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aerialflight · 3 years

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Fic Rec (it's been too long and I read a whole lot of fics)

I've read so many fics these past couple of months and my need to share them to the world has seized me by the throat. Please enjoy and support these fanfic writers! They are the best. XD

[Naruto]

Nine-Tailed Foxes are Dead by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Shikamaru/Naruto

For Konoha, it's been one month since the preliminary Chunin exams. For Naruto, it's been six. And he wasn't in Konoha.

At the end of his ordeal, Naruto walks into the Chunin Exam finals without his left arm.

Shikamaru is very concerned. And, eventually, very precious to Naruto as they work together to solve the mysteries of Konoha and bring kindness to the Shinobi world, one adventure at a time.

(I would die for this fic. I know the summary sounds doom and gloom but IT'S NOT. This fic made me fucking cry, I don't think I've ever read a fic that characterized Naruto so right. He's so full of hope and love and develops into the best version of himself and I'm so HERE FOR IT. And it's not just Naruto, Shikamaru is absolutely amazing here along with Kakashi and surprise surprise Ino, I can't BELIEVE it took me this long to stumble across this fic. Also THE WORLDBUILDING IS TO DIE FOR!!! And the plot! Is! So! Interesting! Just, everything about this fic is just amazing so please PLEASE read this!!!)

The End of the Uchiha by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Naruto/Sasuke

“I promise, little electric spirit of this shrine,” he whispered into the soft dirt and fallen leaves, “I will never gain the eyes. I will never pass them on. And I will make sure the eyes end in my brother, so that they can’t hurt anybody anymore. I will be the last Uchiha, and see to the end of the Copy-Wheel Clan. Then all of the hatred here can stop, and my family can rest peacefully. I promise, little shrine.”

Sasuke is more than his brother thinks he is. He's more than any Uchiha has ever been. He will kill his brother, but it will not be vengeance.

It will be mercy.

(Same author as the one above, they are the gift that keeps on giving. Seriously, HOW did I NEVER FIND THESE FICS before now??? One of life's greatest mysteries. The author's sense of humor is so on point here along with the atmospheric writing that's so vivid in the mind. Their writing style is so recognizable to me now and makes me fall into the world they're creating, it's stunning. Sasuke here makes me want to hug him and the idea of him living like a feral ghibli character has me LIVING. Check the tags of the fic, all of it is true, hand to god. Please give all of the author's fics a shot, it's a rabbit hole I'm thankful I fell into!)

mil fantasmas (gritan en calma) by LegaciesandMemories

Post-Tsukuyomi, something in Uchiha Sasuke's mind shatters. The same night, Yamanaka Ino falls asleep and doesn't wake up for 15 days.

---

In which Ino and Sasuke both wake from the aftermath of the Uchiha Massacre with the ability to see ghosts, and no one is prepared for the fallout.

(This fic has arrested my curiosity and eagerness to know what will happen next. These poor kids need so many hugs and Ino is getting the spotlight she deserves. I am so excited for this fic and what it has in store! Please read! XD)

Lichtenberg Figures by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Name: Kakashi Hatake Rank: Jounin Status: Missing Nin Missing Since: June 15th, 271 AD Note: Flee on Sight . . . Haburashi looked his team in the eyes— three, fresh out of the Academy genin— and resolved to teach them as best as he could. And right now, his lesson was simple: “Stay. Away. From. Kakashi. Hatake.”

(Dimension travel fic with a slice of Kakashi being an absolute troll and dealing with the shitty hand he's been dealt with. Seriously, the man has the worst luck in all of Konoha. Also, the mystery of the other Kakashi's history has me leaning by the edge of my seat, I need to know.)

The Governess by Ysmirel

Ship: Kakashi/OFC

"“What,” he finally asked, “is so funny?”

Ibara bit her lower lip to keep the chuckles in, still smiling and making absolutely no effort to get more space between them, seemingly perfectly at ease within reach of a trained shinobi. Her self-control wasn't all that good, as she ended up snorting and was overcame once again by another fit of laughter. “I just- It's just-” She struggled to speak, trying to catch her breath and wiping away tears of mirth with the hand that wasn't still holding onto his vest. Finally, she looked him in the eye and said, with a smile that was all teeth and without a hint of her previous drunken stupor, “and who's going to believe you?”

As he stood there, stunned by her words and change in demeanor, he realized with dawning horror that she was right."

In which Kakashi finds himself at the other end of the troll shtick, and he doesn't appreciate it all that much.

(It's so hard to find self-insert fics with a fresh concept these days, especially in the naruto fandom. Not that I don't enjoy and devour a lot of self insert fics like it's going out of style, but it's just so nice to find something new and shiny and really damn good. I'm so pumped for this fic and how it's going to develop so please join me in rooting for this fic!)

half a league (until the valley of death) by SpectersShadow117

Kakashi can think of no reason for Sasuke's inexplicable and drastic change in behavior. He doesn't like the desperate, haunted gleam in his student's eyes, and he also doesn't like the nagging feeling that he's missing something very important. Aka: Future Sasuke goes to Past Sasuke and gives him a reality check with Specific Intentions, but as with most Uchiha, his methods leave much to be desired. (Featuring: Childhood trauma FTW, Konoha's shitty care of orphans, and absolutely no one having a fun time.)

(Sasuke wanting to change the future out of complete and utter spite has me LIVING. Sasuke is such a Mess here and the twist on the time travel premise is so good and the kid is so Traumatized and Desperate and Not Having A Good Time. Naruto and Sakura developing as better ninjas and Kakashi trying his best makes me want to scream. Also, how Sasuke thinks about Itachi makes me want to cackle. I am 100% down for this. I am rooting for this kid, go get them! XD)

[Harry Potter]

fruit loops in time (circle around me) by justprompts

Ships: Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius

"This is Crabbe, and Goyle," the blonde boy says, pointing at the two boys next to him. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Ma - "

Ron laughs, and Malfoy immediately bristles.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy says, angrily. "No need to ask yours - "

"You're honestly so cute," Ron interrupts, yet again, shaking his head. "So tiny. And so angry, all the time. It's adorable."

Alternatively Ron Weasley, Time Traveller Extraordinaire, is stuck in the same seven year Hogwarts Loop, repeating the same thing over and over again. Naturally, he's so done with everything.

(This is the greatest hp fic I've ever read. I LOVE RON WEASLEY and by the time you read this fic SO WILL YOU!! This is the fic I WISH I have the ability to write. I read this entire fic aloud to my brother and we spent literal hours howling and talking about how utterly insane and incredible this fic is, it's amazing. This is hands down my favorite Ron Weasley. You Can Pry This Fic From My Cold Dead Fingers.)

[Boku no Hero Academia]

Kacchan's Cult by Ourliazo

Pro Hero Ground Zero is attacked, originally meant to be de-aged out of existence by a desperate villain but is instead launched into his 14-year-old self.

But Katsuki is a fucking pro so whatever, time to fuck up someone's day. And sure, maybe he's only one man, but that's why he conscripts the entirety of the UA student body into tearing down some criminal empires.

(It's time travel, crack, and Bakugou being his usual explody, competent self. What more in life do you want? Seriously though, please read. I'm obsessed with this fic and having a Good Time!)

Cleaning Crew; Teaching Kids to Value their Safety, for Fun and Profit by Reavv

Takenaka Hideo is a thirty-two year old, in mild desperation for money, who has just been hired as a new janitor for UA's support staff. He has a quirk that lets him find lost objects, a liaison with the police because of it, and desperate desire for competent co-workers.

Oh, and he's already lived a previous life, in a world where quirks and heroes didn't even exist.

Not a big deal, though. It's not like you ever see the janitor playing a big part in action movies. He's here to get paid, and that's it.

On the opposite side of the equation, class 1-A has to wonder at the new UA cryptid that always seems to show up when things are on fire, and who keeps trying to convince them to let the adults handle the fire extinguisher.

(A great deal of fun packed into one fic. That is how I title this fic and nothing will change my mind! Hideo just wants to quietly do his job and not get in the way. I Relate. Please read!)

Poltergeist by WriterGreenReads

Class 1-A is haunted.

Well, not really.

I AM dead, though.

World's friendliest poltergeist, at your service.

(I don't know how I got so sucked into OC fics, but I found some fantastic fics along the way so I have no regrets. The author really tries to push the premise and I just love all the interactions and dynamics that form as the fic gets further in. And the OC character and all the hijinks they get up to cracks me up! At the same time, it's pretty heartwarming and it's practically a friendships galore fic! Definitely recommend it!)

invincible by supercrunch for Engrin

Ship: Bakugou/Midoriya

This is the way the world works: the sun rises in the east. The strong come out on top. Bakugou Katsuki rockets through life like a comet and Midoriya Izuku stumbles after. If he believed in such things Katsuki would say it was written in the stars. That some god of war had looked at him and said this one. That he’d been passed along a line to get his blessings – genius, willpower, fearless ambition – and dropped off on earth.

Then, of course, there is the question of Deku. The spitfire runt. Deku, no matter what the world does to him, never stops hoping.

Until, of course, he eventually does.

(Katsuki broke him. Snapped him in half like a twig and now has to scramble to put Deku back together. “We can do this, Deku," he says slowly. "There are so many mysteries that never got put to bed. Criminals roaming around looking to hurt people and you and me, we can fix that.”

There’s a long pause. The comforter slips a little off Deku’s skinny shoulders and drowns him. “You mean like a team?”

In that split second, Katsuki makes a decision he’s never even considered. He swallows his pride. “Yeah, Deku. We’d be a team.”)

(If there was any other way canon could've gone, this is the story I would've wanted. It's perfect.)

Inadvertent Wilderness Therapy by Cacid

Following an unfortunate encounter with a teleporter on the last day of internships, Bakugou Katsuki and Hakamata Tsunagu spend some quality time in northern Canada.

In no particular order they will: build ugly survival shelters, stalk rabbits, run from polar bears, reflect on the chemical composition of trees, insult each other, and complain about krumholtz.

(THESE TWO. TOGETHER. IN THE WILDERNESS. IN FUCKING CANADA OF ALL PLACES. I still can't believe this fic actually exists and just how INVESTED I became in their relationship. Blue Jeanist instantly became my favorite ranked hero with this fic alone. HIS SENSE OF HUMOR IS TERRIBLE, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH FNIEWOPAF. BAKUGOU DOES TOO. IT'S FUCKING INCREDIBLE. *incoherent screeching into the wild*)

[Stranger Things]

Baci D'aria by RabbitDarling

“Love is worth the sum of itself, and nothing more.” ― Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic

Steve learned a lot at his Aunt's side before she passed but his favourite thing she taught him was baci d'aria; special little spells that you created from the heart and put into the food you shared.

In opening his heart and gifts to those around him Steve slowly finds himself a family in a way he never thought he'd get to experience. One by One he collects pre-teens to trail in his wake like ducklings and Steve can't even refute it by the time he realizes what has happened.

(This fic is so soft and Steve is just collecting people and winning them over with his magical food (literally). I am always a sucker for heartwarming, good for the soul fics so if you want to make yourself hungry and feel all warm and gooey inside, read this!)

(Don't Fear) The Reaper by TeaFourTwo

Ship: Steve/Billy

He looks down at the blood on his hands and on the floor and wonders why the memory hasn’t broken yet, why he isn’t back in Starcourt mall with control of his body again, wonders if he's even still alive at all. Is this hell then? Or perhaps purgatory? It certainly isn’t heaven, that’s for sure. None of this makes any sense…but then what's new—nothing in Billy’s life makes sense anymore.

Billy laughs then, loud and long and unhinged. It's the only sound in the whole house, and it bounces off the walls like a fucked up echo, like the world is laughing with him.

“Jesus christ you’re insane…” It’s Max’s voice and it’s shaking. It only makes Billy laugh harder, because Max has it all wrong. Billy isn’t crazy, it’s the rest of the world that’s insane.

Billy dies a hero of sorts. He wakes up back in his bed on Saturday morning, the third of November, 1984...nearly nine months earlier.

(Billy is stuck in a time loop and it's slowly driving him crazy. And the fic shows just how much influence Billy did have in the plot and how doomed the world is without him in it. Great character exploration with Billy's character and all the ways he's so messy and human. Definitely recommend it!)

[Knives Out]

The Road Less Traveled By by UisceOneLove

Ship: Marta/Ransom

If Harlan wants to leave Ransom to be on his own, fine. He'll show him just what Ransom Drysdale is capable of.

or, where Ransom chooses to prove his abilities through means of the non-homicidal variety and finds himself becoming exactly what Harlan was hoping he would.

(I found this fic out of sheer chance and god, Ransom is just, so fascinating to me as a character. Marta of course is the Best here and I will forever stan her. Seriously, this is such a good fic! Please read!)

[Haikyuu!!]

Sky Full of Stars by grilledsquids

The Hinatas are twins. They're practically identical.

But while Shouyou seeks out Karasuno's volleyball team to become the next Little Giant, Natsu is scouted to to play soccer for Shiratorizawa. While Shouyou sets his eyes on playing volleyball at the highest level possible, his sister wonders how much longer she can play soccer... and if it's worth it to keep going.

A Natsu-centric story featuring: Shiratorizawa VBC shenanigans, too many soccer OCs, mild teenage drama, a little bit of plot, and Semi Eita not knowing what a period is.

(It's just!! So cute and wholesome!!! The Shiratorizawa volleyball team is so fleshed out along with the OC characters for the girl's soccer team and I swear, it's been a long while since I've laughed this much at the sheer shenanigans that happen in a fic. It's surprisingly hard to find good gen fics in this fandom so finding this gem made me so happy! If you want a fic that brings a smile to your face, read this!!)

like water by speakingincode

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, and when Tooru looks at him, he can read My best friend’s an idiot off the crease of his eyebrows. “Are you telling me you spent the last three years weirdly obsessed with Kageyama – I still remember the time you made us play him on a dumb whim, you know – and now you’re at his beck and call? Are you okay? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m— I’m not at his beck and call! I said no last week. It’s… It’s like you said. I get bored easily. I saw him at the park a couple weeks after they played Nationals and called him a perfect little tyrant, and he pestered me into spending time with him after,” Tooru says. “I’m not a monster, Iwa-chan. If he wants the company of his cool, handsome ex-upperclassman that badly, who am I to begrudge him?”

Or: Oikawa doesn't know why Kageyama keeps asking to meet him on Saturdays. He also doesn't know why he keeps saying yes.

(The fact this fic is canon-compliant and covers post-canon too makes me want to shout to the heavens. Fucking incredible! One of the best Oikakage fics ever and it's a crime how it's not at the top of the ship tag. Please please read!!)

twist into your shape by kakkoweeb

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

The only thing better than sweets were sweets containing paper that told you whether your future would be good or bad--or in Kageyama and Oikawa's case, paper that somehow caused you to live inside each other's bodies.

(Everyone probably already read this fic but it needs to be said, you need to read this fic. How these two try and manage each other's lives and slowly start to care about one another is so beautiful and sincere and I am ready to wrestle anyone to the floor and comply them into reading this fic. Doesn't matter if you like the ship, you will become a fan if you read it, I promise. Please please read!!)

Take the Long Road Home by pepperfield

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

When Azumane Asahi goes missing before his engagement meeting with Kozume Kenma, what other option is there but for Daichi to impersonate his brother and fake his way through a first date with Asahi's fiance?

Okay, let's be realistic - there were probably at least four other options.

Unfortunately, Tetsurou couldn't come up with any of them either, so now he's here flirting with Kenma's future husband while trying to keep his web of deceit from collapsing.

It's going to be an eventful day.

(I got obsessed with this ship alongside Oikakage and SO WILL YOU. THE POTENTIAL. THE BANTER. THE FACT THEY'RE BOTH DORKS AND THE FIC HAS IDENTITY SHENANIGANS DANCING ALL OVER IT!! I had so much fun reading this and these two are MEANT TO BE FENIWPAF. If you don't see the potential of this ship, you will now.)

a misunderstanding a day keeps the boyfriend away by bartallen for betuls

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

Kuroo doesn’t fall in love hard and fast like many others do – he falls slowly, and very very softly. Most of the times he doesn’t even realise he’s in love with someone until it’s too late.

(Kuroo is the dumbest man alive and I've never related to someone so hard in my life. God help me.)

You like me. by roseknight

Ship: Daishou/Kuroo

Kuroo nearly lived a Daishou-free life, and sometimes he looked back and wondered how much better and how much worse that would've been.

(I didn't even know who Daishou was until I read this fic and now I can't unsee the potential this ship has. I'm a ruined woman and I regret NOTHING.)

Kings of the Road, Kings of the Universe by EzzyDean

Eight magical captains, one bus, an entire summer (and country) waiting for them.

What could possibly go wrong?

(The magic of friendship meets the magic of a summer road trip meets pure magic.)

(CAPTAIN SQUAD IS THE BEST SQUAD SOMEBODY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME SOME CAPTAIN SQUAD FICS I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS SQUAD IT'S A PROBLEM AAAAHHHHHH!)

宿縁 : See You Soon by MissKiraBlue

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

Upon arriving at the train station of death, an impure soul is granted a second chance at life against his will. Reincarnating into the body of Kageyama Tobio, a 15-year-old boy who recently committed suicide. Tobio's soul will depart at death and the soul needs to slip in to replace it. If the soul's reformation succeeds, he’ll reenter the cycle of rebirth and regain the right to be reborn. He will have three months to accomplish this task.

“Even though you had enough of life,” the soul whispered into the void of the room, “you were still afraid to hurt your hands, Tobio.”

Afraid of giving himself a scar, if he survived.

He touched his pulse and grasped life and couldn’t help but pity Kageyama Tobio.

"You wanted to die and now I’m here making you live again," he whispered into the night.

(I'm not even exaggerating when I say out of all the fics in this entire goddamn, too long list, this is the fic I'm anticipating and heart eyeing the most. It's only starting, but I already cried on chapter fucking 2, the power of this fic, holy shit. The author also wrote the hq time loop Every Tomorrows series, which I have an undying love for and am full on praying for the day it updates, so you KNOW this fic will be just as good. (Anybody who hasn't read this series, where the hell have you been?? Read it!!) Just, everything about this fic hurts me and something in my chest just aches when I read this fic. Go into it blind with an open heart and I swear to you, it's going to change your life. I'm already calling it. Seriously though, please please read!)

[Crossover]

Learning to Fly by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, Naruto

The number three hero is a walking (well, flying) contradiction in every sense of the word. This includes his teaching skills. Why had Tokoyami agreed to this internship again? Oh right. He’d thought he was actually going to learn something. …….remind him to never be so optimistic again. . . . OR, Kakashi Hatake is reincarnated as the pro hero, Hawks. Tokoyami Fumikage suffers as a result.

(The reincarnation fic I never thought I needed and it's so good!! I've never really paid attention to Tokoyami and this fic sent me headfirst into loving him. Their dynamic is so interesting and I just love how their relationship develops. Also, Kakashi trolling the poor kid made me cackle, it's great! Definitely recommend it!)

Si Vis Pacem by athenoot

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, John Wick

Everything has a price. That's what John has always known and will forever remember, even in death.

Which is pretty ironic considering his current circumstance.

Instead of a grown, scarred, weary body belonging to a man as cruel and broken as him, he's inhabiting a younger, smaller, unblemished one belonging to a child with strangely colored hair, and is living in what seems to be a superhuman society.

Well. May it never be said that John isn't a strategist. He can live with this. Maybe.

(Somewhere out there in the universe, he's certain he could hear the laughter of his enemies from beyond the grave.)

Or: John Wick is reincarnated as Midoriya Izuku. The world should probably watch its back.

(This should be one of the crackiest fics I've read in a while, but it's taken so seriously and I'm so HERE FOR THIS. John Wick being John Wick in a world of quirks and heroes is the GREATEST, honestly, he's so badass. Bakugou, I feel for you, you must be so fucking confused lol. Bakugou trying his best to be a good friend is one of the best things about this fic. Trust me, this fic will make your day, promise!)

A Girl's Mind is a Dangerous Place by clenastia

Fandoms: Naruto, Fairy Tail

Natsu wakes up in Sakura's body. It only gets worse from there. Also known as: In Which Natsu has No Idea what to do with Boobs.

(I binged this in two fucking days, I couldn't put it down. This fic reminded me why I liked fairy tail when I was younger and why Natsu is honestly such a great protagonist, god. And the fic does that thing, you know, the Thing where when two worlds collide, the characters struggle to acclimate and adapt to a completely another world with different rules and mindsets against their own. This fic is seriously one of the best when it comes to that aspect, it's incredible. I am going absolutely feral over here for this fic to update, I'm waiting in the wings, ready to pounce like a tiger, all the metaphors man. For the love of god, read this fic.)

Give me a landscape made of obstacles by Melise

Fandoms: Naruto, Natsume's Book of Friends

Kakashi Hatake isn’t who he says he is.

Because the truth is that he’s actually a youkai in disguise, a wolf spirit named Madara who stumbled across the Hatake clan during the Warring States Period. Intrigued by the shinobi he saw, he’d proposed a temporary alliance in which he would offer the clan protection in exchange for their teachings.

Decades later, Madara is surprised to find himself inadvertently summoned to Konoha by the last living member of the Hatake clan. Sakumo Hatake, who is mourning the recent deaths of his wife and stillborn child, doesn’t want to be alone anymore. So with his permission, Madara takes the place of Sakumo’s deceased son in order to watch over the last Hatake.

(Fusion in which the youkai of Natsume’s Book of Friends all exist in the Naruto world. No knowledge of Natsume’s Book of Friends required).

(Before this fic, I only had a very vague idea of what Natsume's Book of Friends was, and honestly, I still don't know much about it. But I didn't really need to know to get into this fic. I love the worldbuilding and the relationships Kakashi forms, both supernatural and mortal. I love how Kakashi's inhumane ways affect others around him, whether to stress them out or become used to the strange. You can go straight into this fic without knowing anything and absolutely still have a fantastic time. I definitely recommend this so please read!)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Naruto #Harry Potter #Boku no Hero Academia #Stranger Things #Knives Out #Haikyuu!!#Crossover #John Wick #Fairy Tail #Natsume's Book of Friends

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fdd700 · 4 years

Text

Remus wasn’t a very romantic person. He didn’t see the appeal in the fancy dinners or candle lit nights. He just couldn’t understand why people loved them.

Virgil, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, both understood and loved the romantic nights. And, despite his attempts at hiding it, Remus quickly noticed. But Remus knew that Virgil loved him, impulses and all.

“Hey trash panda, have you talked to your brother recently?” Virgil asked as he sat on his phone on the couch across from Remus’ design computer.

“Normally, my dark and stormy night, I do my best to avoid the repulsive royal, so that would be a no.” Remus didn’t look up from his project - some horror anime/cartoon he was acting hush-hush on. Virgil knew it was because it was a trial piece and Remus didn’t want jinx himself.

“He and Jan are going to Morocco.” This caused Remus to spin around in his chair, looking at his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow. “Jan just texted me to let me know he couldn’t come us to that horror convention next month. Apparently Roman got a promotion so he bought the tickets as a surprise.” Remus nodded.

“Why Morocco?” Remus said, about to turn back around.

“I think he’s going to propose.” Remus froze before looking at his boyfriend who was frantically typing on his phone.

“How-”

“Jan has always wanted to get engaged on a foreign holiday. Plus, Lolo and I saw Roman talking to Cindy, you know Patton’s friend, one from the jewellery store downtown,” Virgil explained. “I’m texting him now to ask.” Remus nodded but didn’t say anything. there was silence, except for Virgil’s tapping.

“Not gonna lie,” Remus stated. “I always thought Janus would propose.” Virgil paused before gasping, followed by him chuckling.

“Bet you twenty dollars Janus is also planning to propose.” Remus laughed.

“That’s such a rigged bet, they’re both definitely gonna propose.”

Sure enough, a month later, both boys returned home with engagement rings. The gang - Patton, Logan, Virgil, Remus, Emilie, Remy, Janus and Roman - were all in Logan and Patton’s house for Sunday dinner (a long-standing tradition). Virgil was locked into conversation with Janus, Emilie and Patton, who were both showing off their rings. Virgil was laughing with them. Remus’ eyes were glued to him.

“What's got you so distracted? Worried Virgil-”

“Dude, not funny,” Roman said, cutting Remy off. Remy took a sip from his cup but was otherwise silent. “Remus, what’s up?”

“do you think Virgil is waiting for me to propose?”

“I mean, maybe? Have you talked about marriage?” Remus was silent, thinking.

“Yes and no. We talked about it ages ago but he hasn’t said anything since.”

“Has he dropped hints?” Remy asked. “That’s what Emilie did.”

“Virgil should know I wouldn’t pick up on them.”

“Hey, don’t stress, Rem, Virgil loves you and you love him, that's all that matters,” Roman said.

“That is correct. Maybe Virgil will propose. Patton knew I wouldn’t be able to pick up signs so he just asked me to my face.”

Remus tried to believe them, and he mostly did. Until later that night, when they were playing truth or dare. Logan and Patton were sharing the two-seater. Not quite cuddling but in each other’s personal space. Emilie had his head on Remy’s shoulder on the long couch, with Roman on Janus’ lap at the other end of the couch. Virgil was tucked into Remus’ side as the room turned their attention to him.

“So,” Janus said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Virgil truth or dare?”

“Considering you dared Remy to kiss Patton, I think I’ll go with truth,” Virgil said.

“Well, you wouldn’t tell us earlier, so... what was your dream proposal as a kid?” Virgil turned red.

“Can’t let that one go, no?” Virgil asked and Janus chuckled, shaking his head. “Uhm, pretty sure it was like a candle-lit dinner or something. Probably something cheesy and romantic.” Virgil then quickly moved on, asking Remy something but Remus tuned out again. Was Virgil disappoint with the lack of romance in their relationship? He’s never said anything directly, but why would he bring us Roman proposing on a romantic holiday if not to tell Remus that's what he wanted? Were there any other hints? Was there-

“Remus.” Remus snapped up to Janus’ gleaming eyes. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth. I think my boyfriend was in the right vein,” Remus responded. Janus simply waved dismissively as he went silent, thinking. Almost a moment later, a light bulb flipped on above his head.

“Do you plan on proposing to Virgil?”

“Janus!” Roman said, looking to his fiancé in exasperation.

“It’s a harmless question!” The two bickered slightly, nothing heated but a simply back and forth.

“You don’t have to answer,” Virgil said in a low tone. He had been trying to catch Remus’ eyes, who was just as determined to avoid Virgil’s. Eventually, the smaller man grabbed his chin so they could look into his eyes. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to feel pressured. I love you, okay?”

“I love you too.”

Despite Virgil’s reassurance, Remus was deeply fixated on the thoughts of marriage and if he was enough for Virgil. Virgil liked romance and dancing in the rain and visiting fancy restaurants. Remus liked staying inside and horror films and going to graveyards to adopt ghosts (which scared Virgil so much he learnt how to banish spirits from the house). Remus couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, Virgil was better off without him?

He spun in his chair. He was unable to focus on the novel he was writing anymore. Virgil was at work and wouldn’t be back for ages. Despite trying to work, Remus was now fixated on rings. The truth was, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Virgil but he didn’t see why he needed to buy him a ring or spend thousands of dollars on a wedding to prove his devotion. They bought an apartment together, they had three pissy spirits that they took care of together, and the stray cat that would jump in their window. But if Virgil wanted it, well, who was Remus to say no?

Engagement ring shopping sucked. Plain and simple, it sucked. There were so many different cuts but they all looked so basic. Virgil wasn’t the type to wear flashy jewellery unless it meant something, like the dangly gold earring Remus bough him when he got his masters in psychology. Remus wanted something classy, but all something showed how much Remus knew Virgil, right down to his core. He thought about going to a jewellery shop or hiring someone but how on earth would he be able to explain that to Virgil? In the end, he chose the least expensive route; his brother.

“How do you pick an engagement ring?” Roman choked on his coffee. “What?”

“Try and maybe start a conversation with hello and maybe not something you have never mentioned before now,” Roman said. “But also, why the change in pace?” Remus didn’t say anything. “Is it Janus? he was only messing. He just doesn’t get it sometimes but I told him he need to respect your boundaries-”

“It’s not that.” Roman went quiet, letting his brother speak when comfortable. “I don’t want Virgil to regret being with me. I know that he doesn’t say it but he really likes all the romantic garbage you and Janus do.”

“Remus, Virgil may like romance but he loves you. Plain and simple. But I am your brother and I will support you, so if you need help finding a ring, I will help you,” Roman said sincerely.

“Ugh, you’re so boring and regal. Lighten up. Walk on the gory side.” Roman chuckled.

“I’ll tune it down, but just because you’re my baby brother.”

“Two MINUTES. I AM TWO MINUTES-” Roman burst into laughter, meaning anyone in the cafe who wasn’t staring due to Remus’ screeching, was now looking due to roman’s cackling.

“Come, little wittle Remus, let’s go ring shopping.”

Remus paid for the ring in cash. He had been taking money out of the account for weeks in preparation. Well, a week. Still, he had it all planned out. He could suck it up for a night.

He was spreading flowers on the floor when he noticed the dull ache in his chest. Tell-tale signs of a panic attack. Remus paused before moving to sit down. He closed his eyes and repeated his breathing exercises. He could do this. It’s what Virgil wanted. He stood up again, the dull ache turning into a slight pressure. He lit the candles, checked on the food and cleaned up. It was about half six when he realised, he was struggling to breath. Almost as soon as he noticed, the elephant on his chest returned. He backed up, sliding down the wall.

“no... no... not tonight...” He muttered under his breath. He tried to breath but he realised he was struggling. Why tonight. why was he getting a panic attack tonight? it was just one dinner!

“Re- REMUS!” Virgil said, coming in and sitting in front of his boyfriend. “Can I touch you?” Remus shook his head frantically. “Okay, it’s okay, breath with me okay?” Virgil took his boyfriend through his breathing exercises. “Okay, Rem, I need you to name five things you can see.”

“Chair, lights... uh... you, the table... uh, uhm-” Remus swallowed. “And tiles...”

“Okay, four things you can hear.”

“My breathing, your breathing, the neighbours... the oven?” Virgil reached behind him, switching off the oven.

“Okay, three things you can feel.”

“The floor, my shirt... uhm... sweat?”

“Okay, two things you can taste.”

“Impending doom.” Virgil gave him a look. “Uh, tea and sugar.”

“Okay, finally, one thing you can smell.”

“The candles.” Virgil stood up, switching on the light and blowing out the candles. He finally took in the scene of the room. Remus tried to stand up but was quickly placed down in one of their dining chairs.

“Remus, do you wanna talk about it?” Remus sighed.

“I just... I wanted to plan this big romantic night and I know you like romance but it's just so icky that I must of have been panicked and-” Remus paused, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes. “Look, I know you like romance and I’m sure you’re disappointed I’m not.”

“Remus. I like romance, but I love you.” Remus blinked at him. “I knew what I was getting into when we entered this relationship. You never, ever have to change your boundaries to suit me. Remus, I love you, for you. I know you don’t like romance or pda, but I know that you love me.” Remus didn’t notice he was crying till Virgil wiped the tears from his face. He pressed their foreheads together. “I love you. So much. Romance or not.” Remus held onto his boyfriend. “But I need you to promise to never break your own boundaries for me. I respect the boundaries you put up, and I need you to do the same.”

“I promise.” Virgil smiled and Remus was hit with how overwhelmingly lucky he was to have gotten someone like Virgil to love him. “Ugh,” he groaned. Virgil chuckled.

“What’s up buttercup?”

“Roman was right. I don’t like this timeline.” Virgil just tossed his head back and laughed as Remus whined.

Remus did end up proposing that night. They were watching a horror film and Virgil was critiquing the characters decision when Remus suddenly turned to him.

“I’m just saying, choosing to go down to the creepy basement when you know there’s a serial killer on the loose-”

“Marry me.” Virgil stopped, looking over at his boyfriend. He wasn’t down on one knee but there was a ring in his hands. Virgil’s hand flew to his mouth. “marry me.” Remus sat up.

“You’re not just doing this for me?” he asked, still in a state of shock.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and if this is the next step? then I’m going for it.” Virgil jumped up, wrapping his arms around Remus, already crying.

“Yes, yes, yes! Oh my god, yes!” He pulled back, letting Remus slip on the ring before launching himself and his boyfriend and smashing their lips together. It was here that Virgil, admiring his ring with awe filled eyes, also realised how lucky he was for getting someone like Remus to love him too.

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1dclicheficfest · 3 years

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The time has come, my dears! We’ve compiled, organized and sorted your submissions and we’re ready to share them! We’ve had so much fun reading your clichés and we hope it’ll give you a good laugh.

Important disclaimer because it has to be said: we do not endorse any of the clichés submitted and these are not meant to spark Discourse™ . This is all in good fun, to spark your imagination and perhaps inspire some prompts!

Before we get to the fun part, don’t forget that prompt submissions open on February 1st and will run until March 28th. The full schedule can be found here.

And now, without further ado, here are your brilliant clichés.

HARRY

Green eyes

Huge eyes

Dimples

Always smirking

“The flirt”

Jobs: Works in a flower shop/Used to be a baker/Frat boy/LA socialite/Mermaid

“Quirky”

Clumsy/balance issues

Health nut/Workout junkie/Eats a lot of avocado and kale/loves yoga/gross green health smoothies

Very slow speech

Paints his nails

Beautiful long luscious curly hair

Long legs/large hands

Tall/large/big

Nudity/loves walking around starkers

Obsessed with being pregnant/babies

Kind to everyone

Bites his lip a lot

Tells terrible jokes/loves puns

Naive and oblivious

Clothing: Pearl necklace, Chelsea boots/gold boots/boots in general/Gucci everything/Flared, high-waisted trousers/’red and black sheer floral shirt with black skinny jeans’

Always unbuttons his shirt to show off tattoos

Baby seal laugh

Bad at driving

Hipster/takes artsy photos

Acting out for attention/Petty jealousy for no reason or because of a misunderstanding or when anyone comes near Louis

Bad dancer that gives it his all/makes awkward shapes with his limbs when trying to dance

Cat mom/Wine aunt

Resting bitch face

Rides a motorcycle

LIAM

Little clueless

Insecure

Louis is constantly messing with him

Roommates with Louis

Puppy/a lost puppy/puppy in human form/puppy eyes/puppy who doesn’t know how hot and strong he is/loves puppies

Manly muscle man/buff af/loves working out/sweet himbo beefcake

Bullied in the past

Giant heart/incredibly kind/soft/super loyal

Worry-wart/mother hen of the band/gets nervous when things don’t go to plan

Voice of reason/the responsible one/Daddy Direction/level-headed/most serious of the five/keeps the others grounded

Doesn’t know how to let loose and have fun

Lacking in experience/innocent about sex things

Oblivious to his feelings/other people’s feelings for him

Jobs: Firefighter/boxer/athlete

Super soft for Zayn

Protective

“Wants to cry as soon as Louis opens his mouth and doesn’t know if it’s because he’s scared, because it’s too funny, or because he just can’t handle any of it.”

Fear of spoons

Timid/

“being very shy/awkward in the beginning and then getting more confident because of Louis”

Snake habitat turn around!

Can’t spell

His turtle losing a foot

“Smelly pasta house”

Loves batman

Being alpha in ABOs

Unruly curly hair then trimmed to a crisp buzz

LOUIS

Blue eyes: ocean blue/blue as the sky on a sunny winter day/twinkle eyes

Arse and/or tummy as a defining feature

Sassy/sass master/feisty/snarky/cheeky/witty/playful/funny/sarcastic/joker

Flamboyant

Heart of gold/”Louis IS the sun”

“Does not suffer fools gladly (that’s your job you fooking loosah)”/hot-headed to pick fights only in defense of those he loves

Protective/Mama bear/loyal/Daddy of the group

Small/Dainty stature emphasized

Runs fingers through his fringe/hair always styled

Jobs: Footie player, teacher, drama teacher, actor, plays in a band

Loves music and writes songs

Plays footie (even if it’s not his job)

LOUD

Can’t cook/chicken wrapped in parma/”Can’t cook to save his life and if he does the kitchen ends up in flames”

Soft with Harry

School: Studying drama, being the bad boy, pop!punk Louis

Bratty/petty/snappy

Smoking

Zayn’s partner in crime

Rooms with Liam

Calls everyone ‘love’/uses too many terms of endearment

Yorkshire accent emphasized/always talks about Doncaster

Clothing: Vans or Adidas shoes/Toms/trackies/braces/red jeans/dressing in comfortable clothes only/no socks/scarf

Very good with kids/loves kids/family-oriented/looking after siblings/having a huge family

Eats junk food only

“The gay who cannot drive”

NIALL

Drinks a lot/Drinks everyone under the table because he’s Irish/Guinness lover/fun drunk/Will sing Gaelic folk songs when drunk/big social drinker-always making friends via alcohol/will kiss anyone when drunk

Food: Eats all the food/doesn’t season his food/loves Nando’s/”100% will take the last slice of pizza and not feel bad about it”/can and will eat you out of house and home/actually eats and cooks healthy but everyone thinks the opposite

Irish/Irish and proud/Wey Hey lads!/leprechaun Niall

Carefree/nothing bothers him

Romantic: falls fast and hard

Captain Niall!/Captain of the ship(s)

Music: guitar always present/Goes into the zone when he has an instrument in his hands - nothing will distract or get through to him/The Eagles fanboy/Damien Rice fanboy

Funny/always laughing/joking around/head back cackle of a laugh

Single/hooks up with a ton of people but no serious relationships/sleeps around/Serial Ladies man/Friends with benefits with multiple people at once/

Turns up the charm 100% and never half-asses it/”Scrunches his hair in thought and knows he looks cute doing so (like girls that purposefully bite their lip)”

Friends with literally everyone/has a thousand surface-level friends that think they’re close to him but keeps all at arm’s length/the greatest friend but also pickiest about who he becomes friends with

Clothing: Constantly shirtless/shorts over trousers/flip-flops as house shoes/gold chain/coin necklace/hoop earring/”golf dad that tucks in his shirts and unironically wears polos”

Obsessed with golf and football/practices his putt in the hallway with an empty loo roll

A bro

Secretly insightful/Tactless but gives essential advice as a result

Secretive/keeps his shit quiet/Definitely the guy with the most secrets

The blond one

Hairy chest

Worst poker face

Finger guns/peace signs

Blushes when he’s excited

Adores Shawn and Lewis

Cares a lot about what others think

Says no judgment but really judges a lot/judges you based on music taste

Rings in at 0 on the gaydar but could surprise you/the only het one

Tries to avoid conflict by remaining ‘on the fence’ and not picking a side

Always the roommate

Face mask selfies

Emotions rotate between sad, sexy, and fun - combination vary

Never a villain

Close with Harry

“Violent masturbating in the next room”

Constant pet names for everyone/”Even has pet names for his devices (like his vacuum robot”

ZAYN

Super smart/nerd/wise/The Ravenclaw

Smokes a lot

Secretly very soft/gentle/biggest heart/”His confidence and aloofness hide a sensitive heart of gold”/Bad boy secretly soft

Heart-eyes at Liam/Soft with Liam/”Lee-yum”

Mysterious eyes

Best friends with Louis

Jobs: Artist, tattoo artist, English teacher who loves art, works in comic book store,

Shy/withdrawn/mysterious/brooding best friend/quiet/”Seems intimidating until you realize he’s just shy”/bad boy outside, soft boy inside/”not as cool as he seems but way sweeter”

The artistic one/tortured artist/art student/skater/also does graffiti/spray-paint

Marvel fan/comic book fan/superhero fan

Clothing: Wears his clothes like armor/leather jacket/”He’s the only one with good taste and he knows it”

Most ‘devil may care’ about his sexuality

Family-oriented/family man

Involved with his religion

Model figure/carved by gods/vain but not obnoxious about it

Catchprase is ‘sick’

Needs time alone to recharge

Changes his hair a lot/that one strand of hair that falls over his eyes

Thinks Malibu is called Malabami

“Eats candy underwear off of Harry’s crotch”

#1dclicheficfest #cliche results #resources #masterpost #character cliches

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jjk-biased · 4 years

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yoongi x reader

requested by @ughtear ( Hi! I was just able to see your post and I was wondering if I could request prompt 3+1 (three times he proposes and the one time you say yes) with Yoongi? The idea of it makes me so soft! Also, I’m new at requesting so I don’t know what format is 🥺)

genre: fluff

words: 1.8k of cute stuff!!

synopsis: 3+1 (Three times Yoongi proposes and the one time you say yes)

masterlist | events masterlist

Kindergarten was such a hassle for young Yoongi. Coloring within the lines and connecting the dots were too exhausting and all he wanted was for nap time to come. He should be at home sleeping with his blanket in hand. Hatred for school aside, Yoongi wasn’t very social. He was a shy boy who would rather listen to some tunes even if he didn’t understand the lyrics that well.

Well, he couldn’t exactly hate school.

There was this girl who always approached him, someone he could say was his friend. During recess, when the noisy kids stumble their way towards the outside, he could be seen sluggishly lagging behind as he talks (well, listens) to this girl in messy pigtails and pink overalls share her entire life story.

Y/N Y/L/N.

You were a very cheerful kid who, despite the very young age, could easily detect and adapt to people’s attitudes. Unlike the ever-bratty Sohee who cried because Yoongi wasn’t giving her the compliments she wanted about her new Sailor Moon bag from mommy or the annoying Taka who demanded he play heroes with Yoongi, you knew your limits.

Whatever that meant to two toddlers.

Yoongi liked you the most. You were a fun person to be with. You would let him nap when he wanted to and you always gave him the dog stickers from the prizes you get for being a good kid. You would give him some of your snacks (except for the juice boxes, he knew you loved those so much) and would wait for him when recess starts.

So one day, little Yoongi asked his parents what it meant to like a friend so much and what he should do about it (well of course, he messily relayed his story because he would get off track and tell them about the dog he saw). His dad wanted to poke fun and tell him something he didn’t understand anyway.

“What’s marriage?”

“Well, Yoongi, it’s when you like your friend so much that you want to be friends with them for life!” His dad replied, earning a smack on the head from his mother because that was wrong on many levels.

“I’m gonna marriage n/n!!” Little Yoongi cheered, or rather grinned but that was already the most he could express before going back to watching his favorite show.

The next day, without his mother knowing, Yoongi’s father told him to give you flowers if he wanted to “marriage” you. Yoongi giggled as he pocketed the little rose that his dad handed over before skipping to school.

He liked being friends with you so much that he wanted to “marriage” you. But he wasn’t expecting the news he’d received that day.

You had to move to Seoul with your father after your parents separated, leaving little Yoongi in Daegu with a crumpled little rose.

The next time he saw you was in high school. Obviously, you weren’t the messy pigtails and pink overalls n/n anymore but that was the latest memory of you that Yoongi could remember. To see you, nimbly looking at your fingers as the teacher introduced you to the class as the transferee -- it overwhelmed him. A good kind of overwhelming he supposed.

But with Yoongi being Yoongi, he didn’t want to approach you first. For all he knew, you could’ve forgotten the little Yoongi who usually wore blue shirts and loved dogs. He wanted to approach you, he really does, but with his reputation as one of the quiet basketball players of Daegu High and the possibility of you being questioned by his so-called fans, he couldn’t.

To his surprise, you approached him the same way you did when you were little. With a “Is that you Yoon?” from you and a rare gummy smile from him, the two best friends were once again joined by the hip.

“I can’t believe Min ‘I hate moving’ Yoongi is a basketball player,” You snorted, staying close to your only friend in your high school as he goes to the gym.

“Well I can’t believe Y/L/N ‘I’m never taking my pigtails off’ Y/N isn’t wearing pigtails anymore,” Yoongi replied, chuckling a bit at your embarrassment.

“Sh-Shut up!”

Your friendship was easily built again, it was stronger even. You didn’t mind the occasional “You’re my love rival but Yoongi will be mine” declarations that you got once a week (surprisingly, more than half of the female population loved the quiet, basket-ball loving types. )

They should see Yoongi in a pet store, you snickered.

“Hey! Why are you laughing at me?! You think you’re better than me!?”

Ah right… You forgot… Sohee, you remembered her as the girl who seemed to like Yoongi in kindergarten, was also issuing a “love war” with you for your best friend’s heart.

“Not really, darling. I just think you’re stupid… But you didn’t hear that from me,” You cackled just as Yoongi arrived to get your ass out of there.

That morning aside, the school had finally opened their festival. Your class prepared a cafe-like service where everyone cosplayed (you had no say in it) and you were sadly and unwillingly put in a maid costume. Perhaps it was karma for calling Sohee stupid. Yoongi got lucky and was just put in a simple prince costume.

“I don’t think this is fair,” You sighed, tugging at your skirt so it could cover more skin. Yoongi grunted, somehow also unhappy that he had to dress up as some lame ass prince.

“Stop whining, short-stack. At least your legs are covered. Now let’s go around to check the other booths,” You huffed, dragging a reluctant Yoongi around.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.

Class 3-A and 3-B somehow agreed to combine their booths. It would’ve been a harmonious unification had their booths been something other than the ones they had: A marriage and a jail booth.

The little shits changed their rules and made it into something you thought was so funny. Some idiots from 3-B would “jail” and handcuff you to some poor victim that would also get caught and from there, you had two choices: pay 5,000 won to be set free or get married for only 500won. It was genius and you would’ve made a lot of moola because you’re also a little shit. But you were one of the victims. Fuck.

So here you were now, being dragged by Taka, another someone from your childhood, to 3-A’s marriage booth for your very unfortunate fate.

“Why is she alone, you idiot? You gotta handcuff two people for it to work,” 3-A’s president chided upon noticing you were the only one handcuffed. Luckily, Yoongi trailed along (to laugh at you or use this as blackmail, you weren’t sure). He seemed so ticked off when Taka dragged you though.

“Well,” Taka smirked as he raised his free arm, “it can always be me.”

Horrified at his very forward advances, you cringed and silently cried for Yoongi’s help. Before you could voice out your dislike, however, Yoongi had already pulled you from Taka’s hold.

“Marry me, Y/N.”

Your face immediately turned into different shades of red. You were too speechless to even respond to him shoving Taka away and handcuffing himself to you. Some of the people who were in 3-A’s room gasped because even they couldn’t believe that this was happening. Yoongi was nervous, it was embarrassing after all, but it wasn’t obvious in any way. You were about to give him his answer but then...

“NO!!”

Sohee crashed the wedding before it could even start and 3-A’s president let you guys go as an apology for the commotion.

You couldn’t forget that day… especially when you almost answered yes.

Perhaps it was inevitable. Your friends and their mothers seem to have already known what was ahead before you two got there. But eventually, you and Yoongi got together. You already knew he wanted to pursue a music career and were more than supportive when he decided to sign under a small company named BigHit.

While together, you two worked your best to pay your rent and debts. You two ran away from Daegu after none of your parents approved of your career choices, with him and his dream to be a producer and you and your dream of arts. It was hard having to leave your comfortable life in your little hometown but having Yoongi with you helped a lot.

A few years later, your boyfriend (now changed into the rapper and producer of the idol group BTS) found out that his company loosened its strict ban on dating and he was finally able to introduce you to his friends. (though they knew Yoongi had someone in his heart, they were never able to put a face to it)

Your favorite member (shh don’t tell anyone) had to be Hoseok. He can easily lift everyone’s spirits up and he displayed so much warmth when Yoongi introduced you to the guys.

There was a reason why Hoseok was so easy to hang out with. He was the first to know that Yoongi had someone in his life and would often come to him when he wanted to talk about you (there were times he was so excited about you that he wanted to tell everyone,,, thankfully he had hobi to talk to). So it was like Hoseok already knew you before he could meet you. Because of that, Hoseok was the middleman. The person who would be the voice of reason if you two fought. You also went to Hoseok about Yoongi, especially because you still weren’t allowed to tell the world that you were with Min “BTS’ Rapper and Producer” Yoongi.

Hoseok was also the first one to know when Yoongi had plans of proposing. He was aware of your history and would always laugh whenever you’d describe a jealous high schooler Yoongi yanking you away from some random named Taka.

It had to be one of the most painful things for Hoseok when he was told to keep quiet of the surprise. He was bubbling with excitement that day and was mirroring Yoongi’s eagerness to finally ask you the question you’ve been denied of answering since.

After a simple dinner out, you both decided to walk in a quiet park (it was quite late so no one was around). Yoongi inhaled, unconsciously gripping your hand quite tightly, and looked for the velvet box with his other.

You stopped at some point to gaze at the comforting contrast of the night with the city lights but you felt Yoongi halt in his tracks so you turned around.

There he was, one knee on the ground as he grinned that gummy smile of his that you’ll never get tired seeing, with the question you’ve been wanting to answer for your whole life.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

“Yes.”

It took Yoongi three times to propose to you, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

permanent taglist: @luvinseokjinnie @97faerie @amoreguk @bbyjoonies @borednia @tanumiki @taescake

#will you marry me #bts #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #fluff #yoongi imahine #yoongi x you #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #suga x reader #friends to lovers #f2l

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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I Wanna Ruin Our "Friendship" (Taywhora) - Vena

"You know, ‘galpal’ things can be nerve-wracking when you’re a gay, nervous wreck." Or it could simply be that Tayce used that as a shitty excuse to kiss Aurora without making things awkward.

a/n. An excuse to write vanilla Taywhora smut lmao. That's about it!

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“You know, ‘galpal’ things can be nerve-wracking when you’re a gay, nervous wreck,” Bimini calls out. Aurora, thus far, has been in a - slightly, mind you! - shocked state for quite a few seconds, her eyes wandering around like crazy as she tried to recall everything that had just happened.

Typhoon Tayce, that’s what happened.

Before she got to Black Cherry, it was all going as it usually went: the three girls piled up at Bimini’s, insulted each other then hyped each other up, put on pretty clothes (“Except for Tia,” Aurora would say), and took one first shot to get the night started.

Aurora looked through Bimini’s wardrobe to see if she could find something nice enough to “borrow” then never give back, going past the huge faux fur jacket with the leopard print and the collection of lime green slash neon pink shirts with a cleavage cut that barely covered their nipples.

“A button-up shirt, Bims?”

“Do you love it? Bought it for like, two dollars at a thrift store.”

“I mean,” Aurora said, “it’s pretty, but I wouldn’t wear it.”

Bimini’s scandalous laugh echoed through the room. “Try it on, babes!”

“Absolute clownery. I would never wear a button-up shirt. Especially not when going to a club,” Aurora said and grabbed her phone to scroll through Instagram, all too oblivious to the fact Tia had just finished buttoning up her yellow pineapple print shirt. Not that Tia would mind her words; after all, every day was Insulting Tia’s Fashion Choices Day for Aurora. Usual teasing. And she was okay with it.

“Much rather squash yourself into a tube dress that barely reaches the bottom of your knickers, right, Rory?” Tia counter-attacks. The Kofi Strikes Back.

Aurora rolled her eyes, laughing a bit. She grabbed the brush sitting by Bims’ nightstand and started combing the taller girl’s hair. “At least someone in this group has the chance to end the night up being pounded right. Bimini’s turned into a nun after meeting that guy Joey, and you have always dressed like you're 50-something. Therefore, I’m the hottest hoe out of yous.”

“ ’That guy Joey’, huh?” Bimini’s head peaked out of the bathroom door. “When will you stop calling him that? It’s been, what, nine months?”

“Yeah, and where is Bims a nun now? Those shorts are really living up to the short part. It’s leather, for fuck’s sake…” Tia groaned as a sharp pain went through her, coming straight from her scalp. “Ouch, you hound! Also, not everybody wants to end the night up being pounded, you know? Not shagging with a different stranger every week is also fun, maybe you should try it out sometime.”

“Yeah, you hound, not everybody likes syphilis!” Bimini yells from the bathroom. They all laugh.

Aurora yells back, “surely that doesn’t include you!”, and Bimini mumbles a small “not a joke, just a fact”.

The blondie put the brush away and landed a tiny kiss in Tia’s hair. She got off the bed, smacked Aurora in the arse, slightly touched by all that affection. “You know, when we first met, I first thought you were merely a bitchy prat. But now I realize I was absolutely correct all along. Although, I still love you.”

“I love being insulted for free!” the blondie blurted out. “Anyways. We should get going. It’s almost nine. Bims is taking the longest time to put on such little fabric on their tiny body and it’s pissing me off.”

“Oi!” Bimini yelled, still in the bathroom. “Can’t rush perfection!”

Tia stopped by the bathroom door and blew them a kiss. “Have fun staying home then, hound.” After that, they were quick to grab their respective belongings and order a cab.

London was not a quiet town, moreso on Friday nights. Everybody wanted to go out for drinks, chats, maybe even getting lucky, who knows? As a consequence, there were lots of clubs down that area, although, to the girls, none of them matched Black Cherry - their favorite.

Could be because Joey, the owner, had the hots for Bimini ever since they first met - they matched up quite well, ended up shagging then dating - so it was free drinks for the three of them. There was more to it, though: the atmosphere, the people, the location. Felt like magic whenever they stepped inside, letting the music consume them (not the usual upbeat pop they had around the other clubs, the songs were picked very carefully by Ellie, their quote-unquote, “DJ”).

Aurora would deny it always and forever, but there was a bigger reason for her to always try to look her best every Friday night. And it had a name, time, and a beautiful pair of hands: Tayce, who always arrived a bit past ten (after making her friends wait for a solid half-hour), who was the embodiment of a moon child, who was the life of the dance floor.

Tayce was ridiculous. That was the only proper word Aurora could think of to describe her. Ridiculously beautiful, ridiculously smart, ridiculously nice.

First of all, great fashion. Tayce stood out with that astounding b&w jacket dress and those thigh-high boots (Aurora loved thigh-high boots more than watching Project Runway whilst eating Percy Pigs, ad that means something ). Not to mention her hair seemed as if it that been tailored by the most royal of silkworms. Black, straight (unlike her, as Aurora would soon find out), and downy. Tayce’s skin tone reminded her of milk chocolate or Nutella, or maybe she was just hungry. Her eyes were two beautiful almonds (she was definitely hungry) and her plump, glossy lips were so full. and. kissable. Um…

Pretty. Ridiculously pretty.

And social. Tayce chatted with anyone who approached her, even the drunken blokes far too hammered to realize she was way out of their league who tried to get some. Friendly, but not like she would just let anyone get a hold of her. Aurora searched for the word in the confines of her brain, though it was hard… Assertive? Chatty? Someone who seemed to belong to the world? The word was right there…

“Confident.”

“What?” Aurora asked.

“The word is confident, babes.” Bimini hugged her waist. “You keep saying those things aloud, she might notice it in a while! That is if she hasn’t already…”

Aurora rolled her eyes and left them to it. They always went to the club together but parted ways after a few moments: Aurora could be found nearly shagging with some girl on the dance floor, Bimini went upstairs to do who-knows-what with Joe and Tia just danced her brains out - she truly did not need anyone to make her night better, apart from Lady Gaga and Kylie Minogue. By midnight, the blondie was far too gone, could barely remember her own name, but boy was she having the time of her life.

Somehow, whilst dancing (trying to - she was not the best dancer ever, truth be told), she bumped into Ms. Tall, Dark & Handsome

“Oh, nightie, Tayes! You look stunning tonight, by the way.”

“Rory, hi.” Tayce gave her an awkward hug. “You sound absolutely plastered.”

“No that, just… my voice is horse- I mean, hoarse - tonight.” Aurora cackled at herself. Words really were not her favorite thing (the perks of being dyslexic), and those few too many shots only aggravated her situation. “What I’m trying to say is…”

Tayce nodded and giggled. God, even her goddamn giggle was beautiful. Aurora wanted to drown in her. “You’re absolutely plastered.”

“Not that!”

“You are,” Tayce laughed, which caused the other girl to laugh as well. She was so damn cute. “Wanna know a secret?” Aurora nodded. “I am too.”

They both exploded in laughs, finding everything so damn funny besides all the nonsense they were saying. Just like every other Friday night, Tayce and Aurora chit-chat for a while. They were not friends, more like known strangers, but being regulars of the same club for so long meant their faces, voices, and presence were not that foreign to one another. And, since drunken A’whora was oh-so-sociable, of course, they would talk sometime.

(Because sober Aurora was too much of a chicken to reach out to Tayce. Imagine actually talking to a girl that beautiful without some alcohol in one’s system… She was friendly, yeah, but also intimidating as hell. Maybe because she was insanely attractive. Or it could be her eyebrows. Why was she even thinking about that right now, when they were discussing clothes and college stuff? Where did that come from?)

Whatever.

At a given moment, Where Have You Been Came on the speakers. And the way Aurora’s eyes sparkled as she started hopping in her place, yelling out the lyrics, looking like the happiest bitch in the world made Tayce’s heart kind of… race?

She had felt that a few times for Aurora, but it is hard not to when she’s just that pretty. And Tayce liked pretty girls. A lot. A whole lot.

As the end of the song approached and Aurora calmed down from all the “that’s my song!” and “Rihanna, I love you!”, Tayce didn’t even notice her body acting up against her will (or was it?), leaning forwards and forwards and grabbing the blondie by the neck. “You just look so pretty right now. I love your smile.”

The tension could’ve been cut with a damn knife, given how they were staring at each other. Confused, but into it. What the actual fuck , Aurora thought. Maybe she’s just way too drunk. Maybe she’s about to pass out and-

Tayce kissed her. And kissed her, and kissed her, and touched her. It was hurried, filled with luxury, as though they needed each other’s lips to keep them alive. Full of a desperation neither knew existed. Aurora could have never seen it coming, for she saw the tall girl as an untouchable being - because of some stupid reason. Tayce could have never seen it coming, for she didn’t believe she would have the guts (even intoxicated Tayce!) to do it anyways.

Turns out she did. Who knew?

As they parted, Tayce noticed the surprise that still took over Aurora’s face. Fuck? So she did what she did best: create a distraction. With a bright smile, all teeth and gums, Tayce said “galpal things.”

And they both laughed it off, as Aurora walked away trying to process everything out, almost instantly sobered out from the shock.

“Tayce just kissed me. No like, The Tayce just kissed me.”

“We’ve seen it,” Bimini replied.

“No, but she kissed me!”

“We’ve seen it,” Tia replied.

“Then she said it was ‘galpal’ things, Bims, Tee, I’m…?”

Finally, finally , we reach the start once again. Properly contextualized, this time. Bimini’s hand rested against her bare shoulder. “You know, ‘galpal’ things can be nerve-wracking when you’re a gay, nervous wreck.”

Tia shrugged. “The perks of being a lesbian. Y’all never know shite! She could take your bitch ass to Paris and ask you to marry her during the most romantic date in the world and you would still be all oh-she-wants-to-be-friends-that’s-all, no wonder she dismissed it as being galpal things.”

“So you think she meant it?”

“Babes. Please. She grabbed your titties. That’s not a girl-friends thing, it’s a girlfriends thing.”

Aurora blushed hard, her ears so red it could be seen even under the club’s dim purple lights. “Suddenly you’re not that fitting for the nickname A’whora. Who’s the nun now?” Bimini teased.

Aurora laughed, back to her normal, usual state. Not that shy, lost mess, totally not confused as to why Tayce (The Tayce!) would ever want anything to do with her. “How can I be a prude if Tayce was grabbing my tits about three minutes ago?”

“Can’t be arsed.”

“But,” Tia said, “you should go to her, yanno? She could be your special one for the night.”

Tia was (as usual) correct.

[...]

There was no way of explaining how on Earth they both got to Aurora's apartment in such a short time. Her excitement was showing, as well as her nervousness. She had not been this close to her like, ever (!). As soon as the front door was closed, Aurora threw the girl to the sofa and climbed on top of her, the tension stronger than ever before. And, as Tayce’s fingers sneaked under the hem of her dress, right at the middle of her thigh, Aurora could have sworn there was nothing, nothing else in the world she wanted more than having the girl’s lips on hers once more.

“Please…,” she managed to let out. “Can we kiss… again?”

Tayce smiled wide (which made Aurora’s guts do flips and jumps that would put Olympic champs to shame) before leaning in agonizingly slow and trapping Aurora on her once again. With her piercing gaze, soft lips, and firm hands that wandered around everywhere she could reach; Aurora was a goner for her.

"Take me to your room," Tayce asked.

There was truly no sight like it, having such an astoundingly pretty woman in her bedsheets. Aurora let her hand fall to Tayce’s thighs, pulling her closer and already tugging at the band of her underwear. Tayce’s lips twisted in a seductive smirk, the same smug look she carried with her all night. Aurora sometimes thought that was her resting face. Not that she was complaining, for it was so. damn. charming. “Thought you’d be the one receiving tonight…”

And, impulsive slag she was, couldn’t revise the words before they came to exist. “I’m ambidextrous.” Oh no. She’s laughing. That wasn’t sexy. Did I just ruin the mood or…?

“Good to know. I’m right-handed most of the time, you know,” Tayce said, grabbing Aurora’s hand and placing her right one underneath. And, damn, Aurora tried hard not to follow her every movement, but Tayce’s hands were simply mesmerizing and she couldn’t help herself. Long fingers. Black nail polish, so perfect it seemed she either got it done that day or never did dishes in her lifetime. Soft skin.

Fuck.

(She knows it’s weird, okay. Being caught way too many times staring endlessly at people’s hands and dealing with the embarrassment that washed over her face once someone else noticed was more than enough reminder. But, like aforementioned: she couldn’t help herself.)

“You like them?” Tayce arched her brow, eyes pointing to her hands. The blondie gulped. She really was not subtle, was she? “Talk to me, princess.”

“I- I do. I love your hands.”

From there, Tayce’s hand made way to Aurora’s chin. Held her in place then guided her neck upwards till she was exposed enough for Tayce to abuse the area however she wanted. Started out with small pecks here and there, whilst her thumbs traced tiny circles in Aurora’s collarbone. The blondie was slowly melting under her kisses, although she stiffened up once Tayce’s tongue met her skin. The touch was warm, wet, and welcome. It made Aurora squirm, whine at a low volume. Her legs pressed together and kept moving to find a position that would at least help her a bit. Yes, she was extremely easy to rile up and the other girl could definitely tell that just from that brief moment. And Tayce enjoyed it. A lot.

Still licking and sucking her neck, Tayce tried her best to get rid of the tight black dress Aurora was wearing. She felt her zipper being slowly pulled down, the night breeze a lovely contrast to the warmth that emanated from Tayce’s body. And from between her thighs.

“Take this off for me, would ‘ya?” Tayce asked, already fumbling with the lock of the blondie’s bra. Aurora was more than happy to oblige if that meant Tayce would call her princess once again, and in no time she was wearing nothing but her underwear and the black stockings. Tayce grabbed her breast once again, making her shudder from the intensity of her touches. It felt different for she was almost naked, no more fabrics keeping them apart. Better. Tayce flicked one of her nipples with her fingers before lowering her mouth and sucking it hard enough to earn her the loudest moan yet.

“Please, Tayes… Um…”

“What, princess? Tell me.”

Aurora grabbed her face and planted a kiss in her mouth.“Bite me,” she ordered.

Tayce smiled. That girl truly was something else. Switching between shy and demanding, begging then ordering. Made Tayce want to get to know all her sides. She had always thought Aurora was a figure, with her huge blonde curls, short dresses, and her way of flirting with everything that moved - be it seducing random men in the bars for the free drinks or trying to get on with a girl. It was fun, really, observing her from far away and periodically making small talk. Her interest in Aurora started to be more because of how her eyes crinkled when she smiled, her laid-back attitude, and her presence rather than for her spectacular pair of legs.

Plus, there was no denying it. Aurora was gorgeous.

Tayce obeyed her. Bit the tip of her nipple, at first lightly just to test Aurora out. By the way she was writhing and moaning underneath her, Tayce knew it was working. So she sucked it again, letting her tongue wander around the soft, fair skin, leaving red marks wherever she touched. Then went back to biting, closing her teeth around the hard bud a bit harsher than before, just to find Aurora really, really enjoyed it.

Aurora left a trail of sweet kisses on the girl’s hair, drunk not only on alcohol but also on her smell. Tayce was driving her insane, and they had not even been doing much. W ith one shift move, the blondie straddled Tayce’s body, trapping her between her legs. “Thought you liked being under?”

“You got it wrong, pretty baby.” Tayce’s breath hitched once Aurora grabbed her thighs, spreading them further apart. The blondie’s hand sneaked through her skirt, quickly finding her already damp underwear and playing with her clit through the thin lace. “I like… fuck, um, being fucked , not necessarily… under. Fuck, Rory.”

She had never heard Tayce’s voice sound so small and desperate as when she was grinding against the back of her hand. Fuck, Tayce was wet. “Feels good, baby?” Aurora managed to ask.

“Hm, yes… Need… need more.”

Aurora pulled Tayce’s panties off, and it slid through her legs till they reached the floor. Tayce spread her legs out even more whilst holding her skirt up, wanting nothing, nothing more than Aurora to just fuck her as she wanted.

“You’re so fucking hot, Tayes… God, you’re wet.”

Tayce smiled smugly once again. “Like it? All for you- ah! Fuck.” She couldn’t keep her volume down once Aurora dropped to her knees and stuck her tongue out, licking right above her folds and fumbling her clit up and down. She smiled at the reactions Tayce was having, already having her hands entangled in Aurora’s curls, trying to guide her head. But oh, she would not let Tayce have her way so easily. Aurora sucked her thighs, her stomach. Lifted her leg and gave her a slap in the ass. Tayce had to hold her position with both hands, but the moans got louder the closer Aurora got to her center.

“Rory, be a darling and do what you gotta do!”

Aurora kissed her thigh once more. She was up for some teasing, definitely. “Weren’t you the one who made me ask for everything just now? Tell me what you want, Tayes.”

“Eat me out. Right now.” Aurora arched a brow. “… Please.”

“Good girl.” Tayce didn’t even have time to register the pet name properly before Aurora went down on her. Straight to her swollen, wanting clit. She kissed it, sucked the very tip before pulling it back and exposing her even more; that was when she started to rapidly flick her tongue against it.

“Fuck, Rory, just like that… Ah, fuck.”

Aurora’s middle finger pressed against Tayce’s entrance. The other hand helped keep her in place.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” Tayce was far too gone to care about her cool image. She just wanted Aurora inside her as soon as possible. And Aurora gave it to her, how could she deny such a thing? She forced two of her fingers against the girl’s entrance. She did not need much though, for Tayce was dripping wet Aurora thrust her fingers in and out, curving her knuckles frantically inside of Tayce to reach her spot. By the sounds she was making, absolutely wrecked and stupid, it was working damn well. “More. More, Rory, fuck…”

Aurora was rapturous having that woman moaning her name like crazy. She had fucked a lot of people during her lifetime, but this was something else. The haunting thought she was simply a one-night stand for Tayce made her frown, but her brain was so full of all-things-Tayce she simply dismissed it quickly. She was there, Tayce was there and making her feel like the only woman in the world. She wanted nothing but to please her girl.

My girl? She’s not my girl. Stop thinking!

“Rory, more, please, use your tongue again, ah- fuck… Yes, fuck, you’re so good...” Aurora hummed in satisfaction against her, which caused a bolt to run through Tayce’s body. “Oh, fuck. I’m … getting… close, princess…”

Princess. Aurora did not know a simple word could have such an effect on her. Her hands started working faster, fucking Tayce harder, harder, harder until she could not take it anymore. Tayce was squirming, shaking, her legs could not stay still. She had to let it out. She had to. Had to. “Fuck, I’m so close, fuck…” Aurora increased the speed of her tongue as well. Her clit was so damn sensitive it hurt. She needed release, so bad, so bad, so bad and...

“Fuck!” Tayce cried out as an orgasm washed over her body, pulling Aurora’s head even closer to her, rocking her hips back and forth against her fingers whilst Aurora pumped them in and out the fastest she could, helping the girl ride her high. “Ah, Rory, fuck… Fuck.” Tayce’s previously shaking body had lost all its tension. She felt like jello. A cute smile lit up her face. “Fuuuck. That was good.”

Aurora climbed back up to her bed. She seemed just as content. “Was it?”

Tayce rolled her eyes. “Yeah, ask as if you didn’t just watch me cum my brains out for you. Of course, it was good! Whoa.” Aurora’s right hand peeked inside her own damp panties. “Do you want some help over there, princess?”

“No, just stay there looking pretty. I’ll cum in no time, I swear to you.”

And Tayce did as told, losing herself in Aurora’s lips as the blondie rubbed herself with tiny circles, moaning against the kisses every now and then. She was so worked up from getting Tayce off, relishing in the memories of her whimpers and her taste and just… everything. It really took no time for Aurora to get closer and closer and closer and cum all over her own hands. Fucking hell, she was satisfied. Very satisfied.

“I like you.” Tayce intertwined her fingers around Aurora’s slick, wet hand before guiding it to her mouth and licking it clean. It was kinda hot, but her eyes were so wide and doe if seemed almost… innocent. As if they had not spent the past few minutes fucking like horny teens. It was cute somehow. “I know we barely converse, but you’re pretty, fun, and sexy as hell. And girl, talk about that tongue! So… if you’re interested in like, going on a date, I’m so down.”

Aurora chuckled. “Hah. Thought I’d be a one-night stand.”

“Same. You always have a different girl with you… But thought I should shoot my shot since we came all the way here. Literally, came…” they both smiled. “So… what do you say?”

“I’d absolutely love to go on a date with you, Tayes. ” Anyone would. Can’t believe she chose me, amongst them all…

“Guess it’s a deal then, Rory. When are you free?”

“Pick me up tomorrow at eight.” Aurora thought better. “Or just stay here, we’ll see what we can do.”

“Perfect.”

They cuddled (“I knew you were a little spoon, Rory!”). Aurora couldn’t ignore her friends’ perfect timing, as her phone shone indicating a new message had been received in their group chat:

Tee:

whora ru alive 🥺 or did she fuck u so hard u dead now?

Bims:

Hope you didn’t give her syphilis x

Tee:

thatd be u and joey only,, the syphilis couple. my girl whora is TESTED x

Bims:

Heard from Joey you got laid too, he saw you walking out the club with a piece!!

Tee:

and awhora had the nerve tell me i wouldnt fuck anyone with my button up shirt huh

Bims:

Y’all nasty 🥰 now excuse me I gotta go get pounded as well lmao goodnight babes x

Tee:

no bims we cant go. theyre lesbians. what if they get married in the meantime and we dont even hear about it!

Whora:

Goodnight hoes and nooo not yet! But she’s taking me out tomorrow yikes

Tee:

aaand shes sleeping there

Whora:

Yeah <3

Tee:

👀👀👀

Bims:

Give them 3 months, Tia. x

Whora:

Luv u hounds! nightie

Tee:

nightie !!

Bims:

Nightie!

#rpdr fanfiction #taywhora #rpdr uk #uk2 #tayce #a'whora #lesbian au #smut #fluff #clubbing #pet names #dom bottom tayce #vena #concrit welcome #submission

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dyketubbo · 3 years

Text

How to Use an Axe as a Shield (and vice versa)

(or, a collection of tubbo poems/minifics, because I think about him a lot. please god reblog if you read/like any of these just liking doesnt do anything /lh. heres one to tide you over, and three more under the cut)

Heartless (homeless)

TWs: Death, Injury

•

If home is where the heart is, what are you supposed to do when both are turned into war zones? (Canon Compliant)

home's where the heart is (but both of yours are exploded, so where does that leave you?)

declarations of war are made with the burnt crisps of your house

(you were proud of that. you really were)

a statement of betrayal is first marked with a sword through your heart

(and you wonder how fucking unlucky you must be to be the first life lost)

you're shot twice with blinding lights (and they really were blinding, because you lost an eye because of it)

during the small period where you can't feel your heart beat you wonder if you lost that too

(you almost wish you did, because it hurts to pretend like you don't care while wearing an executioner's hood, but every time you've cared about something you lost it)

(and yet you lose even when you stop caring, and you wish you lost your heart, because somehow losing a heart seems better than losing a home all over again)

A President's Legacy

TWs: Cannibalism, Death, Underage Drinking

•

Quackity, Fundy, and Tubbo, and the things inherited from two men who stopped caring about them (they haven't quite gotten the hang of not caring about the two men back, but damn if they have a bad view on what it means to care about themselves now) (Canon Compliant w/ HCs such as Tubbo wearing a ram/Schlatt's skull for intimidation)

the opportunistic ex takes a bite of the dictator's heart, before eating it all (before then, he took the advice of a man who spiralled, and its no wonder the doctor isnt a real one, because someone really should've warned that cannibals get hurt by their habits too)

the abandoned prodigy takes the dictator's sword and calls it a family heirloom (the prodigy is disowned by the father he truly wanted, so who can blame him when he turns to the only people that want him, even when they're his enemies)

the gunpowdered mentee dons the dictator's skull, mirrors his ears and horns and tail and takes the berating and bottles and drinks (and drinks and drinks because maybe he can replace the tearstains in the dead husk of a man's old suit with beer stains and pretend that he's following in the footsteps of a heartless ram and intimidate everyone into not finding out that he's really mimicking the spiral of a brother that didn't want the heart he was given)

the ex destroys his "child" and makes a better country in its stead, promising himself he'll never be pushed to the side again (he breaks his own promises to not get attached but can't bring himself to stop smiling)

the prodigy resolves to better himself and makes a play pen for his son as he tells himself he's loved and wanted and no one can tell him he's not (he accepts friendship as a payment and laughs as he learns to have fun with his body again)

the mentee breaks from his roles and stores up power as a defense as he keeps his son safe and assures himself that he'll never let his loved ones get hurt again (he hasn't counted himself as one yet, but he twirls a flower around in his hands and believes that it'll all be okay)

(a ghost of a dictator cackles to himself as he flicks poker chips at the crying husk of a zombie whose heart hasn't learned how to beat again yet)

Runny Yolk (Bloody Folk)

TWs: Gore, Death, Rotting, Talk of Organs, Suicidal Ideation, Memory Loss, Manipulation, Overstimulation, this one is rough ok

•

Tubbo thinks red is starting to suit him. (Eggbo AU)

your guts are being replaced with vines

they twist and turn and there are leaves in your socket and your eye is turning red

crimson is flooding through your head, your mind, your soul and conscience and veins and heart and oh, you know why they're called blood vines now

they tell you it's apart of the process. they seem to wince a little and clench their fists a little harder

so you don't feel too bad when you vomit into the lava. rather easy to get overstimulated from being invaded by a parasite, really

it showed you dead families when you first touched it, and at first you didnt really know why

eventually though, you remember how happy ghostbur was

you suppose death isn't so bad, if that's how dead people end up

it would be nice for everyone to be happy

(it would be nice if you were happy. suddenly, this all feels rather peaceful and you're not really registering that you're vomiting too much because for some reason it's not hurting anymore)

it doesn't take too long for ponk to quietly go "i don't think that's apart of the process"

he repeats it louder again as you sway and you hear concerned shouts as your consciousness fades

you wake up to whispering in your head

"you can't leave yet, bring everyone with you. don't worry, i won't make it hurt"

you get up rather quickly, and think about how this is what painless and colorful feels like. you smile, and let yourself forget what that even meant to you in the first place

Ding! Breakfast Is Ready! (why do ghosts need to eat anyways?)

TWs: Suicide, Death, Memory Loss, Overstimulation, Panic Attack

•

Toast thinks about the (not so) fun fact that matyr sounds like murder if you have a funny enough accent. He tries not to think about what everyone else thinks of the very not fun fact that the murderer of Tubbo was himself (Tubbo uses the Dead Man's Switch AU, not too canon compliant i just think about toast a lot. this one turned more into a minific but i still like it so here)

it's a bit easier to get food when you can float, a fact that toast uses to his advantage rather often

he thought the name was cute really, and he giggled about how he was burnt to a crisp just like toast!

tommy shouted at him though, and ranboo's voice shaked as his words failed to really pick up

toast couldn't hear very well

that's what happens when you blow yourself up with a nuke, he guesses

he thinks his life was pretty nice, really! he's not sure why he wanted to blow it all up (not that he really judged the decision much, he knew it was probably for a good reason)

he helped found a country, got elected as president (somehow? he could tell there were gaps), met a pretty hybrid, got a cool compass!

he especially likes to think about how fun it was to make nukes, even if he doesn't remember why

and of course, his memory is filled with little bits of his married life with a son, and he could never forget how it felt to be a brother to tommy, or an uncle to fundy

tommy looks like he's about to break when toast mentions picking flowers with technoblade, so toast resorts to not talk about his memories around tommy at all

michael likes to listen to him though! toast teaches him sign language, and claps with glee the first time michael gets out a sentence

the clap makes him think of concrete for some reason, and for a second he remembers technoblade pointing a firework at him

his scars burned then. he doesn't clap anymore

the food falls down and makes a clang (turns out, getting lost in memories means losing his physical form) and toast is out of reality for a second and the toaster dings and suddenly there's so much noise that toast sinks down and panics even more when he realizes he needs oxygen to hyperventilate

eventually, it all quiets down (or at least, it's quiet enough that toast is unable to hear it)

for a bit, it's flooded back, and he remembers that he's not tommy's brother or ranboo's husband or fundy's uncle or michael's father or technoblade's friend or anyone at all and especially not tubbo himself

because tubbo's dead. and he killed himself. and now all they have left is a ghost of someone they'll never have again, because tubbo took out dream too.

tubbo wasn't one to cry. but toast isn't tubbo, so he sobs and hopes his tears burn enough for him to die too (tubbo had such a brilliant death suited for such a brilliant boy, so toast only felt it was deserved to die pathetically and drawn out, so he could never again convince himself he was amazing as he thought he was)

(he doesnt die, and being unable to remember what upset him in the first place is only frustrating him further, so he curls up and pushes his head into his knees and hopes that if ghosts can eat they can fall asleep too)

#tubbo #dsmp #eggbo #ghost tubbo #quackity #fundy #toast dsmp #others r mentionede #tws in the post #dyke drabblez #feel free to ask abt any of these btw!#theyre all things i think abt often

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hyunsracha · 4 years

Text

for your entertainment — han jisung

word count: 2.3k

summary: jisung panics when he sees cute people. he also stares at them.

so you work at an entertainment store right

where ppl can buy like uhhh movies and albums n merch n stuff!!

u like ur job.. it’s one of the least popular stores in the mall so u spend most of ur time organizing and reorganizing with one earbud in listening to music

u have to wear a boring grey t-shirt as uniform so u spice things up by making the rest of u look good

everyone else does the same thing i mean … ur manager lia wears purple eyeshadow ok

ur other manager chris doesn’t even try to look good! and it’s so fucking annoying u wanna knock his fuck 24/7

random girl: hehe<3 can i have ur number?

chris: only if u sign up for our rewards program<3

u, angry bc u haven’t sold any rewards programs in a week: >:(

ur other two co-workers are hyunjin and jeongin.

hyunjin has a pretty popular youtube dancer cover channel, but for Copyright Reasons it’s not paying the bills

and jeongin is a senior in high school and this is his first job and u just wanna pinch his little cheeks every time u work together

“y/n i swear to god i’m gonna punch u and get fired rn stop POKING MY CHEEKS-”

“he’s just a little baby…*to passing customer* LOOK AT THE BABY!”

“>:(((“

so it’s a tuesday night.

tuesday nights are the fucking best (worst if u love talking to ppl) bc u’ll get like … 2 customers in 4 hours?

it’s 8pm and the mall closes at 9

usually u start vacuuming at 8:30 but at like 7:50 chris was like “GET THE FUCKING VACUUM WE’RE CLOSING RN !!”

jeongin: u do it.

u: no u do it bitch.

jeongin: *sticks out his fist*

u sigh and do rock paper scissors like the baby wants.

and u lose

u fucking lose

and jeongin just cackles, sitting down on the stool behind the registers

so u trudge to the back room and the vacuum, grumbling about how ur older so jeongin should be doing this!!

but it’s fine!

so you’re vacuuming right.

and in storms Han Jisung

yes han jisung is the kinda dude to come to the mall right before closing and go on a shopping spree

he’s got his best friend lee minho in tow, who does Not look happy to be here.

“come on minho!! i need to get season 4 of naruto to finish my collection!!” jisung whines, pulling on his friend’s arm as he stands on his tiptoes to look for the anime section.

“can you keep your voice down?? i have an image, yanno.”

“minho you’re literally here to buy a kelly clarkson album.”

minho grumbles and waddles off towards the cds, where you are...vacuuming...loudly

and minho’s like -____- why are u so fucking loud

like u don’t MEAN to be loud?? but it’s a VACUUM??

so minho’s looking for his beloved kelly clarkson album right,

and jisung comes around the corner, season 4 of naruto in tow.

and he sees you

and nearly drops it

jisung gets crushes very easily okay..

he can’t help it! the boy loves to love (◕‿◕)♡

and u look so cute in ur lil t-shirt!! like a little retail angel!!

so he grabs minho’s arm and DRAGS HIM TO where the movies are

and he panics!

“THEY’RE SO CUTE AAH I WANNA GIVE THEM A BIG FAT HUG-”

“do you mean the person vacuuming -__- loud as hell”

“minho it’s a vacuum.”

so you stop vacuuming and return the vacuum to the back room (and wash ur hands in the bathroom bc the soap smells like lemons and sunshine) and come back to the floor

u have a ton of time until closing so u just. sit.. and start reorganizing the heavy metal albums.

after a while u feel … weird … like ur being watched

so u turn around and. there they are. staring like (・_・)

and ur like “HELLO?!?!” but u don’t say anything

u just give them a Customer Service Smile and a, “can i help you with anything?”

jisung just giggles and shakes his head and minho keeps fuckign staring

mr lee i will knock ur fuck is that what u want

so u shrug and go back to ur sorting, keeping an eye on the CREEPS in ur store.

at 8:55 chris is like “jeongin go close the gate.” n jeongin’s like “FUCK YEAH” bc he gets to hold a big stick

so he’s walking towards the front of the store with his Big Stick when he sees jisung and minho

“what da hell are y’all doing?” is what he thinks but he says, “(: hi! the store closes in five minutes and i’m about to close the front gate. i’m so sorry, but you have to leave now! :)”

so jisung pouts and minho rolls his eyes, dragging his friend out of the store.

jeongin uses his Big Stick to pull the gate down and he locks it at about mid calf level so y’all can get out.

so that night, u go home and do some homework, but ur still thinking about those weirdos.

but! u’ll probably never see them again!

right?

Wrong.

u see them the next day!

they’re still watching u, but they’re closer

and minho looks more irritated.

towards the end of the night, ur Upset and Confused so u go over to them like o_o. What do u want.

and jisung goes JISJSJHTIE

and minho goes, “jisung thinks you’re cute.”

u start to blush, but jisung squeaks, “NO ahah- uh- he likes to talk in third person! he’s jisung ahaha.”

“my name is not jisung i would Hate to be named jisung.”

“WH- why? there’s a soccer player named jisung. and an idol! multiple idols!”

“yeah the guy in nct is 2 years younger than you and has the same name. and what have You done successfully? Quickly-”

“HEY-”

the two boys in front of u bicker while u start zoning out at the wall behind them.

you knew that the boy with blue hair was jisung, but you didn’t know the one with brown hair. and you assumed that they were friends, judging by the .. bonding activity that is staring at an employee.

and jisung wasn’t …. ugly

like he was really … really cute

but staring at people is fucking weird, jisung!!

when u finally snap out of it, u huff, “okay losers. we are closing soon. so you have to leave. but you’re welcome to come back tomorrow if you’re going to actually talk to me and not just stand in the corner! okay?”

the boys nod, grinning at each other before dashing out of the store.

so, like u said, they’re back the next day!

and this time they actually talk to u! Wow!

you’re sitting on the floor in the back of the store, organizing the funko pops for the 70th time when you feel A Presence.

two, actually.

it’s the two boys, sitting on either side of u.

“hi,” jisung says, playing with his fingers in his lap.

“you’re jisung, right? the cute one..” u reply absentmindedly

u hear a choking sound and then Silence

miss jisung ? miss JISUNG ?

he’s alive, but jfc BARELY

u just called him the CUTE ONE?!?!?

paying no mind, u turn to the boy on ur right, “and you are?”

“lee minho. don’t worry, you won’t forget it.”

“was that supposed to be a pick-up line?”

“did it work?”

“no.”

“HAH!” and jisung’s alive again.

u spend the rest of ur shift talking to the boys, telling them all about ur life while they told u about theirs

u learned that minho was a dancer just like hyunjin! but he went to the nearby university to study.

and that’s where he met jisung, who’s a music composition major

...and a soundcloud rapper…

u could help the laugh that pushed past ur lips at his words

“WHY ARE U LAUGHING.”

“a SoundCloud rapper. really, sung?”

“IT’S COOL ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞ”

u couldn’t imagine him as a ‘cool’ rapper dude

he just looked so fluffy :(

at 8:55, the boys got kicked out by jeongin again, but they stood outside the gate, waiting for u

“What do y’all want.”

“i wanna walk u to ur car:(“

“i don’t.”

“ok minho then Leave.”

“NO DON’T he’s my ride don’t say that to him.”

it’s dark outside, and a warm wind blows through ur hair.

it’s late spring, with summer (and finals) fast approaching.

“walking me to my car...what a gentleman…”

“yeah that’s why you should totally go on a date with me haha.”

“what?”

“you said-”

“i didn’t say anything.”

minho sighs from behind u, not understanding why his best friend has to be so damn stupid all the time

u lean on ur driver’s side door, not making eye contact with the boy

u didn’t know how to say bye..no one’s ever walked u to ur car before??

“so…” jisung speaks for u, “can i … have your number? so i don’t show up at the store when you’re not working.” he holds his phone out for u to take, a sheepish smile barely visible due to the lights in the parking lot.

“oh! totally.” you take the phone from him, jolting when ur fingers graze his. u set ur contact as ‘the person sungie likes to stare at~” before giving it back to him.

he chuckles at the name, and u feel something inside of u go DOKIDOKI

when he says goodnight and walks away, minho giving u a quick nod, u lock urself in ur car so u can PANIC

u barely know this boy. he’s a weirdo. why is ur heart going dokidoki

heart STOP IT!!

it only gets worse when u hear the text notification sound from ur phone:

[ unknown ]: do u work tmrw? (^_−)☆ i already miss u

…. frick …. he texts cute

dammit jisung why couldn’t u send the laughing emoji

[ y/n ]: i do ! ^.^ i’ll see u then?

[ creeper ]: wouldn’t miss it~ (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ goodnight!

u nearly slam ur head on the steering wheel.

true to his word, jisung was back the next day

and the day after that

the day after That, u were off, so u didn’t see him

but u guys texted nearly all day!

jisung was just … really easy to talk to :/

and really funny :/

and every time he giggled u just wanted to cry a little bit :/

and u feel like a CLOWN bc u have a CRUSH on this dude that hangs out with u at WORK

one day, ur at work, and jisung isn't there:((

u feel a little dumb being upset about it, but u were starting to get used to the little guy

“somebody looks like a sad clown.”

“hyunjin~” u whine.

“oh no. that’s the boy problems whine. uhhh suddenly i’m on break!” he tries to stand and walk away, but u pull him back down next to u.

see, u and hyunjin were pretty close.

u two are the same age and watch the same dramas.

and ur both super dramatic

which is WHY when u got ur heart broken by lee donghyuck a few months after u started working there, he was ur shoulder to cry - and complain - on.

“stop :( there was this boy who came in every day and talked to me and he’s super cute but he’s not here today and i miss him :(“

hyunjin just …. stared at u like …. wtf are u talking about

“do you have his number?”

“yes.”

“have you texted him to ask why he’s not here today?”

“...no…”

“(；￣Д￣) Y/N U FUCKIN FOOL!!! U ABSOLUTE IMBECILE!!!”

“STOP YELLING AT ME HWANG HYUNJIN I’LL DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU LOVE!”

a customer standing in front of the register, trying to buy some headphones: uh.. should i go?

u make hyunjin deal with the customer while u sneak out ur phone to text jisung

[ y/n ]: where are u . no one is here 2 annoy me today (except hyunjin but he doesn’t count)

u wait 5 minutes … no reply

10 minutes … no reply

an hour … no reply

“WAAAAA ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡ HYUNJIN ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡”

hyunjin, handing a poor lady her receipt: jesus fucking christ

ur sulking as u leave the store that night

u still feel dumb, but now ur too Sad to feel dumb

u press the lock button on ur car keys so the lights would come on and the horn would sound, telling u where ur car was

“OH FUCK- jesus...stupid car…”

….that’s not what ur car horn sounds like.

u slowly approach, holding ur keys in between ur fingers

ur not afraid to stab a bitch with ur mail key and that’s on wolverine.

u breathe a sigh of Relief when u see it’s just jisung leaning against ur door

wait

jisung

“jisung?” u voice ur thoughts

his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, “yeah..hi..sorry i didn’t text you back. i nearly backed out of doing this and i didn’t wanna look stupid.”

“you look stupid all the time.”

“jeez, thanks.”

u cross ur arms, stepping closer to the boy, “back out of what?”

“well i uh- do you remember how minho said i think you’re cute on the first day we talked?”

you nod.

“well...that hasn’t changed. i think you’re cute...really cute, actually.”

you blush again, just like the first time, “what does me being cute have to do with you standing in front of my car?”

“well, i don’t have a car, so i’m hoping...you can drive when we go on our first date?”

your heart nearly stops, but you start to smile.

“han jisung, are you asking me out?”

“are you saying yes?”

“yes.”

“then yeah. i am.”

your smile only gets wider as you close the gap between you two, wrapping your arms around his middle. he pats your head, a chuckle vibrating under your ear.

“also i need a ride home. minho dropped me off.”

“*sigh* jisung…”

723 notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

sugar rush

request from anon: hiiiiiiiiii! c: i love your stories, and the way you write a fluffy george gets me every time. can i request a super shy, easily flustered, head in the clouds, gryffindor fem!reader with a hilariously soft and smitten george? 👉🏼👈🏼 i just really need my fill on fluff and fluff and fluff ;-; if that’s okay? thank you

pairing: george x gryffindor fem!reader

word count: 4.4k oops

A/N: i love flustered reader and i love flustered smitten george even MORE; hope she’s flustered enough? hope he’s flustered enough??? this literally took me 12 hours to write lol

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @bobduncanlover @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove | message me if you’d like to be added loves!

George Weasley doesn’t normally find himself so very easily nervous around girls. If anything, his charm normally puts forth a bit of confidence. But with you, it’s different. He finds his heart hammering in his chest, sometimes he’s at a loss for words, or your actions take him by surprise in the most wonderful of ways.

When you both go for the last sugar quill at Honeydukes, the clerk behind the desk shrugs his shoulders as if to say, That’s the final one—work it out amongst yourselves.

When he turns to look at you, his face flushes red and he feels as though his feet are cemented into the ground. He’s frozen. He blinks a few times—it’s almost as if you aren’t real, you’re so beautiful— “For the lady, then,” George says and smirks at you. As a nervous smile tugs at the edges of your lips, he spots the Gryffindor colors when you pull your scarf out from your coat pockets. Your sparkly eyes are intriguing.

“Thank you,” you reply nervously, paying the clerk and turning back toward George. “That’s really nice of you.”

And before he can say anything else or get to know you better, even your name, you float out of the store and out of sight. George stands there, still frozen, before coming out of his daydream-like state, and rushes out of the store.

“Wait!”

He runs out of Honeydukes, leaving his very confused brothers and friends behind, and catches you before you get back to the castle. Blimey, you’re a quick walker. You freeze, whirling around to face him.

“I’d at least like to know the name of the girl I gave up my favorite sweet for,” he says, panting a bit, and smiles softly at you. When you grin back, he feels a tug at his heartstrings.

Your face goes rosy, and you shake your head in utter embarrassment. “Oh my, I’m so sorry—I can’t believe—should’ve introduced myself.. I’m Y/N—”

He can’t help but laugh a little at your flustered form. “Y/N,” George repeats, your name swimming through his mind. “I’m George.. Weasley, by the way. Thought I recognized you.” He points at your Gryffindor scarf. “We’re in Potions together, yeah?”

You nod in reply, biting your lip, giving the same smile that you had given him in Honeydukes. He comes to realize this is a huge hint to your nervousness, finding amusement in the fact that your eyes shift down toward your shoes, as well, avoiding any and all eye contact. Then you glance up at him, “Really brilliant match last week, by the way.”

George is caught off guard by this. “Oh—thanks,” he says brightly, excited to know that you’ve been watching Quidditch matches. He points to the Ballycastle Bats team pin you have on your bag, “Northern Ireland fan, are you?”

“Think I’d be shunned by my family if I wasn’t.”

“Won’t be able to convert you to a Cannons fan, I reckon?”

Your lips twitch. “Afraid not.”

He laughs as he watches you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear nervously, “Ever play before?”

“Oh, god,” you reply, nearly dropping your sweets onto the muddy ground beneath you, “No—I’m complete, complete rubbish.” George can see your cheeks go rosy again, but is it from the cold, or the nerves? “No, I mean, I’d love to play, really would, but I reckon I’d send Gryffindor’s rep plummeting.”

George slams his hands into his pockets, as if this is going to help him fight his own nerves, “I’m sure you’re not that bad.. maybe you just need a few lessons,”

Was this an offer? He doesn’t break the gaze you two are holding. You say softly, “Yeah—maybe. But not Seeker—my eyesight is awful.”

Again, George laughs. “Well what would you play?”

You tilt your head in thought. “Always wanted to be a Chaser. Or Beater, maybe.”

This impresses him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reply very shyly, “but I wouldn’t be nearly as good as you and your brother.”

His insides turn gooey and warm at this compliment and he thanks you. It’s now aware that George’s brothers have found him as they call out to him from behind, and he’s wishing that they hadn’t. He wants more time. “Well—it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Careful with that quill, now, don’t want to go and give yourself a sugar rush.”

Your shy laugh catches him by surprise. He didn’t think his comment was particularly funny. He sucks in a breath as you adjust your scarf, giving him a tiny grin once again and raising your hand before turning back around and heading toward the castle. He runs a hand anxiously through his hair, thinking to himself, What the bloody hell was that? but then pauses, because he remembers that whatever the hell he’d said—it had made you laugh—and he’d say it over and over if it meant he could continue to listen to that sound escape your lips again.

Behind him, he can still hear his friends calling out his name in confusion, but it’s easy to ignore them as he watches your scarf move slightly in the wind before you’re back into the castle and out of sight yet again.

“Mate,” he hears Fred say, as the other Weasley brothers and friends finally catch up with him, “you are rubbish at this flirting thing.” They all fall into a fit of raucous laughter—guess they’d heard more than George originally thought.

But he just ignores them and turns back, staring at the spot you just were, merely a few feet away from him, the echo of your laugh still playing back in his mind on repeat. With a small smirk, he tries to suppress the butterflies in his stomach and he says to nobody in particular, “Reckon I’m better than you think I am.”

The Great Hall is absolutely buzzing during dinner—finally, the weekend. George is completely ignoring the game of exploding snap in front of him, when Ron smacks him across the face.

“Oi!” George yells, bringing a hand to his stinging cheek, “what the bloody hell was that for?”

“Quit ignoring the game!” Ron says a bit angrily.

“Do I need to play Weasley mediator?” Harry asks sarcastically.

Ron softens a bit, grunts something that slightly resembles a sorry, and waits for George to take his turn. He does this quickly, and turns back toward the end of the table, where you’re sitting, reading intently some book clutched tightly in your hands. Fred stifles a laugh and a female voice beside him says, “What’s up with him?”

George is caught off guard and whips his head around, only to see Ginny and Hermione take their places next to Harry and Ron. He’s ready to tell his sister that there’s nothing up, nothing at all, because George hates it when his siblings get involved in his personal life, but regrettably, Fred beats him to the punch.

“Oh, not much,” Fred replies, stretching his arms back behind his head, shoving a treacle tart into his mouth, “Georgie boy here is just in love with Y/N and can’t handle his own feelings. ‘Tis adorable. Never seen the bloke so flustered before.”

George shoots his twin an angry look and the feeling of dread creeps up inside his chest. Ginny’s eyes widen. “Oooh,” she prods a bit teasingly, “since when?”

“I’m not in love with her,” George snaps, making everyone go silent for a moment as they all try and hold back their laughter. “I—just—don’t know her very well—”

“But he’d like too.”

George flicks a treacle tart at Ron, who catches it at the last moment and glances toward Hermione, who he’s sad to see doesn’t look quite as amused at his teasing as he hopes she would. He focuses once again on George, whose ears are bright red. A little bit more quietly, he says, “Caught them together in Honeydukes the other day—” another tart hits Ron right across the face.

“She’s really sweet, she is,” says Ginny brightly, the mocking tone to her voice now gone, “you know, if you’re looking for that sort of thing.” Almost immediately as it had gone, the sarcasm came back. Fred playfully nudges his little sister in the ribs.

George tries his best to hide his curiosity about how his sister knows you by pretending to be distracted by a game of exploding snap and picking at the food on his plate. When you stand up from your seat, clearly making your way toward the Gryffindor common room for the night, George’s eyes lock with yours and he raises a hand and grins before he realizes that everyone is watching him.

You smile back and hug your book tighter before heading out of the Great Hall, and even as the cackling and teasing around him continues, George can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

When he’s trudging through the hallways with his twin, watching as passerbys head into their next classes, he doesn’t expect to see you.

You should be in class already, no?

Fred catches this. “Oh boy,” he teases, nudging his twin in the ribs, “going to get more than a smile out of her today?”

George shoves him into a nearby wall when Fred begins to snicker as George yells your name down the corridor. “Hey, Y/N!”

He catches up with you in the now empty corridor and you grin shyly at him. “Hello, George.”

“Coming to the match this weekend?”

He tries not to get his hopes up, but is pleasantly surprised to hear you say yes. “Wouldn’t miss it,” you tell him, now walking toward him. “Versus Ravenclaw, yeah?”

George nods in agreement.

You look around the corridor, making sure nobody else is around, and when you are finally satisfied to see that the coast is clear, you tell him, “Their team is rubbish this year. You guys have it in the bag.”

He beams at you. “Thanks,” he replies, “well—hopefully, you never know with Quidditch. Maybe afterwards we could have those lessons I promised?”

You peer at him in surprise, a little taken aback. “Was—was that a promise?”

“Well, I’d certainly like to—if you still do.”

His heart flutters when you agree. Switching the books in your one arm to the other, albeit clumsily, you stand across from him, careful not to drop your belongings to the ground. “Yeah—that, um, sounds nice.” A small, nervous chuckle escapes your lips.

There’s a bit of comfortable silence between the two of you as he processes this, excited beyond belief. His insides are swirling nervously and he fixes his bag across his shoulder.

“Free period?”

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, clutching your bag tighter around your shoulder. “Just heading to the library to finish that Potions essay,” you roll your eyes. George grins sheepishly at you, remembering the assignment but figuring he’ll worry about that later. “Did you have a good lunch?”

“Yeah—good, really good,” he replies, tugging at the edges of his robe sleeves, “and you?”

You smile sweetly. “Very good, thanks.” There’s another bit of silence between you when George realizes he has absolutely no idea what to say next, but thankfully, you come to the rescue—for more than one reason. “You have a free period, as well?”

George’s eyes widen in horror when the realization hits him like a ton of bricks—only mere seconds have passed, but he should be in his Transfiguration class by now. It’s as if the thought of her brings her out of her classroom, because Professor McGonagall pokes her head out of her classroom and says, “Mr. Weasley, please make your way in for your lesson. Now is not the time to flirt with pretty girls, I’m afraid—I’d rather you leave your teenage mischief for the common room.”

When McGonagall ducks back into the classroom, George peers back at you, his cheeks a bit rosy and his mind swirling with anxious thoughts.

“You should go,” you tell him sheepishly, nudging him gently toward the classroom, “wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of McGonagall’s outbursts.” You laugh a bit and turn to head toward the library.

“She’s right, you know,” George says, not ready to leave just yet.

“About what?”

“The flirting thing,” he tells you with a cheesy grin, “even if I am rubbish at it.”

Your face flushes red and you immediately peer down at your shoes, nervousness boiling up inside you. George laughs haughtily at your flustered state, throwing his head back before glancing at you once more. He watches as your face changes from anxiety-ridden to very, very cheeky.

“And the pretty?”

George swallows over the lump in his throat and sucks in a breath. He hadn’t expected you to say anything about this, but it takes every ounce of his being to not go off about your beauty. “Well of course she was right about that.”

Feeling quite pleased with himself, he winks, noticing the smile tugging at the edges of your lips before you both turn and head off in your respective directions.

It’s obvious, now, that Professor Snape is in a worse mood than he normally is. The Dungeons seem darker, colder, less appealing (as if that’s possible) and George is crossing his fingers that this class flies by—that is, until you walk in. It seems as though the room brightens up.

It’s the first assignment of the year that Snape breaks you apart into groups—by houses, of course. George’s heart begins hammering in his chest when you slide into the seat next to him and across from his twin, whose eyes are going back and forth between the two of you as you all take out your textbooks and place them on the table.

Fred notices the Quidditch pin on your bag, just as George had that time in Hogsmeade. “Think we can get you to switch over to the Cannons?”

“No such luck, sir,” you reply softly, laying out the ingredients for your potion neatly next to your cauldron, “I’m sort of exclusively dedicated to the Bats.”

Words are escaping George’s lips before he can even register what he’s saying. “Her family would have her head if she fancied any other team.”

The two of you peer at each other, exchanging soft smiles, while Fred just shakes his head, as if to imply he was feeling some type of secondhand embarrassment from the rubbish flirting going on between you and his brother. It is then revealed, Fred realizes, that George has absolutely no plan whatsoever on how to continue this conversation, as he finds himself tripping over his words—so unlike him. “So, er, we need—what do we need exactly?” George kicks his brother underneath the table after a mocking laugh, leaving a red faced Fred doubled over in pain.

Snape’s constant glances at your group seem to be making George more nervous than possible. Normally, he doesn’t worry this much when it comes to classes, but with you sitting next to him, he finds himself incredibly focused on his assignment in front of him.

“Okay,” he says eventually, his body language exuding nothing but confidence, “Reckon we can finish this rather quickly, now—just need two more bezoars?”

“No!” you nearly jump out of your seat, but you aren’t quick enough. “George, just one!”

The potion erupts in the cauldron and George is left with soot all over his face and in his hair. Fred bursts into raucous laughter next to him while you cup a hand over your mouth. From the table next to yours, a Slytherin asks jokingly, “Seamus Finnegan isn’t in our year, is he?”

You hurriedly head to the supply closet, pull out a clean rag and race back over to your table, nearly tripping over your robes. George is almost happy his face is covered—the black soot is hiding the very obvious tomato-red color of his face now. But still, he can’t help but laugh at himself.. just a little bit. “Don’t worry, I—I can fix it,” you tell him tentatively.

You sway your wand above the cauldron, bringing it back to it’s correct dark green colour, and gently dab his face and run a hand through his hair. You’re starting to see that bright red again. And then it’s as if everything around you stops, and the world goes still and silent. You’re still running a hand through his hair, and George is peering at you with solemn eyes, his breathing becoming heavier, when Snape very rudely interrupts you both, making you jump.

“Had it not been for Y/N L/N’s quick fix, it would’ve been easy to mark this abysmal,” Snape tells you all, looking disgusted when he glances inside your cauldron at the potion you’ve concocted. “Respectable, I suppose.”

When you both finally notice that everyone around you is watching you in surprise, you quickly rub some of the soot off of George’s robes and quickly swing your bag over your shoulder, eager to leave the dungeons and regroup. You bite your lip and offer a small grin, “Erm—see you later,”

As George trudges behind his twin up the stairs for the next class, still trying to wipe away the soot from his face, Fred tells him teasingly, “Well—that went well,”

George shoves him as they both continue to laugh. “She’s—just—things are fine,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You’ve just got to do it already, haven’t you?” comes the voice of Ron, who slips next to them as they wander through the corridors, Harry by his side. “Just kiss her already, mate.”

“C’mon, ‘m taking my time. I don’t want to.. scare her away.”

“Ah yes,” Fred begins sarcastically, bouncing down the hallways now, “don’t kiss her as soon as you possibly can—girls love that.”

It’s nearly eleven p.m. when the common room finally clears. You’re sitting near the fire, many pieces of parchment on the table in front of you, and you’ve got the back end of your quill in your mouth. George continues to steal glances at you whilst trying desperately to finish homework of his own.

“I can’t do this anymore, I’m heading to bed,” Fred announces, standing up and closing his spellbooks with a loud smack! “Coming, George?”

“Yeah—soon, mate,” he replies, not looking at his brother, but instead, keeping his eyes transfixed on you, as if he’s in some sort of a trance. He licks his lips impatiently, and then begins to bounce his feet up and down on the ground.

“So—she your girlfriend yet?”

George tosses a throw pillow from the couch in Fred’s direction. Through gritted teeth, he says, “Shut up, will you? She’ll hear you!”

Fred pauses for a moment and considers this.

“Maybe that’s what you both need.”

“What?”

“For her to hear it. If she’s not going to hear it from you how much you bloody want her—”

George sticks out his foot when Fred begins to cross to the other end of the common room, when he trips slightly, but catches himself before he faceplants, “Oi,” Fred says, rolling his eyes, and then lowers his voice, “would you just go for it already? So you can quit being all moon-eyed—”

George rolls his eyes at this. “I don’t want to rush things, Freddie. Don’t want to frighten her off. She’s not like us—she’s more subdued, quiet. I’ve got to take it slow, don’t I?”

“Merlin’s sake, Georgie,” Fred says, making him jump. “It’s so obvious she likes you back. Do something before she bloody finds someone else, would you?”

“Get out of here, you absolute git,” George playfully kicks his brother in the shin, who heads for the boys dormitory. He thinks on this for a moment, though. Was it too late? Nerves were once again bubbling up inside him, anxious thoughts eating him alive. George had always been patient—he wasn’t going to change his ways now, was he? But still, the talons of Fred’s words are entrenched in his mind. Had he already missed his chance with you?

Finally, the two of you are alone—completely on separate ends of the common room, immersed in your own work—but alone, nonetheless.

Of all the things George expected to happen late that evening, you suggesting heading town to the Quidditch pitch in the dead of night isn’t one of them. “Get your broom, then!” you tell him excitedly.

“Now?” he asks you, looking down at his watch. It’s nearing midnight. “You want to go down to the pitch now?”

“Oh,” you sputter, now feeling like an absolute idiot for suggesting something so sneaky. You shake your head at him. “I—I’m sorry—we don’t need to, really, it’s okay—I just thought, since you’re so used to sneaking out of the castle at night, it might be fun? I reckon we’d probably get quite a tongue lashing from McGonagall if we were caught, though—just forget I said anything, it’s fine, really, we can go another day—”

George can hardly hide his smile at your hysteria. He grabs you gently by the arm and turns you back toward him, your face rosy and eyes skittish. He places both of his hands on your shoulders and laughs. “I think it’s a really great idea.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he replies, lying completely through his teeth. “You’ve got to learn to play in all conditions, haven’t you? Nothing quite like a dark day on the pitch.”

“You don’t think I’m completely out of my mind?”

George tilts his head in thought. “Well—maybe a bit,” he lets a laugh escape his lips before heading to his four poster to grab his broom, “but it helps that you’re cute. You’re always going to surprise me, aren’t you?”

You beam at this. “Guess you’ll never know with me.”

Regrettably so, the two of you don’t even make it to the pitch. You were so very close to exiting the castle, when you heard footsteps rounding the bend. Quickly, George grabbed you and dragged you quickly to some secret passageway he and Fred had found many years before, stumbling very clumsily as you went, which is exactly how you both ended up in this particular situation.

You’re both extremely close to one another, out of breath and exhilarated, listening to the low mumbles of Severus Snape and Argus Filch coming from the corridor you had just left. George brings his fingers to his lips, as if to say, Stay as quiet as you can! Once their footsteps retreat into nothingness, you both let out sighs of relief, George’s body flooding with adrenaline of narrowly escaping the wrath of Filch—a feeling he knows quite well.

“I am so sorry—are you alright?”

“Yeah, yes,” you tell him breathlessly, bringing a hand to your chest and sucking in a quick breath. “Reckon that almost-disaster just took a few years off my life, though.”

“You get used to it after a while,” George tells you, tightening his shoelace, “if I had a sickle for the amount of times I’ve almost been caught, I’d be a very rich man.”

You giggle sweetly. “And how many times is that, exactly?”

“Oh, somewhere near two hundred and fifty,” he says. He sticks out his hand and pulls you to your feet and the two of you make your way to the entrance of the secret passageway, George keeping a strict eye out for any more professors or ghosts wandering the corridors.

And that’s when you trip over your own two feet, and a muffled thump! echoes through the passageway.

Your hand flies to your face, covering your mouth, as you erupt into a fit of laughter. George is pretty sure tears are escaping your eyes, but he can’t tell if it’s because you’re laughing so hysterically, or because you’re hurt in some way. He can’t read your expression, and it frustrates him to no end, as he frantically bends down toward you to see if you’re alright. “Are you okay?”

You nod quickly, still laughing.

He rests his hands gently on both of your knees and begins to laugh, too. “No more falling, yeah?”

And when you both regain your composure, you’re both looking at one another, that strange, still silence floating in the air as the tension rises between you both. And with a surge of confidence, you pull gently on George’s shirt and press your lips lightly to his.

You feel his shock against you, but it’s mere milliseconds before he’s melting into it, his lips molding perfectly against yours, his heartbeat increasing rapidly inside his chest. He’s sure you can hear it. He thinks he can hear yours, too.

And before he knows it, he’s the one who’s falling.

Falling, falling, deeper, faster.

The kind of falling you can’t help—it’s just overtaking, overwhelming. The kind you can’t stop, no matter how hard you try.

But George doesn’t seem to mind.. not even in the slightest.

He isn’t sure if you want to walk hand-in-hand back to the common room as you both stealthily make your way through the corridors. But he figures, since you’ve already kissed him, hand holding probably wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

So he intertwines his fingers in yours and feels relief flood through him when you bite back a large grin.

You both hop through the portrait hole after he says the password, “Lemon Drop”, ignoring the Fat Lady’s questions about what you two are doing out so late, and the entire room seems to ease up when you’re finally safe inside.

“I know we didn’t get to practice any Quidditch,” George begins, squeezing your hand a bit, “but I still hope you had fun tonight—besides the almost getting caught part.”

But little does he know, that was your favorite part of the entire evening. He notices that nervous smile again, something he’s found himself to be quite fond of.. it doesn’t help that you’re so bloody adorable. “I did,” you tell him straightforwardly, both of you thinking back to the kiss.

He swallows thickly, suppressing down any butterflies in his stomach. “Good—great—‘m glad you did.”

“And George?” you start, standing up on your tippy toes, getting as close as you can to him.

He can barely get the word out. His heart is going to explode out of his chest, he’s absolutely sure of it. Oh no. “Yes?” he gulps.

“I suppose you can tell Fred I’m your girlfriend now.”

He shakes his head in admiration, trying not to smile like a complete goof. He calls to you from the staircase opposite yours, “Reckon you’re always going to surprise me?”

You pull your cardigan tighter around your shoulders, cross your arms shyly and reply with a cheeky, albeit nervous, grin, “Guess you’ll never know with me.”

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #ron weasley #harry potter #ginny weasley #hermione granger

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pinkykitten · 4 years

Text

Shy Love

Neil Melendez x female! reader

Genre: comedy, angst, prompt, romance, fluff

Words: 2,304 (ok where did she come out of ?)

Request: By anon Could you do a Melendez x reader oneshot where at the hospital he’s the most shy person he’s ever seen but he happened to see her out and she’s totally different like loud and reckless and stuff, and he can’t decide which side of her he loves more and confesses

and another anon hiii idk if you’re taking requests but if you could do a neil melendez x reader fic w/ angst prompts 7 and 11 I’d be the happiest!!! (like mostly angst but ending with fluff if that makes sense)

Prompts: 7 - “you should’ve said that yesterday.” 11 - “it’s over, it’s done, just leave it be.”

Authors Note: MiX iT aLl ToGeThEr AnD yOu KnOw ThAt It’S tHe BeSt Of BoTh WoRlDSs!!!!!!! if you didnt get by the song i mixed two requests cuz why not but this one has a lot to do w walmart and like its funny and silly but then super angsty and gets rlly in the feels,,like its a whole lot but i love my boo sm he is lemonade

“Y/N, how would you like to join us? We’re going to the bar when our shift is over,” Neil asked you with dreamy eyes. His hand resting on your shoulder. Neil was always trying to bring you out of your shell and make you associate with your coworkers. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to gather with your workmates its you were shy around them. With your friends from your hometown they knew how odd you were and would never judge you or dislike you but all these doctors you knew were way more mature than you. They had their life figured out and you were worried they wouldn’t like the real you and who you really are.

You grabbed all your books that you were going to study that night for a patient of yours and carried your bag. “Thanks for the invite, but I think I’m going to call it a night.” You said with a small voice, thanking him with a kiss on the cheek.

“You sure?” Neil smirked.

You waved, “bye Neil.”

Neil shook his head at you declining his offer. All he wanted was to have a night out with you. He wanted to get to know you better.

As you stepped out of the hospital your phone buzzed with a call. You chuckled as you saw the caller ID display your friend and roommate's name.

“Yes, Janelle?”

“Girl, meet me at Walmart! They got the good stuff you like so much on sale.” She was sparking with such enthusiasm for something so mellow.

Giggling you put your friend on speaker as you started your car, “I think you’re the only person I know that gets excited for Walmart.”

“I thought since you’re always so busy-”

You rolled your e/c eyes, “here we go again! Always the same topic of conversation. I’m sorry I’m over here saving lives!”

“I’m just saying I barely see you anymore. I miss you. I want to know whats going on with your life. Any guys? Lets just hang out for a little bit, please.”

You felt bad, your friend sounded lonely and you could go for some best friend advice and love at this moment. “Sure, why not? I’m coming over! Order me something from McDonald’s okay? I’m starving.”

Janelle laughed loudly on the other end.

The burger hit the spot of your hunger. You licked your lips and wiped your fingers.

“Do you think we need more of this?” Janelle pulled out the coffee creamer from the milk aisle.

“Yes,” you said with a definite answer. “You drank all of the other one?”

Janelle looked at you bashfully, “oops, that was me?”

“Oops, that was me?” You repeated sarcastically. “Of course that was you. I barely get to drink coffee creamers anymore. I now drink that dark stuff at work.”

“Right, work. So how’s that Melendez doctor?”

You almost choked right there. People were eyeing you as you playfully slapped your friend in embarrassment. “Janelle! What if he’s here?”

“Honey, he probably shops at Whole Foods not at some Walmart, okay. Besides why are you so secretive about him?”

You waved your hands in front of your face to try hide your bashful expression, “Because, he’s so handsome and more mature than me. He has his whole life figured out. I’m still living off of Ramen while he probably eats with Beyonce!”

“Oh, someone has a crush! And he’s rich!”

You put bread in the cart and almost knocked the cart into an old woman, “Just because he may be rich, Janelle, doesn’t mean that’s the most important thing. But yes, Neil Melendez may be rich.”

Your best friend and wing girl squealed louder than a pig. “Oh my God! You like him! You like him! You like him! Why don’t you just ask him out then? You are so pretty, he’d probably say yes.”

“That’s the problem. He may say yes. It’s not definite. I’m, I’m too afraid. It doesn’t matter. We are just coworkers he’s my boss and we have a professional relationship, nothing more.”

“Alright, I won’t push it anymore.” Janelle grew a big, evil, smile on her face. She skipped behind you and pushed you in the shopping cart.

You screamed loud and whipped your head around to her, “what are you doing Janelle?”

“You’re too stressed out Y/N. Let loose. It’s time we have fun.” Janelle didn’t even give you enough time to interject because she was already speeding down the shopping lanes. She pushed you faster and faster.

At first you were afraid but then the adrenaline got to you and you started laughing. She poured chip bags and bags of marshmallows on you to replicate rain. She twirled the cart and your cheery cackles were heard through out the whole store.

This is what you meant. You could be a silly willy with your best friend and people that knew you. But you were too shy and afraid to reveal your fun self to others but more to Neil. You were frightened he would say you were too stupid for him or that you were not serious enough. Neil meant so much to you that you were always shy around him. You liked him so much and you never wanted to jeopardize your relationship you have with him.

What you didn’t know was Neil did indeed shop at Walmart and he was doing some last minute shopping.

He was peering at a bag of pistachios when he could of sworn he heard your shrieks. He paid no attention to it at first until he heard your voice nearby. It couldn’t have been you! No, not shy, flustered, Y/N. Neil turned the corner and was met with the surprise of you dancing in the shopping cart. He was a bit confused. You were always shy around him when Neil would talk and hang out with you. It was a complete 180. Who was this person? He couldn’t help but smile. You looked so adorable and cute having fun. You were being a ball of excitement. So different than how he knew you or what he thought he knew. He loved how sweet you were when you were shy but you seemed more happy now. He loved the real you. Neil even found himself getting jealous. Why didn’t you show your true, inner self to him? Were you afraid of him? He wanted to know everything about you and he felt like he didn’t know you at all. His smile started to disappeared. Neil didn’t think. Before he knew it he was making his way towards you and your roommate.

“Hello Y/N,” Neil created a fake grin.

You were completely horrified. Your heart pounded vigorously. Was he watching you this whole time? He probably thought you were being absurd. At once all the nerves consumed you. You became speechless. You were so embarrassed! You quickly hopped out of the cart and sheepishly put your hands behind your back. “H-hey Doctor Melendez. I didn’t know you shop here?”

“It’s Walmart. I hope I can shop here.”

Your eyes bugged out of your head.

“What my friend means is that you look rich and so handsome that we suspected you might shop at places like Whole Foods and what not.” Janelle saved your butt.

Neil chuckled, “no, I need my junk food.” He then eyed you. “Saw you having fun here.”

You looked down, scared for his talk.

“Why don’t I ever see this side of you? I think you should let that fire out more at work in front of all of us. I think its cute.” He winked at you as he walked away.

“Oh my God Janelle,” you fell against the cart, leaning against it. “I think I just died. That was so embarrassing!”

Janelle danced around you, “are you serious? He said you were cute! Agh, I wish a guy would say that about me!”

“I’m so glad that’s over.”

It wasn’t over. Far from it.

Neil couldn’t sleep that night. He was angry and jealous. He wanted to start a relationship with you but he didn’t even know who you were. How was it going to work? He didn’t understand why you kept who you were away from him? Do you hate him that much?

Neil paged you and texted you that he needed to discuss something with you, asap the next day at work.

Your bones shook like a tree. You were more than nervous, you were petrified. Was this about the fiasco at Walmart or was this something more? Neil meant so much to you, you didn’t want to ruin what you two already had.

You knocked on the door to a vacant room. You saw Neil sitting at the table through the glass windows.

“Come in,” he said loud for you to hear.

You walked in slowly.

“Please sit.”

You sat, biting your lip. You played with your fingers awaiting the blow.

“I just want to say I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me but I wanted to discuss something that’s been bothering me.”

“Yes.”

“I thought I knew you. I don’t know why but when I saw you having fun yesterday my heart hurt. It’s weird to explain.” Neil rubbed his temples, clearly this was effecting him. “I fell asleep that night thinking about you.”

“About me?” You felt flustered.

Neil heard how that sounded and quickly tried to save himself from the grave he dug himself, “please, let me rephrase that. What I mean is, I know you for being this quiet, shy woman and who I saw yesterday was this outspoken, fun, burst of fire. Why is there such a change?”

You were afraid he was going to bring it up. You felt hot. You weren’t really sure how you were going to respond. “I don’t know.” You became shy.

“I just don’t understand why you are so...afraid of me? Have I done something to scare you?”

“It’s not you okay,” you were becoming overwhelmed. Why did he have to bring up something you were insecure about? Why couldn’t he just let it go? “It’s me. I just I don’t-”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just want a complete honest answer. I don’t want you to dislike me. Please tell me what happened.”

You wanted to shut out everything. You were self conscious of your personality. You felt like crying. You stared at your hands and wanted to be sucked in a hole. Your lips trembled as a tear fell.

Neil saw that and felt like a monster. “I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to-”

You wiped your tears away and stood up, “You said enough. It’s over, it’s done, just leave it be.” You were about to leave but entered the room again. “I’m insecure about myself and I don’t like the real me. I’m afraid you won’t like who I am because I really like you Neil. I hide because who I really am is this crazy, reckless person. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry I’m weird.” You walked away leaving Neil feeling defeated and hating himself because all he wanted to do was tell you how he truly felt.

It was the next day and you were swallowed up in your blanket, eating ice cream and watching rom cons that were too good to be true. You felt hollow. You thought you maybe had a chance with Neil but he hated you and found you unattractive.

Janelle came in with a guilty look on her face, “it’s okay babes.” She hugged you tight. “If he doesn’t love you then he doesn’t deserve you because you are a gorgeous thing.” She smiled trying to make you laugh.

You chuckled weakly and cried into Janelle’s shoulder feeling like a glob rather than a person. “I even told him how I felt.”

There was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it.” You slipped on your slippers and walked around the apartment gloomy. You opened the door and standing there was Neil holding a bouquet of roses. “Oh its you.” You threw the door in his face.

“Please Y/N I really need to talk to you.”

Janelle turned you around like a mother, “go talk to him. Now.”

You groaned as you met with Neil’s body. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted towards you yesterday. It was wrong and I am very sorry. I was being stupid. I was jealous because I wanted you to be yourself around me. I wanted to know how adorable you act and I want to push you in a cart. I want to have those fun moments with you because you are special Y/N. You have this beautiful, amazing personality that lights up the room and that makes me feel giddy. I’m a complete idiot for treating you like how I did but Y/N I like you. I like you a lot. I would love to take you on a date like a gentleman because you deserve the best. These are for you.” He handed you the roses.

You were speechless, mouth agape as you stared at this man completely smitten with you and confessing. You smelled the roses and smiled, “they smell amazing. Thank you.”

“Phew, I’m glad you liked them because I was really nervous you were allergic or something-”

You pulled Neil’s collar and gave him a big kiss. It was sensual and perfect. It wasn’t too quick but not too long. Both lips moved in perfect sync. “You should’ve said that yesterday.”

“I really should of if I was going to get that outcome.”

Janelle started clapping in the background like a victorious warrior. “Amazing! So when’s the wedding?”

(ENDING A/N: i’m not sponsored by walmart sAdly i swear hhhhh)

Tag list: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @hyehoney, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople, @collectiveyou, @wtfisalltherandoms, @dirbel, @eastcoasthaven, @fangirl-4-life415 (wont let me tag), @melonreblogsstories, @fandomchick80

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#i just noticed i put a lot of my fics in bold type HMMMMMM #u all think my obsession w neil is fake but oh noooo ITS REAL #also janelle is me w u guys she is mood and we love her #she ships Y/N and neil SOOOOOOOO HARDDDDD #neil melendez x reader #neil melendez #the good doctor #the good doctor fanfiction #x reader #fanfiction #requested #neil melendez imagine #neil melendez one shot #imagine #doctor melendez #doctor melendez x reader #the good doctor imagine #tgd #shy love

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Text

@ad1thi asked for nat singing ‘girls’ by girl in red every time sharon walked past her. and...well...who’s gonna stop me? i tweaked the prompt a bit, hope you don’t mind...

Because Natasha teaches advanced Russian classes, she usually doesn’t get to see most professors outside of the classroom, if that. She sees the teachers from her department: Tony for Spanish (and Italian, because he’s a try-hard), and Clint for ASL.

Usually, the conversation is about what students email too much, where to go for after-work drinks, and which person forgot to lock their office door, because Clint can and will steal your best pens.

But this time, Tony is hopping on his heels.

“We have a new Kinesiology professor,” he says, grinning.

“And I care...why?” Nat questions, eyebrow raised. “It doesn’t really have anything to do with us.”

“Well not for me, but for you it does,” Tony says, his eyebrows wiggling. “She’s cute. Here’s her profile, look!”

Natasha is surprised.

She’s...exactly her type. The sweet type, funny, and it looks like she’s excited to start at this new job.

She’ll need friends, obviously.

And Natasha can sort of...figure her out. Read her, see if there’s anything in the cards for a girlfriend.

Sharon is absolutely excited for this new offer. The last job had been good and fun, but...just not the right environment. Her friend Sam had promised to help her get settled and show her the sights and tell her the references that students say when it comes to restaurants or coffee shops.

What she wasn’t expecting was to see a woman who was probably the most beautiful person she’d ever seen in her life standing at the top of the classroom.

“Can I help you?” Sharon asks, gathering her bag and her jacket.

“Just with your name,” she says with a grin. “I’m Natasha, I teach Russian. I heard we had a new kinesiology professor in town.”

“And how’d you hear that?” Sharon asks. Natasha just continues down the stairs, still smiling.

“A little birdie named Tony. You’ll get to know him soon. I figured you’d want at least one more person to know around here.”

“That’s always helpful,” Sharon says. “I’m Sharon, nice to meet you, Natasha.”

“Likewise,” Natasha says, looking around the classroom. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s really nice,” Sharon says. “The campus is beautiful, and Sam Wilson-do you know him?”

“We’ve met.”

“He’s been helping me around, been a real sweetheart.”

“He always is,” Natasha says, grinning. “But here, give me your phone. If you ever need someone else to show you around or you’re just bored, feel free to text or call.”

Sharon takes the proffered phone, smiling a bit as she types in her number and sends a quick text to herself.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure,” she says, and Natasha nods.

“Hopefully, yes.”

Natasha has a problem.

She doesn’t really know how to flirt that much.

Or, at least, get close to Sharon.

They’re in different departments, and all the way across campus from each other. Sure, there will be the staff get-togethers, but those are public. She also doesn’t know if Sharon even likes women.

They text occasionally, and she’s found out that Sharon now positively adores the little cafe down the road, but other than that she has no leads to go on.

“Why don’t you just ask your students?” Bruce says as he’s laying on her couch.

“What.”

Bruce gets up from his reclined position, leaning on one elbow.

“Ask your students. I had to ask them when Thor wouldn’t stop barging into my classes to ‘learn for free.’ They know a lot more than you think they know.”

“One of my students misspelled his own name,” Natasha deadpans. “I doubt that’d be of any help. Besides, I don’t think I’m the type to...ask them for advice.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” Bruce says with a shrug. “I had one student email me because she was concerned that I didn’t know that Thor liked me, and she was right! Just reinforce the fact that they can email you.”

“They don’t,” Natasha says. “They ask questions in class, or they attend office hours. I don’t like to answer emails.”

“You amaze me,” Bruce says, getting up. “I gotta get going, it’s late.”

“It’s eight-twenty p.m.”

“Like I said, it’s late. Good luck with your lady-love-problem!”

She asks Tony for help next.

Tony cackles in her face.

“No,” he says.

“Why not?”

“Because you are hilariously out of your depth for once, and so I get to make fun of you because you made fun of me for acting desperate around Rhodey.”

“I was right, and I don’t regret it,” Natasha says. “I’ll ask Sam.”

Sam just shrugs.

“Why not just ask her?”

“I can’t just do things like that,” Natasha hisses. “We don’t even know each other that well!”

“Then get to that level,” Sam says. “Ask her to walk in the park or something! Be her friend first, idiot.”

“Don’t you dare call me an idiot when you and Barnes’ version of flirting is threatening to not buy the other’s cereal at the grocery store.”

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that,” Sam says, waving his hand. “Go be friends, loser.”

Friends is easy. She can do friends. She will just ignore the fact that Sharon is gorgeous and cool and funny and easily a crush.

She can do that.

It goes...well. She asks Sharon if she wants to come with a group of her friends to trivia night.

“Are you sure?” Sharon asks over the phone. “I don’t want to intrude on your friends night...”

“You are a friend,” Natasha says.

“Aw, you sap,” Sharon teases. “What kind of trivia are we doing?”

“They’re trying to get us professors in on the lingo of modern students,” Nat says. “I’m going to try my best.”

Sharon looks like a dream in casual jean shorts, a worn t-shirt, and low heels.

“Is this too much?”

“You look fantastic,” Natasha promises. “Trust me. How’s your day been?”

“Better now that I have plans,” Sharon says, getting into the car. “Where’s trivia?”

“A teacher-exclusive bar,” she responds. “My friend Pepper is a marketing professor, and so she’s been working for years to keep students away from here. She’s done wonders.”

Sharon laughs, and it’s the best sound.

Modern Student Knowledge: Nat knows none of it.

But.

There’s an interesting question.

She’s read about violets and "Friend of Dorothy” and all of the questions and hints that people have used.

“girl in red” is a new one.

“It’s a music thing, I think,” Maria says. “One of my students asked another student that. I was trying to figure it out.”

After the answer is revealed, Sharon’s tapping away on her phone.

“Oh, gay music!” she says brightening. “This looks good.”

Natasha’s heart rises.

She drops off Sharon and does not watch her go up the stairs, and then she drives to her own apartment and opens up her laptop.

Ignoring the three emails from campus that came over the last two hours, she googles the band.

It’s stuff she would definitely have wanted to listen to when she was that age.

It might be subtle enough, maybe, if she could reference it around Sharon. She had looked at the lyrics after all. It would be obvious if she had known about the lyrics, but not if she had just skimmed to see more about the answer.

Natasha starts off humming. She’ll do it in the sort of out-of-sorts way that one does when they are doing the mundane things, like dishes or laundry or grading papers.

On occasion, Sharon will invite Nat over for a “grading session” which essentially means idly grading papers while having glasses of wine.

(Sharon looks pretty with red cheeks. Natasha never gets drunk enough to tell her.)

But she hums it as she’s writing out another critique on a student’s spelling of the word “chicken.”

“What are you humming?” Sharon asks, and Natasha clicks her pen.

“I, um. I looked up that one ‘girl in red’ music thing from trivia night. I like their stuff.”

“I’ll have to give it a listen,” Sharon says softly. Natasha looks up, and she doesn’t know what Sharon is thinking.

“You’d like it, I think.”

“Oh yeah? And why is that?”

“Good vibes,” Natasha answers, because it’s not like you can say “because you’re hot and so are women in general.” It just simply isn’t done.

The lyrics start a little bit after Christmas break begins. Natasha doesn’t really celebrate the holiday, although her birthday is close by. She doesn’t necessarily like saying this, although Sharon wants to know.

“Why?” Natasha asks.

“Well obviously you get people you care about a gift,” Sharon says, as if she’s stated the most casual thing in the world. (Her heart races.) “So, what gifts are you looking at?”

“I, um. I don’t really think about gifts.”

What she wants to say: I would like a Birthday Date. Or a kiss. Whatever I can get.

She doesn’t know what to answer.

“Well then, it means you’ll be surprised,” Sharon says with a wink.

They hang out and go Christmas shopping together for other people. They both agree that they need to really hunt for Bucky and Sam, who surprisingly are the hardest to shop for.

They’re in a store when the song actually comes on. Natasha grins as she sings it off and on, and doesn’t exactly see Sharon staring at her.

Even when Sharon isn’t there, Natasha will off-handedly sing the tunes when she’s cooking or cleaning or doing things around the apartment.

She doesn’t hear Sharon come in as she’s washing her dishes.

“They’re so pretty, it hurts, I’m not talking about boys, I’m talking about girls,” Natasha sings, and when she turns Sharon’s looking at her with a fond look.

She jumps about two feet in the air.

“Holy shit, I didn’t know you were here!” she says, holding her chest. “Oh my god, you were quiet.”

“I like the song choice,” Sharon says. “That’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh?” Natasha asks. “Any particular reason?”

“Well, I do happen to like girls, you know,” Sharon says, words seeming almost careful.

“Me too,” Natasha says carefully, looking into Sharon’s eyes.

“I brought you your gift,” Sharon says, holding out a box that’s been tried to be wrapped beautifully, but has not been at the very end. (Too much tape.)

Natasha still unwraps it carefully.

Inside is a Halloween mug, a tube of the darkest red lipstick Nat’s ever seen, and a gift-card to their favorite coffee shop.

“This is too kind,” Natasha murmurs, lifting them out of their paper. “How’d you know that I liked this kind of lipstick?”

“I had some help from Maria and Pep,” Sharon says. “But...I like that color too.”

Natasha looks at her for a moment.

“Sharon, you know what else would be nice for a birthday?”

“And what is that?” Sharon asks, grinning. “A nice dinner?”

“With the most attractive girl in town, if I can swing it,” Natasha says, grinning. “I’ll wear my lipstick out, we’ll take it for a test run.”

Sharon smiles back.

“You can be my girl in red, then.”

“I’d be glad to,” Natasha says. “Dinner tonight at six?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Their dinner goes smoothly. Their night even better. They find out that Sharon looks good with the red lipstick, although it’s rather hard to get off with just water and soap. (Nat ran out of make-up remover.)

#lovelyirony writes #natsharon #sharon carter #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #sam wilson #tony stark #a hint of sambucky bc i find them hilarious

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waywardfacegarden · 4 years

Text

burning embers

Modern Au: Zuko centric + The Gaang + Zukka + Friendship/Family feels + Angst and Fluff.

Summary: Zuko learns the meaning of love.

Read on Ao3 here.

There’s something so tragically painful about falling in love, they say.

But Zuko wouldn’t know. He doesn’t know what falling in love with someone is, he doesn’t know what it feels like. Love is a concept so alien to him; he can’t even grasp the root of it. He just knows a broken home, the remaining ashes of a devastating, blazing fire that was supposed to be his father’s love.

He doesn’t know what love is. And yet, he understands: the underlying and heart-wrenching agony that comes with loving. The sorrow that comes with it; it is just there, intrinsically linked. It’s something that the small kid—full of unknown love and golden warmth, but also deep, bitter pain—comprehends at the tender age of 11.

It’s just common knowledge for him, the same way he knows the sky is blue and the sun hides at night.

Family. Love. Father.

Those words don’t have meaning, Zuko thinks, lying on his bed one night, still hearing the disappointment in his father’s voice echoing in his ears in the quiet darkness of his room. They’re there, of course. And he knows them. He can say them. But they feel far away, slipping through the space between his fingers, becoming dust that blows away with the chilly wind of an autumn midnight, escaping him before he can place what was there in the first place.

They don’t hold weight. They don’t mean anything. They’re shallow; they just exist, like a couple of letters strewn together, like when you say your name so many times in a row it doesn’t even feel right anymore; but, he supposes only a few people are blessed with their significance, with tasting them in their mouth with something not akin to hate or bitterness or emptiness.

Loneliness. Despair. Dishonor.

Those have meaning. Those have weight, despite being such empty words.

(But they very much taste like something akin to hate, too—and that’s the thing.

Maybe Zuko just doesn’t know anything aside from [self-]hate.)

Family, love, father. They are concepts that come alive to him the same way a phoenix is born.

They rise, awakening from the ashes that the fire within themselves has burned to death; so beautiful, so mystical, so mesmeric and so incredibly fragile and precious and wondrous, like a mythological creature coming back to life after having known its own death.

He learns the words and their meaning the same way his brain starts learning new things and concepts by reading a book; but he doesn’t learn with his mind—even though a part of him knows that this is where knowledge is stored—Zuko learns with his heart (he has always learned things best with his heart; after all, Zuko wears it on his sleeve; he’s emotional, visceral, volatile—his feelings are way too intense, too much that they burn his chest open; he’s always aflame), with his eyes, with his hands. He learns it in every little gesture that’s given to him, in every little crack (that keeps filling and filling and filling) of the time that goes on, in every little drop of ink that is spilled on the parchment where his life is being written.

He learns the words in the way he begins learning his uncle's tea recipes, in the satisfaction and pride he feels when his uncle congratulates him for a job well-done on a warm, quiet Saturday afternoon as he finishes helping cleaning and serving the tables around the teashop, in the way his favorite cup sits next to his uncle's on the kitchen counter in the mornings, full of Zuko’s favorite bubble tea; he learns them in the ugly, endearing, oversized sweater hanging at the back of his closet, the one his uncle gave him in his last birthday; he learns about love in the gentle smiles of weekends, in the singing of the birds outside his room’s window, in the blanket that rests around his shoulders when he is sitting on the comfy couch on a calm Thursday night, dozing off while trying to study for an English test, in the way the nightmares that used to haunt him are tormenting him less and less every time; he learns the meaning of father in his uncle's ridiculous pajamas, full of tiny drawings of cherry blossoms and tea leaves, in his uncle’s obsession with Pai Sho, and in the wise phrases he keeps throwing at Zuko even when he cannot fully understand them.

He learns, little by little, step by step, like a slow fire burning inside his guts.

And it's a weird, strange thing. Zuko learned that fire hurts you, the same way he learned that love does, but somehow, after years of building his new life, it doesn't feel that way anymore.

His uncle is patient with him. Patient as someone who would teach someone else origami or as someone who’s slowly writing a book. He teaches him, sees him fall, stumble and trip over his feet (both, metaphorically and literally speaking) and he’s there when Zuko gets up again.

It’s a nice feeling. Knowing that someone is going to be there, even if you fall. Even when you fail.

His uncle teaches him, the same way he creates a new tea receipt for the menu; carefully, gently, ever so softly. He takes Zuko, the broken child who looks at him through his pain and hatred, and makes him open his eyes. He points out, over and over and over again, that failing is not a bad thing, that love exists and that it doesn't have to hurt, and that if it does, you can heal from it; he teaches him that Zuko is full of it, full of love, he says that he’s always been.

Somehow, it feels a bit like healing. Of course, Zuko is still broken. Probably, a part of him always will be; but, somehow, he doesn't think that being a bit broken is so wrong now.

Friendship was a foreign concept to him, too. Or maybe not, but Zuko never wanted to get involved with it.

Too much trouble.

(Or maybe fear—fear of what it carries, what it holds in its nature; fear of failing, of not being enough, of being left out, of getting too attached.)

But just as Zuko was wrong about so many things in his life, this is not the exception.

He comes to learn that, too.

It’s a different process than with his uncle. Maybe because it’s slower, or maybe because it’s, rather, faster. Maybe because he wasn’t aware he was learning at all.

Zuko doesn’t know exactly when it starts. Can’t pinpoint the exact moment he started getting involved. Not that he cares much about that at this point, but he would like to know.

They kind of adopt him in their group (or, er, gang, as they call it), without Zuko noticing. But to be fair, Zuko doesn’t notice a lot of things.

Toph is a friend of his Uncle, and she lives near the teashop, so she’s around more time than she’s not; she’s loud and kinda rude, and always calls Zuko a dork or a nerd or an idiot, but Zuko realizes he likes when she’s there. Aang comes along sometimes, with his scarily bright smile. There’s also Katara and her big brother, Sokka.

He likes all of them, to his extreme surprise. They’re all good people. Aang is way too kind, Katara may be scary but she’s pretty cool, and Sokka is just a combination of a very, weirdly endearing, smart dumbass, which is, uh, new.

He honestly doesn’t know how it happened, or when it happened, but suddenly he’s tucked under a soft fuzzy blanket in winter, sandwiched in the middle of the three-spot sofa, with Aang almost laying over his lap. He’s almost sitting on Sokka’s right leg, pressing him against the arm sofa, his side overlapping with Sokka’s. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He’s sitting there, cross-legged, with his right arm fully extended on the back of the sofa, almost like he’s hugging Zuko’s shoulders; he’s practically leaning on Zuko.

His arm and his side are really warm, though. Not as much as Zuko generally is, but it’s… kind of nice.

“Katara, Titanic is a classic, dude. What the hell.”

Zuko takes a sip from his hot chocolate, blowing off the clouds of steam gathering over the cup—the warmth of it is pretty welcomed in his throat, to be honest, while Katara rolls her eyes at her brother.

“I’m not watching that for the fifth time in a month and seeing you and Aang both cry for an hour later after the already three long hours of the movie.”

Sokka looks pretty indignant about Katara’s attitude towards his (probably) favorite movie, which is pretty amusing.

“You’re just a monster,” Sokka says, dramatically, “that’s why you don’t cry.”

Katara rolls her eyes again.

“I don’t know,” Toph says, from the couch closer to the TV, sprawled all comfortably over it. “It’s actually a really funny movie,” she points out, and then draws out her voice. “‘Jack, draw me like one of your French girls’.”

Aang laughs pretty loud, and Zuko smiles at the bad impersonation despite himself.

“Well, My Heart Will Go On is my anthem.” Sokka says, puffing out his chest.

Zuko actually snorts into his cup and Sokka shoots him a look. He remembers the time Aang and Sokka recreated that iconic scene, with Toph singing at the top of her lungs in a ridiculously obnoxious voice. He actually laughed at that.

Sokka seems to read his mind, because after a few moments of staring at Zuko’s face, his entire expression lights up. He grins, eyes sparkling, and starts singing really loud and purposely out of tune. Aang starts laughing and Toph doesn’t waste time on joining Sokka in singing. Even Katara smiles.

A few minutes later of terrible singing, they’re all laughing. Toph is cackling so hard she’s on the floor, and Sokka keeps leaning over him, laughing in his ear. He believes it should be annoying, but instead of that, it’s actually infectious and Zuko laughs a bit harder.

After they calm down, Toph is clutching at her sides and Sokka is wiping tears out of his eyes.

Aang smiles, then, softly and content, and raises a hand in the air, like asking for permission to talk.

“I have an idea.” He says, and turns around to look at him. “Why don’t we just let Zuko decide? He hasn’t chosen anything yet for our Friday movie nights.”

All eyes turn to look at him at that. He stops his movements, mouth hanging open, hot cup halfway to his lips.

“Uh,” he frowns. “Thank you, but, um. Why would I choose? It’s your thing.”

Everyone stares at him like he has two heads, which, okay fair but why.

“What?”

Aang gives him a soft smile, all kind eyes and gentle features, like he’s about to talk to a baby, but before he can say anything, Sokka is putting an arm around his shoulders and leaning all his weight on him, as if they weren’t already close enough.

“This is your thing as much as it is ours, dude.” He says, grinning, “You’re one of us.” He vaunts, proudly, and ruffles Zuko’s hair.

Katara nods, at the same time Toph goes:

“Yup, you’re already in, loser.”

Aang chuckles. “Yes, you’re our friend, Zuko.”

Zuko blinks, stunned.

That’s…

There’s…

That’s… the F-word.

Friend.

Huh? What? How? When did that happen? Huh? Did he miss something in the past few months?

Sokka, completely oblivious to his emotional turmoil, insistently points to the TV while squeezing him. "So, buddy? Don't you think we should watch Titanic to cry and share a couple of very male tears?"

"You only want to watch it because you have a crush on both Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio." Katara accuses.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yes, you do! You even still keep that poster of them behind your…"

"Katara!!!!"

Friend.

It’s a nice word.

It tastes like hot chocolate in his mouth on a cold night, it sounds like Sokka’s laugh and Toph’s jokes, and it looks like Aang’s kind eyes and Katara’s nice smile.

It feels like something. It holds meaning. It’s not an empty word. At all.

Sokka’s hand ruffling his hair or over his shoulders, Toph’s nicknames for him, Aang’s offer of help in times he feels like Zuko needs it, Katara’s help with homework and advice on his recipes doesn’t let him forget that. ‘Friend’ is never going to be an empty word.

Friend tastes like hope, like warm food and bear-hugs.

Friend is such a nice word.

The thing with Zuko being generally—and strangely—warm all the time is that summer is a complete nightmare for him.

He's sitting directly in front of the fan at full power, barefoot in just jeans and a light T-shirt, and yet he still feels like he's going to explode. The weather forecast in the morning heralded a heat wave in midsummer, and it's exactly the worst thing in the world that could happen to Zuko's already overheated body. Toph groans beside him, lying with her arms and legs spread like a starfish on the cold ground. It is no comfort to her, however, and Zuko can understand that well.

Katara is looking at something on her phone, fanning herself with a magazine, and Aang remains practically unaffected, just as energetic as ever as he eats the remaining watermelon slices from the bowl they recently filled.

Zuko is wondering if he should go, or if he should fall asleep on the freezing ground that doesn't seem to be freezing at all, when Sokka walks into the living room in his baseball uniform. He has just returned from his morning summer practice; sweat is running down the side of his face, and his shirt is partly sticking to his body from the moisture. He smiles at everyone in greeting before gulping down all that's left of the water on the bottle of his hand. Zuko stares at his Adam's apple bob while he's drinking, and then his eyes trail the trickle of water that slides down his jaw over his desperation to drink all the water so fast. The drop goes down, down, down, dripping over his collarbone and sinking into his neck until it eventually gets lost somewhere inside his shirt. Sokka throws the bottle over the trash can and uses his shirt collar to wipe the water and some of his sweat off his face. Zuko's eyes unconsciously move downward; he can see a line of skin on Sokka's abdomen and stomach.

He swallows. Uh. His mouth is suddenly very dry. He's probably dehydrated. Is he dehydrated? He's starting to feel a little dizzy.

"So? Beloved friends, beloved little sister? Did you miss me? Obviously, you did."

Katara rolls her eyes, but still asks, "How was practice, dumbass?"

"It was cool! I hit twelve curve-balls in a row and sixteen of that weird fastball Suki pitches. Oh! And I'm finally getting the thing about that forkball. Also... woah, Zuko, are you okay?!"

Zuko blinks from where he was staring at Sokka's hair. It's kind of wet. Is that sweat? Shouldn't that be gross? Why is Zuko staring? Does he find it gross? He doesn't think so, but he also can't quite explain why...

"Woah, bud," Sokka says, kneeling in front of him and getting dangerously close to his face. "You're so red, are you having heatstroke or something? Do you feel dizzy?" He leans on his knees and presses a hand to his forehead, pulling up the bangs hanging over it. It feels nice, actually. Sokka's soft hand on his boiling skin feels like fresh water. He kind of wants to lean into it.

He probably does, because Sokka frowns. "Maybe you have a fever..." His mouth presses into a thin line. "Don't you want to take a shower to cool off? I can lend you some clothes, we're about the same height, they'll fit."

Zuko blinks. Huh?

"Here, let me help you." Sokka says, helping him up.

Around an hour later, Zuko feels a lot better, laying with his back on the floor in Sokka's baggy shorts and blue T-shirt with a cartoonish drawing of The Pink Panther. Zuko smiles involuntarily when he looks at it. It smells a bit like Sokka, or at least the detergent he uses. That makes his stomach do weird flips. He's not feeling that hot anymore, but maybe he is getting sick...

"Hey," Sokka tells him, looking at him from above, standing just behind Zuko's head. His toes are barely avoiding touching Zuko's sprawled hair on the floor.

"Hey," Zuko answers back, looking up at Sokka's soft face. His hair is down and still wet from the shower, and a few drops fall on the bridge of Zuko's nose when Sokka hovers over him. Zuko's face scrunches up, more out of involuntary reaction than out of bother, but Sokka chuckles.

"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all. He uses the towel around his neck to messily dry his hair. "You look a lot better, now."

"Yes," Zuko muses, still a bit mesmerized by Sokka's wet hair. And Sokka's face. "Thanks."

Sokka grins brightly at him. "Sure."

He looks like he's about to say something else, but before he can say anything, Toph groans just a few feet away, sitting now on the couch. "Stop flirting and get a room already; it’s gross. We're here, too."

"What? We weren’t—"

Katara agrees, quietly.

"Hey! I was just worried!" Sokka excuses himself. "Weren't you all? His face was as red as a tomato."

Katara looks up from her magazine and gives him a pointed look, with one elegantly arched brow. Apparently, she doesn't even need to say anything else, because it's enough to make Sokka blush.

Oh.

He's cute, Zuko thinks. And then, oh, I think Sokka is cute. And then Sokka stomps over the kitchen muttering unintelligible things, still a faint blush over his cheeks.

Zuko smiles to himself watching his childish behavior. He is, though. He is cute.

It's raining heavily outside, drops pouring loudly against the asphalt of the sidewalk.

Zuko side-glances at Sokka. Maybe it's because after the course of a year, Zuko has learned to recognize many of Sokka's little gestures, or maybe it's the fact that the boy has been so much into his own mind lately, but Zuko recognizes that way he scrunches up his nose, that wrinkle between his eyebrows, that way his eyes twitch.

“Are you okay?”

He’s asking mostly just to be polite, to be honest; he already knows he’s not. He knows something’s up.

Sokka turns to look at him, and then stares at the rain hitting the glass window of the lonely teashop.

“I’m…” He says, and looks at his hand. Then he presses his mouth into a thin line.

“You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Zuko says, awkwardly, because as much as he cares, he’s still a mess when it comes to social cues. He’s never going to stop being a mess. And terrible at comforting people.

Sokka sees right through him, though, like he always does, and smiles softly at him. His whole face mellows. It kind of makes Zuko’s heart flutter in his chest, like a butterfly flapping its wings.

“I’m…” Sokka tries again, looking at Zuko’s face. At his eyes, at his scar, at his neck. He feels weirdly exposed, but at the same time… He doesn’t. It’s just Sokka. Which means it’s okay. “Scared, I guess.”

Zuko blinks and tilts his head to the side. He’s not sure if he should ask, but…

“Of?”

Sokka gives him a wry smile.

“Of failing? Of disappointing my dad? Of not being enough? I don’t know, I can’t quite pick a single one.”

Sokka’s voice is not quite bitter, but it feels like that, in the air around them. Zuko knows the feeling pretty well.

“You are enough.” Zuko affirms, without a single trace of hesitation in his voice. Because Sokka is enough, in every single aspect, and he shouldn’t feel like any less than that. Zuko’s also aware of what he’s worrying about, and for Zuko, it’s just absurd—Sokka is one the very few people that shouldn’t worry about passing the entrance exam of college at all, he’s crazy smart. He should know that. But, to be fair, Zuko can’t judge him nor scold him for self-doubt when it used to be all that he was, along with his self-hate. So he says it out loud, looking into Sokka’s wide, surprised eyes. “You’re also really smart, Sokka, I’m sure you’re going to ace the entrance exam. You shouldn’t worry.”

Sokka rolls his eyes, but he also adopts that playful-kinda-flirty side of him. It’s painful because Zuko can see the sadness underlying in his voice and body language so clearly. Can see the lack of confidence in every single motion.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I am,” he agrees, “but it doesn’t mean it isn’t true. I really believe so. You’re the smartest person I know. You’re very capable of doing whatever you want, so have faith in yourself just like I have faith in you.”

Once he says it, and Sokka blinks once, twice, thrice at him, Zuko feels painfully aware (and painfully embarrassed) of what he just said.

Oh Lord, what did he actually…

“Ah,” Sokka says, and makes a face that Zuko can’t name. “You’re blushing.”

Zuko covers his cheeks with both hands. Sokka is probably right, they’re so warm, but still.

“I’m not.” Still.

Sokka laughs, and raises both eyebrows. “You sure?” He asks, staring pointedly at his face, which only makes him blush harder.

Stupid Sokka.

He must know the effect he’s having on him, because he laughs again, lightheartedly. Well, at least he’s not upset anymore…

“I’m not,” he uselessly and pathetically insists, even when it’s tragically obvious he is. But he has some pride, okay.

Sokka grins, but it’s all devilish. It makes Zuko’s hair stand on end. A chill runs down his spine.

“It’s just hot.”

Sokka smirks. “Sure, you’re always hot.”

“Shut up,” Zuko complains and groans, facing away from him so that he can’t see his blatant embarrassment. Sokka’s natural flirty personality wasn’t that much of a problem back then, but it’s only gotten worse, and Zuko just can’t handle it sometimes. It feels like way too much.

“Ah, but you blush when you’re embarrassed. That’s cute.” Sokka points out, a wide grin on his face. “Imagine being both cute and hot, what a crime.”

He sighs theatrically, and Zuko is very tempted to answer, “shut up, look who’s talking,” but he knows he will just get more embarrassed after saying that. He needs to calm down. So he just grumbles while Sokka laughs.

Then, when Sokka has already calmed down and Zuko can feel his face like normal again, they look quietly at the rain, steadily keeping its pace.

“Zuko,” Sokka says, after some time, and Zuko quirks an eyebrow in reply.

Sokka smiles. “Thank you. For believing me. It means a lot.”

Zuko smiles back. “Of course.”

Zuko notices it one night. (Though, looking back, it’s weird he didn’t notice it before.)

Well, more like, Aang notices and points it out, and then Zuko realizes that what he said is pathetically true, lying in bed at night because he still mulls things over sometimes before going to sleep.

“You know,” Aang had casually said, holding a can of orange juice, sitting next to Zuko on the bleachers at one of Sokka’s practice games. “You stare at Sokka a lot.”

Zuko frowned. “It’s his game, after all. We’re here to watch him,” he had retorted, like it was obvious.

“Well, yes, but I don’t mean only now. You stare at him all the time.”

Zuko didn’t feel like he liked where this conversation was going. Something about his expression must had given him away, or maybe Aang was just too good at reading him now, because he said:

“Wait.” He actually had sounded surprised. “You mean you’re not aware you have a crush on him?”

Zuko’s eyes went wide. “What? I don’t have a crush on him.”

Aang quirked up an eyebrow. Sure, he didn’t need to say.

“I don’t,” he had pressed on.

Aang hadn’t looked any more convinced of what he had said. If anything, he looked more convinced on what he himself had said. Aang had looked at him for a very long period of 1 minute before lightly chuckling and nudging him in the arm with his elbow, smiling brightly at him.

It was weird, but Zuko has gotten better at reading them, maybe just as much as Aang has with him. Maybe that’s why he knows what Aang means with all of that. Admit it when you’re ready.

It’s not like he was trying to deny or hide it. It’s not like he was trying to lie. He just didn’t think Aang was actually right.

But he is. Zuko can’t stop looking at Sokka, all the time. Thinking about him. About the way he smiles, with his hair up, with his hair down, with that denim jacket that fits him in all the right angles, with his baseball cap, ecstatic after he scored a run in the 8th inning.

Sokka, practicing on the field. Grinning widely and openly and hugging him tightly when he aced the entrance exam. Leaning in to taste Zuko’s ice-cream into his own mouth. Ruffling his own messy hair. Wearing those silly cartoon t-shirts. Serenading Zuko with Electric Love and the most ridiculous voice ever on his birthday as a joke. Messy eating. Scrunching up his nose while drinking green tea. Reciting 80% of the Star Wars dialogues by heart. Being obsessed with boomerangs and swords (though not as much as Zuko is with that last one). Biting into the end of his pencil when he’s focused on writing an English essay.

Ahhhhh.

Oh, holy honor.

He has a crush. A crush. Feelings.

When did that happen? Why did that happen? He doesn’t know. Was it because of his warm eyes? His pretty smile? His pretty lips? Was it because he opened up to Zuko, let himself be vulnerable around him, bled his heart out so Zuko could piece it back together? Was it because he’s funny? Charming? Cool? Smart? Astonishingly cute? Was it because he made Zuko feel made out of thin air, sometimes, so raw and exposed but yet so safe, so comfortable in his own skin? ...That is, the others don’t necessarily make him feel unsafe, or uncomfortable. He just feels like he can be all open and vulnerable with Sokka better. Maybe because he opened up to him first, about something so personal like his mom (and Zuko knew about losing a mom, too).

Well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t exactly matter, does it? He’s already in deep.

Zuko rolls over his stomach and sighs, groaning loud into his pillow. Why, why, why, why. It’s not like he even has a chance, so why did he have to…

Ugh.

Feelings are stupid. His heart is stupid.

And the way he falls asleep thinking about Sokka’s laugh is even stupider.

The thing is, because Zuko notices all the little details in Sokka’s gestures and behavior, he also notices the way he acts differently towards… Certain people.

“Me and Yue?” Sokka laughs, and Zuko blinks. He didn’t even mean to ask it out loud. Now, he would just hear the confirmation of what he already knew from Sokka’s lips. How is that any better? Good job, Zuko.

“Nah, man, Suki would kill me if she sees me wooing her girlfriend. Or at least kick me pretty damn hard.” Huh? Zuko blinks again. Huh? So they’re… Sokka and Yue… They’re not…

“And believe me, she’s super strong. She kicked me once and I’ve always regretted eating that last cupcake on the fridge.” Sokka makes a face and shudders, like the mere flashback is enough to make him fear. But then he smiles, in that soft way of his that makes Zuko’s knees go really weak. “And I’m pretty sure Yue is immensely happy with her, too.”

Zuko doesn’t know what to say, so he just oh-so-eloquently utters:

“Ah.”

Sokka seems amused.

“Didn’t you know they were a thing? The PDA is so strong when they’re together, you have to have seen it.”

Well, that was… Zuko just thought they were touchy with each other? Sokka is pretty much touchy with him all the time, but that doesn’t mean they’re a thing.

Well.

“That’s rough, buddy.”

Sokka blinks. “Why?”

Zuko frowns. He tilts his head in confusion. “Because you are… Romantically attracted to her? It must be rough.”

Sokka blinks once, twice, three times. Stares. Then, he throws his head back and cackles, clutching his stomach.

“Dude, what the hell.” He wheezes. “Just say the word crush like normal people.”

“Hmm.”

Then, when he calms down, Sokka eyes Zuko.

“Wait, what?” He says, serious all of a sudden. Or at least, surprised. “Do you really think that?” At Zuko’s lack of response, Sokka looks at him, then at his hands, then at the TV, where the video game they were playing is still on pause. Then, back at Zuko’s face. “No, I don’t have a crush on her. Or on Suki, for that matter.”

Zuko frowns. Sokka must know he doesn’t believe him, because he continues.

“I mean, I did.” He admits. “Back when I met her, when I was, like, 14. But I’m over it, now—Not that she’s not great; she’s awesome and I love her, just… Not in that way. It was just a silly teen-crush, anyway. And Suki is my best friend. We had a thing for a few months like two years ago, but we hit it off so much better as friends. She’s my bi icon, though. And bestest friend.”

“Oh.”

“Besides,” Sokka adds, and eyes him pointedly, “I’m interested in someone else right now.”

Zuko stares. Blinks.

What.

So he does have someone he’s interested in anyway. God, Zuko really doesn’t stand a chance. Why even bothering trying? And it’s not like he knows how to try something, anyway…

From the other corner of the room, Aang shoots him a very cryptic look. Zuko can’t describe what he’s thinking, but he guesses he’s taking pity on him. After all, he knows.

Ah. He really doesn’t like having feelings.

His mind is a cruel thing. It’s what keeps him up at night, what reminds him of all his insecurities, what makes him feel undeserving of love, what keeps throwing image after image into his head of his broken childhood on bad days. It’s what, as much as his heart, knows about his deepest desires, his longing, his yearning and thinks it’s amusing to play with Zuko for a bit.

“Zuko,” Sokka says, with a fragile smile on his face, his voice going ridiculously soft, his eyes warming up, and Zuko’s heart pounds on his chest like big waves crashing on the shore of a lonely beach. “Zuko, I love you.”

It’s kind of—very—criminal the way Sokka makes him feel. The way he makes Zuko’s heart seem like it’s going to burst out of his chest with how fast it beats after hearing just those three words, the way he makes Zuko’s entire soul ache and want, the way he makes him feel so grounded, so him, yet so tiny and delicate, like he’s made out of thin sheets of ice.

Is this how love feels?

Is this how it should feel like?

He wouldn’t know. He doesn’t know what falling in love is. He just knows a broken home, the destructive, neon-like, toxic obsession with power his dad had, instead of any tender form of anything else that can be called love that his dad should have had for his mom, but never did.

Falling in love is made to hurt. Falling in love is destined to make you feel sad, and alone, and unsafe.

Falling in love is a cruel thing. It’s not cut out for weak people, and Zuko is weak. He’s destined to break. He has always been made out of fragile, easy-to-destroy things.

That’s why his mind plays with him all the time.

He wakes up in his bed, opens his eyes to the dark quiet of his room, feels the way his heart beats so hard that he can almost feel it on his throat. And he feels lost. And sad.

He doesn’t even scream. He just lies there, feeling the world becoming smaller, feeling himself becoming smaller.

Lord, he’s royally fucked. Screwed. He knows. He’s destined to break.

There’s something so tragically painful about falling in love, they say.

He’s sitting with Toph leaning back on his right side, on the fluffy couch in Katara and Sokka’s living room, cutting up squares out of colorful paper.

They are both terrible in the kitchen. Something coming from being rich kids, Sokka playfully teased earlier. And he guesses it’s true. Either way, they are terrible—Zuko even burned his own kitchen once while making scrambled eggs (and that was. Not a very good day). Sure, he has tried to help Uncle Iroh a couple of times, and he knows a bit of the basics, but besides preparing tea, he’s lost. He can’t cook to save his life. So when Zuko almost lights a fire to bake cookies and mixes up the recipe for the second time, Katara kicks them out and bans them from the kitchen for the next 4 hours. Toph protests just to be annoying—she doesn’t like cooking at all, she has told him, but she loves annoying Katara, it’s her favorite idle activity. Zuko would be offended, but it’s the smartest choice if they want to finish baking Aang’s birthday cake without setting the kitchen on fire, so it’s fine.

Besides, this way he can steal a few glances at Sokka, as he hangs up the decorations he and Toph are making. The muscles under his shirt flex when he raises his arms above his head, his messy hair down from its ponytail, falling over his face when he moves a bit to the left, a line of the smooth skin of his back making its way to Zuko's curious, avid eyes.

Zuko swallows.

Toph sighs heavily and throws her head back. “So, are you planning to make a move any time this century or are you a loser?”

Zuko eyes her, coming out of his stupor, confused. “What?”

Toph smirks. “Right, you’re always a loser, my bad.”

Zuko blinks. Not because of Toph calling him a loser, but because, for a second, he really doesn’t get what she means.

Then, when he does, he buries his face into his hands and groans.

“Even you know?”

Toph laughs. "Yes, idiot, it's stupidly obvious.” She pats his arm. “I can see it and I'm blind, you know."

Zuko groans again. He’s in physical pain right now. "How?"

She shrugs. "I don’t know. Maybe the way you say his name. Or talk about him."

Zuko feels a bit of panic.

What? Is he that obvious? How does he say Sokka’s name?

"His name?"

"Yeah,” Toph confirms, nodding exaggeratedly, “stupidly sappy. It's gross."

"Oh my god."

She laughs again, loudly, because his suffering is apparently amusing. "You also talk about him a lot," she chuckles, "and sigh every time you see him. At least that’s what I assume, given that he’s in the room and you keep sighing like a 12-year-old girl in love. Pinning all the way.”

Zuko wants to die. He seriously wants to die. Maybe he should just tell Sokka he likes him, so when he rejects him, Zuko can just die a quick, albeit painful, death.

Toph nudges at his arm, with her typical abnormal strength for someone her age, but she doesn’t mean any harm. “So?” She asks, again. “Are you planning to make a move or not?"

Zuko sighs, "I can't do anything, he likes someone else."

Toph kind of stops where she’s fumbling with a couple of paper sheets. She then turns around and makes this face, where she’s scrunching up her nose and frowning like she just smelled something sour, or like when she’s deeply confused. "Did he say that?"

"Yes."

"Did Sokka seriously tell you that?"

Zuko’s confused at Toph’s relentless insistence. "...Yes?"

Toph’s face goes back to normal, but there’s something about the way she continues to hum that makes it seem like she still thinks Zuko is an alien, or something.

"You must have misunderstood him—which wouldn’t be a surprise, to be honest." She says the last part in a whisper, but he still hears her. That’s probably what she wanted anyway, but it’s not like he gets it. What does that mean? Zuko gets Sokka. That’s one of the few things he’s really proud of. Did he just think that he got Sokka while, all this time, he actually didn’t?

No. He understands Sokka. Sokka himself has told him that.

"No, I didn't. And I don't have a chance if he likes someone else, so I might as well not even try."

Toph looks mad. "You're super pessimistic, dumbass."

"Hmm."

She sighs, looking deeply tired and frustrated, like Zuko has completely worn her out. Then, she raises her fist and punches him. Hard.

Ouch.

Zuko yelps, and rubs at his sore arm. “What was that for?” he grumbles.

She frowns. “To punch some sense into you, big oblivious idiot!" Toph hums a low, guttural sound in the back of her throat, like she’s a feral dog trying to threaten a pedestrian. “Just try, at least. Everyone is kind of getting tired of your pinning, too."

"Ah." Everyone?

"Full offence."

"Ah."

“Even Katara. The only reason she hasn’t intervened yet is because she says it’s not her business to push you, but I don’t think her reasoning is gonna last long.”

Katara too!? Oh, no.

Zuko seriously wants to die.

Eventually, things go on.

Zuko’s “crush” doesn’t go away. If anything, it just grows and grows and grows until it becomes almost unbearable. But he still can’t say anything.

“Zuko.”

“Hmm?”

“You know,” Sokka says, looking at him with feign innocence, sitting with his hands upwards behind him in Zuko’s room, “that looks heavy, want me to hold it for you?”

Zuko frowns. He looks up from his work to give Sokka a confused look. “What is, my pen?”

Sokka gives him that little, playful smile—the one that is so incredibly hot for some reason Zuko can’t understand. His eyes gleam, even more than they do all the time.

“Nope,” he says, and his smile grows an inch, “your hand.”

Zuko blinks. Sokka flirting with him is nothing new, that’s why he manages to hold back his blush a bit and remain calm, even when he’s a bit dying inside.

He is just trapped between telling him, “god, I wish you were flirting with me for real,” and, “please stop doing it, it’s not good for my heart,” and, “If only you knew how much I really want to hold your hand”, but neither of those options are actually. Something viable.

“Are you flirting with me?” He asks instead, knowing the answer already.

Sokka would laugh, brush it off, and say something like, “ah, but you didn’t blush this time,” and let it go.

He doesn’t, though.

What he does, instead, is shrug and look at Zuko’s textbook, like he’s completely uninterested in the conversation.

Huh.

But then he speaks up again.

“Have been for the past year and a half or so, but thanks for noticing.” He answers.

Zuko blinks. He’s tempted to answer, “yeah, I know, which is a cruel, cruel thing to do, by the way, given how my heart just wants to escape out of my chest and go with you every time you do it,” or something equally playful to play it down like they always tend to do, but… for some reason, this time it feels… Real.

Maybe he should just laugh.

He doesn’t, though, and, “What?” is what comes out of his mouth.

Sokka looks up. “I said that I’ve been doing it for a year and a half or so, thank you for finally noticing.”

Zuko doesn’t understand. He’s not following the conversation at all. “Wait.”

“Ahh,” Sokka sighs, “honestly, if you didn’t notice by the end of the month, I would have felt deeply embarrassed. I was starting to think I lost my charm and I didn’t know how to flirt.”

“Well, that was a terrible pick-up line,” Zuko can’t help but retort, and like he wasn’t mildly-insulted, Sokka grins at him.

“But it worked for you, didn’t it?” He teases, leaning on Zuko’s personal space, “it made you feel something.”

Zuko frowns. “How would you know?”

Sokka stares. “Your face.”

“My face?”

“I can see it. In your face.”

Zuko covers his mouth, frowning. He can feel his own heart race.

Sokka is still way too close.

“You can…?”

“Yup.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Zuko says, blinking. “That means—are you—are you flirting with me? For real?”

Sokka quirks both eyebrows. “Yes...?”

“But you—you…”

“Zuko, I don’t know where you got the idea, but I don’t flirt with anyone aside from you—at least, I haven’t done it in a long time. So yes, I am actually flirting with you.”

Zuko feels like he just got hit in the head. “Why?”

Sokka blinks. “Because I want to?”

“But why do you want to?”

Sokka shoots him a look. “Zuko,” he says, slowly, “I like you. I thought that was obvious already.”

Zuko blinks. “You have… romantic feelings for me?”

Sokka laughs, amused. “Yeah, Zuko, I have ‘romantic feelings’ for you.”

Zuko blinks again. He’s blinking too much. “So all this time… it was real… when you said… and that time you also said… and… oh.”

Sokka smiles, softly, and ruffles Zuko’s hair. It makes him blush. His heart might also not even work at this point, if it wasn’t for the fact that he can clearly hear it thundering in his ears.

Why is Sokka so calm? Zuko’s about to pass out.

“Katara is right, I’m dumb.”

Sokka grins. “Toph thinks so, too.”

“Toph thinks everyone is dumb.”

“Fair,” Sokka answers; he’s still grinning so wide. God, Sokka is so pretty. “Though I think she only calls us dumb, not that she means it.”

“Mmm.”

He’s so unfairly distracting, too. Zuko can’t stop looking at him.

“Wait,” He says, suddenly realizing something, “so you knew that I—that I—had feelings for you, too?”

Sokka looks at his lips when he talks, and Zuko has to concentrate hard to not straight up pass out from shock and his heart racing so fast it might give him an attack. Has he done that before? He would have noticed, right? Sure, Zuko looks at Sokka’s lips a lot instead than at his eyes, but he would have noticed if Sokka did it, too.

… Right?

He’s starting to feel dizzy. Is he dreaming? Is any of this real at all?

“Noticed it a while ago, yeah. That’s why I’m not freaking out that you noticed my flirting 100 years later.”

For a moment, Zuko is able to set aside his internal emotional turmoil and state of panic, if only to complain.

“Hey!” He frowns. “Wait—”

“You have said that a lot.”

“Wait,” Zuko repeats, just to be annoying, “if you… liked me, and knew that I liked you back, why didn’t you… make a move?”

“Like asking you out? I tried to, but you’re too oblivious.”

“Huh?” Zuko utters. What does that even mean? He’s not—well, he is, maybe, just a bit, but. “Well, if you knew that, you could have been more straightforward, you know!”

Sokka smiles, then shrugs.

“I guess we’re both dumb.”

Zuko feels his lips curling up, not able to contain all his happiness anymore, his brain catching up with the last 20 minutes of his life.

Holy shit, Sokka likes him. Sokka likes him. Him. Zuko. As in, romantically speaking.

Oh.

“I like you, Zuko.” Sokka says, as if Zuko’s brain didn’t shut down already. He reaches out and slides his hand on the table Zuko was previously working, the tip of his fingers touching Zuko’s. “So can I finally, please hold your hand?”

Zuko might pass out for real, but before that, he finally, finally, finally takes Sokka’s hand into his own.

It feels even better than in his dreams.

He feels like burning up, like all of his body is setting itself on fire.

Sokka’s hand is warm, so warm, and soft, so soft, and makes Zuko’s heart flutter like delicate flower’s petals in the wind.

Sokka’s thumb brushes over his knuckles; Sokka’s lips turn into a bright smile, like he’s been wanting to do that since forever.

It feels like home.

When they tell their friends they’re dating, Yue is the first one to say something.

“You mean you weren’t dating before?”

“Shocking, right,” Katara deadpans, but then she smiles, genuine. “I’m happy for both of you.”

(Although remembering that minutes later doesn’t make her any less scary, when she decides to corner him out of the bathroom and put a steady hand on his shoulder, feign-sweet smile on her face, and say with a weirdly off-calm voice that, if he ever dared to hurt Sokka on purpose, she was going to break all the 206 bones on his body.)

Toph grins brightly and kicks him enthusiastically on the side with a loud “Well-done, loser!” while Aang jumps on Zuko’s back and clings to him like a koala.

“That’s awesome, guys! Be happy!”

Zuko smiles.

“Finally, I won’t have to hear Sokka’s pinning all the time,” Suki quips, like she’s tired and utterly uninterested, but even the happiness is evident in her voice.

Sokka still complains. “Hey! I had to hear you be head-over-heels for Yue for months, too.”

“It wasn’t months for you, though.” Suki deadpans, but then her face goes all soft, “I’m kidding, So, I’m really happy for you two.”

Sokka smiles, and she gets up from where she’s cuddling Yue on the sofa to hug Sokka tightly, grinning wide, and then look at Zuko (stumbling with a happily laughing Aang on his back and Toph annoyingly ruffling his hair like a proud little sister) and whispers something in Sokka’s ear.

Zuko is glad that he’s still looking at Sokka from the corner of his eye, because he catches him blushing after that.

He’s cute.

Suki laughs. Sokka frowns, still blushing, and when he catches Zuko watching, he blushes harder.

He’s really cute.

Zuko smiles softly, and Sokka blinks, once, twice, before smiling back.

The cutest.

“Zuko.”

Zuko hums, but doesn’t look up from his work.

“Zukoooo, darling, love of my life.”

Zuko is used to it by now. To Sokka calling him pet-names like those. Of hearing Sokka say he’s cute, or hot, or smart, or witty, or pretty. It still makes his heart flutter, though. Just as Sokka’s laugh does. It still makes him blush sometimes.

(It’s funny because Sokka is the same way—or mostly the same. Zuko said he looked really hot after a baseball game once and Sokka almost died on the spot. He blushed like mad, but after he calmed down, he couldn’t stop bragging about Zuko calling him ‘hot’.

“Look at you, flirting shamelessly with me! You’re all grown up!” and, “I shouldn’t be near Zuko if I’m wearing my baseball uniform, he’ll get a boner,” and a lot of more phrases.)

“Hm?”

“You are—” Sokka sing-songs, and crosses his arms over Zuko’s textbook. He puts his chin over his forearms and looks up at Zuko’s face, grinning, and Zuko would probably be a bit annoyed that he’s not letting him finish his essay if it weren’t for the fact that he’s Sokka. His, ahem, boyfriend.

“I am…?”

“You are,” he repeats, and his smile grows bigger. Zuko thinks about kissing him; Zuko thinks about kissing him all the time. But, to be fair, he used to dream about that, just as much as he used to dream about them holding hands. And just as if he read Zuko’s mind, Sokka reaches out and holds his right hand; gently, like all of Sokka’s touches. It feels so nice, Zuko never wants to let go. “You are pulchritudinous.”

Eh?

Zuko tries to smile, but Sokka looks at him like he’s looking at a cute baby and throws his head back, still close and still holding his hand.

“You’re adorable.”

“What…?” Zuko is sure he looks as puzzled as he feels; he once caught his reflection in the mirror while playing Scrabble with Sokka and therefore knows how he must look. For some reason, Sokka finds it extremely cute. “What does that mean?”

Sokka laughs again.

Zuko narrows his eyes into slits. Or, maybe Sokka’s just making fun of him. (Not in a bad way, of course, Zuko knows. Sokka never means any harm, but he sure as hell loves teasing Zuko all the time.)

“Are you insulting me?”

Sokka wipes tears from his eyes and looks at Zuko with such a sweet face that it kinda makes Zuko stumble, even when he’s sitting.

His heart flutters alive, his face grows warm. He wants to kiss Sokka.

Sokka does, though, pulling gently at his hand and softly pressing his lips into Zuko’s wrist. He grins up at him.

“You’re adorable.”

(Later, when he’s waiting for a toast on Uncle Iroh’s kitchen, still barefoot, decked out in his pajamas and half-asleep, he finally finds what he thinks is the correct word using the search function of his phone—after 20 lame attempts of trying and failing at remembering—and pronouncing correctly—the right word.

He clicks on the dictionary tab, reads over the meaning, stumbles over, slips and falls flat on his ass.

He almost sets his kitchen on fire for the second time.)

Zuko is bad at flirting. He knows. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t try, hard, and sometimes, sometimes, he succeeds (conscious and unconsciously).

Or maybe Sokka is just too easy to fluster (even when Sokka says it’s the other way around; even when that’s actually, probably, just a bit, true.)

Either way, Zuko basks happily in seeing Sokka get all flustered. It makes him even cuter than he already is.

(Whipped, Toph would draw out, mockingly sing-song.

And, well, maybe he is.)

Kissing Sokka is like setting himself on fire. Like burning up alive, but not in the bad sense. Not in the way he was burned as a little kid.

Kissing Sokka is like sitting near a campfire when you’re feeling cold; like standing on the edge of a cliff, feeling your chest contract; like tucking yourself in a warm blanket, with fuzzy socks and drinking your favorite drink, while hearing your favorite song. It’s like waking up on a good day, like basking in the sun at twilight, like taking a warm shower after a long day.

He feels too much, way too overwhelmed, even with just a brush of lips.

Kissing Sokka is a blessed thing.

There’s something that comes alive in his chest at the same time their lips touch. It blossoms under his ribcage, spreads over his chest, warms up all the way up to his throat. Beating, growing, marveling in every fiber of his being. Maybe that’s what love is—maybe that’s what Zuko has been searching for all this time; this connection, this overwhelming feeling, this deep, raw, unfiltered emotion, coming off him through waves of desperation for more.

He can’t be sure. But even if it wasn’t something he has looked out for, the discovery of it still feels like a sacred thing.

It’s like watching cherry blossoms falling on the street for the first time, like falling asleep on the comfortable side of your bed after a tiring day, it’s coming back home—or to what home should feel like.

It’s something delicate, at first. Zuko doesn’t have any experience, so he just lets himself feel as Sokka presses his lips softly into his own, carding his long fingers into Zuko’s hair.

Zuko feels an electric chill run down his spine, where Sokka’s fingertips—from the hand that’s not on his hair—make a slow path down. He can feel them burning, even through his clothes, even when Sokka’s hand is not that warm.

But it feels like that.

Zuko breathes shakily, moves his lips experimentally, feeling Sokka’s smile against his mouth.

He wants to do something, so he leans in, feeling Sokka’s eyelashes tickling his cheekbones, feeling Sokka’s thumb under his jaw, angling his head in a better position, feeling himself become aflame. He wants to touch Sokka. He really wants to touch Sokka.

So he does.

He uses one hand to gently touch Sokka’s wrist—the one Sokka’s using to keep Zuko’s head up—and, carefully, tentatively, he wraps his fingers around it, caresses the skin like he wants to print a topographic map of it into his mind.

Sokka makes a low, appreciative sound, and Zuko feels so happy it should be embarrassing.

Sokka has his hair down, and Zuko wants to touch it so much because he loves Sokka’s hair. Sokka’s hair is so pretty—Sokka is so pretty—so he goes for it. He brushes his fingers on Sokka’s shoulder, touches the strands of brown hair that lie there, moves his fingers to the nape of his neck. Zuko does this slowly, he wants to feel everything and he’s not going to rush, not after how long he’s wanted this.

He cradles his head with his hand, touches and touches and touches. He pulls at his hair, lightly, and his hand goes down just a bit; the skin of Sokka’s neck under his fingertips is warm, and so soft. He can feel the gentle echo of his heartbeat thundering in the tender curve of his jaw.

Just then, Sokka’s thumb brushes on his bare clavicle, and Zuko hisses, feeling like he’s on fire. Feeling like he’s become burning embers.

It’s just—too much, and at the same time, not enough—he wants more.

He has always been sensitive, but it’s different now. It’s like all his senses are turned on—he’s hyper-aware of everything around him—of Sokka’s hands, of Sokka’s steady, fast heartbeat under his open palm, of Sokka’s smell, of Sokka’s warm mouth, of Sokka’s soft skin, of the way Sokka keeps mumbling his name, softly against his lips or when he breaks apart to breath. He touches Sokka’s face, Sokka’s arms, Sokka’s neck; breathes his name into his own mouth, makes sure Sokka knows how much he wants this, how much he’s dreamed of this: of kissing him, of him kissing him back.

It feels too good to be even real—just as Sokka always makes him feel, even when they’re not kissing.

He might as well die there.

It wouldn’t be a bad way to go, though.

Linked, bare soul to bare soul, with the prettiest, smartest, kindest boy he’s ever met.

There’s something so tragically painful about falling in love, they say. But as he sees Sokka laughing in front of him because of some ridiculous joke Toph made, holding Zuko’s hand like it’s the most precious thing in the world, he can’t help but think that falling in love is anything but painful.

Sokka turns around, catches him staring and grins, playfully wiggling his eyebrows.

Zuko smiles, thinking just how much he loves Sokka, how much he loves his life, how much he loves his uncle, how much he loves his friends, how much he loves being alive, being there, curled up with Sokka on his couch, watching a stupid rom-com movie on Sokka’s cell-phone screen, sharing earphones with his boyfriend. Being there, in the house that he shares with his uncle—his real dad—in the house that he has come to call home. Being there, feeling safe in Sokka’s arms, with Toph hearing music on the TV, while Aang and Katara and Suki and Yue sleep, sprawled there and there all over his living-room.

“I love you,” Zuko tells Sokka, like he just revealed the biggest secret of the universe.

Love.

He feels the word on his tongue, and it tastes sweet. It tastes like the color of Sokka’s eyes, like the tone of Sokka’s laugh, like all of Sokka’s smiles—the gentle one, the soft one, the playful and flirty one, the wide one—all of them. Love tastes like Sokka holding his hand while they go for a walk, like Sokka’s voice when he talks about what he likes, like Sokka’s proud eyes after scoring a run, after Zuko shows him his grades. It tastes like a lot of things he can’t name, like the way Sokka says his name, like the way Sokka makes him feel, like that little mole under Sokka’s jaw, like the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles with the setting sun of the beach, like the way his fingertips feel against Zuko’s neck. Like the way he looks at Zuko like he’s not broken, like he’s the best thing that ever existed, like his scar is beautiful and all of Zuko’s failures don’t matter to him because he’s him, and that is enough. Like Zuko is more than enough, and how he loves that he’s more than enough to Zuko, too.

“I love you,” Zuko says again, in a low voice, and it feels real. It has meaning. It’s not an empty word at all.

For some reason, he feels like tearing up a bit.

Sokka’s face mellows, softens; he brushes his thumb under Zuko’s left eye, just at the edge of his scar, and his eyes become impossibly warm. Zuko wants to kiss all of his face; he wants to taste all of Sokka’s softness on his own lips.

There, in the quiet of Zuko’s living-room, Sokka smiles, and Zuko thinks he’s the most bewitching, stunning, ineffably beautiful being.

It feels like something ethereal. Sokka smiles and Zuko feels blessed to exist.

“I love you, too,” Sokka answers, like he’s sharing one of the secrets of the universe, too, like he’s never told anyone anything more true, and ever so gentle.

Zuko smiles and kisses him.

Falling in love is a blessed thing.

#zukka #zukka fic #atla #avatar the last airbender #my writing #... this is my contribution to the atla/zukka fandom #please let me know what do you think in the comments/tags/ao3!!!!!!!!#have a lovely day and thanks for reading :')

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broadstbroskis · 4 years

Text

surprises- pt 1 | mat barzal

welp, here we go with barzy baby fic! how long’s it going to be? your guess is as good as mine! but i’m excited to start sharing with you guys and i’d love to hear what you think!

warnings: mention of the pandemic/quarantine

-----

The timing was pretty poor, you could acknowledge that.

Stuck in your apartment as a result of social distancing, you’d grown bored quickly. Working from home was only so exciting and your company’s slack channel was often getting more and more ridiculous as you and your coworkers searched for things to talk about (debates had thus far included best and worst Taylor Swift song, best and worst Harry Potter book, and ranking coworkers' new baby names).

Your roommate had left you on your own, in favor of quarantining herself with her relatively new boyfriend (ignoring your cries of betrayal as she left) so when your neighbor and friend from across the hall had come knocking, you welcomed him with open arms. “I’m bored out of my mind.” Your eyes are wide as you pull him inside.

“How do you think I feel?” You didn’t even notice the bottles of wine in Mat’s hands but you’re grateful for them as he settles them on the counter. “The only thing I can do is workout right now.”

You give him a look. “Yeah, because that’s what you need to be doing.”

“I’m going to lose my washboard abs.” He whines overdramatically, and that’s what sets you off.

Technically you’re still supposed to be working, but you know for a fact you’re not the only one who’s started drinking already and as long as you stay logged in for the next hour, no one will care. You and Mat quickly work your way through the first bottle and he’s popping the second one, while you log off your work account and place the take out order for pizza.

The second bottle goes almost as quickly, but then the two of you slow down once the food arrives. Mat pops the third bottle in your apartment after dinner, when the two of you settle in together, very closely, much closer than usual, for some Netflix.

You’re not really sure who makes the first move; you know you’re leaning against him and that his arm is around you, brushing against your shoulder, but the next thing you remember, you’re in his lap and his hands are eagerly tracing every bit of skin they can find.

That you end up in bed after that isn’t surprising. That it keeps happening is a little surprising. But, well, there’s not really a lot else to keep you occupied.

And it’s lot more fun to spend your days fucking Mat than doing almost anything else. There’s apparently a lot you two have been missing out on that you could have been doing.

Eventually, things go back to normal- or as normal as they could be after the pandemic that occurred-and despite the fun the two of you had during your quarantine, you fall easily back into friends and neighbors. Mat gets back to real training, a modified game schedule, and then into playoffs, where after crashing and burning in the first “round” (if you’d like to call it that), he heads back home to Western Canada for a shortened summer to catch up with family and friends.

You’re back at work, excited to be with people again. You and your coworkers institute happy hour Friday’s, where you all start ducking out of work two hours early-summer hours, your boss is calling them, completely ignoring the fact that no one else in your company is having them-to go to the bar, hang out, and just catch up after spending the long weeks apart. They usually end up turning into more of a shit show, with the office group chat often blowing up the next morning with complaints about how hungover people are.

It’s after one such happy hour that you first notice your issue. You wake up Saturday morning, roll over, and then immediately rush into the bathroom to throw up. Within the next hour, that happens four more times.

You’re lying as still as possible on the couch in the living room when your roommate comes out of her room and straight up laughs at your misery. “It’s not funny.” You whine at her, even though it makes you kind of nauseous to even talk.

“Yes it is.” Molly snickers. “You were home by like 8. For a lightweight like me to get to sit here and watch you be hungover as fuck when you didn’t even have this crazy night, this is my Christmas. Welcome to the club, bitch!” She cackles, not unkindly, but definitely remembering all the times that you and your friends had laughed at her when she’d been in your position.

You barely even hear her, as the first part of her sentence registers, and you bolt upright, immediately regretting it as you do so. You were home by 8. You hadn’t even had that much to drink, begging off a third drink after a headache had started. There’s absolutely no reason for you to be feeling this way.

“You’re right!” You’ve learned from your mistakes and you slowly lower yourself back down to the couch. “I must have eaten something funny.” You’re already starting to feel a little better, you think; it wasn’t nearly as nauseating to lower to the couch. You’re actually almost feeling like you could stomach some food.

“Ugh.” Molly scoffs in disgust. “Couldn’t you just let me have this?”

“Want to watch some Netflix and order breakfast?”

“Fine.”

And as the day goes on, you feel a ton better, even feeling well enough to join Molly and her boyfriend for dinner at one of your new favorite places. It’s another early night and you hold off on booze, just because your stomach’s still feeling kinda queasy from the morning.

And it’s full on rolling again the next morning. You’re back in the bathroom again first thing, which is where Molly finds you, a look of concern on her face. “So, what’s going on?”

You close your eyes, a little more sure that the nagging thought from yesterday morning might be true. “I think we need to take a walk.”

She gives you a look. “To where?”

“Drug store.”

She inhales a sharp breath. “To buy?”

“I think you know what.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be real to me until you said it.”

You stand up shakily, reaching for your toothbrush. No use in putting this off longer than you need to. “Yeah, me either.

Molly squeezes the arm that’s reaching out for your toothpaste comfortingly and then turns to leave and get ready herself.

-----

Once you’ve got far more pregnancy tests in your basket than you’ll hope to ever need in your life, Molly looks at you. “Did you want to take them all home or?”

“Or what? Take them here in CVS? This isn’t fucking Juno, Molly! We have an apartment!”

She shrugs as the two of you start walking up toward checkout. “Maybe you just didn’t want to taint your bathroom with those memories.”

That’s a good point. “I’ll just use yours.” You crack and the two of you burst into laughter, for the first time all day.

It feels so good to laugh that you don’t even notice someone calling out for your roommate. “Moll!” You both look around for the familiar voice, searching for Molly’s boyfriend, but you’d been so distracted by your laughter that you don’t realize how close he is until he speaks again. “Holy shit! Is there uh-something you need to tell me?”

Brian’s actually right there-like standing next to you, in line. Molly’s eyes are wide, looking between you and Brian in a panic as she’s unsure how to answer, so you step up. “They’re not for her; they’re for me.”

“Oh.” Brian says. Molly breathes out a sigh of relief. He looks over at you. “Uhh. Do I need to kick somebody’s ass?”

You burst into laughter and Molly slugs him on the arm. “Bri!”

“What?” He protests. “I’m just trying to be supportive.”

You’re still laughing. “Not yet.” You tell him. “I’ll keep you posted.” Brian’s great; the more time you spend with him, the more you grow to love him and the more convinced you become that he’s absolutely perfect for Molly. But there’s a zero percent chance he’s going to be able to beat up Mat, who’s probably got a good 3-4 inches and at least 30lbs. on him.

Brian grins. “Done deal. Should I go grab some-” He pauses. “Well I was going to ask if I should grab some booze to get this party on the road but that doesn’t seem appropriate. Sparkling cider? Orange juice?”

“There’s no point in having orange juice if there’s not champagne in it.” You tell him.

“Ohh, go hit that juice bar we were at last week!” Molly requests.

“See you in a few!” Brian salutes.

“I love him.” You tell her, as he exits the door.

“You can have him as a baby daddy.” She offers.

“I might take you up on that.” You pay for the absurd number of pregnancy tests and begin walking with her back home.

She scoffs. “Yeah, like you’re gonna need a stand in.”

You’re actually pretty nervous of that fact.

-----

A few hours later, you’ve got a string of positive pregnancy tests sitting in a row on the living room table. Not even one negative giving you a sliver of hope. Brian and Molly are drinking for you, for all three of you, and you’re sitting in your corner of the couch numbly staring at them.

Suddenly, you can’t take it anymore. You reach for your phone and press the contact for the one voice you need to hear now.

Mat answers almost immediately, laughing, sounding like he’s having a great time, doing...whatever he’s doing back at home. Sounding young and carefree, like the 23 year old he is. Like the 23 year old you usually sound like.

“Hey!” You can practically hear him grinning through the phone.

“Hey.” You are...decidedly not grinning, but you do your best to stay upbeat and positive.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, immediately, so you must not have done too good a job.

“Nothing.” You tell him. Despite what all the tests are saying, you don’t want to say anything until you call your doctor first thing in the morning. And this certainly isn’t a conversation you want to have with him over the phone if you can help it. “Just-a little bit of a crazy weekend.” Not necessarily in the sense you’d usually be referring, but not a lie, all the same.

“Big parties?” Mat teases.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath and trying not to cry. “Something like that.”

You can practically hear him frown. “Are you sure you’re okay, YN?”

“Yeah.” You tell him. “Just wondering when you’re coming back so I don’t have to water your plants anymore.”

“Do I still even have plants?” He asks skeptically. “I know what your black thumb is like.”

“I guess you’ll see when you come back!” The answer is no. There were no plants. You and Molly kept swearing you’d go out and replace them with new ones before he came back, but you were sure he’d be able to tell. He always could.

Mat laughs. “I know what that means.” In the background, you hear someone call for him and he shouts for them to fuck off.

“You got to go?”

“We’re about to go finish our hike.” Mat says, apologetically. “Have to get down the mountain now.”

“Ugh.” You scrunch your nose.

“Alright, city girl.” He teases. “I’m sure I’ll talk to you soon!”

“Excuse you, I am from Larchmont!”

He laughs again. “I think that’s probably worse.”

“Don’t fall down the mountain.” You tell him dryly.

“Is Molly there? I want to make sure you aren’t holding a voodoo doll right now.”

You laugh. “Bye Mat.” He bids you the same and you hang up, feeling much better than when you called.

Still anxious as shit, but at least Mat is still the same Mat.

You wonder for how long that will last after you tell him.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fan fic #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #my hockey fics #surprises series

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jjk-biased · 4 years

Text

youtuber! jungkook x youtuber! reader

crack! social media au

genre: fluff, crack, some angst

chapter summary: after somehow placing 2nd overall on OGN's e-sports festival, jin fulfills his bet by taking you and your friends to lotte world for a hopefully stress-free and peaceful day.

words: 1.8k (cannot be read as standalone)

warnings: aside from cussing, none!

24. unsaid feelings

<< previous | masterlist | next >>

The fireworks painted the dark sky with bright hues of red and blue. And while it could be the most beautiful view they've ever seen, Jungkook would beg to differ.

You were his prettiest view. The way your eyes would twinkle at each spark. How bright your smile would become as the glitters danced in the sky. The way your delicate hand encased in his would tighten at each exciting moment.

You were breathtaking.

Jungkook had long since ceased watching the show. He instead chose to observe your reactions to it with a dumb smile on his face. It was adorable. You were adorable.

Finally feeling his gaze on you, you found yourself turning red. Your eyes met his, then you two leaned closer.

and closer

and closer.

Until your lips were a few centimeters apart.

As the last and greatest firework exploded, you two ki—

“WAKE THE HELL UP YOU DORKS!!!”

for fucks’ sake.

Laughter rang throughout the living room as Jungkook fell from the couch. They all slept at Namjoon’s house once again after the e-sports festival had ended and it extended until today. Like how the first sleepover turned out, everyone fell asleep in the living room.

“Noisy much, Jin?” You grumble, also waking up from Jin’s morning call.

“If we wanna enjoy Lotte World and get there early, y’all shoulda been up and about.”

“IT’S ONLY 7 AM WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”

Hoseok, who somehow already had an immense amount of energy, cackled at you and Jungkook’s state. The others wordlessly began to wash their faces, some opted to help Jin with breakfast.

After a long time of preparing, the rambunctious group of friends finally went on their trip to Lotte World.

Unbeknownst to you and Jungkook, however, the little shits had planned something that you’re not sure whether to be thankful of or angry at.

Jungkook had finally admitted to everyone else, while you were fast asleep on the floor in between Namjoon and Hoseok, that he had been harboring a genuine liking towards you. He had gone to sleep not long after, and that was when Taehyung began to brew plans to give him a little push.

It’s been awhile since you’ve gone to any amusement park, so you had a child-like wonder painted on your face when everyone went in. It was absolutely adorable to say the least and even if Jungkook was unable to say it out loud, his dopey grin was enough.

You all thought it was a good idea to start the peaceful day with death disguised as rollercoasters. You’re sure you know who wanted everyone to die so early in the day, the terrified looks of all but one little shit told you more than you need to know.

“Do we really have to do what he says?” You grumble as Jungkook basks in his success.

“Might as well do it now when the line isn’t as long…” Yoongi trailed off, slowly losing the confidence he had stored in when he heard the shrieks of the people.

Luck might not be with you today when everyone scrambled to sit at the safest parts of the cart— which is everywhere but the first row. Moreover, the only person left to sit with you was none other than the idiot responsible for your demise that day.

“Hurry up pumpkin, you’re so slow!”

Whatever retort you wanted to throw was shoved in your throat when the staff secured your death seat.

“Aw is little pumpkin scared?”

“For the last time, jungleboy, I am nOT LI— FUCK THIS RIDE AAAAAH”

To say the least, your luck took a vacation and left you to suffer with Jungkook and the others.

Everyone decided to eat lunch after that traumatizing event. Namjoon and Jin were scouting for a place to eat, Hoseok and Yoongi decided to look for food choices, and that left you with the three youngest idiots of your idiot group to explore the rigged booths.

There was a shooting game where you just had to knock over the pyramid of cans to get the fluffiest alpaca ever. And while you’ve ingrained it in your mind that these games are scams, the child in you couldn’t resist wanting to win one because 1) alpaca soft 2) alpaca big.

Jungkook wasn’t an idiot— dear lord, someone tell him — or at least he could tell the meaning of your longing stare towards the cute alpaca plush.

With a sigh, he stopped you from doing one of the most dramatic “goodbyes” ever to an alpaca plush and tried for the game.

“Step right up, mister! Win anything in this booth for your girlfriend for the small price of ₩5,000!”

“Oh, w-we aren’t— he isn’t,” you pathetically denied. It seemed you were the only one who got embarrassed though because Jungkook didn’t deny anything.

He did it with so much ease that even the staff was left speechless at his show. Maybe it was the alpaca he gave you talking, but damn did butterflies erupt in your tummy. He looked so cool shooting the cans with so much focus. To think he spent money and did so just for you, you were sure your heart melted (and it wasn’t because of the heat!!)

You thought the funny feeling would die down after.

Boy were you wrong.

Time after time after time again, he never failed to make you feel giddy inside.

When the two of you were paired up for this horror house, he never made you feel embarrassed. He instead offered his arm to you, even going as far as wrapping said arm around you so you could find refuge in him when a particular bit scares you more. Poor boy was too flustered from the entire ordeal to even notice some of the scarers.

Then there was this time where he cheered out of glee when you won from one of the booths. (you two used Jin’s money though lmao) He had complimented you endlessly on how “great you were, pumpkin!”

Though he’d often tease you about your shorter stature, he lets you use him as a shade from the harsh sunlight. It was a small but nice gesture.

Everyone else retreated to the restrooms after thinking it was a good idea to drink a lot before going to the teacups ride. The look on their faces was a memory you’ll never forget.

You two sat on one of those benches nearby and began to talk about random things— ramens and gaming included. Jungkook received a text from Jimin saying that the lines were too long and they could roam around while waiting.

“How about we go to those souvenir shops? I wanna buy something now before it gets too crowded,” You suggested, pointing to the array of stores.

“I don’t mind that, let’s go!” He cheered, taking hold of your hand (you don’t know if he’s aware of that or not but it made you red).

The next hour was spent trying on dorky thingamajigs and whatnot. After trying on a pair of funny specs, you decided it was time to go back to checking out rides.

The sun had begun to set and pink hues scattered through the sky. It allowed for a more calm and serene mood to set in as you two walked, your arms linked, and roamed around the parks (as well as trying to ignore the bustling noise of happy kids and crying babies lmfao)

Ramen, that was the name of the alpaca Jungkook won for you, was safely tucked in his arms. You, on the other hand, were busy munching on the popcorn that Jungkook bought (it was supposed to be for himself but you had your ways)

You probably didn’t hear whatever was going around, too busy eating his popcorn to care, but Jungkook heard every murmur people threw your way. Admittedly, he wished that you two were actually a couple like the little kid said

He wasn’t sure how it began. You two started on a rather weird meeting— with you mocking his so-called fifth grader level skills in Overwatch to him replying rather pettily to win the argument. Somewhere down the line, you two actually had common friends and were forced to meet. That was the moment he was taken aback by you.

Well honestly, he was always taken aback.

You were witty; always had comebacks ready to deploy for every remark he had. You were skilled; not only a master at time management for balancing college life with your career, but also great at gaming. You were kind-hearted; though your verbal jabs were piercing, he knew you meant no harm.

You were too good for this world.

So when he had scared you, rather unintentionally, with a horror game, he regretted it so much. But to be honest, he was also thankful for that day. God knows he probably wouldn’t have had the chance to “restart” how he treated you if he hadn’t fucked up.

You probably didn’t notice how his teasing now focused more on the thought of you with him. While he isn’t the best at conveying romantic feelings, he was absolutely fluent in memes.

Thank god for memes.

But at some point, he does have to tell you what’s going on. He can’t stay in this weird space with you— somewhere between friends who fight and friends who flirt. With a shaky sigh, he decided today was the day.

As if the universe were with him, you then finally noticed his silence. It was heart-warming to see concern in your pretty face when you took note of the unusual quietness.

“Are you okay, kook?”

Like a goldfish out of water, he opened his mouth then closed it again.

Fuck, it was harder than he thought.

Thousands of thoughts went through his head. Will you take him seriously? Will you stop being friends? Will you hate him for the feelings he harbored?

Every negative thought disappeared at the sound of your amused laugh.

He reminds himself why he liked you so much and gathers little courage to speak out his mind.

This is it.

Oh my god, this is it.

“Y/N, I have something to tell you…” He trailed off, now facing her properly. (poor Ramen was being squeezed to death)

You became nervous. Did he notice my staring? Holy shit is he gonna tell me I’m weird?

“I think I li—”

“Y/N!”

Internally groaning at yet another interruption, Jungkook turned to whoever decided to call you out. It was a guy, definitely older than you. He turned to you, silently questioning if you knew the intruder, and was surprised to see none of your cheery aura.

You were livid.

“Daniel Y/L/N.”

a/n: tumblr decided to be a bitch and didn't save every edit i made so this took awhile. also, #danielisoverparty and oops, y'all thought Daniel was an ex lmao ig i made him sound too ex-y 🤡

taglist: @armymaknae @rjsmochii @chogiyeol-utopia @deolly @liitlefaiiery @patpus @br0ther-s @borednia @tyraparker @ancailinaerach @tae165 @cherrycolababie @nininek12 @atulipandarose @hannahdinse8 @hereforaus @amoreguk @thewariestofheads @parkmaeri @thia-aep @diorhobii @seungcheoluwu @mipetronella @callmesenpaix @jungshookmeup @yoongisabby @parkchaeyoung1997 @alpaca1612 @bangtan-serendipity @karissassirak @fullsunkook @salty-for-suga @cholychi @smolbeaniejimin @netflix-batman-sleep @snickerdoodleeee @faeriegukkie @kpop4mysoul @crazylittlemay @theneighborhoodfangirl

permanent taglist: @luvinseokjinnie @97faerie

#bts x reader #bts #bts fake text #bts twitter au #jungkook fake twitter #jungkook fake text #jungkook x female reader #bts fake twitter #jungkook x reader #bts social media au #jungkook imagine #youtuber! reader #youtuber! jungkook x reader

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gracelessfighters · 4 years

Text

Dragonfly - Chapter 5

JJ Maybank x female!reader series

Summary: Things are weird between you and JJ for a few days, but all is forgotten when he turns up on your doorstep, covered in bruises again

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: ANGST - mentions of abuse and death, injuries, maybe some swearing I cant remember

A/N: I love writing angst as I can relate to it so much more and it helped my mood today isn’t great but I hope the chapter flows well enough and people like it - and as always feedback is appreciated :) (little flashback in italics)

Catch up: Chapters 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

You woke up to the sun shining into your room, turning over you were met with empty space, you opened your eyes to see nothing where JJ had been laying the night before. You had agreed to go to John B’s together, why would he leave without telling you?

You sat up, not understanding why you felt so hurt at him leaving, you had helped him, and him you last night, but I guess now he was sober, he didn’t want your help. You couldn’t spend too much time thinking about this though, you needed a shower desperately and then you were still going to head to John B’s, whether JJ was there or not.

Only once you’d got into the shower, did your mind finally focus on the pain you felt in your arms, the one Rafe had grabbed now had a dark purple bruise covering a lot of the forearm, and the hand you had punched him with was also swollen and it ached. This was possibly the worst way you’d woken up in a while, but in all honesty you didn’t want to deal with your injuries or spend anymore time thinking about JJ. So you quickly finished your shower, wrapped a bandage around your hand, took some painkillers and got ready for the day ahead.

John B’s house was quiet when you got to it, most likely John B (and the others if they crashed there) were still asleep, and you didn’t want to wake them, so you made your way to the end of the dock where you sat and looked over at the water, lost in thought.

You had been looking out on a calm water, similar to the marsh you were looking at now, your mum at your side, sitting in silence whilst you both listened to the sounds of nature around you. The birds in the trees chirping their songs like they do every morning, the wind making its way through the trees, rustling the leaves as it went, and the early buzzing of the insects around you. This had been the lake where you’d had your moment with the dragonflies, it truly felt like a magical place to you, as if it was out of a fairy tale.

Your mum and you had spent many mornings like this, enjoying the calm before the day revealed what it had in store for you, it gave you a chance to breathe.

This particular morning, your mum had dragged you out of bed to go here with her, neither of you ever bothered getting your dad to come as he was the opposite of a morning person, and you kind of liked the ritual staying between the two of you.

You had been sat there for around 10 minutes before your mum started speaking, “No matter what happens in life never forget this place or what it means to us.”

You looked at her in confusion, “what?”

“Promise me, please, that you won’t forget this Y/N.” Her eyes seemed pained enough that you didn’t ask her anymore questions and said instead, “Of course I promise.”

At this response your mum had just wrapped her arm around you and kissed the top of your head, not realising you had felt a tear fall onto the same spot a moment later.

You were shaken from this memory when you heard someone call your name, their footsteps heading towards you. You cursed yourself for allowing your thoughts to move towards that memory, still not ready to face some of the pain you felt, especially in a place where someone could see, so with the footsteps getting closer you quickly wiped away the couple of tears that had fallen without you realising and turned to see John B approaching you.

You smiled at him, “Morning sunshine, how are you feeling today?”

“Better than expected actually,” he sat down next to you, “how about you? How’s the hand?”

“To be honest it aches a little,” you moved it in front of him, showing him the bandage, “but maybe worth it if Rafe feels worse this morning.”

He laughed, “God let’s hope so, I’m not sure his ego will easily recover from being hit by a girl in front of other people.”

You two fell into an easy silence for a minute or two before John B got up, clapping his hands together, “Right, I think it’s time we tried to wake up the others,” he held out a hand to help you up, “come on.”

You grabbed his hand with your good one and made your way back to the Chateau, falling back slightly when he first went inside, but you took a breath and went in.

The sight you saw made you smile, Pope was in an unnatural position asleep on the pullout with Kiara half off the other side, also sleeping peacefully.

John B was heading to what was probably the spare room, most likely for JJ, when you said to him, your voice hushed, “What’s the best way to wake them up without being killed?”

“No method I’ve ever tried has really worked so do what you want, but good luck and don’t let them kill you.”

You laughed, put your hand to your forehead and saluted him, “Yes sir.”

He was still laughing when he disappeared into the room, you looked down at the pair in front of you, assessing how you could wake them up. In the end you decided to risk their annoyance, as with the awkward way they’d been sleeping, there was room in the middle for you to jump.

You launched yourself onto the bed, falling down between them and jolting the bed enough that Kie fell off in shock and Pope managed to smack himself in the face. The anger on their faces didn’t last long as the cackle you’d let out at the scene you’d just witnessed was just as funny to them, so soon you were all sat there, Kie still on the floor, just laughing together.

“Why the fuck are you all so loud?” You heard JJ from the door, the silence died down, on your part it was from shock at how rough he looked this morning, you’d frozen when you’d seen the number of bruises on his face, and you dreaded to think what his torso looked like under the shirt he was wearing.

You made eye contact with him, before he could do or say anything though, you looked away, instead looking at John B who had given you a thumbs up for your method of waking up Kie and Pope. You gave him a big smile and bowed slightly, causing him to chuckle.

The rest of the day went by quite quickly, at first it was quite calm, the others recovering from the hangovers they had, luckily you’d always managed to avoid hangovers somehow, and then for the rest of the day you were all out on the boat.

Throughout the day you had felt JJ’s eyes on you, probably waiting for you to talk to him, but you avoided his eyes, still not sure you wanted to talk to him, especially with how your emotions had broken through your barriers that morning on the dock. On days that happened you were usually careful in avoiding any sort of emotional situation, and you felt like talking to JJ about why he had left without saying anything could become emotional, so even if it made you look a little bitchy, you did your best to avoid him.

Unfortunately Kie had picked up on how you were acting and pulled you to the side, away from the boys who were chatting at the wheel of the boat.

“Hey, what’s happened between you and JJ?”

“Nothing, I’m just not in the mood for his antics today.”

“Bullshit, you’re actively avoiding him, he has a face of a hurt puppy, the boys haven’t picked up on it cos they’re idiots, but I’m not.” She crossed her arms waiting for your answer.

“I don’t know why he looks like a ‘hurt puppy’ as you say, all I know is I let him stay round mine last night because I didn’t want him walking home in the state he was in, and when I woke up this morning he had already left, not even leaving a note.”

Kie was about to speak but you continued on, “and I’m being truthful when I say nothing happened, I’ve just had a difficult morning, and talking to him might make it worse, so I’m helping myself instead of him today. Okay?”

She gripped your hand, squeezing it slightly, “I can talk to him if you want?”

“No it’s honestly fine, I just don’t want to deal with him much today.”

“Okay then, we will relax together, and have a JJ free day.”

You smiled at her, thankful you’d met someone like her, someone who didn’t push too much and understood your wishes.

The rest of the day played out smoothly, JJ didn’t try and approach you, but the group as a whole had a good day out. Good enough that you were exhausted by the time you got home, quickly saying hi to your dad and avoiding him seeing the bruise on your arm, then heading to bed where you fell into a deep sleep very quickly.

—————

The next few days you were back at work, and you almost never saw anyone from the group, apart from Kie obviously, who you had a couple of shifts with, but you still hadn’t really spoken to JJ since the night of the Kegger. You now wanted to though, and it annoyed you slightly that he hadn’t tried speaking to you, probably thinking you’d still be slightly distant with him - but this whole situation was more due to him than you, you thought.

You decided that as you had a day off tomorrow, and were probably going to see the Pogues, you would try to talk to JJ then - at least try to get things back to how they were before the other night. The plan now made out in your head, you began to relax slightly, no longer feeling the awkward pang in your chest when you thought of him.

The rest of your work day went by without any issue, and by the time you’d had a pizza with your dad for tea, you still weren’t that tired, so instead of laying in your bed for another night in a row, you decided to go surfing.

The beach was quiet when you got there, nobody really out at this time, and you liked it. The night sky was reflected on the water, the sounds of the waves calmed your mind and heart, but it was only when you were about to step into the water that you realised the water might be too calm to surf. You didn’t want to go back home just yet though, so you left your board on the beach, and dove into the waves.

After being under the water for a minute, you resurfaced, treading water and keeping an eye on your position so the currents couldn’t move you too much without you realising; you stayed like this for a while, every now and then going back under water for as long as you could manage. Eventually your body began to tire, and you swam back to shore, grabbing your board from where you left it and got back into your car to head home.

—————

You were unlocking the door to your house when you heard movement behind you, you tried not to react, instead thinking about what you could use to protect yourself if needed, unfortunately all you had were the keys in your hand, so you turned around, ready to see what was behind you.

The sight was not what you expected, it was worse, you were frozen as you looked at JJ, blood running down his face, new bruises already forming over the ones from the other night, he wasn’t putting much weight on one of his legs and he had tears in his eyes.

Quickly shaking yourself out of the shock you had felt, you rushed towards him, “Holy shit JJ, what’s happened? Are you okay?”

His voice was gravelly, as if he’d been shouting, or screaming you thought with a shiver, “I went to your window but you weren’t there, so I waited here - I can go if you want.”

“Absolutely not,” you took his hand, already pulling him in the direction of your house, “I’ll clean you up again, yeah?”

You had turned to see if he was going to answer, but all he did was nod slightly, a tear falling down his cheek. The sight broke your heart and it took all your willpower to not cry as well.

He was silent - silent when you indicated for him to sit on the counter like last time, silent whilst you cleaned out his cuts and put ice on his wounds, silent when you led him into your room and sat him down on your bed. The only noises he ever made were sniffles or a hiss of pain when you cleaned out a bad cut.

You didn’t know what to do, whether you should ask him if he wanted to talk or to leave him alone completely. You crouched down in front of where he was sat, eye level with him, “Hey, will you be alright if I leave you for like five minutes? I’ve been in the sea so I kinda need a shower, but I don’t have to if you want me here with you.”

He looked at you, and shook his head and pointed back to the bathroom, showing he was fine with you leaving. You weren’t used to this quiet version of JJ, it unnerved you and made you want to break down in tears, but you couldn’t, at least not in front of him. So in the few minutes you were in the shower, you allowed a few tears to fall, heartbroken at the sight of him like this, but by the time you were back in your room, there was no sign of the emotions you’d let out, you were just ready to help him in any way you can.

He had settled down into your bed when you got back, the bruises on his chest obvious even in the dim light of your room, you made your way into bed next to him, laying on your side so you were facing him.

“You obviously don’t have to talk about it, but if you do want to I’m here for you.” He looked at you and the hand you’d held out for him to hold if he wanted it.

He put his hand in yours, still not saying anything, so you squeezed it and waited.

After a minute or so, he began speaking, “Um my dad did this to me,” you couldn’t help but let out a gasp at this, “he does it to me quite a lot actually, it’s why I spend so much time at John B’s - tonight it was because I wasn’t in the best of moods and didn’t get him a beer when he asked, so he told me how worthless I am, and that he wished I was dead.”

He sniffled, avoiding looking at you after what he said, completely unaware of the tears that were falling down your face, no longer contained by your resolve.

You squeezed his hand, “I may not have known you for a long time, but I know for a fact you’re not worthless, and the world would be an awful place if you were dead.”

He looked at you, likely still not convinced about what you were saying, so you continued, “You were one of the first people I met when I moved here, and because of my mum’s death, I wasn’t in the best of places, but everyday I have spent with you and the Pogues since have made my life a happier place again, you have especially had a part in that.”

You smiled at him, and to your delight, he smiled back.

You two lay like that for a while, holding hands in a comfortable silence. To your surprise it was JJ who broke the silence, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” You looked at him confused

“For leaving the other day without telling you, I just panicked because you saw me vulnerable and you were being so nice, I didn’t want you to see me differently or something, so I thought I’d leave.”

Just as you were going to respond, he continued talking, “and then you wouldn’t even look at me the next day and I thought I’d really messed up, and I was going to talk to you, but I don’t know, I just couldn’t bring myself to.”

Before he could continue rambling, and making himself feel worse again you interrupted, “Hey, you hadn’t messed up or anything, yes I was a little annoyed at you leaving without telling me, but I knew you must of had a reason, and I was having other issues that day so I wanted to avoid emotions and stuff if that makes sense.”

“Yeh it does, maybe you can talk to me about that stuff sometime if you’re up for it, and I’m really glad I haven’t messed anything up because I think I might like you Y/N.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, “That’s lucky, I think I might like you as well JJ Maybank.”

He pulled you closer, you put your head on his chest, careful not to hurt his bruises too much, and fell asleep like that, happy and content at the idea of being with the person beside you.

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