#it’s also a cheap course I’m so happy but full time BUT I’ll be done in a year and a half!

[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out

Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3

Five Years Later, 2003

"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.

"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."

"I don't think her name is Stacey though."

You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.

"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."

Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.

Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.

You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.

Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.

The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.

Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.

You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."

Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."

Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.

"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."

You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.

After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.

The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.

You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.

After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.

"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."

She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.

You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"

Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."

"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.

Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.

You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.

Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.

People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.

Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.

Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.

Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.

"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.

"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.

You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.

Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.

"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."

"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.

The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.

Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"

"Auntie ____!"

A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-

"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."

The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.

Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.

“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.

You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.

Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”

Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.

“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.

Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”

A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.

“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”

Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.

It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.

And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.

His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.

His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.

His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.

You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.

He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.

Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.

“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”

You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.

Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.

You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.

You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.

“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.

“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.

You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”

He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”

“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?

It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”

George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“

“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.

“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.

Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!

And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.

You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.

He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.

It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.

The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.

“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.

Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.

He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”

You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.

“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.

You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues

Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”

“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.

Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”

“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”

Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.

Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”

Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.

Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.

Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.

Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)

Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.

He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.

You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.

He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.

You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight.  This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.

“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.

“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.

You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.

You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”

And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.

“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.

“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.

Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.

“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”

“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.

You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.

“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”

“Wha-“

George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”

“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.

Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”

Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”

Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.

“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.

Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.

It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.

And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.

Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.

How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?

Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.

————————

When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.

Jambo’s no different.

So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.

You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.

Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?

It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.

Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.

And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.

What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?

Absolute blasphemy.

Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.

Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.

Of course your logic sucks.

Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.

Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.

Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.

A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.

You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”

You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.

“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.

Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”

Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.

You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.

But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?

The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.

He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-

Woah, down girl.

Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.

“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.

“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”

It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.

The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.

“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”

You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”

You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”

Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”

You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.

“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.

“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”

The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.

He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.

“Alright.” he says softly.

His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.

How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.

“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.

The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.

“Eva!”

Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”

You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”

Fred winces. “Actually-”

“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”

“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”

You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.

Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.

It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.

Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.

But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.

It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.

They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.

Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.

“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”

Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”

You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.

He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”

“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”

Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”

Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”

“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”

Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”

Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”

Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”

You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”

The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.

He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.

“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.

Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.

Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.

“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”

Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”

As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.

Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”

Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”

Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.

You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.

“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.”  he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hp smut #fluff #angst #hp angst #reader insert #george weasley #ginny weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

[nightowlfandom]

Rich! Bad Boy!Min Yoongi- Try Me

Just wanna say if you see your name used here, I don’t have beef with you okay? I had a random name generator in another tab and just used the first name I saw.

Once again someone doesn’t want me to be great so....this might be the only post today because I....dunno I can’t post when I’m not in a good mood and its been real shitty.

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!

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RUN IN HERE AND COME GET Y’ALL JUICE

Leggo!

...

You were practically glued to his side. His arm was tightly wrapped around your waist as he led you across the room. You had perched your designer sunglasses on top of your head to get a clearer look at your surroundings. Why were you wearing sunglasses at night? Because you could, of course.

Your wore a backless floor length gown in one of his favorite colors. He had insisted you wear your fur coat, but you convinced him to let you leave it in the car. You were on full display, not only for him but for anyone else who thought that they had bought the most gorgeous date for the night. That title was forever and always reserved for Min Yoongi’s girl and tonight only proved it more and more. 

He walked with his held held high as if everyone around him was beneath him. His attired screamed ‘try me, bitch’ From his black suit and tie to crisp white dress shirt and shoes that were worth more than someone’s rent for five months. His hair was slicked back and while he didn’t bother to raise his own pair of shades, everyone could see the glare very evident on his face.

You two were the epitome of a power couple, in the most literal sense and everyone respected that.

“Mr. Min! Welcome!” a nervous and frantic looking man rushed up to you. “This must be your beautiful companion for the night.” he bowed repeatedly. So many times that you lost count. He held his hand out for you to take, but you were left to stare awkwardly. You had no idea what to do in that moment. After a second or two you held your hand out, which he shook a bit too aggressively.

Yoongi calmly used his free hand to raise his sunglasses up. “You gettin’ paid to rip my girl’s arm out its socket?”

“Oh! my apologies Mr. Min!” he instantly let your hand go. “I wasn’t aware.”

“You never are.” he scoffed, allowing his shades sit on the top of his head. “Is our table ready or did they send you here to waste our time?”

“You’re fashionably early! Your comrades haven’t arrived yet.” the host stammered. “Follow me!” he practically disappeared through the sea of people. 

“What a tool.” you spoke for the first time since you left the car. “I’ve never seen a bigger kiss-ass in my life.”

“Hm, trust me I’ve met worse. He’s just a dick-rider for the men who really own this place.” He leaned down and spoke into your ear. “Those guys will literally shit on someone else’s table if I tell them to.”

“How riveting.” you rolled your eyes playfully as he led you through the crowd. It was easy for people to get out of your way. One look from your boyfriend and they were hugged the nearest wall or throwing themselves against the various tables set up all over the place. “Remind me again why we’re here?”

“Don’t make that face.” He smirked. “I told you, official business.”

“And we couldn’t do that somewhere less...sleazy?” you scoffed at the old man with five different women on his arm. “Yoongi-”

“It’s only for a few hours.” he assured. “Then after that, we can do whatever you want, okay?”

“You said that last time.” you hid the pout forming on your face.

“You have my word.”

“Or so you say.” you slipped out of his grip. “Until you have more trash take out.” you shook your head as you walked ahead. Yoongi watched you from behind as you walked ahead. Of course you didn’t need him by your side to be considered intimidating. He bit his lip at the idea of ripping that dress off your body when you got back to the hotel. Shit, he might not even manage to keep his hands to himself in the car.

Yoongi joined you at the table. “ You feel like Soju tonight?”

“Depends on if you want me to start fighting or not.” you raised an eyebrow at Yoongi.

“Hm, on second thought how about imported beer.”

“This isn’t date night at your place, dear.” you replied jokingly.

“Hm, you’re right. It’s been a while since we’ve splurged. We can do wine tonight!” he chuckled in reply as you both sat down. Just as you both got settled, you were met by a small crowd. Yoongi’s friends, of course. 

“Oi! Watch how you handle my fucking jacket! It’s worth more than your life.” Namjoon snapped at that host.

“My apologies sir!”

“Yoongi, Y/N. Good to see you.” Seokjin shook Yoongi’s hand firmly. “Sorry we’re late.”

“We just arrived ourselves.” you replied, relaxing as Yoongi wrapped his arm around your waist again. “Yoongi insisted.”

“Of course he did.” Jungkook sat down. “I saw the other women glaring at you.” he laughed. “You sure know how to make an entrance.” he raised your hand to his lips for a short kiss to your knuckles.

“Of course she does. She’s the best looking woman here.” he huffed as if it was obvious. The host quietly bought the selection for the night.

“Wine for the lady, the usual for the rest of us.” Yoongi spoke for the table.

“Yes sir!”

Before anyone else could speak, a woman in a red dress and white fur coat strode up. “Yoongi? Is that you?”

“Meredith....fancy seeing you here.” Yoongi looked less than thrilled.

“Very!” she seemed a little too happy to see him. It was funny because you had never seen nor heard of this woman in your life. “So...I tried to call you.”

She was completely oblivious of you sitting right there and you didn’t like it.

“What are you doing here?” Seokjin annoyedly spoke up as his drink was poured. “If you couldn’t tell, we’re all trying to enjoy ourselves.”

“I just wanted to catch up with an old friend!” she put her hands up in defense. Her eyes suddenly landed on you. “Whose this?” she fixed her face in disgust

“Y/N L/N, who the fuck are you?” you raised an eyebrow. Your posture straightened up as she glared at you. You threw your sunglasses on the table, crossing your arms as you perked up.

“Are you Yoongi’s pet or something?” she put a hand on her hip. “ Guess they’ll let anyone in!”

“Pet? Oh Honey...Even if that were true it would still mean I’m sitting here and your standing there looking stupid....”

“Oh yeah. He’s probably waiting for the perfect moment to get rid of you!”

You held up a single hand to up Yoongi to signify that you didn’t want him to speak. He looked livid, however you didn’t see the point in him wasting his time or energy on this woman. You slowly stood up. The host held your glass of wine with shaky hands, unsure of what to do.

“Thank you.” you grabbed the glass from him. “Run along now.”

“Yes mam!” the scared host scurried off, obviously not wanting any confrontation. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Yoongi asked, watching you with weary eyes. You weren’t confrontational so this was a huge surprise.

“Meredith. That is your name, right?” you smiled sweetly. You took a sip from your glass. “Hm...What a darling coat! I bet it goes with anything.”

“Of course it does! It pairs best with red. I bought it in Paris...” she put a hand on her hip as if she was a model. “As you can see.”

“Too bad beautiful gowns and expensive fur doesn’t make the wearer any less cheap than the next bitch.” you instantly shut down the false sense of security you built for the disrespectful woman. 

“EXCUSE ME?!?”

“Not done yet....” you cleared your throat before speaking again. “ Whore, Pet, Wife ,Girlfriend, whatever you want to call me, go ahead but best believe my place in Yoongi’s life will always hold rank over you, my dear. You weren’t even important enough for him to tell me about you and we’ve been together for four years going on five as of two months from now.” You put your free hand on your hip. “That’s number one.” you laughed gleefully.

“Damn Yoongi, your girl has guts.” Namjoon whispered.

“That’s my babe.” Yoongi sat back and watched you drag Meredith for filth.

“Number Two! Before you try to feed me shit and call it sugar, make sure you take off the tags on your clothes.” You pointed to the obvious department store tag. “Clearance...nice. I also know fake diamonds when I see them, don’t play yourself.”

Nothing was wrong with fake gems, or clearance items...but pretending you were better than everyone else while lying...that wasn’t gonna go down.

The girl had went completely quiet now.

“Three. Last but not least. Get over this whole convoluted ‘I’m better than you’ ideals you follow because the same people you turn your nose up at are the same people who you rely on on a day to day basis. Shiny hair, expensive clothes, and a posse of fake friends who tell you everything you want to hear does not guarantee happiness. Insulting me because it gives you short lived joy does not guarantee happiness. Pretending you actually have any sense of class when it’s obvious you faked your way to the top of social stardom does not guarantee happiness.” you put your wine glass on the table. “So before I proceed to tell you to go fuck yourself and to stay away from me and my BOYFRIEND...any questions?”

Not even five seconds passed and this woman walked off without another word. You didn’t feel bad, not by a long shot. Respect is something that’s earned any ANYONE who didn’t understand that could get a piece of you.

You sat back down next to Yoongi, grabbing your wine again. “Gentlemen, forgive me for that outburst.”

“Damn babe.” Yoongi wrapped his arm around you again. “That was hot.”

“Good because I’m highly fucking livid right now.” you calmly took a sip of your wine. “Who was that woman?” you turned to glare at Yoongi.

“She was an actress who was paid to portray my wife for a business thing I was forced to do.” he shook his head. “Y/N I promise she means nothing to me. It was before we even met.”

“Good. Let another girl talk crazy to me, I’ll kill you both.” you said with a straight face. “Her for thinking she can talk to me any way she wants, and you for keeping things from me. I will cut you deep, sir.”

“Damn I love you.” he bit his lip. He turned your head towards himself to give you a deep kiss. 

...

As he had promised, he could barely keep his hands off you in the car. The minute the doors had shut, Yoongi had the hem of your dress bunched up in his fist. His lips feverishly laid open mouth kisses along your exposed neck. 

“Yoongi, we shouldn’t do this here.” you whimpered, even though your actions said the completely opposite.

“Why? No one is gonna stop me. They damn sure won’t say shit about it.” Yoongi stopped for a split second to turn a glare to the limo driver, who was trying very hard not to look in the rear view mirror. “PUT THE FUCKING DIVIDER UP.” he barked.

“Yes sir!!”

Yoongi pushed you down onto the seats, causing you to let out a laugh. The divider was put up and you could hear the sound of fabric ripping.

He had tore a rip up your dress.

“Goodbye $3,000 dress.” you huffed.

“More where that came from.” he laughed, which was quickly replaced with a sadistic smile. “Spread your legs, baby.” he pouted. “Daddy wants to finger you”

“In the car-"

 “When we get back to the hotel, I want you naked on that bed.” he growled. “If not, I’ll fucking rip whatever you have left off.”

... (The Hotel)

He couldn’t even keep his hands to himself in the elevator, any part of you he could get his hands on, he touched. By the time you two had gotten back to the room, you were thrown on the bed. Your dress had a huge tear up the leg and the straps were holding up either. Yoongi had discarded every article of clothing except his pants which were hanging low on his hips at this point.

“How do you want me?” he flicked his tongue against his bottom lip, looking you up and down. “I’ll do whatever you want, babe.” He watched as your shy wall was quickly put up and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Baby doesn’t know?”

“Nuh uh.” you hid behind your hands with a shy smile.

“Hm...my hands?”

“hm....nuh uh.” you shook your head again.

“Hm...my mouth then?” he bit his lips, standing right in front of you. “Where was that fire, honey? Come on.” he grabbed your hands. “Want me to eat that pretty pussy, baby?” He gathered the rest of your dress in his fist. “Come here.”

He began kissing up your bare thighs. You shook your legs, biting your lip. You felt him pull your panties down.

“You were so brave for me, sexy girl. Where’s that fighting spirit? Do you want me to eat this sweet little- hmm.” he dragged his tongue up your slit, laying opened mouthed kisses along your pussy. “You’re brave for the outside world but you still need daddy to take care of you, huh?”

“Mhm!” you nodded desperately.

“Baby you taste so fucking good.” he laughed, lashing his tongue against your hot flesh. “You’re moving so much.” he cackled. “Hmm” he dug his nails into your thighs. “You like it when I eat this pussy?” 

“This is mine.” he mumbled against your heat. “This is all mine. Don’t think I’m done with you yet...”

#bts smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #taehyung smut #seokjin smut #bts imagines #bts scenariois #bts x reader #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #taehyung imagines #smut scenarios #smut imagines #imagines smut #hoseok imagines #jimin imagines #namjoon imagines #yoongi imagines #seokjin imagines #jungkook imagines #bts au #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #min yoongi imagines #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #nightowlfandom

[seokstrivia]

Neon Lights | dpr live

↬ Summary: You and Dabin work in a club, that’s it, that’s the fic

or, a cute moment between two friends 

↬ Club!AU | word count: 2.4k

↬ DPR Live x Reader: friends to lovers au, slowish burn, it takes place in a club where the two of you work, confessions, one-shot, fluff, minor angst, it's just short and sweet 

↬ A/N so this is my first khh fic on this account, if you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask, I hope this was enjoyable and you all welcome my love for khh to this blog, thank you <3 

A long and tiring sigh parted your lips as you dragged your feet towards the cloakroom. Sure, getting paid meant that you could buy food and feed yourself, pay bills and stay warm through winter, but you were 100% certain that it did not mean never getting any time to rest.

You were putting your jacket away when you heard a small chuckle behind you, one that you knew all too well. A pout formed its way onto your lips while you turned around to face the one person you would do absolutely anything for.

Hong Dabin— your work best friend.

“Good to see you’re happy to be here!” His tone was chirpy, but as usual, laced with sarcasm.

It made you roll your eyes before straightening your shoulders and crossing your arms. Almost in a way to intimidate him or stare him down, but he only smiled in return and you sighed in defeat.

“Do you know how hard it was to stay awake during my last lecture today?” You moaned as you followed him to his spot at the bar. “Clarkson’s monotone voice seeps right through me, I don’t know if I can take it anymore.”

Dabin shook his head before laughing at the forlorn expression etched into your face. Sometimes he wished he could take a picture so he could keep it forever, but you would probably threaten him and force him to delete it.

He knew you well. Maybe, a little too well.

“You’re just being dramatic as usual,” he told you, earning a scoff in return. “I’ll treat you to a nice meal once we’re out of here.”

That was enough to lighten your mood and get you situated at the front door, minutes before opening, with a smile on your face.

The rest of the night was nothing more than a blur, your job was to sit at the register by the front doors making sure anyone who walked in paid before going any further into the club. But it got boring and quiet after a certain time and, to be honest, the only thing keeping you going was the thought of getting something to eat with Dabin.

Hence, as soon as you were done with work and as soon as the place was vacant, you frantically sped towards the cloakroom to find Dabin. He was already there, tugging his jacket over his shoulders before twisting around to face you with a sheepish smile.

That’s not good. You sighed.

“No food?”

He went to open his mouth to speak; probably to spout out a reason or two, but you'd beat him to it.

“It’s okay! There’s always a next time.”

The smile on your face didn’t falter, it wasn’t fake— it was genuine and that was something he loved about you.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” That was the last thing he said before hurrying out the door.

You watched his figure disappear with pursed lips, wondering what came up—did something happen within his family? Did his friend finally break up with his snotty girlfriend? Did his goldfish die—wait, he doesn’t have a goldfish?

A giggle parted your lips as you laughed at yourself while moving for your jacket and bag. It was finally time to go home after a long and somewhat exhausting week.

Your bed was calling your name.

>

"You know what we should do?" Your friend urged, face way too close to yours.

"Sleep forever?" You mumbled in question while moving your face away from hers.

She chuckled in return, full and hearty before playfully bumping your arm with hers, "no silly! We should go clubbing this weekend."

A grunt left your lips, you knew this was coming from the second you'd informed her of your first weekend ever off work.

"That's far from what I think we should do this weekend," you told her before moving your chair slightly away from hers.

Mina was always bursting your personal space bubble without fail.

However, you could never stay mad at her, she was your best friend since birth and had never left your side. She was also extremely supportive, albeit annoying.

"I think it'll be fun."

You turned to stare at Mina, there was a pout on her face as if it would help convince you to say yes.

Unfortunately, it did help.

"Okay, fine! We can go clubbing."

A shriek of happiness emitted from her lips in excitement, it had been a while since you two hung out on the weekend and truth be told, she missed being able to spend time outside of University with you.

But, so did you.

Okay, so maybe you wouldn't be able to sleep the whole weekend away, but at least you'll have a good time.

Plus Dabin would be tending the bar.

The rest of the week was spent talking about what to wear, what time to be ready by and what drinks to buy to get a little tipsy before going to the club.

Mina wouldn't stop talking about, 'the best weekend ever,' it was annoying sometimes, but you couldn't bring yourself to get mad at her since it had been a while since you got the weekend off.

You missed it.

"Is Dabin working tonight?" Mina asked while finishing her makeup.

You were ready half an hour ago, but you never really dressed up. Comfort was always the way to go.

"Yeah, he should be unless he calls in sick," you told her while sipping on your drink.

Mina's eyes met yours through the mirror, the smirk on her lips had you rolling your eyes as she bounced her eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner.

"Shut up," you snorted.

She shrugged her shoulders before returning to her makeup, "I didn't say anything."

A chuckle parted tour lips making her smile.

"You didn't have to."

Sometimes you thought you could read her mind, but in reality, you just knew each other that well.

***

The club was already bouncing with people, most of the crowd was already drunk but, that was a given with cheap drinks.

Mina stretched for your hand and proceeded to skillfully advance through the crowd to get to the bar. A smile made its way to her lips when she noticed who was working at the bar.

"Will you buy me a drink while I quickly go and pee?"

You rolled your eyes at her before telling her to be careful and quick.

When you turned to face the bar after watching Mina disappear towards the toilets, you were met with Dabin's big, cheesy grin.

"Hi! I'm surprised to see you here," he teased, moving closer so you could hear him better. "I thought you would be in bed sleeping."

You flicked his forehead with your finger causing him to grimace in pain, "Mina said she wanted to go out, so... very reluctantly, I said yes."

He chuckled in response, feeling sympathy and understanding that you would much rather be asleep than somewhere loud and crowded.

"Well, can I get you anything?"

You shook your head, 'no,' before glimpsing at the direction Mina was standing, "he's gonna keep her distracted for a while, so I think... I'll just hang around here."

"And keep me company?" Dabin replied as he glanced away from the two now making out. "I'm flattered."

A chuckle parted your lips as you made yourself comfortable on one of the many empty bar stools.

The majority of the night was spent talking to Dabin, catching up and talking about how Uni was going for the two of you.

It was nearing 1:30 am when Dabin finally asked you if you were ever going to get off your ass and enjoy your night.

"You think there’s a reason that I sit at the counter talking to you all night while you bartend... No, of course, there isn't- WHO’S THAT GIRL AND WHY IS SHE WINKING AT YOU?"

You were drunk.

Dabin rolled his eyes and shook his head, "that's my ex."

You gasped in return, this was your first time hearing this, "you have an ex? But you told me that you'd been single all your life."

"I told you I was single most of my life."

"What's the difference?"

Dabin shrugged his shoulders, annoyed that you thought he'd been single forever. Did you think he was ugly or something? Maybe you thought he would only ever make it as a friend.

A sigh parted his lips as he stepped away to serve others at the bar.

You stopped staring at his ex only to find Dabin was on the other side of the bar—with a frown etched on his face.

Was it something you said?

When he came back towards your end, he handed you bottled water before turning to leave again, however, you were quick to grab for his arm, a look of concern lazed across your features.

"I'm sorry if I upset you."

Dabin removed your hand from his arm, he glanced over at his ex before making eye contact with you, "it's not like you would understand. You're the one who's been single their whole life."

His words didn't hurt because they were true, and they didn't mean anything to you. You just hadn't found the right person yet, but it wasn't difficult to understand that Dabin was upset.

And that it was most likely your fault.

>

"Are you working tomorrow night?" Mina asked.

You nodded.

"Is Dabin working."

An exhalation parted your lips as you shook your head, 'no.'

"He's off this weekend," you told her.

Mina knew you were still beating yourself up over the whole ex ordeal with him, even if you couldn't pinpoint exactly what you had said that upset him.

This is why she spoke to Ian, Dabin's best friend, and asked him if they were going out clubbing Friday night. Let's just say she was over the moon when he said yes, and you were slightly freaking out when she told you.

"Wow," Mina exclaimed when she reached the bar. "So, you're bartending tonight!"

You chuckled at the excitement in her tone and nodded your head, "someone called in sick, so I'll be stuck here tonight."

"This is great!" She shouted before going off to find the friends she'd come out with.

It wasn't long before the bar was filled with people asking for drinks, it kept your mind busy and distracted from Dabin.

It kept you so distracted that you didn't even notice him sitting on the stool at the far end of the bar. The very seat you'd taken just last week.

It made you smile, but also made you feel nervous.

"Hi," you spoke softly, but loud enough for him to hear. "What can I get you?"

The scowl on his face caught you off guard, but the slur in his voice told you that he was very drunk.

"Do you think I'm ugly?"

You stared at him for a solid minute before pinching his cheek, even though he was drunk, he could still feel the pain.

"Of course I don't think you're ugly!" You argued. "What gave you that idea?"

He shrugged his shoulders with a pout on his lips and stroked his cheek, hoping the pain would quickly subside.

"You thought I'd been single my whole life."

"That's only because you'd never spoke about your ex before," you told him. "I don't think you've ever told me anything about your personal life, to be honest."

Dabin stared into your eyes with his red and tired ones.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," you added.

And then, he smiled.

"If you liked me more than a friend," he slurred in a serious tone. "I would have confessed my feelings by now."

His words caught you off guard but you couldn't ask him what he meant since he was gone and, well, you had a job to do.

However, his words lingered endlessly in your mind for the rest of the night. Was this his way of saying that he liked you? Dabin liked you this whole time and you didn't even know?

Your mind was reeling by the end of the night, Dabin filled your mind with endless thoughts. Wait, if he liked you, why didn't he ask you out on a date?

A sigh parted your lips as you wiped down the bar, watching groups of people huddle together as they were all ushered out of the club.

Mina hurried over to the bar before leaving, her footing was clumsy, but it made you laugh. You assumed she's forgotten the keys to the flat and that's why she was rushing over, however, you were in fact, wrong.

"Did you speak to Dabin?"

You frowned in confusion, "I did, but he was drunk so it wasn't for long."

She nodded her head in response before leaving and waving goodbye.

You rolled your eyes, watching her stumble towards the male she'd met last week. A potential boyfriend she had told you, which didn't surprise you.

It didn't take you long to finish cleaning, but you were exhausted and couldn't wait for your bed. It was nearing 3:30 am when you left the club, the area was empty and quiet as you walked towards your car.

Dabin, who you thought had gone home hours ago, was leaning against the car door. Staring at the night sky, admiring the stars, something in your stomach churned, and you felt your heart begin to beat faster the closer you got.

"Hey," you smiled, keys in hand as you unlocked the car. "You need a ride home?"

His eyes finally met yours, he appeared to have sobered up as a smile rose across his lips, "if you don't mind," he chuckled. "Honestly, I just wanted to apologise."

"For what?"

"For being an idiot," he said. "Selfish, mostly. I got upset that maybe you'd never see me as anything more than a friend."

You punched his arm causing him to wince in pain, "you're an idiot, Dabin."

He shrugged his shoulders while rubbing the pain away.

"If you'd just told me how you felt or I dont know? Asked me out on a date," you argued. "You would have found out that I feel the same."

"You like me?" He asked carefully, eyes searching yours for answers—for anything.

"Yeah, I do."

A wide smile adorned his lips before his arms found your waist and lured you in for a hug, you giggled in return while coiling your arms around his neck.

"Will you go on a date with me?" He asked as he drew back to look at you.

You rolled your eyes, "took you long enough."

#khh imagines #khh scenarios #khh #khiphop #khiphop scenarios #khiphop imagines #dpr live scenarios #dpr live imagines #dpr live #hong dabin #dream perfect regime #dpr #dpr scenarios #dpr imagines #christian yu #dpr ian

[soobmint]

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.” 

-

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of  boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest. 

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together. 

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

- 

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood. 

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck. 

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure. 

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face. 

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into. 

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

-

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back. 

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

#txt imagines #txt fluff #txt oneshots #moacabin #txt scenarios #txt drabbles #choi soobin #soobin drabbles #soobin oneshot #soobin fluff #soobin crack #soobin au #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #soobin txt #valentines day #80s au #txt fanfic #collab fics #stray kids #lee felix #felix lee #best friend au #ex best friend #best friend soobin #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #hueningkai #choi yeonjun

[minshookie]

Petting Zoo.

Pairing | Stalker!Jungkook x reader

Genre | yandere,angst

Summary | “your secret admirer turned close friend wants to be more than just that, and he always gets his way.”

!warnings! | 18+ mature language, stalking , mentioned sexual acts, violence, sick pets, pet death...

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [closed for request] words: 2k.

A/N: another request done! I love taking a finishing request I just get so nervous in the end. Also trying something new. Any type of interaction is greatly appreciated! Edited, but please excuse errors. {should petting zoo be my first series?}

He knew you’d love it, you’ve always had a tender heart. The bunny coo’ed as he gently placed her into the plush box. He knew you were lonely, your roommate recently left you for her boyfriend, he knew fully that you were struggling. He’d push his ear against the wall to hear you two bicker in the deep hours of the night. He didn’t mind, he’d save you...but only if you let him.

Knowing your financial struggles, Jungkook went all out to make sure your bunny had the best even providing a months supply of food. He fully planned on this being the light of your month, you’d never stop thinking of him. He secured the new pet under one arm and the equipment under the other, he pushed his door open checking if the hall was clear. Of course, nice and clear just how he needed it, he slipped through the door with stealth leaving the gift in front of your door. With care he pulled the note card from his pocket perching it on top of the punctured box. Heavily he knocked before slipping inside his rightful apartment.

Leaning against the wall he listened for you to open your door. Finally when you did, it felt like his heart was attempting escape. Expertly he creeped to his door looking through it cracked ajar, he heard you read.

“I’m hopping mad for you, take me in as a friend, from your lover.” Fearfully you opened the whining box. In awe you gladly took in his gift, without a second thought. His heart fluttered he felt like floating in love, like in the cartoons hearts in his doe eyes.

Shutting the door he skipped to bed, exhausted his mind finally at ease, he finally has a shot with you! His heart was racing. He rolls onto his bead, head full of sweet thoughts of you, the plans he had for you. Closing his eyes he knew, this is only the beginning.

Overtime you’d grown fond of your new furry friend, inviting people over to meet your mysterious new fur ball of joy. With this new happiness and motivation, you started leaving your apartment more often. As a result Jungkook started seeing you a lot more and he loved it. He loved it so much that for some reason his schedule now aligned with yours almost perfectly.

You have a class? Oh so does he....would you like a ride? Time to head to work? How funny,him as well.....hop in!

Jungkook planned to be just what you needed, in a foreign place like this all you really needed was a honest friend. And he planned to be that and more. It isn’t hard to notice Jungkook loves it when you depend on him, you need him, your life would be in shambles without him. He knows it deep inside he believes it, but he knows you don’t. No worries for him though, you’ll see the truth soon...

Like any other day, like clockwork, Jungkook waited for you in front of your door like a royal guard. Today though he had plans for you, for days Jungkook perfected today’s schedule...big plans to tell you his feelings. Plans to pour his heart out to you, and to get yours poured to him, but something wasn’t sitting right.

you didn’t come on time, checking his watch like a mad man he paced in front of your door in anticipation. Your prolonged time inside threw off the agenda severely. Beside the settle irritation, he was worried something happened to you he was going insane. What if you left him? What if you died...what if someone kidnapped you?

Two seconds from ramming his fist against your door...Finally, while on the edge of his sanity your door creaked open. “Hey, running late today huh?” He looked your figure up and down. You weren’t dressed for the day, pajamas and Nikes weren’t your usual fashion choices.

“Oh, Kook it’s Bella she’s sick.” The whining animal sat curled into a ball inside of the pink carrier. Your voice floated to his ears, soft and worrisome. He crouched, looking into the dark cage. “Sick? Sick how?” He prodded his limber finger inside rubbing the frail animals head. “I-I don’t know she hasn’t been eating,her breathing is strange.” He could hear you on the verge of tears as he got up, slightly annoyed though he tried to hide it. “We’re late to class y/n maybe you should just leave her, she’ll be better later.” The way you batted your lashes told Jungkook he’d said something wrong. You griped the carrier locking your apartment door before begging to leave towards the elevator. “Wait Y/n where are you going?” You Kept walking carful not to rock the poor bunny too hard. “Kook, Bella is half dead and you want me to leave her? I’m taking her to the vet.”

He groaned coming closer as you waited for the aged elevator to reach you. “Yeah? Okay well wait for me I’ll take you.” The elevator stoped with a horrifying screech, you stepped in Jungkook was kicking your last nerve this morning. “I already had it planned for today.” He got closer barley missing the door, “Jin offered to take me.” The door closes quickly and you descend.

Jin? Did you say Jin? Like a angered child he almost stomped back to his apartment door. he threw his bag against it, crouching to search for his key inside. “If I knew she was going to bitch over the thing-” he cut himself off opening the door,kicking his bag inside. “ I bought the fucking bunny, who is he to take care of our bunny.”

He threw himself down onto his couch, unmotivated to go to class now, or do anything for that matter he decided to miss today, and maybe even tomorrow. He mentally facepalmed, of course Jungkook noticed you and the new older man downstairs getting closer. He didn’t think anything of it, until he saw him walking into your job when he came to pick you up. Handing you his cheap flowers and gifts whenever he’d see you around the building. Jungkook thought you were smarter than that, it made him fiery with anger thinking about him manipulating you. The only person that loved you was Him. How could you blow him off for some guy downstairs, some guy you didn’t even need.

He let his mind jump from one angering topic to another. Oh! And that fucking rabbit. Bella had been getting a lot of love from you recently, he didn’t mind he saw that pet as a connection between you two. But to suddenly you kick him to the side because the rodent refused to eat? From Bella to Jin, his head spun. He could feel his face heat up at the thought of Jin getting close to you in the car, touching you, playing with your hair. It made him sick, he could almost feel the bile in his throat. If it wasn’t for that walking ball of fur, you’d be in his car, getting touched and loved by him.

He sat up with a groan. “I’ll wait until she gets home.” He stood going to the kitchen grabbing a drink. “And I’ll talk to her, I’m sure she can explain, she’ll tell me the whole story.”

It seemed like decades before your laughter was heard coming into the hall. He’d been sitting facing his door, waiting for you, his hair disheveled his mind distraught. “Thanks Jin, talk to you later.” Your voice so sweet to him he felt himself physically react, oh how he missed you today. He heard the creak and slam of your door. What am I to say? Maybe I should ask about Bella? He got up fixing his appearance before leaving and turning to your door.

He cleared his throat before letting his knuckles beat against the hardwood. “Coming hold on!” He took a step back painfully waiting. Thankfully you arrived quicker than expected. “Hey Kookie.” You answer in hushed tones. “Hey, going to work today?” You shook your head “no, I called out on emergency.” He nodded hands in his pockets. “How’s Bella?” You looked behind yourself quickly, “Uhm, she’s a bit better just weak would you like to come see her actually?”

He nodded enthusiastically following you in, “sit down if you’d like.” You left him to go retrieve the sickly pet. He stood admiring the room, everything from the pictures to the decorative items resembled you, not only did it look like you but it smelt like you. Jungkook could swim in this scent all day.

“Here she is, a sleepy little one.” The soft hum coming from her sleeping figure earned endearment from you. Jungkook came closer rubbing her back softly. “So, why didn’t you ask me to take you this morning ?” You looked up from Bella. “I thought that you were gonna to be in class.” Your head tilted adorably. “Mm no, I’ll always wait for you.” He took Bella from your motherly arms. “Oh how sweet of you.”

“Hm So, since when have you been taking to Jin?” He looked at you inquisitively. “Jin? Eh Jin is... We’re...complicated, I’ve known him since I moved here he’s helped me quite a bit.” You answered keeping a loving gaze on Bella.

Jungkook felt himself grip the rabbit tighter he looked at you with furrowed brows. “Huh?” “I met him in a bar with my ex roommate, we’ve been talking since then.” You explained lightly trying to not hurt his feelings, of course you knew how Jungkook felt, and it wasn’t mutual.

You plopped onto the couch patting the cushions inviting him to sit. “He moved downstairs to be closer, he’s making a good effort but I’m not sure how I feel right now.” Sighing you toyed with your fingers, unaware of the grimace on Jungkook’s features.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he felt that he’d been lied to and he didn’t a appreciate that. “What do you think Koo, what should I do?” You asked, getting anxious at his sudden silence. He was upset and he was doing his best to hide it, with a sigh he sat next to you. “Don’t let him fuck up your mind y/n.” Confused you looked up to him, “we both know what you want.” You crossed your arms, curious. “What’s that?” Already being aggravated, he sighed deeply,letting the now awake rabbit escape onto the floor. “Me.” You were visibly taken aback by his unusual boldness.

“Uhm Jungkook.” Anxiously you rubbed the nape of your neck. “Y/n don’t pretend for Jin’s sake, I can hear you through the walls talking to friends about me.” Without noticing he started leaning towards you. “I’ve heard you in here being lewd with yourself, who was on your mind.” He could read the fear in your eyes, you grew uncomfortable at the personal information he was throwing at you. “Jungkook please wait-” “who was it?” You pushed a firm palm into his chest in attempts to get him away from you, the sweet dorky neighbor you’d befriended now lurking over you like a beast. “Who do you love y/n, c’mon?” “Kook-” “before you answer, know that I’ve always loved you it’ll never be complicated with me y/n you want better I can give you much be-” you pushed his muscular chest roughly to shut him up, your back now touching the arm of the couch. “I’m with Jin, Jungkook please leave I’m afraid.” A statement you thought would save you, turned to bite you right in the ass.

You could visibly see the anger play along his features, grimly he chuckled. “I’m not going any-fucking-where until you come to your senses.” He gripped the hand you had up against him. “Jungkook that hurts please I’m scared!” “You should be, how dare you use me, fucking whore I loved you!” He ran a finger over his lips, his emotions clashing harshly with each other. “I love you...but you probably let Jin fuck you silly, disgusting...but don’t worry you’ll learn.”

He proclaims pushing you to the floor, he rushes to slam and lock your apartment door. He turned and saw you clutching the coffee brown rabbit,sobbing. “Y-you fucking stepped on her Kook!” the whining of the pained animal began to creep onto his nerves. If that rodent wasn’t here you would’ve been going out with Jungkook today, and Jin wouldn’t stand a chance. He bent down pulling Bella from your clutch, with little to no struggle.

“You get what you want, and you run with it, you get what you want and you go snuggling under some other asshole huh?” He held the injured animal in a primal grip. Uncontrollable he’d held in his anger, his love,and his thoughts for far too long. “Kookie please...please...please no, l- I love you!” You desperately pleaded for your pets fragile life. “Never have I met a bitch that lies as much as you.” Coldly he responded, not appreciating your falsehood, he gripped Bella’s neck harshly putting the disturbed animal to death. “Jungkook!” You let out a shrill scream. “I bought her I can kick her to fucking curb if I want, go ask Jin for one, or did he lie and say he bought her.”

Silently all you could do is whimper and sob, the thud of Bella’s body made your throat constrict. His heavy steps near your quivering figure sending chills through you. “Say it like you mean it.” With no mental strength to look up, you collected yourself enough to speak. “I lo-ve you j-Jungkook.” He groaned. “Suck it up it was a fifty dollar animal, you’re pissing me off.” You’ve never heard him in this tone. “I love you so much, Kookie.” He gripped your chin forcing you to look at him. He pulled up his other hand slowly touching your face causing you to flinch. “Ah Ah don’t run.” He cleaned your glistening face.

“Now, tell me who we hate.” He looked into your eyes darkly. “J-Jin.” His once adorable smile, now made you want to vomit. “Good, and I’ll snap his puny neck if he gets in our way.” He brushed more tears from your features. Giving into his temptation he gripped the back of your neck, bringing his lips to yours before pulling back to whisper. “Now tell me, who were you thinking about during those lonely nights?” You shook swallowing thickly “and you better not lie.” Closing your eyes in defeat, warm tears spilled from you like a fountain. “You Jungkook.” Pleased he kissed you warmly, while you resisted the urge to react. “Keep being such a good girl, and I’ll get you a whole petting zoo of bunnies baby...would you like that?”

Not my image

#bts smut #bts reactions #bts angst #bts scenarios #dark!bts #bts yandere #yandere bts #jungkook #guk jeonjungkook #guk #dark!jungkook #kookie #jungkook smut #yandere #Bts x you #dark!bts x you #angst #yandere masterlist #yandere jimin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #dark!jin #Bts ff #jimin #hobi #kooki #Jungkook

[badgirlcovenrep]

The Goddess' Blessing (of a daughter)

Chapter One

(NOTES: the raylla adopts Tiffany fic everyone's been asking for

this is going on AO3 once I get home from my sister's but I wanted to post here first. If you'd rather read it there follow me and I'll post once it's officially in there.

Obs: Tiffany is six in this. Mostly because I wanted to write our witch moms carrying their baby and canonically she's like ten so..... and she's also like severely traumatized. We'll get to the healing soon enough though.

+ Edwin is the best papa. And Scylla has p much already adopted this kid, she just doesn't know it yet.

It's half past six p.m when their train screeches to a halt at the Chippewa station. In all the chaos of the last couple of weeks, Scylla hadn't realized Yule was well on it's way. It is still mid November, but the station has been prematurely decked in civilian Christmas decorations, and almost every wall and corner twinkles in golden speckles and fake pine.

Tiffany had been dozing in and out of sleep on the bench next to her, holding tight to her stuffed parrot as well as Scylla's coat sleeve with her restless small hands that spasmed in pure energy even as she slept. Since coming back from Nicte's mission, Scylla had been in a frenzy to get everything ready for their trip, and Tiffany had followed her around the (no longer safe) safe house, clinging on to her attention with wide blue eyes. She'd always liked kids. Before everything happened Scylla even used to babysit for dodger families.

It was never a lot of money, but she appreciated the levity and humor kids carried. They had hope Scylla prayed she could one day get back. Hope that could only come from the fleeting innocence of childhood. But even then, Tiffany was special, she still had all those wonderful, bright things, and she carried them in bulk, spilling out of her tiny little hands for anyone to see.

Yet she was also touched by things so horrible Scylla sometimes shuddered awake in the dead of night, when her mind conjured up terrible nightmares of being in her place. Of being squeezed into a tiny cage, fed dog food, strung up on a stage as masked psychopaths snickered and passed around stones bigger than fists. It showed, sometimes, in how every once in a while her expression became somber and reserved. How she stopped mid-sentence, and Scylla could see the glint of tears in the corners of her eyes.

It reminded her of Raelle - Raelle, who'd sat in her bed just yesterday and snacked on the stupid expensive popcorn her mother had bought - Raelle, who also carried so much darkness behind her strong, steady demeanor - those were the parts of her Scylla couldn't help but want to protect, and as a result, those feelings also extended to Tiffany. Scylla lost a lot of people in her life, and she'd decided the day she found the child's parents that she would do whatever it took to keep her safe. Just like she wished someone might have done for her. Because that sort of hidden, desolate pain could just as well transform itself into something entirely awful if exploited the right way.

People around her start getting up from their seats, reaching to the compartments for their luggage, there aren't many of them making their way up North this time of year but they still fill the cart in humming conversations, deciding on what to do next or where to get dinner. Scylla takes this as her cue to skim her fingers through Tiffany's hair, gently nudging her awake, "Hey, T, wake up, we're here."

The little girl sits up, bleary eyed, and yawns, looking around at the commotion, "it's already Christmas?" She asks, catching a glimpse of the boisterous decorations set up outside.

"Not yet, no." Scylla chuckles, getting up from her seat to retrieve their own bags - they had everything the two could think to bring, and yet were still not much. A duffel bag for Scylla and purple backpack for Tiffany, with unicorn stickers and colorful buttons sewn to the front. Scylla had retrieved it, along with some toys and clothes, from the girl's home, "People just love decorating early."

"Oh." Tiffany quips, as Scylla helps her fit her arms into the straps of her backpack, then takes her hand in a steady grip once they are done, pulling the young girl towards the door to leave the train, "The lights are pretty!" She exclaims happily, blinking in wide eyed wonder.

Outside, November has definitely made itself known, and Scylla is glad they are both warm in their coats as the wind bites her cheeks until they turn a dark blush. She looks around for Edwin, not sure she'll recognize him from the pictures she'd seen Willa scatter around the house, but still willing to try.

For a second, in that moment, she thinks this might not have been a good idea. When Scylla agreed to it, she'd admittedly not been in her full faculties, brain too preoccupied with seeing Raelle again after so long to completely comprehend what she'd been offered.

After everything that happened, she can't help but be a little nervous to meet the father of her ex (?), the same girl she still very much loved. The girl who had run back to her in that dark forest a day before and clung onto her face until all they could breathe was each other.

If she thought too much about it, Scylla could still feel the soft, almost painful impact of her lips as Raelle knocked her off her balance and breathed fire into her chest like molten lava. It'd been so long, she almost forgot the kind of power Raelle had when she kissed. Like she was always on the verge of tasting your very soul. Their whole day back together before was so very delicate and tentative, air fizzling with electricity like the tension of a bow, pulled tight with an arrow ready to shoot.

The time they've been separated her heart was squeezed tight under an elastic band. Whenever she stopped to think, even for a minute, she could feel it taught, so very strained, reaching from the very inside of her ribs. It was there from the very start. The tightness was what propelled her diaphragm into breathing Raelle in that very first night they spent together, even if she knew she shouldn't, and then, it was what kept them orbiting around each other like their very own solar system. Never too far apart. Always wishing to be closer.

When they kissed in the clearing, hairs messy with the wild strumming of the bat just a few feet away, for the first time, she felt like the band released. The invisible string, so very tight, loosening from under her heart to extend around the both of them and wrap them in what Scylla could only describe as exhilarating, shaking relief. The touch of Raelle's cotton gloves, that she never thought she'd feel again - the taste of her lips, like blood and rain droplets and a mouthful of just her.

It left Scylla running on a high since she walked away from Raelle just the day before, in the early hours of the morning.

It's not how she hoped she'd meet Raelle's dad. Deep down, no matter how much she tried not to, Scylla had imagined herself, more than once, coming to the Cession hand in hand with the blonde fixer. In love and together, going home to meet the parents. It's bittersweet to be here with Tiffany instead, and she has to squeeze the young witch's hand slightly to ground herself from the urge to run.

To just take the child's small body in her arms and run- leave the station in lieu of a cheap motel, one with vending machines, where they could hide from the world a little longer.

When the witch looks down, however, Tiffany smiles reassuringly back at her, squeezing her hand slightly in return, and Scylla can't help the wave of affection that washes over her.

"Excuse me? Are you Scylla and Tiffany?" A voice coming from behind wakes them back from the moment, and when they turn, both come face to face with Edwin Collar.

Scylla's sure it's him. If not because he does still look quite a lot like the pictures she's seen, then because the necromancer can definitely see the telltale signs of Raelle written all over his face. It's mostly there in the kind drop of his eyelids, and the way his mouth creates tiny wrinkles of soft skin when he smiles, but it's there, nonetheless.

"Yes, we are, nice to meet you, Mr. Collar." Scylla greets, settling down her bag to shake his hand.

"Of course, it's amazing to finally meet you. Raelle talked you up a storm," he declares, chuckling proudly, "only good things, I assure."

"Oh, I'm sure I don't deserve that." She let's out, hoping it sounded more playful than it feels for her.

"Nonsense. You seem like a kind girl." The man decides, with a solemn nod, before turning to Tiffany, "and you- Tiffany, I'm very happy to have you with me this week as well, I'm sure we'll have lots of fun together."

"Thank you, Mr. Collar." The small blonde replies, half-hiding herself behind Scylla's pant leg.

"Let's go then. It's getting cold." Edwin finally declares, taking Scylla's bag from the floor without a question. The girl goes to complain, but he cuts her off before she can - "and don't fight me on this. Raelle also never let's me carry her bags, for once I'd love to help."

Scylla still wants to protest. Mostly because she feels that they have already asked so much - and she doesn't quite deserve the kindness - but he seems sincere, so she nods instead, and with the affirmative, all three begin their way to the parking lot.

"Is Raelle your friend?" Tiffany asks innocently, skipping happily over her boots.

"Uh- she- yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Well, you said we were going to a friend's dad's house." Tiffany notes. "Where is Raelle then?"

"About that-" Edwin stops in his step, "did you see her? How is she?" He asks, an uneasy tension settling over his demeanor as he studies Scylla for answers, "they told me she was alive but that was it-"

"She's okay. I saw her yesterday, she was well." The brunette assures, and that seems to send a wave of relief over the man, who breathes deeply before continuing their walk along the various cars.

"Oh, thank goodness." He sighs, "when those people took her I thought- I'm so glad she's okay."

"Yeah. We were all worried." Scylla declares. And this, she can relate to. The way he cares so much for Raelle, it spills into the very movement of his expressions. It's familiar, and it warms her heart. She decides right then that she likes Edwin.

"Did the bad people take Raelle too?" Tiffany questions, frowning in scared surprise as they reach Edwin's old truck.

Scylla sighs, not having revealed much of the mission she'd gone on the day before. She knew it'd be scary for her. Tiffany was still very much traumatized, and rightfully so, after everything she'd been through. But Tiffany was also very smart- and observant. She'd catch up eventually and Scylla feels stupid for not dealing with this before coming.

"Yeah. They tried to hurt her, but me and her other friends didn't let them." The necromancer assures, as she helps the girl into the backseat and clicks in her seatbelt, "she's okay now. We're all safe here."

"Oh- Okay." Tiffany nods, but Scylla can see the doubt shining under her eyes.

Scylla wishes she knew what to say, but words fail her, so she squeezes the girl's hand reassuringly once more, winking in what she hopes is humorous solidarity, before closing the door.

***

Raelle's house is just like she imagines- small, rustic - surrounded by a thick canopy of trees and bushes. It reminds her of the places she used to stay with her parents, scattered over random cities all over the U.S. Scylla likes it.

"It isn't much, but we always have warm dinner and pancakes in the morning." Edwin quips, humbly, as he leads the pair of witches to Raelle's room, "you can stay here. Hope it is comfortable."

"This is more than enough, Edwin." Scylla smiles gratefully, "it's too much, really. Thank you for letting us stay."

"Nonsense." He waves his hand with a half embarrassed chuckle, "It's good to have people here again. After Rae and Tally left everything feels a lot quieter." Scylla nods in agreement, as the man turns to leave the room, the two witches inside watching him carefully, "You guys should change and rest a bit- I'll call you for dinner.

Scylla thanks him, and waits until the door clicks behind his back to turn her attention to the luggage that had been settled over a random chair. The room is filled with so much Raelle, she can't help but notice the letters, pictures, memories and song lyrics, glued to every single wall, from a time before Fort Salem, before them.

The blonde used to leave notes on her dorm walls back at Fort Salem. Lots of silly things like "I'll be back after training" or "You fight people in your sleep. It's cute.". Scylla wonders if they are still there or if they've been taken by the army when she was captured. It doesn't matter anymore, the necro realizes, and she shakes her head in an effort to bring her attention back to the room.

"You should put on some pajamas." Scylla says toward Tiffany, who sat, grievously quiet, at Raelle's bed.

She looked thoughtful, in a way regular six year olds don't quite show unless they have to go through way too much. Her small, bright eyes hide barely concealed darkness as she shifts her looks everywhere but at the older witch.

Scylla sighs, finding this place - this relationship - so very painfully familiar. She'd been the scared little girl last time, feeling so very small and alone. And now, as the adult, she was definitely going to try her best not to fuck it. As difficult as it might be. The world didn't need another suffering witch.

After a few minutes of silence, Scylla realizes she was not going to get an answer, so she opens the girl's backpack and fishes out a pair of mermaid themed leggings and t-shirt, along with the small bag that carried her tooth and hair brushes along with some other toiletries. Scylla places the items by Tiffany on the mattress, kneeling in front of the young witch and studying her clear, soft little face.

"Hey. Are you feeling alright?"

"Are the bad men coming here to hurt us?" Tiffany asks, instead of a response, and Scylla frowns in worry.

"No, of course no-"

"They came and took Raelle too." Tiffany notices, tears escaping from her eyelids that Scylla dries up with her thumb, "and they hurt Miss Willa, the other kids' at the office and my mommy and daddy. What if they come here again? What if they really hurt us this time?" As the questions stumble out of her mouth, sobs begin to wreck across her throat until she's shaking, ever so slightly, with the force of her tears and heavy, panicked breathing.

Scylla sighs and rises from the ground to cuddle the girl close to her chest, squeezing tight until she can feel Tiffany's little arms squeeze her back. Scylla's afraid too - most of the time, if she allowed herself to be honest - Ever since watching Raelle leave her in that cell the year before, the girl could feel even more perfectly the path of death and destruction that marked their (the witches') way through the world.

One of the bad things about being a necro - Death didn't like not being known, and it showed itself insistently, to anyone able to notice.

"We don't know whether or not they'll come again." Scylla ends up responding, sincerely, as she squeezes her arms even tighter around the little girl, "but I won't let them hurt you, you hear me? I dealt with them before, I can deal with them again."

"No" Tiffany shakes her head, frowning up at her in teary-eyed fear, "You too. You're safe too. I don't want you to get hurt either."

"Hey." Scylla forces out a chuckle, trying to lighten up the situation for the young witch's sake, "don't be silly, ok? I'm pretty much invincible."

Tiffany doesn't laugh, her breathing having somewhat returned to normal. The girl just stares back at Scylla with a seriousness that's all too unfair, coming from a six year old, and she reaches out, her pinky finger lifted in expectation, "Pinky promise you'll be safe too? Please?"

Scylla knows she shouldn't. The truth is, she doesn't know what will happen. After their plan to capture Nicte was said and done, Scylla barely had any idea what she would be doing now. But Tiffany obviously needs the reassurance, from the way she stares ever so desperately at the necro's face.

"Okay, I pinky promise." Scylla smiles, trying to convey some calm toward the other girl as she let her pinky link with the smaller one. It seems to work, as Tiffany's expression softens and her tense posture falls, "now let's get you under a shower and into some pajamas, ok? You're a very smelly little witch right now."

"Am not!" Tiffany replies, and Scylla can't help but full on laugh this time, pulling the small girl to Raelle's bathroom as she mockingly protests.

Second chapter is almost done, just needs to be read over for mistakes. For C2, Raelle calls home, Scylla meets old dodger friends and she also has an important conversation with Edwin.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

#motherland fort salem #scylla ramshorn #raelle collar #raelle x scylla #motherland: fort salem #raylla #taylor hickson #amalia holm #mfs tiffany #tiffany mfs

[petersasteria]

drivers license - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom x Singer!Reader Requested? Nah 3,561 words

I was going to write this when the song came out, but as you observed, i wasn't writing bc i wasn't happy anymore. but here it is. enjoy.

Tom || Main || Taglist

* * * *

“I want you to meet my friend. She’s super nice and stuff. Maybe she could sing the soundtrack of one of my short films!” Harry said happily. “Anyway, she’s an amazing singer and she’s inviting me to the recording studio tomorrow. Want to come?”

Harry looked at Tom and waited for his response. The eldest Holland brother opened his mouth to say something, but Sam entered the room and interrupted. “Y/N’s my friend first, you know. I introduced her to YOU.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Besides, I suggested for her to invite you guys. Thank me later.”

“Thank you.” Harry mocked. “So, will you come with me-”

“Us.” Sam corrected. “Will you come with US tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll come so both of you can shut up.” Tom laughed before scrolling through his phone again.

Tomorrow came and the three Hollands went to the recording studio where you were currently at. When they got there, you were in the booth recording your song which will be on your first EP. You were just starting in the music industry and you were still testing the waters and finding your sound.

The three men sat down on the couch and listened to you. It was safe to say that Tom immediately fell in love with your voice and he made a mental note to compliment your voice for when you’re done recording. After recording two songs, you were finally taking your break. As soon as you stepped out of the recording booth, Sam ran up to you and engulfed you in a tight hug.

“I missed you! You sounded amazing!” Sam said giddily. He was really happy and really proud of you.

“Thank you!” You said gratefully with a huge smile on your face. Sam was your first ever friend and he was your first audience. Needless to say, his opinions matter to you the most. He was more supportive than your family will ever be.

“I can’t believe my Christine will be doing great things on her own now.” Sam pouted. He called you ‘Christine’ and you earned that nickname because of Phantom of the Opera. You were his Christine and he was your Phantom. It was perfect.

“But I’ll always stay the same, Sam.” You said in pure honesty. You looked over his shoulder and saw two of his brothers.

“Hi, Harry!” You waved, recognizing his curly hair despite only meeting him five times. Harry waved back and that left Tom. He stood up and walked towards you and Sam to formally introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Tom; Sam’s older brother.” He smiled sweetly. He offered his hand for you to shake and you gladly took it and gave it a firm shake.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You smiled before letting go of his hand.

“Your voice is just wow! You have a gift.” Tom complimented which made you shy. “Thank you.” You said sheepishly.

Sam cleared his throat, “So, lunch?”

The four of you had lunch at a small chicken wing restaurant. It was cheap, hidden, and there were only five other customers which was great. You talked about so many things and eventually, Tom asked about your friendship with Sam.

“Wait, how did you and Sam meet?” Tom asked, taking a bite of his chicken wing. You took a sip of your drink and swallowed your food before answering.

“I was homeschooled my whole life and when I told my mum that I wanted to enroll in a random course just to know what it feels like to have classmates, she enrolled me in a culinary course. Let’s just say that I’m surprised that I passed!” You and Sam laughed as you thought about the shit both of you did.

“We sat next to each other and we were cooking partners. She was so awkward!” Sam laughed, wiping a tear that escaped from his eye. “But I’m glad she was put in the seat next to me because if not, I wouldn’t have gotten to know her. I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Same.” You nodded in agreement. “Sam’s my best friend in the whole world and I honestly wouldn’t know what to do without him. He’s my rock.”

Sam turned his head to look at you and smiled, “Same.”

“Ugh, just date already!” Harry said with his mouth full. He even rolled his eyes in the process.

“Ugh, just swallow already!” Sam mocked.

“That’s what she said.” You giggled. The table erupted with laughter and you were happy that you got to meet new people, thanks to Sam.

“I meant his food!” Sam breathed.

“It sounded wrong, though.” Tom chuckled.

“Very.” Harry said with a playful look on his face.

After lunch, Sam told you that they had to go home already. You were visibly upset because you haven’t seen your best friend in such a long time and you had so much fun with his brothers. It’s true what they say; time flies by when you’re having fun.

“I’ll call you tonight.” You told Sam. He nodded and said, “I shall wait for your call, then.” You hugged him and hugged Harry right after.

“It was nice seeing you again, Y/N!” Harry exclaimed before pulling away from the hug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, already excited for your next meeting. You turned to hug Tom and not only did he hug you, but he also kissed your cheek which surprised you, Sam and Harry.

“I’d love to hang out with you again.” Tom said after hugging you. “But without these two divs.” He added earning a slap on the arm from each boy.

You quickly glanced at Sam and he just nodded for you to go. With that go signal, you turned to Tom and said, “Okay! I’ll give you my number and just text me later.”

Tom ended up texting you that night and he asked you out on a date. One date turned into two and two dates turned into three until both of you went on so many dates now. Despite the four year age gap, you two seemed to click. You didn’t have a label yet, though.

It all changed one night.

It was midnight and Tom decided that it’ll be fun to go on a spontaneous road trip. He picked you up and now you were on the road going God knows where. It was random, but it was really fun. Your parents were out of town, so you were confident in going with Tom on his road trip.

Both of your windows were down and you put your hand out to feel the wind. It was a great feeling. Tom was looking at you from time to time and he was smiling to himself. He stopped at a red light and you brought your hand back in again despite the fact that there were no cars around.

“I have a question.” Tom said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked before driving again as the light turned green. You were surprised with his question and even more so when he started driving again.

Tom looked at you and saw your shocked face before turning to look at the road again. “I mean, you don’t have to answer now. Like, take your time. I just asked because I really li-”

“Yes.” You finally answered after being silent. He stepped on the brakes in shock and said, “What?”

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” You grinned. He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief, “Wow. The most amazing girl in the world is finally my girlfriend. It’s a great day already.”

That day was the start of a new chapter for both of you. Sam and Harry knew it would happen eventually. Harry was really happy, but Sam felt as though he was in between something; he was torn in between something. Little did he know, his hunch was right and he’ll soon find out why.

Tom was a great boyfriend. He made sure to think about your feelings before doing or saying anything, he made sure to include you on things because he knew you didn’t want to feel left out, he made sure to give you space when you would write songs, he picks you up all the time because you don’t know how to drive yet, but he didn’t mind; he loved it. Tom always told you that he loved you, he would send you memes that he knew would make your day, he tells you cheesy pick up lines and he would tell you jokes that catered to your humor which you greatly appreciated. In your eyes, he was perfect; he was your home.

For you, Tom was the one. He was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and he told you the same thing. He said that when the time was right, he would propose and both of you would get married and he would give you the family you always wanted because your family didn’t really care about you and he hated that. You deserved the world and he promised you that both of you would have a family that’s so much different than yours.

Speaking of family, the Hollands loved you. They became your family. You and Nikki would have tea together and just gossip about things. You and Dom would joke around and Paddy would always challenge you in football. Harry just loved your presence and it came to a point where you would be his model whenever he wanted to take pictures. Tom would always whine and ask why Harry never asked him and Harry would say, “You’re the least interesting to look at.”

“Excuse me, what?!” Tom replied, pretending to be hurt. He knew Harry was just joking and quoting Kim Kardashian. “I’m the most handsome guy here.”

“Okay, Shrek.” Harry shrugged and continued taking your pictures.

Regardless of the sinking feeling that he felt, Sam was still happy that you found happiness in dating his brother. He did give you a go signal, after all.

Of course, all good things come to an end. In this case, your end came after dating for two years.

Tom was away filming for yet another movie and something in your gut told you that something was extremely wrong. You weren’t the jealous type, but every time you would FaceTime Tom, everything was off. The vibe was different and you didn’t like it.

The bad feelings you have solidified when it was revealed that Tom was starring in a film with a blonde girl who was the same age as him and she was gorgeous. You always felt that Tom might leave you for her and when you told Tom that, he assured you that nothing was going on and that you were crazy for even thinking about it.

It got to a point where both of you would always argue because of it. It got to a point where both of you avoided each other for a few days until Tom got back. He was outside your house and he texted for you to come and meet him by his car. You did and you didn’t know what to say. It was your first relationship after all.

Tom looked at you with his hands in his pockets, “I don’t think we should go on anymore.”

“What?” You asked, confused.

“We’re done, Y/N. It’s just not working anymore.” Tom explained. “You don’t trust me and we’re always fighting.”

“Wait, we’re not going to talk about this?” You asked him. He just shook his head. “So you’re willing to throw two years down the drain?”

“It’s just two years, Y/N. Get a grip, it’s not a divorce.” Tom huffed. “I have to go.” With that, he got in his car and drove away, leaving you standing there confused and hurt and feeling different kinds of emotions.

You figured that everything was just a nightmare and that when you wake up the next day, everything’s fine. Of course, you were wrong. When you woke up the next day, Tom blocked your number and on social media and it broke your heart. Then when you went on Twitter, Tom Holland was trending because apparently, he’s dating the blonde girl he told you not to worry about. You were still in denial, but when you called Sam, he just told you not to bother his brother.

“It’s true, isn’t it? He left me for her.” You said with a hoarse voice. Sam was silent on the other line. You could only hear his breathing. “Hello?” You called out.

“Y/N, I have to go.” Sam said softly.

You bitterly chuckled, “I lost him and now, I lost you. This is fun.”

“It’s not like that. I just don’t want to get in the middle of-”

“It’s okay, I get it. He’s your brother. Don’t be sorry or anything. Thanks for the years of friendship, Sam. I’ll forever treasure it. Thank you, truly.” You said before hanging up, not waiting for him to respond. Unbeknownst to you, Sam was extremely hurt for being part of the reason why you’re hurting. He removed the phone from his ear and looked at it. Tom cleared his throat causing Sam to look at him.

“Was that Y/N?” Tom asked. Sam nodded. “What did she say? What did you tell her?” Tom asked again.

“I told her not to bother you and just like that, our friendship is over. So, I hope you’re happy.” Sam frowned as tears clouded his vision.

Tom scoffed, “You don’t need her. You have so many friends. Plus, you have me. Anyway, get dressed. We’re going to the pub.” Tom left Sam’s room. Sam sighed and wiped his tears. He felt terrible.

As for you, in the span of twenty-four hours, you lost your best friend and the man you loved most in the whole world.

You’re currently crying tears of joy because your new song played on the radio and it’s your first time hearing it. Your whole team was really proud of you and they were your new friends and family now. Ever since your break up with Tom, they were there for you. They helped you get back on your feet until you were ready to write another song.

The said song is now playing on the radio and is being streamed by millions.

“Congrats, Y/N!” Your manager, Anya, said. “We’re all so proud of you!”

“Thank you.” You sniffed and wiped your tears.

Your song received good reviews and it’s included in Billboard’s Top 100. Every talk show host wanted you on their show for you to perform your hit single. Everyone wanted to talk to you about the song. Anya made it all happen. You were booked left and right and all the blessings were just coming in. You were extremely happy.

On the other hand, Tom knew the song was about him and it annoyed him because everywhere he went, your song was playing. Even Sam plays it a lot. It was clear that Sam missed you, but he made his bed and he has to lay in it.

“Guess what.” Harry said.

“What?” Tom asked.

“Y/N’s nominated for an award and she’s going to the award show you’re going to.” Harry announced which made Tom groan. “Also, people somehow figured out that the song is about you and now they’re assuming things and they want to know the story, especially your side.” Harry added.

“Easy.” Sam piped up. “Just tell them you left her for another girl and you dated the said girl right after you broke up with Y/N.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Tom hissed. Sam looked at Tom with a blank expression and said, “You don’t have the right to be angry after what you did to her.”

“Why are you defending her now? Why not a few months ago when it was still fresh?” Tom retorted.

“Because I didn’t want to get in the middle of your mess and I still care about her. Unlike you, I can’t just throw years of friendship away.” Sam said before leaving the living room.

“Yikes.” Harry said after Sam left. “Anyway, you have to act like it doesn’t bother you, so it’s not an issue.”

The day of the awards show finally came and you were nervous. It was your first time performing for an extremely huge audience and it made you anxious. The red carpet was all a blur and at one point you saw Sam and both of you made eye contact. You gave him a tight-lipped smile and he did the same. What he did still hurts you, but you wanted to let go of that part of your life now.

When it was your time to perform, your phone buzzed and a notification from a number appeared. You have deleted Sam’s contact number, but you memorized his number in case of emergencies.

“Good luck on your performance, my Christine. I’m proud of you.” He wrote.

You smiled a bit before locking your phone and giving it to your manager. Somehow, it was comforting to know that Sam still had your number and that he was still supporting you despite what happened. You walked on stage and began singing your heart out. The crowd loved it and it made you happy.

“She’s so good!” Sam exclaimed as he clapped for you.

“Please, she sounds like the other artists here. She’s not special.” Tom said as he plastered a fake smile on his face. Harry scoffed and said, “Yeah, right. You fell in love with her voice the first time you met her. Don’t lie.”

Tom never responded to that and kept his mouth shut.

An hour later, the category you were nominated for was up and it made you nervous. You believed you weren’t going to win because the other nominees were well known singers. But for some miracle, you won and the camera panned to Tom to see his reaction.

He wore a fake smile as he clapped. It was awkward. It was even more awkward when you walked past him and Sam stood up to grab your hand to say a quick ‘congrats’ which you thanked him for before walking to the stage to accept your first award ever.

“Wow, I can’t believe this. I want to thank my whole team for being so supportive and patient with me!” You smiled as you accepted the award. “Thank you to the amazing fans for their undying love and support. I wouldn’t have done it without you guys.”

“Lastly, I want to thank the guy who inspired the song.” You said as the camera panned to Tom again. “You know who you are and without you, there would be no songs or albums or EPs. You were the soundtrack of my love life and I’m beginning to accept that you’re not that person anymore. Thank you for everything and I hope that with this song, I can finally let go and start fresh.”

“Thank you again!” You said before leaving the stage. The people clapped for you except for Tom who just sat there with an expression no one could read.

You never interacted with Tom or his family the whole night and somehow, you were grateful for that. You never got a text from Sam anymore, but you did get a text from Tom’s new number a few days later asking for you two to meet in the place where you went on the spontaneous road trip to God knows where.

You drove up there with your new car and when you arrived, Tom was already there waiting for you. You parked and got out of the car before walking towards him.

“Hello.” You said, breaking the silence.

“Hi.” He said. “I figured we need to talk for closure.”

“Ahh. Yes, please.” You nodded.

“I don’t know where to start.” Tom admitted.

“Maybe start with the reason why you just left me.” You said bluntly.

“I just didn’t feel the spark anymore, okay? I grew feelings for someone else and I wanted to do it right without cheating, so I broke up with you and-”

“And got together with her the next day.” You finished for him. “Amazing, Tom. Really.” He didn’t say anything else anymore and you nodded and took this as your cue to leave. But before that you called out to him. He turned to look at you and you said, “Just know that I never lacked in our relationship. I’m just sorry that I actually believed that you were the one for me and I’m sorry that I believed what you said. I wish you all the best, Thomas. I do. You’re a great actor and I know your own blessings are still coming in.”

“Thank you.” He said. “You’re a great singer.”

You gave him a small smile and got in your car and drove away. The drive back hits differently because you remembered laughing with Tom as if the road trip happened yesterday, but it didn’t. You shook off the thoughts with a chuckle and just kept driving. You were finally letting go to start a new chapter in your life.

* * * *

who wants to see the soc med of this?

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @thatforgottenangel @parkerpeter24 @turtoix @slutforsr @givebuckyhisplumsnow @buckys-little-hoe @runawayolives @chewymoustachio @hollandsrecs @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @juliediggory @lharrietg @alexx-stancati @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @spideyspeaches @thevelvetseries @buckymylove @quxxnxfhxll @marvelsimps @dreamy-clousds @bora-world @hunnybunimdun @supred12

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow

#tom holland #tom holland one shots #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

[writersrealmbts]

A Natural: Part 7/Finale

Description: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader: You’re a single mom, and your son is your entire world. When you take him to get his first hybrid, his choice is pretty bewildering, until you realize that he was picking out a dad.

Posted: 04/09/2021

Tags: Taehyung, Hybrid Taehyung, Human Reader

Wordcount: 3,673

A/N: Yay! Another series finished! Thanks for loving this story!

Theo was talking animatedly with Taehyung as he was wheeled toward the house, but he got quieter as you approached the front door to unlock it, looking down at the ramp beneath the wheels of the wheelchair.

Tae pushed him through the front door, his conversation also lulling.

Theo looked around, a bit of a smile on his face. “I get to stay now, right?”

You nodded, kissing his forehead. “You get to stay now and forever. We do have to go back for checkups and therapy but you’re home and you’re safe and I’m making roast beef and mashed potatoes.”

“Yummy! Can we go play, Dad?” Theo asked, brightening instantly and sort of bouncing in his wheelchair.

“Sure!” Tae pushed the wheelchair through at a speed that made you nervous. But you knew he would never purposely endanger Theo: Theo was his pup. That was evident in all of his actions, in his conversation, and in the effort he had made to get certified so that he could be there when Theo was released.

You went into the kitchen to baste your roast and then start peeling the mashed potatoes, trying to calm your heart because your baby was finally home again. Finally, finally home again, after weeks and months of too little patience and not enough answers, and a whole sea of tears. Therapy, rehab, tests, more tests, and after all of that, you had your baby home—less mobile than before, but still your baby.

You watched Theo playing on the bed with Tae, fighting the tears and hopelessly losing because he was back where he belonged.

Peace, comfort, and everything right in the world. Nothing intruding, just your little family.

So, of course, your phone rang.

You groaned and answered it. “Yoongi? Really? We just got Theo home.”

“It happened. We’re out of a job,” Yoongi answered, sighing. “They closed the company down.”

“Ugh. You could have texted me that,” You huffed, heading back to the kitchen. The two of you had basically considered everything going on and known that the company was going to collapse. You’d almost been told as much when the two of you went in to talk to an IRS agent who wanted you to walk her through your jobs and some files and go over the discrepancies that had led to the audits.

“Yeah, well, I also had to tell you that the paperwork came in the mail today, and we close on the building next week.”

“Okay, that was worth calling me,” You said, hopping onto the counter. “What’s next on the list?”

“Fixing the building? Getting the classes organized. You finish the certification class tomorrow?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of pathetic,” You said, shrugging. “Too easy. Let’s make our classes thorough, yeah?”

“Agreed. Jin is already writing a teaching plan. He’s got it halfway done—at least, I hope that’s the halfway point. Jungkook’s been helping, which makes hyung happy. And he’s finished the dog-training next week. The teacher was really excited to hear about what we’re doing, by the way, and gave Jin a bunch of things. She asked Jin to sit in on her next couple of classes as her helper.”

“That’s really great. Jimin?”

“He’s hitting garage sales to celebrate getting the building, hoping to find some cheap stuff to get us started. How’s Theo?”

“He’s fine. He’s bright and happy and playing with Taehyung right now. He’s taking things well and I’m making his favorite, and he’s looking forward to everyone coming over tomorrow.” You checked your timer, then sighed. “We’re totally doing pizza, though. I’m already exhausted.”

“Okay. I can pick it up on my way over.”

“Thanks. I’ve got to go. Need to get the rest of dinner started.”

“Tell Theo we’re looking forward to playing games with him tomorrow.”

“You got it. Eat well.”

“You too.”

You slipped off of the counter, and started putzing around the kitchen making some side dishes to go with dinner.

Tae came out. “How long until dinner?”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Better keep it warm, he fell asleep.”

You nodded, letting him stop you and hold you still. “He okay?”

“Very okay. He’s so happy he’s home that he just sort of passed out.” He kissed your cheek, then sighed. “I’m so happy too. I finally get to see him and hold him. I just want to hold him and cry.”

“I’ve almost been in tears for the entire day,” You told him. “I figure once he’s in bed for the night, I’ll cry my little heart out.”

“Can I cry with you?”

“Of course you can. I would never ask you not to cry when you wanted to.” You turned to meet his gaze, gently touching one of his furry ears. “It’s been hard for both of us. It’s still going to be hard. I’m terrified of the next few days.”

“Me too. Even if they told us what to expect and how to care for him, there’re still a lot of mistakes we’re going to make and that scares the fur off me.”

You nodded. “I wouldn’t be able to make it through all this if I hadn’t had you, you know.”

Taehyung nodded. “I know.”

“Mommy! Look! I made it in my chair and through the house!” Theo called, managing the last push through to the kitchen and raising his arms in victory.

“My baby! Look at you!” You hurried over bending to kiss his face all over. “Excellent job!”

“It’s exhau…it’s tiring,” Theo finished, nodding firmly to cover for his lost word.

“Exhausting, fatiguing, tiresome, or draining,” You supplied, sharing a smile with him and moving around to the back of the chair, bringing him over to the table. “What do you want to drink?”

“Water. It smells really good, mommy.” Theo smiled up at you.

You dropped a couple kisses on his face before going to get him his drink.

Tae was bringing over the side dishes. “You want to stay in your wheelchair, or you want to sit on the chair?”

“Chair, it’s a little too high,” Theo said, touching the table edge, which was practically to his chin.

Tae nodded and pulled the wheelchair back. “Arms around my neck.”

Theo did as he was told and the two of them moved him to the dining chair.

“You okay, baby?” You asked, noticing the way Theo was sort of fidgeting in the chair as you brought the roast over.

Theo looked up at you. “It’s still weird.”

“Your legs?” You guessed, resting your hand on his cheek.

He nodded, leaning into your touch. “I don’t like it.”

“I know. Neither do we. But…there are some things in life that are out of our control.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And we’re going to be with you every moment of the way.”

Theo nodded, sighing. “I missed you, mommy.”

“I was with you,” You teased gently, but you understood exactly what he meant. It had always been the two of you, three once Tae had joined, and while he was in the hospital everything felt wrong. You didn’t get to hold him like you wanted, and it seemed like every time you had him in your arms and both of you were comfortable a nurse would come in to do something or other.

“But we weren’t home,” He said, watching Tae put the bowl of mashed potatoes down. “I really, really missed you daddy.”

Tae came over and nuzzled Theo. “I missed you more.”

“I missed you most,” Theo responded easily.

You hummed softly. “Come on. Time to eat, boys, before it gets cold.”

Theo hummed happily as you filled his plate, immediately trying to cut his own food first before ultimately letting Tae do it. “Too tired. Too hard.”

“That’s fine, kiddo,” Tae answered easily. “We all need help sometimes. And cutting things can be hard. At least you try.”

Theo nodded. “Mommy said that as long as I try, I can make it through the world.”

“Your mom is really smart,” Tae said, smiling at you. “She’s got a good history of trying her best at everything, including taking care of you and me. You chose her well.”

Theo laughed. “I didn’t choose her!”

“What?! Of course you did!” Tae objected, grinning himself. “Every kid chooses their parents!”

Theo and Tae launched into a playful debate and storytime about how every kid chooses their parent while you ate, quietly listening and just enjoying the fact that you were home.

Theo was home.

“Uncle Hobi said that he’d help me catch up to the rest of the class over the summer. I don’t want to do school work in the summer, but I don’t want to be behind. Kevin and Jun were close to being my friends, and they sent more drawings and letters than the other kids.”

“They wanted to visit, too, but they didn’t want to tire you out,” You told him. “We told them that they could come play with you once you were home.”

He grinned. “When? Tomorrow? Tuesday?”

“I’ll talk to their moms and arrange it all, and let you know. But, let’s have a couple days just our family.”

Theo nodded, but then looked back up. “Wait, does that include my uncles?”

“Of course. We’re working on projects together so they’re over quite a bit lately. And they’re coming over tomorrow, remember?” Tae nuzzled Theo, then added more potatoes to his plate. “Eat up.”

“More food?”

Tae nodded. “You need to eat well to recover.”

“Oh. Okay.” Theo started eating the extra food on his plate.

“Only eat until you’re full, though,” You instructed.

“Yes, mommy,” Theo answered, smiling at you.

Your baby was home.

——

“Woohoo!” Theo cheered as he rolled down the ramp at a speed carefully controlled by Jungkook.

You finished edging the window and set your brush aside.

The building for the training center was almost finished, and all of the licensing and training that you all needed, and the first classes were slated to start in three days.

“Over here is our obstacle course, which we think will help those training with us, as well as those in physical therapy, learn how to maneuver around things that they’ll come across on a regular day. As you can see, our happy tester is enjoying going down the ramp after he was working on trying to get up it on his own for a while.” Jimin high-fived Theo as he led the group past. “We’re also finishing painting, so try not to touch the walls unless you like paint on you.”

The people chuckled, fascinated by Jimin’s enthusiastic tour. He was showing some hybrid-shelter owners through the facility to sell them the idea of sending hybrids there for training to increase adoption rates. He’d given multiple tours so far, because he was by-far the best at it, aside from Taehyung, but Taehyung had the disadvantage of being a hybrid.

Hoseok was trailing the group, but split off to join you. “They’re practically eating out of his hand.”

“Good. We have bills coming eventually.”

“Yeah.” He sat down next to you. “But this place is amazing. You guys are going to do really well.”

“I hope so.”

Hoseok handed you the folder. “So, I looked things over.”

“Good news, then?” You asked sarcastically.

“Not bad news. He’s learning more slowly, but he’s still learning. As he grows stronger, I think he’ll be okay. He just gets tired so easily that I think it’s causing his trouble. So, once he gets stronger and isn’t as tired, I think he’ll catch up just fine. But for now, he’s going to stay just a little behind. I’m moving up with the class as part of the new program, so I can keep following his progress and helping him.” He patted your shoulder. “I already talked to the higher-ups about it. They agreed that it was important for him to be with his friends. Especially since we’re working on catching him up. And he’s still a bright kid, that catches on quickly. Tired equals distracted, distracted equals slower learning.”

“Thanks for the crayons, teach,” You answered dryly.

He grinned at you. “Hey, there’s a reason I teach kids.”

“Because you are one?”

He laughed and the two of you watched as Jungkook helped Theo work his way up the easiest ramp so he could go down the hardest again.

“He really likes this place. After we left yesterday, it was all he could talk about,” You told him, smiling as Theo cheered on his way down the ramp again.

“His friends are coming to play here, aren’t they?”

You nodded. “They’ll be here soon. Taehyung is waiting to show them in. Their mom’s were excited to hear that this was practically a playground, rainy days are hard.”

“You could market day-passes and make that one room into a playroom for kids, that’d help bring in more income. I know several sets of parents that would bring their younger kids in, especially on rainy days. And if hybrid rights ever get reestablished, you could make it hybrid friendly which would really help.”

Yoongi paused in the doorway and looked at you.

You looked back, then at Hoseok. “So, we told you you’re a shareholder, right?”

Hoseok nodded.

Yoongi pulled out a notebook and wrote the idea down. “I’ll start pricing things and we can discuss it.”

“Theo!”

You looked over as Kevin and Jun ran over.

“Hi!” Theo greeted them enthusiastically and they started talking.

Taehyung was leading in their mothers.

“I should go talk with them,” You excused yourself and headed over.

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you. Thanks for letting the kids play here, it looks great,” Jun’s mother (Debby?) said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic.

“And safe. Kevin has a habit of hitting his head on everything so I’m glad to see everything is padded. Lumps are easy, cuts are hard,” Kevin’s mother (Jamie?) added. “Plus the rain.”

You nodded. “They’re little balls of energy, but I’m really grateful for you two bringing them. Theo was so excited to hear he would get to see them.”

“Jun’s been asking about Theo almost every week. These past months must have been so hard. I don’t think I could have handled it.”

“I have a really good support system,” You answered easily, turning with them to watch the three boys playing, Jungkook keeping an eye on them to help if Theo got stuck.

The other two boys were being really thoughtful and kind and they saw the wheelchair and Theo being stuck in it as a challenge and a game, which would definitely help. They listened when Jungkook did have to help them and they already seemed to be having fun.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to hang around and keep track of them?” Kevin’s mom asked after giving you her husband’s number as well as Kevin’s backpack.

“We’d be happy to help,” Debby added.

You shook your head. “Go home, relax. Or clean, or whatever you need to get done. I’ve got several helpers on hand if I need them, including their favorite teachers. That is, as long as you’re okay with Jin and Taehyung helping out.”

“Of course, this whole law is ridiculous. It won’t last.” Debby waved a hand as if dismissing the law.

“Can’t last, more like. My favorite babysitter is a golden retriever hybrid, she’s been living in our basement ever since this happened. She was really excited to hear about this place, though, so I told her I would bring her once it was open.”

You smiled. “She’d be very welcome, and just let me know if she wants to take any of the classes.”

They nodded and left after telling their boys to behave and listen to you and the other adults.

You went into different rooms, double-checking the painting and making sure everything looked nice and correct.

Namjoon was sorting through the area rugs, placing them in order by thickness and type. This would make it easier to not only determine what carpets might be easier for people in wheelchairs, but help them and those helping them grow accustomed to the type of challenges that different carpets could present.

Yoongi was going through and making notes of different things that still needed to be finished, or other things that came to mind, as well as double checking some of the safety parameters.

Jimin was still talking with the people he was giving the tour to.

Hoseok was sorting through the spare office supplies that all of you had managed to scrounge up (a lot of yours came from your college years, like the dozen or so sticky note pads, the handful of highlighters, a plethora of paperclips and binder clips, push pins, pencils, pens, erasers, loose-leaf lined paper, binders, folders, and index cards—so many index cards), while keeping the kids in his sight should Tae or Jungkook get distracted.

And Seokjin was setting up the kitchen, which was going to be teaching cooking classes as part of companion training, but also used to show the difficulties a person in a wheelchair would face on one side of the kitchen while the other side was made for people in wheelchairs. He really liked the kitchen, and it was his pet project

Which meant you could go and look at the room that wasn’t being used yet.

Hoseok was right, it would make a really good room for kids playing. Something that would be easy to sanitize, but still allow for the kids to play. A slide would easily fit there, some rock wall-type of holds on the wall there….

You backed out of the room and stuck a sticky-note to the door, labeling it the Jungle room.

Yoongi joined you, giving you a questioning look.

“If we’re going to make a room for all kids to play in, we should have a theme for it. Kids like themes. Jungle is a good theme.”

He nodded. “That cafe I told you about, they said if we get busy enough, they’d love to partner with us and open in the cafeteria.”

“That’d be perfect. For now we’re just going to have to offer snacks by the front desk, though.”

“Jimin is on the phone with the local paper.”

You slowly turned toward him again. “What?”

He nodded. “They called, wanting to talk to someone about this place and Jimin saw me starting to stumble so I pretended I was just an assistant and told them I was handing the phone over to one of the founding members. He’s good at the talking thing. Between him, Jimin, and Tae, we should never need to talk on the phone.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” You answered, hurrying to find Jimin because you wanted to know how the interview went.

“Yes, thank you so much for your inquiries. You have a nice day as well.” Jimin hung up, and grinned at you. “Well, we’re definitely getting some attention!”

“What did they ask? What did you say?”

“Well, they asked why we started this, when we were opening, what we were offering—I added on hybrid companion training for the elderly, but I didn’t think you two would mind—and I gave them the answers, I didn’t divulge first names or anything. I used strictly last names, because even that lends us more anonymity and autonomy. I told them we wanted to help our community and those who were currently suffering—I even added that our training areas worked great for kids playing when it was raining outside because they could hear the boys laughing. They asked if we had considered opening it as a playground for the kids as well when it wasn’t being used for training and I answered yes—but I also added that we’d need another permit or two that we haven’t filed for yet. We have considered that, right?”

“We have, actually, we were talking about turning one of the rooms into a kids playroom specifically. Then if we have hybrids who have kids, the kids can play while their parents are in classes,” Yoongi said, definitely adding that to his notebook, as well as the elderly thing. “This is going to be a life-long project, isn’t it?”

“If we’re lucky,” Jimin answered cheerfully.

You left Yoongi grumbling to go check on the boys, noticing that Theo wasn’t playing as much, but he was still laughing with them and apparently they were rescuing him from pirates or something.

Taehyung wrapped an arm around your waist. “You know…I’m really proud of you.”

You relaxed into his hold, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m really happy Theo chose you as his father.”

“I’m really happy you let him,” He whispered, then tilted your chin up to gaze into your eyes for a moment.

Then he leaned in and kissed you, softly and gently, a silent promise for forever.

“I knew it!” Theo yelled happily, definitely staring at you two when you looked over. “YES!”

“Whoops,” You whispered, trying not to laugh. It seemed an age ago that you told Theo not to expect the two of you fall in love. Told him he could call Taehyung his father if he really wanted to.

An age since Taehyung first kissed you.

A lifetime since you told Theo he could adopt a hybrid.

Taehyung laughed and kissed you again. “Thank you for my family.”

“Does that mean you don’t want more pups?” You asked cheekily.

He shrugged. “I’m satisfied with whatever I get in life. If that’s more kids, then I’m not going to complain. But Theo’s enough for me.”

You kissed his cheek and rested in his arms, knowing everything in your future was going to be worth the trials. But he was a natural at helping you through it.

You couldn’t ask for anything better than this.

–

Previous.

Taehyung Masterpost.  Masterlist.  

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[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE BLOOD Vol.2: Mukami Kou [Track 9+10]

Original title: 気持ちいことを考える時間 & 明けることのない夜

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol. 2: Mukami Kou [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Kimura Ryouhei

Translator’s note: Rejet listened to my pleas and there’s no more yucky noises in these last two tracks, thank god. T _ T If it weren’t for track 7 & 8, I’d say this CD was actually quite enjoyable despite Kou not being super high up on my favorites list. I just can’t handle the bodily gore stuff though. ;; You may say I got into the wrong fandom then and maybe I did butー Have some mercy on my weak stomach. xD

Track 1+2 ll Track 3+4 ll Track 5+6 ll Track 7+8 ll Track 9+10

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 9: Time to Think About Pleasure

*Rustle*

“Hm...I’m thirsty again. ...Geez...I wonder if I’ve been successfully caught in your web and stooped down to their level.  Oh well, I guess it’s fine. As long as I have youー and as long as I can have your blood, all of my desires will be fulfilled...”

*Rustle*

“Ah-aaah~ These twig legs...When looking at them, I can’t help but want to rip them to shreds, you see? ...However...I’m feeling quite good right now, so I’ll let you off the hook.”

*Rustle*

[00:40] “Hmー Are you running low on blood, perhaps? Somehow it doesn’t gush out the same way it did before. ...So I’m going to have to increase the pressure on your leg a little...”

He squeezes down as you cry out.

*Rustle rustle*

“There we go. I wonder what will happen if I block your blood circulation like this...~? Ah. Does it hurt? But don’t worry. I’ll give you pleasure in a sec. Say, you’ll forgive me, right?”

You writhe around. 

[01:15] “Haha...I really feel as if I could just tear your leg off with my fangs. You should be grateful to your own blood for being so delicious, otherwise you would lose your limbs in no time. Fufufu...~”

Kou bites you again.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“Mmh...Nn...”

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp gulp*

“Haah...So sweet...and delicious...”

*Sluuuurp*

“Give me more...Hahn...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Hah...”

*Gulp*

“Haah, hah...”

*Gulp*

“Haah...I feel as if I’ve reached my peak as well...You feel good too, don’t you? ...Hey, are you listening to me?”

You just weakly whimper in return.

[02:19] “Hey, answer me. I’m the one asking you a question after all. If you don’t, then I really can’t guarantee your safety. Ah...Did you perhaps come just now? (1) Ahahaha...Honestly, I don’t need to hear your reply, I can tell by the look on your face.”

*Rustle rustle*

“However...You’re still not satisfied yet, are you? I can tell by that greedy look in your eyes. You want me, don’t you~? Well, I suppose I should give you a reward seeing as you managed to get off from my fangs~ I’ll kiss you...~”

*Smooch smooch*

You flinch. 

“...Hm? Why do you seem so surprised? You like this sorta stuff, don’t you? Hah. ...Most foolish human girls are weak to kisses. Mmh...”

*Smooch*

“Ah...”

*Smooch*

“Fufu...”

*Smooch*

[03:32] “...Haahー Honestly, humans are so cheap to feel satisfied just from pressing one’s lips together like this. It’s so easy, it almost seems precious. ...See? You looked somewhat happy for a split second just now, didn’t you? Look at you getting the wrong idea already...I was spot on, wasn’t I?”

You frown.

“Ah-aah, you really are such a fool. Hahaha...”

*Rustle*

[04:06] “Well then...Where should I bite you next? I can feel my body aching, begging for more. ...Hehe. I’ll search for more of their marks and remove all traces of those guys’ fangs. ...Brace yourself.”

*Rustle*

“Hmー Next up is...Here, I guess? The nape. I wonder who sucked from here, huh? Do you remember all that information?”

Kou licks your skin.

[04:44] “I bet you recall it upon having these marks touched and your body starts to ache all over, correct?”

*Rustle*

“Say...What do you want me to do? Should I just plunge my fangs in? I don’t take requests like this very often so come on, hurry up and give me an answer.”

*Rustle*

“Ah, right! Let’s do something they’ve never done to you before! We have plenty of time on our hands after all. ...Hey, are you listening?”

*Smack*

[05:15] “Don’t space out on me now. I’m right in front of you, so you have to stay focused, looking only at me, thinking only of me.”

*Cling cling*

“...Hm? Ah. I still haven’t untied your arms, have I? I doubt you have the energy to fight back anymore, so I suppose I can remove this thing.”

*Cling cling*

[05:48] “Hm...Hahaha...You’re slouching but we’re still far from done, you know? I still want to have lots more fun after all. I’m doing you the honor of giving you my full attention, so I see no reason for you to refuse?”

Track 10: A Never-Ending Night

“Now what to do...~ Well, I suppose I should do something about these marks on your nape first, right? I bet they make you feel disgusted too. ...Don’t they?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Hm...To be honest, it’s the first time I feel this...unexplainable anger towards marks which aren’t my own...For real...I’ll make sure to get rid of all of them...”

Kou bites you.

“Hahn...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Haah...”

*Gulp*

“Haah, hah...”

*Gulp*

“...I have to go deeper...More...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Haah...Haah...!”

*Gulp*

[01:08] “Hah...! ...Phew...I wonder why I just don’t feel satisfied...even when I’ve sucked so much of your blood already...? I just end up craving more and more, wanting to push to the very limit...Until you die...! Exactly. Let’s go to that limit. Don’t you think that might just make it even more enjoyable...? Fufu~ ...Hm?”

*Rustle rustle*

“What’s wrong...? Look at you snuggle up to me...”

You explain.

[01:51] “Your body has gone limp? ...Geez, you’re so hopeless. Come here, I’ll embrace you tightly.”

*Rustle*

“Hm? It hurts...? Well, of course it does. I squeezed you tightly all at once after all. ...See? As a result, blood has started gushing out the wound from earlier.”

*Sluuuurp*

“Hahn...”

*Gulp*

*Sluuuurp*

[02:29] “Haah...You see, this whole time I’ve also been...I guess you would call these dizzy spells? The room’s spinning and my body feels so hot, as if I’m melting...I feel we might just become one. 

[02:55] “At first I thought I had caught myself quite the masochistic kitten. I was convinced you’d upset me and wouldn’t last long but before I knew it, this happened...Laughable. ...Furthermore, I’m frustrated with myself. It doesn’t make sense for someone like me to feel satisfied with someone else’s second-hand goods. (2) Under normal circumstances, I’d never show interest in such a person...”

*Sniff*

[03:37] “When I get a whiff of your nearby scent, I get the urge to plunge my fangs inside. This must be my instincts rather than just a mere reflex, right? Fufu...But that’s what you want as well, isn’t it?”

You remain quiet.

“...Hah! I’ve told you a million times so far, but I expect an answer when I ask you a question. I don’t care if you’re lost in the pleasure from my fangs, getting the cold shoulder still pisses me off. ...Don’t come crying to me afterwards.”

Kou bites you again.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“Hah...”

*Gulp gulp*

[04:29] “Haah, haah...Aah...I still want you more...I’ll devour you whole...With everything I’ve got...You must be happy to hear that, no? Of course you are. You should be grateful...to the blood now flowing through both our bodies. Haah...”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

[05:05] “Mmph...Haah, haah...Come on, open your eyes and look at me. That’s all you need to bring you joy, right? The morning will never come again. ーー Never. Because I’ve already decided I will make you mine. 

“Fufu...Ahaha...It’s fine. I already know you’re happy. So just offer all of your blood to me...as you lie there and think about how glad you are to have become mine, okay?”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“Hahn...Mmh...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Hah...

*Gulp*

“Haah...Haahn...”

*Gulp gulp*

ーー THE END ーー 

Translation notes

(1) いく or ‘iku’ has many meanings, one of which being ‘to climax/to have an orgasm’. 

(2) Kou does use the term second-hand product (中古品), referring to the fact that MC has already been used and bitten by the Sakamaki’s in the past and therefore is no longer ‘pure’. 

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kou mukami #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers more blood #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

[wizardouxie]

PANTONE 2046 C

Genre: Fluff, #ZoeAppreciationWeek

Pairing: Zouxie

Summary: The Pink Hair Origin Story (alternatively also the Blue Hair Origin Story)

Word Count: 2788

Author's Note: First day of Zoe Appreciation Week! Wanted to participate so have this not so little one shot to showcase our lovely pink haired witch <3

"Wow, the dye came out really nicely," Zoe murmurs as Douxie exits the bathroom, his hair freshly blown dry -- from its tips to the full bangs dipped in a deep yet striking blue. He smiles widely at the quiet compliment and waves over to Archie.

"How does it look Arch?" they ask, though the answer is pretty clear, if Archie's fond gaze is anything to go by. The familiar flies in to nuzzle his face.

"Dashing as ever, Douxie."

Zoe leans back into the couch with content, taking in the beautiful sight that is her best friend. She did really good. The faint buzz of adrenaline lingers on the pads of her fingers. Right, she forgot. That was her first time.

"Are. You. Crazy? I've never even dyed hair before!" the natural brown haired girl hissed. She begrudgingly wiped the bubblegum that had exploded over her lips -- a result from the initial shock when Douxie first made his request. Granted, she felt honored that they would come to her before anyone else, but still! She can't risk ruining his hair, she doesn't have experience, plus the hair salon could totally do it better and-

"I'd rather it be you than anyone else," the wizard confirmed firmly. Zoe turned to the familiar. Surely the cat who lived with this stubborn kid could knock some sense into them. Archie could only provide a shrug in response.

"They're pretty sure about this."

She groaned.

"Fine, fine! But give me a few days unless you want me to pick out the wrong dye and end up with neon green."

[ 1 Week Later ]

Zoe couldn't keep track of just how many hair channels and blogs she'd gone through. She mimicked their hand movements, using cheap wigs and mannequin heads to simulate the experience. Through it all, one voice echoed the same message: "You can't mess this up."

She bought all the necessary tools. Gloves, hair clips, bleach, foil, just to name a few. Oh, and of course the dye -- though you'll be surprised how one can forget the simplest things while getting caught up in trying to memorize everything. Blue, Douxie had asked for. But what kind of blue? Sky blue? Cobalt? Midnight? Which one? She pinched the bridge of her nose before angrily texting the wizard. It went a little something like this:

DOUX: go with whatever you think will look good! i'm fine with anything tbh :]

ZOE: i Hate you so much

DOUX: ??? WHY

ZOE: IDK SHIT ABOUT HAIR DYE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT LOOKS GOOD

DOUX: let's talk about this in person before you electrocute your phone again

ZOE: you won't let me live that down will you

DOUX: you know me so well ;)

She shoved the phone back in her pocket. There's no way she was actually doing this for him.

She was.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" she asked for what would be around the 73rd time. Douxie pulled his face down with both hands.

"Ugh, the answer is still yes, love. I'm not asking you to dye the whole thing, just the front part, bangs and sides."

She rolls her eyes at the nickname and smacks the clean brush against his head. She smiles at the little 'ow' that Douxie lets out with a pout. Hm, cute.

"Alright, but don't start moping around if it doesn't come out the way you wanted it!"

"Nothing that a little magic can't fix if it gets to that point. Which I hardly believe it will."

And now here they are.

Douxie crashes on the couch with Zoe, slinging an arm over her shoulders. She raises an eyebrow at the sudden physical touch, but it's never unwelcome. Not when it comes to him.

"You know of all human creations, I gotta say, this one really takes the cake," they start and Zoe snorts.

"You say that about nearly everything."

"Can you blame me?"

She looks at them and no, she really can't. In fact, she finds herself agreeing with him. He looks... really nice. A faint blush spreads over her face; not that it is noticeable by any means -- the two of them happen to have done this dying process starting from the evening to night, so the dim lights in her home do little to highlight her features. This is still her Douxie, lovable guitarist and wizard nerd who cares about everyone. Yet there was something about the hair dye that changed things up a bit. Something good, naturally.

The two of them fall into a comfortable silence, doing whatever is usually available. Sometimes it's texting, scrolling through social media, or listening to music. Other times it's zoning off and reminiscing about the past.

Zoe decides to go for her phone, unconscious of the way her hand finds its way into Douxie's hair, carding through the locks and untangling them with nimble fingers. It's peaceful. Maybe even a little too peaceful, considering the two of them are adrenaline junkies.

"Douxie, I can hear you thinking..." she begins. It's a common way to start the conversation between them, and oftentimes she's right.

He turns around, her hand still in his hair, but enough to meet her eyes. Their own eyes look serious and her heart sinks. Were they not happy with their hair?

The answer is quite the opposite.

"You ever considered dying your hair too? Maybe we can match."

The untangling stops.

And then the tugging starts.

"Ow ow ow-"

"Hisirdoux Casperan you are a menace to society."

She does though. She considers it for weeks. Of course, Douxie doesn't push; it's her hair at the end of the day, she can do whatever she likes. But after seeing how well she did with the wizard, she kinda felt excited. She definitely can't forget the exhilaration she felt when she saw people compliment Douxie at Benoit's or at the GDT book store. Her heart started beating faster when he looked back at her with a proud smile on his face-- damn that wizard, they told the others that she did it for them, didn't they?

After a few days, a young girl in a cap comes up to her at the record store. Probably from Arcadia High, if her backpack stacked with books is any indication.

"Hi! I'm Claire. Claire Nuñez," the girl starts. Zoe raises an eyebrow in interest.

"Hey Claire. What can I get you?" she asks, raising a flask to her lips. There's no water. Damn.

"Um, it's not really a standard request, but um, I was wondering if you could dye my hair?"

Zoe chokes on her water. Dye her what?

"Kid, are you new here? This is a records store. I can give you the direction to the hair salon it's really not that far."

"No, no, no! It's just, this guy got their hair dyed and I asked if he did it himself and they said you did it for them so I came to you. It's nothing too big! Just a strand really," Claire rambles. She gestures to the invisible front of her hair, currently tucked away behind the cap, outlining it with her fingers. The hedge witch groans.

"That would be Douxie. Now, here's the thing I don't do this for just anyone. Douxie happens to be a close friend so what I did was a little gift for him. I don't even know you, so what do I get out of this?"

Claire pales.

"Uh, $20? I know a full head of hair costs way more but like I said, just a strand..."

Zoe's stomach rumbles in response. She had $5 currently in her wallet which could buy a snack at most. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Ugh, you're lucky I'm hungry. Catch me after my shift is done okay? And I only got one color on me, which is blue, you good with that? Otherwise bring your own."

"Yes of course, of course! Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah, now scram if you're not here to buy anything."

"Oh actually, I was wondering if you had anything Papa Skull released recently!"

Curse this girl and her good taste in music.

[ 45 minutes later; 2:00 PM ]

"Thank you for doing this by the way," Claire starts. Zoe waves it off. She doesn't really know why she agreed to this. Well kind of. She wanted to eat. But besides that, she also was curious to see if she could satisfy another "customer". Hair dying was never a profession she had properly considered and right now? It doesn't hurt to entertain a thought.

"Alright so I have the bleach, you'll need to let that set in and keep that before dying the strand you want. We can even add toner to neutralize the color post bleaching if necessary," she lists off. Claire shakes her head.

"That won't be necessary!"

The girl pulls off her cap and surely enough, there's a light blonde lock, similar to Douxie's, just a little lighter. Zoe's impressed.

"Well that definitely makes my job easier. Especially since this is my second time."

"Wait, second time?"

"You didn't know?"

"No?"

"Of course Douxie leaves that part out. You want out? I'll pay you back the $20 in four days."

"No, I trust you."

Zoe always believed that she had tough and cold demeanor. Clearly she's doing something wrong if people are finding her trustworthy just by looking at one dye job.

"Alright then, here we go! Don't say I didn't warn you," the witch replies. She wraps the cloth around Claire softly, and pulls up the bowl with the dye in it. With a gloved hand she separates the pale strands from the brown ones. The blue will definitely be more prominent here than it would be with Douxie's. Something tells her that Claire wouldn't mind.

From the looks of Claire's surprise, wonder, and delight, she definitely didn't mind.

"It. Looks. So cool! You're really good at this. Maybe you should start a hair dying salon or something," the girl rattles off. Zoe raises a hand.

"I'm already working two part time jobs so... no. But I'm glad you liked it. The blue looks really good. Stands out well."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Claire repeats, putting back her cap on. A feeling of confusion overcomes Zoe.

"Wait, why are you putting your cap back on? Don't you want to show people?"

"Duh, but um, my mom doesn't know about, uh, all this. You know, councilwoman things."

Zoe's mouth drops, the $20 bill crumpled in her hand. So that's why she didn't go to the hair salon. Nuñez is the councilwoman, so she'd know pretty much everyone in the town. And word spreads pretty fast. In summary: Claire would have gotten caught.

"See ya!"

These kids are going to land her in some serious trouble one day.

With a burger and soda in her tray, Zoe takes a seat and pulls out her phone. That Claire girl though, she's sort of inspiring. Adventurous. Not hesitant in taking chances. And you know Zoe, she absolutely loves the thrills of life. Whether it be hunting magical creatures or refining her usually unpredictable magic. The humans tend to have mellow definition of risk taking, in her opinion, but their examples are fun enough in their own way: crossing the speed limit, riding rollercoasters, anything along those lines. The brunette clicks on a familiar contact and begins typing.

ZOE: which color looks good on me

ZOE: don't ask it's for a stupid job thing

DOUX: which job?

ZOE: WHAT PART OF DON'T ASK

ZOE: hex tech, something for employee uniforms

DOUX: i was going to say pink since it brings out your eyes but if it's for uniforms i dunno, light blue?

ZOE: hm interesting

DOUX: you should just work here at the book store it's chill

ZOE: but then i'd have to deal with you

DOUX: now is that really a bad thing?

DOUX: zoe.

Light blue is definitely a no go, Zoe decides. Too much blue dye going around. But pink, hm she could work with that. It's a pretty bold color and it would compliment her eyes as well as her face in general. A win-win for her.

And as for how far she's willing to go? She decides to go all in. No tips, no ombre, just complete bubblegum hair. Of course this takes a few days to gather the guts.

'You can do it Zoe, just go for the bleach,' she thinks to herself. Her hands shake with nervousness and excitement. Frankly, hunting niffins didn't compare to the rush she's feeling right now. She closes her eyes and brings the brush to her hair.

Well, here goes nothing.

She winces as she feels the tingling sensation, but loads of videos have assured that such symptoms were normal. She continues to work at it, using the foil to make sure she doesn't bleach a part of her hair to death. It's long and strenuous, but she knows the results in the few coming weeks would be worth it.

She doesn't have to worry about Douxie finding out thankfully. Turns out these weeks are essential for Merlin's "To-Do" List. Apparently it was to find Camelot?

"The castle he means. Not the actual kingdom. That's been gone for centuries. Anyways, I'll be back once I actually find it. Dunno how I'll do it and it probably will take me and Arch a month or so, haha. Oh! And if my hirers ask you anything, it's a family emergency."

Hm, whatever. A brief thought of Merlin dying his hair neon green amuses her, before she goes back to watching more hair dye videos. They've become a little addicting nowadays. She's amazed at how often people do it. How do they keep their hair so healthy?

It's been four weeks now and Zoe's eyes stare at the pink concoction in her hand. PANTONE 2046 C. This was the shade that stole her heart in the middle of the hair dye aisle. No other color could compare in the slightest. Even the cashier who packaged her order hummed in approval.

"Nice color! Not many go for it, but it'll suit you for sure."

This time her movements are calculated, not clumsy or fear driven like it used to be. One could even say she's getting the hang of this. Her hair over time changes from platinum blonde to a dark matted pink. She lets it sit for a bit, meanwhile focusing on getting the dye out of her hands. This turns out to be harder than she thought and she sighs. Well, maybe another day.

After washing and blow drying her hair, she stands in front of the mirror. The witch staring back at her is almost unrecognizable. As if she were a new person completely. And she liked it.

The blank stare shifts into a grin and she tugs at her own locks. Goddamn. She looks really good.

And well, Douxie's reaction is priceless to say the least.

DOUX: you said to meet up at the museum where are you

DOUX: i swear if you slept in i'll send archie to knock down everything in your apartment

DOUX: ok no i won't but still it's been a month since we last saw each other come on

DOUX: wait a second

DOUX: you're joking

DOUX: IS THAT??? YOU????

DOUX: IN THE PINK

DOUX: oh fuzzbuckets you look stunning

DOUX: Hello this is Archie. You broke Douxie so could you please finish your conversation with whoever it is you're with and come pick him up? Your hair is absolutely lovely by the way.

ZOE: omfg

ZOE: can't take you guys anywhere

The witch smiles at the girls and nods over to a gaping Douxie and his cat before gracefully exiting the conversation. She approaches her friend and pushes his jaw up with her index finger.

"So I'm assuming you're digging the new look hm?" she teases.

"You have no idea," Douxie responds. A pink tint lighter than the shade of her hair blooms across Zoe's face at the expression of adoration in her best friend's eyes. The two of them have been through a lot together, seeing each other grow and change. And this time, it was a really fun and welcome one.

"I might try this again with a different color some time. You wanna join then?"

"Don't have to ask me twice."

It's crazy how all of this came from a chaotic, impulsive research project to help a friend. But honestly Zoe wouldn't have it any other way.

Maybe Douxie was right. Of all human creations, this one beats pretty much everything else.

#ZoeAppreciationWeek #zoeappreciationweek #here's my entry hehe #enjoy! #toa #tales of arcadia #zoe #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #zouxie #archie #claire #claire nuñez #ophelia #ophelia nuñez

[thatslikely]

Detention - D.M.

Detention- Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (gryffindor)

Warnings: none!  just more fluff <3

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: A fun Draco fic with an enemies to lovers type of situation!  I’m really happy with how this one turned out and I hope you guys enjoy it too!  I’m definitely going to make a Seeker part 2 so don’t worry, but I also have a George Weasley x Reader idea in the works too!  Please feel free to send me your feedback (and you can always send me an ask or message for the taglist).

Just a Reminder: Y/N is Your Name 

----

“Detention!  For both of you!” Professor McGonagall’s voice rang loudly through her office.  The countless living paintings that speckled the candle-lit stone walls shook at her declaration.  

She disappointedly looked at you before marking your name on a piece of parchment that lay on the desk in front of her.  You felt guilty that you had forced your favorite professor (and the head of your house) to give you a detention.  Especially detention in the Forbidden Forest with none other than Draco Malfoy. 

You couldn’t even bear to look at the pouting Slytherin’s face beside you.  It was his fault that you now had to spend your Saturday night roaming through the eerie trees of the Dark forest.  If he hadn’t snatched your Charms essay mid-sentence then maybe you wouldn’t have shot a hex in his direction!  Fortunately for him, however, your clever hex missed the mischievous Malfoy by a single blonde hair, and now poor Neville’s shoes are glued to the worn hardwood floors of the library.    

Your forest escort arrived promptly.  You were thankful Filch was busy with other duties, so one of your Gryffindor prefects was chosen instead.  McGonagall sent your prefect a nod and as he signaled for the two of you to follow him, you finally made eye contact with Malfoy, shooting him a murderous glare.  He quickly responded with a scowl before walking out the door and into the familiar hall towards the forest.  

After several minutes of awkward silence, the three of you finally reached the inviting entrance of Hagrid’s hut.  The warm glow emitting through the windows of the stone shack contrasted greatly against the clear, pitch-black sky.   

Judging by the disgusted expression on Malfoy’s face, it was clear that he wasn’t fond of the half-giant or his home.  Maybe Hagrid would be a little sympathetic for your cause, and you could get away early.  

After a few moments, Hagrid emerged from his hut, a homemade wooden crossbow strung across his chest and a woven basket in hand.  Fang sat lazily at his side, drool dripping from his snout.  The groundskeeper tiredly said, “Tonight, you two’ll be searchin’ in the forest for some knotgrass.  Once this basket ‘ere is full, yer free to go.” 

Draco begrudgingly took the woven basket from Hagrid’s large hands with an eye roll.  Shortly after a bit more detailed instructions from Hagrid, you and the blonde reluctantly embarked towards the winding dirt path leading into the woods.  The only thing illuminating your late-night journey was the pearly full moon overhead and the small beams of light emitting from the ends of your wands.

You two walked through the spooky trees in silence, annoyed looks plastered on your faces.  Once the both of you had been walking around with the irritatingly empty basket for a while, you finally asked with a grimace, “Do you even know what knotgrass looks like?”  

“Of course, I know what knotgrass looks like.  Do you take me for an idiot?  Do I even have to remind you that I’m top of the class for Potions?” he spat, defensive and rude.  

“How is your expansive Potions knowledge going to help us here in the middle of the Forbidden Forest?  It’s your fault I’m even here in the first place!” 

“My fault?  Says the girl who nearly killed me after I so much as glanced at your pitiful Charms essay!  You’re a bloody psycho!”  His over-exaggerated recounting of what happened in the library would surely be a hit with his Slytherin worshippers, but not with you.   

Instead of disputing his accusations, you tore the straw basket from his ring-adorned hands, hissing, “Fine.  If I’m so insane, just leave me alone and let me collect it myself!”  You turned the opposite direction, speeding up your pace, leaving Malfoy alone in the dark. 

Draco stood, mouth agape, for a moment before quickly dashing up behind you, grabbing hold of your wrist.  “Where do you think you’re going.  I’m not gonna die in this stupid forest because of you!  Give me that basket.”  

He spun you around to face him, his grip on your wrist as tight as ever.  His hand was cold and strong; the silver snake rings that wrapped around his fingers dug into your skin.  You looked up into his captivating silver eyes, and for the first time, you didn’t see pure malice.  The starlight made his eyes shine nicely, which you hated to admit.

Your gazes were interlocked for a few electric seconds, which felt like hours, before Draco raised his eyebrows in shock, realizing how close his face had gotten to yours.  In one swift motion, he freed your arm from his grasp, and the basket was now in his control.  He awkwardly turned away from you, simultaneously wiping his palm up and down his black robe.  You caught a quick glance of his face, which was a pronounced shade of pink, visible even in the dim moonlight. 

You noticed your breaths became heavier, and your cheeks were scorching hot.  What just happened? you thought, why did that feel so… strange?  Nothing should’ve felt different.  It was just another irritating interaction with your Slytherin enemy.  He’s just the same old spoiled brat.  

You tried to get the intrusive thoughts of your strange interaction with Draco out of your head by focusing on finding the elusive plant.  You weren’t too sure what it was supposed to look like, so after minutes of searching, you were left with a fistful of mismatched stems and leaves.  

Once you couldn’t hold any more of the mismatched plants you had collected, you silently stepped behind the bent over Draco, reaching down to dump the stems in the basket which he firmly grasped at his side.

Draco, who was lost in thought, didn’t realize you were right behind him until a loud twig cracked right under your shoe as you were mere inches from the back of his head and the basket.  

Frightened by the sudden noise, he hastily turned around with his hawthorn wand ready.  Only, instead of being face to face with a rabid werewolf, his elbow was met harshly with your nose. You immediately recoiled from the Slytherin with a roaring yelp.  You instinctively reached for your nose, where blood was slowly dripping out and onto the ground. Great.  

While you were tilting your head back to alleviate the blood flow, Draco stared at you dumbfounded.  The situation at hand eventually sunk in, and he ran to your side, his hand on your shoulder, concernedly.  After you groaned in annoyance for a few seconds he asked, “Are you okay?”

You cocked an eyebrow, taken aback by his oddly sympathetic question.  He quickly realized the tone of what he said, withdrawing his hand from your shoulder.  With a significantly icier tone, he said, “You should’ve been more careful, Y/N.”  

You embarrassedly turned away from Draco, ready to wipe off your blood-coated hands on your robe when you felt a timid tap on your shoulder.  Draco stretched his arm to you, a white silk handkerchief with the initials D. L. M. embroidered in emerald green between his fingers.  He kept his head turned sharply away from you, his nose in a scrunch. 

You eyed his handsome punchable face suspiciously before you slowly accepted the handkerchief.  Before you put it to your nose, you bluntly stated, “I’ll get blood on it, you know.”

“I’m not stupid, I know that.  I gave you my cheap one, so keep it.  Don’t want your filthy germs anyway.”  

“You’re lucky I haven’t hexed your brains out yet,” you said with a sly smile.   

He mimed himself looking mockingly scared at your comment, but a satisfactory smile soon crept onto his face at the sight of your nose softly pressed into the ivory silk.  He was probably just glad to not hear you complain anymore.

----

The basket was nearly full of what you hoped were knotgrass stems, though it seemed your “expert Potions student” also couldn’t pinpoint the plants.  Both of you had also grown very tired, out for what was probably hours.  At long last, Draco plucked one final handful of leaves, making the basket full enough to your standards.  You and Draco simultaneously let out a sigh of relief, finally being done with this grueling punishment.  

Normally, post-detention, you would attempt to send Draco some of the Weasley twin’s dangerous concoctions for extra revenge, but he was being abnormally kind to you tonight, in his own Malfoy way.  Plus, this night had taken a huge toll on you both; you don’t even know if you had the energy to still be mad at him.

The two of you slowly trudged back to Hagrid’s, a joyful feeling in your chest since this strange night was finally over.  As you continued down the dimly-lit path, the platinum blonde who was previously at your side was nowhere to be seen.  You assumed he had snuck up ahead, ready to jump out at you from behind one of the towering black trees.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d try to scare the hell out of you, to say the least. 

You kept following the path, your eyes darting around at every noise.  You were on high alert for your Slytherin rival, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of scaring you.  The further down you went without seeing Draco though, the more nervous you got.  Not just for the possibility of him scaring you, but for his safety.  You’d heard so many horror stories about the Forbidden Forest you could probably write a book.  

Finally, you mustered the courage to call for Draco.  You repeatedly yelled “Draco!”, slightly louder every time you didn’t receive a response.  Now you were really worried.  He was your sworn enemy, sure, but you didn’t want him dead in the forest.

After more minutes of shouting and worrying, you heard some rustling around you.  “Draco?  Try and scare me!  Don’t think I won’t hesita-”

You were quickly cut off by the noise you dreaded the most: the piercing howl of a werewolf.  You, and seemingly the whole forest, froze within an instant.  You rapidly placed your hand over your mouth, hoping that even your breaths couldn’t be heard.   

Your thoughts immediately went to Draco, alone in the forest, with a werewolf on the prowl.  While you should have been much more worried about yourself in such a vulnerable position, the blonde Slytherin couldn’t seem to leave your brain.  

Your head was so clouded with Draco that you didn’t pay attention to the sound of claw-steps growing closer to you by the second.  By the time you realized that you should shoot some crimson sparks up for help, a loud and intimidating growl emitted from the shrubbery right in front of you.

Without hesitation, you bolted away from the bushes as fast as your feet would take you.  You couldn’t get far though, as the silver, moonlight-drenched werewolf stood ahead of you once again, this time on full display.

Its sharp, horrendous fangs resembled the pointed stalactites of underground caves; its violent yellow eyes were a match for Hufflepuff robes, though Hufflepuffs were probably slightly less vicious.  

The werewolf stared at you, almost mockingly.  The snarl of its mouth could almost be described as a smirk, similar to the one which your blonde detention-mate often wore.  Your final thoughts before death at the hands of a werewolf would be, of all things, Draco. 

The werewolf reared its arm back, ready to claw you to death, and a single tear ran down your face.  It was too late to run, too late to hide, too late to do anything but die.  

Draco Malfoy, however, had other plans.  He bolted between you and the werewolf, rapidly pointing his wand out at the beast.  He yelled “Stupify!” at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse and his lungs out of breath.  

You were too shocked by Draco’s sudden reappearance and act of heroism to notice the protective and caring grasp Draco had around your hand.  His touch felt different than when he held your wrist, his hand was now warm and soft.  

Your eyes were blurry with tears, and coupled with the dark night sky, you could barely see.  The only thing guiding you was Draco’s hand, pulling you towards the outskirts of the forest.  

You were too scared to look back in search of the werewolf, but Draco didn’t express worry that it would come back.  Instead, he pulled you closer to him, your head leaning on his chest.  His chest rose and fell quickly, his heartbeat rapid and quick.

After what felt like hours upon hours of running in the pitch black towards nothing, you and the not-so-bad blonde were back safely in front of Hagrid’s hut.  The tears in your eyes had finally dried, though you definitely weren’t looking your best.  

Under the light from Hagrid’s windows, Draco could see your matted hair, smudged mascara, and a bit of dried blood under your nose.  He could have easily made a snide comment at your expense, but instead, he reached to your face, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of your eyes.  

You looked up from your feet at the handsome blonde in front of you.  He held a guilty smile on his face, but he seemed to be okay.  You’d been so terrified these past few hours that all you could think to do was practically jump onto Draco, giving him a tight hug.

At first, he didn’t know what to do when you latched your arms around his chest in a tight hug.  The last hug he ever got from someone was his first day of Hogwarts, at Platform 9 ¾.  His mother tightly embraced him before sending him off to proudly strut onto the train.  

His body apparently missed the feeling more than it let on, for butterflies exploded in his whole body the moment your soft skin wrapped around him tightly.  He could faintly smell your shampoo as he hesitantly latched onto you.

The feeling of his arms around you was like nothing you’ve experienced before.  Sure, you’d hugged people in the past, but this felt different.  You felt your heartbeat quicken, and your whole body felt warmer.  You felt secure and comfortable.

Little did the two of you know, Hagrid stood in the doorway of his humble abode, a knowing smile painted on his lips.  He let out a small “ahem” before the hug was broken.  You and Draco swiveled to face the half-giant, who reached out his arm expectantly.  

Only then did Draco realize that he left the basket behind after the werewolf encounter, and a look of shock and embarrassment coated his face.  

“I must’ve left it back in the forest.  I’ll come back tomorrow night to regather the knotgrass. Just  let Draco off the hook, please?” Your face had a pleading expression, a slightly pained look in your eyes.  

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Y/N.  I know all ‘bout yer werewolf encounter, I’m ser Snape can live without a bit of knotgrass fer a few more days.”  Hagrid warmly smiled at you.

The castle felt miles away from the outskirts of the forest.  Draco was back to being his usual cold self, facing away from you as you both trudged to the school.

Eventually, you finally stood at the large wooden doors of the main entrance to Hogwarts.  Within moments, you would be back within its comforting walls, which would surely soothe the new pounding sensation in your head.  

You reached for the large, rusted metal doorknobs, ready to be greeted with the castle’s uplifting energy, when Draco grabbed your free hand, pulling you away from the handle. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to be rude to the Slytherin, after all he did for you, so instead, you asked calmly, “What is it?”

The glow of torches which adorned Hogwarts’ stoney outer walls made Draco’s hair look magnificently golden, contrasting the way the pale moonlight made his locks seem almost silver.  His silver eyes stared into yours, and for a moment you swear you saw his gaze flicker to your lips.  

Your face heated up at the sight of his charming gaze and smile.  You hadn’t even noticed how close his face was to yours until you felt the heat radiating from his pale cheeks.  He quickly closed the minuscule gap between the two of you by passionately connecting your lips. 

The electricity in the air was hard to ignore.  The late hours of the night just added to the rush of feelings you got when your and Draco’s lips touched.  You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer; one of his warm hands cupped your cheek and the other sat around your waist.  

After several moments of slow and loving kissing, your lips disconnected.  Your lips missed the feeling of his’, but you were still satisfied.  Draco pulled the large wooden door open, stepping inside with you, your fingers intertwined.  

“I might just have to steal another one of your pathetic essays soon,” Draco said, a genuine look of love in his eyes accompanied by his signature smirk.

“You’re such a git, Malfoy.  Though, I wouldn’t mind spending some more time with you, as long as there’s no werewolves involved, okay?”  

And with that, you pulled him closer for another quick, affectionate kiss before giddily walking up to the Gryffindor common room.

#draco fanfiction #draco #draco fluff #dating draco malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco lucius malfoy #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x gryffindor!reader #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #draco headcanons

[mystic-deep]

"Sensei said girls love swans." | Okkotsu Yuuta x fem!reader

♡ ♡ ♡ description: Just a small box of chocolates, bought on a whim, gifted for no apparent reason. Or so you say.

♡ ♡ ♡ warnings: none, good bad advices from Gojo.

♡ ♡ ♡ notes: I'm working on three other stories with Nanami, Gojo and Toji but had to write something for best boy Yuuta. We're getting volume 0 animated! This was done at the speed of light so please forgive any errors.

♡ ♡ ♡ word count: 2.29 k

Valentine’s Day was quite a surprise this year. You didn’t expect the world to just revert back to old habits so soon, but then again you understood the craving for what was once considered normal. More than a year had passed since the Shibuya incident and with Gojo Satoru finally being released from his prison, things were slowly calming down.

Two major changes came as a result of the near annihilation of Tokyo, one was that now the world was aware of the existence of curses and two was the high number of people that had awoken cursed energy. What were once empty classrooms and training grounds of the Jujutsu Tokyo High School, were now filled with first year students ready to learn from the best. Although the older generation was composed of just a handful of students, they were really the top of the Jujutsu world.

All of your senpais were impressive in their own right so all of them had gathered quite a following of first years. The most popular, by far, was Fushiguro Megumi, the one that possessed the Ten Shadows Technique of the Zen’in clan. A lethal combination of looks, power and status, or so your classmates claimed.

On the opposite end of the spectrum was the third year Okkotsu Yuuta. He was a rare sight on campus and whenever he was present he didn’t interact much with any of the first years. The first time you’ve met him was during a group mission where he was there to supervise. The curse ended up being a special grade and if Yuuta hadn’t jumped in to help you, you’d all be dead. You still remember the bitterness of your classmates when he offered his feedback. Clearly he was right on all points but he didn’t honey glazed any of his words. That incident had caused a string of nasty rumours to spread and everyone in your class began to avoid him as much as possible. You guessed no one was in a hurry to offer him any gifts today.

As for yourself, you tagged along with some of the girls from your class as they chose the best chocolates for their favourite senpais. You didn’t have anyone you really wanted to gift them to, so you bought a small box purely for selfish reasons.

You headed back to campus and as you approached the training grounds you noticed that a small crowd of students were already gathered there. In the middle of them stood Megumi whose arms could barely hold the large number of gifts he had received. The deadpan expression on his face made it clear he wasn’t enjoying the attention.

“You girls better hurry, Megumi-kun looks like he has reached his limit.”

Turning around you were greeted by Gojo who was also carrying quite an impressive quantity of Valentine’s gifts.

“Sensei is really popular.”

“Please don’t sound so surprised.”

As your little conversation went on, your friends quickly abandoned you in order to join the crowd.

“Not gonna join them?” You shook your head as your hands tighten on the handle of your backpack where your box of chocolates was hiding.

“I didn’t buy any chocolates...I mean I did buy chocolates just not for...I should probably head to class.” Feeling too ashamed to admit your selfish purchase, you hurried down the path to the main entrance before Gojo could question you further.

Just as you were about to reach your destination you suddenly noticed a figure not too far from you. Yuuta was strolling along the same path and his expression was not a happy one. Your earlier guess must have been correct judging by his slumped shoulders. Now you never truly worried yourself with his well being, but it just felt so incredibly unfair that he was marginalized like this. At the end of the day, even if he wasn’t easy to talk to, he was a responsible senpai who wouldn’t hesitate to jump in to help others when needed. With that thought in mind, you quickened your pace and called out to him.

“Okkotsu-senpai! Okkotsu-senpai, please wait!”

He stopped in his track and turned to look at you with a surprised expression.

“Y/n-chan, are you okay?”

You nodded as you caught up with him, impressed that he even bothered to remember your name, and opened your backpack to retrieve the box of chocolates.

“For you senpai, Happy Valentine’s Day!” You gave him the most sincere smile you could muster and handed him the small box. Oh well, better for your cavities you suppose.

With a trembling hand he took the small gift and grinned from ear to ear. “Thank you! I’ll treasure it!” It was just a box of cheap chocolates, you thought, definitely not worth the excitement.

“Urm I’m happy you like them. Anyway, have a good day, see you around!” You practically dashed to your classroom, cheeks red from embarrassment. You didn’t know why you were so nervous or why that silly grin of his made you so flustered.

As you sat down at your desk, you wondered if you did the right thing. You didn’t want him to believe you had feelings for him and you also hoped he didn’t think you did it out of pity. You just thought it was the right thing to do at that time and it was just a small gesture, definitely not worth a second thought.

Or so you hoped until White Day arrived and you found quite a surprising gift on your desk that morning. A large bouquet of roses, there must have been over a hundred. No note though, as if the person that had left them just expected for you to know whom they were from.

You could hear the whispers of your classmates and you shifted uncomfortably. You weren’t really popular, no reasons for someone to give you such an impressive present, so of course rumours began to spread.

As you sat on a bench during lunch break with the bouquet in your lap, you raked up your brain trying to figure out who would offer you flowers.

“Oh no, you don’t like them!”

Yuuta’s voice brought you back to reality and you blinked ever so slowly as you looked at his worried expression. Your eyes dropped to the red roses in your lap and then back to your senpai that was just a few feet away from the bench you were sitting.

“These...these are from you?” Well you did gift him that box of chocolates and this was White Day, technically he was supposed to return the gift. Still, a cheap box of bonbons couldn’t compare to the expensive bouquet that he had gifted back.

“Gojo-sensei said you’re supposed to buy something impressive in order to show your appreciation for the gift you received. I didn’t know what you liked and he suggested roses, he said all girls loved red roses.”

Of course it was Gojo Satoru, it was always Gojo Satoru.

“Senpai, thank you, but this is too much! Those chocolates weren’t really that expensive.”

“No, no, they were pretty good! I ended up eating the whole box! Gojo-sensei tried to steal one away, that didn’t end up well for him.” Good, you thought, he deserved it for unnecessarily complicating things.

“Well if you say so, then I’m happy. I’ve never received flowers before, well my father bought me a bouquet when I graduated middle school but I don’t think that counts.”

“I’ve never received chocolates before, so I guess we’re both at the beginning.” The beginning of what, you wondered, as he offered you a somewhat sly smile.

“I should get these to my room before they wither.”

“Yeah I should probably head to the training ground.” You said your respective farewells before going in opposite directions. This had been awkward to say the least and you were glad it was over.

However, naivety got the best of you. The next morning you were greeted by a large teddy bear that was placed in your seat. Your eyebrow began to twitch as you heard whispers spreading in the classroom.

“Hey is that from Okkotsu? Super creepy!”

“Yeah, poor Y/n-chan.”

“What do you mean by that?” Your patience had reached its limit and with narrowed eyes you turned to look at the girls you heard whispering.

“Don’t you know, Okkotsu curses his lovers!”

“Yeah, he becomes obsessed with them and then they die in mysterious ways!”

“That is literally the most idiotic thing I’ve heard in my life.” Sure, you knew the story of Rika, but from actual reliable sources you also knew that it was a tragic accident that happened when Yuuta was only a child. It was disturbing how they twisted the story just because they were afraid of him.

“If you have this much time to waste on spreading such stupid rumours then I suggest you channel that energy in training. Otherwise you’ll be stuck at grade 4 until the end of days.” As a grade 2 sorcerer yourself, maybe you shouldn’t have looked down on them, but for some reason the way they were acting towards Yuuta was just infuriating and you found yourself becoming quite protective.

You never snapped at them like this before, if anything you were considered quite docile, so the whole class fell silent. You grabbed the giant teddy bear from your seat and stomped towards the door, nearly bumping into Gojo as the later stepped inside the room.

“Where you going Y/n-chan? Class is about the start.”

“I’m going to find Yuuta!” You huffed and walked out of the classroom, knowing full well that you will probably get punished for your actions.

“Y/n-chan is so determined! Everyone, you should have more determination as well!” That was the last thing you heard as Gojo closed the door behind you.

You began your search for Yuuta, trying to ignore the looks that the faculty members you came across were giving you. You must have looked quite ridiculous, carrying that large teddy bear around.

You finally found him near the armoury, and judging from his sweaty appearance you guessed he had just finished training.

“Senpai!”

He looked at you, almost in a panicked way and you quickened your pace so he couldn’t make a run for it.

“Y/n-chan, what-”

“Senpai, this has to stop.” You really didn’t want to tell him your real motives from that day but you also couldn’t let this chain of gifts continue.

“That box of chocolates wasn’t initially for you. I bought it for myself, I only gave it to you because senpai looked so upset. I’m sorry that you misunderstood, it’s not pity or anything, I just thought you deserved it.” You didn’t even stop to breath, you had to let it all out and explain before you lost your nerve. “I’m really happy you liked them but I don’t deserve all these presents in return.”

You looked at him and expected to see anger or disappointment, instead you were greeted with light laughter.

“You’re really cute! Maki-san said not to tease you too much because you’re such a good girl. I guess she didn’t realize how much of a good girl you actually are.” The way he said ‘good girl’ made your heart skip a beat. It sounded almost provocative.

Within a second, he had closed the distance between the two of you and his hand reached to stroke your cheek ever so gentle. Suddenly he was there and you became hyperaware of his powerful presence. You noticed the pretty colour of his eyes, how his hand was just a bit rough and how that small smirk of his made your knees weak and your cheeks burn. You gulped and he seemed to enjoy your reaction.

“I don’t mind that the box of chocolates wasn’t for me. I’m just glad it gave me the opportunity to talk to you.” At this point you felt so bad you hoped the earth beneath you would just crack open and swallow you whole.

“Anyway, you should probably head to class before Gojo-sensei gets upset. Let me get that for you.” He reached for the teddy bear in your arms but you gripped it and pulled back.

“I would like to keep this, it’s a special gift from senpai and I’ll treasure it.” Sure this all began because of a silly box of chocolates but you were also happy that you finally got to see a glimpse of him that not many people got the chance to see. Now that you had a taste of it, you wanted more.

“Well I wasn’t planning on taking it away, just wanted to help you carry it.”

“It’s fine, the whole school saw me already so I might as well parade with it back to class.”

He studied your face for a few moments before his expression turned serious.

“Y/n-chan, do you think we could go-”

“I’d love to go on a date!”

You beat him to it but you wanted to make sure he knew, even before asking, that you really wanted to get to know him better.

“I see, I’m really happy.” His hand reached for yours and gripped it gently. It never failed to surprise you how cool and confident he looked at times and then he did a one hundred eighty and turned into this awkward and adorable mess.

“I must admit this is the first time I’ve asked someone out. I’ll be sure to ask Gojo-sensei-”

“Oh no, please promise me to never ask Gojo-sensei for advice concerning girls.” He was probably laughing like a mad man while giving Yuuta such cringe worthy ideas for your gifts.

“Oh but sensei said girls love swans and-”

“Never!”

#jujutsu kaisen #okkotsu yuuta #okkotsu yuuta x reader #gojo satoru #yuuta okkotsu

[natromanxoff]

22 - Cars & Queenie Days

Hi there Queenie people.

What a strange little weekend this one turned out to be. Let me start by saying that most of my stories seem to have something to do with alcohol, but we were all a hell of a lot younger then, and I for one cannot do that anymore, well not all the time. Although a few days ago an old friend made a guest appearance, the Kurgen was let loose on the streets of Bondi which seemed to start a string of Queen type events. It all started about midday on Saturday when a friend of mine phoned and suggested lunch, what a fantastic idea as it was a lovely hot sunny day, so we met in a nice place with a garden and ordered the first bottle of wine, and it was the Linda Lovelace of vino, it went down very quickly and easily. During the course of the afternoon I phoned my mate Steve and said he should join us, which he did at about 8pm, and we finally moved indoors to have dinner, after sitting in the sun and guzzling wine for the last six hours, and needless to say I'm pissed so we ordered some more food and what turned out to be the last bottle of plonk for the evening.

Half way through dinner Rebecca decided she was to out of it to continue, and wisely went home, leaving the Kurgen and his mate, who has decided he's gonna catch up with me, what a good friend eh, but him getting drunk means me becoming a complete gibbering idiot. After dining we moved next door to the bar where the whisky was flowing very rapidly and the idiot telling one barmaid she looked like a cheap hooker, while swearing his undying love to another. Oh, get me another drink Steve, I think I need one. It finally gets to 1am and time to head home, it's been a long day, and while trying to negotiate the 10min walk I was complaining that my right leg wouldn't work, usual drunken crap.

What has this got to do with Queen I hear you ask, well, apart from the fact that a million years ago I worked for them for a while, not very much. Steve and myself eventually got back to my place and I got phoneitis and I had the need to speak with everyone from my dodgey past, so, phone book out and lets go. Pride of place went to Mr Deacon who was lucky to be speaking on the phone so the Kurgen, after two tries, couldn't get through. Time up for you pal, next. Broughie. He always calls me when he's legless, now it's his turn to try and decipher what I'm on about. When I got through to Trip I can remember saying, "Where the f*** are you?" And do you know what, I have no idea what the answer was, though he did say they cancelled a couple of shows, and everyone was having a great time. This is fun, lets spend some more money. The next call started with, "Mr Taylor, it's Mr Taylor here." Sorry Rog, but you did pick up the phone. I did tell him I'd listened to his new stuff on his website and it's the best stuff he'd done in years, and I have an awful feeling I said that I didn't like 'Happiness,' but he did say that he reads my memoirs, so if you get to see this Mr T. I'll try and be a bit more sober next time I call.

Jacky followed, phone was busy (No it wasn't, we were out, you left a message!!) , gotta move on, I'm on a roll now. A new game, lets try and track down my ex in LA, no luck, thank god, and with that my new accountant Steve took the phone away from me, thanks dear boy. He clears off around 3 and I hit the sack and descend into a coma. Ring ring.....ring ring. Its 9am, who the f*** is phoning in the middle of the night, so, with head pounding I track the phone down and had to raise a bit of a giggle, it's Broughie and now he's pissed and he told me that in nearly twenty years of knowing me, that is the worst he's ever heard me try and talk, to which I reply that this is the worst I've ever felt.

Spandau's Tony Hadley was the next person I speak to, what a diamond geezer, always nice to chat with him. Sunday was a non-existent day with a phone that had no sympathy for me and kept ringing, amazingly it's still in one piece. A wet Monday and I'm still feeling a bit iffy, but come afternoon I receive a package in the post, I like little surprises, so when I walk in and turn the radio on Bo Rap is playing, and when I open my pressie it's from the ever gorgeous Jacky who has very kindly sent me RT's Electric Fire. You know what I mean, his new CD not the electric fire out of his bedroom. I'm glad I told him it was great, cause it is, in my humble opinion, possibly the best thing he's done. That was a hell of a lot of words just to say " go and buy Electric fire and put it in the charts, you won't be disappointed".

I was chatting with Greg Fryer, the fireplace restorer, and we're both looking forward to the Australian convention in a few weeks, although I might be drinking lemonade as I made the idiot promise that "I'm never drinking again". Some time ago somebody asked me a question which went something like, "When you were in the studio with just Roger or the Cross, was it a bit of an anti climax after working with Queen as they were such brilliant musicians." I don't know if I'm missing something here, but as Roger was a solo artist, a member of the Cross and also in Queen, surely that must make him brilliant. Well, whatever your name was, no it wasn't boring it was mostly fun. When he was producing other acts I must admit that I did a lot of sitting around doing bugger all, and I every act were ok as people, though once Jimmy Nail had a hit he did get a rather large ego and changed into a real prat.

Virginia Wolf had two old buddies of mine in the band, Joe Burt and Jason Bonham, so when we went to Ibiza to record it was party time from start to finish, though Jason did go overboard a bit, so to protect us more than him we sent him back to England. I was only involved in one Cross album, Shove It, and that was just going to be another RT solo album so he played all the instruments himself.

I think I've mentioned before that we drove the Bentley to Montreux, well this was the time. The plan was to spend three or four days in Montreux recording then go to Gstaad to write some more songs. That was the excuse because we had a huge chalet there and the idea was to do a lot of skiing and a bit of writing, which is exactly what we did. It was in Gstaad that Roger came up with the idea of forming a band, and after a hard day on the slopes we would sit around at night working out a plan on putting a band together. On the subject of Bentleys and Gstaad I feel obliged to tell you just how much bad luck RT has with his cars.

When he bought his first Range Rover he claimed "You can park them on a sixpence." We had to tow him out of a ditch. His Ferrari burst into flames on his way to the south of France, and his Aston Martin also burst into flames. He hardly ever drove the Bentley, it was my baby and I loved it and never had any problems. Dominique decided she was going to join our little ski trip and was coming to Gstaad, now don't get me wrong, I love Dom, a fine lady, still is, it's just that I didn't fancy the hour drive down the mountain and then the hour along the motorway to the airport. On the day of her arrival RT surprised me by saying he was going to pick her up, that'll do me, drop me off at the chair lift and have a nice drive. A very pleasant afternoon was spent on the piste so when I get back to the house I'm ready for some mindless computer games, and while in the middle of shooting some aliens the phone rings and it's Dominique asking where Roger was as he's not at the airport to pick her up.

The only thing I can say is for her to hang on because he left in plenty of time so he should be there, and I'm back to saving the world. Hours later the door flies open with Roger ranting and raving and saying something about F-in-cars. What's his problem? I look out the window and in the driveway is a VW Golf, so the obvious question is, "Where's the Bentley?" When his lordship finally calmed down he explained that when he got to the motorway there was a blizzard, so he had to have the windscreen wipers on full, but the one on the drivers side came off, so he stopped the car and was groping around in the snow looking for it, and he found it and put it back on. So far so good, except a couple of miles further on it came off again, and this time it was nowhere to be seen. Now try and picture the situation. Swiss motorway, lots of snow falling, very expensive black Bentley and a very famous pop star hanging out the window while driving so he can wipe the snow off the screen so he can see. Not a very good look at all.

On arrival at Geneva he took the car to the Rolls Royce dealer to get fixed, and it wasn't long after this that I said my final goodbye to a trusty friend. Roger on the other hand said Good F***ing Riddance. I have an equally pathetic driving story when we were in Rio, this time it was the two of us, a convertible and one hell of a lot of rain. Next time might be right to tell you how we put the Cross together from the first ad. onwards. Before I go I have a question for Jacky. Do you remember all those bacon sandwiches we had at the auditions? That's it for now Bye

Crystal

#queen #queen band #the cross #the cross band #roger taylor #john deacon #dominique beyrand #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

[janiedean]

more of the tyrion/sansa mortician/hairdresser saga

cc @meri-vaahtoaa HAVE YOUR EXTRA DOSE OF IT U___U I HOPE IT’S TO YOUR TASTE U__U

sequel to this fic here, warning for... well, an embalming happens offscreen and no one is very sympathetic towards the dear deceased aka littlefinger I guess X°D *drops and crashes*

Thing is, Tyrion had absolutely planned to go back to Sansa Stark’s shop. He had been bracing up to see her again and if he caught himself glancing at his hair in the mirror more than usual, well, can you blame him, since he actually likes it for the first time in his life?

And then he sees her again a whole week after he walked into her shop, at his damned internship, with her mother, because -

“See,” the woman — how did she introduce herself, Catelyn, yes, Catelyn, “my sister should have been here but — she didn’t take her husband’s death that well.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” his boss, Oberyn, says with all the professionally he doesn’t usually have when off the clock.

“Oh, don’t bother,” Catelyn goes on as Sansa notices him standing behind Oberyn and tentatively waves — he waves back —, “I mean, let’s just say that, uh. I… didn’t have a great relationship with him and my husband loathed him, and in between us he poisoned her against the entire family, so it’s not like anyone was that sad about his passing, but anyway. What I meant, if it was for me I’d have just told you that we’d do a closed casket funeral, but my sister is really adamant that it’s not, so I suppose that he’ll need to be embalmed.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Oberyn says.

“I don’t know,” Catelyn replies, “I find it kind of creepy. Anyway, I absolutely don’t want to pay extra for the coffin, so —”

“I think,” Oberyn says, “that maybe I should show you what options you have making sure you’re aware of the cheapest ones, and my apprentice over there can start having a look at the corpse? Actually, Tyrion?”

“Yes?”

“I think you can handle embalming this one corpse, it’s not the kind you have to completely reconstruct from scratch and it could be a good exercise. That good?”

“Uh, of course —”

“Then — Mrs. Stark, if you’d follow me?”

Catelyn does and he’s left alone with Sansa.

“How interesting,” she says, “I had no idea this was where you worked.”

“I didn’t tell you now, did I?”

“No, but — well, they’re kind of — I mean, I wouldn’t want to say friends but we’ve come here for anyone who died in the family? I think, at least. Anyway, honestly, no one except my aunt liked Uncle Peter. You can relax when you work on him.”

“Well,” he laughs nervously, “at least when I come to your shop before my final I’ll have had a lot of practice, thanks to him. But — well. I should be done tomorrow morning at latest, isn’t the wake tomorrow afternoon?”

“Oh, yes,” Sansa says. “I’ll see you then, I suppose.”

Then she winks and goes to join her mother.

Well.

Time to go check on his first corpse, Tyrion thinks, and heads for the embalming room downstairs.

— —

Indeed, Mr. Baelish died of a sudden heart attack, which means that while his face is still half-contorted in a not exactly pleasurable expression, it’s not the kind of body you have to manually reconstruct. He only starts on it the next morning, no point in doing it a day before the actual wake, and he’s done in two hours, early enough to dress the body in the suit his wife sent over — extremely pricey, coming from money Tyrion can see that, but also exceedingly black and he’s not even sure it looks good on the man, but what does he know and what does he care? He’s just placed the eyecaps under the man’s eyelids when someone knocks.

“It’s open,” he says, and — “Sansa?” He blurts as she tiptoes into the room.

“Yeah,” she says, sheepishly, “I asked Mr. Martell if I could come say hi to you. Uh, I see you really pumped him full of carcinogen?”

Tyrion snorts. “Well, yes. Gotten the blood out, got all the right fluid in, made sure to un-set rigor mortis and so on.”

“For what it’s worth,” she says, “it looks like you are cut for this job. Sure, his hair doesn’t have the best cut, but — well. He kind of always looked at me creepy, so I never offered a free cut and I’m not going to start now. Will you be at the wake, just for science?”

“Yeah,” Tyrion nods, “that’s… I mean. I could not be, I’m not an official employee, but.”

“But?”

He figures he might as well go and say it. She did say she was going to put a move on him, didn’t she?

“But,” he says, “I understood you will be and I’d quite like to see you again.”

“Oh,” she smiles, delighted, “then by all means. Do come to the wake. I’m actually looking forward to it, now.”

Then she waves at him and leaves the room.

Tyrion is not going to faint and fall off his damned chair. He does have a dignity.

— —

“Heads up,” Oberyn tells him later, as they ready the room for people to walk inside in half an hour, “I absolutely do forbid actual employees from being unprofessional on the job, but you aren’t an official employee.”

“… Was — why are you telling me this?” Tyrion blurts.

“Because I’ve seen how Miss Stark looks at you and how you look back at her,” he shrugs, “and I certainly won’t begrudge you for being unprofessional, if you choose to be.”

Then he winks, too.

God.

God, has he just said Tyrion could —

He did.

Oh, from the way he’s grinning, it’s obvious he did.

Fuck.

He thinks he needs a moment or fifteen. And he could do with a drink, but — yeah. Not now.

Still —

He has no idea what’s going to happen the moment this wake begins, but he’s actually kind of fucking looking forward to it.

What the hell is his life, he wonders, and then the first people start knocking — early, of course — and he schools his face into a semblance of professionalism.

Or at least he tries to.

— —

“Well,” Sansa says one hour later, “this certainly has been something.”

Considering that her aunt broke down in tears over Mr. Baelish’s casket, then her son also broke out in tears because she was miserable and she was ignoring him, then he started screaming about how much he always hated Mr. Baelish anyway, then the aunt lost her shit at him and Oberyn had to calm her down, then some of Mr. Baelish’s friends were adamant in saying that he certainly had never tried to fuck with not paying his taxes which apparently Ned Stark is absolutely sure of and that turned also into a half-fight and then the aunt started arguing with Mrs. Stark about how the casket was too cheap for such a wonderful man and Tyrion is nowhere near sure it’s over yet…

“It has,” Tyrion says, wishing he could have a beer like most of the guys in this room, but technically he’s on the clock. Now that wouldn’t look very good, if anyone noticed, and honestly, he doesn’t want to get noticed by anyone else. “Also, I hope this doesn’t mean i can’t come get my hair done in three days.”

“Of course,” Sansa smiles, “I’d be delighted to have you. I did have plans, for when you did come.”

“Oh,” Tyrion feigns, “did you?”

“Maybe,” she replies, slowly, looking down at him, “if your employer has a storage room, I could show you some of them?”

“Well,” he says, “I don’t have a storage room, but.” He nods towards the stairs going down.

He’s kind of sure she’ll say no, and of course she wouldn’t, he just asked —

“Actually,” she grins, “lead the way.”

He swallows.

He does.

— —

Two minutes later, he’s sitting on the stool he used during the embalming process and he has his hands on Sansa’s face as she leans down slightly and she crashes her mouth against his, kissing him hard, her fingers grasping at his hair and tugging at it and he groans back into her mouth, his tongue slipping inside it, and she moans and —

“Well,” she says, “I absolutely don’t regret it.”

“Oh, you don’t?”

“You kiss really well,” she replies, and dives in again, her tongue moving against his, curling gently and tracing his teeth before she kisses him harder, and fuck but she knows what she wants and it’s just making him want to tug her closer and so he does and —

“Just so you know,” he breathes when they part, “Oberyn informed me I can be as unprofessional as I like until he’s not paying me for my services.”

“Does it mean we can do this while they fight their way through the wake?” Sansa grins.

“Yeah,” he says, “yeah, we can.”

“Splendid,” she smiles wider, and then her mouth is on his own again and Tyrion isn’t going to give a single fuck about the fact that he just kissed her in the damned embalming room.

He can tell her the cool facts about it later, he supposes, and then proceeds on kissing her again and again and again, ignoring the mess upstairs.

Honestly, if this is how his internship is starting, he thinks he’s going to enjoy this job a lot —

Though not as much as he’s enjoying the moment right now. Not at all.

End.

#sanrion #tyrion lannister #sansa stark #my fic #sansa x tyrion #god it's so fucking hot it took me DAYS to manage this but #*DROPS AND RUNS*

[not-close-to-straight]

I agree with you completely about mcu. I feel totally the same way. Before iw and endgame i watched almost every mcu movies religiously like those movies were just amazing and each new character felt like it's woven so carefully into the mcu, but then they hit us with those endings.. I might be biased af as a Tony stan but endgame is truly traumatic for me. I truly went into the theatre feeling very excited and super happy watching it until nat's scene then i just felt oh ok Nat's dead ok ok they're not gonna kill anyone anymore right? And the ending happened like, if you're gonna hype us, excite us for 12 full years of journey you surely can do better than killing him as a wrap up to his whole story. So yea after endgame i have no more interest in mcu whatsoever. Didn't watch spiderman ffh, wandavision, tfatws and have no plans on watching any of their new releases. I'm just gonna be in fanfic land where everyone lives and everyone is happy :)

It's such a relief to realize so many people feel the same way about this, I honestly thought 2020 had just sucked all the joy of it right from my soul.

And yeah okay, I'll admit I'm biased as a Tony fan, but it wasn't just HIS death that felt cheap to me. I cried harder watching Nat go because it was just.so.fucking.pointless. Like, slight deviation here-- but I legit booo'd in the theater during AOU when shes like "oh I'm a monster" because she can't have kids. Absolutely boo'd and then it made me sick to my stomach to have her sacrifice herself in EG because Clint had a family to get back to. EXCUSE ME? Which one of them spent five years killing POC in some ridiculous vengeance based "my family is gone but you're here because the completely random Blip left you behind so you deserve to die" and WHICH ONE of them spent five years monitoring the entire world and trying to cope with losing half of everyone she loved? HM?? HMMM?

Anyway, yeah. At first glance I loved EG because yay, twelve years and so much emotions etc but on subsequent watches its so clear to me that at no point did they expect to get this far with the MCU with such a dedicated fan base and intricate story lines because half the movie is pointless fan service and the other half is literally "oh shit, we didn't expect people to care about this on a deeper level, what now". I feel like they literally didn't expect people to care about Nat's death or Clint's rampage or Stucky's ridiculously transparent "no homo" moment or how Tony finally got his happiness and then died. They really thought "well that's what's supposed to happen-- the woman dies so Clint becomes a hero. Steve gets the girl. Tony sacrifices himself no matter what. Thor goes off to have fun. Isn't that what you guys wanted?"

And its like, sure, in 2010 that's what we wanted for our heroes (minus Nat dying of course). We wanted Clint to be a badass, we wanted Steve to dance wiht Peggy, we wanted Tony to save the world and for Thor to be able to not feel the weight of Odin's parenting at his shoulders. BUT IN 2019 WE WANT DIFFERENT THINGS and they not only 100% failed to deliver but then decided to keep the stories GOING and yeah, I'm having a hard time mustering up the energy to care.

AND (i'm ranting, I'm sorry, I have a lot of feels about this)-- post EG, alot of the characters and the movies feel... unnecessary.

I realize cramming Spiderman into CACW was literal product placement for his movie, but also, you can remove his movie(s) from the verse and the only thing we miss are a few moments of Tony acting like a dad pre-Morgan. I never saw FFH and I won't see the next one either, zero interest.

Ant Man's story was important for the quantum tunnel thing, right? Great. Why do we need it post EG? Do we need another Captain Marvel? She showed up to rain hell on Thanos and now we're done. Same with Dr. Strange. Same with Guardians of the Galaxy. They introduced all these (for the most part) cool characters and they were important for HOW they wove into the Thanos story but now that the Thanos story is done... we don't need them??

GIVE US NEW STORIES not extensions of the same story that we already feel like is finishing. You called it "EndGame." let it end.

What I DO NEED is a 1980's era MIT sitcom featuring Rhodey and absolute disaster!Tony being roomies and the very beginnings of their friendship. Give me robot building competition hijinks or give me death.

[thotsforvillainrights]

Can we please get a Shigaraki smut where his girl rides and overstims him? ;3

[I sound like a broken record with this so y’all forgive me, but I hope you don’t mind I’m not making the reader specifically a girl so everyone can insert themselves into it. Also happy late B-Day Shiggs, and I’m sorry anon this ask was trapped in the void so long!!!]

~Satiation~

-Tomura Shigaraki smut-

Satiation- to satisfy (a need, a desire, etc.) fully or to excess

You glared at the back of his head for at least 20 minutes now as you tried not to grind your teeth in annoyance. If looks could kill then he would be six feet under right about now. The blue haired boy clicked furiously away at his mouse and keyboard as the graphics of the game flashed pretty colors in front of him. Usually you didn’t mind him playing games at all. In fact, you sometimes enjoyed watching him play and even playing yourself too! However, you did have boundaries from time to time. One of those boundaries included him not binge playing the way he used to when you two first started to date. It wasn’t because you needed the attention desperately, no! It was because he rarely ate, slept, or even drank anything when he fell into these spirals. He would only get up in short bursts to use the bathroom and that was rare as well. His diet consisted of cheap chips and carbonated drinks. Worst of all, there was this weird smell that would develop if he didn’t go bathe after a while. You were angry because you were worried about him taking care of himself. There was no way in hell you’d let him fall back down this pit again.

You sighed and carefully walked up behind him. Out of decency you let him finish a match BEFORE you reached down and snatched his headphones from his head. “Y/N what the Hell?! Give those back you fucking nuisance! Hurry up, it’s prime time right now and I fucking need this rank up reward!” You shifted them behind your back and rushed to the bed. He followed behind you and a wrestling match ensued. He got his headphones back and you got just what you wanted...a great position on top of him, straddling his hips and gripping his wrist above his head. He let go of the headphones and deadpanned at you. Of course he could easily get out of your grasp but the way you pressed yourself onto him had distracted him from the matter at hand. “Tomura can’t you take a break or something? I feel like things are getting bad again yknow? I just don’t want to see you get back to the way you were before. Especially not with you having done so well for so long.” He sighed and rolled his eyes at you. “Relax dumbass, I’m not going back to that if it’s what you were thinking. I’m only grinding so hard because there’s a huge tournament online right now and I need the rewards from ranking up, that’s all. I mean I could just buy them but that’s for lazy pussies who don’t work hard at the game, and people that are impatient with the outcome.” Despite him insulting you with his words, he still moved his arms from your hold and moved to gently stroke the side of your face. Red eyes sparkled with such adoration for you and it honestly made you smile. “You promise me then?”

“Yeah, now please get the fuck off of me. It’s annoying yknow.” He lied completely. You know exactly how he felt right now by the way his cock was threatening to rise within those sweatpants of his. You took the opportunity to run your hands smoothly underneath his shirts and tweak his nipples. He sucked in air from between his teeth and began squirming beneath you a bit. “Why don’t you take a break from the game huh?” You stood up and began rustling around the contents of the bedside table bottom drawer, in search of a condom. “Pshhh-” He spoke up in false annoyance. “I’ll take your little break if you do all the work.” It was his way of asking you to take control without having to ask for it completely. “Oh I’ll take control alright...” The way you smirked at him devilishly as you slipped the condom on was really just icing on top of the cake. And when you slipped him all the way in without a single pause in between??? Oh it was getting harder and harder to keep up that fake ‘I don’t care’ attitude he was exhibiting. “fuck...” You smiled and gripped his chest as you bounced on him ever so sweetly. “You can say it louder if you want.” You teased him and he groaned. A bit faster, a bit harder...”Fuck...FUCK I...!!!” He came with small shivers running down his spine and his hands gripping the sheets and nearly decaying them had he not focused on finger placement. You admired the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and the way his chest rose and fell as he tried to gather his breath. “Fuck~” After gathering himself he figured it was time to get up and partake in a little aftercare. His plan was to treat you with a nice bath or maybe just a trip to your local late night fast food spot for a bunch of chicken nuggets and a large drink to share between you two. 

He could be romantic when he tried lol. 

But his ideas/brainstorming were cut short when you started to bounce again. “Y/N? Y/N fuck?! I already came I...I ugh?!” He was definitely confused but who would care about that when you were literally milking his cock right now? It was a strange feeling for him. Euphotic of course, but a little painful. Lucky for him, pain was a staple in your bedroom sessions so this was nothing to him. If anything, he was on the horizon of cumming again. His head was left swirling, and by now he had lost all his confident behavior in place of desperation. His toes were curling and he was whining as he gripped away at the sheets. “OH GOD Y/N!” Again he was weak for you but you were nowhere near finished with him by now. You were a saint for waiting for him to gather himself, but you were a demon for beginning to fuck him yet again. “Y/N!?” It was about the last time he uttered your name in complete pleasure and shock. Now he couldn’t even form words. He was a babbling mess, drool running from the side of his mouth and his knuckles turning white from gripping the blankets below him His little desperate whines from the beginning were now full on strings of moaning and slight begging when he managed to form a few words under the impact of your touch. He was intoxicated on you, overstimulated, and weak at the knees. You really could’ve gone a fourth time but now you needed to chase your own finish. By the time he came again, you caught up to him and let yourself fall into his chest/the crook of his neck. 

You were both nasty, sweaty messes tangled up in each other. A shower would be needed soon but for now you were focused on catching your breath and slowing the heartbeat out of your chests. He held onto you for dear life and his cock stayed out inside of you until he could regain his though process. “You’re a fucking menace you know that?” He mumbled as he stroked the side of your face gently. “Yeah, but so are you.” He smirked and pulled you into a closer hug. It wouldn’t hurt to stay for a little while. Time always seemed to stop with you anyhow.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

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#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #shigiraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #lov #league of villains #smut