#(also took the opportunity to fix a mistake I missed that had been really annoying me) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ignitedbynatsu · 4 years ago

Text

He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Rogue

A/N: let it be known that I finally managed to update at the deadline I set myself 🥳 I'm so sorry I was gone this past week but college was getting hella busy so I had to focus on that this past week but I'm backkk. Thanks to everyone who stuck around, I missed you all and can't wait to get to the requests ❤️

Genre: angst to fluff

Warnings: swearing, insecurities (he makes you feel too childish)

Other versions:

Gray ~ Laxus ~ Cobra/Erik ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Natsu ~ Jellal ~ Freed ~ Sting

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

A loud crash could be heard followed by your and Sting's laughter filling the guild. You quickly fled the scene and hid behind Rogue while stifling your laughter.

You had played the oldest prank in the book on Minerva. A water bucket on a half-open door. You'll never understand how the brilliant mage fell for that one, but she did, resulting in you hiding from her wrath.

"(Y/N)! Sting!" Minerva screeched as the water dripped down her hair.

"We're sorry Minerva-san, we just couldn't pass the opportunity" you apologize on your and Sting's behalf, but it was nowhere near sincere As you both were still doing everything in your power to not burst out in laughter. It wasn't even that funny, but to you and Sting it was hilarious.

"I swear I'm dating a child" the annoyance that was latched on to the words made you immediately stop laughing. Surely he didn't mean for it to come out that harsh, right?

"I'm sorry, what was that" a soft smile still playing on your lips, but that was quickly wiped off when you met his cold gaze.

"I said that you're fucking childish, (Y/N). It was bad enough having Sting act this way, but with you encouraging him and even joining him? I feel like I'm in a fucking daycare. Grow up, will you" Sting laughter also died down as he saw his friend take his frustrations out on you. "Hey, man, that's not cool-"

"No, Sting, it's fine. I- uh- I'll see you all tomorrow" even Minerva shook her head in disappointment as she observed your slumped shoulders as you left the guild. She didn't miss the tears starting to form either.

The rest of the day everyone felt that they were walking on eggshells around Rogue, not daring to get on his bad side. They felt bad for you. Sure you could be a little annoying with all the pranks you pulled, but they all knew it was just good fun. You never meant any harm and just wanted to make the guild feel a little more like home.

That homeyness that you seemed to bring everywhere you went, was gone the next day. Your usual colourful outfits were replaced by dull grey and black clothes. They even were certain that they hadn't seen you crack a smile once that day.

"Hey, (Y/N)! I got this amazing idea for a prank and-" you interrupted Sting before he could elaborate his grand idea "thank you, Sting, but I'll have to decline."

You had never refused a prank before, nor had he ever heard you talk that formal "that's it"

You raised an eyebrow at him as he stormed off to God knows where.

You hated turning him down. After all, you had been itching all day to break this facade, but it was for the best. It'll pay off in the long run you kept telling yourself. After all, you couldn't imagine a world where you'd have to live without Rogue. So if that meant you'd have to change your personality a little bit, you wouldn't even hesitate to make that sacrifice.

Meanwhile, Sting had left to go find Rogue. He knew that his best friend was the only one who could put an end to this "is this what you wanted?"

"I have no clue what you are talking about" Rogue replied as he turned around to meet the fuming blonde.

"You seriously don't see how miserable you made (Y/N)?" He scoffed as Rogue looked around to spot you. It took him some time as he did not expect you to wear something so... Colourless. "You haven't even spoken to her today, have you?"

"I decided that I was way out of line yesterday and that I should give her some time" he explained. Did you really think you needed to change just to please him?

"How kind of you" Rogue was surprised by the sweet words coming out of Sting's mouth, but when he turned back to the said boy he was met by a harsh glare "now go fix it"

"What if I make it worse" the guilty was slowly eating him alive as he dared to steal another glance at you.

"You can't possibly make it worse than it already is" Sting dismissed his insecurities

"Fro thinks so too!" Rogue's head snapped towards the Exceed "Frosch?"

"It's three against one here" Lector also piped up as the three stared at him expectingly.

The raven-haired sighed, knowing he should do something to fix his mistakes, so he took a deep breath, gathered all his courage and headed towards his girlfriend. He never thought he'd feel this scared again to talk to you.

"(Y/N)... Can we talk?" He wanted to sound confident but when you looked at him and not even spared him a small smile, he felt like he wanted to sink back into the shadows.

"Of course, what is it you'd like to talk with me about?" Rogue cringed how smooth your tone was. No unnecessary intonation, no shouting, no expression. Everything was dull and blank.

"Why are you acting like this" your eyes went wide for a second. Were you still not living up to his expectations? Was it too little? Too much? You had no clue.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you are talking about" you replied swiftly, covering up any traces of emotions you had just shown. "Did you not want me to stop acting like a child?"

"Yes, but-" "and is what I'm doing not exactly that what you asked me to do?" "Yeah... But-" Rogue was getting frustrated, but he knew he had no right to snap at you again.

"Then I don't see the relevance of this conversation. I'll be heading home now. I'll see you tomorrow" with that you placed a kiss on his cheeks and headed back out of the guild.

Rogue's attempts at covering up his frustration were in vain as you could read him like an open book. Afraid to get yelled at again you hastily decided to head back home. Ready to scream or punch something just to get your own frustrations out.

After the failed attempts of him making it up to you, you managed to put up your facade for a week, until one day you just didn't show up. You didn't notify Sting or Rogue in advance, which you normally do, you were just too tired to deal with anyone.

"Has (Y/N) told you she wasn't coming today?" Rogue's anxiety was through the roof. He nearly burned a whole town to the ground when he lost Frosch. Imagine what he'd do if he didn't know where you, his significant other was. "No"

"I'm going to her house" with that Rogue left in an attempt to find you. Luckily for him, you were indeed just at your house.

Your stomach dropped at the sound of someone knocking at your door. You were tired, no, exhausted even. You hated that you had to pretend that you were someone that you're not, but it was all for a good cause you kept telling yourself, and yet you couldn't muster the energy to keep up that facade.

"(Y/N)? Please tell me your home" your heart broke at the sound of his voice. The worry and desperateness were caused because of you. Once again you were not good enough.

You opened the door ever so slightly, just enough, so he could make out that it was in fact you. "Thank God you're here"

"I'm sorry for not giving a heads-up. I promise I'll be back tomorrow" you promised him as you were about to shut the door again, but he stopped you by placing his own hand against the door.

"(Y/N), please, we need to talk" you contemplated for a minute, weighing the pros and the cons "please"

You slowly opened the door further as a signal for him to come in.

The sight in front of him shattered his heart. Your eyes were red and puffy. Your figure was completely slouched and your arms were wrapped around your middle, hugging yourself, in an attempt to shield yourself away from.

"I'm sorry I probably look like a cry baby right now-" he stopped you before you could finish your excuse "hey, no, none of that"

"I want to tell you something and I need you to listen without you interrupting me, okay?" You nodded your head at his request and waited patiently as he continued. "First and foremost I'd like to apologize for my behaviour last week. I shouldn't have worked out my frustration on you and I shouldn't have attacked you like that."

You nodded your head at his apology "second, I want you to know that you should never change your personality. Especially not for me. I love you, (Y/N). And when I say that, I mean every piece of you. Your good and your bad traits. If fell in love with you for who you are, and not the person you've been portraying as the last week."

"Please go back to your old self. I'd rather have a childish person as my girlfriend than a fraud that's clearly exhausted by putting on a facade. I really am sorry for making you feel like you had to change for me" by now you were full-on crying. Maybe it was because of Rogue's kind words, maybe it was because of the exhaustion, maybe a bit of both. All you cared about now was being in his arms and feeling loved.

"It's okay" you whispered as placed your head on his chest as he planted a kiss on your head.

"It really isn't. That's why I'd like to make it up to you" you broke the hug to look up at him as a mischievous glint was sparkling in his eyes "how about we prank Sting?"

"I'd love to, but for now let's just watch a film and cuddle" you smiled at his idea as you had never pranked Sting before since you always prank others together.

"Anything for you, princess" that's how you spend the rest of your evening in each other's arms, with him reassuring you every once in a while that he loves you and that you should never change.

743 notes · View notes

alwaysdarkestbeforethedawn94 · 4 years ago

Text

Work You Out (M)

Authors: @alwaysdarkestbeforethedawn94 and @nomunamuinmybrain

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Everything marked as M includes explicit content. Do not read if you are under 18 years of age.

Genre: Slice of Life/ Idol AU/ Smut

Summary: Working for Hybe has been an experience. Being Jungkook's manager is another story. His sharp eyes, firm jawine and snarky attitude was a deadly combination to begin with. The guy easily found his way to your heart and you simply couldn't take it anymore.

Notes: Hello!! That's another installment of the imaginary scenarios myself and my best friend @nomunamuinmybrain come up with while driving by the coast line. This oneshot is going to be cross-posted on her profile too. Enjoy!!

Word Count: 2.4K

Thinking back to how I managed to land such an unimaginable employment opportunity must have been a miracle. Unquestionably, working for HYBE had so many benefits; I swore to never leave this place. Sure, I was a simple manager's assistant, but I was by the side of one of the managers that handled the most important talent in the stretch of South Korea, the entire globe to be honest, BTS. I was assigned the position of assistant to the manager of one of the guys, none other than Jeon Jungkook. I really couldn’t believe my luck. Not only was I a part of one of the most skyrocketing influential enterprises in the country, but I also had the chance to meet some of the most inspiring people in the whole world! Who would have thought?!

Did I have a crush on the guy by the end of my first month working here? Yes, but who wouldn't? He is the sweetest, always polite and courteous. I've met my share of self-boasting asshats; this industry is flooded with such. This guy is worth billions and he has remained ridiculously humble. Word got around about him being a wonderful young man and I could positively say he is so much more up close. Jungkook is ridiculously handsome that’s a given already, but his personality was the real deal-maker. He reminds me of a dark stormy thundery night where I cover myself with my favourite warm fluffy blanket starring out of the window a rich flavored hot chocolate in hand.

In general, I quite enjoy working at the company’s principled environment. Don’t get me wrong, nothing in this world is rainbows and butterflies, but overall, I can confidently say that it’s been a mainly positive experience. Thankfully, the department I am in is assembled by kind, funny people who like to get things done. There hasn’t been a day were I regretted coming here. As for my daily duties as an assistant, working for Jungkook meant keeping up with his appointments, helping him with anything at anytime, managing his schedule, making sure it matches with the other guys' and so much more. I was required to work around the clock and as a single independent woman in her late twenties who was trying to figure out the world around her that didn’t sound like such a bad idea, though I digress. Essentially, I was one of the employees responsible for pretty much anything and everything he needed. Our department was at his disposal 24/7 running around, living that busy life.

That's until the pandemic struck. That was the first time I thought to myself that this might be nature’s valiant plan to get back what man so forcefully took from her. Suddenly, everything was canceled; life got put on a hold. My dearest supervisor, Jungkook's manager, had to stay at home because he had kids. In fact, a lot of people had to stay at home. Abruptly, days became weeks and weeks became months. The desperation and frustration we were feeling was like nothing else ever experienced. Truthfully, it felt like something had been stolen from us and we could never get it back. In this manner, when the gears finally started grinding again I was assigned to be the on-site manager for Jungkook. That meant being in direct contact with him more so than before and of course, being responsible for a ton of other obligations.

Not going to lie, the first months were slightly awkward for both of us and understandably so. We both were used to very different working arrangements. I might have been working behind the scenes before, but now I had to step into the spotlight becoming his own personal shadow, and I am sure he wasn’t really comfortable with that. Taken into account the current situation everyone looked like a volcano ready to erupt.

Once, I happened to accidentally step in a not so common incident; maybe it was a circumstance I wasn’t supposed to witness. He was on the phone at the time, when I saw him. That’s why I decided it was best if I stayed behind the half closed door of the studio. I couldn’t hear what he was saying and it was none of my business after all, but I could tell by the minute I laid my eyes on him that something was wrong. Something had been bothering him; irritation written all over his face. He was pacing back and forth, phone still on his ear. He was clenching his fist so hard I wondered if his nails cut into his skin. He was breathing heavily, almost as if he would burst and his muscles grew tense.

Then, in an instant, it seemed that the call ended and as he was putting the phone in his pocket he slammed his fists down onto the table a loud bang echoing in the room. After some consideration, I knocked on the door to make my presence known and he sharply looked at me. Without having the chance to say anything to him he let out a loud growl and left the room leaving me dumbfounded and unaware by the door. Soon after that, he apologized for the way he acted confessing that he had an unfortunate falling out with one of his closest friends and at the time he couldn’t process what was happening. I would never forget that day. It was the day I came across a not so familiar side to him.

From that day forward, things miraculously became easier and Jungkook was way more relaxed around my presence, we joked around often and he even texted me to ask about a variety of things outside of regular working hours. We managed to develop a teasing relationship full of endless borderline flirtatious banter. He had this other side to him that only a selected few got the chance to know. Jeon Jungkook was indeed a comforting raging night, but he was also an infuriating playful mischievous brat when he wanted to be. This in all honesty, made him a hundred times more irresistible in my eyes.

Life was going on smoothly until Jungkook decided that taking after midnight trips to the gym was perfectly acceptable, insisting that I escort him instead of his bodyguard. I cursed every single time but I went anyway. Forty-five minutes after midnight he was lifting weights, unbothered. Taking secret short glances towards him I contemplated what I had done in my previous life to deserve this torment. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less about the late hour, but to have this view in front of my eyes was causing me both mental and physical pain. The guy was clearly sculpted by the gods. With his broad chest, muscular arms and thick thighs he could have anyone he ever wanted. He even sported an hourglass figure; He is insanely unreal. That’s the main reason why I decided to sit there preoccupied with a silly game on my phone to kill time until the suffering ended. I was barely hanging from a string at the verge of blowing off the barrier between my personal and professional life.

Out of the blue, with a loud grunt, he dropped the weights, drawing me out of my contemplation. He looked annoyed for whatever reason. He tried his best to seem nonchalant but it was obvious, in his beautiful stern eyes. Could he be craving for an audience? Abandoning every rational thought I had, I put my phone away, looked in his direction as I got up to get water. I smirked at his clear annoyance. Surely, we weren't supposed to interact with the artists this way but I am cranky and sleepy, and for the first time ever, he was being kind of an ass to me. Was I perhaps the reason behind his sudden personality change? The thought kept floating at the back of my mind.

This kept going on for about three weeks or so and I gave him nothing. His annoyance prominent in his expression, more and more as the weeks went by. He was hot but I am sure all he had been seeking was an audience given that he missed it, or so I thought. Thursday evening rolls around and I was particularly iffy tonight ‘because I was extremely frustrated, sexually. This one was making my situation worse, sporting a tight black tank top and skinny grey sweatpants which made him look like a treat. He could easily pass for a bodyguard with those broad well-built shoulders. As my eyes scanned his body I realized this was the first time his tatted sleeve was on display. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander. By the time I was done his eyes were already fixed on mine and I turned away immediately, embarrassment written all over my face.

Seeking solace in the women’s bathroom I tried to extinguish this ravenous yearning. The feeling of cold water did nothing to help the burning desire that was building inside me. Without warning, a knock at the door was heard, his sweet angelic voice following "Are you okay?" he asked, the remnants of a smirk could be heard still. "Jungkook you cannot be here, I am okay. I'll be out in a minute." I exclaimed, as calm as I could. "It's been ten minutes. I can't continue unless you're there." He insisted, I heard him chuckle after that.

With that, it was now or never, I pushed the door’s handle and made my way outside rolling my eyes in the process and he caught that, quickly moving closer, clearly annoyed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in my features, making him look not quite intimidating but definitely interesting. No, it was my mistake. Not just interesting, he looked ravishing. "As I said, I'll be out in a minute. Then you can finish up" I argued. But he didn't budge, moving even closer, if that was even possible, he was almost a breath away. "I don't feel like working out anymore" he declared like a child whose toy was taken away from him. As if I chose to play heads or tails with my career, I poked the beast further, "What is it that you want to do then?" I asked making sure he heard the annoyance in my tone. Coming even closer, to the point where he was completely pressed up against me, "You" he uttered calmly yet authoritatively. Before I could process what he had just said his soft lips crushed mine with a vengeance, thirsty. Pulling my lip with his teeth, he kept planting kisses from my lips to my jaw trailing down to my neck and décolletage; a surprised panting left my lips.

It felt as if I had involuntarily awakened this beastly hunger within him. His kisses insatiable and his touch was possessive, "I've been thinking about this for so long" he confessed as he took my hoodie off. "Sitting there, not giving a word let alone a glimpse. If you think this is off-limits you're wrong" he growled pointing at himself. "I can guarantee that once we're done here you definitely won't be able to look at me, ever." As he said all that, he managed to get me in a compromising position against the sink, his slim waist in between my legs. He kept my gaze as he lowered his head between my thighs. Little shit kept giving me hickeys on the soft flesh of my inner thighs, so close to my now dripping core. He enjoyed tormenting me and it showed. I was helpless but oh, God was all of this hot. He licked a stripe over my soaked panties, "Oh baby, you smell delicious" and with one hand he took off my underwear completely.

He sank in my folds, letting a guttural moan that I felt vibrating through my core. Not being able to think about what was happening I let myself indulge in my carnal desire my hands tangled in between his luscious hair.

He loved food and I've watched him eat before, but this must be one of his favorites ‘cause he was doing his best not to let a drop go to waste; he acted like a man starved. His hands held me in place, thankfully, ‘cause everything was too much; nothing could stop me from shaking, feeling everything deep in my core, he was too much. He just had to be good at everything. He kept a torturous tempo, from sucking my clit to his sinful tongue penetrating me, and as tears gathered around my eyes he decided to add his slender fingers in bringing me closer to heaven than I've ever been. "That's it baby, let go. Let go for me" he exhaled and just like that I had the most intense climax. My limbs felt numb, my whole body felt like rubber.

Before I could register what was happening he was back at it, sucking my over stimulated clit, my thighs unconsciously closing around his head as oversensitivity hit. "One more, please, come on baby, you can do it" he begged. He kept pumping his fingers while sucking my clit, as if it was his only goal in life. My screams muffled through my own hand clamped on my mouth as I reached my high for a second time that night. I felt it take over me with such intensity I didn't register what had happened. He emerged from between my thighs, soaked from me squirting and with a proud look on his face he declared "Now I look like I had the workout of a lifetime".

He helped me get dressed and pulled me close for a soft peck. He must have noticed my concerned look because he wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug and said "Don't be scared about this, we can work it out. I really like you and I'd like you to stick around". Starring into his eyes, I nodded and he pulled me close for the sweetest kiss, trying to tame my bewildered hair. He helped me get dressed and got out the door first to make sure that no one was around. I waited for a moment and then I got a text.

#bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x y/n #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine

120 notes · View notes

nomunamuinmybrain · 4 years ago

Text

Work you out (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating: M

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2.4K

In collaboration with the lovely @alwaysdarkestbeforethedawn94

Disclaimer: if you are under the age of 18 please know that this contains heavy sexual themes and mature language.

Summary: Working for Hybe has been an experience. Being Jungkook’s manager is another story. His sharp eyes, firm jawline and snarky attitude was a deadly combination to begin with. The guy easily found his way to your heart and you simply couldn't take it anymore.

In general, I quite enjoy working at the company’s principled environment. Don’t get me wrong, nothing in this world is rainbows and butterflies, but overall, I can confidently say that it’s been a mainly positive experience. Thankfully, the department I am in is assembled by kind, funny people who like to get things done. There hasn’t been a day were I regretted coming here. As for my daily duties as an assistant, working for Jungkook meant keeping up with his appointments, helping him with anything at anytime, managing his schedule, making sure it matches with the other guys' and so much more. I was required to work around the clock and as a single independent woman in her late twenties who was trying to figure out the world around her that didn’t sound like such a bad idea, though I digress. Essentially, I was one of the employees responsible for pretty much anything and everything he needed. Our department was at his disposal 24/7 running around, living that busy life.

#bts #bts fanfic #BTS jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #idolau #bts imagines #jungkook oneshot #bts one shot #bts text #jungkook text

91 notes · View notes

miamlfy · 4 years ago

Text

My Son

A/N: Omg I finally got this out, so sorry for how long it took me. School has been kicking my butt, which I’m sure many of you can understand. It has been draining all of my energy and motivation but I finally finished this. Please be patient with me, I am working very hard on your request (which are still open btw). Anyways, I apologies for any mistakes I didn't catch.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Potter! Reader

Summary: The Potters (and Draco) prepare for the upcoming school year at Diagon Alley and see the Malfoys there. (Continuation to Homemade Rings)

Warnings: Lucius, None! Mostly fluff

Word Count: 1,7K

Masterlist

Enjoy!

(Not my gif, credit to whoever made it)

September first was coming up fast, which meant the you and your family, along with Draco were to go school shopping. Having Draco live with you was quite fun and he got along very well with your parents, as well as Harry. Draco and Harry have been sharing a room since Draco first came to stay with you and although they could be annoying and bother each other, they weren’t terrible roommates.

Harry let Draco put up some posters in the bedroom and decorate part of the room to Draco’s liking. You, along with James and Lily, were glad they were getting along and sometimes they acted like best friends, which was great. You just hoped they kept that friendship when you all went back to Hogwarts.

You woke up early, as well as everyone else to get a head start on shopping, everyone was in a cheerful mood besides you. You stayed up finishing any work given to you over the summer, as you quickly forgot about it when Draco moved in. You also did some of Harry’s work after you lost a bet to him early on in the summer.

“Good morning sunshine.” Lily said, as you sat down. You let out a groan and filled up your plate with food.

“Did you sleep?” Draco asked, whispering into you ear. You glared at him for a second and shook your head no. Just then, Harry comes down to the kitchen and sits down at the table, letting a very loud yawn while extending his arms outwards.

“Good morning everyone.” Harry said, rather cheerfully. Your eyes were fixed on him as he placed food onto his plate. Looking up, he gave you an innocent smile, not budging with your killer glare.

You ate your breakfast silently, your mind being too tired to process words. Once everyone finished, Harry and Draco were set to clean up and you took that opportunity to lay on the couch while your parents finished getting ready.

However, what you thought would be a peaceful rest soon escalated to yells coming from the kitchen.

“Draco you idiot, you don’t put normal dish soap into the dishwasher!” You heard Harry yell out. You sighed and turned on your side, hoping to block out his yells.

“I’m not an idiot, I’ve never used one of these bloody things before,” You heard the dishwasher slam shut, “You’re the idiot for not telling me!” Draco yelled back. You flipped onto your other side, growing frustrated.

More bickering had ensured between the two, you sat up and rubbed your eyes angrily, all you wanted was some damn sleep, was that so hard to get? Hearing your parents footsteps enter the living room, you stood up from the comfortable couch and dragged your feet to the fireplace.

“Draco why are your clothes wet?” James asked, Draco simply pointed to Harry who was sporting dry clothes. James gave Harry a stern look while Lily dried Draco with a spell.

Harry raised his hands up in protest, “In my defense, Draco asked what to use to dry the dishes and I told him to use his shirt, as a joke,” he said, emphasizing his last words, “I didn’t think he’d take me seriously.” You giggled a bit, Draco was still a bit clueless when it came to do things the ‘muggle way’.

James merely shook his head and formed a line behind the fireplace, “Alright Y/n darling, you first.” He said. You nodded and entered, speaking the words ‘Diagon Alley’ as you threw floo powder. The others soon joined, one by one.

Once everyone was together and made sure Harry didn’t mispronounce the words, you started making your way around through the crowded streets. Draco took your hand in his, being as this was your first time out in the wizarding world together, you now can show small gestures of your relationship to the public.

Lily pulled out the list she made of all things everyone needed, “We should start by getting your textbooks and then from there go t— James!” Lily exclaimed, turning to face your dad, “We are not going to get new quidditch equipment, the kids don’t need new things and when did you add this?”

“Not for them, for me.” James said, ignoring Lily’s questioned. Lily simply shook her head and lead everyone to Flourish and Blotts.

You smiled lightly as you entered the shop, the smells of books always made you happy and sent you to a calm space. Most likely something you adapted from your uncle Remus. Still holding onto Draco, the two of you made your way around the shop squeezing your way through the growing crowd and getting all the textbooks you’ll be needing for the school year.

“What classes are you excited for Draco?” You asked, running your hands on a books spine.

“Potions no doubt and maybe helping Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing, I think that will really help me become a decent healer.” He answered.

You smiled at his words, “You’ll make a fantastic healer Draco.” You placed a kiss on his cheek and found your parents and Harry preparing to pay.

Once James managed to convince Lily, the five of you entered Quality Quidditch Supplies. A group of people were surrounded around this years new broomstick, your dad and Harry, along with Draco, joined those people. You walked around the shop with your mom and looked around, you were in no need of a new broom, you would forever be thankful for your uncle Sirius in gifting you the Firebolt for your thirteen birthday.

Lily and you quickly left the shop once it started getting more full of people. You quickly spotted the boys and a very happy James who was holding a new Quidditch set, you heard Lily let out a sigh.

“Did you really need another set, James?” She asked once James reached the two of you.

“I tried stopping him mum, I really did.” Harry spoke in a non convincing tone, he most likely encouraged James. Draco raised his arms in defense and grabbed ahold of your hand.

The five of you finished up your shopping and decided to end the day by eating dinner at a restaurant in London. Making your way out of Diagon Alley, you felt Draco freeze beside you and noticed his gaze was fixed on something. Following his eyes, you saw his parents who were standing outside a shop, not yet noticing the Potter family.

Draco hasn’t spoken/seen his parents since the incident. Lucius and Narcissa knew he was now living with you and although your parents haven’t spoken directly to them to gain full custody of Draco, it was pretty clear that the Malfoy couple weren’t going to object to it. You looked over to your parents who were too engrossed in a shops window, Harry as well.

Lucius and Narcissa must have noticed their son and were now making their way towards Draco and you. You squeezed Draco’s hand in reassurance, you felt him give a light squeeze back.

Standing now in front of you, Lucius full stare was on Draco while Narcissa stared at you with cold eyes, feeling a sort of jealousy for taking her son away.

“Draco.” Lucius spoke with a stern tone, “fancy seeing you here.”

“Likewise, Father.” Draco replied sternly.

“Didn’t expect you to fully commit into living with those people,” Lucius said in a disgusted tone, not caring if you were listening he continued to speak, “Thought by now you’d be done with the Potter girl and come back home, where you belong.”

Before Draco or you could respond to Lucius rather rude comment, you felt your parents presence next to yours. Lily wrapped her arm around yours in a protective manner and glared back at Narcissa, already entering momma bear mode.

James now stood in front of Lucius, you knew your parents heard his disrespectful comment towards your family and James nor Lily were about to let it slide.

“I’m sure Draco enjoys living with us and spending time with my daughter perfectly well,” James spoke up, “there was no need for your rude words, especially towards my daughter.”

Lucius eyes shifted from Draco to James, “I simply want my son to return home, his mother and I both miss him dearly.” Both James and Draco scoffed at his words.

“If you two missed me so much then why didn’t you send a letter or rather yet, treated me better when I did live with you?” Draco questioned.

“Draco we just want you back home and back with us, you can even continue to see the Potter girl.” Narcissa said desperately.

Lily scoffed and shook her head, “My daughter has a name you know and it’s Y/n.” Lily said, growing angry.

Draco ignored his mothers words letting James place a hand on his shoulder and speak once more, “You let Draco decide his choice the minute you raised your hand at him, Lucius. Draco is much of a son to me as Harry is and I will continue to treat him like one until the day I die. You lost that privilege, so don’t ever try to take my son away from me. I’m sure the ministry would love to hear more about this, does Wednesday work for you?” Lucius scowl grew larger by every word James spoke and let out a ‘very well’.

“That settles it then,” James turned to face Draco, “how does eating a muggle restaurant sound? I’m sure Lily knows a perfect one.”

“That sounds great.” Draco replied and took your hand in his and began walking away, Harry following the two of you.

“It was awful seeing you here, Lucius. I’ll set up a meeting for Wednesday.” James wrapped his arm around Lily and walked off following his kids.

“Did you really mean what you said?” Lily asked him.

“Of course I did, Draco deserves to feel loved and we will do that until the very end.” Lily smiled at his words and nodded.

“You know James, you’re kind of hot when you get all mad and a turn into an overprotective dad.”

James smirked, “Kind of? Don’t you mean very.”

“Sure James, sure.” James leaned down to kiss Lily, soon gags were heard from ahead of them.

“Can you guys stop snogging and hurry up?!” You yelled out, “My stomach keeps get growling!”

Lily sighed and laughed, “Coming!” She yelled back.

“Oh that’s definitely something you’ll be saying tonight.” James whispered into her ear, “OW!”

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x you #draco x you #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter x sister!reader #harry potter imagine #james potter x you #james potter x reader #lily potter #jily #draco malfoy #harry potter #lucius x narcissa #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy

399 notes · View notes

kisskeiji · 4 years ago

Text

Poolside. (The afterparty)

Lost & Found.

WARNINGS: language, implied sex, alcohol consumption, Kuroo (yes), not proofread.

this is an extra chapter!

You did end up ditching the party with Atsumu, he followed you to your room and spent the night with you. You woke up the next morning with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you, despite the missing clothing items on both of your bodies, Atsumu was warm and you could hear him snore softly. You propped yourself on your elbow and tried to wake him up.

“Tsumu, we’re going to be late, wake up.” He stirred awake and groaned as he stretched his limbs.

“I don’t want to go.” He said closing his eyes again.

“I know but we have to, it’s getting late and you need to go to your room to get changed.” You ran your fingers through his hair pushing it back to see his face. He groaned again, turning his back to you. “Come on, big baby, get up.” You got him to stand up after a few minutes, but he made sure to complain, and whine and groan loudly to let you know that he didn’t want to go. You went to the bathroom to start your morning routine as he got dressed and fixed his hair, you came out of the bathroom pat drying your face with a white towel.

“Let’s go to the shopping district later, I want to walk around the city before we go back home.” Atsumu said as he tied his shoes.

“I can’t, my train leaves at four.” He chuckled at your answer.

“You are not riding the train back home by yourself.” He said confidently. “Your boyfriend is coming with you.” You smiled at him and walked closer with your arms crossed. “Let’s change your tickets and we can take the 6:00 p.m ride.” He continued.

“And Suna?” You asked.

“He can come with us, he is a shopping addict he is not going to say no.” Atsumu got up and stood in front of you. “Come on, I want to get you a Christmas gift.” He tried to convince you by wiggling his brows.

“You already gave me a Christmas gift, ‘Tsumu.” You rolled your eyes and hugged his waist.

“You deserve two.” He leaned for a kiss but you stopped him.

“Go shower and brush your teeth and I’ll kiss you.” You said pulling apart.

“You always do this!” He complained. You walked him to the door and held it open. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He looked at you with puppy eyes. With a hand on his shoulder, you forced him to lean down once again and kissed his cheek.

“So needy.” You sighed.

“Only for you.” He gave you a cheeky smile and started walking backwards to the elevator and sending you kisses, you made him turn back to see where he was walking and the door in front of yours opened.

“Would you look at that? A-list athlete Miya Atsumu walking out of his publicist room first thing in the morning, you don’t see that every day.” Kuroo teased.

“You were eavesdropping?” You asked unamused.

“Couldn’t help myself.” He stretched his back like an old man when you realized that wasn’t his room.

“That’s Hideko’s room.” He nodded. “Why are you coming out of her room?”

“Think very hard.” He narrowed his eyes and laughed at your disgusted expression.

“You fucked my boss? Out of all the people in that party, you decided to hook up with my boss?” You whispered in distress as he smirked, throwing his head back. “You are unbelievable.”

“Come on, it was a great night, we had drinks, hooked up with hot people. Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun.” He leaned against the door frame.

“No, sir. You, hooked up with my boss, I spent the night with my boyfriend.” You said with arms crossed, mimicking his position.

“About time you got a boyfriend.” He joked. “Well, I’ll see you at the poolside, Hideko is bringing me as her plus one, and I can’t say no to free food.” He closed the door and threw his coat over his shoulder.

“You talk as if you weren’t a supervisor at the association.” You deadpanned and he shrugged, after that he left without another word and his damned smirk plastered on his face. ‘Annoying.’ You thought.

You tried to put together something that looked at least decent to meet the team owners, the goal was to look casual without freezing to death and to not make a mess with your luggage since you were leaving that same day. Taking a last look in the mirror with pursed lips you huffed, team reunions were always nerve-wracking, Hideko always tried to keep you away from them but today it was inevitable. You took the elevator to the lobby and looked for the salon where the afterparty was being held.

It was a secluded area on the first floor with a terrace next to the pool, ambiance music and the clinking of cups and silverware could be heard from the entrance, waiters walked all over the area with trays of cocktails and appetizers. You recognized a few faces from your higher-ups and people you’ve never seen before, naturally, you greeted everyone and started small talks with some of them, coach Foster was the first one to intervene and save you from more awkward conversations with possible sponsors.

“Y/N, Imai was asking for you just now! Why don’t you go look for her?” He lied, giving you the opportunity to excuse yourself with a promise to talk later with them. You saw Akaashi talking with Inunaki and Atsumu next to the snack bar. You were not sure why it looked like it was a cocktail party rather than brunch. You avoided everyone else while making your way to them. You placed your hand on Atsumu’s lower back and he turned to see you.

“Hey.” He said. “Long time no see.” You hooked your arms on his and pushed him lightly with your hip making him laugh as he kissed your temple.

“Am I missing something here?” Hideko asked as she sat next to Inunaki with a mimosa in one hand.

“We know you two are close and grossly in love but this is a bit too much.” Inunaki took a sip of his own mimosa and Hideko hummed in agreement. Akaashi was quiet, he just stared at you knowing what was about to come once Bokuto came back.

“When?” He asked you, smiling brightly at him for being the only one who took a hint. ‘Last night.’ You answered simply; Inunaki’s jaw dropped and Hideko almost screamed of excitement.

“Wait, before or after midnight?” She asked abruptly and you heard Inunaki curse under his breath.

“Like five minutes before midnight.” Atsumu recalled raising his brow. Hideko clapped once and closed her eyes doing a little celebration dance.

“Pay up, fucker!” She exclaimed holding her hand open, Inunaki shot Atsumu an angry glare and took his wallet out of his pocket claiming it wasn’t fair and that he could’ve waited five minutes more to ask you out. “Where are Bokuto and Thomas? They are not gonna like this one.”

“What are you talking about, Imai?” Thomas and Bokuto were standing right behind you, he looked at your hand on Atsumu’s bicep and then back to Hideko who was still dancing in victory and counting the money Inunaki gave her. “You have to be kidding me!”

“You decided to man up now? Really?” Bokuto walked past you glaring at Atsumu to place a stack of bills on Hideko’s hand and then Akaashi’s. Atsumu and you were so confused, they all had a bet?

“Hold up, Keiji, you too?” You asked in disbelief and he smirked.

“I had faith in Miya-san.” He excused himself nonchalantly as Thomas paid him. “If anything, we were your good luck charm.”

“I can believe it from Hideko, but you Keiji-kun?” Atsumu shook his hand in disapproval. You were not mad at all, but you expected something like this from Suna and Osamu rather than your coworkers.

“Hideko-san, where’s your plus one?” You decided to tease her a little as payback. She stopped laughing and looked like she wanted to strangle you, now she couldn't escape Inunaki’s reckless jokes about her ‘getting some’.

“How do you know I have a plus one?” She placed her money on her bag angrily.

“I saw him walking out of your room this morning.” Her eyes widened and you continued. “Tall, black and horribly styled hair, and I think he works for the association.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s Kuroo!” Bokuto started laughing at Hideko’s face, you didn't say anything just started laughing along with Bokuto.

“You two know him?” Hideko asked.

“He is our friend.” Akaashi clarified because you were too busy trying to catch your breath.

“Bokuto I’ll give your money back if you don’t mention this ever again.” Hideko bribed but Bokuto shook his head.

“Nah, you can keep it, this is ten times better than money.” Bokuto started laughing again.

“You are lucky I like your work.” She glared daggers at you as you closed your mouth with a fake zipper still grinning and completely satisfied with your actions. “Well, I have to go. I don't like you guys anymore. Don’t drink too much and don’t be rude to anyone.” After Hideko left, your other friends also went to wander around the room talking to other people and you were alone with Atsumu.

“See? What could've happened if you were left alone with that friend of yours last night?” He passed you a cup of sparkling water as he spoke.

“Oh, don't worry I don't make the same mistake twice.” You said confidently drinking from your cup and he nodded. It took him a second to look at you with eyes wide open in horror.

“What do you mean twice?” You almost choked on your drink at his question.

Oh shit...

(a/n: extra chapter yay! i had this idea the other day while i arranged my notes, im planning on adding more of this extra chapters and making them more light hearted so i don't kill yall with the following chapters lmao, im currently working on the next one and i've been doing a lot of research to create a time line that is easy to understand and write and sticking as much as i can to how national teams work, i was really frustrated trying to organize everything but my brain is working again, finally. i'll see you soon,,,, or not :) )

masterlist

TAGLIST (closed): @aonenthusiast @wiseeggspickleslime @koushisun @airheadpillar @sunflwrsandprettyskies @bbkiyoomi @daphnxy @shephard17895 @avatarkyoshithewarrior @for-rebloggery @vv-bee999-vv @fi16ns @asdfghjkl7things @glassykaashi @strawhatshepard @hawkssnugget @msby-kei @toobsessedsstuff @a-moon-fairy @cuteissei @ramblingsofagoofyperson @pinoyrella @kiyoomisimp

#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #msby atsumu #atsumu scenarios #atsumu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #hq imagines #hq x you #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi angst

59 notes · View notes

snapefiction · 4 years ago

Text

#9. Fever - Snapemas Challenge

A/N: Day 9 of Snapemas! Ihm sorry for the short break but Uni and work kept me busy. Enjoy the new Chapters! :)

Idea from @deepperplexity ´s Writing Challenge ! Check her Writings and the other Snapemas posts out! :)

❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️

Pairing: Severus Snape x Assistant!Reader

Word count: 3022

Y/N - Your Name, Y/L/N - Your last name

#9. Fever

Being an assistant was stressful. But being the Potions Assistant who's constantly trying not to completely disappoint the Professor was nerve wrecking. Every day you tried your best to get on 110% of Concentration. It started with getting up early to get ready, reading a few pages of a new book you got yourself as a early Christmas present, eating breakfast, heading to class and assist at Professor Snape´s Class only to stay in the Dungeons until late in the evening to grade tests or just correct Homework's. Sometimes you even forgot Lunch or Dinner but you really didn't mind. You always sneaked some Christmas cookies or bakery goods in your pocket so you would always have some food in your robe. Professor Snape didn't mind as long as you did your chores and wouldn't annoy him. Sometimes usually on Mondays or Thursdays when Professor Snape was especially busy you made sure to leave some cookies on his desk as well. Knowing he would huff at you for this niceties but would also be thankful for it.

Today was another Thursday , Thursday the 17th to be exact and in one week would be Christmas. Professor Snape told you that he wants to return the recents test back to the students on Monday. Which meant for you to put on a few nightshifts if you would want to stay up to his plan. You didn't mind taking this extra work, actually you enjoyed it. Being an Professor has always been your dream job and also you enjoyed learning from such an smart man as Professor Snape.

Besides, he may be a few years older than you are but he still was a pretty handsome man. You had a thing for him. For the way he speaks, his way to teach, the way he entered a room and took all the attention on him, how he used to dress and also for the way he never even cared a little bit about what people thought about him. On the one side you wanted to be like him and on the other you just wanted to be by his side. That's why you didn't mind stressing yourself out. It's like you almost didn't notice how time passed whenever he was around. The both of you didn't talk much but it was enough to feel like there was good company. Back to the fact that it was 9pm already and you were still correcting homework. A small shiver went down your spine only to set in goosebumps on your arms and legs. It was always cold in the Dungeons but as the night crept around it almost got unbearable for a Frostbite like you were.

As you got up to grab your robes from one of the chairs across of your table you noticed how a sharp pain grew in your head. Bad timing for a headache you thought. Not thinking about it you just filled your cup with another tea.

,,Professor, do you want another Tea as well?" You asked slightly nervously. His head slowly looked up to you. ,,No thank you, Miss YLN." As he didn't look away from you for another few seconds you sat down and dared to ask. ,,Is there anything else I can do for you?" He laid down his quill and shook his head. ,,Miss YLN, are you okay ? You're really pale." Taking a small sip from your cup you thought about your words for a few seconds before answering him. ,,I- um - I'm okay. I'm just having a little Headache. I probably didn't drink enough today." Snape's look of concern didn't fade right away but your words calmed him so much that he continued to write something down. He wasn't as scary as everyone thought he was. Actually he was always making sure that you felt comfortable as his Assistant and that you could always learn the most out of every class. Maybe he just isn't good with forming his emotions and stuff like this into words, you thought before taking the quill back into your hand and began to write down some feedback for the student.

Waking up as the sunlight hit your face you noticed how late it must've been by now. As you jumped on your feet you felt like you just wanted to lay back down again. The headache didn't fade but grew a bit and your throat was sore by now as well. What a pretty way to start your day. Putting on your fresh clothes you ran down to Professor Snapes class. As you walked through the wooden door after knocking it twice you noticed how the class hasn't started yet.

,,Miss YLN, you're pretty late today." Professor Snape stated as he was brewing something on his desk not really paying you much attention at first but then turned to you. Gladly you knew he would never be as mad with you as with the students.

,,I'm sorry, I usually never oversleep. Can I help you?" Scanning your face he wore it again. This small concerned look.

,,Maybe it's for the best of you will take yourself back for today and go back to your chambers before midnight." He advertises and continued brewing something. Feeling like you disappointed him somehow you let yourself fall down on your seat only to take out the Homework you corrected the night before and waited for the students while making some tea.

The whole day long you could follow the concerned Glance from your favourite Professor and colleague. He didn't say anything but the way you felt your energy fade from hour to hour and later minute to minute you knew his Glances weren't just expressing his concern but also an warning to take care of yourself. Sitting on your chair at 11pm you heard how he slid back his chair only to slowly walk over to you like a hunter for it's prey.

,,You know that not taking care of your health needs is not only reckless but also childish. You're obviously not alright and how are you trying to learn something if you won't remember anything anyways." Shaking his head you felt ashamed by getting lectured of him like that.

,,I'm sorry, Professor. Tomorrow I will be better, I promise." You knew that you weren't going to be better by tomorrow but you just didn't want to give in, let him do all the work by himself right before Christmas and miss his classes which really interested you. It was a tie. As a sign that you'd take his words at heart you closed your notebook and sent him a weak smile. ,,Goodnight, Professor Snape." By now he almost sat down again but followed your actions with his eyes. ,,Goodnight, Miss YLN. Get well soon." Closing the door behind you noticed how warm your cheeks have gotten. They always got red whenever he spoke to you but now they felt especially warm. Not thinking anything about it you got back to your Chambers only to continue grading five more tests until you fell asleep on your desk and headed to bed a few minutes later.

The Morning again was awful. You didn't overslept today but didn't sleep at all besides the few minutes you passed out at your desk. You were so tired but still couldn't fall asleep. Your Pain in your Head and throat didn't fade again and by now it was clear to you that there was something big awaiting you. Nevertheless you still decided to grab some of the tests. Gladly you remembered that the weekend had just begun and you haven't have to help the students all day long. You had still so much to do. You wanted to wrap a few presents, grade the last few tests, finish your book, correct homework and help Professor Snape brew a new Potion. As you looked into the Mirror you could see how the lack of sleep has drawn your face darker around the eyes and paler than usual around the cheeks wich still blushed. All together you looked like a mess. Even though whatever was coming to you hasn't fully developed inside of you yet it was clearly to see from the outside. Splashing some water on your face in hope it could fix your visual appearance just a bit and brushing your teeth you got more And more tired. After pulling your pullover over your head and taking your robe with you, you walked down to the Potions Classroom.

The Professor wouldn't approve that you were there today, you simply knew it. But your assistant contract was almost over and you tried to take everything with you. So it had gotten even more important for you to fully concentrate until the classes were over on Tuesday. Also Professor Snape started to trust you by everything you did, it was a great opportunity to test your limits and gain knowledge. So why would your health get things mixed up right before Christmas? Remembering your Professors Words you set yourself a Limit. Until Tuesday I will continue to work. Afterwards, over Christmas I will try to slow down. Nodding to approve your own thoughts you knocked on the door.

,,Come in." The Deep Voice instructed and by his tone you noticed that he was stressed out as well. Doing as you were told you entered the Classroom only to earn an disapproving Glance from your supervisor. ,,You look like a walking dead. You really should try to rest. Why won't you listen to me?" If you wouldn't be so concentrated on hiding your blush you probably would've heard his concern and despair dripping out of his words.

,,I just wanted to grab some papers and help you brew the potions. Afterwards I will head back to my chambers instantly." He eyed you up and down.

,,Well, I'm sorry to inform you that I for must away. The Ministry asked for my help so brewing the potions has to wait. I will be back tomorrow evening and until then I instruct you to rest. Merlin knows you need it." Walking over to your desk to grab everything you needed you saw a small tissue laying there spread open with a few cookies laying on top of it. It was laid down the way used to do it for your Professor. Smiling widely you turned around. ,,Thank you." Without a further Words you surprised him with a hug. He was so stiff but after a few seconds passed by he eventually rubbed your back slightly. ,,Thank you, Professor. It means a lot to me." Slightly letting him go you receive a smile of his in return. ,,You may call me Severus by now. This year we have spent so much time together you don't need to call me by this title unless Students are around." There it was again. The way your cheeks blushed, your stomach tingled and you became lightheaded. ,,Okay. So please call me Y/N then as well." You both looked at each other and sealed your deal with a small nod from each side.

,,Now get back to your chambers. I won't repeat myself again. You need rest, Y/N." Sighing you followed his instructions after gathering all your papers, materials and the cookies.

Seeing his Assistant like that didn't just only concern him but also made him feel sorry. Knowing it was wrong, against multiple Rules, against his own principes he still couldn't help it but slowly start to care about her. Care in form of worrying, thinking about her and after she would leave his classroom wishing she would come back again. That kind of care. Seeing how overworked, stressed out and tired she looked like would almost give him a physical stitch. Was he expecting too much of her ? Well, he had high Standards. He wasn't denying it but if the students were already stressed out and panicked because of his classes how must she feel? Promising to guarantee her a break to cure whatever had overtook her health lately. After not seeing her at Breakfast again he'd even sneak some cookies in a small tissue before sliding it into his robe like she'd always use to do. Even if she wouldn't attend at breakfast she'd always come to class. Her curiosity wouldn't allow her to miss anything. He loved that trait about her. It reflected perfectly how truly interested she was and how pure her instinct of wanting to gain knowledge motivated her from day to day even though she wasn't feeling her best. One time when the both of them talked late at night hovering over some test she admitted how much she loved Christmas. He felt his breath fade away and he was enchanted by her completely. The way she talked about fairy lights, Christmas traditions, the whole feast in general made him weak for her. Y/N's Excitement was so contagious that even an old kid like he was felt the Christmas spirit again. That’s why he felt like he wanted to do something for her so she could feel better even if she would have to stay at Hogwarts over her favourite Holidays.

Leaving the classroom you felt more tired than before. You were happy that you saw Severus, but sad that he had to leave. But actually your Body was grateful for this forced break. You quickly graded the last four test and corrected the last homework before grabbing your book and finally laying down again. Your eyes couldn´t even read the first words before you felt asleep again. From time to time- it must’ve been hours - you woke up again. Not being able to move or think you just faded back to a dreamless sleep.

The next time you woke up it was completely dark outside. You woke up because you were freezing so much you feared you could freeze any minute if you wouldn’t put on an extra sweater. Pushing yourself back on your feet you could feel every inch of your body hurt. But the worst was this constant noise in your ear. There it was. It finally hit you and probably would knock you off your feet this time. After you reached your sweater, pulled it over your head you directly laid back down again only to sleep until the next afternoon. At least that’s the last time you remembered to wake up. For a short moment you could remember that you probably drink something or even eat, you still had those Cookies Severus gave you, but were so tired. Your eyes couldn’t open up completely from how tired and completely exhausted you were.

Returning earlier from the Ministry than anticipated Severus made his way to his Chambers. Before he went to the Ministry he had stopped at Diagon Alley to get something that had been on his mind lately. Of course he would notice how often you had to deal with shivers and goosebumps because of the freezing air in the dungeons. And when he had seen this one new Robe he couldn’t stop imagine how it would fit on you. So when he came back he instantly bought it and even wrapped it in a Christmas themed wrapping paper. His excitement was rising from every hour to hour. How would you react? Was it too personal? Pushing his Doubts aside he waited until Monday morning.

When Monday morning arrived he couldn’t wait any longer to see you walking through his door. Time passed, the students arrived but you didn’t. Worrying if you overslept again he couldn’t fully concentrate on his Classes. Before Lunch it was enough for him. He had to find you.

Still laying in bed you couldn’t understand what’s real anymore and what’s not. The fever overtook you and you weren’t able to function anymore.

Knocking on your Door Severus stood there impatiently. ,,Miss YLN?“ After a few seconds he tried it again. ,,Miss- Y/N, is everything okay?“ Dropping the formalities his worries grew. ,,I’m starting to worry about you.“ After time passed he couldn’t hesitate but open the door with an spell.

The first time you woke up again you noticed how your head wasn’t hurting as bad as recently anymore. Also you weren’t in your bed. This one was more uncomfortable and the light from above way brighter than in your room. Looking to the side you saw Severus sitting there, holding a book trying not to fall asleep.

,,Professor.“ Smiling wagely you tried to sit up a bit. Surprised he laid the Book aside and quickly helped you. ,,I told you, you can call me Severus.“ Letting out a small hoarse chuckle you nodded. ,,Okay, Severus. What day is-´´ ,,Christmas.“ He answered not waiting for your answer. ,,Oh, guess I’ve been sleeping for some time then.. I’m so sorry. Did you find my papers? I got everything ready so you could hand them out.“ Chuckling he slowly handed you a cup. ,,It’s Christmas and you just want to work. Not even I want to work.“ As you let the water hit your mouth you followed his Movements. He took a Package from the Ground and set it aside of you. ,,Maybe this can distract you.“ Taking himself a bit back so he wouldn’t appear as intrusive as he felt like he sat back against the chair. Watching your shaking fingers opening the Package and unwrapping the robe he couldn’t hide his smile. Proud of himself but still worried about you he was glad that you still was able to wake up again. He wouldn’t admit it but he checked every potion twice that Madame Pomfrey had given you. Even though he brewed the Potions himself he wanted to make sure it was the best he could brew. Blushing you thanked him multiple times before pulling him in a hug again. Thank you, Prof- Severus. Thank you for taking care.“ Your fever still wasn’t cured yet but you were in best company and knew the best Potions Master who could help you out anytime. ,,Merry Christmas to you too.“

Taglist: @deepperplexity , @monstreviolet , @wow-life-love4

Let me know if you want to be added in my Taglist. :)

#Snapemas #snapemas2020 #Severus snape #snape #snape x reader #snape x y/n #Severus Snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #my writing #snapefiction

132 notes · View notes

benedictscanvas · 4 years ago

Text

all the wrong places [3/7] - spencer reid x reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: It only takes a moment for Spencer to realise that he doesn’t just want to marry you someday, he wants to marry you as soon as he possibly can. But since he can’t come up with a solid plan, he turns to his BAU family for help in planning the most important day of his life so far. Is that a mistake? Most definitely.

Warnings: Series probably aren’t meant to be exclusively fluffy, but this one practically is! I need some fluff in my life, damn it! There may be some mention of regular Criminal Minds things, some language but mostly just good ol’ Spence lovin’

a chapter every day for seven days! (20-26th July 2020) so please drop an ask if you’d like to be tagged <3

---

Chapter Three - Flash Failure

Third time’s a charm?

No, turns out third time’s a fucking nightmare.

Penelope? A complete liability. Whilst Spencer knew she was an amazing friend and he couldn’t imagine any of the team’s lives without her, he also now knew that allowing her to help him with the proposal plans was not his finest moment. Allowing her was too strong a word: he had simply not stopped her.

“You booked what?”

“A flash mob! And they’re coming over to the downstairs gym later today to practice with you, make sure you know your section of the dance.”

His section? Of the dance?

“I’m not sure about this, babygirl,” Derek’s voice was wary, and if Derek was worried about it, then it must really have been one of Penelope’s outlandish ideas. But she had been so excited about Spencer proposing ever since she’d found out against his will, and when she begged to at least help with the proposal somehow, it wasn’t as if Spencer had the heart to say no.

“And why would that be, my most delicious chocolate thunder? You don’t trust me now, huh?”

“You know I trust you in every way imaginable,” he said with a wink, because they could flirt even when Spencer was clearly breaking down in the corner of the batcave, “But Spencer has messed up two perfectly easy proposals now. You think he’ll nail this one?”

“I haven’t messed them up!” Spencer said defensively, his voice just a little too high pitched, “Okay, I messed one of them up, but the other one was a terrible idea provided by JJ.”

He half expected JJ to turn the corner right at that moment to scold him, but instead there was a very familiar knocking pattern at the door that caused Spencer’s heart to drop. He pushed Garcia’s shoulder until she closed all the proposal (and wedding) tabs on the computer. On all the computers.

“Can I join the top secret batcave meeting?” your voice rang out as just your head poked round the side of the door, and Spencer’s heart melted at the fact that you really weren’t going to come in unless you were told you could.

“Hi sweetheart,” he said encouragingly, as Derek and Penelope both flashed you a signature very-not-guilty, nothing-at-all-is-going-on-here, smiles. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention, smiling widely at Spencer with abandon as you entered the room.

“Hi,” you said brightly, and Derek and Penelope would be annoyed that you’d practically ignored their presence if they weren’t kind of used to it. When you and Spencer were in a room together, 90% of the time there was no one that could tear you away from each other. The other 10% was all on cases, where your attention was elsewhere, but there would still be times that the two of you bouncing theories around would completely miss something else that had been said.

“What brings you to my lair, my dear?” Penelope asked you from her chair, which she was lightly spinning around in. You managed to turn your attention to her, and bit your lip sheepishly.

“Actually, I’ve been looking for Spence here. Wondered if he might like to join me for a very romantic lunch?”

“You’ve got a consult you want my opinion on?” he asked instantly and you groaned, pouting.

“Why couldn’t I just want to spend lunchtime with my very special boyfriend?” you say wistfully, but when he gave you that look, you huffed and relented, “Fine, I’ve got a consult I could use your expert advice on. But, I did buy you takeout to sweeten the deal?”

He shook his head, his previous proposal anxieties almost forgotten as he walked up to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“You’re enough to sweeten any deal, sugar,” he said in his best Derek voice, the man himself scoffing behind him as Penelope laughed hysterically. You were giggling too under his arm, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth as Spencer led you out of the room, “Let’s go. See you later, guys.”

“Yes. 4pm in the gym for our session remember, Reid?”

“I’m not coming!” he shouted back at the two of them, already having left.

Penelope looked up at Derek as he sat on the desk above her.

“He’s definitely coming.”

“Oh yeah. He wouldn’t risk making you angry, babygirl.”

---

Actually, Spencer absolutely would risk making Garcia angry, if the other option was participating in a flash mob style dance to ‘Marry You’ by Bruno Mars before getting down on one knee in front of your chair and proposing as if what he’d just done wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

He returned to the batcave after assisting you on your consult, providing important information about a few chemical concoctions that had come into play on the case, and told Garcia on no uncertain terms that she was to cancel whatever she had planned and that he’d be doing this on his own. She reacted relatively well, even if she was a little bummed. When he promised to tell her whatever he decided to do ahead of time, she perked up a little.

So when she scurried up to his desk at the end of the day, heels clacking loudly on the floor, he never expected there to be a problem.

“We have a problem,” she said under her breath, glancing over at Hotch’s office in which you were currently sat, going over your recent performance in a routine appraisal. You’d be out in five minutes, at most. The glance she spared towards you worried Spencer more than anything.

“What kind of problem?”

“A huge one. One that I cannot explain, nor can I fix unless you and your genius brain can come up with something incredible because as it is, I’m freaking out right now.”

“Okay, Garcia, you’re going to have to try to explain it.”

“Well, maybe I can explain it,” she admitted, bobbing quietly in her place beside his desk, “But I’m not sure I want to.”

Her voice was small. Timid. She was never like this. Derek clearly noticed it too, as did Emily, since both of them came over quickly.

“Everything alright, babygirl?” Derek asked, a comforting hand on her shoulder and she reached up to put her hand over his, nuzzling into it a little. Spencer was getting more agitated by the second.

“No,” she said warily, then suddenly she ripped Derek’s hand away from her, “And I don’t deserve your comfort!”

Emily and Derek both looked dumbfounded, but Spencer stood up and took her by the elbows.

“Tell me what it is,” he said softly, but with a firm tone that she couldn’t argue against, “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”

She took a deep breath.

“Iforgottocanceltheflashmobandthey’reoutsiderightnow.”

“What?” it was all three of the others who said it. She sighed.

“I forgot to cancel the flash mob-” she said slowly, “-because Derek sent me a text right after you left my cave earlier. So they’re outside right now, with a huge picture of Y/N, waiting for her to exit the building which will trigger the...dancing.”

A pause.

“This better be a joke.”

“Oh god, just look out the window,” Garcia said sadly, resigned to her fate of the resident genius being immeasurably annoyed with her for the foreseeable future.

All four of them rushed over to the windows, even though Emily was only just starting to get an idea of what was happening. Sure enough, there was the mob. It truly was a mob too, at least fifty of them, with a huge picture of you on posterboard in the middle, all in colourful clothing. And there was a speaker. A large speaker.

“Fuck,” Spencer said, all matter of fact, no attempt to hide his language or keep it down.

“Yeah,” Derek breathed, eyes still on the ground, “How did you forget to cancel, Penelope?”

She whined, probably at him using her first name.

“You’re the one who sent me that particularly sexy text! What was I supposed to do? Not reply straight away?”

“Yes, Garcia,” Spencer said, sitting back down at his desk and putting his head in his hands, “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do. You were supposed to cancel that group of dancing idiots so I wouldn’t make a complete fool of myself in front of the woman I want to marry and then - then you could reply to Derek’s text.”

His voice was defeated. He couldn’t believe it. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this? There were other exits out of the building, most of them emergency exits, but they were still in the way of the car park. There was no way of getting out of this building without you seeing the mob outside, without seeing the gigantic picture of you on the sidewalk.

“This will not be the most helpful comment,” Emily piped up suddenly, coming over and crouching in front of Spencer’s hunched over frame, “But I have to say - I’m so happy for you and Y/N, Reid. You should have told me you were going to propose!”

“Oh yes, so you could offer the same kind of stellar advice I’ve received so far.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have suggested a mob,” she mumbled, earning her a sharp glance from Derek. Penelope was already feeling bad enough.

“Right, come on,” Derek said, more enthusiastically, “We have to make a plan. Y/L/N will be out of her meeting in no time, and asking you if you want to head home. What are you going to do?”

“Me?”

“Okay, okay - what are we going to do?”

“Yeah, we can help,” Emily said encouragingly, “We’re all in this together Reid. Maybe you should just take the opportunity and propose?”

“I am not proposing to Y/N in a flash mob!” he said, suddenly animated as he looked up, “You know how much she hates too much fuss. She’d hate it, and then, as a byproduct of that, she would hate me too and-”

“Y/N could never hate you, Spencer,” Emily said kindly, interrupting his worried rambles, “But if this isn’t the way you pictured it, that’s fine. We just have to get Y/N to your car, that’s it. So how can we do it?”

“Couldn’t Penelope just go downstairs and tell them to go away first?” Derek asked and Garcia shook her head, woefully.

“They don’t let people put them off once they’re ‘on location’,” she said, “Otherwise people against the engagement can call it off.”

“Oh, well that’s a sensible policy!” Spencer announced sarcastically, throwing his hands in the air.

“Woah there, Spence, everything alright over here?”

The one time that your voice wasn’t able to calm him down. Instead, all four of them turned to face you with thinly veiled panic, until Emily was able to speak up with an explanation.

“I went to a deli for lunch, dropped my sandwich,” she said quickly, shaking her head at her own supposed clumsiness, “But apparently they have a policy of no replacements.”

She looked to Spencer, urging him to back her up.

“Yeah, what kind of policy is that? Just makes me so mad-” he was laying it on way too thick, because you were starting to look concerned, “-because you should have got another sandwich, Emily! Ridiculous.”

He threw his arms up in the air again to drive the point home. Derek was physically wincing. This was the worst. The absolute worst.

“I think maybe someone needs some sleep,” you chuckled, reaching for Spencer’s hand and taking it in your own, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand until you felt some of the tension leave his muscles, “You ready to go?”

He hesitated, just staring at you with wide eyes.

“That tired, huh? No more sad stories about sandwiches, Em, if this is what it does to him,” you laughed, but you were stepping up your soothing gestures by the second, comfort radiating from you as you let Spencer lean into you and rested a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. He could see the worry you held for him in your eyes, “We’ll see you guys tomorrow. Come on, you.”

You tugged him along beside you as you began to walk towards the door, picking up his satchel on your way and delicately looping it over his head until it was in his rightful place. Spencer was following, but he turned his head back to the others, flashing them a help me look that was as terrified as it was desperate.

“Wait for us!” Penelope called out, tottering after the two of you in her heels, grabbing Derek and Emily by the wrists to take them with her, “We’ll all walk out together, like a family.”

“Okay,” you chuckled, shaking your head fondly, “But be quick! I think this one’s falling asleep on me.”

Penelope nodded and hurriedly shooed the others to go get their stuff, or at least whatever they could grab quickly.

“I’ll just grab some of my stuff too then, Spence,” you said gently, taking your arm from his back as if you were worried he might fall over without the support, “You okay?��

“Tired,” he said bluntly, because now he had no idea what was going on and he couldn’t keep up. His brain was firing in every direction.

“I know, baby,” you pouted, kissing him on the cheek before you sauntered off, turning as you walked, “I’ll be two seconds.”

He counted. One, two. You were a good few seconds longer, but you really did try to be quick for him. Penelope was back at his side first, even though she’d had to run to her lair to get her stuff first. “I’ve got a plan,” she said confidently, with a nod, “I got you into this mess and I’m going to get you out, Reid, I promise.”

He smiled weakly. He felt as if he had resigned himself to whatever might happen now. It was as if he’d lost his agency, like his life was continuing around him but he’d lost all say in the narrative. Penelope placed a hand on his arm, a gesture, before you, Derek and Emily emerged from the office and the five of you stepped into the elevator.

There was little small talk on the ride down. Everyone was exhausted, after all. A couple of cases in a row would do that to you, especially when you finally had a day where the adrenaline had left you and you were left to catch up on all the sleep you had missed to replenish the energy lost. Penelope was buzzing beside you though, bobbing up and down on her heels in anticipation of something, and you wondered whether she had a date or something.

Spencer rested his head against the wall. You squeezed his hand again. He could tell you were beginning to worry there was actually something wrong, that he wasn’t just tired, so he squeezed in return. That seemed to do the trick.

You were just walking out of the building waving your ‘goodbye!’s and ‘see you tomorrow!’s when Garcia squealed. Actually squealed, loudly, right in your ear before screaming as she pointed into the distance.

“Bruno Mars!”

And then she was suddenly off, sprinting into a crowd of people that all had their backs turned, looking in the direction of Penelope’s pointing. You squinted. Where? Derek and Emily shared a look behind you and ran after Penelope, pushing through the crowd and shouting themselves. Suddenly, Spencer didn’t feel so tired as he full on grinned after his friends, particularly Penelope, who had definitely more than made up for her earlier slip. He’d make sure to text her later.

“Surely she can’t have seen Bruno Mars,” you mused aloud, still stuck in place from the shock of the squeal, “Although there is a crowd, I guess.”

You shrugged, still looking carefully. Suddenly, he was worried you were going to pull him into the crowd and everything would go wrong. But you looked at him to your side, his hand still in yours and reached up with your opposite hand to push some hair behind his ear.

“Let’s get you home, mister.”

He couldn’t stop himself, even if it ruined the whole plan.

“You don’t want to see Bruno Mars?”

“No,” you laughed simply, “Not when it’s probably fake and my favourite genius looks like he’s about to fall asleep on the sidewalk.”

You tugged him with you towards the car. He followed behind you with a spring in his step he tried to disguise, glancing back at the crowd to find Penelope grinning at him, two thumbs up in air. He nodded at her. She knew she was entirely forgiven. Not that she wouldn’t have been anyway.

It only really hit him later that night, with your head resting on his chest and your hands entwined on his stomach that you loved him enough to skip out on seeing Bruno Mars, just to take care of him.

As he looked down at your sleeping face, his dopey proposal eyes were back again. There was no getting rid of them now.

---

taglist (ily all <3)

@mrs-dr-reid @soda610 @alexxcorona113 @thupidalethea @may-beforejune-afterapril @ilovesupersoldiers @hurricanejjareau @stardream14 @mortallythoughtfulgurl @aperrywilliams @saranyx @anotherspencerreidblog @thegayestdestielshipper @burkgolden @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @zozoleesi @baumindss

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff

147 notes · View notes

dr-charlie-eppes · 4 years ago

Text

SHOOTING MY SHOT - A RedFinch College AU

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, @kathreestars. I was your Secret Santa as part of the @newsies-secretsanta gift exchange.

I really hope you love your gift. It is a RedFinch College AU, as per your request. I have never written either of these things, so I hope it’s good and in character (but no promises :D!) It turned out WAY longer than expected, too :P. Oopsie daisies!

The story begins below the cut, and I will also include a link to when I have cross-posted AO3 (sometime in January).

Please enjoy!

“Shooting My Shot” - A RedFinch College AU

0000

It was the night before Albert moved out of his childhood home and went to college. He was nervous and excited and rushing through packing his boxes. Sure, he should have done this earlier, but that didn’t matter now. Folding his last sweatshirt into a box, his mind wandered.

Tomorrow was the first day of a new chapter of his life. He was about to move to New York City to study paediatrics, starting his career as a children’s nurse. It was what he’d wanted for years; he was more than happy it was coming true. All the same, he was full of nervous energy. The next few days held so many unknowns. He was struggling to wrap his head around what was going to happen next.

A small mountain of pristine cardboard boxes, a visual representation of what mattered enough to bring with him, lay before him. Each was adorned with a great many strips of duct tape to keep them shut. He hadn’t labelled any of them since he would just unpack them the second he arrived, and he only had to open them to know what was inside. It seemed like a waste of time to go digging through his things to find a Sharpie to deface the boxes.

His phone dinged twice is quick succession. One was from Jack, letting him know he was on his way over from next door. They were travelling to college together in the morning, seeing as they had made it into the same school. The second was from Race, wishing him luck.

Race had been Albert’s best friend since kindergarten. They hadn’t spent more than about three days apart since they met, living in each other’s back pockets and practically joined at the hip for as long as anyone could remember. They had planned on going to the same school, rooming together through college. However, Race had been accepted last minute to his dream school in Brooklyn and was leaving Albert, following his passion for dance. Albert wasn’t mad, not at all; in fact, he was thrilled for his friend. Brooklyn wasn’t that far, so he was sure they’d see each other often. However, without Race, he wasn’t sure who he’d be rooming with.

Continuing to pack his boxes, Albert’s mind wandered to his roommate situation. He was, admittedly, nervous. Without Race, he would be rooming with an unknown student. By the time he’d worked that out, the deadline had passed to submit a request to be paired with someone specific; He would be added to the lottery to be paired up at random with his new roommate. He was worried about that: sharing his space with a whole stranger, stuck together in close quarters, learning to get along. What if he was paired with someone disrespectful, or homophobic, or creepy, or just plain annoying? Albert knew he could be hard to get along with, tending to mistime jokes and miss queues, rubbing people the wrong way. He could sabotage their relationship without even knowing. And even if he didn’t, that didn’t guarantee it’d be smooth sailing. They might not get along, but what could they do? They’d be stuck together for at least two semesters. Dorm rooms were sometimes roomy, but not enough to avoid each other.

The anxiety wasn’t productive: Albert knew that. He couldn’t help it. Change was hard; he didn’t feel ready.

And Jack Kelly was not helping matters. Sure, Jack was one of his best friends - basically a brother, really - but he was an ass. He would do anything to embarrass or inconvenience Albert. That was in part due to their prank war, which had started in ninth grade when Jack replaced his gym shorts with a purple tutu and was still going strong on their first day of college. Of course, he’d never miss an opportunity to get Albert back. Nothing was sacred, no object or situation safe from Jack’s interference. All things considered, Albert should have seen this coming.

Jack offered to help him carry them to the car; there were a few, and it was already late, so Albert accepted. That was his first mistake. Jack took one look at them and started goading him.

“You should label your boxes, Al.” He said as he picked them up.

“No.”

Then, on the landing, “How are you gonna know what’s in ‘em? It’ll be a pain to unpack.”

“I know what I packed, Jack.”

“They look naked without labels.” He whined as they walked out the front door.

“Shut up.”

They started to load them into the car, slotting them in the trunk with the lightest ones on top.

“What kind of psychopath just puts their stuff in a box and closes it up?” Jack questioned with an edge of challenge.

Albert rolled his eyes, taking a medium sized box - possibly containing his desk lamp - and stacking it on top of the others.

“This ain’t a pass-the-parcel, Al, you’re allowed to know what’s in the box.”

“If you don’t shut up, Jackie, so help me, you’ll be trying to run without kneecaps.”

The seemingly endless prods and pokes continued as they loaded all his unlabelled boxes into the car. Jack continued his stream of nonsense, his arguments devolving into snipes and jabs. Albert shut the trunk forcefully, fixing Jack with a look.

“I ain’t labelling ‘em,” he stated with finality, “I know what I packed, and I’ll just unpack when I get there. If they ain’t labelled, Ma can reuse the boxes for something else later without having to scratch the writing out. It’s just easier.”

Jack gave him an unconvinced look but shrugged and let it go. Al should’ve known that was suspicious. Jack never could back down from an argument. Why would this one have been any different?

His second mistake was leaving the car unlocked. They lived in a good area; there wasn’t any reason to lock it. Besides, who would want to steal a bunch of blank boxes full of sweatshirts and towels? However, this turned out to be his downfall. The lock was the only barrier between Jack and his boxes, the last defence. Without needing to steal Al’s mom’s keys, there was nothing standing in his way. He was free to wreak havoc on his things.

His third mistake was not checking his boxes in the morning. They were in a hurry to get on the road - which was not unusual - so Al planned ahead and double checked everything when he brought the boxes down. He knew he had everything he needed, saving time in the morning. Without those last minute checks, he had no chance of catching Jack's little prank before they arrived at the campus.

Jack hadn’t let on that anything had happened. Crammed in the back seat, surrounded by his own boxes and bags, he appeared to the world perfectly angelic. Well, as angelic as Jack Kelly could be. In truth, he was the same snarky and sarcastic man he’d always been, cracking jokes like normal. Albert had no reason to suspect a thing.

So you could imagine his shock and regret when he lifted the trunk to find his boxes, all labelled in Jack’s scratchy block letters with obscene and embarrassing labels. Roadkill - California to Texas. Grandma’s ashes - This way up! (Decorated with arrows pointing to the bottom of the box, naturally). Meditation CDs - Pokémon, Ru Paul, My Little Pony. And right on the top, the Crown Jewels of Jack Kelly’s mayhem: Dildos - Size M-XL.

It was hard to embarrass Albert - it really was. He’d spent his high school years being tormented and humiliated by Jack and had grown a tolerance for this kind of thing. Carrying a box labelled ‘dildos’ across campus was far from the worst thing he’d ever had to do. However, he did worry about what his roommate might think. If he was worried about being paired with a weirdo, others must be too. This was one of those first impressions you couldn’t take back. Joy of joys.

Undeterred, he grabbed the box and braced for impact. Making his way swiftly and unashamedly to his dorm, he ignored the stares and snickers of his peers. Look at my box of dildos, folks. Take it in. They could have guessed that this was a prank, but the surprise of it still caught most of them off guard. Albert pressed on through the crowds, rolling his eyes.

If they can’t tell that this is a joke, then they ain’t smart enough for college.

He just hoped his roommate could see the humour in it.

Speaking of his roommate, he rounded the final corner with his package. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see shadows moving under the door. Taking one final, bracing breath, Albert shuffled the box onto his forearm and pushed the door, embracing his fate.

A trick of timing, the universe’s cruel joke, caused Albert to enter the doorway at the precise moment that his new roommate fired a sticky dart from his Nerf gun. The dart shot through the air. It travelled with a great deal more speed than it should, zipping through the room. No doubt it would have continued into the hall had the doorway been empty. However, it was stopped by Albert’s moving box, adhering at the dead centre of the “O” in dildos.

All movement and sound stopped as Albert looked eyes with his new roommate.

What a first impression.

0000

Moments earlier, Finch had been alone in his dorm. The last few weeks had been a blur of emotions, and he was trying to wrap his mind around it before his new roommate arrived. His first impressions were often lacking, and he hoped that he could start out this relationship on the right foot.

His decision to come to this school had been rushed. Life had spiralled out of control, leaving bad blood between him and his folks. He got an offer to move here to Manhattan, far from them, and he jumped on it. His new life was stretched out in front of him. King of his own destiny, he surveyed his territory. And sure, a cramped college dorm room that he had to share with a stranger wasn’t much of a kingdom. But the hum of the radiator sounded like freedom, and the carpet was soft. He could learn to be happy here.

He was already unpacked, all three of his boxes piled up in the corner. In his hand, he held six plastic Nerf targets. He’d bought them at the dollar store in the ninth grade, using sharpshooting as an escape from life. Since then, his skills had grown, and he frequently moved them around to give himself more of a challenge. Mapping the room, he weighed his options. He was, of course, limited to his side of the room, which made it harder to place them in a way that would challenge him. Still, he was resourceful. And maybe his new friend - he really hoped they would get along - might let him spread them around a bit.

There was one classic place, though. In all the time he’d had these targets, one place stayed constant. He went and hung the first bullseye at the dead centre of the door on the inside. He could hit it with his eyes closed, in his sleep, or with his hands tied behind his back, but he didn’t care. The target on the door had been the most stable relationship he’d had in years, always there, always within reach.

He dumped the rest of the targets on his bed, liberating his Nerf gun from his backpack. It had been his first, and it was the favourite of his whole collection. Modelled like a sawed-off shotgun, it was easy to aim and familiar. He’d carried it with him everywhere since he’d gotten it. This little green and orange eyesore was practically an extra limb, an extension of Finch himself. He’d gotten more high-power guns since, ones that could throw darts faster than he could blink, but he loved this one the best.

Loading in a sticky dart, he aimed for the door and pulled the trigger.

In a statistically remarkable series of events, someone pushed the door open at the precise moment he pulled the trigger. They got in the path of the dart, the new target of the shot. Thankfully, the person was carrying a box - otherwise, they would have been hit square in the chest; not exactly a great first impression. The dart, however, sailed gracefully through the room and stuck to the stranger’s box with a satisfying sticking noise. It lined up perfectly with the writing on the box, centred in the middle of one of the letters. If he’d been aiming for it, Finch would have been impressed with his shot. As it stood, he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Bullseye, I guess.

0000

Both men stood, frozen in time. All the sound had been sucked from the room, leaving only a thick silence. Neither was sure what to do to break it. Albert wanted speak - he really did. Wanted to laugh, introduce himself, settle in. However, his mouth was dry, and any words died before they could reach his throat, all systems at a standstill. He couldn’t even walk through the door for fear he would break the spell.

Why? Well, the man in front of him - his new roommate, the one holding the Nerf gun - was insanely hot.

He looked like a Renaissance painting. Classically beautiful, without being plain. A long thin face that reminded Albert distantly of a horse, smooth angles that caught the light and held it. Bright pearlescent teeth and unnaturally brown eyes. He looked as if he had stolen the light from the sun, soaking in its warmth and making it his own. All his brightness and sharpness was contrasted with his soft, green sweatshirt and bare feet, the picture of domesticity. All of it was at odds with the keenness of his shot, the Nerf gun still aimed dangerously at Albert’s chest. Nonetheless, every inch of him was beautiful.

Of all the things he’d been afraid of, falling in love with his roommate was the least expected.

He was suddenly a lot more worried about his first impression.

0000

He needn’t have worried: because on the opposite side of the dorm, the same things were going through Finch’s head.

Finch had always been a sucker for a redhead; the man in front of him, with his strikingly fiery curls, was no exception. Every line of his face was beautiful - from the creases around his eyes to his goofy grin. His eyes were a sweet brown, like Nutella or hot cocoa, deep and inviting. They caught the light like a Pokémon trainer catches them all. His lips were pulling slowly out of a grin into a shocked gape. Even in his confusion, he was breathtaking. His arms cradled his moving box like Cupid cradles his bow - invitingly and full of undiscovered love. His legs were obviously strong, judging by the way his jeans were stretched over them.

Finch couldn’t move or breathe or look away. He needed to lower his Nerf gun, introduce himself and explain, something, anything. Instead, he stood, transfixed and in awe. If this man were the moon, then Finch were the tides - unable to move without his say-so. His every thought was directed by this beautiful stranger.

His new roommate.

His roommate.

His.

That snapped him out of it.

0000

The beautiful stranger cleared this throat.

“Sorry!”

“Nice shot,” whispered Albert.

The stranger smiled, brushing the back of his neck. He spoke again.

“Uh, hi?”

Albert nodded. That was exactly what he’d been trying to say.

“Hi.”

A moments more of silence settled around them. Neither was entirely sure how to come back from that introduction, and both were too transfixed by the other to risk saying the wrong thing.

Albert eventually found his courage. Shuffling his moving box onto one arm, he extended his hand in greeting.

“I’m Albert.”

Tossing his Nerf gun to his bed, the stranger followed suit.

“Patrick, but the guys back home called me Finch.”

“Why 'Finch'?” Albert asked.

“I put a bird in the principal’s office 'cause he was homophobic,” the boy - Finch - shrugged, “It’s my greatest achievement to date.”

Albert didn’t know if he could fall more in love than he was already. His heart felt like it might explode. This adorable, Nerf-gun shooting, homophobe-hating man was all he could think about. He was distantly aware that he needed to bring his stuff in from the car, needed to put down the dildo box and unpack, but he was happy just standing in the doorway watching Finch.

However, his standing was misinterpreted by his new crush, who suddenly smacked his forehead and stepped to the side.

“Oh, sorry, I’m totally blocking the way. Come in.” He swept his hands to the side like a waiter, ushering Albert in.

He took his chance, stepping in and putting his box on the empty bunk. It tipped merrily onto one side, revealing another of Jack’s secret messages. Albert flopped his head back with a groan. Finch caught sight of the new scribble as well. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

Albert excused himself to get the rest of his boxes from the car, but also so he could get some fresh air. Finch was beautiful and badass. He was unlike any other guy Albert had met. If he blew his chance with him, well, he’d never forgive himself. He might be getting ahead of himself, but he kept wondering what Finch might look like in a tux and what song their first dance would be to. His mom had always called him a hopeless romantic, so had Jack. He was inclined to agree. He loved the idea of falling in love and marrying his favourite person ever, having a husband to share life’s moments with. And yeah, he’d only known Finch for ten minutes, but every fibre of his being seemed to think this guy was the perfect candidate.

He daydreamed all the way back to the dorm, trying to think of something charming to say to Finch. A pickup line? Or maybe some poetry. Where was Jack when you needed him? That man could charm the pants off of anyone. Although, from memory, he and Davey met when Jack accidentally tipped his paint water out over the art room balcony and all over Davey’s head.

As he stepped through the door of his dorm, he took a breath and prepared to ask Finch out. However, his new roommate was already speaking, pointing at the box on his bed.

“Okay, I gotta ask-“

“-It’s not dildos, I swear,” Albert cut him off.

“-who defaced your box?”

“Oh.” Wasn’t expecting that. “Um, Jack. Pain in my ass.”

Finch nodded, snickering, and gestured the box in Albert’s arms. This one read TIME MACHINE - DISASSEMBLED.

“So is he ya boyfriend or something?”

“Oh, fuck no.” Albert laughed - imagine him dating Jack, yuck - and clarified, “He’s sorta my brother? Lived next door to me and my Ma. He’s just up the hall now, helping Davey unpack.”

“Davey?”

“Jack’s boyfriend,” Albert shrugged. He wondered what Davey saw in Jack but decided not to think too hard. Davey was a least twice as smart as Albert would ever be; he would have his reasons. He expressed this to Finch, who laughed and offered a similar anecdote about a friend called Spot who was dating some extroverted Manhattan twink with a sarcastic streak a mile wide.

“They’re perfect for each other because no one can understand them,” Finch smiled, “the peanut butter and jelly of people.”

They continued to laugh and talk about their friends, bonding over their weird friends with weirder names.

Albert ducked out for more boxes. He moved every crass title from his car to his dorm, unpacking them as he went to discover their real contents. Finch offered the help him carry them back to his mom’s car when they were empty.

On the way, he asked about Jack’s prank again.

“So, Jack’s a prankster?”

Albert nodded, “Yeah, we’ve had a prank war going since the ninth grade.”

“War, huh?” Finch raised an eyebrow. “How you’re gonna get him back?”

“No idea yet, but it’s gonna be big.”

Finch was sure that it would be. He told Albert as such.

“Let me know if you’ll be wanting help,” he smiled, playfully elbowing his ribs, “I’m a sharpshooter, after all.”

Albert wasn’t sure how that would come in handy, but he filed it away for later use.

0000

In their first week together, they circled around each other, teasing and testing. It was an easy tension of learning each other’s habits and personalities.

As it turned out, Finch was a troublemaker. With his keen eye and trained aimed, he and his Nerf gun could wreak all kinds of havoc. Albert found himself stuck with more darts than he’d ever seen. He learned to listen for the quiet ‘snick’ sound of the gun being loaded, hyper aware of the bright orange darts as they landed around him.

Finch used his talents for good, sometimes, shooting bananas off the hand with a carefully modified ‘knife dart’ - which turned out to be a Nerf dart with a straightened out paper clip in it. He could also switch the lights off from his bunk with one flick of the trigger. Both were pretty cool tricks, but Al found himself loving Finch’s cheeky moves more.

He had returned to the dorm after class to find that Finch had used his posters as target practice, using strategically placed darts to block out certain letters and leave crude messages for him. The next day, he was greeted with a flurry of darts as he entered the room, Finch raining down on him with his most quick-firing gun. He also left Albert notes on the dorm door, where anyone could read them - thanks for letting me borrow your toothbrush! and Adam from the butt-lift place called - they can fix your pancake butt! and Where’s the haemorrhoid cream?

Albert loved it. In return, he reset Finch’s ringtones to weird and embarrassing sounds and short-sheeted his bed. He also stole Finch’s hats and sweatshirts, basically combining their wardrobes into one mega-wardrobe. He also replaced all of Finch’s stationery with sticks of gum, which turned out to be less of a prank and more of a genius ice-breaking hack.

They grew closer. All the pranks led to them getting to know each other’s likes and dislikes, their insecurities and routines. The more Albert learnt, the more he wanted to know. Finch was becoming his best friend. The crush he was nursing grew into a warm and unexplainable thing. Each passing day brought new moments of friendship and growth. Finch challenged him, distracted him, entertained him. He was bright and annoying, glued to his hip like a loyal puppy and floating around him. Albert grew to love his company, loved how he would ask questions while you studied - that was more helpful than he could have known, helping Albert to identify the gaps in his knowledge. Finch was the puzzle piece he had been missing.

Finch felt the same, although Albert didn’t know that. He loved the way that Albert would respond to his cheek and snark with jibes of his own. Albert enjoyed his pranks and put thought and time into retaliating. He was quieter than Finch, happy to just share the room with you without needing conversation to fill the void. He seemed to light up when Finch asked him questions, explaining the complex medical topics he was learning. He was full of adrenaline and grace, not often static. Finch found himself following Albert’s movements when he paced, drawn in. Albert was his muse. He couldn’t get enough of the beautiful redhead.

0000

At the opening of their second week, Albert returned to their dorm with a twinkle in his eye and a bagel in his hand. Finch, with Nerf gun in hand, shot a dart into the hole of the bagel.

“You!” Pointed Albert.

“Me?” Questioned Finch playfully.

“How would you like to help me get back at Jack?”

Finch nodded, “I’m in. What’s the play?”

As it turned out, Jack had planned a secret date for Davey. They hadn’t had a lot of time since coming to college, so Jack wanted to do something nice. He’d told Albert that he and Davey were going to have a picnic on the sports fields in the evening. Super romantic, at least it was supposed to be.

“I want to crash their party,” explained Albert, “but I need your help.”

He then explained that they needed a way to get in and out fast. If they lingered, Jack’s wrath would rain down upon them. Speed is of the element, Finchy, Albert had said. Luckily, Albert had become sort-of friends with one of the security guards. This guard, Denton, agreed to ‘accidentally’ leave the keys in one of the school’s golf carts for their use. As long as they returned it in one piece, no one would be the wiser.

“Where do I come in, Al?”

“I want you to get your best Nerf gun -one o’ those ones that shoot really fast. While I'm driving, I want you to spray ‘em with darts. I got some toilet paper to throw. I just didn’t think that was enough. Plus, you’ve got a wicked sense of aim. I could use a little help.”

It was a solid plan. Like Jack’s box prank, it wouldn’t hurt anyone. Albert assured him Davey would think it was funny too. He was almost as much a part of the war as Jack or Albert. If anything, he'd take it as an invitation to get his own revenge. No one’s day’s gonna be ruined.

“I’m your guy,” smiled Finch, “when do we start.”

“We ride at six. Wear something stealthy.”

0000

Six o'clock rolled around quickly. Finch had ducked out to the dollar store, picking up some more sticky darts. When he returned, he found Albert. His crazy roommate was dressed like a cartoon cat-burglar, complete with a black turtleneck and war paint. He was hastily stuffing toilet rolls into his backpack. They were armed to the teeth with Nerf darts, toilet paper, and biodegradable party confetti.

“Looking good, Al,” laughed Finch.

He was also dressed for the occasion, a mismatched all-black ensemble. He even opted for some fingerless gloves he saw at the store. He had never been one to half-ass a prank. Besides, going all out might impress Albert.

“Ready?”

“Born ready, Finch.”

“Funny, I thought you were born ‘Albert.’”

A roll of toilet paper hit him in the head.

0000

The plan was in motion.

Denton had left the cart parked by the dormitories. They were set to go, just waiting for confirmation that Jack was in position. Sure enough, Davey posted a sappy picture on his Snapchat story, toting Jack’s merits as a caring boyfriend. They were clearly on the sports field, spread out on an honest-to-goodness checked rug, picnic basket and all. The sunset painted pastel lines behind them.

As the light of sunset faded to night, they started up the cart. Crammed in with the ammo and a truly gigantic nerf gun, Albert and Finch were pressed into each other’s sides. Unbeknownst to them, both were enjoying the contact, pining for more than just the necessary contact of the cart. They drove at agonisingly slow speeds towards the sports fields, staying in the cover of the shadows of the campus. If they were caught, it would all be over. Luckily, the pair thrived on adrenaline.

Their trip to the sports fields was short and silent. Albert couldn’t help but hold his breath as if the sound of it might give their location away. It didn’t occur to him that the sounds of the cart would get them caught before his breathing would. Finch kept directing him with hand signals, guiding the cart through a maze of secret tunnels that kept them hidden.

Eventually, the great secrecy of it all got the better of them. Albert could picture them, both dressed like the bad guys in a cartoon spy movie, zooming through the campus with reckless abandon. They weren’t going fast at all - he thought it might not even bruise if he fell out of the cart. But here they were, leaning and ducking with each move as if they were in a Fast and Furious movie. Finch was holding onto the roof to stabilise himself. They were surrounded be a hoard of completely harmless weapons, yet they acted as if they were heading into a war. That last thought, along with the image of what they must look like, cause Albert to giggle.

Once.

Twice.

A snort.

Then Finch started.

Their silent voyage was overrun with laughter. Finch was shaking, trying to contain his sounds. Albert was hiccuping out barks of laughter. The noise grew until it drowned out the hum of engines. Try as they might, there was no stopping it. Tears filled Albert’s eyes. Finch took hold of the wheel and directed the cart as he snorted. They continued on, the most joyful caravan in the country. They couldn’t stop their noise until they saw the sports fields.

It was a bracing and sobering experience. Two weeks of thinking and planning had led them to this. The importance of their mission overcame their joy. They pulled their adrenaline back in, the noise level dropping below the noise of the cart. It was time.

The light from the fake tea light candles on the rug guided them. A moment of quiet and a few hand gestures revealed that there would be no way to sneak up on them. The cart was too big, the moon too bright. The element of surprise would be lost too quickly if they approached cautiously. Albert made the motion for ‘step on it’, pressing his palm out in front of him. Finch nodded. Mouthing the words, Albert counted down from three. He threw the golf cart into gear, shredding across the lawn at max speed.

The pickup in speed caused them both to shout. Any semblance of sneaking in was abandoned as Albert and Finch began a deafening war cry of whooping and cheering. They bounced across the field, the cart shaking with effort. One hand on the wheel, Albert loaded himself with a roll of toilet paper. Finch aimed his Nerf scope, fixed on the happy couple.

Jack caught sight of them too late.

“ALBERT!”

A shower of Nerf darts cut off his cries. Albert hit him square in the chest with a roll of paper. Davey, shocked and excited, burst out gleefully at the shower of multicoloured confetti, picking up handfuls and tossing them at his boyfriend.

The drive-by took only a few seconds. There was chaos as they unloaded all they had at Albert’s friends. It would long be remembered as the highlight of the whole prank war. The picnic rug, previously set out romantically with breadsticks and candles, was now littered with darts and rolls of paper and a sprinkling of reflective paper strips. It was glorious. Strangely, it looked like the leftover mess from a child’s birthday party. In Albert’s eyes, this was perfect revenge.

“That’s for the boxes, Kelly!” He screamed as they sped off.

The cart barrelled across the fields and out of sight, leaving Jack and Davey in its wake. The boys, happy with their successful mission, tore off into the night in fits of giggles once more. They didn’t stop until they were well out of sight. Only when they had pulled the cart to a stop outside the security office did they finally calm down.

Pressed close and sweating awfully, they breathed through the rush of adrenaline. The whole evening had come to a crescendo. They both smiled, calming down.

“That was awesome,” Albert laughed, “Thank you, Finchy.”

Finch slung an arm around him, “Always, Al.”

They stayed intertwined for a second. Albert liked the feel of being so close to Finch, tucked into his chest safe and warm. He didn’t want to pull away, but he was becoming more aware of how close they were. This was closer than friends. He was sure Finch knew that.

Pulling back, he looked to his roommate.

“Finch?”

“Hmm?”

He took a deep breath. It was now or never. He was going to say something.

“Would ya like it if we-“

He was cut off by Finch’s lips on his.

Oh, yeah, let’s do that.

His brain went offline, surprised by the kiss. Finch’s lips were dry from the cold night air but soft and cool against his own. He could feel the flush of Finch’s cheeks. He gasped through his noise - a noise of shock and approval.

Finch pulled back as he tried to reciprocate. He looked him cautiously in the eyes.

“I sure hope I didn’t read that wrong.”

Albert chuckled. He pulled him in by the shirt, nearly tipping Finch out of the cart with his enthusiasm. This kiss was perfect. Longer and deeper than the other, they were chest to chest by the end. They weren’t yet used to this motion, so their chins and noses bumped as they moved, prompting little giggles between their lips. It was the happiest kiss Albert had ever had. Finch was warm and close and all his for a few moments.

Finch bit his nip with a mock growl, pulling back to smile at him. Albert looked flushed and overwhelmed. However, the smile that split his face betrayed his emotions.

“I hope that’s my last first kiss ever,” Finch whispered.

Albert looked shocked, but his smile didn’t fade.

“Okay,” he nodded.

They tumbled out of the cart a minute later. They knew that wasn’t the end of it. Finch was sure he wanted to marry Albert, but there was more to do. They needed to get to know each other more and finish college and meet each other’s families. They weren’t at the end yet, but this was a damn good place to start.

They walked back to the dorm with hands intertwined. No matter what happened next, Albert knew this was the start of a beautiful life.

0000

He was right, too. He and Finch got married six years later, after college. Never had there been a better couple, better friends, or better lovers. They had grown into the most badass and unstoppable team.

They drove away from their wedding with cans tied to the back of a golf cart.

0000

Again, happy holidays and seasons greetings, @kathreestars. Hope this is everything you hoped for. Best wishes, Corbin.

#Newsies!#newsies secret santa #for @kathreestars #gift exchange 2020 #redfinch #Albert Dasilva/Finch #college AU

23 notes · View notes

thirsty-x1 · 5 years ago

Text

midnight meal | Han Seungwoo

Request:

Maybe you can write about Seungwoo being reunited with his gf after a world tour🥺 and that it will be pure fluff because sometimes you need a Uwu instead of a sin - ⚛️ anon

↬ Pairing: Seungwoo x gn!reader.

↬ Genre: Fluff.

↬ Warnings: none.

↬ Word Count: 2.4k

↬ Song Recommendation: "midnight meal" by Crucial Star. Please check it out! All of his songs are extremely wonderful and the lyrics are top tier uwu.

It had grown to be a usual thing you both did now. You knew you were going to see him later on, but the anxiety would tickle the tip of your fingers each time he came back, and this time it wasn’t for less: Seungwoo had gone on a worldwide tour, being away from you for months that ended up becoming much longer than just one eternity.

The airport was filled with quite a lot of people, the fans aiming their cameras at the seven boys entering the doors. The group had gained a lot of attention in the past year, and even if you were happy about it, there was no use in denying that you miss him like crazy each time he is away or that he is busy preparing for promotions.

One particular scream of his name suddenly caught your attention and brought you back to reality, noticing a tall boy smiling sweetly at the fans, his eyes focusing on you just for a second before continuing to greet the rest of the people there and you wondered if he had recognized you despite the mask covering your face. The flashes were almost blinding, making it hard for them to see clearly, but even then you could notice that your boyfriend would try to steal glances to you, your heart warming up as you took the subtle gesture as his way to say “yes, I see you”.

Although you didn’t want to, you decided to start walking towards the exit, knowing that it would be too messy to go later and it might lift suspicion if you left at the same time as they did. You drove the car, your eyes constantly checking the mirrors as if to confirm that no one had noticed anything weird with you and as usual, there was nothing to be seen other than the lights of other cars.

Almost an hour later, you were curled up in front of the TV, not paying any attention to the movie playing as you scrolled down your phone’s screen, liking the pictures of the recent event where you had gone, appreciating the previews where you could see Seungwoo’s crescent-like eyes whenever he smiled kindly at the fans. It was genuine, you knew, and in order to be able to see that smile more often, you began your usual late night labor: clearing the searches. Even if many loved the group, there was quite another bunch that didn’t and another that didn’t particularly like your boyfriend, and did they work hard in making it noticeable. Somehow, it became a routine: every night before you fell asleep, you would use the fake fan account you had created to read the rumors, rarely ever replying and instead reporting the accounts that spread them.

The message popping up at the top of the screen distracted you and calmed you down, easing the knot in your throat while tightening it at the same time. You got up, fixing your hair and your outfit a bit before listening to the small knock on your door, almost running to it and opening it a bit to see the familiar figure. Seungwoo was there, although his eyes were fixed on the sides of the corridor to make sure that no one was around, but as soon as you poked his chest, his attention was on you again.

“Can I come in?” His head tilted to a side, hair covering his eyes but could sense his smile behind the mask covering half his face.

You opened the door a bit more, sighing and tapping your chin with one finger in thought. “Hmm, I’m not sure… my boyfriend always says to not let strangers in.”

He snorted a bit, lowering his mask only to wrap his arms around your waist and picking you up in a swift movement while closing the door behind him as he pressed his lips against you. It was a sweet, brief second, but enough to have you completely melted. When he was about to pull away, you held him tighter, and now it was Seungwoo’s turn to feel the way his cheeks blushed at the simple action.

Of course he was grateful to have the opportunity to take his music to an international level, but being right there between your arms brought him the same feeling of satisfaction and happiness as performing on the stage. It made him feel good to know that you had missed him just as much as he had missed you, there was no need for him to hear that from your mouth, he simply knew: the way your breath felt shaky as he hugged you, how you buried your face on his chest, the tiny sob you let out when he stroked your head, it all showed just how much you loved him.

The magical moment was broken by Seungwoo’s stomach grumbling, the unexpected sound making both of you laugh and interrupt the tears that threatened to fall down your faces.

“Should we order some food?”

You nodded at his proposal, quickly dialing the number and five minutes later, Seungwoo was telling you all about the tour while waiting for the delivery to get there, cuddling with you on the sofa. From the experience in the hotels to how the boys behaved and he had to take care of each single thing, to the day that they were reprimanded because of the screaming (caused by him) or about how he had managed to write a song in just one day, or the sleepless nights he spent working without a break, or how he almost fell during a performance or how insecure he felt when his voice cracked during a practice. He wasn’t really the type to speak a lot, he himself had acknowledged it multiple times in the past, but when it came to you… it seemed as if he felt the need to vent out about every single detail, and you loved it. Seungwoo noticed when he spoke too much, some kind of inner switch advising him to shut up once and for all, but each time he searched for any sign of you being tired or uncomfortable on your face, he didn’t find any. Maybe that was the reason; he never felt like you didn’t want to listen to him, your eyes always fixed on his, reacting to each of his stories accordingly and encouraging him to keep telling you. It made him feel comfortable, and since he was used to being the lending ear, it was soothing for him to be able to do the same with someone else, especially if that someone was his partner.

Right as he was approaching to the end of the narration, you received a message notifying that the food had arrived. Seungwoo offered to go and pick it up by instinct, and it was necessary that you reminded him he couldn’t be seen now, his ears blushing a bit when he realized his silly mistake making him adorable as you leaned in and kissed his cheek. When you got back with the food, he had already brought everything that was necessary to the coffee table, the gesture making it feel as if he had never left.

While you two eat on the snacks after finishing dinner, you choose a movie, Seungwoo saying he’s incredibly full and thinking to his insides of how much he will have to work out in order to lose all that, but he couldn’t really give much thought about it. His attention switched to you, to the slightly noticeable bags under your eyes despite your efforts to cover them, to the way your face looked slimmer and how you felt a bit thinner between his arms, a small sense of worry starting to form in his heart. All of his suspicions were cleared when he saw the screen of your phone showing the searches while you were trying to show him some of the pictures his fan sites had taken earlier.

Seungwoo tried to not say anything about it, preferring to just try and work harder so that you would not have to worry about that kind of things. It wasn’t something he had never heard off, actually; almost on a daily basis he would scroll past news and comments with his name, and although it did hurt him and annoyed him to some extent, seeing his fans defending him and doing their best in order for him to not suffer gave him an infinite source of strength. However, as much as he appreciated, he couldn’t bare seeing you in this state and imagining that it must be the same one as his fans…

“You shouldn’t do that.” The clueless look you gave him was enough for him to understand he should elaborate a bit more. “You haven’t been resting enough reading at that kind of things...”

A nervous laugh was all you let out. “It’s not that big of a deal, I still take care of myself.”

“There is no need to protect me like this.” It was abrupt, cutting you off all of a sudden. “I mean, I know you are doing it for me but… we shouldn’t pay attention to them at all.”

The knot in your throat came back seeing the change in your boyfriend’s attitude. “Yes… yes, you’re right… they do have very shitty arguments, anyway.”

His throaty laugh vibrated against your back and you proceeded to discuss some of the silly things you two had read out there, making fun of them and trying to turn a negative situation into a more positive one. While staring at the pictures, a comment you read recently came to your mind.

“Why are you always covering your face during lives? Fans have been a little bit sad about it…”

Seungwoo scratched the back of his neck. “I’m still not super confident without make up on… my skin…”

Sighing, you got up, ignoring his questions as you went to search some creams and filled a bowl with warm water. Once everything was settled up, you sat on the floor, patting on your crossed legs and he smiled slightly, resting his head on top of them as you started to clean his face. He wasn’t too fond of taking care of his skin, so you had done this for him a few times before, massaging his skin while also falling in love with his facial gestures.

“You are beautiful.” His eyes looked up and met with yours, blushing a bit when he processed your words. “Everything about you is beautiful, and fans think the same way, so you shouldn’t worry about that. With or without make up, you are still my gorgeous Han Seungwoo.”

It was obvious he was trying hard not to cringe while also squirming at your words, but it was necessary and even if he acted like that now, he would later remember those words and get all fuzzy. Seungwoo knew it as well, maybe that was the reason why he tried to avoid you complimenting him so much, because he would smile like a dummy out of nowhere and the members would tease him about it forever.

You continued with the routine not without placing a small kiss on the top of his nose, but Seungwoo couldn’t manage to not look at you, the angle resulting funny to him but also feeling tingly on the inside that someone took so much care of him. Moments like these were the ones he missed the most; simple, daily things were what he reminded the most when he was alone or when he couldn’t see you, and it was more than enough for him to be filled with happiness. In a certain way, he hoped you felt the same way in his presence, although you would text him pretty often about the times when you suddenly thought of him.

Last time you had checked your phone, not much had happened, but now it seemed like four hours had flew by without any of you noticing. It was pretty late, and you knew he would have to go soon, otherwise his manger would end up locking him outside the dorms… but if that meant he could stay with you for the night, then it might be worth it, at least for you.

Seungwoo was starting to get ready, quickly grabbing his coat and getting ready when you held his hand tightly.

“Do you really have to go?” He gave you a sad look, but before he replied, you added: “It has been a very, very long time since you stayed… I will personally call your manager and ask for permission, can I?”

How could he say no when he wanted the same thing? And he was aware that his schedule didn’t have anything important the next day or at least, not happening early, and his manager wouldn’t be able to resist your cuteness. It was a technique that had worked in the past, and it had been quite long since the last time you had tried it, so…

It worked. Of course it would work, and now Seungwoo was giggling next to you, struggling to get the blanket to cover his feet as you two snuggled in the almost small bed. His body was curled up right next to yours, holding you close while muttering a few “thank you”s in your ear, and even if you had put all of your effort into it, you couldn’t help but to feel drowsy at his warmth surrounding you. It was the first time in months where you didn’t have to worry about maintaining yourself awake waiting for his good night message, and feeling safe and sound.

“You can sleep, love… I’m quite tired too, so don’t worry about it…” A yawn interrupted his comforting and you smiled.

“I don’t think I can without a lullaby.”

He laughed tiredly, proceeding to sing, but after a few minutes his voice dropped to a slight murmur before you could hear a soft snore. You were getting sleepy too, a wave of calm washing over you as you could felt Seungwoo hugging you tightly while burying his face on the crook of your neck, placing a small kiss that sent shivers down your spine before going back to sleep, dragging you along with him into it.

yes, my shots always finish with everyone sleeping because that’s what true love looks like and also this is super messy and didn’t know how to finish it but I hope it doesn’t suck too much

~Nani

| Navigation |

230 notes · View notes

nikibogwater · 4 years ago

Text

“Feline Paralysis”--a Tales of Arcadia fanfiction

Feline Paralysis (def): A state of immobility caused by the presence of a cat on top of one's person.

Archie's boy has been working himself too hard ever since Merlin took them in, and Archie is determined to put a stop to it by any means necessary.

It is Soft Douxie-Archie Friendship Hours, my dears. @poetryinmotion-author gave me the prompt, and I think I may have taken it way further than even she was expecting, so....yeah, buckle up, it’s time for some Feels. 🙃

Read on AO3

Or below the cut:

Archibald was on the hunt.

It was actually a rather nice change of pace, truth be told. Archie hadn’t needed to hunt even once since Merlin took them in two weeks ago, and while he certainly appreciated having immediate access to food at all times, he had been growing a bit stiff and lethargic as a result. A cat (and a dragon too, for that matter) simply had to spend a little time stalking and chasing, or else they would lose their edge. Today’s hunt was a bit different, however. This hunt was not about obtaining food, or even just keeping his claws sharp. No, this hunt was about something a little more dear to Archie’s heart.

Today, Archie was hunting Douxie.

Something strange had come over the boy in the last two weeks. He had been uncannily industrious, jumping at every opportunity to do even the most menial of tasks, slaving away in Merlin’s study long after the Master had retired, even badgering the old wizard for more chores to do. Douxie was no stranger to hard work, that was true. He may have been an excellent con artist, but he still had to earn his bread the old-fashioned way from time to time. But he also relished what downtime he and Archie were able to get. Douxie had a mind that liked to wander, and a great affinity for sleep. And he was still a growing boy on top of that. He needed his rest. Yet ever since they had come to live with Merlin, Douxie had hardly stopped moving, except to collapse into bed at any ungodly hour of the night, only to rise again with the sun a few hours later. It was beginning to take its toll on the young wizard’s health. He somehow looked more gaunt and malnourished here than he did in the gutters of Camelot, and his normally brilliant mind was a jumbled mess of task lists, potion ingredients, and whatever new spells Merlin was managing to teach him in between his frantic bursts of labor.

Archie intended to put an end to this nonsense. This just wasn’t like Douxie. Whatever was going on with his Familiar, he intended to suss it out and squash it like a bug. And so, the hunt had begun. He had been stalking his quarry since breakfast, and had yet to see him so much as pause to breathe. In just four hours, Douxie had gathered and prepared thirteen different varieties of herb for potion brewing, tidied and swept the study, memorized seven new spells, milked the Slorr, done the laundry, tidied and swept the study again, and now he was occupied in reorganizing the bookshelves (which he had already done just yesterday). Archie prowled in the shadows nearby, tail flicking back and forth as he watched for the opportunity to strike.

Douxie’s arms were full of heavy tomes, and he had a quill pen stuck between his teeth as he glanced between a roll of parchment on a nearby lectern and the half-empty bookshelf. He fumbled with the books for a moment, managing to slip one back into its proper place on the shelf before the other three went tumbling out of his arms and landed with a soft thud on the floor.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets,” Douxie groaned, taking the quill out of his mouth and crossing something off of the parchment. He set the pen down and knelt to gather up the fallen books. He wobbled a bit as he stood up, and had to brace himself against the bookshelf for a moment. Archie flexed his claws impatiently. Douxie shoved the other three books into place and checked his list again, crossing off a few more lines. He stopped for a moment, eyes darting between the parchment and the bookshelf once again, and his brow furrowed. He looked over at his Familiar, who immediately pretended he had been washing his face the entire time. “Archie, you haven’t seen Merlock’s Grimoire of First-Level Spellcasting, have you?”

“You left it in your quarters last night,” Archie replied, lifting his glasses with one paw so that he could wash around his eyes with the other. “Though why you were studying it is beyond me. You already know all of your first-level spells.”

“Fuzzbuckets,” Douxie said yet again, dragging his hand across his weary face. “I don’t suppose you’d go get it for me? I don’t want Master Merlin to miss it if he needs it.”

“What, and break my spine trying to lug it all the way back here? No thank you. This is your job, Douxie. You do it.” The boy shot Archie an irritated look that was only intensified by the evident exhaustion in his face. A lesser cat would have broken. But Archie had seen an opportunity here, and he intended to exploit it. He held his ground and stared back with blatant defiance. A moment later, Douxie heaved a sigh and shuffled out of the room, unaware that Archie had stood up to follow him the moment he turned away.

Douxie’s chambers were far less orderly than the study, which was rather impressive, considering they hadn’t been living there for very long. But the floor was already a mess of open spellbooks, hastily-scribbled notes, and various magical bits and bobs to study and observe at a future date. It was almost too easy for Archie to slink into the room at Douxie’s heels and conceal himself amongst the chaos. He crouched behind a stack of books, golden eyes fixed unblinkingly upon his target, waiting for the perfect moment. Douxie rifled around the mess on the floor for a moment, checked inside the writing desk he hardly ever used, then finally noticed the object of his search sitting innocently on the bed, half-covered by a fold of the blanket. Archie tucked his paws beneath him and coiled up like a spring as Douxie approached the bedside. The boy bent down to pick up the book, and that’s when the dragon attacked.

Launching himself into the air at full speed, Archie shifted into his larger reptilian form and slammed into Douxie’s back with his full weight. Weakened and unaware as he was, the young wizard toppled onto the bed with a startled yelp. There was a moment of confused flailing and scuffling, and for one terrifying heartbeat, Archie could feel the tension of defensive magic in the air, as Douxie’s powers flared instinctively. But it was gone a second later, as the boy managed to roll over and see his Familiar perched on his chest, grinning down at him smugly.

“Really, Arch?!” Douxie barked. “I could have killed you!”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Archie scoffed. “The worst you could do in this state would be to ruffle my fur.” He settled down on Douxie’s chest and began to knead.

“Arch, stop it. You’re being an ass.”

“And you are digging yourself into an early grave,” Archie shot back, never wavering in his kneading. “Do you know how many hours of sleep a boy your age needs?” Douxie opened his mouth to argue, but Archie cut him off. “Nine to eleven hours, on average. Do you know how much sleep you’ve been getting every night since you came here?” Once again, the boy tried to speak, but Archie wouldn’t hear it. “Four to six. You spend all day running around after Merlin, and even when he dismisses you, you won’t keep still, you just go hunting around for more work to do. Your head is so jammed up with magic incantations, it’s a wonder you even remember to breathe sometimes. You are killing yourself, Douxie. And as your Familiar, it is my duty to put an end to it. You are going to lie here in this bed until I say you can get up, and you are going to think of nothing related to Merlin or your apprenticeship while you do.”

“Archie!” Douxie protested.

“No arguing. Now keep still.”

“Archie, you don’t understand!” Douxie’s voice had shifted from annoyed to pleading. “I have to finish my chores. I have to study. I need to do a good job!” There was a moment’s silence as the cat regarded his boy, taking note of the desperation swimming in his sunken hazel eyes.

“...Why do you feel that way, Douxie?” he asked softly. “Why do you feel like you’re not allowed to rest?”

“...I....I don’t...” The young wizard fumbled for an answer, eyes darting around the room to avoid meeting Archie’s gaze.

“Hisirdoux,” he said gently, using a tone of voice that Douxie hadn’t heard from him since he was a small child. “Please talk to me.” Archie felt his boy give in beneath his paws as Douxie let out a long, tired sigh.

“...I don’t want to go back on the streets, Arch,” he whispered. “I don’t want to go back to hiding who I am.”

“Well, of course not. But what does that have to do with the late nights and the obsessive cleaning?”

“...I guess....I don’t want Merlin to regret taking me in. Living here in the castle, learning magic from a real Master Wizard, having a real home...It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. I don’t want to screw this up. But I do screw things up, all the time. I’ve mislabeled ingredients, spilled ink on one of Merlin’s books--you know, he won’t even let me practice real spells yet because even my magic is full of mistakes. I need to do better. If I can’t do this right, then....what good am I to him?” He paused and took a deep breath. “...I just want to be worth something to him.”

A long, heavy silence followed. Archie had stopped kneading and was staring sadly at Douxie, who looked uncomfortably close to tears after that admission. His poor boy, thrust out of his home and family when he was only eight for something he couldn’t control, rejected by the world, beaten down by poverty, and his only source of love was a little black cat searching for a purpose. And though Douxie put on a brave front, laughed in the face of misfortune, and did his best to carry himself with all the dignity of a true wizard, he was still just a child; a child who had suffered terribly from the unfairness of a cruel world, and was somehow convinced that it was his own fault.

“Douxie...” Archie began softly. “...I can’t speak for Merlin. I still don’t know what motivated him to rescue you from the knights that day. But I do know that, with as many mistakes as you make, you are good enough for me. I’ve met a great many humans in my time, Hisirdoux, but you were the only one I chose to be mine. And if you are good enough for a dragon-turned-Familiar, then you are certainly good enough for that crusty old windbag. He won’t turn you out simply for being human and making a few mistakes.” Archie laid his head down and tucked it beneath Douxie’s chin. “...I won’t let him.”

He felt the boy’s breath stutter and heard him swallow thickly. Two scarred, gentle hands came up around Archie and held him close. Douxie’s thumbs stroked absently across his Familiar’s fur as he spoke in a quivering whisper:

“Thanks, Arch.” Archie purred and pushed against Douxie’s chin, his paws resuming their methodical kneading against his chest. Another silence fell upon them, this time a warm and comfortable one. Douxie sniffled once or twice, but his hands were steady as they ran up and down Archie’s back. “...I really should finish organizing the books, though,” he murmured. “I left the study in such a mess.”

“Now, now, Hisirdoux.” Archie dug his claws into Douxie’s shirt--not enough to hurt, but enough to make his point. “You wouldn’t be cruel enough to turn away a poor, wretched cat that has come to rest upon you, would you?” He shrank back down into his feline form and squinted his golden eyes fondly.

“No, no, don’t look at me like that. Archie...!” Archie snuggled down against his boy and gave a contented purr that he knew could never be resisted. Douxie gave up with another sigh and closed his eyes in defeat. “Fine. Just for a little bit.”

*****

“Hisirdoux!”

Merlin Ambrosius had had many apprentices in the past, but none of them had ever mystified and bewildered him as much as the grubby lad he’d pulled off the streets two weeks ago. The boy was a whirlwind of energy and untempered magic, always hovering at Merlin’s side or bustling around the castle. The old wizard had even resorted to asking some of the castle servants to abandon a few of their chores, just so he would have something to keep the lad occupied and out of his rapidly thinning hair for a few hours. And now after all that, he had returned to his study after a long morning of attending to a very irate Arthur only to find half of his library strewn across the floor, and his newest apprentice nowhere to be seen.

With an exasperated sigh, Merlin magicked all of the books back into their rightful places (Why were they even out to begin with? Didn’t Hisirdoux reorganize them just yesterday?) and stormed out of the study, already preparing an extensive lecture on the dangers of carelessness and lack of focus for when he found his young ward. A brief scan of the nearby area for magical signatures told him that the boy was currently holed up in his chambers. That was a bit odd. Hisirdoux usually didn’t spend much time there. No matter. Merlin swept down the stairs and through the hallways with the great sense of purpose that only a Master Wizard can achieve, and burst into his pupil’s room without even bothering to knock.

He was immediately greeted by a blast of fire.

Fortunately, he was able to fling up a magical shield just in time to save himself from what would have been a very nasty burn, but to say that Merlin was displeased by this greeting would have been an understatement. He turned his furious gaze onto the culprit, who was hovering in midair and baring his fangs like a wild beast.

“Archibald, what is the meaning of--!”

“Shh!” The ungrateful little creature cut him off with a growl. “If you wake him, I swear I will end you.” Merlin looked past him to see Hisirdoux curled up on his bed, sound asleep.

“What in the name of all things magic is going on here?” Merlin hissed. “Why was my study left in complete disarray, and what is my apprentice doing lazing about in bed in the middle of the afternoon?!”

“Your apprentice,” Archie spat the words out like poison. “is a child. A child who has been working himself to the bone trying to please you. He has been dead on his feet for the last fifteen days, and I was only able to get him to rest through brute force and manipulation, two things which I would rather avoid using on my own Familiar when at all possible. We are grateful for your kindness, but I will not allow you to disturb him now, regardless of the state of your study!”

Archie had been prepared to drag the Master Wizard from the room by his hair if necessary, so he was rather surprised when Merlin reacted, not with anger, but genuine surprise.

“...Hisirdoux hasn’t been sleeping?” he queried softly.

“No,” Archie replied shortly, landing on the floor and staring up at Merlin disdainfully. “He hasn’t.”

“But why on earth not? I did tell the servants to provide him with a comfortable mattress.”

“The mattress isn’t the issue. Douxie believes that if he does not make himself useful at all times and do everything perfectly, he will be cast out of the castle.”

“Who put such madness into his head?” Merlin demanded. “Of course I expect him to earn his keep here, but I never told him to expend himself to the point of exhaustion. And as for perfection, if I had been looking for that, I certainly wouldn’t have gone searching for it in the gutters of Camelot.”

“...Then may I ask what exactly are your intentions regarding my Familiar?” Archie inquired, narrowing his gaze.

“I simply wish to help him, Archibald. Nothing more or less.” The cat opened his mouth to reply, but froze as Douxie gave a muffled grunt and shifted in his sleep. The wizard and the Familiar both silently regarded the boy for a moment. “...I suppose the life of a street urchin can dull one’s belief in basic human kindness,” Merlin sighed, a gentle look coming into his normally stern eyes. He looked back at Archie. “When he awakens, please tell him that I have decreed in no uncertain terms that he is in no danger of losing his home here.”

“I...” Archie fumbled for a response for a moment. “...Yes, of course.” Merlin gave him a curt nod, then looked back at Douxie. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he raised his hand and, with a soft pulse of green light, pulled the rumpled blanket across Douxie’s slumbering form. Then he left without another word, closing the door softly behind him. Archie sat where he was for a minute, staring at the closed door as though he could still see the wizard who had disappeared behind it. Then, shifting back into his cat form, he rejoined Douxie on the bed, curling up against the boy’s back.

Good enough, indeed, he thought. You are more than good enough, Hisirdoux.

#tales of arcadia #toa #wizards: tales of arcadia #wizards: toa #douxie #tales of arcadia archie #fanfiction #archie is a therapy cat #and douxie is a precious moppet #merlin is just a tired dad

37 notes · View notes

notasiren21 · 4 years ago

Text

To those who want to kill themselves:

I’m not going to sugarcoat this at all. I’ll be gentle at times and then rather aggressive. And for good reason...

Because you deserve to fucking live.

I’m aware there��s blatant bullying, discreet and subtle bullying that makes you question if you’re just being sensitive and taking things too seriously (most of the time you’re not, trust me), neglect, familial issues, and then situational instances that pound into your heart and head consistently.

Believe it or not, but the cliché term of “it does get better” is true, just as long as you yourself is willing to check its validity and try.

I thought of several ways like drowning myself in the bathtub and hoping my fingertips would slip on the rims so I couldn’t pull myself up when my body got weak/ holding a knife to my chest while crying/ contemplating on just taking those three steps into the road when I was supposed to get the mail/ jumping off my balcony/ finishing off my oxycodone pills from a wisdom teeth surgery/ etc.

Maybe I’m a coward or was weak, but I could never follow through with it. Just left with that same bottle lying in a medicine basket somewhere or had a brief puncture mark on my chest that just broke the skin with the tip, whatever.

Crying myself to sleep almost every night because it was too much.

Honestly, I think being a coward and weak was the best thing to happen to me.

I lost a boyfriend from how much my anxiety and suicidal thoughts consumed me and had to tell my parents why I was dumped which led to me seeing their faces when I fessed up and said “I’m not happy, I’m not okay”.

It’s funny because I’ve had a cry for help several times through stuff I’ve written and published on fanfic sites, stuff I’ve given to my teacher to read senior year, literally telling my AP Lit class two years ago I was depressed and thought suicidal shit (only 8 of us in that class and teacher) and being told “it’s just like that sometimes, gotta shake it off”, “don’t let people’s words get to you”, “yea, same” and having a teacher pretend like she heard nothing.

That one time I was brave, and I was waved off.

I know there are times where you finally find your voice for that one split second and then you’re ignored, and you feel yourself rescinding back to mute and distant.

I know you’re plastering a smile on constantly to fool others because you’re afraid what will happen when they find out.

It sucks, doesn’t it?

When you hear so many voices in your head playing that record on repeat of the things you most want to forget. Having those nightmares occur where someone takes the final step to push you to your edge. Seeing the annoyed rolling of eyes or blatant show of disinterest of you.

Nine years of schooling, because after 3rd grade, I was just one of those girls who females decided to hate for breathing or asking a question. So nine years I was trying not to victimize myself in my head and justifying why everyone acted the way they did to me.

Teenage girls and teachers alike made my life hell. The girls never gave me the chance and teachers treated me like I was some lost cause that couldn’t even make it to merit roll and like my work was shit.

“Oh, you sure you can make it into the media production film? I don’t think you’ll be able to make shows like you planned. Maybe try for something else.”

“Your writing is, it’s okay. Try harder next time.”

I struggled with grades in high school and wondered if I’d even graduate.

I made the president’s list my first year of college. Got straight A’s. My English professors loved to leave excited feedback on my essays and were amazed how quickly I could conjure one up and fix my own mistakes before peer review.

My professors talked about me to one another and when I met the new ones, they already knew of me.

My history professor begged me to write a poem for a book he’s writing and publishing near 2021.

My creative writing professor attacked me with an email of compliments over a chapter book of poems I wrote where i took them in the order written so it was me at my worst, to me fooling myself, to me losing and falling back, to me trying for help, to me being the best I’ve ever been. >I also made him cry in a class writing experiment with less than 300 words.

(Idk maybe the bitch is that sensitive but he was chill)

My point is: fucking block out what other people say or do to you. Tell someone you trust you need help and stop kidding yourself.

And please, for the love of god, if it is really that bad then do not make yourself so naive into believing a friend or partner can take the brunt of it all and fix you.

It may work for some time, but if you’re still suffering, they will too and neither of you will win in the end.

I took to therapy and it worked. And I dropped all the toxic shit out of my life and moved on.

I may not use social media besides Tumblr or Discord, but I’m more present in life than I was before and not comparing myself to others anymore.

I dropped friends that made me feel bad and bashed things I liked or would cause issues and I have a peace of mind (as much as one can have one during a pandemic and such).

Get the help. Find ways to receive help if you can’t financially afford it. Find that courage to tell someone you trust that listens to you that you are suffering and need that professional help and to be taken seriously.

I was the first to walk the graduation stage of my 2019 class, and I thought I’d be the first of us to die because I couldn’t move past everything I’ve endured from a large majority of them.

I would’ve missed how positively my life turned around.

I would’ve destroyed my parents, little sister, and brother for being so selfish.

I’m the middle child, the good kid with a career in mind and the mediator of the family. And I’m used to not being the favorite but appreciated one.

My dad confessed to me that I was his favorite and I never want to hear it again.

You never want to hear a man you see as the strongest person you know say that while trying not to cry and keep his voice normal, you don’t want to hear “You were always my favorite” said in such a thick voice it brings tears to your eyes.

Your life matters.

This isn’t Sims where you can move on to the next household member. This isn’t like throwing LEGO R2-D2 off a cliff with that iconic scream only or lose a few coins. This isn’t a fucking game.

And I am so sick of hearing people treat it like some quest you get once in your life:

“You’ll be okay.”

“Cheer up.”

“It’s just a phase.”

Etc.

It’s all fucking bullshit. We live in a world that sugarcoats the severity of someone’s life when it’s presented in front of us while on the precipice of shattering.

You deserve to live. Anyone who tells you otherwise is the one who loses the right to be considered human or a person, not you.

Do not let someone dictate your life’s outcome because they don’t agree with you or like you.

And please, for all that is good in this world, don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re alright when you don’t feel it.

Hang in for one extra day to gather the strength and tell someone you need help.

Everyone acts so ashamed of it but it was the best thing that happened to me after being such a weak coward and now, I’m genuinely happy. And it was a lot of work to get here.

Want to know where all my angst and suffering had gone to? Just ask the characters in the books and fanfic content I’ve written. I’m sure they don’t appreciate it, but those stories wouldn’t exist if I gave up then.

And believe it or not, people will fucking miss you like hell if you killed yourself. It’s just too hard to see it right now and I was blinded before too.

Not everyone has the same opinion of you. Not everyone matters in your life.

You’re living this life singlehandedly by yourself while surrounded by others experiencing the same thing. Don’t let that opportunity go to waste.

And if you need distractions, indulge yourself in the harmless guilty pleasures like I do.

It can get better if you just open yourself to it.

It can get better if you get help.

You really must be so tired, isn’t it time you stopped pretending?

64 notes · View notes

yeaahishowedupatyourparty · 4 years ago

Text

THE PARENTHOOD INTERVIEW: Florence.

In all of these interviews, I’m obviously going to have to make things up about other people’s characters! Don’t take it too seriously if you feel like it’s not accurate, just how I picture things being :)

10 QUESTIONS NOT LINKED TO YOUR KID(S).

what is your current career now? “I’m currently a teacher at a dance school. I mainly teach ballet at the moment, but I’ve started moving in to more commercial and contemporary styles. Eventually, I’m hoping to open my own school, but life is hectic and always throwing new things our way, so we’ll see!”

are you enjoying it? “I love being a teacher, especially when I get to teacher the mini-classes. They’re about four and it’s been such a long time since I’ve had children that age around; I miss it!”

where do you currently live? “We currently live in the Springs, it was just convenient because that’s where the three of them went to school but we do make an effort to visit Italy a lot. That’s where Dom’s family are from, firstly, and it’s just always had significance.”

are you married? “Since I was 18! Younger than Daisy!”

what is one thing that’s stayed the same with you since st judes? “My connection with my family. I’m still really close to them all, especially Disney, Florence and Park.”

what’s the biggest change you’ve experienced? “I think I’ve become smarter. I hope? Helping with impossible maths homework for years changes a person. I now know all seven continents. Proud of me yet?”

now that you’re older and have had a successful career, what’s your biggest goal in life? “To make sure I’m present for my family, especially my children. I never want them to look back on their lives and think; well, where was my mother? It’s the reason I gave up work once Carter was born, too. I’ve never missed a sports game, a school show, a birthday, a parent’s evening...It’s not how everybody chooses to live, but it’s important to me that my children know that they can fall back on to me if they need to.”

would you still consider yourself famous? “Only by association, and that’s fine by me.”

what was the first thing you did after your graduation? “I went on tour, would you believe! I choreographed for Ruby’s tour, who was signed to my Dad’s label at the time.”

do you have any regrets about your time in st judes? “Not speaking my mind more often. I feel like there was an awful pressure on girl’s too be sweet and not come across as a bitch, which meant people could say what they liked and you’d have to grin and bear it if you wanted to be seen a certain way. I wish I stuck up for Dom more, and myself.”

QUESTIONS ABOUT PARENTHOOD.

who are your children? list them in age order. “Carter, Peter and Daisy. My babies.”

if you gave birth, who was the easiest pregnancy? if you didn’t, which pregnancy did you feel most anxious about. “Carter was the easiest pregnancy. It was the first, so I didn’t know what to expect and probably took it for granted at the time, but I had no morning sickness. I got up every morning and went to this mother-to-be yoga class and had a ton of energy. I feel like I had the glow everyone speaks of? Being pregnant with Peter wasn’t the worse. I think it was more that I was pregnant and still had Carter to care for, so I was tired. Daisy’s birth definitely had the most complications and she was early. We knew from early on that things weren’t ‘normal’, so I guess that was the one with the most anxiety.”

did you have any baby showers or gender reveals? if yes, what did you do? “I can’t remember if I did gender reveals! I don’t think I did, honestly. I did have baby showers, though. It wasn’t anything major. Just gatherings with close friends and family. It was cute when Peter and Daisy were born because Carter was more involved in the pictures and stuff, and then of course Peter too during Daisy’s one.”

what kind of parent would your children describe you as, do you think? “God, I don’t think I want to know! I think if we’re being honest, they’d say I’m almost overbearing and they’d be right. I wouldn’t be offended. I just like knowing they’re okay...”

which stage was hardest: baby, toddler, child, teenager or young adult? “For Daisy, toddler-slash-child. She wasn’t very well and that was hard on all of us. I think Peter was the trickiest teenager...and for Carter, probably young adult, honestly! He’s coming into his own and it’s harder to get him to open up to me because, you know, he’s an adult! They’re all amazing though, so don’t think for a second any of that means they’ve caused me massive stress in any way.”

what has been your favourite memory with each child? “There are so many! One of my favourites that involves them all was the first year we went skiing with their cousins. Seeing the boys help Daisy out with the skiis...and then also ambush her with snowballs until she got stroppy and ran to Dom, was fun. Seeing them all get along like that never gets old and makes it all worth it.”

be honest, do you think you’ve had any failings as a parent? “Definitely. I constantly blame myself for Daisy being sick when she was little. I’ll forever wonder if I could’ve done anything differently while pregnant or if I did anything to contribute. For both of the boys, I sometimes worry that I didn’t sit with them enough when they were younger and help them talk things through. They’re both such ‘get on with it’ types of people and it’s admirable but I just wish I gave them more opportunities to vocalise their feelings. It gets harder the older they get.”

what do you think you do well as a parent? “I hope it’s being present! Again, that’s something that’s really important to me. If they all know that there’s no such thing as a mistake too big or a problem too bad to bring to me, then I’ve done my job. I don’t want any of them to ever think they have to suffer in silence about things in fear of being told off or yelled at.”

how much involvement do your own parents have in your child’s life? “Quite a bit! My parents used to take them on holiday a lot over the summer along with their cousins.”

as a parent, what is something you’re still learning? “That they grow up and they’re entitled to have thoughts and feelings they don’t share. I think I always have the urge to fix everything for them when in reality, they’re at the age where they’re figuring things out alone which is just as important.”

what’s the funniest memory from parenthood so far? “Carter takes this one. We were on a plane going to, somewhere. Daisy must have been tiny. Anyway, Peter was sat with Dom and Carter sat with me - Daisy on my lap with the baby seatbelt on...and suddenly, he just became overly excited. I’ve never seen him so happy. When I finally got his attention, he was like “Mummy, Santa’s on the plane!” and wouldn’t stop. Well, we looked down the aisle to see a person in a dress...A woman, mind you...And she had long white hair, which to be fair to a little child could have been seen as a beard. Anyway, after the embarrassment and a journey of death glares from her, it’s definitely one of my favourite things he’s done.”

when do you feel like you were needed the most? “Now! Life gets harder as you get older. But, I need to learn when they need me to back off too...I’ll get there.”

JUST FOR FUN, WHICH CHILD… if you have just one child, you can just say if they’d do the stuff or not.

which child is the most sensible? “Carter and Peter are two different types of sensible and they’re both important qualities, so I’m going to say those two. Sorry, Dais.”

which child is the most independent? “Peter. He always has been, too.”

which child did you always have suspicions about being famous one day? “They’re all so talented, typical Mum comment! Maybe Daisy, though. She’d stand in front of the boys while they were playing their video games and belt out Frozen. If that’s not star quality...and bravery, then I don’t know.”

which child was the hardest work as a child? “Daisy, only because of the complications with her health.”

which child have you cried/stressed over the most? “Daisy or Peter. It’s too close to call.”

which child has the tidiest room? “Carter. That’s the easiest one so far.”

which child do you think likes you the most? “I hope they all like me! I feel like Carter’s the one who’ll still pity me and laugh at my jokes or has the patience to show me how to set up crap on the computer too. So, we’ll say him. I know the other two love me too, but I tend to get a few more eye rolls!”

which child is most likely to forget your birthday? “Daisy! She’s been spoilt. The boys have always been nice enough to put her name on cards and organise it for her. Perks of being the youngest? I remember my siblings doing it for me too.”

which child is/was the most academic? “Carter, I think.”

which child is/was the most athletic? “Peter.”

which child tends to be the most annoying? “They all give it a good go, believe me. I think Daisy’s the most unintentionally annoying and again, it’s because we all spoil her. She went through a stage where she would not leave Peter alone and if the poor kid tried to do something by himself, she’d have a full blown tantrum. It got to the point where I had to start giving her time outs! If we’re talking about being intentionally annoying, then the whole family will agree on Peter. If he’s in that mood, he knows exactly how to wind you up...which is funny unless you’re the target!”

which child asks for money the most? “Daisy, but from Dom. That’s his problem to deal with!”

which child is most likely to move in back home? “Deep down, I don’t think any of them will and as much as it pains me, it also makes me really proud. I feel like it means we’ve given them everything they need for the next chapter.”

which child helps out around the house the most? “Either of the boys. Are you noticing a pattern?”

which child enjoyed disney the most growing up? “That’d be Daisy.”

BEING AN ACADEMY PARENT.

did you have a say in the academy(s) your child(ren) picked? “I didn’t! They all made their own decisions and I deliberately didn’t comment because I wanted them to have that.”

how did you feel when your child decided they wanted to go to an academy? “I felt hopeful! I know it can be intense but they all have what it takes and I’m so proud every single day.”

do any of your children study the same as what you did? are they less, equally or more successful than what you were? “Daisy studies dance and she’s miles ahead of where I was at her age. She’s a star.”

when your child(ren) were younger, what did you THINK they’d end up working as? “That’s a good question! I always thought Carter would maybe do something like, helpful? He’s quite social and so caring. I always saw him as maybe a firefighter or teacher, y’know? With Peter, it was obvious from when he was tiny that he wouldn’t be sat behind a desk or doing anything office-like. I did always have a feeling it’d be sports related, or something that lets him travel...Maybe with my brother out in the canary islands. I don’t know! Daisy was in dance from when she was tiny, so I always had the feeling she’d do dance...”

have you met any of your child’s friends or partners? “I’ve met Callie once, I think? And Aurora a few times, yes. Beautiful girls. I won’t say too much or I’ll get texts from my boys saying I’ve embarrassed them.”

what’s your biggest worry about your children being in an academy? “Their mental health. I don’t think anything can prepare you for people suddenly being so interested in your life and wanting a piece of you all of the time.”

what’s the one piece of advice you’d give your child as they start this journey that you wished you had? “That it’s okay to slip off of the radar, you’re allowed to decline that invite to the exclusive party everybody is buzzing about and if you decide it isn’t for you, you’re allowed to leave. If it’s not your thing, there’s a whole world out there and your thing is in it. I just hope they always see the big picture and don’t feel like they’re stuck if they’re unhappy.”

MEMORY LANE.

what tv programmes/films were on repeat as your children were growing up? “Paw Patrol when the boys were younger...Power Rangers was a thing at one stage. Daisy had a frightening obsession with Dora the Explorer. We’ve done it all!”

have you ever lost your child/had something happen that’s made you panic? “Holy shhh. Yes. I used to take all of the kids out a lot during holiday’s and stuff because like, Brody and Disney both worked. Park worked. Imogen worked. Even though they have their own businesses, it’s still work. I was unemployed from when Carter was born right up until when Daisy graduated, so I liked to get them all out and away from their parents for a bit. Anyway! I took them swimming one summer - all of them! - Jay, Daisy, Dixie, Fleur, Pippa, Peter, Carter, Emmett...I turned my back for one second to let one of the younger ones - maybe Pippa - into the pool, when I turned back Peter and Dixie had gone. We searched the changing rooms, the toilets, the sauna. I was on the brink of tears. Anyway, they were hiding under the slide in the main pool which we never went in because it was too deep for any of them at that point. Needless to say, we never went swimming again. It was play dates in our garden pool instead.”

what was the first holiday you went on as a whole family? “Italy, I believe!”

can you remember a time you’ve ever been called to the principals office? “I don’t remember the first time but, let’s just say the principal and I were on a first name basis.”

say one thing about your child that you think they’d like to hear, but wouldn’t expect you to say. “...Let’s see. For Daisy, I think it’d be that she’s so much more than pretty. She’s been complimented on her looks since she was little - including by me, I’m guilty! And it’s because she’s beautiful! But, I hope she knows we all see how smart and generous she is too. And funny, there’s so much more to her and we value it. For Peter, definitely that we’re proud of him. Out of the three of them, he’s hardest on himself and holds himself to a painfully high standard but he’s constantly surpassing any expectations I’ve ever have. He amazes me everytime I hear from him and I just want him to remember to be kind to himself. He’s so much more than he gives himself credit for. And, with Carter, it’s similar but not quite. It’s more that he’s perfect just as he is. I think he grew up as the sensible, and possibly softer sibling. Daisy and Peter are louder by nature and from my experience, I know it’s hard to not feel like you’re forgettable or have faded into the background if you’re not as bold with your personality. But, I can put my hand on my heart and say I couldn’t imagine a better older brother - he’s kind, thoughtful, intelligent...He’s been a great example to them and so selfless. He’s had to endure and put up with so much growing up and not once has he complained, or felt sorry for himself. He’s a blessing and I just hope he knows that he doesn’t need to be more like anyone else to make me proud of him. I love them all!”

#itsflorence #SHES DEFINITELY MY FAVE PARENT I THINK - SHES SO LOVING

5 notes · View notes

hoodoo12 · 5 years ago

Note

Hello, I’d like to request a nsfw fic of Beetlejuice trying (and succeeding) to seduce a self conscious female reader who is trying on lingerie?

Now that is a scenario I can get behind! Thanks for asking!

NSFW, Beetlejuice/reader. Insecurity, lewd talk, semi-public sex.

Enjoy!

Risqué

No.

No way.No.

Nothing was ever right!

You sighed in frustration and your eyes started to burn, a precursor to tears. You sniffed heavily and wiped an angry hand over your face to try and stymie them.

Like he was an especially attuned dog, Beetlejuice popped up behind you. You didn’t know if he was basically a stalker or what, but he always seemed quicker to appear when you were miserable. Like a reverse incubus, it was if he couldn’t stay away when you felt horrible, like he was reveling in your gloom and dismay.

Deep down, you knew that wasn’t true. The ghost liked to make random appearances, yes, and if it seemed like it was when you were having a hard time it was because–again like a dog–he didn’t like you being upset. You were just feeling so down at the moment you weren’t thinking straight.

“Hey, babydoll, what’s up?” he asked loudly, as if the two of you were standing in your bedroom and not the dressing room of a department store. His eyes widened as he saw you were naked. “Oh baby–that’s what I like!”

“Not now, Beej,” you told him, dropping your head so he wouldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes.

That move was a mistake, because it made those tears fall.

He didn’t miss seeing that.

“Hey, hey–” he said, taking your shoulders and spinning you to face him. You didn’t look up. “Baby, what is going on?”

“Nothing,” you lied, then repeated it, as if that would make it true. “Nothing!”

The ghost narrowed his eyes and when you glanced up at him, you saw he was taking in everything in the small room. Pieces of clothing were on hangers or tossed onto the ottoman that was supposed to serve as a chair. A couple of bits of fabric were simply left where you’d dropped them, in messy heaps on the floor.

You crossed your arms over your chest despondently as you saw a lewd grin start on his face. This was not how you imagined this afternoon was going to turn out.

“Babydoll–are you trying on lingerie? Are you trying on sexy clothing–for me?” he asked.

“No!” you contradicted. “I’m not trying on any more! None of it looks good on me!”

The grin morphed to pursed lips as Beetlejuice considered this. “I doubt that’s true, babes.”

He grabbed your hips and swayed a little to some music that only he heard, making you sway with him. You didn’t help; you didn’t even uncross your arms. “It is true!” you insisted. “Nothing is right–I hate lingerie, and I hate–”

You stopped yourself from saying what was really on the tip of your tongue. Beetlejuice could figure it out on his own, you told yourself.

He grunted his disagreement. Reaching out to a bit of satin that was on a hanger, he rubbed it between two grimy fingers.

“Who cares about this stuff anyway?” he dismissed. “It just ends up on the floor in a couple of minutes.”

Sighing, you knew there was no way to make him understand. You whispered, “I care …”

Beetlejuice ‘hmph’ed’ but didn’t continue to deride whether lingerie was important or not. Instead, he gave your hips a squeeze, then stepped past you to shove the discarded clothing on the hard ottoman to the floor so he could sit down.“Okay, babydoll. Show me.”

“What?!”“Show me,” he repeated, with a wave of his hand. “Gimme a fashion show. Let me see what you look like in this stuff.”

Immediately you flushed. Okay, yes, you’d wanted to get some new sexy undergarments to show off to him, but not in a harshly lit dressing room of a busy department store with random strangers in the other rooms! You wanted it to be a surprise, with some strategically placed soft lighting and privacy!

“Beej, I don’t know …”“I do. Come on, put something on.”

“I already told you nothing looks right!”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

The ghost looked like he was ready to take up permanent residence in this tiny stall. You were tempted to try and wait him out, but he’d planted his feet on the clothes you’d worn in and he was dead, so he had all the time in the world and then some.

“Here. Put this on for me,” he said, scooping a random slip of clothing off the floor and holding it out to you.

You sighed and gave up. There was no plain refusal when it came to him being insistent. Taking what he offered, you stepped into the white ruffled pair of boyshorts panties and pulled them up. While you were bent over, you grabbed the matching bra and slipped into it as well. Once everything was in place, you tugged the panties to a more comfortable position and scrutinized yourself in the mirror instead of looking at him. You still hated it.

Finally though, you couldn’t help but glance over at the ghost.

That leer had returned. “That’s hot, babydoll,” he told you, sincerely.

You looked in the mirror again. “No it’s not,” you disagreed, and were meticulous in telling him why. “The cups don’t fit right, so my boobs don’t look good. The straps are too tight, but this is supposed to be my size. I don’t like the way the ruffles kind of go out instead of laying flat. I look awful in this!”

Beetlejuice cocked his head like he was trying to see what you saw, then shrugged. “Okay, then. How about that?”

He pointed to a maroon teddy you thought might have been fun to try on. It looked good on the model wearing it on its tag.

“Ugh, no!”

“Babe …”

Because you knew he could be a needling pest, you sighed again and took off the bra and panty set. Grabbing the teddy, you shimmied into it.

The lace was scratchy and the cut on the hips was too high. It didn’t have enough support for your boobs, plus there were only ribbons to tie the front of the cups shut, so once again you self-consciously crossed your arms over your chest.

Beetlejuice gave this one a little more scrutiny. That didn’t make you feel any better.

After what seemed like an eternity of him staring at you, he said, “It that crotchless?”

You nodded, and it felt like the lace in your crotch became extra annoying.

“That’s almost perfect,” he announced.

Oh god. You glanced over yourself, wondering what it was he disliked about it. You knew what you didn’t like; there must be something that you hadn’t noticed, like too much of your back was showing, or the high hips were especially unflattering–

Beetlejuice clicked his tongue, and the color of the entire piece faded away to be replaced with vertical black and white stripes.

A snort of mortified laughter escaped you. “Absolutely no way!” you blurted. “There is no way I’m wearing stripes! Not horizontal, not vertical–I swear to god I will send you back right now if you don’t change fix this, Beej!”

With a disappointed scowl, he waved his hand and the lingerie was back to its original color.

“You’re no fun,” he groused. “You’re obsessed,” you countered.

“Guilty as charged,” he agreed easily, and you had to shake your head with a smile.

This time you didn’t give him the opportunity to demand the next piece of lingerie for you to try on. You took the one you thought might look passable on you, dropped the teddy and kicked it into the corner of the dressing room, and pulled on the looser, babydoll-styled piece.

It fell into place, hitting just the tops of your thighs. Once again the fabric was a little itchy, due to a fine metallic thread woven into it that caught the light. The straps over your shoulders were a little tight too, but not the worst. You did like the additional styling on the high waist line, and the way it flared out and didn’t hug you too tightly.

You picked up the hem and let it float back against your legs. You still didn’t like exactly where it hit, thinking it drew too much attention to an area you weren’t especially happy with. You looked for the panties that were meant to go with it, but didn’t see them. When it dawned on you that there’d been no response from your audience, you stopped analyzing yourself in the mirror and looked over at Beetlejuice.

You caught him drawing his thumb over his lower lip, taking you in with dark eyes. Now a new look had come to him. If you were required to put a name on his expression, you’d call it unbridled, borderline scary, lust.

Unselfconsciously, he dropped a hand to his crotch and adjusted himself. He cleared his throat to say,

“That color is perfect.”

You looked down yourself again. You’d never thought of yourself as looking good in blood red.

“That one …” He cleared his throat again. “That’s the one, babydoll. You look so fucking sexy.”

It was your automatic reaction to scoff and deflect the praise, but Beetlejuice held up a hand to interrupt you.

“Come over here,” he ordered.

It only took two steps to be in front of him.

You watched his gaze travel over your body and only with great effort did you not cover yourself again. He licked his lips and took your waist again. His grip was a little too tight, and you knew him well enough to know that was another indicator he was turned on; he liked to hold you like he thought someone might come along at that exact moment and sweep you away. When he looked up at your face again, you also knew the expression there incredibly well.

“Beej, no!” you whispered with a bit of panic in your voice. “We are not getting it on in this dressing room!”

“Baby,” he replied, “you’re so hot, I just wanna–I just wanna–”

“Beej …”

A sly smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Why don’t you just sit here for a moment, hmm? Just sit right here on my lap–”

Smoothly, he maneuvered you closer. You should be firm. You should insist that this was inappropriate, and there would be a very good chance you’d get caught and thrown out of the store and possibly even arrested! But it was nice to see how much you’d turned him on, and against your better judgement, you moved so you were straddling his lap.

“Right here, baby, lemme see how that fabric looks spread out a little–”

You eased onto his legs. Never wanting to put your full weight on him if you could avoid it, you balanced on the balls of your feet to hold yourself up.

Beetlejuice wasn’t having it. His grip moved to the small of your back, and he pulled you forward, so you settled right up against him, almost belly to belly. With your legs spread to accommodate his hips, there was no mistaking the bulge under his fly.

He stared directly at your chest.

“This is nice, baby,” he cooed.

Sometimes when his voice dropped the gravelly quality of it made you shiver. He noticed, and smirked.

“You like this, doll? I like this–I like this color on you, I like the way the fabric is just tight enough to emphasize your tits but thin enough that I can see your nipples, I especially like that it’s open at the bottom so there’s nothing covering your pussy,” he said indecently, in the same low timbre.

You licked your lips. You were wearing practically nothing, but suddenly this dressing room was too hot.

Confident you were going to stay in place on his lap, Beetlejuice released your back. He brought his hands forward to cup your breasts, running his thumbs over your fabric covered nipples. They tightened, forming hard points that he immediately gave gentle twists to.

You gasped.

“Shh, shh–” he cautioned, “–don’t wanna get anyone suspicious!”

But instead of stopping, instead of taking the responsibility that he himself was the one causing the problem, Beetlejuice pinched your nipples again. He darted his head forward, snake-like quick; you were familiar with the movement and only just stopped him from grabbing a nipple between his teeth.

“Beej, no!” you ordered in a hiss. “This isn’t mine!”

He growled in frustration but obeyed, but went back to the scandalous talk.

“It doesn’t matter this lingerie isn’t yours,” he whispered. “We can try to keep it as clean as possible, but I can feel the heat of your pussy on my dick and I know how wet you’re getting. You gonna leave a wet spot on the front of my pants? Are you gonna be able to not finger yourself if I leave you here right now?”

That last question startled you because no, damn it, he worked you up so much you’d just half-accepted the two of you were going to get down and dirty here!

Beetlejuice saw the shocked expression on your face and laughed.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t be able to not get yourself off, huh? Well then, maybe I should help you with that–”

With that, he shoved a hand between you. To your disappointment, it wasn’t to touch you. To your shameful delight, it was to work open the button and fly of his trousers, and ease his cock out. For once you didn’t rib him on the fact he preferred to go commando under his pants.

Puzzled, you shifted backwards to give him some room. “You’re not just going to make your pants disappear?” you asked, with a vague wave of your hand.

He looked up at you like you were insane. “We’re in a women’s dressing room, babe. What if someone catches us? No way I’m gonna be nude if I’ve gotta blitz out of here.”

The dry, serious tone he adopted to tell you that made you slap his chest as you laughed. He shushed you again. You knew him well enough that being caught was not a big concern for him. He was just being a brat.

Holding his cock at the base between you, Beetlejuice jerked his head and raised his eyebrows, and again, you knew him well enough to read the insinuation–

“Hop on for a quickie?” he whispered, confirming what you knew he implied.

When you didn’t respond quickly enough, he pushed the loose fabric of the lingerie you were wearing up to your belly, bunching it there so you could see everything he did, and gave himself a stroke. He licked his lips and repeated the motion, a small groan escaping him as he did.

“Come on babe,” he urged. “You sitting on my lap looking so hot? I’d love to fuck you, but if you’re too worried about getting caught, I’m gonna jerk myself off. How’re you gonna put that sexy piece of clothing back on the rack if it’s got my jizz on it?”

As if to prove the seriousness of his threat, his hand moved more quickly on his shaft.

You truly enjoyed watching him pleasure himself, because it exposed him in more ways than he would probably like to know. It was different than having mutual sex with him; that was excellent too but it was easy to get overwhelmed with your own physical reactions instead of concentrating on him. But watching him masturbate, hearing the tiny sounds of self-pleasure from him, seeing his jaw get looser and looser as his core and legs got tighter as he approached climax–all of that really turned you on. He knew that.

So his threat of coming on the front of the lingerie you were wearing was mostly hollow, because he knew that it wouldn’t take too much for you to get impatient and finally agree to his suggestion.

In only a few moments you felt flushed and sluttily desperate.

“Well?” he grinned, swiping the head of his cock with his thumb.

“Yes, okay!” you groaned.

“That’s my girl!” Beetlejuice praised. “Come up here again–this is gonna be so good–”

At his instruction, you stood up a little. He grabbed you under the legs, near your ass, to position you correctly, then licked his hand, gave his cock a swipe while he held it steady, and told you to lower yourself.

Although there’d been no traditional foreplay up to this point, you rocked down onto him. With a tiny burn of resistance that felt glorious, his cock split and entered you. Your gasp was sharp, and Beetlejuice grabbed your wrist, raised your hand and put it, palm side to your lips, to muffle yourself.

“If you’re gonna be noisy, better keep that there,” he warned, but his voice was strained too.

You nodded and kept your hand clamped to your mouth as he let your wrist go.

“Good, that’s good, baby–” he praised, taking your hips and upper thighs again.

The loose material of the lingerie hid where you were joined, but that didn’t matter. Beetlejuice demonstrated how he wanted you to move by lifting your hips and rocking himself up into you, then letting you relax before doing it again. The position kept his cock seated deep inside you. Once you understood the extent that he wanted you to move–which wasn’t much–you took over the rhythm yourself, raising yourself up minutely before settling back into the cup of his lap.

With his face planted in the side of your neck and keeping his voice low, Beetlejuice murmured dirty praise.

“Fuck, baby, just like that–your pussy feels so good! You’re so wet, you’re so hot around my cock–fuck–a little more, a little more, perfect! Ohhh fuck I love your cunt–”

You couldn’t help but squeak a little each time you dropped back down on him. His grip became even tighter but you couldn’t even think about the possibility he was going to leave bruises, worse, ruin the fabric he was bunching in his hands. He was right; this felt so good, so debauched to be fucking here, where the walls were thin and other people were literally just feet away.

On one downward stroke you squeezed your pussy around him and he jerked back, slamming into the wall behind him, looking at you with wild eyes. You managed a smile behind your hand, but what you’d done spurred him and he planted his feet to have more leverage to shove up into you.

That pulled you off balance and you fell forward onto his chest. He didn’t stop; now that he had more freedom to move he continued to fuck you at a faster pace, with more thrusting. The position also tipped your pelvis which put more direct pressure on your clit, making pleasure spike upward into your gut. It was your turn to bury your face in his neck and shoulder, and you panted hotly onto his skin.

“Baby–oh fuck–” he groaned.

Through the panting, you grabbed a chunk of his skin to steady yourself, and that made him lose his words and keen instead.

He stilled for a second, held in place between your teeth, his hands on your hips, and his cock in your pussy. Then, with an involuntary buck and further keening wheeze, his entire body tensed as he came.

The bridge of his body pressed strongly on your clit and it couldn’t be true but you would’ve sworn you felt his cock pulse his release into you. Your pleasure almost peaked, you were just ready to topple over the edge of ecstacy, and he relaxed with a groan.

You continued to pant. Under you, Beetlejuice trembled and finally, pushed himself back upright.

“Jesus, baby,” he croaked in a dry voice.

You gave him a slight smile.

He swallowed, then his eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Oh shit. You didn’t come, did you?”

You shook your head and dropped your eyes“Shit. Shit!”

Now it was your turn to shush him. “Beej. Beej! Shhh! It’s okay, it’s okay, you can make it up to me later–”

“I’ll make it up to you!” he said, as if he hadn’t heard you. He took your shoulders so you had no choice but to look at him. “Promise, babe. You buy this sexy-ass outfit, and I am going to ravish you every time you wear it. It’ll get to the point that you’re gonna get wet just putting it on, like a Pavlovian response, you know? From all the times I’m gonna make you come in it–”

His voice got louder towards the end of his vow, and you hurriedly kissed him on the mouth to shut him up. He returned it eagerly, and with that plus the fact you were still sitting atop him, his cock still deep inside you, you believed him.

You let the kiss linger for a moment, then carefully stood up off of him. The wet spot he’d mentioned earlier on the front of his trousers was wide and obvious and you knew he didn’t care the least bit about it. Carefully you pulled the somehow unspoiled but slightly wrinkled babydoll lingerie over your head, slipped it over a hanger, and wiggled back into your street clothes. That was made slightly difficult as Beetlejuice kept pinching you, until you batted him away and shoo’ed him off.

He left as silently as he’d arrived, blowing you a saucy kiss as he disappeared.

You looked at the state of the mess the dressing room was still in, with discarded scraps of lingerie everywhere. Beetlejuice felt so guilty you probably should have made him straighten it up! And, if you sniffed deeply, there was the underlying odor of sex lingering in the tiny room.

Oh well.

Quickly you threw everything back together, ignored if it was hanging crooked, and put everything but the one piece on a rack outside the door.

Just as you took a step towards the checkout counter, a gravelly voice whispered close to your ear, “Hurry up babe–I’m ready for round two!”

Beetlejuice was nowhere to be seen, but you rushed to complete your purchase and get the heck home.

fin!

#beetlejuice #betelguese #writing #fanfiction

173 notes · View notes

diyunho · 5 years ago

Text

The Joker x Reader - “John Wick” Part 3

Y/N left The Organization 3 years ago for the one reason strong enough to make her settle down: love. But after tragedy crushed her to pieces, she decided to leave The Joker and seek refuge with an old friend and mentor - John Wick. Needless to say The King of Gotham can’t accept his wife running away without a word, especially since he didn’t have a chance to tell her things she might want to hear.

Part 1 Part 2

The Joker listens at the bedroom’s door, impatient to have a conversation with you. It seems you are engaged into a fervent phone call with Winston and figured he shouldn’t interrupt.

“Please, anything you can discover would be a great help! U-hum… U-hum… Thank you,” and you hang up, which queues your husband to walk into the room.

You completely ignore him, scrolling through the numerous text messages you sent to your connections; several are already answering back and hopefully you can get some news soon. The more people are involved into the project, the more chances to find Kase and untangle the mystery of what happened to him after he was removed from the car.

“You left me there,” The Joker sneaks in and closes the door behind him. “Luckily we had Wick with us so he gave me a ride.”

No reaction. He takes a deep breath, trying to get your awareness.

“I didn’t sleep with Evelyn; sex wasn’t the reason why I kept visiting her. I know how that asshole made it sound and he was totally out of line!”

You quickly glance at him, busy replying to Ares since you feel you’re going to explode soon.

“The only skill I was interested in is the fact that she is an excellent painter and a popular art smuggler, OK?” J raises his voice, sort of annoyed you neglect to participate into his monologue. “I did not cheat, alright?” he approaches his wife. “First of all: I’m VERY picky! Second of all: why would I want a woman everyone else had?! I don’t like used toys. Third: nobody’s been polishing my gun as you tastefully addressed the issue! I have one Queen and I married her!!”

A little bit of doubt in your eyes and he utilizes the opportunity.

“You said you saw me going to her house? I did! The Bowery King asked if it was for the last 6 months? Yeah, I did! You know why?!”

At least now The Joker got your attention: you play it cool but he guesses you’re torn apart by his confession.

Many unfortunate events crammed in lately and hating the man you love made life infinitely more unbearable.

“Why…?” you barely muster the strength to inquire and he sees it as a possibility to mend a few broken pieces; although you can hide your emotions well, J can still read between the lines.

Maybe that’s why he answers with another question:

“Do you realize there are just three Monet paintings in circulation on the black market in the entire world? You admire his work and it took a lot of effort and a substantial fortune to acquire The Water Lily Pond painting. Evelyn Black helped with the transaction, then I had her make some modifications to the original masterpiece.”

You keep staring at The King of Gotham, uncertain about the stuff being tossed your way: is he lying or telling the truth?... In your line of work translating feelings is a huge part of the job; ultimately you had the best mentor to teach you the ropes when you started with the organization: none other than the legendary Baba Yaga. Despite his reputation and to your own amazement, John was one of the few hitmen with integrity and perfectly mastered the aptitude of not being a jerk. Such a rare gem… And blissfully unaware of it himself.

On the opposite end, The Joker is a jerk and flawlessly acquainted with his own “captivating” personality that made you fall in love with him anyway.

Also, doesn’t appear to be deceitful for the moment.

And you despise yourself even more for wanting to believe him.

“What… modifications?...” you throw him a bone and J is definitely not going to pass on the alternative of explaining his actions.

“I wanted to surprise you so I took advantage of Miss Black’s capabilities in the art field; I had her add small images to the authentic canvas: an evolution of you being pregnant, the nine frames culminating with a tenth: the new mother holding our son. Similar to a timeline,” he emphasize and you look intrigued, which might be a positive sign. “Needless to say it was tedious, difficult work, especially because she had to apply special pigments you can’t find at every corner of the street. Apparently you can’t mix old paint with contemporary shades, thus I had to order aged, special colors from Italy, Spain and France. That’s why I went to her place so often: I had to supervise the long process and make sure it turns out astonishing. Then…” and The Joker pauses,”…Kase was gone and I didn’t know what to do with my gift: bring it home or not? Would you have loved it? Would it make you sadder? I continued to drive to Evelyn’s and glare at the stupid painting for hours, undecided on what to do…”

J watches you bite on your cheek, then straightens his shoulders as you utter the words:

“… … … You ruined a genuine Monet?”

Your spouse might be a smooth talker when needed, yet he’s not wasting his versatility on this statement:

“I didn’t ruin it; I made it better!”

Silence from both parties. A good or bad omen? Hard to decipher the riddle with two individuals tangled into a relationship that somehow worked despite countless peculiarities meant to keep them apart.

“I have to talk to Jonathan,” you finally mutter and The Joker steps in front of you.

“Talk to me!”

“Unless you know the exact location of the suitcase full of gold coins he’s been safekeeping for me, I really have to speak to him. Or do you want to hammer the whole basement searching for it?”

Y/N walks out of the bedroom and J lingers inside, evesdropping on the conversation happening downstairs. He can’t understand the chat, but you are probably notifying John about the details your husband left out.

Might as well join the party, therefore The Clown pops up in the living room with a plea impossible to refuse:

“Hey Wick, can I stay here? I don’t care if you say no, I’m not going to leave.”

Your friend crosses his arms on his chest, focusing on the random topic:

“How could I deny such a polite request? Of course you can stay Mister Joker; my house is your house.”

You’re watching the free show unamused; usually it would make you smile…now you lack the depth for such connotations.

“Don’t get smart with me, Wick!” J growls and Jonathan pushes for a tiny, unnecessary quarrel.

“I’m not; although generally speaking, I fancy considering myself a smart guy.”

The Joker opens his mouth and you’re not in the mood for whatever the heck they’re initiating:

“I’m going to pump, then after you dig out the suitcase I’ll take half to the Bowery King,” you announce your plans to them.

“You can do that and rest; I’ll deliver the coins,” John immediately offers. “I can stop by Aurelio’s car shop and ask for his collaboration: he has a lot of associates, doesn’t hurt to get him involved. You have plenty of gold.”

“I have two more suitcases in the Continental’s safe and two more at The Penthouse. It doesn’t matter if it’s all gone as long as I can find my son.”

“I know gold coins are preferred; don’t forget we have a lot of money too,” J reckons with spite.

Is he reminding you or Jonathan?...

*************

Your husband spent the last hour in the garden, talking and texting with a lot of people; needless to mention he’s capitalizing on his network also. Winston disclosed Stonneberg’s contract is still opened, meaning the son of a bitch is out there; you have to scoop him before anybody else does.

“Y/N…” The Joker tiptoes in your quarters. “I thought you were taking a nap,” he huffs when he sees you at the edge of the bed.

You glare at the vial on the nightstand, sharing your idea for a future you wish will come true:

“I didn’t have my medicine in two days; I won’t take it anymore because if we get Kase back… I will nurse him. It all goes in the milk and I want to be able to feed my baby… Do you think his little heart is still beating?...” you sniffle and J is currently debating on a clever response since his mind is blank; one could deduce messing up is encoded in his DNA, but on such a huge scale… well, it gives new interpretations to the term even for him.

The grieving woman seeking reassurance for their loss is trying to make sense of the pointless occurrences that lead to Kase being an innocent victim and The Joker can’t render clarification: he has no clue why he asked her to marry him and why she said yes, it’s not that he’s husband material or a family man. Perhaps Y/N thought he could be… just enough to get by, that’s why she accepted his proposal.

Most women would have cringed at the concept. Most women. Not Y/N.

Most women would have flinched at the notion of having his baby. Most women. Not his wife.

Above all, she trusted J with their son and he treated the three weeks old like a trinket: didn’t drive him home because he had an important meeting, didn’t bother to assign escorting cars nor extra security. The King of Gotham took his child’s safety lightly and it definitely had severe consequences. Too late now to fix past mistakes... but he can attempt.

“You’ll be able to nurse him, OK?” he sits by you and hands over his cell. “Can you enter your phone number in here? Or am I not allowed to have the present digits?”

You’re hesitant and he slides the screen while you hold the gadget.

“Lemme help you,” The Joker sarcastically mumbles. “It should be the first on my list, right where the old number you canceled was.”

You exhale and fulfill his demand out of pure frustration when he squeezes in a second innocent petition.

“Chose my avatar.”

You grunt at his rubbish, scrolling through his folders for a picture anyway; J hopes the largest file will get your attention and that’s the point. How could Y/N miss it?!

Entitled “Baby”, the humongous cluster of pics contains 5,723 items. You open it quite absorbed by its size; what’s more puzzling is the collection depicting Kase’s ultrasounds, hundreds of frames with you being pregnant taken without you knowing: there’s a few when your ankles were so swollen you had to sleep with your feet up on 4 pillows, others with you munching on strange food you craved, more with you in the shower focused on your bump, a decent amount of couple selfies when you were sleeping and J had to immortalize the moment without waking you up and approximately 1,500 images of the newborn.

“You didn’t gross me out when you were pregnant,” The Joker reminds a teary Y/N. “Not sure why you would believe such aberration...” he pulls you on his knees and yanks the phone away, tossing it on the nightstand. “I would also like to underline I didn’t have an affair with Miss Black, alright?”

J lifts your chin up, forcing to look at him.

“Let’s put it this way: why would I fuck around with another woman when I have a wife at home that wants to kill me on a regular basis, hm? Where would the fun be? I mean, she didn’t pull the trigger yet but it’s exciting to hope she might. You know me: I’m a sucker for thrills!”

“Do I?”

“Huh?” J steals a kiss and you frown at his sleekness.

“Know you?”

“Yeah,” the green haired Clown acts composed while in fact his feathers are ruffled. Before you catch onto it he has to ultimately admit: “I’m sorry I didn’t drive the car… I should have…”

The Joker holds in his breath when your arms go around his neck very tight.

“I’m suffocating…” he grumbles. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to hug me or choke me to death,” J keeps on caressing your hair, prepared to block your attack in case you’re actually in killing mode.

This is the excitement he was speaking about: with you, one could never know until it’s a done deal.

“I bumped into Magnus at the Continental,” you give him a bit of space to inhale much needed air and The Joker is surprised at your revelation. “I had no idea about his scheme, otherwise I would have skinned him alive right on the hotel grounds! I wouldn’t have cared about the consequences!”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” J cuts you off and he can tell you’re getting mad; maybe you think he doesn’t give a damn but the reason is simple. “You would’ve been declared excommunicado for murder on neutral ground and I don’t want my wife to be the target of such punishment from the company she so proudly retired from. I need my partner!”

The King of Gotham touches your forehead with his as you whisper:

“I hate you!”

“Mmm, regarding this true love affirmation, I’m gonna need you to take a break from detesting me until we have Kase, then you can despise me full throttle again. Deal?” he extends the palm of his hand and you reluctantly shake it, not realizing you’re reacting to his nonsense. “Is that a smile?” J returns the favor with one of his creepy silver grins.

“No.”

“Liar,” he pecks your lips and can’t explain the weird feeling in his heart when you kiss him back.

*************

Jonathan enters the house and becomes suspicious after a few minutes: too much silence.

Omg! Did you and The Joker engaged into a brawling that ended up badly? Did you end each other?!

John frantically runs to the garage, nervous to see your car and J’s are still parked inside. Shit!

“Y/N?” he shouts, concerned about your fate; The Joker’s… irrelevant. Nobody in the garden, patio is empty also. Downstairs is deserted thus he rushes upstairs to your room. The door is not completely shut and he slowly pushes it, knocking.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

The first thing he notices are clothes scattered on the floor, then he halts his movement at the sight of Y/N and her husband dozing off on the bed sideways: the naked bodies are covered with a blanket, but he can tell you’re snuggled in J’s arms.

Jonathan steps backwards, guilty of invading his guests’ privacy; he certainly didn’t expect to intrude in such a manner and softly closes the door, grateful it’s not what he feared.

You and The Joker are so worn out the sound of your phones vibrating on the nightstand doesn’t wake you from the deep sleep. Your numerous contacts keep replying back to the text messages, the most important one showing up on his cell: one of the people J reached to is Evelyn Black and the two sentence conversation lights up the screen.

“Let me know if you see Stonnenberg.”

“He’s here.”