his arms. "let me tell you a story han seo. i'm 34 years old and a lawyer and don't get me wrong, i love doing this. but when i was little my dream was always to sing. but for years, i pushed it back, thinking i could never do it."

she stuffed the papers to the back corner, somehow managing to stuff it in and turned back to him.

"so, noona? did you do it?"

"patience. a couple weeks after my final exam for law school, i said why the hell not. and now i've been taking lessons one and off for years!"

"you should give a demo!! sing for us"

"oh, please i couldn't possibly do it" she tucked her hair back, looking bashful.

"ple-" he barely got the words out.

"oh of course, if you insist!" she grabbed the empty water bottle and climbed on her stool, the makeshift stage for the night

"noona! noona!!" han seo cheered her on as she stood up. she cleared her throat, moving her head to the side and warming up

and she opened her mouth.

and sang.

if you could call that singing.

what came out was more of a series of tone-deaf screeches, making him wince but mask his face with a smile, trying to solider through the pain.

he clapped as SOON as she finished the last note, his ears grateful for the break. she took a flourished bow as she jumped off the stool

"how was it?"

"noona, that was amazing!" he lied, trying his best to stop the ringing in his ears.

she smacked him with her water bottle "yah! you liar! i'm god awful" she made one of her classic faces.

"you know??? and you made me endure that???" he touched his ears. he expected to see blood but luckily the damage wasn't too bad

"YAH!" she smacked him again. "you brat, the point isn't that i'm good or not."

"then what is?" his eyebrows furrowed as he looked in confusion.

if you're not good at it then what really is the point? why should i keep trying?

"the point is that i'm happy. it doesn't matter how good you are at something for you to consider it an interest, as long as it makes you happy."

he paused. no one had ever said that before. to do what makes him happy. not what made his father or his brother happy. everyone's advice all his life was to stick to what you're good at and that there isn't a point in trying if you aren't good from the beginning.

"look i'm terrible at singing. but i know that if i had never pursued it, i would have grown old and regretted it. so what if i am bad! at least i got to do it while i'm alive! give electronics a shot, han seo."

han seo bit his lip slightly. and he nodded.

he was going to give it a shot.

"good! now lets get this cleaned up and go home!" she sashayed off to her desk, grabbing the last of her stuff before they left the firm.

the next week, when vincenzo was back from italy, he had expected to find the firm just like he left it. what he didn't expect was his girlfriend wife partner and brother han seo, one sprawled on the couch and the other on the floor, piles of blankets and what looked like a mic and SEVERAL bottles of sujo scattered across the table.

they were both in matching pajama sets, and snoring very loudly. he shuffled over to his desk where a note that looked like it was written in crayon was left

and it said

"dear vin hyung: noona and i were having a sleepover last night. i made sure she was extra safe and did not do anything overly amitious (like call you in the middle of the night to ask you if you had to leave) if you are seeing the mess that we probably made, please excuse it. i will clean it up as soon as i can. grazie!

p.s. you should ask noona out sometime, i have it in good word that she might be interested ;)

to be continued...

a/n: let this be a fic reminding you that if you are passionate about something, pursue it! our world conditions us to believe that you have to be good at something in order to be able to do it but that's absolute bs. please give your younger and future selves a chance by taking up something you've always wanted to do <3

#mine #vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #chayenzo #hong cha young #song joong ki #tvn vincenzo #jeon yeo been #vincenzo x cha young #han seo supramacy #jang han seo #canon divergence #kwak dong yeon #jang han seok #ok taecyeon

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