#((i haven’t drawn anything serious in ages but the moment i saw this ask i felt like i got possessed fjjfjfj j hope no one minds))

[golden-gear-guy]

Hey, good to know you didn't die from raspberry battery acid posoning

-Heist mastermind

no way, it was awesome! and very sour! kinda like flowberry fizz but with more ✨pizzazz✨

@fortnitegoddess

was great and my stomach doesn’t hurt at all and i’m not writing this from a hospital!

[dracomort]

hello! what would you say is the best draco characterisation you’ve ever read in a fic? and what have you read recently that you really liked and would read again?

also, i love everything you write :) thanks in advance!

I once saw this fanart that depicted the three main forms of Draco in Drarry and I have to say it's the most accurate thing I've ever seen lmao. My personal preference is somewhere between 'nutcase' and 'fake it till you make it' Draco. For light-hearted fics, I like those that capture the meanness of Draco's humour and his difficult personality; for serious fics I enjoy those where he truly wavers on the line of moral ambiguity.

Away Childish Things by lettered

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

A great exploration of all the parts that make up the whole of Draco Malfoy.

any day now by oknowkiss

Draco Malfoy considers the circle.

I like this Draco for his moral greyness, self-preservation, internal conflict and risk aversion

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrims0n

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

This is probably one of the most plausible DH-era Draco's I've ever read. The way he speaks to Hermione alone is enough to put it on this list. It's rare to find contemporary Drarry fics that are willing to commit to his nastiness and bigotry.

Such Great Heights by aideomai

Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale and in a decidedly ragged shirt, was crouched next to the pile of whatever the dragon had been eating. Harry threw himself to a halt and yelled, “Merlin, how many times do I have to save your life?”

Draco's crabbiness and difficult personality here is so good. This Draco has always been a major influence for me. This line in particular is iconic:

“Due respect, sir,” Draco said, because apparently even weird romantic feelings or whatever they were weren’t enough to keep Draco from throwing Harry under the bus the moment an authority figure appeared, “I haven’t done anything. I’ve been working nearly non-stop the past few weeks - you can ask Mr Borgin—”

Lorelei in the Menagerie by BelladonnaLee

"I think my dead son is haunting the manor," says Draco when Harry runs into him in an antique book shop. Driven by yearning and suspicion, Harry offers his help and is drawn into a web of secrets and half-forgotten nightmare.

I think anything I say about this fic would be a spoiler but I really enjoy Draco's twisted grieving here. Also considering my usual character preferences, I think you'll see why I like this one so much if you read it.

Heal Thyself by astolat

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.”

“What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

“Oh, I thought you might,” she said. “Well, goodbye.” And off she wandered again in her addled way.

Amoral, ambitious character accidentally becomes a good person in their pursuit of status/money/power is one of my favourite tropes. It's also why I like Tom Riddle Snr in In the Bleak Midwinter so much. Astolat in general writes a great Draco.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Despite the heavy sounded summary, this is actually a crackish humour fic. Certainly an excellent example of nutcase Draco. The villain reveal at the end is 100% my favourite part I stg.

[honeytae]

Hey is thirst night over? I've been begging for jk soft fluffy smut where he decides he finally wants to be a father after his hyungs have had kids. (Pleaseeee include impreg kink) thank you! (If thirst nights over then you can just shame me lol)

you’re a darling for sending this request in. thank you thank you thank you

“You tell me if you need me to pull out, okay?”

You rolled your eyes at Jungkook’s umpteenth time saying this tonight, nodding your head anyway to dismiss his thought process.

“Jungkook, you know there’s already sperm in pre-cum, right?”

Jungkook huffed at this, pushing his hair back from his forehead as he hovered over you.

“You know what I mean.” He said, softening his tone, making you sigh as you nodded again.

“I know. I want this, Kookie.” You assured, the man smiling for a moment as you leaned up off your pillow, smoothing over his lips in a gentle kiss.

“Are you good with this?” You asked in concern, easing up slightly when he immediately nodded his head.

“Not a doubt in my mind, baby.”

A couple weeks ago, you and Jungkook had somehow stumbled across the serious topic of starting a family. His friends had all become dads, your friends had all become moms, and your life was beginning to feel like it had a tiny void to be filled in your day to day.

After that discussion, you both decided to think on it a bit more. But really, it was only a few days before the topic came up again, both of you in agreeance that now was the time to start trying.

Trying meant tossing away your pills (something Jungkook offered to do himself with a wiseass remark about the mood swings they gave you, earning a thwack to the side of his head as he giggled at your reaction) and forgoing the condoms, something you’d both wanted to do for ages.

But the last few weeks have been quite hectic, so you haven’t had much time for anything other than some quick hand stuff beneath the sheets.

Tonight was the night.

Pulling slightly back, you trapped his bottom lip between your teeth, tipping your head back to stare into his dark eyes.

“Give me a baby, Jungkook.”

Groaning at your words, he prodded his tip at your entrance, pushing in with a drawn out moan at the feeling of your velvet walls around him.

“Fuck, baby.” You gasped, the veins and ridges in Jungkook’s cock grinding deliciously against your walls, his lips pursing against your jaw with a grunt.

“Jesus fucking christ, we’re never going back to condoms.” He chuckled breathlessly, you returning a small giggle before rocking into his stilled hips.

“C’mon, Kookie.” You murmured, wrapping your legs around his waist to rest your calves over his ass, pushing him into you with a press of your heels to his thighs.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s the rush, hm?” He soothed, causing you to sigh a deep exhale as you let yourself relax, the man smiling a bit at the way you melted into the pillows once you allowed yourself to.

You were excited. He was too. But there was absolutely no need to feel rushed.

Gently his hips into yours, he let out another moan, sweetly pressing his lips to your shoulder. His thrusts were slow and deep, tip repeatedly hitting your cervix causing your walls to flutter around him.

“Feel that? Gonna put a baby right there.” He spoke into your skin, words making you whine a moan as his hand pressed down on your lower abdomen.

“You’ll look so good, creating our baby. So beautiful.” He rambled, working himself up further at the thought of you pregnant with his child, hips pistoning into yours with grunts punctuating each thrust.

“God, I’m not gonna last as long as I want to.” He hissed at your walls closing in on him, tipping his head back as he drove himself into your pussy in increasingly uneven strokes.

“Give it to me, Kookie.” You said, fingers pushing his hair back from his forehead to watch as his eyes clenched shut, gasping when you felt his thumb down at your clit.

Driving you close to your own release, Jungkook moaned your name as his cock twitched inside of you, stilling as he pressed himself deep into your entrance.

“You have to cum first, read it in Cosmo once. C’mon babe.” He breathed, rubbing tighter circles over the bud as you mewled in response, gripping his shoulder as you arched your hips into him.

“W-why were you r-reading Cosmo?”

At the timing of your question, unraveling around him with a quiver of your thighs, Jungkook chuckled above you, leaning down to press soothing kisses to your chin and cheeks as you came down from your high.

“Jin saw a funny prank in there, sent me the wrong article. Long story.” He grinned, pressing his chest to yours as a serious expression overtook his face.

“Are you ready?”

Taking a deep inhale, you cupped his face with your palm, nodding as a lazy smile overtook your own.

“I’m ready.”

With your verbal consent, Jungkook began his long strokes once again, working himself up to a release again with careful glides into your channel.

You kept yourself occupied by planting kisses over his neck and chest in the meantime, listening to his moans grow louder with each thrust as he began to stall again in his movements.

“Gonna,” he said weakly, the only warning your received before he pressed himself deep inside you, hot spurts of sperm coating your insides as he groaned into your skin.

It took a few moments for both your breathing to steady, silence enveloping the room as opposed to the noises occupying it in the time before.

“Do you think we did it?” Jungkook mumbled into your shoulder, you giggling in response with a confident shake of your head.

“It never happens the first try, Kook. We’ll have to keep at it.” You sighed, the man nudging your hip with a smirk as he picked his head up off where he’d collapsed on your chest.

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

[cozyenigma]

In for a Penny

(From my friends reaction to reading this I seem to have found a niche of mine lol 

Please do mind the tags!)

Word Count- 1,405

Request?- Yes!

Summary- Your life adventuring with Illinois seemed too good to be true sometimes. It all felt a movie, moving from place, treasure to treasure. But you forgot that not every adventure has a happy ending.

Tag List- @cookielover0001010​ , @swag-droid , @watchoutforfrostbite​

Warnings- major injury, blood, amputation

Sometimes you felt like your life was closer to a movie. Illinois himself may as well have walked off the silver screen. You met, he swept you up in a whirlwind of adventure, and now the two of you bounced from place to place and explored everything the world had to offer.

Your current haunt was an old temple, half built into a mountain. Illinois's eyes had sparkled when he told you the space was dug right out of the side.

"Alright," he drawled, unfurling his makeshift map with a flourish, "this is it."

You only raised an eyebrow. If your life was a movie, the treasure room would be grand. Hidden behind a gauntlet of traps for anyone daring or foolhardy enough to try and claim it. This door was just... a door.

A simple rectangular stone panel set into the wall. No engravings of any kind beyond cracks and grooves worn in by age and the elements. The only thing remarkable about it was the series of holes set in the wall on either side of it.

"Really?" You stooped down to peer into one. "Thought it'd be a bit tougher to get to."

A hand at your shoulder pulled you back.

"Careful darlin', not quite that easy," Illinois pointed the flashlight towards the hole.

Set back a couple feet, barely visible, was what looked like a button?

"That's our way in," Illinois stuffed the map back into his pocket. "One on either side, just gotta hit the right ones and we're golden."

You huffed a surprised little laugh. Just like a movie after all. "And what happens if we don't? We lose an arm?"

A pause as he turned to look at you. That expression wasn't promising.

"Wait, are you serious?" You kept your hands very safely to yourself.

"Hey, hey," Illinois set his bag down, "that's not gonna happen. Because," he yanked the zipper open and drew out a book, "you're looking at a veritable expert in ancient languages."

"Oh yeah?" You watched, amused, as he cracked the book open and started looking at the engravings on either side of the door.

"Well," he shrugged one shoulder, looking over at you with a lazy smirk, "my Latin isn't that great."

A snort as you sat back against the wall. Settling in to watch, you found yourself wondering again how Illinois ended up here. Doing this.

He wasn't exactly forthcoming with the details of his own life. One of the tidbits you knew was that he was in college at one point. For one reason or another he'd dropped out. That, somehow, led him here, trying to bust into an ancient treasure room with you years later.

"Got some pictures of these from a buddy of mine a while back," Illinois said, distracted as he scribbled down some notes. "Syntax is a bit weird but-" he sets the book down, "think I got it."

He pointed to a hole on his side and then to one on yours.

"We press these at the same time and the door should open," he turned back to you, a little smug, "and we get our hard earned reward."

"Yeah," you glanced towards the holes again. About the last thing you wanted to do was stick your hand in one. "And hopefully not lose an arm in the process."

"You don't have to worry your pretty head about that," as if to demonstrate, Illinois reached into one almost up to his shoulder.

"Illinois-!"

"It's fine," he had the gall to laugh as you practically leapt to your feet, "I haven't pushed the button, see? Besides, the way this works is that it's a team exercise. We both push a button at the same time and the door opens. They're too far apart for one person."

"So...?"

"So," he gestured towards his arm, "if one person fails, it's their teammate that's punished."

Your stomach dropped. "Wha- do you think I'd rather chop off your arm?!"

Illinois still hadn't taken his hand out of the damn thing. "No one is getting their arm chopped off. Trust me."

You blew out a long breath. Did he know you already did? He must, with all the death defying adventures you two went on. So it wasn't a matter of if you were going to put your arm in that stupid thing. Your non-dominant one. You trusted him but you definitely didn't trust this death trap.

Cringing slightly, you cautiously reached in. The stone was cool against your skin. Nothing poked or prodded or so much as scraped against you.

Your fingertips just barely brushed against the button. It was smooth and polished. Even now, with just a bit of pressure, you could tell it had some give to it.

"Okay," Illinois gave you one of those winning smiles, "just push it on the count of three, alright? One, two, three!"

The button gave way easily. It barely made a sound. You held your breath for a moment, then two.

Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Illinois's brows draw together.

"But..."

Whatever he said under his breath was lost to you. Your attention was drawn to a short, sharp click. One that sounded like it came from right in front of you.

The sensation was odd and you’d have a hard time describing it later. Not exactly pain just- pressure. There and gone in the space of one moment to the next. There was... there was less weight there.

Distantly you heard Illinois say your name.

Experimentally, you tried moving your arm. Somehow there wasn't any pain. Not at first. Your arm was almost numb in a sense. The only thing you felt, if anything, was an odd sort of warmth.

There were hands on your shoulders.

You snapped your head back around to find Illinois staring at you, looking just a bit panicked. He'd probably been trying to get your attention for a while, you thought. That expression didn't ease any when he actually looked towards your arm.

"Is that blood?" You found yourself asking.

Something was running down the wall. Red and coppery smelling, it flowed in thick trails from the hole you still had your arm in.

"Shit," Illinois cursed rather viciously, going to snatch up his backpack.

You knew that first aid kit wasn't going to do the job, seeing as you're the one who packed it.

"Illinois-" you tried to get his attention.

The kit found, Illinois turned his attention back to you.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's sit you down now," those warm hands were back at your shoulders now. Warmer than before, maybe.

"What about the door?" You asked instead.

The question seemed to throw Illinois off. He paused, opened his mouth to say something, glanced towards the door, then back at you.

"What?" Was all he could manage for a moment.

You continued, feeling oddly detached from the whole thing. "The treasure? You still have to get it."

That metallic scent was getting stronger now. Mixing with the smell of dust and damp, it would've been enough to turn your stomach in most situations.

The confusion gave way to something like grief. It flashed across his face for a moment before he was holding you tighter.

"I don't care about the damn treasure!" Then Illinois was pulling you, by the shoulders, away from the wall.

"I feel fine though…” you tried to argue, trailing off a bit.

You had looked at your arm without meaning to. What was left of it anyway. Maybe it was seeing it or moving it that did the trick but now it was starting to hurt. A steady ache, barely noticeable at first. It came and went with your heartbeat.

The next instant Illinois had you sitting against the wall. Pressing something to your arm. That had you nearly drawing back, a brief stab when it'd only been throbbing before. Illinois didn't let up.

"I made a mistake," he was saying, voice calm but talking a bit too quickly. "But you're gonna be fine. Look at me darlin', you're gonna be okay. Just lemme-"

The rest of the words were lost on you. Somehow past it all, your first clear thought was huh, so that's what that looked like.

There was a lot of red for one. You heard Illinois talking louder but it wasn't any easier to parse and the world turned a bit gray after that.

[angry-geese]

At Dawn’s Break III

PB!Dio Brando x Maid!Reader, Jonathan Joestar x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: none! sfw, mention of death, but nothing too graphic. Mostly plot. Not the healthiest relationship dynamic. Technically yandere Dio but its very tame

Notes: Part One- sfw, Part Two- nsfw, Part Four - nsfw

This has been in my drafts for so long I’m so sorry. I do have a friend helping me edit my ao3 stuff so there might be some grammatical differences between that and the stuff posted here but i'll try to keep it as consistent as possible- story-wise its still the same.

In the coming months, word would arrive of your father’s death.

Sad wasn’t the right word for it. The man was old, sick, and frail. He fell ill and never recovered. Things like that happen. It was expected. His passing was quiet, happening in the early hours in the morning. You had grieved his death long before it actually happened. Your love for him was more out of a sense of duty than anything else. He was never a proper parent, the harsh expectations of life were thrown upon you rather young. At nineteen you were left as the sole guardian of your siblings. Some nights you would scream about the unfairness of it all, others you would wallow in your pity. The constant "sorry for your loss"s infuriated you. It would not bring him back. It would not fix this hole you've dug for yourself. It did nothing to justify what you've gone through. The world wasn't going to stop spinning just for you to feel sorry for yourself.

So you returned to work.

Your meetings with Dio grew fewer and further apart. Your conversations were short, ending with arguments. What he could dish out, you threw right back. Often you found yourself bitter and frustrated with him, leaving much space between the two of you. It wasn’t that you loved him any less, but he wasn’t exactly understanding in this matter. Neither of his fathers- adopted or biological- could he stand. Putting it plainly: Dio was awful at comforting people. Sympathy was not one of his strong suits. Going to him for comfort was out of the question.

Your life was soon after consumed by the mundane nature of work. The repetition of it you found soothing. It was nice to have a routine. Even if Dio wasn’t there for you, it was. The head maid took notice in your sudden interest in work, and blamed Dio for your lacking efforts. You just nodded and kept your head down.

Mr. Joestar would soon fall ill. Due to his old age, it didn’t come as a surprise to many. Very few questioned it. He was older, but seemingly healthy at the time. He fell sick overnight with the flu, which soon turned to pneumonia. It was not looking like he would recover. His coughing fits could be heard from across the manor. Much of it reminded you of your own father, so you often stayed away, only coming around when it was asked of you.

It makes you wonder if Dio feels the same sense of duty to his father. Probably not. He does not understand family ties in the same way you do. He was very attentive when Mr. Joestar fell ill, often providing medicine for him. If you were called to help, he would go in your place. It feels false, like a mockery of a doting son. Yes- he's providing for his father, but it feels like an alien trying to copy a human. Like a robot trying to replicate human love. It’s not out of any kindness in his heart. What he feels isn’t love. Sometimes you don’t think he’s capable of it. But if he did love something, it was power. He’d never admit it, but it was also you. Having you so consumed with grief enraged him. It was a childish want for attention that he found hard to conceal. He never took out his anger on you, finding himself afraid of turning out to be like his birth father driving his mother into an early grave. Often he thought about how easily he could force your hand, make you chose between him and your family. Deep down he didn’t want to toss out an ultimatum. You had just as much of a bite as him; unstoppable force meets immovable object. In no way he saw that ending well. Others had noticed the growing distance between you. People talked- as they did- rumors spread.

“Y/N.” Jonathan’s voice startles you.

“Mister Joestar, how-”

“Call me Jonathan.”

You cringe at the interruption.

“Jonathan.” You say. “How can I help you?”

“Will you take a walk with me?”

He guides you out to the garden. Winter has left it scraggly and barren, washed out in cold, white light. A few wilting leaves cling to the trees. Only a handful of rooms are lit within the house. It feels personal, being dragged through the place where you spent so many of your nights with your lover. Calling him that feels strange. Lover seems like too innocent of a word.

Over your time at the Joestar estate, there isn’t much you know about Jonathan. Dio talked of him. Often. It was never good, though he had a way of exaggerating things. By now you’ve learned to take it with a grain of salt. Your meetings with the second Joestar son have been few and rather brief. He seems sweet, albeit a bit naive and too engrossed in high society to talk with the likes of you. The girls in the kitchen swoon over him, although he’s sweet on a neighbor girl. Erina- you’ve heard of her. She’s been over for dinner before.

"How are you?" He asks.

"Fine, I suppose." You say, a bit irritated with the small talk. "What is it you need of me?"

"I heard what happened," absentmindedly he picks at his nails, "and I wanted to give my condolences. I imagine this situation is... unpleasant for you."

"I manage." You say. "But I doubt that's what you brought me out here for."

He nods. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Then ask away. I'd be happy to answer."

“You’re close with Dio, aren’t you?” He asks.

“A bit. Why?”

While you’re almost certain he knows, it feels easier to lie. You were not the star-crossed lovers that Jonathan and Erina were, the type of partners that made the girls you work with swoon and wish for such a thing, the type of love people write books about but fail to recreate. Your relationship was more out of a mutual agreement than it was proper love, but you suppose it was there. The two of you were angry, scathing people who were capable of god knows what. Together you could be terrifying.

“You two seem to spend quite a lot of time together.” He says. “Have you noticed anything strange with him?”

“No.” You say. “I haven't noticed anything like that."

"He's awfully attentive with father..."

"It's bizarre." You say. He laughs.

"I'm heading to London in a few days- to the university. Father's medicine hasn't been working, and I want it to be examined." From his coat pocket he produces a small green bottle. it's familiar. Dio has one quite like it.

"Do you need anything while you're away?" You ask, wishing to get back to your work. There was laundry that needed to be done.

"No," he says, turning to you, "thank you for your time. I should get going."

Before you can leave, he stops you.

"I know it's no business of mine, but my brother is bad news. You're a sweet girl and I don't want anything to happen to you. Dio is capable of things you couldn't even imagine."

"You're right. It is no business of yours."

He gives you a quick goodbye before leaving you alone in the garden.

Over time, Dio has grown more serious about keeping you close. He has a malicious, possessive streak to him. Your recent distance has only brought that out more. There is no talk of marriage- his adoptive father would never approve- but he talks of the future. Often. For you, the future meant work. To some extent, you could live with that. You never knew what it meant for him. He jokes of world domination.

You’re not quite sure you want to rule the world, but you do want to get out of London.

You stop just under the apple tree. It’s sickly and sad looking. The last of the fruit has fallen off and rotted. A few wilting leaves cling onto the branches. Jonathan gives you a quick goodbye, before returning to the house.

The door to his room is open. A lantern is lit, though the curtains are drawn shut. There’s no need to knock, you’re the only person who will walk in.

“Sit with me, pet.” Dio says.

Maybe the nickname has grown on you. It no longer draws out the same reaction of disgust and discomfort. Time has softened your hard outer shell. He opens his arms and instinctively you go into them. His chest feels unnaturally cold, but being so close to him makes you feel safe. The smell of his cologne is familiar and comforting, you find yourself leaning in closer. You allow yourself this one moment of weakness. He rests his chin on top of your head.

“I don’t have long,” you say, “I must get back.”

He pulls you closer. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Jonathan came and talked with me earlier.” You say.

You could almost swear you heard his heart skip a beat. His grip around you loosens, allowing you to shift to face him. His expression is unreadable.

“Yes.” He says. “I figured he would.”

“Why?”

You almost ask what he’s done.

Accusing him of something would only make him shut down. You already have a guess. The entire conversation leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It’s a constant unease and discomfort, more than it is outright pain. He's scheming- as he does- but more importantly, he hasn't told you about it.

“My brother doesn't believe in my ways.” He says. "I would never do anything to hurt father. It's no fault of mine that he won't recover."

"Then tell me what was in the bottle." You say. "As of right now, Jonathan is on his way to get that 'medicine' tested."

"I never gave any of it to him."

Jonathan won't see it that way. The authorities surely won't be as kind as his brother. And if he gets caught- what then?

"So you give it to someone else- so some unassuming person is killing him."

Dio doesn’t respond. Do you really expect more of him? He’s proven to be capable of many things. You’ve long since learned he wants to be the sole heir to the Joestar estate. It was a given. Power is something he craves. As much as he jokes about world domination, there's always a serious tone behind them. In the beginning, it just seemed like his nature; he was always collected and intense. Some truth must have been behind them. He makes no attempt to hide that. But this...

Murder is a bit too cold-blooded for your tastes. Morally you don’t have the high ground. You don’t find yourself above much, but you'd like to think you're above murder. If its what you need to do to survive, you believe you'd give it a pass, but as the time comes you're less sure of it. Mr. Joestar gave Dio an opportunity that doesn’t even come once in a lifetime for many. It feels like a slap in the face, just adding insult to injury. This feels like betrayal in the purest sense of the word. While you aren’t close to his father, you have a bit of respect for the man. His death would not cause you the same grief as your own father’s, but you would be sad.

But he is old, and not all old people recover from illness.

Most of the estate would go to Jonathan upon his father’s death. Really, this seems short-sighted. As the younger son, Dio isn’t entitled to all that much. But getting rid of his brother might be easier said than done. Part of you is angry for how little he’s thought this through. Truly, you expected more from him. With as much as he schemes, you had expected a better plan.

Your reaction isn’t quite what he expected. Anything but blind love and acceptance is seen as betrayal to him. To you, everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong.

If he fails- if- there is no recovering from this. If he is caught, many signs point to you as an accomplice.

Silently he exits, leaving you alone in his dark room.

[ktheist]

nice guys finish last | m

synopsis. you thought you were over yoongi’s dick move of ending your engagement through his parents - not even a text when he disappeared out of your life. that’s why you agreed to the newly arranged marriage with his brother, namjoon, but on the brink of your wedding day, it becomes apparent that you haven’t really let go of the past as you tear up in front of your soon-to-be husband at the back room of the church.

◟alternatively, “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just... keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”

pairings. husband!ceo!namjoon x doctor!reader x ex-fiance!producer!yoongi

genre. arraged marriage au. angst. fluff. smut.

word. 16.2k

content: age gap factor (namjoon is 5 years older than oc and yoongi is 7 years older than oc). pining. teasing. hoseok cockblocking.

warning(s): heavy adult content. mentions of cheating. hospital scenes.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

x

“i don’t want to marry you at all. the person i love is someone else.” there are tears brimming in your eyes but if there’s anything the years of etiquette class namjoon’s parents forced on him taught him - he’d say he turned out okay - it’s to not mention to the crying lady that she’s crying. but he can’t help stare a little longer. admire a little too much.

the rays flooding through the window paired with the prettiest ivory dress he’s seen you in gives you an iridescent halo. you look like an angel descended from the top most heavens.

but not for him.

“i know,” he lets out a drawn out sigh, hand on his neck. he’s always been the awkward one between the two. if it was him - if it was his brother, he would say it without any ounce of self-reproach. but then again what does namjoon have to be sorry for? for being born? for being the second choice son to step into his brother’s shoes when the aforementioned man threatened to disown the family name if their parents refused to let him marry a girl of his choice who, according to the workers’ gossip, ‘he suddenly woke up one day and decided he was in love with’? 

“it’s yoongi, isn’t it? you love yoongi.”

your eyes are prettier when you’re looking directly at him. the tears give them a kind of glow that makes him want to gather you into his arms and keep you there. the flushed cheeks affirms - despite saying it with full confidence, it was just - his hunch.

oh.

the ceremony proceeds rather smoothly. you’re still sniffling when your father passes your hand to him at the end of the aisle. the older man himself looks distraught. either he knows you’re against this marriage and hates himself for failing to put his daughter’s happiness before the guaranteed wealth that comes from marrying you off to the kim family or you’d gotten into a fight with him in a last ditch attempt to convince him to call off the marriage.

either way, you’re here now. the pastor’s words are muddled in your ears but it’s enough to take note of the end tone and the steely silence that ensues which could only mean it’s your turn to say those words.

“i do.” they’re the easiest to get over with.

after endless fights with your parents, going on two hunger strikes and running away to paris for a year - you know you’re in the endgame. and you’ve painstakingly and sorely lost.

he lifts the veil off your face, taking his time with setting it over your head. it’s no secret that kim namjoon is handsome. the kind of thick, textured-fabric-suit-wearing and sleek-back hair kind of handsome. yoongi was more of the hoodie-and-jeans and messy-in-need-of-a-trim hair kind of handsome. but he isn’t yoongi.

you screw your eyes shut, refusing to let the memories of your own wedding vows embed in your head. those beautiful pink full lips are as soft as they look. but they’re not kissing you on your pressed-into-a-straight-line lips. betrayed by your curiosity, your eyes flutter open only to gaze upon the smooth cream skin that wraps around his neck and just the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple as he pulls way.

your newly-wed husband has just kissed you on the forehead.

x

adjusting to married life is as easy as slipping on your favorite shoes. it’s perfect. almost unsettling even. the beach house off the coast of the private island namjoon’s family owns is breathtaking. the sound of waves crashing against the shores is your constant companion as you work on your research. it’s a project you had to put aside when you graduated. the first year at the hospital is the busiest, or so your senior colleagues say. 

namjoon strides into the kitchen sometime past noon, all fresh and showered with a fitting long sleeved shirt and trousers. it’s the most dressed down you’ve ever seen and yet for some people you know, it’s the fanciest they can get. sometimes you wonder if the standards have hit the ground or if namjoon’s so well-adapted into the routine of dressing up presentable enough to go to his office on an off day in case something calls for it.

“good morning.” you greet first, traces of the embarrassing tear-jerking wedding ceremony still lingers in the back of your mind - you’d tried to explain yourself on the way here in the boat but namjoon had easily blew your worries away with a light chuckle and a “i’d do the same too if i loved someone and had to marry another person.”

it’s not unusual for you to already be perched on the elegant gold sofa adjacent to the sliding doors that has the best view of the sea. the master bedroom is the other part of the beach house with spectacular view - you’d been entranced when you stepped into the room on your first day. but namjoon suggested you stay in the guest room, knowing there’s no way you would share a bed with him -

“or you can take this room and i take the guest room,” he added a moment later, probably because he saw you staring out the balcony, bewitched by the sea. that had broke you from your trance and you’d shook your head so much in protest, you were surprised it didn’t fall right off your neck. “n-no! i mean - i’ll take the guestroom.”

his parents had been nice enough to lend their private beach house for you honeymoon. you weren’t going to step over their son and conquer the master bedroom - even if technically, you’re now part of the family.

“morning.” he fixes you with that half-smile. the kind of smile you give to someone you’re in an complacent relationship with but nothing more.

at least you’ve got that going for you. and that’s a rarity coming from the gossips you’ve heard here and there about marriages found on the ground of convenience.

his eyes swipe over the ipad in your shorts-donned lap from his spot, leaned against the counter in the kitchen, pitch black mug of coffee with wafts of smoke coming out of it, “how’s your research going?”

“well,” you set the ipad down on the glass surface of the coffee table, it’s bare of anything besides your phone that’s been lighting up from the notifications. one from your mother, another from the group of friends you found in college, and the rest is from your strictly-women group from the hospital, “the world wide web is resourceful and all but it can’t beat the information in actual books - papers, you know?”

“ah, the traditional way of researching.” he chuckles, dimples digging into his cheek, enhancing his handsome features. you never knew he had dimples. not that you knew much about him - you’d only properly talked on the day of your wedding, in the back room and the first thing you said was -

you suppress the memories further down your thoughts. it works for the most part, but you can’t help the flush that spreads across your face. so the laugh you let out is a little strained and if he notices, he doesn’t show - like he pretends not to notice a plenty many things.

but alas, he knew your secret crush - was it still just a crush you had for yoongi? you’re not sure.

“what can i say? i’m raised traditional.”

x

that was two weeks ago. now, you’re back to working your ass off at the hospital, being grilled to the bones by your supervisor, getting reprimanded over being one minute late and then being told to run to the cafe five minutes from the hospital to buy your supervisors their favorite strawberry smoothie topped with sprinkles.

“kim seokjin, that dickwad.” jennie huffs, her cat-like eyes making it appear as though she’s plotting the man’s death. “he’s working you to the bones as soon as you get back.”

“he probably thinks i’m not that serious about my residency since my family has enough fortune to sustain me for my whole lifetime,” you can only laugh at that, her anger has sucked all the tiredness and annoyance you have for your supervisor right out of you. it feels refreshing, “all the more reason to prove him wrong.”

“enough about that asshole,” jisoo waves a dismissive hand off and you know what’s coming is far more terrifying: she blinks, eyes filled with stars and cherry red lips curling into the kind of smile that can only mean one thing, “how was it? the second son of kimcorp. were there rose petals on bed? candles lit around the house? a romantic, sizzling-”

“sorry, jisoo, i gotta go get ready for the dinner. i’ll buy you lunch tomorrow, okay?” you clasp your hands together apologetically when your phone buzzes with the reminder you set a week prior: 8am annual kimcorp dinner.

you breathe a sigh of relief as you shake off your white coat, draping it over your recliner before escaping to the washroom with a bag of makeup and the dust-proof cover bag of the outfit you’re wearing for tonight. by the time you’re touching up on your nude lipstick, your phone buzzes again but this time, the screen lights up with namjoon’s name on it.

“hey,” his voice is deeper through the phone - it’s the first time he calls you. there was never any reason for you to call each other but you suppose, he’s calling to make sure you’re not forgetting the dinner -

“i’m in front of the hospital.”

or maybe not.

“wh-what do you mean?” your cheeks heat up from the thought of namjoon waiting for you in his audi. the image, too domestic for your liking.

“well, you can’t drive so i thought i’d pick you up.” he says it like its the simplest equation to understand.

“namjoon,” the name feels foreign on your tongue regardless of how many times you taste it when you need to tell him something - to set the line straight, “i didn’t know you were gonna pick me up so i already told kyungsoo to pick me up. he’s probably already here. sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.”

“i know,” he says simply.

“e-excuse me?” while you’re beyond confused.

“i told your parents i’d pick you up so kyungsoo’s driving them to the dinner.”

“oh.”

wait. what?! 

x

namjoon is confident in his driving skills - as he is with everything he does. he’s almost perfect. the line of his shoulders seem at ease as he stirs the wheel with one hand and the other rests on the gear, inches away from your scarlet clad thighs.

“why isn’t hoseok driving you?” the aforementioned man sticks to him like glue. everywhere namjoon goes, he goes. it’s a given since he’s the head secretary but anyone who’s seen them interact could tell there’s more than boss-employee relationship between them. they seem like close friends which is unlikely be given namjoon’s too-serious nature and hoseok’s joke-cracking every five minutes - but not impossible.

his face remains the same as he keeps his eyes on the road, humming briefly, “he had a thing.”

“can secretaries have a thing and leave their boss to drive for himself like that?” that doesn’t sound right. you may not be actively involved in fecam industries’ affairs but mr. jung, your dad’s secretary, spends more time with your dad than the two men do with their wives - that’s how demanding the business world is. but could hoseok get a free pass because of his and namjoon’s friendship?

namjoon chuckles, dimples and all and you can’t help but blush at the side profile. if anything, he has a sharp jawline and beautiful neck-

you push the thought as soon as it comes. neck? who finds necks beautiful?

“he had a date but it’s not until a couple hours,” the tone he uses is light and playful but underlined with a sort of bashfulness that you don’t know kim namjoon was capable of, “i told him to go home because i wanted to pick you up myself.”

your cheeks heat up all over again as you stare at him a little too long. so much so, the hand that’s been comfortably perched on the gear goes to the back of his neck in an unsure manner.

“i just needed to talk to you about something.” he explains, just as awkward as he was in the back room at the church.

“okay.” eyes turned to the road too, you can see namjoon breathing a sigh of relief from your periphery. that couldn’t have been because of you could it? was he nervous because you were watching him? “what did you want to talk about?”

he clears his throat, that natural ease in his tone returning, “if it gets uncomfortable - if anyone asks, we met because you were yoongi’s fiancee and we couldn’t help but fall in love. but you wanted to intern at a hospital in paris so that’s why we’ve only gotten married now.”

you take awhile to digest the information until something in your stomach doesn’t sit right with you, “you want me to... lie?”

his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth just for the briefest moment as he thinks about it. he probably didn’t expect you to disagree but he admits his mistake faster than half the people you know your whole life would, “i’m sorry, i didn’t think it would weight on your conscience. i was thought it’d be hard on you if some ass- someone’s going to start a rumor about you but i didn’t ask how you’d feel about it.”

“i see.” you simply nod. it’s true that you’re the pass-up fiancee who got between two people who fell in love in college but the other is the son of a renown family and engaged while the other is an arts major from a normal working family. unable to let bygones be bygones, you decide to marry the younger brother to your fiance - or so the story goes. “but they already know i was yoongi’s fiancee and i ended up marrying you. i don’t need - no, i don’t want to explain myself to anyone.”

despite that big talk, your can feel the prickle of tears in your eyes. namjoon steals a glance at you and he never mentions the glassiness of your gaze - if anything, he smiles. it’s different than the usual smiles. this one, though wordless, says he’s following your flow. do what you like and if and when things get though, you can count on me.

x

dinner has yet started when you arrived. guests are still arriving and waiters and waitresses are carrying trays of champagne glasses around. in a distance, your friends wave at you to come over. you smile, hand falling away from namjoon’s since you needed to at least do that in front of the paparazzo that were waiting outside. eager, hungry for gossip about the wedding that shook south korea’s business world.

“girl, you are glowing.”  yerin literally screams. it’s a secret to no one that she’s hinting on your recent marriage and private island getaway. but nothing happened.

“how are you girls? it’s been so long.” you side hug eunha, letting her arms wrap around your waist as you stand huddled together.

you haven’t seen them since you got back from paris. the wedding was attended by thousands of people - all of whom, your and namjoon’s family’s associates. but you had your hands full shaking hands and smiling next to your husband because these people matter to namjoon. or at least he has an interest over them. business deals. merges. trades. kimcorps carries out every kinds of business they can get their hands on. namjoon passingly mentioned about the work-in-progress for a private hospital.

you dread the likelihood of having to leave the hospital you’re working in right now for family-run one but you know it’s quite impossible to not get involved when you, yourself is a doctor.

“we weren’t the ones who went under the radar and came back and got married to the second son of kimcorp.” yuju huffs sulkily, cheeks pinked from the champagne she’s had but she isn’t that far gone when she clamps her mouth shut a second later, eyebrows furrowing in guilt.

sowon nudges her side anyway, mouthing her something as your gaze falls on the light caught in your black gucci heels.

“i-i’m sorry, ___ that didn’t come out right.” comes a heartbeat later, she sounds just as sorry as her words as you offer her a small smile. 

“it’s okay, it’s the truth anyway.”

“stop that,” eunha suddenly gripes, her gaze boring into you and rips apart the barrier you’ve tried so hard to maintain, “we’ve been friends since elementary school, we know how whipped you are for that asshole so-” she sniffles while you’re left wondering if it’s her who had an ex-fiance break if off and had his parents relay the news on a bi-weekly dinner. 

“she’s trying to say you can cry or get mad or curse that dipshit around us. don’t hold back.” sowon finishes, lips twitching as she enjoys watching the vulnerable state of the otherwise fiercest one among you.

something in your chest feels light. like a weight being lifted off your shoulders as you study the girl’s face one by one. sowon’s and yerin’s smirk, yuju’s nodding and eunha’s teary eyes. 

“yoongi, he’s-” you take a deep breath and it feels almost dramatic as the second stretches on while you build up the hurt, the anxiousness, the disbelief that the man put you through, “-a fucking idiot.”

“you bet he is,” yerin’s basically screams, swiping a glass for you and holding hers up, “that fucking idiot.”

you tighten your side hug on eunha in an ‘i’m okay’ gesture as you clink your glasses together.

it’s a few moments later that murmurs start to spread around. the tension that comes with the latest arrived guest thick enough to command every attention in the room.

“she’s ballsy. coming here.” sowon offhandedly comments, eyes trained on the girl who has her hand on yoongi’s arm like an iron clamp. “right into the lion’s den.”

she may not have her parents’ money to groom her into the women you and the girls are. but maybe that’s why she has her own air. her poised steps, coupled with a cocktail creme laced dress and relaxed smile easily gives her an innocent cloak. someone friendly and good-tempered and can adjust well to her suddenly-plunged-into-money circumstance when she married yoongi. that must have been why you never heard any bad rumors about her even though there’s almost always at least one gossip enthusiast in these socials.

“ugh, i hate her!” yuju hisses, eyes more focused as she places her glass onto one of the waiter’s trays.

“i-i think i’m going to get myself some snacks.” with that, you slip past the guests until you’re at the end of the room, standing in front of the everything-you-can-eat table lined up with pastries only from the best bakes.

that moment, when you looked from her to yoongi, your eyes met. his hair is a little longer than you remember it, flowing in light blue tresses until just a few centimeters above his eyebrows. the first two buttons of his shirt is undone. her doesn’t wear a necktie - he despises how suffocating they feel. but he’s managed to keep on his blazer - he used to say they were hot and took them off and left them in the back seat of the car when you arrived at an event. he used to attend these events with you. just the two of you. for four years. you thought you’d keep doing so for longer after you got married.

“you know, they’re not plastic and made for display.” a voice breaks you from your train of thoughts.

“p-pardon?” you blink once. confused.

“the pastries,” namjoon lulls his head to the side where towers of tarts, macaroons, pavlova and sliced cakes stand tall and proud, “they’re edible.”

it takes a moment for you to register that he was joking - kim namjoon? cracking jokes?

his smile tilts higher when you chuckle. it’s brief but the look of relief oh his face lingers. he must have seen you escape from your group of friends. and this is his own way of checking up on you.

“thank you, namjoon.” you murmur low enough for only you and him to hear, lips tugging in the corners. “but i’m fine - i just - seeing him for the first time like this - it’s just unexpected. even though this is an annual dinner held by his family and he has every right to be here.”

“that’s her? the ex-fiancee?” a guest asks in a hushed tone somewhere a few feet away. but she’s not very discreet as she thinks she is.

“yeah, she couldn’t get the older brother so she went for the younger one.”

apparently, her company needs to attend classes on how-to-whisper-101 too.

“how mortifying. and the brother just goes with it?”

“he must have felt compelled to save her face. you know how nice and well-mannered he is-”

the low noise namjoon makes under his breath catches your attention. the muscles on his face is strained and twisted. it barely shows. just a crease between his eyebrows and the lack of smile. he hardly ever smiles from the tabloids and interviews you’ve seen of him so people might not notice the displeasure. but after a whole month of knowing namjoon, if there’s anything you can say for certain about the man, it’s the stockpile of smiles he has to offer.

“namjoon, it’s okay. i don’t care.” you smile, it’s forced and you know he notices it right off the bat but sighs anyway, shoulder line falling just slightly as he runs a hand over his sleek styled hair.

his lips move and you hear the words he uttered but somehow your mind couldn’t comprehend the information without going blank. “s-sorry?”

“it agitates me that they’re freely spewing bullshit like this,” he huffs, cheeks tinted pink at having to repeat his words. “it’s taking everything in me not to go over there and tell them their husbands have at least one business deal with kimcorp. and i can end it and it’d plunge their family into bankruptcy.”

“wh-why would you do such a thing?” the question comes out almost dumbly but if it did, he doesn’t say. he just... keeps looking at you.

you’re barely able hold yourself from squirming under his scrutiny, the smile now awkward in all places.

“if you don’t mind, can i kiss you?” his eyes widen just the slightest bit as he corrects himself, “on the forehead i mean.”

he clears his throat, eyes straying away from you as if he couldn’t bear to look at your face after that mistake. “just so i can prove to them i wasn’t forced to marry you.”

the light pinkish blush spreads to the tip of his ears and neck as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. you’re not sure why, but the sight in front of you is endearing and you find yourself saying-

“okay, kiss me.”

you didn’t specify where. and maybe, as the heat flares across your own cheeks when his arm band around your waist and a warm hand presses up against you cheekbone - maybe you want him to kiss you somewhere else.

the chatter stops and so does time. but it’s only for as long as namjoon’s full lips are on your forehead, kissing you for the second time. then, time resumes and murmurs begin to spread louder than when yoongi made his arrival. when the gravelly voice speaks from somewhere behind namjoon, you know why.

“get a room, will you?” yoongi’s tone is light - you’d taken a whole year getting used to it to know he’s being playful and not condescending.

“yoongi.” namjoon greets, unlike the elder man, his sounds better natured but there’s a sort of underlying detachment. his arm is still on your lower back almost as if he needs to feel that you’re here or he’d be completely detached. “i didn’t think you’d show up. you hate these events.”

the aforementioned man draws out a long sigh as though he’s been found out over a poorly told lie. “i don’t but naeun wanted to go - you know how things are with mom and dad. she thinks it’s gonna make them open up.”

it’s no secret your father and mother-in-law doesn’t talk about yoongi’s marriage - they never do around you but you thought they were being considerate. but what yoongi’s saying right now could mean his relationship with his parents are far more strained than you thought it’d be. especially since they had let him marry the girl of his dreams who’s clearly below their standards.

she - naeun - is standing somewhere near the exit, conversing with the notorious older generation that yerin duped ‘the wickeds’. for their ways of gaining wealth, for their poor treatment towards their employees, for socially shunning a young man - new money, for addressing one of them casually. she is ballsy.

“it’s been awhile,” yoongi’s directly addressing you now. the tug on his lips as playful as an old friend’s greeting. you don’t know how he can look at you like nothing happened. “you’re finally a resident now, huh?”

“yeah, finally.” you smile, the kind of smile that celebrates her triumph. the celebration part is true but the smile is every bit unnatural. but it seems to fool yoongi as he nods, proud.

somewhere in your chest, the strings on your heart clenches at the unchanging personality of this man. no wonder you like him.

before the conversation can tread further down memory lane, there’s an announcement to have the guests move to another room where dinner is being served.

“we’ll get going first then.” namjoon announces, guiding you by the waist as yoongi nods, waiting for naeun to come to his side before going in himself.

x

 dinner went smoother than expected. yoongi and naeun showed up uninvited and were placed in the back seats where the people socially displaced guests are. you felt bad when you saw naeun’s distorted expression as waiters bring in chairs to the table for the both of them. but there’s nothing you could have done.

“you have an 8am shift tomorrow, right?” namjoon asks as you slip your heels off, wincing at when one of them brushes against the blisters. they’re gonna be a bitch to deal with tomorrow.

stretching your arms out as you walk up the stairs, you hum in confirmation. “mhm, and you have dinner with ms. yoo, right?”

it’s ironic how you know each other’s schedule despite not being anything more than two people sharing one house and happens to be married. guess you’ll chalk it up with the fact that you both respect each other enough to be aware of each other’s whereabouts - not the creepy kind of way but the share-me-your-live-location-so-i-know-you’re-safe kind of way.

namjoon was quiet until you take a left to where the guest bedroom-turned-permanent-bedroom is, “it got rescheduled.”

your hand hovers over the door handle as you crane your neck to look at the man on the top of the stairs. his bow tie is loosened, the button to his color undone and his blazer is draped over one arm - a telltale sign of a final end to the night. “i was hoping we could have dinner to together. after work.”

yes but you don’t usually go straight home after work. you usually spend time at the library either at your previous college or at the hospital. you’ve decided to continue your research no matter how taxing it may be since you came back from the honeymoon. namjoon knows and the fact he asks you to dinner anyway - it’s unlike him.

he’s the kind of person that would ask if you had free time and match his schedule to yours. not ask for your time.

“yeah, sure.” you say and you think you see his shoulder line sagging as if he’s just let out a long-held breath, “pick me up at 8?”

“yeah.” he nods, dimples showing as his lips curl at your answer, “at 8.”

only when the door closes behind you, do you let yourself slide down to the ground. heels lying next to your thighs and dress in need of being sent for washing. your cheeks are and neck and ears are hot. dinner? just you and namjoon? like... a date?

x

jisoo isn’t around when lunch rolls by.

“a patient got rolled into er this morning - couldn’t contact any of his family members. suho decided to go ahead with surgery but he reacted badly to the anesthesia so she had to make up for her suho’s mistake and monitor his patient.” jennie’s face scrunches at the other woman’s supervisor pushing the task on her. shoving a forkful of the cheese cake, she sighs as the medical professional side take over, “thank god the surgery went smoothly though despite all that.”

you hum in contemplation, comparing the well-established crazy bitch seokjin who pushes those under his supervision to their limits and suho’s less-than-extreme approach. you used to envy jisoo and jennie for getting suho as their supervisor but at the end of the day, with every push from seokjin, you get out of it stronger and wiser. “i hope she doesn’t forget to have her meals.”

the day ends faster than usual. of course with rounds and surgeries you have to assist with, you’ve always find yourself barely realizing the setting sun - the sign of that your shift has ended.

but you could have sworn it was 5pm when you last checked the time. an car crash patient had arrived at the er and you forgot you’d left your phone on your desk, running out to assist the critical patient. it’s only when you’ve plopped into your recliner, head thrown back in fatigue, do you notice the vibration of your phone.

namjoon’s name flashes across your screen. your eyes almost bulges out of their sockets as you swipe to the right.

the deep voice from the other end is as calm as ever, “hey, ___-”

“namjoon!” you almost scream with guilt, phone pressed between your cheek and your shoulder as you shrug the coat off one shoulder before using the free now free hand to hold the phone and shrug off the other shoulder, “where are you?”

“i’m at the parking lot. i couldn’t wait at the lobby because i was obstructing the other cars - i called you a few times.” he sounds almost concerned and your heart clenches tightly in you chest at the thought of him waiting for you for over an hour.

you burst onto the parking lot - searching for the sleek black audi until a red bugatti rolls over. you’re about to take a step back seeing as you’re almost standing in the middle of the road - when the driver on the other side of the car steps out. his usually gelled hair is mussed from the amount of times he ran his hand over it, cuffs rolled to just below his elbow, revealing the dark veins that run just below the skin on his arm. 

namjoon fixes you with that eased smile, going around the gently purring vehicle and opening the door to the passenger seat for you. the arm which hand he uses to hold the door open pulls on the thin fabric of his button down in all the right places. so this is a the normal end-of-the-day look.

you always get back a bit later than him and by the time he looks up from his work that’s laid out over the coffee table, he would usually already have bathed and changed into one of those long-sleeved shirts.

x

the restaurant he initially booked for dinner had cancelled. naturally. so you end up in a barbecue place five minutes away from the hospital. this is where you and your colleagues go when to celebrate a birthday, promotion or finally-having-a-boyfriend/girlfriend.

the slices of meat sizzles on the grill, its marinated aroma wafting in the air. but your stomach churns with a different kind of sensation - guilt. “i-i’m sorry. because of me you had to wait an hour and got cancelled by the restaurant.”

then, he chuckles. it’s the same kind of good natured chuckle that reverberates every time you say something amusing - but you can’t see how any of this is.

his says your name. the syllabus rolls out of his tongue in waves but you chalk up the blush spreading on your face with the heat of the grill so close to you. he leans back against the backrest, sleeves filled out to the brim as he crosses his arms over his chest. “you were the one saving a life. all i did was wait.”

“y-yeah but still.” no emergency is foreseeable, otherwise you could have saved more lives than you do now. and it’s still not enough. “i forgot about you.”

namjoon nods, taking your words into consideration - as if he never thought about it that way. as if he truly doesn’t mind wasting his time over some woman he has to tolerate because he’s married to her. “cook me dinner then.”

“wh-what?”

“i don’t want you to beat yourself up and i know whatever i say is going to come off as me being nice.” the corners in his lips tugs upwards, “so make it to me by cooking dinner.”

once your brain is done registering what he said, you clutch your hands in your lap as though you’re clinging onto this one time chance to make up for your fault, “yes! i-i mean yeah, sounds fair.”

the smooth sound of his chuckle isn’t lost to the sizzle of the meat. to him, it must be a small matter but to you, it’s a matter of pride.

“this saturday then?” you offer, a bit too eager.

almost as if remembering something, he releases a long drawn out sigh, “business trip to tokyo.”

“next weekend?”

“mom’s home sweeter home fundraiser for the orphans on saturday. sunday?”

“night shift. how bout breakfast?”

“golf with seollyu’s director.”

a heavy pause lapses in the room. after a moment, namjoon reaches for the chopsticks, flipping the slices of meat over.

your shoulders sag, lips pursed in a pout. this isn’t an unusual occurrence in your years of being the daughter of your family. your father is devoutly involved in the family business and your mother is busy with her charity work. you’ve celebrated birthdays with the staff more than you do with them.

the glint of the chopstick that’s placing a piece of meat on your plate catches your eyes. you study the long nimble fingers to the vein that runs from the back of its hand and disappear somewhere below his arm before you gulp, meeting his eyes - did he notice you checking out his arm?

“we’ll figure something out.” if he did, he doesn’t say as he fixes you with an assuring smile, “but right now you need to get some food in you. eat up dr. ___. you did great today at work.”

this time, you really can’t blame the grill for the blush.

x

“you could’ve told mom you couldn’t do brunch.” namjoon tells you in the elevator to the 15th floor of your in-laws’ house. it’s been three days since that night. he’s left for work but prior to this morning, he’d already made it clear that it was no problem at all picking you up from home.

he’s probably saying this because of the lack of makeup you’d put on. some pats of compact powder and bright red lipstick can’t hide the bags underneath those tired eyes. you’d spend extra hours reading about the defective genes and the fix to remodel them so every child born from parents from a history of relatives with inheritable diseases could live a life without the risk of said disease.

“i’m fine.” you wave a dismissive hand before stretching in the compact space in a last ditch attempt to wake yourself up and hopefully look fresher by the time you reach the floor. “’sides, i’ve been so focused on work, it’s nice to see mom and dad every once in awhile.”

you’ve gotten used to referring to mr. and mrs. kim as if they’re your own parents - in a way, they are. you’ve known them for as long as you can remember.

“you have to be at the hospital by noon, right?”

you hum in confirmation. though you insisted on grabbing a cab to the hospital since it’s on the opposite side of the office, namjoon had insisted better. “mhm, oh we’re here.”

a ding! echoes throughout the elevator when it stops, doors opening to a hallway with black and yellow walls and ceiling, paired with honey marble flooring. it takes a few seconds before the black door at the end of the hallway to swing open but instead of the warm smile of the elderly lady, a bring and vibrant naeun beams at the both of you.

“you’re here. come in.” she steps aside, the hem of her sundress fluttering as she moves.

your body tenses at the proximity of the woman who you thought you could avoid until a much later time. and from the barely noticeable lifted brows that namjoon does, you know he wasn’t expecting his sister-in-law too. if she’s here, so is yoongi.

“we picked these up on the way.” you hand her the paris baguette paper bag. you’d ordered a mix of fruit tarts, cinnamon rolls and macaroon. all of which you remember mrs. kim mentioning to be her favorites. 

“oh! you shouldn’t have but thank you.” up close, naeun is much more prettier with a natural pinkish tint across her cheeks that makes her seem dreamy and glossed cheery lips that complements the gentle air she carries around. she passes the bag to one of the staff that’ll probably unbox them and plate them.

you offer her a smile - though a bit strained. and she must have noticed when she sighs softly, eyes darting to her fuchsia flats before looking back up at you with a furrowed brows. but even when she’s frowning, she’s pretty.

“i’ve been wanting to meet you and properly apologize for not being able to attend the wedding - i had an exhibition that day in prague and yoongi wouldn’t let me go by myself even though i thought at least one of us should go to his brother’s wedding.” she chuckles at the last part as if replaying the heartwarming scene of her protective husband choosing his wife over his family. you can feel every fiber of your body coiling and writhing - it takes everything for you not to leave through the door. would yoongi have done the same for you?

“this must be awkward for you, isn’t it?” her lips tug into a half-smile - a telltale that she’s equally uncomfortable to talk about this topic. “with you and yoongi being engaged before but now i’m the one married to him. but i hope we can put everything past us and be a family.”

but something in the way she talks - it’s as if she sympathizes. as if she���s saying it’s okay, you shouldn’t feel ashamed. but what are you supposed to be shameful of? of being engaged to yoongi before? of marrying his brother when said engagement fell through? perhaps you should have gave mrs. kim a hard ‘no’ when she pleaded with teary eyes for you and your parents’ forgiveness when she and mr. kim had to break the news over dinner two years ago. so you wouldn’t have to develop a hard skin and pretend you didn’t care about the ruthless rumors that have spread far and wide after your marriage to namjoon. 

“oh? yeah, it was a long time ago.” you offhandedly say - it’s that moment, when her eyes twitches just the slightest bit that you realize it wasn’t all just in your head. she did mean to make you feel embarrassed when she started mentioning the engagement.

you join namjoon and mrs. kim at the garden while naeun follows suit a second later, taking the middle among the three seats. the elder woman’s eyes light up at the sight of you, her heels clacking against the wooden flooring as she crosses the distance and engulfs you in a hug. you hug back, smiling at the woman’s motherly warmth.

“___, my favorite daughter, what happened to you?” she cups your cheeks, brows furrowing as she seem to examine your complexion.

you should’ve used concealer. 

“the hospital is working you to the bone isn’t it? why, it’s been awhile since i had lunch with chairman lee, maybe i should give his wife a call.”

that’s how it works when you have connections. if someone’s daughter or son fails to get into college or a job through regular exams or interviews, a dinner or lunch with the director of the institution will get the child admitted overnight. that’s probably why seokjin was harder on you than usual when you got back from your honeymoon - he must think you’re not serious about being a doctor. it’s not a secret he came from old money but he’d cut off all ties with his family when he started working. he has more ethics than half of the people you know.

“___ doesn’t like it when you do these things, mom.” yoongi grumbles - always the painfully honest one. the chair screeches as he pulls it and plops between naeun and namjoon while their father occupies the seat next to mrs. kim. it looks like they just came from mr. kim’s home office. and judging from the stiffness of their posture, the talk must have been a serious one.

namjoon’s shoulder line tightens just the slightest bit - you almost thought it was just a figment of your imagination but when you steal a glance at his face, you know he’s not too keen in having yoongi sit next to him. so you weren’t imagining it when he seemed like he was escaping yoongi by not waiting for naeun to come and walk with you to into the dining hall.

you’re not lost to yoongi’s familiar tone when he spoke on your behalf. but you’re not happy either. forcing a laugh, you push a strand to the back of your ear for the sake of doing something, “i-it’s not the hospital. i’ve been staying up late to work a bit on my research.”

a worker comes with the baked goods you brought. they’re plated on perfectly polished ceramic - you can easily see your forced smile in its reflection when the woman sets them down the table in front of you. 

“research?” yoongi lifts one eyebrow at you. too casually. and it takes you back to those times when you used to visit him at his college’s library and you’d bring your homework with you whilst you slip in a few ‘what i did’s as he typed away on his mac but still managed to keep up with you and asked questions here and there. a sign that he’d been present and listening.

“___’s been working on researching how segregate defective genes during the fetal stage so the fetus won’t take on their parents’ inherent diseases when they’re born.” namjoon explains the simplified version almost as though it’s part of his day-to-day line of work. he grins at you, the corners of his lips tugging with pride - a gratification of being able to show you off.

“that’s good. you’re making a difference in this world.” mr. kim is the first to break the silence. and in the years you’ve known him, it means the highest level of flattery you’ll ever get from the man.

your cheeks are flushed red and you know well enough it’s not because of mr. kim’s compliment than it is his son’s. “it’s still just a research draft but th-thank you. mister-” the elder man raises his brow and you quickly correct yourself, “i mean, dad.” 

he nods at the word, the slightest hint of smile disappearing under the cup of tea he brings to his mouth.

“but still, don’t push yourself too hard. working as a doctor takes up a lot of time already.” naeun fixes you with a worried gaze but something about her tone makes your stomach churn - it’s as if she’s playing down the time and effort you’d invested in your research and reminding you to focus on your paying job. even if you did downplay yourself when you were responding to mr. kim. before you can sort out the wave of emotions clashing inside you, namjoon seems to beat you to it.

“not everyone can do what ___’s doing. it’s okay if she wants to do more,” a hand slips under yours in your lap, reverting your gaze from the beautiful woman to the apparent difference in the size of yours and namjoon before you turn your cheek to him. it was a mistake because now you’re holding your breath as you come face to face. his body is leaned into you as he speaks, “i’ll just take care of ___ better.”

he turns to naeun, lips twitching upwards in a brief smile as if to enforce it more and putting a finality to the topic. but you’re left staring at namjoon’s sharp jawline until mrs. kim makes a squealing sound as she clamps her mouth shut in an attempt to tease you.

“gosh, is my baby all grown up now? he’s saying he’ll take care of his wife!”

the chuckle you let out is nowhere near natural or entertained. not when your insides are burning and you think your heart is going into overdrive from how fast it’s beating. and it doesn’t help that namjoon’s too casually playing along “of course, i only have one wife.”

x

“namjoon,” you take a second to gather yourself, hands fiddling in your lap as the car rolls to a stop in front of the lobby. the man fixes you with an inquisitive gaze. of course, who wouldn’t be wondering what’s up if their name was spoken with so much weight in them like you did with namjoon’s? “what was that? the wife thing?”

he stares into the street as he sifts through his memory before he fixes you with a gaze clouded with guilt, “i’m sorry. i got carried away - it won’t happen again.”

and that’s the thing. namjoon is too fast in admitting his fault. but you didn’t bring it up because you wanted an apology-

“no, i don’t mind.” you shake your head almost too eagerly before back tracking and clearing your throat, “i mean, it’s true. we’re married - i am your wife.”

the corners of his lips upturns at your last words and he doesn’t bother to hide it as he waits for you to finish - but how can you when he’s looking at you so tenderly like that?

“it’s just - too soon?” you curse yourself for sounding so meek but any louder, your heart might just jump out of your throat.

namjoon nods, that contemplative look settling on his face and takes away that smile only to return it with a dimpled grin. one hand slides in between yours and guiding the back of your hand to his lips.

“we’ll take it slow then.”

you can only nod, afraid that if you tried to speak, you would forget how to. the light rap on your side of the window catches both your attention. it’s the parking management. stealing a glance at the cars that are beginning to queue up behind you, you hurriedly gather your bag and hop out of the car.

cheeks flushed, you barely register waving back at namjoon when he leans over the passenger seat just to shoot you that dimpled smile and a ‘see you at home’.

you turn on your heels. the sharp click bounces against the white walls. a small smile spreads across your lips as you think about namjoon’s words.

yeah, the penthouse does feel like home.

x

this isn’t slow at all. you’re barely progressing.

it feels like everyday is passing by too fast what with the abundance of functions you’ve told namjoon you wanted to go with when you’re not working, to cramming some time for research and trying to find the time to at least make breakfast when you’re not on morning shift. though on some mornings, he’d beat you to breakfast and you’d wake up to the delectable smell of omelette or bacon.

“you must be thrilled about the new hospital, mrs. kim,” mrs. hwan is generally an agreeable woman along with her husband, the president of a small startup firm. they’re the first couple to approach you and namjoon since you arrived at the party. but that’s just it - the smiling, the talking, the eagerness doesn’t show in their eyes. it’s all about building connections while maintaining a good enough acquaintanceship. “are you going to be managing it directly since you’re a doctor yourself?”

“naturally,” the tug on your lips and the smoothness of your response is almost effortless. you’re no stranger to this scene - except back then, you would be standing next to yoongi. though your hand wouldn’t be tucked in his arm like yours is with namjoon. “though i still have a lot to learn, i hope the next two years will help me prepare to for eden.”

two years is the estimated time that eden hospital will be able to run. you’d finish your residency by then. all that’s left is to take the next step. just like your parents had planned for you as they’d planned many things. you never had the power to object.

mrs. hwan goes on to sprinkling empty praises while her husband laughs in deflated humor. they say the way to a successful business deal is through the wife.

once namjoon gets swamped by more people, you gently pull your hand away from his arm. you don’t miss the pleading look he fixes you when he notices your intention but you can only return a ‘you can do it!’ smile and slip away from the limelight.

the balcony area is dark, illuminated only by the fading light the pours over the floor past the door frame. you don’t expect the air to be this chilly at the beginning of summer but then again, namjoon did suggest bringing a coat - you were just too stubborn to because it would ruin the off shoulder look of your dress.

a sneeze escapes you a moment later as you hug yourself in an attempt to retain your body heat. but the warmth that engulfs you seems impossible to have come from just your puny palms - heck, your fingers were starting to feel prickly cold. there’s a sort of weight on your shoulders that wasn’t there before-

“idiot, you’re gonna catch a cold.” yoongi tuts from next to you - he has his hands in his pockets, all donned in crisp white shirt and checkered grey trousers and vest. all that’s missing is a matching blazer - the one that he placed around you just now.

somewhere in the recesses of your memories, you remember him taking off the muffler he had on and wrapping it around your neck when you showed up for your ‘christmas date’ with a pink nose and pinker ears - you could barely feel them. yoongi was that kind of person - the kind that acted like everything is a whole load of inconvenience and yet went to greater length to inconvenient himself for you.

“thanks. i thought i was going to freeze to death if i have to hide out here for another hour.” you tug the thick material of the blazer closer - the warmth of his heat feels just right.

“then you shouldn’t have come in the first place.” he must have noticed the higher-than-an-octave tone he uses before ruffling his hair - it’s the first you’ve ever seen him so unsure. is it really because of you?

“it’s fine. besides, what kind of wife would i be if i let namjoon get eaten by the pack of wolves by himself?” you chuckle at the fact that you’d done just that when you escaped the growing crowd of businessmen.

but when you notice the lack of humor on yoongi’s face, your own dies down. he’s staring at you with an indecipherable look. it’s not the bored expression he usually sports - not also the anger from the outburst just now. before you can say anything, namjoon’s lean silhouette appears in the doorway. you can’t see his face but his tone is strained. “we’re leaving, if you’re both done catching up.”

“so soon?” you know for a fact it probably hasn’t even been fifteen minutes - and you’re supposed to linger for at least two hours before leaving. that’d be enough time for namjoon to scout any potential business associate - the worthy ones at least.

“hey little bro.” yoongi waves, the disinterested look now returning but the way he phrases his next words oozes with revulsion. it’s no surprise. while yoongi hates these events - he’s probably here because of naeun, you heard the director of seoul’s annual art exhibition is here - namjoon strives off it. garnering attention and making the best of it by bringing in stockholders. “had enough of ass licking?”

you never understand the tangibility of the tension that feels the air when these two brothers are in the same room together - they’re barely able to remain civil in the presence of mr. and mrs. kim. anywhere without their parents’ watchful eyes, a fight would always be at risk of breaking out. whenever you were around, you’d be the one to interfere, whether it’s to tug on yoongi’s sleeve and tell him you’re hungry, or step in front of him just so he’d remember you’re here or right now-

“thank you, yoongi.” folding the blazer in half, you hand it back to the man - only that he’s not taking it back. momentarily, you wonder if you’d stained it with your lipstick or foundation but the lapels never touched anywhere above your neck. but deep in the crook of your conscience, you know it’s when his mind retracts back to you, to the present.

the sigh that escapes yoongi is a telltale of fatigue - you wonder if this is the first time of the day he came out of his studio. taking the blazer from your outstretched hand, he slings it over his shoulder, “don’t get too caught up with these functions. focus on your goal.”

your goal meaning what comes next in your career: the fellowship. you thought that information was lost on him, buried among the many things you told him just because you were comfortable telling him everything. 

and as you watch him walk back into the lion’s den, you wonder, how didn’t you realize he was in love with someone else during the visits you paid while he was doing his masters and phd?

x

namjoon doesn’t say anything about yoongi in the car. but both his hands are on the wheel. knuckles a little paler from holding onto the wheel.

“you don’t have to be part of eden’s board of directors.” he huffs, as though annoyed but from the way he continues, you know he’s not annoyed at you. he’s annoyed at himself. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to - i don’t want to force anything on you.”

and you know - you know more than anyone how conscious namjoon is of things. from the change in your mood to the people that tries to get close to him because of his status - that’s also why he didn’t kiss you on your lips that day. but a kiss was the prerequisite of a vow so he kissed you on the forehead. the area where his lips landed burns your skin as your cheeks flush from the memory.

“i know.” you hesitate for a heartbeat but reach out to cover one of his hands on the wheel still. to let him know that you’re not just saying that to ease the guilt.

when you pull away from the thought of how risky and distracting what you did was, the hand that you were lightly caressing pulls at yours, intertwining your fingers as he keeps them on his thigh. your entire body burns from the contact yet you’re sitting frozen in your spot. it’s the gentle squeeze on your hand that brings you out of your shell-shock state. a smile tugs on your lips subconsciously as you squeeze back.

x

the following week, you almost got into a fight with namjoon when he caught you dressing up prettily. he told you it was okay not to attend these functions anymore - the ones your tight schedule barely allow you to. fight was an overstatement. your feelings were hurt when he’d kissed your temple and said, “it’s okay, you don’t have to push yourself.”

well, you were but he wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. “can’t you see? i wanna spend more time with you and the only way i can is if we attend these functions together.”

in hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have thrown your strapless black diamond purse at him out of frustration.

but the following functions, you did spend more time together. he’d declined the usual advancement of business people the way only kim namjoon could pull off - with a dimpled smile and a hand around your waist as if to indicate that they were interrupting - and they were. they’d come up to the both of you while you were telling namjoon about a new skillet spaghetti recipe you’d wanted to try making for the long overdue dinner you owe him. and you’d expected someone to approach namjoon and take his attention away but you didn’t think he’d decline them.

“hm? i don’t think we have tomatoes or beef. should we go grocery shopping?” he suggests calmly as though he didn’t just turn down the chairman of tvn broadcast. the man had to do a double take in case he had mistaken namjoon’s smooth rejection.

you place a hand on his chest, restraining the urge to pull your hand away as if you’ve touched fire. you knew he goes to the gym for an hour after work and his shirts always seem a size too small around his arms but you didn’t expect anything beyond that underneath that shirt of his. you clear your throat when you realize his neck is craned so he could look at you - give you all the attention in the world, “you know, we can discuss dinner some other time - when you’re free.”

but neither of you are free. you barely see each other at home because of your unpredictable schedule and his that’s set in stone.

“then what would you rather us talk about right now?” a corner of his lips tugs upwards. if you first met him, you wouldn’t easily dismiss the smile as nothing more than because of his amiable nature. but you’ve been married for almost five months now and you clearly pick up on the playfulness that lights up his eyes.

“the desserts.” you announce too quickly in an attempt to avert his attention from what he’s thinking - one thing you’ve realized is that namjoon is painfully aware of your blushing fits and your avoidance to look him in the eyes. “they’re nice, aren’t they?”

all of a sudden, he’s scooping a forkful of the chocolate souffle he’d picked up from the desserts section while you’d opted for the luscious almond torte. a small smirk tugs on his lips as he holds the fork to your mouth the way he does during breakfast. he knows you have no objections of being fed like a child but he also knows where you stand with public display of affection.

“say ‘aaaaa’ and i’ll give you a treat, doctor ___.” and he loves to tease you. he’s taken to calling you that because of that one incident where he’d seen you discuss about a patient with one of the nurses while you were on your way to meet him. in his own words, he’d ‘never seen you this scary before.’

in your defense, it was five minutes till lunch break so it was still working hours and you were acting the way you usually did at work - but you’d understand. the person you are with friends and the person you are at work are two separate entities. suppose you’ve mastered separating personal business and work. namjoon seems to take pleasure in making that steadfast side of you squirm and blush like a tomato.

your fingerpads gently grazes the back of his hand as you hold the fork in place before taking it in your mouth. your eyes flit over namjoon’s for the briefest moment before taking a step back, licking the residue of souffle off your lips.

“they really are nice.” you murmur as you throw your gaze at the stage where a man sits at the piano before flickering back to namjoon.

you wonder why he’s so quiet all of a sudden -

the man in question still has the empty fork in the air, eyes wide and staring at you, you would’ve thought he’d seen a ghost. until you notice the dust of pink across his cheek and spread to the tip of his ears.

oh?

x

mrs. kim’s fundraiser is held at the school where the children attended. about four canopies were set up on the field. one for the children’s activities - you remember reading something about coloring, origami-making and storybook reading.  the volunteers - possibly college students hoping to earn the graces of kimcorp’s president’s wife for an internship - already have the children huddled up in groups of three or four.

one canopy is specifically set up for a table of wide range of food - if there’s anything you like about these functions, it’s the abundance of food they never fail to prepare. as if spending a lot of money on a fundraising event is something to flex about.

the other two canopies are for the people of interest - acquaintances of mrs. kim and those who come with an ulterior motive be it to get sponsors for their own project, a business deal or simply to regain a higher social hierarchy by falling into your mother-in-law’s graces.

you press a light kiss on namjoon’s cheek before he’s whisked away by the second category. business men who jump at the sight of your ceo husband who got a fair warning from mrs. kim to “play nice. what’s gotten into you all of a sudden? these days i keep hearing things about you turning chairmen down! your father didn’t work this hard just to raise a stuck up son that could ruin his business in a matter of days.”

once you’ve had a slice of red velvet and tiny macaroons, you decide to hide yourself from the few people who try to do the same to you when namjoon is too preoccupied by the ones who claimed his attention first. just like preys on the top of the pyramid sinking its claws, the lower level preys couldn’t come close.

but one manages to follow you into one of the classrooms.

“nothing’s changed has it?’ yoongi stands in the doorway, tuxedo and brown loafers and all. hands tucked into both his pockets, he strides across the room and stops in front of the window that overlooks the light pink canopies and the people underneath them. “same old assholes using a charitable cause to proliferate their influence.”

the muscles on your face pulls your lips into a disapproving frown, “that’s how our parents manage to give us an education. a good life.” you don’t agree to the way they go about it but you give credit where it’s due.

yoongi scoffs, his shoulders jolting slightly. you can’t see his face as he stands with his back on you but you know he’s smirking that condescending smirk. the first time you saw it was when you were in your senior year of high school and yoongi was doing his masters in business and accounting. he’d looked down on the man who approached the two of you like he was scum just because everyone knew his company was wallowing in debt and he’s desperate enough to ask the lion who hates the jungle for help.

“always finding a middle ground. if you like what they do so much, why did you become a doctor? why didn’t you follow their footsteps, huh?”

you can’t help but let out a tired sigh. you’ve been here before. you’ve seen this. yoongi hates the world he’s born in and you understand why but you can never feel what he feels. “why are you here, yoongi? shouldn’t you be with naeun?” there’s a pause. a heartbeat before you decide to let yourself free. say what you want to say. “before the wolves get to her.”

“she’s fine.” it's almost offensive how haughty he sounds. he must either be aware of nauen’s innocence that makes the wolves eliminate the possibility of her being a threat or he just doesn’t care. the latter presumption makes your stomach churn.

did he also not care about you when you were together? when you went to these events as a couple?

“we should head back. it would be bad if anyone saw us alone like this even though we’re just talking.” and that’s that. you turn on your heels, making way to the door but before you can even take another step forward, lithe fingers wrap around your wrist.

“what?” it comes out harsher than you intend it. funny how you put on a face of a woman made out of steel when your knees can barely hold your weight the moment you feel his warm hand on your skin.

“i knew - i knew but i didn’t want to tie you down.” with his head lowered and his long hair, you can’t see his eyes for an idea of what he’s saying. 

“yoongi, what-”

“i knew how you felt.” at that moment, his grip on you loosens. it’s almost as though it’s an overdue confession and the weight on his shoulders has finally lifted, “you only knew me - you turned down every boy that tried to ask you out in high school and college. you -you were only looking at me and i didn’t want that on my shoulders - i didn’t want you to turn down every opportunity to life - to dating, to heart break to - to sex with someone - several someone’s just because we were engaged.”

his fingers traces down your index finger before falling away. but you won’t tell him - you can never do it to namjoon - that it took all of you not to twine your fingers with his just because it felt like he was letting go.

your breath hitches in your throat when you turn your cheek towards him. the sight before you is something you’d never thought you’d see in your entire life. yoongi’s pink dusts his otherwise snowflake skin. the bored expression he usually wears is gone - almost as if he’s never worn it his entire life as something akin to desperation pools in those dark eyes. his soft pink lips are agape as though he wants to say something. and you wait, wait, wait but he never does.

so you turn your back on him, heels clicking against the ground as you slip past the door without a word. only when you’re at the end of the hallway, do you turn the corner, back pressed against the wall because your buckling legs might not be able to handle your weight.

those unsaid words - you can hear them clearly: i fucking regret letting you go.

x

the following week, you spend by drowning yourself in work and later working on your research until the library closes. by the time you’re pressing the 20th floor to the penthouse you both shared, you know for certain namjoon’s gone to bed. he values his sleep time. says it’s essential to keep himself in a good mood so others who work with him would be at ease. sometimes you want to tell him it’s okay not to think about others for once but the words lay buried the depth of your heart because you’re exactly like him. suppressing your feelings, smiling and saying you’re okay even though you’re not. the only difference is there’s a side of you that wants to lash out, do something worse to those who hurt you while namjoon does it from the good of his heart.

“it’s hard, being nice.” he says in between the clink of the stirring of the spoon in his coffee mug.

you look up from the peanut butter you’re spreading over your toast. “hm?”

he shakes his head, as if to say it’s nothing, i’m just thinking out loud. but the words he says next is enough to make your heart drop right to the ground. “yoongi told me.”

“wh-what?” it’s denial in your tone - the combination of those three words are simple enough to take you back to the school nine days ago. in side that little classroom.

“yesterday. he came over to the office.” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal but the tensed line of his shoulders is apparent no matter how casually he brings the mug to his smiling lips - that too. his lips are smiling but his eyes are not.

you don’t know when or how you started noticing the little things. sensing namjoon’s moods - his reactions and his retractions. you never realized you were so in tune with the things he does. all you realize is you’re already able to read him like a book - thick, best-leather book that was safeguarded by a lock.

“namjoon,” the clink of the butter knife being set on your plate resonates like a pin drop in a vacuum room, “nothing happened. i promise.”

“i know - i know you’d never do anything like that so that’s why i’m telling you it’s okay.” something in the way he looks at you make you bite your tongue - as if he’s asking you to listen even though you’re bursting at the seams. you’d do anything to prove that nothing happened even though you knew he knew. “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just... keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”

he chuckles but it’s strained and tense, dumping the coffee into the sink because he couldn’t bear to stay in the kitchen any longer. you slip out of the high stool, feet padding around the counter and before you know it, your arms around his body. you feel him freeze under your touch and this is wrong - wrong on so many levels because he would have asked if he could touch you and you’re not reflecting the same amount of respect he had for you.

but for some reason, you can’t let go - you’re afraid if you let him walk out of the door, you’d never be able to grasp even a shadow of his existence.

“i don’t want to.” the words are muffled from your cheek pressing against his back.

a pause lapses between you when you don’t say anything else. no explanation. no reason. because you don’t know it yourself. you don’t know why your heart clenches in your chest at the sight of namjoon’s dismal smile. you don’t know why you acted on your instincts and hugged the man.

you don’t know.

“okay.” he sighs softly as a warm palm rests above your fisted hand. you wish you can see him - wish you can see what kind of expression he’s making because it’s killing you to not know what he’s thinking. “you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

that’s when the sniffle escapes you. internally, you curse yourself for being so emotion-driven. it’s not a good trait for a doctor to have.

namjoon calls your name. the syllabus rolling off his tongue makes your stomach churn with butterflies. “are you crying?”

you don’t expect him to say that. don’t expect the teasing undertone either. naturally, your respond comes a heartbeat later, “n-no.”

the body under your touch shifts. all of a sudden, you’re eye-to-eye with him. there’s a sparkle in them that almost makes you forget how to breathe. his dimples dig into his cheek as his lips curl into a smile whilst his large hands frames you face.

“wh-what?” you feel your brows furrowing, lips pursed.

“you’re too cute.” his thumb grazes your burning cheekbone feather light, “i want to kiss you.”

“then do it.” you don’t know the reason behind that angry, pressed tone but namjoon doesn’t seem to mind - or he knows something you don’t.

you don’t have the time to ponder on that when a pair of lush lips meshes with yours. the scent of the coffee he had engulfs your senses as one hand finds its way to the back of his neck and the other rests on his accelerating heartbeat. time seems to stop when namjoon’s kissing you. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctly remember something perpetually important but you couldn’t be bothered as his hands fall away from your face and finds the dip of your lower back and pull you closer until your bodies are pressed together.

somewhere in a distant, you hear the beep of the front door. hoseok’s voice booming across the hallway that leads to the living room and the kitchen where you’re at now.

“namjoon? you here? did you oversleep? man, i never thought i’d see the day our ceo is late to work.” hoseok’s footsteps stops at the end of the hallway, “oh great, you’re all dressed.”

he blinks, surprised at the sight of his boss who’s leaning against the edge of the sink - hands pressed on either side of the edge, doing absolutely nothing while you dip a butter knife into a jar of peanut butter and jelly but equally as out-of-it as his boss appear to be.

“y-yeah, let me grab my blazer.” namjoon pushes himself off, going around the counter and heading towards the stairs where his bedroom is until -

“it’s here.” hoseok points out.

“what?”

“your blazer. it’s this one, right?” the secretary loyally scoops up the thick maroon blazer off the couch and hands it to his boss who’s just barely recovered from what seems to be a trance. 

he’d went down and tossed the blazer on the couch before making his coffee - before the kiss.

namjoon clears his throat, refusing to look at the man’s scrutinizing eyes as he thanks him and slips the blazer on. but he loses those eyes when he peeks over the man’s shoulder, mini-waving at you, “hey, morning, doc.”

you return the greeting, refraining a blush as you feel the ghost of namjoon’s lips when you fix his secretary a smile, “hey, hoseok. care to join us for breakfast?”

the man shrugs, eyes flitting over his boss who now seems ready to go, “thanks doc but i had some cereal and cold milk.”

he bids his farewell and escapes out of where he came from, letting the two of do what newly weds do before the other goes to work. it’s in that moment that he realizes with a chill running down his spine as he sat in the driver seat - that namjoon isn’t a bachelor anymore and he couldn’t come and go as he pleases and that he might have interrupted something. come to think of it, both you and namjoon’s cheeks were flushed...

“h-hey boss,” hoseok steals a glance of the man at the backseat through the rear view mirror. he almost chokes on his next words when the man’s eyes meet him but he persists like a man on a mission to not get fired , “y-you know, i’ve been with kimcorp. f-for a long time. i-it’s like my family a-and i’ll work harder from now on.”

confusion flashes across namjoon’s features for the briefest moment. he doesn’t know what makes hoseok say something so out of his character and shakily at that but it’s not the first time that his employee’s said something like this to him - of course, minus the stutter and all.

“that’s good to know, hoseok.” he says simply.

x

it’s been a week since you told namjoon you didn’t - wouldn’t see anyone. yoongi or not. when you told him you were going to meet yoongi at a cafe near his studio to give the man an answer - a hard no, there’s still some needling doubt in namjoon’s gaze as he reverts his eyes away from you. as though he was afraid that the illusion would fade away and he’d end up catching the smolder of passion he’d always seen you look at the man with.

he’s not lost to your feelings - in hindsight, it was pathetically obvious how smitten you were for the elder man. even your and his parents could see. and they’d foreseen many things but not having to plead and then beg and then finally, force you into a marriage you didn’t want with the brother of the man you loved.

your only regret was leaving without kissing namjoon goodbye - but it also felt like anything you said, any sort of assurance you offered would just be an act. until you tell his brother to stop.

“come to think of it,” you set the warm cup of latte down. it would have tasted better if the circumstances were different, “we never properly ended things. the only way i knew the engagement was over was through mom and dad.” his parents you meant.

he tilts his head to the side as a response - an indication that he’s listening. he’s dressed in plain white shirt and the darkest jeans. the bags under his eyes is an indication that he hasn’t slept in days - either it’s because of working late nights trying to make music or because of what he’d said to you.

you know he’d do this - detach himself from reality when things gets tough or when he’s stuck in a situation he doesn’t have control over. but you still had hope. still held onto the past seven years you’d spent together for him to regard you with enough respect to offer closure.

“do you love naeun that much?” and yet you still ask.

you meet his hollow gaze, not knowing the intensity yours hold until your fingerpads wrapped around aches and he lets out a heavy breath.

“she was different.” he says simply - almost tiredly, “she caught my eyes. we started talking and we found out we had some things in common. i thought she’s what i needed to get over you.”

“don’t.” the churning starts from your stomach and spreads across your body like a poisonous fog. “don’t use me as an excuse for leaving. you loved me as much as i loved you and you got scared.”

a lump forms in your throat as the memories, the inside jokes that built up over time, the comfortable silents spent - everything comes crashing in like tidal wave. you knew he loved you deep down. that was why the news of him getting married took a toll on you - so much so, you decided to leave everything behind and fly to paris.

“you could’ve pushed me away if you truly had no feelings for me but you kept me around and let me think we were going to have a happy future together.” his image is distorted from the prickles of tears in your eyes but you blink them away, “but you didn’t really know you were in love with me back then, huh? that’s why you got scared shitless and decided to leave.” you’re not sure if you’re choking on your words or if you’re actually scoffing. maybe both.

in that moment, you watch as yoongi’s expression switches from that signature boredom to realization and finally unbridled sorrow. he must feel suffocated - like he’s drowning in emotions the way you did in that suite you spent for two weeks in paris before you decided to buy an apartment and stay for good. and you would have if your parents didn’t call you back - recounted all their sacrifices for you to make you guilty enough to agree to the marriage with his younger brother. he’ll spend the same amount of time sleeping and waking up in his room and realizing he can’t turn back time.

“i fucked up big time, didn’t i?” he laughs dryly as he presses his palm to his face, hunched over the minute round table.

the latte is still half-full when you swipe your phone off the table and stand up. he doesn’t spare you a glance - he probably couldn’t bring himself to face you now.

‘you’re a fucking coward min yoongi.’ is what you want to say but for some reason, you leave the words to die on the tip of your tongue. you won’t - can’t wish him a happy life and propose to put everything past you. it’s not that simple and you’re not that forgiving. but namjoon’s easy smile flashes at the back of your head at this moment of all time and makes your heart clench painfully in your chest. their relationship is already strained and if you insist on prolonging this, it’s only going to end up hurting namjoon one way or another and the cycle will just keep going on with naeun getting hurt if she found out.

“you did.” your hand is trembling around the strap of your bag, “but it’s all in the past and i don’t blame you. things wouldn’t turn out the way they do otherwise. so just... live for the present, yoongi.”

his shoulders rise and fall a little faster than normal but there’s nothing you can do - and it’s better if you leave him to collect his thoughts. the censor at the door beeps as you pass through. it takes a moment for you to feel the morning air brush your cheeks and sunlight to seep into you. your chest still feels tight but in due time, you know it’ll lighten.

x

“hey, boss. you have a special guest.” hoseok peeks into namjoon’s office like the slyboots he is. the wiggle of the man’s brows before he disappears gives namjoon all the more reason to prepare for the worse.

“send them in.” he sighs, not bothering to hide his feelings in front of hoseok. they’ve been working side by side for a long time and friends for longer he knows his friend is aware of the contrasting definition of ‘special’ but this once, as he sees you walk through the door - he admits that him and hoseok may finally be of the same mind.

namjoon shoots up from his seat, clearing his throat and buttoning his blazer together the way he’s so used to doing it when he receives an unannounced visit from his father. “what brings you here?”

instead of shooting him one of your brilliant smiles, you drop your bag on the crisp white leather couch and run right into him. arms wrapped around his torso, he can smell your favorite floral shampoo from your hair but he can’t bring himself to hug you back. his heart is palpitating inside his chest and he can only pray for some miracle that you can’t hear it. which is most unlikely what with your head coming up just a few centimeters above his shoulder line and your ears being the same height as the beating organ in his chest.

if you notice, you're not saying anything about it.

“i met yoongi just now.”

namjoon doesn’t say a word for the longest time - it’s so namjoon of him not to. but it’s also not where you stand now. that day, when you partially admitted to liking namjoon and you’re pretty sure he felt the same - you’d seen a side of namjoon you never thought you’d saw. vulnerable. fearful. all because he thought he was going to lose you - and it felt like he’s always been prepared for it. it was just a matter of time.

the muscles in your arms contracts at the thought of namjoon being so ready to let you go - is it like that too, right now? is he expecting you to go back on your words and tell him you’re going to have an affair with his brother? you don’t know and that’s driving you insane. 

and just when the muscles in your arm contract, just when you’re about to pull away, namjoon’s arms band around your body and a kiss lands on top of your head.

“did you tell him what you wanted to tell him all this time?” his voice is velvet and smooth and you can hear that easy smile as he speaks.

you nod against his chest. “it’s over. i told him to get lost.”

the chest vibrates against your cheek as rings of chuckles tumble out of namjoon’s mouth. it makes your body light up with a sort of fire. and for once, you welcome the heat spreading across your cheeks like an old friend.

he knows the last part is a bluff - it’s comforting that he knows without having you say it.

does he also know...

“after that i came here because i wanted to see you.” you crane your neck to look up at him.

true enough there’s that smile and gets wider when he meets your gaze. a hand comes to rest on your neck while his thumb grazes your chin as he presses his lips to yours. you think your heart might explode at any moment now as you kiss him back, your hand snaking to his shoulder but he stops your right hand, holding it on his chest. his heart beats the same rhythm as yours. his shoulder line heaving the same way yours do when the back of your thighs hit the couch and you finally break apart. but before you have the chance to gather your thoughts, his lips are on you again. the hand on your lower back pulling you closer until your thighs press on either side of his legs.

“let’s go home now.” he murmurs between breaths, “i might really go crazy if i touch another part of your body that’s covered in clothing.”

it’s in that moment that the door swings open.

x

hoseok bursts through the door with the photostatted files in his hand. there’s a skip in his step.

“hey boss! here’s the files you asked for.”

he looks between you - well your back - and namjoon. the ceo is fixing his tie with a hard expression while you’re standing facing the ceiling-to-floor window that overlooks the streets and several stores in the area.

d-did he just walk into you two fighting?

“thanks, hoseok.” namjoon swipes the files from his hand, walking back to his seat around the desk and dropping the files with a sharp pap!

“n-no problem boss.” he takes one frightened step backwards before turning around but before he manages to escape the lion’s den, you stop him.

“hoseok wait.” it comes out a bit rushed. granted, you’re not in any position to waste time. you dropped by even though you know you can’t afford being late to work but somehow you ended up at namjoon’s office anyway. the secretary seems to physically turn into a rock before shakily turn his cheek to you with a smile.

“uh, yeah doc?”

“namjoon, do you mind me borrowing hoseok for a bit?” the heat comes on full force as you turn to namjoon. he’s burning a hole through the files he’s flipping through but you don’t miss the pinked tips of his ears and the way his adam’s apple bobs at the sound of his name on your tongue, “my shift is starting at noon so i need to be there by,” you check the watch on your wrist, “now.”

the way namjoon doesn’t even look up from flipping the papers is how hoseok know for sure you’re fighting. “sure thing. oh and hoseok, no detours. come straight back once you drop ___ off.”

but to you, it’s because he’s flustered beyond imagination - you know, like you know how he’ll condemn himself for not being able to control himself like that. your whole body heats up as you slip into the back seat when the image of namjoon’s hooded eyes, reddened cheeks and half agape lips flash at the back of his mind. a part of you - the reasonable one - chides yourself for even thinking about ditching work and actually going home with him but another part wishes to indulge in the endless possibilities of what will happen if you did.

x

“____,” your name tumbles out of namjoon’s mouth in a breathy huff. naturally so. he hasn’t even caught his breath from when he finds you crawling over him like a woman in on a mission. now, the same exact woman his cuffing his wrists and holding them over his head with one hand while the other is undoing the buttons of his shirt while she kisses him in all the right places.

“wh-where did you even get cuffs?” his headboard is one of those pristine white cushioned ones meaning there isn’t any rails for you to hook him on and keep him in place. but you don’t need that because namjoon can barely move - all that time he spends at the gym has gone down the drain as invisible threads tie him down.

“oh these?” you let one corner of your lips tug deviously. it’s been six months since you got married and you and namjoon has never gone past the occasional cuddles and light kisses. the morning after that day when you dropped by his office after meeting yoongi, namjoon had declared his intentions to ‘do it right’ - like dates and getting to know each other better before anything else. 

it was sweet of him. until you realized you barely had time for dates - only late night conversations that ended up with you on top of him but before things could progress, he’d do everything he could to avoid bedroom affairs. but over time, it gets a bit discouraging. so this is the last straw - there’s no wine or champagne for him to use as an excuse to carry you to your room. you’re both sober, and if he doesn’t want you -

“never mind where i got these.” the low sound emitting from his throat makes your heart skip a beat as your lips brush against the shell of his ear, “don’t you want me, namjoon?”

trailing hisses down his smooth jawline, you let your lips hover over his - it only lasts for a heartbeat before he closes the distance and starts kisses you like a famine beast.

“i want you,” he confesses when you pull away just to reinforce your control. he may be the one lying down with his hands bound but it almost felt like you’re the hopeless one here - almost. the  a feral glint in his eyes sends hot waves down your core - you have to tell yourself to breathe. “of course i fucking want you ___.”

you hum in contemplation - taking just enough time to sit straighter and let your fingers undo the rest of the buttons and stopping just above his belt. the few times you laid together and he lets you lie on top of him - you knew he was brains and brawn. but you didn’t expect a perfectly sculpted body of adonis himself to be lying beneath you. the ridges of his abs heaves helplessly as he drawn in deep breaths. 

somewhere on the edge of the bed where you’d tossed it, your phone vibrates - someone’s calling but that can wait.

you lean down, soft tresses brushing his skin as you kiss that spot that illicit a delicious sound from him the first time you discovered it. somewhere in the junction between his shoulder and neck.

“fuck.” his voice is raw and desperate and carnal as his body yearns for you. his legs bent at the knees, feet ground into the bed as he grinds his hip into you - the signs of his arousal painfully obvious.

you can’t help but giggle at the way he so vehemently yearn for you. somewhere on the bed, your phone starts vibrating again.

“y-your phone.” he manages to stammer out. it’s the third time it’s vibrating.

“don’t worry about it. the only people who would call me at this time is jisoo’s drunken butt dial or the hospital-” you sit back up, heat still pooling in your stomach when your hips grind against namjoon’s arousal in the process but the urgency in the way you swipe your phone off the sheets has stolen your attention.

clear as day, it is one of the two possibilities you’ve mentioned and it isn’t your quirky colleague.

x

when you first started working, you were of the ripe age and eager to help those in need. you loved your job despite the long arduous hours, missed meals and ungodly hour roll calls because at the end of the day, it was what you wanted to do - it was the one thing you wouldn’t let your parents take away from you. you fought blood sweat and tears to get where you are now.

and doctors don’t usually start a family until they’ve at least finished their residency - but you had to get married early to keep your end of the bargain. of course, you didn’t expect to commit to said marriage. you didn’t also expect to fall for namjoon either. and you certainly didn’t expect for him to still be here in the waiting area when you walked out of the emergency operating room, head lulling to the side as sleep begins to take him, arms crossed over his chest. he didn’t even get the chance to change when you hurriedly uncoffed him, informing him about an emergency at the er. he’d offered to drive you since you couldn’t drive and waiting for an uber driver to accept your request this late at night would take more time. you’d rushed out of the car with a ‘thanks, namjoon. i owe you one!’ thinking he’d go home and get some rest - there’s no telling how long these surgeries take after all.

when he leans too far to the side, his eyes flutter open softly before noticing the turquoise-clad body in his periphery.

“___, you’re done? did the surgery go alright?” he’s always had a way of saying your name. it makes your heart warm and your chest full as he stands up to close the distance between you - to cup one side of your cheek with his hand. though your delayed response may have been the reason for that.

“the surgery was a success.” you finally say, your smaller hand covering his, lips curving softly. guilt creeps up the creeks of your chest but gratitude washes it away. it wouldn’t have been very namjoon of him if he didn’t consider everything: how you’d go home once you’re done. if there’s even any uber working this late of an hour. your heart is swelling - you don’t think you can ever love him more than you do now but namjoon being namjoon, he’ll make you fall in love with him more and more until your heart is filled to the brim, “thank you, namjoon.”

and he gets it. just like that. the words that you’re saying without putting them into words because there are many ways to say it and a plethora of intrepreting it but namjoon gets it because his heart beats the same rhythm as you: i love you.

a dimpled smile curls over his lips as he places a kiss over your forehead, “should we go home?” he leans down to whisper into your ears, his tone changing dangerously, “and pick up where we left off, yeah doc?”

[flymyhp]

Birds to Spell books Pairing: George Weasley x Hufflepuff!reader Summary: George spends all his time showing his affection in the wrong way, only to ask her to the Yule Ball 6 years later Words: 2,163 Warnings: Mostly angst, fluff at the end tho ;) and the timeline is a little bit wonky at some parts A/N: Hi! This is my first time writing pretty much anything. Give me feedback! Much love, stay safe x Sixth year was exceptionally ordinary for y/n. Nearing the end of November, the Hufflepuff was sat near the fire in the Gryffindor common room with her younger sister, Hermione and the youngest of the trio, Harry. The topic of discussion among everyone at Hogwarts had been the Triwizard tournament, along with the Yule Ball. Although, the trio had seemed to push the ball completely out of their minds, only focusing on Harry’s name being drawn from the goblet of fire. Panic had struck her underclassmen friends due to these events, while recently y/n had been struck with panic for a different reason. “Pipe down, Lee.” Y/n knew the voice coming from behind her, but she didn’t take notice of it until she felt a pair of eyes boring into the back of her head. Her eyebrows furrowed as she attempted to focus on the conversation carrying on between her own group. Nobody seemed to notice the discomfort on her face, being too enveloped with their own issues. This didn’t bother her, the only thing that did was the voice she couldn’t take her attention from. “You haven’t researched the dragons at all, have you, Harry?” Hermione lectured Harry. There was an all too familiar tone in her voice. One that y/n shared with her, and one that she flinched at. “You have no idea how dangerous this is, do you?” “I’m sure he’s figured that bit out himself,” She jumped at the voice, and turned around, only opening her eyes once she was fully facing its owner. “haven’t you, Harry?” George Weasley. Kneeling behind the couch, right next to y/n, grinning. George Weasley. The boy who’d once transfigured her spell books into birds during their third year. The boy who, on multiple occasions over the course of 6 years, used the amplifying charm to make her robes shout during exams. And last week, the boy who’d asked her to the Yule Ball. She was completely sure it was a joke. What she wasn’t sure of was what made him target her the most out of everybody he and his twin played pranks on. It seemed to usually be gullible, younger kids who they went for. Y/n was an exception for six years, especially with George. It also had seemed like a harmless joke that everyone could laugh at. The joke felt nonexistent when it was her turn, as she was the only one not laughing. “I’m only joking, of course, Harry. There’s nothing to fret about.” George let his teasing die down a bit as she decided to zone back in. Just then, y/n felt a tap on her shoulder. Her face turned to meet George’s own. “Mind steppin’ out for a bit?” Y/n’s face went red. She’d hoped her sister didn’t hear him, or she’d be getting a lecture as well. Although she doubted she would, considering Harry’s was likely to continue until he stepped into the arena with a dragon. She reluctantly stood to her feet, her legs shaking slightly as she did so. “Why not? It’s nearing twelve, I’d better head out, anyways. G’night, Mione.” Y/n excused herself. Hermione stopped talking long enough to tell her goodnight and to be careful heading back to the basement with a kind smile which y/n gladly returned. Y/n followed George out of the common room and into the halls. The moon shone bright through the windows and she shivered in the cold of the fall night. “Am I correct in assuming you’re walking me to bed?” She asked, teeth chattering. He chuckled. “Of course I am,” Then he sighed, insinuating that wasn’t all he was here for. “Bird,” George started. The nickname made y/n want to hide in her hoodie the rest of the way back, and possibly the rest of term. “You never gave me an answer about the Yule ball.” He wasn’t asking anything, just stating the fact that weighed on y/n’s shoulders since the minute the question left his mouth a week prior. The question she didn’t exactly have an answer to. This wasn’t a cliché, y/n didn’t like George. She didn’t like the embarrassment he’d put her through for six years. She didn’t want to say yes. She didn’t want to say yes out of fear that it would all be a joke when it came down to the dance. She didn’t want to get her hopes up. On the other hand, she didn’t want to say no and end up going alone, or not at all. “I don’t have one.” This simple sentence left George kicking his feet a little as he walked. He lowered his head, and lifted it up again, his hair flicking out of his eyes as if he’d lost all confidence and then gained it back again. “Not even no?” He was looking at her now. She kept her head straight. “I could take rejection without an explanation, but can you tell me why you just don’t have an answer? Just curious is all.” Y/n swallowed. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to explain it to him. Was she being ridiculous? Overdramatic? Overthinking? She didn’t know what to think anymore. They’d already gotten to the entrance to her common room before she could think of what to say to him, so she just let everything out at once. “I can’t give you an answer. My heart sank when you asked me because I know it’s just a big joke. You’ve embarrassed me enough the past 6 years.” She began. She couldn’t control what she was saying, she just spoke. “Y/n,” He started, but was immediately interrupted as she couldn’t stop speaking. “But I can’t say no either, because if I don’t show up, or if I show up alone what am I to say? It’ll be equally embarrassing. I can’t win with you around, George.” When she finished she was out of breath. What she said didn’t hit her until she saw the look on his face. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.” George looked absolutely crushed. She didn’t know until then that he was being completely serious when he’d asked her to go to the Yule Ball with him. She’d ran from him and ignored him for a week, just to break his heart the moment he questioned her again. But how was she to know he genuinely wanted to go with her? She opened her mouth to speak, and George was going to let her but she closed her mouth as soon as he looked up at her. His eyes were watery, and she didn’t know what to do to fix it. Her silence gave George his answer, it was a big no. The twenty-fourth of November was the next chance she saw to speak to George, the first task of the tournament. He hadn’t been as bubbly as he usually is since the night before when she poured her heart out to him. She couldn’t stand to look at him and see hurt in his eyes. All she could think to do was find him in the crowd and force herself to fix things, even if it meant she had to look at his face and see the pain she caused. She walked to the arena with Hermione and Ron. Ron still wasn’t happy about the situation with Harry. He’d caused a few scenes in the common room and the courtyard. Both Hermione and y/n had tried to convince him that Harry hadn’t put his name in, but he couldn’t be convinced. Ron was easy to find his brothers, they had been having students place bets on who they believed would win the task and were walking through the pathway to the arena counting their profit. “Ron, would you mind bringing Fred along with you to find us seats? I have to fix something.” Y/n knew Ron wouldn’t mind, even in his sour mood. “As long as you manage to stop them taking the piss out of me, no problem.” He had a foul look on his face as he glanced at his brothers. She knew that his brothers had been giving him a hard time about Harry, but her first priority was to fix what she messed up. Ron, Hermione and Fred started off toward the arena. George didn’t look at y/n as he began to follow them, so she grabbed the sleeve of his jumper gently telling him to wait. He turned with his head down, he didn’t want to look at her. He was afraid if he did he would cry. “I’m not very good at this, obviously. But I need you to hear me out.” She began. He finally looked at her. She took a breath and started again. “You’ve never shown any sort of fondness towards me, no kindness, no apologies, for six years I’ve been the brunt of all of your jokes. You never gave me any explanation for that. How can you go from tormenting me for years to asking me to the first dance Hogwarts has had since we’ve been here? I couldn’t be a last option, there’s tons of girls who’d gladly go with you if you asked. Why me?” He stared at her for a moment, his eyes searched hers for some type of strength to get him to respond, and he found it. “As I said the other night in the basement, I didn’t realize you’d felt the way you did until you told me. I’ve been beating myself up since you told me how you felt. I’m not upset with you, I’m upset with myself.” This time, y/n began to tear up. “Freddie knows I’ve liked you for ages and he tells me to go for it, but I never could. I singled you out because I thought by doing something funny I could see you smile in the process instead of having to outright tell you how I felt about you. Then we came back to school to find out that they’re holding a dance, and I knew that was my opportunity. That’s why I asked you to the Yule Ball, I went for it as Freddie always told me to. He’s a lot better at going for it than I am, obviously, as he asked Angela the first day.” George finished with a chuckle, his eyes still sad. She blinked, her mouth opened and closed, and opened again. She was speechless. It was hard for her to admit to herself now that even though she didn’t have any romantic feelings for him, it would be easy for them to develop. “I can’t say I feel the same about you, considering I’ve spent my entire time at Hogwarts either crying or avoiding you. My friends are my little sisters’ friends because I’m laughed at due to your pranks.” She told him the truth. Even Ron, their little brother, was nicer to her than he had been. “I understand the way you’ve treated me, and I forgive you even if you aren’t willing to apologize because of what I said the other night.” He gave her a small smile. “Bird, of course I’m apologizing. I never meant to make you cry, or avoid your own classmates, or me. All I’m hoping for now is that I get a proper answer now that we understand each other.” “I have an answer for you. But it’s not exactly a proper one.” He looked at her with curiosity. “I’ll go to the ball with you, even though for now I don’t have any sort of feelings for you.” His head fell slightly at her statement and nodded, still not fully content with her answer. “Don’t look so down, George. If you’re lucky, you can change that. I did say I didn’t have feelings for you for now, didn’t I?” It was her turn to give him a grin. This time, he smiled. The first genuine smile he’d ever gave her. It wasn’t caused by his pranks, it was hopeful and warm. “I do have a tendency to be quite lucky.” The smile still bright on his face, he took one of her hands in his. “I’m sorry, genuinely. I’m sorry for your robes, I’m sorry for transfiguring your spell books into birds in third year, and I’m sorry for making you believe I wasn’t serious with my asking you to the ball. By Christmas, the ball, you’ll be happy to be attending with me. No one will laugh at you anymore, and you won’t have to only have my git brother for a friend. I promise.” She laughed, the first time he’d ever heard her laugh, and it was him who caused it. “Once again, I forgive you.” She took his other hand in hers and looked from their hands to his eyes. “Besides, I prefer birds to spell books anyways.”

[mrsgiovanna]

Bruno Bucciarati x Fem! Reader

A bit of a drawn out scenario with Bucciarati and the reader in an AU where everyone lives 💭❤️💙

No warnings, just fluff 😅💭

Word Count: 2117

“So Bucciarati, what do you think? I believe she’s the best person for a job like this. She has the ability to judge when to use force and her stand ability is well honed… you have reservations… what’s wrong?”

Bruno wasn’t known to wear his disdain so evidently on his face, but when it came to you, managing his emotions was slightly more difficult than usual. It also didn’t help that Giorno knew him so well. He was Giorno’s closest ally, his most trusted confidant, so he was able to be frank with him and voice concerns that would have otherwise gone unspoken.

“Well, she is strong, but I know she can be reckless when it comes to her own safety, much like someone else, might I add- but that’s a discussion for another day… perhaps, someone should accompany her just as back up in case the situation deteriorates,” suggested Bruno as he walked over to the balcony overlooking the sea. He always felt a sense of calm when looking at the ocean.

“You could always go with her…”

“Is that an order, Giorno?”

“Of course not. Look, I could send a small convoy of bodyguards with her and you’d still worry, Narancia could be tracking every living creature within meters of her and you’d still be uneasy, so rather just go yourself,” explained Giorno, watching him for even a hint of a reaction, which he did detect, but the young Don decided not to comment on that. “That’s settled then, I’ve already texted her asking for her to come over, she should be here soon,”

With Giorno’s words hanging in the air, Bruno turned his gaze back to the ocean, trying to calm the stormy feeling in his chest. Bruno always looked out for you, just as he looked out for everyone in his team. You shared a lot of history with the handsome raven-haired man, both having to join Passione as a necessity at a young age. You joined his team after working with a few other groups under Polpo’s control, finding a place that you truly felt you belonged. You both complemented each other well, compensating for what the other lacked. His maturity manifested in his quick thinking and his naturally kind nature and yours in your ability to put anyone at ease and talk to people at their own level. None of those traits could be mistaken for weakness however, as you were both capable of doing the unthinkable when your group or ideals were threatened.

You hurried along the spotless marble flooring that lead up to Giorno’s study, delicately knocking on the door before entering after hearing a soft invitation to do so.

“Buongiorno, Giogio, Bruno… ” you greet with a sunny smile. Bruno turned around to greet you with a smile while Giorno spoke.

“Buongiorno (y/n), thanks for coming over so quickly, this early in the morning, there’s just something very important that we need to discuss and we could really use your help later on,”

“Of course, sounds serious, I’ll assist in any way possible, you know that, Gio,” you reply, a hint of concern in your voice. The rest of the morning was spent discussing how to go about the mission without attracting any unnecessary attention. Once the strategy was ironed out, you and Bruno left Giorno’s villa and spent the rest of the day making sure you both had everything you would need, giving yourself a couple of hours to get ready before Bruno would come by to pick you up. You would have thought having 2 hours to get ready would be enough but you were mistaken. You just weren’t used to fancy evening gowns and stilettos, even less so to that much makeup, but you needed to channel your inner femme fatal and blend in with the rest of the guests at the flashy event.

Staring at your reflection with a critical eye, you had been tinkering with various accessories and rearranging your hair, this way and that before deciding that it was enough, the longer you took to do all of this, the more your nerves frayed. This would be the first time in years that you and Bruno would be on a mission by yourselves, and it’s definitely the first time ever that he’d be seeing you that dressed up. A wave of self consciousness washed over you, diluting the confidence that you’d been trying to build. Before you had time to further chip away at your confidence, your housekeeper came in to inform you that Bruno had arrived and was waiting for you downstairs.

On the drive over, Bruno thought about you and how much you had grown. When you had met each other, you were both just a pair of kids, who were forced to grow up too quickly. You’d taken everything in your stride though, and had seamlessly integrated into his team. Everyone loved your gentle yet protective nature. You were the one person he could be himself with, the one person who he could express his fears to, that he could fall apart on without any fear of judgment. He was the one who took care of everyone, but you were the only one he’d allow to take care of him.

He was let into your home and waited for you for a short time, barely having a chance to sit when he saw you gracefully descending the spiral staircase. You looked so beautiful, he was rendered speechless for a moment, quickly catching himself before you could notice how he was staring at you.

“(y/n)... you look beautiful, are you ready to leave?”

“Bruno, wow, you clean up well, and thank you… umm, I think I have everything I need, we can go. Thanks for coming with me, Gio told me it was your idea, I’m sure you have a million other things to do,”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he said through a strained smile, making a mental note to talk to Giorno about that. On the drive to the event, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Bruno… he looked so handsome, swopping out his white spotted suit for a black one, making the gold accents stand out even more. Everything about him was just perfect, from his perfectly cut, jet black hair, to his sparkling blue eyes and his well defined physique, it felt intimidating to have to be next to him for the night.

When you arrived at your destination, it was not difficult to zero in on your target. He was a spoiled, entitled looking brat. Both him and his father were not impressed with Giorno’s new rules for Passione, but stayed regardless, however, when his father died, his bad behavior was left unchecked. He always gave off the impression that he was waiting for an opportunity to betray Giorno. So you wanted to see what he would do when presented with an opportunity to do so.

Everything was going well, you and Bruno were satisfied that he wouldn’t betray the organization after he had passed every test you had set for him. Feeling relieved, Bruno excused himself for a moment to get you both a drink. Unfortunately for you though, you had caught the attention of the very man you were investigating. As he slowly walked toward you with a weird glint in his eyes, you became very aware of how much you needed Bruno there.

“You know, I’ve been waiting all night for that boyfriend of yours to leave so I could talk to you… the name's Elio… ” he says, twirling a lock of your hair in his fingers.

“Approaching a woman you believe is involved? And you should know who Bucciarati is… should you really be referring to him so casually? You’re not making a good case for yourself here, Elio. Now if you’d excuse me,” you made a move to put some distance between yourself and Elio, but in his persistence, he softly grasps your forearm and steps in front of you preventing you from going.

“Awww, don’t be in such a rush to leave signorina, we’re just talking… I was hoping to get to know you a little better, we run in the same circles but haven’t been formally introduced, it’s a crime, really”

You were getting annoyed, both with his persistence and the fact that Bruno was taking forever to come back. You decided to ignore him in the hopes that he’d go away without you having to use your stand or cause a scene.

“Is there a problem here? I’m sorry for taking this long tesoro, I was held up by an associate… in any case, come on, bella, we have to get going now,” You were thankful for Bruno’s intervention, but you were unnerved by how angry his eyes looked and the strong grip he held your hand with. You were confused. Was he angry at you? If not you, then who or what put him in this mood? Those questions swirled around in your mind as Bruno drove you home.

As much as your mind was clouded with unanswered questions, so was Bruno’s mind overtaken by anger. He hated the fact that some creep touched you, and he was even more upset that he couldn’t say or do anything about it… yet. He looked over at you, but your head was turned towards the window so he couldn’t see your face. Were you upset by how he dragged you off? You looked uncomfortable though, what if he read the situation incorrectly…

“Bruno, are you angry at me?”

“What? Of course not,”

“Really? You should let your face know,”

“Well, I guess this is just my face,” explained Bruno. You just nodded in acknowledgment, not really believing it, you knew his resting face well enough, and it wasn’t this. Feeling defeated, you continued to look out of the window until he drove up to your door. You remained quiet, rather choosing to look at your hands to avoid that sharp gaze. A few painfully awkward moments passed like that, before you summoned up your courage to speak. Evidently, Bruno had the same idea as you both turned towards each other and spoke at the same time.

“It’s clear that we both have things we want to say, so let’s talk inside rather?” you suggest, to which Bruno agrees with a small nod.

“I’m the one who interrupted you, so please, go first Bruno,” you say in an encouraging tone, while you both sat down, facing each other.

“Alright, thank you… here goes… I’m not angry at you, not even a little bit… I just lost it when I saw that cretin touching you so casually. You’re the most precious person in the world to me…I… ”

You stayed silent, encouraging Bruno to continue, trying to fight off the fluttery feelings coursing through you from what he just said.

“(y/n)… I love you, I’ve loved you for years now. I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you… I guess that’s now… look, you don’t have to say anything, I’m sure it’s a lot for you to take in, and all I really want is for you to be happy,” the tenderness in his eyes and voice as he spoke was almost too much to bear, as you gently took his hands in yours.

“I… I love you too… for the longest time. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you, to help you realize your dreams in whatever small way I can. So you must know how happy I am to hear you say those words,”

Being deeply moved, Bruno leaned forward and hooked his finger under your chin to bring your gaze up to meet his own and captured your lips in a sweet but passionate kiss. You smiled into the kiss, tangling your fingers into the blunt ends of his hair, resting your forehead against his when you both had broken away from the kiss.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this for,” he says in between a barrage of smaller kisses, suddenly breaking away to look at you.

“Tesoro, are you sure about this? You know first hand how this life can get, there’s always dangers to avoid, storms to weather…”

“Bruno, I don’t think anyone has endured more than us, and I’m certain that whatever else life throws at us, we can tackle together. I would choose to weather your storms with you, than bask in someone else’s sunshine any day.”

That was all the invitation Bruno needed to pull you into another passionate kiss, giving himself permission to indulge his own desires for once.

[raeisgrayte]

Must Be Fa(e)te~ Chapter One

There was a fable my mother used to tell me all the time when I was a little girl. It was about a regal queen, a noble monarch who lead her people with pride, though I always thought the princess was my favorite character. She was a warrior who fought in the great war against the human realm. She was someone who stood up for what she thought was right, like fighting against the humans polluting the beautiful springs that the merfolk of Wellspring lived in. The best part about the princess though, was her rainbow wings. My mother told of how the princess only used them when absolutely necessary. She was more of a walking girl, she liked taking walks through the forest's abundant beauty. She was magical, too magical. That's how I knew my mom was making this up as she went.

I only wish it were true, then maybe I could actually blame a real life person for making me the homosexual I am today. Instead when people ask about my "awakening" I have to tell them I fell in love with a made-up fairy princess when I was 3. Usually they giggle and agree that they knew it at a young age too, but some want to know more about the story. I always tell them, it's a good story after all. It leaves my lips turned up in a smile afterwards, thinking about magic and gay shit.

God how I yearn for some excitement around this town. We all just walk around with somewhere to go. I never saw someone stop by to smell the roses unless they were with a loved one. I let out a large sigh, putting my left hand on the wooden counter in my grandfather's pop up flower shop, Love You Florever. It was a play on the word floral, but I think everyone I tell about the flower shop understands, I just want to make sure. There are the people who give me a strange look and then those who seem genuinely happy that my grandfather was such a punster. I miss him.

I hear the ding of the bell before I can go into one of those really sad moments where I start thinking about all the lovely memories I had with my grandad. I will not be having a sad montage in my head today! Not after what happened last time. I'm still stuck in my thoughts, trying to be funny, when I hear someone clear their throat. I cringe at how awkward I must look right now laughing at my own jokes, inside my head. "Ahaha, heyyyyyy, welcome to Love You Florever! Would you like to-" My brain short circuits when I finally meet the gaze of the goddess who has stepped foot into the shop. Oh lawdy I'm about to faint. She has beautiful almond brown eyes with a mole under her left eye. I'm drawn to the envious length of her lashes and how they brush gently against her cheeks as she blinks. She has short ebony hair that shimmers in the setting sunlight. Her lips curve up in a smile and she tilts her head curiously.

"Would I like to what?" She teases, a small laugh leaving her mouth. That's it, I give up. If there is a God I'm coming to visit you real soon. This girl was beautiful and her voice is so smooth I thought my brain was oozing out of my ears. I feel my face start to flush from embarrassment.

"Oh-um, sorry. I have trouble thinking sometimes." I laugh and scratch the back of my neck nervously.

"Like a medical thing?" She questions, her eyes flashing with concern like she had offended me. My eyes go wide and I shoot out my hand shaking it in a 'no' manor.

"No no no no, oh god no! You're fine, I  mean like my brain just-" I hit my head softly to insinuate that I'm just a dumb gay bitch, "you know, doesn't work? Especially around pretty women- I mean," I drag my hand down my face. "Fuck." I whisper through gritted teeth. This makes her laugh loudly, so much that she wipes her eyes. She lays a hand down on the counter and grins at me.

"Thank you and I totally get the whole brain malfunction thing." She smirks as her eyes search my face. I feel like she's trying to indirectly tell me something. After an awkward amount of silence she bends her other hand at the wrist in the viral tik-tok "hey I'm gay" gesture. If this were a movie I'd look into the camera as everything pauses and I'd say oh my god, a gay.

I shake my head in understanding now. "Ah." I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a small chuckle. "I'm so sorry, um, would you like to buy anything?" I ask with a smile. I was running the store after all. I had to try to make some money. Her lips lift in a big smile and she suddenly looks nervous.

"Well, actually I came in here because you were the only flower I saw in here." First off, rude. She covers her face as a blush starts to form. Second of all, awww. I didn't really know what to say. I mean I could tell she was trying to hit on me, but her game was a little off. We'd just met and I don't know if she's a killer or something- oh who am I kidding?

"Oh really? That sounds about right to me." I smile as her face lights up.

"Oh gosh! I was so nervous but also confident that you weren't straight. I was so scared that I had misjudged you and there would be this whole thing-" Bo Burnham's Welcome to the Internet starts playing and I scramble to find my phone. I look at her apologetically as I finally find my phone buzzing in my back pocket. I see that it's my mom calling me, she knows I'm working the store today. I instantly answer it and turn away from the girl.

"Ello stinky, what are you doing calling me at work?" I ask in a posh British accent. I wait for my mom to reply, but all I hear is silence. Oh my goodness, did she butt dial me? "Mom? Are you there?" A whisper of anxiety drips into my stomach.

"Oralee, did you use my shampoo?" The sound of her voice calms the panic and I roll my eyes simultaneously. Funny how that works. Her shampoo?

"Are you talking about when I took a shower this morning? The strawberry stuff?" I question. I can almost hear my mother's annoyed groan.

"Yes the strawberry stuff, you know I'm going on a date tonight. My hair has to smell like strawberries! You know this." I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"I didn't know you were going on a date tonight. When did that happen? I thought you were done with men and no I didn't use your shampoo." I reply curtly. I hear some shuffling around in the background and then it clears.

"Listen you know I haven't been getting any-"

"Mom! Oh my god! Shut up shut up!" I yell into the phone. I shudder with disgust at the thought of my mom speaking like she was a teen again. I hear her laughing at my pain and I almost hang up. "I cannot believe you, what is wrong with you!?"

"Hey nothing is wrong with me okay? I'm just a bisexual mother who needs two or three people to comfort me in the ways of the b o d y." She whispers the last part and I feel my whole body want to shrivel up and die.

"I cannot believe you. You're a tyrant." I hiss.

"But you love me." She quips.

"Yeah, I do. Now I have to go mom, I have a customer." I smile as I turn around.

"Ooou! Tell me all about her when you get home! Love you!" She yells and before I can ask her how she knew it was a girl she hangs up. I finally look up but the girl that was there before is now gone. I close my eyes and groan. There's goes any hope at living a happy life with a beautiful wife and a dog. I flop down in my swivel chair and continue to watch all the people walk past my beautiful flowers. Everyone was too busy getting somewhere, but I knew one day they'd rush in through my doors wanting some romantic flowers. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. Yeah, that day will come.

+          +          +          +          +

"Lee do you like this one?" My mother holds up a small red dress with a low v-neck. Her eyebrows wiggle and I can tell she really likes this one.

"Well, let's see it on." I grin as she giddily runs into her ensuite bathroom and shuts the door. I lay back on her bed wishing I had asked that girl to wait for me to finish my phone call. Oh well, I guess it wasn't meant to be. Like most situations with girls, it never ended well for me. There was that time I had a major crush on the barista that worked in the Starbucks across the street from the shop. I convinced myself she had to be gay with how many rings and piercings she had. Turns out that was just how she liked to express herself and I learned quickly that assuming makes an ass out of you and me. You should never place feelings or sexualities on someone you don't know. You shouldn't even do that to someone you do know. Such as myself, I don't like to label myself as bisexual or lesbian, I'm more off the grid I guess. I like men okay, but then some days I will literally vomit at the thought of the male touch. It changes with the breeze to be honest. I just enjoy people's company and if something happens then I guess it does. Though, it never has. My mom has told me the day will come when I want to go serious with someone, but I'm pretty sure she was drunk when she told me that. Honestly I wish I was drunk when she told me that because then I wouldn't have to think that I'm such a failure at this romance shit.  

"So? What do we think?" Mom spins out of the bathroom and into the last bit of sunlight shining through her window. Wow, she looks absolutely gorgeous. I can't help but cover my mouth to hide the smile I have. The dress brushes at her knees and curves up her hips to support her larger than average chest.

"You look gross." I purse my lips and put on my best mean girl face on. She laughs and pushes my shoulder.

"Thanks Lee, I'll be heading out soon. Make sure you take care of Mirage, you know how she likes to let us know when we didn't feed her." I nod and watch as she goes to get ready for a night out. I didn't really care if she went out, I was used to being alone. In fact I appreciated some alone time here and there like everyone else. It was comforting to just be able to scream musical songs without the fear my mom would come join me.

"I'm going to head into my room!" I call into the bathroom. I hear her hum in acknowledgement so I turn on my heel and head towards her door. Mirage, our ragdoll cat purrs as she wraps her body around my legs, nearly tripping me. I grin and bend down to pet her. "Hey girl, you saying bye to mom too? She's going out to find some relief. She's been stressed lately for some reason, but we're going to behave and be nice to her. Right?" Mirage mews at me and I can tell there is nothing behind those eyes. She was just happy to be here. I chuckle and stroke her head. I decide to pick her up and take her with me into my room. I struggle to open my bedroom door with Mirage in my arms, but manage finally to swing open the door. I sigh as I smell the mango air freshener. I set Mirage down on my pink comforter that has a white swirling pattern. Mirage plops down with her muzzle burrowed under the blanket. I smile to myself, it's been a pretty nice Saturday.

I was about to sit down in my desk chair to chill and play some Minecraft, but I realize that I need to close my curtains or else I'm going to forget it all together and I know I'll curse myself in the morning if I don't do it now. I sigh and walk over to my two windows. The purple curtains flutter in the ac gracefully, almost like they're dancing. I grab hold of one of them ready to shut, but as I happen to look out of my window I start to notice someone in the middle of the road. A chill runs down my spin, it was creepy for someone to just be standing there. They could be waiting for someone I guess, but why in the middle of the road? There's a low feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I can't help the peak of curiosity I also feel. After all, my mother was about to go out, I want to make sure she'll be safe. It was a wonderful yet horrible thing that my curiosity would get the best of me every time. I'd so be the first one in a horror movie to just open a random door and get shanked. Anyway, that's not what we should be thinking about right now.

I pear out the glass to try and get a better look at this mystery person. I study their frame, noticing that their back is to me. I tilt my head to try and get a better look, but my eyes widen when I see what looks like them turning their head to look right at me. I audibly gasp as I stumble backwards and trip over the corner of my desk. I thud to the ground and curse under my breath. I rub my back where I hit it on my desk chair. What the fuck was that? I must be so tired I'm starting to see things. I sigh and then laugh at myself. Oralee Turner you cannot just manifest some person in the middle of the road looking right at you. Those are not good vibes. Plus you're not the main character girly, calm down. I mean sure you could be a main character if you put in a little effort but come on let's be real. You'd need to really work on the woe is me mentality. I brought out of my thoughts when I hear my mother's soothing voice behind me.

"Are you okay sweetie? I heard a noise." My mom appears in the doorway and I giggle at her frantic look. This makes her look even more worried. It's fine mom I didn't hit my head.

"Yeah I'm all good, I just need to go to bed I guess. I'm so tired I guess I forgot objects can trip me." I nod my head towards my desk. She clicks her tongue in empathy.

"Did you hurt yourself?" She leans into the room looking for any sign of injury. I shake my head slowly.

"I just bumped my back into the legs of my chair." I grimace as my back throbs.

"Oh hon, I can stay home and put some ice on that? I'll cancel my plans and we can watch a movie together." Her eyes frantically search my face for an answer.

"Mom I'm 18 years old, I think I can ice my own back, but thank you." I smile to try and calm her nerves. I want her to go out and have some fun. She deserved it. She sighs loudly and just when I think she's going to let it go there's a knock on our door. Mirage perks up and mom and I make eye contact. "Door to door service?" I smirk mischievously. I can tell she wants to say something more about our previous conversation, but another knock at the door calls her attention elsewhere.

"We'll talk more when I get home Lee." She turns to walk away but as if she has one last thing to say, she turns back. "Also, she seems like the kind of gal to walk me to her car and such. That's something you should want in someone. A lot of people don't do that now a days you just need to-"

"Mom, oh my gosh just go." I shake my head and try to shoo her away with a hand motion. She rolls her eyes but does as I suggest. I hear a distant voice and debate on meeting this mystery woman, but decide against it. I don't want to ruin the whole thing my mom probably has going. I also don't want this woman to think my mom is a- oh god- a milf. Before I can fold in on myself I hear a notification sound from my phone, which lays forgotten on my bed. "Hey Mirage would you mind growing a human hand to hand me my phone?" Mirage looks me in my eyes and as if directly telling me to fuck off, she hops off my bed and pads over to my closet. "Bitch." I grumble.

I heave myself off the ground with a grunt, only to flop myself down onto my bed. I somehow manage to grab my phone from under my leg. I wonder who would've texted me. I curiously unlock the phone and see a message from my best friend Tabitha.

Tabby: Hey! Let me know if you can make it to the party nerd!

I close my eyes and groan into my pillow. Social interactions in this day and age? No thank you. I'd rather go outside and touch some grass.

Buttface: I'm not sure if Phelo will let me :(

Tabby: You could just go anyway >:( Come on! I'll even drive you!

Buttface: I don't know Tabs, I just feel like it's going to be like last time all over again. You'll be the only one I know and you'll try to set me up with the one lesbian that'll be there. And before you say anything, no- I don't want to loose my virginty to some rando. That's not something cool I want to do.

Tabby: Oh come on that was one time and I said I was sorry :((( She won't even be here this time so you don't have to worry about spilling a drink on her again lol.

Buttface: I will kill you if you mention that once more :} Also fine, since you're a needy bitch I guess I'll stop in. When and where is it again?

Tabby: Don't worry about it, remember I said I'll pick you up! Just be ready around 6 tomorrow :)

Buttface: A Sunday night party? Really? We'll have school the next day.

Tabby: :)

God I wish she was the one with anxiety instead of me. I purse my lips as I remember how many things Tabitha has gotten me into. Like that one time she and I were walking in the park and someone yelled out that we were lesbians and she started to cry. I mean, who does that? Kind of scared me to be honest, I never want to walk with a girl anywhere ever again. Well, no that'd be a lie since women are goddesses and I am a simp.

It's then that I hear another buzz come from my phone. I almost don't look at it, I don't want Tabitha to have sent me something weird. When I look at my screen it's a message from an unknown number. I knit my brows together as I tap the message.

(xxx)xxx-xxxx: Hi, I hope this is Oralee Turner, if not that'd be awkward. You can just delete my message if you aren't her. If you are though, please respond with verification of your identity.

Verification? Who was this? How'd they get my number? This better not be another Tabitha set up. I swear one day I'm going to lock that girl in a room with some random guy I find on the street. I will actually not be doing that because men are scary, especially those who you don't know. I'm about to set my phone down and ignore this obvious scammer message, but for some very odd reason I text them back.

Oralee: Hi? This is she, I don't have your number saved in my phone. Who is this if you don't mind me asking? I don't feel comfortable sharing any information with a complete stranger :( Have to make sure you're not a scammer.

(xxx)xxx-xxxx: I understand completely! Of course you'd be cautious of an unknown number! Let me share some things that might make you a little more comfortable with who I am :) My name is Zandra Dominika and I'm 19 years old. I have your number because of your mother, Phelo Turner! I promise I'm not trying to scam you lol, just reaching out to see how your doing!

I think once I know someone is a female I instantly feel safer. It's... not the best feeling to acknowledge that, but then again it's good to still be aware of your surroundings. This person could still try to hurt me, plus they know my mom's name! That's absolutely fucked. I can't trust them right now. Why would I give them any personal information when they are most likely lying to me right now? Though the name Zandra did sound weirdly familiar. Like I knew it from a distant memory or something. Maybe I had seen it in my mom's memory book? I'd have to go check that out later.

(xxx)xxx-xxxx: I know you're probably taking so much time because you still think I'm a scammer, which is good! It shows that you're careful and smart! I'm glad you're not willing to send birthdates and shit to some rando. I'm not sure how I could prove to you that I'm not a scammer. I also know that I most likely scared you off with how I knew your mom. I could explain that if you'd be willing to listen?

Listen? I mean... I could do that, but no! This could be a ploy to get more information from my phone...or... they could be telling the truth. Damn it! I frown to myself, moving my thumbs to make the number a contact.

Oralee: It seems you know a lot about how I'm feeling and already have some information about me. I think this is all the recognition you need, but my curiosity does always get the best of me. Go ahead, tell me how you know my mother's name and how you got my number.

Zandra the randa: Okay... well I just knew how I would feel if someone randomly messaged me asking all these questions and knowing all these things lol. Anyways, I know your mom because she simply knows my mother. They go way back, like further than you're probably thinking right now. We've actually met before but I think you forgot lmao. We were really close actually, we didn't want to leave each other's side. Your mom is still in contact with mine so obviously I was curious how you were and asked for your number. I do think this is Oralee now so no recognition is needed anymore. I... uh... missed you a lot. It's lonely here.

I have to set my phone down for a second. What? I have a long lost friend? I really didn't see that one coming. I usually wasn't the one for making friends. I guess that gives me some explanation as to why I thought her name was so familiar. I'm going to ask mom to help me find that memory book when she gets home. That brings me back to what Zandra had last said. It's lonely here. What did she mean by that? Did she not live in our state? I wonder where she lives, maybe Montana? I'm going to ask her.

Oralee: So we used to know each other... I'm sorry I don't remember that at all honestly, but when my mom gets home I'm going to try and find some pictures if we have any. Maybe that'll help strike a cord in my brain. I do have a question though, where do you live? You make it sound like we're really far away :(

I straighten myself out on my bed, waiting patiently for a response, but one never seems to come. I wait for a good 10 minutes before deciding to do something other than just waiting. It wasn't healthy to get attached so quickly. I bite my lip. I wonder what she looks like. No, Lee there's no time to be gay now. Mom will be home soon and then you can look in the memory book.

I hope she's hot. You know, there are some days I wish I could just shut my thoughts off, especially the horny ones. She's got to at least be into DND, you know? If she can't enjoy be chaotic while being a mythical creature, I don't want it. DND was a way I could believe in small amounts that fairies are real. I smirk to myself as I think about all the times I tried to seduce something in our campaign.

"Lee? Are you awake? Honey I'm coming up!" I feel my body jolt from the sudden rush of adrenalin. Jesus, I guess my mom is home now. I didn't even hear the door open or a car pull up.

"Yeah I'm awake mom! I'll meet you in the hall." I hoist myself off the bed and shake my head. Shit, I didn't even know what time it was. It's nearly midnight and I have a shift tomorrow at the shop. I'm so fucked. I walk to my door and open it swiftly. I'm met with my mother leaned up against the wall across from it. She smiles sweetly at me, her eyes sparkling with delight.

"I missed you Lee." She holds her arms open for a hug and I instantly accept it.

"You too stinky. I hope you had a good night." I enjoy the smell of my mother, how it calms down my senses. It makes me want to cuddle with her all night watching movies, almost like what she suggested earlier. Shit! I never iced my back! That's going to hurt in the morning!

"Oh I did, it was long." I feel my body tense and I back away from her. My face scrunches up in disgust.

"Mom! God I don't want to hear about your night in that much detail!" I plug my ears like a child and shake my head vigorously.

"Meh, your loss." She shrugs and I can tell she wants to go to sleep. Her eyes are half lidded and she looks very loopy.

"If you're done, I do have a question. Where is that memory book you made when I was little? I got a text tonight from someone named Zandra Dominika. Do you know her?" I question, motioning towards her. She seems to suddenly wake up. Her eyes widen slightly as she processes what I just told her.

"Did you say Zandra finally reached out to you? Well thank fucking god, took her long enough. She's had your number for like 4 years. I thought ya'll would start where you left off, but I can see by your vacant expression that you don't know what I'm talking about." She smiles with a small chuckle. "Well, how about we talk about it tomorrow night okay? You and I can have some finger foods and maybe even some drinks. Talk for a while. I'll explain things to you clearly." She grins and gestures to my room. "Now, what do you say we get some sleep?" She nods and shuffles towards her room.

Well...how am I going to be two places at once? Do I want to go to a party or sit and veg out with my mom. Definitely the latter, but I have to go to the party, I promised Tabs. I'm just going to have to make both work!

+          +          +          +          +

It was Sunday afternoon before I could think of an excuse to miss Tabitha's party. Ugh, why'd she have to be such a good friend. Yeah she's made plenty of mistakes in our friendship, but so have I. I've known her forever, I can't just let her down by telling her I'd come to her party and then not going. I know it shouldn't matter, but I just don't want to deal with her mad at me on top of trying to figure out who the hell Zandra was. My mom seemed to like her enough I guess, but was that just a mom thing? Was I really close to this girl or is my mom trying to get me a girlfriend? I purse my lips as I give that a little more thought. Nah, my mom isn't the type to do that, she's not that desperate to please her gay daughter. She knows relationships, especially those of the gay variety have to take time. They have to happen naturally, not by some silly match making friend. It makes both parties feel very uncomfortable.

"Miss? I'd like to buy those now." I hear someone say. It was a guy about my age who looked pretty nervous. He had that all time popular floofy hair and had sun kissed skin. His eyes were an emerald green, like how you'd see algae in a pond. His face looks like someone took brown paint and scattered freckles all over it. I smile in my customer satisfaction smile.

"Of course! Sorry I was just lost in thought about something going on." I laugh lightly to try and make this situation less awkward.

"Yeah I totally get it! I'm not sure what flowers she'll like, so I'm sort of freaking out about it." He looks up to meet my gaze, his emerald eyes lighting up. "Hey do you think a mysterious type of girl who doesn't really like flowers would like these?" He holds up black nemophilas. I smirk to myself. Did he really have to pick such a literal meaning for a flower? I think this guy is way over his head. He shouldn't be buying flowers for this girl, he should be taking her to watch the stars. She seems like the kind of girl to like that.

"Well, those flowers have a secret meaning, you wanna know what it is?" I raise my brows like I'm about to whisk this guy into a crazy story about how these flowers got their name. He nods his head frantically. "Those are black Nemophilas, they usually are small beautiful flowers, but can bloom in all white, pink, white with some purple, or like what you have there. They're called black Nemophilas but they actually look purple with white around the edges of the petals right? Although it's cooler to think that they bloomed black. They're mostly grown as a houseplant because of their resistance to freezing temperatures." I grin widely. I get so happy talking about flowers. I meet his eyes again and he looks extremely happy.

"Shit. Thank you so much. I'm sure she'll love these." He smiles kindly and for the first time in a while, I see him lift the buds to his nose. He takes a small whiff in and a grin spreads across his face. "It smells like sweat." He laughs.

"I-uh... yeah, they're not known for smelling too nice." I stumble over my words, still shocked that someone actually stopped to smell a flower in my shop. They were always too busy buying the flowers to care about what they smelled like. It seemed like the first time someone had cared enough to take time out of their day to smell the flowers. Instead of picking up the prettiest rose and whisking it away without a second glance my way.

I gulp in, not knowing why him smelling a flower got to me so much. "Uh, yeah if you'll just set them down here I'll get them prepared for you to take." I nod curtly and whisk around to the preparation counter. It has scissors, shears, a spray bottle, and some other gardening things. Get it together Lee.

"Thanks so much for this by the way. Pretty sure she's going to fall in love with me because of the sweaty flowers. My name is Elijah, I think we go to school together." I feel my back tense. Great, he goes to my school.

"Yeah?" I say over my shoulder. "What grade are you in?" I ask. Lee why are you continuing the conversation? You don't even like to talk to your cat most of the time.

"I'm a junior, struggling in Mrs. Groution's English class." I can almost hear the smile in his voice. "You're a senior right?" He prods. Dear lord he has seen me around school.

"Yup!" I reply politely. "I'm just ready to get out of here and graduate you know? I have the case of senioritis bad." What I said was honest. I didn't like my high school. It was filled with fake kids and even more fake adults. We had a "zero tolerance" for bullying, yet some of my friends can tell me stories they've heard that says otherwise. It was just an overall distaste for the whole putting on looks situation. A school wasn't supposed to use kids like that, I absolutely hated it. His voice takes me out of thought and back to the situation at hand. I was having an interaction, I needed to focus on that, no matter how much I wanted to hide from it. There were days like this, the ones where I didn't want to be around people at all, but other days it's better to be around them so I can thrive off of some energy people give off.

"You seem a bit lost in though, I'm sorry I can just get out of your hair." He laughs, but I can tell he's a little hurt by the fact I'm so lost in thought. I feel bad even though I barely know the guy.

"Nah, I'm just a deep thinker you know? I get lost in thought very easily. I'm not the best in social situations face to face." I turn to give him a genuine smile. I see his eyes light up again. Good, he feels better.

"Oh no I totally get how that feels. I hate how our school does this whole," he instantly puts on a fake posh accent, "We have the smartest and happiest kids." He lets out a chuckle afterwards. "Little do they know that half of us are depressed and the other half are too busy peaking in high school to be bothered by their sadness." I turn to look him in the eyes, mine growing wider by the second. We make eye contact and then suddenly burst into laughter. My word, he does get it. Shame on me for assuming Elijah and I would have nothing in common. After a bit I can finally breathe again from laughing so hard. I wipe my eyes still giggling lightly.

"Here are your flowers Elijah, good luck." I smile as he graciously takes the flowers and waves enthusiastically to me as he leaves. The smile stayed on my lips for the rest of my work day. Then it was time for me to get ready for Tabitha's party. Joy to the world.

+          +          +          +          +

I ended up wearing something comfortable over cute. If anyone had issue with it, I'd just tell them to fuck off. Well, not actually, I'd just think it. I was in some black sweats with a stretchy maroon shirt. I slipped my off brand crocs I got from a farmers market with my mom a couple years ago and a cute anklet. I pull my hair up in a pony to keep it mostly out of my face. I had normal blonde hair that was naturally pretty curly, but I had a Great Aunt who would give me perms every once in a while. Noting this, I pull some curly strands to frame my face so it didn't look so round. I put on a dangly bracelet and my chain necklace. I'm overall happy with my look, but I'm sure Tabitha will have something to say about it. I decide to put on some gold rings to match the chain in hopes that they'll suffice for her.

I stuff my phone and some earbuds in my pocket and then grab a few dollars out of my wallet. I could need some cash for food later, not sure. I do a once over of myself in the mirror and pat my pudgy stomach. "Oh yeah Oralee Turner you are looking sexy tonight." I give myself finger guns in the mirror and head out my door, grinning to myself like an idiot. I hop down the stairs and towards the front door. Mom hadn't come home yet from errands so I write her a quick note to let her know I'll be back a little later than midnight, seeing as it was getting close to 6 already. Speaking of the time, where the hell is Tabitha? She said was going to pick me up right? I cram my hand into my pocket to find my phone. I unlock it only to find Tabitha had texted me a couple minutes earlier.

Tabby: Hey, I can't pick you up tonight! :( I have to meet up with someone pretty soon so you're going to have to drive yourself!! Sorry babes!

I groan and turn my phone off. This was a great start to the night, because not only did I not like driving, but I was definitely not okay with my car going to a party. I angrily grab my keys from the bowl in the halltree and rush out to my car. I want to be one of the firsts ones there so I can find a good place to sit and an escape route. I start my small car and am met with my comfort station of old rock songs. Okay, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. I pull out of the driveway and roll my window down. The fresh nigh air whips the tendrils of hair I pulled out around my face, it's slightly annoying, but I like the fresh air. It smells like rain and it was such a cool night. It's about a couple minutes into driving when I realize Tabitha didn't tell me where this party was being held. Damn it why am I still even trying to go to this thing? It's like I felt some kind of pull to go and I hated that Tabitha could just pull on my heart strings like that. I pull over into an abandoned parking lot and pull out my phone.

Buttface: where the fuck is this party again?

The reply is almost instant.

Tabby: Ah, it's at this jock's house. 1987 Elmore North, I think his name is Elijah, come on get here girl!!

My eyes widen and a grin spreads across my lips. You sneaky son of a bitch. Did Elijah buy those flowers for Tabs? Maybe this is why I felt such a pull to go to the party. I can get to know Elijah more and if he's that cool then maybe the people he invited are pretty cool too. I feel like a ton of bricks have been lifted off my shoulders as I set my phone down in one of the cup holders. His house was a short drive from where I was now, it would only take me about 2 minutes to get there and his neighborhood is rather large, meaning big houses, meaning there's bound to be a dog to pet. Count me truly ready to party now.

I make it to his house and hop out of my car. I feel lucky that not a lot of cars are there yet and that I can see Tabitha's. Should I have brought something? No, I did help him pick out those flowers. I subconsciously put my hands in my pockets, walking up to the backyard gate which is open. There are outside lights set up and small campfire flickering in a stone firepit. There's a deck with a grill and below ground pool near the fence line of the property. It's a pretty nice backyard, but I only see a couple people out here and none of them are anyone I know. I hurry up and spot the glass sliding door to the inside. Of course it's a glass sliding door. I clumsily wander over to the door and slide it open. I'm hit with warm air and a yelling voice coming from deeper in the house. I glance back to the group outside which consists of 2 boys and 3 girls all chatting about an English assignment. I definitely don't want to try to join in on their conversation so I step inside and shut the door from behind me.

"I thought we had something Tabby!" I hear a familiar voice yell.

"Well you don't know shit! And don't call me that! I should have never come here! Damn it!" Once I hear my friend's name I'm on my way to find her, when I do find her, I find Elijah with her. Tabitha has the flowers clutched in her hands, breaking the stems. Elijah breaks his angry stare from Tabitha when he spots me. He looks almost shocked to see me, but his demeanor changes when he puts it together that I'm not here to be on his side. "What took you so long Lee? I was waiting for you!" Tabitha stares at me with pleading eyes, her grip on the flowers hardening, I can tell by the way they droop even lower to the ground.

"I-I had to drive myself and I didn't know where I w-was going at first." I look between the two of them. "What's going on?" I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have come here. Why did I come here? I take a few steps backwards.

"This fucker thought flowers where his way into my pants." Tabitha hisses and tosses the flowers to the ground. I wince. I get that she was upset, but the flowers didn't do anything. They had a nice life after all, I cut and prepared them. Someone actually stopped to smell them. I got to share facts about them! I never get to do that! "Well fuck that." Before I can think she stomps the flowers into the hardwood floor. Her boot cuts into their stems and when she's done it's a mess of petals and leaves.

"I wasn't trying to get into your pants!" Elijah finally shouts. "I actually just wanted to be a gentleman because so many fucking guys out here are disgusting!" I can tell he's upset about her stepping on the flowers and her words by the way his voice wobbles and his eyes flit between the crumpled petals. I'm upset now too. I can't really tell why I'm so upset but I meet Tabitha's eyes with tears in my own. My brows are drawn into an angry expression as I glance down at the mess by her feet.

"I-they-you- those flowers had no part in this... why'd you do that? You know how I feel about flowers Tabs. They have lives too." I meet her gaze again. I want her to apologize but all she does is roll her eyes.

"They're not alive Lee, don't be such a pansy. For fuck's sake can we focus on my problems here?" She hisses. A chill runs through my body. I can feel my blood boil and freeze almost simultaneously. Elijah stares at her in disbelief.

"Fuck you." I hiss and squeeze my eyes shut. The tears finally break over the barrier and fall down my cheeks. I rush out the way I came, a sick feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

She knows how I feel about them! She knows how much they meant to my grandad. How much shit he had to go through to keep the shop going. He raised me, teaching me about the different effects flowers could have. Flowers were a language not spoken by many.

"Lee! Lee wait I'm sorry! I was angry! Lee-" I run. I run until I'm outside and shutting the door. Why'd I come here? Why'd I do it? God I was so stupid? Stupid. That's me. No no no no, fuck! I ball my fists and wipe at my face. I realize the group outside is looking my way and I curse under my breath. I turn on my heel and fast walk the fuck out of there. I try to make the tears stop falling, but they keep streaming down my face.

"Fuck, fuck, shit." I curse, then suddenly I knock shoulders with someone who grunts because of the impact. I stop in my tracks, I may be upset but my mother taught me manners. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" I finally look up to see who I bumped into. A tall girl about my age stands in front of me. She has pink hair tied into space buns and heart shaped glasses on. Her earrings are also in the shape of hearts as well as the choker she's wearing. She has high-waisted jeans on with a flowy blouse to match. She was absolutely stunning. She even had a beauty mark under her eye that stood out in the moonlight.

"It's okay," She pauses as she gets a better look at me. "A-are you okay?" Her brows instantly knit in concern. Shit, has she noticed I'm not mentally stable already?

"I-uh... yeah I'm fine." I decide to answer. "I... I'm actually going." I sigh. She purses her lips and then frowns.

"That's too bad, you seemed cool. I was hoping to talk some more." She grins. I nod in agreement.

"I am pretty cool, but I should really get going." I jab my thumb towards where my car is.

"Lee?" I whisk around to see Tabitha at the gate.

"Shit." I hiss. "See ya, I gotta go!" I yell and practically Olympic sprint to my car. I unlock my car as fast as I can and hop in. I turn the key and start to back out when I see Tabitha waving wildly in front of me. Yeah, I'm never going to another one of her 'fun' parties. I shake my head and wipe at my face. Pansy? I tense as I speed towards home. Never again.

I get home around 8:45pm and to my surprise my mom is home. I pull in behind her car and put mine in park. I don't think this night can get any worse. I get out of my car, lock it, spin my keys around my fingers a couple times, and then head towards my front door. Before I can open it, it's opened for me. "Evening sweetie, what brings you home so early?" My mother stands in the doorway with a frown on her face. I sigh and lightly push past her into the house.

"Oh you know, just too cool for the party life." I give her a fake smile and she clicks her tongue.

"That bad?" She questions. I nod and flop down on the couch. It's then that I notice the memory book on the coffee table. Her eyes light up. "Oh yes! Miss Zandra, you wanted to see a picture of her right? Now, since you're home so early we're going to have lots of time to look at pictures and discuss, but I need you to have an open mind." She gives me a stern look. I roll my eyes.

"Mom, I'm a gay teen, I have to keep an open mind at all times." I fire back. She pauses for a moment then nods her head in agreement. She flops down next to me grabbing one of the books. I snuggle up next to her, loving her comforting scent.

"Ah here's a good one, it's of you guys when you were little." She flips the book for me to see the picture. It's little me with that appears to be strap on fairy wings on my back, same for who I'm assuming is Zandra.

"That's her?" I point to the other little girl. She nods and coos about how cute we look. Zandra has the same sparkly dress up wings on. I chuckle at how cheap they look. Mom flips a couple pages and gasps.

"Oh and here's a more recent picture of her!" She taps the page excitedly. My eyes widen as I scan the photo in front of me. Pink hair tied back in regal braids, a white dress with gold accents trailing up the bodice, her slender arms folded in front of her, and those same sparkling wings on her back, only about four times the size. I gasp as my eyes follow what seems to be a swirling pattern in them.

"I-is she into fantasy shoots or something?" I choke over my words. She was beautiful. It takes me a moment to finally notice the glimmering gold crown around her head. It has a hanging purple jewel dangling in the middle of her forehead. My eyes trail down her face and land on a beauty mark under her eye. If my eyes could widen any more I think they did at that moment.

"Um, well not exactly sweetie, there's been something I've needed to tell you for a while now."

Of course.

[flightsoffandom]

Second Date

Pairs: Aaron Hotchner x Reader (Future SugarDaddy!Hotch x SugarBaby!Reader)

Words: 4548

Summary: It’s time for you and Aaron to have a second date. After having to reschedule a few times finally Aaron has time to meet up with you.

Warnings: None??

Notes:  Left completely gender-neutral. Finally figured out the name of the whole Series, “Unconventional”. This took a lot longer than I planned, my brain just hasn't been working great whenever I want to sit down and write.

A Continuation of Unconventional -- Peer Pressure -- Second Date*

Aaron was true to his word and called you within a day or two of your first date. You both planned where you would meet for your second outing. However, fate had other plans because Aaron ended up calling a few hours before the date to tell you he had to work. This pattern repeated for about two weeks. You weren’t sure what Aaron did for a living. He never mentioned it. While you could look him up online in the modern age, you didn’t feel right about doing that. Clearly, it was something that kept Aaron extremely busy. You were a bit disappointed, sure, but you understood and weren’t upset about it. Aaron seemed more annoyed about it then you were. He was overly apologetic. You tried to ease his mind and reassure him that it was okay, but he didn’t exactly listen to you. 

You were sitting in your apartment, bouncing between filling out job applications and scholarship paperwork. Lying on your couch, half lounging with your laptop resting on your legs. You were filling out both physical and digital versions of the applications. In between filling out forms, you allowed yourself to ‘relax’ by looking over your bank account and other finances. You had the tv on for background noise. You were hyper-focused on the task at hand. So you almost didn’t realize your phone was ringing right away. After a few rings, you muted the tv to figure out if it was coming from the television or not. When you heard it was actually your phone, you scrambled to grab it. You didn’t even look at who was calling before picking up, “Hello?” You heard some car noises before the caller speaks, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Hearing Aaron’s voice made you smile. You chuckle, “Nah, I just thought the ringing was from the tv. I’m just sitting around.” Aaron lets out a relieved sigh, “Good.” There was a pause and the sound of a car door closing, “Are you free tonight?” You sit up, “I am. I just need some time to change clothes. Then I can meet you wherever.” Aaron chuckles, “Actually, I’m coming to you.” You hear a knock on the door. Jumping up off the couch, you hold your phone to your ear as you hurriedly put your laptop on the dining room table before going to the door. 

You open the door to see Aaron standing there. You smile, “Hey.” You hear your voice echo between your two phones, causing you to hang up. You stand there for a moment before realizing that you were basically wearing your pajamas. You blush and move to the side to let Aaron into your apartment, “If we are going anywhere, I will need to change.” You rub the back of your neck. Aaron’s face looked softer than usual, “I didn’t have any plans. I came straight from work.” After Aaron walks in, you close the door and lock it behind him. When you turn around Aaron has an almost guilty look on his face, “I was going to bring flowers or something as an apology for all the canceled dates, but I didn't know if you had allergies. I figured I would make it up to you by coming over tonight. Since I have time… I am sorry about all the canceled plans, by the way.” Aaron looked even more guilty now. You couldn't help but smile at his mixture of nervousness and sweetness, "It's okay. I promise." Aaron opens his mouth, and you just know that he is about to apologize again. So instead, you interrupt him, "Have you eaten yet?" Aaron shakes his head, "I haven't." You give a small nod before turning into the kitchen, "Me either. Let's see what I can scrounge up." Starting to go through the cabinets. 

While you were looking for some food to make, you saw Aaron looking around your apartment. He was very polite about it, so you wouldn't call it snooping. You went to look through the fridge and see what you had. Aaron commented, “Are these your finances?” You shoot up, hitting your head on the refrigerator as you stand up. You winced and rubbed the back of your head, looking over at him. Aaron was already sitting in front of your laptop. A severe expression had set back into his face. He crossed his arms as he looked it over. You bit at your lip. Aaron looked over at you inquisitively. Usually, you probably would have stopped him, but you supposed this was why you got involved with him, to begin with. You sucked it up and replied, “Yeah, it is.” You went back to digging through the fridge. Not having a whole lot to choose from didn't help you make a decision. It also didn't help that you were nervous about what Aaron thought of your spending habits and financial situation. 

After looking through your fridge and every cabinet twice, you finally break. You speak, abruptly disturbing the silence, “Can you stop sitting over there judging me?” Quickly you walk over and sit in the chair next to him, trying to obscure the screen in any way. Aaron’s brows were already knit together, looking much too serious for your taste. He keeps the laptop in place and looks at you, “I’m not judging you.” You whine and start childishly blocking the screen with your hands, “I could feel the judgment all the way in the kitchen.” Aaron’s firm grasp on your computer doesn't allow much leeway, and with your hands not blocking enough of the screen, you just huff, “This is supposed to be a date, right? And you're sitting over here looking like an accountant.” Aaron’s stern demeanor breaks as a smirk slides onto his face. You can already feel your nerves dissipating. He shakes his head at you, “This is a date, yes.” The smirk slides off his face, but his face stays softer than before, “I think this is a fairly important conversation we need to have.” You glare at him half-heartedly, knowing he was right. 

You hum softly, “Do you have normal clothes to change into? That would make this feel a lot less official.” Aaron nods, “I have a bag of clothes in my car.” You perk up, “Perfect.” Standing up, you start gently nudging him, “Go get your bag, and you can change in here.” Aaron narrows his eyes at you, “Don’t try to hide that before I get back.” He was pointing to your laptop, his tone had more authority in it than normal. Even if that had been your plan, it definitely wasn't anymore. You give a quick nod to show that you understand, followed by a smile. Aaron gets up and heads out temporarily. You let him out and then proceed to wait right by the door for him to get back. It doesn't take him long to return. When you let Aaron back into your apartment, you see a very official-looking duffle bag in his hand. You smile and motion him to your bedroom, “Feel free to change in there.” Aaron offers a slight smile before closing himself into your bedroom. 

You froze the second the door closed. Trying to think for a moment if you had anything embarrassing lying around in your room. There was probably a semi-tamed pile of dirty laundry, a bunch of school books scattered about, and maybe some applications for things. Other than that, you couldn't think of anything too awkward out in the open. Feeling more at ease allowed you to focus back on finding something to eat. Even with your mind cleared of some anxiety, you couldn't find anything that would be good for dinner. You resort to ordering some food for both of you. You weren't sure what Aaron would like, so you waited for him to finish changing. As you wait, you grab your laptop and sit on the couch. Staring at the numbers on the screen, maybe Aaron was hardcore judging your spending habits. You had to admit they weren't the best, but you really tried to stick to a budget. When you heard your bedroom door open, your attention was immediately drawn to it. 

You saw Aaron in a very comfy looking polo-shirt and jeans. He looked good like that, and he even seemed more relaxed. A smile spreads across your face when you see Aaron. He looks over at you, “Better?” You give an excited nod. Maybe a bit too enthusiastic, but luckily it seems to make Aaron smile. You look him over again before asking, “Why do you wear suits all the time? And why was there a bag of clothes in your car?” Aaron walks over to the couch and doesn't quite sit down yet. He makes an almost confused face, “You don’t know where I work?” The look he gave you made you feel like you should know the answer. You started worrying that he had mentioned it before, and you didn't remember. You rub the back of your neck, nervously, “N...No. Should I?” You start to overthink things and look up at him with apologetic eyes, “I’m sorry if you brought it up before.” Aaron study’s your face for a moment, crossing his arms, “But you meet Rossi. So, you know what he does for a living.” You felt like he was evaluating you on something. You didn't know the right answer, “I only met him once... I think I have one of his books somewhere. All I know is that he is an author that used to work in law enforcement of some kind… but he is retired, right?” You try to figure out if these answers were what Aaron was looking for, but he was practically unreadable. You swallow hard and look up at him, trying to figure out why he seemed equally attractive and intimidating in both a polo-shirt and a suit. 

Aaron raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t look him or myself up?” You fiddle with the edges of your laptop, “I knew David was famous and took a risk that I could trust him. Looking you up feels like cheating, though.” You break eye contact with him, “I mean… We are supposed to be going on dates and learning about each other that way.” You heard Aaron let out a soft sigh, “Would you mind if I only answered part of your question then?” His voice was much softer than it was just moments ago. You look back over to him and nod. Aaron looks down at you with a bit of uncertainty, “I need a bag of clothes for work.” He finally unfolds his arms and takes a seat next to you on the couch, “I would rather not talk about my job though.” Aaron pauses before adding, “I don’t want to think about it when I’m with you.” This time he seems a bit unsure of his last sentence. Aaron cleared his throat, trying to move on from what he just said. You could tell he wasn't sure if the last part was too much or out of line in some way. You wanted to reassure him, “That’s totally fine.” You offer a genuine smile, trying to express that you understood fully. Aaron seems to appreciate it because he responds with a slight smile of his own. 

You pull out your phone, "What do you want for dinner? I don't really have anything here." Aaron thinks for a moment, "What sounds good to you?" You glare at him, "Nope. You pick." Aaron raises an eyebrow at you. You shake your head and add, "I picked last time. Now it's your turn." Aaron chuckles and shakes his head, "Fine." Aaron suggests a place that is close by, so you call and order the food. 

    Aaron looks at you once you're off the phone, "You are going to let me pay this time." It was phrased as a question, but it was more of a statement. You slide your phone into your pocket and scoff, "Why would I do that?" Aaron narrows his eyes at you, "Because of that whole situation." He points to your computer. Your attention gets drawn back to the laptop sitting on your legs. Biting your lip, you chuckle, “Don’t judge me too much based on this, okay? I can justify every purchase.” Aaron raises an eyebrow and smirks, “Really?” You narrow your eyes at him, up for the challenge, “Yes.” Aaron smirks and nods, “Okay, then.” Determined, you buckle down, getting ready to defend yourself. Over the next few hours, you both look it over and discuss it. There is a short pause when the food arrives. After you let Aaron pay for it, you both get right back to the evaluation. It wasn't the funniest situation. Having to sit there and look over all the things you had spent money on with a practical stranger. However, parts of this financial conversation were kind of fun. 

Aaron looked from the numbers to you, “Seems like you're eating out a lot. You need to go grocery shopping more.” His voice was very parental and borderline lecturing. You automatically resorted to pouting, “It's not that bad.” Aaron narrows his eyes at you, even going as far as to point to the recently finished food. Since it was your idea to order out and you didn't have a lot of food currently, so he was right. That, however, doesn't stop you from pouting further, “They are family-owned local places, and I am friends with a lot of the people. I wanna help them out.” Aaron lets out a soft sigh, “It’s irresponsible.” It was a weak protest on his part. Aaron’s voice was less judgmental. Clearly, he was a big softy under the stern, responsible exterior. So out of curiosity, you wanted to test how close he was to dropping the whole lecturing thing. You let out a whine, “So judgy…” You close your eyes and let your head lightly fall onto the back of the couch. Feeling Aaron’s eyes on you made you curiously open just one eye to peek at him. Surprisingly Aaron had his eyebrows raised, looking amused. As soon as you knew he saw you peeking, you closed your eye again and let out a small huff. This earned you a chuckle from Aaron before he spoke, “You're acting childish.” He didn't even sound remotely mad, so it took all your willpower not to crack a smile right then. You pressed your lips into a firm line in order to hold off as long as you could. You managed to speak without laughing, “ ‘Baby’ is in the title, isn't it? So, I think I’m allowed to act a bit childish.” You let a smile slide onto your face, unable to contain it anymore. Opening your eyes as you chuckled. Aaron was smiling too, which you very much enjoyed seeing. Aaron shook his head at you, “I suppose it comes with the role then.” He looked off to the side for a moment, looking mischievous, “But that would mean I’m allowed to be ‘judgy’ because of my title in this arrangement as well.” Aaron looked at you with a smirk, and you started laughing, “Touche.” 

You sit up, moving your laptop over onto the coffee table, “I think both of us did well then, and now it's time to do something fun.” Aaron’s face quickly got serious, “We still need to talk about how I could help you with your financial situation.” You sigh and roll your eyes, making sure it’s overdramatic, so he doesn't get too upset by this response. You look at him, “I am not so financially insecure that I am going to go bankrupt in the next few days.” Aaron narrows his eyes at you, looking like he is about to say something. Before he can, you speak up again, wanting to make your point clear to him, “Aaron, I don’t need or want a human ATM. I wouldn't feel right doing that to anyone, and that's not how I see you.” Aaron seems slightly surprised by your candid response. You feel yourself getting nervous, so you clear your throat to move on, “Let’s do something fun.” Aaron studies you for a minute. You try to relax under his gaze even as it feels like he is trying to analyze you. 

Aaron finally softens up once again as he speaks, “It’s late. Where would we go?” You make a playfully disgusted face, “Go out? Eww.” You chuckle, “Don’t get me wrong, outside is great and all but this time of night, it's just clubs open.” You fake gag before bringing your legs up onto the couch. Your brain automatically drifted to all the Sugar Daddy’s Oliva brought around. They loved the whole ‘younger people scene’ like crazy parties or clubs. That wasn't really you. You didn't think Aaron was interested in that either, but you started to feel self-conscious. Curling up as you add, “I suppose my idea of fun is fairly boring compared to most people my age, though.” You finish off your statement with a nervous chuckle as you rubbed the back of your neck. Aaron offers a sweet smile and laughs, “My friends call me boring too, so it's okay.” You can't help but smile back, “We can be boring together.” 

You grab the tv remote and hand it to him. Settling in and getting comfy. Aaron looks at you, inquisitively, “You want me to pick?” You shrug as you laugh, “Sure. I’m good with whatever.” He hesitantly starts channel surfing. You watch for a while until you deem enough time has passed, and you try to pull some forms onto your lap sneakily. You start filling them out ever so slowly, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself. Aaron seems to linger on news channels, which wasn’t too surprising. It makes you chuckle to yourself. You glance at the screen every now and then. You weren't one to watch the news yourself, other than maybe for weather updates or something. You didn't mind, though. Aaron seemed to catch himself pausing on the news, clearing his throat in a ‘casual’ fashion before changing the channel. You don't pay it much mind until you notice the serious look set onto his face. 

You stop writing to thoroughly look at him, “You don’t seem to be having much fun…” You let out a soft sigh, “I promise that normally I am a better host.” Aaron easily pulled his attention away from the tv. His brows knitted together, “If you're busy, I can leave.” Aaron even starts moving like he is ready to leave right now. You quickly lunge forward, gently grabbing his arm, so he doesn't get up, “Please don’t!” Your words came out a lot needier and rushed then you meant to. Having no clue what just came over you, you just as quickly let go of his arm. You feel your cheeks heat up, “Sorry… I mean, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I would understand if you didn’t want to sit around, though.” You altogether avoid eye contact. You liked Aaron, sure, and it was nice having someone around, even if nothing was happening. But it was only your second date, and that small gesture could be seen as you being very desperate. 

You feel a slight frown slip onto your face, “Some of these are due tomorrow.” Aaron gets a serious look on his face again, “What sort of problems financial problems have you been having?” You were glad he didn't say anything about your sudden outburst a minute ago, but you also weren't thrilled talking about your finances again. You try to brush it off with a laugh, “You saw my finances, so you tell me.” You feel Aaron’s glare bore into you. You look up at him and try to add a smile to the joke, which makes Aaron roll his eyes. Aaron keeps the stern look on his face. Since you avoided Aaron’s question, he decides to answer yours instead, “You need a new job, it's not paying you enough. That is unless you're working fewer hours for school.” You didn't want to talk about your job. It was complicated and stressful to think about. You cave and decide to answer Aaron’s original question, “My scholarship is being permanently canceled. There was a letter with a lot of legal and financial jargon on it that I didn’t fully understand, but I can’t rely on it to pay for my classes anymore.” Aaron’s glare intensifies when he notices you avoiding the question about your job, but he lets it slide for the time being. He raises an eyebrow, “Where is the letter?” You pause and think, “With my other important papers…” You huff, “Reading over that letter won't be fun for either of us. I said we should do something fun.” Aaron rolls his eyes, “And you truly look like you're having so much fun right now.” You glare at him for a moment before turning your attention back down to the applications in front of you. 

Out of spite, you quickly fill out whatever spots you have left on the paper in front of you. Once finished, you carefully toss the stack of papers onto the end table. Then you turn your attention back to Aaron, “There… done. Now I am completely finished for the night.” You can’t help but chuckle, "My undivided attention is now all yours." Aaron rolls his eyes at you, but you see the ghost of a smile on his face. He hands the tv remote back over to you, "Alright, then you get to pick." This time you glare at Aaron but start surfing through channels. At some point, you officially settle on watching 'Unwrapped'. It was a nice relaxing show. Plus, it was semi-educational, and you enjoyed it. Aaron seemed to like it as well, so it was a good thing to watch for the night. It was already getting late, and you were tired. You managed to stay awake for a while, but at some point, your body ultimately gave in, and you fell asleep. 

You wake up on the couch, feeling groggy. Rubbing your eyes, you realize that Aaron had fallen asleep with you. You check the time and see that it’s the middle of the night. You stretch slightly and slowly get up. After you stand up, you gently nudge Aaron. He wakes up a bit startled. You start sleepily cooing at him, “Everything is okay, you're fine.” Aaron’s initial reaction eased into confusion. You turn the tv off, “We both fell asleep on the couch.” Aaron lets out a light groan, “Oh… I should head home then.” You turn back to look at him and roll your eyes, “No way in hell am I letting you drive home this late. It’s like 3 am.” Aaron gets another confused look on this face, “I guess the couch will be fine then.” You chuckle, “Come on. Don’t be like that. I have a bed, and it's a decent size. We will both fit in it.” Aaron narrows his eyes at you, almost looking at you suspiciously. You sigh, “Don’t be dramatic. When you were a kid, you shared a bed with your friends for sleepovers.” Aaron gives a groggy nod before conceding with a sigh, “Alright.” You head into your bedroom, deciding these clothes were close enough to pajamas for you to sleep in them. You slide onto your side of the bed and set an alarm for some time tomorrow. Aaron had followed behind you. Once you had laid down, he took the other side of the bed. If both of you had been any less exhausted then, you would probably be nervous about this. But all you could think about was getting back to sleep. It didn’t take long for sleep to retake you. 

You woke up to the sound of a phone ringing. You couldn't think of who would be calling you. You search for your phone and grab it. When you go to check the time, you notice two things. First that it was only around 7 am which no one should be calling you this early. Then you see that no one is calling your phone even though a phone is still ringing. That's when your brain caught back up with you, remembering that you let Aaron stay the night since it was so late. The phone doesn't get a chance to ring more than three or four times before he picks it up. Aaron’s voice comes out, only slightly groggy but stern, “Hotchner.” There are a few moments of silence before he speaks again, “I’ll be right in.” You feel him move to get off the bed, and you open your eyes. Sitting up a bit. Aaron was already rushing to get ready, but he did notice that you were awake. He gave you an apologetic look, “Sorry if that call woke you up.” A small yawn overtakes you before you respond, “No worries, It’s totally fine.” You smile at him as he grabs his bag full of extra clothes. Aaron disappears into the bathroom, probably to change. 

You get out of bed and start making some coffee, feeling that he will probably need some. You try to look for breakfast, but you don't have anything that would be considered ‘to-go’ food. You settle on just coffee. You lean against the counter as you wait. Aaron emerges from your bedroom, and you pour some coffee into a thermos. You turn around, handing it to him, “Here you go.” He looks from the container to you, “I… Thank you.” Aaron gives a small smile before grabbing the thermos from you. You chuckle and smile, “No problem. I know last night was probably boring and more casual than you expected-” You pause for just a moment. Before you can continue, Aaron quickly speaks up, “No.” He stops himself and clears his throat before calming his voice down, “I like casual, it’s relaxing.” A smile spreads across your face, “I had fun, so I’m glad you enjoyed it as well.” Aaron watches you for a moment, almost like he is thinking about something. You tilt your head curiously, about to ask him. Suddenly a realization hit him, and he checked his watch, “I have to go.” You lean against the counter and nod, “Alright.” Aaron scrambles to get all his stuff together to get ready to go. 

Right before he is about to walk out the door, you quickly peak around the corner, “Hey.” Aaron stops and turns to look at you, a stern yet worried look on his face, “Yeah?” You grin, “Feel free to randomly stop by my apartment again. Anytime.” Aaron cracks a smile. He diverts eye contact to the ground as he chuckles, “I just might take you up on that.” You laugh and use a fake stern voice, “You better.” You pause and lean against the wall, “Have a good day.” Aaron chuckles again and nods, “You too.” With that, he quickly leaves, closing the door behind him.

A Continuation of Unconventional -- Peer Pressure -- Second Date*

Tags: @joyofbebbanburg @withyoutilltheendofthismess @marvel-is-my-life-blog @ladyravenclaw @ellvswriting @cheyxfu @ssareidbby @sothisiswhatwedonow @xrainydazeteax

[fortisfiliae]

Promised Part 4 - Tom Riddle x reader

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 | Masterpost | Masterlist

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 2k

Part 4 - One and the Same

As the weeks passed and the weather in late October turned colder, the halls and chambers in Hogwarts stayed warm. It also seemed that somebody specific had warmed up around you as well. Tom didn’t ignore you anymore. Not completely at least. He was still distant, but you guessed that was just how he was. Progress, still.

Camille was sure he liked you, even if he didn’t show it. You didn’t entirely agree with her, but it was definitely a start.

You had just thought of him when you walked along the shore of the Black Lake alone. Since Avery and Lestrange hadn’t dared to even look at you for more than a moment, you felt save enough to wander around on your own again. And you enjoyed taking time for yourself. To manage your thoughts in peace, while the wind howled across the water to keep you company. 

Tom must have been impressed by your potions skills. His demeanour had changed ever since you beat him making Moonseed Poison, even though you thought he was mad at you at first. You had lost count of how often you had thought about that smirk on his face and what that did to your stomach. It was almost embarrassing how many times you started daydreaming, how your mind wanted to drift off, and you let it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by someone calling out your name and hasty footsteps coming your way from behind. You stopped and turned around to see who it was. Benjamin Hilt. The Gryffindor boy from sixth year, who had already asked too many questions. 

He was quite short for a boy of his age, but it seemed like he didn’t care about it. He didn’t care about a lot of things apparently. He wore jeans a lot. A clothing item wizards would usually not choose as their attire since it was such a muggle thing to wear. 

You thought it was his way of revolting the system. A very subliminal way of showing his political views. His hair must have also been part of that. That, or he didn’t own a comb. 

Not that he was unpopular, he definitely had friends. They were all like him to an extend. Loud, candid and sometimes a bit scandalising. They liked to be the centre of attention, even if that meant they would go on everyone’s nerves. You have never had a problem with them. They weren’t your friends, but you knew they usually meant no harm.

“Hey,” he said, a bit out of breath once he caught up. 

“Hi Ben,” you answered and started walking again.

“Can I walk with you for a minute?”

“Sure. Did you come up with more questions for your investigation?”

He kept quiet for a moment and you grinned while looking out over the lake, where the tiniest waves rustled in the wind.

“No,” he then said. “I mean, yes. I mean… Possibly.”

“What’s your deal, Ben?” you asked. “Not to be mean, but none of this is any of your business.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. But I just can’t wrap my head around this. It kind of keeps me up at night. Doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Well if it doesn’t sit right with you, then, of course, we’re going to listen to you and throw all plans out of the window.”

“Don’t be sarcastic now. It’s a serious thing.”

“Oh really? Thanks for reminding me. Still none of your concern. And even if it was. What doesn’t sit right?”

“Two things actually,” Ben answered. “Firstly, I still don’t believe that you’re doing this of your own free will. I think he’s forcing you to marry him. And secondly, with your two families combined, Tom and his relatives will be given a whole new level of respect. And power.”

“So?”

“So? Don’t act like you don’t know what the Gaunts are all about.”

Of course you knew. Everyone did. And Ben was probably right. But what should you do about it now?

“Look, Ben,” you sighed. “I’m thankful for your concern, really. But it wasn’t forced. Tom and I… We love each other. And I’m afraid you don’t know him or any of his relatives as well as you think. They’re not seeking power. Or anything of that sort.”

You’ve never lied to someone like this before. Twisted the truth a bit, yes. Kept some information secret, yes. But this was the greatest lie that ever left your mouth. And Ben knew.

“Alright,” he said slowly and raised his eyebrows. “The Gaunts are dangerous, whether you believe it or not. Who knows what they’re capable of when they get even more respected in the wizard community. I thought you weren’t like them, you know. But seems like you’re one and the same.”

You didn’t respond. Maybe you really were like them. But what did Benjamin ‘knight in shining armour’ Hilt know about your life? You had your reasons and you weren’t going to share them with him. Who did he think he was? 

“I see you don’t want my help,” he said. “Just know, you can always ask for it when you change your mind.”

Then he walked off. And it made you angry. Not that you had anything else to say. But the mere fact that he thought he knew better than everyone else turned your insides sour. So much that you wanted to scream. But he would have heard you. So you kept it down and walked for a little longer.

One and the same. Sure. Like one of the Gaunts would do anything remotely similar than what you had done for your sister. What an idiot. And even if you accepted his help. What would he be able to do for you? Nothing. One and the same. If people wanted to see you like that, they should. But then, they should be as afraid of you as they were of Tom.

You thought of Elsie and your parents. They had sent a letter some days ago. Finally. A reason to keep going. To keep the facade. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about quitting. Now that your sister was better, you had thought that there would be a way that would lead you out of the pact. But the letter reminded you that there wasn’t. And what you did it for. Who you did it for. You took it out of your pocket and read it again.

“Dearest daughter,

we are delighted to let you know Elsie is doing much better. The Gaunts were a tremendous help. Morfin brewed several potions and one of them seemed to be the cure. Her cough stopped immediately and she is on the mend. 

She is finally eating again, she even wanted to help the elves make lunch yesterday.

I think she also grew half an inch over the last week. 

It is an incredible joy to watch her laughing again. We wish you could see her now. 

And we want to let you know, again, how thankful we are for what you did. Without you, Merlin knows what would have happened. We are so proud of you.

However, Marvolo informed us that they haven’t broken the curse entirely.

He said if there will be any kind of breach or breaking of the pact, they can make Elsie sick again. And that it would be worse than before.

We hope you know what that means and what is expected of you. We wish we could take that burden from you.

All the best,

Mum and Dad”

There was a little red heart scribbled at the bottom right corner of the letter, that Elsie had drawn. It made you smile each time you saw it. It reminded you of the countless times you had sat with her in the garden and had watched her draw random figures and shapes. She would always get angry when your drawings came out better than hers. But she never gave up trying. And you couldn’t give up trying either.

The sun went down earlier each day now, so you went back to the castle once you had walked off the anger in your bones. 

Tom sat there in the courtyard. He was alone to your surprise. Even though he didn’t talk much, he was usually with at least two other people, who competed for his attention. But not today.

“Hello,” you said and he nodded. You sat down at the stone bench next to him. “What are you doing?”

He looked at you for a moment, then leant forward and gazed into the distance. “Thinking.”

“Me too.”

“Really?” he asked sarcastically.

“What do you mean?”

“It didn’t seem like you thought of much when you were walking with Hilt.”

“Ben? Did you see us? Hang on. Did you watch me?”

“Does it matter? I just happened to take a walk towards the lake. Then I saw you two.”

“Okay,” you said. “Well next time feel free to join in. Anything to keep him away. Ben really gets on my nerves you know.”

“Sure,” he said, still not looking at you.

“What’s the matter now?” you asked and smiled. “You’re not jealous of him, are you?”

Tom shot you a look that could have possibly killed you. Your smile disappeared instantly and the wind suddenly felt icy.

“Because there’s nothing to be jealous about,” you went on. “I don’t even like Ben.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he asked.

“What? No. I’m just trying-”

“Listen! If you’re going to be my wife, you must not give the impression of being unfaithful.”

“And being unfaithful means walking with anyone that isn’t you?”

“You know what it means.”

“So I’m not allowed to talk to friends?”

“I thought he wasn’t your friend.”

“He isn’t. This is not about Ben but in general.”

Tom stayed silent.

“You can’t be serious,” you said. “What do you expect me to do? Only ever speak to you, even if other people approach me? I didn’t even invite him. He just happened to be there all of a sudden.”

Tom turned towards you again and came uncomfortably close. 

“I. Don’t. Care. I expect you to be loyal.”

“I am,” you said but he stood up and left.

“Wait! You can’t just walk away.”

But he went. You ran after him, your frustration banging from inside your head against your temples. When you entered the hallways, quite a few people were around, some of them already looking at you. 

There he was, still walking away. You finally reached Tom and grabbed him by the shoulder, to make him look at you. He stopped abruptly and turned around, quicker than you had thought, so you almost bumped into him. A second of silence and staring occurred before you took a step back. Okay. Now was the time to get your point across.

“Listen,” you said quietly. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but I guarantee you that’s not what happened.”

“I know wh-”

“No, I said listen to me,” you interrupted him more vehemently and people’s heads turned your way, so you kept your voice low again. “Ben is not my friend. He came up to talk to me about us. I think he knows about the pact. And he wants to ruin everything. I’m not going to lose my sister because of him. So I tried to convince him. And if you think that’s being disloyal then so it be. I don’t care either. But never run away from me when I want to explain myself. And never distrust me again for no reason.”

That was the first time you witnessed Tom Riddle being speechless. So you left him standing there without another word. If people wanted to believe you were one and the same, you would make him believe it too.

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 | Masterpost | Masterlist

Please consider leaving a comment and tell me what you think so far :) They motivate me so much to keep writing!

Permanent tags: @geeksareunique @ren-ela​ @marauderskeeper​ @way-obsessed5​ @oreofrappiewithblueberry​ @draqcnheartstrinq​ @dogfatherpads​ @obscurilicious​ @maralisa124​ @theseuscmander​ @siriuslyimmoony​ @theboywhocriedlupin​ @igotmadskills​ @jamcspotters​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @vulpecula-minor​ @snarledblack​ @swellwriting​ @heartbeats-wildly​ @clockworkherondale​ @aikeia​ @i-padfootblack-things​ @emmamass24​ @sleep-i-ness​ @miss-theya​ 

Promised tags: @superblyspeedydragon @angeli-fucking-cat​ @and-drew-101​ @hp-slaps​ @prettylittlehiddles​ @katjusja​ @elderwilliams​ @-thatgirloverthere-​ @1950schick​

[imaginesupply]

Warm me up - Loki x Reader imagine

Alright, so after complaining that no one had yet written a Loki imagine that included cockwarming, I decided to write one myself. Be aware that it’s 2am in Paris, that I haven’t written anything in ages and that English is still not my main language, so please forgive any weird wordings or mistakes you might find in this. I did proofread it, but you know…

I also feel like I messed up Loki’s portrayal?

Includes: Jotun!Loki, mild cursing, mild smut, very minor angst, fluff and ugly pajamas.

Word count: About 2800.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waiting impatiently for the elevator to take her to the second highest floor, she clutched the pillow tighter to her chest, trying to stifle a yawn.

Tony had texted her as soon as they'd gotten back from some overly complex mission that wasn't even taking place in this realm - if she'd correctly understood while eavesdropping on the team, that is, given that Loki tried to keep her in the dark most of the time because apparently her life expectancy was already 'frighteningly short' and he refused to do anything that could potentially shorten it even more. There had also been a part about  him wanting to get his hands on one of those 'incredibly sneaky Idunn apples’ but she wasn’t sure what that meant.

Maybe he could try learning how to text, that would certainly make her live longer and a lot more stress free, she mused.

Right now, she was just overly excited to see him again for the first time in eight days. Tony had told her Loki was exhausted and had gone straight to bed upon their arrival. She couldn't help but find it a little bit odd - usually he'd go straight to her room five floors below when he came back from a mission, but she tried not to worry too much.

The elevator came to a halt and she was hurrying to his room before the doors had even fully slid open. Her feet slipped on the polished floor, her socks not allowing for much grip but she was sure it was worth the risk of a bruised bum if it meant she'd get to Loki a few seconds earlier.

"Hey fluffy socks!" Tony called after her when she passed him in the kitchen. She had hoped he hadn't seen her since he was staring into the open fridge but apparently Iron Man had eyes on his butt or something.

For a split second, she considered ignoring him but he was her boss after all, and a very generous one at that, allowing her to live in the tower.

"Yes?"

Now that he had her attention, he first drowned his full tumbler of Scotch before actually speaking to her. Couldn't he just say what he had to say?

"Are you going to see Loki?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. Was he seriously asking her that?! Why else would she would she be running in the hallway at 2 in the morning in her pajamas?

"Right, stupid question, sorry. Look, we ran into some unforeseen complications and Loki, well..."

"Was he injured?" She blurted out instantly, eyes wide with fear but to her relief, Tony quickly shook his head.

"Not really. There are no wounds but he had to use a lot of that weird seidr of his to get us out of there and now he - he is... feverish?"

She could hear it in her boss' voice that he was unsure of his own choice of words. A fever? But Loki was an alien God or a Frost Giant or whatever, surely he couldn't get a fever?

"Okay. Thanks for the heads up!" She replied way more cheerfully than she actually felt, hoping Tony wouldn’t stop her if she looked okay.

It was with a sense of dread that she now walked the rest of the way to Loki's room. Once at his door, she was surprised he hadn't locked it and - wait! Was that ice on the handle?

Pushing the door open, she let her pillow fall to the floor as she was met with an unexpected wave of cold that immediately had her chilled to the bones. What the hell? Whispering for FRIDAY to turn on the small night lamp, she was startled by the state she found his room in, but most importantly by what she found on the bed.

Loki was lying in bed, covers drawn up to his chin, only he wasn't in his Æsir form. "Shit!" She cursed in a whisper, stepping on the thin layer of ice that had formed on the floor until she got to his side.

His skin was a deep shade of blue but for the white intricate markings adorning it. Something was very wrong with him, she realized. His Jotun form didn't bother her. To be honest, she actually found him rather attractive like that in a weird alien sort of way. However, she knew Loki wasn't comfortable with that aspect of himself and he'd never revert to his Jotun shape unless he didn't have the strength to keep on his Æsir appearance.

Softly, she lowered her hand to his cheek only to hiss in pain as soon as her skin made contact with his. The tip of her finger had turned purple in the split second it had made contact with him. She had almost gotten frostbite just from touching him!

In a panic-induced rush, she hurried over to the control center on the charcoal painted wall and turned the heat to the highest setting. She knew he was colder in his Jotun form, but not that cold. She had touched him like this before, but she had found his lower temperature refreshing, causing her nothing more than a pleasant shiver.

The next step was the en-suite bathroom where she dropped some rags into the hottest water that would come out from the tab, and put some towels to warm up by the heater.

Humans were warm blooded but you had to cool them down when they had a fever. So, by analogy, Frost Giants being cold blooded, she had to warm him up, right?

In truth, she wasn't entirely convinced of her logic but it was the only solution she came up with. Quickly, she walked back into the bedroom, bending down at his side to place some hot rags on his forehead and around his hands.

"Loki?" She whispered worriedly when he didn't open his eyes, but his face remained unchanged, the small frown not leaving his features.

Carefully, she pulled back the covers only to notice he had managed to freeze his clothes solid. Not waiting another moment, she started undressing him which was easier said than done because one, he was still wearing his battle gear; two, although his clothes weren't as cold as his skin, touching them was still painful like holding a frozen snowball in her naked hands and three, he was a lot heavier than you'd expect from his lean body.

With clenched teeth, she managed to get rid of the layers on the top half of his body until she was met with his naked blue torso before unzipping his leather pants and pulling them down with his underwear.

Oh - oh! Well, that's certainly interesting, she couldn't help but lose focus for a second as she saw his Jotun body naked for the first time. I'll definitely keep that in mind next time things are getting frisky and he isn't quite literally freezing to death in front of me. With another hard pull - that drove her backwards with such force, it was a wonder her butt didn't collide with the floor - she managed to get him out of the rest of his frozen clothes.Now, I know why he always uses seidr to undress. Leather is pain to take off!

"Love... is that you?"

Tears of relief slid down her face almost instantly at the sound of his voice. "Yes!" She pretty much shouted before tiptoeing around the bed until she was right at his side. "Yes , Loki, it's me. How do you-?"

"You need to leave," he grunted between clenched teeth, trying to pull himself upright by the strength of his arms but not quite succeeding. "Now!"

She could tell his was trying hard to keep his crimson eyes open as he glared at her, as if hoping it would scare her away.

"I'm not leaving until you feel better," she crooned softly, hesitantly lowering her hand to caress his cheek. It was still way too cold but there was no longer a risk of getting frostbite.

Without a warning, Loki tried swatting her hand away, but his hand movement was much less grateful than habitually. He was actually shivering, she realized.

Resigned after lacking the strength to pry her hand away by force, he closed his eyes tightly, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. "I don't want you to see me like this. So, will you please leave alone or do I have to make you leave?"

He had meant to draw her away by hurting her feelings, but she could see right through him - masking vulnerability with anger. In a sense, he did manage to hurt her feelings as her heart now broke for him. Was he so unused to people actually caring and looking after him?

"If I leave, I'll have to send someone else in to take care of you. It's your call, Loki." His red eyes opened wide at her threat and he immediately shook his head. "See? That wasn't too hard. Now, one more time, how do you feel?"

Loki groaned, obviously uncomfortable by the whole situation. "To use your midgardian slang, I feel like I've been hit by a bus."

She rolled her eyes at him, something she never dared to do when he was in his normal capacity because the only time she had dared to, he had responded by using his seidr to tickle her to tears. "I'm serious."

"Fine! I feel as if my body has been frozen from the inside."

Now that Loki was actually cooperating, she felt like they were getting somewhere. First, she made him drink a full glass of water and asked him if he was hungry but he only rolled his eyes at that. He's still Loki, after all.

The towels she had put over the radiator were now warm enough to drape over his body. Not waiting for his approval because knowing him, he'd play difficult, she pulled back the covers once again so she could wrap the homemade heating pad around his body.

He stared at her, brows furrowed in confusion, as she lifted, first his right shoulder, then his left one, to tuck the towel beneath them. How was she not disgusted by him, he couldn't help but wonder. Not only was he weak right now, but he looked like those monsters children were afraid of. And yet, he couldn't help the sense of warmth that washed over him at knowing that she accepted him whatever his heritage. That was more than he could say about his own father.

She continued with her task, trying to build a warm cocoon around him but she couldn't help herself from tracing some of the intricate silvery markings with her fingertips. A few lines ran from his chest down to his stomach, others only started at the level of his belly button and had more a twirl to them, leading straight to his -

"Oh, someone is happy, it seems," she chuckled when she noticed his erection standing proudly despite the cold. It actually appeared to be a deeper shade of blue than the rest of him, with a slightly upward curve.

Instead of seeming pointlessly embarrassed by his body's natural reaction, especially given the lack of disgust she had expressed, Loki actually looked rather smug. "Well, someone's is being rather handsy."

She huffed, somehow feeling herself blush as she looked at him. "Well, someone has been trying to help someone else warm up."

"Well, someone knows of other ways you can help someone warm up." Loki used the second that it took her to get his innuendo, to take her by surprise and pull her closer him, until she was pretty much straddling his body.

And then he kissed her. A gasp escaped her as his cold lips made contact with the sensitive skin of hers. It was almost like kissing an ice cube... but an ice cube that tasted of Loki, of mischief, of home. Only when his tongue prodded for entrance, did she realize what they were doing.

Pulling back a little to break the kiss that had her lightly panting as she carefully pushed his shoulders down into the pillow, she was quite certain he let out a little frustrated whine. "We should not be doing this," she admonished them both before sitting back on her butt, accidentally causing some very pleasant friction that had the, both moaning at the sensation. She had to bite her lower lip to keep her resolve, "right now, you are in no state for such activities."

Instead of coming up with a lokiworthy line, she watched as his face took on a focused look before turning into a frown. Was he seriously trying to seidr her clothes away right now?

"That's exactly my point," she couldn't stop her giggle as she bent forward to kiss the tip of his nose. She had always wanted to that but he was too tall and always too fast, managing to turn his face away from her and kissing her cheek instead. A girl has to take the chances that presented themselves to her.

"But I want to be inside of you, to feel your tight warmth around me," Loki drawled, softly thrusting up his hips to prove his point.

She actually whimpered at the contact - needy Loki did things to her, it seemed. Wetting her lips before nodding once, she quickly stepped away from him.

Loki followed her movements with his eyes, the disappointed look in his eyes rapidly turning to excitement when he realized she had only stepped away to discard those ridiculous cat-print pajamas of hers. Despite the radiators being at their highest capacity, her nipples pebbled almost painfully as she resumed her position above him, the chill that emanated from his body still quite noticeable.

Both let out little sounds of pleasure as the friction was now stronger without any fabric acting as a barrier between their bodies. She couldn't help but to grind her hips against his before leaning down to kiss him.

There was a power surge suddenly rising up in her when she realized that - for the first time - Loki was at her mercy. Usually, when she was on top, it was because he let her be on top. And even then, it was him who set the pace.

From his reactions when she traced them with her fingers, she gathered that the silvery lines adorning his skin were particularly sensitive. They also stood out a little, almost like scarifications and the best was that they down there as well. Alright, let's not get ourselves carried away, her inner voice reminded her.

When she slid her hand between their bodies to guide himself inside her warmth, she had to stop herself from grinning at the look on his face - like a Frost Giant boy who had just spotted a bag of candies. If they had candy in Jotunheim, she actually didn't know.

Loki groaned, throwing his head back and exposing his long blue neck to her as she impaled herself on his cock. It was quite a stretch, even more so than in his Æsir form and she felt incredibly full with him inside, the ridges only adding to that sensation. Focus, girl!

At her stillness, Loki impatiently thrust his hips upwards but she was quick to press his body down against the mattress. He looked up at her, confusion written across his face even as his grip tightened on her hips. Surely, she wouldn't do that to him, would she?

She smirked at his reaction even though she wanted this wanted this as much as him. "You only asked to feel my warmth around you," she explained coyly.

His crimson turned a shade darker. "You are a very reasonable person, love, surely you cannot expect me -"

"Shh," she hushed him with her index finger to his lips. "If you are too weak to overpower me, you are too weak for sexy times. For now, I'm going to warm you up. Afterwards, you can do whatever you want with me," she promised just as she felt him twitch inside her. Focus!

Without waiting for his response, she lowered herself until the upper half of her body was lying over his torso and she was cuddled against him.

His muscles gradually relaxed as he came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be able to convince her. Sighing, he nuzzled his nose into her hair. Gosh, she smelled of whatever Valhalla was made of! And if he was honest with himself, being like this was rather comforting, the ability of feeling her everywhere somehow making him forget that a whole world existed beyond the cocoon of her body.

"Fine," he complained a little theatrically, "but I'll hold you to your word."

Within minutes, both were soundly asleep. Not only was it the early hours of the morning, but he had exerted himself more during the mission than he wanted to admit and she never got much sleep when he was away.

Hours later, she found herself being woken up by a rhythmic rocking movement that she would gladly have compared to a calm boat ride if there was the biggest storm in the century and the boat was ramming into her.

With a gasp caused by sudden pleasure, she opened her eyes to find Loki thrusting into her with a mischievous smirk. "It seems your technique got me warmed up in no time, love."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let me know what you guys think!

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Camila//this is our place, we make the rules

Request: Camila mendes x reader where they get Madeleine (readers sister) with Vanessa mad they have a double movie date at their house and when r and mads fall asleep V and cami talk about how much they really fell for them

hey! i hope you like this! its gay, fun and fluffy!! also, i don’t know if anybody knows but i l o v e taylor swift, so a good portion of requests will be named after lyrics from her songs, sorry, i don’t make the rules. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this one is from ‘lover’ by the way (i was heavily influenced by the song and i was feeling soft). anyway, have a good day/night! stay safe, be gay! 

The universe works in mysterious ways. Everyone knows that, its like the universes’s thing. Some people are funny, some people are smart, and some people like to control life every aspect of life in weird ways. When they are actually people, they’re sociopaths, but when its all of space and time, its just one of its cute little quirks. 

People can be connected by something as small as a name, but it can lead to something so big. An invisible tether connecting you to these people, and its something that you don’t even know about until years later when you’re talking about that funny story from ages ago and the other person is like ‘oh, i used to go there all the time’ or ‘how weird, my aunt lives right around the corner of your childhood home and we never met once’. 

And it doesn’t have to be that type of connection. A serious of fortunate (or unfortunate) events can lead you to a whole load of new people. You could walk into the wrong classroom in a new school and meet your best friend, or find a new coffee shop after your usual is closed for the day and meet the love of your life. 

There’s so many ways that you can be connected to people, you never know when you’re going to meet a friend, and enemy, or something more. 

Its both magical and terrifying at the same time. A story waiting to be told, you just have to stand on the right butterfly or tempt just the right amount of fate. 

For you and your sister, Madelaine, you both did exactly that. And thankfully the universe seemed to be on your side. 

One day, she gets a job on the CW’s newest show, and then a few years later, both of you end up with girlfriends from the same show. And while you and Camila may have been fast to get together (within a few months of actually meeting), it took a little longer (and a lot of sisterly teasing) to get Madelaine to admit that she was head over heels for her on-screen girlfriend. 

It was a long and sometimes tedious road for all four of you. Madelaine complaining to you, Vanessa complaining to Camila and then the two of you complaining to each other. You eventually locked them in a room together, something you haven’t done since you were a teenager, and they thankfully got together. 

While Madelaine and Vanessa were playing ‘will they, won’t they?’, you had your own things going on. You and Camila had finally made the step to move in together. And after months of searching for the right house (and one that you could afford), you finally found it. A cute little place tucked into a side street of LA. 

“I think thats everything.” You smile and look around the large living room. Its been a long few months. But they’ve been fun though. When you were younger, you never thought you would actually be here, buying a home with a girl you loved more than anything and who loved you back. 

You and Madelaine would spend hours talking about how you would decorate your own houses. They would be right next door to each other (much to her dismay), with a gate in the back garden so you could come and see each other anytime (again...dismay). Your house would be bright, filled with things you’d collected over the years, flowers and plants would decorate every room, pictures on every wall, and right in the centre, you...with her. 

At the time you had no idea who she was. You just knew she would be there. You would be happy and in love and you wouldn’t care who knew. You wouldn’t be scared, or try to hide. You’d just be you, she’d be her, and the two of you would be together. 

And thats exactly what you got. Funnily enough though, when you think back you’re pretty sure whoever she was, kinda looked a bit like Camila. 

Madelaine’s house is a little different from how she planned when she was 13. Yes, she had the large house and the dogs. But instead of the man, she got the woman instead (much better in your opinion). Which is something it took her a while to get her head around. 

She watched you grow up, figure yourself out and then come out to the world. She saw your struggles and your victories. She wiped your tears when someone was mean, and laughed with you at your first pride together. 

She watched as Camila went through the same struggle after meeting you. She listened to her while she went through every possible scenario that could happen if people found out.

And she watched Vanessa play this badass bisexual on screen, but struggle with the possibility of liking girls behind closed doors. 

Three of her favourite women in all the world, all going through the same experiences. Having the same fears. And then she did the same. Thankfully, all four of you came out the other end stronger and a lot happier. 

You and Camila got together five months after the first time meeting and that was almost three years ago. Madelaine finally admitted how much she really liked Vanessa, due to the looming threat of you telling her yourself if she didn’t, and today marks their six month anniversary. 

That, mixed with your new home is the reason all four of you are hanging out tonight. Its a double movie date, that will definitely end in all of you falling asleep in the living room, slightly drunk. 

“No more boxes?” Camila asks and wraps an arm around your waist. You lean into her touch, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. 

“I think so. I think we’ve officially unpacked everything.” You grin and her expression mirrors yours. She stares at your for a few seconds, just taking everything in, before letting out a content sigh. 

“So we’ve officially moved in?” 

“Yep...we’re home owners.” You press a soft kiss to her lips and the world blurs around you for a few seconds. Thats until the doorbell rings and you have to reluctantly pull yourself away from her. 

“If I’m to go into crippling debt with anybody, its always going to be.” She says sweetly and you giggle before opening the door. 

“Y/N!!” Madelaine shouts and hugs you tightly. You groan, but it just makes her grip tighten as you struggle against her. 

“Hi V.” Camila appears behind you, completely ignoring you and Madelaine, she learnt the day she met you, don’t get in the middle of a Petsch argument...it won’t end well. 

So she starts talking to Vanessa, the two of them having a small catch up, while you struggle away from Madelaine. You huff loudly and straighten your clothes out while she sends you a sarcastic smile. 

“I feel like we haven’t seen each other in weeks.” She says, pushing past you and into the living room. Vanessa passes you, whispering a ‘sorry’ as she follows her girlfriend. 

“Thats not accidental.” You send her a sweet smile and she rolls her eyes at you. 

“Here.” Vanessa interrupts and hands you a small gift bag. “Its a housewarming gift.” 

“Aww.” Camila makes her way over to where you’re stood and the two of you quickly open the bag, revealing a picture of the two of you from the first day you met. You’re stood next to each other, shy smiles and soft blushes barely noticeable to anybody else. But you see them and they make you smile brightly at each other. 

“Thank you.” Camila says and the four of you hug. 

“So.” Madelaine is the first to pull away, now looking around. “My baby sister actually has her own house. Have you drawn all over the walls yet.” She teases and you shove her. 

“Everybody knows it was you that drew on the walls and then you would blame me.” 

“And mom and dad still believe me!” She smiles triumphantly. 

“Yet, I’m still the favourite.” 

“Who knows why, I was definitely the cutest.” She argues. 

“You keep telling yourself that...potato face.” You reply and she sends you a scowl in return. 

“At least I didn’t look like a ham when I was a baby.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and she looks exactly the same as she did when you would steal her toys. 

“At least I don’t look like a ham now.” You retort and she gasps, offended. You send her a small smile, happy that you’ve won this round and she continues to glare at you. 

“Aw, its just so nice watching how they love each other isn’t it?” Camila whispers to Vanessa and she stifles a laugh as the two of them watch you insult each other. 

“Tell me about it.” She groans. 

“Do you want a drink?” She asks, motioning to the kitchen. Vanessa looks at the two of you, now actually physically fighting before taking a deep breath and turning back to Camila. 

“...please.” 

----

“Mads! When you’re finished snooping, the movie’s about to start!” You shout into the kitchen. 

You and Cami are cuddled together on one of the sofa’s, while Vanessa waits for Madelaine to come back with the snacks on the other. The empty take out cartons are scattered on the coffee table, and the three of you wait in anticipation for whatever Madelaine brings back, all of you chatting about work. 

“Please tell me someone other than you has chosen it.” Madelaine asks as she walks in. Her hands full of food and drinks and Vanessa quickly stands to help carry them. 

“Cami chose it.” You reply and smile at your girlfriend, reaching out to hold her hand and she gives it a light squeeze, the two of you momentarily forgetting that you have company. You’ve both been dreaming of this night for months, the first proper night in your finished home and now its here you can’t quite believe it. 

“Oh, thank god. You have an atrocious taste in films.” Madelaine says and you’re moment is gone. Your soft expression reserved only for Cami, has now turned into a scowl as you stare at you sister. 

“Well, I watch everything with you in so maybe thats more on you than me.” You say casually and a grin takes over her appearance as she sits down beside Vanessa. 

“Aw, you watch the movies I’m in?” 

“Yeah, the very few that there is.” You snide and she looks at you offended. 

“How many movies are you in?” 

“How many CW shows that are well written are you in?” You reply and its followed by a chorus of offended ‘heys!’ 

“Sorry babe, and V.” 

“And?” Madelaine asks impatiently. You look at her confused for a few seconds before she tuts and looks at the tv. “Why couldn’t mom and dad have just gotten a dog?” She mutters making Vanessa laugh softly. 

“I’m sure they thought the same thing when they found out about you.” You reply. “A dog would certainly have been a lot cuter, and well behaved...and maybe a little more talented to-OW!” 

You’re interrupted by a cushion smacking you square in the face, followed by loud laughter from Madelaine and Vanessa. Cami stifles a laugh beside you and you pout at her for a few seconds. 

“Its a good job you’re cute.” You mumble and cross your arms over your chest, still pouting at Cami and she presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. You reach for the cushion thats fallen on the floor, but before you can throw it at a now distracted Madelaine, Cami grabs it from you and throws it gently to V who puts it back. 

“Don’t even think about it. Those pillows are new.” She scolds. 

“Is everyone ready?” Vanessa asks and you all hum in reply. 

“Wait!” Madelaine shouts. 

“Play the damn movie V.” You say before she has the chance to say anything else. 

“Happily.” She laughs while Madelaine pouts beside her.

Silence settles over the room as the opening titles start. You and Cami cuddle even closer than before and a content sigh slips past your lips. She presses a soft kiss to your forehead while her fingers draw lazy patterns on an exposed part of your arm. 

“Can we always be this close?” She whispers and a blush settles on your cheeks. 

“Forever.” 

“Get a room!” Madelaine groans and Cami throws a pillow at her. 

“I didn’t think it was possible for me to love you more but I do.” You grin and kiss her quickly while Madelaine complains. 

“I thought these were new.” She mocks and the two of you roll your eyes. 

“They are, but this is our house so we make the rules.” 

“And our first rule is for you to shut up.” 

“Thats not a rule, thats an order.” She grumbles to herself and Vanessa pats her shoulder sympathetically. 

“Its okay babe. When we get a house together our first rule can be that they’re not allowed inside.” She mumbles making a small smile appear on her lips. 

----

“Cami.” Vanessa whispers, stretching to kick her gently. She pulls her gaze away from the tv, now nearing the end of the movie, to look at her friend. Vanessa doesn’t say anything, just gestures to Madelaine and then over to you, both of you fast asleep and curled up in exactly the same positions. 

“As much as they annoy the hell out of each, they are literally exact the same.” She laughs as the two of you snore softly. 

“Does Y/n refuse to believe she snores too.” 

“God yes.” Cami snorts a laugh and the two of you stir slightly. Vanessa and Cami continue to laugh as quietly as possible at the two of you, your snoring seemingly getting louder with each breath and it sounds like the two of you are competing with each other. 

“The first time Mads stayed the night, I thought someone was doing road works outside.” Vanessa whispers making Cami wheeze with laughter. 

“Stop it.” She waves an arm around while holding her stomach with the other one. “I’m gonna pee.” 

“Don’t get me started on the peeing. I swear she gets up about three times a night to go. And she turns-” 

“Every single light on!” Camila adds and the two of them laugh loudly again. 

“Yes!” 

“I wake up at 2am thinking its early afternoon because its that bright.” 

“We really fell for them though didn’t we?” Vanessa asks, her tone a lot softer as she glances at her sleeping girlfriend. 

“Yeah...I suppose we did.” Camila replies, brushing a piece of hair from your face. 

“Life works in weird ways doesn’t it?” 

“Definitely.” She nods. “If you’d have told me four years that I’d be a homeowner at 26 with my girlfriend of three years...I honestly would have cried.” She admits making Vanessa frown. “Not for that reason...obviously.” She glances at you. “Its just, I never thought I could be this happy with somebody. But I am. I’m so, unbelievably happy that sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.” 

“If she was awake I don’t know if she would say ‘aw’ or ‘ew’.” Vanessa laughs. 

“Probably a mix of both.” 

“I forgot to ask earlier.” Vanessa starts and Cami reluctantly pulls her gaze away from you. “Does this place feel like a home yet?” 

“Anywhere with her is my home.” 

[purplebass]

Belong // Wessa

Hi! I’ve written this fic a while ago, but I don’t know why I haven’t posted yet. I had the idea when I read about Will’s parents passing in Chain of Gold, and this is a sort of a * missing moment * type of fic about that. It’s set during the TLH timeline. Hope you enjoy, although I’m really insecure about this because this fic is also very personal since I’ve tried to write the trauma from experience. Thanks to whoever is going to read it. 💜

Couple/Characters: Wessa, Will Herondale and Tessa Gray Rating: T Tw: Mentions of death Genre: Hurt/Comfort

You’re never prepared when your parents die. As much as you imagine that day in random moments of your life, and tell yourself that you shouldn’t let it drag into the depressing imagination until it happens, it isn’t as close as the real thing. No, you’re never prepared when reality hits you right in the chest, in the place you kept the people you loved the most.

Tessa lost her parents when she was little, but she didn’t feel the weight of their loss for the majority of her life. She had a poor recollection of her memories with her parents. Sometimes it felt like they never existed in the first place, that she was, after all, an orphan. She started realizing that she missed her father and her mother on the day she got married. How nice it would have been if her mother had been there to help her with the dress or the hair, and how symbolic to have her father accompany her down the aisle. Yet, those were just dreams, fragments of her imagination, thoughts that she had had sometimes, but not often. Truth be told, she didn’t know how it felt to lose one’s parents, but she would soon witness it.

That morning, Tessa and Will received a letter. They had just returned from a walk around Idris, and they were tired. Her feet hurt and she wanted to spend a couple of hours sitting on the sofa of the drawing room to read, or just rest. She always said that words had the power to change us, and how much of that statement was true.

She and Will had just entered their bedroom at Herondale Manor when one of the servants brought them the fateful message. She didn’t inquire as who had sent it and went to remove her hat as her husband read its contents. When she turned to ask him something, she grew concerned. He was staring at the piece of paper with a blank expression, devoid of brightness, of color. If expressions could talk with actual words, his face spelt dead.

“What is it?” she asked, tense, hurrying to him. She noticed his hands trembled, and he was pale, ghostly. Her own heart started pounding in her chest because of worry.

He didn’t reply instantly, which didn’t diminish her distress, but when he did, his voice was low and broken. No, it was shattered, like the sound of glass when it breaks and you stomp on it.

“They’re dead. My parents are dead, Tessa.”

When he glanced at her, her own heart collapsed for him. She could already see the tears pooling in his eyes, his fight against himself not to break down. The fight to be strong. But he lost the battle, and soon, he couldn’t keep the tears at bay anymore.

Her husband started to weep in silence against her shoulder. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him cry. He had cried several times in the past, like when James and Lucie were born. She had moved to tears as well and they had sobbed together as they held their children. But that was another type of break down. It reminded Tessa of when they were looking for something to save Jem from his fate and they went to Magnus, but he didn’t know what to do either, and Will felt hopeless and had moved to tears.

Now death was again the cause of his despair.

She helped him on the small velvet chair in front of their bed and sat down. She didn’t know what to say, she knew that anything she would tell him would be useless. She adjusted his head on her shoulder and passed her hands though his dark hair. She wanted to soothe him, to make him feel safe and loved and comforted. He hugged her and buried his head on her chest, trying to be as soundless as possible, as Tessa cradled his body as if he was a child. He let himself be cherished by her, and she could feel the strong grip of his hands on her back as she told him it was okay as she cried with him. Everything would be okay.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she was able to move him to the drawing room. She had sent a message to Jem, hoping he could make it so Will could recuperate. In the meantime, her husband decided that he was fine sitting on the carpet in front of the fire, his gaze fixed on the vacant, dark hearth which was empty as much as his stare.

She told him she needed to go back to their room for a moment and then she would get back to him. He simply nodded, managed a forced smile before she left, and didn’t utter a word. She was about to go downstairs when Lucie and James came to look for her. They weren’t home when they returned, because they went to their cousin’s house. They would have to know about this as well. Tessa sighed. “Lucie, James. Did you have a good time?”

“Yes, I had a lot of fun! Our cousin Christopher likes to blow things up,” Lucie said cheerfully.

“I told him he should be careful,” James added.

“I’m glad,” she replied. At least their children were happy.

They went closer to her, their expression suddenly turning serious. “Mama, has something happened? Because we went to say hi to papa and he was sitting in front of the fire with his face in his hands… and he was… crying, I think.”

“He was definitely crying, James,” Lucie commented. “Why was he crying, mama? Did you argue?”

Tessa smiled at her children’s questions. They were smart and they knew that Will never cried – at least not in front of them. “No, Lucie. We didn’t argue. But something happened, and I think you should know.”

“What is it, mama?”

“We’ve just been told that your grandpa Edmund and your grandma Linette have passed away.”

“That’s why aunt Cecily was also crying,” James admitted. “It makes me sad. I loved them.”

“Me too,” Lucie chimed in. “I’m sad that we won’t see them anymore.”

“Yes, it’s depressing,” Tessa agreed, seeing James and Lucie on the point of tears. “But we shouldn’t forget that the people we love will always be with us, in our memories. It’s true we won’t be able to see them again, but they will live in our recollection of them. Don’t you agree?” she wondered, trying to say the best thing she could think of.

“It’s true, mama,” Lucie nodded. “But now… what should we do? Should we say something to papa?”

“If you want, do it. I’m sure he’ll feel better,” Tessa agreed. Sometimes these small gestures of her children made her feel proud and want to move to tears at the same time.

“But I don’t know what to say,” James argued, lost in his thoughts. “What do you say in these occasions?”

“You tell him you love him and you give him a hug, brother,” Lucie replied fiercely.

“Good idea,” their mother nodded. “Go.”

Right after they left the bedroom, Tessa broke down in tears again.

***

Lucie and James did what they planned to do. She caught the moment right on time, and it filled her heart with joy to know how close they all were, the four of them. How Lucie and James adored their father and how they covered him with affection, always smiling at his silly jokes, and how he protected them although they were already 12 and 13 and able to look out for themselves. What Tessa saw before her eyes in that moment were two children not yet teenagers who sat down on the carpet next to their father and circled him with their innocent arms and told them they loved him. They were sad but they were there for him.

The light in their bedroom was off when she got back, and at first Tessa thought Will was already asleep. Jem had left an hour before and now it was just them. She and Jem tried to comfort him earlier, but the wound was too fresh and she was aware that he would need a couple of days in order to be relieved a bit from the pain, although she knew he would never be completely healed. He treasured his parents, and he probably wished they would have had a longer life.

Tessa took off her clothes and wore her nightgown, then slipped under the covers next to him. He lied on his side, opposite her, facing the window which overlooked Brocelind forest. She saw his back. He looked tense. Then he turned towards her. She couldn't see his eyes in the darkness, but she knew that they were deep pools of blue darkened by his current mood, and red rimmed because of the tears.

She was wrong if she thought he had finally surrendered himself to sleep after he hadn’t eaten anything at dinner, and after the whole day spent in front of the unlit fireplace with unfocused eyes. He leaned closer to her and she opened her arms so that she could embrace him as he put his head on her chest. He took one of her hands in his, and held it tight like a life line.

“Tess,” he murmured.

“Yes, Will?”

“Do you believe is there a paradise or a hell out there?”

“I honestly never thought about that,” she replied softly. If she had to be honest, she had never thought about that because she was young and she was… immortal. “Why?”

“There may be a heaven, maybe,” he told her, ignoring her question. “We are angels after all.”

“You’re right, we are,” she conceded as she passed her hand through his hair, even if she could say she was also partially drawn to hell because of her heritage, but she didn’t say it.

“I could stay with them for a long time in spite of everything,” he murmured to her some moments later. “They could meet you and Lucie and James. I would have probably died if we weren’t able to see each other anymore. At least they knew… at least they knew how much I loved them. How much I love you and the kids. They were ecstatic to meet you. They were ecstatic to meet James and Lucie. At least they saw the man I’ve become, and that I turned out well despite I was forced to leave them when I was still I child. I was Lucie’s age when I left them. I still… think about how painful all of that was for me. One time my father told me that he was proud of me. Proud that I made it. That I was happy and content and had people around me who loved me deeply.”

“And he was right,” Tessa agreed and stroked his cheek, noticing it was wet with fresh tears. “They were proud and they had every reason to be. You are the proof that everyone can turn their life if they want to, that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and that if we want, we can reach that light and embrace it.”

“My wife is always right,” he agreed, squeezing the side of her body with his hand.

“That’s why I married you,” she admitted, glancing at him. She could only see his forehead, but she knew he was probably trying to look at her as well.

“Because I always recognize your good sense?”

“No, silly,” she chastised him. “Even though you have to admit I’m often right and that I’m the only one who can calm you down when you’re dramatic, but this wasn’t the point. Anyway, I married you because you have a pure soul, Will. You are caring, you are sweet, you are protective. You are wise and loyal. You are transparent. And this, my dear, they also knew.”

He stayed silent for what looked like an eternity, the only sounds in the room were their breathing and the rise and fall of their chests. Will still gripped her hand and played with her fingers carelessly, as if it was an anxious habit and he couldn’t stop it. As long as he was distracted, he could play with her hand as long as he wanted.

It was going to be okay.

[cake-in-a-tin]

Secret Santa

This is my secret santa post for @siriuslyjames, i havent interacted with you loads but you seem lovely. have an amazing christmas if you celebrate it, and if you dont i hope you’re having a wonderful holiday :)

Lily Evans and James Potter lay side by side in the flower filled meadow behind the former’s house, underneath an ancient oak tree. It was a tradition of theirs - every year on the 31st of August they would lie together, heads buried among the flowers and grass, staring up at the oranges and pinks of the clouds in the setting sunlight. Lily couldn't believe this would be their last year at Hogwarts, and tried desperately to ignore the nagging impulse to turn and look at James instead of the clouds. 

***

So much had changed since their first meeting, which she still remembered vividly; as if it had happened yesterday. She had sat among the flowers, underneath the old oak in the middle of the field, her back against the mossy, rough trunk, desperately trying to stay in the shade, and holding a small daisy bud in her hand. It was the beginning of the summer holidays, she had endless days of nothing stretched out before her. Focusing as hard as possible on the small bud in her hand, she squinted her eyes in the way she had taught herself, and slowly but surely the small flower bloomed before her very eyes. She loved this adrenaline rush of sensing every small rustle of the leaves from the tree above, feeling the life of the daisy in her hand, and the grasses and other flowers around her. Shutting her eyes, she leaned back against the tree, breathing deeply, and gradually fell into a light sleep, when suddenly from nowhere she heard someone say, “Hello there!” 

Lily had blinked her eyes open, startled, and looked around to see who it was. Surely not Petunia, or one of her annoying little friends. He was sitting a little way away, straight in front of her. She was mightily confused, why hadn’t she heard him approach? She hadn’t been that deeply asleep. She was brought back to the present by the odd boy saying, “I’m James. James Potter. What’s your name?” She coughed slightly, still in a state of bewilderment, and said abruptly,

“Lily Evans.”

“Well, it’s good to meet you Lily. I just moved in around here, that’s why you haven't seen me before. I was exploring and I saw you sitting there. I saw what you did with that flower. I can do stuff like that as well you know. It's so cool! My dad taught me and so did my mum. Which one of your parents taught you then?” Lily sat in silence, feeling stupid that she had nothing to say. She was surprised that someone could have all of those thoughts and say so much in such a short period of time. 

“Neither of them taught me. I can just do it, my mind just knows.”

“...Huh.” It seemed that the boy, James, was speechless for the first time since she had met him. She took this opportunity to look at him, for the first time. He was quite tall, and she reckoned he was around her age. His hair was a dark brown, and very messy, as though on his “exploration” he had been dragged through at least two hedges backwards. She considered whether she could ask him if that was the case, but decided against it. He had gold rimmed round glasses that were slightly squinted on his face, and his hazel eyes had a mischievous glint to them.

“Wait- so are your parents muggles?” Lily was taken aback - was this strange boy now insulting her parents, after interrupting her one peaceful moment? 

“I’m sorry?”

“Uh, non-magical people.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” James’ eyes were wide.

“You don’t know about anything? Oh gosh, okay so… People like you and me, who can make stuff like that happen, like what you did with the daisy, they’re witches and wizards, magical people. People who can't, they’re muggles. The witches and wizards have a whole hidden world, and they’re all around the muggles, but they don't see anything.” Lily was in shock - who was this boy?

“Why are you telling me this? I don’t believe you. Why should I believe you?” She narrowed her eyes at him, skeptically.

“You’re telling me you’ve never seen something that your family didn’t or made something happen that is not explainable?” Lily thought back to when she’d seen a shop with bottles of weird substances and frogs in bowls, and cages of owls, but when she had pointed it out to Petunia and her parents they had simply looked at her in confusion, and brushed her off. Or the time she had jumped off the swing in her back garden and stayed in the air a little longer than what someone might consider “normal”.

“Well, maybe. But that doesn’t mean it's magic… Does it?” shaking her head in disbelief, Lily leaned her head against the tree trying to process the information, and contemplated James. She wasn’t quite sure whether to trust him or not. He seemed relatively pleasant, in a way she couldn't quite explain. His presence made her want to smile, and she was hooked on his words. But- that was just because he was saying such outrageous things wasn't it?

The two sat talking in that meadow until the crickets were buzzing around them and the light was almost gone. A small figure at the edge of Lily’s vision got steadily larger and larger until her sister was directly in front of her. “Lily! Mummy says you should have been home an hour ago!” Petunia was using the sing-song voice that she knew Lily couldn’t stand.

“I know Tuni, but i was just talking to- “ Lily looked beside her to where James had been sitting just seconds before, and he was gone. “Nevermind.”

She hauled herself up, her legs stiff from sitting in the same position for too long. She peered around, in the fading light, and saw a figure disappearing under a hedge at the edge of the meadow. So he had been dragged through a hedge backwards. Smiling, and shaking her head she followed Petunia back to her house, where she apologised to her parents about seven times before they let her go to her room to sleep. As she lay in the dark she contemplated all the day’s events. Was what James had been saying true? Was she really a witch? She didn’t know, but half of her hoped it was true, because the world the odd boy who came from nowhere was describing seemed incredible and free, and she so desperately wanted to explore it with him.

***

Over the next month, everyday Lily would go to the meadow and wait under the tree, and every day James would crawl under his hedge and run over to her, waving his arms like a madman. She would tease him, and they’d laugh, then spend the day talking, James telling Lily more about the curious new wizarding world, or Lily regaling him with tales of muggle behaviour or exploring the woodland, or racing to open the flower buds (Lily was better at this than James) and climb trees (James was better at this than Lily). They seemed to get along amazingly, and soon James was a better friend to Lily than anyone she’d ever known. When they had both gotten their letters from Hogwarts their families went to Diagon Alley together, and James dragged Lily in and out of all the shops, showing her the newest broomstick, and the best sweets to buy. 

On the 31st of August they had lain in the meadow, and Lily had voiced her fear, the one she had been mulling over in her mind for the past couple of weeks. “James?”

“Mm?” 

“What if nobody at Hogwarts likes me?” James propped himself up on one elbow and turned to look at her, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, I don't have magical parents, so i don't know about all the things that everyone else does. What if they think I’m not good enough, and I have no friends?” James shook his head.

“That stuff doesn’t matter. You’ve already seen you’re better than me at most of it, and everyone is starting from scratch.” He looked more serious for a second. “Even if it did matter, I’d still be your friend, so you needn’t worry.” “You promise you won't forget me?” James sat up and held up his hand.

“I swear on my life I won’t forget you Lily Evans.” She giggled and sat up as well holding her hand high.

“And I won't forget you James Potter.” He flopped back onto the ground.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about being lonely then - we have each other, always.” Lily smiled, and closed her eyes, the cool end of summer breeze ticking her face and the sound of the grass blowing soothed her ears.

***

Over the next years Lily and James kept their promise. Every other evening they would sit together in the common room or the library, talking, doing homework, just enjoying one another’s company. And every August on the 31st both of them would lie in the same meadow where they met, sometimes in silence watching the sunset, or talking quietly about the year to come.  And, along with becoming very close friends, Lily sometimes suspected it could be something more. At the end of fifth year their teasing and joking had really hit a peak, and along with it came the joke”” flirting. Well, it had been joking at first. Then Lily started to realise that she might like James as more than a friend. 

She had tried to suppress those feelings as much as she possibly could, but it was difficult when she saw him every single day, joking and laughing with his perfect smile, and dimples (why the dimples?), and his hair that he was so obsessed with. Whenever she was around him she always made fun of him and his hair, joking that she’d charm it off when he was sleeping, but really? She couldn’t have done that if she’d tried. 

Sometimes, however, she got the feeling that James liked her back. Just little things, that were probably just best friend things (at this point she didn’t know the difference), like carrying her books, and waiting for her after lessons, but she had once or twice caught him looking at her with an expression that she couldn’t quite place. Whenever that had happened he’d pulled a goofy face and brushed it off with a joke, though, so she never had a chance to see more clearly.

***

Like just now, she could feel him staring at her, in that way, even with her eyes closed. They had spent so much time together that Lily often thought that they could manage perfectly fine even if they were silenced for the rest of time. She knew what all his little facial expressions and hand gestures meant, which was how she could so easily tell what he was trying to tell Sirius across the classroom (it was usually about a prank, but she generally ignored it).

The sun had almost set, and the crickets were humming contentedly. Suddenly James broke the comfortable silence they had been in for about twenty minutes.

“Hey, Lils?”

“Mm?” It felt weirdly familiar to their first time lying in this same spot, her confiding her fears in James.

“Do you think there really is gonna be a war?”

 Of course, the topic that was on everyone’s mind at the moment. The silent thoughts and whispered conversations she heard her friend’s parents talking about when she was staying with them. 

“I think that Minnie and Dumbledore think there will be.”

“Yes, I know that much. But do you?” James was looking at her like nothing but her opinion would matter on the topic. She sighed.

“As much as I’d love to keep denying it, the Death Eaters and You Know Who are only getting stronger. It’s inevitable at this point I reckon.” She sat up and looked at him, chin in her hand. “I’m scared though.” He also sat up, mirroring her position, and smiled sadly.

“We all are Lils.” She shook her head.

“I’m a muggle-born. They target people like me, and you know it James. You heard Severus, didn’t you, I’m a ‘filthy mudblood’.” James had a pained expression, as Lily blinked furiously to try and rid the stupid tears from her eyes. She felt his hand on her free one and met his eyes, surprised.

“Don’t, please,” he looked sincere, and she could see her reflection and his eyes, wide and clear, in his glasses. “You’re way more than that. Snape’s a prick - don’t believe a word he says.” He squeezed her hand, keeping it firmly in his.

“I know he is, but I’m sure everyone’s thinking it.” She looked down, embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m sure you don't want to hear all this.” “Shut up, Evans. Of course I wanna hear it. And you really think that I’d agree with Snivellus Snape on anything?” He looked genuinely hurt for a couple of seconds. She shook her head, fighting a smile and tears at the same time. “You know what I think of you?” She shrugged.

“You're the most amazing person I know. Genuinely.” He held her gaze, “ And i know some pretty incredible people. But you’re the best by far. I think I’d know after being around you constantly for seven years. 

You’re the smartest in the year, all the teachers love you, plus, you’re a fucking badass (like damn i did not realise you could throw such a good punch). You’re so kind and thoughtful and on top of that you’re freaking gorgeous. Poor Bellatrix and all her cronies are jealous, Lils, leave some good qualities for the rest of us.” James looked a little embarrassed at his outburst but he wasn’t making a joke out of it, which meant he was sincere. He looked into her eyes, and his hazel ones were shining, as though he was fighting off tears as well. On top of all that he still had her hand held tightly in his.

Lily blushed at the intensity of his stare, but didn’t pull her hand away. She realised she should probably have said something by now, so in absence of anything else she blurted out, “You think I’m gorgeous?” (Why had she said that? Such an idiot, shit.)

“Uh, well…” James was a little red, and ran his fingers through his hair, a sign of nervousness, Lily knew. “I mean, have you seen yourself?” She caught his eye, and smiled. 

“You’re not too bad either.”

“Oh, shut up.” James rolled his eyes.

“What?” 

“You can't joke about it anymore, okay - I… I forbid it.” He stuck his tongue out at her, in the way he had always done.

“Who says I’m joking?” James’s expression changed in an instant.

“You are, though, aren't you?”

She felt her cheeks redden. “Maybe, maybe not.” He frowned and raised a finger, mimicking Professor McGonagall in an almost scarily accurate way for someone who looked so little like her.

“Miss Evans, I demand you tell me whether you are madly in love with me or not.” She grinned, and lay back down on the grass, subtly pulling her hand away from his and wiping it on her jeans. Why was she nervous? It was just James - they did this all the time. Was she going to tell him the truth? Before she would have just brushed it off, and laughed that of course not, she’d rather marry a troll, but there was something about the moment that told her she should do otherwise.

“What if I am?” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. His eyes were wide, he looked rather taken aback by that statement. She smiled, sheepishly, barely able to meet his eyes all of a sudden. Why on earth was she saying all this? James was probably just messing around with her.

“Well, what if I am?” he sat back and raised himself up on an elbow to peer at her with the same mischievous glint in his eye. 

“I guess we wont know,” she mused, grinning at him, and shuffling closer, so their sides were touching.

“I guess not.” Lily stared up at the almost completely dark sky, the first star just becoming visible. She felt James take her hand, and she intertwined her fingers with his. 

Her life was full of uncertainties, but there was one thing she did know, and that was that she would stay true to her promise, the one she had made seven years ago. Lily Evans would never forget James Potter, or leave his side until the day she died.

[bigdaddib]

promise pt.1

I really can’t believe how well my last gendrya was received. Honestly, I’m not totally sure how tumblr really works even after having it a couple of years, but I have this other story I’ve started based on this text post I found, I’m sorry to say I didn’t save it because I never thought I would actually be posting stories on here so I didn’t think I would need it, but it was basically a prompt about how Arya and Gendry making a pact to lose their virginities together. I started writing this with the intention for it to be very short and very sweet, but it has turned into something much longer and more involved than I thought it would, so I thought I’d be posting different parts one of at a time and see how it goes. Sorry if this whole preface ruined it, but I also just wanted to thank everyone for all the kind words and reblogs, the positive feedback was so overwhelming and unexpected, and I’m not sure if it was even that big of a deal in the world of tumblr but it was a pretty big deal for me. So, thank you so much, and here’s a part one that I may be continuing if things continue to go as well. Okay, I’m done talking, sorry lol

Arya and Gendry had grown up making each other promises. 

 The first was made when Arya was seven, Gendry nine, and he had began getting closer with all of her brothers. Before this Gendry had always been hers. Gendry got nervous around the other boys, he felt inferior to them since they had always been together and had always been in the same family. Gendry had only moved in with his father three years before then, and still felt like an outsider, no matter how hard Robert tried to make him apart of everyone’s family.

 Arya didn’t make him uncomfortable though. It was probably because she was younger and she was a girl and in some ways didn’t fit in quite the same either. It wasn’t any where near Gendry’s level of isolation, even if it was self inflicted partially, but she didn’t like the things her sister liked so they never got on very well, and while her brother’s never minded Arya joining in on their games, their mother did. Cat had always been more on the old fashioned side and letting her youngest daughter play outside and climb up trees and roofs or join her older brother’s boxing lessons was too stressful for her to handle. So, Arya was always caught in a middle place, and that was where she met Gendry. On equal footing.

 Jon joined them often but he was also very close with Rob, so Arya wasn’t threatened at first. It wasn’t until Rob began noticing Gendry was just as capable at throwing a ball about and punching stupid boxing bags when Arya started worrying. Once Gendry was accepted with the boys what would he need Arya for? Once he was involved in the family fully, there would be nothing tying them together and Arya would be left alone.

 She knew she had to act quick before too much damage was done.

 Sitting him down Arya fixed him with the most serious of looks she could make as she stuck her pinky out. “You have to promise that you’ll always like me better than them,” She told him in the most mother like voice she’s ever made.

 Gendry raised an eyebrow at her, “Better than who?”

 “You know damn well who I’m talking about stupid. But I always have to be your favorite, promise me,”

 Gendry rolled his eyes but hooked his pinky with hers all the same.

The next real promise was made when Arya was ten. There had been lots of tiny promises here and there on both their ends. Arya promised not to tell his brother where he kept his secret stuff and Gendry promised not to let Arya win anything, he always had to try and beat her fair and square.

 Arya had been listening in on her parent’s conversations for years. It was through listening to their concerns and secret opinions she managed to get anything she really wanted. Like finally getting a turn in boxing lessons and archery, it was how she managed to wiggle her way out of etiquette classes. She had also come across ballet through this method, as a sort of compromise between her and her mother. Arya had went in determined not to enjoy herself, and then found herself thinking about applying to different dance academies her senior year.   

 She was sat high on the staircase, snacking on a cookie mother was supposed to be saving for Sansa’s class the next after noon, expecting them to complain about Rob’s new girlfriend, once again. But that wasn’t the relationship they were worrying about.

  “It won’t be long until he starts to look at her. Maybe even the other way around, he’s already taller than any twelve-year-old boy I’d ever seen,”

 “He’ll probably stop soon, at least. I’d think he would…”

 “Ned, he’ll be noticing girls any moment now. Sansa has already started asking questions about Joffrey,” she was interrupted by Ned’s scoff. “Well, which one would you rather have pursuing her? Joffrey or Gendry?”

 “Tommen would probably be best,” Ned answered and Cat giggled in response.

 Arya set her cookie aside, suddenly feeling uneasy. Gendry noticing girls? What for? Sansa talking about boys? What was there to talk about? Her and Gendry never had much to do with one another before. They were polite enough and walked home from school together sometimes, but Gendry was Arya’s friend. It was one thing being friends with the boys, but he couldn’t have both of the girls, things would get too messy. Sansa accused Arya of messing with her stuff enough as it was, if Sansa suddenly started talking about Gendry…

 Arya sat with this for almost a week. Considering the conversation over and over, and she never liked the conclusion she came to.

 Obviously, her parents were referring to a fancy type of noticing and talking, a romantic type. Arya understood those things well enough, one time she had walked in on Rob’s hand up Talisa’s shirt. So, if Gendry and Sansa started on that road, Gendry would be sticking his hand up her sister’s shirt. She didn’t like that, she liked it even less then when Robb did it.

 She mostly didn’t like what it meant for her and Gendry. With Gendry’s hand up Sansa’s shirt, surely Sansa would become his favorite. Arya wouldn’t stand a chance. And what with Gendry’s hand up Sansa’s shirt and his close friendship with Jon, again, he would have no need for Arya anymore. Arya was awfully frustrated with this, because she thought she had already taken care of that problem last year.

 The way her parents talked about it made it sound like she had some time before she had to act on it though, but it was clear she was running out. She needed to know how much time there was exactly, but she couldn’t go to Gendry about it, she wasn’t stupid. So, instead she went to Jon, who was the same age as Gendry and who she knew she could say anything to.

 “Jon?” he had taken to staying locked up in his room for the entire day and night and got mad when people came in without knocking. Arya forgot to knock very often, but today she made sure to. She wanted him to be in a good mood.

 Jon stuffed his phone under his pillow, “What is it Arya?”

 “Can I ask you something?” she asked innocently.

 Jon sat up on his elbows and gave her a suspicious look. “When have you ever asked my permission before asking me something?”

 Arya decided to ignore that question, “It’s just that…” she closed the door behind her and sat at the foot of his bed, “Its only…have you started noticing girls? And if not do you think you’ll start up soon? And if soon than how soon? Weeks or months? Days?”

 Jon stared, wide eyed. Arya only stared back, determined for an answer. Eventually he sighed and plopped back down onto his back. “What has brought this on Arya?” he asked miserably.

 Arya shrugged even though he wasn’t looking at her. “Nothing I was just wondering…”

 “Are you going to let me not answer you and keep some dignity?” he asked.

 “Not without a fight,” Arya answered, which really meant no, she wasn’t. And Jon knew that.

 He sighed heavily again before emotionlessly saying, “Yes, I’ve noticed a thing or two about girls. Can you leave me alone now?”

 Arya chewed her lip. That wasn’t good, that didn’t leave her much time at all. “Have you noticed everything about a girl or would you say you have a ways to go?”

 “I’m not sure how much more there is to notice that I haven’t already gotten to,”

 Arya heard in his voice that he had reached the limit of how much he was willing to share and any more information had to be drawn out through out the week, or even a month, and she didn’t have the time. At this rate, Gendry would be noticing and Sansa would be talking and Arya would never hear from him again. She didn’t bother to thank Jon as she ran out the door and bicycled her way to Gendry’s house. She climbed up to his window and knocked so she wouldn’t have to deal with Joffrey or Cersei.

 Gendry’s loud, angry music blasted through Arya’s ears as he opened the window for her.

 “I was about to come over,” Gendry told her casually, snacking on an apple.

 “Promise me you won’t notice Sansa,” Arya got out before she lost courage.

 Gendry blinked at her, “What?”

 “Promise me you won’t notice Sansa and put your hand up her shirt,” she clarified, her pinky out and ready.

 Gendry almost dropped his apple, “Put my hand where?”

 “I know you’ve already started noticing girls, and I know Sansa’s the prettiest one, but you can’t notice her, okay? Promise me,” she thrusted her pinky in his face.

 Gendry’s face was now just as red as the apple he was eating. “I-I…honestly Arya what makes you think—”

 “Are you going to promise or not?!” Arya didn’t like that he didn’t agree to this immediately. Maybe she had been too late, maybe he’d already noticed all there was to notice like Jon had.

 Gendry was stiff a moment, looking to her pinky then to Arya and she was sure in that moment that he had noticed Sansa at least a little bit. But in the next moment she saw him let it go and hook his pinky with hers. Gendry had picked Arya and it almost made Arya cry. Arya cheered, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. “Thank you,” she said.

 “Yeah okay,” Gendry grumbled, patting her back.

   It wasn’t long after that, a few months really, the next big promise was made. It came the day after Arya had her first lesson on the birds and the bee’s. She wasn’t meant to receive this lesson, but she often snuck herself into the bigger kids’ classes so she could go back to her own and pretend she already knew everything they were talking about. She had come home that day with lots of questions regarding the video they had watched.

 Her mother couldn’t stop her voice from getting too high and her father kept stuttering so she turned to her oldest brother Rob. She would’ve gone to Jon, but she already made him uncomfortable with the ‘noticing girls’ thing and, if she was being completely honest, she doubted he knew much more about it than she did.

 “Rob,” she said while he was doing his homework. “Can you tell me about sex but be honest about it?”

 Rob threw his head back and let out the longest, most miserable, tortured groan Arya had ever heard. When he was done he just sat like that, his head back, staring at the ceiling. Arya got the idea he thought if he didn’t move long enough she’d forget about it and walk away. But she didn’t. She could wait him out, she didn’t have any homework to do anyway.

 Eventually she won and Rob told her to sit down.

 “Listen, I’m gonna cut to the chase about it, but I’m not going to give you details. I’m gonna tell you the basics and nothing more, and there’s nothing you can say or do that’ll make me give you more, you got that?” he got that serious determined look Arya often copied so she nodded. Secretly she figured she’d give it a day or two before trying him again if she had any more questions, which she probably would. “Okay, so…” Rob suddenly didn’t seem too confident as he looked at Arya’s eager, curious face. He groaned again, rubbing his forehead before he pointed his finger at her ambitiously, “So,” he started again, voice stronger, “there’s a girl and there’s a guy, usually—”

 “Usually?”

 “Hey! What did I say?” Robb raised an eyebrow and Arya rolled her lips together. Robb made sure she was gonna stay quiet before starting again, “There’s a girl and a guy, a much older girl and guy, like ten to twenty years older, and only if they love and trust each other very much, and they come to the mutual decision to have sex. That means, both of you, especially you Arya, will agree to have to sex. You have to be very, very, very, very sure you 1.) want to have sex, and 2.) want to have sex with that person, I can’t stress that enough. Do you understand that?” he looked at her and Arya nodded. “And once you two have talked about it, thought it over, and have come to the decision you want to have sex you…” Rob’s voice got wobbly again and he had to clear his throat, “Well you…uh…okay, so uh…” he closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. Arya rolled her eyes. “gods, I can’t do this,” Rob shook his head and turned back to his homework.

 “Hey!” Arya grabbed his sleeve, “You can’t do that!”

 “I said I’d give you the basic information, and that’s as basic as it gets. Sex is with someone you love and trust, and that’s all you need to know,” he said in the voice that meant he wasn’t going to talk no matter what Arya did. At least, not today, she could try again tomorrow if she wanted, but it honestly seemed like a lot of work if that’s all the information she was going to be getting per conversation. She knocked his text book off the table before stomping away,

 Just like she did before her last promise, Arya sat with the information she had for a while. Sex, whatever it was, should only happen with someone she loved and trusted and should happen in ten to twenty years which, at ten, was almost the same thing as it was never going to happen.

 All those things together made it almost obvious on what was to be done next.

 The next time Gendry was over, right before they started playing video games, Arya stuck her pinky out.

 “What the hell Arya, what is it now?” he asked her, frustrated. Arya was suspicious he was still a little bitter about her making him promise not to notice Sansa.

 “Promise me that the first time we have sex, it’ll be together,” Arya said unashamedly. There’s no one else in the world Arya trusted or loved more than Gendry, other than her family and while Arya didn’t know much about it, she knew sex wasn’t meant for family.

 Gendry’s jaw dropped the widest Arya had ever seen it. “Arya!”

 “What?” she frowned. “I love you and trust you, that’s what you need to have sex with someone.”

 “Well yeah, but—”

 “You don’t love me?” Arya asked, suddenly feeling very sad, “You don’t trust me?”

 “It’s not that! You’re ten years old, I’m older than you—”

 “Not now, obviously, sex doesn’t happen for another ten to twenty years, I’m not stupid!”

 “Arya, you don’t get it—”

 “Sex is for people who love and trust each other,” Arya felt like she was close to tears. She didn’t think this promise would be a big deal at all, she thought it made the most sense in the world. “Why are we even friends if you don’t love or trust me?”

 Gendry ran a very stressed hand through his hair, “Arya that’s not all there is to it—”

 “Well, what else is there?” she was quick to ask. When Gendry struggled to answer she took that as a sign he was lying and didn’t actually love and trust her. Maybe he wanted to have sex with Sansa first, and was mad at Arya for stopping that. “Fine, if you want to notice Sansa so bad go ahead and notice her. I never cared anyway. You can play video games with her for all I care,” Arya left so she could beat Sansa’s old stuffed animals with a stick.

 She barely talked to him for a week. He tried, he knocked at her window, he walked her to school, he waited outside of her class, but if he didn’t immediately promise her what she wanted she ignored him.

 “You’re a kid, Arya! I’m not trying to be a creep,” he said from outside her window. Arya turned her music up. “Oh come on, how long are you going to pout?”

 Arya didn’t answer, he knew exactly how long she was going to pout.

 “Fuck you Arya!” he hit at her window before leaving.

 He stopped trying to make up for two days. Instead he hung out with her brothers in a very obvious and obnoxious kind of way, but it didn’t bother Arya. She knew Gendry and she knew he could never hold out as long as she could. No one could.

 Eventually, while she was eating her cereal, Gendry angrily took a seat next to her.

 She took a bite, looked at him.

 He set his jaw, looked at her.

 Then he stuck out his pinky.