#its why i really like professors who are a little over-the-top and silly about their material. cuz it really is infectious

[carelessflower]

top 10 atrocious shtv plotline

let me preface by saying i do not hate shadowhunters. it camp demon fighting hot people in leather with not enough lighting and candles as regular guest stars. this list is my personal opinion, a little something something rage filled silly little rants of my favorite show and its clown moment. picture this as the inner monologue of the lead in an indie romcom who speaks in metaphors and has a letterbox account. so sit back, grab your set and stele because you will need so much iratze for your sanity.

content warning: this rant will touch upon topics such as mental health, addiction, attempted suicide and incest.

10. magnus lost his magic

magnus is magnificent in everything, so that is why this plotline disappointed me. it has so much potential and they end up doing the bare minimum. there's no way magnus fricking bane has no one to rely on when he lost his magic besides alec. no fricking way. we should have gotten magnus to work out alec's deal with asmodeus by himself. i'm also of the opinion that magnus should be the one to figure out a way to get his magic back (there are lots of good fics exploring this, i recommend you check it out) it end up in this position cause overall it a good and interesting premise and magnus outsmarting his father and using his portal (something that magnus invented) to defeat him is a good conclusion

9. heidi took over dumort and planned to dominate the shadoworld

i mean this happened in the book, but it was given way way more screen time than necessary in the show. please dont tell me a newly born vampire is suddenly a master manipulator and leader and makes every vampire bend to her will. you're trying to be serious not comedy shtv. and how about we give all of heidi screen time to flesh out clary and magnus plotline in S3B more?? or idk, give the lightwood trio A PLOTLINE this season besides being the supporting partner

8. jordan redemption arc

he's an abuser. he's an abuser. HE IS AN ABUSER. we don't need him sobbing and crying and then ‘dying’ in front of maia. i loathe how for a second i thought they gonna make maia go back together with jordan again. the only good thing come out of it is maia getting somewhat closure, and i used that term loosely

7. the owl

jace spent S3A being mind controlled by lilith, struggling, begging to be killed, being mind control again, then free. he doesn't have a single moment after all that bullshit to process because oh we need the plot to move along and another fresh trauma has arrived at the jace station. and oh remember the soul sword thing??? when there's an attempt to write the payoff of jace unintentionally killing a bunch of people? i dont know about you but the show writers sure do not. the rules and influence of lilith over jace is so confusing it is ridiculously hilarious

6. alec and jace's parabatai bond

i've already done a recap of all the wonderful moments of jace parabatai career so i will keep this really simple. picture the parabatai bond as group final assessment. alec is pulling all-nighter, groupchat urging to finish tasks on time, one on one meetings with professor for feedback, two hours finalizing and fixing the final product. jace is "why do i have to do so much" and submitting work late two hours that don't pass the plagiarize check

5. team evil (evil clary + S3B jonathan)

i would like to remind you she turns fully evil in episode 18 and is cured of it in episode 20. they build this evil plotline up through clary burning her hand, snapping at simon once and losing it at aline (who btw i believe is justified in her rage how many people sebastian/jonathan/ginger incest bread have killed) clary turning evil means she now will sexily whisper her line, wear tighter/revealing dress and stare at people with smoldering eyes. because of course, evil female characters are like that. i also need writers for that clace scene in the club when jace's on seelie drug to answer for their crime against my sanity

jonathan S3B is bad. and not even the fun kind. when you compare this character to the one in S2B, he got clear on every possible aspect i almost shed a tear. he, like evil clary, has so much potential. but the way the writing goes makes him just hilariously pathetic. yes i am in fact referring to him yelling 'YOU WILL NEVER LOVE ME' at clary and then flying away in his devil cosplay

4. merlion getting taken to the silent brothers

alec is shit for blindly following the clave's order, jace betrays his parabatai and along with izzy and clary conducts a stupid plan that can create an all-out war and involves two of the downworlder leaders in all that. also, magnus steal alec stele aka the acting head stele…because bad decision is infectious in this episode. considering how serious they’re trying to make the political aspect of the show to be, the fact that this exists. literally insane. this whole plotline is to highlight how clary is the hero who stands up for justice and morals and all of that when she the one contributing the least. she just stands around lets everyone do stuff for her and they're trying to convince us she's the hero. then she and jace fuck off to another dimension after roping people into their mess because that is what a good hero does.

that screencap. she said that surrounding by downworlders. her kendall jenner pepsi world peace era

3. alec's mental health

alec try to jump off that balcony and the only person they show having any concern over it is magnus in the next episode. oh no no, not even in that lightwood family talk in the same episode of the balcony thing, with you know, his mom and his parabatai, not a word. and the only one who says anything related to it is clary of all people. im convinced the whole alec killing off jocelyn is for alec to feel guilty and then ease him into a friendship with clary because this is no way to handle this type of story there is no way. and it is not like they say oh well, here's the end of this. because they include shots of alec pinching his hands at that hospital scene. what was the reason? has alec not had enough on his plate already? friendly reminder, iris's spell at that party caused people to project their insecurities and everyone was fighting each other. and who does alec blame? who does he fight? who he thinks is worthless of living and no one will miss? himself. do they drop this storyline faster than clace romance? yes!

2. clace

ah, instant love that makes no sense because we are supposed to believe it is the way it is. the writers keep telling us there is nothing compared to their love but doesn't show us SHIT when it comes to that. don't believe me? oh, okay, the number of dates that they have before crusty lord of the lifetime valentine morgenshit breaks the fake sibling news is that time when jace stands and watches clary get encanto and tough inappropriately by a vampire and their rendezvous with fake dad. then in S2A they mostly interact when clary is in trouble and needs jace help. clary dates the first person she knows already has feeling for her, jace goes around very around. they don't bond or try to talk or interact besides jace constantly looking sulkily at clary and simon. then 2x14 it all reveals she loves jace she desires jace no one for her but jace. and i totally forgot jace's confession via the soul sword about loving clary, not the way you would love a sister and all that. their first date as an again couple is 3x02…the love confession is ridiculous because he's saying all these things despite us literally never seeing that on screen. they bonk when clary still links with her psychopath brother, that whole scene alone should pay for my therapy. we kept being told they are in love, but we are never shown that. hey, maybe some advice. slapping romantic music over a scene will not make the scene romantic, you actually need to write it too. this relationship goes nowhere because itself and the two characters inside it doesn't change. it's always clary wants something so jace push everyone and everything under the solar system out of the way to give it to her. this wouldn't be a problem if, yk, it is only in the first season and they have character development. but let me remind you S3B they summon lilith back to earth despite magnus losing his magic to help defeat her (didn't make it to this list but a very strong honorary mention) with the worst possible plan. relying on a guy simon knew for less than the time clary and jace spent thinking through their plan. it like you are asking for him to betray you

aldetree izzy raphael and yinfen 

one of the only major plotlines izzy has. and it's this. because of course this addict seeks a provider then both fall in love and the provider becomes addict again is super duper appropriate to happen to these two. two of the poc characters who are prominent in the show. one of the few female characters. of course very splendid decisions right there. and at the end of the series izzy gets together with someone who can make her relapse again. all because this storyline that could have been cut off and replaced with something more decent. but nope! sexily blood drinking time!

tag list: @dustandducks @cityofdownwardspirals @magnus-the-maqnificent @onetimetwotimesthreetimess @wildesummerchild @cam-ryt @khaleesiofalicante @idk-i-just-really-like-tsc

#shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #jace herondale #clary fray #isabelle lightwood #jonathan morgenstern #anti show jace #anti shtv jace #anti show clace

[amygdalae]

in school when youre a kid theres a lot more like. visual and tactile learning as part of class, and bright colors n such to keep children’s brains engaged with the material

and then when you grow up its much drier and you're (sorta understandably) expected to have more self-discipline and drive. so the importance of keeping students engaged in that way loses priority.

but dude real talk all that visual and tactile learning was actually one of the things that worked for me lol. like im smart and i know i can understand complex material but i struggle with my attention span in a way that most ppl are expected to have grown out of. like, not to sound like a child but sometimes i miss all the fun bells and whistles that used to accompany education? if that makes sense?

#ive definitely talked abt this before but i think abt it sometimes #i miss the passion and enthusiasm #its why i really like professors who are a little over-the-top and silly about their material. cuz it really is infectious #my physical geography prof. did a lot of video lecture where she drew lil diagrams of the various processes #and drawing along with them in my notes was so hugely helpful for me like suddenly i was able to remember and parse the material #cuz it was being presented in a way that works for me! #if feel like this just ties into the ongoing problem abt how every1 has different ways they learn the best #but most educational environments cant account for everyones different style of best absorbing info

[onceuponabarnes]

Green-Eyed

summary \\ the reader gets a little jealous over professor!bucky speaking to another teacher in the department 

word count \\ 1.4k

warnings \\ age gap relationship, professor and student relationship, reader is over 18 in this, implied smut, implied sexual content

part one        part two

You didn’t notice at first, too enthralled in your conversation with Wanda to see what was happening. It wasn’t until a classmate had passed a sly comment that you realised. “I think Professor Barnes has a girlfriend,” a girl behind you drawled, voice all high pitched and giggly.

Your eyes darted down to the front of the classroom, taking in the sight before you. Bucky was leant against his desk chatting to another teacher that you’d seen around the humanities department before. You could tell he wasn’t interested in her like that, the corner of his lip wasn’t pulled between his teeth absentmindedly, fingers weren’t tapping against his thigh or reaching out to touch her like he did with you.

“You okay?” Wanda asked from beside you, eyes flickering between the exchange at the front of the classroom and the rising rage evident on your face.

“Peachy,” you huffed, slumping down in your seat.

“You know he wouldn’t…” Wanda trailed off, the both of you watching as Bucky tipped his head back in joyous laughter, reaching over to push the teacher’s side playfully. “He wouldn’t. You know that,” Wanda affirmed.

“I know, I just…” you pouted, balling the sleeves of your (Bucky’s) sweater in your hands so you could scrub over your face. “No one knows but you and maybe one of James’ friends. I know he wouldn’t and you know he wouldn’t but that bitch down there doesn’t know that he’s mine.”

Before Wanda could reply, Bucky pulled out his phone to check the time before apologetically sending the other teacher on her way. She tried to lean over, probably spouting some shit about wanting to see the time for herself, when Bucky snatched the phone back.

“What was that all about?” Wanda asked you, watching as Bucky hurriedly tucked his phone away into his desk.

“His home screen is… indecent,” you smirked, knowing fine well that behind James’ innocent lockscreen was a photo of you straddling his thighs in the sexy black lace two piece he’d bought on Valentine’s Day.

As you shut your computer off after class, packing your things away, the teacher from before came waltzing back into the classroom. 

“Awh, it’s so cute,” the girl from earlier practically squealed with her friends, “they miss each other!”

You rolled your eyes, grumbling under your breath as you shoved things into your bag with a newfound force. Wanda looked on with worried eyes, knowing that nothing she could say would help the jealous streak that was rearing its ugly head.

You hung back, leaving at the back of the class just like after every lecture, expecting Bucky to call for you as you passed his desk. His attention never left the conversation with the other teacher and you didn’t bother sticking around long enough to try and overhear what it was about.

You entered James’ class the next day with a face of thunder. You’d ignored his calls the night before and responded to his messages as minimally as possible. Maybe you were being petty, but maybe your boyfriend shouldn’t flirt with someone he can be in a public relationship with right in front of you.

“Isn’t this getting a bit silly?” Wanda asked you after she’d caught Bucky looking at you with sad puppy-dog eyes for the 5th time in as many minutes.

“Maybe?” you shrugged. “Wasn’t it getting a bit silly when he ignored me for that geography bitch? He doesn’t even like geography, stupid maps,” you grumbled.

“Babe…” Wanda sighed heavily, leaning against you.

“Okay, fine, fine!” you huffed, sinking down into your seat. “I’m not apologising to him,” you argued.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Wanda chuckled.

“He can apologise to me,” you decided firmly.

After class, Bucky tried to catch you. He was a fraction of a second away from calling your name when the same geography teacher came swanning in through the door amongst the departing students. “Professor Barnes!” she gushed, as though she hadn’t just walked into a room with his name emblazoned across the door.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and let out a scoff as you walked past his desk and straight towards the door. James was watching after you, eyes begging you to turn around and come rescue him from whatever the woman in front of him was going on about.

“I’m really sorry…” he trailed off, her name slipping his mind.

“Oh, it’s Dot, you silly billy,” she giggled.

“I’m really sorry, Dot, but I have plans tonight. Have a good weekend. See you next week maybe at the faculty meeting. Bye!” Bucky rushed out, grabbing his briefcase and all but sprinting for the door.

please come over? i miss you x

As soon as you’d received the text from James, you were practically falling out of the dorm room door with Wanda hollering after you. Something about using protection. Before you knew it, you were standing on the doorstep of James’ townhouse, knocking hesitantly before sending him a text to let him know that you’d just knocked on his door.

“What’s with the text?” he asked as soon as he opened the door.

“Wanted you to know I was here,” you shrugged, stepping past James and into the hallway. You kicked off your shoes before wandering into the living room and perching yourself on the couch.

“Look, doll…” he sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. She wouldn’t leave me be.”

“I know,” you whispered, pulling your legs up to your chest, pressing your feet into the cushion below you.

“What’s up, sweet girl?” Bucky asked, reaching a hand out to you. You immediately leaned into his touch, letting his palm cup your cheek and angle your face towards him.

“No one knows that you’re mine,” you pouted, turning your eyes away from him.

“And no one knows that you’re mine,” he retaliated.

“But I don’t flirt with stupid fucking geography teachers right in front of you, do I? Huh?” you snapped, wrenching your face out of his hold.

“Baby,” Bucky practically whined at the loss of contact. Before you could even register what was going on, Bucky had scooped you up into his arms and deposited you on his lap so you were straddling his thighs. “I wasn’t flirting,” he told you.

“Sure looked like it,” you grumbled, finding it hard to keep up the annoyed facade as Bucky’s fingers painted delicate pictures on your sides.

“Only one girl I wanna flirt with in that classroom,” he whispered as he angled his face closer to yours. “Besides,” he hummed, “it’s only you who’s gonna be screaming my name this weekend.”

The next time the geography teacher invited herself into Bucky’s classroom, she was in for quite the shock. Bucky’s neck was decorated in a mirage of abstract bruises, all differing in their tones and saturation. The shirt he’d worn that day had the top button popped, too, allowing for the scratches and accompanying bruises on his chest and the hollow of his throat to have their pride of place, as well.

“Professor Barnes, I’d hoped to hear from you this weekend,” the teacher whined, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

James turned away from his desk at the sound of her voice, giving her the perfect view of your handy work. You watched as her face dropped, fumbling over her words as she tried to respond to whatever Bucky had said to her.

“Everything okay, Dot?” Bucky asked, all happy smiles and feigned ignorance.

“Y-yeah,” she forced out, unable to tear her eyes away from his neck and throat. “I didn’t realise you were… involved,” she choked.

“Oh, yeah!” he grinned, smile bright and genuine. “Very clever woman, my girl. Bet you’d love to meet her. I’ll have to bring her to the next staff party,” he goaded.

You were almost beside yourself, fighting to keep your laughter at bay as the teacher stumbled over her words once more, and then her feet as she tried to escape the classroom as quickly as possible.

“You happy now?” Wanda asked with an affectionate eye roll. Bucky sent you a wink as he shut the door behind the teacher, tongue catching between his teeth in that way that it did that drove you absolutely wild.

“Never better.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #professor!bucky barnes #professor bucky au

[pinkoptics]

AU-gust 2021 Prompts

2. Exotic Vacation

@augustwritingchallenge

Cherik. Modern AU. Still have powers. Mutant Husbands on vacation. Silliness. This is pure silliness. I don’t even know guys. 🤷🏼‍♀️

892 words

*

“It’s staring at me.”

“It’s not staring at you.”

“It’s staring at me.”

“It’s not staring at you.”

“It is. It’s staring at me.”

Charles put down his book and looked directly, for the first time, at the ‘starer’ in question. Then, he looked sideways at the ‘staree’. “Erik, it’s not staring at you.” He picked his book back up, eyes searching for the line he’d left off on.

“You’re not taking this seriously. It’s plotting. It’s plotting our demise right at this very moment.”

Charles sighed, internally, and placed his bookmark securely in the crease, abandoning the adventures of wizards and elves for another time.

Erik was still talking. “It’s four beady little eyes are boring into my soul. It’s waiting for us to go to sleep. Then we will meet our venomous ends.” He was dead serious.

“More likely eight.”

“What?”

“More likely eight eyes. Most spiders have eight.”

This time it was Erik who looked sideways at him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you for that, Professor Xavier. How does this help us?”

“I’m a geneticist, not an arachnologist.”

“Only you would know that word.”

“Entomologist, then?”

“Only you would know that word too.”

“Bug scientist?”

“Better.”

“Regardless of my qualifications or lack thereof, I hardly know what you expect me to do about it.”

Erik’s brow creased more deeply than it already was. Clearly, he didn’t know either. The spider in question was large, at least the size of his palm, fuzzy. The sort you’d never find in the continental United States. Only tropical places, like this one, and maybe Australia. Not one you could easily smoosh under your shoe or place a cup over and release back into the wild.

“Besides, it means us no harm.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “You never think anyone means us any harm no matter how many times humans prove otherwise.”

Charles thought about taking the bait. A political argument was likely to distract his husband from the spider idly hanging out in the top corner of the room. However… he’d also just learned that the famed agitator and rebel with a cause, otherwise known as Magneto, was afraid of spiders. There was no way he wasn’t going to have fun with that. He adopted his most obnoxiously arrogant, professorial tone. “I know for a fact it means us no harm.”

“Enlighten me.”

Charles sighed deeply, as if being put upon by someone deeply stupid. “My mutation is…”

“Telep— no, no. You are not suggesting that you can read that spider’s mind.”

“That’s precisely what I’m suggesting.”

“I would think, in all the years we’ve known each other, that I would have noticed if you could read animal minds.”

“Arachnid minds— .”

Erik growled.

“ —Also, he’s rather wondering why it is you’re staring so intently at him, if you must know.”

Erik pounced. On Charles, not the spider. His copy of Fellowship of the Ring skidded off the bed and onto the floor. Despite the loud bang it produced, the spider remained nonplussed and unmoving.

“You’re not serious.”

“While you’ve been falsely accusing him of murderous thoughts, he’s been contemplating a making a meal of the large frogs that have been hopping in and out of here anytime we open the door.”

The look of sheer horror on Erik’s face was a thing of beauty. “You take that back.”

“A scientific fact?”

“I don’t accept it. I will not be able to sleep tonight if I accept it. I will not be able to fuck you senseless in this bed tonight if I accept it.”

It was Charles’ turn to look horrified.

“Well then. It’s docile, it spins pretty webs to catch nothing larger than teeny flies and wishes us a very, very pleasant evening.”

Erik dropped his head and groaned. “If there is anything I do know it’s that this spider does not care about our sex life, this is the most ridiculous conversation we’ve ever had, and if you could read it’s mind, you could convince it to go away.”

The spider, who had not moved even one of its eight legs for more than 30 minutes, began scuttling in the direction of the door that opened to the ocean vista behind it.

“Shall I let the little fellow out?”

Erik moved his head from where it was buried in Charles’ shoulder and looked back.

“Oh no. No no no. This is a coincidence. This is a fucking coincidence. You are absolutely not controlling that spider.”

Charles grinned, kissed Erik’s cheek, gently shoved him off and made his way to the door. He slid it open with a slight flourish and the spider skittered out. Charles stuck his head into the evening air and gave a little wave. “Goodbye Arnold.”

“I hate you.”

Charles closed the door behind him. “There, darling, you’re safe now. No more big, scary spiders.”

“I really hate you.” Erik flopped back and buried his head under a pillow.

“Is that so?”

Charles slid back into the bed and proceeded to prove, in several different ways, why Erik did not hate him, not even a little.

At least, not until months later, vacation long over and securely back home in New York City, when a photo of a spider who looked very much like Arnold the Arachnid somehow found its way into Erik’s sock drawer.

#cherik #cherik fan fic #cherik fanfic #augustwritingchallenge #au_gust #pinkoptics fic

[smoochkooks]

—chapter one: the beginning of an end

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: loving jeon jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

previous || next

You’re positive your favourite sound in the whole world is the rhythmic, repetitive sound of your fingers tapping on the keyboard.

Everyone has a different approach when it comes to coping with stress and anxiety. Some people drink away their unwanted emotions, some drown themselves in work, some watch yet another, mediocre Netflix show. But your solution, your little panacea has always been writing.

You’re not the best when it comes to expressing your true feelings. You can struggle with saying ‘I love you’ to your mother and then write a long, affectionate letter for her birthday that makes her eyes turn glossy. You may stutter and tumble on your own words while trying to order coffee and then complete academic essays with ease.  

Whenever you feel like you’re overwhelmed, boiled up with mixed emotions, you do exactly what your school counselor told you many years ago: you let it out. She never mentioned any specifics, simply encouraging you to find your own way. And that’s exactly what you did – you picked it up yourself. First, it was writing a diary. No less than two weeks into it, you got bored. Turns out describing in detail every single mundane day of your life was never your forté. You threw away your old notebook, bought a new one and decided to write there whenever you felt like you really wanted to, not out of obligation.  

And you continue to do so, these days you opt for a use of modern technology often. You open your laptop and pour your feelings onto a digital sheet of paper. It’s cathartic, in a way. Getting rid of what you feel like is weighing you down.  

Jungkook however, your dearest best friend, has always been on the other side of the spectrum. Loud, obnoxious, a life and soul of the party who happened to miraculously befriend the most quiet introvert in class. Sometimes you still wonder how your friendship has managed to survive almost twenty years. You’re two polar opposites. Fire and water. Storm and chilly breeze. A confession screamed in the middle of the night and handwritten love letter.  

You’re a dichotomy. Made of the same atoms, pulling in and pulling away. And if the phrase ‘opposites attract’ held any significance, maybe you would’ve ended up together. But in your case, it’s yet another platitude. Something that seems to work out only in books and movies. Because, if that was true, he would never fell in love with a female version of him, just graced with a sprinkle of pure sweetenes Jungkook sometimes lacks.

Soojin is everything you will never be. Polite, outgoing, sociable and so likeable you hate yourself for despising her. Truthfully, there’s nothing bad you could say about her. No wonder he’s fallen head over heels for her, not you.

What’s there to love about you, if you willing chose to pin for a boy that’s so out of your league? It’s actually hilarious to even dream about him returning your feelings.

You stare at the screen with half-lidded eyes. The clock reads quarter past midnight, letters start to blur into nothingness. Yet another chapter of your miserable life is completed as you save the document and slam your laptop shut. You don’t bother to shower or take off your clothes. Sleepiness hits you right when you close your eyes.  

You dream of wedding halls and never spoken love confessions.

You read once on Twitter that being an adult means checking your e-mail as a part of your morning social media routine and since then, you haven’t quite related to anything more in your life.  

At the very top of your inbox there’s yet another e-mail from your Creative Writing proffesor, Kim Namjoon. He’s a very stubborn man, you decide, as you scroll through the contents of his message. He still wants you to consider what he told you a few days ago after class, it seems.  

“Miss ___? Can I talk to you for a second?” 

“Sure.” you replied and awkwardly walked up to his podium.  

You might have been madly (and miserablely) in love with your best friend, but Kim Namjoon has never failed to make you feel like a silly teenager with a crush on her older teacher. To say Kim Namjoon was intimidating was an misunderstanding. His presence was thoroughly electrifying. You remembered a very disappointed sigh the girl sitting next you let out when she noticed a ring on his right hand. You couldn’t judge her. His wife had scored probably the finest man on this damn planet.  

“I read your latest assignment and I must say, your novelette was outstanding as always. Dare I say the best among others,” Namjoon said. You bowed your head in acknowledgement, praying he wouldn’t notice your rose-colored cheeks. “Regarding that, I actually have a proposition for you.”  

At that, your eyes widened. “What kind of proposition, sir?” you asked.  

He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to you. It was a flyer, you realised, and read it through quickly. VARIETÉ Publishing was organising an annual contest for young poets, which you had heard about before. Your English Literature proffesor mentioned it during her lecture a week ago. However, poetry had never been your strong suit. As much as you enjoyed reading it, you weren’t really fond of creating your own poems. So why did Kim Namjoon decide to tell you about this all of a sudden?

“I know what you might be thinking right now, but I’m not actually encouraging you to take part in this competition,” As he smiled, two dimples appeared on each side of his mouth. “Do you know anything about VARIETÉ Publishing?”  

Slightly confused, you gave him a nod. “It’s one if the biggest publishing companies in the country.” 

“That’s very much true,” Namjoon agreed. “VARIETÉ's vice-chairman, Lee Jongi, is actually my old friend. We used to study together here, at this university. When I chose a teaching career, he got a job in a foreign publishing company, climbed up the ladder until the very top and now he’s vice-chairman and I’m a simple college professor,” He chuckled. You were too stunned to form a coherent response let alone laugh along with him. Lee Jongi and Kim Namjoon being buddies? It was a small world, after all. “Jongi has always been very fond of young, aspiring writers. When I discover a student with huge potential, I send him their works. If he finds them interesting enough, he might even take a risk and propose a publishing deal. This doesn’t happen quite often, but I want you to know that you have a pretty big chance to impress him.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed because holy fucking shit, did he just say he can help you publish your first book?  

“I don’t know what to say, sir. I’m shocked.” you responded truthfully. You had heard people complimenting your skills before but this was extraordinary. “Let me just process all of this: you know personally VARIETÉ'S vice-chairman and you want to show him my works?” Even said out loud, it still sounded surreal to you.  

“Correct. But of course, I won’t do anything without your consent.” Namjoon said. “That novelette you sent me recently was amazing. I’d love to show it to Lee Jongi one day.”

The task was to incorporate a hidden, symbolic message into a story. You decided to use your favorite flowers, magnolias, and its meaning. They represent eternity, because once they bloom they will continue to bloom for a long time. In your story, a girl gave her best friend magnolia's seeds, wishing her love for him to be everlasting. A day later, she received a pack of seeds from the boy as well. She happily planted them in her garden and when they bloomed, she discovered they were yellow tulips. A symbol of love that will never be reciprocated.

“You make people feel things with your words, ___, and that’s a very rare gift,” You heard Namjoon add. “Promise me you’ll consider my proposition.”  

There was thousand thoughts per hour running in your head, but you gave him a curt nod. “I’ll think about it.”  

As you’re staring now at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, you think about the girl whose only dream was to be loved by her best friend. Maybe it’s finally time for you to move on. Bury the past and plant a seed of new life. Because, loving Jeon Jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

With shaky hands, you start writing a response to your proffesor.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #an ode to a broken heart

[harrysweasleys]

save me a dance // n.l.

summary: Hi!! Could I please request a Neville x Slytherin! Reader? She has a kind soul and became friends with Hermione (who’s the only person that knows about her crush on Neville), but she kept her distance because she knew about what happened to his parents. She goes to the Yule ball with another Slytherin that eventually ditched her, so she sneaks into the kitchens and hangs out with house elves until Neville comes by (knowing that she always hung out with them when she felt sad) and he confesses ^^

warnings: very brief mention of unwanted sexual advances if you squint, mentions of food

word count: 5k

a/n: my first neville fic!!! i’m so excited for you all to read it, i had so much fun writing it :)

[i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other platform]

For what felt like the hundredth time, you woke up to the same view; your Yule Ball dress hanging loosely over the four poster bed, the sunlight streaming through the fabric and onto your chunky bed sheets.

The dress was quite stunning, but Godric, did you dread wearing it. You didn’t exactly feel like dancing the night away alongside some Slytherin bloke while you looked around at all the happy couples, wishing ever so desperately that that could have been you. That you could be the one dancing the night away with the person who had captured your heart effortlessly.

Unfortunately, that plan hadn’t exactly fallen into place. Hermione had done her best to help you out in getting him to ask you, but you ended up being put on the spot when a Slytherin boy named Jasper had asked you during Transfigurations. So, you had said yes, but deep down, that regret was starting to multiply by the second.

You let out a groan, tossed your head back against the pillow, and lifted the warm comforter off of your body. The fireplace in the centre of the room was still crackling away, but within the stone walls of the castle, the cold seemed to never fully fade.

So you threw on your house sweater, your scarf, robe, and a pair of trousers, before heading down to start the day. The snow was accumulating rather quickly outside as Christmas drew nearer, rendering you quite glad that you brought your scarf.

“At least you’re prepared,” Hermione mumbled as the two of you made your way to Divinations, “It’s always freezing in Professor Trewlaney’s room! Oh, how I wish I could have brought mine. Rather silly of me.”

You chuckled, keeping your eyes on the long winding staircase as you responded to her, “Not to worry, I’m sure Ron has a sweater you can borrow.”

Though you weren’t facing her, you could practically feel her eye roll as she scoffed, “Very funny. Such a clever idea. You really are filled with those.”

“I’m just saying,” you turned back to face her quickly before pulling down the ladder to the Divination classroom, “I’m sure he’d think you look amazing in it. Isn’t that what guys like? When their girlfriends wear their clothing?”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” she shushed you as you climbed up, “Be quiet!”

You apologized with a laugh as you climbed into the classroom and made your way to your usual seat at the front by the window, Hermione coming over to join you. Harry and Ron were seated not too far away, but that didn’t really matter to you. From across the class, you spotted Neville.

He was accompanied by Seamus — who seemed quite interested in the tablecloth at the moment — but you so wished that you could be the one sitting across from him.

His vest hung loosely against his body and his dark hair was littering his forehead, eyes scrunched shut as he let out a yawn. As he opened them, you noticed they darted in your direction before snapping away.

You felt a frown form on your lips. Why did he look away so fast? Instinctively, you raised a hand to the top of your head to check if there was anything in your hair.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked as she dug through her bag, placing the heavy Divinations book on top of the circular table. The book, with its golden lettering, seemed to twinkle under the pink hues of the morning sky.

You shrugged, “Nothing.”

Her eyes followed to where you had previously been looking, and she let out a sigh, “Relax. You look wonderful. There’s nothing to fix.”

You sulked back into your chair, “Hermione, he asked Ginny to the ball. Don’t try to continue your matchmaking.”

She leaned forward on the table, pushing her thick hair behind her shoulder, “Doesn’t mean you don’t stand a chance. Look, I like Ginny, but maybe they’re going as friends. Like you and Jasper.”

“I think Jasper has more than friendship on his mind,” you muttered under your breath, thinking back to the way his hands lingered on your lower back a little too long after you agreed to be his date.

She gave you a sympathetic glance, opening her mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by Trewlaney announcing her presence. The class began shortly after, and you spent the time reading Hermione’s palm and deciphering what your own dreams meant.

According to the textbook, you were going to stumble upon a lot of money as well as possibly fall down a sewer within the next week. Nothing new, really. It was better than Harry’s, who once again, was told he was doomed for death in the coming months.

As the class ended, you stuffed the books and parchment into your backpack and thanked Trelawney for the lesson, following Hermione out of the room. As you made your way to the ladder, you spotted a little red ball on the ground.

You crouched to pick it up, immediately recognizing it as Neville’s remembrall. How oddly convenient that it land right at your feet.

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered as you turned to hand it to him, fingers brushing against his as you placed it in his palm, “This thing likes to try and escape.”

You grinned at him, “You should keep it safe in your dorm.” You tried your best to keep your voice steady as you spoke to him, which was odd, really. Why did you always become so nervous around Neville, who was one of the shyest, kindest people you’d ever met? Crushes were quite strange.

He gave you a small smile and a shrug, “I like to carry it on me. It’s from my nan. I don’t want to leave it behind.”

Your chest felt like it was going to swell at his words, “That’s really sweet. I’m sure she appreciates that you care for it so much.”

As you turned back to face the ladder, Hermione gave you a quick wink and a thumbs up before darting away with Harry and Ron, clearly insinuating that you should walk with Neville. You mentally scolded her before making your way to it, Neville not far behind.

“She does,” he said, fondness clear in his voice, “It’s not like I get anything from my parents, so I cherish anything I get from my family in general.”

Your heart sunk in your chest. Neville had always been very closed off when talking about his family — especially his parents — so the way he mentioned them so casually had you doubting what to say next. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by continuing the topic, nor did you want to brush it off like it was nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you said, facing him once the two of you began going down the spiral staircase, “I can imagine it’s difficult. But your nan clearly cares a lot, and she’s lucky to have you.”

His ears turned slightly pink at your words and you had to fight a grin.

The next few minutes were silent until Neville once again turned to face you. There was something about him that always seemed optimistic, despite the fact that he had just spoken a bit about the difficult situation with his parents. Whether it be the smile on his face or the sparkle in his eye, you couldn’t be sure what it was. But Merlin, did you ever adore it.

“She sent me my suit for the Yule Ball, actually,” he said, a bit of a hop in his step as he said the words, “It doesn’t fit perfectly but I’m sure it’ll last the night.”

You let out a small laugh, “That’s awfully sweet of her. I’m sure you’ll look dashing.”

As you said the words, you regretted them instantly. Well, not so much regretted — you meant every syllable — but more so, you wished you could currently fall into the sewer that Trelawney had predicted you’d stumble into.

Throwing out a compliment like that was quite possibly the last thing you wanted to do. Would he react badly? Would he think you were coming onto him? Would this change things?

Were you overthinking?

The corners of his lips curled up into a shy smile and he gave you a nod and cut you short of your internal rambling, “Are you excited?”

Yeah, definitely overthinking.

You let out a sigh, trying to move past your embarrassment and continue your walk to your next class, dodging a few passing students, “Kind of. I’m excited for the music. Not so much the dancing. I’m not very good at that.”

He chuckled, “I wasn’t either. I taught myself, actually. In my room. The lads loved to make fun of that.”

The image of Neville dancing away in the cramped boys’ dorm brought a smile to your face.

“You’ve already got a step up on me, then,” you faced him, “Get ready to watch me humiliate myself on the dance floor.”

You stepped a little closer to him as a group of Ravenclaw pushed past in a rush, and Neville’s hand reached for your arm to help steady you.

“Sorry,” he muttered, pulling away and avoiding your gaze, “But anyways, I’m sure you’re not as bad as you think. Ginny has never danced either, so you won’t be the only one.”

You tried your best to push past the surge of jealousy that washed over you. You already knew he was going with Ginny — hell, you’d know for a while now — but it did not make it any easier to hear. Especially coming from him.

“I didn’t expect you’d ask her,” you admitted, “but I’m sure you’ll both have a wonderful time. She’ll have a good leader to help her maneuver the moves.”

You gave his shoulder a small nudge, trying to act like you weren’t drowning in your own feelings. The thought of Neville holding Ginny close to his body as they swayed to the romantic music nearly made you sick. You liked Ginny a great deal, she was such a sweet girl with a fierce attitude that you admired, but you really wished Neville had asked you instead.

“We’re just going as friends,” he said, “I was going to ask someone else but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I’m pretty sure Ginny was also interested in another person in the first place.”

You tried your best to hold back a sigh of relief. They were going as friends. That didn’t mean it would make it easier to see them together, but maybe you could push past the jealousy you felt about seeing them as a couple.

But then the next thing he said hit you; he wanted to ask someone else. Someone he was interested in romantically? Perhaps he actually did like someone, even if that someone wasn’t Ginny. Who could it be? And why were you so irritated? You didn’t even know them.

“Well,” you said, unsure of how to change the topic, “I’ll be looking out for you two on the dance floor.” You wanted so desperately to no longer speak of the Yule Ball. The thought of the night was now dizzying and had you feeling a little faint, to be completely honest.

It was going to be a long day.

— —

You were honestly quite surprised by the appearance of the Great Hall. Usually filled with long tables, chairs, and candles, it was now glistening like a winter wonderland. There was fake snow falling from the ceiling, but it never touched the ground. The room smelled faintly of pine trees and sweets, and you figured that there had to be at least seven Christmas trees littering the room.

To put it simply, the space was beautiful.

Music played softly from the dance floor ahead, and to your right, there was a small table with a few snacks and drinks. There were also quite a few seats around, already occupied by couples and friends.

“What do you want to do?”

You turned to face Jasper, who was waving over at a group of Slytherins further on the left.

“We can go dance,” you suggested, praying he wasn’t going to drag you over to his housemates. Jasper seemed alright enough, but you weren’t a fan of his obnoxious friends. You could very well go the night without hanging around them, thank you very much.

He shrugged, “Sure.”

He linked his hand in yours and tugged you along behind him, bringing you over to the dance floor. Once you got there, you noticed a few familiar faces.

Hermione and Viktor were not far away, and she gave you an excited grin before pointing at her date, who was obviously making love heart eyes in her direction. You couldn’t blame him, honestly. Further along you spotted Fred and Angelina, dancing away as if they were the only two in the room. It caused you to chuckle.

“So do you want to dance, or…?” Jasper asked, placing one of his hands on your waist.

You shivered under his touch. It wasn’t a good shiver, it was discomfort. You wanted more than anything to be dancing with Neville — who you currently spotted over with Ginny, his hands on her waist and hers on his shoulders.

“Yeah,” you squeaked, awkwardly stepping closer to him before putting your arms around his neck. Your throat began to sting as you watched the two of them glide across the floor, laughing as they spoke to each other. It felt quite juxtaposed to the uncomfortable, weird situation that you found yourself currently in.

You began to sway to the music, trying your best not to dart your eyes to Neville every couple of seconds. Jasper was clearly not enjoying this, but you honestly couldn’t bring yourself to care what he wanted. He wasn’t going to get what he came here for and you weren’t going to be guilted into it either.

You honestly couldn’t be thankful enough as the slow song ended. You quickly pulled your arms away from him and you crossed them over your chest.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” you said, not waiting for his response before taking off to the table by the entrance. You heard him call your name as you pushed your way through students, holding the skirt of your dress in your hands to avoid being stepped on, but you didn’t look back.

There was a clearing near the table and you took a deep breath, dropping your skirt and letting out a sigh. Your shoulders slouched as you walked over and grabbed a small glass, not even sure if you were thirsty. The excuse was simply to get away from Jasper. You were regretting your decision to come here more than ever.

“I recommend the punch.”

You spun on your heel, nearly coming in contact with Neville. He was standing behind you, taking a step back after realizing how close he really was.

“Oh—,” you nodded, “Thanks.”

The punch bowl sat in front of you, glistening red under the shimmering lights. You grabbed the spoon and poured yourself a little bit, enjoying the scent of the fruity drink.

You turned back around, giving Neville a forced smile, “I’m sure it’s delicious.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he fiddled with his waistcoat, “Are you alright? I don’t mean to prod or anything.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, “Yeah, I guess I’m alright, really. Just not having a great time.”

Neville’s eyes scanned the dance floor where he spotted Jasper’s familiar blond head scanning the crowd, “I’m guessing it has something to do with your date.”

His eyes found yours again and you nodded, placing the glass down on the table behind you, “My situation is kind of like yours, I guess. You wanted to ask someone else. Well, I wanted someone else to ask me.”

You could see his shoulders sag before he frowned, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I’d say anyone would be lucky to have you as their partner, but something about him tells me he’s not enjoying himself the way he should be, being by your side and all.”

You had to fight a grin at his words. How Neville could be so awkward, yet so effortless in his words, you’d never understand. It was one of the reasons you knew you wouldn’t be getting over your crush anytime soon.

“Thanks,” you gave him a smile, looking down to the ground before meeting his eyes again, “You should go back. I don’t want to keep you from dancing.”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes as he scanned your face, but he gave a slight nod, “If ever you want to get away from him, I’ll be there to help you.”

“Thanks, Neville,” you smiled genuinely, maintaining eye contact. He stood there for a moment, looking into your eyes, and you could practically feel how reluctant he was to walk away.

As cliché and typical as it sounds, it almost felt like you were alone in the room, completely lost in his gaze. His eyes brought you comfort that nothing else could provide, and you only wished you could look into them more often. Like dancing, for example. How easily you’d find yourself lost in his eyes if you were dancing.

“No worries,” he gave you a small smile, scanned your face once more, and took off into the crowd. As you watched his head of dark hair vanish, you let out a deep breath. If life could go your way, he’d have his hand linked with yours as he led you back to the dance floor.

But life wasn’t fair like that, was it?

You completely disregarded the punch behind you, stomach feeling like it was in knots, and made your way back to where you left Jasper. Only, you couldn’t find the familiar mop of blond hair anywhere. He was rather tall, so it wouldn’t be difficult to spot him. And yet, somehow, he was nowhere to be seen.

Until you looked to the entrance door and saw him hand in hand with a ginger Slytherin girl, both of them stumbling over their feet as they made their way out.

“Well, that was fast,” you mumbled, a frown on your face.

You stood alone on the floor, couples swaying to the music around you. It kind of felt like a movie — the kind of movie where the girl gets her heart crushed by a guy, and then is ditched by another guy, and then is left alone in the end. A crappy movie, you thought, but one that seemed to fit really well right now.

The music was practically taunting you, so instead of staying put or going to finish your drink, you once again gathered your dress in your hands, and made your way out of the room.

The hallway felt a lot fresher compared to the Great Hall, but that was understandable. Hundreds of bodies in one room compared to the corridor with an open doorway to the winter air.

Though, that wasn’t where you were going. You decided you’d go down to your usual escape spot, and now that all the teachers were chaperoning the ball, you would make it there with minimal interruption.

You spotted the familiar painting by the kitchen entrance, the bowl of fruits, and raised your hand to tickle the pear. The painting swung open and you crawled through the little stone passage, making sure your dress wasn’t going to get caught, before landing on both feet on the tile floor.

“Oh! Miss Y/N!”

Dobby, donned in a little scarf and hat, waved at you from a tabletop.

“Hey, Dobby,” you grinned, “Sorry to interrupt your quiet evening in here. I didn’t know where else to go.”

He patted the table next to him, “Why did you leave so early? Dobby heard the ball was lasting all night.”

You gave him a little smile, sitting down on the stool in front of him, “Wasn’t as fun as I expected. I’d rather spend my evening here. Where is everyone else?” The stool was rather small for a human being, considering it was most likely made for an elf, but if you leaned forwards against the table and kept your feet plastered to the ground, you managed to balance just fine.

He gave a little smile and looked at you with those big eyes, “They are all tired! We have been putting the ball together for days now! They all went to bed.”

The corner of your lips curved up, “Well, now you have company, Dobby.”

He clapped his hands together and let out a little laugh, “Let me show you what Dobby found today. It was in the Gryffindor common room!”

You nodded, knowing that it was most likely a knitted hat. Hermione had been leaving those scattered around the room for a little while now. Little did she know Dobby was the one collecting them all.

As you watched his little body disappear through a small doorway on the far wall, you took a look around the kitchen. Despite the fact that you were certain they had been working non-stop in here for days on end, it was nearly spotless. Pots and pans shimmered under the candlelight, tabletops were clear, apart from a few fruit bowls and snacks. The counters were clean, as well as the floors.

If this place had windows, or maybe a little more light, you felt it would be quite nice.

You sat there silently for a little while, already beginning to feel the sadness of the evening creep in. It was quite a bummer, really. You didn’t know if you wanted to go back to your own dorm tonight or stay out wandering the halls, mind running through all the scenarios on how tonight could have gone differently, how it could have been better.

The only sound you could hear was a light creak, which you eventually realized was the painting swinging open to let someone in.

Panic began to settle in and you stood off your chair, moving to the other side of the table. You would still be very much visible if you ducked, so there was no point in doing it, but you did it anyways.

The last thing you wanted was for Snape or Moody to catch you where you shouldn’t be.

Except, the person that crawled through and landed sturdily on their feet wasn’t Snape or Moody.

It was Neville.

You popped your head back up, eyes locking with his. He looked a little disheveled in terms of his hair, and his bow tie was slightly off centre, but the smile on his face showed relief.

“Neville?” you asked, already feeling a little less panicked. You only hoped Neville was alone. The last thing you wanted was for a girl to crawl in behind him. He wasn’t that kind of guy, you knew that, but your mind went there anyways.

Thankfully, he was alone. The painting swung closed behind him and he gave you a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, walking back around to the front of the table, this time deciding not to sit on the stool.

His cheeks turned a little pink but he brushed it off and shrugged, “I saw you rush out of the room. I wanted to see if you were okay. I remember you once told me you come here when you’re upset, so I gave it a shot.”

Your mouth felt like it fell open so you shut it quickly, blinking rapidly, “I’m surprised you remembered. Only you and Hermione know about my little escape spot.”

He gave a small chuckle, stepping a little closer, “Are you alright, though? I saw you leave and I didn’t see your date anywhere.”

You gave a shrug, averting your eyes, “He left. With another girl. I wasn’t interested in him that way, but it still sucks.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and gave a shake of his head, “You’re better off without him,” he stepped a little closer, catching your attention once more, “But I get why you’re upset. Funny story, the same thing happened to me. But not in the same sense. Ginny managed to get a dance with Harry.”

You were close enough to put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

Realization caught up to you and you noticed how stupid this gesture probably was, so you snatched your arm back and held it against you. Neville noticed your quick reaction and you could see his gaze fall down to the ground before meeting yours again.

Just like at the punch table, it felt as if time stood still while you looked into his eyes. You could see he looked like he wanted to say something, his stare darting back and forth between your lips and your eyes, but he didn’t say anything for a good moment.

Until one of his hands reached across and held yours. His skin was warm, and you could feel his pulse against his wrist. His heart was beating fast, and if he could feel your own pulse, he’d say the same about you.

“You look—,” he took a deep breath, “You look beautiful tonight. Well, not just tonight. You look beautiful most of the time. I’m just saying, it’s — never mind.”

Your heart seemed to stutter in your chest, goosebumps rising on your skin at his words. They had caught you so off guard that you couldn’t find a way to respond. No words seemed to find their way into your mind. All you could do was smile. A bright, genuine grin that hurt your cheeks.

“Thanks,” you let out a small laugh, linking your fingers with his, “Also, you look pretty dapper yourself. I told you you would, and I was right.”

He stepped closer, his other hand locking with your free one. It wasn’t an overtly intimate gesture — people held hands all the time — but Merlin, did you ever melt into his touch.

“Do you — Can we have a dance?”

You bit your lip to hold back your smile. How you went from standing alone on the dance floor, starring in the most depressing teen flick you’d ever heard of, to standing alone in the kitchen, your hands locked with Neville’s as the candles flickered around the two of you, you’d never know. But you were so, so grateful. And happier than you can ever remember being.

“I’d love that,” you nodded, stepping closer and resting your head against his shoulder. His hands let go of yours and went to your waist, and it felt so right. So right that you completely forgot about how it felt when Jasper was holding you instead.

Your hands went up to his neck, draping them around him and leaning into his touch. There was no music, but it almost didn’t feel necessary. The two of you began to sway slowly back and forth, the only sound being the click of your shoes as you took your steps. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about whether Dobby would walk back in any second now.

He rested his head against yours as he led the way. It wasn’t much of a dance, but it was quite possibly the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to you. You wished more than anything that you could freeze this moment and live like this forever.

“A hat! Dobby was left a hat — Oh! Hello!”

Neville pulled away instinctively and grinned awkwardly, taking a second to process what had happened before nodding his head in the direction of the house elf, “Hello, Dobby.”

You fought a grin, turning your head back to face Dobby, who was awkwardly looking between the two of you, a large knitted beanie in his hand.

“Dobby can sense he is intruding,” he muttered, giving a little bow before backing up through the door he left through before, “Good night!”

The moment had sort of been interrupted, but you didn’t move away from Neville’s touch, resting your head against his shoulder once more as your laughter died down. Of course, the curious little elf would walk in at the worst moment.

“I knew that would happen,” you laughed, tightening your grip around him a little more. He chuckled, head falling against yours. You could feel his hair tickling the side of your face, the strands unruly and curly as they brushed against your skin.

The night ended up being way better than you expected.

This one you would never forget.

——

taglist

@grierpilots @hxfflxpxffs @mikumana @msmimimerton @pit-and-the-pen @diary-of-an-onliner @thoseofgreatambition @theweasleysredhair @haphazardhufflepuff @awritingtree @thisismysketchbook @valwritesx @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred @phuvioqhile @marvelettesassemble @shadowsinger11 @breadqueen95 @hahee154hq @inglourious-imagines @amourtentiaa @spacexcowgirl @lumos-barnes @gcdricreads @bolaurel

#neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom imagines #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom reader insert #neville longbottom one shot

[jimintopia]

prettiest of them all (1)

genre: college!au, s2l!au, fluff, angst?

pairing: jimin x reader

summary: you're nothing special, just an ordinary girl who's just trying to get through college... but an angelic boy with honey colored eyes thinks you're the most beautiful flower he's ever laid his eyes on.

word count: 1.5k

chapter warnings: swearing (mostly jungkook lmao)

a/n: oh gosh i'm so nervous,, this started out as a tiny drabble i wrote out on the back of my bio notebook in january and two weeks ago i sorta revived the idea lmao. i hope you enjoy this little series of mine!

this fic was made possible by @latetaektalk (thank you so much for those helpful tips! i spent a lot of time formatting and reformatting this post and editing the fic, and your advice helped a lot with that!) and @chimchiekookie (thank you for your encouragement and kind words! you gave me the courage to post, tysm kira). also, to @yuvi-with-luv and @meiadore for just being! i love u crackheads; oKAY that was really long so i'll let you get to the fic oops haha

[series masterlist - main masterlist - next]

(1) only time will tell.

College is not easy. But sharing an apartment with Jeon Jungkook is an entirely new level of difficulty.

“Goodness,” you mutter, stepping around the books and pens scattered on the floor of the living room, your roommate’s half-asleep body slumped across the couch. You can’t even get to the kitchen without tripping over something of his. “Couldn’t you have cleaned up before dozing off? What an idiot.”

“I heard that,” he mumbles drowsily, yawning. “The idiot is clearly you, Y/N. Who the fuck signs up for an eight A.M. lecture on Mondays? Something’s obviously wrong with you.”

That earns him an apple to the head, before you remember it’s supposed to be your to-go breakfast and quickly scramble to retrieve it.

“It’s mandatory,” you tell him. “Can’t graduate without taking it, so I might as well suffer. Psychology majors go to hell anyway, so I signed up knowing what I was getting myself into.” You give your best friend a once-over as he stretches, still on the couch. “You have fun sleeping in, Jeon, but by the time I get back I want you showered and ready for a proper brunch. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he rolls his eyes, but you know he enjoys your routine outings as much as you do. Ever since you met in your second year of high school, it became a little tradition of yours to regularly meet up for lunch on the weekends — and that turned into basically each mealtime once you got to college. “Just go, you’re going to be late. Those tiny legs of yours are gonna have a hard time running all the way to 808. We’re not even on campus.”

“Excuse you?! I’m 5’6”!”

“Y/N,” he sighs, shaking his head pitifully. “That’s like, four inches shorter than me. But nice try.”

Both of you exchange an annoyed glare, but deep down, you’re having your fun bantering with him. It’s a trademark of your relationship, one of the many things you appreciate him for. No one you have met so far could match your sharp tongue as well as Jungkook.

“I do not have time to argue with you right now, Kook.” You glance at the clock, quickly slipping your feet into battered sneakers. “There are leftovers in the fridge — by the way, remember to lock the door if you don’t want Taehyung to visit unannounced again — and I left a carton of banana milk on the bottom shelf, right next to the ketchup. Oh! I did your laundry last night; there’s a pile in your room that you just need to fold and put away. Anything else I’m forgetting?”

“You just dumped my clothes in my room? On the floor?”

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “Wrong answer, Jeon.”

“Oh, fine.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, ruffling your hair affectionately. “Thank you, Y/N. Now please just go already.”

“Dumbass,” you return, grinning. “I’ll be back soon. I'll bring Taehyung over if I run into him!”

He’s already closed your front door, but you can still hear his shout of protest from the other side, causing you to burst into incessant giggles: “Don’t you fucking dare!”

By some kind of miracle, you actually get to the lecture hall approximately a minute early. You and Jungkook don’t live on campus, but your apartment is pretty close — walking gets you to class in ten minutes, and if you run, you’ll arrive much quicker.

“Yeoreum!” you greet your friend with a whisper as you walk in, tossing your apple core into the small trash can. “You’re actually early for once!”

“Blame Hoseok,” she grumbles as you sit down next to her. “Dumbass woke me up at five in the morning to go run with him, Y/N. Five o’clock. The asshole’s dead to me from now on.”

“That sucks,” you sympathize, but you know she’ll always give in to her twin brother — the two of them are inseparable, as much as she likes to complain about him. “But hey, at least you got your coffee fix!”

Yeoreum lifts the half-empty cup before taking a long sip, a small smile adorning her features. “Also courtesy of Hoseok,” she admits. “He causes a lot of arguments, but at least he knows how to solve them. I like to think I’ve trained him well.”

“I wish I had a sibling,” you sigh wistfully. “A brother, maybe. Or a sister, I wouldn’t really mind. It must be nice always having someone else who understands you.”

“Y/N, you live with Jungkook,” she points out. “He’s basically the brother you’ve wanted your entire life. He has been since we were fifteen.”

“I know, but it’s different. I didn’t grow up with him. Plus, he’s more annoying than a sibling could ever be.”

“And he’s hot as hell.”

“Yeoreum,” you scold quietly, bringing out your laptop for the start of the lecture. “You think everyone you meet is hot. Regardless of whether they’re actually a decent human being or not. That’s probably why you always end up dating assholes who don’t deserve you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waves you off, not quite meeting your eyes. “Chill, Y/N, I’m not interested. The boy’s just insanely attractive. Can’t I call someone attractive without wanting to get with them?”

You lean over to say something to her, but the entire class quiets down suddenly, so silent that you could hear even the softest whisper.

Professor Ahn strides in with an authoritative air, several books in her arms, followed by a boy whom you’ve never seen in this class before. A new student, perhaps? Or maybe he just transferred departments. You never know — it’s certainly not too late to switch out.

The professor tells him something quickly and he nods, before jogging up the stairs and hastily sliding into the seat right next to you. In fact, it all happens so quickly that you’re still buffering, trying to process what just happened. Instinctively, you move a little closer to Yeoreum.

“Goddamn,” she breathes, eyes wide in surprise. “Y/N, he’s so fine.”

Okay, so that was a bad choice. But the thing is, she’s not wrong.

The guy doesn’t speak to or look at you once during the entire lecture, totally dedicated to typing up everything Professor Ahn is saying — but you can’t help but check him out from the corner of your eye every few minutes. The blond hair is, surprisingly, a very good look on him, and the way the corner of his mouth is always turned upward makes you incredibly curious. What the hell is there to be happy about such an early class?

Ten minutes before you can finally get out of that stuffy hall, there’s a light tap on your right shoulder, startling you. You turn your head around so fast your vision nearly blurs, taking a second to steady again. “Huh?”

The new guy is tentatively smiling at you, like he’s gauging your response. “Hi,” he says, a little hesitant. “Um — do you have a black pen I can borrow? Mine just gave up on me mid-word and I didn’t bring any extra.” You glance over to his side of the bench: sure enough, the last few letters of the word ‘extension’ are so faded out, you can barely see them.

All of your pens are either blue or red, but Yeoreum quickly passes you one of her black-ink fountain pens under the bench, nodding at you in silent understanding. “Here,” you offer it to him, watching the adorable way his face lights up when you hand it to him.

“Thank you! You’re a lifesaver,” he says, quickly scribbling something down. “I can’t fathom using any ink color other than black, it just… doesn’t make sense to me.”

Well, you could type up a whole argument against that, but you hold your tongue for the time being. Instead, you peek over at his notebook curiously, trying to see what he’s so engrossed in writing down. You catch sight of a name printed neatly on the top left corner of the page, and you squint so you can see it better.

Park Jimin. You let it rest in your mind for a moment. It’s a beautiful name, and though you don’t know exactly what it means, you’re sure it would roll right off your tongue if you were to say it aloud.

“I’m Jimin,” he says, right on cue as he returns the pen and you not-so-discreetly pass it to Yeoreum again. “What about you?”

“Y/N.” For some reason, you’re struggling both to find something to say and maintain some kind of calm. You don’t know why he’s making your heart beat faster, only that he is.

“That’s a nice name.” Jimin smiles, and it’s breathtaking. His eyes form little crescents as he beams at you — you! — and for just one second, you can’t think of anything else. A silly crush, you chide yourself, averting your gaze from his face. A few days and it’ll leave on its own.

You want to be right, and you might be wrong, but you have no idea, no way of knowing what the future holds. It’s like they always say — only time will tell.

taglist [please send an ask if you would like to be added!] : @meiadore @chimchiekookie @eyecandy5644 @chubsjmin

[series masterlist - main masterlist - next]

#jimin x reader #jimin college au #jimin strangers to lovers #jimin fluff #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #angst? #park jimin #bts s2l au #jimintopia

[sleeperswakewriting]

After Class

For @himebee-5's prompt!

Summary: Petra is Professor Ackerman's star student and yet, she keeps meeting him for office hours every Monday afternoon.

Rated: E

CWs: teacher/student relationship, age gap, praise kink

Word count: 3.2k

Surprise! I queued up another fic for smutty Saturday since I'll be out for most of the day--enjoy! 😉

She was distracting.

Levi prided himself in his stellar concentration, his perfunctory work, and despite his cold and callous demeanor, he was an excellent professor. Always receiving high remarks from his students and colleagues, and managing to churn out at least two research papers a year, there was little that compromised his neat routine.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he faced the chalkboard, clearing his throat. Levi Ackerman didn’t make mistakes, but after one look at her, his mind went elsewhere as he absently completed the calculus equation and one student shakily raised his hand and said, “E-excuse me sir, but I think you forgot to take the derivative in the fifth step.”

Taking a step back, realizing that his glasses slipped from its usual position since he took a double take at her, he merely nodded and erased the step in which he made the error and redid the equation. He thanked the student and a flurry of pencils hit paper as they recorded the problem, and Levi glanced at his watch, giving them a few minutes before he moved on.

It’s wasn’t just the plaid mini skirt and thigh high stockings that did it--he knew he was enough of a perverted old man that he at least acknowledged that turned him on, but the way she sat in the front row, prim and studious as she eyed him for the hour and a half lecture made him feel stupidly special. Most students’ eyes glazed over, and he didn’t give a shit if they were on their phones, it was their time and money after all, but the way her amber orbs never left him was almost damn unsettling if she didn’t have such a coquettish look.

Her short ginger hair was pulled back with a red head band today, and as he was giving back the first test of the semester, he paused at her seat and said, “Good work, Ms. Ral,” while sliding the test face down onto her desk. She beamed, looking at the paper, and her face fell at the grade. Levi frowned slightly, wondering what she could possibly be upset about since she received an 88, the third highest in the class. Calculus wasn’t an easy subject, and it was usually the class where students on the science and math track chose to drop out and choose a different major.

After passing out the tests, he returned to the desk at the front of the classroom to collect his things and head back to his office for his office hours for the day. As most of the students filtered out of the classroom, Petra sat stark still at her desk, eyes running over her exam, and eyebrows contorted in confusion.

“Is something wrong, Ms. Ral?” he asked, slinging his messenger bag over his grey dress shirt, adjusting his tie, and she looked up, eyes aglow. Levi pretended not to notice the way her tight long sleeved shirt hugged her curves, and the v-neck emphasized her breasts when she brought her arms together in anguish.

“I’m trying to figure out where I went wrong, Professor. I’m really disappointed in myself, I thought I aced this test.”

Levi cocked his head. “You should be proud of yourself, you have one of the highest marks in the class.”

Petra shook her head in disbelief. “Even so, I think I made far too many silly mistakes.” She sighed, shoulders slumping in clear disappointment. “I guess I’ll try harder next time. Sorry professor, you probably have to go--”

“My office hours are now,” he said, the words leaving his lips without even thinking. His glasses shone from the ceiling lights of the high lecture hall, and he swallowed. “We can go over the test if you’d like.”

And she smiled brilliantly at him again, collecting her things and swinging her fashionable book bag over her shoulder as she followed him to the math building. Levi kept at least three feet ahead of her, not wanting to give her the impression they had to make small talk since the math building was on the opposite side of the quad, and he breathed a sigh of relief when they entered his office. It was at the end of the hall of the third floor, a quiet place since it was around lunch time and most students were at the dining hall.

Levi closed the old wooden door and gestured for her to sit at the front of his desk while he deposited his bag and thumbed through the manila folder for the answer key. Petra set her things down and unfurled her own test, using his desk as she tapped her pencil at the corner of her lips.

“So which problems were giving you trouble?” He asked, loose leaf paper at the ready, and Petra motioned to problem number three.

“I get tripped up when there’s a double integral, I think.” She was already making the amendments in her head and she asked him for a piece of paper as well. Levi withdrew another from his desk cadenza and his breath hitched as their fingers touched. Stop acting like a teenage boy, he scolded himself, wondering when the last time he went on a date or had gotten laid because this was ridiculous. She was at least ten years his junior, his student no less, and she was just asking her math professor for help, even though she clearly didn’t need it.

She crossed her legs cutely, emphasizing her thighs between the space between her skirt and socks, and Levi averted his gaze as he forced himself to concentrate on her bright tone, going over her process as she circled and made the adjustments from her previous attempt.

“Yes, that’s correct. You want to integrate x and treat y as the constant. It’s like in the partial example, which you completed correctly in problem one.”

Petra smiled, nodding as understanding entered her field of vision and she completed the problem with ease. “Thank you Professor! Can you give me a harder problem just to make sure I understood the concept?”

And as Levi did his best to not pay attention to the way she said harder, he opened up the math textbook and selected an exercise, scratching it onto the paper between them and slid it towards her.

The mahogany desk was slightly too tall for Petra to comfortably lean against from the chair, so she sat up and leaned over to solve the problem, orange hair falling from her tucked ears. This time, Levi didn’t even bother looking away since Petra was fully invested in solving the equation, and he felt his pants tighten as he noted the white lace bra she had on underneath, and her round mounds spilling from her top.

“Is this right?” She asked, finally finishing, sitting back down in her seat and Levi coughed as he fought down the flush on his face.

He stared at the problem, willing himself to concentrate on the numbers in her neat handwriting, but he was finding it difficult to focus as he noticed her licking her lips after reapplying some chapstick. He took it line by line until he finally nodded and said, “Good work.”

Petra returned the paper to her folder and touched his hand gently from across the desk. “Thank you Professor Ackerman, it really means a lot to me that you went out of your way to help me. I guess the reviews were right after all.” His eyebrows rose since he didn’t usually make a habit to read his class reviews but relied on the report that the school gave him at the end of each term.

“Oh really? What do the reviews say?”

Petra giggled, and Levi felt his heart stop at the beautiful sound. “Well for one, they say you’re the sexiest teacher on campus, but more importantly, students who take your class are set up for success for linear algebra, which is my goal. I’m an astronomy major.”

He didn’t know why he found that to be a turn on since he worked at a university where there were literally hundreds of majors, but before he had a chance to think, Petra had collected her things and waved as she made for the brass knob of his office door.

“See you next week, Professor!”

And the door clicked shut. Levi’s head was spinning, and if he didn’t know any better, Petra was outright flirting with him, and he was having a difficult time processing that. He moved to lock the office door and he double checked to make sure that he didn’t have any upcoming meetings. Sinfully, he laid back in his chair and closed his eyes while he unbuckled his pants.

She’s your student, you filthy fuck. But her shiny lips, her sweet voice, and her intellect…

He stroked himself, thinking of her, and he came quickly, her name on his lips as he imagined himself taking her between her plaid skirt and thigh high socks.

---

Monday afternoons became a ritual for them, and while Levi attempted to muster up every ounce of professional courage, he found himself unable to say no to her. Every day, after class, she would sweetly ask if she could go over the day’s lecture, and he would say yes and they would wordlessly walk to his office and repeat the same routine.

It was always strictly professional, but he could have sworn that she was intentionally taking off her jacket or sweatshirt in front of him, sometimes leaving her in only a crop top. He decided then that she was purposely trying to kill him because the blood rushed faster to his groin than he could will himself to stop. He had to keep himself firmly behind his desk, not wanting to scare her from his raging hard-on as she pattered on about her misunderstandings for the day, and he would mutely nod, watching her the entire time.

She stopped the week during finals, only visiting him after his final lecture and he missed her presence during the two week absence. He eagerly awaited the day of the final exam, just to pathetically see her again, and there she was, front and center, pencil at the ready.

“This is my last test,” she whispered to him excitedly as he handed her the exam and he gave a thin smile and muttered a ‘good luck’ to her row, but looked at her the entire time.

She was the last to leave, and she heaved a sigh of relief as she handed him her packet, looking joyful.

“How did you find the test, Ms. Ral?” he asked, sparing her a last glance before she left his classroom for the final time. His heart ached at that, but he supposed it was for the best since dreams and visions of her had plagued him since the beginning of the semester.

“I think I aced it, thanks to my excellent teacher.” And she gave him a dazzling smile as she walked away and Levi trailed her form until she disappeared.

--

It was a routine message that Levi sent out to all of his students, that if they wanted to go over their final exam that they could set up office hours. He didn’t allow for debating for points--he had no time for that, and his grading procedure was precise and calculated, but he set up time slots for ease of the students.

So when he saw Petra Ral in his email, requesting for the last time slot before the last day of the grading period, he hurriedly clicked accept even though she received a perfect score on her test.

It was spring, and the promise of a new future hung in the air when Petra entered his office, wearing a similar ensemble to when she first came in, a red plaid skirt, thigh high stockings, and this time, a white knit t-shirt that unbuttoned just at her cleavage. She poked her head in, and he noticed that she didn’t carry a book bag, but opted for a small purse that slung over one shoulder.

“Hi Professor!” she chirped happily, hands clasped behind her back. Levi allowed himself a smile as he took her in.

“What can I do for you Ms. Ral? Surely you don’t have any complaints about this test--congratulations on ruining the curve, by the way. Your classmates are furious.”

Petra laughed, feeling satisfied with herself as she gazed at him--sleeves rolled up to his forearms and he opted for a vest and tie set that complimented his eyes nicely. “I wanted to let you know that I’m taking Professor Hange’s class next semester for linear algebra.”

His heart fell; he was also teaching that class, but maybe it didn’t fit into her schedule. He didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “She’s a tough teacher, but she’s good at what she does. Don’t expect to be let go early, the woman can and will go on for hours.”

Petra smiled. “I’ll be sure to make a note of it.” And she shuffled between her feet as a light blush came to her cheeks. “I wanted to give you a thank you gift, for all the office hours you’ve given to me the past semester.”

Levi raised a thin eyebrow between his glasses. “You don’t have to do that, Ms. Ral. It’s part of my job. You’re an excellent student, you made my job very easy.”

She batted her eyelashes as she stepped closer to him. He was seated in his leather office chair, arms crossed and she took a deep breath as she stood a foot apart from him, hands still playing with each other behind her back. “It’s nothing expensive. And you can call me Petra, Professor, the semester is over.”

And before Levi could question her words, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek. Levi’s heart pounded in his chest, noticing that Petra was visibly shy despite the bold gesture she had just committed and he stared at her, slack jawed.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Levi’s eyes widened, and the hungry need he had for her over the past three months took over. Before he knew it, he was tugging at her wrist and she was straddling his lap, skirt pooling between them as he devoured her into a kiss, lips furiously nipping and biting as she let out an animated moan. Her hands went for his tie, pulling it from his vest and then around his neck where she buried her fingers into his undercut. A shiver of pleasure went down Levi’s spine as he settled his hands at her waist, then her back, and then at the fabric at the end of her shirt.

Panting, Petra raised her arms, signalling for him to take it off, and Levi let out a groan and a fucking hell at her lacy push up bra. Arms wrapped around each other again, Petra leaned into his chest, pressing her tits against him while she grinded against his lap, smiling as she devilishly noticed his hard-on between their clothing. Her breath was hot against his as she moved to unbutton his vest, and he raised himself to take it off, but let out a hiss as their centers made contact.

Not being able to help himself, Levi trailed his fingers up and down her legs, groaning that he was finally able to touch her, and the way the spandex hugged her skin was driving him crazy. He dove between her skirt, reaching for her panties and he played at her apex, noticing that she was incredibly wet, which only turned him on more.

Petra keened and threw her head back in pleasure as he began lavishing her neck with kisses and suckled at her jawline, happy that she tasted as beautiful as she looked. A light floral perfume danced across her flesh, and he inhaled her as he undid the headband from her hair, freeing the locks so he could bury his nose between them.

“Professor, ah, can you please touch me?” She asked weakly, eyes clenched shut from Levi’s ministrations and he chuckled.

“Only because you’ve been such a good student,” he whispered into her ear, and she nodded as he slipped a finger in, and pleasured sighs escaped both of their lips.

“God, you’re so fucking wet. Were you planning on this before you came in?” Levi asked, using his other hand to unbuckle his pants and slid down his zipper.

Petra was finding it harder and harder to think as Levi pumped into her, alternating between two and three fingers, teasing her clit and taking his hands away before she could go any higher. Vision going blurry, she reached for the back of her bra and undid the hook, letting it fall between them and Levi ripped it off, freeing her breasts.

He took a nipple between his teeth and bit down hard, earning a cry from Petra as she begged him to keep touching her while he buried his face into her chest. Petra moved to play with both of her nipples, all while riding against his hand and she felt like her heart was about to explode from Levi’s touch.

She slid her tongue against his lips, drinking him in as she asked him to help slide her panties down, and he obliged, but not before pocketing them into his pants. She shot him a questioning look, and he smirked, “This is my thank-you gift.”

Bashfully, Petra smiled and pawed him between his underwear, stroking his length up and down with her hand and she pulled his waist down just far enough to free his member. She gasped at his size, and Levi let out a hum of satisfaction while she took a moment to gaze at it, providing him with light touches.

“Levi, can I ride you?” She asked demurely, eyes fixated on his dick and he gripped her by the ass to guide her close.

Leaning over, he whispered into her ear, “That’s Professor Ackerman to you.”

Petra keened at his husky voice, and lowered herself onto him, moaning loudly as he breached her, dick hot against her tight entrance.

“That’s a good girl,” he encouraged, holding her close as she steadily bobbed up and down, her wetness providing enough slickness between them. His balls smacked against his legs, and her tits bounced each time she reached his hilt and she cried out.

Wild with lust, Levi toyed with her clit as she continued to ride him, fingers dancing and shaking as she paused to catch her breath. Their eyes met, and with equal fervor, they kissed as Petra braced her hands against his shoulders, pace increasing and then reaching her climax in a frenzy as she bobbed up and down.

“Professor,” she whined, releasing her hands and crying into his collar as she rode out her orgasm.

Levi’s eyes were clenched shut as her walls fluttered around him, her tightness becoming too much for him as he also met his own pleasure, and he pumped into her in short pulses. Breaths panting, he looked up to meet Petra, who was smiling between breaths.

Still sitting comfortably inside her, Levi laughed warily, unsure of where to go from here. Petra, still wrapping her body around his, licked the lobe of his ear as she said sultrily into his ear, “Did that count as extra credit?”

#rivetra #rivetra fanfiction #Levi x petra #petra x levi #petra ral #my fics

[marshmallow-phd]

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

**

You were anxious, but you couldn’t describe exactly why. Was it as narrowed down to Ran and Yixing simply interacting? The two worlds colliding? Or was it as broad as the fact that Yixing was stepping into your apartment?

The place wasn’t dirty. Both you and Ran were diligent on keeping on top of the dishes and dusting. You weren’t necessarily the “make your bed everyday” type, but it wasn’t too much of a jumble of sheets. There were no leftovers out on the counter or crusted plates in the sink. The air smelled of artificial citrus thanks to the plug-in that Ran kept up with on a steady rotation.

Ran ushered everyone in and then closed the door with no concern of a noise level. “Pizza should be here any minute.” The only responses she received were silent nods.

It was awkward as the three of you stood around, no one talking, no one moving towards the available seating in the living room. Ran often brought friends over and they naturally made themselves at home. Whenever Victoria or Amber were in town, you met up with them at coffee shops or restaurants serving brunch. Your apartment was not a typical place to congregate. It was your sanctuary, the place you went to in order to get away. Now the outside world was coming in and you weren’t sure what to do.

“Yixing, you want a drink?” Ran offered.

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Ran shot you a very pointed look before whisking off to the kitchen. Yixing’s eyes roamed over the mostly empty walls. Neither you nor Ran were good with tools so ramming a nail into plaster didn’t seem like a logical way to spend an afternoon. Any decorating done to give the apartment a homey feel was done on the side and coffee tables. Ran’s novels were stacked in with your medical textbooks for easy reaching. Picture frames containing silly faces and fond memories sat on top of the wooden surfaces. Your favorite was the one of you and your aunt mid laugh, soaking wet from the water ride that had splashed from behind. Wherever you went, that picture went too. Yixing found it after a few seconds, walking over to it like in a trance. He picked up the cheap, plastic black frame with a gentle hand. A dimple made an appearance in his right cheek as he studied the photo.

“You look like you had fun.”

A small laugh pushed out as the memories of that trip flashed through your mind like a PowerPoint. Lost chargers, multiple changes of clothes from water rides and dropped ice creams, and dozens of wrong turns to get to the right ride. Neither you nor your aunt were good at working the app made for the amusement park, but that only added to the adventure.

“We did,” you replied. “That was right before my freshman year here. One last hurrah before moving on to adulthood.” That was what your aunt had said, anyway, though both of you knew she meant it sarcastically. She didn’t believe in full adulthood. A little bit of childishness was necessary to live life to the fullest – a concept that you couldn’t quite fully understand in words but could when you were looking at her. Yixing nodded, the smile growing by a few centimeters as he set the frame down again. Ran entered from the kitchen and handed him a steaming mug of fresh tea. You nearly hid your face in your shirt when you noticed which cup Ran had chosen or the gesture of a gracious host.

Little chibi figures depicting characters from your favorite drama danced around the porcelain mug. It was cute in your eyes when you’d ordered it from the online shop. Now, it was mortifying. You just hoped that Yixing assumed that it was Ran’s and that Ran didn’t mention anything to the contrary.

“Thank you.” Yixing blew on the steam that danced from the caramel colored liquid and took a sip small enough for a mouse. Still, no one sat. Ran glanced at you with a curious expression. If she was telling you to do something, you weren’t able to pick up on what that thing might be. Miraculously, you were saved by the door knock.

Ran shuffled over to the door to answer it. Yixing leaned down and placed the mug on the coffee table and that’s when it hit you.

He still wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him into your bedroom while Ran was distracted with the delivery guy. You let go of Yixing and started rifling through your closet for a more unisex shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Yixing asked right behind you.

You jumped at his sudden closeness but didn’t look behind you. “You’re still just wearing the jacket. When Ran notices, she’ll start asking questions.” Your fingers landed on an old band t-shirt that you hadn’t worn in a while. The black was a neutral color and most of the wording was faded. You doubt Ran would recognize it. “Here. Put this on.”

Seemingly laughing at you in his head, Yixing smiled and unzipped his jacket.

The first time you’d seen him shirtless, you were too distracted by the hiker to take real notice. Now that he was the only one around and standing in your bedroom… heat exploded all over your body. And the jerk seemed to notice as he took his time to take off the jacket and push his head through the shirt. You scurried around him and poked your head out of your room just in time to see Ran hand over the tip, closing the door with the pizza boxes in hand.

“Smells good,” Yixing commented as he snuck up behind you once again. He really needed to stop doing that.

“And its still warm, too,” Ran cooed, having heard him. She took a long whiff. You couldn’t help but take one, too. Delicious. Your mouth was already swimming when you sat down at the table. You didn’t even remember telling your feet to move. Ran grabbed plates from the cabinet before flipping open the lids, engulfing the apartment with that familiar scent. “Bon appetite!”

“Thank you for dinner,” Yixing said again. He was always so polite. It was endearing. So much so that you had paused midbite and started staring at him with a grin of your own pulling at your lips’ corners.

Ran chewed through a mouthful before answering. “No problem. You just have really good timing.”

A silence that you couldn’t quite call comfortable settled over the meal. You thought over and over of what you could say to continue a conversation, but all options fell flat. The consequence of that? Ran jumping in.

“So, Yixing, how do you know (y/n)?”

“We have class together,” he explained, not bothered at all by the questionnaire he was about to receive. Or he was simply unaware that this might only be the beginning.

“Which one?”

“Human physiology.”

Ran’s eyebrows shot up. “The one that just combined? So, did you have the other professor?”

Yixing nodded solemnly. “I did.” Though there were still several bites left of his current slice, he put it down and folded his fingers with his elbows resting on the table. “She was a good teacher.”

“That’s what I heard a lot,” Ran agreed. “It’s scary what’s going on. You never know who’s going to be next. I heard that there might have been another attack today.”

You looked at Yixing thinking that he would do the same given your shared knowledge that there was indeed another attack, but he didn’t turn his head in the slightest. He kept staring at the table. You knew this was bothering him. It was written in every facet of his posture and face. But Ran didn’t seem to notice.

“I think they should send the rangers out and put down the animal. I mean, I hate to kill anything that is just living its life, but there’s obviously something wrong with it. Like it went mad or something. Putting it out of its misery might be—”

“Ran, do you have plans tonight?” you jumped in.

Ran blinked as her mind quickly changed gears. “Yeah. Hae In is picking me up in a few minutes and we’re going to go out. You two are welcome to join us.”

“That’s okay,” you answered for both of you. “Thanks, though.”

Ran grinned cheekily. “I kind of figured.”

A quick succession of knocks rattled from the front door. Ran leapt up and ushered her friend inside.

Hae In, a girl whose personality was as bright as her blonde hair, waved excitedly at you and Yixing. “Hey! Ooo, that looks good!” She was quickly distracted by the pizza, grabbing a slice as soon as Ran gave her the okay. She swallowed down a few bites. “I’m Hae In, by the way,” she said to Yixing. “Are you (y/n)’s friend?”

“Yes, I am,” he said, a bit his previous light coming back. “I’m Yixing.” Standing up, he held out his hand for her to take.

“Nice to meet you,” Hae In shook his hand after wiping the grease off on an unused napkin.

“We should probably get going,” Ran suggested. “You know Marnie will take forever and we want to get there before they start charging covers.”

“No kidding,” Hae In giggled. She waved goodbye and followed Ran out the door.

Yixing turned to you. “They seemed nice.”

“They are,” you nodded as you stood to your feet and started clearing the table of the dirty dishes. Yixing was soon on his own feet, helping by moving all the leftover pizza into one box and then closing the lid so it could fit in the fridge. You rinsed off the plates, the water plashing all over the counter. After a quick clean up, you put the plates in the dishwasher. Yixing had moved on to the living room. He was seated on the couch, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs and looking deep in thought. You sat down beside him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he said none-too-convincingly. He sat up so he was now sitting back into the couch. “I’m okay. It’s just been… a day.”

You snorted. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

He didn’t respond to what you had said. He changed the subject in a sharp turn. “This shirt’s comfortable.”

You frowned, confused. “Yeah, its old so its been washed a few times. But it was soft like that when I bought it.” What were you even saying? Why were the two of you talking about your shirt? Honestly, you wanted to forget for a second that he was wearing your clothes at all. Because then you mind drifted to what was underneath the cloth.

“I think I’ve heard of this band,” Yixing said as he tugged on the front where the members were proudly displayed in a tough-guy fashion. There were a few breaks in the plastic-y photo that split some of the faces at odd angles. “They’re a pop group, right?”

You cleared your throat as you shifted in your seat. “Yeah. I guess you could call them that.” Why were you suddenly dying of humiliation? Why should you have any anxiety over what music you liked? One fear might have been that he was one of those people who looked down on others for liking such “shallow music.” You never thought the group in that way. If the vocals were good, who cared if the songs were mostly about love? “I like them anyway.”

To your surprise, Yixing was smiling. “I like them, too.”

In your heart, you were sure he was saying something else. Implying someone else that he really liked.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Because… well, you were realizing that you liked him. Very much. More than a friend. You liked Yixing. And you wanted him to like you, too. While you weren’t a mind reader, you thought that maybe there was a chance that he already did.

Going with the second thought that popped into your head, you looked at him shyly. “Thanks for coming along when you did, by the way. I don’t think I would have been to get him help in time if you hadn’t.”

Instead of returning your soft expression, Yixing remained stoic. He reached out and touched your cheek with the tips of his fingers. They were warm against your skin – No, not warm. Even with the minimal contact, you could feel the fire. It felt like a constant wave of sunshine pulsing into your skin. By sheer instinct, you leaned in deeper to his touch. That was encouragement enough for him to shift so now his palm was against your cheek. The reaction to pull away coursed in your mind, but you couldn’t bring it to fruition. If it had been anyone else, you would have been up and off that couch, putting plenty of room between you and them. But with Yixing… you simply wanted to move closer.

And someone did.

You weren’t sure if it was you or him – your money would have been on a mutual understanding, an equal pull that shifted both of you like magnets. But there was no gnashing of teeth or crumpling of shirts. It was a softer collision. A hesitant one. Your hands dug into the cushion to force you not to move as his lips brushed against yours. When he pressed more, his other hand came up and pulled you in closer by your hip. You didn’t resist, encompassing the space that was his lap.

That fire – that heat and warmth like a log alite on a winter’s day – was everywhere now. But just as it was growing, it was also drifting farther back in your mind. Yixing’s presence, his touch, was consuming your thoughts. You were not the kind of person who did this. You shied away from intimate moments like this. The weeks you had known Yixing were short, but that felt like a detail of little consequence. You believed yourself safe in his embrace.

The kiss ended abruptly. With hands that were simultaneously harsh and gentle, Yixing removed you from his lap, placing you on the cushion beside him. He gave no explanation for his sudden switch in direction. You weren’t sure what for, but the urge to apologize was swelling up, like you were the only one who had crossed a line.

“I’m… sorry.”

Yixing rubbed his eyes, releasing a sigh. “No. Don’t be. I just… I need to figure some things out first.”

“Some… things?” Was he… already seeing someone else? That’s what that usually meant, right? In all this time, he had never mentioned having a girlfriend. He wouldn’t have let you borrow his jacket if there was a chance that another girl might see it. Unless— unless she didn’t go to the university in town and they were in a long-distance relationship? The more you thought about it, the more your stomach was beginning to churn.

“I know that’s— What I mean is—” With another heavy sigh and a shake of his head, he stood to his feet. Not looking at you, he concluded, “I should… probably go.”

You were in state of confusion and sadness as he hurried out the door. Your eyes stayed trained on the last space that he had occupied. This was exactly why you didn’t do things like this. No moment of bliss was worth the terrible heartache that was always doomed to follow. Bringing your feet up on the couch, you made yourself as small as possible. Minutes went by. You weren’t sure why you didn’t move. Was there some stupid part of you that was waiting for him to come back through the door? Things like that only happened in the movies or a teen novel. As if to prove yourself wrong for why you were still in that spot, you peeled yourself up and walked into your room.

Laying there on your bed, folded like a store window display, was the jacket. Divided more than ever, you continued to stand in your doorway and stare at the last remaining evidence of Yixing’s presence.

**

As soon as he was outside, Yixing whirled and threw his fist into the grimy brick. Shaking out the pain, he cursed at himself under his breath. Stupid. He didn’t lash out like this. It wasn’t the right way to work out his anger. Even if it was towards himself.

The wolf both cheered at the line he’d crossed and whined at the sudden retreat. Part of him knew what the outcome would be once Ran left the apartment. The right thing to do would have been to say goodbye immediately and leave. But he had you to himself and to a wolf with his mate, that was a drug that couldn’t be discarded. So, he sat down on that couch, waiting for you to join. Sitting so close, Yixing’s muscles had tightened from the restraint. And then he snapped.

The scent rolling from you was too great to resist. Besides, you were leaning in, too. You were wanting it, too. Lips so soft as they kissed him back. Minseok had been right; it was like heaven on earth.

Then his mind pulled him back to hell.

A hiker had been attacked right around the time that he had blacked out. Again. And this time, they’d lived to describe the animal that had charged on him. A gray wolf. The same color as his own fur.

He fought against the thought that it might have been him. He held on tight to the chance that it was coincidence. But if it wasn’t… he couldn’t risk you getting hurt. If he did something to cause you harm… he’d never be able to forgive himself. He needed to get a handle on this, and fast. He just hoped that you didn’t hate him for the stunt he pulled back there.

In his pocket, his phone rang. Thankful for the distraction, he pulled it out and then the gratitude scrambled away.

It was Junmyeon.

Already knowing what this call would be about, he answered it. “Hello?”

“Yixing? Where are you? I need to come back to the house for a family meeting.”

He didn’t even bother to pretend to not understand. He didn’t ask for the reason to cover his current state of mind. “Okay. I’m in town, so it’ll take me about an hour to get home.”

“We’ll wait for you.”

Exhaling as his thumb hit the red button on his phone, Yixing pushed off the wall of the building and hopped into his car. A back and forth debate carried on as he drove down the backroad. Would he tell his pack what was going on and risk being ostracized? Or did he try to do this on his own and risk everything?

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #yixing x reader #lay x reader #lay #exo lay #zhang yixing #exo x fem!reader #exo x reader #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo college au #exo college!au #The Untamed Universe #Healing Touch

[lunaslethifold]

A Summer in Ottery St. Catchpole: Part 1 (George Weasley x Potter!Reader)

Pairing: George Weasley x Female!Potter!Reader 

Series Synopsis: Y/N Potter used to have a huge crush on George Weasley. She could hardly even function around him. Now fresh out of a long relationship, she can say with confidence that those feelings she harbored for years are gone. George, on the other hand, had barely even acknowledged her existence. But now that Y/N is more comfortable around him, he starts to see the real her. George starts to see her in a new light. Boy, is that bad news for him. 

Warnings: none

Word Count: ~2.4k 

Find the other works in this series in my masterlist (pinned and linked in my bio :))

A/N: Here’s the second part of the series, shorter than the last part as promised. Reminder that this series takes place the summer after Goblet of Fire and before Order of the Phoenix, and it doesn’t follow canon completely. I made the headquarters of the OOTP the Burrow instead of Sirius’ house, mostly because I wanted to write this in the Burrow setting. The beginning of this sort of sets up everything that is to come. Also, thank you so much for all of the support on the prologue! I honestly was hoping for like, 5 notes, so tysm! Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Harry was sat on his bed, watching his older sister pacing in front of him. Slight annoyance started to creep up on him at her incessant movement. The Dursleys had left not long ago to get help for Dudley. The house was quiet. Too quiet.

“Y/N, would you stop that?” Harry finally said, irritated.

“Expelled, Harry. Expelled! I can’t believe it. They can’t do that. It’s not right,” Y/N replied, completely ignoring what he just said. Harry almost rolled his eyes at her. “I mean, you were protecting him! Not to mention that he already knows about magic. Goodness, I should’ve been there-”

“Y/N, shh!”

“Don’t tell me to shh, Harry. I’m older than y-” This time, Harry did roll his eyes and placed a hand over her mouth, stopping her from continuing. Y/N attempted to pry his arm off.

“Did you hear that?” he said, lowering his hand.

“Hear what?” Y/N said, glaring at him. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped short when she heard it too. There were shuffling noises coming from downstairs.

“The Dursleys?” she mouthed at Harry. He gave her a confused look. “The. Dursleys.” She tried mouthing it again, this time slower.

“What?” he mouthed back, raising his eyebrows.

“The Dursleys,” she whispered to him. Harry still looked lost. “The! Dursleys!” Y/N whisper-shouted, exasperated. This time he understood.

“What about them?” he whispered back.

“Are they back? Is their car here?” she said, gesturing at the window that Harry was standing next to. It seemed to click in his mind and he searched for a sign of their presence outside. Nothing. He turned back to his sister and shook his head. They both pulled their wands out. The noise seemed to get closer and Y/N stepped in front of Harry.

The door to their room burst open and multiple figures could be spotted in the doorway. “Lumos,” a voice said, and the previously dark room was illuminated with light. The source of the light was a wand that was held by a woman with colored hair. She smiled goofily at Y/N and she almost smiled back. Almost. But she was still in protective sister mode and raised her wand a little bit.

While Y/N was looking at the woman, Harry seemed to have noticed a figure behind her.

“Professor Moody?”

-

Suddenly the Potter siblings were mounted on brooms and zooming through the sky. Y/N wasn’t nearly as good as Harry was on a broom, but she could hold her own. Although she was a little bit distracted with the whole being-rescued thing, she realized that the route they were taking was familiar to her.

“Oi!” she called to the woman who had smiled at her earlier. “Er… Tonks!” This caught her attention and she turned to her. “Are we going to the Weasley’s?” Y/N yelled. The wind whipped against her face and she squinted.

Tonks nodded. “Yeah, headquarters.” She also sent Y/N the same goofy smile as before. Y/N was a bit confused, but she smiled back this time. She could tell that she already liked her.

Soon the group approached the Burrow. Or, where the Burrow was supposed to be. It seemed to have vanished into thin air. When they landed, Y/N exchanged glances with Harry. He shrugged in response. It seemed that every year they were learning something new about the wizarding world. Moody lifted his staff and the charming house that they’d spent their summers at seemed to be growing before them. They all entered the house and a different noise than the usual hustle and bustle made its way to their ears. In fact, it seemed that there was arguing going on. And not the usual sibling back and forth, but actual heated conversation.

Y/N and Harry approached the dining room table, where all the commotion seemed to be. There, they caught sight of some of their favorite people.

“Remus!” Y/N said, reacting first. 

“Sirius!” Harry said from beside her. They were all wearing matching grins. As they tried to step forward, Mrs. Weasley blocked them.

“Now, now, we can say our hellos later. Upstairs you two, and we’ll call you for dinner in just a bit,” she smiled at them. Molly wrapped them in a quick hug and ushered them towards the stairs. Y/N glanced back before reluctantly walking up with Harry in tow.

When she reached the top, she was immediately pulled into a hug by Ginny. Harry greeted her before heading off to find Ron and Hermione. 

“Y/N! It feels like it’s been forever. I missed you,” she said, leading Y/N to her room.

“I missed you too. What’s with all the secrecy?” Y/N replied.

“They’re having a meeting. Mum says we’re not old enough to be allowed,” Ginny said, shrugging and fiddling with the books on her desk.

“A meeting for what, exactly? No one can give me a straight answer,” she replied, plopping herself onto the bed.

“The Order of the Phoenix, of course.”

“The Order of the Phoenix, of course,” Y/N mocked, making her voice much higher than usual. She picked up a pillow and chucked it at Ginny. She threw it back at her and rolled her eyes. “Hey, where’s Fred?”

“Oh, and here I thought you were excited to see me,” Ginny replied, smiling.

Y/N groaned. “You know that is not what I meant.”

“Dad sent him and George to town to get some things for dinner.”

“Ah, okay. So, tell me more about this Order of the Phoenix,” Y/N said, turning to Ginny. 

“Why tell when we can listen?” Ginny said with a mischievous glint in her eye as wide grins made their way to their faces.

-

That was how Ginny and Y/N found themselves in the situation they were currently in. Harry, Ron, and Hermione seemed to have the same idea and took the prime spot outside near the window. 

"I think I've got an idea," Y/N said. The plan was simple, really. Ginny would throw an old book she had lying around her room to the ground floor. Then, when Mrs. Weasley went to go investigate - she was the only one who had a view of the hallway from where she was standing - the two girls would duck into the coat closet that was near the door to the dining room. It was foolproof. Okay, maybe not so much. But Y/N really wanted to hear what was going on and there was no time to think of a brilliant plan.

The moment had come. Y/N sat at the top of the stairs, waiting for the sound of the book hitting the ground. When she heard it, she dashed down and before turning the corner, she peaked just to make sure that Mrs. Weasley was gone. She wasn’t. Y/N stopped herself from running forward. That was a close one, she thought. Just when she thought she was in the clear, Ginny came barreling down the stairs and smacked right into her. Y/N, clad in socks, slipped on the wood floor and fell down, taking Ginny with her. A loud thump sounded, and Mrs. Weasley’s head snapped in their direction mid sentence. She didn’t even hesitate before closing the door with her wand.

-

Fred and George were walking up the hill towards the house, bags of groceries in hand. “Do you reckon Y/N and Harry are here yet?” Fred asked George.

“Well, let’s find out, shall we?” George replied, watching the house reveal itself. They stepped into the hallway and their eyes landed on a peculiar sight. Well, peculiar for George at least.

“She didn’t hear! She didn’t get up from her spot,” Y/N said. Her and Ginny were sprawled in a pile on the floor and they were too busy conversing to notice them. 

“How is that my fault?” Ginny replied, trying to fix her disheveled appearance.

“I didn’t say it was-” Y/N began, but she was cut off when a pillow smacked her in the face. Ginny had reached behind her and grabbed it from the stack of laundry behind her. Time seemed to stop for a moment as a shocked and slightly offended expression settled onto Y/N’s face. She wasn’t genuinely offended, but George didn’t know that.

She recovered quickly and let out a shriek of, “Ginny Weasley! You’ll regret that!” Soon a storm of pillows and blankets were being thrown around the room as the sound of giggles filled the air. 

After a minute of this Fred set his bags on the floor and blocked a pillow that was headed straight for the side of Y/N’s head. “Oi! Stop trying to pummel my friend, will you?” Fred said, with a big smile on his face. Y/N turned towards him with an equally large smile on her face. 

“Fred!” she said, pulling him in for a hug. She reached up to touch the ends of his hair. “I like your haircut.”

“Your friend? She was my friend first, actually,” Ginny laughed, tugging Y/N to her side by her arm.

Fred opened his mouth to reply, but Y/N spoke first. “Actually,” she started, looking around the room for something. Her eyes landed on George. “George is my favorite Weasley,” she said, moving to stand next to them. She gently placed her hand on his arm, looked at him, and gave him a silly smile. “Hi, George.” 

George was taken aback when he felt a jolt where her hand was. Fred and Ginny seemed to be protesting her statement, but he didn’t quite register what they were saying. Her hand felt nice there and it seemed to spread warmth throughout his arm. She was still looking at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but his breath hitched in his throat. Her smile was contagious though, so he managed to return it with a grin of his own. To George, it seemed like the girl next to him was looking at him for an eternity, but in reality it was only a few seconds. Something else caught her attention and she turned away, removing her hand from its spot on his arm. He felt himself almost… missing it. He tried to shake the feeling away.

What was going on?

-

The next day George woke up a little bit later than usual. Fred had already disappeared from their shared room. After he got ready he went downstairs in search of his twin. He tried looking everywhere, but he couldn’t seem to find him. George felt like he ran into everyone but who he was looking for. Ron, his parents, Ginny, and even Hermione. He was starting to get exasperated as he headed to the last place he thought Fred would be.

George went out the backdoor and headed to the big old tree where the treehouse that he and his siblings spent countless summer days sat. As he approached he heard laughter and chatter coming from it. He ascended the latter and found Fred and Y/N lounging lazily there. They looked like they were in their own world. As usual, George thought, laughing to himself.

“Stealing my best friend, are we?” George said when he was fully in. Fred and Y/N’s heads snapped up.

“Yeah, Fred, stop stealing his best friend,” Y/N said, sending her and his twin into hysterics. George was caught by surprise, but couldn’t help but join in too. He was a little bit confused, though. Y/N has grown less shy around him over the past couple of months, but she seemed to be letting loose more. This interaction had just confirmed what he thought when he arrived at the Burrow last night.

Y/N Potter had changed in George’s eyes.

-

George found himself conversing with Y/N more often than he supposed he had in his life during the next couple of days. She was suddenly more talkative around him. Not that he minded, though. In fact, George was quite enjoying her company; he hung onto every word she said. Whether they were talking about a prank Fred was planning or the upcoming school year, he couldn’t quite seem to get enough. But still, Y/N spent most of her time with Fred and Ginny. George was used to it by now, but for some reason this year he felt a bit… disappointed. He didn’t let it bother him, though, because he’s usually around Fred anyways. 

George took notice of other things about Y/N besides who she spent time with, too. It first happened one evening when everyone was in the yard, save for Y/N and Ginny, who were meant to be doing the dishes. Keyword, meant.

George had run out of pumpkin juice after a particularly long match of quidditch with his brothers, so he ran into the house to get a refill. He made it to the doorway into the kitchen and paused to take in the scene in front of him. And pause he did. 

The sun was setting and gave the Burrow a warm glow. The sound of a muggle song that George hadn’t heard before echoed through the kitchen. He wasn’t listening to the song, though. His attention was on the girl who was dancing with his sister. They were throwing their arms about wildy and jumping around like no one was watching them. Well, no one was supposed to be watching. Their laughs filled the air as they took turns singing the lyrics. Ginny grabbed Y/N’s arm and twirled her.

George was absolutely captivated. He felt like he had never seen someone look so effortlessly… well, beautiful. It was the only word he could think to describe her in that moment. The permanent smile that adorned her face, the comfortable clothes she was wearing, it all seemed like he had caught her in a perfect little moment. A grin made its way to his face and he gently leaned against the door frame. The song ended way too soon for his liking and the girls stopped to catch their breath.

Y/N turned around and noticed him standing there. She smiled sheepishly and waved at him. “What’s up, George?” she said, giggling slightly. When she said his name butterflies erupted in his stomach and he couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face.

This is completely fine, he thought. I’m fine. Sure, George.

Again, thank you guys so much for all your likes, reblogs, and comments on the prologue! I truly appreciate it. Let me know what you guys thought of this part. Also, what do you think of the length? Do you like them longer like the prologue, or shorter like this part? Thank you so much for reading!

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley imagine #george weasley series #george weasley fic #fred weasley #harry potter #harry potter fic #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp #hp fanfic #hp series #harry potter series #harry potter x reader #harry potter x sister!reader #george weasley x potter!reader #george x reader #george #weasley #gryffindor #george weasley imagines #george weasley reader insert #weasley twins #fred and george weasley #ginny weasley

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - when you let go of his hand in the elevator

This work, 当你坐电梯时松开他的手, was originally written by  君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ VICTOR ]

The time taken for the elevator to make its descent from the CEO’s office on the top floor to the underground carpark is always boring. As such, an idea strikes, and you start giving in to your playfulness.

Fidgeting your right hand, you sense that Victor isn’t holding it very tightly, nor does he have any reaction. You shake it off forcefully.

“What is it?” Victor, who has always remained calm in the presence of volatile situations, finally turns his head to you, confusion on his face. “Why are you throwing a fuss?”

Although you just wanted to see his reaction at first, his words make you recollect how wronged you felt earlier. “You were so fierce after looking at my proposal just now, as though you weren’t talking to your dear girlfriend QAQ”

“Work is work, feelings are feelings.” His official-sounding response stops abruptly when he sees you pursing your lips. With a resigned sigh, he continues in a gentler tone. “I’ll take note next time, and not use such a... fierce tone.”

“Pfft~” You can’t help but laugh aloud when you see how helpless he looks when you were just being playful. “You said it yourself. If you're fierce towards me again, I’ll tell Pudding, and let it scratch you~”

“Also.” He turns to face you.

“What...” 

The elevator halts along with time. A scorching kiss seals your red lips, and the two of you are so close that you can count the number of lashes on his eyes.

The numbers displayed on the elevator continue descending, and he releases the seal on you. “This is what’s called “kissing a girlfriend”.

[Note] 亲亲 (“qin qin”) can mean both “dear one” or “kiss”. MC and Victor both used this term - MC employed the first definition when she pointed out his fierceness, while Victor used the second definition at the end :>

[ GAVIN ]

Gavin knows that you lack a sense of security, and that you’re afraid of taking the elevator. As such, he voluntarily takes up the task of sending you to the office and back home.

Actually, you don’t need someone to accompany you. When there’s no one with you, you’d grip the railing tightly to quell the unease in your heart.

In the afternoon, Gavin picks you up from work as usual. In the elevator, Gavin takes your hand in his tightly. Although his hand has developed thick calluses from wielding a gun over many years, it’s warm and powerful.

You twitch, and Gavin loosens his grip slightly, thinking that you’re uncomfortable with how tightly he’s holding your hand. Seizing this opportunity, you grab the railing behind you with your free hand, then extricate the other from his.

When the soft touch of your hand vanishes, Gavin immediately takes your hand in his again. “Aren’t you afraid of taking the elevator?”

You turn to face him, revealing the railing behind you. As though fishing for a compliment, your voice is filled with pride. “I recently discovered that I’m not scared if I hold this~”

To your surprise, Gavin doesn’t look as happy as you expected. He even looks a little... conflicted?

“Mm, you’re amazing.” Gavin compliments in his usual style.

“But I hope that whenever I’m around, your sense of security would come from me.”

[ LUCIEN ]

You’re wondering how to extricate your hand from Professor Lucien’s in an inconspicuous, fluid manner. Holding his hand is pretty nice, but it’s really warm. 

Your little finger furtively pushes his thumb, and is released. The other three fingers gripped in his palm quietly slip in the direction of your little finger. Only your forefinger is left before you can be completely free...

Your forefinger is pinched tightly. He unfurls his hand, then encases all of your fleeing fingers back into their original positions. 

“Is my Little Butterfly thinking of leaving me?” Lucien’s voice is dyed with a hint of dejection. His eyelashes are lowered, covering the look in his eyes. The hand gripping yours refuses to budge.

“No, no, it’s just a little warm!” You explain immediately, afraid that he’d misunderstand. “I promised that I'd never leave you.”

He adjusts the strength of his grip, such that it neither hurts nor is it as easy for you to escape.

His lips tremble, and he speaks softly. “Each time we take the elevator, the descending sensation makes me feel like this isn’t real. As long as I hold your hand tightly, I can feel that you’re truly by my side.”

Your heart aches. Although Lucien is seemingly perfect, he’s someone who lacks a sense of security.

You forcefully stuff your fingers into his hand, but your tone is imbued with a contrasting gentleness. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

[ KIRO ]

Kiro loves holding your hand in the elevator. Even if he meets a familiar face, he doesn’t care. No matter what, he won’t let go.

You know that Kiro’s afraid of ghosts. But you doubt that he’s afraid of elevators too, which is why you plan to release his hand in the elevator to gauge his reaction.

You act without delay.

Before entering the elevator, you grip four of Kiro’s fingers. Not letting him hold you back would make it easier to let go afterwards.

As usual, Kiro lifts his head to watch the gradually descending numbers on the elevator. When he doesn’t notice, you quietly release his hand.

“Miss Chips?” Kiro glances at his empty hand, then gives you a wide-eyed stare. “You’ve gotten over your fear of taking elevators?”

?

“When have I been scared of taking the elevator?”

He laces his fingers with yours, raising them up in front of you. “You always hold me this tightly when we’re on the elevator. I thought you were afraid of taking them.”

“I thought you were afraid of taking them.” The case is solved. Two silly people have been wanting to give the other party a sense of security, which is why they’ve been gripping each other tightly in the elevator every time. 

“Miss Chips, let’s continue holding each other next time, okay?” Kiro blinks at you in anticipation.

“Sure~”

[ SHAW ]

While scrolling through the internet, you come across a clip of a lady who deliberately flung her boyfriend’s hand away in the elevator. The boyfriend reacted in an incredibly wholesome way. Given Shaw’s personality, you think that he definitely wouldn’t coax you in such a considerate manner. What happens in such clips are lies. Shaw, who complains about both the land and sky, is reality.

But you still want to see his reaction.

Returning home after a late night at Live House, the two of you are the only ones in the elevator of the residential building, which makes it easier to carry out your plan. You let go of his hand quietly, secretly watching Shaw’s reaction.

Mm, there’s no reaction.

Dissatisfied, you swing your arm wildly, deliberately bumping it against his.

He finally reacts, giving you a frown. “What are you doing?! Having a spasm?”

How can one crush another person’s skull?

With a cold ‘hmph’, you give him a punch on the hand that he’s stuffed into his pocket, so that your hint wouldn’t be that obvious.

“Tch. You want to hold my hand that badly?” Shaw responds with a teasing glance.

“No I don’t!” You huff while shooting him a glare. You face away, not wanting to talk to him.

Your clenched fist is encased by a large hand. “But I want to.”

-

More translated and original works: here

–

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

#mlqc #cheri shortcake

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slashers / Horror Villains as: Animated (Children’s) Movie Villain Songs

+ A Nightmare Before Christmas 

First of all, its mostly Disney. Second of all, I hope you know that this was a struggle for me. 

Also, note, Bubba will be the only Leatherface in this post and Billy and Stu will be the only Ghostfaces. There is Norma Bates though, so sort of a consolation. 

There are links to videos on YouTube ^^

~~~

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher / Ghostface: Playing With the Big Boy’s Now (Hotep and Huy, Prince of Egypt) 

Well... they’re part of the ‘big boys’, now! They are part of the Slashers group that, uh, ‘inspired them’. Imagine instead of Egyptian Gods, they’re chanting Slasher names. 

[HUY] Pick up your silly twig, boy [HOTEP & HUY] You're playing with the big boys now! Ha ha ha ha!

[EGYPTIAN PRIESTS] By the power of Ra Mut, Nut, Khnum, Ptah Sobek, Sekhmet, Sokar, Selket Anubis, Anukis Hemsut, Tefnut, Meshkent, Mafdet... 

Chop Top and Nubbins + Bubba Sawyer / Leatherface: Kidnap Mr Sandy Claws (Lock, Shock and Barrel, Nightmare Before Christmas) 

I mean... they aren't Drayton’s minions, but they are like this XD 

I say that we take a cannon, aim it at his door And then knock three times And when he answers Sandy Claws will be no more

Yes you're so stupid, think now If we blow him up to smithereens We may lose some pieces And then Jack will beat us black and green

Kidnap the Sandy Claws Tie him in a bag

Chucky / Charles Lee Ray: In The Dark Of The Night (Rasputin, Anastasia)

Mystical man? Check! ‘Betrayal’ (As far as he sees it)? Check. Made them pay? Check; I think Nica, Sarah and all the other families he destroys throughout the franchise can attest to that. And ‘One little girl got away’? Well Andy isn’t a girl, but yeah. Check. 

I was once the most mystical man in all Russia When the royals betrayed me they mad a mistake My curse made each of them pay But one little girl got away Little Anya, beware Rasputin's awake

Drayton Sawyer: Don’t Fall In Love (Forte, Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas) 

Its such a crochety, unessessarily rude way of describing relationships to someone! I mean, I understand completely and resonate deeply with the desire to be alone and not be responsible for anyone else, but- come on! Beast doesn't share your view! Let it go! 

Its just like Drayton’s reaction to Bubba having a crush. Super cool video too! 

As soon as your heart rules your head Your life is not your own It's hell when someone's always there It's bliss to be alone

And love of any kind is bad A dog, a child, a cat They take up so much precious time Now, where's the sense in that?

Freddy Krueger: No More Mr Nice Guy (Rothbart, Swan Princess) 

A man with an uncomfortable relationship with the main female character pretending to be normal and not homicidal for a while before unlocking more power and letting there inner bad guy loose and taking great pleasure in it? Sounds familiar. They also have a similar vocabulary- except of course Rothbart is rated G. 

I'll become that nasty, naughty, dirty, spiteful Wicked, wayward, way-delightful Bad guy I was born to be

Lyin' loathesome, never-tender Indiscreet repeat offender No more Mr Nice Guy That's not me 

Inkubus: The World’s Greatest Criminal Mind (Professor Rattigan, The Greatest Mouse Detective)

‘Inkubus’ is literally a movie about him listing all his crimes over the centuries and messing with the police force because he has a bone to pick with a detective. Sounds pretty similar to me! Listen to the song! ^^

Now comes the real tour de force Tricky and wicked, of course! My earlier crimes were fine for their times But now that I'm at it again An even grimmer plot has been simmering In my great criminal brain! 

Jason Voorhees: Despicable Me (About Gru, Despicable Me) 

I... this is all I could think of!! But the more I listen to it and read the lyrics... it f i t s Jason so well! XD Please just let this slide; I know Gru isn't really a villain but he is at the start!! Let me have this. 

Why ask why? Better yet "Why not?" Why are you marking x on that spot? Why use a blow torch isn't that hot? Why use a chainsaw? Is that all you got? Why do you like seeing people in shock? But my question to you is "Why not?" Why go to the bank and stand in line Just use a freeze gun it saves me time. I'm havin' a bad, bad day It's about time that I get my way Steam rollin' whatever I see, Huh, despicable me I'm havin' a bad, bad day If you take it personal that's okay Watch, this is so fun to see Huh, despicable me

Jennifer Check: Trust In Me (Kaa, The Jungle Book) 

She’s a succubus demon. Tempting boys into a safe-feeling, docile state so she she can strike is her thing. 

Will cease to resist Just relax Be at rest Like a bird In a nest

Trust in me Just in me Shut your eyes And trust in me

Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone: Savages (Governor Ratcliffe and the Colonizer’s parts, Pocahontas) 

Obviously, because of the (Inaccurate) historical relevance of both movies (Different time’s, same terrible prejudice,) and also because there is definitely a very cult-ish feel about both Governor Ratcliffe’s song and Buckman’s leadership. How easily they’re able to gather support from their people for the most horrible reasons. How horrifying it is to audiences and historians. 

They're only good when dead They're vermin, as I said And worse

They're savages! Savages!

Barely even human

Savages! Savages!

Drive them from our shore! They're not like you and me Which means they must be evil We must sound the drums of war!

Michael Myers: The Gospel Truth II (Muses about Hades, Hercules)

In a Disney movie, Michael would have others sing his song about him as he goes about his silent, determined walking XD 

If there's one God you don't want to get steamed up It's Hades 'Cause he had an evil plan He ran the underworld But thought the dead were dull and uncouth He was as mean as he was ruthless And that's the gospel truth He had a plan to shake things up And that's the gospel truth

Midnight Man: Oogie Boogie’s Song (Oogie Boogie, Nightmare Before Christmas)

A song about a “Gamblin’ Boogie Man” is perfect for the Midnight Man! He and Oogie could be pals. 

Woah! The sound of rollin' dice To me is music in the air 'Cause I'm a gamblin' Boogie Man Although I don't play fair It's much more fun, I must confess When lives are on the line Not mine, of course, but yours, old boy Now that'd be just fine

Norma Bates: Mother Knows Best Reprise (Mother Gothel, Tangled)

Norma is soooooo so so so unbelievably manipulative towards Norman (And Dylan. It just works better on Norman) and this song absolutely presents that. She can go from sweet, loving mother to spiteful, heinous bitch in two seconds if Norman or Dylan don't do what or react the way she wants them to. 

Likes you? Please, Rapunzel, that's demented

This is why you never should have left! Dear, this whole romance that you've invented, Just proves you're too naive to be here Why would he like you? Come on now, really! Look at you, you think that he's impressed? Don't be a dummy Come with mummy

Pamela Voorhees: My Lullaby (Zira, The Lion King 2)

In a opposite approach to a villainous mother to Norma, we have Pam, who was heartbroken by the camp councillors letting her son die and vowed to get revenge. She didn't know she was teaching Jason to be the Crystal Lake killer like Zira did, but she did, and the whole song does have her kind of feel to it also. 

Sleep, my little Kovu Let your dreams take wing One day when you're big and strong You will be a kingI've been exiled, persecuted Left alone with no defense When I think of what that brute did I get a little tense But I dream a dream so pretty That I don't feel so depressed 'Cause it soothes my inner kitty And it helps me get some rest

Patrick Bateman: Cruella De Vil (Arthur, 101 Dalmations) 

Never before was there a song that described audiences reaction to watching Patrick living in his daily life and hearing his thoughts better then this one. 

Cruella De Vil Cruella De Vil If she doesn't scare you No evil thing will To see her is to Take a sudden chill Cruella, Cruella De Vil

The curl of her lips The ice in her stare All innocent children Had better beware She's like a spider waiting For the kill Look out for Cruella De Vil

Pennywise (Both): You’re Only Second Rate (Jafar, Return of Jafar)

Mostly for the video and Jafar’s energy in this scene actually XD So many transformations, so many tasteless puns! I was going to give this to Freddy but its the closest thing to Penny I could think of. 

Go ahead and zap me with the big surprise Snap me in a trap, cut me down to size I'll make a great escape It's just a piece of cake You're only second rate You know your hocus-pocus isn't tough enough And your mumbo-jumbo doesn't measure up Let me pontificate upon your sorry state You're only second rate

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt: Hellfire (Judge Claude Frollo, Hunchback of Notre Dame) 

A nasty filthy man who think’s he’s in the right despite being the biggest creep and monster ever? Mhm. 

*Note: I honestly didn't notice the deformed baby, Quasimodo/Thomas link until the day after I wrote this. Don't know how I feel about it. I mean, Hoyt is actually nice, in his way, to Thomas so the connection isn't totally there but onwards:

Beata Maria You know I am a righteous man Of my virtue I am justly proud

Beata Maria You know I'm so much purer than The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd 

End of Post! 🌼

(Bonus’ under the cut) 

I did think of other connections which I obviously didnt landed on but still have merit! Here! 

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher: ‘Gaston’ was considered, but that would have just been a joke XD I don’t think Stu is quite as obsessed with Billy as LeFou is with Gaston. 

Chucky: Friends on the Other Side. Obviously! That link was actually what inspired me to make this post. In The Dark of Night fits to a T though. 

Freddy Krueger: You’re Only Second Rate! Ah, its perfectttt. But No More Mr Nice Guy fits better. If I ever do a Slashers as Disney Villains post, he’ll be Jafar for sure. Or Hades. Or Scar. Or Oogie. Probably Hades. You know what? Without the gore and blood and explicit sexual references, Freddy could be a Disney Villain himself. Its not like Disney hasn't towed the line before with perverted villains. >_> (Jafar and Frollo) 

Jason and Pamela Voorhees: Mother Knows Best! Of course. 

Jennifer Check: Love is For Peasants (Barbie Island Princess) Because Jennifer thinks like this: 

Men? <<< Literally anything else. 

Patrick Bateman: How Can I Refuse? (From Barbie Princess and the Pauper) XD If Patrick were a kids movie villain, he would totally join the ranks of corrupted usurpers pretending to be trustworthy royal advisory staff. Also ‘Let It Die’, that little interruption part of another song that O’Hare sings in the Lorax and ‘How Bad Can I be?’. 

#Sheriff Hoyt #Charlie Hewitt #Pennywise #Patrick Bateman #Pamela Voorhees #Norma Bates #Midnight Man #Michael Myers #Mayor Buckman #Granny Boone #Jennifer Check #Jason Voorhees #Inkubus #Freddy Krueger #Drayton Sawyer #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Chop Top Sawyer #Bubba Sawyer #Nubbins Sawyer #Disney Villain Songs #Disney Villains #Disney Songs #Horror Villains #Slashers #Slashers / Horror Villains as: Animated (Children’s) Movie Villain Songs

[notmrskennedy]

Professor, pt 1

A/N - so i heard from like four of you which is enough to warrant me posting drafts that weren’t supposed to see the light of day - ANYWAY this was originally written in third person and let me tell you it takes a ridiculous amount of effort to change tenses like holy hell. 

(Technically the prequel Friendliness but can stand alone if you really want it to. There’s a part two to this so watch out for that tomorrow.)

Summary - Spencer meets a professor and falls in love for a few hours

W/C - 2k

Warnings - none-ish? there’s a small smattering of violence and horrible changing of the tenses 

-----

Spencer can’t help the irony that he’s in a freshman college class for the first time ever while protecting one of the students. Who knew that a tiny club of DnD players could incite so much rage out of an un-sub? So here he was, trying to blend in—even though he’s 25, he still looks 14 and there’s really no real reason why he should be worried about being caught—in order to protect a freshman who was more pimple than male specimen. 

Joesph—the poor kid in question—takes a seat in the front row and Spencer’s obligated to sit within tackling distance, though he hopes it won’t come to that. Hopefully, Morgan will have the kid the un-sub goes for and Spencer can just enjoy being in college again. The painfully familiar auditorium seats, the stale air, and bad fluorescents feel more like home than he cares to admit. 

College hadn’t been all too unpleasant. High school he’d gotten picked on mercilessly. College, however, had meant getting doted on by hot sorority girls and earning the protection of frat boys—they’d picked up rather quickly that he knew football strategy better than they did after Spencer had hustled a TV and 400 dollars from them. Sure, he didn’t drink, but every single drunk teenager had welcomed him with open arms and lots of ginger ale. 

There’s chatter and for the ten minutes before class starts, Spencer is torn between trying to figure out which song is quietly playing around the room and watching for a particularly rage-filled college student serial killer. Instead, he just finds too many bored faces. Most of the kids are drinking coffee like the best of them and he’s itching for his next fix just looking at it. 

The first two rows: a terrible vantage point to be profiling, but a beautifully defensible post. He watches absently as one of the TAs, who looks a little younger than him, organizes three stacks of papers on the front desk and flips through several different pages on the podium. His attention is focused solely on you for nearly a minute too long—he can hear the voice in his head chastising him for how often he gets distracted by pretty people. 

You look of the fragile sort, the in-the-lab kind of future scientist. There’s something about you that’s captivating. It might be the way you keep reorganizing the papers to perfection or maybe it’s the way you study the room so closely. And while he thinks that you might not be able to physically stop someone, you sure look like the kind of person that could crush him in chess. 

He’s 25 and is considering chess as a marriage proposal.  

Joesph shuffles his books around in the seat in front of Spencer and you, the beautiful TA in question, hold a watch up as you move to the centre of the room. Class is starting. Class is starting and he’s hopeful the professor never actually shows up. 

He notices your watch is on your right wrist—are you left handed?—as you smile widely and clap her hands together. First day jitters seem to keep everyone silent, waiting on baited breath for you to start. Spencer would stay on baited breath for the rest of his life for you. You were utterly captivating after all—he could see the drool from several students’ mouths a few seats over. 

“This is Anthropology 101,” you announce. “If this isn’t your class, you’re free to leave. Or stay if you want. Did you guys know that anxiety disorders affect more than 40 million US adults? Or 1 in 5, I guess, if you want the easier pill to swallow.”

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat and he wants to raise his hand just to ask you to marry him. 

“Anyway,” you sigh, leaning back agains the front desk, “I spit out a lot of facts. Usually something that begins with ‘did you know’ won’t be on the tests. I try to be fair. Which brings us to ice breakers.”

The class collectively groans. You scoff. 

“Oh hush, I’m the only one doing the ice breakers so chill out. Jeez.” Spencer waits patiently for your soft breath and then your further announcement of, “I’m officially Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, but that’s like only if my boss comes in or for any emails you send. You can call me Y/N because that’s like normal. I got my doctorate in forensic anthropology a year ago and I’ve been teaching since I started grad school three years ago. You’re in safe hands, I promise.”

He almost kicks himself. You’re the professor. How many times had he been nearly kicked out of a classroom when he was in grad school for saying he was the professor? How many times had he been 18 and trying to get an ounce of respect for himself? 

You continue, waving your hands about like you could pull your ideas back down to earth. “Um—a fun fact about me is that I am not welcome in certain parts of the world for ‘violating’ what are called exhumation laws, which is silly in my opinion. I had the legal right to carry that head on the plane and—and I hope you did the reading because there’s a first day pop quiz.”

The entire class lets out one simultaneous frustrated whine that alights something almost wicked in your eyes. You wave over two students from the other end of the front row and they begin passing out test papers as you explain. 

“You’ll have a total of fifteen minutes to answer ten questions. We’ll start on my mark. If you have any trouble, give me a shout and I’ll help you out. After this, we’ll go over the syllabus and if you’re lucky, leave early.”

Spencer’s passed a test and immediately notices there’s no place for a name. Just a bolded “Student #21” at the top. Another girl raises the question and you snicker. “I like puzzles,” is the only answer you give before the time starts. 

Question four: what are the top three songs you’ve been listening to? Please list.

Question six: why are you taking this class?

A: This is a requirement

B: I heard it was easy

C: I heard the professor was hot

D: I really enjoy anthropology! (liar)

Question nine: Creationism or Evolution?

Question ten: Quickly. If you were going to have dinner, would it be with Bill or Hillary Clinton?

Spencer can’t hide the grin he’s got the entire test. It’s all ridiculous get-to-know-you questions. He can tell what merit you’re getting out of them. There’s one judging study habits, one judging religion, feminism, politics—you’ve created her own little innocuous questionnaire. Spencer was sure the students would just think you were strange, but he saw the cleverness. 

Spencer also notices that once you notice him, you don’t stop noticing him. He wonders what you see. You’re so obviously profiling him that it hurts. Do you see the FBI agent? The scholar? The doctor? The drug addict? The man in a boy’s skin?

Your timer beeps and you shout for pencils down. Your makeshift TAs are dispatched to collect the papers and you make the stacks perfect when they make it to the desk. You move to the whiteboard, a set of papers clutched in your hand, and lean against it to address the class. 

“Test go alright?” your grin is contagious and Spencer can’t help but mirror it. You glance at Spencer, turns back to the class, and tuck your hair behind your ear. You let the class chatter on for a moment, setting the papers down on the table, and readjust the undone cuffs of your white button down. He never thought that a sweater vest and jeans could look so hot. 

You smirk and check your watch one more time. “Let’s talk about tests because I know you all have questions. Everything on the test is either written on the board, on the notes, or in the study guide—if you fail after that, come to office hours. I’ve got Advil for the hangovers.”

#

Thankfully, Joesph is one of those students who has to speak to every single one of his professors. Spencer waits patiently behind the kid, trying to keep the smell from the lack of deodorant just out of range. 

He keeps a hard gaze on all of the students moving in and out of the auditorium. There’s nothing to see, just a lot of students with a lot of normal college apathy. No anger, no serial killer, no one to tackle. 

“Sometimes the BO is worse than a corpse’s expulsion of gas,” you joke from your place atop the desk. Spencer looks up, and furrows his eyebrows as his brain processes. Your face falls for a split second, but your curiosity replaces it just as quickly. Joesph’s jaw hits the floor, stumbling for some way to explain himself or maybe some half decent way to insult the pretty professor. 

Spencer laughs, probably a little more than he should have, considering he wasn’t supposed to out himself as an FBI agent. You tuck your hair behind your ear again and, for someone younger than 25, you are surprisingly wide eyed with perception and curiosity. 

“Do you like puzzles, Doctor—“

“Reid,” he supplies, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Spencer.”

You raise an eyebrow, chewing on your bottom lip in contemplation. You turn your focus back to Joesph—a boy worse at talking to those scoring higher than an 8 than Spencer was at the same age. “So, Joesph, why does the good doctor need to be within tackling distance of you?”

Joesph flounders, turns to hide his blush, and yelps like God himself has come down to kick him in the ass. Spencer takes one good look at the 18 year old girl charging towards a pimple of a boy and he launches before he can give much consideration to how much its going to hurt. 

But between the noticing and the launching, he makes a list: she’s got so much black eyeliner that Emily’s high school yearbook photos would be jealous; she’s about to inflict about a 9 on the pain scale if she’s left to her plan; there’s obviously no plan other to scratch Joesph’s eyes out; her nails are the size of tiger claws and Spencer desperately wishes he had a better pain tolerance; there’s no weapon. 

The tackle takes seconds. It’s a practised movement. Roll. Knee. Handcuffs. The girl is screaming and crying and kicking and biting. His arm’s on fire and she’s struggling enough that it’s taking more than ten seconds to get the handcuffs on. 

It’s calculated as he presses his knee harder into her back. She yelps and stills long enough that Spencer closes the handcuffs on her tiny, sliced up wrists. The cutting explains some things…

“Hence the tackling distance,” You sum up, bending down just slightly to look the killer in the face. Your nose wrinkles. “You had very distinct ideas on the cultural value of suicide.”

Spencer shakes his head, hauls the girl to her feet, and beckons for Joesph to follow. The entire world falls out of view as he manhandles the girl into an easy walk. The students step to the side to gawk, and he’s thankful for the wide berth. If someone got hurt, the paperwork alone—

“It was nice meeting you, Dr. Reid!” you call and he glances back over his shoulder. You’re waving around the stack of papers in your arms, utterly ridiculous, terribly adorable. He hopes his smile is more suave than love sick, but the fleeting flirtation is especially over when Miss Unchecked Rage kicks out as Joesph comes into her line of sight. 

Spencer throws his whole weight into keeping her down. There’s no room to fall in love after a day. Especially with someone on a college campus halfway across the country from him. There’s even less room to manoeuvre Miss Eyeliner even without Joesph waddling into her eye line every few seconds. Seriously, he thinks, how hard is it to keep behind me?

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #reid #reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

[forever-rogue]

A Good Man - Part 3

A/N: Hi friends, so I have a confession to make. I am a liar, a dirty, filthy liar because I said this would be 3 parts. Yeah, no, it’s gonna be more than that. I’m aiming for 5. But you never know apparently. So! Enjoy part 3 :) As always, comments and feedback is welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged let me know! xx

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Reader

Word Count: 7.4k (oops?)

Warnings: yearning, oh so much yearning; sm**ches

A GOOD MAN ‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Opening the brightly colored box of tea, you held it up to your nose and let the warm citrus and spice notes overwhelm your senses. Humming softly in content, you pulled out one of the sachets and delicately placed it into your favorite teacup, figuring that only the best would do. You read the back of the box, finishing just as the kettle started whistling on the stove top.

Grabbing it, you filled up your cup and made sure the bag was fully submerged, debating on adding just a drop of honey, but quickly decided against it and put the little bear shaped container back into the cupboard. Picking the cup up, you were planning on high tailing it back to your room, to avoid any sort of questioning from Sarah. She would surely be home at any time now, and you wanted to avoid any confrontation. 

"That's an impressive new collection of teas," her voice startled you so much that you almost sloshed the tea all over yourself. You had been so wrapped up in your preparation that you hadn't heard her come in at all...or she'd been extra quiet to try and catch you up to something, almost as if she could sense something was up.

"Yes," you gave her a dismissive look and made it a point to avoid her eyes as you tried to sweep past her.

You just knew she wouldn't let it go. No - that was not her style at all.

"These are all...uncommon," she commented and you swallowed the lump in your throat, "isn't that one tea shop in Austin the only place that sells this?"

"Huh, yeah, maybe so," you knew exactly where they were from. You'd paid the place a few visits yourself over the years; that's how you know the significance of the gift, "look, I've got a lot of homework to do, and this paper to finish up."

"When did you have time to go and get these?" you stopped dead in your tracks as you quickly tried to think of an excuse, a reason, somehow you could have gotten the teas without her knowing. And she knew damn well that you had been home all weekend, working away on various projects and your paper for Javier's class that you were determined to make perfect.

"It was a delivery," it was a quick lie, the first one that came to mind. You turned around and gave her a nonchalant shrug, "it was here when I got home a little bit ago. My mom sent them over, thought it was a nice treat."

"Your mom stopped over in Austin and sent them to you?" she could tell you were getting close to snapping, but was going to keep pushing and pushing until you broke, or she dragged the truth out of you, "and wrapped them with a ribbon? Where's the shipping box?"

"I threw it out already..."

Her hands were on her hips as she stared you down with a cocked eyebrow, your name rolling off of her tongue in an accusatory tone, "where did you get the teas?"

"Sarah, stop," you tried to be firm; resolute. Instead it sounded more like a plea than anything else, "it's nothing."

"If it's nothing, then tell me where you got these," her ocean gaze was searing as you let out a long breath and bowed your head slightly.

"Javi," you finally admitted, letting his nickname hang in the air for a few long, pregnant pauses, "they're from Javi."

"Holy shit," she said after a few moments, but all you could do was nod as you stared at your feet. It didn't sound so...normal when it was finally out in the air. Maybe you had both overstepped your boundaries. But, even if you did, you couldn't really find it in your heart to care, "he really likes you. Or he's got absolutely way too much free time on his hands."

"Should I not have accepted?" you felt silly, almost like a child getting scolded for doing something naughty. But you were both consenting adults, and neither of you had technically done anything wrong, "h-he had it waiting for me at my desk. I didn't know what else to do."

After the class had ended, and you'd spent the lecture basically staring at Javi and vice versa, you'd been determined to go and speak to him. But instead, your nerves had only increased as the time went on and you weren't even sure what to say, where to begin. Instead, you hastily packed up your bag and left along with everyone else, keeping yourself hidden in the zombie horde of other students. You'd felt guilty about it since, and hoped Javier wouldn't take offense...maybe he'd just think you had somewhere else to be right away.

"No, no, no babes," Sarah could practically hear the gears turning in your head as you thought of every negative outcome, every bad possibility, "that's not what I meant. I just meant that...obviously, there’s something to this all. Think about it - you don't just go out of your way like to keep up something special for someone you don't give a shit about. You know?"

"Yeah," you agreed as you set the cup down on the counter and ran a hand through your hair, "I know. It's just...I feel like that I like him...as more than a professor. Its definitely a crush, and I still barely know the man, but..."

"But you want to," she easily concluded as you groaned and threw your head back, staring at the ceiling as if you were begging it for answers, "there’s nothing wrong with that. You're just two people who happened to meet a certain way. Imagine if he was man that you'd met out one day, like a bookshop or while getting a coffee. You wouldn't be having reservations then, would you?"

"Most likely not."

"Then think of it that way," she insisted, stealing your cup and taking a sip of the sweet tea. She instantly made a face that suggested it was delicious, "just because he's a professor-"

"My professor!"

"Doesn't mean it has to be weird," she insisted, "in a few months he won't be your professor any more, and by the end of the school year you won't be a student anymore. Think of it like that."

"What if, and this is a big if, something were to happen between us, then what? He could lose his job," you couldn't think of doing that to him, no matter how much he didn't care about the position. It would never sit right with you, "I'm not...going to do that."

"Babes, nothing is going to happen," Sarah promised as she pushed the tea back towards you, "you don't even know his true feelings yet, although I believe my suspicions are correct. Talk to him, and see where it goes."

"I wish it was that simple," you took the mug and finally tasted the tea for yourself. It was divine; you wondered how carefully he'd chosen this particular kind, "I feel like I'm over complicating things."

"You are," she gently tapped your head and caused you both to laugh, "a classic over thinker...next time you see him, just go and talk to him. Everything will be fine."

"I could just call him," you murmured under your breath, more to yourself than anything else, but Sarah much have had supersonic hearing because her mouth had just about fallen to the floor.

"Excuse me?!"

"He...he gave me his number," your cheeks were surely a brilliant shade of crimson by now, feeling hotter than ever, "when I went to see him last week. He told me to call him if I needed help with my paper."

"Help with your...oh hell no," she was almost jumping with excitement at the revelation, "he totally didn't give you his number so you could call if you needed help. We all know exactly why he did it."

"Ummm...." you were at a loss for words, staring at the tea and the playing with the string attached to the sachet, "I guess not."

"Call him," she insisted firmly, "call him."

"Yeah?" you asked and she fervently nodded, her curls bouncing wildly. You bit the inside of your cheek as you slid off the stool and grabbed the tea, "maybe I will. But do not, and I mean this, do not listen in."

"Scout's honor," she gave you the three finger salute as you marched off to your bedroom, practically shaking with nerves at the possibility of calling Javier. Before you could close your bedroom door you heard her shout, "good luck!"

You could do this. You totally could. No if, ands, or buts about it. It was just going to be a friendly conversation ti thank him for the more than generous gift he had given. Right? Right.

Then why did you feel so damn nervous?

Your hands were practically shaking as you sat at your desk, pulling the phone towards you. Catching your reflection in the window, you let out a sigh at yourself and how panicked you looked, almost like a little deer caught in headlights. It was dark already, a small rainstorm had started earlier; the perfect environment for a cup of tea.

Picking up the receiver, you dialed Javier's number; you were almost embarrassed that you had it memorized it already, having repeated it to yourself so many times over the weekend. Pathetic, you bemoaned yourself, a pathetic girl with a silly little crush.

Once you dialed the number, you held the phone close to your ear waiting for baited breath to see if he would even answer. Maybe he didn't answer calls from unknown numbers. Maybe it could go to his voicemail. Would you even leave a voicemail? Should you? Should you have called from a blocked number? There were so many things spewing through your mind.

It rang and rang, seemingly endlessly, by just before you were about to hang up and let it go, he answered. His voice was still as warm and rich over the phone as it was in real life and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine as you listened to him say, "hello?"

"J-Javi? It's me," you said in almost a rush as you realized that he might not realize who me was. You sighed quietly as you said your name, wondering if you should cut your losses and hang up already.

"Hey," he seemed to relax slightly when he realized it was you, "how are you? Everything's okay, right?"

You tried not to grin from ear to ear at his question, mentally calming yourself down, "yeah, Javi, everything's fine. I just...wanted to thank you. For the tea. Its wonderful, truly, and I can only imagine the trouble you must have gone through to get it. I appreciate it, I'm drinking one actually, the citrus spice one, and its delicious."

"It was nothing," he promised but for some reason you couldn't help but think it was a lot more then that. It definitely was; if only you could have seen his face when he'd heard you say his name, "I just wanted to thank you."

"Whatever for?"

"Being the one student I've had in three years that gives a damn about the class," he said and you couldn't hold back your laugh. He liked that sound - he liked it a lot, "you don't know what it's like to go through this same bullshit all the time. Its nice to get a break from the routine, the norm."

"Thank you for helping me," it was weak trade off, but you were happy to give it to him. You were happy to listen to that warm, rich timbre any time, to watch those honeyed, syrupy eyes any time, "I appreciate you giving me your time. And I'm sorry for running out the way I did earlier.”

"Why?" he asked softly as he waited for your response with baited breath. He desperately hoped that he hadn’t scared you off for whatever reason, or come on too strongly, "why did you leave?"

"I wish I had a good answer for you," you cradled the receiver between your shoulder and ear, nervously twisting the cord between your fingers, "I got nervous. So I just left...I just...it wasn't you, or anything."

"Do I make you nervous?" Javi sounded almost...nervous himself. Worried? There was a quality to it that you hadn't heard before.

"No, not really," you admitted. It wasn’t Javi himself that made you nervous or anxious, it was all the ideas or possibilities or what could, of what this could turn into. You just hoped that you weren't about to make a fool out of yourself. How were you supposed to face the rest of the semester if you were completely wrong about this? You squeezed your eyes shut as you mulled over your next words carefully, trying to figure out what to say, "its just...I hope I'm not reading this wrong. Or making something out of nothing."

There was a sharp inhale of breath on the other side and you could just picture him, sitting at home, frustrated looked on his face. After a few moments of tense silence, you heard him again, "what do you think this is? What do you what it to be?"

"Javi..." you let his name hang in the air, trying to get your point across without needing to expand. Letting out a shaky breath you thought about just hanging up then and there. But no. You were already in too deep, "I...don't want to be just your student."

There was a tangible shift between the two of you as the air remained silent for some time. All you heard was a few shaky breathes on his end. You wished, desperately so, that you could see what was going on in his mind. Little did you know, Javier was sitting there, his stack of papers now long forgotten as he tried to retain his composure. He ran a hand over his tired face, almost wishing he hadn't asked, almost wishing you hasn't told him what he wanted to hear. This wasn't part of his plan. This wasn't how he was supposed to be a good man.

"Javi?" just when you couldn't handle the still, tension feeling hanging in the air, his name came out almost like a pathetic whimper.

"Are you free this weekend?" he blurted the question, not letting himself linger too much on it before he changed his mind, "maybe we could go and get a tea?"

A blush blossomed in your cheeks at his question, your stomach erupting in butterflies at the sheer concept of spending time with him outside of school. You realized you were nodding silently, before finding the proper words, "I'm free this weekend. I'd like that...a lot. Maybe we can even settle and get a coffee instead."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you almost whispered into the phone. Your voice was so soft and quiet that almost weren’t sure anything came out. But then you heard a soft sigh, almost like a relieved breath on the other side. 

"Great," he couldn't believe that this was happening, couldn't believe that he was getting nervous over all of this, like a schoolboy. He’s been out with countless women in the past, seemingly nothing phased him, but here he was, genuinely terrified, but excited at the prospect of what could be. He bit his bottom lip before deciding to make sure his intentions were crystal clear, "then it's a date..."

"Yeah," you agreed, begging yourself not to sound too eager or excited, “it’s a date. How about Saturday around one? I can meet you at the old cafe near the other side of town? I forget the name, but it’s the only decent one in town and they’ve got pretty good coffee.”

“You’re sure you don’t want the tea?” he joked and you felt some of the tension and nerves subside. This would be fine, everything would be.

“Positive,” you promised, “we’ll get tea next time.”

Your promise of a next time, that you were confident enough to think this could go somewhere was enough to make him realize that maybe this wasn’t a horrible decision after all, “how does that sound?”

“I’ll see you then,” you twist the cord of the phone so tightly, trying not to completely freak out. You had a date with Javier Pena. Granted, it was only an afternoon meet up for coffee, but a date was a date, and he’d confirmed it, “have a good night, Javi.”

“You too,” how was his voice this dreamy? You could listen to it for hours and hours, even if he would have been recited the phone book to you. Hell, you practically did that in his class every week anyways. You couldn’t wait to hear it, with no restraints, no pressures from being in your roles as teacher and student. To get to see him, just him, as he was, “good night.”

Slowly, almost reluctantly, you put the receiver back in its cradle, leaned back and staring at the ceiling. Holy shit. You had actually just agreed to a date...with your professor. 

Before you could actually think too much about it, your bedroom door slammed open and Sarah burst in, ambushing you from behind and you squealing into your ear. Your face warmed up as you realized that she already knew.

“Sarah!” you moaned at her, trying to hide your face out of pure embarrassment, “I told you not to listen in on my call!”

“I didn’t listen to your call,” she insisted, “I just sat outside your door and listened to your end of the conversation. That’s not technically listening in on the call, because I didn’t hear his end of the conversation.”

“Of course,” you playfully nudged her, “you would find the one loophole.”

“What can I say?” she seemed very proud of herself indeed, “I’m a pro. But you! Can you believe? A date with a hot professor. What a dream!”

“Please,” you grabbed her arm and looked at her with wide eyes, “don’t so much as breath a word of this to anyone. I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea or anything.”

“I would never,” she promised, “your secret is safe with me, babes. But, I will expect a full report after your date.”

“Maybe...”

“I’m your best friend!” she pouted, “it’s girl code, practically the law!” 

“We’ll see...”

“You can’t bone the hottest professor on campus and not tell me!”

“SARAH.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Javier," Chucho shook his head at his son, watching as sweat dripped off of his face and neck. Javier spared him a quick glance, finishing up the fence post he was working on before wiping the sweat from his brow and catching his breath. He'd been helping his father to fix up his fence all afternoon, virtually wordless, but glad to be at his father's ranch again. Stevie had been ecstatic to come along, running around all afternoon and studying the various animals around the ranch and trying to play with them.

Javi had the day off, a rare occurrence these days, and decided to make the most of it, leaving early in the morning to make the several hour drive to Laredo. It had been some time since he'd seen his father, and he'd been itching to spend some time with him. He was completely breaking through every other one of his normal routines, why not do this as well? Despite being a man long grown, he still often turned to his father for his advice, and general comfort when be really he needed.

"What's up, Pops?" his hands went to his hips as Chucho came over and offered him a cold bottle of water.

"You've been working out here all day, barely said a word," he noted and Javi shrugged at his father's concern laced with all sorts of silent accusations, "are you going to come in and talk to me, mijo? Or are you just going to stay out here for the rest of evening?"

"I don't know what you're talking about papá," he wasn't even sure why he was lying to his father. He could read him like a book, almost better than anyone else. Chucho raised an eyebrow at him but shook his head, turning to go back inside. He beckoned for Javier to follow, which he begrudgingly did, feeling like he was a small boy again, about to be scolded for something or other.

"I made tamales," a little spring suddenly appeared in his step at the thought. He never bothered to cook extravagant meals or anything fancy for himself, so he was always glad to come home and get a warm, delicious meal, "your mama's recipe."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javi piled his plate high with the delicious foods, gratefully accepting a cold beer from Chucho as he sat across the table from him. Before he could even get the first bite into his mouth before being interrupted.

"So, mijo, what's on your mind?" Javi groaned inwardly as he set his fork back down. He clasped his hands and rested his chin on them as he tried to figure how, and what, to tell him.

"Can't I just want to come and see you, papá,?" he asked with a noncommittal shrug as Chucho's brown eyed gaze remained fixated on him.

"Absolutely, you're always welcome," he answered, "but I am your father. I've known you since birth. I know when you've got something on your mind. Que pasa?"

"Papá,," he shoved a huge bite into his mouth and chewed on it, mulling over his words, "I'm just...I guess...thinking about things a lot lately."

"Colombia?"

"Sí," he swallowed his mouthful and slumped slightly in his seat, "there are times when it still hits me. At night, more than anything. I just can't help but think I could have done it all so much better. Cleaner. Less blood on my hands."

"What you did wasn't easy, mijo, it was never going to be," his tone was softer but Javier refused to acknowledge it. He'd gotten this speech at least ten times before from his father, and countless times from others, but it never made him feel better, "you did your best, you know that everyone knows that."

"I just can't help but think that things could have turned out differently," the image of Horacio Carillo killing the young boy, and countless others, without hesitation, directly in front of him were a frequent theme in his darkest dreams, "all those innocent lives that were wasted...when we were taking out Calí cartel, the wife of Franklin Jurado, you remember him right, she called me a piece of shit. She meant it, I could hear it in her voice. Sometimes I think she was right."

"You are not a piece of shit, Javier," Chucho insisted firmly, almost slamming his fist down on the table. He hated knowing that this was still plaguing his son, "you are a good man. You've done a lot of good for a lot of people. The work you did was good."

Javier scoffed at him at him as he just shook his head. He tried to be a good man, lord knows he was trying. But lately he was wondering how well he was doing that in the department, "it was a load of shit. We brought down Escobar and Calí for what? Just for more scumbags to come out and stake their claim? To show just how fucking corrupt our government and those in Colombia are? To show that that everything is completely fucked up and nothing will ever change? Yeah, I did that. It was good for a little while, soon it'll all go back to normal and nothing we ever did will matter."

"Javier," his head almost whipped up at the sound of his name, coming out so sharply from his father's mouth, "you didn't know better at the time, neither did Steve, or those two young ones you worked with in Calí. You did what you had to at the time. If you had known any different at the time, you would have it differently. You're a good man, Javi, you've always been a good boy mijito."

"I wish I could I see it that way," he took another bite, trying to get his father's words into his mind. He knew he was true, that he did his best with what he knew at the time. He always thought that the end justified the means, that sometimes in order to catch bad men you had to do bad things. But at the end of it all, he wondered if it all had been worth it. It had to be right? He had made a difference, he wanted to believe that his work wasn't for naught, "sometimes I wonder."

"Tell me, if you had know there was a different way to do things, would you have done it?"

"Of course," he nodded, taking a long drag from his beer as he wiped at his brow, "I would do whatever was best."

"Exactly," Chucho wished he could get his son to see him in the same light he saw him in. But he was hard, and he knew he could never truly know the full extent of Javier's inner torment, "there is no use ruminating on things that are in the past. You cannot change them now. You shouldn't dwell on things that are done. Your path is not behind you, it is in front of you."

"Lo sé," he agreed, finishing up the tamales on his plate and downing the rest of his beer. Even if he had a hard time believing what was he saying, it made him feel even minutely better, "it's just hard sometimes, you know?"

"I do," he agreed, "now tell, what else is on your mind? And don't tell me it's nothing, either."

Javi got up and grabbed his plate, bringing to the kitchen, rinsing it as he sat it down in the sink. He leaned against the counter as he contemplated getting himself another beer, but opted against it.

"I think..." gods, he felt like nothing more than an anxious child at this point, drumming his fingers along the aging counter top, "there's, well...I might have met someone."

"Oh?" this time Chucho almost gave himself whiplash as Javier refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing his attention on the floor, "a woman?"

"Sí," he answered.

"That's wonderful, mijo," the older man stood up and brought his own plate to the sink, and stood across from Javi. He put his hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, "you deserve someone special. Especially after you'll been through. It would be nice to know that you have someone looking out for you."

"It's a little more complicated than that, papá," he'd already told him so much, he figured that he could probably just go on and tell him the whole truth. Nothing bad would come of...or at least he hoped it wouldn't.

"Please tell me she's not married..."

"No-"

"Is she pregnant?"

"No-"

"Then what's the problem, mijo?" Javier swallowed the nervous lump in his throat as he looked up and met the gaze of those wise, dark eyes.

"She's a student," he admitted, waiting for his father to yell at him, to freak out, or something. But instead, nothing came. Only a few moments of silence as Chucho waited for him to expand, "she's in one of my classes."

"What's the problem with that?"

"She's my student...she's younger..." he shrugged his shoulders, "it just feels off, I don't know."

"She's an adult, right?" he asked as Javier nodded, adding that she was a senior, "then what is the big deal? You're both consenting adults. Then there's nothing wrong with it. If you like her, Javi, and you think she's good for you, then go for it. Just keep a level head and do what's right. You know what to do son, your mama and I raised you right."

"You don't think I'm a horrible person for being interested in a student?"

"You're not the first and you won't be the last," he stated with a laugh, "what if you had met her at the grocery store or something? Would you be experiencing this  hesitation then?"

"No...not nearly as much anyway," he admitted. The age different might still have bugged him slightly, but he knew he could get over that, "I just don't want it to seem like I'm taking advantage of her because of my position or anything."

"She sounds like a smart girl-"

"How do you know?"

"She's interested in you, right?"

Javier snorted with laughter as light flush of color rose up in his golden cheeks. Leave it to his dad to be his best friend and biggest supporter. They'd butted heads numerous times over the years, but at the end of the day, Javier loved his father most of all.

"You've got a good head on your shoulders, son," he promised, giving him a gently nudge, "just be smart and make good choices. You always do."

"Papá," Javier let a small sigh as a smile worked it's way on his face, "gracias por todo."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You sat up, bolt right, trying to catch your breath, feeling impossibly hot, despite the chilly morning. Once you realized you were awake and in your own bedroom, you laid back down and staring at the ceiling. You'd just woken up from a dream starring Professor Peña and yourself in a very compromising situation; naturally though, your mind hadn't let you get to the best part, stopping just before you managed to get him stripped of clothing.

Groaning, you rolled over and glanced at your alarm, seeing that it was still much earlier than you would have liked.

Saturday morning had rolled around much sooner than you had expected, and your stomach was in absolute knots. Maybe you could still back out now?

But no - you wanted to do this. You wanted to see Javi.

Instead of talking yourself down, you slid your legs out of the bed and decided to spend the morning relaxing and taking the time to get ready and treating yourself to some much needed relaxation. You spied the outfit you had picked out the night before hanging from the back of your closet. You wondered if it was too much, or not enough...

It was a simple floral shift dress that you planned on pairing with a pair of your favorite chucks. It was still just warm enough it sport, despite being almost fall and you vowed to take advantage of the weather for as long as you could. The dress was innocent enough, bordering on too short and maybe slightly lower cut than it needed to be, but you liked it, and you hoped he would too. Not that it mattered...but still...the idea was nice.

Before changing your mind, or thinking too much about your decisions, you stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting it get hot before jumping in and scrubbing yourself from head to toe. You just want everything to go well. This was really important to you for some reason or another.

»»————-　♡　————-««

When you arrived at the cafe, you were early, despite your best efforts not to be early. You hadn’t wanted to appear too eager, but your nerves had gotten the better of you, and found yourself out the door earlier than expected. You’d even walked, making the decent trek to the other part of town, hoping it would kill more time, but apparently there had been too much spring in your step, and you’d arrived with some time to kill. Instead of ordering your drink already, you’d walked to the back of the cozy cafe, sitting at a small table and pulling out the book you were currently reading - you always keep one in your bag for situations exactly like this. The weather had slowly shifted, and it now looked like it was about to rain; you cursed yourself for walking, but the euphoria of the moment really won over. 

You sighed lightly as you looked around, watching all sorts of different milling about, going about their days. It was calm here, quiet and cozy, just like you preferred. Turning your attention back to your books, you attempting to read the page you had last ended on...but it was proving to be a challenge, and you ended rereading the same sentence about ten times before finally getting the gist of it and moving on. 

You weren’t alone long however, but had gotten absorbed enough into the book that you hadn’t noticed Javier appear across the table from you. He reached over and gently tapped the spine of your book, captured your attention and startling you slightly. He had a smile grin on his face as he watched your eyes widen in surprise, quickly closing the book and slipping it back into your bag.

“Hi,” your voice was but a mere, breathy whisper as you tried your best not to let your cheeks flush too much, “I-I hope you weren’t trying to get my attention for too long. I didn’t even think my book was that interesting!”

“I just got here,” he admitted as he studied you, his dark eyes taking everything in, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary on your chest, something you didn’t think was too intentional. He looked good, more casual than when he was teaching but still almost unfairly handsome. He was sporting a pair of jeans that hugged him in the all the right places, accentuated nicely by the black button up with the rolled up sleeves. He wasn’t wearing glasses today, but he still looked....so good, “how long have you been here?”

“A little while,” you said sheepishly, “I got here a little early. I wasn’t waiting too long.”

“Good,” he jerked his head towards the counter, “come on - let’s go and order. You look very pretty.”

“I, ugh,” you were instantly stammering over your words, trying to remain cool and composed. Instead you found yourself spewing out, “you too.”

“You think I look pretty?” he teased, and half of you expected to be embarrassed, but instead you just rolled your eyes at him and gently shoved his shoulder. 

“You know what I meant,” you bemoaned him, as he laughed and nudged you towards the counter. The woman behind the counter glanced at the two of you for just a moment, eyes flicking between you and Javier before settling on him, and zoning in on him. You had no doubt her thoughts were immediately all consumed by him. You wanted to roll your eyes at her and her obvious attempted to capture his attention, but stopped yourself. He must get this all time; but if he did, he didn’t let it phase him, keeping his gaze trained on you instead. 

“What are you having?” she grabbed a pen to take your order, making the most obvious eyes at Javier, who just ignored and put his hand on the small of your back.

“I’ll just have a black coffee, a little bit of sugar,” he told her before looking at you, attempting to guess your order, “and she’ll have a coffee with cream and sugar.”

You looked up and shook your head lightly, “close, very close. An iced coffee with extra cream and raw sugar.”

“I was almost there,” he insisted as he reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. You attempted to grab his hand to stop him, but he moved slightly out of your reach, shaking his head at you, and you decided not to argue with him, “I’ll have it right next time.”

Next time. You really liked the sound of that.

“Whatever you say, Javi,” you said in a sing-song voice as he handed the woman behind a twenty dollar bill and told her to keep the change. He followed you over to the pick up counter. 

“Extra cream?” he said as he watched your coffee being made. You stuck out your tongue and shrugged at him, “so you’re drinking some coffee with your milk, huh? And iced? Dios mio, you might as well stick to tea at this rate. This was not how coffee was intended to be consumed.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at his mock tirade, watching his face shift through various expressions before your coffees were placed in front of you. Grabbing yours, you took a long sip and ended with an exaggerated ahh, “delicious. Better than that bitter bean water you’re drinking. Black? Do you hate yourself that much?”

“Not as much as you apparently hate yourself for drinking that poor excuse of a coffee. They would have roasted you in Colombia for that,” the last part slipped out before he could help, and he stiffened slightly, but you instantly relaxed when he noticed that you weren’t hung up on anything. You weren’t going to push him to talk about anything he didn’t want to; you’d already made that up in your mind a while ago

“That was a horrible joke,” you laughed as you slid back into your seat, and he took his place across from you. It was a small and intimate, a fireplace going somewhere near by, casting a light glow around the space and chasing away the chill from the cold, early fall day, “they would have roasted me? You should stick with your day job. And I’ll stick with my tea. I make a coffee exception once in a while, like today.”

“I don’t know how you do tea all the time,” he sighed dramatically, “I’ve been drinking that matcha I got in the mornings, but it’s just not the same.”

“You got matcha?” your eyes widened as you realized he’d taken your suggestion to heart. He took a long sip from his coffee and nodded, “it’s good though, right? Most tea is, just different from coffee. All the ones you got me are delicious...thank you for them, really. It’s such a thoughtful thing.”

“It was nothing,” he insisted, smiling so brightly that his dimple was on full display, “but I am glad you like them.”

“You should...try them sometime,” were you pushing the envelope too much? Did you really care? No, not really, “I-I have plenty, if you’re ever interested.”

“I’d be interested,” he said with a glint in his dark eyes, “I’d be very interested.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Being with Javi was easy; fun to the point where you almost never felt awkward, fun to the point where you were almost laughing the entire time, not questioning if whatever you had said was dumb or too much. He was kind, much more open and relaxed than he ever appeared in the classroom, asking you all shorts of questions about yourself, and answering whatever you wanted to know about him. Within reason. You hadn’t really broached the subject of his time with the DEA in Colombia, and while you were naturally curious, you figured if he wanted to tell you, he would. 

But it didn’t deter from the lovely afternoon you were having. He was animated, using his hands as he talked, his dark eyes expressive and lively. You liked him, how normal and easy this all seemed. You only hoped that he felt the same way about you. Little did you know that he did; he liked you very, very much. He loved how passionate you got when you talked about things you liked, how you had a habit of tapping your chin when you were searching for a word or an answer, how your eyes crinkled in the corners when you laughed, how you leaned in closer to him, listening to him and making him feel you truly cared about what he had to say.

When he realized just how much he liked your smile, he knew he was fucked. So fucked. But then again - so were you.

The day had quickly turned to evening, and it was almost completely pitch back outside. You cursed yourself for deciding to walk, knowing it would be horrible to get home. But as soon as Javier realized that you didn’t have your car, he insisted on driving you back to your apartment. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer; and frankly, you would have been loath to turn down his offer because you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. 

You gave him directions, he deemed you the worst copilot ever as you were horrible with directions, but eventually he found your place and pulled up front, turning off the car while the two of you remained in silence for a few minutes, neither of you wanting your time together to end. 

“Well,” you said finally, avoiding his eyes as you moved to open the car door, “I guess I better get going.”

“I can walk you inside,” it wasn’t a question, more like a subtle plea. Shifting in your seat, you found him watching you with a hopeful expression etched on his features. Biting your lip, something that Javier had noticed you had a tendency to do, you almost drove him crazy. If only you could see how beautiful you were. Nodding, you opened the door and stepped out, waiting for him to come to your side before walking in the direction of your apartment. 

Deliberately making each step as slow as possible, you could feel how warm he was as he walked alongside you. When you reached your front door, you sighed lightly, “well, this is me. Thank you for today...I had a really good time.”

“I did too,” he said gently, his eyes softer than you had ever seen him. You wished there was a way to convey to him just how much, how terribly much you had enjoyed his company, and how reluctant you were to say good night.

You watched each other for a few moments, feeling your heart race as neither of you made any move to leave. But then - suddenly - before you could fully process what was happening, Javier put his hand on either side of your face and crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you with intensity, a searing passion that you took your breath away. You wrapped your arms around his neck, carding a hand through his dark locks as his hands found purchase on your waist and pulled you close. 

His touch, his taste, his smell, everything combined in a way so delightful that you’d never experienced before; surely this was what sheer bliss was like. He felt perfect against you, there was no fumbling awkwardness, instead it felt like the two of you had been doing this forever. He break apart from you only when you were thoroughly breathless, feeling drunk off his kisses. 

Javier studied your face, your eyes wide and lightly swollen lips as he wondered if he’d just made a huge mistake. A million thoughts were running through his mind as he tried not to panic, and reminded him that surely, he couldn’t have read the signs all wrong. But when your expression slowly turned into a shy little smile, a warmth heating up your skin as you looked at him with the sweetest eyes, he knew he hadn’t made a mistake. He reached over you and brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face.

“Umm,” you breathed out as you rode out the euphoria of the best kiss you’d ever had, “I...wow. Javi...I had a great time today.”

“Me too,” he agreed, already beginning to miss the feel of your lips against his. He let out a small laugh, almost not believing his luck as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “I hope you have a good night, dulzura.”

“Good night, Javi,” you beamed at him as he slowly turned around to head back to his car, watching until he was just to make sure he was safe...and to admire the view of course. He gave you one last wave before you unlocked the door and stepped inside, leaning against the door and trying to calm yourself down. Despite your best efforts, a small squeal of delight pass through your lips. Bringing a hand to your lips and tapping your fingertips along them, you could tell they were plump and plush from all of his kisses. 

Holy shit. This had actually happened. This was all a reality.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog  @sheridans-dynamos   @rogerfxckingtaylor  @queenbbarnes  @persephonesnebula @spacedustmazzello  @queenlover05  @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @el-lizzie  @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen    @hiscyarika  @readsalot73  @huliabitch  @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd  @beepbeepsephy  @gooddaykate  @scarlettwitcher  @nerdyknightwritersblog  @choicesarcade  @arrowswithwifi  @everythingaboutnothingstuff  @24kgolden  @suckerfor-fanfics  @bestintheparsec @pedrosdoll  @winters-buck @javihoney  @aeryntheofficial  @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction

AGM Taglist: @misslolasworld  @mrsparknuts  @siempre-pedro​  @domino-oh-damn​  @weasleywinchester​  @wickedfrsgrl​  @fioccodineveautunnale​ @wonder-jedi​ @zoogrl05​  @annathewitch​  @thinemineours​  @prettyjewel93​ @jawabear​

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #reader insert #professor!javi #au #narcos #a good man

[vexillumalbum]

MLQC boys having a nightmare about MC part 2

Hello, everyone! As promised (although a little bit late, but still) I present to you a hcs about Lucien and Kiro from MLQC having a nightmare about MC (reader). 

I was supposed to change Lucien’s hcs a little bit but I truly have no strength to do that and because of eleven messages I've received in the past four days regarding this piece (which is awesome, thank you all for interest in my hcs!), I decided to just publish it as it is.

Still, I wanted to thank @its-mew, for her amazing support and her patience for me (I’m kinda annoying lol). Thanks to her I gained a little bit more confidence in publishing these hcs. Also, thanks to her I’m now working on a Victor series and so far it’s going amazing, so stay tuned! 

Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy.

Part one with Victor, Gavin and Shaw you’ll find here.

Lucien

It wasn’t meant to end like this. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love, not now, not ever. And certainly not with you. 

But your kindness, warmth and a heart too big for your own good attracted him to you, and after many months he found that he would never want to be separated from you

So one evening when he came home after a long day at the research center, and saw you packing your things into a suitcase and a few boxes, a part of him died. 

“Are we moving out?” He spoke as he set his papers on the table, and when your eyes fell on him, he saw nothing familiar in them - only disgust and annoyance. It almost made him shiver. 

“We? No.” You threw some of your clothes into one giant box. It took everything in Lucien not to stop you. “I am.”

“May I ask why?” On the outside he was calm and collected but inside his heart broke a little more with every word you said. Milion thoughts a minute raced through his head. For the first time professor found himself unable to properly think.

What could be the reason for your behavior? Was it something he’d done? 

“Did you really think it could work out? You disgust me, Lucien. Or Ares. Whatever you are.” You turned your back to him and laughed. “And you call me a fool. Looks like the joke’s on you.”

“Butterfly—“

“Don’t call me that. I don’t know when or where you thought that this - us - could work out but you were wrong. I don’t want you in my life. Do not ever call or text me again. Do not come to my work. The only thing you deserve, Lucien, is to be alone for the rest of your life.”

Taking your suitcase you headed for the exit not sparing him as much as a second glance. For a moment he thought about stopping you, hugging you to his chest strongly so you wouldn’t be able to leave, but a bigger part of him knew it was a bad idea. 

If you love her let her go something inside his head said.

Your figure disappeared behind the door. And with it the only color and joy in his life. Familiar pain in his chest made itself known and before he knew it he was leaning on the countertop unable to take a breath.

With sweaty palms and ragged breath Lucien woke up in the middle of the night. As he sat up, tightly clutching a hand over his heart, you stirred and tossed around a little. He was perfectly aware he just woke up from a nightmare but still he couldn’t completely shake off negative feelings. 

“Lucien?” Soft, barely audible voice came from your side of the bed. 

“Sleep, butterfly.” 

Maybe you would listen to him, if his voice weren’t so upset and distressed. You turned over and faced your boyfriend and the sight of him being in pain caused you to fully wake up. He turned to you as you sat up next to him.

Gentle hands took ahold of his face and your fingers delicately brushed the skin under his eyes. Even in the darkness of your shared bedroom Lucien was able to see the love and warmth radiating from your eyes. The complete opposite of what had been in his dream. The you here, next to him, was this kind, tender woman who he had given his heart to, you wouldn’t hurt him like that. 

“Whatever this dream was, it’s over now.” You said as one of your hands covered his, squeezing his shirt over his chest. Scooting over to him you let the warmth of your body comfort your boyfriend - it was a thing you learned from him as he would use this technique thousands of times before on you.

Lucien chuckled quietly as you fell asleep against him barely a few minutes later. Well, at least you tried

“Silly girl.” He mused lying you on top of him and covering you both with a quilt pleasantly discovering there was no pain in his body left.

Kiro

He was running in circles, he was sure about that but somehow he wasn’t able to stop. As long as he had the strength to take a breath he wasn’t going to stop. He needed to find you, talk to you, hug you, kiss you—

The sea of people now flooded the park not letting him go anywhere and he was SURE you were somewhere close. He could feel that in his bones. He was pushing through faceless people but you still were nowhere to be found. He didn't care if anyone would recognize him at that point.

The last words you’ve spoken to him were ringing in his head and he wasn’t able to properly think. Should he go to the right? Or maybe left? Where were you?! Ugh!

“It’s over, Kiro.” 

“I can’t be with someone who doesn’t have time for me.”

“It was meant to end this way. You’re no good for me.”

“There will always be something more important than me for you. I can’t do that anymore.”

Another minute passed by while he was running and running and running. Your name left his lips countless times however it didn’t matter. You couldn’t hear him because you weren’t there. You left. You left him.

“I thought you loved me, Kiro.”

“I thought you were my sun.”

Kiro fell to his knees. People kept bumping into him, touching him, rubbing their legs against his shoulders, but he remained in the same position. He was breathing heavily, blocking the tears from flowing down his cheeks. 

One last time, the blonde took a deep breath and, trying with all his might, shouted your name. But he was sure you wouldn't be able to hear him, and the name of the person Kiro loved more than life was lost somewhere in the crowd.

At the same time, people who recognized him immediately started running out of the crowd. They started yanking him, screaming his name, pulling his hair. He defended himself, but there was little he could do. His fans were ruthless. 

“Let go of me!” He shouted. 

“Let go!” 

Startled, sweaty and a little bit shaky Kiro woke up holding a pillow in his arms, clutching it tightly to his chest. Little did he know his scream also woke you up and after a few seconds you sat up, trying to get ahold of his hand in the complete darkness. You asked him what was going on but your voice didn’t get through to him because of his loud thoughts. 

When he sensed your warm fingers on his cold clammy hand, his head whipped to the side and as he was able to distinguish your features in the darkness he immediately let go of the pillow and pulled you into his arms. 

“Miss Chips, you’re here!” He beamed, his voice still a little quivery. 

“Where else should I be?” Your question stirred something inside him and he instantly pulled you away from him to be able to see your face. Even without lights on you were able to see that his eyes were watery.

“Nowhere! That’s the point! You shouldn’t be anywhere else but in my arms, you hear me, Miss Chips?” 

“Oh Kiro,” you said as your hands traveled to his hair and you started massaging his scalp - he always liked when you did it. The blonde almost purred when your nails scratched particular spot on his head. Through half lidded eyes he looked at you with admiration. “I am not going anywhere.”

“Good… That’s good.” 

“Go back to sleep, babe.” 

He fell back down on the pillows, dragging you with him while keeping your hands from leaving his hair. He pulled you to his chest with his arms, and you both fell asleep again in record time. It was safe to say that Kiro had no more nightmares that night.

____________________________________________________

thank you so much for reading!

if you want to read more of my works they are here

#mlqc #mlqc kiro #mlqc fluff #mlqc angst #mlqc lucien #mr love #mr love game #mr love queen's choice #mr. love queen's choice

[ateezmakemeweep]

one, two, three.

seonghwa x reader x yeosang

word count: 8k

smut

you had really come to like hanging out with seonghwa’s friends. 

at first, he had been apprehensive, his hand rubbing at his neck nervously asking you for the tenth time if you were sure you wanted to meet them.

"seonghwa, of course i do," you whined to your boyfriend, pressing up on your toes to peck his cheek. "why wouldn't i?”

and you suppose, after you'd met them, you'd known why. 

they were an odd mix of chaotic and sweet, always thoughtful and polite towards you albeit they drove you crazy. almost to the point of wanting to rip your hair out but you had truly grown to love each and every one of them.

hongjoong was the one who always saved you when the younger ones got out of hand, smacking them on the heads lightly and pushing them away while he shot you a reassuring smile.

yunho was the one who was always able to lift your spirits, noticing right away when you weren't feeling your best; it's like from the moment he met you, he was in tune with your emotions.

san and mingi were the ones you'd, admittedly, create destruction with. 

it took one time of peaking your head in their shared room and seeing them beat the shit out of each other to immediately join in, laughing and screaming with them until you were red in the face.

wooyoung was another one of your defenders, though much more vocally than hongjoong; if anyone even looked at you funny, he was on their ass in a minute. 

screaming about how they better not mess with you or they'll have have to face the consequences.

jongho was the one boy you thought didn't like you at first. he was slightly cold in his demeanor, smiling politely and bowing his head at you but never trying to initiate conversation. 

it wasn't until he had gotten tipsy one night (off a singular wine cooler) that he became a little puppy towards you, going on and on about how nice and pretty you were and that you and seonghwa were the perfect match.

and last but certainly not least was yeosang - not something you ever thought you'd admit, the boy had caught your eye immediately. 

there was something about him, his face and his voice and even his hands, just everything about him drawing you in the same way seonghwa did when you first saw him.

and, quite honestly, because of that, you should've expected the events that were to come. 

you never understood the concept of having more than one partner, thinking that finding a balance was probably difficult and surely that you'd have to favor one a little bit more. 

but the coming months proved that, sometimes, there was more than one person meant for you.

friday, june 19th

the rain was pouring down after your summer class, thunder and lightning crackling through the dark sky and causing you to grow more and more nervous.

seonghwa was usually waiting outside your building every monday and friday night, hating when you took the bus and insisting that you never do. 

but a work obligation had him two hours away in a different city, the way he kissed your head and mumbled his apologies over and over making your heart really hurt right now.

you always needed him in this type of weather. 

it felt silly and juvenile and even a little embarrassing, to be a full grown woman and terrified of storms; but what wasn't there to be scared about? loud booming noises and weather that had the potential to completely destroy the things in its path.

right now, that thing was you. 

the prospect of walking to the bus stop on the other side of campus, getting drenched and whipped with wind one of your worst nightmares. just as you were about to accept your fate, you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket. 

your eyebrows furrow when you see yeosang's name on the screen:

don't even think about taking the bus.

your head snaps up as your eyes survey the parking lot in front of you, mouth dropping open and quirking into a smile when you see his familiar black car. you place your books atop your head as you run to the vehicle, ducking your head in and taking in the scent of his car.

it smells just like him, a mix of men's cologne and something distinctly yeosang.

"thank you," you smiled gratefully at him. "i didn't know you were coming."

"seonghwa asked me to get you," he tells you, making your entire body still when he reaches over you. his arm brushes past you as he hums lowly, grabbing the seatbelt and snapping it in before sitting back in his seat.

"i-i could've done that," you told him nervously. 

he always did things like that, even in front of seonghwa. 

help you in ways where he just barely touches you, like tying up your shoe laces or placing his hand on your waist when you stretch up to grab things on the top shelf. 

he only smirks at you, pulling out of the parking lot and making his way back to the house. 

"how was school?"

you go on about the last session of your summer class, expressing how grateful you are for it to be over and telling him all about your scary professor. about how he'd call students out for no reason at all, make them read off their test answers and blankly stare at them if they asked any questions.

"i truthfully don't know what he wanted from us," you complained, hands flailing with a pout on your face before you mumble, "fuckin' bruce."

a snort leaves him as he looks over at you, the smirk on his lips causing a blush to creep on your face. 

"what?"

"nothing," he says, "you're funny." 

a crack of thunder and lightning fills the sky and he watches you flail in your seat, a tiny, surprised squeal leaving your mouth. his eyebrow raises as obvious fear and terror cross your face, your shaky exhale heard throughout the car.

"you scared of thunder?"

"no," you answer immediately, wanting to close your eyes in embarrassment; you couldn't have made that any more obvious.

and with the way he's looking at you, he knows it too, even though he just nods head and smiles softly at you.

"what do you want for dinner? the boys are expecting us to bring shit home so you know the house is probably in chaos."

thirty minutes later when you arrive with ten boxes of chicken, that's exactly what you walk into. 

the boys running to the door with a mix of dramatic groans and excited squeals, being suffocated in hugs like you'd been gone for four years and not just four hours.

"stop," you giggle out quietly, finally prying each and every last one of them off you before setting up the food. yeosang was quick to push you out of the kitchen, guiding you over to the tv and telling you to pick something.

you spend the rest of the night eating and watching a marathon of movies, face timing seonghwa and showing him all of the boys sleeping on top of one another.

"they're like a psychotic litter of puppies," the boy says, smiling at you from miles away in his hotel room bed. you giggle in agreement, your eyes moving to the window when the incessant rain and thunder pounds down on the glass.

"still raining?" he asks softly. 

your mouth turns into a small pout, nodding your head as you rest your chin atop your knee. he lets out a sigh, his hand running through his hair as his eyes soften.

"i'm sorry i'm not there with you, baby," he says quietly. 

and like you're somehow not used to it, the sweetness of your boyfriend and the way he's always so mindful of you, tears spring to your eyes. 

"my love, please don't," he begs once he sees them gloss over, pain and sadness creeping into his voice.

"i'm sorry," you sigh out, "i just...i wish you were here." 

it feels like seonghwa's heart shatters, his feet threatening to spring up from his bed to pack up his bag and make the two hour ride back home.

"just try to do what we always do," he suggests softly, the white noise speaker and weighted blanket in his room half of the trick in getting you to sleep during these nights. 

"and you can always call me. wake me up, i don't care."

"i'm not gonna wake you-" his stern look causes the words to die in your throat, mumbling an "okay," a few seconds before a pleased, almost cocky smile makes its way on his face.

"good, baby," he says and then his eyes quickly turn into something else you're all too familiar with. another method, probably your favorite one, in getting you fast asleep. 

"do something else for me now?"

it's in the way his voice drops, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, that has heat building between your legs. has him telling you to go into his room and get on the bed, the command in his voice already so strong and demanding.

he makes you prop the phone up toward you so he can see the expanse of your face, stomach and hips, his voice lowly telling you to do as he says. it's how you end up taking off your shirt, bra and shorts, leaving you panting on the bed with hard nipples and a soaked thong.

"seonghwa," you whined out already, every time you attempt to stick your hand in your underwear met with his firm "stop."

"over them first, baby. you know the rules."

you cry out the second your finger grazes your lace-covered clit, glossy, lustful eyes shooting to look at him watching you through the screen. you're met with the sight of him laying there shirtless, his cock resting on his stomach as he watches you begin to get yourself off.

"i want you," you whine lowly to him, breathing turning shallow as your finger starts to move faster and more purposeful on your throbbing clit. "fuck, seonghwa."

"you're doing so good," he says, voice strained and deep as you watch him take his cock in his hand. "close your eyes for me."

"but i wanna see-"

"close them."

you let out a whimper as you allow your eyes to roam over him, feeling your stomach tighten at the way his hand is slowly stroking himself up and down. the way that should be your hand and he should be the one-

"y/n."

you close them immediately at the sound of your name falling from his lips, your pouting mouth falling open as you feel yourself grow wetter by the second.

"that's my good girl," he says. "how do you feel, love? are your fingers gonna fuck you well?"

a tiny cry leaves your lips as you shake your head. 

"why not, baby? what's wrong?"

"they're not yours," you whine. "i want...you to fuck me."

"i can't baby," he grunts out. "as much as i want my fingers in your pretty little pussy." 

you bit your lip hard at his words, the small cry blaring through his speakers causing his cock to throb. 

"and then i'd be sure to fuck you like the good girl you are."

your glossy eyes flutter open, full of lust and desire as you ask him if you're allowed to finger yourself; the moment you hear his strangled "yes," you moan out at the feeling. 

your mind picturing him beside you, his fingers pounding in and out of you, thumb skillfully on your clit as the groans you hear coming from your phone vibrate in your ear.

"how does that feel now, baby?" he asks, "you look so pretty fucking yourself for me."

you feel your legs start to shake, your own hand traveling up to tweak at your sensitive nipple the same way he does to bring you over the edge.

"i wanna come for you," you say, "please let come for you."

and it's at this moment, you should've realized that the door wasn't locked. 

but you're so fucked out by your own fingers and seonghwa's voice and how close you are to your release that you don't hear the door open. 

you don't hear a quiet gasp leave the intruder's voice nor do you see how they linger in the doorway for a few silent moments.

"come for me baby. come all over your fingers for me and let me hear you be my good girl."

and then like a good girl, your legs tremble as the tight knot unravels and your loud, whiney moans ring through the air. 

you don't even think about how loud you're being, truthfully not even caring as pleasure rips through you and you ride out your high on your own hand. you hear the familiar sound of seonghwa releasing shortly after, his grunts and groans of your name carrying out the rest of your orgasm.

once the ringing in your ears stop, the sounds of you and seonghwa's heavy breathing filling the room, you're finally able to open your eyes. 

your vision is spotty at first, swearing you see a figure standing a few feet away in the doorway. your body tenses in fear and embarrassment, rubbing at your eyes with the hand not cupping your thong before looking again.

it must've just been a fluke, you think, something weird clouding your vision, because when you look back up, your door is closed and it's just you and seonghwa.

"how do you feel now, baby?" he asks you breathlessly. you turn on your side to see seonghwa's eyes are still closed.

"good," you tell him quietly, almost shyly; you guys have only done this a handful of times and each and every time, it makes you a little embarrassed.

"you did good for me, love," he says, his release on his stomach that would usually be seeping down your legs by now. "i can't wait to fuck you when i get back."

you laugh into your pillow slightly, cheeks warming at his words as you nod your head sleepily. 

"ah, did you tire yourself out?" he asks teasingly, feeling his heart ache that he can't clean you up and hold you as you fall asleep.

he can only watch as you succumb to your exhaustion after a few passing moments, his softly spoken "i love you" and "i'll be home soon" humming you to sleep.

you had hoped it was gonna be enough. 

that the power of an orgasm brought on by you and your boyfriend would be enough for you to sleep through the stormy night - but a loud crack of thunder rips you from sleep, your body shooting up and your chest heaving in fear. 

you immediately reach your hand out to the side, feeling the cold empty sheets and about ready to cry when you remember seonghwa isn't here tonight. 

that you're gonna have to sit through the storm all alone and be a big girl - but that's easier said than done. 

after what feels like an hour (but was really only fifteen minutes) you throw on a long t-shirt and pad your way into the kitchen. you fill yourself up a glass of water and down the cold liquid, placing the cup in the sink as you grip the counter.

you noticed all the boys had gone into their respective beds at some point in the night, the dark empty room in the apartment lighting up from the chaos and destruction outside. 

you feel tears prick your eyes, feeling so stupid for being scared and upset about this.

"you have to calm down," you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself in a sad attempt at comfort. "it's fine. everything's fine. it's just-"

"y/n?"

the familiar deep voice rips you from your distressing monologue, squinting your eyes in the dark to see yeosang making his way over to you hesitantly. he keeps a good distance between you two, looking your body up and down before his eyes fix on (aha) something behind you.

"are you okay?"

it's like the very question causes you to lose it, a tear rolling down your cheek that you're quick to wipe with your wrist.

"yes. no. i don't know," you stutter out quietly. "you're gonna think it's dumb." 

he takes your hand and guides you over to the couch, taking a seat next to you before turning to face you.

"try me," he says quietly, his eyes carefully watching your face.

it's then you tell him you're slightly embarrassing fear of storms. 

how ever since you were the little, the sounds of heavy rain and thunder have traumatized and disturbed you. how it keeps you up and sends you into a panic, almost nothing able to help you through a bad stormy night.

"almost nothing?" he asks curiously, his eyebrow raised as his head rests in his hand. "what's the one thing?"

you bite your lip nervously, your tooth digging into the sensitive pink skin almost to the point you draw blood.

"so...someone with me, usually helps. like...sleeping with me," you stutter out. 

"i usually have seonghwa but now he's not here. and he said i could call him and wake him up, but i don't know. it's not the same. and i don't wanna bother him."

he listens to your rambling carefully, parts of him feeling very conflicted.

because on one side, he wants more than anything to help you. he hates watching you be scared and thinking that you're gonna spend the rest of the night being haunted by your worst fear.

but on another, he's... not sure if it's right, given what he walked in on earlier that night and is pretending not to know about now. how greatly it affected him and how after his body refused to let it go, he had to get himself off in his bedroom.

"i guess that's kind of sad, right?" you laugh out in embarrassment. "i know, it's weird because i'm a literal adult but-"

"it's not sad," he's quick to clarify, "i was just... i don't wanna make you uncomfortable but..." 

he sees your eyebrow raise as you look at him, feeling a lump grow in his throat at your soft, wide-eyed stare.

"we can....sleep out here, if you want," he suggests quietly. "i'll sleep on the couch with you." 

he wouldn't feel right taking you into his bed but he also wouldn't wanna sleep with you in seonghwa's bed without the boy's permission; he thinks his best friend wouldn't mind the couch, given that you're terrified and need sleep.

"r-really?" you squeak out with a small smile. "i mean don't feel like you have to..."

"i don't," he insists with a small smile. "i want to."

that's how you end up laid out on the couch, yeosang behind you as you watch a random late night movie. 

you feel your eyes start to droop, yeosang's lowly spoke question "is this okay?" as his arm casually wraps around your waist. you can only nod sleepily, knowing that there's already not much space given the tight fit of the couch.

another crack of thunder has you jumping in his hold, pushing yourself back on him as a tiny sigh leaves your mouth. 

"it's okay," his deep voice drones lowly in your ear, "you're okay." 

you hum lowly as you nestle yourself further into his warm body, shimming your hips back as his hand strokes your arm calmingly.

it's taking everything in him not to crack, his stupid male brain remembering the way you were laid out on your bed. 

your moans ringing through the air as you rubbed yourself between your shaky legs. he could only imagine how your face looked, eyes squeezed in pleasure and mouth hanging open as your finger slammed in and out of your tight, wet-

"yeosang?" he hears you mumble lowly. 

because unless he's harboring the tv remote in his pants, you're pretty sure his dick is rock hard and resting against your ass.

"hm?" he mumbles lowly in your ear, his brain pounding with lustful thoughts he know he should feel ashamed of.

"are... are you good?"

when he's about to ask what you mean, almost teasingly do you rub against his bulge again. 

a shaky breath leaves his mouth as he tightens his hold on your waist, embarrassment flooding through him and he thanks god that you can't see his reddening face.

"shit, y/n," he grunts out. "i'm sorry."

"it's okay," you mumble out, feeling ashamed at just how much you like the feel of him pressed up against you. "it happens."

"does it?" he hums, humor and sarcasm in his tone. "because i don't think seonghwa would appreciate it."

you don't say anything but the voice in your head says otherwise, recalling bits and pieces of conversations with seonghwa about potential threesomes and what not when he noticed you eyeing the boy in question.

"would you ever be into that?" he asked you one night. 

you had been so embarrassed and flustered by him calling you out, your eyes roaming yeosang's body and hands and flushing at the thought of them on you.

"what?" you asked innocently. 

your boyfriend only raised his eyebrow, taking your face in his hand and shaking his head at you.

"you think i'm fucking stupid, baby girl?"

your eyes widened immediately, thinking he was about to be mad or jealous and yell for the first time in your relationship. 

"i see the way you look at him," he told you simply.

"it's not like that, seonghwa," you insist, your hand coming out to run through his soft hair. "i just...think he's handsome."

a smirk crosses the boy's face, nodding his head at you before pecking your nose. 

"well if you ever wanna...do something, just tell me." 

you look at the boy in shock at first, cheeks flushing and core clenching as you ask what exactly he means by something.

"he's my friend, one of my best friends," the boy tells you. "i wouldn't mind sharing what's mine if you wanted to give him a try."

you nearly passed out right on the spot, eyes widening and mind already clouded with some of the fantasies you pictured on lonely nights. 

seonghwa taking you from behind as you swallow yeosang's cock, yeosang watching as seonghwa eats your pussy and the boy pushing him aside to get a taste, hearing both of their moans and groans as they release onto your body.

his hand traveled down to your pants, slipping it inside and chuckling lowly when he feels wetness has started to gather. 

"you like the sound of that?" he hummed in your ear, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin and causing your breath to become strangled. "you want me to watch my friend make this needy little pussy come?"

"not watch," you whine quietly, spreading your legs further for him as he slowly circles your clit. "bo-both of you."

you can't see the sadistic smile that crosses his face, his finger slipping inside of you and causing to gasp out. 

"what you want, you get pretty girl. just let me know when."

"i actually don't think he would mind," you hummed lowly, pressing further into him and moving yourself against him. his quiet groan rips right through your core, spurring on the way you rock back and forth until his hold your waist tightens

"y/n..." he warns lowly.

you turn around to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and blazing down at you like he's trying so hard to keep it together. keep something lustful and brewing at bay. 

but now it proves to be nearly impossible, with your eyes looking up at him with a matching expression.

"what are you doing?" he asks you, voice strangled and gruff. "i...i can't-"

"seonghwa said he doesn't mind sharing," you tell him, voice breathy and sweet, "we've talked about it before." 

his eyes widen at the confession, unsure if he's more shocked by the fact you wanna do something right now or the fact that you and seonghwa had discussed this before.

something about it still doesn't feel quite right, so immune to the thought of you and seonghwa, that you're seonghwa's and no matter how badly he wanted you, he couldn't have you.

but with the way your breathing has synced, flush against one another's chest and feeling the heat radiating off each other, he feels himself quickly losing it. 

feeling himself move closer and closer to you until his lips touch the hot skin of your neck. you whimper at the feeling, arching your neck back so he gets easier access.

it does just the trick, his lips tentatively placing kisses down your hot skin. it causes your stomach to flip, the excitement and fear that comes with having a new man on top of you hitting you all at once.

"i've been wanting to do this for so long," he mumbles into your neck, his hand coming up so his thumb can trace your rapid pulse point. "you're such a pretty little thing and i saw the way you'd look at me."

your cheeks flush in embarrassment at getting caught, knowing you weren't subtle in the slightest but also hoping, by some miracle, he wouldn't catch on. 

like in some sort of bold retaliation, you throw your leg over his and grind yourself over his bulge.

"i...couldn't help it," you mumble, your words getting cut off last minute when you feel his his tongue slip out of his mouth. quiet hums leave you as he assaults your neck, licks and light bites and kisses that have you palming him over his pants.

just like seonghwa, you're quick to find out he's bossy - tells you to stop playing and touch his cock before he flips you onto you're back, like that's really some sort of threat. 

desperate to see just what he's been hiding, you stick your spit-covered hand down his pants and boxers and bite your lip when you feel his hard, long length.

"oh, god," he mumbles, shutting his eyes at the feel of you stroking him up and down. 

it'd be too much in normal circumstances, let alone that just a few hours before, he'd done the same thing to himself after seeing you. that you're right in the living room where anyone could walk out and catch you both.

"you're so good," he grunts out, convinced for most of his life that no one would give him a better hand job than himself. 

you seem to prove him wrong, twisting and tugging in all the right ways to have him on the edge of coming after just a few minutes. 

and when you politely ask him to do just that for you, your soft quiet voice whispering "come for me," he buries his face in your neck to muffle his moan.

you pull your spit-covered hand out of his pants and smile at him shyly, making your way over to the kitchen on shaky legs. 

after washing your hands of him, you make your way back to the couch to see his eyes closed, head resting back on the arm of the couch as his breathing is turned more even.

his eyes pop open when you take your spot in front of him, his arm wrapping around your waist again and pressing against your stomach. 

"it's your turn, isn't it?"

"you don't have to," you insist, the throbbing wetness between your legs saying otherwise. you don’t hear him say anything for a few moments, figuring that he's like you in the sense that an orgasm puts him right to sleep.

your eyes are closed for a few minutes, probably would've been able to succumb to sleep if not for the ache in the lower half of your body, when you feel his hand cover you. 

you keep your eyes closed but bite your lip, whining lowly and hoping, praying, he's just gonna take control.

"i can't go to sleep knowing you're like this," he says lowly in your ear, rubbing over your shorts and smirking when a low moan leaves your mouth. his hand sneaks in as his finger teases at your slit, breathing sharply when he feels how wet you are. 

"jesus christ," he grunts out, sounding genuinely pained. "fuck no."

and with that, his finger slides easily into you and you push yourself back on him again. his finger moves in and out of you steadily, his thumb circling your clit and lowly speaking into your ear. 

he tells you how long he's thought about having his fingers in you, how he knew your pussy would be this tight and warm and how if given the chance, he would fuck the life out of you.

"you want that?" he asks lowly before commanding, "tell me."

"yes," you whine out, "yes, yes, yes."

"well, you can't get that," he teases, dropping a kiss to the area where your shoulder and neck meet. "not yet, anyway. so you need to come on my fingers."

just a few seconds later, you do exactly that.

sunday, june 21st

seonghwa gets home early that morning, sneaking in to his room and smiling at the sight of you fast asleep in his bed. 

he sheds himself free of clothes and crawls in next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your neck. the movement causes you to stir, moaning sleepily before turning in your boyfriend's hold. 

"hwa," you mumble, burying your face in his chest and inhaling the familiar scent of him.

"hi, baby," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i missed you."

"missed you too," you slur tiredly, smiling lazily when you hear his quiet chuckle. your arm is quick to wrap around his waist, pulling yourself closer into him and falling back asleep in the comfort of his arms.

when you both wake a few hours later, the late morning sun streaming through the window, he bends down and pecks your lips. 

"how was your weekend, love?"

a flush crosses your face when you think back to the events of friday night, the way you and yeosang fooled around on the couch and he murmured words that you hadn't been able to stop thinking about.

"it was... good," is all you say, knowing your cheeks and eyes are damn well about to give you away.

"but?" he asks lowly. 

you let out a quiet huff, shaking your head at how well he knows you.

"i... yeosang stayed with me during the storm." his lips quirk to the side, raising an eyebrow at you as he props himself up on his arm.

"yeah? what happened?" he asks, eyes roaming your face; they don't hold any jealously or anger or insecurity, just a genuine curiosity.

"we... cuddled on the couch," you start off, the boy nodding because, okay yeah, all the boys cuddle with you. that's nothing for you to blush and get shy over. 

"but then... i gave him..." it felt weird to confess these things to your own boyfriend, despite the mutual ground you stood on when it came to that.

"tell me, y/n, it's okay," he says softly, his hand moving to your cheek and stroking it softly. "we talked about it, i know."

"i gave him a hand job and he fingered me."

he nods his head, almost like you told him the date and time before a smirk crosses his face. 

"yeah?" he hums lowly, "no fucking though, right?"

you immediately shake your head and he smiles proudly, replacing his hand with a pair of lips. 

"good," he says after pecking your cheek. "i gotta be there for that."

you bite your lip, nodding your head and feeling excitement rush through you at the thought. 

that you get to be with seonghwa without the phone screen in the way, that you'll get to experience yeosang's skilled fingers again and have both of them with you in the most intimate way.

"but for now," he says, pushing you gently onto your back and dipping his head to place kisses over your exposed thighs. "i need to eat this pussy myself.”

wednesday, july 15th

there wasn't a free night for you, seonghwa and yeosang for another three weeks - but once the time finally came, the rest of the boys either at the movies or dinner, seonghwa didn't waste a second. 

the three of you were lounging out in the living room all day, your boyfriend and yeosang throwing each other knowing looks like they had discussed the past weekend events without you.

it started when seonghwa mumbled your name ten minutes after san closed the door. 

you lifted your head off his shoulder, smiling up at him softly before seeing that familiar look in his eye. it drops ever so slightly, feeling yourself swallow as you remember yeosang had adamantly declined going out with the rest.

"we were thinking," he began, nodding his head toward yeosang like your pussy didn't already sense what was about to come. "you wanna show me what i missed that friday?"

your eyes widen at his words, lips growing dry as you look at both the boys staring at you. 

"i-i guess, but i-"

yeosang laughs at your stuttering, seonghwa shooting him a look that immediately has it turning into a fake cough. 

"it's okay if you don't," he says softly, "we just thought...it might be fun."

"no, i do," you answer quickly, far too quickly that it causes you to blush. "i just... what do i do? isn't it gonna be kinda weird?"

seonghwa only strokes your cheek, smiling down at you as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. 

"whatever we tell you to do, love. that's normal, isn't it?"

your eyes widen as you timidly nod, looking at yeosang who's been intently watching you and seonghwa. 

he watches the way you fall so comfortably into his touch, how your eyes look at him with so much trust and affection while his show a certain sort of protectiveness in them.

a protectiveness that comes out even more when seonghwa looks at his friends.

"take care of her. if at anytime she tenses or hesitates, stop."

"no shit, hwa," the boy says before smirking teasingly. 

he taps on his lap where he's sitting on the chair, legs spread slightly as he leans back cockily. 

"now come here, beautiful."

seonghwa rolls his eyes at the boy, patting you on the butt encouragingly and watching carefully as you stumble over. 

you stand in front of yeosang a tad unsure, feeling more than ready to continue where you left out a few nights ago but also a little nervous.

with an audience is hard enough but when that audience is your boyfriend?

"let’s show seonghwa how good i made you feel," he says lowly to you, the man’s face turning into a sneer; it'd be in his friend’s best interest not to make this a competition.

you smile softly when you hear your boyfriend scoff, turning around to throw him a wink before straddling yeosang.

his cocky demeanor only grows stronger, gripping your hips as he moves you back and forth over him. you're quick to take over, looking at him as your teeth dig into your bottom lip.

"there you go, baby," he encourages before grabbing you by the jaw and forcing you down. "that's how it all started, right? because you couldn't stop grinding your ass all over my cock."

your breath falters at his words, face flushing but increasing your speed slightly. 

he stares down at your lips, wanting so badly to take your mouth and allow his tongue to explore it. he looks to seonghwa who's just sitting on the couch, watching your shorts-covered ass grind back and forth skillfully.

"can i kiss her?" yeosang asks gruffly; the man only shrugs, nodding his head toward your figure.

"why are you asking me?"

so when yeosang asks you, eyes deep and dark as they look into yours, you're the first to make the move. 

slamming your lips on to his and moaning into his mouth when his hands immediately go to grab your ass. his tongue slips right through, swallowing your moans as he moves his hand up your shorts to squeeze and knead your skin.

"i know she's soaked right now," you hear seonghwa say, breaking the kiss to turn around and see him sitting there in his shirt and boxers. 

your lips are red and slightly puffy, yeosang's assault on your mouth making you look extra pretty. seonghwa gives you a reassuring look, quirking his eyebrow as if to say 'should we go on?'

and when you eagerly nod your head, a smirk crosses his face; before he can say anything, yeosang pulls his hands out of your shorts. 

"that true, y/n?" 

you lick over your lips slowly, looking him up and down before you nod your head.

it causes yeosang to spring up from his seat, grabbing you so your legs are wrapped around his hips as he walks over to throw you down on the chaise of the couch. 

you land with a surprised squeal, watching as he shoves his pants down in one go. he bends and slowly drags your shorts and thong off, looking at your underwear in satisfaction. 

he balls up the underwear and throws it towards seonghwa, eyes trailing every inch of your body with a lustful expression.

"you were right," the boy hums, trailing his finger in between your thighs. "good girl is all wet and ready for us."

you can't see the way seonghwa is twirling your lace around his finger nor can you see the outline of his cock protruding in his boxers. you can only focus on yeosang trailing his fingers up and down your slit, circling your wet hole and causing you to whine out his name.

"hear that, hwa?" the boy says, humor and amusement in his tone. "sounding like a needy little bitch."

your eyes roll back and whether it be your degradation kink kicking in or the way his fingers brushes over your clit, you don't know. but when you mumble a "please," you hear seonghwa tell yeosang to stop teasing.

"is this better then?" yeosang hums lowly, sliding two fingers in you quickly and placing his tongue on your clit. 

it's a move that completely throws you off, something between a moan and scream leaving your mouth. you throw your arms back to hold onto the couch, lifting your hips up and grinding against his face in an attempt to feel more of him.

"answer him, baby," seonghwa demands, his head hung back as he jerks himself slowly. 

and so, of course, you do as he says. cry out a mantra of “yes.” as his tongue flicks over you skillfully and his fingers curl up into you.

"oh, my god," you screech, one hand leaving the couch to fall into his hair. 

you pull and twist at the strands, digging his face further into you that only seems to encourage him. you feel your legs start to shake, chest heaving up and down as a powerful orgasm is about to flood right through you.

the boy pulls back and wipes his face just before you come, your face twisting into one of absolute frustration and devastation until you see seonghwa's figure looming over you.

"hi, love," he says, bending down before he wraps his hand around your throat. "you like being quite the little whore, don't you?"

you lick your lips as a pout forms on your lips, disappointment flooding through you as your pussy aches from having your orgasm taken away. 

"s-seonghwa, please."

"please what?" he asks, tightening his hold ever so slightly as he slams his lips on yours. "please let you be a little whore?"

you look at your boyfriend, wondering if it'd be in your favor to nod and fully accept this role - if being a little whore means you get to come, then you certainly don't mind it.

"because baby girl, if that's the case," he says lowly, taking you by your hips and flipping you over so you're on all fours. "then we'll fuck you like one."

you whimper and whine pathetically, the cool air on your wetness doing absolutely nothing to help the ache. it just makes it worse, looking back at the two men with raging cocks and dark stares and nodding your head desperately.

"please," you say, eyes moving between both of them. "yes. i want to make both of you come."

seonghwa smiles and brushes your hair lovingly, placing a kiss on top of your head before looking at yeosang. 

"me first," he says, standing behind you as he lines his cock up with your hole. "let her suck you, she's fucking amazing."

when seonghwa enters you with a snap of his hips, yeosang immediately juts himself into your mouth. you cry out around his cock, balancing yourself on one arm as you lick yeosang up and down. twist your hand on the parts your mouth doesn't reach and eagerly muffle your moans around him.

"always so tight, my love, holyfuck," you hear seonghwa say behind you, 

his hands digging into your hips as he pounds into you from behind. you moan out at his words, making sure to look yeosang in the eyes as you circle your tongue around his tip.

"jesus christ," yeosang mumbles, your eye contact and tongue and the way your body is jutting forward from seonghwa fucking into you some of the hottest shit he's ever seen. 

you prove him wrong all but five seconds later, taking his cock fully in your mouth as you bob your head up and down with vigor.

"you love this don't you baby," seonghwa grunts out behind you, "having me fuck you while you suck him off." 

if you didn't have a mouth full of cock, you'd be your obedient, truthful self and moan out a mantra of yes, yes, yes.

but you're so intent on sucking yeosang, thinking back to all the times you thought about this very moment. 

being taken from behind by one while you sucked off the other. hearing their groans and grunts bounce off one another as they use your body for their own pleasure.

you know seonghwa's close by the way his grunts grow louder, hips becoming more sloppy in his movements and him asking you on more time if you like being their whore. 

when you push your hips back on him, disconnecting your mouth from yeosang to let your loud moan ring free, you feel him spill his release into you. it makes you feel warm and full, wondering if you're about to feel the same exact thing on your face and really be a mess tonight.

the second seonghwa pulls out of you, slapping your throbbing clit for good measure before he makes his way around to, yeosang pulls himself from your mouth and eagerly makes his way behind you.

"be gentle," seonghwa warns the boy, grabbing his arm and tightening his hold ever so slightly. "she's gonna be sensitive." 

yeosang only narrows his eyes at the boy challengingly, bending down and taking your pretty face in his veiny hand.

"do you want that, y/n?" he asks, letting his thumb drag over your bottom lip before sticking his finger in your mouth. "do you want me to be gentle?"

 seonghwa rolls his eyes at his friend's approach, shaking his head and resisting the urge to tell him to fuck off purely out of selfish intent.

you also shake your head no, telling him to fuck you as he pleased and yeosang does just that. 

he pushes you on your back and puts your legs up on his shoulders, spreading you like a feast and pounded his throbbing cock into you.

the both of them are different in length and girth but seem to fit you so well. you stretch perfectly, filled up so well by them and feeling every ridge and thrust with immense pleasure.

"holyshit this pussy," yeosang grunted, seonghwa smirking in satisfaction because after all, you were still his girlfriend and it sent a strange sense of pride through him. 

that's why he rests your head on his lap and fondles your chest, palming your nipples and watching as your face twisted into one of pleasure.

it only took five flicks of yeosang's fingers on your clit for you to completely fall apart, spreading your legs and yelping when one of the most intense orgasms destroys your body. 

you’re a shaky, moaning mess, yeosang's hips snapping rapidly into you as seonghwa bends down and silences your mouth with his.

the both of you took some time to catch your breath, yeosang pulling out of you with a curse and placing a kiss to your leg. 

you looked up at seonghwa who's hands were in your sweaty hair, roaming over your face to see if they had gotten too much. if their words and the way they lost control inside of you was suddenly taking an effect.

you only grabbed the back of his neck and tugged him down, your lips meeting with fervor as he smiles into the kiss. he slips his tongue in before pulling back, looking down at you lovingly as he fixes another sweaty strand of hair.

"you okay, baby?" he asks, "you did so fucking good for us."

you nod your head with a lazy smile, stretching out your legs tiredly. the both of you turn to yeosang who was still looking dazed and boneless on the couch.

you giggled into seonghwa's arm, feeling his lips press a kiss against your head. 

"he's not used to you," he hums lowly.

"well, he better," you say, yeosang snapping open one eye as a smirk crosses his lips.

saturday, october 2nd

the sexual part was easy. falling into the motions of all of your desired roles and positions that you liked. 

yeosang was amazing with his fingers, seonghwa was amazing with his tongue and either of them being inside you was guaranteed a good time.

but it was after the sex where you all felt... hesitant.

at first, it had been awkward. 

yeosang not knowing what to do when seonghwa did all his normal aftercare, cleaning up between your legs and brushing your hair and asking a million times if you were okay or needed anything; it had surprised him, honestly, the level of care he put into you afterward. 

but it also surprised him that he found himself waning to do that.

he wanted to stay after, have you in his arms or on his chest with seonghwa on the other side of you. he wanted to see you outside the bedroom, go on dates with you and chastely kiss you and act like a boyfriend the way seonghwa did.

it wasn't until you initiated the first conversation that really set everything in motion.

it started after nearly two hours of swapping positions, riding yeosang as seonghwa jerked himself off before he couldn't take it anymore and sat you on his face. 

they had gotten better at sharing, dirty looks and snide comments still made that were more often than not teasing.

after this particular time, however, you were exhausted. you were just so exhausted and wanted both of them by your side tonight. 

"can you stay," you softly asked yeosang. "i... want you both tonight."

the two boys looked at one another before shrugging because the rule had quickly become what y/n wants, y/n gets. 

you spent the night in between the both of them, your hand intertwined with seonghwa's while your head rested on yeosang's chest.

when the two boys woke before you the next morning, they had looked at each other before looking down at you and knew it felt right. 

not particularly between them, though they didn't mind it, but just the dynamic as a whole. both of them loving you and caring for you and only wanting what's best for you - and if that was both of them, then that's what it was.

because the further you got into your relationship, the more you saw just how much you needed both of them. 

you needed seonghwa for certain things and you needed yeosang for certain things. 

on nights you were feeling particularly vulnerable, you still wanted seonghwa. if a storm was hitting or you were coming down with a cold, you liked the familiar warmness of seonghwa.

but on an intellectual level, talking out your feelings and getting stuff out in the open, you and yeosang clicked. 

you had the same personality, liked the same things, would sometimes even finish the others sentences and be able to know exactly what the other person was thinking. 

you also found that innocent little ways of affection, you liked with yeosang. liked the way your hands fit together and the way his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

the other boys had noticed the change almost immediately, raising their brows at the way yeosang would cuddle you from behind on the couch while seonghwa just sat off to the side unbothered. 

they weren't deaf either, hearing the boys muffled moans mixed in with yours - so naturally, it had been san to discuss the elephant in the room.

"so like... are you three all a thing now? and if so, how do i get in on this?"

you, yeosang and seonghwa let out loud laughs, the latter boy flicking his forehead and smiling when san let out a loud cry. 

"ow! what was that for!"

"for being a perv," he sneered, pushing the boy off the couch so he can sit next to you and yeosang. you moved so your head rested on his lap, your feet on yeosang at he trailed his hand slowly up and down his leg.

eventually, everyone had gotten used to the new normal. had gotten used to seonghwa and yeosang caring for you in the same way, watching their eyes look at you with a matching twinge of love and lust in their eyes.

you and yeosang are now in his bed, giggling and teasing each other over a stupid tv show when you see seonghwa come in with a smile. he smirks when he sees yeosang's hands holding you hostage, your wrists above your head as your red in the face from laughing.

"don't fuck with our girl too much," seonghwa said with a smile, bending down to peck your cheek before snaking his way in bed.

you spent the rest of the night laughing with them, writhing under their hold as they tickle and nip at you. 

and when you guys go to bed a few hours later, your drowsy, warm body in the middle of both of them, the thunder rumbling outside is a pleasant reminder of the night this all started.

(part 2)

#richboy au #aha just kidding #unless #seonghwa smut #yeosang smut #ateez smut #poly ateez