#I actually don’t know his last name. all characters are listen because erm… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yunagalvan · 4 years ago

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Fred Weasley One Shot (with a madeup character named Haliwell Galvan)

Summary: Haliwell Galvan is best friends with George Weasley. After he finds out she had trouble sleeping sometimes he lets her sleep with him, but it seems as if their plan doesn’t work well on one night. Fred and Hali finds themselves unable to sleep without eachother.

A/N: New user to tumblr and I had been writing this in my free time just to make the days a little more fun. Thought why not post it I’m sure at least one person may enjoy it.

Warnings: None. Grammar Mistakes prob.

Word count: 6352 (A lot I know)

“Sleep well last night?” George questioned, sporting a lazy smile as he spooned some scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Not at all actually,” She huffed, taking a seat next to him. She rubbed her aching eyes.

“Couldn’t you tell George? She’s got bags the size of Snape’s robes under her eyes,” Fred chuckled, leaning to catch a glance of Hali’s tired expression. George elbowed him in the ribcage.

“Ow! Git,” Fred muttered before turning back to chatting with Lee Jordan who was sat across from him.

George leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Even though you find me and my cold hands utterly repulsive, if you think sleeping next to someone will help you fall asleep, you can sleep next to me anytime. I know how much you need to sleep. And don’t bother waking me up, I’ll be grumpy,” He finished turning back to his eggs.

“You sure?” She asked. She wondered if they’d get in trouble or what kind of treatment his dorm-mates would give him if they found out, especially Fred. Of course, she knew either wasn’t a concern to him. She knew getting in trouble never crossed his mind and that he wouldn’t care what kind of jokes arose because they’d always been best friends, just best friends.

With no hesitation he answered back, “Of course.”

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Lee had interjected, an eyebrow raised.

“Nothing concerning you,” Hali responded, giving George a quick wink. Fred wondered what George had said to her and why she’d given him a wink, but figured he’d just get it out of George later.

That had happened during their sixth year, and George managed to keep his offer a secret between him and Hali. During their seventh year she had fallen asleep early on the night, and at that point, the noise of the storm outside had been bearable. Rain hadn’t been violently rapping against her window and the wind wasn’t howling fiercely. However, later in the night, a particularly loud rumble of sudden thunder woke her up from a nightmare she was having. The situation was now bittersweet for she had escaped her nightmare, but was now left to perpetually be kept awake by the ravaging storm outside. She turned over to her side, facing away from the window and shut her eyes. She feebly attempted to fall back into unconsciousness but her mind was racing. In a couple hours she would be tested in transfigurations and she’d only been able to complete the difficult vanishing spell a few times. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to do it tomorrow- well technically today- but she yearned for the few hours of thoughtless bliss sleep would provide for her.

After 15 minutes of tossing and turning in her four poster bed, she quietly moved her curtains aside and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. Her body shivered as her bare feet contacted the cold floor. Her socks had been lost somewhere in her bed and she was too tired to feel around for them in the dim light. The storm outside provided some light, but her eyes were barely open. Her left eye remained completely closed, as her right eye struggled to stay open. As she straightened her back, and her hands flew to grip her biceps. She drew in a sharp breath, and rubbed her arms in an attempt to create some heat.

She gingerly tiptoed past her sleeping dorm-mates and began to hastily descend the cold, stone stairs which led to the gryffindor common room. As she made her way down the spiral staircase, her eyes adjusted to the bright flames each held by a sconce.

She rushed across the common room floor which would lead to the tower that housed the boys. She huffed and puffed as she walked up what seemed like an infinite amount of stairs. She was still bringing in sharp breaths and shivering when she reached the 6th years dorms. She easily navigated her way to George’s dorm as she’d gone there many times in order to retrieve some object he or Fred had stolen from her.

She quickly shuffled over to George’s bed and was able to slip easily under his covers and next to him since he was rolled away from her and was practically dangling off of the side of the bed. The light from the storm outside barely illuminated the back of his head but she rolled over to face away from him, pressing her back against his. She shut her eyes and relaxed at the feeling of his warmth behind her.

Although she always vocalized how much she hated when people touched her, she felt strangely serene, although she’d never tell anyone except George that.

Hali drifted off to sleep and woke up to a warm arm curled around her waist. She groggily wrapped her left hand around his wrist and removed his uncharacteristically warm hand from the skin of her stomach. She dropped his arm limply behind her and sleepily fled the boys’ dormitory.

She slept the remainder of the time in her own bed and when it was time to eat breakfast she plopped down in her usual seat next to George.

“Morning, ‘Hali,” George greeted happily.

“Morning George,” She smiled, fully rested.

“Got a good night’s sleep last night, eh?” Fred grinned into his bite of roasted potatoes. Although there was something patronizing about the way he said it, Hali's mind immediately thought he’d seen her in George’s bed. A heatwave of paranoia settled through her.

“Yeah… I did,” She answered giving George a wide-eyed suspicious look. He gave her a confused one back, but she ignored it and delved into her breakfast.

“Did you tell him?” She muttered to George under her breath.

“Tell him what?” George playfully asked.

“Our- sleeping agreement,” She quietly answered.

“Er- no?”

“Why’s he being so weird then?” Hali anxiously questioned.

“I mean- he’s Fred, he’s always weird. I think he’s just happy- said something about having a really good night of sleep this morning, but I thought he was just sayin that to annoy me since he slept in my bed last night-“

“He- He WHAT?” Hali vocalized earning a wide eyed look from Lee and Fred. Hali stood up and dragged a still-sitting-down George away from the table and out into the hall.

She dragged him around a corner as he stumbled and struggled to balance himself after being abruptly dragged across the dining hall.

“What’s wrong? You’re being mad right now!” George breathed.

“I slept in your dorm last night. And I thought I was sleeping next to you! Because I was in your bed!” She explained, obviously flustered.

“You- He- my bed?” George stuttered.

“The storm woke me up last night, and I thought I was sleeping next to you but- You know I knew something was off, you never touch me when you’re sleeping. His hands are way warmer than yours by the way,” She concluded, crossed armed.

“His hands? He touched you?” George said eyebrows furrowing.

“Oh come on- He was sleeping. Don’t get all big brother on me now against your own brother who was in your bed,” She deadpanned, seeing George agitated, “Why was he in your bed in the first place?”

George rubbed the back of his neck guiltily,” Alright well… We were playing catch with some dungbombs and you know- one exploded on his bed and I uh- I had thrown it of course. I cleaned it, but he swore it still smelled like dung so he said he wanted to trade beds until the stench was gone.”

She took a deep breath in and rolled her eyes.

“You guys talking about me?” Fred’s voice spoke from behind her. She threw an elbow into his stomach and then turned around to face him. He was doubled over, holding his stomach, a pained smile coating his face.

“Fred-“ George started an uncommonly serious look on his face.

Hali stopped George and motioned for him to go back into the hall, “It’s fine. I’ll handle it.”

Fred was standing up straight now, and waved sarcastically to his grumbling brother as he walked back into the dining hall. He was still sporting a wide grin when he turned to face Hali.

“Care to explain?” She began, tapping her foot.

“Explain what?” He eagerly simpered.

“You think you’re being so cute, hm? Stop smiling, you look like an idiot,” Hali spoke, visibly annoyed.

His smile faltered, “Listen, I didn’t know you and George were…”

“What? Sleeping together?” Her face dropped at her wording and his eyebrows rose up in surprise, “I don’t mean like that. I mean literally just sleeping. I only do it when I can’t sleep,” She explained.

“That’s a relief and weirdly understandable,” Fred thought outloud.

“What?”

“Well, who wouldn’t want to wake up next to a girl? It’s like the best surprise a guy could get,” Fred explained smiling down at her.

“Why you-“ She rose a closed fisted ready to give him a punch in shoulder which would at most leave a slight stinging sensation on his arm.

He grabbed her wrist before her hand met his arm, “Relax, Haliwell. I’m kidding- well not really but- I didn’t know about your ‘sleeping arrangements’ and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I- erm- kind of thought I was in a dream to be honest. But after I woke up for a second time and you were still there I realized it was real. I’m sure you prefer George, you two have always been closer, but uh it was nice,” His voice got quieter as he went on, finally settling on a whisper when he reached the last sentence. His grip loosened on her wrist.

She didn’t know what to say, there’s no way he would have known she wouldn’t be able to sleep and he seemed genuinely sorry. She was skeptical of his behavior though, because he was being unusually expressive and helpful.

“I didn’t hate it, but your hands are much warmer than George’s so it was a nice change,” She admitted to him. She started to think about what he said about it being a dream. She decided it was her turn to bother him.

“You said you thought it was a dream?” Hali asked smiling slightly, “Why would you be having a dream about me in bed with you, Fred Weasley?”

The tips of his ears flushed a deep red, unfortunately not hidden by his fiery red hair since he had cut it this past summer. His flustered look quickly disappeared as he regained his false confidence and he leaned over to her ear.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” He breathed, his breath tickling her ear. She felt a wave of heat wash over her chest, but quickly disguised her surprise with disgust.

She let out a disgusted scoff, “You’re so...“

He waited for her insult, “I’m so what?” Fred smiled seeing through her fake disgust. He saw how red her cheeks were and knew she was embarrassed.

“You’re so much better to sleep with than George,” She murmured looking up at him through her lashes.

“Really?” He questioned, thinking back to the feeling of her against him.

She placed her hands on the back of his neck and slowly brought him down to her face. He felt his heart rate increase. Was this a dream? He asked himself. He didn’t remember when he had put his hands on her waist, but he quickly became very aware of how close her face was to his. As she brought his face closer to hers, he shut his eyes.

Just as her lips barely brushed his, she whispered, “No.”

She let go of his neck and quickly walked past him and back into the dining hall. He let out a heavy breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He ran a hand through his hair, and even though she’d barely touched him, he felt completely disheveled.

How had he let his guard down so easily? She’d always acted so cold towards him and always turned to talk to George. The sudden change in behavior threw him off. He wasn’t complaining about it, just disappointed in himself for losing control so quickly

He composed himself and finished his breakfast in record time. George noticed his haste, but was just proud of Hali for putting Fred in his place.

“I would’ve expected him to tell you or wake you or something,” George muttered before gulping down the rest of his pumpkin juice.

She shrugged, “It’s alright, George. I handled it and he seemed genuinely sorry.”

Hali continued her day and noticed how the tips of Fred’s ears turned a scarlet red everytime she made eye contact with him the rest of the day. Of course, he would throw some obscene gesture or give her a silly grin back.

She successfully vanished her set object completely in Transfigurations class and glided through the rest of her school day in a good mood.

“So, how’d it go?” George asked before plopping down next to her. He had presumably just finished quidditch practice as she could smell the dirt and sweat radiating off of him. Usually she’d swat him away with a nearby textbook, but she was in an exceptionally good mood today.

“It was brilliant. I did it no problem!” She beamed as he removed his quidditch jersey.

“That’s great, Hali. Listen, off topic question but what the bloody hell did you say to Fred? He’s been off all day. Missed nearly every swing in practice. Wood’s gone mad,” George stated.

She narrowed her eyes at the portrait hole and rubbed them. Her eyesight had gotten blurry from straining to read the school work she’d been doing.

“He’s not gonna walk through there is he?” She questioned.

“Nope. I specifically skipped the showers in the changing rooms to give me time to ask you what the bloody hell you’ve done to my twin,” George explained, sweaty locks of hair coating his forehead.

“I mean- I just said his hands are warmer than yours and-“ She began to laugh. Her small giggles soon grew into roaring laughter and George furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

“Haliwell Galvan, what did you do?” He asked.

Her laughter only extended when he used her full name.

“Okay listen, you can’t tell anyone. But you know I thought it- okay since he hadn’t bothered to tell me he was Fred and let me sleep with him the whole night, I thought it’d be funny to mess with him a little. I thought If he was okay with me sleeping next to him he’s either a perv or he’s got a little crush, so I utilized my resources-“

“Oh Hali you didn’t-“

“No, I didn’t do anything to your precious brother. I just acted like I was going to kiss him, then I didn’t. I thought it’d be a good punishment, boys hate that. Been thinking about it all day he has.”

George lifted himself off of the couch, a small smile playing at his lips. He pointed a finger at her, “You’re evil you know that?”

She shrugged, “What can I say? It’s a gift really.”

George sighed and pressed his fingers to his temples, “Okay, he’s definitely going to kill me when he finds out I told you, but you know he had a giant crush on you first year right?”

Her eyebrows slightly rose and a devilish grin crawled onto her face, “You know- that explains why he was so irritatingly- just so evil to me first year. Poor Freddie didn’t know how to act, eh?”

“Don’t be so happy. You’re not out of the bushes yet. I reckon what you did this morning confused him. And from what I saw during practice and basically all day today, he’s very confused.”

“Oh he’ll get over it. He’s not exactly a one-woman-willy. And don’t tell me he didn’t deserve it because he did,” She pointed a stern finger at George.

“As a man, I can fully say he did not deserve that. What you did this morning- you’ve stolen his manhood you have. You need to give it back. I want my bloody brother back!” George dramatically explained, failing to keep a straight face.

“Are you telling me to kiss your brother?” She questioned her face contorting into a disgusted expression.

“Oh, don’t act so disgusted. We’ve kissed before; Just imagine he’s me. Shouldn’t be too hard,” George simpered running a hand through his wet locks.

“Okay, that was not real. It was for a dare and I felt like I was kissing my brother. It was weird,” She explained recalling how wrong it felt to kiss her best friend last year. Even though it was a short peck and lasted barely a second, she still couldn’t shake how peculiar it felt.

“Well, you better figure something out, Hal,” George laughed before trudging downstairs to the showers. Hali continued to do her ancient runes homework. As the minutes went by she heard more Gryffindor’s slip through the portrait.

Oliver Wood stepped through the portrait and casually strolled toward Hali.

“Oi, Galvan, figure you could replace Fred and be the new beater? I’m about ready to play his position for him after today’s practice,” He huffed, his clean scent replacing George’s previously sweaty one.

She chuckled, “Wood, you know my parents don’t want me playing quidditch anymore after I got my face smashed in my 5th year. Besides I was joking when I said I’d reckon I could be a better beater than Fred. I’ve got arms the size of a wand.”

He let out an exasperated sigh and moved onto the next unsuspecting Gryffindor in the common room.

The next person to walk through the portrait was Fred. She looked up at him from her book, a small smile growing on her face. He gave her his signature confident smile, but quickly broke his eye contact with her. He began to make his way toward her while peering at the now busling common room and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Seat taken?” He asked peering at the cushion next to her.

She jutted out her bottom lip and shook her head. Fred quickly settled himself next to her and peered at the crackling fire.

“Wood reckons I should take your spot as Gryffindor beat, you hear?” She questioned closing her textbook.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, crossing his legs and setting his arm across the back of the couch.

“Yeah,” She looked behind her at his arm which spanned the pillow, “And I’m starting to think I agree. You’re looking a bit small there, Weasley.”

He laughed dryly at her attempt at insulting him.

“Seriously though, something on your mind?” She innocently smiled at him even though she knew exactly what had caused his lack in skill during the quidditch practice.

The smile on his face fell and he let out a cough.

“No, just had a bad day. Why, should something be on my mind?” He questioned coyly.

She gave him a toothy smile and leaned towards him once again, but not as close as she had been to him this morning.

She looked down at his lips, “No,” she whispered. She got up from the couch. He quickly wrapped his hand around her wrist, stopping her from leaving.

“It’s still storming out,” He told her, the light from the fire twinkling in his eye. She looked down at his hand on her wrist.

“Better keep your hands warm then, yeah?” She retorted walking up to her dorm.

This time Fred smiled to himself as she left him. He eventually caught up with Lee and George and spent the rest of the night thinking up ways to irk their classmates.

Eventually, they all fell in and went to sleep, but Fred’s mind was too busy to sleep. Yes, the rain pattering on the window didn’t help, but he expected his thoughts to slow down so he could fall asleep. It was 1 a.m. and as he laid flat on his back with his left hand tucked under his head, he couldn’t help but wait for Hali’s footsteps to enter his dorm room. His ears perked up at every creak and tap, but she never came. Eventually, he grew tired and his thoughts faded.

Hali had been fast asleep since 11 p.m. and didn’t stir at all that night. Despite the storm and the whipping winds, she slept peacefully. She did, however, wake in the morning to the cold air of her dorm room and couldn’t help but wish she’d felt the warmth of someone next to her.

She dismissed the thought and continued to sleep soundlessly for the next month. Her relationship with Fred returned to normal, with his occasional flirty comments and her cold responses. Every once in a while she threw him off, but never twice in a row did she allow his flirtatious actions.

During mid-december on a particularly windy night, the persistent tapping of her windowsill kept her awake and irate. The rate at which the tapping occurred gave her enough time to grow tired, then would rip her away from rest at the very last second. Frustrated, she grabbed a nearby jumper and her “Hogwarts: A History” book, which all those around her had seen her read at least once this past month since she was prone to read it whenever she found herself with free time.

While seeing a student who fell asleep in the common room wasn’t unusual, she always loathed the idea of being found in the morning with her mouth wide open and her hair knotted to oblivion. But right now, the mere idea of sleep was all the yearned for. She didn’t care about the situation she would get into, as long as she could sleep.

The universe has a sick sense of humor.

As she tiredly read the pages in her book, she heard the heavy footsteps of another half asleep Gryffindor clomp down the stairs.

He jumped at the sight of another student in the common room.

“Well, well, Welly” Fred said in a low groggy voice.

She craned her neck to face him and closed her book, folding the corner page.

“You’re half asleep, and still insist on calling me that god awful name,” She deadpanned.

He gave her a tired smile, “Trouble sleeping?” He asked, yawning.

She nodded, “You too?”

He nodded, “Came to get my mug,” He shuffled over to a wooden table on her left. On top of it, a slightly misshapen green mug sat. He scooped it into his hand before conjuring a stream of water from his wand.

He began to sip at the water and Hali went back to reading her book. She wondered if she should ask to sleep in his bed.

“You should come up with me,” He said slowly like he was thinking about what he was saying, “- And you know slip into George’s bed. Get some sleep, Welly.”

She smiled down at her book, and shook her head.

“Have you ever noticed that George is like a human fridge? Like I think he actually steals heat from me. It’s bloody freezing tonight,” Hali chuckled, pulling her sweater sleeves over her hands.

“Well, I think we’ve got an opportunity to solve both of our issues here,” Fred offered, his tone slightly more awake.

She sighed, “Fred Weasley, are you going to ask me to sleep with you?”

“I wasn’t going to say it like that. But- yeah. You did say I was warmer than George,” He reminded her before gulping down the rest of his water and setting it down on the table.

“Fine. But you don’t tell anyone. Not even George. I just- I’m so tired,” She yawned before closing her book once again, tucking it under her arm and walking past him. As her foot stepped onto the stairs leading to his dorm she turned around, “Come on then.”

He let out a small laugh, “That was easy.”

“You know, this is a one time thing right,” She informed him as they made their way up the spiral staircase.

“‘Course.”

Fred smiled to himself as the possibility of this happening again crossed his mind. And it did happen.. Again. And Again. Eventually, she found herself awake late at night when it wasn’t storming outside. And so on some perfectly quiet, peaceful, dry nights, Fred would wake up to a pleasant surprise which of course was Hali next to him.

The sun was beginning to rise when she woke up. Her hands were bunched up against his chest, her face nestled into the crook of his neck. She tried to slip away from him quietly without waking him up, but his arms wouldn’t budge.

“Fred,” She whispered pulling her face away from his neck.

“Fred, Let go. I need to leave.”

He let out a grumble, “Stay.”

“Freddie, I can’t.”

“You never… never call me that,” He muttered sleepily.

“Fred, please let go,” she begged but he tightened his arms around her waist.

She looked up at his face, his eyes still closed.

“I’ll let you go, only if you give me a good morning kiss,” He sleepily smiled knowing she’d have no choice but to stay locked in his embrace.

She slid her hands onto the back of his neck once again, leaving goosebumps on his skin. She softly pressed her lips to his, his eyes opening in surprise, but her lips were gone as soon as they came.

“If only every morning started this way,” He thought, his eyes fluttering back closed. He loosened his grip as he had agreed and presumably fell back asleep.

She left quickly and slept the remainder of the time before her roommates woke her for class.

When Fred woke up, he was unsure if he had dreamed the whole thing. Hali was certainly acting like he had. She was still giving George more attention than him. She still dismissed his flirtatious comments. She gave no indication that she had kissed him that morning. Nonetheless, Fred thought the next time he got her alone he should ask her. Hell, he’d asked her weirder things than that. If it hadn’t happened, she’d certainly just think he was hitting on her as usual and she’d dismiss him as always.

So, when classes were over and she was nowhere to be seen, he went to the place George said she spent the most time at. He hadn’t been to the library that many times in his past 6 years at Hogwarts. He felt strange walking around searching for her because he felt like everyone who knew him knew he never went to the library. He felt like he wasn’t supposed to be there, but maybe that was just because of what he was going to ask his brother’s best friend of 6 years.

He spent a few minutes wandering around the library peering around each bookcase, his eyes scanning for her. When he found her, she had her knees pulled up to her chest, he shins pressed against the side of the table. Her hands gripped the same book she’d been reading for the last 2 months. He was surprised she hadn’t finished it by now, but he assumed she had probably read it more than once at that point.

She noticed flaming red hair in her peripheral vision and looked up from her book.

“Frederick- In the library?” She whispered quizzically while turning the page of her book.

He didn’t respond. He hadn’t thought of what he was going to say.

“Thought you were George for a second, but you’re not. He’s got sadder eyes than you,” She quietly laughed pressing down on her eyelids so they were more droopy.

He let out a dry laugh, before taking a seat next to her

“What’re you doing here?” She asked before her eyes moved in Madam Pince’s direction. She knew how Madam Pince felt about disturbances in the library and Fred was about the worst disturbance there could be. Hali liked the quiet of the library which was why she only sat in the common room when most people weren’t there. She hoped Fred wouldn’t get her kicked out of the library, but his signature sinister look was no where to be found. So, she thought he had come to say something of importance.

“I’ve uh- got to ask you something,” He quickly muttered while scratching the back of his hand.

“Go on then, quick before Madam Pince catches us talking.”

“Did you… did you kiss me this morning?” Fred whispered his hand flying to rub the back of his neck.

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, “Fred, I didn’t kiss you much less wake up next to you this morning. I slept alone last night.”

He felt his chest flood with embarrassment. It had all been a dream? She saw his mind moving at a million miles a second and decided to spare him the embarrassment.

“I’m only joking. So what if I did?” She simpered.

“So, it wasn’t a dream?”

“No. I’m not surprised you thought it was. You were half asleep when you asked me to kiss you,” She explained quietly.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to actually do it,” He answered, rolling up one of his sleeves. She glanced down at his forearm; she’d always liked his arms.

“Well, I needed to leave. And you had an iron grip so I was given a solution to an issue and I used the solution.”

“I didn’t want it to go like that,” He grumbled sitting back in the rickety chair.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter. You know- you can’t just kiss someone and act like it doesn’t mean anything to you,” He whispered, obviously annoyed.

“People kiss people all the time. Hell, I see you kiss girls all the time. Does that always mean something to you?”

“Yeah, it does,” He quickly answered.

“Bullshit. It doesn’t and you know it,” She noticed his annoyed expression. While she’d observed his odd behavior towards her for the last few months, she was sure she was imagining it and her actions towards him barely crossed his mind. She was just a body for him to hold at night. Nothing more. “What? Does it bother you that I don’t worship you? That I’m not begging you to date me like all the others? Shouldn’t you be happy I know everything means nothing to you?” She spat forgetting about Madam Pince.

“No-I’m not happy,” He responded, his jaw clenched.

“What do you want me to do? Huh, Fred? ‘Oh Freddie let’s go to Madam Puddifoots and have a cup of tea’ I can’t do that for you because I know you don’t want that. You don’t date girls, you can’t committ-“

“Me? You’re one to talk. George has never told me about you having any boyfriends. I’ve never even heard you were dating anybody. The rumors are always about you and some ever-changing guy. It’s never the same guy.”

“Have you maybe thought for one second that George doesn’t tell you everything about me? Granted, I don’t date, but maybe if you asked me instead of pestering me about it I’d tell you why,” Her face was hot. She was angry at him for assuming things and speaking about things he knew nothing about.

“Fine. Why? Why don’t you date?”

“Did George tell you who my first kiss was?”

He shook his head not knowing what this had to do with anything.

“Roger Davies. I caught him snogging some other girl a few days after he kissed me. I really thought he liked me Fred, but we weren’t dating or anything. Maybe I overreacted but, after that I assumed that everyone just wanted their freedom, and I never assumed anything was special,” She explained more calmly, like she’d told this story before.

“That’s bloody stupid,” He concluded now feeling guilty. George never told him that.

“It’s alright. It was a good lesson I guess-“

“No- I mean. Kisses can be special, Hal,” He interrupted her, a sad look spread across his face.

“Well, every guy I’ve kissed doesn’t seem to think that. So, I think I’ll just keep believing what I believe.”

He got up to leave, but before he turned around he thought he could try to change her stubborn mind.

“You know, after you kissed me the first thought that popped into my head was ‘If only every morning started this way,’ “ He admitted quickly before leaving.

She furrowed her brows, turning back to her book. She tried to finish reading the paragraph she’d left off on but she found herself repeating the same sentence over and over in her head. If only every morning started this way.

For a second she thought that was Fred’s way of telling her he thought it was special, but she shook her head. For the next month, she slept alone every night no matter the weather. She hadn’t spoken to Fred much after their argument in the library. Fred assumed she wanted nothing to do with him, and she assumed Fred wanted nothing to do with her. The most they’d said to each other was “Happy Christmas” before leaving for the holidays.

On one particular night, it was snowing and she had been laying in bed for hours. She couldn’t sleep, and not because of any noise, but because she felt like something was missing. The words “If only every morning could start like this,” echoed in her head.

She was standing in his doorway before she knew it. He was facing away from her, on the edge of the bed just like the first time. There was plenty of room for her on the bed and she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d slept that way on purpose, in hopes of waking up with her there. She turned her wonder into courage and walked over to his bed.

She poked his shoulder, “Fred.”

He woke up at the sound of her voice. He hadn’t heard it since before break.

“Hali?” He questioned rolling over to face her.

She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, so she said the first thing that popped into her head, “Fred, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Welly. It’s not your fault…” He sighed tiredly and rolled over to face her, “You just need to realize that sometimes that kind of stuff means something,” He responded pulling the covers up to his shoulders.

She sat down on the side of his bed, her back facing him.

“I know it means something to me. Sometimes it doesn’t mean anything to the other person. And it’s just easier to convince myself it means nothing,” She explained, her elbows resting on her knees.

“You don’t have to explain anything. Just- Just know sometimes the things you do matter to other people,” He murmured watching her back rise and fall with each breath.

She turned her head to face him, the moonlight barely reaching her features, “It meant something to you, didn’t it? When I kissed you?” She whispered.

The corner of his mouth lifted up, “Are you going to get in or what?” He asked, flipping the corner of his covers over.

“I’ll get in if you answer my question,” She responded, bringing one leg onto his mattress.

“Of course it did Hal. You were the first girl I ever loved,” He muttered tiredly.

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, “Fred?”

His smile had faded, and his breathing had slowed.

“Fred, I know you’re still awake,” She said twisting her body so she could poke him.

“We can talk about it tomorrow. Just not now. I just want to sleep right now.”

She brought her other leg onto the mattress and flipped the covers over herself. He reached out and pulled her flush against him after hearing her shuffling noises subside. She would probably never tell him, but she had missed the feeling of his arms wrapped around her waist. She’d missed the feeling of his breath against the back of her neck.

She pulled him into the most isolated table in the library after quidditch practice the next day. She sat him down quickly before fixing a rogue hair that was standing up oddly on his head, his hair still wet from his recent shower.

“If only you’d been there with me, you could have fixed it before I left the shower,” He snickered, earning a slap on the shoulder from her.

“We’ll see who’s laughing in a few minutes when I remind you of what Sleepy Fred said last night,” Hali said, taking a seat beside him.

“No, no. I remember. Sleepy Fred always speaks the truth. I mean yeah- I loved you. You know whatever love means to a 12 year old, but I thought you were wicked,” He let out a short laugh.

“Thought?” Hali responded, an eyebrow raised.

“Still do,” Fred winked.

She gave him a toothless smile, “I like 17 year old Fred a lot more than 12 year old Fred.”

“Yeah, how much?”

“Enough to give him a good morning kiss, I reckon,” She shrugged.

He checked the time on his nonexistent wrist watch, “Well, it’s not morning, but I could go for an evening kiss,” He said leaning towards her with his lips pursed.

She swatted him away, “Oh, it’s not that easy Fred. You’re going to have to wait a bit longer for another kiss.”

“Yeah? Why’s that then?” He asked his chin resting on his own interlaced fingers like a child.

“Don’t you think it means more if you wait?” She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

He shook his hand and let out a laugh in disbelief, “God, I’m so screwed aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” She faked a sad expression before popping up from her seat and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, “You’ll survive.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley one shot #harry potter

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scamanderishredmayniac · 8 months ago

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Sorry it took so long to do this. Anyways here goes nothing.

3 ships: oh boy this is hard, I’m not much of a shipper, it’s very rarely that I do. I tend to stick to cannon more, even in my writing. Although occasionally I’ll ship characters with OCs more than anything. Although there was a point after watching CoG, where I shipped (ok the NewTina fans are gonna flame me for this), Theseus witb Tina. 😁🙈 because in my head they just make a better match, and I did want NewLeta to be a thing. I just felt a connection between the two. But let’s be honest as much as I like the idea of Newt and Leta together, Imm acting sick of all JK’s characters falling for their best friends. It’s as though she has no imagination when it comes to love interests. Nearly every character in the Hp series ended up with someone from their friends circle, without really being adventurous and branching out and finding love in new places. You can have best friends or just friends from opposite gender, without falling in love with them you know.

I also shipped Attorny Whoo with Jin-ho, (I think that’s what his name was, can’t remember) but that became cannon, so can that really be classed as a ship?

I also kinda shipped Zukko with Kitara, I don’t know it just felt like one of those enemies to lovers kind of idea. I just liked the idea of him annoying her, and trying to win her heart Bollywood style. Like in Mr India or k3G, I’m trying to think of others, where it’s like “Tum? ya ha?” (Translation: you? Here?) Ha meh ya ha (yes I’m here) and then big grin 😁 and then later somehow he wins her over with something stupid. (Acting call me weird but that’s how I see in cannon Newt and Tina’s relationship starting with Newt being annoying to Tina, to then her thinking actually this idiots kind of cute). Oh sorry my thoughts went on a tangent and ran away with me.

First ship: Erm I actually don’t know. I might have shipped Snape and Lilly as well, because I liked Snilly better than Jilly. Ok only because I thought it was stupid she ends up with the guy she thought was a jerk. 🤷🏻‍♀️ just my thoughts. But that was short lived. I read loads of Snape & OC fanfic that I liked that better. Still don’t like jilly in cannon. Sorry.

Last song: Don’t know, can’t remember. I think it was a Bollywood song but can’t remember which one. Or it could have been a Dollywood song, 🤷🏻‍♀️ how could I have forgotten when it was only yesterday that I listened to music. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Currently reading: A song of ice and fire, book 1-4 of A game of thrones. So long man! Just finish already. Five thousand and fifty something pages. Oh man!

Craving: Nothing at the moment.

Oh man! It’s always hard to know who to tag. I don’t know, and anyone else who wants to play. Open tag!

Nine People You'd Like To Get To Know Better

thank you to @tadpal for the tag

3 ships: uhhhhhh dang i dont really ship so much just have opinions on what canon is doing soo uh gwynplaine+dea [the blueprint the icon the everything] higgs+zeetha [jock4jock] and how could i forget grimaud+milady everyone should ship grimmilady [it came to me in a dream and its such a concept]

first ship: ive been a consumer of media from a very young age and also have memory issues so i cant say for certain its the first but wesley+buttercup is a good bet

last song: desperate measures by marianas trench [ive been osscilating between pop punk and club bangerz to keep my energy up while sewing]

currently reading: technically nothing rn but ive been stopped halfway through the dracula caper for a while and i need to get back to it, also ive been flipping through vdb since my mom's reading it now

last movie: the second bourboulon trois mousquetaires! it was not good lol, and according to the rest of the watch group understanding french would not have helped me. lowkey i still hope they make a third one bc im soooo curious what the plan for this setup is

currently craving: a fanciful fruited beverage

tagging: @mothqueton @irianeth @caecilian-king @counterwiddershins @amypihcs @fwipination @gato1523 @earthly-apples @pilferingapples is that nine?? i think thats nine

#tag games

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wonjaekook · 5 years ago

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Golden Sweet, Golden Sick

A/N: I want to make it very, very clear that I am in no way encouraging this kind of behavior or saying it’s okay, at all, ever. Like everything I write here, this is entirely a work of fiction and is not intended to portray the real personalities of any of the people involved. If someone does anything like this to you or you do this to anyone else in real life, please find help. That being said, this is a type of character that I’ve never written before and it was kind of interesting to write; this is very much meant to be a story-driven piece. Stay safe and enjoy :) (I also have a Jaemin fluff coming soon to make up for this!)

21 Tropes: 11. Yandere + gold w/Jaemin

Description: You would be his forever, one way or another.

Word Count: 14k

Genre: horror/thriller, fluff (kind of?), angst (kind of?), slight smut/suggestive (nothing super explicit in that realm, but there are multiple mentions/allusions)

Warnings: creepy behavior, blood, death, very descriptive violence (seriously, it gets bad), manipulation, drugging, swearing, alcohol, mild suggestive/sexual content and mentions, all around bad things

He doesn’t know when he started feeling this way about you. Na Jaemin has always been the perfect example of everything - athlete, student, boyfriend. Then, you came along and tore his world apart. The more time he spent with you, the more he thought about you until every other breath he took was solely for you. He knows it’s not normal. Yet… he doesn’t feel like there’s anything he can do about it now. It’s too big. It hurts and it feels so good at the same time. It’s a reason. A force propelling him towards something: you. He also knows he would treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Cared for. Protected. Loved. So, he listens as you talk to Heejin, straining his ears against the noise of the lunch room.

“You know that new exchange student from Germany, Liu Yangyang? I really like him.”

“Oh?” Your best friend gives you a knowing smile. “I didn’t know you were into foreign boys.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

Heejin laughs at your bashfulness. “Do you think he likes you back?”

“I don’t know,” you say, cheeks pink at the idea. “He’s really sweet and funny to me and…”

Heejin hooks an arm around your shoulder. “If he doesn’t like you back, he’s an idiot. Look at you! You’re perfect wife material.”

“Hold it right there,” you say, holding up your hands in a ‘stop’ gesture. “No one said anything about being anyone’s wife. We’re still in high school and it’s just a crush.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Are you going to ask him out?”

“Maybe on White Day? Is that too cheesy?” The thought of asking him out makes you nervous, but you can’t just expect him to come to you first. He might be too shy.

“Y/N, you’re too cute for this world.” As she affectionately pinches your cheek, the bell signaling the end of lunch rings, cueing all the students in the cafeteria to get up and rush to class. Your best friend starts backing away in the opposite direction than you’re headed. “See you after class!”

You’re blissfully unaware of Jaemin’s eyes following you.

About a week later, you’re gearing up for White Day in a few days when you get the news. You respond with a broken heart, thinking about how the chocolates you had prepared at home are now going to waste, after Heejin tells you what she heard from some of Yangyang’s friends. “He’s going back? To Germany?”

“Yeah… it’s a shame he has to go back home early. I wonder what happened.” She looks at you. “Hey! Maybe this is your chance. Even if you don’t think you can do long distance, you should tell him how you feel anyway.”

“I… okay!” Taking your best friend’s advice, you run outside to meet Yangyang after classes are over. The question of why he didn’t tell you he was leaving earlier in the class you had with him itches in your mind. You consider yourself to be friends at the very least - why hadn’t he told you? A moment after you think that, you spot him. When he sees you approach, you think you see him tense up. “Yangyang!”

“Y-Y/N…” He seems anxious, his eyes dart around and he’s shifting uncomfortably.

Brushing off his strange disposition, you jump straight to the point. “Yangyang, are you really going back to Germany?”

“Erm, yeah… family… I mean! Personal… stuff.” His eyes land on something behind you for a moment, remaining fixed there, before he looks down at the ground.

“Oh,” you pause, solidifying your decision that you have to tell him after hearing him confirm it himself. “I just wanted to tell you that… I like you. I’m sorry I don’t have any chocolate or anything to make it a proper confession, but-”

“It’s fine!” Yangyang’s words come out rushed and high-pitched. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I can’t accept your confession. I really have to go, sorry.” Your heart sinks at his words, a sad pout adorning your lips. With one last glance behind you, Yangyang practically bolts away, heading towards the student parking lot. Trying to follow where his eyes were, you glance behind you, but see nothing of interest. There’s no one there. With a heavy heart, you trudge back into the school. How had he gone from warm to cold with you in such a short amount of time?

The first thing you do is seek out your best friend. She looks excited to see you for a second before she notices you moping. “Did it go badly?”

You nod, dropping down to sit on the stairs next to her. “He rejected me. He was even acting weird! So closed-off and distant. It wasn’t like him. Am I that off-putting?” You try to pull out your phone, look at your appearance, but Heejin grabs it from you, putting it facedown on one of the steps.

“No! No way it’s you, it’s definitely him!” The indignant face she makes has you feeling a bit reassured. “He’s probably distracted by whatever it is that’s making him go home. You’ll find someone better anyways, I promise.”

You sigh, resting your chin on your hand. “It just sucks.”

“I know. But, hey, it’s okay. It would’ve been hard to have a relationship with an exchange student anyways.” Heejin pats you comfortingly on the pat, attempting to reassure you.

“I know, I just…” You sigh heavily again, blowing some hair out of your eyes.

Heejin glances at her phone and shifts uncomfortably. “Y/N, I’m sorry, but I really have to go…”

“That’s okay, your review session is important. I’ll be fine.” You scrub at your eyes, not caring about the redness you’re causing. You’re not crying yet, but you feel like you’re on the verge of doing so.

“Text me if you wanna hang out later?” Once you nod, Heejin bids you farewell and hurries away. With your best friend gone, you can’t help but feel a little more lonely.

At that moment, Jaemin is walking by, but he stops when he sees you with tears in your eyes. He knows instantly that his plan worked. Well, he knew that it worked when he saw your interaction with Yangyang, but the further proof is encouragement to him. The sadness on your face almost makes him regret what he did, but he knows he can make you happier than Yangyang ever would. If there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s that. “Y/N,” he says, feigning confusion, “what’s wrong?”

You would say you’re acquaintances, kind of friends at best, with Jaemin - you’ve had a few classes together and hung out in groups before, but you’re not close. You’re a little hesitant to answer, but you figure he’s just asking out of courtesy. “Nothing,” you say, sniffling slightly, “I’m fine.”

“Y/N…” The tone with which he says your name is gentle and pleasant to your ears, almost relaxing. He closes the distance between the two of you, sitting down next to you on the stairs. “You can tell me. We’re friends, right?”

That makes you look up. Na Jaemin, one of the most popular, good-looking boys at your school, considers you a friend? Then again, he’s also renowned as one of the sweets guys in your grade, the type to take care of abandoned kittens he finds in cardboard boxes and walk grannies across the street. The smile he gives you tells you that he’s being sincere, so you can’t help but give him a tiny, sad smile back. “I just got rejected.”

His eyes widen. “Who would reject you?”

“Liu Yangyang. I confessed to him because he’s going back to Germany soon, but he doesn’t feel the same.” Saying it out loud, you realize how silly you sound being so upset about it. Like Heejin said, it really wouldn’t work out with him being so far away. “God, I’m so stupid. Sorry for bothering you with this, Jaemin. I probably look like an idiot right now.”

“You aren’t stupid! Anyone would be upset if they got rejected.” He doesn’t know who to be angry at for making you feel this way about yourself - himself or Yangyang. Your pain hurts him ten times as much it hurts you.

“Thanks, Jaemin,” you mumble.

“What can I do to make you feel better?” He contemplates for a moment and, before you can tell him that he doesn’t need to do anything else, he stands up. “That’s it! Let’s get ice cream.”

“Jaemin, you really don’t have to-”

“It’s my treat, come on!” He takes your hand, pulling you to your feet. Seeing that he’s not giving up, you reluctantly let him guide you. It’s a little colder outside than when you met Yangyang earlier given the season and time of day. You expect that he’ll just take you to the convenience store across the street from the school, but he keeps going, bringing you to an actual ice cream shop two blocks away. Every so often while you’re walking, he’ll glance behind him, like he’s making sure you’re still there, and smile at you. It feels nice to be acknowledged like that.

He relishes in how you let him take your hand and guide you down the street. He had let go after he helped you up because it would have been a little strange if he kept holding on to you when you’re not that close yet, but the warmth of your hand lingers on his fingertips.

The little bell on the door dings as he pushes it open, holding it for you. Walking in, you give a small bow to the man behind the counter. You’re about to order when Jaemin stops you with a hand on your forearm. “My treat, remember?”

After he asks you what you want, you watch him go up and order, smiling at the cashier, polite as his reputation says. Even in his school uniform, he looks exceedingly handsome. Jaemin returns to you a moment later, handing you your ice cream, and you thank him. You sit with him, eating your respective flavors, when you decide to prod him a little. “Jaemin, why are you going through all of this trouble just for me? I’m sure you’re busy.”

“I can’t just let my friend be sad. Plus, honestly, I’ve been wanting to get closer to you for a while now.” If you would have to place it, you would say Jaemin is acting shy. No way. Na Jaemin, shy about saying he wants to be better friends with you? If you were closer to him, you would call him cute for that.

None of what he said is a lie. It’s just not the full extent of the truth. He wants to be closer to you than anyone else. He wants you to only look at him. He blinks, looking away from you and trying to get the dark thoughts out of his head for now.

“Let’s hang out more, then,” you say, more cheery than you’ve looked since he’s met up with you. “We can be closer, if you want.”

You get Na Jaemin’s number that day after he happily agrees.

It’s not too long before you’ve forgotten almost entirely about Yangyang. Jaemin does a good job of getting your mind off of him, off of everything that’s preoccupying you, honestly. He’s almost a miracle cure, ready to talk whenever you need him, always kind, always charming. When he starts walking you to some of your classes, offering to carry your books like a character out of a movie, that’s when your heart finally melts for him.

As you get to know Jaemin, you also pinpoint what the unease you’ve been feeling for months is. It’s the feeling of eyes on you, at all hours of the day, when you’re in public, when you’re with family, when you’re with friends, when you’re alone. You’re not exactly sure when the feeling of someone watching you started. The ever-present pit of discomfort in your stomach. All you know is that Jaemin makes it better. With him, you feel safe.

He’s not sure when the longing started. The headaches. The constant need to be with you. All he knows is that only you make it better.

“Heejin, I like him so much, I don’t know what to do.” You clutch dramatically at your heart, pouting. “He’s just too perfect.”

Sadly, your best friend is more skeptical than you. “Yeah, that’s the problem. He’s too perfect and every girl falls for him.”

“He treats Y/N differently, though, you can see it,” your friend Renjun says from next to Heejin, looking up from his chemistry homework. “Believe me, I’ve known him for years. He only acts that way with girls he likes.”

“Injun, don’t give me hope.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m just telling you like it is. You know I’m not the type to sugarcoat.”

That’s true enough. Renjun is the one who started the group hangouts that you first spent time with Jaemin in and he has known him for much longer than you or Heejin. It’s also not in his personality to say things he doesn’t truly believe.

“Okay, that’s fair,” Heejin says, turning back to you. “Then, Y/N, if you were to go on the dream date with the dream boy, what would you even do?”

“If someone asks me out, I want our first date to be cute and simple. Let’s go take a walk in the park or something and get ice cream. Maybe give me a flower when he comes to get me. I dunno, maybe I’m being dumb,” you laugh, pushing your hair away from your face. The thought of going on a date with Jaemin- you mean, someone, has you feeling warm and blushy.

“There’s no use trying to be sly. When you say someone you mean Na Jaemin and you want ice cream because that’s where you had your first unofficial date,” Heejin says, smirking.

You stick out your tongue at her, scrunching up your face. “If you keep being weird about it, it won’t happen.”

To your surprise, despite Heejin’s continued weirdness about it, Jaemin approaches you the next day. Immediately after you greet him, he’s looking at you with those adorable doe eyes of his, making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. A simple, “Y/N, I like you a lot. Would you go on a date with me?” from him has your heart beating out of your chest and it takes all of your self control to not spin him in a circle and hug him right there.

Jaemin shows up to your first date that following Saturday with a single white and red carnation, which he tucks behind your ear when you meet him on the sidewalk.

If it’s possible, he’s even more perfect than what you imagined. He’s out of a dream - walking with you slowly, his hand brushing yours as you walk and talk, remembering your favorite flavor from the last time you got ice cream together. If you’ve never felt lovesick, you certainly feel it now. By the time the date is drawing to a close and Jaemin is walking you home, he’s politely asked if he can hold your hand, which you quickly obliged. You can’t help yourself from asking him about his decisions as you’re approaching your house.

“Jaemin, how’d you know?” His hand feels warm and comfortable in yours, your fingers interlaced. “Did Heejin tell you this is how I wanted a first date to be?”

He puts a perfect mask of surprise on his face. “Really? This is just how I thought the perfect first date should go and I thought you would like it, too.”

That, along with everything else, makes you feel like you’ve finally found the right guy. You feel safe with Jaemin, warm and secure, and the paranoid feeling of someone watching you isn’t present with him around. Maybe he’s your guardian angel. Maybe he’s your soulmate. Either way, you’re glad you found him.

He asks you to be his girlfriend after your second date, to which you eagerly agree. When you get home from that outing, your parents can see the change in your face and Heejin is the first to hear the news when you call her soon after. She mentions something about ‘if Na Jaemin ever hurts you’ but, in your joy, you insist that everything will be fine and peachy.

Two days later, when he meets you between classes at school, his hand instantly moves to interlace with yours as you walk, making your heart rate pick up and a light blush cover your cheeks. Each step seems almost lighter than the last and, when you would ordinarily shy away from the looks and whispers of your classmates as you pass by them, his warm gaze on you alone makes everything alright. When you reach your class, he stops, but doesn’t let go of your hand. There, in front of the prying eyes of your schoolmates, he leans down and kisses you for the first time. It’s soft, sweet, and very Jaemin, should you have to describe it. Your eyes, which you had instinctually shut when he moved closer, open after he pulls away and you find that he’s smiling brightly at you, a sort of happiness that you’ve never seen from anyone else before in his eyes.

“Have fun in class,” he says softly, as if he hadn’t just kissed you in front of everyone, before he walks off in the direction of his own class. You’re dizzy in the best way and practically glowing as you force your feet to move into the classroom and to your seat. Renjun, who you share the class with, looks up at you as you practically melt onto your desk and into your chair.

“Did Jaemin strike again?” He questions, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You nod, lifting your head to look at him. “He just kissed me in the hallway.”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Get a room. Seriously.”

You’re too distracted by the fuzzy warmth in your chest to reply something snappy back.

Jaemin makes a habit of sneaking little kisses between classes or after lunch or whenever else he gets a chance and you can’t say you mind it at all. After a little while, the small pecks he places on your lips when he drops you off at home or in any other area more hidden from the gazes of others become more intense, more full. His hands, once respectfully staying at your hips or cupping your cheeks, tangle in your hair and edge ever so slightly under your shirt after you say that it’s okay. Even so, he’s always one step ahead of you, always patient, always asking permission, always backing off when you give even the slightest sign of being uncomfortable. It’s a tugging back and forth of how far you’ll go that lasts for months, leaving you with a lot to think about when you’re alone at night. In those times, in your distracted state, you forget about the blinds of your room being open, your body on full display for anyone who may be looking in. Not that anyone should be watching you. Not that you think anyone is.

Every time, you let him push the boundary a little further until, one day, you’re at his house with the intention to study together. That intention is quickly forgotten as he murmurs sweet words in your ear about how ‘you look so pretty today’ and ‘that shade of lipgloss looks so nice on you, I wonder what it tastes like?’

With unmatched eagerness, you welcome his touch, his lips on yours, the little sighs he lets out as he kisses you and pulls you onto his lap. Your energy fades into uncertainty and insecurity as his hands drift to the edge of your shorts and his lips travel to nip and kiss at your pulse. He feels the change, but simply holds you closer, his fast heartbeat seemingly pounding into your chest because of your close proximity. He feels your heartbeat as much as you can feel his.

“Jaemin,” you murmur, distracted, as he presses kisses to your neck, “I’m a virgin. I don’t know if…”

He’s heard enough of your conversations about the topic with your other friends and watched enough of your late-night sessions to know. He would be upset with how sloppy you are about exposing your body to the light when your blinds are open, but it allows him the best view he’s ever had, so he figures that he can’t complain much. Not that he could ever tell you.

Once that confession leaves your lips, he pretends to be surprised, stopping his actions, straightening up, and cupping your cheek with his hand while looking in your eyes. You look so pretty there, your cheeks pink with embarrassment, lips parted and lipgloss smeared slightly, hair slightly out of place from when he ran his hands through it. Above all, he loves the feeling of being able to read exactly what you’re thinking from your eyes and the way your body is positioned. If he could keep you here like this forever, he would. “That’s okay. If you want to stop, I’ll wait for you. I don’t want to pressure you.”

He doesn’t have to worry about pressuring you. You’re his, anyways. His and his alone.

The warmth in his eyes is comforting to you. His free hand still strokes your side just under your shirt, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “I think… I want you to continue. Please.”

The slightest desperation in your voice sets him off. You want him. You need him. Your own desire for him brings him more pleasure than any amount of sex with someone else ever could. But he holds back the urge to just take you right then and there. “I’ll go slow, baby. Tell me to stop if you ever want me to.”

One day, maybe not soon, but eventually, he knows he’ll have you where you’ll never tell him to stop. You’ll want him just as much as he always wants you.

“I know we’ve never talked about it before, but I’ve been thinking. About the future, university, all of that.”

Jaemin’s words surprise you. Of course you had thought about bringing it up with him, but the past few months with him had passed so fast and so blissfully that the topic always slipped your mind with him. You hum in response, signaling him to continue.

“I want to go to Korea University.”

He had been listening to you gush about Korea University to your parents and other friends for months, so he’s nearly certain you would be happy when he says your own dream school is also his. However, your expression falls for a moment, throwing him off. Are you not happy he wants to go to the same school as you?

You pull yourself together quickly, forcing a smile onto your face. “That’s great, Jaemin! What makes you want to go there?”

You want to go there. “Well, their academics are great, and…” As he gives the speech he had rehearsed about the school, he watches the flickers of insecurity swim in your eyes, your smile a poor mask for how you really feel. “Where do you want to go?”

You clear your throat, your toe nudging the floor awkwardly. “I… I actually want to go to Korea University, too.”

He reaches for your hands, clasping them gently in his. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t know whether you should tell him or not, but you know by now that he won’t give up on getting the truth from you until you’ve spilled it. With a sigh, you try to find the words to explain how you feel. “I just don’t want it to seem like I’m just following you. I don’t wanna come off as some clingy girlfriend who only chose a university because her boyfriend wants to go there. I don’t know, does that make sense?”

Voicing your thoughts out loud, you suddenly feel stupid, like you’re making this out to be a bigger deal than it is.

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, all Jaemin feels is regret. He made you feel this way? How could he do that? It’s a sinking pit of disappointment and anger in himself that makes it hard for him to speak for a moment. But, he’s become far good at acting to show his internal frustration now. He squeezes your hands, making you look up at him. “Y/N, I promise you don’t sound like that at all.” I’m a fucking idiot. “It’s just a happy coincidence. You should go wherever you want to without caring where I’m going.” I can’t be without you. “You’re your own person. Nobody thinks you’re just following me.” I want to worship the ground you walk on.

“Really? I… thanks, Jaemin.” He lets his regret serve as a lesson for how to approach these kinds of things with you in the future. I’ll never let you get hurt again, not from me, not from anyone. Never again.

When you and Jaemin move in to Korea University in the fall, the way your excitement lights up your eyes makes him feel equally as giddy. Of course, he also has his own reasons. For the most part, any of the guys that even remotely present a threat to your relationship back off as soon as they see your hand in his. You make safe friends who do safe things. He can keep you even closer than before. For once, he feels secure. At least, for a little while.

There’s one guy. In your calculus class. Jaemin doesn’t like him. Not at all. He doesn’t like the way he looks at you or the way he trails you slightly after class. You’re clearly uncomfortable because of him, too. He’s overheard you tell him, ‘please leave me alone, I have a boyfriend.’ When he doesn’t back off, that’s justification enough. Jaemin only plans it out a little bit. The red haze that takes over his vision every time he sees that guy is the final push. That guy… he’s easy enough to follow. Easy enough to trap in a secluded place. To Jaemin’s surprise, he’s even easy enough to kill, too. There’s no blood. He doesn’t even struggle as much as he thought he would. If anything, it’s exhilarating. His breaths come quickly and shakily through the mask covering his face as the last of the light leaves the other guy’s eyes. He would never, ever bother you again. Taking someone else’s life to protect you? It’s the highest form of protection. The highest form of love. That first kill… it feels almost as good as when you first told him you loved him. This way, he can show evidence of his devotion to you. Not that he can tell you. You’re too soft-hearted to know. But, now… now, you’re safe. That’s what he tells himself, as he walks home, as he throws the clothes he was wearing in the washing machine, as he lies in bed and sends you his typical goodnight text. You’re safe. He can keep you safe, from now until forever. He wouldn’t think his next greatest concern would be so close to him.

One breezy fall day, Jeno texts him. He hadn’t seen him in a while - they went to separate high schools and then separate universities. Jaemin can’t say his mind has entirely been on his friend when he has other, closer people to worry about. Two years ago, that would’ve been a different story. Now, when his entire mind is consumed with you? The stray thought Jeno appears in is always a result of seeing his name pop up as the sender of a text.

JN: hey!! your best friend is coming to korea u for a baseball game on saturday!

JM: oh shit, really?

JN: hell yeah dude

JN: do you have any plans on friday?

JM: i actually have a date with my girlfriend that night

JN: i promise i won’t take up your whole night then! do you have any time to squeeze me

in? lmao

JM: i suppose, you wanna meet y/n?

When you first meet Jeno, everything is fine. He’s so similar to yet very different from Jaemin and has a nice smile. Jaemin had told you a little about him before but never elaborated, so you’re excited to talk to him more. Jeno has a natural, soft sort of charm about him and you quickly become comfortable with each other, unaware of the look that your boyfriend is giving you.

He had thought everything would be fine. For a moment, it is. He introduces you to Jeno, all smiles and jokes, but doesn’t realize his mistake until afterwards. He doesn’t like the way you smile at Jeno. Your smiles should be only for him. He shakes his head, trying to clear it. He hadn’t thought like that for a while, not since he got rid of the guy from your calculus class. But are thoughts like that all bad? He’s only looking out for your relationship. He’s only trying to keep you close to him.

It’s times like these he forgets about the adoring look you always have in your eyes for him, all the moments only he gets to witness, all the I love yous. All that’s left is the need to have your every expression, your every breath. No matter who stands in the way.

As the hour ticks on, he keeps coming back to that thought. Are you ignoring him? For Jeno? You wouldn’t even dream of cheating on him with his best friend, would you? No. His gaze turns to Jeno. He’s smiling that handsome, charming smile that makes even strangers on the street fall for him and Jaemin’s jaw clenches. How dare he look at you like that. How dare he.

Time passes far too quickly for you and Jeno and excruciatingly painfully slowly for Jaemin. Finally, finally, the hour is coming to a close and, when your boyfriend reminds you that you should leave soon, you step out to use the restroom. As soon as the door clicks shut, Jaemin turns to Jeno, grabs him by the collar, and slams him into the wall. With you gone, the ever-present pounding at Jaemin’s temples returns and his temper flares even more. Jeno groans, wincing as his head hits the concrete. “What the hell, Jaemin?”

“What the hell? What the hell is wrong with you?” His hand tightens around his collar. At that moment, when Jeno looks into his best friend’s eyes, all he sees is a profound emptiness. The Jaemin he knows is gone. Or was this Jaemin there the whole time? “Keep your eyes off of my girlfriend.”

“I don’t have my eyes on your girlfriend, you lunatic!” Jaemin’s knuckles press into Jeno’s collarbones. “You just introduced us!”

“I see you. I see the way you’re looking at her. Wanting to take her from me. Undressing her with your eyes. I thought I could trust you, but you’re like every other man. You’re-”

“You’re insane,” Jeno rasps, not fighting back for fear of hurting his friend. Even if he’s acting like this, he’s still Jaemin. Right? “What are you talking about? What happened to you? Jaem, I’m not trying to steal your girlfriend. You’ve known me for how long? You know I wouldn’t do that.”

Jaemin is practically shaking with rage, but Jeno’s words start to get to him. There’s clarity in his eyes for a moment, Jeno can see it. Right then, you open the door back into the room. You see Jaemin pinning Jeno to the wall and you frown, concern marring your beautiful face. Jaemin instantly relaxes. “Jaemin, what-”

He lets go of his friend and gives you a sweet smile. “It’s nothing.”

You glance at Jeno, who still looks shaken as he runs a hand through his hair and adjusts his shirt. “Jaemin-”

“We should go, right? The movie is in thirty minutes.” He reaches for your hand, taking it gently in his. When you keep looking at Jeno, who appears to be relatively untouched other than his slightly disheveled clothes and hair, your boyfriend’s eyes darken. You don’t see, but Jeno does. His blood cools, afraid of whatever is possessing his friend. The moment of clarity is gone. Jaemin’s face then morphs into a perfect mask that makes Jeno almost believe the encounter never happened. He tugs on your hand, getting your attention. “Come on, Y/N.”

“Alright…” You grab your bag, Jaemin’s hand never leaving yours. “It was nice finally meeting you, Jeno.”

“You… you, too.” The tone he’s using with you reminds you of an old memory, but you can’t quite place it. You let Jaemin pull you along and out the door. He starts up a new topic and you forget about the strange incident for a while. He’s always been too good at distracting you.

He’s in your dorm room that night, cuddling with you in your bed and holding you close with a hand on your hip and your head tucked in the crook of his neck. Mumbling into his chest, you reflect on your day. “It was really nice to finally meet Jeno.” He hums in response, hoping that’s all you’ll say about the topic. You continue. “Hm, I never got his Kakao. I-”

“Why do you need his Kakao?”

The way he interrupts you is uncharacteristic of him, so you shift in his arms, trying to look at him better. “What do you mean? He was fun to talk to. I could bug him and ask him questions about you.”

He relaxes at that. You’re too perfect - the definition of a loving, devoted girlfriend. The least he can do is give you that same devotion back by keeping you away from other temptations. Away from even Jeno, who he can’t trust anymore. Not after today. He sighs, his thumb running over your hip soothingly. “He’s garbage at responding to messages. You wouldn’t want to text him, anyways.”

“Mm, okay, whatever.” When you make a noise of contentment and lie back down in the same position as before, he knows everything is fine once again.

Jaemin lets himself get carried away far too often. He knows he does. But the way you make him feel - lighter than air, higher than the stars - is what causes it. He wouldn’t give that up for anything in the world. The sound of your clothing rustling and the little kisses you exchange with him in the library, in a secluded corner than hardly anyone goes to, sound so loud in the small space, but the feeling of being with each other is sweet enough for both of you to drop your guard for a little too long.

“Jaemin,” you half-whisper, half-giggle, “stop.”

His hand slides up your thigh slightly higher, the tickling sensation turning into something more warm and anticipatory. “Do you really want me to?”

You hide your mouth with your hand and mumble into it, your face growing hotter by the second. “Someone will see.”

“No one will see. Y/N…” His hand barely slips under the edge of your short skirt before you hear laughter from down the row of bookshelves. You and Jaemin both freeze, looking to the source. Three guys, one you recognize from one of your classes, are standing at the end of a nearby bookshelf. You had been so busy with Jaemin that you hadn’t noticed them approaching.

“Getting busy in the library, are we? Mind if we join?” You don’t catch the tightening of Jaemin’s jaw and the near murderous glint in his eyes. All you feel is your face heating up and embarrassment as you lift your boyfriend’s hand away from your thigh. After it leaves your skin, his hand curls into a fist.

“Yeah, we mind. Get lost.” Jaemin’s face displays irritation and a hint of a threat, but the guys just laugh.

“You’re telling us to get lost? We were just admiring you feeling up your pretty girl in the library.” A second guy speaks, his eyes raking over you, making you feel exposed.

Jaemin stands up suddenly, the chair squeaking backwards at the sudden movement and startling you. “You guys wanna die?”

“Jaemin, come on…” You reach up to grab his hand, tugging on it.

“What? I’m just complimenting your girl.”

“Bastard, keep your filthy eyes off of her or I’ll-”

“Jaemin,” you whisper, pleading with your eyes, “please.”

When he meets eyes with you, the tension in his shoulders loosens a bit and he sighs. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You laugh about the embarrassing incident with him later that night. A few hours later, his body count triples. The police report the accident as a drunken run-in with a group from the bad side of town. Jaemin watches you frown in concern when you see the news. The baseball bat he had used is shoved in a garbage bag under his bed.

The second year of university, he asks you if you want to move in with him. He had planted the seed of the idea in your head months before so that, when he finally asks, you eagerly say yes. You know your relationship with him is serious, more serious than the relationships any of your friends have, but you’re more than happy to take that step with him. Your parents love Jaemin, so you have no problem convincing them. In fact, as you move in, you have no problems at all. On the first day, you spend your time taking things out of boxes and dancing around the small apartment with your boyfriend, who takes every opportunity he can to pull you into hugs or plant kisses all over your face. Sunlight streams in through the windows that you have yet to put curtains on. After a break in the middle of the day to, well, break in the bed that the two of you will share, you finish setting up and step back, observing your new living space. Jaemin turns on some music, pulls you closer, and the two of you sway back and forth.

He can’t describe living with you as anything other than bliss. Where he can see you and hear you and feel you at so many hours of the day. Except, somehow, his head hurts even more when you’re gone. You… you’re the addiction he could never get rid of. He needs you. When you’re sad, he’s sad, when you’re happy, he’s happy.

You, on the other hand, walk a little faster past dark alleys, look around more than your friends do. It’s that feeling of eyes, still present whenever Jaemin is gone. You just want that feeling to go away.

When he comes home to the sound of you crying one night about a month into the semester, an unsettling feeling instinctually warps his emotions. His body instantly runs hot and cold and he sprints to where you are, seeing you curled up on your shared bed, sobs racking your body. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He tries to stay focused, but an all-consuming rage starts to fill him. Whoever made you cry is going to regret being born. He’ll punish them himself. You shake your head, continuing to sob, and he slowly unwraps your hands from around yourself, moving them until you’re clinging to him instead and he’s pulling you into his arms. “It’s okay, I’m here, it’s okay.” It takes you a few minutes more to calm down, your sobs slowly turning to sniffles and a few more silent tears. He strokes your hair, keeps your head cradled in the crook of his neck. “Tell me what happened, baby.”

You shake your head, mumbling out a response against his shirt. “It’s stupid…”

“You’re crying, it’s not stupid.” His voice is deadly serious, cold as stone, and you hug him tighter. He realizes how he sounds and softens his voice. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me…”

“Jaemin,” you say, your voice muffled, “you’re too good for me.”

His heart nearly stops. You’re in pain. You might leave him because you think he’s too good for you. You might leave him. “No,” he croaks out, his own emotions threatening to consume him, “I’m not. You’re the one who’s too good for me. Why would you ever think that?”

“This girl from my class… she said it and… it just got me thinking and… she’s right. You’re-”

Suddenly, Jaemin is kissing you. It’s not a new action, not in the slightest, but this kiss feels different somehow. He pulls away, leaving you breathless. “She’s wrong. Y/N, you’re perfect. You’re my entire world. If you think I’ll ever leave you,” you can’t leave me, “you’re wrong. You’re my sun, more precious than gold, and I’ll do anything for you. You’re my angel and without you, my world is dark. I would have nothing without you.” He finds his tongue loosened, spilling words that he wouldn’t normally admit, drunk on rage and desperation and the clawing fear that you’ll leave him. Don’t leave me don’t leave me don’t leave me. His hands tighten around you almost painfully. He kisses you again, a short press of his lips against yours, and lets out a shaky breath. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” You whisper against his lips, letting him kiss his love into you. With his words, your insecurity starts to melt away, leaving a different sort of nagging unease at the back of your mind. A bitter taste in the back of your throat that you can barely tell is there, but is sometimes strong enough that you can tell something is wrong and doesn’t go away even if you brush your teeth a thousand times. That sometimes comes and goes quickly as he starts to kiss you with a feverish need. You don’t know why, but something seems off about Jaemin.

A few hours later, he’s holding you, lying in bed with you. His hand cards through your hair, his eyes earnest and soft as he gazes at your now relaxed face. “Who was it? That said that to you.”

“Kim Yuna. From my biology class. You shouldn’t hate her, though. She’s probably just jealous that I have such a sweet, loving, handsome boyfriend.” He smiles at that, but his insides grow cold. Tomorrow night, maybe. That’s when he’ll punish her.

The next night, he slips a sleeping pill in your drink at dinner. A colorless, tasteless thing just so you won’t wake up when he leaves to do business that night. When you go to sleep, more drowsy than usual, Jaemin’s arm is around you, spooning you against his body, his own soft breaths landing on your exposed neck and his heartbeat not quite in sync with yours. You don’t feel as he untangles his body from yours after he’s sure your breathing has slowed enough for you to be asleep, you don’t see as he slips on a black hoodie, jeans, and gloves and steps outside, you don’t hear as Yuna screams when his blade sinks into her once for each tear she made you cry, you don’t realize what’s happening as he knocks out a homeless man that reeks of alcohol and presses the blade into his hand. All you know is the feeling of Jaemin wrapped around your body, embracing you loosely, the morning light coming through the curtains casting pretty shadows on his face, and the low, rumbly sound of his voice as he tells you “good morning” when the soft tracing of your fingertips on his cheekbones wakes him up.

On your third anniversary of being together, it seems like you and Jaemin have the same idea. You beat him to giving him his gift, presenting him with a gold colored ring, the outside carved with delicate vines and your anniversary date carved into the inside. You were afraid that it would be too much - you’re not even engaged yet, and you’re sure it’s a yet - but the way he hugs you and promises to wear it as much as he can validates your decision and you practically glow when you smile at him. Then, from the depths of one of his coat pockets where he was trying to keep it hidden from you, he pulls out a little box. Inside of the box is a beautiful, simple gold necklace. It has a tiny heart charm on it that, when you flip it over, has the hangul of Jaemin’s name carved into it.

“I always want to be close to your heart,” he says, a whispered confession in the space of your small apartment, “just like that.” After he secures the chain around your neck, you’re tugging him out the door, to the nearby ice cream shop that has replaced the one you used to go to back home and that both of you have grown to love.

It’s late by the time you get back and both of you have class tomorrow. You’re no longer shy about being naked in front of him, so, as you’re getting ready for bed, you don’t even ask him to leave the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches you change clothes, a smirk of satisfaction coming to his face. You’re his. The satisfying feeling that comes with you wearing the necklace with his name on it is the same contentment that comes with eating a good meal or waking up from a nice nap. He feels complete, whole, because you’ll always have a piece of him with you.

At least, it’s enough for a moment. Like with eating or sleeping, the feeling eventually fades and he’s left empty once again. He doesn’t even pretend he’s not watching you anymore. His eyebrows draw together, furrowing under the confusion he feels as he watches you reach behind your neck, attempting to unclasp the necklace. “What are you doing?”

“Hm? I’m getting ready for bed. What’s wrong?” You stop moving for a moment, giving him a look. There’s an expression on his face that you don’t recognize. His eyes are on your neck.

“You should keep it on.” He has enough control of himself that he can make it sound like a suggestion instead of the command he truly means it to be. There’s a crippling sort of fear inside of him at the thought of you taking off his gift. It’s not a feeling he can explain, but he’s certain something terrible will happen if you take it off. He doesn’t want you to take it off. You can’t take it off. The next word he lets out has a hint of his desperation leaking out. “Please.”

“Your necklace?” You muse, tracing the chain with your finger. “Jaem, I love you, but I’m trying to get ready for bed. I have to take it off.” You reach back again and he strides over to you quickly, his hands sealing over yours. His grip, normally warm and comforting, feels tight, choking now, his knuckles just barely pressing into your neck where his hands wrap around yours.

“Keep it on.” He insists again and you blink at him slowly. What’s wrong with him?

“Jaemin, I have to take it off. I don’t want to choke in my sleep,” you say, resisting the push of his hand against yours. His eyes are desperate, the chain on your neck straining slightly under the combined force of both of your hands as he fights against you.

“No. Don’t take it off.” The grip of his hands on yours suddenly becomes harsher, stronger, and you whimper, feeling the gold press marks into your skin.

“Jaemin, let go, that hurts!” Your back to your vanity, you can’t move away any further. When you look into his eyes, your stomach drops in fear. You had never seen him look this scary before, but at this moment, he is murderous, terrifying. This isn’t the sweet boy you had fallen in love with. Something is very, very wrong.

“Promise you won’t take it off. Promise!” The way he phrases it sounds almost childish, but you know there’s a threat behind the words. What would he do to you if you disobeyed him?

“Okay,” you say, voice barely a whisper, “I won’t take it off.”

His hand shakes as he unlatches it from the chain and cups your cheek. He’s normally warm, but not now. Now, he’s ice cold. “Promise me.” His eyes are full of passion, but somehow dull at the same time, as if he lost a part of himself and is trying to fill it in another way. He’s a void, empty and trying desperately to drag you in.

“I promise.” You force the words from your lips.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a lump catches in your throat as he reaches up to stroke your hair. You’re afraid of what you just agreed to. You don’t have the strength or will to pull away as he slowly presses his lips to yours. His lips, which had once been familiar, feel foreign now. His eyes still have that dullness to them when he pulls away. You used to think he had all the stars in the universe in his eyes, but now something has drawn all the light out of them. “I love you,” he says, those eyes burning deep into your own, sucking you in.

“I-” You don’t know anymore. “I love you, too, Jaemin.”

“You’re mine,” he says, pecking you on the lips again. “You’ll never leave me, right?” You shake your head, like you’re in a trance. “We’ll be together forever.”

“Forever.” You echo, your voice ringing hollow.

“Don’t be scared,” he murmurs, fingers grazing your cheek before they fall to take your hand, “let’s go to bed.” You let him lead you to the bed, let him tuck you in next to him, let him pull you into his arms, let him whisper goodnight to you like he usually does. There’s something so off-puttingly normal about the way he moves now that has you unmoving in his arms, tense and unable to relax. His arms around are usually so comforting, but now… now, they feel like bars of a cell. Shackles. What happened to him?

Sometime, somehow, you slip into a fitful sleep.

He can’t sleep. Not until he feels you relax in his arms, finally drifting off. The room is too dark for him to see more than just the faint outline of your features, but he stares, eyes wide open now that you’ve drifted off. Slowly, carefully, as to not disturb you, he untangles his limbs from yours. He just wants to see.

Slowly, he makes his way to the window, opening the curtains quietly. Cool moonlight bleeds through the glass, casting long shadows around him and falling on your figure. The gold chain on your neck still glitters, even with just that little bit of light reflecting off of it. From his view at the window, he swears he can still read his name engraved on the necklace and he can’t help but smile at the thought that you would be his forever.

The way you look, comfortably asleep in his bed, face and body completely relaxed and at ease, stills the pounding of his head for just a moment. It’s only gotten worse recently. The only time it doesn’t hurt is when he’s with you, when he can see you and feel you and touch you. You’re both his poison and his antidote. There is no cure. Not that he would want one - he only wants you. It feels like it’s only ever been you.

He wasn’t always like this, but, now, it’s hard to remember a time when he didn’t need you as much as he needs air. It wasn’t until he met you that he realized how dangerous the world is, how greedy the eyes of men are. You’re a flower that he needs to protect from anything that could harm or sully you. He will take care of you, even if it means putting you in a glass case and killing anyone who gets near.

That’s right - you would look prettiest if you stayed in this room forever, he’s sure. But you wouldn’t have that. That’s okay. If everyone else is part of the outside world, he would be the glass protecting you.

What good is a bird if it’s not in a cage?

Satisfied at the glimmer of gold around your neck, he draws the curtains shut once again and returns to your side.

You wake up before Jaemin does. The morning light dances over his face, making him look as pretty and innocent as ever. What happened to him last night? Your mind flashes back to the cold, empty look he had in his eyes, and all you can do is shut your eyes and turn away, facing the opposite direction from him. One of his arms is slung over your abdomen, but it feels like it’s burning into your skin. It’s early enough that your alarm hasn’t rung yet, but you know it will soon. You’ll have to go about your day like everything is fine and normal. That thought has your stomach turning. Just as you’re about to get up and out of bed, your morning alarm goes off. Jaemin groans and his eyes flicker open as he turns slightly, pressing the button to turn off the beeping. He shifts so that both of his arms are around you, pulling you against his body.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says in that gravelly morning voice of his between the moist kisses he plants on your neck. When you stiffen in his touch, he frowns, pulling away slightly. “What’s wrong?”

You muster up the courage to speak to him. “Jaemin, we have to talk about last night. What happened to you?”

He appears confused when you say that, which confuses you in turn. “What are you talking about? After we got back from getting ice cream, you were so tired that you went straight to bed. You barely even said goodnight before you were out.” Your eyebrows furrow. It felt so real. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“I…” Was that all it was? A really vivid dream? Now that you think about it, that makes sense - your Jaemin wouldn’t do something like that in reality. Lying in bed with you, he’s the Jaemin you’ve always known: his eyes soft and warm, his voice low and sweet, his arms gentle around you. “I guess so. Sorry, Jaem.”

His hand shifts under the covers so that it ghosts over your upper thigh. He looks at you with those pleading puppy eyes, his tongue not-so-subtly darting out to wet his lips. “I could make you feel better, if you want.”

You swallow hard, body already anticipating him. His distracting abilities are phenomenal and you really need that from him right now. You know his diversion would get rid of that last little bit of doubt in your mind and you always give yourself enough time before class to be ‘distracted’ by him, after all. Your golden necklace shines in the little bit of sunlight coming through the curtains as you move to get closer to him. “Shower first?”

“I prefer breakfast first.”

When you’re finally properly getting ready about thirty minutes later, you glance down after washing your face. On the palm of your hand is a trail of bruises shaped like the chains of your new necklace.

He made a mistake. That much he knows. The way you pull away from his touch, the lingering fear in your eyes, they hurt him more than anything. But, you kept the necklace on. Maybe he feels guilty, or like he’s slipping up. Maybe that’s why he agrees to go to your friend’s party with you a few weeks later. Prior to then, he always distracted you with dates and sex and anything else he could to keep you from going out to things like that but, now, maybe it’ll be okay. That’s what he convinces himself of for a few days.

Now, seeing you in the tight black dress that you had gotten for the occasion, anxiety about the event creeps up on him. His eyes rake over your figure and all he can think about is the attention you’ll get from other men, the lustful stares, the wandering hands. You can’t go out like that. That thought finally prompts him to speak. “Y/N, you shouldn’t wear that.”

“Why not? I think it looks good on me.” You twirl, as if your dress isn’t so tight that it’s incapable of flaring out. You try to be playful with him, hoping that what he said was a joke. When you came out, all dolled up for the party, you had expected a ‘wow’ or ‘isn’t my girlfriend so sexy?’ Anything but what had actually come out of his mouth.

“That’s not the point.” He grits his teeth, doubling down. Though the way the piece of fabric hugs your every curve is a welcome sight to him, his possessive side wins out - like it always does. After that slip-up with the necklace, he knows he should be trying harder to repress it so that you don’t notice, but he can’t help it. Not then, not now.

You stop moving, staring at him with a quirked eyebrow and a hand on your hip. He’s really serious? “The point of a party is to have fun and look good, is it not? Come on, Jaem. If you’re allowed to look good, so am I.”

“You look good in everything, “ he says, pushing his tongue to the inside of his cheek in frustration as he eyes you up and down once more, “you just shouldn’t wear… that.”

You press your lips together in a tight line. Your next words are a dare you hope he doesn’t take you up on. “And what do you mean by that, Na Jaemin?”

He grits his teeth again. You’re really not getting the message? “I don’t want you going out looking like a whore.”

Your eyes widen and he immediately knows he’s made another mistake. Before he can even attempt to apologize, you’re throwing on the black heels you bought to match your dress and hissing out a response. “Well, you can just stay home while your girlfriend of three years acts like a “whore” with her friends, then.” You raise your fingers to make air quotes around the offending word. The golden necklace with his name on it glimmers around your neck as you turn, grab your bag, and storm out the door.

Instantly, his head starts pounding and it feels like his heart has been filled with molten lava. “Fuck,” he hisses between gritted teeth, “fuck.” By the time he catches his breath and has the thought that he should catch you, apologize, do anything to stop you from going out, he knows you’re long gone, in your friend’s car who was coming to pick you up. He can’t make you come back. But, he can…

The jeans, loose button up, and baseball cap are a good enough disguise. You gave him the name of the club that party is at a few days ago, so it’s easy enough for him to make his way there and slip inside through a back door. Sit in a booth near you with a little divider that blocks his face unless you’re purposefully looking through it but doesn’t block the sound of your voice. Spare a glance at you before he sits down, where you’re so beautiful that you glow even under the dim lights of the club. At times, your voice is low enough that he can’t hear it over the throbbing bass filling the venue, but he hears enough. He can tell that when your friends ask what’s wrong, you’re trying to perk up and act like everything is okay, but it’s not. He upset you. But he can deal with that later. Right now, what matters is that you’re safe.

He hears as your friends get up to dance, but you say you want to finish your drink first and you’ll join them soon. The thought of you dancing with a stranger makes him swallow hard and clench his fists, the skin over his knuckles turning bone white, but he doesn’t have enough time to be angry about that before someone, recently emerging from the dance floor, sidles up to you. From his stagger and how his voice is far too loud, even for the club, Jaemin can tell he’s drunk. Whether he knows it or not, this man is choosing his fate by what he says next.

“Baby,” he drawls, making Jaemin want to gag and punch him at the same time, “why don’t you come dance? Give me some company.”

“I have all the company I want here,” you say back, your voice louder than normal but still more even and quiet than the stranger’s. You idly swirl the remainder of your fruity drink in its glass with sluggish circles of your wrist.

“Come on, have some fun. Have some fun now and we can have some fun later.” Jaemin’s breathing starts to come out unevenly, the edges of his vision turning red.

“I have a boyfriend. Please, leave me alone.” That makes the red go away for a moment and a swell of pride take its place. His beautiful, loyal girlfriend. That feeling goes away as the stranger speaks again.

“Bitches get boyfriends and start pretending they’re too good to have a little fun? Your dress screams that you’re begging for some dick. I could fuck you better than any-” With each word that comes out of that vile pig’s mouth, Jaemin’s nails press tighter into the skin of his palm, nearly drawing blood.

“I don’t appreciate you talking to my friend like that!”

He lets his shoulders sag as your friends approach from the dance floor, driving off the stranger. He leaves with a few more curses while Jaemin makes careful note of his face. His eyes lock on the table as he thinks about everything he could do to him for daring to even look at you. For a moment, it’s almost like he can already taste the blood. Then, just before he’s about to get up and tail the guy, he hears your soft sniffling and the consoling words of your friends.

“Y/N, it’s okay, he’s gone now! We can enjoy the rest of the night.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, quietly enough that he has to strain his ears, “I just started off the night really bad. Jaemin was supposed to come with me and I just totally stormed off without him and…” He can tell from your babbling that the alcohol is getting to you. “I want to go home. Knowing Jaemin, he’s probably beating himself up over this right now and I just don’t think I’m in the mood to be out right now. Sorry for ruining your party, Gowon.”

“It’s okay! You didn’t ruin anything. Go get your boy.” She cheers you on, much to Jaemin’s delight. You’ve always been soft-hearted enough that even when he said something unforgivable to you, you still want to go home to him. You’re wrapped around his finger even tighter than he thought you were. He can smile at that.

As you’re on your phone, arranging a pick up, he slips back out. No matter how much he wants to follow that guy, to punish him for what he said to you, it’s more important that he meet you now. When he gets back, he does his best to change, throwing the clothes that now stink of the club into his laundry basket, changing into something more casual, and spraying on an extra coat of the cologne he was already wearing, your favorite scent on him, just to mask the smell more. He hopes it’s enough that your tipsy self won’t notice. Not a moment later, you’re clumsily unlocking the door and walking in, shutting the door heavily behind you. He rises to meet you, emerging from the bedroom to see you throwing your heels to the side.

When he sees the tears in your eyes, he approaches you with a quiet call of your name. “Y/N? What happened?”.

“Jaemin, I’m sorry for walking out on you like that,” you sniffle, peering up at him with teary eyes, “I know you just care about me. You’re right, I shouldn’t have gone out wearing this. A guy tried to get me to go home with him and he told me he thought I wanted some dick because of my dress. I’m sorry.”

Another step forward, then closing the gap and working to dry the tears smearing your makeup. “No, baby, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have called you that. If I went to the party with you, that guy wouldn’t have even dared to approach. I know I hurt you, I’m sorry.” He pecks you on the lips several times and you wrap your arms around him in return, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. He hadn’t been drinking, but the sweetness of your lips drives him wild, making him feel dizzy and drunk. He mumbles against your lips. “Let me make it up to you.”

Later, when your body is still under the sheets, the gold chain still comfortably resting around your neck and your makeup sloppily wiped off in the few minutes you managed to stay awake after he was finished ‘making it up to you,’ he lies awake, watching your quiet breathing like he always does in times like these. If he stops looking at your face, he’s afraid the regret of not following the man who had harassed you would consume him, make his headache rise again, make him drag himself out of bed to go track him down, no matter how difficult of a task it is. Even when he pulls you closer and tries to sleep, all he can think about is him. His last thought before he drifts off himself is that he’ll find him. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon.

Jaemin isn’t sure whether to call it lucky or unlucky when he’s out on a picnic date with you, enjoying the setting sun in the park, and he sees the guy from the club. The man doesn’t seem to recognize the growing anger on his face, instead sauntering over to you and allowing Jaemin time to compose himself slightly.

“I’m sure you remember me from the club the other day, sweetheart.” Jaemin’s jaw clenches. How dare he speak to you? How dare he?

Your eyes also narrow, irritation clear on your face. “I thought I asked you to leave me alone.”

“And miss the chance to look at your pretty face?” His gaze then shifts over and he eyes Jaemin. “So, this is the cuck who lets his girlfriend go out dressed like a slut?”

“You’re the asshole who tries to hit on other guys’ girlfriends?” Jaemin fires back.

“Yeah, and I could’ve been successful if her friends hadn’t interfered.”

“You think you could piece of shit like you could ever get a girl like mine?”

“I could get a common whore like her any day.”

That comment is what has him leaping out of his seat and grabbing the man’s collar. His fist connects with the man’s face once, twice, three times, and he’s on the ground, kneeling over him and slamming his fists into whatever he can hit - eyes, nose, jaw - over and over again. He’s no match for your boyfriend and, for a moment, all you can do is watch. Watch as Jaemin effortlessly holds down this man and hits him, blood covering his fist from where the other man’s nose is now clearly broken. Luckily, the area is pretty abandoned, so no one is there to witness the incident, but you’re still yelling, grabbing onto Jaemin’s shoulders and shrieking at him to get off of the man. Jaemin’s fists slow and you pull him off the other guy, who crawls backwards, spitting blood.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?!” His face is all shades of red and purple, blood smearing across his nose and mouth when he wipes at it. “You’re fucking insane!”

“Yeah?” Jaemin says, his voice eerily even. He’s not even breathing hard. It’s like all he had done was stand up. Subconsciously, your nails dig into his arm and you can feel his quickened heart rate.“Maybe I am.”

“You fucked with the wrong guy, kid. You’ll regret this, you’ll really regret this.” The man’s voice shakes - he clearly is having the same realizations about Jaemin that you are. Still, he spits out threats as he shakily rises to his feet and stumbles away.

He disappears from view, but Jaemin’s eyes continue to blankly stare in that direction. All you can do is look at him. Never, not once, have you seen him physically hurt anyone. He never gets into fights, never hits people, never even looks at anyone the wrong way. But that - whatever just happened - was so easy for him. What happened to him?

You find that’s not the first time you’re asking yourself that question.

He seems to snap out of his thoughts a moment later, turning to see you staring at him, a wide-eyed, scared expression on your face. “Let’s go home,” is all he says before he’s stiffly packing up the things you had brought with you. When he extends his hand for you to take, you grab onto it out of habit and see some of the warmth return to his eyes. He’s smiling at you gently, tugging you along the path back home. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” After you nod, your words come out as more of a murmur, as if you’re afraid to ask him. Because you’re afraid to ask him.

“Yeah,” he says, chuckling a beat later, “my fists hurt, though.”

“Why did you do that?”

He looks away from you, focusing on the sidewalk ahead of him. “I just lost it for a second because of what he said to you. He… he had no right.” His thumb runs over your knuckles, a motion that would normally be soothing. Now, you’re not sure how to feel.

“Jaemin, where did you learn to fight?” How did he learn to do it so well?

“I did taekwondo for a while as a kid, then Jeno and I took some kickboxing classes together in high school.” At that, you relax. It’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. It makes sense, more sense than anything else in the last few minutes has. You cling to that answer, forcing down the rising concern in your mind, shoving that feeling into a dark corner of your thoughts and hoping you never have to see it again.

You just want things to be okay. Maybe that’s ignorant and selfish, but you don’t want to think about Jaemin any differently than you did not even an hour ago. You don’t know what you would do if things weren’t okay.

When you get home, he lets you clean up his knuckles and wrap them in bandages. They had split and started bleeding a bit when he was punching the other man, though you try not to dwell on that. The man got up and walked away and, though he didn’t look too pretty, he’ll live.

Why are you afraid that he might not?

Shaking the thought off, you raise his hands up, pressing a kiss to the bandages on each of his hands. When you look up at him, he’s gazing down at you, his eyes soft and warm. That’s the Jaemin you know, you tell yourself. “No more fighting, okay?” You whisper, keeping eye contact with him.

He leans forward, quickly capturing your lips in a kiss. Something about the kiss reminds you of the first time he had kissed you in the hallway three years ago, where the only thoughts you had about him were honey sweet and full of wonder. “As you wish,” he mumbles against your lips before going back in to kiss you again.

When you’re sleeping later that night, his arms are around you as usual. Once again, his thoughts are consumed with that man. He’s not scared of him. No, why would he be? He’s scared for you. As long as that piece of filth lives, he can come after you. He can keep hurting you so long as he still draws breath. He had already drawn his blood - he just needs to go a little further next time. Keep hitting him until the light leaves his eyes. He can try to understand what he did wrong in his grave. Taking a shaky breath, Jaemin tries to ignore the phantom taste of blood in his mouth, the feeling of the hot, irony liquid coating his hands that isn’t there, not yet. I need to kill him.

“Doll, do you want to go out tonight? I want to make up for ruining Gowon’s party for you.”

It’s a few days later, the next weekend, when he speaks up. You look from your laptop, where you had been idly checking emails and doing a little bit of schoolwork. “The club? You didn’t ruin anything, Jaems.”

He rolls over so that he’s next to you in the bed, his arms circling around your waist. “I know I did, Y/N. You don’t have to deny it.”

Your hand idly goes to his hair, threading through the silken strands. “I would be okay with doing some drinking and dancing with you. But only if you want to!” You recognize that his offer is somewhat strange, not something he would usually bring up himself, but you imagine it would be fun to go to the club with him.

“Wear something pretty tonight,” he says, winking at you slyly before he rolls away, getting off of the bed. “I’m gonna go shower.”

This time, you don’t pull out that same tight black stress, opting for something a little less showy, something you’re sure your boyfriend will be happy with. Your heels are a little more modest, your makeup a little more simple. When it’s late enough and you’re both ready, you do a little twirl for Jaemin, who whistles in appreciation. “My pretty girlfriend,” he says, reaching for your hand so he can spin you, “are you ready?” You nod.

He knows he is.

It’s a different experience, arriving through the front and not the back, but he welcomes it. All it takes is a single sweep over the club for him to find the man from before, his face still swollen with bruises and some sort of strong alcohol in his hand. Good.

You greet the three friends who you invited out as well. Jaemin had told you to get others to come, that it would be more fun. You sip on a fruit drink, one with less alcohol than last time, and his hand rests idly on your thigh, his fingertips playing with the lace edge of your dress. He smiles at your giggling comments, feigns listening to your friends as they talk, makes all the right moves. Finally, the man from before stumbles out the back door, alone. Jaemin excuses himself from your group, saying something about the bathroom.

The man is outside smoking when Jaemin catches up to him. “Hey,” Jaemin says, catching his attention, “I wanted to talk to you.”

It takes a moment for the man to recognize him. When he finally does, he throws his cigarette down, clumsily putting it out with his boot. “You… I told you that you’d regret what you did. C’mere.”

“Let’s talk somewhere more private, yeah?” The man scowls before following him. They enter a side alley, somewhere quieter, away from all prying eyes.

“Don’t want anyone to see you get the life beaten out of you, kid?” The man drawls, stumbling slightly in his drunkenness. He raises his fists. “Hope you said goodbye to your girlfriend.”

He throws the first punch. Sloppy as expected, easy enough to sidestep. Jaemin’s leg sweeps out, knocking one of his feet out from under him. He falls to the ground, smashing his head into the broken concrete of the dilapidated alley. Not one to give up, the man gets up after a moment, attempting to hit him again. Another easy dodge and Jaemin is using the momentum to slam his palm into the man’s head, sending his head into the brick wall of the alley with a sickening crack. A spot of blood is barely visible on the bricks in the dark. He crouches down next to the man, who is breathing hard, trying to get up but unable to because of the spinning of his head. For a moment, Jaemin just watches him attempt to get up, slumping back down over and over again. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t breath any harder. In fact, he hardly does anything at all. He just watches.

Slowly, he begins to speak. “Do you understand now?”

The man gurgles out something that resembles a curse and Jaemin reacts lightning fast, lifting the man’s head up before slamming it into the ground again. Another cracking sound, more blood.

“Do you? Do you know what you did?”

All that comes out is a groan this time. The bloody mess of a man reaches out and Jaemin’s shoe lands on his fingers, crushing them. The man barely has enough strength to cry out.

“No,” he says, putting more pressure on his fingers, “you don’t. And you never will.”

He lifts the man’s head and, with both hands, smashes it down again. And again. And again. A pool begins to form under his head. Jaemin’s hands are coated with blood now, he knows it. He can feel the liquid splattering onto the sleeves of his loose black dress shirt. He can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop.

It’s all for you. Always for you.

Jaemin has been gone for too long. When you wonder aloud about his whereabouts, one of your friends mentions that they saw him go out the back door. Confused, you get up, saying you’re going to go check on him. Behind the club, there’s litter, scattered bottles of alcohol, and cigarette butts, one of which is still smoking slightly. You frown, making a quiet noise of disgust. People are really that careless? From farther away, you hear a cracking noise, like the sound of someone breaking open a watermelon on the first day of summer. Some sort of sick intuition has you following the source of the noise, leading you to the opening of a side alley.

It takes a moment for you to process what you’re seeing, but when it sinks in, your gasp gives you away. Jaemin’s head turns towards you fast, too fast, before he relaxes when he sees it’s you.

“Y/N,” he says, “you weren’t supposed to see this.” He speaks like he was just hiding Christmas presents and you had caught him, or like he was stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. Not… not this. The way he rises to his feet is stiff, like he had just woken up from years of sleeping.

It’s the same for you. You’re finally awake. Years of blindness, of willful ignorance. Now, you can finally see.

You can’t speak. There’s blood over everything and you know it isn’t his. “Baby,” he says, using that same sickly sweet tone of voice, “what’s wrong?”

Something about his question finally makes it so you can breathe again and your shallow, panicked breaths make the easy expression drop from his face. “Y/N…” He reaches out and you step back, so he stops, looking down at his hands with a dead, appraising expression. The attempt he makes at cleaning off the blood covering his hands just smears it further on his pristine skin and wipes some onto his pants. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to get so messy.”

“Jae…” You can’t even bring yourself to finish his name. You want to run, but your legs won’t let you. You take a step back, but stumble, nearly falling down. He catches you and your skin crawls as you feel the blood on his hands transfer onto yours.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says, too calm, too cold, too detached, “he won’t hurt you anymore.”

What is he saying?

“I dont… I don’t understand… why…?” You can’t keep your eyes off of the body slumped in the alley.

“Stop looking at him.” Jaemin’s grip on you is crushing, even more so than the night he had prevented you from taking your necklace off. A night that now clicks back into your brain as you realize that this is the real him. He had lied to you about it being a dream. What else had he lied about? Whoever the man in front of you is, you don’t know him. This can’t be him. But it is. You can’t deny it anymore. You shut your eyes at the pain and he lets up. You slowly open your eyes to meet his. When you look at him, he raises a hand to cup your cheek. “I promised I would protect you. I love you, Y/N. More than anything in the world.”

“You killed him,” you breathe out, unable to look away from the void of Jaemin’s eyes now, “you killed him.”

“He deserved to die.” The words come out as a growl. It’s beyond Jaemin’s imagination how you can possibly be sympathizing with this man. “After what he said to you? What he wanted to do to you?”

“He’s still a person!” You shriek, trying to jerk away from him. His grip tightens.

“No man,” he says, “no one like him is a person to me.”

The image you have of your boyfriend, who you’ve been with for three years and known for four, morphs in your mind. Where he had once been so pure, a golden ray of sunlight that you wanted to dwell in forever, you realize now that the shadows he’s casting are darker and longer than any of the light he’s given you. You’ve been in denial for far too long. Jaemin is a monster.

With all of the strength you can muster, you fight against him. Trying to pull away, get away, run from this person that you no longer know, that you’re not sure you ever knew. You take a step away and his arms are around you, embracing you in a crushing motion that makes it feel like you can hardly breathe.

“Don’t run. You can’t run.” He says, pulling you more firmly against him, his grip impossibly strong, impossibly tight. Against your will, you start to sob.

The shackles he placed on you years ago were made of gold, but shackles nonetheless. Maybe some part of him really does love you. But, a larger part of him is sick. Too sick for you to fix and too sick for you to escape. It’s a familiar scene, you, wrapped in his arms, your tears sliding into his shirt. His arms are a prison and, all this time, you’ve never had any hope of escape at all.

“Shh,” he cooes, stroking a blood-covered hand over your hair and tucking your head against his chest, “it’s okay. Everything will be okay. I’ll keep you safe. From everyone.

“Forever.”

#reuploading bc tags were broken :'))#jaemin angst #jaemin smut #nct smut #neowritingsnet #nct angst #debating if i should put this in the fluff tag #maybe not bc even though it has fluff it's too dark #nct dream angst #please let this work this time :( i worked so hard #sorry to the people who saw this before i'm reuploading akdfjas #feel free to pop into my ask box and leave criticism!

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angryinternetduck · 4 years ago

Text

Sunshine

4.6k words exactly on a glowing fem!reader and Harry Styles finally realizing they're more than friends. A few bad words but no other warnings I can think of. Happy reading!!!

Harry always said that you glowed.

He liked to say you were a star: in your actions, in your words, in your very being. He loved to gush compliments over you, drowning you in sweet words and affectionate touches and letting you know just how much he loved you. And sure, most of that took place while he was drunk, but hey - drunk words are sober thoughts, right?

Either way, he sure did compare you to a star a lot when he was drunk, and after a while, it even carried over to sober words too when he gave you the nickname of Sunshine. And, despite your tendency to complain and correct him, you weren’t too mad about it.

You’d met him at a bar, late one night after a particularly messy breakup. He’d been positively hammered, and had approached you with the weakest pick up line you’d ever heard in your entire life.

“You, darling,” he’d slurred confidently, “light up my world… like… like nobody else.”

“Really?” you’d replied, just as drunk. “Is that so?”

“That’s so,” he’d said. He bopped your nose. “Right sunshine, you are.”

The whole night was a blur of bad jokes and aggressive flirting that never actually went anywhere. That’s what you always assumed, anyway, because you’d woken up the next morning alone in your bed with only a killer headache and his number in your cell.

It took you two weeks to call him, and, a bit tipsy, you’d given him your address and offered a night in. You had a few ideas in mind, ones that included quite a different morning after than the previous time you’d seen him, but him coming over in the softest blue jumper you’d ever seen and carrying bags of Chinese take away was not on the list.

“Tell me, Sunshine,” he’d said by way of greeting, “do you have anything fun to drink?”

“Plenty of Capri Sun,” you’d answered.

“Well,” Harry laughed, “with Capri Sun and take away, how could we go wrong?”

That morning after was, technically, quite different than the last, but - again - not in the way you’d expected. You’d traded favorite movies, talking over every scene of Love Actually with snarky commentary and shushing him when he tried to do the same with yours, and fell asleep on the couch hours after the sun rose.

Another drunken night brought another drunken phone call, and another and another, until the phone calls became sober and the random drunken nights became consistent Friday afternoons. You were making a decent headway on classic movies - movies the two of you deemed classic, anyway - and celebrated the first anniversary of your meeting at the bar where you’d met.

It was that night, one year since you’d met Harry Styles, staring at your ceiling fan and listening to him snore, that you’d realized two things at once. One, that you hadn’t dated anyone in a year, and two, that you didn’t care - you were perfectly content as it was. And, you’d thought vaguely, Harry had never mentioned a girlfriend, either.

Strange.

☀️☀️☀️

That lasted another month, and then you met your boyfriend.

His name was Oliver, and he was sweet. Smart. Cute. You really liked him. Of course you did. You’d met him at some party and hit it off almost immediately, and he took you out to dinner a few days after you met. He brought you flowers, and paid for the meal, and at the end of the night, he gave you a soft kiss on the cheek.

Harry was a bit skeptical about the lad, and he wasn’t afraid to voice his concerns.

“Sounds like a prick,” he’d said casually, mouth full of popcorn, when you’d told him all about your new boyfriend and his various hopes and dreams. Your jaw dropped. “What?” you’d said incredulously.

“Dunno,” Harry replied. “Just giving me the wrong vibes.”

And, when you’d shown him a picture, all he had to say was, “Those shoes are weird.”

You only scoffed, and he shrugged, looking at you like you were the one who was crazy. “What?” he said. “Can’t have a man without a fashion sense - don’t want him to be buying you rubbish gifts, hm?”

Despite all the slander, Harry had been adamant about meeting him.

“I need to meet this guy, Sunshine,” he’d insisted.

“Yeah, sure,” was your constant reply, “maybe some time.”

But for some reason, you’d procrastinated with the whole meetup thing. You weren’t quite sure of the exact reason why, although Harry’s skepticism on him probably didn’t help. Harry finally took it into his own hands and sent him a message on Instagram, which led to a very strange, awkward movie night.

“He seems nice,” Oliver said at the end of the night as he walked you home, and you nodded. “Mhm,” you hummed softly. “I don’t know about his taste in movies, though,” he’d gone on with a teasing smile, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Ten Things I Hate About You? A bit sappy, huh?”

You laughed a bit, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah, he’s a… sappy guy.”

The conversation fizzled out after that, but it was a comfortable silence, and you didn’t mind too much. You seemed to have a lot of comfortable silence with him. He walked you home, and kissed you goodnight, and never came to another movie night again.

☀️☀️☀️

“Heya!” you exclaimed as Harry opened the door of his flat, already scooting past him before he’d stepped back. “Hey, Sunny,” Harry replied, and you corrected him with your name as you plopped four bags of take away on his table.

“Did you invite somebody?” Harry asked, and you frowned. “What?”

Harry grinned, nodding at the food. “That’s food enough for four, love.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and kept taking boxes out of the bags. “I’m just doing my duties,” you told him. “You’re a growing boy, Styles.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Growing horizontally if you keep this up, Sunshine.”

You handed him a pair of chopsticks. “So have at it, growing-horizontally boy.”

“If you insist.”

You collapsed on the couch next to him with a box of lo maine, but when he didn’t say anything and just stared thoughtfully at his food, you asked, “Penny for your thoughts?” He glanced at you, and smiled. “I found a girl,” he said.

Your jaw dropped, your eyes going comically wide. “You found a girl?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“Well, fuck, H, my bad, but it’s been so long I -” You cut yourself off when Harry shot you a glare. A beat of silence, and then, still grinning, you dragged out, “Soooooooooooo…” and asked, “What’s her name?” Harry smiled. “Astrid.”

“Astrid,” you echoed, pulling a face. “Sounds like a pink haired anime character.”

“You don’t even watch anime,” Harry muttered.

“Still,” you said. “Is she nice? What’s she look like? If she has pink hair I’m gonna -”

“She’s blonde, Sunny,” Harry interrupted, ignoring your glare at the nickname. “And she’s very nice. Proper smart, too - going to med school at the mo’.” You pursed your lips. “Sounds snobby.”

“She’s not.”

You shrugged, spinning noodles round your fork. “Where’d you meet her?”

Harry hesitated, and then, “Starbucks.”

You paused, looked up at him, raised a brow. “Starbucks?”

“Yeah. She’s barista-ing ‘till she gets her degree.”

“When’s your date?”

Harry hesitated, again, and told her, “Last night.”

You scoffed. “Last night?”

“Woulda gone to a pet store if I wanted a parrot, Sunshine.”

“Sunshine, my ass!” you exclaimed. “When’d you meet her?”

“Monday.”

“Monday?” you practically shrieked, talking over him when he murmured something about parrots and asking, “And you didn’t tell me this Wednesday because?” Harry shrugged. “Didn’t wanta tell you ‘bout something that would go south.”

A pause. “So it went north?”

Harry grinned. “To the stars, Sunny, she’s wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, she’s amazing.”

A pause, again, and Harry glanced over at you, and you were smiling, just a bit, and Harry raised an eyebrow. “You’re looking at me funny, Sunshine.” You shrugged. “It’s just weird, is all.” You frowned. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

Harry flushed. “Not important.”

“Riiiiight,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow. You settled against the couch, twirling noodles around your fork before slurping a noodle into your mouth. “So,” you went on, running your tongue over your lips, “tell me about it!”

“What?” Harry asked distractedly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“The date, moron.”

Harry’s smile faded, and he shrugged, his enthusiasm suddenly lost. He looked at his food. “Erm - it was good. She’s brilliant.” You laughed, prodding him with your foot. “Gotta give me more than that, Styles. What happened to ‘to the stars’?”

“She’s really into astrology,” Harry mumbled.

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re not giving her a chance.”

“You’re not giving me a proper picture!” you insisted. “Give me details, dude, c’mon.”

He bit his lip, studying you for a second before looking away. “She’s… she’s perfect, Sunny. She just - she glows. And she’s so funny. She always knows what to say, too, like she can read my mind. And Christ, Sunshine, she’s gorgeous. Her smile’s brighter than the sun and…” He looked up, meeting your gaze with a lopsided smile. “And she’s got the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen,” he finished, his voice going quiet.

“That’s more like it!” you cheered. “Maybe I’ll give this girl a chance!”

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“Where’d you guys go?”

“Some little restaurant by the river…”

“Ooh, by the river - you walked with her, right? All romantic?”

Harry nodded. “Mhm. Saw some stars, too.

You snickered. “Did she tell you your future from the constellations?”

Harry groaned, tossing a pillow at you. “Stop itttt,” he dragged.

“Sorry, sorry,” you giggled, “please continue.”

“It was fantastic. She -”

“Wait a minute,” you interrupted. “Wait a minute, you called me this morning. At, like, eight o’clock!” Harry nodded. “Yup,” he said, and you frowned. “So you… didn’t get laid?” Harry scoffed. “Mr. Checkered Shoes over there didn’t shag you the first date, now did he?”

“Yeah, well, he’s a gentleman, and you’re a dick, so -”

“I am not!” Harry exclaimed. He smiled smugly. “Ask Astrid.”

“Oh, I will,” you replied, just as smugly. “Wanna invite her over for a movie night?”

“Abso -” He paused, frowning slightly. “Maybe later.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Later, huh? Should I send her a dm?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Harry warned, and you laughed.“Sure, sure,” you told him, wondering what a girl named Astrid would have as her Instagram handle and whether or not she’d reply to a perfect stranger’s message.

☀️☀️☀️

Harry missed the next week’s movie night because of Astrid.

You didn’t mind.

You’d been wanting to spend more time with your boyfriend, anyway.

And if you kept your phone by your side the whole night through, waiting for a heartbroken text from Harry saying it didn’t quite work out with Astrid the pink haired barista, nobody had to know.

☀️☀️☀️

Astrid’s timing was perfect. She met Harry Styles at the end of January, on a cold winter’s day just begging for a warm cup of coffee. She wasn’t even supposed to be there that day; she was supposed to take off, but the guy who was supposed to cover for her couldn’t make it because of the snow. She’d never been more miserable to live walking distance from her work than that morning.

Her mood had lifted, however, when a new face had stepped into the coffee shop. A new, dangerously gorgeous face that was grinning a swoon-worthy smile down at his cell phone when he walked in. Astrid didn’t even get annoyed when he took a call in line. Hearing him greet somebody named Sunshine with that deep, accented voice of his practically made her melt on the spot.

She felt a bit of a twinge when the man said the name of the person he was talking to, which sounded a bit feminine, but didn’t think on it too much. She managed to take his order and hand him his coffee without making a fool of herself, and the worrying started after he walked out the door.

He called the girl on the phone darling. And Sunshine. Who nicknames a friend or sister Sunshine? And the way he was grinning while he was talking to that girl - there’s no way that much fondness could be for a friend. He looked like he was walking on… well, sunshine, as he talked, and that laugh…

Well.

So her hopes fizzled out, and she was certain that was the last she’d see of him.

Until the next day, when he came back.

And this time, since Astrid wasn’t even worried about impressing a potential boyfriend, they actually had a conversation. His name was Harry, she learned that day, and he was the dorkiest, funniest man she’d ever met. Even just after a two minute conversation, Astrid wanted to be friends with this guy.

The next day, Astrid learned something even more interesting. Surprisingly, it turned out that that Sunshine girl really was just a friend, and Astrid had a date with this Harry guy that Thursday night.

The date went magnificently (of course), and he asked her out again the next week. He was like something out of a fairy tale, this guy, and Astrid was absolutely charmed. She just couldn’t wait to see him again.

☀️☀️☀️

Oliver broke up with you.

It came out of nowhere, a whispered, “I think we should take a break,” after a night out, and despite everything, you were upset. It was just weird not having him around. He was one of those guys that gave you good morning and goodnight texts and called you every night (except Fridays) just to see how you were doing.

He was pretty much the perfect boyfriend, and all you could think was that it was your fault. You just were never really into him. You loved him as a friend, but he just didn’t seem like boyfriend material. You never felt that connection.

So really, all you could do was be thankful that he’d been so civil about the break up. He hadn’t seemed too angry about anything, hadn’t made a whole big scene, just did it quietly and politely and told you he hoped you could still be friends.

Which you couldn’t be, kind of, but at least the thought was there.

Regardless, you were a single woman once again, and you had a best friend to rant to.

☀️☀️☀️

That best friend you were supposed to rant to was MIA.

The week before was fine. You understood. He wanted to be with Astrid, he had a girlfriend, whatever. And really, this week shouldn’t be any different, since - as far as you knew, anyway - the girlfriend situation was still the same.

Only difference was that he told you.

The week before, he’d sent you an emoji laden text message apologizing profusely for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to make it. This week was radio silence. After spamming his phone with text messages and calling four or five times, you’d pretty much given up. You were waiting in your apartment, forty minutes after he was supposed to come, and feeling like a loser with a capital L.

After an hour of boredom and no Harry, you decided to take things into your own hands. He’d probably forgotten (not that he’d forgotten once in all the weeks you’d been doing this) and was sitting at home, scrolling through Twitter or playing the guitar or doing whatever Harry Styles did with his free time.

So you got into your car, and drove.

☀️☀️☀️

Harry grinned when he finally shifted his key right in the door, and he pushed it open as Astrid giggled and pushed him back against it, closing it again, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. Harry kissed her back and tried not to think about how her perfume was just a bit too strong, or how she was being just a tad too aggressive with her tongue, or how he didn’t really want to go anywhere past a bit of a snog but she didn’t seem to be on the same page.

Vaguely, Harry realized the light was on, and then slightly less vaguely, he realized he hadn’t left them on, and then not vaguely at all, he heard a clink and realized there was somebody else in his flat.

He pulled away from Astrid, who whined and tried to pull him back, and turned around to see you sat on his sofa with a bowl of cereal and a pair of earbuds. Harry groaned and muttered, “One sec,” to Astrid before walking over to you and pulling the earbuds out of your ears.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed.

“Eating cereal,” you replied all too casually, holding up your bowl.

“Fuck’s sake, you’re not supposed to be here!”

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but -”

Harry groaned your name, shaking his head. “No, no, no, you can’t just do this! You -”

“You know what? You didn’t show up!” you interrupted. “You didn’t show up, and ignored all my texts, and Olly broke up with me, and I was sad!” You scowled. “I was sad, and I thought you’d be here, and I wouldn’t have come over if you’d just” - you glanced behind him at Astrid who was still standing by the door - “told me you had a date!”

Harry paused. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just -”

“Hey, Harry?” Astrid cut in from the door. “I think I’m gonna… take off…”

“No!” Harry exclaimed, spinning around. “No, no, she’s leaving! We can -”

Astrid gave an awkward laugh and shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ll see you later, Styles.”

She left, and Harry felt a bit of shame for the flash of relief he felt. He sighed and turned to you. “Happy?” he asked. You scoffed. “Happy?” you echoed. “What, you think I did this on purpose?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You never come in unless I’m here too.”

“That’s not true.”

Harry pursed his lips, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and pouring himself some cereal from the bag you’d so thoughtfully neglected to put back in the cabinet. He poured some milk and grabbed a spoon, and sat on the sofa next to you. “Look,” he said. “I’m sorry about Olly, alright? I just wish you would text me before coming over.”

“Never told me to before,” you grumbled. “Well, now I have a girlfriend,” Harry snapped, and then frowned, looking at the door a bit forlornly. “I did, anyway, although I’m not so sure she’ll come back after -”

“You guys’ll be fine, H, calm down,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes as you chased a fruit loop around your bowl. “You’re too damn pretty to be dumped ‘cause of - what, a failed hook up session?”

Harry didn’t reply, and you looked up. He was smiling at you. Looked almost smug.

You frowned. “What?”

“You called me pretty.”

You groaned and tossed a pillow at him, which he dodged, but not without spilling a splash of milk onto the couch. “Please,” you muttered. “Have some dignity.” Harry smirked. “Oh, I’ve plenty of dignity, ‘specially after the first compliment I’ve gotten from you in years.”

“Oh, please!” you said again. “That’s just not fair.”

There was a beat of silence before Harry cleared his throat. “So, Oliver broke up with you?” You shrugged. “Yeah.” Harry nudged your foot with his. “‘m sorry,” he murmured, and you shrugged again. “Yeah,” you repeated.

“Do you want to… talk about it?” Harry asked hesitantly.

You shook your head. “Not really.”

“Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

You stirred your milk around your bowl, deep in thought, as Harry flicked on the TV and found a movie, but you looked up when you heard the beginnings of your favorite movie. You smiled, glancing over at Harry. “Thanks, H,” you said softly.

Harry grinned, putting an arm around your shoulders. “‘f course, Sunshine.”

☀️☀️☀️

“Astrid broke up with me,” Harry announced as he walked into your apartment.

You looked up from your couch, startled. It was only two days after you’d interrupted their date, and you’d been watching a TV show before he’d walked in. “Wow,” you replied, unsure what to say. “Um… I’m sorry, H.”

“Yeah,” he said, standing in front of you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket. He gave a lopsided smile. “Guess I’m not too pretty to be broken up with, hm?” You laughed a bit uneasily. “Yeah, yeah, I guess not. Are you… okay?”

“I dunno. But I - I want to get out of here.”

You frowned. “And go… where?”

“Dunno,” he repeated, shrugging slightly.

“Well…”

“Christ, Sunny, c’mon,” Harry laughed, green eyes bright as he pulled you up and gently pulled you towards the door. You raised an eyebrow but let him lead you outside and into his car. “Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked as you slid into the passenger seat.

“I’m fine, Sunshine. Just wanta drive. Want some music?” he asked, already pulling out his phone. He clicked around for a second, making you frown and mutter, “If we get pulled over…”

Finally, he picked a song, and when the music poured through his speakers, you felt yourself smile as you recognized your favorite song. Harry grinned, poking you and making you giggle as he screamed out the lyrics.

Before you knew it, you were laughing and mumbling along with the song, and you were almost disappointed when the car slowed and Harry turned off the engine. You hadn’t even thought about where he’d been taking you, and you were surprised to step out of the car and onto soft grass.

You were looking up at some trees, feeling a bit intimidated by their enormous branches that towered over you in the dark night. The moon was barely visible through the leaves, and something about the whole scene felt a bit ominous.

You jumped when Harry gently touched your arm.

“Sorry,” he murmured, giving you a lopsided smile as his hand slid down to meet yours. You shivered in the cool air, letting Harry guide you through the trees. “If your way of cheering yourself up after a breakup is murdering me in a forest,” you began softly, and Harry grinned, nudging your shoulder with his. “Shoulda frisked me, Sunshine.”

You looked up to meet his eye, smiling despite yourself. “Maybe later.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Harry looked away. You continued to walk with him in silence, trying not to stress too much over the fact that you were walking hand in hand with him at night.

Your breath caught as you came to a clearing, and you felt Harry grinning as he watched your reaction. He’d brought you to a small clearing in the woods, and the scene was nothing less than magical.

The moon shone down onto the leafy ground, sparkling on the little stream that ran through the shrubs and bushes. Butterflies floated gracefully around the blooming flowers that rose from the grass, their wings iridescent in the light of the moon. Instead of ominous, the scene was calming, the humming of the insects comforting rather than scary.

“‘s pretty, isn’t it?” Harry said quietly.

“It’s gorgeous.”

He sat down in the grass, and you looked at him skeptically. “Is it wet?”

He shrugged. “Nah.”

“I’ll bite you if you’re lying,” you said.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” he said back, smirking at you.

“Christ,” you muttered, crouching down next to him a bit hesitantly before deeming it appropriately dry and plopping down next to him. “So, uh… do you want to talk about it?” you asked after a moment of quiet.

He shook his head. “No, I… I don’t.”

You let your gaze linger on his face even as he looked away, and then sighed and asked, “How’d you even find this place?” Harry shrugged. “Dunno.” You grinned, nudging him with your shoulder. “Are you walking alone in the woods a lot, H?” you said teasingly. “Should I be worried?”

“Only for yourself,” he told you with a smirk.

You frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

Harry grinned at you and leaned in, giving you a whiff of sweet cologne and mint. “You forgot to frisk me, Sunny,” he said lowly, and he was so close that you were momentarily flustered before you laughed and gently pushed him away from you.

Silence came back, settling comfortably between the two of you, and after a minute, you yawned, resting your head on his shoulder. “This is nice,” you murmured. Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he said.

You looked up, keeping your chin on his shoulder. He looked positively ethereal, his profile glowing in the soft moonlight. He glanced at you after a second and smiled a bit. “You’re staring, Sunshine.”

“Did you really like Astrid?” you whispered.

His smile faded. “What kind of question is that?”

“You, um… Well, you’re awful chirpy for someone who just got broken up with.”

He looked down. “I dunno.”

“Don’t think you’ve ever had a serious girlfriend since I’ve known you.”

He still didn’t meet your eye. “Just haven’t found the right girl yet.”

A beat of silence, and then you spoke, your voice coming out barely a whisper.

“Are you sure?”

That was when he looked at you.

“No,” he said.

You sat up, swallowing thickly. “Hey, H?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

A slow smile grew on Harry’s face. “Yeah,” he murmured.

It was like a dam broke, then, and everything came rushing out, because you felt like you’d about die if you didn’t kiss him that very second. So you did. You kissed him, and the world stopped, and everything felt like it went frozen.

Time came to a grinding halt as your lips met his, and you swore you stopped breathing.

And then Harry pulled back. He was grinning. “Yeah,” he laughed, and you shifted into his lap as he kissed you again, and that was when the world slammed back into motion. It was a damn Disney movie in your mind, the world spinning around the two of you as butterflies appeared out of nowhere and blue birds flew in dizzying circles around your head.

You were both laughing, smiling against each other as you kissed each other breathless.

You never ever wanted to leave his side again.

☀️☀️☀️

Harry always says that you glow.

He likes to say you’re a star; in your actions, in your words, in your very being. He loves to gush compliments over you, drowning you in sweet words and affectionate touches and letting you know just how much he loves you. And sure, most of that takes place through drowsy giggles in the wee hours of the morning, but hey - still counts, right?

Either way, he sure does compare you to a star a lot, but at least now you can prove it to him. Now, you can kiss him back and drown him in sweet words and affectionate touches. Now, you can whisper I love yous as he presses featherlight kisses against your cheeks and eyelashes. Now, you can hold him and love him and do whatever you damn well please, because now, you’re not just any sunshine - you’re his Sunshine.

☀️☀️☀️

la fin ❤️

thanks for reading!!!

masterlist | ask

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles

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drwcn · 5 years ago

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... I must say, it's really nice to know it wasn't only I who found book!LWJ's attitude unnerving. He was shown a posessive there, I think? The funniest thing that TGCF I actually liked, because despite one of 'merry couple' fangirling for another for years, he still gave him free space and trusted to make his own decisions.

Hi anons! :)

This post is gonna get kind of wanky, so be warned. If you don’t want wank, well don’t read this post. I really don’t like to answer wank asks because only positive vibes for my blog please and thanks (but don’t worry anons, I’m not mad, I’m just gonna put the three of you together so I can talk about some of mdzs’s problems once and for all). Also disclaimer: my opinions are my own, I could be wrong about some things. I have only dabbled in the novel, some chapters here and there, and I really couldn’t finish it. I went ahead and read the original text, which is actually quite well written all things considered. The translations are fine, but it just doesn’t quite hit the spot. Thus, if I said some things which are factually incorrect, I am not opposed to being notified.

First and foremost, for the anon that asked “what’s wrong with mxtx?” The short answer is nothing is wrong with her. She’s an author who writes popular online novels with a wide readership. Clearly people are receptive to what she’s putting out there. Good for her, you know. It’s not easy to be that well received.

But in terms of her novels, there are several things that I personally don’t like. I’m just gonna list some of the things she’s said about MDZS/CQL. I have not consumed any of her other work.

First, her treatment of her female characters. In an interview, she literally said that most of the men in her MDZS novel are single because she didn’t want to come up with names for their wives. Like....what the fuck. Take from that what you will. Also, look at her female characters. Seriously, what kind of fates did they have? According to another OP, all the female characters’ lines in MDZS added up to 50 sentences. Don’t quote me on this, I did not fact check. This is just what I heard. But even within the narrative itself, let’s do a body count. Jiang Yanli died for plot. Wen Qing died for plot. Qin Su existed and died for plot. A-Jing existed for 45 seconds and then died for plot. Baoshan exists in narration only. Madam Yu was a raging asshole. Madam Jin treated Jin Guangyao like trash. Cangse Sanren: dead. Mama Lan: (no name lol) dead. Where are the fucking women? Where? Let’s not forget all the other women that existed purely as plot device: Sisi, Bicao, Meng Shi. Mianmian is the only one who lived, but she literally had to - quote Eliza Hamilton - “take myself out of the narrative” to do it.

Second, and this is a well known thing: mxtx claimed that the only canon gay relationship is wangxian, everyone else is straight because she doesn’t think it’s likely that there are that many gay people. If we interpret other male characters as couples, we’re free to have our own interpretation. ... ..... .... I’m fucking speechless. But also laughing because LHK and ZZJ literally ignored canon, and straight up made LXC and MY have a meet cute in class in front of everyone.

Third, but not least, let’s talk about book!Lan Wangji. The following will strictly be talking about book!Lan Wangji and not show!Lan Wangji. Show Lan Wangji is very nuanced and WYB’s micro-expressions are great. (You’re doing amazing sweeties, don’t ever stop).

What, pray tell, is book!LWJ’s personality? Silence is not a personality. book!LWJ is what we critics in the drama world call “高冷霸道总裁”, which is a trope in and of itself. And there’s nothing wrong with tropes, except a lot of viewers are getting...kind of sick of it, because it’s getting a little repetitive.

高冷 = arrogant and cold, but like... in an admirably good way. Or as I like to call it, a stick up the butt and no communication skills.

霸道总裁 = The Big Boss. Attention: lemme use some heteronormative language here for a second because most of cdrama is written this way. The Big Boss is the fictional counterpart to the real life 高富帅 (gao fu shuai: tall, rich and handsome, the moniker for an ideal husband) that many aunties and mothers wish their daughters could marry. This kind of character is tall, rich and will swoop in to save the damsel-in-distress - erm, I mean the strong independent female character - when she’s in trouble. Because even though she’s a strong independent character, and sometimes even the main character, somehow her fellow male lead still has to play her knight in shiny armor. Not like, he’ll sit down and listen to her talk about her problems, no, no, he has to pay for her expenses, bail her out of trouble, save her life, sacrifice himself, go against the world for her... sounds familiar???

Yeah.

And like, some novels do “the big boss” trope better than other. They give the “the big boss” a human side, let him interact with side characters, allow him to have friends, build on other relationships, such that he is 3D and can stand on his own. Eternal Love of Dream’s DongHua Dijun is a recent example which I think did a pretty good job of writing a male character that doesn’t let him revolve around the love interest 24/7.

book!LWJ doesn’t work for me because what exactly is his character growth? He serves to back up Wei Wuxian and.....????? He’s so flat in his character built. He loves Wei Wuxian and....that’s it. What else is there? If there’s other character traits y’all picked up on that I didn’t, please let me know because I find him so boring and at times disturbing (in terms of the nature of his physical relationship with Wei Wuxian).

In CQL, we saw Lan Wangji change as a character, we saw him struggle with morals and values, struggle against tradition and family and societal expectations. We watched him witness the death of Wei Wuxian and move on to face life afterwards. We know through the actions of Lan Sizhui that he helped raise a child who didn’t just follow rules blindly. When Wei Wuxian came back, we saw a matured Lan Wangji who had come into his own and was comfortable in his own skin. And in the end, when the dust settled and the truth was revealed, he rose to the occasion. Jin Guangyao’s death left a power vacuum, and Lan Wangji filled it. Someone once wrote an excellent post about Lan Wangji being attracted to Wei Wuxian’s sense of justice (recall Wang Yibo’s change in expression when Wei Wuxian prayed during the lantern ceremony). I think that is exactly right. For two individuals with such different personalities, their bond in my opinion lies in their ability to see right and wrong beyond rules and laws and customs.

In the book, canon ended with the two main character going at it in the grass, and I guess...yeah that’s cool. Happy ending right? But what they did learn? What was the point? Lan Wangji had lived 13/16 years without Wei Wuxian. He knew who he was. But for Wei Wuxian, he came back to life in another person’s body and went through a gazillion different revelation within days. He needed to find himself again, discover who he is, what he wants in this new life. That is a process he needs to do by himself, without external influences and pressure. He needs to be given a chance to decide that Lan Wangji is who he wants in this life, not in the last life, and when he does Lan Wangji will still be here, waiting for him, as he has always waited for him. Lan Wangji is the rock, the constant, the home that Wei Wuxian could always fall back on. He is not a prison, not a master, not the dictator of Wei Wuxian’s life. Theirs should be a partnership of respect and understanding. They are soulmates not only in the romantic sense, but because they understand each other better than anyone else.

Book!LWJ does not give us that. What it does give us is a badly written sexual intercourse that gives me the heebee-jeebees. Sometimes I think it’s even weirdly dub-con without intending to be dub-con. The truth is I can’t even begrudge mxtx for it, because she is not the only one to write in this way. I’ve read other c-novels and many many of them are like that. And here is where we’re getting into the discussion of cultural understanding/acceptance of sex, relationship, consent, gender roles and the what is taught to young adults in school. That is a rabbit hole I won’t go into.

So that’s it. My thoughts.

#cql wank #Anonymous #corie replies

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poetic-emptiness-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Livin’ La Vida Loca (Echoes of the Past 15: Freebie!)

Finally it is finished! I had an irritating writing block, but I’m happy it’s over now. This fic sets during the plague, when Hande is apprenticing with Julian.

The name of this fic is from a song Livin’ La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

Characters: Hande Kuura & Julian Devorak

Content warning: some profanities

Words: ~3 250

@arcana-echoes

It has been a long day at the clinic – lots of patients and lots of research. Julian is tired and he can see that his apprentice is as well. She tries to put on a brave face, but he can see that she's very tense – has she had any chance to relax? They have been working together for five months, but Julian has only seen Hande at work. He has learned that Hande is extremely conscientious, fast learner and she really cares for the patients. He has also found out, that like him, Hande loves reading and it is fun to discuss about different books during their lunch breaks. Julian has grown to like her, and even see her as his friend – the busy days feel less tiring with her around.

After locking the door behind the last patient, Julian turns to Hande and smiles at her, ”Well, that was a busy one. Great work – I can't even realise how I did manage before you tagged along!” Hande chuckles to Julian's praises and shrugs, ”Thanks, but it's not just me – you really are a spectacular doctor, believe it or not.” Julian blushes by the compliment, but Hande is too polite to point it out. She just pats her teacher's hardel and goes to change to her everyday clothes. While Julian is in the other room changing himself he ponders if he should ask Hande out. They are practically colleagues and they're also friends, so it wouldn't be inappropriate. He also has a feeling that Hande is quite lonely, with her family and friends in Karnassos.

”Hey, Hande?” Julian shouts to his apprentice so she could hear her, ”Would you mind if I took you somewhere? Erm, to let our hair down, so to speak?” The doctor hears only silence for a moment, before Hande's voice echoes from another room, ”No, I wouldn't mind, that sounds nice.” Julian lets out a relieved sigh and his lips twitch into a small smile, ”Great! I can offer you something to eat as a thank you, if you wish?” He hears Hande coming back to the office while she hums in affirmative. After Julian's done, he goes to the office and sees Hande opening her hair which is tied into a French twist. Her hair is pretty long, he notes, settling to the level of her waist. Stop gawking! That's inappropriate!

Hande turns to look at Julian, looking a little embarrassed, ”I don't want to keep the same hairstyle during my free time, otherwise I'd never let go of the work stuff. It probably sounds silly...” Julian gives Hande a friendly smile and shakes his head, ”No, it doesn't sound silly at all. It's good you have ways to avoid thinking about work during your free time.” Hande smiles back, separates her hair in two parts and starts to braid the other half. Julian is looking at her procedure and his curiosity takes over, ”Uhm, may I ask what are you going to do?” Hande glances at Julian before she turns back and continues braiding, ”I'm going to make two braids and pull them over my head, like a headband. Then no one gets the opportunity to try and pull my hair.” Julian seems to think for a moment and before he can reconsider he asks, ”Do you... Do you want me to braid the other half? It'd be faster that way.” Hande turns to face Julian, looking surprised, but also a little amused, her eyebrows raising. Before Hande can say anything Julian blurts, ”Uhm, I can braid... I have a little sister... I used to braid her hair sometimes.”

Hande's eyes widen for a little moment – she didn't expect to hear something like that. She recovers from her shock quickly and beckons Julian to come closer. Julian understands that Hande has accepted his offer and tentatively starts to braid her hair. It feels slippery and soft in his hands – completely different than Pasha's hair. ”Tell me about her. Your sister, I mean,” Hande asks silently after a moment of silence. Julian chuckles and starts to tell while braiding, ”Her name is Pasha. She's three years older than you and we grew up in Nevivon together...” He continues telling about his sister while they are working on Hande's hairstyle. Hande looks satisfied and compliments Julian's work which causes the poor doctor to blush again. When the duo is ready Julian dramatically offers his arm to Hande, who laughs and with an exaggerated curtsey takes it. ”Well, Doctor Devorak, show me the way!”

***

Hande looks curiously at the sign above her head: The Rowdy Raven. She has never been here before and she's curious to see it. The place seems to be a tavern, but it looks rather cozy when she peeks through the window. Still, she can't help feeling a little nervous – what if she ends up being too obviously out of place? Well, fortune favors the brave, as they say... Hande lets Julian lead her into the tavern. They're welcomed with loud laughter and music playing in the background – there's a band playing in a corner. That makes Hande feel herself more at home, if you could call a tavern a home.

The young woman looks around her. There are locals and people from abroad, all of them having a good time chatting or playing cards with each other. People who notice her and Julian entering turn to greet her teacher with joy on their faces. Hande tenses a little, because it is clear, that Julian is very popular person in here, and Hande is... Well, she's here for the first time in her life, although she's lived in Vesuvia for almost a year. Julian squeezes Hande with his arm reassuringly, ”I'd get us some food and drinks. Do you have any wishes?” Hande looks a little pensive, but she decides it's better to speak than stay silent. ”Uhm... Are there... Are there any non-alcoholic drinks? I'm a teetotaler...” she whispers uncertainly.

Julian freezes on the spot. Shit. Congratulations, you've fucked up and brought a teetotaler to a tavern.. You idiot... His faces turns red again and he sputters, ”I-I'm sorry! I didn't know that...” Hande notices Julian's panicking and hurries to assuring him, ”No, no, it's fine! I don't mind others drinking, well at least if they're not steaming... I've just never amused to drink alcohol myself... It isn't because of any belief, if that's any comfort...” Julian is surprised, how Hande is nervous about his reaction, and can't help but smile to her, ”No, you don't need to worry! I don't mind at all, and you're not obliged to explain your reasons, if you don't want to. There should be also some non-alcoholic drinks, so no harm done.” Hande smiles to him thankfully which makes Julian a little giddy. No, concentrate. Go and order your food and drinks!

Hande waits by a table when Julian gives their orders to a barkeeper. The young woman glances around, observing other patrons curiously, wondering where some of them might come from. Soon Julian comes back with their drinks. ”Barth said he'll bring the food soon,” he says, handing her a glass with lime green liquid in it. ”I hope you like this one, I wasn't quite sure what to get,” Julian says, looking a little embarrassed. Hande smiles at him reassuringly and takes a little sip from her drink. It's suitably sweet with citrus aroma – probably lemon and lime combined. ”This is so good! Dr. Devorak, how did you manage to choose a drink I like so much?” Hande asks sounding impressed, which makes the poor Julian to blush again. ”Well, erm... I wish I could say it was intuition, but... uhm... I remember how you once told me you like lemons so...” the man stammers. Now it's Hande's turn to get embarrassed; she doesn't blush visibly, but she can feel her cheeks burn. Julian remembers random things I've mentioned to him? ”You're way too good friend for me... I really am flattered, that you remember my ramblings.”

A little later Barth, the barkeeper, brings their meals in front of them and they eat in comfortable silence, sometimes asking or commenting something. Hande finds the tavern's atmosphere a little rowdy, but not hostile, and she feels more at ease. It's nice to spend time with Julian and see him outside of their work. Suddenly Hande's concentration turns to a discussion a few tables away. There are four men discussing in a foreign language which Hande recognises as Hjallean. She gets excited – she hasn't met any people from her mother's hometown for a long time. She apologises Julian and turns to face the men, ”Förlåt mig. Är ni från Hjalle?¹” The men turn to face Hande, looking positively surprised, ”Ja. Hur kan du tala hjalska, är du från där också?²” Hande smiles and answers, ”Jag föddes i Karnassos. Min mamma är från Hjalle, men hon tillhör Skogsfolket.³” The quintet continues their excited conversation. Julian smiles and watches how Hande speaks fluently in Hjallean, and listens when she finds out that the men are sailors and actually know her grandfather. Hande seems so happy to hear from her family that Julian can feel it, too. He also can't help, but to miss his own family a little.

A little later Julian also joins the conversation which causes the men and Hande to cheer in surprise. The group has a friendly conversation and orders drinks to each other, until the band starts to play a Hjallean folk song which causes the sailors and Hande to sing along. Julian can't help but notice how Hande's voice is clear and beautiful, echoing above hollering of the sailors. To be entirely honest, Julian is mesmerized my her voice – she sounds like a siren, without ill intent, of course. After the song had ended, the sailors cheer to Hande, who looks a little humbled after getting that much attention, but still has a small smile on her face. The band's leader shouts to their table, ”Since the miss sang so beautifully, you can decide our next song!” Hande glances at Julian with a confused expression on her face. Julian just smiles to her encouragingly and winks. Hande smirks and states, ”I will decide, but on one condition: I get to play it, too.”

The band leader looks curious, ”Can the miss play, as well?” Hande nods and answers, ”Yes, I can play the fiddle. I've had lessons since I was a little girl.” The other band members grin and the fiddler steps up, handing their instrument to Hande. She stands up and walks to the corner, inspecting the fiddle for a moment. After she's satisfied, she tunes the instrument and asks, ”Do you know this song?” Hande plays a little part as a sample and the band leader chuckles and agrees. The leader gives a mark about starting the song and Hande joins the band. Julian is awed: this woman doesn't have a single drop of alcohol in her, and she still is having the time of her life. Joyful, wonderful singer and player even – and she's never mentioned any of that to him. This fascinating combination of humbleness and showmanship. Julian watches how Hande's fingers move on the fiddle, how concentrated she is. The song is a little melancholic, but still eventful and fast. The world seems to disappear: there's only music and Hande.

The enchantment is broken when the song ends. Hande remembers where she is and is a little flabbergasted by her courage, but is happy that she played. She doesn't remember when was the last time she had this much fun – in Julian's company she feels at ease, like her old self is coming back to life after so many years. Hande turns to see Julian who is cheering and applauding to them with the others at the tavern. The band leader thanks her when she gives the fiddle back to its owner and returns to her companion. ”Wow... I didn't know you could sing or play!” Julian compliments when she sits down. Hande lowers her gaze for a moment, but soon looks up and shrugs, ”Well... You don't need singing or playing when you're trying to be a doctor's apprentice. To be honest, complimenting myself is really hard for me, and I got this temporary moment of courage. I haven't played in front of an audience for years.” Julian smiles to Hande and feels warmth inside of him – he isn't sure if it's because of alcohol or his company. Concentrate. She's your apprentice. Julian clears his throat and speaks again, ”Did you like it? Playing in front of an audience, I mean.” Hande seems pensive before she gives a hesitant answer, ”Yes.”

Before Julian can say or do anything else, one of the sailors cut in. ”You should be proud of yourself, you really did great back there! Was that a Forestian song? I recognised it, but I'm not sure.” Hande turns to face the sailors and nods, ”Yes. I was surprised the band knew it, but it was fun. Karnassian music is much more popular, so it's nice to hear Hjallean ones for a change.” The group continues their conversation, but Julian is mostly concentrated on Hande. When they are telling about their work to the sailors, Julian, now a little tipsy, tells in surprising excitement, ”Yes... But you know what? Hande here, she... She can do MAGIC!” Hande doesn't have time to react before the sailors gasp in excitement and plead her to show them. Julian now realises he might have screwed up and tries to come to her rescue, but Hande speaks after a little silence, ”Would you like to hear a story? I can illustrate it with magic.” The sailors and even Julian show their enthusiasm for the idea. One of the sailors suggest a scary story and Hande proceeds, telling a Karnassian story about a jinn who fell in love with a human, but in time the human went mad for being so close to the jinn.

Probably for the first time in his life, Julian is awed by seeing magic. The light figures dancing in the air while Hande tells the story such a fascinating way make Julian feel giddy, almost like a child again. Being with Hande here and how... radiant she is, it's nearly overwhelming. The story is indeed scary, but he can't help but smile at her, and his heart jumps when Hande gives him a little smile back with her sparkling eyes. Other patrons have also gathered around watching the spectacle and shower Hande with compliments after the story is over. The sailors try to ask her to tell another, but Hande chuckles, ”I'm sorry, guys, but magic can be very taxing and I don't want to exhaust myself after a long day.” The sailors groan in disappointment, but still pat Hande on her shoulders, buying her one more drink. Julian hasn't bought any more drinks, because he tries not to get steaming, like Hande had expressed earlier – he doesn't want to make Hande feel uncomfortable. The music is compelling and he'd like to ask Hande to dance, but isn't sure if it's appropriate.

After a short internal debate, his reason seems to leave him, when Hande turns to look at him. Julian hasn't noticed it before, but now Hande's eyes look so beautiful, almost like the deep, blue water. His body starts to move on its own: he reaches his hand towards Hande, palm up and his mouth opens before he can think of it, ”Oh, miss Kuura... Would you like to have a dance with me?” Hande watches Julian's hand and laughs goodheartedly to his dramatic request. Julian is pretty sure Hande's thinking is pretending, but he still feels a little nervous. Finally Hande decides to save her teacher, ”Yes, I'd like that. Though, I must warn you, I haven't danced for a long time. I might be quite rusty.” Julian just chuckles and reassures his apprentice by saying that she'll be fine. Hande smiles to Julian again and gives her hand to him.

Julian places his hand on Hande's waist chastely and leads her to dance. His apprentice is a little tense at first, probably because they're first time this close to each other and because she is nervous about her dancing skills. ”Just relax, I got you,” Julian whispers to Hande, smiling to her reassuringly. Hande takes a deep breath and nods, trying to smile back, although the final result is a little lopsided. The current song is quite fast, just perfect for Julian. He guides Hande who seems to trust him enough and let the music, rhythm and Julian lead her. After a moment she relaxes and the dance feels more natural. Julian enjoys being this close to Hande, seeing her feeling comfortable in his arms. She's so vibrant, so beautiful... I haven't noticed it before. Julian tries to shake off his thoughts and have a little conversation with his apprentice, complimenting her dancing and telling how nice the evening has been. Hande smiles to him which makes him feel weak in his knees. She enjoys my company, her laughter, so full of joy. It almost makes me forget the current situation...

The dance is enchanting and Julian wants the moment to never end. The band starts to play a different song, much more speedy than the last one. This causes Julian to get an idea. He faces Hande with a little smirk on his face. ”Hande, do you trust me?” he asks. Hande looks at Julian a little hesitant, but then lets out a little laugh, ”Yes, I do trust you, Julian. But please, don't kill me.” Hande's last remark causes Julian to bark a laughter and whisper into her ear, ”I wouldn't dream of it.” He tightens his grip of Hande and leads her to the outskirts of the dance floor. Hande only gets a little warning to brace herself, before Julian lifts her, so she's now standing on a chair, and he soon follows suit. Then he rises on a longer table, taking Hande with her. She lets out a surprised yelp, but recovers soon. ”Why, Julian, are you suggesting, that we'd dance on the table?” Hande whispers her question, and Julian can hear her mischievous tone. Oh gods, she's a treasure.

Julian's smirk gets wider and he twirls Hande around before starting to dance properly. The band speeds up and patrons cheer to the duo while some of them try to save their pints. None of the things on the table gets knocked – Hande lets Julian lead her and he's done this before so he is very confident with his partner. The Rowdy Raven is filled with music, cheering and Hande's and Julian's laughter. Suddenly Hande takes the charge and dips Julian in the middle of the table, making him grab Hande for his life. Now it's Hande's turn to smirk and she leans in to whisper to Julian, ”Thank you, Julian. I didn't realise I needed this.” Julian blushes, but manages to give Hande a bashful smile, when Hande lifts him up and they continue their dance. Julian forgets everyone else and just gaze at Hande mesmerized, feeling happy for the first time for gods know how long. This intelligent, warm-hearted and beautiful person is dancing with him, smiling at him.

Oh shit. I think I have a crush.

TRANSLATIONS:

¹ ”Excuse me. Are you from Hjalle?

² ”Yes. How can you talk Hjallean, are you from there, too?”

³ ”I was born in Karnassos. My mom is from Hjalle, but she belongs to Forest people.”

My AO3

#The Arcana #Julian Devorak #fan apprentice #Hande the Apprentice #fanfic #my writing #my work #arcana eotp #Hanian

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talesfromlissom · 4 years ago

Text

Glory of the Moon

A/N: This is split into four separate parts, and it’s also really long so uh yeah, sorry if the characters act ooc, I’m still trying to figure out who I want to write most of them, and I haven’t done character studies with any of the characters (minus solider:76) so sorry y’all.

This is also a GN reader for all the people that like GN readers, so any pronouns can go for the role of (Y/N) ;), have fun~

This is kind of my own idea, featuring Poly!Mchanzo but Mcree and (Y/N) are werewolves.

Summary: As the recall has been issued, new recruits start to flood into overwatch due to recommendations, from old and new allies. However, the newest recruit seems to have an interest in Hanzo, much to Jesse’s dislike.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

“So, what do you think of the new recruit?” Was the first thing that came to Jesse’s ears that morning.

Jesse shrugged.

“Haven’t met ‘em yet.”

“Well, from what Lena tells me, his name is Dallas, and...he’s a werewolf.”

Now that caught Jesse’s attention.

“Another one? Damn, might as well make half of the base off limits during the full moon.”

“Bah! The only thing you and I do according to Hanzo is bother him with belly rubs.”

Jesse snickered.

“Speakin’ of Han, where is he?”

(Y/N) shrugged.

“Not sure, he said he wanted to go and train before people started filling it,” (Y/N) replied. “He says he doesn’t like it when he keeps people waiting.”

A pause.

“Liar.”

“Fine, he said that he doesn’t want Genji to come into the training ground and challenge him to a fight in the middle of the day.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“If you tell him that I told you that he’ll smother me with a pillow.”

“I...Ima tell him.”

“Jesse-mf-Mcree, you better not-”

──•~❉+❉~•──

“Well ain’t he a sight.” Jesse muttered, as (Y/N), and him had come to the training grounds, seeing the new recruit.

(Y/N) could tell he was new, he didn’t have a uniform.

This man was dressed in black jeans, ripped jeans of course, (Y/N) smiled.

This man was young, maybe getting into his late 30’s, and with his white t-shirt and his black jacket, he knew this man at least had a fashion sense.

(Y/N) heard tapping of feet fill the air, and based on how fast they moved they knew automatically who it was.

“Heya Han, how you doin’?” Jesse said, beating (Y/N) to greeting the smaller man.

“Well, I was training, but the new recruit came and people filed in.”

“Ah! My friends!” Reinhart’s booming voice yelled. “Come meet the new recruit!”

“Speak of the devil.” Jesse muttered as the crowd parted.

(Y/N) crossed their arms and raised an eyebrow as the man walked over.

And Jesse extended a glance to (Y/N) as the man came into range.

This man was definitely a werewolf.

He practically wreaked of it.

However, (Y/N) couldn’t pinpoint what pack he was from, because he didn’t smell like an omega.

The man grinned at (Y/N).

“Alpha (Y/N)? Is that really you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “In the flesh, and you are?”

“Dallas! Dallas Starmonger! I’m from the western pack in Oregon!” He beamed. “It's an honor to speak to you!”

(Y/N) grinned.

“The western pack? Ain’t y’all-” Jesse began.

“And who is this?” Dallas asked, gesturing to Hanzo.

Hanzo paused.

“Oh, Hanzo Shimada, at your service.”

Dallas watched as the man extended the hand.

“No, the pleasure is all mine.”

And (Y/N) had to stop Mcree from storming over when the man kissed Hanzo’s hand.

Hanzo blinked as Dallas walked by, clicking his teeth and entering the base.

“What the ‘ell was that!” Jesse cried.

“A proper greeting?”

“He kissed yer hand, Han.”

“You do realize that is a form of greeting, Mcree?”

“But-”

(Y/N) shook their head.

“(Y/N), help me out ‘ere!”

“No. I’m gonna go train with Zarya and Mei, see ya.”

“But-but darlin’-!”

“Bye Jesse! Go talk to Dallas or somethin’!”

Hanzo snickered as Jesse crossed his arms and pouted.

“Are you jealous Jesse?”

“No.”

“Jesse, calm yourself, this man is a werewolf, if I am correct, your scent, as well as (Y/N)’s lingers on me, he’ll know to keep away.”

Jesse still pouted as Hanzo gave him a pat on the shoulder and walked into the hall, and turned to go towards the cafeteria.

He stood there for a bit.

Maybe he was just being paranoid.

──•~❉+❉~•──

“He still hasn’t said hello to me.” Jesse huffed.

(Y/N) shook their head.

“Jesse, he probably didn’t see you.”

“Didn’t see my ass, he looked right at me!” Jesse paused. “Somethin’ about this guy doesn’t feel right.” Another pause. “Jeez, if I had a dollar for everytime I caught that man staring at Han, I’d pay off my own goddamn bounty.”

(Y/N) rolled their eyes. “C’mon Jesse, you and I said that about Hanzo, and now look where we are, we’re all dating.”

“Tsk.” Jesse muttered, rounding the corner.

“And besides, Hanzo is the most observant out of us, if he knows something is up, he’ll know it before we do.”

“I just, I don’t-”

Jesse came to a halt, spying Hanzo and Dallas down the hall.

Hanzo was leaning against a wall, with Dallas hovering over him, the two engaged in casual chatter.

Jesse gestured to the two.

“See?”

“Jesse, be polite.”

“I am being polite!”

“Ah, (Y/N), and...Joel..?” Dallas began as the two walked over.

“It’s Jesse.” Jesse hissed.

“Ah, Jesse right,” Dallas corrected. “So, you three are the only werewolves here?”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow. “Three?”

“Hanzo ain’t a werewolf,” Jesse muttered, and (Y/N) narrowed their gaze at him, noticing the slight attitude in his tone.

(Y/N) huffed at Jesse who narrowed his gaze even further.

“Ah, he’s a human then?”

“Yep.”

“Hm.” Dallas said. “That’s a good thing to know.”

“And why’s that?”

“Jesse, calm-”

“No no, it's fine,” Dallas said, scratching the back of his neck. “I heard that the new recruits get paired to spar against the older recruits, so I just wanted to know so I can go easy on him-”

“You do not have to go easy on me. I can handle it.” Hanzo replied.

Dallas then grinned.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Nice, well, see you guys around, Mrs.Amari still has to show me around!”

As the man ran off, (Y/N) immediately turned to Jesse.

“Jesse, you need to take a chill pill.”

“I’m completely chill darlin’. Completely.” Jesse snapped through gritted teeth.

──•~❉+❉~•──

Things didn’t get much better between Jesse and Dallas.

But they did between Dallas and Hanzo.

Hanzo found a mutual understanding in Dallas.

Dallas, was raised in a crime family as well, with his father being a member of the mafia.

Unlike Hanzo’s father, Dallas’ was just a member, not the leader.

So he understood the expectations.

Alas, Dallas ran away, not wanting to participate in such violent things, and joined overwatch to help, is what Dallas told him anyways.

He found himself having to speak to Dallas by himself, or with (Y/N) around, since Jesse and Dallas never got along.

This led to...a lot of fights between (Y/N) and Jesse, whenever (Y/N) caught Jesse being rude.

Hanzo sat in the background most of the time when the two fought.

Tempers flared high between the two as of right now, not just because of this new recruit,but the full moon was tonight.

Which meant Hanzo tried to keep his distance, but again, there was a fight, and he didn’t leave in time.

──•~❉+❉~•──

“Jesse what hell were you thinking!” (Y/N) cried as Jesse merely looked at the floor.

“God! Can’t you get your head out of your ass for two seconds and actually try to get along with this guy?”

“He called me an Omega!”

“So what! I get called an Omega too? It isn’t rare, Jesse!”

“He knew that I’d punch him if I said that!”

“He did not Jesse. I bet Dallas is just tired of you being rude to him so he decided to be rude back!”

“Why the hell are you taking his side?”

“I’m not taking anybody’s side Jess’, why would you think I’d do that to you!”

“Then why don’t ya say anythin’!” A pause. “He interrupts me, ignores me, and yet you say nothin’! You’re a goddamn alpha, he’ll listen to you!”

“No he won’t! He’s an alpha too Jess’!”

Jesse let out a groan of frustration.

“And what about Han? Huh, I guess you don’t see him feel ‘im up him do ya?”

“He’s never done that before!”

“Yes he has!” Jesse yelled, his voice getting louder.

Hanzo tensed as the shouting would get louder, and the grip on his book tightened.

Soon, the book slammed shut, causing (Y/N) and Jesse to turn to him.

“Can you two please cease this useless fighting!” Hanzo cried. “It brings us nowhere!”

Silence.

“(Y/N), Jesse isn’t going to like everyone, but Jesse, you must be polite to Dallas, it's unprofessional and he is your team member!”

“Han-”

“No! You are both acting like children, hell, I can’t sit down and have a meal without you two fighting about this man! He is just a man!”

And that was the last straw.

Hanzo marched past the two enraged werewolves, who were still silent.

“I’m going to meditate, do not bother me.”

And the door shut, and frankly, (Y/N) and Jesse swore the door sounded louder than before.

──•~❉+❉~•──

It was always calming in the zen garden.

It was built by request of Genji and Zenyatta.

Hanzo was thankful it was late, Genji and Zenyatta tended to meditate during the day.

So as of right now, he was alone.

The calming atmosphere almost always brought some peace to his mind.

Near the fountain, eyes shut.

However, they snapped open as the leaves brushed next to him.

He turned, and spotted Dallas coming out of the bushes.

A water bottle in hand.

And a towel wrapped around his neck.

Dallas paused.

“Oh, heya Hanzo, how are you doing?”

“I am fine, you?”

Dallas frowned.

“I know that look,” He said. “Joel and (Y/N) fought again I’m guessing?”

“Is it that obvious?” A pause. “And his name is Jesse.”

Dallas muttered an apology before sitting down, next to Hanzo.

Hanzo fidgeted.

“What...are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was working out with Reinhart and Junkrat, but I got tired and left early,” He said, placing the bottle down. “God, those two have so much stamina.”

Hanzo shook his head.

“Indeed.”

Silence.

“You...want a sip?”

“What?”

“Of my water.”

“Erm..no thank you.”

“You sure? Dr.Ziegler told me that you tend to meditate for hours, it shouldn’t hurt to drink something small.”

Hanzo thought for a moment, his dragons spoke to him, telling him to go see (Y/N) and Jesse.

He brushed it off and grabbed the water bottle, taking a few gulps.

“See? Isn’t that better?”

Hanzo shook his head.

“I suppose.”

Dallas grinned.

“Doesn’t Winston have some fruit here?”

“This isn’t the greenhouse, Dallas.”

“I know but it doesn’t hurt to look right?”

Hanzo sighed.

“You may look, but I am not.”

“Alright, see ya tomorrow then.”

“Farewell.”

Hanzo shut his eyes yet again.

──•~❉+❉~•──

After fifteen minutes, Hanzo felt off.

His head was pounding, his arms felt weak.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

When were the lights this bright.

Hanzo stood up-

He wobbled and fell against the fountain, gripping his head.

His vision was getting more distorted and blurry every time he blinked.

He heard footsteps behind him.

“God, it was easy breaking into this place.” A voice said off in the distance.

“You sure this is the place?”

Hanzo hobbled forward, only to fall to the ground.

“Oh it's the place alright.” He heard Dallas’ voice interrupt.

Through his blurred vision, he saw the faint outline of Dallas, crouching near him.

The corner of his eyes began to turn to black, as he felt himself be lifted from the ground and placed on Dallas’ shoulder.

“Welcome to the Eastern Pack of Spain, Hanzo Shimada.”

#hanzo x reader #mcree x reader #mchanzo x reader #glory of the moon series #aaaa #werewolf reader #werewolves #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagines #my writing #werewolf mcree #werewolf!mcree

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snowdice · 5 years ago

Text

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 3)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton (more to be added)

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman Logan (more to be added)

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2

The man Virgil had carjacked, Patton he had said, hummed a soft tune as he pulled back onto the interstate. Virgil glanced down at the ice cream in his hands and took a second bite. Was he…was he actually serious about all of this?

Virgil was suspicious, but the guy had been nothing but surprisingly nice for someone who’d been kidnapped. The nicer he was, the worse Virgil felt about the whole, breaking into his car and threatening him at knife point thing. Maybe that was the point? Maybe he was hoping Virgil would feel bad enough to eventually just tell him drive to the police station so he could turn himself in.

Not likely.

It didn’t matter how nice the dude was to him, he was not going anywhere his mother might be able to find him. Nope. Not happening. Not after what happened earlier in the day. He’s just lucky he’d been snooping in his dad’s room trying to find where the man had hidden the Gameboy and found whatever radio thing dad had hidden beneath a floorboard under his bed.

Well. “Lucky” was perhaps not the right word, he thought as he stuffed an even larger spoonful of ice cream into his mouth while trying to force himself not to cry. Nothing was lucky about today.

He didn’t know why dad had the radio thing. (He was pretty sure at this point that he didn’t know a lot of things.) All he knew was that it was some type of communication device and his mother’s voice would have been undeniably clear on it even if people hadn’t been calling her by name. He hadn’t known what on Earth was going on. All he knew was that he’d backed away from it in horror and confusion when the message that Remington Gates was dead came through. Mom had said “good.” He’d hoped it had been some kind of trick, but when some guy had broken into the house to take him to his mother not even 10 minutes later, he’d pieced together the truth.

His dad was dead. His mom had killed him. And whatever her plans were for Virgil, Virgil didn’t want any part of it. Luckily, when he was 12, he’d watched a horror movie and hadn’t slept for a week. His dad had solved the problem by showing him how to use pepper spray effectively and then letting him keep a can of it in his nightstand in case anyone ever broke in to try to kidnap him. Virgil was… pretty sure dad hadn’t ever thought someone would break in and try to kidnap him.

He’d pepper sprayed the guy mom had sent and grabbed a knife from the kitchen before booking it out the back door.

The options had been the park, the grocery store, or try to make it to the nearest bus stop and hope a bus arrived soon. In a bid to be unpredictable, he’d gone to the grocery store. Of course, he’d needed to get out of the neighborhood and fast, but he knew a bus or any form of public transport would be easily trackable. The only solution was a car, but the problems with that were that Virgil didn’t have a car, he didn’t know how to hotwire a car, and his only experience driving had been when his older brother allowed him to drive a golf cart when he was 7 and he drove it into a pond.

Which had led him here, in a stranger’s car after waiting for him to come out of the store in the backseat and pressing a kitchen knife up against his neck. It had been… a day.

He finished the entire giant “concrete” ice cream thing Patton had got him and stuck it in the bag with the rest of the trash.

“Want to listen to the radio?” Patton asked. “Passenger gets to choose the station!”

“Er… sure.” Virgil reached forward to flip it on. They were far enough out of range that whatever station Patton had last listened to in town was now just static, so Virgil started to mess with the dials.

There didn’t seem to be any music channels that adhered to his tastes, so he just ended up on some pop station. He was just settling back into his seat when Patton’s phone started to ring from where he’d tossed it when he’d gotten into the car at the grocery store.

Virgil blinked at the phone. “Is that the Mission Impossible theme song?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Why does it sound like that?”

“It’s the kazoo version,” Patton explained.

“…Why?”

Patton just smiled. “I should probably answer it.”

“No!” Virgil said. “You’re not allowed to answer it.”

Patton shrugged. The music stopped after a few more seconds and then started up right after that.

“It’s my brother. He’s going to keep calling,” Patton informed him, “and if I don’t answer, he’s going to call the cops because he assumed, I was kidnapped. Which… in this case.”

“Shit,” Virgil said as the ringing stopped again only to pick up once more a moment later. “Shit. Fine. You can answer it, but I’m putting it on speaker and don’t try to tell him anything.”

“Yeah, alright,” Patton agreed easily.

Oh god, this was a bad idea. Virgil grabbed the phone and accepted the call before putting it on speaker.

“Hi, Lo.”

“Why aren’t you answering your home phone?”

“I’m not at home,” Patton said.

“Where are you?”

Patton considered it for a moment. “I’m… on a road trip.”

“A road trip?” the man on the other end of the line asked blankly. “What do you… what do you mean?”

“I mean, I got in my car and now I’m driving.”

“You were supposed to be home all week. Patton, I need you to be in the city right now. Where are you?”

Virgil shook his head wildly.

“I don’t know,” Patton said thoughtfully. “A road.”

“Patton,” the man groaned. “Why?”

“It’s just a thing that happened Lo, sorry if you needed me.”

“How is a road trip a ‘thing’ that just ‘happens,’ Patton?” he asked. Patton glanced at Virgil.

“Erm… it just did?” he said.

“Patton!”

“Anyway, I’m a little bit busy so talk to you later!”

“Patton do not hang up the phone!”

“Love you Logi!” He jerked his head at Virgil and Virgil hit the end call button.

The second the call ended Virgil groaned. “It would have been better if you just didn’t answer.”

The Mission Impossible Song: Kazoo Version started playing again.

“It’ll be best if you just turn that off,” Patton said.

“Won’t he just call the cops?”

Patton gave him a secret smile. “No, he’ll just think I’m being silly and ignoring him.”

“Do you do stuff like that often?” Virgil asked.

“Just enough so he doesn’t ask questions when I don’t want him to,” Patton divulged. “It’s a little brother thing, you know.”

Virgil flinched just a bit. A brother thing. He wondered where his brother was now. He’d always been nice to Virgil, but he’d also always been obedient to mom. He wondered if he knew about Virgil’s dad. The two had always gotten along even though he wasn’t Janus’s father, but mom was… mom. Virgil didn’t want to know whose side he’d take.

The ringtone ended and started back up once again. Virgil held down the power button until it turned off and decided to store it in the glove compartment so Patton couldn’t reach it as easily. (Though, perhaps he should have thought of that earlier, but he was new to the whole kidnapping thing.)

He sat back against the seat and started rubbing at the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Everything okay over there?” Patton asked.

“I’m fine,” Virgil snapped and then bristled under the raised eyebrow he got in return. “This radio station is just stupid,” he grumbled.

“Well, you can change it,” Patton pointed out.

The radio station wasn’t actually the problem, but it did give him something to do with his hands. He reached forward and started fiddling with the radio dials. About 10 minutes later he hit a radio station that wasn’t music, but some guy talking. Virgil paused on the station and sat back. Whoever the guy was, his voice was low and soothing.

Virgil closed his eyes and listened for a few minutes before he let out a startled chuckle. “He’s talking about Moth Man?”

He opened his eyes to see Patton’s face crinkled up into a soft smile. “He is.”

Virgil couldn’t help but start to giggle. He laughed so hard that it started to blur into sobbing. He felt a gentle touch on his knee and looked over at Patton.

“There are tissues in the glove box,” he told Virgil. Virgil nodded and reached forward into to the glove box to grab the Kleenex Box while still sniffling.

He blotted at his eyes and blew his nose before sticking the dirty tissue into his hoodie pocket.

Today had been a horrible day. He was exhausted. He leaned back against the seat and his eyes flickered closed.

“Do you want me to change the radio station?” Patton asked softly.

Virgil laughed again and barely restrained himself from going into another fit. “No, no,” he said. “It’s fine. I’ve gotta hear how it ends.”

“That’s fair,” Patton said and though Virgil had his eyes closed, he imagined he was shooting him one of those confusing soft smiles again.

The conspiracy theory radio guy kept blathering on about sightings of Moth Man in a deceptively calm tone.

Wow Virgil was tired.

…

Falling asleep while the guy you carjacked drove probably wasn’t a good idea.

That was one of the last coherent thoughts he had before he drifted off to sleep.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 4 My Master Post

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #platonic moxiety #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #creativitwins #knives #kidnapping #carjacking #murder mentioned #guns mentioned #drugs mentioned #adriana writes #road trips and missing persons

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imaginejamesandsirius · 4 years ago

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Hello there, I love your Sirius and James, they feel so in Character. I just read the books again and crave everything I can get my hands on and your fics are just what I need :D. Could I pretty please get a getting together one? A little slow burn tossed into if that's possible? I don't really care how they get together but maybe it happens in the summer Sirius runs away? Anyway, thanks for all your fics, the one with James patronus being padfood was read by me like 20 times over. :D Thanks!

James wasn't used to chickening out, but that's exactly what he did. He'd wanted to ask Sirius on a date-- a real date, just the two of them where they could hold hands and maybe Sirius would let James kiss his cheek-- but he'd panicked at the last second and said that they should do some research for a prank.

Instead of the two of them, it was going to be them and also Peter and Remus in the library all night. It didn't sound half-bad, but James had really been hoping that they'd start dating. It would be so much fun! Plus, it would make a good story. Meeting the love of your life when you were eleven and immediately getting together? That was the way great love stories went.

But it would be fine. James could wait a little bit longer. Besides, he had time. So far, Sirius hadn't mentioned wanting to date anyone.

James tried to ask Sirius on a date again. He failed. Again. It would be easier if Sirius said no, instead of James never getting the question out.

In the four years of their friendship-- coming into five years-- James had started ask out Sirius thirty-eight times. He'd thought about asking him on a date far more often, but he'd never managed to get anything out for most of those. Too many to count, honestly. Mostly he ended up staring at Sirius and frowning because he was annoyed with himself, and he would get shaken out of it when someone noticed.

But this time was going to be different. Thirty-nine tries, but this one was going to be the one that he actually managed to get out. He didn't know why he was worrying about it so much anyways. Sirius was his best mate! They were close-- closer than two people had any right to be, if you listened to Moony-- and he was pretty sure that Sirius would say yes. Sirius never looked interested in dating anyone, and he spent all his time with James. This was going to go well; all he had to do was finish asking this time, and it would be great.

It was weird, but not entirely surprising, that this was around the time Wormtail said, "Hey, did you hear that Padfoot has a date tonight?"

"He has a what," James said.

"Yeah. Dorcas Meadows."

James wrinkled his nose. "Didn't she just dye her hair blue?"

"Yes," Moony said, not moving his head from where he was peering so closely at a book, his nose was almost brushing the paper. "I guess Padfoot's into that sort of thing. Either that or he- I dunno, actually likes her and doesn't give a shite what colour her hair is?"

"Did he say that he likes her?" James asked, frowning. He hadn't heard anything. He was Sirius's best friend; information about who he fancied and who he wanted to ask on a date should come to him first instead of from a secondary source.

"He didn't say anything to me about it," Moony said, "but c'mon, it's Padfoot. Since when does he talk to any of us about birds? Or blokes. Or you, for that matter." He finally put some space between his face and the book, but then he was scratching something on his parchment and completely missed the incredulous look James shot him. "You don't talk about dating people either."

"Well that's different, he's already married to Quidditch," Wormtail said with a snort.

How were these people his friends. James was going to replace them as soon as he figured out who he could replace them with.

"We can't expect for him to talk about Quidditch all the time and still have space to fit in who he fancies. If he even has eyes for anything other than a quaffle," Wormtail added, rolling his eyes.

New friends. Immediately. He got up and left, hoping that they would think about being a little bit nicer to their friends who were only planning for the future, but the reality was that they barely noticed him going. He needed to find Sirius and ask him about this, anyways. He was in the first place James checked-- the dormitory. "Padfoot, the hell?"

"What? I took off my shoes first."

He thought James was upset about him being on his bed. As if. Although he really had taken off his shoes, which James appreciated. "Not that. Dorcas."

"What about Dorcas?"

"Wormtail said you have a date with her. Tonight."

"Yeah, so?"

"You didn't tell me."

Sirius blinked up at him. "Why would I?"

"I'm your best mate! We're supposed to talk about dates. And who you fancy. And all that other rot."

"Oh," Sirius said, looking back down at his nails-- which apparently, he was busy painting red. "It's not like I fancy her; it's just a date."

"Why would you go on date with someone you don't fancy?"

There was an awkward pause, followed by a very unconvincing, "I dunno."

James gaped at him. "Excuse me?" Sirius was lying to him? That was not on.

"It's not a big deal," he said, looking back up at James. "She asked, and I figured that I didn't have anything else to do tonight, so I said yes. Besides, Dorcas is cool."

She was, but it was so not the point. "Yeah. Fine, whatever."

"Why are you being weird?"

"I'm not weird, this is just how I am."

"Right," Sirius said slowly, successfully conveying how little he believed that excuse.

"Er, are you punishing yourself or summat?" James asked. He didn't want to think that that's what was happening, but what other reason would Sirius have for not moving out of the drizzle? Nutter didn't even have a jacket on.

He got to his feet and shuffled inside, breezing past James in the doorway. "Don't be stupid," Sirius muttered.

James frowned a little but didn't push it. Sirius had been different ever since he ran away. There were details he wasn't sharing; some of them were fine, but others were effecting him. James didn't think that he'd be able to fix it, but it would do Sirius good to talk about it and have someone listen. In theory. In practice, he didn't know what Sirius was keeping back, so he couldn't judge it for sure.

He didn't know how to help him. He had no idea how to deal with what Sirius had been through, so he alternated between acting like nothing had happened and smothering him with hugs any time he felt sad-- James, that is, not Sirius; he could never tell when Sirius was sad these days. Acting normal right now would mean going and pestering Sirius into helping him on some of the set-up for the Marauders' Map, but he didn't really feel like doing that right now. He kind of wanted to wrap his arms around Sirius and not let go for a couple minutes, but Sirius was probably changing right now.

James's feet took him to the kitchen, and he realised that hot cocoa would be the absolute best thing right now. Maybe not for Sirius, but he didn't know how to help Sirius right now anyways, so he might as well do something that was going to make him feel better. He did grab the marshmallows from the cupboard even though he didn't like them, because he knew that Sirius did. Most people liked mini-marshmallows in their hot cocoa, but Sirius liked two full size ones dropped right in. James didn't know why, but what Sirius liked, Sirius was damn well going to get.

He was just about to put the marshmallows in Sirius's mug when he heard his name being called. "Kitchen!" he yelled back. He picked up the mugs and brought them over to the table.

"You made cocoa?" Sirius said, a touch disbelieving.

"Yes. Drink up."

"Erm. Okay," Sirius muttered. He sat heavily in one of the chairs around the table and wrapped his hands around the mug, pulling it towards himself with a small hunch to his shoulders like he was afraid it would be taken from him. "You put marshmallows in it."

"Yeah."

"I thought you said it was weird."

"It is, but that's no reason for you not to have it," James said, taking a sip and burning his tongue. He felt like he should be better at temperature control by now, but he always ended up with his tea and hot cocoa being too damn hot. Sirius was smarter, so he blew on it before tilting it towards his mouth.

James couldn't decide if the longing in him was for seeing Sirius comfortable, or if it was because he wanted to kiss him. Either way, he couldn't act on it. Not now. Before, he'd been too scared to ask Sirius out, but now... now he didn't need to add to Sirius's stress. Whether he said yes or no, it would make his life more difficult. That was fine when all they were doing was worrying about school, but Sirius had an entire family that now wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn't the right time for James to start talking about dating and being in love and shite.

It wasn't the middle of the night, but it was earlier than James had planned on waking up. He had no bloody idea what Sirius was doing awake at five in the morning, but he woke up when Sirius crawled into bed with him. He didn't get under the covers, so it's not that it was a nightmare. He just laid on top of the duvet and curled up with a pillow.

"Whatcha doin' up?" James muttered.

"Go back to sleep," Sirius whispered.

"'m already up." He was still tired, but he could tell that he wasn't going to get back to sleep. "What's goin' on?"

"Nothing. I... didn't want to be alone. Couldn't stop thinking."

James rubbed his hands over his face to wake himself up a little more. "How would me being asleep help you stop thinking?"

"I don't know," Sirius said quietly. "You always help."

"James, why don't you date?" Sirius asked out of the blue one afternoon over lunch.

"Huh?"

"You never date anyone."

"You only started dating last year," James said defensively.

"Right, but you never talk about it."

"Neither do you. You never fancied anyone, and sometimes you'd disappear for a date without saying anything."

"That's because it never went anywhere. It's not like I was in love with any of them; it was just some fun."

"So why are you allowed to not be interested in anyone but I'm not? I don't want to date people I'm not interested in. That's all there is to it."

"I never said I wasn't interested in someone," Sirius muttered, casting his eyes down at the table.

"Then ask them on a date and stop pestering me," James grumbled. Hearing that Sirius did-- in fact-- fancy someone, wasn't exactly improving his mood.

"...James?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you go on a date with me?"

James tried to look at him so quickly that his elbow slipped off the table, and he nearly fell into his plate face first. "Yes. What? Yes. No take-back's," James said shoving a finger in his face.

Sirius went a little cross-eyed trying to keep sight of his hand, then leaned back a little. "I'm not going to date you if you poke my eye out."

"I would never!" James said, puffing up indignantly as he drew his hand back.

"Well not on purpose, no."

"Not ever." James narrowed his eyes at Sirius. "You'd better not be joking."

"Why would I be joking?"

"I dunno, but I've been trying to ask you out for like five years so I'm not taking any chances."

"Five years? Really?" Sirius asked.

"I will shove the rest of this sandwich in your face if you mock me."

Sirius held up his hands in surrender, but there was no tamping down on the smile spreading across his face.

#prongsfoot #marauders #fanfic #james potter #sirius black #filled #no voldemort au #getting together #hogwarts time #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

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silvia7272 · 5 years ago

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5 ~ One More New Amigo

So, after a long thought, I think Rosina meeting some other people could be good, plus I might bring some pictures I’ve drawn as well. Also, as a quick note, I hope you know I don’t actually hate any of the characters but writing Spite/Salt Fics are so fun and I love it. Alya is, in fact, my favourite character for personal reasons.

My biggest inspiration for Rosina is Goku from Dragon Ball Z, Sonia Nevermind from Danganronpa 2 and a bit of Ziva David from NCIS, although I watched that when I was a lot younger so I may not remember her that well.

Word Count: 3221

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @daminett4life, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say.

I can’t remember but now Marinette’s place has a café in their bakery and that’s final, can’t be bothered to check.

***

It had been a week since the dubbed Ice Queens had become friends as everyone had put it. They must’ve been friends since they were little, they reasoned with themselves, there was no way anyone could become friends with Chloé in an evening.

No way.

Marinette had lied to them.

But they just had to get Rosina out of that toxic environment, she really was sweet and oblivious to those girls.

So, they were always scheming new ways to let Rosina see just what the really were like.

But it always made them become closer.

That field trip to Le Jardín Du Luxembourg? They became friends with Chloé.

Leaving them stranded there? They came back on a flying skateboard! Alya was devastated she couldn’t record in time, and whenever they asked Rosina if they could see it, they were denied & pushed away by the Ice Queen’s.

It sooo wasn’t fair, they were only trying to help Rosina. They just wanted to help and pull her away from the evilness the two radiated. But they were the bad guys?

No way.

But what broke their heart the most was seeing Lila’s painstakingly sad face every time their plan failed. Because it was if they had failed her, their best friend, their Class President.

So, they were determined to save their friend.

But that couldn’t take up their whole day, if it did, they would become obsessed and that wouldn't be healthy either.

So, they continued with activities and classes, until Mlle Bustier made an announcement.

***

“Now class I have an announcement, since two of our students so kindly suggested and even organised this little event themselves, so if you’d like to explain what it is to the class?” She pointed to the two people in her front row.

“I hope you all listen to their wonderful event they provided for them, now I’ll be off since it is lunch so you all best behave.” That last sentence was aimed towards the two girls at the back. Chloé had rudely announced she would be sitting with the other girls at the back, there was a reason there were only *two people per desks.

‘How irresponsible’ The blue-haired girl thought.

Adrien and Lila walked up to the teacher's desk as the others waited in suspense.

“Monsieur D’Argencourt said we were going to have a beginners fencing lesson for the whole school, and everyone from our Team is going to help out”

“I was the one to suggest and organise everything, Adrien was far too busy and asked for the best help he could get. We wanted this to be a surprise, I hope you’ll enjoy it” The whole class erupted in glee, Adrien didn’t care about the little lie she had made up, after all, he was taking the high road.

Although a certain redhead from the back couldn’t contain her excitement.

“You mean you’ve been on a fencing Team all this time and didn’t tell me, oh Sir I challenge you to a duel.” A glove flew across the room landing on Adrien’s cheek, everyone was speechless aside from a blonde who was on the floor laughing too much from what she just bare witnessed to.

Surprisingly Adrien was the first one to recover.

“Maybe you could warn me before you challenge me Rosina, but I accept”

“Adrien are you ok, oh my, your cheeks are red” Chloé was still laughing, but Adrien didn’t care.

“I’m fine, it’s a tradition in for duels anyway.”

Kim couldn’t help the smile as he thought of a suggestion.

“I’ve got an idea for a bet” They all groaned.

“Kim, I thought we said no more bets?”

“Hey! This one's good, and besides its not me who would do it” They all fell silent, waiting for him to explain.

“If Adrien wins then Rosina should stay with us. And then you can see just how bad they are and realise we are right Rosina” The others smirked, this was brilliant, Adrien was the best fencer here, and no offence to Rosina, but she didn’t seem that talented in that activity.

Before Rosina could add to that challenge Chloé spoke for her.

“We accept those terms, but when she wins you all have to back off and leave our friend alone” Adrien only wanted to have a friendly duel, not a gambling match.

“I-I don’t know guys; I don’t think that’s fa-” But he was cut off.

“Adrien how could you say that! You’re the only one who can do this, you wouldn’t want to let your friends down? Would you?” He paled, that thought terrified him. He took in the rest of the classes faces, they held disappointment, so much disappointment.

“Fine I’ll do it”

“Hooray, I can’t wait to see you in action Adrien” She kissed his cheek as they all left for lunch.

Adrien lingered for a second before catching up with them.

“Chloé what the hell you can’t just decide for her” Marinette was angry, that wasn’t fair to their red-haired friend. But more than being angry…

She was afraid.

“Its fine Marinette, she’s Crisono Tassa after all. Besides, it's not as if this bet could mean anything, you’ll stay with us right Rosina?” Rosina smiled at that.

“Of course I will Chloé, I love you two so much, I would never leave my besties. Which is why I won’t lose, I promise”

“You better, please.” Marinette looked sad, she didn’t want to lose a friend.

“Don’t worry Marinette, I’m the best fencer around here, so no need to worry, now let’s eat”

‘…I hope Kagami doesn’t hear that’

***

“I am the fencing Master Monsieur D’Argencourt, and with great pleasure, I’m here today to announce our fencing practice commences immediately” Everyone was split into groups since there were more classmates than fencers.

Marinette glanced and waved when she saw Kagami. She was about to walk over to her.

“Marinette, where’s Rosina?” Sadly, Alya interrupted her.

“She went home, considering she needed to get her own blade and armour, since she only uses her own”

“Tsk tsk Marinette it's actually called a Sabre, maybe you should fact check next time?” A jab was sent here way by the liar.

“Actually, depending which on weapon, there are three names Foil, Épée and Sabre, next time you should get your facts straight.” Kagami. Her glare was so intimidating it stopped Alya from commenting.

“I’m baaaaaaaaaack, hey guys, oh hi there, wow your cold icy stare is so cool and your freckles compliment you so much.” Kagami stood confused. Did- did this random girl compliment her out of nowhere?

“Kagami this is Rosina, Rosina this is Kagami my friend” Kagami cleared her throat to stick her hand out but it wasn’t needed when she felt arms wrap around her.

“Wow, it's so nice to meet another of Marinette’s friends, oh I’m sorry I hope I didn’t overstep a boundary, my Aunt told me about social boundaries beforehand. I’m so sorry”

“It's fine, your personality seems honest, creative, out-going, stubborn and overly eager which typically matches-”

“Ok that’s enough Kagami, can you help me put the equipment on?” Kagami was brutal enough with words already, Marinette didn’t want Rosina to be scared off as well.

“Wow, you got all of that from me, that’s so impressive, what’s my **Blood Type? And yours? If I had to make a guess ermmmm Type O?”

She blinked.

And again.

“I’ve only known Rosina for five minutes but if anything were to happen to her I would kill everyone here and then myself”

‘Where have I heard of that?’

“Erm Kagami, don’t you think you’re being a bit hasty?” She turned to Marinette with an intense stare.

“…Everyone.”

Dear Lord, she was serious.

“What is going on here? ***Thou are meant to be fencing not talking. Vitesse!” A familiar blond-haired boy came over.

“Ready Rosina?” He greeted her.

“Ready as I’ll ever be Adrian” She responded. They all sat in the stands, Alya recording and cheering for Adrien with the majority of the class. Marinette, Chloé and Kagami cheering, or internally thinking, for Rosina.

D’Argencourt was told to officiate beforehand and was eager to see if she was worthy to fight his best student, Adrien.

“En-Garde” They stood in the stance.

“Pret! Allez!”

Whoosh.

Not even a second went by before Adrien was down with a Sabre on his stomach.

“That was so fun, we should do that again Adrian” She offered her hand out to him, oblivious to everyone's faces.

“How- what- I- what just happened girl?” The first to get out of her state of shock was Alya.

“Hmm? I said I liked fencing, didn’t I?”

“But you were like inhuman out there. Why didn’t you tell us you were a pro? Keeping those secrets from us, would you like to tell us?” She lightly jabbed her elbow at the girl while she was still confused.

“You never ask-”

“Ahem, I believe we had a deal Césaire, you and the rest of the class have to back off like we promised” Alya was irritated.

“That’s not fair, we didn’t know she was a pro!”

“That doesn’t matter, you still agreed to it and since Adrien did lose you lose too, now get lost” She waved her hand in a dismissive motion before taking Rosina away.

“Rosina is her own person and should have a right to choose where she goes, are you trying to suggest she’s property?” A smug look entered Lila’s face.

“You can’t be serious right?” This time it was Marinette who stepped in.

“And just what do you mean by that?” Alix asks. She was disappointed with how much Marinette had changed.

“If Adrien had won you lot wouldn’t have had a problem with forcing her to be away from us, wouldn’t that sound as if she were property to you?” She loved being able to turn words against Lila, remembering each and every word that liar and the rest of her class had said was easy, too easy sometimes.

“It's only because we know how much of a bad influence you two can be on her, she’s so happy and I would love nothing more than for her to continue being like that around some much more politer people.” Lila had a remark to everything, one step ahead? No Marinette wouldn’t think that. No, that requires having to plan ahead in case something happened.

“Then why don’t we just ask her who she wants to hang out with?”

“Fine we will, just don’t be disappointed when your Trio becomes Dos”

“Keep telling yourself that loser” Their glaring contest ended as they turned to where Rosina was meant to be.

“Rosina you wouldn’t leave your best friends for these utterly useless people, right? Wait, where is she?” They looked around to find she was gone.

“Abstain!” They turned to see two fencers in front of D’Argencourt.

“Rosina and Kagami? When did they get there?” Bewildered, they watched when Rosina flipped through the air to dodge the touch.

“They left after you all argued, Kagami challenged her and she accepted, Monsieur D’Argencourt was eager to referee” Adrien explained, seeing the female fencers clash against each other truly was a sight to see.

‘She’s never fought me like that? I wonder why?’

“HAAAH!” Kagami lunged towards Rosina but was able to block it.

“Impressive Knave” Kagami then had to obstruct an incoming attack.

“I’ve been practising since I could walk”

“Oh really, then how about we get serious here?” Exchanging blows stopped and they jumped back and stood in their own stance.

“What are they doing? Why’d they stop?” A confused Kim asked.

“They are biding their time, waiting for the other to strike first, because this isn’t a timed match theoretically, they’ll have all the time in the world,” Max answered for everyone else.

All was still around the two, nothing else mattered but winning.

The blue-haired girl lunged first. And it almost looked like she was about to land a hit.

Almost.

“Attack, push point” The point had belonged to the silver-eyed girl.

“Wow that sure was a great workout” She stretched before doing some acrobatics across the mat.

All the while Kagami was still gaining her breath back, that match certainly took a toll on her, and yet Rosina was still as energetic as she had been, where did that leave her?

She had been the best wherever she went, she had to honour her families name, she had won all of her battles, the first one with Adrien was a tie.

So why did she lose?

“Hey Kagami, that was amazing, I’ve never seen anyone be able to compete with me before. Can we please please please fence some more, that was sooo much fun?” Kagami tried to see if there were any fictitious motives hidden in her eyes, if the minute she let her guard down she would be ridiculed by her. But there was nothing, just a happy gleam in her eyes as she continued asking questions while holding out her hand.

“Of course, I look forward to testing your skills.” They would’ve continued their talk, but they heard someone call out to them.

“That was amazing, your skills for your age are truly fantastique, you must tell me who your last Master was?” D’Argencourt was in awe of the girl’s skill.

“Oh, really thanks so much mister, my Aunty tells me I still have a lot to improve.”

“A lot to improve? Well, I’m sure we could help you with that. This was meant to be an event to show my pupils off, however, for the first time, I’m offering you Rosina…?”

“Scoats”

“Rosina Scoats, a place on my fencing Team, do you accept?” If you couldn’t tell she was happy, then clearly you were blind.

She was ecstatic.

“Yes, yes yes, of course, I want to spend more time with Kagami. Oh, Aunty will be so glad I have a club to attend. I’ve read so much about after school clubs.”

“Great, lessons are after school, every Monday, Tuesday and Friday for an hour. You’ll be given a uniform unless you want to use your own like Kagami here. But for now, lessons are over, I hope everyone had an exceptional time here.”

“Really? Great, then I’ll continue wearing this outfit, my Aunty made it specially.”

“You’re Aunt makes clothes?” That fact reminded her of the bluenette.

“Yep just like Mari. Ohhhhh~ maybe they could design together?”

“I doubt that” Marinette muttered under her breath still remembering her first meeting with her.

“Kagami would you like to go out for cakes, we can visit the bakery I live at, it's really close by?” Kagami grew perplexed.

“You live with Marinette?” She rubbed the back of her head.

“It’s a long story, I can tell you on the way if you want?” Kagami nodded, she wouldn’t be too far away from her Mother, if anything they could sit on the stairs of Dupont if her Mother wanted to.

“Oh wait, I have to get my other friends” For whatever reason the class held a smug look on their faces, mainly Alya and Lila.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you Rosi-” She walked straight past them.

“Mari, Chlo, wanna come too?” They nodded, and as they left Chloé looked back making a face.

“Told you, next time you want to lie, don’t do it about Rosina” Marinette gently nudged the blonde before they all left.

Overall to Rosina it was a great experience.

She got to see everything again through the Ladyblog after all.

***

“Really, but you’re so nice to each other. I can’t believe you didn’t like each other before” Rosina exclaimed while chewing on her croissant. They were able to stay in the bakery to their relief, but they were on a time limit.

“Believe it or not but we were all Adrien crazy, somehow that blond held a special place in my heart before ehem, you know who joined,” Marinette replied, drinking some juice, she could eat as many pastries as she could, what was the rush?

“And I can’t believe you’re still friends with him? Aren’t you angry at what he’s done to us, to Marinette?” Chloé remarked. The blue-haired girls gave her a stare while Rosina tried to steal a macaroon from Marinette’s plate.

She was caught.

“I had been friends with Adrien long before Marinette, just because I’ve changed my target doesn’t mean I still don’t care for him. Besides, I don’t exactly want to leave him alone with a Father like his” They all, minus the redhead, shivered.

“Ok, that might be understandable, I may not like him but even I wouldn’t wish anyone that kind of life” It didn’t matter which of the girls said it, they both thought it.

“Who?”

“Oh right, you’ve never had the pleasure of knowing Gabriel Agreste”

“Who?”

“He’s Adrien’s Dad and a famous fashion designer. He never lets him out of the house except for school, photoshoots and fencing lessons. He doesn’t even allow his friends to come over and visit” Chloé listed everything she could remember about that man and paused to see Rosina take an excruciating long slip of her drink before setting it down.

“Wh-”

“If you say who again I will take your sweets!” Marinette was annoyed at her repetitive singular question before she sent a sheepish smile her way.

“Duly noted”

“He’s all alone in that house, I don’t want to him to be alone outside” Rosina’s eyes sparkled with glee.

“Wow, you’re so nice Kagami. And I don’t think its that bad, he hasn’t exactly done anything to you, I mean I know we’re all friends, but I guess we can’t force someone to stop their friendship with someone else right? I mean I don’t really know but I-”

“We get it, Rosina, you can stop you’re rambling it's getting annoying”

“Chloé!” Marinette had a long way to go before Chloé would be deemed ‘nice’

“Its fine Mari, sometimes I tend to keep talking until someone stops me or Aunty hits me on the head” She laughed to try and ease the tension, but it didn’t appear to work.

She was about to say something else, maybe they could plan to do something over the weekend, or maybe finally have a sleepover, she’s always wanted to do one of them.

But they heard the door open, and since Rosina and Kagami weren’t facing the door they were puzzled as to why they were stunned.

“Rosina Scoats” At her name being called out she immediately turned around. She saw a woman with blue hair with a slight twinge of red with glasses in a suit standing behind her, and she was holding something.

A tablet with a man who held a stern face, it almost made Rosina become nervous.

But she didn’t know what that word meant.

“Yes? That’s me, how can I help you?” She chirpily asked, she felt a kick to her leg but her smile never faltered.

“I would like to propose an idea, I would like to discuss it further at the Agreste household, if we may?” They both awaited her answer.

She didn’t think she’d meet the man they were just talking about so soon.

***

That’s it, are you happy with it? I thought it would be good to get Gabriel and Nathalie in there, is there anything else you want me to add? Or any outfits you want me to draw. I might draw her in her fencing gear if you want, but I’m not sure how to change it so it feels a bit unique? I have a few ideas, but feel free to suggest anything, I’m always free to ideas.

Why do you think Gabriel wants to talk to her?

Let’s hope it's not anything bad.

Are there any prompts you want me to write with or without Rosina? Please let me know.

Hope you like it and have a nice Day/Night.

*Dupont Seating Plan ~ I always had beef with this because my desks at school were tiny so only 2 people could sit there, but on this show, it makes me think they can only have two students there because of course there's no room. Our school would’ve made 4 people sit there at least.

**Blood Types ~ All the sources keep telling me different things, but I think she has either A or B.

***D’Argencourt ~ Might need some help writing him in character, very unsure about him.

239 notes · View notes

tenroseforeverandever · 4 years ago

Text

Double Blind

Characters: Rose Tyler; Tenth Doctor; Reinette; Adam Mitchell

Tags: AU - human; blind date; fluff; romance; humour

Summary: Rose Tyler has been set up on a blind date with a bloke she’s having a lot of misgivings about, but when he arrives, she finds he isn’t anything like she expected him to be.

Notes: This was written as part of a Classic Trope challenge on the Doctor x Rose Discord group. I got “Blind Date”. The story was actually inspired by one of the cute little stories on my French course on DuoLingo! To my brilliant beta team, @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci, my undying gratitude, as always. You got me on the right track more than a few times, and with the amazing @aintfraidanoghosts, you helped me plan out the rough patches. My love to you all!