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#[[and then my professor said i could fix up that paper i was upset about. gonna try. submit it on monday maybe? maybe
silentchamp · 10 months
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[[Might be around later. Going to an RP event elsewhere and had a sick spell at like...5 am in the morning. my day has been pretty off. we'll see.
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m1d-45 · 1 year
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I just used all my saved primogems on wanderer's banner and he still didnt come home 😭
Can I request a small sagau fic about him for comfort
rest
word count: ~1k
-> warnings: dialogue heavy reader, no spoilers though
-> gn reader (you/yours)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr
< masterlist >
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your door was creaky. another thing to fix.
“why are you awake?”
but at least your wanderer was back.
you sit up from where you’re laying on the couch, taking a breath to clear your expression before turning to watch him come in. he shuts the door quietly despite the permanently sour look on his face, taking off his hat.
“welcome back. how was school?”
he made a face and you laughed, waving him over to join you. though he did walk closer, he merely crossed his arms and stood at the end of the couch. still, his voice wasn’t nearly as harsh as it could have been, “why do you insist on saying it like that?”
“the akademiya is a school, right?”
he stares, and you smile. it’s clear he doesn’t have an argument.
“i’m a professor.”
“you’re still going to school.”
“why are you upset?”
your smile slips. were you that transparent? “nothing for you to worry about. uh, you said you would be collecting draft essays today, right? how’d that go?”
his face shifts, softening just slightly around the edges. his hands fall, one propping on his side instead. “don’t change the subject.”
you could make a joke, but you’re too tired to try. the brief banter had given you some energy, but now…
you sigh, looking down to the discarded papers on the coffee table. letters, mostly, but a few diagrams you were supposed to look over. plans for a festival, a new shrine (how many did teyvat need?), the nth invitation to a lunch or event or whatever was going on that hour. you were honestly getting a headache before he showed up, and that wasn’t even addressing the other issues not on paper. “even gods can’t escape paperwork.”
he pulls all the papers—there’s a few not even taken from their envelopes yet, how did that happen—into a pile near the edge of the table, then sits beside you. he picks up a paper and skims it, then puts it to the side. “why are you handling this? shouldn’t someone else?”
you lean on his shoulder, watching as he begins to sort all the papers into two piles. you can’t pick out whatever pattern he’s using: some he lingers on for a few seconds, some he tosses in an instant. “they were addressed to me.”
“so? you don’t have to personally respond to every piece of fanmail.” he tosses one envelope into the second, larger pile with more force than the others. “it’s ridiculous. you should know better than to try and do all of this yourself.”
he’s probably right. as prickly as he can be, nine out of ten he at least had a good idea on how to approach an issue. he’d even clocked that you were stressed despite the fact that there was no was he could have seen your expression from the door.. though that may have something to do with your inability to hide your exhaustion when you turned.
“there.” he sets a final paper in the first, much smaller pile, then taps it into a neater stack. “this are the things that actually require your attention. don’t waste your time with things that don’t matter.”
“what about the other pile?”
“they don’t matter.”
“that’s rude.”
“it’s true. i can tell you’re tired already-“ damn, you didn’t want to worry him “-and i can guarantee most problems people have faced you with are better handled by others.”
“dear…”
“i’m serious.” he picks up the larger second pile, arranging them into a neater stack. “what do you have to do? name them.”
“theres a merchant in liyue-“
“that can be handled by the ministry of civil affairs.” he sets the pile down, leaning back. “what else?”
“an outbreak in mondstat-“
“knights of favonius’ problem.”
“a few rogues in sumeru have been defacing my statues.”
he paused, and you adjusted your position, leaning your back against him instead. he lifted his arm and put it across your chest, and when he spoke it was much softer. “still better handled by the mahamatra. if you aren’t directly involved, there’s no need to worry about them.”
“but they’re asking for help…”
“they’re asking the wrong person. trust me, you’re above them and their petty squabbles. in fact.. you should take a nap.”
“what?”
he moved toward the end of the couch, laying your head in his lap. “take a nap. or just lie down, i don’t care. relax for a bit. these people have given you too much stress already, it’s better if you didn’t waste any more energy on them.”
he was looking away, still obviously trying to keep up the image of indifference, but you could still spot the cracks. his hand still stayed on your shoulder, tracing random shapes across your shirt, and he didn’t say anything snarky when you put your own hand over his.
he cared for you, just as you cared for him. he cared enough that he’d remind you not to worry about unnecessary things, that he’d physically put himself between you and whatever problem the world demanded you face, even though on the surface it wouldn’t seem like he viewed you with anything less than distaste.
well, to others it was a conundrum. to you it was pretty clear, as who else would he sit with like this? he regularly ranted on about those who attended his lectures, still dismissed the words of mahamatra, still ignored most other authorities save for possibly nahida. but for you, he’d sort through your paperwork and have you sleep where he could ensure you did… he was sweet like that.
you smiled. “you’re adorable.”
“i am not.”
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maraa755 · 1 month
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Ch. 6, Eyes
'My Marauders' Masterlist General Masterlist Read On Wattpad - Here!
Pairings: J.P., R.L., S.B. x OC Warnings: N/A Word Count: 2.2k
"You know, this schedule could be a whole lot worse," Remus scrutinizes the thin piece of parchment as he takes a quick bite of sandwich, swallowing quickly to finish his statement, "If I had to guess, Minnie definitely takes a liking to us."
"You think she wrote this up herself?" James adds, trying to eye Remus's schedule.
"It's not like Dumbledore has time for that," Callie adds, her gaze shifting to the bearded headmaster, who is currently deep in conversation with Professors Flitwick and Sprout.
"Cal, the man only has time," Sirius objects, " I guarantee you he has a stack of muggle sudoku puzzles in his chambers waiting for him tonight."
Peter nods his head in agreement, his eyes slowly drifting from his friends and towards the hufflepuff table.
"Minnie is quite unfair though," James scoffs faintly as he directs his attention to Sirius, "I mean, you get to have detention with Calliope first."
Sirius shrugs with a smirk, taking a swift sip of his pumpkin juice.
"James, you only want to have it with me because you think I'll complete your lines for you," Calliope points her index finger towards the boy, "And, I won't!"
"Well, yeah, because you'll be busy doing my lines," Sirius retorts, prompting James to huff and Calliope to scoff lightheartedly.
"Both of you, do your own lines," Remus says, gently placing his paper on the wooden table.
"Yeah, you hear that? Do your own lines," Calliope teases with a grin.
"Can't have Moony protect you forever, Cal." Sirius retorts as James nods along.
"I'd love to hear you three argue about this, but I've got to head to the library to study," Remus says, sweeping his hand around the crumbs that have fallen onto the table and neatly placing them on his plate. He then rises, rubbing his palms against the fabric of his trousers. "Care to come along, Calliope?"
"I'd love to Rem, but I've got herbology in ten minutes." Her mouth tilts down into a small frown.
"No worries, another time then," Remus replies, picking up his schedule and neatly folding it before slipping it into his pocket. He offers a quick wave to the group as he takes long strides away from them.
After a few seconds of chewing, Calliope's hearty bite of her sandwich is abruptly interrupted.
"Hey, Cal?"
"Yes, Peter?"
"Why does Alice Fortescue keep looking over here– and most importantly, at you?"
Calliope swiftly shifts her focus to the bottom of the table, locking eyes with both Alice Fortescue and Mary MacDonald, their gazes icy and unwavering.
Fuck.
"Uhh...I dunno?" She says as she turns towards Peter, attempting to hide her furrowed brow.
She steals one more glance down the table, expecting the cold stares of Alice and Mary, but instead, she finds Lily's sad eyes fixed upon her direction. Lily quickly averts her gaze as soon as Calliope's eyes meet hers.
Fuck...Again.
"Oh woah, Lily looks so...upset?" Peter states as his left brown quirks up in confusion.
"Lily?" James's head pops up from his previous conversation with Sirius, prompting Sirius to follow his gaze down the table.
"What the hell?" James begins, turning from the woman who used to hold his heart and back to his friends.
"I haven't seen her that upset since the incident with Snivellus," Sirius remarks, his expression a mix of awe and concern.
"I-I need to see what happened to her," James declares, his gaze locking onto Calliope's guilt-ridden eyes, his own filled with concern and determination. James hurriedly gets up from his bench and makes his way towards the redhead, evidently ready to shield her from whatever anguish had caused her worried face.
"So much for no longer loving Red, eh?" He jests, lightly nudging Calliope's shoulder from across the table. Her only response is a tense brow as she continues to watch James stride towards Lily.
Sirius clears his throat pointedly. "I said, 'eh?'"
"I'd say so," Peter responds on behalf of Calliope, opting not to be the one to disrupt her daze.
"Thank you, Wormtail," Sirius acknowledges, then glances at Calliope's tense, downturned face. "Merlin, who died?" he asks, concern shown in his voice. He is once again answered with silence.
At the end of the table, James finally reaches Lily. Mary and Alice quickly excuse themselves, shooting several worried glances back at the two. James settles himself next to her, turning his body to face hers as he enfolds her deflated form in his large arms.
He lets go after a few seconds, still letting his touch linger against hers. Calliope watches as James speaks to Lily, but the words seem to blur together, incomprehensible amidst her own whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
Lily begins to speak as her head tilts down. James gently brushes her fiery hair away from her face, tucking a strand behind her ear with tender care.
After a few more words from James, Lily's gaze meets Calliope's once again. James's stare follows, a hint of confusion crossing his face as he notices Lily's glance towards Calliope. A subtle twist appears on his features.
Calliope's breath catches faintly in her throat, her surprise barely audible amidst the tension in the room.
"Cal, are you okay?" Sirius asks, turning his head, noticing her widened eyes and panicked demeanor.
"I'm fine, Sirius. I have to go." Calliope quickly discards her utensils onto her plate and begins to rise from the bench.
"But Calliope, you're going to miss what James has to say about Lily. You can't miss the drama!" Peter remarks, observing her manic movements from the bench.
"I... Herbology," Calliope hastily interjects, grabbing her schedule from the table before briskly making her exit.
"Yes, yes, herbology mustn't wait," Sirius calls out, his gaze trailing after her as she exits abruptly. "Strange one, our Cal," he adds with a bemused shake of his head.
Calliope walks throughout the candlelit halls, trying to suppress her feelings, but she knew that wasn't possible. She couldn't go to herbology in this condition– She knew it, and she was certain the people who witnessed her sudden departure knew it as well.
Upon this conclusion, she headed to the one place where she knew she could be, with the one person she knew could help her.
Her shoes tapped against the floor as she advanced towards the entrance of the library. She rushed into the door, making sure to silence her footsteps in order to avoid getting told off.
She walked past each section, holding out her hand to feel the cold, polished wood of the bookcases. She arrived at her and Remus's usual spot in the back corner of the library. Typically no one, not even the librarian, came back there.
To her luck there he sat, a book in one hand as the other dipped his fresh quill into the glass jar of black ink, preparing to write on a piece of parchment.
"Remus," She breathed out, her eyes beginning to swell with tears.
"Cal what are you- oh, sweet girl, come here," He dropped his quill at the sight of her, the dark ink splashing from the tip of the quill landing against the fresh paper. He pulled his chair out from the desk, making room for her to sit on his lap.
She takes the invitation and sits herself on to him, her legs draping across his thighs. His arms wrap around her securely as she tucks her head into his neck, warm tears wet his neck and run down to his chest. Remus pats her head while his other hand rubs calming circles on her lower thigh.
"Remus," She hiccups lightly, tears still flowing.
She had no idea why she had such a big reaction to the sight of Lily. Besides, Lily and Alice were the ones who had talked badly about her. Perhaps it was never about Lily.
"Shush, my love. You're okay." He whispers, "Can I do anything for you? Can I take you to my dorm, please?"
"But, James-" She abruptly stops her sentence, her stomach beginning to tense at the thought of his disappointment in her.
"James what, Calliope? What did James do?"
She didn't respond as a sigh reached Remus's throat, "Calliope, I'm going to take you to my dorm, yeah? James won't come in, I promise you. I'll lock it for you."
She nods in his neck.
Remus taps her leg, signaling for her to move them– which she does. They both stand from the tiny chair, Remus looking down to her face as he wipes stray tears with his thumb. "Come on now, Cal, let's go."
She takes her hand in his and they make their way out of the library, past the numerous hallways and staircases, and finally to the Gryffindor common room entrance.
"Mister Remus Lupin!" The Fat Lady announces as she sees the two, "Where on Earth is your posse, hm?"
"Good Afternoon, they must be attending class, Madam."
"Ahh, I see, yes and who may this be?"
"Calliope Thorne, you have certainly met her before."
"Yes, of course, it's hard to remember every other ordinary girl. Now, why has she been weeping? Is this the doing of you Mister Lupin?" She questions, her voice becoming accusatory.
"No, dear lady. We must get in. Acromantula venom." He mutters the password quickly, no longer wanting to consider this borderline deadly conversation.
"No time for conversation today mister Lupin?"
A sign reaches Remus's mouth as the portrait swings open. "The other portraits shall be delighted to hear the new news in the castle: 'Remus Lupin makes Calliope Thorne weep!'"
Calliope and Remus step in, disregarding what the portrait had just said.
"She makes answering a riddle each day look like nothing." Calliope jokes, a saddened expression still lasting on her face.
"You have no idea." Remus smiles.
Remus takes her hand in his once more and she follows him up the staircase and to the room the boys shared, along with Frank Longbottom. Calliope had been there a thousand times, although it felt unnatural to visit the room without the rest of the boys.
To her surprise, it was clean. The beds had been made neatly, each sheet folded where it must be and no laundry was strewn out onto the floor yet.
Remus guides Calliope to his bed where they both take a seat. He takes his wand out from his pocket and points it to the door, "Colloportus."
"There, all locked," He smiles at her, relieved to see tears are no longer dripping down her face, "Now, can you tell me what's wrong?"
Calliope nods and she explains what she had heard Alice and Lily talking about during James's quidditch practice. He listens intently, never taking his eyes off her, giving her his undivided attention.
"Cal, what Alice said about you... It shouldn't have been spoken," Remus murmurs, his head shaking in a slow, sorrowful motion.
"She barely knows me. What made her say something like that?" Calliope sighs, sounding genuinely puzzled.
Remus tenderly intertwines his fingers with Calliope's, his touch gentle yet filled with unspoken affection. "I believe that she only dared to speak about you in that manner to placate Lily. Like you said, she doesn't know you. How could she know that you are not up to James's 'standards?'"
"She wouldn't know." Calliope says with a solemn nod, the bewildered expression gradually leaving her face.
"Exactly," Remus affirms, his hands gently leaving hers to offer a comforting pat on her back, "So after you heard them, what did you do?"
"Well, practice ended and James had seen me watching, so he called my name and met me at the very edge of the Quidditch stands," she explains, her voice carrying a mix of nostalgia and vulnerability, as a rosy blush formed, "The first thing I did was hug him, In front of Lily and Alice...with, I guess, the intent of getting some kind of revenge."
"Calliope," Remus cautions, his tone carrying a note of warning.
"I know, it wasn't the kindest thing I could've done... I was just so pissed off. I couldn't let Alice get away with saying that—I just couldn't," Calliope confesses, her voice filled with frustration.
He nods in response, his eyes curious as he asks, "Are you sure that was the sole reason?"
Her eyebrows furrow, "What?"
He repositions himself on the bed, ensuring he can clearly see her face. "Are you sure that is why you did it? It was to retaliate against Alice and Lily and make them feel stupid, Or," He pauses, his gaze penetrating hers intently, "Was it to prove to yourself that you're worthy, regardless of what they say, to be with James?"
A heavy silence descends upon the room, filling the space between them with unspoken questions and tension. Calliope averts her gaze from his face, her eyes drifting downward to the floor, unable to meet his stare.
He gently takes her hand back into his own, his touch guiding her deep eyes back to meet his own as he brushes the back of his hand along her jawline with care.
She nods, acknowledging that she understands her own actions. Remus's hand slides from her jawline up to her cheekbone, silently encouraging her to begin speaking. Her mouth gapes open, poised to speak, but before she can utter a word, the doorknob jiggles. A shocked look is shared by the pair, both unsure of how to proceed in the face of the unexpected interruption..
Once denied entry, the person outside knocks sharply, the sound echoing loudly in the room.
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thatdammchickennugget · 11 months
Text
Premonition - Chapter Eight
A Visit With Dumbledore
pairing - george weasley x original female character
warnings - none
wordcount - 1185
set - february 12th, 1990
series masterlist - previous chapter - next chapter
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Elliana made her way up the circular stone staircase and wondered if she was in trouble. Professor McGonagall had not looked upset when she came to talk to her. The professor only told her that she had noticed that Ellie was having some trouble and that Dumbledore would like to talk to her about it.
She reached the top of the staircase and looked around the room in awe. It was an interesting room, to say the least. The big circular room was filled to the brink with papers, books, strange looking furniture, and hundreds of little trinkets. It was Ellie’s first time in the headmaster’s office, and she wished she had the time to walk around the and inspect everything, but her nerves lead her straight to the enormous claw-footed desk, where Professor Dumbledore was sitting.
“Ah, Ms. Vidal. Take a seat,” he mentioned to one of the two chairs in front of the table. “Do you want a lemon drop?” The headmaster tilted the jar with candies towards her, but she shook her head.
“No. Thank you, Professor.” She took a seat as her hands started fiddling with her robes.
“How are you feeling today? Are your classes going alright?” he asked and leaned forward onto the table, looking at her over his glasses. Ellie cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter.
“I’m fine, Professor. And my classes are great. I especially find herbology fascinating. Only the flying lessons are a little difficult. But I’m sure I will get the hang of it eventually.”
The Professor sent her a smile, satisfied with her response and happy to hear a student finding their classes interesting. “Professor McGonagall has told me that she has noticed something quite odd about you.”
He noticed the girl in front of him stiffen and look down at her hands. “She said that sometimes during class you zone out and that no one is able to reach for a while. She has also noticed your eyes looking strange when it happens. And I heard you are often tired during your classes, that you are possibly not getting enough sleep. Is that right?”
She was right. She was in trouble. “Yes. I am very sorry, Professor. I will try not to let it happen again, but sometimes it just happens, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
Her right hand went to her left arm, scratching at the skin just above her wrist. “And I’m tired a lot because I still have nightmares. They stopped for a while but since I have been at Hogwarts they have come back.”
Professor Dumbledore sunk back into his chair, keeping his eyes fixed on the student, thinking about what she had told him. “What exactly happens when you zone out in class?” he asked.
Professor McGonagall had already informed him about the girl’s glazed over eyes and how she would not stop scribbling on whatever surface was in front of her. She had also informed him that this has led to some of the other kids in her year making fun of her after class.
“I’m not sure. It has been happening since I was little. My brother said it also happened the night my uncle and aunt died, but I don’t remember that night very well. It’s like time passes without me knowing. Like falling asleep, I guess. One moment I am there and the next it feels as if I am waking up. I don’t know what triggers it or how to prevent it. I just know that when it happens my hands start drawing random pictures and patterns or writing random words.” The girl paused for a moment, unsure if she should tell him what she was thinking.
“Go on. I’m listening,” he told her in a calm voice, sending her another encouraging smile. Elliana could not lie, it did feel good to talk about it. The only person who knew about all of this was her brother and writing to him did not feel nearly as relieving as talking to him in person about it.
“Sometimes I think-” she hesitated again, biting the inside of her cheek before giving herself a push and telling him. “Sometimes I think that what I draw and write is connected to things that happen around me. And I know this probably sounds stupid, but I think they are predictions.”
She looked at the Professor in front of her and found him studying her face. “Can you give me some examples?” he asked nicely, pushing the candy jar towards her once more. This time the girl took one of the lemon drops out of the jar and popped it into her mouth, if just to give her more time to think before talking.
“Just a few days ago, the day before my friend Cedric crashed into a tree and broke his leg during our flying lesson, I kept drawing broken brooms all day. Or a couple days before Archie Berthold’s owl died, I zoned out in the library and when I came back my potion’s notes were covered in sketches of dead owls. And I know these could all be coincidences, but it has been happening way too often for me to believe that anymore.”
Elliana took a deep breath, before she started talking again, deciding to fully trust the professor in front of her. “The worst one so far happened the day my parents died. Before I went to bed that night, I was drawing at my desk and the next moment I looked down all I saw was fire. Drawings of flames. That cannot be a coincidence, right?”
“Elliana. You are at a school for magic. Everybody around you is magic. What you are saying sounds in no way stupid. There have been thousands of kids at this school, many of them with special talents. Just like you.”
Ellie felt her breathing calm down slowly. She shoved her hands under her legs, sitting on them to stop them from scratching at her skin. “There is one other thing.” The Professor mentioned for her to go on, already guessing what she was about to tell him, due to Professor McGonagall’s sightings.
“Something similar sometimes happens when I touch people. Not always, but sometimes it’s like I am thrown into a dream, or a memory, when I touch someone. I never exactly know what I’m seeing, but they are almost never nice to see.”
“We will figure this out together. How about you meet me here once every week, so we can discuss and try to find out how you can better control your special talent,” he asked and sent her a questioning look. She nodded at his question.
“That would be nice. Thank you, Professor Dumbledore.”
“And in the meantime,” Professor Dumbledore reached into one of the many drawers under his desk and pulled out a thin pair of brown gloves, sliding them across the table towards the girl. “These should make it a little easier for you.”
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starryhyuck · 4 years
Text
just like magic. (m)
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pairing: fuckboy!jaehyun x fuckgirl!reader
words: 4k+
summary: jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.
genre: fluff, smut
warnings: multiple sex partners, public sex, sex on the roof, multiple orgasms, degradation, wall sex, creampie
Your head rests on the bathroom mirror, inhaling and exhaling loudly as Mingyu finds a wipe to clean you up.
“Ugh. I can’t believe we did it in Bambam’s gross bathroom.”
Mingyu chuckles, the deep sound echoing in the small space. “Please. Don’t act like you’re so disgusted now.” You roll your eyes at his comment while he cleans the cum smeared on the inside of your thighs. “Besides, it’s not like you were having fun at the party anyways.”
You shrug and jump down from the sink, straightening out your skirt and trying to look somewhat presentable.
“True,” you murmur, fixing your hair in the mirror. “Jungkook couldn’t come tonight so it was way easier to find you.”
He scoffs. “As if Jungkook could fuck you better than me.”
You laugh and find the lipgloss sitting at the bottom of your bag. “Oh, he can. He’s not a little gym rat for nothing, you know.”
Mingyu huffs, leaning down to pull your panties back up and straightening your skirt. This scene isn’t unfamiliar to the both of you, although doing it in Bambam’s bathroom certainly was. You’re pretty sure Bambam smoked a shit ton of weed before his party started, and Mingyu opens the bathroom window to release some of the odor.
“See you in 104. Did you finish the extra credit paper already?”
You shook your head, opening the bathroom door and hearing the lively party continue downstairs.
“Nope, not planning to,” you give him one last kiss on the cheek. “Nice fuck, Gyu. Tell Jungkook to show up next time.”
He rolls his eyes again and you two depart, almost toppling over as you bump into Jung Jaehyun on the stairs. His arm quickly slides around your waist to prevent you from falling. He smiles at you.
“How was Mingyu?”
“How was Jennie?”
He chuckles. “Good. As always. You really have to start expanding your little black book. Mingyu and Jungkook aren’t always going to be around, you know.”
You raise an eyebrow and step away from him, shooing his arm away from you. “You don’t think I have backups, silly? Doyoung is at my beck and call, I assure you.”
He smirks, raising his red solo cup to you. “If you ever need me.”
You dismiss him, walking down the stairway of Bambam and Yugyeom’s place. You and Jaehyun had always been similar in many ways, especially in the way you ‘connect’ with other people. If you two ever had a body count competition, it would surely have Johnny’s head spinning all night at the numbers. You never fucked Jaehyun, however, simply because you had no desire to. You’ve known Jaehyun for as long as you’ve known Mingyu, but the only personality trait you’ve ever deducted from Jaehyun was that he’s excellent in bed.
That, and the fact that during your first year of college, Yuta spread some rumor that Jaehyun masturbates to the thought of you.
No big deal.
You find Minghao and Sicheng speaking in the kitchen, and you whine when you clutch Minghao’s arm.
“I’m tired, Hao.”
“You leave us to go fuck Mingyu for a hour and now you want to go home?”
You can hear the condescending tone in Minghao’s voice and you do your best to ignore it. You offer him your best toothy grin. “Come on, designated driver. You’re not even doing anything remotely fun!”
“Hey!” Sicheng interjects. “We were actually just talking.”
You lean over to pinch his cheeks and Sicheng nearly growls at you.
“You’re cute, but you and Minghao talk all the time. Nothing new. Plus, all of us are roommates, dumbass! We could talk at home any time we want to.”
“Fine, fine,” Minghao concedes, laying his cup down on the kitchen counter. You ignore the fact that Yugyeom’s tongue is shoved down some girl’s throat only five feet away from all of you. “Did you already clean yourself up? I don’t want any of Mingyu’s germs in my car.”
“Are we sure it was Mingyu?” Sicheng counters. “It could’ve been Jungkook or Doyoung or Wonwoo or Jinyoung or-“
“Alright, alright,” you glare at him. “And yes, it was Mingyu. He already cleaned me up so you won’t get any Gyu germs.”
“Good.”
Minghao still has trouble trusting you after that one time you wore a skirt with no panties and let Kun’s cum spill all over Minghao’s front seat. Sicheng is still extremely traumatized from the situation.
You exit the house party with your roommates, almost stopping at the sight of Kunhang looking like a fucking dream near the speakers-
“Come on, you horny asshole,” Sicheng grunts, pushing you out the door.
“Did you hear the news?”
Your eyes flutter at the sight of Nakamoto Yuta, who is leaning over your desk, smiling. You sigh and decide to entertain him.
“What is it now, Yuta?”
“A little birdy told me that a certain Jung Jaehyun has fallen for Mingyu’s girl,” Yuta’s smirk widens when you furrow your eyebrows.
“Mingyu has a girlfriend?”
He huffs. “You, dumbass.”
You giggle at the thought of dating Mingyu and roll your eyes. “You’re full of shit, Nakamoto.”
He stands straight, his figure towering over you. You peek your head out to see if the lecture has started yet so Yuta can get the fuck away from you.
“Then why did I hear Jaehyun calling your name when he was getting his dick wet this morning?”
The accusation has your eyebrows raising. You barely know Jaehyun, only from fleeting stories from Mingyu and Jungkook. You also know that Yuta’s always full of shit, spreading rumors about various people just because he can.
“Get your head out of your ass, Yuta.”
He laughs at your dismissive nature, leaning in again. There’s a troublesome glint in his eyes.
“And what if I told you Mingyu said Jaehyun’s loved you since you were five?”
You challenge him. “I would say that the cum in Miyeon’s panties say otherwise.”
He smiles and steps back when the professor finally enters the room.
“Whatever you want to believe.”
That conversation with Yuta was three years ago. He’s graduated long since, but the rumor about Jaehyun still pops up here and there. Jaehyun never addressed it with you, and when you asked Mingyu about it once, he just laughed.
“A lot of guys on campus jack off to the thought of you. Are you surprised?”
You think about the memory as you watch Soojin straddle Jaehyun, her hair falling over the side of her face as she leans in to kiss him. The rest of the party ignores them, mainly focused on how Bambam is nearly toppling over trying to do a keg stand.
A hand slides around your waist and you feel someone’s lips attach to your neck.
“Gyu told me you were looking for me the other day,” Jungkook murmurs lowly in your ear. “Did you miss me?”
You smile when you feel his fingers inch closer to your breast, hands roaming all over your body.
“Yes. Your absence made me fuck Mingyu in Bambam’s germ-covered bathroom.”
He chuckles lowly, and the sound shoots straight to your core.
“I’m here now, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
Your eyes drift upwards again, startled to find Jaehyun already gazing at you. Soojin’s sucking at his neck, but his eyes are locked on you, watching the way Jungkook paws at your breast.
Yuta’s voice rings in your ears. Jaehyun’s loved you since you were five.
You push the thought away as Jungkook’s mouth envelops yours. Jaehyun couldn’t love you, Yuta was just full of shit.
“You’re late.”
You narrow your eyes at Mingyu, who brushes off the time. He promised to meet up with you yesterday to finish your project for 104 and give you a quick lunch time fuck. You’re a little disheartened to see he’s tugged Doyoung and Jaehyun along.
“Don’t be so upset, frowning doesn’t look good on you,” Mingyu teases, sliding in the chair across from you. Doyoung sits next to him, and Jaehyun awkwardly takes the spot next to you. “We were just playing a little basketball outside. The time slipped my mind.”
“Well, I guess it slips my mind that I’m supposed to fuck you before your next class.”
Doyoung laughs and seizes the opportunity. “I, on the other hand, never promised anything and my schedule is conveniently free for the whole day.” He winks at you, his gums showing brightly as he smiles.
You smirk when Mingyu elbows him in the side. Jaehyun is oddly quiet and you turn to face him while Mingyu hisses at Doyoung.
“I saw you and Soojin getting it on last weekend. How was it?”
He smiles tightly. “Good, as always. Jungkook per usual?”
You nod. “The little gym rat won’t stop exercising. He was talking to me about his routine all night. I almost just got myself off instead.”
Something flickers in Jaehyun’s gaze, and it’s gone so quickly that you might’ve missed it.
“I can’t imagine why that would be preferred, especially when you have most of the male population lining up to get a taste of you.”
There’s a hidden implication in his words, and you take the chance.
“Are you part of that male population?”
He smirks at your question. Before he has a chance to answer, Mingyu’s voice fills your ears again.
“Anyways, my dorm is free and I can afford to miss my next class. Wanna head up? Promise I’ll go down on you as an apology.”
You scoff at Mingyu’s half-assed proposal, and stand to leave. “I’ll pass. Get a watch next time if you want your dick wet. I’m assuming you’re going to finish most of our project since I was waiting here for over a hour.”
Mingyu frowns. “But-“
“But?” You say, raising an eyebrow.
His shoulders slump. “Fine. I’ll finish the damn project.”
You lean over to pinch his cheeks. “Good Mingyu. I’ll see all of you at Minghao’s birthday bash.”
You depart without another word, ignoring the burn of Jaehyun’s stare. When you arrive back to your apartment, Minghao is organizing his wine cabinet while Sicheng talks to Tzuyu at the kitchen counter. You sigh and throw your bag across the island.
“Boys are dumb.”
Tzuyu laughs. “Did Mingyu forget what time it is again?”
“As always,” you confirm, searching for anything consumable in your fridge. As expected, no one’s gone grocery shopping in a week. Guess you’ll have to raid Wonwoo’s apartment tonight.
Sicheng huffs. “Good. I don’t need you getting any more Mingyu germs before Minghao’s party tomorrow.”
“And what does Hao’s party have anything to do with me getting laid?” Sicheng rolls his eyes at your question, and you smile sweetly at him. You decide to favor the leftover pieces of ham sitting at the back of the fridge. “Tzuyu, back me up here. Didn’t you have a good time with Jaehyun two weeks ago?”
Tzuyu’s cheeks flush as she recalls what you’re referring to. At Jungwoo’s party, she and Jaehyun were practically fucking each other in the middle of the living room.
“I guess. He was weird about some things.”
You frown, removing the lid off of the container and shoving a piece of ham in your mouth. “Like what?”
She looks embarrassed to be talking about such intimate things in front of Sicheng, but your roommate is unbothered. He’s heard enough of your escapades to be unfazed by any mentions of sex.
“He didn’t want to look at me when we did it. He told me I had to face the pillow or else he couldn’t cum that way.”
You shrug. “So he likes it from behind. Nothing too weird about that. Which way do you prefer, Sicheng?”
He glares at you. “None of your business.”
You giggle at how cute he is before Tzuyu continues. “I mean, it wasn’t just that. He didn’t really like it when I made noises. I had to be as quiet as possible.”
“Ugh, that’s fucked. Guys can grunt in the nastiest ways possible but they hate it when we make an ounce of noise. I hope you’re not that way, Sicheng.”
His glare burns. “None. Of. Your. Business.”
“Yeah, it was weird. He’s really good in bed though.”
You chuckle. “I would hope so. Anyways, who’s on the guest list for tomorrow night?”
Sicheng sighs, and you wonder if he thinks about moving out and living with a less horny roommate.
“Basically anyone you’ve fucked before since you’ve slept with all of Hao’s friends.”
You frown. “That’s not fun. I like someone new once in a while.”
“No funny business at Minghao’s party, I mean it. We can’t be cutting his cake while you’re getting railed in your room.”
You boop his nose. “No promises.”
Sicheng’s done this on purpose.
All of the men at Minghao’s party have flocked away from you, like Sicheng sent them all a mass text before the party started or something. You tried to slide up to Mingyu but then he was quickly taking the offer to do body shots with someone else. It’s as if you would bite all their dicks off with the way they’re running from you.
It’s the middle of the party when you grow tired of hearing Jieqiong’s banter with Jun.
You step out of the apartment for a few minutes and head up to the roof, arms wrapping around yourself to shield from the cold. You know you should’ve went to Wonwoo yesterday, especially since Sicheng has apparently made it a no fuck zone for tonight.
You jump when you feel a jacket moving over your shoulders. You’re even more startled to see Jaehyun next to you.
“Oh, hey. When did you get here?”
He smiles, and it hurts your eyes a little by how pretty he is.
“About a hour ago. I’m not surprised you didn’t notice, considering I could feel your rage from five feet away.”
You laugh dryly. “Did Sicheng send you a text too?”
“No, but Mingyu told me about it. I assume he only sent it to the guys you’ve slept with before.”
You nod. “Yeah, probably. I’m off limits to all males tonight.”
The two of you stand together in silence, gazing out at the view of your city. You’ve never felt an urge to get an answer from Jaehyun before about Yuta’s rumor, but now that he’s here, it’s all you can think about.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about the rumor Yuta spread around in freshman year?”
His back stiffens. The seconds pass in a deafening thump, and you’re starting to feel like you shouldn’t have brought it up.
He finally sighs. “How long have we known each other?”
You blink. Did he really have to respond to a question with another question?
You think back to when you first met Jaehyun and Mingyu. You were only five then, and you screamed in the middle of the classroom because Mingyu had spilled paint all over the front of your shirt. You remember Jaehyun handing you a wipe to clean yourself up, ears bright red.
You grin at the memory. “Since I found out Mingyu was the clumsiest kid on earth.”
He chuckles. “You never really saw it, did you?”
“Saw what?”
You’re even more confused by Jaehyun’s vague ass answers. He averts his gaze from you, and you suddenly feel a lot colder on this rooftop.
“How much I liked you.”
The statement causes you to freeze. So Yuta was right - Jung Jaehyun has loved you since you were five. Still, it doesn’t make any sense. You’ve been fucking Mingyu since high school and Jaehyun never seemed bothered by it, considering he and Mingyu were still best friends. In fact, you’ve been in bed with most of his friend group and he’s never said a word about it. His friends never even mention his liking for you, so you have to assume that they don’t know of it either.
As if he could sense your rampant thoughts running wild, he squashes them.
“I thought you loved Mingyu. I thought that when the two of you first started sleeping together, it would develop into something more. It’s why I never said anything to him. He knew, but I’m sure he thought I didn’t mind.”
You’re baffled. You don’t even know how to respond to this newfound information. Maybe you should’ve stayed downstairs at the party.
“Mingyu is an asshole,” you finally conclude. Jaehyun’s shoulders relax when you speak. “And so am I. I swear, I didn’t know, Jaehyun. I would’ve-“
“You would’ve stopped seeing Mingyu? And Jungkook? And Doyoung, and Wonwoo, and-“
“Okay, okay,” you raise a hand up to stop him before glaring. “You’re not entirely innocent either. I’m friends with most of the girls you’ve slept with too.”
His eyes darken. “And have you asked them what it’s like to be with me? How I have to turn them over and imagine it’s you before I can get hard? How I have to keep them quiet because their moans are too loud or simply because it doesn’t sound like you?” How-“
“Jaehyun,” you whisper, feeling like the wind has gotten knocked out of your chest. You’re also trying to ignore the wetness that’s pooled in your underwear. “Are you saying-“
“I’m saying that I’ve been running circles around you since we were five and you’ve never noticed. I’ve had to hear countless nights of Mingyu and Jungkook talking about how sweet your pussy is when they slide into you. How pretty you are when you’re stuffing their cocks far down your throat. How you let them take you anywhere, any time, because you enjoy it as much as they do.”
You swallow. He’s inches away from you now, hands dancing around your waist carefully. You quickly check the time.
One hour before Minghao cuts his cake. That should be enough.
You grab the fabric of Jaehyun’s shirt, pulling him to you as his lips crash into yours. He grunts, gripping your sides and pressing you against the railing. Your eyes glance down briefly to see how high up you two are.
“Drop me and I’ll kill you.”
He laughs, chasing you again and quickly moving to undress you. You ignore the goosebumps rising on your arms when Jaehyun nips at your neck, fingers dipping into your panties. “So pretty,” he murmurs, licking a stripe across your collarbones. You moan when he slides a finger into your heat. “That’s it, baby. Sound so fucking good.”
He slips another finger in, basking in the glory of your moans. “We have to hurry,” you mumble breathily. “Sicheng will come looking if he knows I’m gone for too long. It’s like he can sense when I’m fucking someone.”
Jaehyun laughs, moving back up to kiss you. “He can watch if he wants to then.”
“I wanna-“ you gasp when he curls his fingers. “I wanna suck you off.”
“Fuck,” he hisses. He’s fingering you faster now, and you can hear the squelch of your wetness fill the air. You gasp, desperately holding onto his forearm. “I’ll fuck your mouth next time, I promise. I need to see you cum now.”
You unravel in no time, moaning loudly as you fall apart on Jaehyun’s fingers. He coaxes you through your orgasm, murmuring praises in your ear. You whimper when he pulls away from you, licking up the remaining essence on his fingers.
“Jaehyun,” you say frantically, pawing at him. “I need you inside me.”
You turn over so that your back is facing him, and you think he’s about to slide your underwear down but instead, he swivels you around.
“Need to see you,” he whispers. “Jump.”
You do as he says, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing him with much more fervor. You moan when his hands grip your sides roughly, pressing you against the concrete. You sit on the ledge of the rooftop, trying to ignore the genuine fear of falling.
He’s quickly shoving his jeans down his thighs and you whimper.
“Hurry, Jae.”
“Fuck, baby. I’m here, I’m right here,” he hisses, pulling out his cock and giving it a few strokes. Your eyes widen at the size — he was surely bigger and thicker than Mingyu or Jungkook. He chuckles at your stare, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Bigger than what you normally have?”
You narrow your eyes. “Don’t tell me you idiots had a dick measuring contest.”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
Then, he’s pushing your panties to the side and sliding into you. You gasp, his fingers roughly gripping you in place to make sure you don’t fall. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, thrusting rapidly as soon as he feels you.
“Good little slut,” he grunts. “So pretty and pliant for me. Is my cock too big for you to take, baby?”
“You’re gonna fucking,” you pant, whining when his cock hits you deeper. “You’re gonna fucking split me in half, asshole.”
He grins mischievously. “That’s the goal.”
You’re so lost in the feeling of him that the both of you fail to hear the door to the rooftop open. You’re startled when Sicheng’s voice booms in the air.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! We haven’t even cut the cake yet!”
“Sicheng, I-“ you shamelessly whimper when Jaehyun hits your sweet spot, not slowing down in the slightest despite Sicheng watching. “W-We’ll be d-down before Hao c-cuts the cake.”
“Horny assholes,” you hear your roommate mutter before the door to the rooftop is closing again.
Jaehyun chortles. “He should’ve sent that text to me too if he was so concerned.”
“Fuck him,” you groan. “And fuck me harder.”
He listens to your command, pushing into you so deep that you almost fall off the ledge. You scream as your upper body dangles off the rooftop, but you can hear Jaehyun’s giggle. Your fear is overtaken by arousal when you realize his cock is hitting you deeper in this position.
“Cum, cum,” you whisper. “I’m cumming.”
He groans when you tighten around him, convulsing around his cock. When you recover, he’s hoisting you back up, bringing your chest to his as he carries you. You have no idea where he’s going, but with every step, his cock slides deeper into your soaking cunt.
The door to the rooftop is opening again and you realize you’re in the stairwell.
“Get down, hands on the railing.”
You shakily follow his command, ignoring the wobble of your legs as you grip the metal bars. He’s pushing into you again before you can take a breath.
“I-I thought you needed to see me,” you say, your back turned to him.
“You’re right.”
Then, he’s pushing you against the wall with force and abusing your pussy. You practically scream, clawing at his back while he pounds you into the wall.
“Do you want to know exactly what Yuta heard three years ago?” He groans against your neck. You can barely form coherent sentences, and you’re pretty sure you had another orgasm that you haven’t even revived from. “He heard me desperately fucking my cock into my hand, whimpering your name. All I could imagine that day was the little short dress you wore to Yugyeom’s party, and how Jungkook’s hands were all over you as soon as you stepped through the door. I fucking came so hard that I had to wash my sheets before Mingyu came back to the dorm.”
“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” you whisper frantically. You’re unraveling again — cumming around his cock while he fucks you hard. “Cum with me. Inside, cum inside. Please, please.”
He grunts lowly. “Yeah? You want my cum? What about the rest of them — how many of them have spilled inside you?”
“I’ll keep it in,” you promise him, just wanting your hole to be filled. “I’ll walk around Hao’s party with your cum dripping down my thighs. How does that sound?”
And he’s groaning, giving one final thrust before he empties inside of you. You gasp at how much cum he has to give you, some of it spilling down your lips and onto the floor.
The both of you are panting lowly, trying to recover from your orgasms. You faintly hear a chorus of people singing Happy Birthday two floors down.
“Fuck, Sicheng’s gonna kill us.”
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beels-burger-babe · 3 years
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Beelzebub's Very Bad No Good Day
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***So this is the new format in which I'll be answering requests. In my experience, actual posts get spread further than asks do, so this will hopefully help with that. ANYWAY, I am crazy excited about this request as a major Beel simp and YES I will proudly do this request! Thank you @sinnoman for blessing me with it. -B*** Summary: Beel doesn't get anything to eat one day, and it doesn't go well for anybody.
From the moment Beelzebub woke up, he knew that today was going to be a terrible day. For starters, he had apparently raided the fridge in his sleep the night before, so there was not a crumb left in the house for anyone to make breakfast with. Most of the others had gone and grabbed something from Hell's Kitchen on their way to class, but poor Beel had slept through his alarm due to the food coma his nighttime snack had put him in and had to rush to RAD. The entire school was talking about the monster that they believed had awoken beneath the school. Teachers were on edge ready to evacuate the premises for the earthquake they believed to be happening. Beel avoided eye contact, blushing as his empty stomach continued to rumble and roar throughout the day. He ended up eating a few pencils just to get it to quiet down and even that didn't have much effect. The Avatar of Gluttony nearly cried tears of relief when the lunch bell rang. But it seemed that fate was not his friend that day. He was going to order a gargantuan-sized Little Devil mango slushy, a side of Hellfire curry rice, fried shadow bat, and 108 seed salad and the main course of at least twenty shadow hog burgers with three servings of caramel shadow tart for dessert. Beel was drooling at just the thought of it. He was almost at the ordering station when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Beel growled and turned around, baring his teeth at whoever dared to disturb him.
Belphegor narrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Woah. Beel, relax. It's just me. We've got a student council meeting, and Lucifer has threatened to take away supper from whoever skips out." Beelzebub scoffed as the air around him darkened at the mention of someone taking food away from him. "I'd like to see him try." Belphie raised an eyebrow at his twin's uncharacteristically grumpy behaviour. "Are you alright, Beel?" As though to answer his question, Beel's stomach let out another loud roar, causing several students to flinch and Beel to scowl in frustration. "I'm hungry." Belphie's frown deepened. Beel was always hungry, but he didn't usually let it get to him like this. The younger twin rifled through his own bag before pulling out an obviously full paper bag. "You can have my lunch if you want. I ate a little bit of it during class and swiped a bagel from Mammon during the first period, so I'm not all that-" Before he could finish Beel ripped the bag out of Belphie's hands and devoured it, bag and all. Belphie blinked at his now empty hand and chuckled as Beel chewed. "Man, you must be starving huh?"
Beelzebub merely grunted and continued to chew before swallowing down the small meal. He glanced back at the lineup in the cafeteria and put a hand on his stomach as he thought about the lunch he should be enjoying. Belphie nudged him. "Come on, big guy. We got to get to that meeting. The sooner we get it over with, the more likely it is that we'll end early and you might be able to grab something before class starts again." Only the meeting was not short and quick like Belphie had said it might be. Diavolo wanted everyone to come up with an idea for a school fundraiser, and Lucifer was arguing with Asmodeus on what was and was not appropriate. To make matters worse, you were unable to attend as, according to Mammon, your charms professor had asked you to stay behind afterwards to discuss your progress in the class. The bickering on top of the lack of food in his stomach was giving Beel a migraine and the longer he sat there, the more irritable he had become. Eventually, it became too much and he snapped. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, flipping the table as he stood. "No one cares about the stupid fundraiser anyway and you're just wasting all of our time arguing over something that will inevitably fall apart and cause an even bigger mess, just like it always does!" "Beelzebub! Watch your tone in front of-" "Shut it, Lucifer!" his brother's gaped at him in shock as he snarled at their elder. "I am sick and tired of you pushing us all around and punishing us when the slightest thing goes wrong just because you-" Beel poked Lucifer's chest hard enough to make him take a step back, "won't take responsibility for your own mistakes!" "Oh shit," Mammon whispered under his breath, as Lucifer's eyes narrowed and his body tensed in defence. The second-born quickly squeezed his way between the two of them and spread his arms to try and create some distance. "Okay! Tensions are high. People are upset. But this is not the place to brawl it out." he glanced over at Lucifer who looked like he was a second away from stringing him up to the ceiling. "Might I remind ya Lord Diavolo is still in the room?" Lucifer looked over at Diavolo, who appeared to be both hurt and concerned by Beelzebub's words, before sighing and fixing his composure. He gave Beel a hard look. "Obviously something is upsetting you, but we can discuss this at home. For the time being, I recommend you work on calming yourself and clearing your head." Beel just growled at him before stomping out of the student council room. He had been about to re-enter the cafeteria again when the bell rang signalling the end of lunch hour. Beelzebub felt his eye twitch before his demon form burst into existence. He let out a deafening scream as he grabbed a table and threw it across the room (students still seated on it, included). Students were yelling and scrambling like mice as the large demon rampaged through the halls. He tore the locked grate off of the serving station and grabbed the nearest server by the scruff of the collar, causing them to squeak in fear. "I'm hungry," Beel rumbled lowly as the demon trembled in his hands. "Get me something to eat now or I will not hesitate to eat you." "R-R-Right away, Beelzeb-b-bub." Beel carelessly dropped the demon, who scattered off to gather as much food as they could. He began pacing like a caged animal. Having been alerted by all the noise, his brothers and Diavolo rushed into the nearly destroyed cafeteria. Diavolo's jaw dropped. "Beelzebub, what's the meaning of all this?" Beel's famished brain didn't acknowledge Diavolo as an authority at the moment. Instead, he was yet another person trying to keep him from eating. "I need food. NOW!" Lucifer's eyes widened in realization as he whispered something to Diavolo. The prince nodded and took a step back. "I'm sure the cooks are doing all they can to get you food right away. But I need you to control yourself before I am forced to take action." Satan had his phone out and was urgently texting someone, as Belphie moved forward.
"You'll get your food shortly Beel. You just need to wai-" "I don't want to wait!!" There was a part of Beelzebub's brain that was aware he was acting like a child. But his stomach physically hurt from how empty it was. He was tired. He was starving. He didn't have the patience for pleasantries. "I've barely eaten anything all day, and people keep staring and talking about me because my stomach just will not stop growling and I'm so hungry that I can barely think straight! I hate it! But I know it won't go away unless I eat, so I NEED TO EAT!" The brothers looked at Beel in shock. They knew that he ate a lot, but they always passed it off as just another quirk that made him Beel. They didn't know it bothered him like this. They thought back on all the instances where Beel had stated that he was hungry out of nowhere, always with a distressed look on his face. Every single time they had brushed him off. Before any of them could respond, you casually walked into the war zone that was the cafeteria. "Alright Satan, what's so urgent that you needed me so badly?" The room fell quiet as everyone's attention snapped over to you and you took in the situation. It didn't take long for you to connect the dots.
You immediately began to rush over to Beelzebub; Mammon stepped forward to stop you. "Woah, MC! I don't think that's a good idea right now!"
You ignored him and continued to make your way to Beel. Seeing you, the small human that you were, made Beel realize just how reckless he had been acting. He held out his hands to stop you and took a step away. "You should listen to Mammon, MC. I-I haven't eaten all day and I-" "You haven't eaten all day?! Oh god, this is worst than I thought." Beel watched as you slid the oversized backpack that he had seen you carry around RAD with you every day off your back and begin to dump out the contents. In a second, dozens of bags of chips, candy, fruits, and other snacks spilled across the floor in front of the two of you. Beel didn't waste a single moment. He instantly began consuming the snacks, causing you to smile happily. "Wha-What?! MC?! Why the hell do you have that much food on ya?!" Mammon sputtered as he cautiously began to approach you. You shrugged. "Beel gets upset when he's hungry, and I don't like it when he's upset. So I stocked up on some of his favourite snacks a while back and always keep them on me just in case," Beel paused his eating to look up at you in awe, "He can't help that he's always hungry. It's not like he asked to be the Avatar of Gluttony." Suddenly there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Lucifer, Levi, and Mammon called out your name as Beel pulled you tightly against his chest. You just grinned and hugged the friendly giant back. "Thank you," he whispered softly into your hair, his arms tightening around you just a little more. "There's nothing to thank me for." As Beel finally began to calm down, the cooks came out with platters of food and shakily laid them out around you and Beel before taking cover back into the kitchen. Seeing that the threat had passed, the other brothers began to approach as well. "You know Beel, I didn't know you had that much pent-up anger inside of you. It was terrifying!" Asmodeus chirped as he plopped down beside the two of you.
"Yeah! You were just like the antagonist in My Boyfriend Turned Into a Cannabilistic Rage Monster, And Now I Have to Stop Him From Devouring The Whole City!!!" Levi began to ramble about specific scenes from the show that matched perfectly with Beel's rampage, causing Beel to blush as he munched on a burger. Belphie sighed and elbowed Beel as he took his seat at his side. "We'll have to make sure that MC's always around you. Just in case you know?" he smiled softly, before looking at his twin with a more serious expression. "You should've told me about all that stuff you said earlier. I had no idea you felt that away about your appetite." Beel looked away uncomfortably as he took another bite of his food and avoided the question. You snuggled closer to him, to provide him with some comfort. Satan tapped his chin as he watched the group. "I'm sure we could talk with Barbatos and come up with some sort of high-protein shake or bar that would better satisfy you. That way you wouldn't have to eat as much." Lucifer glanced over at Diavolo, silently asking if it was a possibility. The prince smiled warmly. "I'll have Barabatos begin working on something right away." Forgetting all about class and the anger that had previously consumed him, Beel looked around at his family. A warm feeling blossomed in his stomach as he felt content with the rare care and affection that they were openly showing. Maybe it had something to do with the thirty burgers he had already ate, but for just a second, Beel didn't feel so hungry anymore. ***Boy that got a little angsty there for a second, but I hope this was to your liking @sinnoman! I definitely enjoyed writing this one, and I think it made me fall in love with my boy Beel even more 🥰*** TAGLIST: @vampwiire @bunna-does-stuff
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plant-flwrs · 4 years
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hi love, it's me again! i just can't get enough of your writing... i'm sorry to be asking for another fic, i guess i just can't help myself. lately i've been obsessed with the fake dating thing, so i was wondering if you could write a fred x reader (basically same reader as my last request, gryffindor, same year as ron) with that? like, maybe george knows they fancy each other and makes a bet with him so they start fake datig but realise they're in love with each other? aaa thank you so much, ly
bets off // fred weasley 
masterlist!
a/n: i used the same pronouns from the last request, hope you don’t mind!! i apreciate u sm ur always so active w my fics ily <3333 this is the first thing i’ve written in a while that i’m actually proud of so i hope u guys like it :D
summary: Fred makes a bet with George that entails fake dating you for at least a month. He never expected to fall in love with you. 
(5k)
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Competition was healthy. At least, that’s what Fred told himself as he looked at George’s outstretched hand, a cocky smile etching the boy’s lips. 
“Two weeks?” Fred asked, looking suspiciously at George.
“Two. Weeks.” George answered definitively, smirking at his brother. 
Fred considered this in his head. Two weeks to get you, someone who had never previously shown any romantic interest in him, to date him for at least a month. He doubted it would be hard, for he had never had any trouble getting girls to swoon for him in the past. A few winks and charming sentiments and you would be putty in his hand. With this air of confidence, he shook George’s hand.
“You idiot!” Lee, who had previously been silently watching the exchange, called from across the table, a baffled smile on his face.
George laughed, leaning back in his chair and looking at Fred like he agreed with Lee.
“What?” Fred asked, the overly confident look still littering his features.
“You can’t win with this one,” Lee explained, shaking his head, “you either piss off Ron when this goes right, you piss of Ron when this goes wrong, you come out the git for breaking a girls heart, or you come out the embarrassed git who was rejected by your kid brother’s best friend.”
“Hey,” Fred said, faking offence, “I never agreed to ask out Harry.”
George and Lee rolled their eyes, hiding smiles as they continued their homework.
Fred was not deterred by Lee’s warnings, for he had a plan to avoid all of that. He was simply going to tell you the truth.
He found you on your way to the green house, pulling you away from a Slytherin girl you were walking with.
“He just stared at her? Like he didn’t eve-” you felt an unexpected tugging, “Ah!”
You squealed, feeling your feet stumble under you for a moment as you gathered your wits again. You looked down at the hand pulling you, following it up to the face. It was Fred, which was odd, because you two were not known for pulling at each other in hallways.
“You’re going to miss Herbology!” your friend called out to you, a worried expression on her face.
“I’ll meet you there, save me a seat!” you called back to her, turning away and following Fred as he still dragged you.
“Fred? What are you doing?” you asked him, making no effort to move from his strong grip.
“Got to talk to you,” he said airily, barely looking back at you as he pulled you down an empty corridor. 
He let go of your arm, smiling down at you as you waited for him to speak. He didn’t take the hint, just looking at you.
“What did you want?” you glanced at your watch, seeing you only had a few minutes before Professor Sprout would start class.
“I have a proposition for you,” Fred drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as per usual, “what do ya say?”
You squinted your eyes at him, frowning, “I have to hear the proposition first.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, thats how propositions work.”
“I hadn’t realized,” he replied sarcastically, dropping his cool demeanor and letting some desperation seep into his voice.
“What do you want?” you repeated, slightly more annoyed.
“I may have made a bet that heavily relies on your willingness to do me a huge favor,” he said, a hopeful smile coming to his face.
“Oh god, Fred, what did you do?”
“George may have implied that I was in a dry spell when it came to girls,” he said, smirking, “and obviously that’s just not true. So, he suggested a bet to see if I still had my skills-”
“Your skills?”
“-yes my skills, would you listen?”
Fred leaned closer to you, his eyebrows raising as you rolled your eyes.
“Back to what I was saying,” he drew in a breath, dragging out this entire conversation, “George suggested a bet to see if I could still charm the ladies,” he wiggled his eyebrows and you quirked one of yours.
“Long story short-”
You interrupted again, “That was the short version of that story? Fred can’t we do this later, I’ve got class in,” you glanced at your watch. “two minutes.”
“No! Give me a second,” he ran a hand through his hair, putting his strong hands on your shoulders to keep you in place, “I made a bet with George that I could get you to fall in love with me in two weeks and date you for a month!”
You looked up at the boy, thinking he had gone off the end. He had to, either that or he was messing with you. Or maybe he had been slipped a potion of some sort.
“Fred,” you started, your kind tone giving Fred the impression you would agree to the plan, “you just waisted the very limited break I have between classes, successfully pulling me away from a very entertaining story about Snape, and probably making me late for Herbology.”
Fred groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance.
“I’m serious!” 
You pulled against Fred’s grip, but he kept you in place. His face lit up, obviously coming up with what he thought would be a great plan. He released you briefly, digging his hands in his bag and moving crumpled papers around. He pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, brandishing it like it was a diamond. 
“This, my love, is going to get you out of Herbology this class period,” he said, unfolding the paper.
He revealed a blank piece of paper with tiny sparkles floating on the page. As he held it for a second longer, words began to form on the paper, writing something.
‘Professor Sprout,
Please excuse Y/n from Herbology this period, she came to me with a pain in her stomach and I gave her a potion to fix it. She stayed in the infirmary during the period.
-Poppy’
You had heard about these before, enchanted notes that were written in authentic handwriting and enchanted the reader to believe it, no matter what they said. Perfect for forging notes from teachers. 
You stared at the paper in awe, grabbing it from Fred’s loose grasp.
“Yeah, you’re welcome. That’s the last one I have,” he said, feeling a bit remorseful having to give it up. He had been planning to use it to get out of Ancient Runes tomorrow. 
You folded the paper again, putting it neatly in your bag and looking back at Fred.
“Alright, let’s go,” you sighed, allowing him to lead you to the great hall, through the courtyard, and out to the Quidditch Pitch where no teachers would be. 
You sat in the stands, overlooking the empty and wet field,
“You want me to date you for two weeks?” you asked, sounding reluctant.
“No,” Fred said, sounding annoyed, “I want to fake date you for a month, but we won’t start until two weeks from now.”
You squinted, looking out at the stands on the other side of the field. You were thinking about this, finding the cons to outweigh the pros.
“What’s in it for me?” you paused, hearing Fred’s groan from beside you, “I mean, this could ruin my friendship with Ron, I get the embarrassing reputation when you fake dump me in a month, I don’t see how this is benefiting me.”
“Ron won’t care, I promise you,” Fred said acting as if this was obvious, “he lets Harry ogle Ginny all the time. And as for our fake dumping, that can be totally on your terms. I just need to win the bet with George.”
“What do you get if you win?”
Fred had hoped you weren’t going to ask that, but he was realizing you were smarter than he thought.
“Three Galleons,” he lied, looking at your skeptical face in the corner of his eye, “fine, six Galleons.”
You looked expectantly at him, waiting for his offer.
“I’ll split it with you,” he finally gave in.
He was a little upset at having to share his future winnings, but once you agreed to the bet and squealed excitedly at the possibility of some Galleons, a smile spread on his face.
Fred began laying the groundwork the next day. He made sure to send you flirtatious smiles when George was looking, waving to you in the halls, and talking to you in the common room.
You, Hermione, and Ron sat at a table in the corner, the three of you poured over a chess match. Ron was successfully beating Hermione, watching her as she tried to remember the rules he had taught her over and over. 
“You can’t do that,” he said impatiently as Hermione tried to move a pawn backwards. His hand reached out and returned the piece back to where it was, and Hermione groaned.
You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes and turning your head up towards the ceiling. 
“Hello,” Fred purred from above you, looking down at you.
You snapped your eyes open, not entirely used to Fred’s flirting yet. It took you by surprise most days, and he always managed to get you when you weren’t expecting it. You looked to Ron, gauging his reaction. His eyes stayed locked on Hermione’s frustrated face, arms crossed as he waited for her move.
“Hello,” you replied, turning your head to face Fred as he move to your side. 
He leaned against your chair, his hand supporting his weight as he wrapped it around the back of your chair. The top of his hip bumped into your shoulder, and you resisted the urge to lean away from him. It’s not that Fred Weasley was disgusting or anything, he certainly wasn’t, but he had a reputation. Fred wasn’t known to be faithful or respectful of the usual rules regarding relationships. He wasn’t tied down, and half the student body has seen him naked (or wanted to). You had gone through your phase of liking Fred, and that phase lasted longer than you’d like to admit. You refused to boost his ego, though, and felt determined to not let this fake dating get to your head. 
Ron was still busy with his chess match, now watching Hermione’s focused gaze turn into a nervous one as she became aware of Ron’s eyes on her. She bit her lip, tapping her fingers on the table.
Fred glanced down at you, quirking an eyebrow and nodding his head towards Ron. He was showing you that Ron wouldn’t care if you two dated, testing Ron’s limits.
Fred’s hand moved slowly from the back of your chair to your shoulder. His slender fingers pressed gently on your clothed arm, moving to brush a piece of hair from your neck. He twirled a piece of your hair in his fingers, raising an amused eyebrow at Ron’s lack of reaction.
“Merlin, Hermione! I’ve taught you 100 times!”
Hermione scoffed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.
“Ron!” she exclaimed back, offended.
“Look,” he moved his hand to one of her pieces. He whisked it across the board, then one of his pieces, and then one of Hermione’s, and then one of his own, “Check.”
“Maybe if you had patience and didn’t stare me down every time it was my turn-” Hermione started, glancing to you for support.
Her eyes widened when she saw the somewhat intimate position you were in with Fred, her sentence dropping. 
“If you didn’t take so long, I wouldn’t stare you down!” Ron huffed and pushed his chair back, standing suddenly.
He hadn’t even glanced at you and Fred, missing Hermione’s shocked expression.
“What are you doing?” she questioned Fred, sounding even more offended than when Ron was yelling at her a moment ago.
“What?” Fred replied nonchalantly, pushing his body away from yours and taking Ron’s seat.
He moved the chair closer to the table, purposefully brushing his knee against yours. You knew he was watching your face, so you kept a neutral expression.
“He was all over you,” Hermione whispered to you, as if Fred wasn’t right in front of her,
“So?” you asked, acting as if it wasn’t abnormal for Fred to ‘be all over you’.
You were internally cringing at the whole thing, at Fred’s forwardness, lying to Hermione, the whole situation.
“Something must be in the air today,” Hermione said to no one in particular as she stood from the table, “everyone’s lost their minds.”
She left you and Fred, leaving him with a smirk on his face.
“I think that went well,” Fred said, moving the pieces on the chess board around swiftly as he set it up for a new game.
You moved to Hermione’s seat so you were across from him, rolling your eyes. 
“This is ridiculous, Fred,” you said, and at the sound of your genuine annoyance his eyes were on your face.
The board in front of you was set anew, white closest to you. You let yourself sit in your frustration for a moment, looking down at the board and moving a pawn. Fred made no move to his own pieces, just staring at you from his side of the table.
“What d’you mean?” he said, watching your hand retreat from the board. 
“These public displays of affection- isn’t it a little ridiculous?” you said, locking your eyes on the game in front of you.
A look of hurt flashed across Fred’s face, not that you would have seen it, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. His hand lazily moved one of his pawns.
“I don’t think so, no,” he said, leaning back in his chair and still studying your face, “I think they’re quite effective.”
“They’re only effective because I’m playing along,” you moved another pawn, hoping Fred would take the bait so you could steal his pawn.
“Which I appreciate fully,” he said, leaning forward and moving his pawn exactly where you wanted him to.
You stole his piece, advancing on the board. He hadn’t even registered the game, frankly, only looking at you.
“I feel like-” you didn’t know what you felt. You hadn’t put it into words, but you knew you didn’t like it.
Fred, and older, charming, handsome boy, was showing you a new amount of attention. Fred, a boy you had a crush on almost the entire time you’ve known him, was sending you flirtatious winks in the hallways and being very affectionate. Fred, your best friend’s older brother, was trying to date you to win a bet.
“-nevermind,” you finished, realizing you could not say any of this aloud. 
Fred had a quizzical look on his face, watching you as you silently sat across from him. You met his eyes for the first time since he sat down, swallowing hard. You stared at each other for at least a minute, neither of you moving or breaking the contact. His eyes had an intensity in them that you had never seen before, but they were also gentle and kind. He looked soft, his face illuminated by the faint candle light and fireplace, casting a yellow hue over his skin. His hair was grown out and pushed off his forehead, falling easily on the sides of his face. He had taken his tie off, though still in his school uniform, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His mouth, usually in a resting smirk, was thin and straight, making him look rarely serious. 
You felt like it took ages, but you finally broke his stare and cast your eyes downward at the board. You looked back up at him, seeing his eyes unmoving from your face.
“Your move,” you said, raising an eyebrow. 
Fred’s eyes shot to the board, and he moved the first piece he saw. His mind was racing as he tried to collect his thoughts, all of which were about you. 
He had no idea what happened, but his heart was beating incredibly fast and his hands were sweating. Fred, a man who had never once done anything serious, was feeling very serious. He didn’t know what was going on inside his head, but all he knew was that he thought you were remarkably beautiful. You were perfect, really, and he could not wait for this game of chess to end so he could get the hell away from you. 
Fred had never been in any sort of serious relationship. He had never dated a girl for longer than a few weeks, usually doing something that offended them (that was often mentioning how hot another girl was, or, in the worst case, snogging said other girl). He didn’t care for anything long-term, anything serious, because he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone that interesting. You, however, made his hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s mind run blank.
He blinked at the board, realizing it was his turn again, and felt like giggling like a school girl. He shot his head up, looking around the common room and pretending to be in a hurry.
“Have you got the time?” he asked, watching as you looked down at your wrist- eyes flickering to your hand, which he realized he wanted nothing more than to hold in that moment- checking the time on your watch and telling him. He sprang from his chair, “I told George I’d meet him in a few, can we continue this later?”
He hadn’t even waited for an answer before he was running through the portrait hole, nearly knocking a few first years off their feet when he bumped into them.
Fred disappeared from the common room, leaving you with the chess board.
For the next few days, Fred’s flirting was non-existent. He wasn’t ignoring you, but the entire dynamic between you had shifted; something changed. He wasn’t painfully arrogant, seeming to take more effort in the way he treated you. There was no inappropriate flirting, no lustful winks. You wondered if the bet was still on.
You found out soon that it was. 
You and Hermione left the library fairly late into the afternoon, but neither of you minded the time that got away from you. You spent the day doing very little actual studying, talking and laughing instead. There was a very few amount of people who could tear Hermione away from her studies, and she didn’t often like to admit that you were one of them. 
“Are you going to tell me why Fred was so-” she broke off, shuddering in some sort of disgusted way that made you laugh “-touchy with you the other day?”
Hermione had been pressing a little bit every time she saw you about Fred, and you had been avoiding it every time. 
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. That was just Fred being Fred,” you insisted, rolling your eyes playfully. 
The guilt of lying to your friends left you a few days ago, instead you only felt overwhelming uneasiness as your schoolgirl crush for Fred resurfaced. You couldn’t help it; the hot older boy you had liked since your first year was suddenly putting himself in compromising situations with you. So, you couldn’t tell Hermione about Fred’ bet, because then you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself telling her about your genuine crush. 
“Really?” Hermione teased, bumping her shoulder into yours.
“Yes, really,” you insisted, turning the corner to the main staircase that was crowded with students wandering the castle on the weekend afternoon, “ I don’t get why your fixating on this, ‘Mione.”
Your words, however, fell on deaf ears. Her gaze was locked on something on the stairs beneath you both. You followed it, seeing the heavy stream of students starting to part. From your position, you couldn’t see much through the crowd, but soon the crowd thinned around you and you got closer.
Fred stood on the landing, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. You bit your lip, trying to hide the laugh bubbling in your chest. Such a grand gesture for a fake one-month relationship, this boy was determined to beat George and win those three Galleons. You felt Hermione clutching loosely to your arm, a dazed sort of look overcoming her features. You couldn’t help but laugh at this, prying yourself free from her grip and walking down the stairs to meet Fred.
He also looked sort of dazed, and with a quizzical expression you felt your face heat up under the stares of everyone in the stairwell. You came to the landing, looking up at Fred. His hand shook a little as he held the flowers, and he bit his lip harshly. 
“Want to go out with me?” he asked, a surprisingly earnest voice replacing his usual smug one. 
You glanced at your watch, moving to stand on your toes to reach him. You moved your mouth to his ear, speaking so only he could hear you, “You’re about a week early with this gesture, Freddie.”
He chuckled, and from being so close to him his chest bumped yours slightly. You fell to stand flat on your feet, still close to him. He looked down at you, holding the flowers between your chests. 
“I don’t like following schedules,” he said, grinning down at you.
You resisted the urge to wrap your arms around his shoulders and never let go, settling instead on a bashful smile. He handed you the flowers, the brown paper they were wrapped in feeling a little damp from how profusely his hands were nervously sweating.
When he made this bet with George, he had just planned on kissing you in some busy hallway to announce the start of your relationship, as he did with most of his relationships. Somehow, though, you felt more special. His stomach sank every time he thought about the limited and fake month he’d have to with you, but he forced his way through it. 
So he went to the field by Hagrid’s hut and picked the best flowers he could find, wrapping them in a brown paper and organizing them so they were perfect, because you were perfect. 
He looked down at you, watching you as you held the flowers up to your face and smelled them. Your eyes were light and filled with innocent excitement, giving him an enchanting smile that showed all your teeth; you looked incredibly and undeniably happy, and that made Fred happy. 
You had both nearly forgotten about the entire student body surrounding you both, watching the exchange. Fred, feeling unnerved by the vulnerability he had exhibited in such a large crowd, looked up and smiled smugly, wiggling his eyebrows. The entire staircase erupted in a somewhat jumbled mix of cheers and laughter, sending a deep red blush to your cheeks. Fred looked down at you, and in a moment of unfiltered happiness, brought his hands to your cheeks. He lifted your head from where you had ducked it to hide the blush, forcing you to look up at him with the embarrassed grin on your lips. Before he could think about what he was doing, his face was leaning closer to yours and his hands on your cheeks were pulling you closer to him. You barely had the time to register what was happening, only hearing the laughter and cheers around you get louder as Fred’s face was pressed against yours.
He was fast at first, passionate and quick as if he thought he only had a second before you pulled away. You couldn’t though, even though every bone in your body was telling you to. Your lasting feelings for Fred were telling you that this kiss was okay, that your friendship with Ron would take the backseat for a while as you let Fred press himself against you. Your thoughts were fading, being replaced with the hyper awareness of everywhere Fred was touching you. His lips slowed and his breathing became slower too. He let out a sigh through his nose, the air hitting your face and sending a brand new flush to your cheeks. His hands on your cheeks stopped pulling you towards him, now being a gentle and soft presence on your skin. His left hand was grazing your jaw, his calloused fingertips tickling the skin lightly. His right hand cupped your cheek firmly still, but his thumb rubbed against your cheekbone. You held the flowers in one hand, and it wasn’t until a few seconds into the kiss that you had even remembered you had hands. You rested your hand holding the flowers against his chest, tilting the bouquet so it didn’t hit Fred in the face. Your other hand snaked up his arm, clutching loosely at his strong forearm as it hung between your bodies. 
You were both at each other’s wills, you would do anything Fred and Fred vowed to himself that he would follow you to the ends of the Earth, if you asked him to. 
The spark moving through Fred’s body was nothing he had ever felt before. He didn’t feel it when he kissed Angelina Johnson, his first kiss, after winning a Quidditch match. He didn’t feel it when he drunkenly kissed Alicia Spinnet at a party. He didn’t feel anything close to this when he kissed Katie Bell in a game of truth or dare last year. You were completely new to Fred, and part of him already knew he wanted to spend every second with you from then on out.
You pulled away first, entirely and completely breathless. You looked up at Fred, mouth opening and closing like an out of water fish as you tried to find words to say in this moment. Fred just chuckled, bringing his hand on your cheek to graze his knuckles against your swollen lips. You closed your mouth, feeling okay with having nothing to say, and figuring it was better to not say anything anyways. 
The crowd registered in your brain, making you feel extremely embarrassed again. You shoved your face into Fred’s chest, hiding the flush all over your face.
“Alright! Shows over, you perverts,” Fred called out, smiling widely at the group.
You heard the shuffling of feet begin around you, the traffic beginning once again. A few wolf whistles reached your ears, and you didn’t remove yourself from Fred’s chest until you were sure everyone had moved on. 
Fred’s large hand rested on the back of your head, soothing down your hair. You found it oddly intimate, and you knew letting all of this happen was only setting yourself up for hurt when this bet was inevitably over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Pulling away finally, your flowers clutched at your side, you took a deep breath. You were bringing your gaze to look up at Fred, but a group of redheads standing behind him caught your eyes and made them widen.
“I am so telling mum you have a girlfriend!” Ginny squealed, her voice easily heard in the now empty stairwell.
Fred turned to face his family, seeing Ginny, Ron, George, Hermione, and Harry looking at him as if he’s sprouted five new limbs.
Ron elbowed Ginny, sending her a wide-eyed look, “my bestfriend is not his girlfriend!” Ron said confidently, then turning to Fred with a threatening look, “My bestfriend is not your girlfriend.”
Fred smiled nervously, “I’m not dating Harry, Ron,” he attempted to joke, only earning a laugh from George and an embarrassed look from Harry. 
You peaked from behind Fred, meeting the group. You smiled at them sheepishly, meeting Hermione’s baffled eyes.
“I knew it!” she called, causing the entire group to turn their heads to look at her, “I knew you fancied her.”
Hermione looked quite proud of herself, but Ron looked fuming. Harry had sort of a ‘I-saw-this-coming’ look on his face.
“Guys,” you said, stepping towards them, “Ron.”
You gave Ron a pleading look, prepared to embarrass yourself and set the whole thing straight, even prepared to lose 3 Galleons. Suddenly, Hermione stepped between you and Ron.
“Ronald,” she said sternly, snapping Ron out from his angry mood briefly, “I hope you are not about to prevent a lovely relationship just because you have no emotional intelligence or maturity regarding these subjects.”
Your eyes widened from behind Hermione, casting a shocked glance to Fred. George and Ginny stifled their laughter, saving an embarrassed Ron some of his pride after being scolded by Hermione. 
“But he’s my brother!” he whined, his anger leaving him and instead being replaced by some sort of tame disgust.
You couldn’t take it, every part of you wanted to tell them it was a bet, the galleons be damned. You looked to Fred with a warning look, only to see him digging in his pockets.
“George,” he called out, removing his hand from his pocket and clutching something, “catch.”
Fred tossed six coins at George, and George caught them with surprise.
“Bets off,” Fred said, looking painfully serious. 
You felt your breath hitch in your throat, an immense feeling of guilt wash over you. You had cost Fred six galleons, even after the work he had put in. He had kissed you for the sake of it, and you couldn’t go one month. 
“Fred,” you stuttered, looking at him with guilt
His mouth broke into a grin, however, and he took a few steps towards you. George watched Fred’s movements, and began pulling away the group. Ron, still standing there with a confused look on his face, was tugged away by the back of his collar.
“I don’t want to fake date you,” he whispered to you once he was close enough, tucking his hands in his pockets.
“Well, that seems like a lot of work for nothing, then-” you started, only for his lips to fall onto yours and silence you.
You couldn’t help it, again, as you let yourself melt into him. He pulled away all too soon however, resting his forehead on yours as he looked into your eyes. 
“I want to date you for real,” he said, biting his lip nervously, “not as a bet.”
Your eyes widened, and once again you could not think of anything to say. You opened and closed your mouth, searching for the words, but gave up. You gave a relieved sigh, hearing the words you had dreamed of hearing since you were 12, and kissed Fred Weasley. 
1K notes · View notes
luxekook · 5 years
Text
intimidation | myg
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⇥ pairing: yoongi x reader
⇥ genre: fluff, a lil touch of smut, college AU
⇥ summary: in which you think Yoongi is intimidating bc of his dark clothing and his quiet ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude… but then someone makes him laugh and you watch as his face lights up in the cutest gummy smile complete with shining eyes and blushing cheeks and BOOM you’re whipped for that boy
⇥ word count: 2.3k
⇥ warnings: dirty talk, light smut, cursing
⇥ sequel: intensity
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Thursday, September 28th – 11:16am
Min Yoongi intimidated the living hell out of you.
While the boy in question was not all that tall or all that muscular, there was admittedly something in his aura that just screamed ‘big dick energy’... Not that you’d ever get the chance to confirm that hypothesis. You weren’t even sure you wanted to.
Shoulders slumping, you shifted your peripheral gaze off of Yoongi and back onto your professor as she droned on about evolution. Your shared Introduction to Biology class inspired an odd mix of dread and excitement every Tuesday/Thursday morning as a consequence of Min Yoongi’s sheer presence.
Your mind drifted back to the first class of the semester about a month ago...
Arriving in the lecture hall indicated on your class schedule, you took a seat in the middle of the room. You were spoiled for choice given that you had arrived fifteen minutes early for lecture. The first day of classes was always stressful for you, given your tendency to get lost within the many buildings on campus as well as your hatred for lateness.
As the room filled with more and more students, you shuffled through your backpack. “Where the hell is it?” you muttered, searching for your planner where you would jot down important notes.
Finally, you spotted it wedged in between two of your folders. Grasping it in triumph, you tugged it out of your backpack and placed it on your desk. Glancing back up, you found the coldest pair of brown eyes staring back at you.
“Is anyone sitting there?” The question came in a slow drawl, all rough and lazy. Long fingers adorned in rings shifted as the boy pointed towards the empty seat next to you. God, he was offensively good-looking.
You blinked and shook your head, “No, have at it.” His gaze pinned you in place for a few more brief seconds before his chin lifted in acknowledgment and he slumped into place beside you.
You had learned absolutely nothing that first class. Or any subsequent class that Min Yoongi deigned with his presence. The odds were about 50/50 on any given day.
Today, his presence was wreaking havoc on your nervous system. Since the initial encounter on your first day of class, the amount of words exchanged between the two of you could be counted on one hand. Last week he had asked you for your notes from a previous class he had missed, and you almost burned from the inside out with embarrassment as he took in your impeccably organized and color-coded notes with raised eyebrows and a slight smirk.
“Were you planning on framing these?” he had asked while snapping a quick series of photos of your notebook pages. In response, you had scowled, pulling your notebook out of his reach.
You were a nerd. You knew that. But you didn’t like being made fun of for it. Especially by a boy as arrogantly apathetic as Min fucking Yoongi.
Therefore, you were doing your absolute best to ignore him today. The hour and a half of class dragged by so slowly you thought you might have grown a couple gray hairs by the time your professor dismissed everyone.
Rushing to pack up your belongings and multitude of colored pens, a small slip of paper dropped onto your desk. Confused, you immediately glanced up to find the source and found Yoongi sauntering away from you, black backpack hitched over one shoulder carelessly.
Fingers shaking, you opened the hastily folded paper: “(y/n) – Sorry if I made you upset last class. I only meant to extend my compliments to the artist... – MYG.”
Compliments to the—Min Yoongi was so full of shit. But you couldn’t fight the small smile that spread across your face.
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“(y/n) ... (y/n) ... (y/n)!”
The sound of your name shook you from your thoughts. Your roommate Nia decided that wasn’t enough and she shoved you in the arm.
“Ow, what the hell, Nia?” you grumbled, rubbing your left bicep dramatically.
Nia scoffed, “You’re staring into your bland salad like it holds the key to the universe. What’s up with you?”
Stabbing said salad with your fork, you waved your well-lettuced utensil in your roommate’s face, “What’s up is that I cannot stand Min Yoongi! He walks around looking like god’s gift to anyone attracted to men. Then, he has the audacity to critique my notes and give me a half-assed apology with further ridicule? The nerve! The gall!”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” Nia cut off your rampage succinctly, “Min Yoongi apologized to you? We are talking about the same Min Yoongi, right? Bleached hair? Piercings? General hatred for life?”
You nodded. Nia’s eyebrows rose to new heights, “We must contact the historians. This is one for the books.”
Rifling through your planner, you pulled out the note Yoongi left you and thrust it in Nia’s direction, “Look!”
Unfolding the small torn paper, you watched as Nia’s eyes darted back and forth... and back and forth... and back and forth.
“Well?”
Nia’s wide eyes lifted to yours, “(y/n) ... Min Yoongi is flirting with you.”
You choked on your lettuce, “What? Where on earth are you getting that? He’s clearly roasting me.”
“Nope,” Nia threw the note back at you, “Clearly flirting. Damn, Min Yoongi is into my best friend? This is wild! Okay, you first need to get on that, and then you need introduce me to Park Jimin.”
“Are you insane?” Your outburst gained annoyed looks from the surrounding students in the dining hall and you lowered your voice, “I am not ‘getting on’ anyone!”
Rolling her eyes, Nia stared pointedly to the right, “So if I'm hearing you correctly, you’re saying that you don’t find him attractive?”
Your eyes followed her line of vision and landed on none other than your topic of conversation. 
God, he looked good. Even surrounded by his group of attractive friends, Yoongi stood out to you. You were just about to glance away when it happened.
Kim Seokjin’s windshield wiper laugh burst through the cacophony of conversations, following what must have been one of his famously so-bad-they’re-good jokes.
And then Min Yoongi smiled.
Your heart stuttered in your chest as you watched his eyes crinkle, his cheeks turn a pretty pink and, his smile to widen into the cutest, most devastating gummy smile you had ever seen in your entire life.
“Holy fuck.” You exhaled. It was official. You were fucking whipped.
“Yup, that’s what I thought,” Nia’s smug tone pulled your focus away from this new version of Yoongi you were desperate to know, “Still going to deny that you want to jump his bones?”
“...No.”
You were scared shitless by Nia’s maniacal grin in response to your admission.
“Excellent,” she smirked, her palms rubbing together like a plotting villain, “Here’s what we’re going to do...”
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Friday, September 29th – 10:34pm
Your hands tugged at the hem of the short leather miniskirt Nia loaned you for the night as your stomach flipped more times than Simone Biles’ floor routine.
Damn, you were nervous.
When Nia talked you into attending Kim Taehyung’s party, you had agreed pretty easily. You both had reasoned that Yoongi might not even be there; and, if he was, you would just see if he would approach you.
It had seemed so simple in the moment, but now as you grasped your beer you realized that nothing regarding Min Yoongi was simple. Since arriving about twenty minutes ago, you and Nia had immediately been recruited for beer pong by Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Unable to crush Nia’s dreams of hooking up with Jimin, you had agreed immediately even though you were both absolutely terrible at the game.
Jimin and Jungkook now only had one cup left to make, while you and Nia had five. You dipped the pong ball into the designated cup of water to clean it, took aim and watched in glee as the ball sailed into the front cup.
“Oh, fuck yes!” You and Nia high-fived, taking in the rare victory. Opening her mouth to respond, Nia’s words died in her throat as she looked over your shoulder.
“What is it?” you began to turn to see what was so alarming to your friend.
“No!” Nia hissed, “Don’t you dare turn around. Min Yoongi is staring at you like you’re a five-course meal and he’s starving.”
Your soul left your body, only to be snapped back into place with the interrupting cheers from Jimin and Jungkook as they sunk their last cup.
“Good game!” Jungkook’s arm wrapped around you in a half-hug. You shoot Nia a look, but she’s completely occupied in conversation with Jimin. Jungkook’s arm fell to encircle your waist when you felt it – the weight of a certain someone’s gaze.
You barely registered Jimin and Nia’s exit from the pong table and onto the makeshift dancefloor in Taehyung’s living room. And when Jungkook suggested getting another drink from the kitchen you almost shouted in agreement. Anything to escape the eyes you knew were glued to you.
He’s just a boy, you tried to remind yourself, you could handle Min Yoongi.
You followed Jungkook into the cramped kitchen, nodding along to whatever story he’s rambling on about. Locating the vast array of alcohol scattered along the kitchen island, you grabbed a solo cup and fixed yourself a rum and coke.
“...and then Jin-hyung said ‘It’s burgundy!’” You tuned back in to Jungkook’s story just in time to laugh in the appropriate place. You felt bad. Jungkook was cute and sweet, but just not your type.
“Jungkook,” a low voice broke through your shared laughter.
Jungkook’s eyes widened in alarm as he turned to face the intruder, “Yoongi-hyung! Wh-what’s up?”
Yoongi’s gaze narrowed; Jungkook gulped, “Bye, (y/n)-noona.”
You watched in horror as Jungkook literally scrambled out of the room to get away from you and Yoongi.
“Why’d you do that?” You looked up at Yoongi.
Damn, he looked good. His blonde locks were tousled like he had been running his hands through it and his cheeks were slightly flushed – probably from drinking.
Yoongi ignored your question, shooting a look at the group of boys occupying the kitchen counter space next to you and they immediately made themselves scarce.
His dark gaze turned back to you, “Why Jungkook?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “What?”
“Why were you talking to Jungkook, (y/n)?” Yoongi moved closer to you, backing you into the counter behind you, “That boy couldn’t handle you.”
Your eyebrows quirked up, “And why’s that?”
“Because, baby, all that hair, all that ass, and all that attitude needs a man to give you what you want and what you need.”
You struggled to formulate an answer as you watched as he took a long sip of his beer, his eyes continuing to burn into yours.
“Are you drunk, Min Yoongi?”
“Lil’ bit,” he muttered and shot you a devastating half-smile, “But still sober enough to appreciate how goddamn good you look right now.”
Your mouth opened and closed several times before you choked out, “I thought you hated me?”
His hand darted through his hair as his jaw flexed once… twice, “Not even close.”
“But you don’t talk to me... you made fun of my notes!”
“I don’t talk to you because I think you’re so fucking cute with your colored pens and your oversized sweatshirts and your overused planner. I don’t talk to you because I want to ruin you and worship you all at once.”
All air had escaped your lungs at this point. You let out a jagged breath as Yoongi suddenly slid his hands around your waist.
He scooped you off the floor and placed you on the edge of the counter. Your arms circled his shoulders instinctually and his grip tightened on your hips. When he glanced down at you, he let out a rough breath, sounding like you were torturing him.
Turning to the side, you tried to hide from his intensity behind the curtain of your hair, but he just pushed it back behind your ear.
“Yoongi, please…” Your desperate words left your mouth subconsciously, the feeling of his lips so close to yours made your pulse race and your head spin.
“What do you want, baby?” he asked, his voice hoarse and his pupils dilated, “I’ll give you anything. Just ask.”
“Kiss me?” You barely finished asking your question before Yoongi’s lips slammed onto your own.
He kissed you like he wanted to own you – and to have you own him. Gravity tried to drag you down off the counter and your mouths separated in a gasp. Yoongi hoisted you up higher with a firm hand on the back of your thigh.
Hooking your leg around his slim waist, you tugged him into you, feeling every inch of his body respond to your touch. He breathed heavily as you dragged your nails down his back slowly, provokingly. You felt his responding groan rumble deep from within his chest.
His free hand latched into your hair and tugged your lips back to his. You both moaned as his tongue circled yours, twining around it, enticing yours to follow.
You swore the way Min Yoongi kissed could be felt all the way down to your bones.  
His kisses got greedier, more desperate as he seemed to be trying to memorize the taste of your mouth on his. “God-fucking-damn," he panted, pulling back slightly and resting his forehead on yours.
You smiled, completely fucked out. His fingertips dragged down your skin slowly until he reached your waist. His hands slid up under your shirt, and he rested his palms against your skin, fingers splayed down over your hips. His hold was undeniably possessive.
Shifting his head into the crevice of your neck, Yoongi muttered, “Go out with me, (y/n).”
The only answer your last few braincells could formulate was a garbled “Mkay”. But judging from the smile you felt against your pulse point, it was good enough for him.
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a/n: originally was going to make this fic about jungkook (inspired by this post), but I decided I needed to write it about Yoongi bc he is baby
© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.
5K notes · View notes
awormonastring · 4 years
Text
Office Hours- Professor Aizawa x Student
Summary: Life as a college student left you bored. Your history professor, Aizawa Shouta gives you just what you need, but you get a little too close.
Word count: 6077
CW: Professor x Student Relationship 
ao3
College life was basic. Wake up, go to school, come home, do homework, sleep. It was a basic cycle, but you made the most out of it by getting good grades. Except recently, something was up. It was your third year of college and you still didn’t have a major. With all your friends being in the process of getting ready to graduate, you were still left confused. This made you feel alone and unfulfilled. Ultimately, you just felt unmotivated with school. What’s the point of trying if you’re just going nowhere? So you started to miss more of your classes, assignments, which led to your grades plummeting. Your history class was a class you genuinely enjoyed but you just never felt like going. To avoid getting kicked out from school (which would upset your parents), you decided to just show up to your classes.
You forced yourself to wake up early, with your class starting at 10am, and decided to do your makeup and actually make an effort to get ready (just as a little motivation boost). You headed to your 10am science class and actually made it on time, which made you feel proud. After about 2 hours your class ended and you had about an hour long break until your last class of the day which was your history class. You decided to get some coffee to wake you up a bit since you felt extremely tired. A part of you still felt unmotivated, but you convinced yourself to push through.
It was 2pm and you were now in your last class of the day. You kept on giving yourself little motivators to make yourself pay attention and try:
“C’mon Y/N. It’s the last class of the day. After this you can go home and reward yourself with a nap. It’ll go by quickly. You like this subject plus this professor is good looking. At least let that motivate you” the little voice in your head said.
Sitting next to the door, you were the first one who knew when your professor was here. You could hear his footsteps and smell his cologne that left an invisible trail leading to the door. He walked into the room holding a coffee cup and black messenger bag. His long black hair was tied back into a low bun. He wore a light blue dress shirt, dark grey pants, and dark brown shoes. Damn, he actually was really good looking. It was something you never noticed since you were always just focused on your work and left class as soon as it ended. You didn’t even know his name. It started with an “A” but you weren’t really sure what it was. To your luck, one of your classmates raised his hand to ask a question. Professor Aizawa was his name. The name easily flowed off your tongue as you mouthed it. Getting your attention, pieces of paper being passed your way.
Oh shit.
It turns out that today your first paper of the semester was due, and you had no idea. As Professor Aizawa came by to collect the papers, he could sense your gloomy energy.
“Y/N,” he spoke which caused your head to look up at him, “Can you stay after class? I have to talk to you about something?”
“Yeah.” You responded. Great. Was he going to drop you from the class for missing too many days? Probably. The duration of the class consisted of you bouncing your leg, clicking your pen, wallowing in anxiousness. You know you were probably bothering the rest of your classmates, but you weren’t a person of confrontation. Class finally ended. You waited for the rest of your classmates to leave before approaching Professor Aizawa’s desk.
Waiting with sweaty palms, Professor Aizawa looked up at you while he was in the middle of writing. He placed the tip of his pen to his mouth, thinking about what to say.
“Y/N. I’ve recently noticed that you haven’t been showing up to class.” You could sense the disappointment in his face, which was weird. Why was he so disappointed about you not showing up to class? He’s never even spoken to you, let alone even acknowledged you until now. After taking a long inhale, you respond.
“Yeah. I’m sorry, I just… I’m just going through one of those times. There’s just a lot going on with me.”
“I understand. But you always have to make the most out of your education, you aren’t paying all this tuition for nothing,” He gently laughed, “Anyways, I wanted to let you know about your recent missing assignments but my next class is about to start. How about I give you my card and you come to my office hours. This is gonna be my last class so if you’re free in about an hour you can come and we can figure out what to do about these assignments.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out his card.
The card reads: Shouta Aizawa. Department of Social Sciences. Head of the History Department.
His phone number and email are also being shown. You looked up at him.
“Okay. Sounds good! I can wait an hour. Thank you.”
You left the classroom feeling a bit of a relief. You honestly expected him to just drop you from the class. But the way he was so nice with you made you feel relaxed. It made you feel like someone could see the better in you. You headed to the library to take a nap before this meeting.
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Walking around the social science building, you had no idea where you were going. The fact that the social science building consisted of 3 levels definitely made things more complicated for you. His office was located in 118O. You weren’t anywhere near that. “142” the nearest room showed. You decided to just give up and figure everything out tomorrow.
From a short distance, you could see Professor Aizawa walking the other direction. You thought about following him but felt like you would seem creepy if you did that. He turned around and noticed you staring at him.
“Hello Y/N. Are you lost?” he remarked. God how weird did you look just standing there? Your face flushed red.
“Hi Professor Aizawa. I’m sorry. I was just trying to find your office but uh, this building is a lot bigger than I expected” You tried laughing to ease awkwardness.
“No worries. Just follow me. My office is a bit hard to find since it’s sort of isolated.” He walked a bit in front of you while telling you about his previous class and how half of the class didn’t show up. After about 5 minutes, the two of you arrived at his office. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door. You were surprised to find that his office was extremely clean. From his appearance, you assumed his office was going to be a little messy. His office consisted of random diplomas, a stack of papers on his desk along with a computer, black couch, basically everything that would be in your typical office. He glanced at you, “Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” He sat at his computer, typing away.
You looked around at his office to find something to help start conversation since the silence in the room made you feel awkward. Except, he didn’t have any photos. No family, friends, nothing. It made you feel kind of bad for him. Imagine how lonely he must be.
Finally saying something, the professor started, “Looking at your current grade- well, you’re at a D+ right now. C’mon Y/N, I expected better of you. You started off my class doing exceptional work on all my assignments. But now, you are so behind.”
“I know. I just haven’t been doing good these past couple of weeks. It’s just a lot going on not even with my life ju-”
“It’s alright. If you want to explain what has been going on, I’m here to listen. I just want you to do better. I don’t like seeing my students struggle, especially if I know what they are capable of. You can talk to me about what you are going through, only if you’re comfortable” His eyes glued to his computer then made eye contact with you for a brief moment. After a few seconds, he ran his fingers, pushing the strands on his face back, going back to viewing the screen.
You felt conflicted. You wanted to tell him about what you were going through. But, you didn’t feel like your struggles were valid. Should you be given another shot at your assignments when you didn’t show up to class for almost a month? Nothing was going on in your life, so what could you even say?
You decided to just say what was on your mind. Being honest was the only chance you had at passing this class, especially since you wanted to transfer soon. You stopped playing with your fingers and fixed your posture.
“Well, recently I’ve just been overthinking. I’ve kind of lost all my motivation for school. I don’t even know why. I’m assuming it’s because I still don’t have a major while all my friends are already transferring, graduating, and planning out their futures. While I’m just stuck. I feel like I’m not going anywhere.” The man sitting across from you, with his full attention. You didn’t even know when he stopped paying attention to his computer. He responds.
“That’s completely understandable”
“What?” That caught you off guard. You were so used to most teachers invalidating their students’ feelings.
“I mean. I can absolutely see how that would affect your mindset for school. How about we figure out a plan to get you right back on track.” His hands clasped together showed that he was genuinely interested in helping you. Staring at his hands, you noticed his hands were really big, his veins immediately grabbing your attention. This caused your face to go red. You could tell he enjoyed working out in his free time.
“Sounds good.” you smiled. You were still confused as to why he was helping you but he was able to get your grade up plus he was attractive so it served as eye candy while he worked.
After countless questions about your interests, the two of you were able to figure out a potential major for you which made you feel a lot more motivated. You felt like you were finally moving forward rather than continuing to be stagnant. Two hours had now passed and you had to go home. As you packed your notebook and pencil bag, the man invited you to another potential meeting.
“Y/N if you ever need help with figuring out how to go about your major just let me know and we could help figure out a plan.” He stated. His eagerness to help you really meant a lot, so why not visit him again?
“Yeah. That actually sounds really good. I’d love to plan out my schedule.” You responded.
“Great! You can just come by whenever. No need to make an appointment… that is if you can find my office on your own.” He teased which caused you to jokingly roll your eyes. “Anyways, I’ll see you Y/N.”
“Thank you for your help Professor Aizawa!” You left his office and made your way home. Not only feeling accomplished but also feeling a weird feeling, almost like butterflies.
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The next day, you decided to go by his office to see if he was there. You weren’t planning on having another meeting with Professor Aizawa since you didn’t want to seem weird, but you still wanted to see him since you only had class with him 2 days a week.
You walked into the Social Sciences building and headed to his office, only wanting to casually walk by to get a glance of the professor before heading home. Walking up the stairs, you made your way and pretended to casually stroll by… like you didn’t purposely walk across your campus just to get a glimpse of him. A part of you didn’t even know why you were even doing this. Another part of you just wanted to see what he was wearing, hear his voice, you wanted him to acknowledge you. These thoughts in your head turned into a full on day dream and you dozed off as you walked, not noticing that you had walked by without even looking into his office.
“Fuck” You thought. You missed your chance at seeing him. Should you walk back and potentially get caught walking around his office or should you just give up and go home?
You turned around and headed back towards his office. If he noticed you walking by his office again you could just say you forgot something. But why would he even ask? Your mind started to race with possible scenarios that could occur. Suddenly, you noticed a figure walking towards you. Of course, it was Professor Aizawa heading home.
“Hi Y/N. What are you doing here? There aren’t any classes going on right now?”
Embarrassment flowed throughout your whole body. You weren’t even sure of what to tell him since you were on the third floor of the Social Science Building where all the offices were located. Most of the professors had gone home. You cleared your throat.
“Um- I was just…” God what could you even say? “I just wanted to see if you were in your office- to see if we could plan out my schedule for next semester. You know since you said you could help me” You awkwardly laughed.
“Oh.”
“But I see you’re done for the day so we can just plan ano-”
“No it’s fine. I don’t mind staying later. I’m not busy this evening” He interrupted.
The two of you walked to his office. You felt a little guilty since you’re the reason that he has to stay on campus even longer.
“I’m sorry for making you stay later” You apologized.
“No don’t be sorry. I don’t mind at all. Listen. My job is to help my students. I enjoy this.”
You had no idea why that made your heart rate increase. Were you starting to develop feelings for your professor? You were so confused but you pushed it aside to take in the time you were spending. Admiring every feature of his face. From his man bun, to his 5 o’clock shadow, everything about Professor Aizawa captivated you.
After about an hour, you finally had all your classes for the next 2 semesters planned out. You planned on taking 12 units per semester which included general ed classes along with classes for your major. Grinning at your professor as you put away your paperwork into your backpack, you felt so much appreciation for him. In just 2 days, you were able to not only pick a major, but also plan out your semesters. And it was all thanks to your history professor.
“Thank you so much. I really appreciate you going all this way for me. I really don’t deserve all this honestly. But it means a lot that you are so willing to help me.”
“Don’t sweat it. Seeing you grow is enough of a reward to me. It’s why I do what I do.” He was packing his things as well.
“Well, I’ll see you in class! Thank you so much again for all your help,” waving goodbye as you walked out.
When you approached the door of the Social Science building you noticed that it was pouring rain outside. You had no idea it was even going to rain so you definitely were not prepared. Conveniently, you also planned to walk home since you couldn’t afford an uber home. You decided to try calling your mom, no answer. Friends? The two friends you had both worked. While you were waiting and trying to call your friends, Professor Aizawa approached the door to go to his car.
“Oh my bad.” He could sense that there was something wrong with you which caused him to make a second take to you. “You have a way home right?” Oh no. Were you better off lying to him or being honest?
“Um, yeah I wasn’t aware it was gonna rain today and I was planning on walking home. I don’t know why no one is answering to pick me up.”
“If you want I could give you a ride home. Just so you don’t have to walk home in the rain,” the keys wiggling between his fingers called your attention.
“Oh god haha. I feel bad.”
“I don’t mind. I’d rather drive you home then have you walking home by yourself in the rain.”
“If you can, I would appreciate it.”
“Alright. Let’s go.” He declared.
Walking to the parking lot while sharing an umbrella, you wondered what kind of car your professor would have. Your curiosity was put on hold when you heard a car ring. There it was. You weren’t someone who knew much about cars but the car had a small logo in front. The top of the license plate read: Mercedes Benz. The car shimmered with a clean grey tint. The car itself looked expensive. You both entered the car and headed to your home.
The car ride was about half an hour. It was also very silent. Professor Aizawa occasionally made small talk but due to the fact that it was pouring rain he became too focused on the road. The car was filled with the sound of the radio playing top hits. From time to time, you would glance at him. You noticed how mad he looked when he drove which made you flustered. His left thumb was placed on his lip as his right hand steered the wheel. Whenever someone cut him off, he would tug on his tie to let out his frustration. Furrowed eyebrows and random moments where he would clear his throat as if he was about to say something but never did. You noticed the details about the professor, such as when he would look back, he’d place his arm around your seat which always made you hold your breath with a clear blush on your face.
Professor Aizawa finally arrived at your house. You watched his hand as he moved the gear shift to ‘P.’ He rubbed his five o clock shadow before turning to you. You were lost in him.
“This is your house right?” He questioned which broke you from your trance.
“Oh! Yeah. This is my house. Thank you again for taking me home. I’ll try giving you gas money next time I see you”
“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. Your house is on the way to mine so I don’t lose anything from taking you home. Let me know if you ever need me to drop you off again okay?”
“Sure thing. Thank you again Professor Aizawa!”
“Call me Aizawa. I’m not on the job right now so feel free to just call me Aizawa. Have a good one.” He laughed. You exited his car and walked to your door, noticing that he was waiting until you entered your home which made your heart warm.
When you entered your room, you immediately threw yourself on your bed. An exhale left you and had you feeling a sense of satisfaction. Your whole body felt warm and you weren’t sure why. You felt so many feelings. You constantly wanted to be around Aizawa. A part of you felt disappointed that he would never send you a text message everyday, let alone even feel the same way about you. The other part of you felt a sense of bliss that you were even in his car. Another part of you felt weird and wrong for having these wants and feelings towards your professor. You pressed your thighs together to give yourself the pleasure your teacher would never be able to, imagining his touch granting you all of your deepest desires as a melody of his name left your lips.
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The next couple of weeks consisted of you going to Aizawa’s office after your classes. The first couple of days, you would make up random excuses to visit him like homework help, directions, small things like that. As time passed on, you just started to go with no excuse. The two of you would talk for hours about random things. He would even go as far as buy you food. The two of you would eat while laughing about life stories each of you would tell. He would take you home everyday, even teaching you how to drive. The man would constantly tease you for not knowing how to drive.
“So let me get this. You’re 21 and can’t drive?” The man laughed as he took the last bite of his burrito bowl.
“Yeah,” you mumbled, “you know I kinda have a fear of driving.”
“Want me to teach you?”
The more you hung out with him, the more you fell head over heels over him. You felt like your feelings were wrong. Was it bad to like someone 10 years older than you? Someone who already had his life figured out while you were still trying to figure out yours? These questions kept you up at night. The divide within your thoughts had you torn. No one could fulfill you like he could.
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You entered his office one Thursday evening. It was the end of the week and the end of finals. You were completely exhausted. When you entered Aizawa’s office, things were different. The couch and your usual seat were gone. You stared at the professor in confusion.
“Oh… are you busy today?” You questioned.
“No. Oh! The chairs- I just needed to get my furniture cleaned since the semester is about to end but I guess they still haven’t finished cleaning.” He kept his eyes on the computer.
“Should I leave?” You were so confused. He was acting so weird.
“Why?” He continued typing, completely unfazed.
“Well there’s nowhere for me to sit…”
“Why don’t you just sit on the floor, princess” Immediately, a look of regret spread on his face. He was so focused typing he didn’t realize what he said, “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.” Both of your faces were covered in a bright shade of red. You tried to ease the discomfort in the room. “Oh it’s okay I actually like it! It’s cute!” Too honest. That was probably the wrong thing to say. Aizawa moved his focus from his computer to you. His eyes could see the longing you felt for him. His eyes knew that you wanted him.
“Oh really?” He playfully said, “In that case, I don’t think a princess should be sitting on the ground like that.”
“Well there’s nowhere else to sit.” You could sense he was flirting with you. Did he want you as much as you wanted him, or was it all in your head?
“Well… why don’t you sit on my lap?” His voice mocked you. The energy in the room had completely shifted. It felt like pure ecstasy. Was this real? Or just another one of your dreams? One of those dreams of your professor that left you absolutely soaked every single time you woke up. There was no way this was reality.
Aizawa had rolled his chair back, waiting for you to join him. His hands hanging from the arm rests, the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows which made your breathing faster. You wanted those hands on you so bad. The urge for pleasure ran all over your body.
“What the fuck” was all you could say. It caught you off guard that he would say something like that. You were so used to seeing him be professional that seeing this side of him threw you off, but you loved this new side of him. And you wanted to have some fun with him…
“Maybe if you would’ve had a chair I would’ve had an actual place to sit..but whatever I guess” You talked back. You knew this would bother him since he was so used to being in charge as a teacher.
“Ahhh so that’s how it’s going to be” which was followed by a sinister giggle and dark stare. Your body was entangled by Aizawa’s eyes. He didn’t even have to lift a finger and you were already walking towards him. He had you on an imaginary leash that you loved. When you were close enough he yanked your arm and placed you on his lap, looking away from him. You could feel yourself getting wet for him.
”Since you want to act like a little brat with me, how about I show you how things are done here? You must’ve gotten a little too comfortable with me so let me put you in your place, princess” He whispered into the crook of your neck, which released a whine in you.
“Look at how wet you are for me, all I have to do is whisper in your ear and you’re dripping for me, I can feel it,” He was right. Aizawa didn’t have to touch you and you were a mess for him. Even in class, whenever you noticed Aizawa glance at you, you would always tighten your thighs just to get some sort of small release. His whisper in your ear made you so weak and he knew that, “So why doesn’t my princess destress herself. I can't even imagine how stressful school must be for her.” His hands were wrapped around you, gently brushing against your bare inner thigh. You always wore skirts everyday in hopes that he could put his hands up your legs and it was finally happening.
“Hnnng” All you could do was whine. Nothing was being done, so how could you already feel so much?
“C’mon. Why don’t you grind on my thigh? I can tell by the way you’ve been looking at me that you’ve wanted this for so, so long. Go on- Here why don’t I help you” The man proceeded to grab your hips and gyrate them. Moving your body in circles, you whimpered cries of pleasure. His toned thigh against your throbbing sex while his hands gripped you. His hands progressively got tighter around your waist and he began using his tongue on your neck to follow the gyrating motion from your hips. All you could do was grasp his hands and cry. You felt so good but you had to keep your voice down since the two of you were in his office and you were scared others would hear.
“God, I can feel how wet you are for me. C'mon let me hear you moan for me, don’t be shy” He nibbled on your ear as he moved his hand down your body and underneath your skirt. He chuckled under his breath as he felt how wet you were for him. Aizawa gave you some time to get used to his touch before inserting two fingers inside of you. An audible “mmm” could be heard and felt from him. He thought it was so hot how much you wanted him. He noticed all those times in class when you would move your eyes to his bulge whenever he was teaching, or when you would stare at his hands when he drove. He wanted to keep you wanting him.
He removed his fingers from your pussy and stuck them in your mouth so you could taste yourself. Moving his fingers, you gagged with watery eyes.
“Look at you. You’re a sloppy fucking mess for me. I can't wait to have my cock in you.” He moaned in your ear before moving you to the ground. The man moved you to the ground and demanded you to strip for
“Strip for me like the slut you are.” He walked back to his seat and watched you fully clothed as you slowly removed your clothes. He didn’t move at all, his eyes stayed glued on you. Meanwhile, you couldn’t even stare at him. You focused your attention to your clothes. After finally taking off everything, he made you crawl to him. A part of you was embarrassed at how much control this man had over you. But the other half of you had dreamt of this for so long. You wanted him to control you so bad.
You slowly unzipped his pants and could feel his erect cock spring out. A trail of precum leaked from it. You took the tip into your mouth as your tongue swirled along his sensitive part which stirred up a groan from the man. After a few minutes, you fully took him into your mouth. You felt pressure on the back of your head. Aizawa had placed his hand on the back of your head to keep you on his entire cock. This elicited a gag from you.
“Damn you would think with the way you dress you’d know how to do this by now. No worries, princess I’ll teach you how” He ridiculed before grabbing your hair and moving your face to his shaft, taking him whole. He started to move your face up and down his cock as he fucked your face. The back of your throat burned and your vision was blurred, however through all that, this was the most fulfilled you’ve been. After so many dreams of Aizawa, you finally had him. Your fantasy was being granted. He came in your mouth, telling you to open your cum filled mouth. He grabbed your face as he spit in your mouth. You swallowed before thanking him.
“Thank you, sir” You breathed. He grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you for the first time. Lips brushed against each other as the two of you mumbled sweet nothings. Aizawa stroked himself as he seductively spoke in between your lips.
“Well since there’s no chair I guess the only place your slutty ass can sit is on my cock, huh princess?” He sat on his chair, his hand around your waist. His hair was down and strands covered his face. A look of sin was conveyed on his face. He wasn’t just your professor anymore. At this moment, Aizawa embodied corruption. This was a completely different side of him that no one would ever get to see. Nobody except you. This realization scared you but it also excited you.
You joined him on the chair and slowly lowered yourself onto his cock. You let out a harsh cry as soon as his tip was inside of you before quickly covering your mouth.
“I want you to fuck yourself using my cock, you understand?” He purred into your ear which sent chills down your spine.
“Y-yes sir” You stuttered before slowly lifting yourself up. Up & down- the motion that would drive you mad. Even the slow speed you were going at wasn’t enough to have your legs trembling.
“Ah..fuck” You moaned.
“That’s a good girl. Like that.” Aizawa murmured. He had sat back and admired you, letting you go at your own pace. Occasionally, the man would pet your hair and caress your face.
After some time, impatience grew for Aizawa. He wanted to fuck you so hard. It took everything in him to let you go at your own slow pace. But his animalistic arousal was getting the best of him. He put his hand around your neck as he put you down on his desk.He buried his cock in you. The pace progressively got faster and faster. You weren’t used to this at all.
“Aizawa fuck. Too fast. Please keep going” You begged. Stars started to form in your vision but the feeling of euphoria you felt ran down to your sweet spot. Your natural instinct in you caused you to place your hands on his chest to move him away due to the overwhelming sensation you felt. In response, he stopped. He grabbed your hands that were on his chest and moved them on above your head. Aizawa undid his maroon tie and proceeded to bind your hands together.
“Your hands were getting in the way.” His raspy voice let out an almost menacing chuckle, as if he was now mocking you. You were in his complete control, which is something that brought out a raunchy side of him. It was something that made you absolutely weak. You wanted to submit to him.
He continued to thrust in and out of you again. Eventually, he was going at a fast pace again. His fuck had your mind blank. All you could let out were whimpers and pleads, while he grunted in your ear.
“C’mon I wanna hear you moan louder for daddy. You're daddy’s princess, let me hear you. Here let me help you” The man moved his hand to your sweet spot and proceeded to move his fingers in circles. By this point, you were practically screaming at all the pleasure he was giving you. You didn’t even care if others could hear your moans. You wanted him to keep going so bad, but could your body handle it? You opened your eyes for a brief second and caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes. His black eyes were full of impurity as he watched you go from his innocent student to his lewd fucktoy.
“I'm not gonna let you cum until you’re begging for me. Why don’t you ask me if you can cum?” his hand on your clit continued to move in circles, picking up speed.
“Ah~ Fuck. I want to cum” You moaned. The man grabbed your jaw in an aggressive manner and moved his face close to yours.
“That’s not what I fucking said. I told you to ask. Guess you’re not good at listening to directions huh.” He said as he sternly looked into your tear-filled eyes.
“P-please- Can I please cum?~” You cried out. You ached for release.
Aizawa began pulling your hips down to him, sinking his fingers into them. His cock could be felt pulsating in you as he quickly entered you. Sparks flew within his office. The room was filled with lust and you could feel yourself rising to release. Both of your breaths got faster and you felt yourself let go. Aizawa had released himself on your stomach. You stayed on his desk and he sat in his chair, the two of you catching your breaths and coming back to earth.
“Here.” Aizawa handed you a cold water bottle. “Are you okay?” The concern in his voice made you finally come back to your reality. He helped you clean you up.
“I’m fine.” You felt more than fine. Your mind had just returned from a state of euphoria that you never thought you were ever going to get. You secretly pinched your thigh just to see if you could have been dreaming. This was no dream. This was just a reality you never expected.
“I wasn’t too rough on you right? I guess I got too carried away.”
“No! Don’t worry about it! I was good the whole time.” You reassured him.
The look in his eyes was different now. They gleamed in the light and had a sweet look. The two of you got dressed again. You made your way to the door of the building, before Aizawa rushed to grab your arm. The man cleared his throat once you turned his direction.
“Do you uh- want to eat something before you go? If you want, I can drive you home.” His cheeks became a bright pink, which made you giggle. The fact that he was acting so shy now after everything that the two of you just did.
“Oh. Sure”
“Alright. I’ll order us some Chipotle. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good.” You smiled at him as the two of you walked back to his office. You guys would end up spending the rest of the evening chatting and embracing each other’s company, literally. The rest of the day would be spent in Aizawa’s arms and you would cherish the warmth of his arms around you, feeling safe. 
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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)
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Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |
Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k
MASTERLIST
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Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.
So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.
“Hello, little girl.”
But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.
It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.
“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.
“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.
I hoped not.
Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”
“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.
“Barely,” he corrected.
“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”
I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.
“Yeah, sure feels like it.”
His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.
“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”
“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”
He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.
“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”
“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.
He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”
“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”
Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.
“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.
It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.
“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”
He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”
“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”
“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.
“My last one is on Wednesday.”
The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”
“You should call my professors and yell at them.”
He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”  
“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”
After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”
It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”
The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.
But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.
“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”
“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.
“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”
But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Unfortunately.”
I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.
“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.
But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”  
“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”
“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.
“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.
He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.
“I want… you to go to bed.”
“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.
Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”
“I love you, too, old man.”
He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.
“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.  
“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.
Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”
“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”
“Goodnight, little girl.”
—————————————————
Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.
It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.
The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.
I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”
“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.
“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.
“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.
But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.  
“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.
“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”
“But you weren’t,” I snorted.
Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”
There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.
But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.
“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”
I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.
He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.
Speaking of…
"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them." 
In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.
"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me." 
While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.
“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.
Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever." 
The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.
A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.
“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.
“Is that a challenge?”
I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.
“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.
Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.
As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.
It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.
“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”
But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.
Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.
His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.
Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—
“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.
Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.  
The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.
I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.
For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.
Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.
He kept a few for me.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.
“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.
“This is wildly inappropriate.”
“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.
I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.  
Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.
There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.
“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.
Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”
The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.
I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.
But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.
I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.
“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.
Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”
His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.
“Take me home.”
Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.
“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.
“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.
“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige." 
Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.
“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.
I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.
“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”
With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.
I couldn’t resist.
“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.  
“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.
After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.
—————————————————
The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.
“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.
Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.
From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”
It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.
“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.
“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.
“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.
“Why’s that?”
“I wanted you so badly.”
There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.  
“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”
Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.
“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.
I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.
“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.
“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”
Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.
“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”
“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”
“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”
He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.
“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.
“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.
He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.
“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”
The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.
“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.
“I don’t know…”
If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.
“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”
It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.
“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.
“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.  
I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.
It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.
“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.
“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”
Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.
I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.
“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”
I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.
His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.
But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.
Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.
“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”
My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.
I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.
My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.
Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.
That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.
“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.
“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.
“I’ve heard that one before.”
Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.
It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.
“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”
“Gross,” I joked.
“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.
“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”
Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.
“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.
“Good afternoon, Spencer.”
I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.
And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”
Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.
It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.
“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.  
Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”
In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.
“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”
Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”
Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.
“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.
“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”
“And do what?”
It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.
Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.
And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.
“Whatever we want.”
—————————————————
| Finale |
534 notes · View notes
angsty-omi · 3 years
Text
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arms tonite
fuckboy!atsumu miya x fem!reader
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genre: angst, unrequited love,
cw: suggestive content, swearing, heartbreak
word count: 1.5 k
Different girl every night and no repeats; that was the rule of law Atsumu Miya lived by. Whether it was Asians, Whites, or Black girls he didn’t discriminate. If they had a beating heart and a pussy then he was set. Hearing about these conquests as his best friend, really made you think ‘wow who’s the poor that let Atsumu put his dick in that night?’ And as you would find it, soon enough it’d be you.
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Media portrayal of college students, especially in movies, falsely portrayed college students and gave unrealistic ideas of how they live. These media outlets give impractical ideas of what college students are- intense party seekers, people who have all the time in the world, or just lazy nonworking students who revolve everything around their social lives. This was, by all means not true.
You, and many other diligent college students, can attest to this. The heavy number of finals and research papers due would soon drown you in your sleep. To prevent you from feeling overwhelmed, you always went to him. The one person who could talk your ear off, which though annoying, kept your mind off things, Miya Atsumu. See, Atsumu had the ultimate college experience. The ones that occurred on screen, the ‘intense party seeking’ events where somehow your invite was always lost in the mail. Every Wednesday, you’d always fit him into your schedule for brunch, which mostly consisted of him talking about the ‘new freshman babes’ at the Inarizaki Frat House, and you lived vicariously through him, not because you were envious of his lifestyle, rather, you were just interested in what could’ve been. 
“Did you get that Y/N?” Your thoughts were interrupted.
“U-uh, yeah! Of course, I did.” You tried playing it off, but Atsumu could see right through you. He knew all your mannerisms, for example, when you bite your lip, it’s a sign that you’re prepared for a big change or if you handball your T-Shirt, you’re feeling insecure. He could tell you had something weighing in on you, but he decided to ignore your blatant lie and wait for you to tell him.
“So, are you gonna tell how you’ve been doin’?” He lightly asked. 
“Yeah, uh life has been hard for me… I guess. It’s just that- with all these finals I am feeling so overwhelmed,” you buried your face in your hands to attempt forgetting about school. Knowing Atsumu, he would just drown out your sorrow, or so you thought. You continued, “I can’t eat, sleep, or you know-,” not even acknowledging the fact you just referred about your inability to get off. Atsumu became was suspiciously quiet. 
“What,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Nothing, Nothing,” he shook his head, chuckling.
 “No, seriously what’s so funny?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Ya’ reeeaaaallly want to know?”
“I said yes already, just spit it out,” you irritated with anticipation. 
“I could help your little issue down there,” Atsumu grinned. Studying? When has Atsumu Miya ever wanted to study with you? The only reason he got into this school was because  he was a D1 athlete. Unless, he turned a new leaf and he chose a path where you don’t slap a ball back and forth because quite frankly you thought that it was risky caree- Oh. That little issue. “You’ve got to be kidding, I would never,” you felt offended. It wasn’t that he was ugly, it was quite the opposite. He had a charming personality, while also being built like a Greek God, and with a face like that it’s no wonder these girls fall for him. However, you felt too prideful to sleep with him. Sure, you may have some underlying feelings for him that you shut down deep inside, but you didn’t want to be treated like a human toy. So, that thought was always out of the question.  
“Never say n-” He was interrupted with his corny ringtone.
“Hello?... Yeah, I’m free, right now… Alright, see you then.” 
Atsumu always did this, it was like clockwork. He’d bail on you when you clearly were in distress and he could not even prioritize time to listen. He even, left you with the check. Sure, he’d Venmo you afterwards, but it still hurt nonetheless. On the walk back to your dorm, your thoughts were full of cursing Atsumu out for always bailing on you. Holding it in for so long only lasted you so much before you exploded. 
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That night, Atsumu came over, not even expecting your wrath. 
An hour in, and he still couldn’t understand your argument. “Atsumu, if you could just.. I don’t know- not bail on me? Cause you know, it’s common courtesy!” You exclaimed. 
“Dude, it was literally just a few times, I don’t know why you’re getting so upset?”
“Upset? Upset? Upset is an understatement. How would you feel if I dropped you for some dick?”
“Like that would ever happen. C’mon, Y/N, you’re acting like my girlfriend and I’m uncomfortable.” He blurted, frustrated that this argument has lasted almost two hours. He just rejected you, and you didn’t even get the chance to even address those feelings. 
“Get out.”
“You know I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I don’t care, get out.” You wiped a treacherous tear from your eye. You opened the door, and gestured him to leave. But, he just stood there. Moving over to him in tears, you tried to push him out. Your measly arms were incomparable to his toned abs that he’s built since high school. He grasped your arms, and for a moment you could feel his padded thumb, wiping your cheek. Your faces were only a few inches away. This was your chance to get a taste of him, before he turned into a stranger. You leaned in his lips.
The lack of return made your heart drop. You let go and rambled with apologies,“I-I’m so sorry. Look, I-” He shut you up with another kiss, more passionate than yours. “I told ya’ I could fix that little issue of yours.”
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The morning after, you woke up with your body aching in pain. Drool all over your chin, and in disgust, you wiped your mouth and skimmed your calendar. ‘The biomedical final isn’t at 10, it’s at 8-’ whispering to yourself. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Then, you slowly gazed at your alarm clock, ‘7:57 AM’ it read. 
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” you screamed to yourself. Without thinking, you dashed out the door and sped to the testing center. At the entrance, your professor met eyes with you. “Testing entry is closed, I thought you were better than this, Y/N.” Scolding you up and down. I only missed the final by a couple of minutes, why is she shunning me? You thought. But before you could continue, you looked down. There you were, love marks all over, in your panties and an oversized T-shirt to top it off. 
You rushed into your dorm, to find the vampire who did this to you. The universe was seemingly against you once more, because on your way over to your bedroom, you slipped on a textbook. How ironic. The loud slam woke him up, making him sit upright. “Oh my God Y/N are you okay?” He said with a concerned look on his face.
“Why the fuck are you still in my bed?” 
“Well if you wanna know the details-” He smirked, “No no no, I’m okay,” you interrupted him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what went on. 
You felt blood drip on your upper lip. Both of you just stared in shock. Immediately, he swiped you up, bridal style, and plopped you onto the sink. He stood in between your legs, soaking your nose with numerous amounts of toilet paper. There was a comfortable silence in the air. You know, Atsumu was quite beautiful with his mouth closed. The way the sunlight accentuated his sharp features, with his eyes reflecting a shade of light hazel. In an impulse, you pecked his lips and to your surprise, he reciprocated. 
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It’s been a month since you’ve been hooking up and it’s become your new normal. As a small treat, you wanted to do surprise.
Prior to this dynamic, as best friends you always had a spare key, which his twin brother made sure of because Atsumu was forgetful. As tacky as it was, you were wearing a trench coat, that covered your bright red two-piece lingerie underneath. Silently twisting the knob, you walked into to his bedroom. The apartment was still clean, signaling that he wasn’t home. In which, gave you enough time to position yourself on his bed. After many awkward attempts of seductive positions, you chose the cross-over leg at the edge of his bed, which accentuated your hips. 
You heard his front door open, and his loud voice gave you the signal. You felt relaxed, but it wasn’t until you heard another voice. High-pitched and fruity, it was one of those voices you could tell it’d belong to a pretty girl. You panicked, and mentally scolded yourself for pushing Atsumu to go with a minimalist aesthetic for his bedroom, which left nowhere to hide for you. The knob was opened slightly, where only he could see you. Eye contact was made, and he immediately slammed the door shut. 
There was a muffled, “Hey! uh- my room is kind of dirty right now. Let’s go over to yours.” And after, hearing the front door shut, you assumed she complied. In awe, you mentally kicked yourself over and over again. You took off your attire immediately walking into your bedroom, it burned your skin with insecurities and embarrassment. So much for putting yourself out there. Although, what hurt the most was the way his eyes were full of disgust when he saw you.
That night, he knocked at your door. You opened it, thinking it was your food.
Your heart was beating rapidly, because just an hour ago you made a whole scheme of routes to take without seeing him. You coyly responded with, “you’re not my DoorDash,” and tried to close the door. But he blocked it.
“We need to talk,” he said in the most serious tone you’ve personally ever heard from him. How could those words scare you when you’re not in a relationship.
“What was that shit you pulled earlier?” He irritated. You felt so small under his gaze.
“I thought it would’ve been nice,” you mumbled. “Nice? That girl was the president of one of the most notorious sororities. She could’ve seen you.” He yelled, continuously blaming you. The way he viewed her, would never be the way he saw you. You were just a friend who needed a favor, not someone he actually wanted to pursue.
“You know what? Fine, my fault. Sorry that I ruined it, sorry that I showed up, sorry that I even planned it, sorry I ever thought that you saw me more than just a skank, sorry I even called you over that night, and finally, sorry for ever loving-” it just slipped out. His eyes widened, “Finish that sentence, Y/N. If I knew-”
“Knew what? Knew that I loved you, you wouldn’t have gotten involved? Yeah, well it’s too late. You know what? Just get out. I never want to see you again, Miya,” you sobbed, tears flowing down your face freely. Pounding your fists against his chest. His immobility gave you a small sliver of hope.
“I’m not ready, Y/N. I can’t give you what you want.” Conflicted, unbeknownst whether he was talking to you or himself. “But we can still be friends.”
That sentence was the nail in the coffin.
“It hurts to even look at you Atsumu.” Your voice cold. For someone that could read you so well, why did he think that would save your relationship? “I’ll.. be on my way then.” He slowly got up, and turned the knob. Selfishly enough, he made one more glance at you. He embraced this last glance. Did you know you were beautiful? Even with snot, running down your nose. Of course, you didn’t look back, you were too focused on biting your lips.
Atsumu’s face went pale. He knew what sign that meant. And the change was him. You were really set on ghosting him. With the door closed and Atsumu leaning on it, he couldn’t help to question why that made a pang in his heart.
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189 notes · View notes
elena-reina · 4 years
Text
First Love Part 2 - Harry Potter x Reader
Request: Would u write a part 2 to first love? more angst but her and harry end up together? - Anon
Warnings: none
Part 1
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"Are you going to the celebration?”
You lifted your gaze from the book you were reading and locked eyes with Harry. You tilted your head to the side, lightly raising an eyebrow. Sitting in the library for the evening enjoying any random book that caught your attention, the room was dimly lit. 
The smell of parchment paper lingered around the room, almost comforting in a way. You were situated near the window so that you could look outside and watch the trees sway through the stormy night before heading off to bed.
“Celebration?” you questioned. 
Harry took your response as an invitation to sit next to you. Uncomfortable, you shielded yourself by subconsciously shifting to the side; however Harry didn’t bother to notice this. 
“Now that it’s Christmas Holiday, the other Professor’s are throwing a small get together for all the staff tomorrow at the Three Broomsticks.”
He gave you a thoughtful look with furrowed eyebrows, his hands pressed together as he twiddled his thumbs back and forth, and an unreadable face. You set your book down on the table in front of you, and pushed your hair behind your ear, clearing your throat.
“Oh, no I don’t think I am. It’s already pretty late.. I should head to bed,” you dismissed, standing up. His head followed your trail. You pressed your lips together, looking from side to side before bowing your head and turning away to walk out the room. You hadn’t realized that you sped walked until you were in your room in only a matter of seconds.
You had been running into Harry more times than you could count on your fingers. Were they coincidences or synchronized. You couldn’t tell. 
Collapsing onto your bed, you grabbed a pillow and threw it on top of your face. You let out a scream that was only muffled by the pillow and slowly lowered it to expose half your face. Your eyes stared up at your ceiling.
You were confused by the communication between you and Harry. In moments you felt like there was a lot left unsaid- but it was also for the better. Some things were better left unsaid. You drifted off to sleep, awaiting for the next morning to come along.
“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, “I appreciate everything that you do for me deeply. I wish there was more I could do for you. Is there anything you need?”
“No,” you smiled warmly. “I’m okay, you’re all I need.”
Was it easy dating Harry? No, not really. Rumors would spread like wildfire, but neither you nor Harry chose to engage in any of it. However sometimes you would overhear such ridiculousness that you couldn’t help but be upset sometimes.
He frowned, feeling as though you were holding something back. “Are you sure?”
You brought your face closer to his. You brushed your nose with his, grinning.
“Kiss me.”
He smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips on yours, slowly.
A booming clap of thunder jolted you awake from your deep slumber. The deafening sound rattled throughout the room, sending vibrations through your bones. You instinctively flew up into a sitting position, clutching your thick, warm comforter to your chest, looking around the room. Your breath labored, coming in quick, shallow pants as the haze of sleep dispersed from your mind. Your heart was beating fast in your chest. As you try to maintain your breathing, you rub your eyes, repositioning yourself to lay on your side, the pillow beneath your cheek cooling your warm skin.
Looking at the clock, your eyes were still blurry from just waking up, it was morning, but the dark grey clouds outside made the sky dark. Another roar of thunder rumbled throughout your room as the outside stormed. Rain hit your window, endlessly running down the glass. 
“What is wrong with me,” you mumbled, pushing your hand in your face. It’s like your dreams want to torment you. Yawning, you decided it was best to get ready for the day.
Brushing the hair our of your face, you went for your daily stroll through Hogwarts. You loved taking in the scenery of the, now, remodeled school. You remember the Battle of Hogwarts like it was yesterday. The crumbling of the classrooms you’ve spent so long studying in, the countless meals eaten in the Grand Hall, and spending time with everyone overall.
Walking through the open halls, you examined all the potted plants. One of the plants was hidden far back away from the others, dying from a lack of water. The rain outside created an atmosphere of calmness.
Bending over, you grabbed onto the potted plant and stood up, examining a place you could possibly put it down. You lightly grabbed one of the brittle leaves in your hand, feeling it’s leafy-veins.
“What’re you doing?” Harry said, coming out of the blue.
Startled, you jumped accidentally loosening your grip over the plant in your hand, causing it to fall to the floor and break.
“Shit,” you sighed, bending over to clean up the mess from the plant you dropped.
“I’m so sorry, here let me help you,” Harry rushed, bending over with you to help pick up the broken pieces of terracotta.
“No, it’s alright. I’m the one who dropped it-”
Your hands accidentally brush past each others, sending electricity through you. You lift your gaze pulling back, stood up, and pulled out your wand.
“Reparo.”
The pot began to fix itself back together. Slipping your wand back in your pocket, and put the plant near the rain.
“Sorry about that,” he apologized again.
“Don’t worry about it,” you dismissed, “Now, if you’ll just excuse me.” 
You began to walk in the opposite direction of his presence. You knew it that your relationship had ended a while ago, but this didn’t mean you wanted anything to do with him. You tried denying yourself the truth, but deep down you were still bitter about how the breakup ended. And now that you two were both Professor’s at Hogwarts, it’s even harder to forget about everything.
“Y/N, wait, please,” he breathed, catching up to you. “I need to say something.” Annoyed, you stopped and huffed.
“What, Harry? Why do you and I keep running into each other, I’ve got things to do. Why don’t you go and hang out with your best friends, Ron and Hermione,” Your tone sounded more harsh than you had intended. You almost regretted it, but it was too late now. You stood your ground. He was taken back by your outburst.
“Are you avoiding me?” he said, his green eyes searching for any sign of emotion behind your blank ones.
You scoffed, looking to the side at the rain falling. “Yes, Harry! Gosh, how can you be so dense!?” you exclaimed, “Clearly, I’m not over what happened to us-”
“Years ago.”
“I know it was years ago, but I’m still hurt! I loved you for fucks sake, don’t you get that. It took me a while to get over you and erase you from my brain and here you come involving yourself in my life again,” you voice trailed off.
“And you don’t think I haven’t been hurting as well?”
You sneered. “You? Hurting?” you bitterly chuckled, “You’ve got to be kidding me. You ended things with me.”
“To protect you!” he shouted, running his hand through his hair, scratching it. He did this when he was stressed.
“Protect me?! Stop acting like you did it all for me, it was your own selfish intentions. If you weren’t ready for a relationship, you should’ve just said so instead of that bullshit you told me that night.” You were pissed. Your sadness was being masked by your rage.
He mumbled under his breath too quiet for you to hear. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “I can’t hear you.”
“Things were just different that night,” he whispered.
“I agree, it’s when you finally let your true colors shine through,” you began. He opened his mouth to immediately interject, but you beat him to it.
“I meant nothing to you. You said it yourself, Harry. You valued your friendship with Ron and Hermione than your own relationship with me.”
“Stop saying that!” he shouted, raising his voice this time, “It isn’t true! You meant everything to me! EVERYTHING!”
“NO, I DIDN’T!” You yelled back, matching his energy. “YOU ABANDONED US!”
His eyes glossed over, he was on the verge of tears. This normally would have brought you tears as well, but it was like all your emotions were cut off and replaced with anguish. 
“I LOVED YOU AND STILL DO!” He licked his lips.
“Then why did you end things so easily like I hadn’t given you my all.”
He took a breath, his voice wavering. 
“I couldn’t lose you like I’ve lost everyone else in my family, Y/N. Everyone in my life I loved always ended up dead- and if you died because of me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself,” he paused, “I thought it was better that you be mad at me than dead.”
You were at a loss for words. “All I ever wanted was you.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to take back what I said, but can we please try again?” he pleaded, taking your hands in his. You looked up at him, unsure.
“I can’t get hurt again,” you whispered.
“You won’t, just give me one last chance. I promise.”
Thinking about it for a bit, you shifted on your feet.
“How about this, once you prove it to me first, I’ll let you know how I’m feeling.”
You weren’t ready to completely let your guard down, the truth of the matter is that you were still scared. 
“Deal, now. Will you join me for the celebration later or is that still a done deal?” he said with a small smile forming on his face. You bit your cheek, to hold back your smile, but it evidently came through. Nodding your head, you walked the rest of the way through Hogwarts having a heartfelt conversation with him.
Maybe happy endings do exist sometimes.
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Hello! I just saw your post about wanting remus prompts? Obvs no pressure but I cant get this out of my mind of the rat man..... BAKING
Yes... I need the rat man baking. This took me a bit because I’m really bad at writing short prompts but I like how it turned out! Originally, this was meant to be straight fluff but I couldn’t seem to get away from my personal headcanon that Remus stress bakes lol but its still mostly fluff with a little bit of vulnerability from the rat man <3
Cookies and Coping Mechanisms
Description: After SvSR, Remus knows that everyone is upset by the outcome of episode. His solution? Dragging a reluctant Virgil into the kitchen to make cookies.
Word Count: 1747
Characters: Remus, Virgil (Platonic Dukexiety)
Warnings: Remus-Type Content (Sexual innuendo, Allusions to Drugs, References to gore, etc.), Flirting, Swearing
---
    “Come on, Virgie. This'll be fun.”
    “Last time I heard that, you ended up on fire, Remus.” Virgil muttered as he shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, cast a cautious glance at the bouncing creative side.
    “You can't spell fun without fire!” Remus chirped happily.
     Virgil stopped in his tracks, looking up in disbelief. “Yes, you can—”
     “Not if you actually want to have fun, Gerard Gay.” Remus threw out over his shoulder as he continued his manic dive into the cupboards. Metal pans flew up to the countertop as Remus swung around to throw open another drawer with a loud clang.
    Virgil growled. His eyes darkened with exasperation as Remus tossed a bag of flour on the counter and a puff of white haze shot up into the air. “I'm so glad that Logan soundproofed the kitchen so you can as be as loud as you want.”
     “Hey, that was Roman's fault." Remus stopped digging through the fridge to point at Virgil. “He brought the firecrackers—”
     “You lit them!” Virgil threw his hands up in a gesture to the large scorch marks in front of the stove.
     “Irrelevant.” Remus purred with a playful grin. “Now preheat the oven for me, emo boy.”
    “To what?” Virgil muttered as he stalked toward the oven.
    “350 degrees, baby!”
    “Don’t call me baby.” Virgil sighed, barely looking up at the mess Remus was making as he danced around the kitchen. “I don't even know why we're doing this. Cookies can’t fix what happened.”
    “Well, it sure as hell can't hurt, Donnie Darko,” Remus winked, shooting finger guns at Virgil. “especially since we’re catering to each of them personally. Everyone can hate each other and all, but they can't hate cookies.”
    Virgil paused in confusion.  “You said we were making one batch of cookies, Remus. I didn't sign up for a whole day with—”
    “I never said we weren't. Just one batch is all we need.” Remus grinned with a teasing smile, taunting him to continue.
    “How can one batch of cookies cater to all of them?” Virgil wondered. “I mean I get Patton, but the others are a little harder to please.”
    “Don't you worry. I'll spill the beans,” Remus paused with a suggestive grin. “but first I need you to strip, Frightmare before Christmas.”
    Virgil let out an exaggerated sigh as he ducked his head to hide the redness in his cheeks. “Whatever fantasy your trying to get me play out, I won't—”
     “Lose the hoodie, Virge. Everything else is optional.” Remus interrupted, grinning suggestively as Virgil tipped his head up. “Unless—"
    “No.”
    “Fine,” Remus giggled as he gave in to Virgil. Before he walked away, he slipped a piece of paper across the table as Virgil slipped his jacket off and laid it off to the side. “It’s to get nice and toasty in here and I don’t need you looking like you just got off a sweet bender covered in a suspicious white powder when we go to deliver the goods.”
    “Okay—Okay! It’s off now.” Virgil through his hands up in exasperation as Remus wiggled his eyebrow up at him. “You can stop tormenting me.”
    “Great.” Remus cheered with a flourish of his hands as he tossed the flour at Virgil. He giggled as the bag erupted into a white puff all over Virgil, leaning into his friend’s scowl before returning to hopping about the kitchen. “Mix the dry ingredients and I'll start on the wet stuff.”
    “Great.” Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes as he straightened out his black tee and brushed the flour off himself. Reluctantly, he picked up the flour to begin as he looked up at Remus for explanation. “Now, tell me why you think this is going to make everything better.”
    “Well, Pattycake obviously loves homemade gifts—"
     “Patton is the easiest to please.” Virgil muttered as he measured the flour. “That's not an accomplishment.”
   “Yeah, well. All Roman wants is attention. The fact that we were thinking of him is enough to brighten his spirits,” Remus grinned as he started to whisk together his ingredients. “and the snake boy has a sweet tooth. He hates to admit it, but sugar is Janus’ comfort food.”
    Virgil paused. His eyes narrowed on Remus with skepticism in his eyes. “And what about Logan?”
     Remus’ grin widened as he swiped Virgil’s bowl and began combining the ingredients. “Well, we're making thumbprint cookies and—”
    “—and thumbprint cookies require jam.” Virgil deadpanned as Remus nodded. He stared blankly as the creative side finished the dough and reached below the counter.
     “Bingo, bad boy.” Remus chirped as he slid a jar of Crofter's across the table.
    Virgil eyed the jam suspiciously as he bit his lip. “Where exactly did you pull that from—”
    “Not relevant.” Remus cheered brightly as he handed Virgil a spoon and started forming the cookies. “Start scooping and don't skimp on the jam. I don't want to offend the nerdy professor.”
    “Re, this is—” Virgil stared as he followed behind Remus, dropping jam into the indents of the cookies. “—surprisingly thoughtful.”
    “So, what?” Remus grinned, raising an eyebrow at Virgil. “Can't a guy do a nice thing every once in a while?”
     Virgil blinked, trying to stifle his own shock. “You try to convince Thomas to jump out of moving cars or eat dirt at least daily. Nice things just aren’t what you’re about. Are they?”
     “Maybe, I don’t like being predictable.” Remus chuckled as he took the tray from Virgil and slipped it in the oven.
    “Holy shit,” Virgil’s mouth dropped open as Remus set the timer. “You actually care about how the others are feeling right now?”
    “What?” Remus mused, raising an eyebrow at Virgil. “Did you think I was here for my own amusement, stormy night?”
    “I mean, kinda.” Virgil dropped his hands to his side, tugging at the hem of his tee. “I didn’t know that you were capable of—"”
    “Of course, you wouldn't think so.” Remus interrupted with a bored tone, sounding exasperated.
     Virgil paused as Remus dropped his voice. The uncharacteristic serious in his friend's muted tone stopped him in his tracks and he turned back to see Remus leaned on his elbows, staring at the countertop.
    “After this last video without us, everyone's thoughts about themselves are turning to crap and I feel them spiraling just the way you do, emo boy.” Remus smirked as Virgil stared back at him with shock in his eyes. “So, yeah. I used to make Thomas repeat this recipe over and over in his head until he memorized the damn thing.”
    “You did that so you could bake for the others if they had a bad day?” Virgil blinked, shocked at the sudden change from Remus’ usual boisterous behavior.
    Remus let out a long sigh as he fidgeted with a wooden spoon in his hand, twirling it between his fingers. “You might be his anxiety, but your not the only one carrying that gnawing dread that nothing's gonna work out, Dr. Doom. If it's grating and repetitive, it shows up on my radar too.”
    “I had no idea." Virgil muttered, unsure of what else to say.
    “You can thank Janus for that one, Virgie baby.” Remus chirped, a little more upbeat as the time chimed off. “You didn’t want to know and the snake's been keeping you safe and snug as long as you been kicking.”
    “But what about you, Ree?” Virgil wondered out loud as Remus started to drop the hot cookies onto plates to cool. “Who keeps you safe?”
    “Eh, who cares?” Remus’ voice cracked slightly as he rolled his eyes. “Point is that I’ll feel icky and this’ll make that go away.”
    “Remus, that’s not—”
    “What? Healthy?” Remus purred, as he wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder and jostling him. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but I'm not Tommy-boy’s good coping mechanisms.”
    “No, but that's why Thomas works on them.” Virgil muttered as Remus released him. “I'm not exactly what Thomas wants all the time either, but he work through his issues so that I can focus on protecting him.”
   “Here’s the thing though,” Remus flashed Virgil a sharp-toothed grin as he chuckled. “My purpose ain’t quite so handy as yours, so its not worth that—”
    “You’re wrong, Remus.”
    Remus looked up in surprise at Virgil’s abrupt response. He stared for a moment at the concern in Virgil’s eyes before straightening up. “Oh?”
    “You keep Thomas grounded in reality.” Virgil shrugged as Remus looked up at him with skepticism in his eyes. “If Thomas lived his life looking Princey's rose-colored glasses, he'd be ignoring all the complex and difficult things that give life meaning.”
    Remus raised an eyebrow at him with a playful glimmer in his eyes. “So, there is creative value in ‘juicy butth—”
    “Stop,” Virgil held up a hand with a chuckle. “You know what I mean. Not everything is sunshine and sparkles. Thomas can’t ignore things just because he doesn’t like them. He needs the ability to face those things and you give him that, Remus.”
     Remus giggled, flashing a knowing smirk at Virgil. “You better be careful, Virgie. If you’re not, I might start to think you give a shit.”
    “I do.” Virgil dipped his head to hide the redness in his cheeks as Remus smirked at him. “I do, okay? Now, just shut up so we can deliver some cookies.”
    “Oh, gag me, emo boy.” Remus chuckled, barely concealing his smile as he made an over-exaggerated expression of disgust. “I didn't know you were capable of being so tooth-rottingly sweet—”
    “Just shut up." Virgil muttered half-heartedly as he smiled and took the plate Remus held out for him.
    Remus chuckled, nodding to the exit with a smirk. “Fine. How about we just deliver these top-notch sweets to our favorite depressed bitches then?”
    “Fine—” Virgil nodded reluctantly, hesitating as he followed Remus. “—and then maybe we could watch a movie or something after?”
   Remus nodded, perking up as he bounced along the hallway. “Something gory?”
    Virgil snorted as he staggered down the hallway. “Might as well. None of the other sides will watch scary movies with me anyway.”
    “It's a date then, stormy night.” Remus grinned, feeling lighter as they walked down the hall together. “You wore me down.”
    Virgil rolled his eyes, smiling as he followed the bouncing man ahead of him. “Good.”
---
General Taglist:
@justanotherhumanstuff​ @im-an-anxious-wreck
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yellowsuitcase · 4 years
Text
Oblivious - Part 1 // Draco Malfoy
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A/N: This took several days to write, I wrote one and a half other imagines before finishing this. And it’s only the first part of three! I hope you enjoy it and yes I know Fred and George would’ve left Hogwarts by now, but let’s pretend they didn’t ;) Also, to the people who’ve requested imagines, please know I’m working diligently to get them completed, I’ve been very busy lately with school as well as redoing my bedroom. But keep looking forward to them, they’re coming I promise.
Summary: Half Blood Prince era. Draco’s been sneaking away to work on fixing the vanishing cabinet. But his muggle-born Gryffindor girlfriend Y/N has been picking up on his suspicious disappearances. During their trip to Hogsmeade, something unexpected occurs.
Warning(s): SPOILERS!! Swearing, making out
Word Count: 4.2k
Part 2
Y/N skipped through the entrance to the courtyard, singing, “He was a skater boy, she said see you later, boy. He wasn’t good enough for her,” at the top of her lungs, drawing quite a few puzzled stares her way. Draco, her boyfriend, reluctantly followed behind her, his face turning crimson.
“Y/N! Y/N, please stop, people are looking,” he pleaded with her.
“Tough crowd, tough crowd,” Y/N mused, “How about, life is a highwaayy, and I wanna ride it all night long!”
People began to laugh at the Gryffindor’s performance. Draco, however, was becoming more embarrassed by the second. “Love, please, enough with the muggle songs.”
“What? You don’t like my singing, is that it?” Y/N asked while she sat down at the base of their favorite tree.
“You know I adore everything about you, just not the muggle music. What is a highway anyway?”
Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? Do you ever pay any attention in muggle studies?”
Draco gave her a sheepish grin while he rubbed the back of his neck. Y/N swatted his arm lightly with her roll of parchment she’d taken out of her school bag. “Speaking of muggle studies, I have a 25-inch essay to write. Professor Burbage wants us to compare and contrast an average muggle’s day and an average wizard’s.”
“Well, that ought to be easy, your mum and dad are muggles.”
“It’s still 25 inches, Draco, that’s quite a lot,” Y/N said exasperatedly. She huffed as she unrolled her parchment and got to work; she already had 18 inches done.
Draco admired her as she wrote. The fluffy red quill in her hand bounced with the movements of her wrist as she jotted down a sentence. She was squinting her eyes, trying to block out the sun. Her little nose was scrunched up as well as her forehead.
She was so effortlessly beautiful. The littlest things about her were the things Draco liked the most, like the way her hair framed her face, some loose strands falling from behind her ear, and shining in the sun. Or the way she rubs her eyes with both fists after yawning.
“You’re cute when you’re focused,” Draco said.
Y/N gave him a fake annoyed glare. “Well, you’re making it hard for me to focus,” she mumbled under her breath, turning her attention back to her essay while biting her lip to keep from smiling.
Draco smirked, some of his teeth showing, “Hard to focus, huh? Am I that sexy?” he asked while wiggling his eyebrows. He received a quick slap on his chest.
“Shut up! Oh my god,” Y/N said. Draco complied with her wishes and simply gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before rising to his feet.
Y/N looked up at him, puzzled. “Where are you going?”
“I just want to get to class a bit early today. I’ll see you in Dark Arts class.” 
Y/N watched as the blonde boy walked away. She thought it was quite peculiar for him to want to get to class early. Usually, he was begging her to stay with him and be a few minutes late. She tried to shrug it off; perhaps he just wanted to ask his professor a question. Y/N picked up her quill and once again began to write, pushing away the thoughts of what her boyfriend was up to.
-----------
“Perhaps Draco is just putting forth more effort into learning Herbology. The whomping willow is quite a fascinating plant.”
“Luna, I love you but come on. You can’t blame me for being a little suspicious. I mean, Herbology and Draco are like Filch and magic,” Y/N said as she and Luna walked to their next class, “it’s never going to work.” 
Luna nodded softly. “It’s a shame Filch can’t do magic. It’s so wonderful.”
“He doesn’t deserve it, he would use an unforgivable curse on a student in a heartbeat, he would.”
Y/N spared a quick glance behind her. She felt as though she was being watched. Sure enough, when her head spun around, she saw Draco. He smiled as he briskly caught up to her and Luna. He wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek. Y/N squirmed; she didn’t like people touching her neck.
Before she left to go to her own class, Luna asked, “Are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow, Y/N?”
Y/N had barely remembered that tomorrow was a Hogsmeade weekend. She tilted her head to look at Draco. “Are you going?”
Draco avoided eye contact with Y/N, but he nodded nonetheless. She turned back to Luna. “I wouldn’t miss our trip to Honeydukes now, would I?”
Luna smiled, “I don’t know, you might one day.” She shifted her bag onto her shoulder. “See you then. Goodbye, Y/N. Goodbye, Draco.” 
When Luna was out of earshot, Y/N wiggled out of Draco’s arms. 
“Do you not want to go to Hogsmeade? You don’t have to if you wouldn’t like to.”
Draco shook his head vehemently. “No, no, I’ll go. We can get butterbeer together like we always do. Now let’s get going, I suspect Snape will take 10 points from Gryffindor if you’re late.” The pair headed off to class. 
————-
Draco woke up the next morning with an uneasy feeling in his gut. Usually, his trips to Hogsmeade were enjoyable, but he knew this one would be anything but. 
He’d been given the dreadful task of murdering his headmaster, Dumbledore. He knew he was never gonna be able to do it face to face, so he’d opted for a more indirect option. He and his mother made a trip to Borgin and Burkes early that year and purchased the Opal Necklace. It was reported to have killed nineteen muggles to date. 
He glanced over to his nightstand. The necklace was wrapped in packing paper inside the bottom drawer. His stomach churned when he remembered his plan. He’d have to execute it right under Y/N’s nose. He felt so vile. Since this school year had started, he’d been keeping secrets from her. 
They loved to sit in the courtyard under their tree, often Y/N would fall asleep on his shoulder, and Draco always felt terrible when he had to maneuver her to the grass so he could sneak away to the Room of Requirement. But there’d be consequences if he failed to fix the vanishing cabinet, and he wasn’t about to waste any free time he had. And if that meant keeping secrets and slipping away from his girlfriend, then that’s what he had to do. 
“Goyle, what time is it?” Draco asked.
“Uhh bout half-past nine. Why?” 
“Shit,” he muttered. He was already thirty minutes late for breakfast. Y/N would start to worry if he didn’t show up soon. Mentally preparing himself for the day ahead, he shoved his blanket off and swung his legs to the side of his bed. He opted for his classic black suit. He made sure to stuff the necklace, still wrapped, into the inner pocket of his jacket.
“What’s that, Malfoy?”
Draco snapped his head to glare at Crabbe. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he spat with an aggrieved look upon his face. He put on his shoes and strode out of the Slytherin dorms. Soon enough, he arrived at the Great Hall. His eyes located Y/N’s instantly. They were filled with worry, but relief overtook them when they met Dracos. She beckoned him over with a wave of her hand.
Once he sat down, he was engulfed in a tight hug. 
“Whoa there darling, is everything alright?” he asked.
“I’m just excited, it’s been a while since the last Hogsmeade weekend. I’m craving butterbeer, aren’t you?” she asked, her eyes danced animatedly with anticipation. 
Draco smiled, “You’re too cute, you are,” he said before he kissed her rosy cheek.
“Are you going out dressed like that? You know it’ll be snowy in Hogsmeade,” Y/N asked. She was dressed in a maroon sweater and black jeans; to her left, she had laid her coat and her Gryffindor scarf and hat. 
“I’ll be sure to fetch my coat before we leave,” he assured her. 
“You’d better go now, we leave for Hogsmeade in fifteen minutes,” said Luna, making Draco aware of her presence. He heeded her words and stood up from the table. 
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
Draco bit his lip. He really didn’t think he could stomach anything at the moment, but he didn’t want to upset Y/N. 
“I’ll save room for butterbeer. Meet me outside?” he asked. She nodded despite the reluctant look on her face. Draco didn’t stay for a moment longer. He turned on his heel and hurried off to his common room. 
“He seems troubled,” Luna stated. 
“I’m glad you’ve noticed it as well. The bags under his eyes get darker every day, it seems.”
“Perhaps he should brew a sleeping draught potion.”
“I don’t think he’d like the idea of sleeping for so long. He’s definitely racing the clock, trying to complete something. The question is what,” Y/N wondered aloud, her face twisted in thought.
"I've seen him coming out of the Room of Requirement. Maybe he's been doing something in there," Luna suggested.
"You have? When? Did he look-," Y/N was interrupted by a voice behind her.
“You coming to Hogsmeade, Y/N?” When she turned around, Hermione was standing there, eyebrows raised. 
“Yeah, I am. Why?”
“Is Draco coming with you?” she asked.
“Yes, but why does that matter to you? I thought you didn’t like him,” Y/N said in a bit of an accusatory tone. What did it matter to Hermione whether or not Draco was going to Hogsmeade?
Hermione looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uh, no reason. Just curious is all. See you there then.” Then she ran off, presumably to find Ron and Harry.
“What is going on around here?” Y/N asked nobody in particular. 
“There are so many things taking place at once, but I think we all find out about them one way or another,” Luna said. 
“I hope so.”
-----------
Draco did his best to smile while he and Y/N strolled through Hogsmeade. It hardly worked, though. She was beaming with joy, and he was melancholy. All he could think about was the task ahead of him. His plan was to sneak away from Y/N in the Three Broomsticks and find Madam Rosmerta. He would then imperio her to deliver the necklace to Dumbledore. 
It wasn’t like he wanted to cast an unforgivable curse, but there wouldn’t be any other way to get the package to Dumbledore without raising suspicion. He had to do this.
“Where do you want to go first?” Y/N asked, pulling Draco out of his thoughts. 
“Wherever you’d like to go, love,” he replied, not missing a beat.
She sighed, “I asked you where you want to go. Pick a place.”
Draco smirked, “How about the Shrieking Shack,” he said in a naughty tone.
“Draco,” she said in a condescending tone. “You know we’re not allowed in there.”
“Yes, but we could sneak in.”
Y/N shook her head, “Draco, do you really want to have detention tomorrow?”
“Oh, don’t be such a party pooper. Don’t you wonder what’s inside it?”
“Nope,” she said matter of factly.
“You’re telling me you’re not even the slightest bit curious?”
“Not at all.”
“Oh, I see now, you’re scared of it. You’re scared of a shack.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. End of discussion,” Draco said. 
“End of discussion? You don’t just get to end our conversation,” Y/N yelled. But before she could give her boyfriend a flick on the head, he began to run. “Hey! Don’t you run from me, Malfoy!”
He turned his head to see her start to chase after him. She was giggling as she was jogging, her smile brighter than the fresh snow on the ground. Draco loved her smile.
He led her through twists and turns, nearly running into several people before he found his destination. He slowly came to a stop and waited for Y/N to catch up. He grabbed her hand and yanked her to his chest when she caught up. She squealed when he did this. 
“How are you so fit? I nearly died just then,” Y/N said, bent over and panting.
Draco laughed, “You alright there, darling?”
She glared at him, “Where did you take us, anyway?” She answered her own question when she took her hands off her knees and looked around. She spotted the shack instantly.
“Draco, I don't know what you’re thinking, but I’m not going in there.”
“Oh come on, don’t be such a wuss,” he said while grabbing her hand. She reluctantly followed him as he went over to the fence. He put his hands on the top rail and lifted his right leg to plant his foot on the middle one. He gathered his strength and pushed himself up and over the fence. Once on the other side, he brushed himself off and turned to face Y/N.
“Right. Your turn now, love.”
“You made it look so easy,” she grumbled. But she put her hands on the fence anyway. She tried to copy what she’d seen Draco do, but when she tried, she found she didn’t have the strength. 
“You got it, just swing your legs over,” Draco instructed. 
Y/N nodded and attempted to do what he said. She stood on the bottom rail and grasped the top in her hands. Unsure of herself, she looked at Draco.
“Come on, hop on over.”
She nodded and climbed to the top of the fence. She bent her arms and launched herself over the wooden rails. Y/N realized halfway through the jump that things were about to end badly. Draco wasn’t able to move fast enough and could only watch as her right foot twisted when she landed. 
She let out a yelp and fell to the snowy ground. Draco rushed over to her and began to take off her boot. 
“I’ve sprained it. I know I have,” she said, gritting her teeth in pain. 
Draco ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve just taken you to get butterbeer.”
“We still can, I think you’ll need to carry me though,” she said while chuckling. 
Draco momentarily looked away from her swollen ankle to look at her face. Somehow, despite the pain she must’ve been in, she was smiling at him.
“You never fail to amaze me, you know that?” he asked her.
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “How so?” 
Before Draco could answer, his attention was stolen by two redheads.
“Y/N? Is that you? What’s Malfoy done to you?” Fred Weasley called out.
“Yeah, Malfoy, what’d you do to her?” George chimed in. 
Y/N rolled her eyes. “What do you think they’re doing here?” she asked her boyfriend.
“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care.”
Fred and George had made their way to the couple. “What’s happened?” George asked.
“Well, I tried to jump the fence, and it didn’t go so well,” Y/N chuckled. 
The twins laughed along with her. “That does sound like something you’d do,” Fred remarked.
“Yes, yes, it’s all very funny, but she’s got a sprained ankle by the looks of it,” Draco said, interrupting the laughter to remind them of the situation at hand. He reached under Y/N’s arms and gently helped her to her feet. She winced when she had to put pressure on her ankle. Draco felt guilt pool in his stomach. He went to jump back over the fence but was stopped short. 
“Malfoy, why don’t you lift her up from that side,” said Fred.
 “And then we can help her over,” George finished.
“Yeah, that’ll be easier,” Y/N agreed. She looked at Draco to see if he, too, thought the same. He nodded and gripped her hips. 
“1...2...3!” He lifted her up and sat her atop the highest rail. He held her steady as the twins helped maneuver her legs to the other side. They then helped her down, being careful not to let her put pressure on her injured foot.
Draco hastily climbed up the fence and hopped down, “I can take it from here,” he said sternly. He crouched down in front of Y/N, allowing her to climb onto his back. Once he knew she was secure, he straightened his legs and started walking. 
Y/N turned her head, “Thank you guys!” she called to the twins. 
“You could’ve thanked them, you know, you would’ve had a hell of a time getting me over that fence without them.”
Draco scoffed. “I would’ve managed just fine without the Weasleys.”
His girlfriend sighed. “I know you don’t like them, but geez, can’t you swallow your pride for one second?”
Draco didn’t reply, opting to remain silent as he trudged back to Hogsmeade.
-------
The pair sat inside the Three Broomsticks, now toasty warm and anxiously awaiting what was to come. For Y/N, it was butterbeer, but for Draco, it was something much less enticing. 
The feeling of the package against his breast made his heart race. He wished he could’ve just enjoyed a drink with his lover, but bigger things were expected of him that day. His eyes hardly left Madam Rosmerta. He was tracking her movements, waiting for the perfect moment to present itself.
“And so I told her that I had no idea what she was talking about. I mean, did she seriously expect me to confess to that? But anyway after that she-,” Y/N stopped talking when she realized the boy sitting across from her was paying absolutely no attention to her story. 
She reached for his hand. “Draco, what’s wrong? Something’s bothering you, I can see it on your face.”
He shook his head, dismissively. “I’m fine, what were you saying?”
Y/N frowned. “Nothing important. But uhm, anyway, what are you doing tomorrow? Maybe we could borrow some broomsticks from Madam Hooch and fly around the pitch,” she suggested. But Draco still wasn’t attentive to her words. He wasn’t even looking at her.
“I’ll be right back, don’t move,” he said, suddenly jumping to his feet. He strode away from their table without looking back. Y/N felt her heart sink. Why wasn’t he paying attention to her?
She decided to pass the time by tracing her finger on the cracks and lines embedded in the wooden table. She grew increasingly bored the longer Draco was absent. Until she heard a familiar voice. Upon raising her head, she saw the trio. Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They sat at the table behind her. She decided to turn around and make conversation as Draco still hadn’t returned.
“Hi, guys, what’s up?”
“Oh, hey Y/N. Nothing much, how about you?” Ron asked.
“Oh, you know, not much, just spraining ankles,” she said sarcastically. 
Ron looked at her with a puzzled expression. His eyes drifted to her foot. “Blimey, Y/N, what did you do?”
Hermione took notice as well. “Are you alright? Should I fetch a professor?”
“No, no, that’s alright, it’s only a sprain. Madam Pomfrey will be able to fix it right up when I return. Thank you, though,” she smiled.
“How’d you manage to sprain it, though?” Harry inquired.
“Oh well, long story short, I tried to jump a fence, and it didn’t end so well,” Y/N said with a slight chuckle. “Actually, Ron, your brothers helped Draco get me back over the fence.”
Ron smiled, “Glad to hear it,” after he spoke, his facial expression changed to one of confusion. 
“You mentioned Draco, where is he?”
Y/N sighed and did a once-over of the pub. “He ran off a little while ago, I’ve got no idea where he is. He said he’d be right back.”
Hermione looked at her sympathetically. “He’ll be back...probably.”
“Oh! There he is,” Ron said. Y/N turned her head back around to see Draco emerging from around the corner. He and Harry made eye contact. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Draco rushed over to Y/N.
“Let’s go, I want to stop at Dervish and Banges,” he said while reaching behind her back and underneath her knees. 
“What? We haven’t even gotten our butterbeer. Draco put me down. Put me down!”
Draco glared at her, fury in his eyes. “Don’t make a scene,” he snapped. This shut Y/N right up. She didn’t protest when he carried her out of the pub. He didn’t stop walking until he reached a bench in an empty passageway. He sat her down first and then took the spot next to her.
“What was that about? What’s going on, Draco?” Y/N asked; she was fed up.
Draco panicked. He didn’t have a lie prepared, but he knew he couldn’t get away with not answering her. Not anymore. 
He said the first thing that came to mind. “It’s my dad. He’s been bothering me a lot lately.”
This was true. Draco’s dad had been pestering him with multiple owls a day, always asking for updates on the cabinet. It was quite frankly driving him mad.
“He keeps sending me owls, he won’t leave me alone,” Y/N held his hand and ran her thumb up and down the top of it. “I left you at the table so I could apparate home. He was expecting me.”
She stopped her soothing motion. “You can apparate that far!? Successfully?” she asked, shocked at her boyfriend’s abilities.
He nodded. “My father requested Professor Twycross give me private lessons. That’s where I’ve been running off to lately.”
Draco felt bile rise in his throat. He hated lying to Y/N, but it had to be done. He couldn’t get her involved in his death eater business. It would be better for both of them if she remained oblivious.
“Well, I’m glad you finally told me. I’ll be here if you ever want to rant about him. He sure has been causing you a lot of stress lately, hasn’t he?”
He nodded and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. Oh, how he wished he could tell her. “Thank you, love. I appreciate that.”
She smiled and went in for a kiss. He passionately kissed her back. He wanted to focus his energy on her now, to try to make up for all the times he’d neglected her.
Draco held her face with one hand while the other traveled to her hip. Without warning, he squeezed it, causing Y/N to yelp and thus open her mouth, which allowed Draco to sneak his tongue inside. He let out a groan, running his fingers through her hair and gripping it slightly.
They were interrupted by the sound of nearby laughter. Draco reluctantly pulled away; he knew how Y/N felt about kissing in public. She gave him a soft smile, her face flushed, and her lips swollen.
“I can’t believe you,” she giggled. He grinned and gave her another kiss, this one just a quick peck.
“I love you, you know,” he said.
She hummed happily. “I do know. And I love you too, Mr. Malfoy.”
Draco laughed and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, prompting Y/N to push him away playfully. “Stopppp,” she whined.
“Alright, alright. I think it’s about time we head back to Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey needs to fix my angel’s ankle.”
“That she does,” Y/N said. She raised her arms and made grabby hands at Draco as he stood up. He laughed at her antics. 
“Up,” she demanded. He complied and lifted her into his arms. She immediately nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and sighed contently. 
He carried her all the way out of Hogsmeade and halfway through the path to Hogwarts before it happened. About ten yards in front of them, Katie Bell rose into the air. Her mouth was wide open as if something was sucking the breath out of her. Draco felt his heart stop. Y/N noticed he’d stopped walking, and she lifted her head to look at him. He looked terrified. She followed his gaze just in time to see Katie fall to the ground. She gasped, and her eyes widened; she didn’t believe what she saw. 
“Draco, we have to see what’s going on, take us over there,” she said.
But Draco had already seen what had caused Katie to float twenty feet in the air. The necklace. It was on the snow, its wrappings flapping in the freezing wind. 
He ignored his girlfriend’s wishes and instead hurried down the path to his left. It was the long way back to Hogwarts.
“Draco! What are you doing?” Y/N asked. She began to struggle in his grip, Draco wasn’t expecting this, and he dropped her. She screamed in pain; he’d dropped her on her bad ankle. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry Y/N, please just let me take you back to Hogwarts, it’s not safe here,” he pleaded with her.
She glared at him and then looked behind her. Hagrid was now holding Katie in his arms. Y/N knew she’d be safe with Hagrid.
Draco let out a sigh of relief when she raised her arms, signaling she wished to be picked up again. “Thank you, love,” he said as he brought her back into his arms. “Thank you.”
220 notes · View notes
freddie-weaselbee · 4 years
Text
A Whole New World//F.W.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst to fluff, symptoms of depression, mentions of depression, minor character death (only mentioned), language, honestly it’s really cute once you get into it trust me
Summary: “Do you trust me?” After constantly pestering Y/N and finally making her explode with anger, Fred decides to try to make her smile again, in the most extravagant way possible. 
Word Count: 4.4k
Song: A Whole New World from Aladdin
A/N: Apparently I’m a sucker for the astronomy tower I didn’t even realize until I wrote this that it takes place in the same place as my last fic, but oh well. Also I would literally sell my soul to be able to reenact this with someone, preferably Fred. Also also I’m making a taglist so message me if you wanna be on it!
The astronomy tower was one of your favorite places to visit when you were upset. Something about the way the infinite number of stars continued to shine down made you feel more at peace. It made you believe that maybe there was a plan for everything, and it would all work out eventually. 
It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend most of your recent nights watching the sky glimmer with specks of light. The past few months had been hard on you, and you felt an increasing need to escape as much as you could. Your friends noticed, but they didn’t know how to help. You were usually so upbeat and happy, always helping others rather than being vulnerable enough to admit that you needed some help yourself. Which is why you would spend hours each night, alone with your thoughts and dejection. 
Tears rolled down your eyes as the events of the day came back to you. 
It took everything you had just to get out of bed. Your dorm mate had tried to wake you up several times, but she eventually gave up and allowed you to rest a little longer. You rolled onto your side and stared at a picture that was hanging on the wall. It was a family picture from years ago, when you were just a little gap toothed girl. Your mom was holding you in her arms and your dad had his arm wrapped around your mom’s shoulder. There was only one other person in the picture, but it hurt your heart too much to look at the old man smiling down at little you. 
After letting a few tears lose, you decided to start your day a couple hours late. You had a Potions exam that you needed to do well on, or else your dreams of becoming a Healer would be a lot harder to achieve. 
You rolled out of bed and put on your uniform followed by fixing your hair and putting on some light makeup. You used to put a decent amount of effort into how you looked, wanting to practice your eyeliner skills and try out new hairstyles. But recently it just seemed like too much work for no reward. The bags under your eyes remained visible as you walked to your Potions class. 
The day didn’t get better. 
You skipped lunch and decided to take a nap instead. You curled up in your bed and shut your eyes tight, trying to calm the anxiety that was racing through your body. Your mind began to wander and you started wondering what your friends were doing at the moment, and if you were missing out on something fun. You wanted to join them and be a part of whatever was happening, but you just didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. It wasn’t until you were forced to get up for your next class that you left the silence of your room. 
Transfiguration was a class you had with most of your friends, which made it difficult for you to avoid questioning. 
“Y/N, where were you during lunch today?” your friend asked. She seemed concerned, but didn’t know what to say to the sulking mess who was usually so lively and energetic. 
You shrugged and gave a forced smile. “Just tired, didn’t get much sleep last night.”
She nodded, not believing you but figuring that you weren’t going to tell her the truth any time soon. 
You turned your attention to McGonagall’s lecture, but you were distracted almost immediately with a balled up piece of paper that landed on your lap. You looked around the room before making eye contact with Fred Weasley, who gestured for you to open the note. 
You did and scoffed at the message scrawled in messy handwriting. 
‘Hey love, you’re looking a little glum today. How about spending the night in my dorm and we’ll see if I can make you feel better? ;)’
Normally you would’ve playfully flirted back with the ginger troublemaker, but you weren’t in the mood today. You hadn’t been in the mood in months. 
Shaking your head you crumpled up the paper and let it fall to the ground. It wasn’t long before another one landed on your desk. 
You rolled your eyes and you opened this one. 
‘C’mon, don’t be so grumpy. You know you want me.’
This letter you ripped up, letting the scraps dramatically spill all around you. If there was one thing Fred wasn’t good at, it was reading the room. You just wanted to focus on the lesson and spend the rest of your night alone in your dorm. 
A third letter hit you in the back of your head. You almost turned around and screamed at Fred, but instead you picked up the note and sat in on your desk. You didn’t want to give Fred the satisfaction of opening the letter, but your curiosity got the best of you. And of course with your luck it all blew up in your face. Literally. 
A small explosion came from the letter the second you opened to read it, painting your face a scorched black and singeing the ends of your hair. You didn’t even have time to react before you were being yelled at by your favorite teacher. 
“Miss Y/L/N!” McGonagall was glaring at you down the bridge of her nose, giving you a look that she only reserved for the worst troublemakers. It made you feel like shit. “Detention, tomorrow night for disrupting my lesson. Please keep your antics to yourself next time.”
“But professor--” She interrupted you by putting her hand up. 
“Don’t argue, Miss Y/L/N. Tomorrow night.” 
Your face fell and you buried your head in your hands, trying to hold back sobs that were rising in your throat. As class ended you gathered your things and practically sprinted out of the room, ignoring the cries from your friend. 
You didn’t get too far before you were spun around by large hands that gripped your shoulders. Fred was towering over you, a proud grin spreading across his face as if he had just won the lottery. 
“You should’ve seen your face, darling, absolutely priceless.”
He reluctantly let go of you as you struggled in his hold, avoiding eye contact with the boy. “I don’t want to talk to you right now Fred, I just want to go to my room.”
“You’re in your room all the time!” he exclaimed. He wasn’t wrong. “Just lighten up a little and take a joke.”
You sighed and began to walk back to your dorm, ignoring his complaints. 
“C’mon, Y/N, who died and made you all depressed?”
That was it. 
You spun around and came storming back toward Fred, who now looked as though he regretted ever saying anything. “Do you really want to know Fred? Do you really feel the need to relentlessly bother me when it’s painfully obvious that I don’t want to talk to you?”
You had backed him into a wall and he was holding his hands up in defense. 
“Today has been awful. I could barely get out of bed this morning, and the only reason I did was because I had a Potions test, which I likely failed! I have no motivation to do anything, which means I go to my room and miss out on everything fun, which only makes me more upset.”
Tears were streaming down your face as you screamed at Fred, all of your pent up anger finally coming out. 
“And not that it’s any of your business, Frederick--” you poked his chest as you said his full name, something you only did when you were mad at him, “--but my grandpa died and made me all depressed. Three weeks ago. And I’ve felt like absolute shit ever since. So please, for the love of Godric just leave me alone for two fucking minutes!”
Fred’s face was adorned with a shocked expression, which softened immediately. You hadn’t told anyone about your grandpa, not wanting to deal with pitiful glances being thrown your way. Fred had no idea that you were going through so much, and seeing you finally break because of him broke his heart. 
But you didn’t give him any time to respond before you turned on your heel and marched back to your room, feeling worse than you had ever felt in your life. 
You knew it wasn’t Fred’s fault. You had chosen not to tell anyone about what you were going through, and you assumed he was only trying to lighten your spirits. However with everything that had been going on you needed some time to think and deal with your emotions on your own. It was the only way you knew how. 
Your thoughts were interrupted by someone behind you clearing their throat. You turned your head to see the outline of a tall ginger boy, standing at the top of the astronomy tower stairs. 
“What do you want Fred?” Your voice cracked as you spoke and you quickly turned to stare at the sky again, hoping your friend wouldn’t be able to see how upset you were. 
When you didn’t hear a response you spared another glance behind you, but Fred was gone. You stood up and looked around. Surely he wouldn’t just appear out of nowhere and then disappear seconds later. You leaned against the railing of the tower, the only thing separating you from the endless night sky. 
A scream erupted from your throat as something rose up to face you, hovering in the air. Fred was standing eye level with you, but he was...floating? 
“How are you…”
You looked over the edge and gasped at the sight before you. Fred was standing on a large carpet that he must’ve snagged from the Gryffindor common room. From the looks of it, it had been enchanted to fly and it was doing a fine job of fulfilling its duties. 
Fred laughed at your surprised expression as he reached a hand out. You stepped back, still wanting to be alone for the time being. But maybe you had been alone for long enough. 
“What is this Fred? What’s going on?” 
He didn’t respond, but rather moved closer and stretched his hand out a little farther. “Do you trust me?”
The whole scene reminded you of your favorite movie, which had just come out last year. You remembered watching Aladdin with your grandpa, memorizing every song and occasionally singing or humming the lyrics once you returned to Hogwarts. There was no way Fred’s actions were coincidental, he had to have planned this. 
No matter how upset you were, you weren’t going to give up the chance to reenact one of your favorite movie scenes, so with hesitation you grabbed his hand and wobbled onto the magic carpet that was hovering hundreds of feet in the air. 
“You ready, love?” Fred’s voice was calm and soothing, so unlike his normal persona. You gave him a tiny smile and nodded, holding onto the tassels of the rug for dear life.
Fred nodded back and scooted closer to you. “Hold on tight princess.” You grabbed his right arm and squeezed, letting him know you were ready to go.
With a flick of his wand the carpet took off and you were suddenly flying through the cool night air at racing speeds. You’d ridden on a broom before but this was something completely different. This time didn’t have to worry about working your core to stay on or try to ignore the uncomfortable position you were in. With this, you could just breathe and take in the moment. 
Fred looked over at you and grinned as he saw your amazed face. You closed your eyes and put your hands out, letting yourself be overcome with the feeling of soaring through the air. Without warning the carpet jerked to one side, causing you to scream and grip back onto Fred’s arm. 
“What was that for?” you exclaimed. He laughed and tried to pry your arms off of him, choosing to wrap his arm around your shoulder instead. 
“Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Now are you ready?”
You looked at him quizzically, wondering what else he could have in store for you. Fred cleared his throat and you saw a small blush appear on his face. He took in a deep breath and did something you never expected Fred Weasley to do. 
He started singing. 
“I can show you the world, shining shimmering--why are you laughing at me?!” You were bent over into his chest, heaving with laughter at his display. It’s not that he was a bad singer, on the contrary in fact. But you had definitely not expected him to start singing A Whole New World while you were flying across the Hogwarts grounds on a literal magic carpet. 
“I’m--I’m s-sorry Freddie,” you choked out through laughs, “it’s v-very nice. Fantastic job!”
He could hear the sarcasm dripping from your voice and he put on a faux glare. “Y/N, I did not listen to you sing this bloody song every single day and memorize all of the words simply from paying attention to your voice for you to not be my Jasmine and sing back.” He crossed his arms and huffed and your giggles slowly died down. 
You felt a blush appear on your face as you realized how much effort he had put into this. Memorizing the entire song from only your humming and occasional lyrics? The least you could do was humor the boy. 
“Fine,” you said playfully, rolling your eyes, “go ahead again. I promise I won’t laugh.”
He gave you an unbelieving look. 
“I promise I won’t laugh a lot.”
Fred nodded and cleared his throat once again. “I can show you the world, shining shimmering splendid!”
He cupped your chin in his hand and gave you a wink. “Tell me princess, now when did you last let your heart decide.”
The carpet dipped and you screamed as the two of you soared downwards before leveling out again. 
“I can open your eyes,” he began once again. “Take you wonder by wonder. Over, sideways and under--” as he sang each word the carpet twisted to perform the respective move, “on a magic carpet ride. A whole new world!”
He sat on his knees and spread his arms to the sky, screaming the lyrics and letting the wind whip his ginger hair around his face. Although you were speeding through the clouds and any wrong move would likely end in you falling to your death, all you could focus on was him. 
“A new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we’re only dreaming…” Fred was looking back at you, holding his hands in yours. He leaned in to you and you sucked in a breath, leaning toward him as well. But what you had been assuming would happen did not, and Fred leaned in to whisper in your ear. 
“That’s your cue, love.” It took you a second to realize what he was saying but when you did you nodded fervently, hoping Fred didn’t notice you mistaking his actions for an attempt at a kiss. Before you could overthink everything and make it even more awkward you sat up and belted out your lines. 
“A whole new world! A dazzling place I never knew.” You moved toward the front of the carpet and Fred grabbed your waist holding you up as you spread your arms and stared at the endless sky. “But when I’m way up here, it’s crystal clear, that now I’m in a whole new world…”
You hesitated before saying the next two words, suddenly very aware of the tight grip Fred’s rough hands had on your waist. “With you…”
You turned your head to see Fred beaming at you, and he moved you back so the two of you were once again sitting side by side. You sang the next verse as the two of you flew over the Forbidden Forest. The terrifying collection of dark trees and plants now seemed so small, so miniscule when you were soaring over it instead of walking through it. 
It was almost time for the duet portion of the song, but before you could start you were cut off by Fred’s finger on your lips. “Alright, love, now we switch. I want to be Jasmine!”
You giggled at the child that was Fred Weasley, but it was his kiddish behavior that always drew you to him. “Well you have the body for it,” you teased, poking his stomach. He poked you back and it made you flinch, seeing as how he hit a ticklish spot. His eyes widened when he realized the opportunity he had, and his fingers attacked your sides while both of you tried to sing your new parts. 
“A whole new world--”
“Don’t you dare close your eyes.” He covered his eyes as you sang this for effect and you had to use all of your strength to remove his hands from his face, which ended with you intertwining your fingers in his. 
“A hundred thousand things to see--”
“Hold your breath it gets better.”
Fred finally halted his tickling as he belted his next line straight into your ear. “I’m like a shooting star, I’ve come so far, I can’t go back to where I used to be…”
You threw your legs over his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as the two of you giggled like schoolchildren. Something about laughing with Fred always made you feel carefree and young. Like you didn’t constantly have the entire world dragging you down. It was intoxicating. 
You ruffled his hair and screamed the lyrics at the top of your lungs. “A whole new world!”
Fred saw this as a competition, and he decided he just had to one up you in noise. “Every turn a surprise!”
“With new horizons to pursue!”
“Every moment red letter!”
At this point both of you were shouting as loud as you possibly could, so loud that you knew at least someone on the Hogwarts grounds would be able to hear you, but neither of you cared. He took his other hand in yours as you screeched the next words simultaneously. 
“I’ll chase them everywhere, there’s time to spare, let me share this whole new world with you!” Fred steered the carpet downwards to a grove that you had never noticed before. He swept through the trees and swiftly grabbed an apple from a tree above before tossing it to you. It was something straight out of the movie and you had to wonder how in the world he had this so well prepared. 
He pulled you in tighter by the waist and started to sing again, transitioning back to Aladdin’s part. His voice was much softer than it had been before, almost sweet and loving. “A whole new world…”
You lowered your voice to match his. “A whole new world…”
“That’s where we’ll be…”
“That’s where we’ll be…” You could tell that Fred was maneuvering the two of you back toward the grand Hogwarts castle but you didn’t want this moment to end so soon. 
His thumb brushed your cheek. “A thrilling chase…”
Your hand moved to his chest, feeling his toned muscles underneath his infamous Weasley jumper. “A wondrous place…”
“For you and me…”
You stared into each other’s eyes, holding each other tightly and letting out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding as you finally finished the song. Neither of you said a word as Fred guided the carpet back to the astronomy tower and helped you down onto the floor. You slipped and fell into his chest, but he was quick to steady you and hold you tight in his arms. 
Your eyes wandered up the tall redhead’s body, illuminated by the dim glow of the night stars. “What...what in the world was that?” you asked incredulously. 
Fred only laughed and pulled you to sit down next to him, legs dangling off the side of the tower. “I guess that was my way of apologizing.”
“Not even an actual ‘I’m sorry’ is good enough for you Weasley?” you teased, making Fred give you a guilty look. 
“I am really sorry, Y/N. I...I had no idea what was happening, and I was just getting tired of not seeing you ever. I guess I thought you were avoiding me and I wanted to get your attention, even if that meant being a complete arse.” His guilty look only grew as he confessed the reasoning behind his actions. “I’m really sorry, love. But I want you to know that I’m always here for you. You don’t have to go through things alone.”
You sighed heavily and leaned your head against his shoulder. His arm found its familiar place around your shoulder and you shuffled so that you were closer to him. 
“It’s not your fault. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. I don’t want people to pity me, or to think that I should try to get over it. I don’t want everyone to say that I should stop feeling like this when there are so many people that have it so much worse.” Your voice shook with every word that poured out of your mouth. You had never told anyone that before, always keeping your burdens to yourself and burying them deep inside. 
Fred grabbed your shoulder with his other hand and brought you into a hug, letting you sob quietly into his chest. “Darling, you should never feel as though your feelings aren’t valid. You have every right to be upset, and I want to be there for you, if you’ll let me.” 
You hummed into his jumper, taking in the scent of cinnamon and gunpowder. It had grown to become one of your favorite smells. “You know, that movie was one of my grandpa’s favorites.”
Fred nodded but stayed quiet, trying to hide his joy that you were finally opening up to someone. 
“We watched it nonstop last summer. He told me he loved princess Jasmine. Said she had spunk, just like--” your voice hitched in your throat, “--just like me.”
Your best friend began stroking your hair softly, occasionally twirling a strand in his long fingers. “I didn’t know,” he finally said. “I just knew you loved the movie, and I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it.”
You gave a small laugh at his words and he tilted your chin up so that you could see the concern in his eyes. “Hey, I’m serious. I love you, Y/N. You’re...you’re a great friend.”
The warm feeling inside your chest that had begun when Fred started talking had suddenly died down. You were friends. Just a great friend of his. 
“I don’t know Freddie,” you teased, “the way you were singing to me out there made it seem like I was a little more than a friend to you.” 
You were only joking, but Fred was immediately silent, turning to stare down at his hands. “I, uh, I may have gotten a little bit caught up in the moment,” he stuttered. His nervousness caught you off guard, as it was so unlike the confident prankster to be so tense. 
“So you really memorized that song, recreated specific scenes from the movie, and took time to enchant a magic carpet to fly me across the skyline, just to make me feel better?”
He chuckled nervously, slightly embarrassed about all of the effort he put in. “When have I been known to be simple with these kinds of things, love?”
“Never,” you scoffed. Feeling a bit of a courage course through your veins you reached to grab his hand, intertwining it with yours. Fred squeezed your hand back and you moved to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the sweetest person I know, Freddie. You may be a little dumb and over the top sometimes, but you’re sweet.”
Fred smiled down at you and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently decided against it last minute. You decided to give this one more chance. 
“Fred? Can I...can I kiss you?”
The words were barely out of your mouth when his lips gently touched yours, drawing you into the softest kiss you could imagine. Your lips moved in sync, slowly at first but quickly picking up a little speed. After what felt like an eternity you had to come up to catch your breath, tugging on his bottom lip as you moved away. 
The two of you just stared at each other before you let out a small giggle. “Oi!” Fred exclaimed. “You think snogging me is funny? Wow, I think I’ll have to take those privileges away from you, you selfish girl.”
“Oh no, don’t deprive me of that Weasley, I couldn’t live without you.” He shoved your arm playfully and you spoke again. “I just think it’s funny that it took me cursing you out after class and an extravagant musical number for you to finally kiss me. And even then I had to initiate it! For a Gryffindor you really are a chicken sometimes.”
He responded by pressing his lips to yours again, this time in a shorter but just as passionate kiss. “I was getting around to it, I just didn’t want to take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state,” he said as his excuse. 
“Well I can tell you now, love,” you said, “this has nothing to do with my ‘vulnerable state.’ I’ve been in love with you forever, I was just too scared to say anything.”
“Ah, so you’re the real chicken then.” 
You relented, not wanting this perfect moment to turn into another argument between you and the twin. “Yeah, I’m the chicken, and you can be the prince that swoops in and steals the chicken away on a magic carpet.”
He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only if the chicken turns into my beautiful princess by the end. Y/N, will you be my princess?”
You bit your lip trying to hold back a scream of pure happiness. Something you hadn’t felt in months. “Of course Freddie, I’m yours.”
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Text
My Pinecest
by angelilith
The right words," was the last thing he had said to her.
"You don't measure your words, you don't use the right words and even less to express what you feel."
But what precisely was it that he felt? If he dug deep inside his mind he felt the sweat on his hands the moment he opened the locker, his heart racing and in the end he just dropped his head inside it to lose himself in his garbage.
The days had been long, especially amidst the questions of all the curious as to why the surprise breakup with her boyfriend Demian had not been so formal but after a couple of months things were shaky between them. Or according to him, between herself.
Mabel was drowning between the corridors thinking if someone perhaps, could also think the same as he did. Although they had made an agreement that they would say it was a mutual decision, she knew it wasn't, that Demian had his reasons, his good reasons for ending it all, as much as he loved her, and that she claimed to feel the same way. To him, it was a lie.
She never measured her words, much less her feelings.
Worst of all is when that anguish could not even appear at home, from being seen between curious eyes, to that of his parents or his brother who also wondered the same thing. She could go through stray bullets of uninteresting questions and issues, in teenage matters as her mom excused, but with Dipper things were different.
Where were her feelings? She wondered over and over again in the wee hours of the morning, tossing and turning in her bed, seeing if it was right to send a message to Demian, if talking to him again would help. Who else but she could help her in those wee hours of the morning? Where it seems like everyone is asleep, and she is the only stranger who is invaded by so many crazy ideas, and none of them seem to be right.
At that moment a soft knock on her door brought her out of it all, setting her phone aside, she shuffled her feet, finding her twin on the other side, full of worry.
- Are you all right? - He asked the moment he saw her
- Y- Yes... Why do you ask? I thought you were sleeping, by the time it's .....
- I can hear between the walls the noise that you make....
She lowered her head apologetically and wished him good night, trying to close the door, wanting to end that conversation quickly.
- Wait! - Quickly Dipper stopped the door - I couldn't sleep either, what happened at school?
- What do you mean? It's all good...
- I mean with Demian....
That question she had dodged it many times, more coming from her brother, where no matter what she would say, he would quickly realize that she would lie, and the truth at that moment even she didn't have it, because her now ex-boyfriend had only left her more doubts than something for granted, she didn't hate him or anything. But it wasn't right either.
- Only term...
- Just a term? That's all?
- Dip... I'm really tired, I really want to sleep...
- It didn't seem like a few minutes ago...! - His brother's voice grew louder with every word he uttered.
Dipper hated it when Mabel avoided him like that, when she wasn't honest with him, and even more so when something affected him and he couldn't help her, and this was one of those situations.
- Just go to sleep
- Answer me! Why don't you want to be honest with me?
- What do you care about this?
- You are not well, I have been feeling it for days and I want to help you!
- You help me by leaving me alone!
It was the last thing he said before Dipper gave up his arm and the door slammed shut.
Silence took over everything after that. Between Mabel's insomnia, and until the next day, during breakfast, class hours, lunch alone and now, just missing one more class before leaving.
She really wanted to just lie there in her locker without caring about the stares of others or the murmurs she could hear. She just wanted to survive a few more minutes and then get out of there.
She raised her head again, fixed her hair and looked for some books waiting to hear the bell.
No sooner had she closed her locker to stride forward to her classroom than footsteps stopped behind her.
- Mabel...
- Yes?
He turned to see his brother, it seemed that the last time he had seen him was last night in the midst of those screams, for he barely noticed his presence at breakfast.
- Sorry about yesterday...
- I should be the one to apologize, I didn't have to yell at you like that.
- No, I was meddling in your business....
Dipper's gaze was glued to the floor, he scratched his head nervously.
- Calm down silly, it's all right - I said while tapping him on his shoulder
- I know, I just think we need some time away from all this.
- Time out?
- Well, movie night, remember? We used to do it all the time. And I thought in a "peace accord" and before exams, some quiet would be great....
He slurred every word, sounded somewhat tense and avoided looking at her.
- Great, count me in
- Well... Well...
- I'll see you on the way out bro, we'll look for tons of junk food.
Mabel was whispering in his ear as the bell rang and they both headed to class.
On the way out, Mabel was looking for her things and leaving when she received a message from her brother, he would be a little late, he needed a book from the library for the weekend.
She went out to the parking lot looking for that gray car, a gift from her last birthday, but that lately Dipper ended up driving alone because she was going with Demian or taking the bus, like the last few days.
I needed to be alone at that moment.
I looked everywhere, seeing those who arrived and left quickly, or those who organized parties surrounded by several groups.
She didn't expect to see her ex before her brother, who approached her sweetly helping her, as her vehicle alarm went off.
Before he could hear her voice, a hail of gunshots rang out in the air, followed by screams, causing many to run everywhere, others to jump into their cars and speed off.
Mabel began to search through the crowd for her brother, calling out to him, but there was no answer. Demian grabbed Mabel pulling her away, but she insisted on staying.
The gunfire grew louder, and whoever was the perpetrator seemed to be approaching where they were.
- Let's go..! - Demian insisted
- No, I can't, Dipper was on his way, he might cross paths with him to look for me....
Demian was heard to grumble grumbling, it was nothing new to her.
Mabel struggled with the boy trying to get him to let her go in his "foolish" attempt to save her, but without any success, she had to give in.
Then we have to hide...
They both stood under the car, where they could only make out the feet of people coming and going.
Quickly the running came again, followed by more screams, and more gunshots. The shooter was right above them standing in front of the car. The tip of the rifle could be seen at his feet.
All Mabel could think about was where her brother was, Demian had pulled her so quickly that her backpack had been left on the hood of the car.
That person seemed to have chosen his point guard, he turned on himself over and over again while raising his weapon. The minutes just below their feet became eternal for both of them, Mabel's breath hitched not knowing what to expect and she could only console herself by holding the hand of the man who had been her boyfriend.
At that moment the sirens were heard, there were several patrol cars approaching, that guy looked nervous, but he raised his rifle again and charged it.
Letting hear a dry gunshot plummeting in front of both young men.
She let out a scream and Demian pressed her against him, waiting for someone to get them out of there.
Dipper took longer than he thought to get a damn book out for his report, no matter how advanced the internet was, many professors still liked to screw around with mandatory library bibliography for their papers.
He looked at his phone in search of a response from Mabel, but there was none, she was probably upset, leaning on the edge of the car with her arms crossed and a somewhat mocking look on her face.
As soon as he got it sealed so he could take it with him, he hurried his pace, but before he reached the door he saw many people running in shouting to close the doors.
"They're shooting outside!"
He was in disbelief when he tried to run out to look for his sister, but they stopped him by slamming the door in his face.
- The police are on their way, we must keep the students safe.
- Many were left out! - shouted Dipper
- If the armed subject enters here it could be much worse.
Some teachers separated the kids and led them in groups to the gymnasium, some nervously crying as they flagged down their parents to pick them up. Others were checking social media to see if there were any intrepid kids recording them live outside. Dipper, on the other hand, looked again and again at the exit door.
Although at first he had been positive to find his sister in the incoming crowd, he was discouraged at first, then dialed her several times in a ringing tone that exasperated him even more.
He didn't want to jump to conclusions, he was afraid to jump to conclusions that his worst fears would become real. He dialed again and again hoping to hear her voice, until the sirens stopped to the relief of many who were there.
Most parents and relatives had approached the school seeking the safety of the teenagers, or perhaps to make sure that their children were not among the number of children with serious injuries or deaths.
Dipper could hear as they said "there are five teenagers dead and over eight injured" those words had caused his whole body to shake and the insistence on the phone to return.
But only for a few minutes, when his mother's voice brought him out of his trance.
He stood up and hugged her tightly, for the look on her face reflected how frightened and worried she was. She would get him out of there, she would take him to Mabel.
At the front door, again, everything was surrounded by police, ambulances and yellow ribbons lining the street. Dipper ignored his mother, detouring his way to the parking lot. It wasn't too hard to miss Mabel's backpack on top of his gray car, as well as the fresh bloodstain on the ground right next to him.
He turned his eyes to his mother, waiting for answers, he knew she knew where his sister was.
- Come on Dipper - She repeated, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him towards her car.
He simply grabbed his backpack until he climbed into the vehicle, pulling his phone from inside with the thousands of calls on it.
- Where is Mabel?
- At home, she is fine
- Wounded? This wound?
- No
- Are you lying to me?
- Calm down, it's okay. Your father looked for her at the hospital...
- Hospital...
Something wasn't focusing on her mother's words, nothing gave her the security she felt, let alone peace of mind.
It took forever to get home, after passing a long line of cars on the way to school, cameras and other people who were just trespassing.
As soon as the woman parked, Dipper bolted out of the vehicle and ran to her house, turning the door handle down again and again, realizing it was locked. With the lights on inside.
Hearing the turn of the key, she saw her father on the other side, his eyes looked tired, he was still wearing the shirt he had put on in the morning, although she knew that he usually came home later, it was more than clear that he had gone out for "an emergency".
- You can calm down and be quiet," his father chirped.
Dipper took a big breath of air before stepping over the threshold of his home, seeing the living room surrounded by several pillows and blankets leaving him to notice his sister asleep on the edge of one of the couches.
Before he could run over her, he felt a gentle tug, from his father stopping his stride.
- Let her rest. She had a nervous breakdown, they took her to the hospital because they couldn't calm her down. And from there the school called me... She's still sedated...
- It's my fault," said Dipper, gritting his teeth. - If I had come out earlier...
- Don't say that son - She interrupted him - They are both fine and we are grateful for that...
- Well? - His eyes were beginning to water, for a few minutes before he had only tragedy in his head.
When the guy collapsed on the floor Mabel was sure she could see his eyes wide open along with the shot mark on a fully opened head.
Demian pressed her against his chest trying to avert his gaze as he crawled backwards trying to get out from under that vehicle.
- Don't worry, it's all over - I kept telling her over and over again.
She returned his embrace, wiping away her tears for the moment with the cuff of her sweater.
Police were approaching where the shooter's body was already lying, and others were approaching them.
- Are you all right? Ambulances are on the way
- We are both fine," said Demian, raising his hands in peace.
Mabel turned away from him looking around again and again.
- Dipper... Demian, I need to know where my brother is.
A policeman stopped her
- It is better that they stay where they are until some authority comes, there are several boys injured, and others dead. The best way to facilitate this is to stay out of our work.
- My brother was coming here before this started, he could be hurt...he could be....
- Mabel, they shot your brother! - shouted one of her companions who was being carried by a paramedic.
- No- no-no-no
She let go again trying to run, this time it was Demian who was pulling her to the ground to keep her still.
- You heard the officers, you may hinder their work if you interfere.
- What if he is injured?
- Look around Mabel, there are ambulances and others that will be arriving to help.
- And if this -
Demian just looked away, not knowing what to say...
- I have to see it for myself
- And what will that accomplish? You were going to risk your life just to look for Dipper, he can take care of himself too. He can take care of himself too. Can you?
She looked up at him, her lips trembling along with her whole body.
- I need to know where it is
Demian refused to let go of her no matter how hard she struggled, kicking or screaming. Even he couldn't recognize her under those situations.
She managed to attract the attention of the medical staff by forcibly assisting her.
After a few hours her father appeared at the hospital, taking her home, assuring her that everything was fine, that her brother would be home any minute. And although he repeated the same thing a thousand times, Mabel burst into tears, not believing anything as she hesitated, words without understanding, her face covered in tears.
For eternal minutes we both lay on the couch looking for something other than the news replaying the tragedy.
And before he could notice she was falling asleep surrounded by pillows and blankets.
Perhaps, when he wakes up he would be better off.
- It was just a scare - repeated the man, his son, giving a little peace of mind.
- Go take a shower, Dipper, and come on down. We'll wait for you here
Dipper looked at his parents and then at his sister who was sound asleep.
- She may not wake up until tomorrow, she'll be fine.
He climbed up at a slow pace while he thought about every action before that "accident" and reviewed everything in reverse, until he reached the moment of the fight.
He watched the half-open door to her room, before entering the bathroom and losing himself in the shower for a few minutes.
If I had done something different... Maybe things would be different. But in a good way?
Once downstairs, everything seemed to have calmed down.
Still, no amount of talk, no amount of questions could undo the knot she felt in her chest. Both parents' attempts were in vain.
After a few hours her father tried to carry Mabel upstairs, and she began to whimper, moving around and getting rid of him no matter what he said. Falling back onto the couch. covering herself under the blankets.
- And so it has been since he arrived," sighed the man.
- Can I - Can we stay here?
Asked Dipper stumbling over the words.
- Are you sure?
- You said it, we're fine...
Soon the lights went out and he lay on the sofa bed next to his sister.
He wasn't tired, but he wanted to give his parents some peace of mind, until they went to their room.
He waited a few minutes before crawling right to where Mabel stood whispering her name over and over again.
Suddenly hands came out from under the blanket colliding with her face, giving her small, slow caresses that made her heart race.
All a breath of air before discovering her removing the blanket and seeing a face drenched in tears, as she whimpered almost silently so no one would hear
- Hey, what's going on?
He moved closer to her who jumped up grabbing him by the collar, pulling him onto the couch beside her.
Dipper returned the embrace listening as she continued to cry.
- All is well. You are fine.
- You're here - She stammered
- I don't want to be anywhere else
- But someone said you were hurt...
- No- No, I'm fine look at me
Mabel forced a smile, unable to hold in all the pain, as she pressed herself closer to her brother's chest. Listening to his racing heart and how his arms pressed her tighter against him.
They were silent for a long time, no one dared to say anything. Their planned night was left in absolute darkness.
- Are you asleep?
- Demian told me the same thing again, the same words of the breakup....
- Were you with him?
- It was just a coincidence, the shooting started the second he crossed my path.
Mabel slurred every word. She was lying on top of her brother watching a muted television while he slowly played with her hair.
- He wanted to get away from it all, he dragged me along trying to get us to escape... but I couldn't abandon you.
- I was inside the school... it took longer than I thought in the library, I'm sorry...
- I wasn't going to abandon you, Dipper...And that bothers him.
- Wait... They broke up because of me? What?
- No, no... that's not it....
- What did Demian tell you?
- Your safety and your well being really matter a lot to me Dipper, I don't know what I would do if something happened to you.
- What did Demian tell you, Mabel?
- If only you could feel half the love you have for your brother with me... No matter what you tell me, no matter what you deny me, you don't measure your words Mabel and much less your feelings... And we ended up with
Dipper felt some of the air escaping from his lungs, his hands trembling.
- What are you talking about?
- In the hallways some spit a "weird" Demian is not bad, but....
- Are you wrong?
- I don't know, what do you think?
- That I didn't deserve you
He let out a slight chuckle causing his sister to stand up to face him a little surprised.
- What do you feel, Mabel?
- I don't know...
- Well, do you want to know how I feel? A few hours before I was so afraid that something was going to happen to you, I yelled to my mom hoping they would tell me about you. I had seen blood near the car and just thought the worst. You are my best friend in the whole world. And when I saw you okay, it was like being able to breathe calm again, I don't care what anyone else says, what Demian says. Wrong or not I care about you too much too, I would die if anything happens to you. I love you too much that many times I just hope to come home and see you. I just want to see you well, and I want you to be happy with someone, anyone, who can understand you with all you are....
Before he could speak any further he felt Mabel's lips on his, and before she could pull away he moved in closer deepening the kiss, letting his tongue enter his sister's mouth, feeling her breathing begin to quicken.
As soon as they parted they looked at each other somewhat surprised, but he was holding her hand and she was holding his face.
- Today you are all I need. You're all I want
The pieces fit together of how Mabel avoided him at times, how he really felt weird in the face of indifference, but they couldn't, no matter how much they wanted to, be apart for long.
And that early morning, both of them piled up on the couch proved it.
How their hands searched for each other at the same time as those longed-for embraces, and little kisses between dreams.
In the morning everything was totally silent. Her parents had gone out earlier.
Dipper was slowly opening his eyes, his whole body ached from how uncomfortable the two-person couch was, but Mabel didn't even seem to notice.
As soon as he tried to free himself, she woke up.
Her half-open eyes and a somewhat blank stare resembled his.
As good as everything had turned out, the last few hours left him with a raw hangover of honesty and reality.
Although at times they preferred to ignore it all by tidying up the mess in the living room. Facing each other at the breakfast table, it was hard to pretend there was nothing there.
He was the first to react by taking her hand to get her attention.
- Last night...
- It's okay... I think it was an impulse, we were nervous about what happened.
- What did you tell me about Demian?
- Just forget it Dipper
What else could be done? They couldn't just stop being siblings overnight, or start a relationship easily.
They tied a noose around their hands struggling with their feelings and doing the right thing. Fears arose at the mere thought that if they assumed their impulses the rest was uncertain and unsafe.
Would they take the risk and could their parents tolerate it?
They both looked on, their tired eyes forming. Maybe this way, without words, without actions they could understand that they should finish something that had never started.
For the best towards each other.
Mabel picked up his plate and went up to his room, and he only listened to the footsteps until his door closed, before holding his head in both hands, resigned, tormented with so many feelings that he couldn't even digest one.
He loved her so much, so much not to drag her down with him.
The whole scare to death just made everything I was feeling worse.
He understands that he was not losing her, they would simply take the distance that needed to be taken, she would never leave his side, would she?
He walked to his room, he would just let the hours pass, let time settle everything. For all he had in his head were bad choices.
But before she buried herself in her only shelter the door next door slowly opened revealing her sister.
- Aren't you going to tell me anything anymore?
Her words were full of fear, her crystalline eyes stared at him without wanting to turn a millimeter away.
- What do you want me to say?
- The first thing on your mind
- I love you
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