#She news on my paper till I headline

[undercooked-icicle]

I've decided to start reading the newspaper.

When does OJ show up??

[20moonchild21]

๛Starting our Future

Gif by @jeojungguk

Pairing: poly!BTS x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: hardcore fluff at the end, baby talk

Words: 2000+

ッ

๛匕he one where everything changes∙ꨄ

ㄚou sighed heavily, as you scrolled through all the new feed on your Instagram channel. Since you and the boys had the talk, it seemed like everyone around you wanted to provoke you by getting a baby first.

First, the boys' stylist and your close friend, Jina, announced that she and her husband would expect baby within the next weeks. Then your co-worker, Jisoo, found out three months ago, that she was pregnant with a small baby boy and lastly, your cousin dropped the baby-bomb 6 weeks ago.

Of course, you were more happy for all of them, but somehow it made you sad at the same time, that all these people were about to start a family by their own, a wish you had for a long time. So four weeks ago, you had decided to start to bring up the baby-topic to your 7 boyfriends.

They were surely speechless in the first moment. Of course, it hadn't been the first time the eighth of you talked about your future plans, but this time they knew it was serious to you. You were more passionated when you told them about your friends having babies, or how your eyes would tear up when you talked about how you wanted to take care of a baby of your own.

That was until your heard the sentence you hoped so badly to not hear: "We are on the peak of our careers"

Boom.

Like someone rammed his fist into your stomach.

You didn't show them how much this sentence hurt you. Instead, you smile and told them that it was fine, and that you could understand the dilemma they were in, which you indeed understood.

You knew how much the boys loved going on stage, performing in front of people and just enjoying their free life. So, you found yourself accepting the fact, the you would not carry your own baby within the next 5 years.

Why 5 years, you're probably asking yourself right now? Well, today was the day the boys would sign their contract to continue BTS for another 5 years.

5 years of concerts and world tours. 5 years of them staying up till late at night to work on new music. 5 year of them being not able to take care of a helpless baby.

Boom.

Like someone punched you into the stomach, again.

And harder.

It hurt, but you couldn't be mad at them. They had honestly told you their concerns and worries, and you had to respect this. After all, you couldn't force them to make you a baby, and after all, you didn't want to be the one, who had a baby and was sitting home alone, because you husbands were touring all over the world. And lastly, you didn't want to be the one who destroyed their dreams.

So you decide to wait for them to be ready, don't matter how long it would take, and even though you know it would be hard.

You sighed again while you turned off you phone, before throwing it onto the couch. A look at the clock told you, that you husbands of 2 years would be home every minute. You thought about cooking something special for the to celebrate their contract extension, but the you guessed that they would already had ordered a table at your favourite restaurant.

Mentally, you already strolled through the restaurant's menu, when you heard the familiar clicking of the front door, followed by friendly and joking voices.

Unwillingly, a smile came up you face. You had been together for more than five years now, and had been married for almost two years, but every time they walked into the room, it was like you saw them for the first time again. Their auras lighted up the room, and every time you ask yourself how you deserve to be their girl.

Jimin was the first one to spot you standing at the kitchen counter. The corners of his mouth rase up immediately, and his eyes formed the two beautiful half moons you madly fell in love with.

"Aaeeiinn (Honey)!" He called out before he closed the distance between the two of you, by wrapping his arms around your way smaller body and spinning you around.

You giggled and laughed wildly, as he sat your feet back down on the floor and covered your face in small kisses.  You weakly tried to pull away from him, even though the both of you knew that you enjoyed this kind of affection.

"Jimin, let go of her." You heard Jungkook's soft voice beside you. "I want to kiss her, too."

He kept nudging and pulling onto the fabric of your (Namjoon's) shirt, until Jimin finally let go of your waist. The taller boy slide his hands up onto your body, and placed them under your armpits to lift you up. Loosing the footing, your wrapped your legs around Jungkook's slim waist, and wrapped your arms around his neck.

„Hello, na sarang (my love)." He whispered as he nudged his nose against yours, giving you an Eskimo kiss. "I missed you today."

"I missed you too, Kookie." You whispered against his soft lips, before pressing your own lips onto his.

One by one, the boys entered the kitchen, giving you sweet kisses, hugs or lifts as their very own way of saying 'hello' and 'I missed you', but you loved everything about it.

While Jungkook would always lift you up into his arms, Namjoon was always the one to pull you closer to his chest and bending down towards you height, to kiss you with his soft lips, and Yoongi would be the one to cup your face in his larger hands to kiss you, while his thumbs would stroke your cheeks.

But somehow, something was odd about their kisses today. They were more...passionated and somehow too intensive for just saying 'hello'.

Those kind off kisses, you usually share when you are in bed together, or when you haven't seen each other in a very long time. You thought about it for a second, but then decided to not complain about it.

That was until you pulled away from Taehyung's lips, and saw all the other 6 boys looking at you with loving and smirking eyes.

"Heeeyy!" You called out when Tae suddenly sat you onto the counter top. You looked at all of them suspiciously. "What is going on with you, guys? Did you break something? Oh no....you did break something, don't you? What is...."

"Shhhh." You were stopped in you mid-sentence when Hobi stepped forward and put a finger to your lips. "Just listen to what we are going to tell you."

Your left eyebrow cocked up when Jin took both of your hands up to his hands and pressing a kiss onto them. He the turned around and grabbed something from Yoongi's hands, before pushing it into yours.

"What is this?" You asked confused as you looked at the pile of paper in your hands, that Jin had gestured you to read.

You shoved the numerus sheets of papers around your hands, trying to get what was written onto them. The first thing you read was the headline:

"Contract for the extension of 'Bangtan Sonyeondan' (2021-2026), under the leadership of BigHit Entertainment"

"Look at the last page." Jimin gestured for you, as you flick through the pages.

You felt your heart skip a beat, when you took a closer look at the last side of the contract, where you saw 10 lines, each one with a name under it.

The first 2 lines were signed by the two highest leader of the company, the third one was signed by the boys' manager, Sejin, and the last 7 lines were...not signed, but crossed?

It took you a while to understand what finally understand what that meant. You mouth hung open slightly, as you looked at your seven boyfriends in front of you.

"Why didn't you sign the contract?" You gasped shocked, while you looked again at the sheet of paper to make sure you weren't tricked by your brain. "Oh my god, you quit BTS? Why would you do this? Why did you...why? I don't understand. And why are you grinning like this?"

You mind was racing with questions. The boys just quit their future, their passion, and they were just smiling about it. You didn't know what was going on with them, because the boys who left the apartment this morning would have done anything to keep BTS together as long as possible.

"You are right, yeobo (darling)." Namjoon laid a hand on your knees as he looked into your eyes. "There will be no BTS anymore, and that's okay, because we want it like this."

"But why?" You whispered, laying your hand on top of his.

"The boys and I – " He pointed at the rest of your husbands, who had sat down around the kitchen counter. "We had many talks over the last few weeks. About you, and us, and our future and everything that includes our lives, together."

He emphasised the last word, as he winked his eyebrows at you.

"We just thought about what you said about us starting a family and finally settling

down – " You eyes lighted up as you realized what he was talking about. "We just – we were a little bit overwhelmed when you suddenly came up with you wanting to try for a baby, that we just rejected you. But we talked about this after our conversation and we – fuck – we want this too, jagi (darling)."

"But you love BTS." You whispered again, as a tear slide down your cheek, dripping onto your shirt.

"But we love you more." This time, it was Jin to talk. He stood up from the barstool he was sitting on, and made his way over to you. He then lifted his hand and whipped the streaming tear off of you cheeks. "We love what we're doing with BTS, but every story has to end at some point. We feel like it is the time right now to start a new chapter of our life, just the eighth of us."

He leaned down and pressed his lips onto your wet and salty lips. You were so overwhelmed in this moment, that all kind of emotions rushed through your body.

On the one hand, you wanted to be mad at them for giving up there careers for you and your outbursts of emotions, but on the other hand you just wanted to ripped their clothes off of their bodies and drag them to bed with you.

"Are you crazy?!" You suddenly spoke loudly at them (mostly at Jin because he stood in front of you), as you push Jin away from you. Somehow, you felt mad right now, so you began to slightly hit his chest with each following word. "You. Just. Quit. Your. Future. You. Idiots!"

When you stopped, you grabbed Jin by the collar of his shirt to pull him down until your lips smacked against each other.

"You are crazy." You whispered again as you leaned your forehead against his. "You idiots, I love you so much."

Big hands made their way over your hips from the side, when you suddenly were pulled away from the dark haired boy in front of you. You easily slide over the edge of the marbled counter top until the next boy stood between your legs.

"We love you more." Yoongi whispered as he captured your lips with his.

You were so caught up in the kiss, that you forgot the other boys around you.

"Jaaaagggiiii!" You heard Jimin and Jungkook whining beside you. "You wanted a baby! Let's make one. Now."

The maknae line was already pulling and grabbing the oversized shirt you were wearing, wanting to shove it over your head. You grew more and more impatient, as all the hands were roaming over your body, teasing all the right parts.

You disconnected your lips from Yoongi's and pushed him back slightly, before jumping off of the counter. You grabbed Taehyung by the hand and began to drag him behind you, as you made your way over to the bedroom, followed by the other boys.

You and your husbands spend the next weeks at home, making love whenever there was a free minute to bridge.

And well, what should you say, 12 months later, you held your firstborn baby-girl in your arms.

———————————————————————

So this is my first poly!BTS story. I think it is quite cute.

Let me know when you like it.

But don’t worry, BTS will still be existing until 2026, so we have still 5 years left to drool over them!

By the way: If you like The Maze Runner, you can visit my Wattpad account (20__moonchild__20). I am working on a story.

Stay healthy and safe!

Mꨄ

[originalhybridloverfics]

When We Collide - A Secret Love

Summary: Esra and Ozan have secretly gotten back together and are sneaking around to keep their love a secret.

A/N: Over the last week, my uncle passed away. And then I found out my cousin who came down for the funeral passed away. My uncle was in his sixties but my cousin was only 34, he was perfectly healthy. My family is having a hard time with it all. I will be taking time away to be with them. I won't be able to devote my time and headspace to write for a bit and I don't want my writing to suffer because of it. Never take family for granted, death happens unexpectedly. For now, I will be helping my cousin's wife in her time of need, my cousin had four young children and she could use the help during this difficult time. This will be the last update until I am ready to get back to writing until then I will be on hiatus.

This chapter has Smut. If that's not something you want to read I advise you to skip it.

I am behind on the show, so if this doesn't match up with canon consider it a canon divergence. This was a requested prompt.

Esra looked up as a figure appeared in the doorway in the reflection of the mirror as she applied her makeup.

She smiled at Ozan. “I was getting ready to head into the office. I made breakfast. It’s on the table.”

Ozan walked up and wrap his arms around her, kissing her neck. “Then stay and eat breakfast with me. I can drive us to work.”

“No, it’s important we keep our relationship secret.” Esra turned in his arm, sweeping a hand through bed hair.

Ozan leaned into her touch. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be able to shout about you from the rooftops.”

“You still can, just not about how much you love me,” Esra pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Ozan cupped her face and captured her mouth in a deep kiss. “I’ll have to settle for showing you then,” he murmured when he pulled away, his thumb swiping across her bottom lip.

A spark of desire shot straight to her core and she cursed that they had to go into work, she would much rather enjoy having him worship every inch of her body as his actions and words promised.

“It will have to wait,” she gave him a push, “go eat your breakfast, I have to go,” she slipped past him, walking into the living room.

She grabbed her jacket, slipping it on, pairing it with the red sundress she wore, grabbing her phone she slipped it into her bag.

Her hand reached for the doorknob just as Ozan’s hand circled her waist, spinning her back around into his chest, his mouth captured hers in a heated kiss that left her wanting more.

Esra smiled giving him another quick peck, ignoring the desire for more. “I’ll see you at the office.”

Ozan reluctantly let her go. He waited till the door shut behind her, before turning back to go take a shower.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Ozan looked at Esra across the table. There was a meeting on a new project and Esra along with the other interns and assistants were taking notes about everything that needed to be done.

Ozan was finding it hard to concentrate, he had to keep forcing himself to look away. Certain he was going to get caught staring at Esra like a lovesick fool.

Esra loved that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Since they got back together it felt like they were in the honeymoon phase and she was enjoying every second of it. Not to mention there was something sexy about keeping their love a secret and sneaking around the company. The thrill of getting caught just made it that much more enjoyable.

Ozan picked up his phone and moved his hand beneath the table and discreetly sent out a text.

Esra jumped in surprise when her phone chimed and laughed it off, reaching for her phone she saw the text notification. She looked up and met Ozan’s heated gaze.

She looked back down and opened the text.

Meet me in my office, ten minutes after the meeting. You will be occupied for the next hour.

Esra bit her lip, wondering just what he was planning. They were at work so surely he wasn’t implying something salacious. And what could possibly take an hour? Occupied how? Was she running errands for him, taking notes?

When the meeting finally came to an end Esra was relieved, the curiosity of what Ozan wanted was driving her crazy.

The interns filed out first and she couldn’t help but trail her hand across his shoulder as she passed. She chances a look back at him when she passed through the door to find him watching her.

Ozan waited till everyone filed out before standing and heading for his office.

He took off his jacket tossing it over his chair and unbuttoned the few buttons of his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch, desire flared through him. It had been impossible to concentrate during the meeting with Esra across from him. All he could think about was her lips parted in pleasure as he spread her open with his cock, feel her breast in the palm of his hand, hear her begging for him.

There was something so fucking hot about Esra, who begged for nothing, beg for him. He needed it like, he needed air, knowing she needed him was a feeling he would never get enough of.

He settled down in his chair, fearing he was going to pace a hole in the floor out of sheer impatience.

When it passed the fifteen-minute mark, he was moments away from calling her when there was a knock at his door, he stood from his chair just as Esra stepped inside.

“You’re late.” He strode up to her, trapping her against the closed door.

“By five minutes,” Esra protested, hands coming up to grip his arms as he caged her in, heat radiating off him.

“Five minutes was too long,” he placed his hand over her collarbone. “I was second’s away from finding you and bringing you here myself.”

“Everyone would know about us,” Esra pointed out, as his hand skimmed up her throat to cup her cheek, his hand hot upon her skin, warming her from the inside out.

“I can’t bring myself to care right now,” His mouth crashed down onto hers, hot and full of passion stealing the breath from her.

Esra surrendered to the lust coursing through her body, lips parting to allow his tongue to slide against hers.

His free hand moved down her body, gripping her thigh, bunching up the fabric of her dress, he pressed his body against her, and Esra jolted at the feel of him, hard, straining through his slacks pressed against her.

Esra ripped her mouth from his and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Did you invite me here to have sex in your office?”

“I wanted you to come here because I can’t focus on anything but you. How can anyone expect me to be able to work with you across from me?” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “All I can think about is the fill of your lips, your scent, the feel of your soft skin, your perfect curves,” his voice lowered, eyes dark with desire. “All I can imagine is pleasure in your eyes, moans escaping your parted lips as I move inside you, your legs tight around me, squeezing, your voice hoarse from screaming my name.”

“Ozan,” She felt choked, her core throbbing with need with every word he spoke.

When did he get so fucking good with words?

“We can’t.” she protested with a shake of her head.

“We can,” Ozan slipped his hand beneath her dress and Esra gasped as his palm pressed against her. “The doors locked.”

Esra knew she should protest, stop him but god she couldn’t, she longed for his touch. Instead, she tangled her hand into the back of his hair and pulled him down to kiss him deeply.

Ozan smirked and slipped his hand beneath her dress rubbing his thumb against her clit oVer the fabric of her underwear, Esra moan into his mouth, her hips moving searching for more.

The hand cupping her jaw traveled down to her breast holding it in his palm, squeezing.

A knock sounded on the door, followed by the doorknob jiggling. “Ozan?” Cagla’s voice called out.

Esra froze staring up at him, caught. “What do we do?” she mouthed.

Ozan pressed his finger against his lips asking her to be quiet, he leaned down brushing his mouth against her ear. “Go sit down and look like you’re taking notes.”

Esra quickly brushed past him, her skin heated, and took a seat, she ran a hand through her hair and grabbed the notepad from the table and a pen.

“Ozan? Are you in there?” Cagla called again, the door pulled with more force as she obviously tried harder to open it.

Ozan quickly removed his jacket and tossed it onto his chair, he walked to the door and turned the lock and swung it open, and put on his smile. “Sorry about that, Cagla. The door has been jamming since yesterday.” he looked back at Esra. “Be sure to have someone look at it, will you?”

“Of course, Ozan Bey,” Esra answered, relieved that Cagla seemed to be buying his lie if the look on her face was anything to go by. It was that or she really was just blinded by her attraction for Ozan.

Not that Esra could blame her. She felt the needed to fan herself but it would be too obvious.

“Write it down,” Ozan ordered, nodding to her paper and pen. “That’s why you’re here.”

Esra felt a wave of annoyance at his tone but pushed it down, knowing he was only trying to keep their secret from getting out. She made a show of writing it down.

Cagla stepped into the office, frowning at Esra. “Esra, are you feeling okay?”

Esra’s head shot up. “Yes, why?”

“You’re just looking a little flushed,” Cagla observed. “Perhaps you’re starting to come down with something.”

“I feel fine,” Esra assured her.

“Okay, but if that changes, it’s okay to leave early,” Cagla responded before focusing back on Ozan. “I wanted to remind you about that interview in an hour with the magazine for expanding companies. If everything goes well you will be headlining it. This can be a huge step forward for us.”

“Don’t worry,” Ozan assured her, gently moving back to the door. “I will be nothing but brilliant.”

“Ozan, do you want to grab lunch?” Cagla asked as she stepped just out of his office.

“I have plans, unfortunately. Another time, maybe?” she asked.

“Of course,” he waited till she walked away before shutting the door and locking it.

Esra stood and watched him round his desk. “You have plans for lunch? Why didn’t you tell me? I was planning on making us something.”

“You won’t be making us anything.” he grabbed his laptop and tossed it into his chair. “You will be too occupied.”

“Occupied?” Esra repeated confused. “With what?”

Ozan wrapped his arm around her and picked her up, depositing her on his desk, he pulled her to the edge and captured her mouth in a heated kiss.

Esra fisted her hands in his shirt, surrendering to his lips dominating hers, his hand slid down her body, slipping beneath her dress and with one sharp tug he had torn her panties.

She gasped, white-hot lust flowing through her, her core throbbed almost painfully.

Her mouth fell open as his fingers found her wetness, his thumb rubbing her clit.

The phone started ringing and her eyes widened. She expected him to stop what he was doing but he didn’t.

Ozan slipped a Bluetooth device into his ear, connecting it before answering the call.

“Ozan!” Esra exclaimed.

Ozan put a finger to his lips, telling her to be silent, and then spoke into the Bluetooth but his words were drowned out as he sunk a finger inside her.

Esra’s mouth fell open from the sudden intrusion, a loud gasp filling the air. She couldn’t believe what he was doing to her when he was clearly in the middle of his conference call.

Had he lost his mind?!

As he slid a second finger deep inside her she was sure that he definitely lost his mind.

Her mouth open on a silent cry and she stared at him wide-eyed, her skin flushed and breaths coming in quick pants.

Ozan smirked down at her, never once did he stop speaking into the phone, his voice clear and focused. As precise as his thrusting fingers inside of her.

Her moans started out small and breathless as his fingers thrust shallowly but then he started moving them faster and deeper. She couldn’t stop the cry that tore from her mouth when he inserted a third finger deep inside her.

Ozan moved between her legs opening her up wider and found her breast, squeezing.

“Sorry about that, my assistant has the terrible habit of tripping. She’s fine.” Ozan spoke into the Bluetooth.

Esra’s face flushed in embarrassment, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her sounds of pleasure.

Esra felt her pleasure rise higher and higher, her hips lifting to meet his thrust, the coil inside her tightened further and further.

She was so close to the edge she could taste it, when suddenly he ended his call and tossed the BlueTooth away, and removed his fingers from her sex.

Esra let out a whimper, eyes shining in frustration. “Ozan!”

“Shh,” he grasps her by the hips and brought her to the edge of the desk, he nudges her legs open wider, stepping between them as he gathered her in his arms.

Esra surrendered to his kiss and grabbed onto him, needing something to hold onto as the desperation for more rage through her body.

Ozan slid the zipper of her dress down then pushed the straps down her arm, his hand found her bra-covered breast and she jolted feeling his hand reach inside the cup, rubbing her nipple between his finger and thumb.

His other hand unclasped her bra and pushed the straps down her arms until they dangled at her elbows, freeing her breast.

When he pulled his mouth from hers it was to trail his lips over the shell of her ear, his hot breath coasting against her neck.

She shivered, goosebumps rising on her heated flesh.

“As I was saying earlier you are going to be occupied for lunch,”

His words fanned across her skin and she was confused. “Lunch?” she repeated.

Ozan chuckled. “Have you forgotten our discussion of lunch plans?”

Esra flushed in embarrassment because yes she had but can anyone really blame her? how could anyone focus when he was doing the things he was to her body?

“What will have me occupied during lunch? It can’t be this.” Esra panted, her breaths coming quickly. “I mean, if we’re doing this now, we wouldn’t for lunch.”

“We will be doing exactly this,” Ozan whispered, as he used one hand to unfastened his pants pulling the zipper down. “Except, you won’t have to be quiet. When we do this again, I want to hear every sound you make, every cry, moan, and breath.” He pushed his pants and boxers down, taking a hold of his cock he aligned it with her soaking entrance. “I want to hear you scream my name,”

Esra shifted her hips feeling the head of his cock. “Ozan, please.”

Ozan smirked. “For now, you must be quiet. Others can’t know what we’re doing. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes. Yes, please just get inside me already.” Esra all but snapped the desperation to feel him filling her overcoming all rationality.

Ozan locked eyes with her and surged forward, his cock, pushing inside. Esra’s mouth fell open on a cry, Ozan quickly captured her mouth, swallowing her sounds.

He didn’t give her time to adjust as he started a frenzied pace that had her clawing at his back, arching her body up, her hips moving against his.

With every thrust he sunk deeper and deeper inside her, she squeezed around him tightly like a vice.

Ozan grunted as he fucked into her, one hand on her breast, rubbing her nipple between his fingers his other hand reached between them to rub at her clit, never once ceasing the movement of his hips.

Esra felt every slide of him inside of her perfectly, combined with his hand on her breast and rubbing her, the orgasm she chased earlier came back and hit her with an intensity that had her seeing spots behind her closed lids.

She fell over the edge as his cock rubbed against the spot inside her that had her withering in pleasure.

A scream would have torn from her throat if Ozan hadn’t been sucking on her tongue.

Ozan groaned as she convulsed around him, he pulled his mouth from hers and stared down at her as she came around him.

Esra bit down on her lip as he fucked her through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

She was always so sensitive after and orgasm, she could feel another orgasm building. She tried to keep quiet but it was near impossible.

Ozan felt himself grow closer and closer to the edge, wrapping his arms around her, he yanked, her into a sitting position, her chest flushed against him, he buried his face in her neck as he pounded into her, again and again.

Esra tugged his shirt out of the way and bit down on his shoulder silencing her cries.

The sting of pain from her bite and the pleasure from her squeezing around his length sent him over the edge and he came with one last thrust, burying his cock inside her as deep as he could.

His arms wrapped tightly around her and he placed kisses against her skin. “I love you,”

Esra pilled back and cupped his face in her hands, she leaned forward, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

She didn’t say the words but Ozan felt it in her kiss, in her touch.

“We should cut out early,” She murmured, trailing a kiss over his neck, her teeth grazing the vein in his neck.

Ozan groaned. “I want to but we can’t. Not today.”

Reluctantly he pulled out of her and used a kleenex to first clean up, Esra and then another for himself and tucked himself back in his pants.

Esra watched as he slowly fixed her bra and pulled her dress back in place, zipping up her dress, his lips finding her shoulder as he did so.

Her hand easily slid into his hair and tugged him back to her mouth, kissing him with all the love she had inside of her.

Ozan’s hand cupped the back of her neck, his lips dancing with hers.

Esra pulled back, her palm flat against his cheek. “Tomorrow then,”

“No, not just tomorrow. We’ll take the week.”

Esra’s eyes shined with hope. “A week?”

“Yes, we can go on that honeymoon I never gave you. Wherever you want. I don’t care as long as we are together.”

Esra smiled her hands trailing over his shoulders to rest over his heart. “Sounds perfect.” She leaned in pressing a tender kiss to his lips just as another knock sounded on the door.

She pushed him back and made sure her clothes were in order, running a hand through her hair. She grabbed her jacket and notepad and walked to the door. “I’ll see you for lunch.”

“Yes, you will,” Ozan promised, fastening his pants and straightening up his desk as Esra opened the door.

Musa stood on the other side and he looked between him and Esra his smile wide.

Esra breezed past him without a word, Musa stepped into the room the door shutting behind him.

“Is there something you have forgotten to tell me?” Musa’s grin only widened, his eyes shining with excitement for his friend. “Just when did you reunite with my daughter-in-law?”

Ozan laughed and smiled brightly. While he and Esra were keeping their relationship secret, he saw no reason to keep it from Musa.

“We’re happy,” he said simply.

It was all that needed to be said.

Anything else should remain between him and Esra. A secret love between them until she was ready to share their happiness with the world.

Only then would he scream it from the rooftops that he was unbelievably happy with the love of his life.

[fireladybuckley]

I’ve been attempting to work on writing shorter fics, as nearly everything I touch seems to end up being WAY longer than I want it to.  Not that that’s a bad thing, but writing shorter fics that are still compelling is a skill I’m very much attempting to hone.

So, without further ado... here’s a Buddie “Meet Cute”.  I may do a series of these, if my motivation keeps up. <3

Grocery Store Blunder

Buck raised an eyebrow as he glanced over the magazines beside the till he was waiting in line at, rolling his eyes at the latest over-sensationalized headlines.  As the person in front of him moved away, he set down his few items and greeted the cashier, who cheerfully asked him if he’d found everything he needed.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Buck told her with a small smile, moving towards the payment area as she rang through his items.  His eyes wandered to the customer who had just joined the line behind him and eyed him curiously;  a very attractive guy pushing a cart that contained what looked like groceries for the week, a young boy sitting in the top part of the cart and chatting loudly at him.  Buck smiled at the image of father and son, though his eyes lingered on the dad;  he was definitely good looking… so good looking that the cashier had to call to him twice before he realized he was staring.

“Oh!  Sorry,” Buck said hurriedly, feeling his cheeks warming as the cashier glanced between him and the man behind him, who was now loading his stuff up on the belt and seemed none the wiser to Buck’s attention.

“That’s okay, sir.  Your total is $11.73, will that be cash or card?”

“Card,” Buck said automatically, reaching for his wallet.  His heart dropped as he slipped his hand into his back pocket and found it empty.  Tapped his other back pocket, his side pants pockets, his coat pockets.  All empty, except for his keys and phone.   

“Oh dammit,” Buck muttered, reaching into his front right pocket, searching for cash.  Luckily there was a bill in there and a few coins, but all told he only had $10.25 on him.

“I must have forgotten my wallet.  Okay, let me see what I should put back,” Buck said, and he was so flustered he had to stare at the cashier’s screen to remember what he had even been trying to buy.   He was about to tell her to take off two of his three oranges when the man behind him suddenly spoke up.

“How much do you need?  I can get it for you,”  he offered in a friendly voice.  Buck felt himself flush even more as he looked over and met the man’s eyes, embarrassed but also flattered that he wanted to help.

“Oh, no, it’s okay, I can put back -” he began, but the man shook his head.

“Really, it’s no problem. I have a whole load of groceries, a couple of dollars isn’t going to make a difference.”

“He needs $1.48,” the cashier told the other man, who nodded and reached into his pocket, fishing out two $1 bills.

“Are you sure?” Buck asked, still feeling embarrassed as the man handed over the money and the cashier rang it in. 

“Yeah, no problem,” he said, smiling. 

“Well thank you, so much,” Buck said, beyond grateful as the cashier handed him the paper bag containing his items and his receipt, then began to ring up the man’s things.  Buck hovered awkwardly on the spot, not picking up his bag, wanting to say more but not sure what.  The young boy turned in his seat, watching him curiously, and Buck smiled at him.

“Look, let me get your number.  I want to pay you back,” Buck said, surprising even himself as the words came out of his mouth unwittingly, shifting his attention to the man.  The man’s eyebrows raised in faint surprise, his movement stilling for a moment, a box of kids’ applesauce pouches halfway to the till belt as he thought about it.

“Really man, it’s not a big deal, you don’t have to pay me back less than two dollars.”

“I insist,” Buck said stubbornly, ignoring the cashier who was smiling to herself as she glanced silently between the two of them.  Buck knew he was being a bit too forward for a simple kind gesture, and he hoped the other man would catch his drift.  The man squinted at him for a moment and then a small smile twitched at his lips as he set down the box he was holding, and he shrugged lightly.

“Alright, if it means that much to you,” he said, and as Buck pulled up the “new contact” menu on his phone, he rattled off his phone number.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” the man said.  “And this is Christopher.”

“Hello!” said the boy, still staring curiously at him.

“Hi!” Buck smiled at Christopher.  “I’m Buck.”  He repeated Eddie’s number back to him to make sure he had it right, receiving a nod in response.

“Okay, well, I will… text you later.  I can send you an e-transfer or something,” Buck said, feeling distinctly awkward now that the conversation seemed to have reached its natural end, aware that the cashier had finished scanning and bagging all of Eddie’s things and was waiting patiently to wrap up the transaction. 

“I look forward to it,” Eddie said, his voice warm.  Buck shot him a nervous smile, waved at Christopher, and turned to walk away.

“Sir!  Your bag!” the cashier called to him, and Buck spun around, grabbing the bag off the counter and hurrying away without looking at any of them, his ears turning pink.  He was pretty sure he could hear both Eddie and the cashier chuckling a little behind him and grinned in a painful way at his own idiocy as he exited the store.  As embarrassing as it was to have forgotten his wallet, Buck couldn’t help but wonder if fate hadn’t nudged the two of them together as he mentally planned what he was going to text Eddie, feeling his stomach flutter with excited nerves.

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

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[piscesparker]

Betraying the bond

Masterlist | Taglist

Part 1

"Rise and shine, your highness!" My maid, Amber, chirped as she drew the curtains open letting the sunlight come in. I groaned and rolled to the other side, shielding my eyes from the bright light and bringing the quilt closer to my chest. I had hoped that since my classes were canceled I might have some more hours to rest but that clearly was not happening. "I hope you're excited for today." She continued. In all honesty I had no intention whatsoever to be part of welcoming the royal family for Redmont, I just wished I could stay up in my room without anyone to disturb me or tell me what lessons I have to attend every hour or so.

"Yeah, a bit." I said, removing the covers off me and slipping out of my comfortable bed.

"I really can't believe that soon the war might come to an end." Amber really was the kind of person that would talk your ears off but I, on the other hand loved listening and talking about everything that does not pertain to me running a country in the future. "And I am so excited for this new chapter in your life!" She exclaimed as I rubbed my eye, finally waking up.

"So how is he?" Her eyes glistened with hope.

"How is who?"

"Your future husband! Who else?"

My future what?

"Amber what are you talking about?" I chuckled nervously, she brought me my breakfast tray along with a newspaper sitting beside my plate of buttered toast and chamomile tea. I look at her excited face skeptically as it took the news paper and saw a collage photo of me and prince Harrison and read the headline which couldn't be missed.

The Kingdoms of Northollow and Redmont will not only be uniting in land, but also will be uniting in the form of marriage for Princess Y/n and Prince Harrison.

My eyes widened with shock. Marriage? How could dad keep this away from me? He knew how much I despised the thought of being married early and yet went on to give my hand in marriage without even asking me? Leaving my breakfast, I stormed to dad's office. At this moment I did not care that I was running around the castle bare foot and in my nightgown, I had to talk to him before he ruins my life. I was too furious to think of knocking, barging in, I slammed the paper on his desk, "Were you going to tell me you were getting me married or did I have to wait till I gave birth to your first grand child?"

He looked at me and then around the room, trying to tell me that he had visitors. "Please excuse us." He said. "Well?" I asked impatiently, hands on my hips.

"Honey I had no choice." His eyes softened, I sat down and sighed, taking in everything. "I did it for the kingdom, and I know I should have asked you but I know you would have said no."

"Of course I would!" I raised my voice and cut him off, banging my fist on the desk.

"Y/n, I know you're upset," I scoffed, upset would be an understatement, "but this is soon going to be your life, you will have to make decisions that you won't favor but it will be in the betterment of your people." He explained. It was true, the role of being a leader is always sacrificing yourself for others; I couldn't argue, as much as I wanted to I couldn't. I knew what dad was saying was right, I've been training for this. Maybe it was the suddenness that enraged me this early in the morning. Most kids get surprise gifts whereas I get surprise a marriage to someone I don't even know.

"Okay," I took a deep breath, "I will agree only on one condition." His eyes lightened up. "Since I don't know him that well, I wish to take my time to get to know him, if he is not a snob then and only then might I agree to this arrangement." Dad took some time to think about it but he agreed.

"Okay, well now I'm going to get dressed now." You gave a tight lipped smile.

"Good, because I don't want to him to see you in your night gown this early on." Dad winked.

"Dad!" I whined and went back to my room to continue my day with dread.

As I entered my room again I saw Amber cleaning up my room, she whipped her head and her eyes met my disappointed ones, "Is everything alright your highness?"

"Well yes and no." She furrowed her brows and turned her attention to me. "Apparently your king was going to get me married, without actually telling me." She let out a soft 'oh', "But don't worry, I handled it." I winked her way plopping on my bed and taking a bite of my toast. "What would you like to wear to day your highness?" Amber brought out two gowns in front of me; a silky navy blue a-line gown and a teal blue knee-length dress. "The teal blue one please."

After getting dressed, Amber helped me with my hair, putting it in a neat bun as the pins poked in my skull and light make up, nothing too heavy. Looking at the clock I saw that I had some time before the guests could arrive so I decided to take a walk with Spencer and try to clear my mind. Walking past the horses in the stable, a particular white one caught my eye and made me grin, opening the door I smile and ruffle his well-kept hair and pulling him out before putting on the reins.

Spencer wasn't only my pet he was also my friend, the only one whom I could talk my heart to and I felt like he actually heard me, it felt nice. "You know Spence, I don't think I'll ever be able to like him. What if he's a snob or worse," I paused and shuddered, "hates horses." He cried, as if he was saying that I wouldn't allow it; I smiled, "You're right, I am overthinking it."

After a refreshing walk with Spencer I entered to the hustling and bustling of servants in the castle. "Oh, there you are!" Mom called out.

"Hey mom."

"I heard what happened." She held my hand and gave a small squeeze reassuring me.  

"Did you know?" She stayed silent for longer than I expected and then nodded; I sighed.

"Did everyone beside me know that I was getting married?"

"I really am sorry, the circumstances were such, we couldn't help it." She gave an apologetic smile, and went back to her work of making sure everything was ready for the royal family's arrival. The royal family of Redmont was  very special because they were more progressed than us since it was already being ruled by their queen, her majesty Phil. I always admired her integrity and will power to actually rule a kingdom and being beloved by her people; I was more excited to meet her than her son.

My family and I stood at the doors of the castle as the fanfare blew signalling their arrival. The red and gold carriage came to a stop and her majesty made the most grand yet modest entrance, followed by her youngest, Princess Charlotte and then stepped out my nightmare. He wore a white ruffle shirt with a royal blue jacket which had a few army medals pinned to the left with ridiculously tight pants. Why was I looking at his pants? As the walked up the stairs his blonde hair bounced with every step and then his piercing ocean blue eyes met mine as he gave me a smug smile which I already despised.

"Welcome to our humble abode your majesty!" Dad greeted, giving a respected bow which she reciprocated.

"The pleasure is all ours, thank you." She smiled.

"Your majesty." A deep voice caught my attention, Harrison and put forward his hand asking me to do the same. Unwillingly I slipped my hand in his as he placed a soft kiss on my knuckles, eyes meeting once again. "Y/n, would you mind showing Princess Charlotte and Prince Harrison their rooms?" Mom asked and I nodded, "After me your highness." I flashed a small smile.

"How was your journey?" I asked Charlotte, trying to make small talk, climbing up the stairs.

"It would have been better if I wasn't accompanied by my brother dear." She rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder to the boy following us.

"Trust me siblings are annoying." I scoffed.

"Uh, ladies?" Harrison cleared his throat, "I'm right here." We ignored him and continued to laugh. I lead Charlotte to her room first, "This is your room your highness," I said opening the doors and letting her enter, "and you will have your maid here in case you need anything at all, please do not hesitate."

"Thank you," she smiled, "but please call me Lottie, highness seems to formal, now that we are going to be in-laws soon." She teased as I sent a nervous smile her way. I turned around to show Harrison his room when I crashed into his strong chest, he placed his firm hand on my hips to save me from falling, "Falling so soon for me?" He smirked. "You wish." I cleared my throat and balanced myself. We walked in silence to his room, "Well, this is your room." I licked my lips, "Your butler will be here if you need anything at all."

"Well I did want something." He called out before I left, "Where is your room?"

Excuse me? "Its down the hall, third door," I said hesitantly, "why may I ask?"

"Well my butler can't give me everything I want, I'll see you at dinner." He winked at me and closed the door, leaving me in the hallway absolutely baffled. What did he mean by that? I knew something was wrong about him.

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Strike through means I couldn't tag you

[memoirsofanerdygirl]

The Gold in the Abyss - Chapter One: Going Over His Head

Summary: 

London, 1991. 

Katherine Clarke -- Auror, Slytherin, and in desperate need of Severus Snape’s help. A mysterious shadow has poisoned two victims with an unknown substance, slowly decomposing their stomachs from within. When more bodies turn up in cramped London alleys, she has no choice but to ask her former professor for assistance. 

As Britain is plunged into war, Kate and Severus are forced to confront their demons of guilt and fear. Caught between two sides of a hopeless conflict, can they learn to respect one another, and, in time, perhaps even care for the other? 

Warnings: Language, implied attempted rape, mild graphic depictions of violence/gore. 

Notes: (feel free to skip this, it’s just to cover my ass) The Harry Potter Universe, all its characters and places are owned by J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, nor am I making any profit from this story. All original characters, I own. This story does contain adult situations, language, violence, and sexual situations. If any of these offend you, please do not read.

Okay, now for the real notes. So, this idea has been floating around for quite a while now, and I’m super, super excited to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy! And remember, comments, reblogs and general reactions are ALWAYS appreciated :)

~~~

The bookshop was tucked away in a corner of Diagon Alley, hidden around the bend of a back road that branched off the main shopping street.Small, but stuffed from floor to ceiling with old and new volumes alike, topics ranging from Guide to De-Ghouling to the latest editions of The Dark Arts Outsmarted. 

A sign with a bubbling cauldron and the words ‘The Melting Plot’ dangled above the entrance. Kate pulled open the door and entered. It smelled of old books and the unmistakable scent of a cooling charm -- artificial freshness, like the crisp air in the frozen aisle of a grocery store. All the same, she was glad for the rush of cold air that dispelled the muggy mid-August heat. 

She slipped her wand out of the sleeve of her lightweight jacket and stuck it in her belt loop. Her armpits were damp with sweat. At least there would be no stains in the loose blouse underneath. She shrugged off the jacket and draped the olive material over her arm. 

The bookkeeper was a spindly old man with a knotted hulihee beard, two bushels of coarse grey hair broadening his jaw to three times its size, but leaving his chin bare. He gave off whiffs of tobacco when one stepped too near, but he did, at the very least, know the store like the back of his hand. He looked up at her through thin rimmed spectacles.

“Research,” said Kate. “Poisons.”

He jerked his head toward the back right corner of the shop. 

She nodded. It suddenly occurred to her that in all the times she’d been to The Melting Plot, she had never asked the man’s name. Hadn’t been able to stand the stench long enough. 

The Melting Plot wasn’t large at all; perhaps, if she had to guess, half the size of Flourish and Blotts. Besides Kate, there was only one other patron present at the moment: a rather beefy man clad in deep violet robes. He barely glanced up at her as she breezed past his aisle. 

Secluded from the busy areas of Diagon Alley as it was, the shop’s customers were a medley of sporadic regulars who forwent the noisy din of Flourish and Blotts for the empty silence of The Melting Plot. Kate, however, came for the prices. Two-for-a-Galleon days were simply too tempting. 

Coming upon the aisle in the back, she sighed. She didn’t have the faintest idea what she was looking for; she had only the patients’ symptoms to go off of, and even those weren’t much. Vomiting. Bloody urine. Comatose state. How in the world was she supposed to find the poisonous culprit?

Encyclopedia, she answered herself. That had always been a good place to start.

She proceeded down the aisle, her finger brushing over the spines of the books as she quickly scanned the titles. Dark Arts Discovered by Eglantine Pickering… Vampires and Bats by Garrett Puckett… She was halfway down the aisle before she found a relevant title and plucked it off the shelf. She rested her foot on a bottom shelf, balancing on one leg, and propped the heavy book on her knee. She began to read.  

Barely five minutes in, and already it was hopeless. Like finding a Knut in a pile of dragon dung. She flipped idly through the pages, and when she heard the front door creak open again, she peered through the aisles for a glimpse of the newcomer. 

A flash of black between the stacks. Clacks of a forceful stride on the wooden floor. There was a low murmur, and Kate heard the bookkeeper wheeze, “ ‘Course,” and then the squeak of the backroom door opening and closing. Likely some customer picking up an order. She returned to the book in her hand. 

A Compendium of Magical Poisons, it was called. An antique, too; the textured leather spine gilded and ridged. She snapped the book shut to inspect the front and back covers. It would make a fine addition to her collection. 

Might as well. 

She exited the aisle for the till. If it didn’t prove useful, it could always be used as a coaster for her tea. Or given to Tristan; Tristan knew all sorts of muggle markets that sold old items for a vastly inflated price. One of the advantages of being a muggleborn, she supposed. 

The bookkeeper reentered from the backroom, carrying a small stack of books. “Four Galleons,” he said. “You want wrapping?”

The clink of coins hitting the counter. “Yes.” 

But… she knew that voice. Deep, deliberate. Always the hint of a sneer. She snapped her gaze up from the item in her hands. “Professor Snape?”

He was exactly as she remembered him. A tall, sharp frame draped in black robes buttoned up to his neck. Lank black hair lay limp against his pallid face, upon which a sharp brow was quickly rising. “Miss Clarke. What a surprise.”

“Yes. Yes, indeed.” As his critical gaze swept over her, Kate was suddenly very conscious of her flushed face, slightly oily with sweat. And Lord, her hair -- she hadn’t washed the dark brown mess in three days, too busy stressing over the new case. She instinctively raised a hand to sweep her hair over one shoulder. It was surprising, him having recognised her without her signature schoolgirl fringe. 

“It’s been six years, hasn’t it?” he said. 

It… had. Six years since she’d left the confines of Hogwarts. “Yes. Yes, indeed,” she said. 

The bookkeeper eyed them both with a twitching eye as he finished wrapping the books in brown paper and tied the package with a string of twine. 

Snape whisked his purchase off the counter. He gave her a curt nod and turned for the door. 

But -- he -- “How are the students?” she called. The least he could do was to finish their bloody conversation. 

He turned around. “Simply charming,” he sneered. 

“Wonderful.” He had never liked teaching, much less his students. Kate knew that. For four years, she had watched him stalk the dungeons. She’d watched him smirk in glee when a student answered a question wrong, watched him dock points by the bucketful when they made a racket in the halls. She, for some miraculous reason, had been on the receiving end of his withering stares only a handful of times. Owing to her Slytherin status, perhaps. Merlin knew she had never been a Potions Extraordinaire like Snape. 

Potions… Could she… 

“My cousin” -- she fished for something to say -- “my cousin is a first year student this year.”

“Your cousin.” 

“Ron Weasley.”

“Splendid.” His nostrils flared. “Another shabby Weasley to add to my excessive collection.”

She bit back a retort. They were a little shabby, and she admitted as much. But when Snape said it like that, sarcasm dripping from each word, it made her stomach twist. Regrettably, defending them would have to wait. For now, she needed Snape to tolerate her. 

Which, judging by the fleeting glance he cast toward the door, was going none too well. 

“Perhaps,” he tucked the package under his arm, “we shall meet again in another six years.” 

She smiled. “I doubt you’ll have to wait that long.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, I was wondering whether I might… consult your expertise.”

His brow arched up high on his pale forehead. “My expertise being…”

“Potions.” Kate made her way toward him, past the till and the bookkeeper. “You see, I’ve been assigned a case involving an unknown poison -- I’m an Auror -- and, well, unfortunately it seems that an ‘Exceeds Expectations’ N.E.W.T in Potions is not quite enough to find the antidote.”

“I can’t imagine it would be,” he said coldly. 

It was her turn to lift a brow. 

“Haven’t you contacted the St. Mungo’s Healers? They’re always eager to offer their services to the desperate.”

Kate forced a wry smile to her lips. “I have. A team has already begun to look into it. But, according to my father, we’ll all be dead in our graves before they find a cure.”

“And anything your father says must be true.”

Her smile was difficult to maintain. “He works at St. Mungo’s. Claims a horde of pixies could get it done faster. So, frankly, I am desperate. Two lives hinge-- ”

“So I’ve heard,” he interrupted. “I do read the Daily Prophet, Miss Clarke. ‘HIT Witch Janice Bulwark mysteriously discovered unconscious, admitted to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries’, no?” He recited the headline. 

Kate averted her eyes, muttering under her breath. She thought Kingsley had managed to get the reporter to keep the whole thing under wraps. “Yes, that’s the one.” She glanced at the bookkeeper, who was still eyeing them grittily. She caught a strong whiff of tobacco and resisted the urge to scowl. “Listen,” she said, “it’s rather sensitive information I’m about to share with you-- ”

“I’d much rather you didn’t,” said Snape. “I have no intention of involving myself in Ministry matters, much less a murder investigation.”

“Yes, but we have never seen anything like this before, and I’ve already exhausted every other option. I’m doing research in a bloody bookshop, for Merlin’s sake.”

He smirked. “Then I hope you are still a swift reader.” 

Git. Kate lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “Their stomachs are being decomposed from within, Professor.”

His ink black eyes studied her woody brown ones.  “I’m afraid I must disappoint you,” he said smoothly. “Term begins in a few short weeks, as you may well know, and I must prepare for the students.”

Prepare for the students? That was a load of dragon shit, and they both knew it. Snape’s gaze glinted, challenging her. 

So, this was how he wanted to play things. 

“Of course.” She smiled. “I understand.” She held up the thick encyclopedia in her hands. “Well, I had better go pay for this before the man suspects me of theft. Wonderful to see you again, really.” 

The slightest twitch of his brows was the only sign she had surprised him. Abruptly, he turned and departed the store, leaving a very amused Katherine Clarke to watch the door swing shut behind him. 

“You’re right about the stealin’,” the old bookkeeper grumbled. She caught another whiff of tobacco. “You going to buy it or not?”

“No,” said Kate firmly. “I don’t think I will.” She had too many books as it was. Besides, if she was right, she would soon possess a resource far more useful than a tatty reference book. 

***

In the end, Kate did purchase the book. She had a terrible soft spot for beautiful books that left an even more terrible dent in her Gringotts account. She strode a little ways toward the main street before she stopped, shifted her paper-wrapped package more securely under her arm, and turned on her heel. 

A swift pop, and she appeared once again in a back alley. Blaring honks and the rumble of traffic sounded from up ahead. 

Exiting onto Whitehall, she wove among the pedestrians until she came to a row of black spiky railings that flanked two flights of descending stairs labelled ‘LADIES’ and ‘GENTLEMEN’. She took the stairs to the right and quickly emerged into the underground public toilets. Dim lighting concealed most of the grime on the black and white tiles, and the mirrors that were supposed to have hung above the three sinks were respectively cracked, nonexistent and spattered with a brown substance that looked suspiciously like spit and chewed tobacco. 

Merlin, did everyone enjoy tobacco? 

Despite being the main entrance to the Ministry, the Whitehall public toilets were quite disgusting, and the only reason Kate could think why they wouldn’t perform a few simple cleaning charms on the place was that it kept Muggles at bay. In all the years she had used the toilets, she had only ever seen four, perhaps five Muggles wander in. They had been chased out by the unsavoury sight, or else quickly Confounded and sent back overground. Today was no different. Of the dozen or so people queued up by the stalls, all bore some sign of being a Ministry employee. 

Dawlish nodded at her from the next queue over. “Alright there, Clarke?” 

“Just popping in for a quick chat with Scrimgeour,” she returned. 

“Thought you were out on assignment.”

“I was.” She stepped forward in the queue. “Quite productive, actually. Lunch break?” she asked him. 

He nodded and patted his stomach beneath his beige suit. “Genevive came ‘round.”

“What about the baby?”

“Helen’s with Gen’s parents.” His wiry brown hair looked grey under the flickering fluorescent lights. “I’ve got a holiday next weekend, so they decided to come down for a fortnight.” 

“Excellent.”

Dawlish stepped into a stall. “It will be, as long as my mother-in-law quits smoking,” he called. “Terrible for Helen’s lungs, I told her.” There was a flushing noise and he was gone. 

Again, she thought. Again with the tobacco. 

It wasn’t long before Kate joined the throng of Ministry workers ambling toward the golden gates at the far end of the Atrium. The crowd was much thinner than the morning rush, however, and within minutes she was striding into the Auror Headquarters on Level Two. 

Dawlish had gotten there before her and was already settling in his cubicle, a small mountain of paperwork before him. He adjusted the framed picture lovingly placed in the corner of the cubicle -- a smiling brunette cradled a pig-tailed toddler, both perched atop a broomstick -- then set about dipping his quill in ink to begin the first page. 

“Oi, Clarke -- ” Gawain Robard twisted around in his chair, “ -- look at this.” He gestured at a chubby faced witch with cropped pink hair. 

The girl grinned cheekily and squeezed her eyes shut as Kate turned to watch. The enormous mane seemed to sprout out of her very neck; bushels of tawny hair laced with grey grew and grew until they framed the girl’s face like a lion’s mane. The girl brought her hands up to her eyes and formed two circles, like glasses, and set her lips into a deep frown. 

Kate snorted, then broke into a laugh as the girl growled in a spot-on imitation of the Head Auror. 

“Brilliant, eh?” Robard gazed at the girl proudly. One half of his face was gnarled with raised white scars. 

“Stunning,” she laughed. “Though I’m not sure Scrimgeour would appreciate the comedy.” She wracked her brain for the girl’s name… Tina… Tink… Tory, was it? 

The girl flushed and brought her hands down. The mane retreated. “Bloody terrifying, he is.”

“Who -- Scrimgeour?” Kate asked. 

She nodded, her hair turning to an apple red. “You know, I was getting myself some tea from the break room the other day -- adding my milk and sugar and everything -- and he appears next to me and he says -- ” the girl deepened her voice, imitating him, “ -- ‘Ought to use less milk. Have a mind to save the budget.’” She leaned against Robard’s desk. “I wasn’t quite sure what to say. He seems to hate me most out of all the A.T.s.”

Robard propped an arm on the back of his chair. “Well, there are only two of you. The man’s got to pick one, hasn’t he?”

Kate frowned. “Only two Trainees? I thought he hadn’t finished sorting through applications. Didn’t he have seventy some odd left?” 

“Dunno.” He ran a hand over his close-cropped black hair. “Anyway, I’ve got a pair of missing twins to find.” He spun back around in his seat. 

“Godspeed.” The Auror Trainee’s hair bloomed back to an offensive pink. 

Kate could distinctly remember meeting the girl not a week ago when the two A.T.s had first stepped foot in the Headquarters. After all, it was difficult to forget meeting a metamorphmagus, especially one with hair that rivaled the most garish of Valentine’s cards. But she could not, for the life of her, recall the girl’s name. 

“Can I get you anything, Ms Clarke?” the girl asked, stepping out of Robard’s cubicle. 

Kate had the sudden, fleeting image of a hook nosed, sharp faced man sneering at her over a cauldron. She hadn’t been addressed as ‘Miss Clarke’ for six years, and now… twice in one day. “Just Kate,” she said. “Er -- actually -- could you… ” She gave a small laugh. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Tonks,” said the girl brightly, offering a hand to shake. 

Kate took it gratefully. “Welcome to the Auror Headquarters.” She smiled. “Where we discuss murders over tea.”

Tonks grinned, and her hair turned yellow. 

Merlin’s pants. The girl was like one of those Muggle mood rings. 

“Is Kingsley in?” Kate asked. 

“Don’t think so. I saw him dragged out by a group of Obliviators ‘bout an hour ago. A little irritated by the looks of it.”

Then he’d have to wait, she decided. Time was of the essence. She bid Tonks a quick goodbye and wove to her own cubicle to set her package down. 

Kate’s cubicle, directly across from Kingsley’s, was cluttered. Very cluttered. A pair of reading spectacles rested lens-side down atop various open books. An unopened Chocolate Frog sat beside a red case folder labelled ‘BULWARK/GOLDHORN’, from which various photographs and documents threatened to burst. A marked map of London’s warehouse district was pinned to her cubicle wall, and next to that a rather crude drawing of a gnome Ginny had recently gifted her. Kate bent to pick up the scraps of parchment that had fluttered to the floor, set adrift by colleagues sweeping past her desk. 

Someday she would find time to tidy everything up. Someday, when this whole decomposing stomach debacle was sorted. 

She made her way to the back corner of the room where the Head Auror’s Office was located. Kate knocked softly on the door. The blinds looking out toward the cubicles were drawn. 

“Enter,” grumbled a voice on the other side. 

Scrimgeour’s office was rather dark; grey storm clouds twisted and gathered in the windows behind his desk, pregnant with heavy rain. He scribbled a few last words on a lavender coloured memo before it folded itself into a neat paper aeroplane and zoomed out the door just as Kate closed it behind her. 

“Clarke.” Scrimgeour fixed her with a steadfast gaze, his mouth turned down in a deep frown. A pair of wire-rimmed spectacles sat low on his ridged nose.  “What’s the matter? Something gone wrong with one of them victims?” 

“No, no,” she said. “Conditions unchanged, last I heard.”

“Comatose.”

She nodded. “Fortunately. Or they’d be in quite some pain.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“The St Mungo’s task force isn’t working fast enough to save them -- Bulwark and Goldhorn.” It was the truth, plain and simple. 

“Aren’t they?”

Kate approached his desk but did not sit down; she rested her hands on the back of the chair before the table. “It’s been made very clear that they’ve only got a list of three possible poisons. Three, sir. It’s been a week and a half. Therefore,” she steeled herself, “it is my hope that, with your permission, I may bring the Potions Master Severus Snape in as a consultant on this case and work on an antidote myself.”

“Severus Snape? What -- the Death Eater?” His tone was incredulous. 

“Former Death Eater, sir.”

Scrimgeour huffed a laugh, shaking his tawny head. His maned head looked too large for his rangy frame. When he saw that Kate’s expression was quite unchanged, he stilled. 

She took the chance. “He is a brilliant Potioneer. A specialist in his field. In fact, I believe his knowledge of poisons and antidotes surpasses even that of the task force’s.”

“With all due respect, Clarke, you can’t expect me to believe that you and Severus Snape can produce an antidote faster than the task force. They’re a group of highly skilled Healers. They’ve studied poisons for years.”

“And with all due respect to you, sir, you have never been taught by Severus Snape.” Her straight, stubborn brows drew together. 

He opened his mouth as if to say something, revealing small rows of snaggled teeth. He let out a suppressed sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if you weren’t sorted into Gryffindor instead.” 

She ignored the comment. Her feelings regarding her house were muddled, and it was much easier to ignore them instead. Besides, no use crying over spilt potions. “Please, sir. It can only help the investigation.”

“Your job is to catch the wizard, not to cure the patients.”

“And the antidote will help us to do just that. You know it will. The sooner we find the antidote, the sooner we catch the wizard.” Kate released the chair back and slid her hands into the pockets of her trousers. “If you require it, I can have a copy of his professional record owled to you, but that will take time. Precious time I’m afraid the victims don’t have.” 

Lie. She was quite sure she would not be able to obtain a copy of Snape’s record at all. The man certainly wouldn’t provide it willingly. 

Scrimgeour narrowed his yellowish eyes behind his spectacles. “And if, in the end, you find you’ve spent too much time mixing cocktails in the dungeons and the case goes cold -- what happens then? What happens when you find you’ve lost?”

“I won’t -- ”

“Shacklebolt is an excellent Auror, top of the line. But no wizard shy of Merlin himself could conduct interviews, formulate theories, inspect crime scenes, subdue the Prophet, investigate suspects and catch the perpetrator singlehandedly.” 

“But he won’t be, sir. I am in no way deserting him. I’m merely pursuing an alternate method of investigation in addition to the established method.” Kate took her hands out of her trouser pockets. She hastily swept her dark hair over one shoulder. “I’ve had a chat with Kingsley already. He agrees that it would be extremely helpful to have Snape on standby.” Her mouth dried slightly. She tried not to swallow. 

Scrimgeour pulled his frown deeper and inspected Kate for a few quiet  moments. Then his spectacles shifted as his ridged nose twitched in resignation. “Shall I inform him, or shall you?”

Warm satisfaction spread through her chest. “Oh, no, it had much better come from you.”

“Very well.” He pulled a blank sheet of parchment from behind his desk. 

“Thank you, sir.” Kate returned to the door and pulled it open. 

His rumbling voice called her back. “Remind me what grade you received on your Potions N.E.W.T.?”

This she couldn’t lie about. Scrimgeour had her records. “‘Exceeds Expectations’, sir.” 

Scrimegour’s busheled brows lowered. “I see.” The doubt in his tone was unmistakable. “I don’t need to remind you that two lives rest in your hands. However you decide to proceed with the case, whether through investigation or experimentation, will determine whether they and their families receive justice. If you fail, it will reflect poorly on our department.” His yellowish eyes blinked at her in the dim office. “Be careful, Katherine.”

She dipped her head. “Of course.” 

***

Kate had been right about Kingsley. Admittedly, he’d been rightfully irritated at her not having waited until after he’d got back to ask Scrimgeour, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She’d even gotten him to confess that having Snape on hand would be useful. At least he hadn’t given her one of his ‘honestly, Kate’ looks. The last time she had gotten one of those was three years ago when she’d still been his trainee. 

The keys jangled as she inserted one into the lock and opened the door to her flat. The bloody things were a nuisance, but living squarely in the middle of Westminster, it was a necessary sacrifice.

It was dark and quiet inside her flat. Street lamps outside cast a small pool of light by the window. Late night traffic grumbled past; Trafalgar Square never slept. Kate dropped her briefcase by the door and hung the keys on the coat stand. As she passed into the small kitchen, she dropped her linen jacket on the granite counter. 

She had already eaten dinner with Kingsley, working on the case while nibbling on Ministry canteen sandwiches. Four empty wrappers lay crumpled on the table before they had looked up and realised it was nearly ten. But the brain burned nearly twenty percent of one’s daily calories, which meant an extra supper for her after a long day’s work. 

And so it was that Kate rooted around the fridge, the white light casting an eerie glow on her pale face. She spooned down a bit of leftover curry from the Thai place down the street. A quick wave of her wand and the dishes were washed. She crept down the creaky hall to the bedroom. 

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, but all was dark inside. White noise rumbled in the chambers. Kate eased herself through the crack in the door, then shut it behind her. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness before creeping to the dresser across from the large bed. Slowly, ever so slowly, she pulled the drawer out, inch by inch. The ancient wood squeaked, loud enough to be heard over the white noise. 

A groan from the rumpled sheets on the bed. “Kate?”

Damn. She gave up and yanked the drawer open the rest of the way. “Sorry to wake you,” she whispered. “I was trying to be quiet.”

“It’s fine. Just got back from work?” His American accent was slightly slurred with sleep. 

“Yes. Kingsley and I had some business to discuss.” She pulled her nightclothes from the drawer and pushed it shut again. 

Mark grunted. Kate could just make out his lean form struggling to sit up. 

She shushed him. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right there.” 

“No, no, it’s okay, baby. I’ll wait up for you.” But he fell back against the pillows and tried to conceal a yawn. 

Kate shimmied out of her work clothes, carefully folding the white shirt and trousers and draping them on top of the dresser. 

“What was the business with Kingsley about?” 

“The new case.” She slipped into her nightshirt. “We brought in a new consultant today.” 

Mark hummed sleepily and dragged a hand up to scratch his beard. She climbed into bed next to him. 

“Come here,” he said. He opened his arms and waited until she settled in to continue. “Who’s the consultant?”

His chest was too high for her head; her neck scrunched uncomfortably when she laid against him. “My former Potions Master.” Kate shifted her arm under her shoulder, then changed her mind and wriggled it out. 

“The mean one or the fat one?”

“Mean one. I actually haven’t heard from the fat one in a while.” She grunted as she shifted positions. “But Tristan says he keeps getting letters from him.”

“Really?”

“Apparently Slughorn wants a special invitation to one of his concerts.”

His beard scratched the top of her head as he looked down at her. “You okay?” 

She removed her arm from under her shoulder for the third time and stilled. “Sorry.” 

“So, what’s the plan with him? Your Potions Master?”

“Not sure yet.” Well, she did have a general idea, but the specifics would ultimately come down to how difficult Snape was set on being.  “How was your day?”

“Good.” He rubbed her back, up and down. “Went to the Leaky Cauldron to get some writing done. Five thousand words and half a chapter finished.”

“Excellent. Has what’s-his-name found the killer yet?”

“Not yet. That’s in Chapter Thirteen.”

Kate laughed softly. “Thirteen, you say?”

“Yeah.” His fingers wove into her dark hair. 

For a few minutes they were silent, white noise thundering over the sound of their breathing and the traffic outside. His chest rose and fell; Kate’s neck cricked awkwardly. 

“I kept staring at our spot at the bar,” he said suddenly. “At the Leaky Cauldron.”

She thought he’d fallen back asleep. “Our spot?” 

“Remember -- the day we met? You were sitting on the third seat from the left end of the bar -- ”

“You remember which seat I was sitting in?”

“Of course. How could I not?”

Kate huffed in amusement. 

“You wore those robes -- I think they were blue, yeah, navy blue -- and you were reading that ratty copy of Pride and Prejudice.”

“And the ring too. Don’t forget the wedding ring.”

She could hear the grin in his voice. “Didn’t stop me from asking you out, did it?”

“Not sure what that says about you, Mark.”

“But I knew it was a fake.”

“Did you now?”

He hummed. “I was people-watching that night. There was no way I would’ve missed something as obvious as that.”

“And yet,” Kate propped her chin on his chest to look up at him, “I distinctly remember you ordering two bottles of firewhiskey, throwing me the worst pickup line, and proceeding to get me exceedingly sloshed.”

“You weren’t that drunk,” he protested. “You were still sober enough to help me with my novel.”

“Well, we both know it only sold so well because of me.”

“Really?”

“Most definitely. The murder mystery wouldn’t’ve been half so believeable if I hadn’t mixed in a dash of first-hand experience.”

He chuckled. “Of course, baby. All because of you.” His arms tightened around her back. His voice was husky when he spoke again. “My life is perfect because of you. So, so perfect.”

She could almost feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She didn’t know how to respond. 

“Sleep, sleep, baby,” he murmured. “I love you.” He kissed the top of her head. “My soon-to-be wife.”

And suddenly the ring on her left hand felt cold as ice. She could think of nothing to say without sounding like a lovesick chit, so she settled for sliding an arm around his stomach. “Goodnight, Mark.” 

He merely hummed in contentment. 

It took less than five minutes for him to drift off again. Kate’s head rose and fell in time with his chest. A powerful snore escaped his mouth. Wrapped in rumbling white noise, she let her thoughts race. 

She’d been wrong before, when she’d thought Snape looked the same. Their exchange had lasted mere minutes, his words, tone, attitude all as she’d expected, but his posture, his body language… Taut, shallow breaths through the nose, fingers gripping his package so tightly they turned white… 

Of course, noticing such details was part of her training, but even without it, she would’ve recognised the signs for what they were -- silent, creeping fear. 

The fear of the unknown. The knowledge that something, at any time, could attack her from anywhere. Like stumbling down a pitch black corridor and feeling a hand latch onto her ankle. 

Merlin. 

Kate slid from the bed. For a moment, she teetered on the edge; she was being ridiculous and dramatic. Crawling back into bed was the right choice, the reasonable choice. Kate watched the sleeping man in the bed, his golden brown hair nearly black in the darkness, his beard freshly trimmed, his chest bare. Her left thumb reached for the ring around her finger. 

Perhaps a cup of tea would do her good. 

The warm beverage didn’t take long to make. Soon, she was cradling the mug in her hands, though not daring to drink for fear of burning her tongue. Waiting a few minutes would do the trick. 

Out in the sitting room, there was no white noise. A siren wined in the distance. Kate leaned against the window frame, looking out over Trafalgar Square. Despite the late hour, pedestrians still dotted the brightly lit square; some gathered around the colourful fountains, while others stopped to admire Nelson’s Column, an imposing Corinthian column upon which sat the Admiral of the same name. He hopped the twig ages ago, but his mark was long since made. 

Kate blew on her tea. The warm steam tickled her nose. Some marks, she knew, never faded. The sight of her former Head of House had only reminded her of the fact. 

Even now, bundled in her soft cotton nightshirt and her hair cascading around her shoulders, she could still feel his hand on her breast. Gripping. Pinching. 

Hyatt Travers. 

Her stomach turned over. She set her mug on the window sill. 

The Death Eaters swallowed Slytherin house like a riptide. She knew, because fighting the current had come with a steep price she’d paid in full. 

Her hands itched in restlessness. Kate picked up her mug again, scraping the rim with a nail. She looked at her knuckles. It was too easy to picture his blood and hers, drops flying from her fist as she’d drawn back to strike him again. The blinding frenzy. His spit in her face, a mouthful of saliva and blood from his broken teeth. 

The scars from that night were still there, faint but clearly visible between her knuckle ridges. 

Mark asked about them once. A rough encounter with an illegal dealer a couple years ago, she told him. He hadn’t suspected anything then, but since then… Her random bursts of resentment were impossible to overlook. 

From the window, Kate watched a couple amble across the Square, arm in arm. The woman turned her face up to his, and the man gave her a chaste kiss. Kate smiled, but it soon disappeared.

When her moods came -- as they inevitably would -- Mark would sit her down on their bed, poking and prodding with this tranquil voice. He was trying to avoid a row, but it was like a bloody piece of plastic wrap smothering her. She tried to contain herself, really, but her voice raised of its own accord, the tears came unbidden, the swell of anger unwelcome. And when he shushed her or pulled her to his chest, she just … she couldn’t. She didn’t want to be quiet. She didn’t need a hug. 

Kate took a large sip of her tea. The hot liquid prickled her tongue. 

Oh, Mark… He would never look at her the same way. 

That night -- her violence -- was a secret to keep. 

***

Loud beeping woke Kate in the morning. She felt better after a quick face wash, but last night’s sleeplessness lingered as she plodded into the kitchen. Mark was seated at the small square table, dressed in only a shirt and boxers. He sipped a mug, transfixed by the glowing picture box pushed against the corner counter. A blonde woman chattered on screen as images of rubble flashed behind her. 

Kate gazed at the box for a long moment; it was called a telephone, wasn’t it? Well, tele-something, that much she knew. “You’re up early,” she said. 

Mark glanced up. His brown gaze swept over her nightshirt clad form. A blush rose in her cheeks.  “I’m meeting Steven and Wilson for some ball at nine. Told you last week, remember?”

She did not. “Football?”

He pushed his floppy brown hair back from his eyes. “They’re muggles. Can’t play Quidditch.”

“Shame.” She spotted a covered plate on the table. “Oh, what’s this? Breakfast?”

“Toast and eggs. There’s coffee in the pot, if you want it.”

Kate pouted playfully. “No baked beans?”

He grimaced. “I will never understand you Brits.”

“No matter. I’m sure I’ll survive.” She gave him a quick peck and settled down to eat. Mark turned back to his tele-box, downing the rest of his coffee. 

She had just finished her toast when Mark interrupted. 

“Incoming.” He was looking out the window. 

With the way the table was pushed against the wall and window, Kate had to stand and move behind Mark to get a look outside. In the distance, above the narrow alley the window faced, two spots flapped toward them. 

“Two owls?” She settled back into her seat. “You know, we’re much too popular to be living in such a busy muggle area.”

“I’m the one paying the rent -- ”

“Just having you on, Mark,” she smiled. “The concealment charms’ll hold up.”

And though Mark’s gaze followed the sweeping path of the owls as they swooped into the alley, to the Muggle passerbys down below, they were nothing more than thin air. Mark pushed the window open. A beastly eagle owl fluttered in, followed by a rather plain barn owl. 

Tied onto the first owl’s leg was a bundled copy of the Daily Prophet. Kate reached over her eggs and untied the string. It took a few tries; several of her nails had broken during a nasty tumble in a duelling simulation a week ago. 

“It’s for you.” Mark slid the letter from the barn owl across to her. 

She hummed in acknowledgement, but opened the newspaper instead. She hoped Kingsley had taken care of the stray reporter. A quick scan of the paper confirmed her hopes: there was nothing about the case. In fact, the only interesting headline read, ‘GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN STILL UNDER INVESTIGATION’, but she gave it no mind. That was Moody’s case. 

“Here.” She handed the Prophet to Mark, then took up the letter on the table. 

The letter was merely a small square of folded parchment sealed with flimsy black wax. Katherine Clarke was written in sharp lettering, as if the author had tried to stab through the paper as they wrote. She broke open the seal. There was no greeting, no signature, but she didn’t need them to know exactly who had sent the letter. 

She couldn’t help it; she snorted. 

Mark looked up at her. “What?”

Kate set the paper next to her plate. “Seems I’ll be visiting Hogwarts soon.”

For, written on the yellowed parchment in a cramped, spidery scrawl: 

Potions classroom. 25th August. 4pm. 

Without Rufus Scrimgeour, if you please.

~~~

Notes: Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. No promises on when the next update will be, but I’m working on it :)

~~~

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Secrets ~ 2

Warnings: noncon sexual acts later in series

This is dark!Bucky and dark!Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A buried family secret comes to light thrusting you to the forefront of an old alliance.

Note: Last night I got some not so nice comments about me and I know it doesn’t really matter but considering I have to work on my bday tomorrow and everything is just mounting and mounting up, I don’t know how much writing I’ll be doing. It could be a lot or a little. But thankful to have those who care, you guys, cheering me on.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You went on like nothing had changed. It hadn’t. You weren’t leaving to marry some stranger. Some outdated prince in his crumbling castle. You studied the past, you didn’t want to live in it.

You went to class. Numb. Your anger slaked away as you jotted your notes and tried to ignore the tugging in your chest. Three classes, a coffee in between the second and the third, then you were due at the bookstore for the closing shift.

It was late enough in the year that the customers weren’t so many. You paced the aisles and asked students if they needed help. Few did as they perused the shelves and wandered, almost aimlessly so. Danica was on the till, though you took turns between sorting through the table of discount paperbacks left disordered by curious shoppers.

Only twenty minutes before close and you were near the back of the store, sweeping. Your path was blocked however as you turned in the far aisle. That man, Mr. Barnes, stood by the wall of rucksacks and hoodies, pretending to be interested. Given the fine cut of his suit and the polish of his shoes, you doubted he needed or wanted the campus-branded clothing.

You kept at your work. You got closer and continued to sweep, knocking his heels with the broom as you grumbled a grizzly ‘excuse me’. He chuckled and stepped aside, turning to watch you as you tried to ignore him.

“Your highness,” He said.

“Don’t call me that,” You huffed as you lifted the dustpan and it folded up against the stick. “What are you doing here?”

“My duty.” He said lightly. “I was sent by your fiance to keep an eye on you. To bring you back to him.” He glanced around and slid a magazine from the rack. “To free you of this boring mediocrity.” He flipped through the pages. “You don’t belong here, Duchess.”

He folded back the magazine and turned it to face you. He held it out and you scowled. He waved it impatiently and you sighed as you stepped closer to look. A man, tall, blonde, austere, leaned against an expensive sports car, a mansion behind him, akin to Versailles, as he gazed nonchalantly into the camera. The headline floated beside him; ‘A King for our Times’”

You recognized him. You’d seen him, as most people had; on the news, in tabloids, on questionable gossip blogs. You’d never paid much attention to him or those royals who existed beyond their means. You scoffed and shrugged.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Your lip curled.

“Your feelings don’t really matter,” He closed the magazine and put it back. “The contract stands.”

“You came all this way on the back of a paper signed by a dead king of a dead nation?” You shook your head. “Is your king that desperate?”

His jaw squared and he swallowed. “You think this makes you better than him? This… existence?”

“A life I earned,” You retorted. “I doubt he or you know very much about that.”

“And how much do you know of duty? Obligation? A purpose beyond your own selfish needs?”

“Selfish?” You rolled your eyes. “Sir. We’re closing. You need to leave.”

He tilted his head and grinned. His tongue poked out along his lip and he chuckled.

“Your highness,” He bowed his head. “Until tomorrow.”

He stepped closer and you turned to let him past.

“Don’t bother,” You said to his back as you watched him near the end of the aisle. “I’m not going. Tell him to find someone else.”

He stopped and pushed back his shoulders. He said nothing, just stood there a moment before he continued on. The electronic ding signaled his departure and you let out the breath that had stuck in your chest. 

You clutched the broom and dustpan in one hand and grabbed the magazine from beside you. You went to the counter where Danika was balancing the till.

“Hey,” You leaned the broom and pan against the counter. “I wanna buy this.”

“Just take it.” She shrugged. “With our discount, it might as well be free.”

You nodded and took it, bending it under your arm.

“Anything else besides cleaning?” You asked.

“Nah,” She counted out the last of the pennies. “Go on. I’ll close up.”

👑

You sat on your bed, the glow of your small lamp the only light. After an hour of tossing and turning, you surrender to wakefulness. You stared at the magazine, the glossy cover reflected the light beside you. You sank back into your pillows and picked at the pages until you found the one. You opened the magazine and stared at the man; the king; the strange. Fiance?

He was handsome, sure, but even in a picture, he seemed haughty. There was an arrogance to his shoulder, the way he leaned on the white hood, how he appeared to look down his nose at the lens even while standing on the same level. You flipped the page and began to read. 

A short blurb introduced him as the King of Astrania, once the playboy prince, but, as the article claimed, matured by the throne. You recalled the gossip of those days, yourself barely a teen then. One night, he had a socialite on his arm, the next an actress, next a singer, a model…

‘You’ve done so much. Anything still on the list?’ The interviewer lobbed another softball question.

‘Lots.’ The king answered. ‘I think my mother would be relieved to hear me say I think it’s past time I found a wife. A queen.’

‘You’re going to break a lot of hearts, your majesty.’

‘I’ve had my fun. Maybe too much. If I’m to serve my people, I’ll need someone at my side.’

You lowered the magazine and frowned at the ceiling. You pushed the pages off your chest and rolled over to turn off the lamp. You pulled the pillow over your head and squeezed your eyes shut. The thought of being bound to man so opposite yourself made you want to scream but you were too tired for that.

👑

You still didn’t know what to say to your mother. Your whole life was a lie. Not a lie you hated which was worse because the truth threatened to undo it all. When you went to the kitchen to get your coffee, she was there, waiting, a mug ready for you. You didn’t say more than thanks as you took and returned to your room.

You readied yourself for another day. Thursday. The last two days felt like weeks.  You packed up your bag and left through the front door, avoiding your mother who watched you from the kitchen. What were you supposed to tell her? It’s okay you lied to me, it’s okay you don’t want to fight, it’s okay to barter me away before I was even born? None of it was okay.

You reached the end of the walk and a man in a black suit stepped into your path. You stopped short and tried to pass him. Another man, in the same suit, black jacket, black tie, black everything, blocked you again. You turned the other way and found yourself box in by Mr. Barnes. He crossed his arms as he smiled at you.

“You’re off early.” He said.

“I have class.” You sneered and once more tried to make your way around the men. They moved with you, forming a wall. “Get out of my way.”

“The king wants me back before the end of the week. I can’t return empty-handed.”

“I don’t care what your king wants. I have class, work--”

“The jet is charted for three,” He checked his watch. “We have lots of time to pack.”

“You’re not--” You sputtered. “No.”

You looked back at your house. Your mouth stood in the door as she watched. She looked sad, broken. You grimaced at her.

“I told you I’m not going,” You tried to shove past Barnes and the other men grabbed your arms, your bag flopping to the ground. “Hey, let me go.”

“Your highness, my king did permit us reasonable force in our duty,” Barnes said evenly. “And to this point, I have restrained from it.”

“Hey,” Your mother swept through the door and stormed towards the men. “Don’t! Let her go! You’ll hurt her.”

“There is a seat for you on the jet too, Princess,” Barnes offered. “It’s only fitting the mother of the bride should attend the wedding.”

“Get off!” You kicked out and Barnes moved out of the way. “Off!”

“Astrania favours tradition.” He continued. “And it is not unheard for brides to be brought in chains. I’d rather not be so medieval.”

“I don’t wanna go! No!” You continued to struggle. Your mother grabbed at one of the men and was swiftly shaken off. “Stop!”

“Get her inside. The princess, too.” Barnes order.

One man hooked his arms through yours and held them behind you as the other seized your mother. You were turned and forced back down the walk, growling and grunting as you were pushed up the porch steps. Your mother whimpered as she was held by the back of her neck and angled through the front door ahead of you.

Inside, the door clattered and the thicker one was closed and locked. Barnes led the way into the living room and pointed to the couch.

“Princess,” He ordered and your mother was pushed onto the sofa. “Bring the duchess here.”

He beckoned to the hallway and strode ahead of you. Your shoulders ached as you tried and tried to wrench yourself away. Barnes looked in doors until he found your room. You were taken inside as he peered around.

“Cuff her,” He said. “Put her on the bed.”

He turned you and pushed you down onto the mattress. He released your arms as he pinned your down with his knee in your back and you reached back blindly to claw at him. He caught your wrists and held them together, securing them with a pair of thick cuffs before he got off of you. You rolled over and kicked out. Barnes caught your ankle and squeezed until you groaned in pain.

“The king would prefer a bride without a broken foot,” He warned. “But he will accommodate it, should he need to.”

He threw your leg down gruffly and nodded to the man. The other left and you sat up awkwardly, your arms trapped behind you. You stood and Barnes quickly pushed you back down.

“I’ve been nice. Patient.” He said. “But I don’t have time for this.” He pointed his finger in your place. “Perhaps your mother didn’t tell you how these things work or maybe you just didn’t listen. This isn’t a proposal, Duchess. Not a choice.”

You snapped at his finger and he drew away quickly. He smirked and scoffed and shoved you back roughly.

“Keep it up and I’ll have you strapped down.” He snarled. 

You slowly sat up, glaring at him, but didn’t go further. “Fuck you.” You spat.

His eyes rounded then he snickered again. 

“Oh, there’s a lot to work on, Duchess. That mouth, first of all,” He turned and pulled open the sliding door of your closet. “Ugh, and…” He touched a wool sweater. “And these, most of all.”

The man in black reappeared with a suitcase, the other faded leather dug up from the linen closet. He slapped it down on the bed beside you and flipped it open. He went to stand in the door, blocking it with his wide frame.

“Duchess, future queens, do not wear…” He held up a jacket. “Tweed.”

You growled, fighting the urge to kick him. You couldn’t reach and the cuffs kept you off-balance.

“We’ll take enough for the time being but… we’ll have to bring in some stylists,” He dropped an armful of clothes into the suitcase. “For…” He looked you up and down. “Everything.”

“You can’t do this,” You snarled.

“I can. I am.” He insisted as he tucked in the corners of the clothing. “That’s what you don’t seem to understand. I can do whatever I want. I have an order from the king and I have diplomatic authority. Now, I have been nice so far, I will even allow your mother to accompany you.”

“No,” You hissed. “No, leave her here.”

“Leave her?” He asked.

“It’ll be easier.” You lowered your chin. “For both of us.”

He was quiet. He nodded and stepped away. He went to the attached bathroom and returned with your pouch of essentials. 

“We can make up for whatever we forget,” He dropped it atop the open suitcase. “Anything in particular I’ve missed, duchess?”

“Beyond human decency?” You challenged.

He laughed once more and closed the suitcase. 

“It’s a long flight,” He said. “And it’ll be longer with those.” He tugged on the cuffs. “Hopefully it gives you time to think.”

He zipped up the bag and handed it to the man in black. Then he grabbed you and lifted you onto your feet. He guided you from the room with his hand on your wrists. Your mother sat, the other man staring her down, and looked over as you entered.

“Please, don’t take her. Please.” She begged as she tried to stand only to be nudged back by her watcher. “You can’t--”

“Princess, you know you can’t stop us.” Barnes said. “And your daughter has made up her mind. You will stay.” He bent to look her in the eyes. “You get your wish. Stay in your exile, pretending, playing at normalcy.”

“I’ll go,” She pleaded. “Let me go.” She leaned over and looked around him at you. “Don’t leave me here. I’ll come with you. I’ll-- I’ll-- you’re my daughter--”

“And you lied to me.” You sniffed. “You did this. Why would I want you to come?”

“I’m your mother.” She uttered.

“You’re the Princess of Ecklun. It was written there on that paper.” You sneered. “In your hand. I have to live with what you’ve done but it doesn’t mean I have to live with you.”

You turned your head up and held back the sudden wave of sadness which swelled in you. Everything you knew was just a lie. Your own mother. Your only family. She’d sold you like cattle. If she had warned you, maybe you could have stayed hidden. If she had warned you, maybe you wouldn’t be so unprepared. If she had warned you…

“Well,” You looked at Barnes. “Are we going?”

He stepped away from your mother and took your arm. “No goodbyes?”

“She signed her farewell a long time ago,” You said and turned away from her. “She’s had years to prepare for this. Years she stole from me.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

bad reputation ~ g eazy

word count: 1765

request?: yes!

“Diferent Geazy fan. Can I request an imagine like from enemies to lovers where reader is a bit taken aback because of gerald reputation? But in anin cliche way”

description: in which she hears he’s a bad boy and forms an opinion before meeting him, but is taken back when she finds the rumors are untrue

pairing: g eazy x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

Although I knew it was wrong, I had formed an opinion on Gerald before we had even met.

I saw his name through tabloid magazines and websites in scandalous headlines more than I could count. Countless tales of him being a partyaholic who loved to drink, smoke weed, and fuck anything that walked, numerous cheating allegations that Ashley had even confirmed to me when I met her on the red carpet, and overall just nothing good to be sad about Gerald ever.

He wasn’t the type of person I wanted to surround myself with, which was why I tried my hardest to stay away from him. That is, until my record label decided they wanted me to do a collab with him on my next album.

“There’s so many rapper I could collaborate with, why him?” I asked my manager over the phone as I drove to the studio.

“That’s just who the label wants. He’s one of the biggest modern rappers right now, they think it’ll be a huge hit for you.”

“He’s an asshole!”

“You’ve never met him, (Y/N).”

“I don’t need to meet him to know he’s an asshole. I’ve never seen one good article written about him.”

“You of all people should know that tabloid media is not the best thing to go off of in regards to someone’s character.”

I threw my head back and groaned, earning me a strange look from the cab driver taking me to the studio.

“Fine, I’ll try to work with him, but warn the studio that if he is as much of an asshole as he seems to be that I’m not doing it. I don’t care how big of a hit it would be, I’m not working with a certified dickwad.”

My manager chuckled. “Alright, I will. Good luck, hun.”

I rolled my eyes and hung up. I rested my head against the window, dreading the moment I would pull up to the studio.

That moment came quicker than I would have liked and, before I knew it, I was paying my cab driver and looking at the entrance to the studio. I would’ve done anything to turn around and go home, or at least to go to a different studio and record on my own. But I knew the label wanted this, and I couldn’t go against the label. Not without any concrete evidence that I actually couldn’t work with Gerald.

So, I had no choice but to suck it up and walk into the studio. I felt my dread growing as I neared the studio I knew we were working in, and the moment I walked in I was hit with an overwhelming stench of weed smoke.

Gerald was sat on the couch, a pad of paper balanced on his lap as he held a pen in one hand and a joint in the other. He took a hit from the joint and exhaled the smoke into the room. I wasn’t someone who was against weed, far from it actually, I found it helped with my writing process. But something about watching Gerald take puffs from his joint and exhale them into the windowless room just made my blood boil.

“Could you put that out?” I asked him. “It’s making the room feel claustrophobic.”

He looked up suddenly before smiling. “Oh hey! Sorry, didn’t hear you come in.’ He rose from the couch and extended a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

I glanced at the joint in his other hand before reluctantly shaking his outstretched one. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Could you put that out?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I find having a joint helps with my creative juices.”

He stubbed the blunt out in a nearby ashtray, one I assumed he had brought with him or taken from somewhere. The studio didn’t allow smoking under any circumstances. I wondered if we’d get in trouble for that.

I sat on the other side of the room as far away from Gerald as possible. I folded myself in the usual manor that I did when writing and rested my notebook against my legs.

Across the room, I heard Gerald chuckle. I glared at him over my notebook. “What?”

“That doesn’t look comfortable,” he noted, nodding to how I was sitting.

“It’s how I write,” I snapped. “It’s comfortable to me.”

“Okay, okay!” he said, putting his hands up. “Sorry, just making a note. I figured the couch here with be more comfortable.”

“I’ll just sit about the same way,” I told him. “I like it over here.”

Gerald rested his head against his hand, looking at me. “You don’t like me.”

“What gave you that idea?”

He chuckled at my response. “I’m just wondering what I did to offend you so bad. We’ve only just met.”

I sighed and placed my pen and paper aside. It was obvious that I wasn’t about to do any actual writing any time soon. “You are a bonafide bad boy, and I don’t like bad boys. Especially not the ones that are so stereotypically bad that it’s almost comical.”

A small smirk tugged on Gerald’s lips. “Who told you I was a bad boy?”

“Believe it or not, you’re very well written about. I’ve seen basically every story - ”

“Every tabloid story?” he cut me off. “I feel like, if anyone should know how bullshit those are, it should be you. I’m sure you’ve had a good few written about you.”

“Of course I have,” I said with a shrug. “But there’s a difference between tabloids writing and people confirming. I mean, two of your past girlfriends have admitted you cheated on them, there’s numerous videos of you out partying till the brink of dawn basically every night, and when I walked in you were smoking a joint in a studio that very clearly has a sign stating no smoking.”

He looked amused by my answer, and that pissed me off a little. “Okay then, tell me all those stories are wrong.”

“They’re not wrong, but they don’t automatically made me an asshole.”

I raised an eye at him, silently encouraging him to go on. Gerald sighed and placed his notebook aside as well, sitting forward and looking at me.

“I did cheat on Lana and Ash, I’ll admit that. Fuck, I’ve admitted it so many times I can say the words in my sleep. It was a mistake, both times were mistakes. I was in unhappy relationships and didn’t know how to get out, so I just moved on to the next girl. The girl I was with after Ash, when things started going downhill I left her. End of story, that was it. I’m not proud of what I did, and I’ll never be able to make it up to Lana or Ash for what I did, and I don’t deserve that, but it’s in the past and I’m working to fix that.”

I felt myself soften with every word he said. I was shocked at how mature he sounded. Part of me thought he would just deny the cheating allegations despite them being confirmed by Lana and Ashley themselves. To hear him own up to them, and to say he was trying his best to not be that person anymore, shocked me. I wasn’t sure what to say.

Gerald used my speechlessness to keep talking. “And yeah, of course I like to party. I’m fucking 31! I’ve been doing this shit since I was in my twenties, sometimes I need an escape from the bullshit of being famous, and drinking, smoking, and partying does just that. And, to ease your worried mind, I asked the woman at the desk if it was okay to smoke a little before we started recording. She said it was fine, we won’t get in trouble.”

I sighed as he finished talking. I ran my hand through my hair and slumped back in my chair. “I’m a total dick.”

Gerald smiled and chuckled a little. “I wouldn’t say total. Only partial.”

I smiled back at him, my first genuine smile. When I did, I watched his face brighten even more.

“I’m sorry I judged you before I even really got to meet you,” I told him. “That was beyond stupid of me, I shouldn’t have just assumed you’d be a bad boy because of your image.”

“At least you’re admitting it,” he joked. “I’m fine to move past that. It’s over now, we’ve gotten it all out there.”

I agreed and, being the dorks we were, Gerald and I decided to shake on it.

The writing process went very smoothly after that. We ended up writing two songs as both of us kept coming up with so many lines that we realized they couldn’t possibly fit in the one song. By the time our studio time was up, we had figured out the two songs and the partial beats for both.

Gerald offered to drive me back to my place, which I graciously accepted. The car ride was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. I didn’t feel as tense or angry as I had on my way to the studio. I was glad Gerald and I managed to get along, and I was grateful for the new music partner I had made in the short time we were together.

“This is me,” I said as we pulled up in front of my house. “We’ll have to scheduled another studio day sometime soon. The label is gonna want these songs as soon as possible.”

“Maybe we could figure out a time and a date over dinner tomorrow night?” Gerald suggested.

I looked at him, confused, for a moment, like the naive fool I was. “If we’re both free for dinner, why don’t we just go to the studio then?”

Gerald laughed and rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to ask you out on a date, dummy.”

My mouth opened in mock offense. “Rude! I don’t think I’ll accept your dinner offer now!”

“Fine by me, we have to meet up in the studio anyways. I’ll just ask again.”

He smiled and I felt my heart racing seeing the way he looked at me. I smiled back at him before opening the door to his car. Before closing it, I leaned down to look at him one last time before saying, “Pick me up at 6:00 sharp, if you’re even a minute later I’ll lock my doors and go to bed.”

He laughed and nodded. “It’s a date then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, G.”

[footballxwrites]

A ben angst one please where ur together and u only find out hes going to chelsea through the media so u confront him and it ends in angst

*Didn’t proof read cos I’m a lazy sod, ignore any grammar mistakes and that lol x

“You better get packing then eh” you heard the voice of your best friend speak the moment you opened the front door, only for her to be stood with a huge smile across face and for some reason excited for you. “What are you on about now” you giggled, strolling through to the living room as she happily followed behind, chatting what sounded like a load of gibberish seeing as you hadn’t the first clue as to what she was on about, “we’ll surely you’re going down London with him- aw you’re gonna a London gal, leaving the northern roots behind-“ she rambled on as your Brian tried to process all the questions she was asking by the minute.

“First off how’s about telling me what you’re on about babe and why you thinking I’m moving to London all of a sudden” you laughed, stopping her in her tracks when she realised you clearly hadn’t been on social media today, “oh erm...I’ve put my foot right in it now” she nervously replied, hesitant to answer your question. “Come on you have to tell me now you’re worrying me” you said with furrowed eyebrows, knowing you were bout to get the Intel from her one way or another, “I mean these are just articles so it might not be for certain or anything” she quickly shrugged with a small laugh passing the phone for you to scroll through the hundred headlines including your boyfriend’s name.

Your heart dropped at the news of a transfer, it was bad enough seeing it meant you’d have to travel a couple more hours down the country and go even further south but it hurt to know the papers found out before you, he didn’t even have to decency to tell you at all never mind face to face. “I’m going to kill him” you said through gritted teeth, running a hand through your already messed up curls as your friend thought it’d be best to make tracks and leave you to wait for Ben to get home from probably his last training session at Leicester it would seem. “I’m sure he’ll have an explanation for all this, Ben’s not the type to keep things from you” your friend sorrowfully spoke, giving you a hug before heading for the door, “yeah I hope so” you sadly smiled, heartbroken to say the least.

——————————————

“Something smells good what you been cooking” a happy looking Benjamin smiled, waltzing into the dining room where you were sat at the table emotionless as ever. “When were you going to tell me, tomorrow, next week or maybe in a months time when you’ve got your bags packed and ready to go” you spat, shaking your head as you sat firm with folded arms, “it’s not like that I was planning to tell you, of course I was” he sighed, taking a seat at the table across from you, his voice trembly as ever, preparing to have the conversation he’s been putting off.

“I didn’t want to say anything till I knew it was for certain...and till i signed the contract” he quietly said, reaching a hand over the table to grab yours to which you avoided, too hurt to even look him in the eyes, “and I’m guessing that was today” you sniffed, putting two and two together as he softly nodded. “I know I should’ve told you, I didn’t really know how to” he gently said, slumping back on his chair as you raised your gaze and presented him with a nice big frown, “well Ben, you sit down and say I’m off to play for Chelsea football club because it’s something I’ve been wanting to do for ages, would you care to join me down London?” you joked in a huff, wondering that goes through that lads head at times if he can’t even tell his own girlfriend that’s he planning a transfer.

“It’ll be a fresh start, for the two of us” he smiled resting his arms on the table, carefree as usual and clearly not taking your feelings into account, “my job is here in Leicester, my life is HERE, how can I just throw it all away” you sighed with a sarcastic laugh as he looked disappointed by your reaction but I mean what did he expect, for you to just say ‘fuck my career, course I’ll come to London’.

“It’s a big place, London, more opportunities, higher pay...you’ll get a job no problem” he blurted out in a hope you might be persuaded by his efforts, “it’s not just about that Ben, I already live three hours away from my family and that’s hard as it is...seeing them what, four times a year if I’m lucky. Not to mention the only friends I have are here” you sobbed, not ready to make the sacrifice of seeing them even less. “But we- we can travel, get the train up. I know it’s a distance but we’ll make it work, I swear” he continued, springing ideas at you left right and centre, “I can’t...you know I love you Ben and would go to the moon and back for you, but there’s too much to lose. I’m sorry” you interrupted, taking his hands in yours as he sighed in defeat, devastated by your faint words.

“Right, well thanks a lot Y/N nice to know you’re a supportive girlfriend” he noted, pulling his hands from yours and leaning back in his chair once again with a groan, “what about me and my career? A new chapter in my football life is too much to ask for is it? You know if the roles were reversed I’d be already up them stairs packing the suitcases” he stated in disgust as you sat very much taken aback by his selfishness. “Don’t you dare make me out to be the bad guy Chilwell because we both know I’m not” you fought back, standing your ground as an awkward silence filled the air.

“It’s your choice, come to London with me and start fresh or stay here in Leicester alone, without our relationship” he said, clear as ever with the two options which completely tore you apart, having no desire whatsoever to go with him. “I’m not going Ben, I’m so sorry in that I can’t and I’ll wish you good luck with everything and my love for you will never go away...” you concluded, giving him a light kiss upon his head as he placed hand to your cheek and stroked it, the heartbreak evident in his eyes. “I love you too much to argue with your decision” he hastily laughed as you smiled, “I go the start of next month so I’ll leave the house to you, it’s better than selling it and the least I can do for you” he elaborated as you nodded before excusing yourself from the room, not quite believing your relationship of three years was at an end 💔

[liberty-barnes]

One

Sequel to "Two"

Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Summary: One man, one mistake, horrible consequences.

Warnings: angst, angst, angst, cheating, character death, I'M SORRY

Word Count: 1k words

Estimated Reading Time: 4 minutes

A/N: sooooo, since so many of you have been asking for a sequel... here it is... i guess... haha, this ought to be fun

i am not planning on doing a part three, this will be the second and final part, sorry babes <3

Masterlist 

Peter sighed for what felt like the hundredth time in the last five minutes. Amber was chatting away, arm linked with his as they walked the streets of New York.

"Can you believe she said that? Like, how dare she? Peter? Are you listening? Petey?"

He winced as he heard the nickname, the one you had given him two decades ago. Truth is, breaking up with you was his biggest regret, all because of some stupid office party, and stupid tequila.

He opened his eyes and groaned as the bright light burned its way past the safety of his eyelids. His head was throbbing, his mouth felt like he'd tried to eat cotton, and he had no memory of getting out of the office party.

He stared at the pink silk sheets of his bed and...

Wait...

Pink?

Silk?

He knew for a fact that his bed, your bed, didn't have pink sheets, much less silk. It was always blue cotton.

He felt movement on the other side of his bed and prayed to every god out there that the person moving was you, that he was home and you'd just bought some new sheets.

"Mm, good morning, handsome."

But that wasn't your voice.

He jumped out of bed in a flash, quickly scrambling for a corner of the bedsheet to hide his naked body as the blonde giggled.

"No need to cover yourself up, babe, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

She winked and got out of bed, seemingly unbothered by her state of undress as she walked over to him. He dodged her advances when she tried to kiss him and hurriedly put his clothes back on.

"What the fuck am I doing here, Amber?"

She rolled her eyes and put on her dressing-gown, tying it loosely around her waist.

"Isn't it obvious? We got drunk, things got heated, we slept together."

His heart broke at her every word, the guilt eating at him from the inside out.

"N-No, that can't be right, I-I have a girlfriend."

She scoffed.

"Well, you might wanna rethink your relationship, darling. Cause you seemed pretty sure about us last night."

"But we're getting married..."

"Your marriage's already doomed. If you cheated, then you don't love her, not really."

The words had haunted him all the way back home, where you were waiting for him, watching TV in a comfy sweater of his and calmly sipping at your tea.

"Hey, babe! Did you sleep alright? Josh sent me a text saying you weren't feeling too well so you just slept over at his since it's closer."

He knew he should tell you what happened, be honest, and beg for your forgiveness.

But he didn't.

"Yeah, it was okay, just gonna take a shower now."

He pecked your lips, not wanting to seem suspicious, and let that same sentence eat at him while the water cascaded down his back.

If you cheated, then you don't love her, not really.

"Wait let's stop there, I wanna buy the new Fashion."

He followed her to the newsstand and watched as she searched for her beloved magazine while he absentmindedly glazed over the newspaper.

"Again?"

You all but screamed, staring at your fiancé.

"I'm sorry but I'm working towards a big promotion right now, I need those extra hours."

"It's the third time I'm having to reschedule this cake testing, Peter. It's like you don't even want to get married!"

You threw your hands in the air, staring him down.

"Why does a stupid cake matter so much anyway? Choose whatever you want, I don't care!"

He was starting to raise his voice as well.

"It's not the cake that matters, it's the fact that you're not the least bit involved in planning this wedding. I've had to choose flowers, decorations, arrangements, seating charts, everything without you. Is it too much to ask for you to help me at least a little bit?"

He shook his head and picked up his backpack.

"If it's getting too much for you, hire a wedding planner, I told you it's what you should have done from the start."

"I don't want a fucking wedding planner, I want my fiancé to help me!"

"You're being ridiculous. I'm off to work, don't wait up for me, I probably won't be back till late."

He slammed the door behind him and got into his car, shooting Amber a text.

'I'm on my way, hope you're wearing that new set I got you.'

He was reading the headlines in a newspaper when the vendor caught his attention.

"Shame, innit?"

He lifted a brow in question and the man pointed at the bottom left corner.

Young woman jumps off Manhattan bridge, leaves behind a three-month-old son.

"She was young too, only twenty-four. Wonder what made her take the leap?"

He nodded along to what the vendor was saying and flipped the pages until he reached the detailed report.

He closed the trunk, suitcases inside, and looked through the living room window, locking eyes with your tearful ones. For a moment, he wanted to turn back. Apologize for all he's done. Beg for you to take him back.

If you cheated, then you don't love her, not really.

He got in the driver's seat and made his way to Amber's apartment, cringing as her hand squeezed his thigh.

"Finally."

(Y/n) (Y/l/n), 24, took her own life in the late evening on the 17th. Witnesses report having tried to save her, talking to her and asking her to come down, but she decided to jump. She leaves behind her three-month-old son Benjamin, currently in the care of her older sister. Sources say she had battling depression for over a year after...

"Peter?"

Amber's voice sounded distant in his ears, all the could focus on was the words on the paper.

Took her own life

Three-month-old son

Depression

"I did this."

It was his fault. He's the reason you're dead. Why your son is gonna grow up with his mother, why his son...

He had a son.

"I have a son."

And it all went black.

so, that’s it, short little sequel is done, no i will not make a part 3, yes that is final

(i feel like i’m scolding my kids, please don’t think i’m scolding you, i love you guys <3)

anyway, hope you all liked it, don’t forget to comment/like/reblog if you feel like it!

have a nice day and be kind to others

-Love, Miah 🤍

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

PERMA TAG

@jeezkiddo​ @officiallyunofficialperson​  @beananacake​ @theunderlier @harrysleftchelseaboot​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @onebigolemess​ @samoney69​ @agirlwithpointlessideas​ @ddaawwssoonn​ @inhumanwithpowers​ @imagineshere-forall​ @stiles-banshees​ @orowit​ @spideynut​ @peterspideyy​@deathofmissjackson​ @parkersbliss​ @ephemeral-limerences​ @write-from-the-heart​ @cardboard-ben​ @my-alignment-is-bisexual @mendes-marvel​ @timotayswriter​ @inthecornerchair​ @lovelynerdytraveler​ @niallssweetheart22​ @incorrect-things​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @harishaanne​ @ellamw04 @bisexual-disappointment​ @onelovesr​ @ellyseveronica​ @sovereignparker​ @notsosmexy​

PETER PARKER TAG

@sweetiesangster​ @markleehee​ @juliebean247​ @quechulitaaa​ @bubblegumbarnes​ @sofiaconlaz​ @bellaaa321-blog​ @parkerpetertingle​ @emily-louise-hynes @clara-licht​ @ekelly2015​ @inlovewithmobtom​ @quaksonhehe​ @danicarosaline​ @tutuabby28​ @sovereignparker​ @spn67-sister​ @t-monosapiens-h @kayleypaige2233​ @galaxystern08​ @highlydisfunctional1​ @jillanaholland​ @zeusmyster​ @sirtommyholland​ @a-singleboat​ @allthisfortommy​ @middevil456 @kdotcxz​ @perspectiveparker​

MARVEL TAG

 @emily-louise-hynes @arts-ismything​ @peachyafshawn​ @cathwritestragediesnotsins​ @spn67-sister​ @t-monosapiens-h @galaxystern08​ @highlydisfunctional1​ @jillanaholland​ @hyluas @ravenagrimes @captainbuckyy​ @kaylig02​ @crazyassbitch-things-blog​ @sharenaloveyoux​ @tacobacoyeet​ @andycanbeemotional​ @angelicromanoff

[color-me-malfoy]

The Train To Apparent Death

(don’t worry, no one actually dies)

Draco Malfoy x Non-Slytherin Reader

Summary: You’re lucky enough to get a ride with Draco Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express, but madness lies along the way.

Platform 9¾ was still Platform 9¾.

Just like every other day at the Hogwarts Express, first-years still bidding goodbye to their parents, much older students rushing in to sit with their friends, lots of mothers and fathers asking if they brought their wands, their books, their robes, their everything.

The difference was, there were more words of warning.

“Dear, always stick with someone, Sirius Black is on the loose!”

“Don’t go wandering in the middle of the night or Sirius Black will bite your fingers off!”

“Oh, golly, I’m having second thoughts about it now that Sirius Black could be anywhere!”

You subtly covered your ears as you walked past the crowd of sobbing and waving parents and stepped onboard.

You looked in the windows of each compartment, looking for one that wasn’t too crowded. The first had a bunch of first-years, trying to show off their magic abilities, which were none, thanks for asking. The second had a girl your age reading an upside-down book, talking and singing to herself, which you absolutely did not need.

The third cart had just one sleeping man, his face covered with a newspaper, laying sideways, occupying the entire seat. No thanks, I’ll pass, you scrunched your nose in disgust.

The fourth one was empty, except for a boy on the corner, his face covered by the cover of The Daily Prophet he was reading. You opened the door and walked halfway in with your trunk.

“Could I sit here with you? Everywhere else is full, so-”

Your words got lost in your throat as the boy put the paper down and stared back at you with intimidating grey eyes.

It was Draco Malfoy.

“-or, I could just find someplace else.” Your voice cracked as you spun around to leave. “Have a nice d-”

“No, I suppose I could tolerate just one person for the train ride. Consider yourself lucky. Get in and shut the door.”

Did Draco Malfoy just let you sit with him? For an entire bloody train ride?

“I-” your face heated up. “W-Well… thanks then.”

You slid your trunk under your seat and sat down across him as he turned his attention back to his newspaper.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?” A high-pitched voice made you look up. It was the trolley witch with the sweets trolley, which was your favorite part of the train ride.

“I’ll have two bars of chocolate and a sherbet lemon, thanks.” You paid for the sweets as she handed them to you.

“Do you want anything?” you asked Draco, but he only responded by rolling his eyes and blocking your view of his face with the paper.

“You know what? I’ll take a chocolate frog too.” You paid for it and thanked her, and after you closed the door, you slid the chocolate frog next to him.

What you didn’t know was that he pulled the newspaper over his face because he could hardly stop from smiling.

You looked up at the headline of his paper and yelped in surprise as you came face-to-face with the screaming image of Sirius Black.

“Mother of Merlin!” you cried.

Draco put his newspaper down with no trace of the grin, in its place an annoyed grimace.

“What?” he asked blatantly.

“Sorry, it’s just- I…” you looked away and pointed at the paper. “…Sirius Black.”

“Oh,” he folded the newspaper and went back to reading, the headline page covered by the other pages.

“Thanks,” you opened your bag and took out your copy of Newt Scamander’s Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them.

A few hours passed, and neither of you said a word to another, until he put his paper down and looked at the time, and you were able to stay calm as the image of Sirius Black came into view once more.

“Do you think Sirius Black could get into Hogwarts?” you asked just above a whisper.

He stared out the window, and you were just about to drop the conversation until he spoke softly.

“My father said the Ministry’s in charge of preventing that,” he said, without glancing at you.

“But isn’t the Ministry the people who run Azkaban?” you asked again. “I mean, if Black’s escaped them once, he can sneak right under their noses again too.”

“Are you scared, L/N?” he smirked, still not looking at you.

“Yes, of course, he’s killed people, so it’s natural to fear for my life,” you pulled your sleeves over your hands, “I’d rather be scared than apathetic.”

“A pathetic what?” he joked, and you failed to hide your laugh. But you shut your mouth as his face suddenly grew serious.

“Father said the Ministry’s setting up tighter security throughout the school perimeter,” he sat straighter. “He says even Dumbledore hesitated for a while. So, there’s nothing to worry about, is there?”

“I suppose not,” you mumbled.

There was a few more moments of silence until the train rumbled, slowed down, and shook to a stop.

Draco stood up and grabbed his luggage. “Oh, great! I can finally get off this bloody-”

His words turned into a shout of terror as all the lights went off.

“Merlin, what is going on! Wait till my father-”

“Malfoy-”

“-hears about this! By Salazar’s beard, he’ll probably have me study somewhere else than this pathetic-”

“Malfoy, y-”

“-pig sty! He’ll probably have Dumbledore removed fr-”

“Draco, please stay quiet, you’re making it worse,” you pleaded.

He snapped around as he heard the slight tremor in your voice.

“What is it?” He asked, trying to keep the concern from showing in his words.

“No, no,” you replied. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Stay put. I’ll get you some water.” He cursed himself as he stood back up. Why was he doing all this for you?

You heard the compartment door slide open and pulled your knees to your chest. After a while, he came back with a glass of water. He took something out of his bag, and light filled the room as he whispered, “Lumos.”

You took the water and took a light sip, but stared at the water with confusion.

Your breath was visible, and the water in your cup formed cold mist.

You turned to the compartment door, and on its window ice formed, spreading like a web until it filled the entire door and even enveloped the knob.

“Draco?” Your voice shook as you moved crawled further away from the door.

“Wha-” he stopped in his steps as he saw the ice forming on the door.

The two of you stared at the frozen door in silence until he snorted.

“It’s probably just some snow, I’ll wipe it off.” He said, but even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Draco, no-”

He didn’t listen to you as he walked over, pushing the door open as some shards of ice fell to the floor, turning into puddles of water.

“Malfoy, would you stop?”

You pushed him away from the door, slamming it. But your eyes widened and all breath left you as you took in the figure standing very still right outside the door. It was a creature covered in grey, shredded material, and the only thing separating you and this monstrosity was a single pane of glass.

It gave out heavy breaths, and fog appeared on the window. You didn’t realize the tears trickling down your face until they turned cold on your cheeks. You wanted to move backward but you couldn’t; your feet were planted on the ground, telling you if you moved it might not be so patient with killing you.

It gave out one last exhale, the grey cloth fluttering dangerously as the entire door filled with fog. When the fog receded, the creature was no longer there. But you still didn’t budge.

“Bloody hell,” you heard Draco’s voice behind you, but you didn’t turn around.

“So that’s what a dementor is? Merlin, that thing was ghastly! If this doesn’t keep Sirius Black out of the school I don’t know what will- Y/N? Y/N, it’s gone. Y/N, don’t stand there like a-”

“What the hell was that?” You croaked, your voice harsh.

“Y/N, it’s gone,” he chuckled. “there’s absolutely nothing to worry about!”

You felt someone grab your arm, and you tried to pull away, but you were face-to-face with Draco.

“Merlin, you’re cold as ice. And you’ve gone white! Y/N, what’s wrong-” He stared at your tear-stained face for a second, then his expression changed.

“Oh, no,” he brushed his finger across your face. “Hey, Y/N, sit down.”

You didn’t move, but squinted hard to clear your vision. He sighed, then you felt one arm rubbing your back and lightly pushing you down onto the seat. He took your hands in his, blew a little on them, then massaged your palms with his thumbs. You felt yourself slowly come back to your senses, and steadied your breathing as he looked on.

As the two of your locked gazes again, he took you in his arms, rubbing circles into your back.

“Wha… What was that, Draco?” you asked.

“That was a dementor, it’s the kind of creature that guards Azkaban. Those are the things that the Ministry sent to Hogwarts to keep watch at the gates.” He frowned, then turned to the door as a knock startled you.

Draco groaned, then stood up and strutted over to the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Professor Remus Lupin, your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

You looked up and realized it was the man you had seen in one of the compartments.

“Oh, well, what is it?”

“I’m just here to warn you about the dementors. They won’t harm you unless you’re Sirius Black.”

“Oh, thanks a bunch, professor,” Draco rolled his eyes, “Thanks for telling us they’re harmless after a student went into a panic attack because of them.”

“Oh, dear, is she alright?” Professor Lupin looked past Draco and at you.

“I’m fine professor, just a little cold,” you said.

“Oh, and she’s cold, professor, aside from the fact she went ghost-pale and couldn’t move, professor,” he added sarcastically.

You were about to tell him it was fine, when you felt him drape something around your shoulders. It was his robe. You snuggled deeper into it and looked back up at Professor Lupin.

“But anyways, I’m fine. How are the other students?”

“Oh, Mr. Potter’s soul was nearly sucked out by the dementor, he lost consciousness for a while. Which reminds me, do any of you have a cloth or a towel?”

Draco rolled his eyes at the mention of Potter, but looked back at you as you almost fell off the seat reached for your bag and rummaged through it. He pushed your hand away and knelt down to you.

“What are you doing, L/N?”

“You heard him, Harry needs a towel.”

“Well, I’ll get it, sit down, you just looked like Death a few minutes ago.”

He got a towel from your bag and handed it to Professor Lupin.

“Ah, Professor,” you sat up, sticking your hand in your pocket. “I heard chocolate helps relieve the pain. Maybe this could help?”

As you handed Professor Lupin the chocolate, Draco Malfoy stared at you in awe. You had just been so terrified just a few minutes ago, yet now you were more concerned of someone else’s wellbeing. He was so puzzled. He expected to fall in love with someone who was as spunky as him, someone who was as cold as he was, yet his heart chose you, someone who he could never imagine to be bad.

What the bloody hell was going on with him.

“Thank you, Y/N, I look forward to seeing you in class,” Professor Lupin smiled.

“Oh, and five points to H/H.”

You smiled weakly, then as Lupin left the compartment, you looked back at Draco, who was staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“What? Do… Do I still look like Death?” You laughed nervously.

“I…” Draco opened his mouth to speak, but closed it immediately, and shook his head while smiling.

“What?” You sat up as he shuffled in next to you.

“It’s just… do you know how beautiful you are?”

That took you aback. It left you stunned for a second.

“Why would you say that?” You were nothing short of confused.

“Because… I always saw you as one of the prettiest girls of our year, but the only thing that outshines that is your heart. I just saw you nearly die of horror five minutes ago, but you just… gave Lupin that chocolate instead of keeping it to yourself.”

“But Potter needed it more-”

“Potter, Schmotter.” He rolled his eyes. “What I’m saying is, I’m madly in love with you.”

You stared at him, speechless.

There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Of course, if you don’t feel the same way-”

You leaned forward and kissed him. Not actually kissed him, but a temporary brush of your lips on his; slow enough for him to stutter in surprise, but too fast for you to even register it in your brain.

He turned to you and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Did you just kiss me?”

You suddenly realized the danger of what you did and practically flew to the other side of the compartment.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” you stammered. “I’m sorry-”

But you were cut off when he pulled you up by the shoulders and leaned in.

“If you’re going to kiss Draco Malfoy, you have to do it absolutely perfectly,” he whispered hoarsely, “As you know, all Malfoys settle for nothing but the best.”

He pressed his lips to yours, and your hands found their way to his neck and up to his hair as he pulled you closer by the waist.

It felt like he wouldn’t pull away for a long time -but then again, neither would you- if the train hadn’t stopped.

“Well, a-are we dating now?” you asked unsurely.

“Not yet,” he pecked you on the nose. “This Saturday, Courtyard, wear something nice.”

You smiled.

“Of course, Draco,” you winked. “As you said, all Malfoys settle for nothing but the best.”

=

You and Draco sat down at your respective table wearing the biggest smiles on your faces.

Your friends were talking and chattering happily, but as they turned to you their jaws hit the table.

“Wh-what’s the matter?” You asked.

Your best friend pulled on your arm.

“You’re wearing a Slytherin robe.”

=

A/N: Now y’all know why Draco was concerned about Harry fainting ;)))

[the-fiction-witch]

The Russian and The American P24 It’s Okay To Be Scared

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT      COUPLE: BENNY WATTS X READER  RATING: ADORABLE

I smiled as I looked though the shopping helping Benny to put it all away now we had finished our magazine, "Ohh I got you the news paper, Help you keep in the loop given you haven't been out of here in.... A while" He laughed, handing me the paper and kissing my cheek as he did I smiled, taking the paper and leaving him to do the rest of it "Go on then, read away. Ohh and tell me what the weather's going to be the next couple of days I'm sick to fucking death of this icy weather" he explained

I nodded sitting on the little chair at the table flicking open the paper seeing the weather report at the top below the date "Monday rain, Tuesday Rain, Wednesday..."

"Let me guess rain?"

"No, Little grey cloud"

"So maybe rain"

"Maybe rain" I laughed

"Alright, Might have to put a few more dollars on the meter for the heating" He explained

"It might be worth it" I nodded reading the headlines "Hunt intensifies for missing Moscow chess champion" I read

'All forces are on the hunt for the Russian national Y/n y/l/n missing still after the chess championship, All though the soviets claim no responsibility, many are starting to fear her involvement as a spy or infiltrator sending information to moscow, however the Soviets seem to be pointing the finger squarely at the CIA in there believe she was kidnapped to prevent her beating the American champion Benny watts in order to preser american Superiority, or that she had been taken by the CIA as a hostage and forced to give away information to the US. This is not helping the current level of tension between the two nations as both are beginning to theorize with neither moving on there statements' I read 'all though rumors are that Soviet Spy's have already entered america looking for her"

"Y/n, Stop it" Benny warned taking the paper away from me "You're just going to worry yourself"

"Benny, what if they have got spys looking for me?"

"Even if there is They are not going to find you hiding in a basement in new york are they?" He laughs "There not going to be looking for you here, let alone hiding out with me"

"What if they do?" I asked "What if they interrogate you?" I asked "what if the CIA demands you hand me over?"

"Y/n, Y/n, Honeybunny calm down" He says holding my hands "knowone is going to find you, nothing bad is going to happen, I promised you didn't I? I promise nothing bad is going to happen to you."

"You really promise?"

"I swear on my life honeybunny"

"Okay, I'm sorry Benny..."

"It's alright, those papers make money out of fear mongering, they massage the truth till its scary enough a headline to sell papers" He explained "But it's okay if your scared"

"I'm not scared Benny"

"I know you're not" He smiled kissing my nose "It's okay to be scared y/n. But I promised my sweet little honeybunny. Nothing bad is going to happen, so you have nothing to be scared off" He reassured "Here, Read the comics would you y/n?" He smiled flipping though some pages and handing it to me on the comics

"Okay benny" I nodded

[certainpoetryartisan]

Love Holiday: Raan and Liza

Alaska was cold, but not so cold that it would breakaway the warmth which engulfed my heart. The warmth of unrequited love, the sacred intimacy I shared with the nincompoop whose muscular arms were wrapped around me......his face on my shoulder as I heard him snore softly while i watched the beautiful snow shine in moonlight. 

“Babe why you still up?” Raan asked sleepily..

I giggled to myself  and wrapped his arms rather forcefully around my body. He felt Safe......he felt home.

“Lizza?” 

“Gosh Raan what?”

all of the sudden, he jolted up and somehow he was on top of me and smirking, proud of his little victory. then he leaned closer...his  eyes full of love...he kissed my forehead.

“Now Lizza tell me whats going in that brain of yours”

“what if I dont tell you?” I challenged him.

He looked at me with his eyes narrowed which felt like forever. After some time he cocked up his brow and smirked down on me. then he got up and started dancing around.....without music.

“Raan its 3 AM in the morning....what the hell?”

“Ah Lizz I know it. you are thinking how could you get this lucky” his finger gestering to himself.

“You are an idiot” i said...laughing.

“Yet you love me” and with that he jumped onto the bed...tickling my dear life out of me.

“Raan stooooooooooop” i finally managed to say between taking breaths and laughing. 

“then tell me whats going on in your mind” Raan pleaded. Still in a position which screamed that if I didnt tell him....I would end up Dying; tickled by her boyfriend. How would the news paper headline look like? 

* a woman from Iceland dies of being tickled by death by her boyfriend; Police Departments have dived deep in investigation*

“LIZZIEEEEEEEEEEEE* Raan screamed in whispers....bringing me back to reality......our reality......

I exhaled.......tears fighting to break out from their cages......my heart swelling with ecstasy my soul yearning for this nincompoop’s warm embrace.

“Raan.....so many years.... so many trials and tribulations....so many times...so many people tried breaking us......i doubted you...we fought...we screamed.....yet you stayed .....so that we could be us. so that we could get that “us” working....Raan thank you.....Raan you were there for me when i was heartbroken Raa-” By this time Tears had broken free, they were no longer prisoners of my eyes...but who freed them were my emotions and those crazy neuro hormones and oxytocin which literally in every milli-liter of them had Raan’s essence embedded in them.......and i couldnt speak anymore. My irrational sentiments had taken full control over me. 

Raan looked at me....dumbfounded....eyes all round and big with surprise........as if...as if he had been knocked out of this world.....his shoulders slumped.....his forehead...full of wrinkles.....like all those times when he was trying focus hard on something. 

And now.....all of the sudden he regained his composure....like....as if he had broken out of some kind of trance......he straightened himself up...sat beside me and helped me get up.

“Lizza go wash your face. You know I hate it when you cry. you know that right?” Raan told me sternly as he held my arm and helping me get up.....without meeting my eyes. 

when he was sure that I would not fall or lose my balance...he left my arm and walked towards the bathroom, opened the bathroom door and gestured me to get inside. I looked at him.....with concern.....he always looked me in my eyes...but not this time. Why?

I went inside the bathroom and locked it from inside. i was shocked. shocked at Raan’s indifferent behavior. What was wrong with Raan? My Raan? I cried some more. all my emotions...which i always kept bottled up inside....just came out.....why? I had never allowed myself to be this weak...then why today? on this holiday? 

i couldnt be this weak. i had to be strong...for Raan, for my family....for Juni, for lina....arent they my world? my friends and my family?

I got up and went to wash my face up....i quickly washed my face and splashed more water on my eyes....I had always hated how my eyes had stung after I cried.

after what seemed like eternity.... I finally had the courage to open the door and go out. With my waves jumping around my face (Juni litreally forced me too and Lina gladly did them) I got out of the bathroom. Inhaling a long breath and exhaling.....I finally closed the bathroom door behind me and forced a smile on my face. i was always so good at masking my true self. 

“Raan?”

no answer

I called him again.

he must have gone out to the bar of hotel to relax. I thought to myself.

I need fresh air to relax too. i told to myself. I looked at the balcony of our hotel room. Grabbing a warm sweater....his jacket......and throwing it on my shoulders...i slid the door and stepped onto the balcony and took a long a deep breath. 

“Maybe my aunt is right... I do need yoga to calm myself down....I will enroll in a good yoga and meditation classes as soon as I go back home” I said to myself out loud.

But I slowly calmed myself down as breeze hit my face and made my hair fly. I liked the breeze.....coz I was like breeze. Always going with the flow and taking where the destiny would take me...and yes...enjoying it and appreciating it.....ofcourse.

My head was buried deep in my thoughts when I felt something very soft and velvety on my hair and face. I picked one of those many small delicate things which was sitting on my nose and scrutinized it. It was a rose petal. I turned around and more rose petals hit my face gently.....Raan looked at me and gave a little peck on my lips. I was in a trance......trying to figure out what he was doing.....and then...it happened.......

He bent on one knee and took out the red box and opened it.......it had the most beautiful ring....in it....Hold..on.....what?

“Raan dont tell me its the same ring I had marveled when we where in turkey!”

I stared at the nincompoop who was bending down...in front of me biting his lips to conceal his smirk. 

he looked at me with that mischievous look in his eyes.......

“Raan.....”

“ I knew you were the woman I saw my future with....”

“Raan.....you waited to propose for 3 years?” it was more of a confused question to me than to him.

“ I saw how much u loved the ring....so i bought it...I thought i should propose you....but.....i couldnt find the right time for it...till this night.....”

“Babe...”

“Lizzie...will you marry me?”

“IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION?” I screamed on him as I jumped at him to hug him...but he lost the balance and we fell. 

“HO HO HO  love......i am taking that as a Yes.” He said as he slipped the ring in my finger....while we still were on the floor.

we stayed on the floor, me in his arms admiring the ring....my engagement ring while he just played with my hair.

“you know what Raan?”

“mmhmmmm?”

“You are a Gadha”

“And where did you learn that from LIza?” 

“Someone taught me that years ago”

“And who exactly is that idiot?”

“choose your words wisely Raan”

“Tell me already?”

“ Juni” 

“oh no....I-.....hey love......lets not mention this in front of her?”

i immediately rolled out of his arms and cocked my eyebrow and imitated his  smirk......

“And exactly why should I hide things from my bestie?”

“dude.......she scars me ...please....”

I smirked at him. “Lets call this a night”

[minijenn]

Keys to the Kingdom Preview

Fuck I finally managed to pull something together for this chapter (I mean I’m not even blaming myself this time, grief hits ya hard kids :|) Anyway this is mostly just establishing movie stuff but it does feature some of Sora and Kairi being Cute Idiots in Love so there’s that. Enjoy!

***

“Oh! Hey there, ya’ll,” the waitress greets the couple with a friendly smile. “What’ll you two be having this morning?”

“We’ll take whatever those things are,” Sora points to the nearby pastries while Kairi nods her eager agreement. 

The waitress laughs, placing a plate down on the counter before them. “There you go, one order of the tastiest beignets in the entire crescent city.”

“Thanks!” the couple chimes before partaking of their first bites of the sweet treats. And sure enough, they’re quick to discover that the beignets more than live up to their delectable aroma. 

“Oh! These are delicious!” Kairi grins, thoroughly satisfied by their decadent sweetness. 

“Yeah, they’re sooo good!” Sora agrees, mouth half-full. “What did you say these things are called again? Bogies?”

“Beignets,” the waitress corrects, chuckling. “Ya’ll ain’t from around here, are you?”

Sora and Kairi exchange a slight, nervous glance at this, both of them knowing well just how important maintaining the world order is, even on a large group mission such as this. “Uh… w-what makes you think that?” Sora asks with something of a forced smile. 

The waitress shrugs, still smiling. “Lots of folks come in from out of town around Mardi Gras time. It’s our busiest season, for sure.”

“...Mardi huh?” Sora frowns, completely confused. 

“Land’s sakes, you two really aren’t from around here…” the waitress paused, hands on her hips. “You two lovebirds got names?”

Sora finishes off the last of the beignets by splitting it evenly with Kairi. He offers the waitress a friendly smile as he does. “I’m Sora.”

“And I’m Kairi,” she nods cordially just shy of enjoying her half of the treat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” the waitress returns just as warmly. “The name’s Tiana. And between you and me,” she drops her voice down to a whisper and the couple leans in to curiously whisper. “If you both think those beignets are good, just you wait until I open up my restaurant one of these days down on the waterfront. What I’ll whip up there will put these ol’ pastries to shame, guaranteed.”

“Really?” Sora asks, impressed. “When’s your restaurant opening? We’d love to come try it out.”

“Oh, well, uh…” Tiana glances aside, biting her lip. “That’s the thing. I still don’t have enough for the down payment for the place, but I’m getting really close. With some good old fashioned hard work--and all the tips I’ve been saving up over the years--then I’ll finally save up that last little bit, then I’ll finally be one step closer to making my Daddy’s dream come true…” She lets out a wistful sigh as she pulls something out of her apron pocket, a bright illustration of the kind of sophisticated restaurant she had in mind. The restaurant that’s always been her vision for “Tiana’s Place” ever since she was just a child. 

“You sound like you’re very dedicated to making that dream happen,” Kairi notes, inspired. 

“Yeah, I hope you can really soon,” Sora says just as encouragingly. “And once it does, save us a table. We’ll be some of your first customers!”

“I’ll be sure to do exactly that,” Tiana offers the couple a thankful nod as she heads off to continue serving the diner’s other patrons. It isn’t long before one of the cafe’s most common--and most wealthy--regulars happens to come in for his usual breakfast treat. “Morning, Mr. La Bouff,” Tiana greets him casually. 

“Good mornin’, Tiana,” the sugar baron returns, taking a seat at a table by the window.

“Congratulations on being voted king of the Mardi Gras parade,” Tiana says as she serves up some coffee to another guest. 

“Caught me completely by surprise,” Mr. La Bouff smirks, whipping out the morning paper. Naturally, one of the front page headlines features his victory as king of the upcoming parade. “For the fifth year in a row! Now, how about I celebrate with-”

“Beignets?”  Tiana fills in, setting down a plate of pastries in front of him. “Seems like they’re the talk of the town this morning. I’ve got a fresh batch waiting just for you.”

“Well, keep ‘em comin’ till I pass out!” Mr. La Bouff exclaims as he happily begins to scarf them down. At the same time, his young daughter, a girl the same age as Tiana, clad in all the finest fashion her father’s money can buy, rushes in, beside herself with excitement that the entire diner can hear as soon as she enters. 

“Oh, Tia!” she calls, running over to the waitress. “Tia, Tia, Tia, did ya hear the news?!”

“Hey, Charlotte-” Tiana attempts to greet her, only to be swiftly cut off as her friend joins her father at the table. 

“Tell her, Big Daddy!” Charlotte cries with a huge grin, frantically fidgeting in her seat. “Tell her!”

“Oh, yeah,” Big Daddy chuckles, amused by his daughter’s usual verve. “Ya see, Prince Naveen-”

“Prince Naveen of Maldonia is comin’ here to New Orleans!” Charlotte practically screams, snatching the newspaper right out of her father’s hands. “Oh, isn’t he the bee’s knees?! Tell her what you did, Big Daddy!”

“Well, I invited-”

“Big Daddy invited the prince to our masquerade ball tonight!” Charlotte takes over once more, awash in obvious delight. “Tell her what else you did, Big Daddy! Go on!”

Big Daddy pauses for a moment, expecting his daughter to cut him off once more. When she surprisingly doesn’t he proceeds. “...And he’s staying-”

“And he’s staying-” Charlotte is the one that’s interrupted this time as Big Daddy abruptly shoves a beignet into her mouth so he can speak instead. 

“And he’s stayin’ in our house as my personal guest,” the sugar baron finishes, with a broad, proud smile. 

“Oh, Lottie, that’s swell,” Tiana grins back at her friend as she continues working all the while. “A little word of advice? My mama always said the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Charlotte gasps in realization as Tiana serves Big Daddy up another plate of beignets, coming up with a daring scheme right on the spot. “That’s it!” she bolts up out of her seat, beignet in hand as she runs over to Tiana, engulfing her in a tight hug. “Tia! You’re a bona fide genius! I’m gonna need about 500 of your man-catching beignets for my ball tonight.” She runs back over to Big Daddy, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a large stack of bills, which she eagerly pushes into Tiana’s hands. “Will this about cover it?”

Tiana starts, dumbfounded by the huge sum Charlotte hands over to her. By all accounts it's more money than she’s really seen in her entire life, much less had to her own name. And combined with everything she’s managed to save up thus far, it’s more than enough to cover the remaining cost she’s been struggling to pull together. “T-this should cover it just fine, Lottie,” Tiana smiles in rising elation. “This is it! I’m getting my restaurant!”

Charlotte cheers, hugging her once more before she runs back over to Big Daddy. At the same time, Sora and Kairi don’t hesitate to offer their best wishes to the waitress, having just witnessed the entire scene play out while eating their beignets. 

“Wow! Congratulations, Tiana!” Kairi exclaims brightly. 

“Yeah, looks like we’ll be eating at your restaurant sooner than you think,” Sora laughs, just as happy for her. 

“Thanks, ya’ll,” Tiana returns, holding the cash Charlotte just gave her close. “I guess dreams are coming true for everyone this Mardi Gras. Both for me, and for Lottie,” she chuckles as she nods back over to her best friend. 

“Tonight my prince is finally comin’!” Charlotte squeals as she just about drags her father out of the diner. “And I sure as heck ain’t lettin’ him go!” With that, the La Bouffs leave, and with their beignets finished off, it isn’t long before Sora and Kairi do the same so they can rejoin their fellow lights. They pay for the pastries and bid Tiana a fond farewell and another round of congratulations as they head out, hand-in-hand. 

Though as they do, they fail to notice a man sitting alone in the corner of the diner; a man practically drenched in deep, dark shadows, keeping a close eye not only on the latest happenings around town, but on the peculiar young man he just happened to spot with an involuntary veil of darkness hovering over his own heart. Darkness that the doctor already starts plotting to use to his advantage.

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch. 5

GIF not mine. Credit goes to owner.

Summary: The last golden ticket has apparently been found, breaking Rose’s heart for Charlie. Harry sees her at work, and makes her an offer. Then, Rose takes Charlie to the shop to get him another Wonka bar, where something rather lucky happens.

Tagging: @holdmeicant​ @willymywonkers​

Rose was dressed in her uniform, ready for her last day of work. But Charlie didn't know that. He knew something was wrong, judging by the sad grin on her face, but he didn't want to push her into telling him anything she didn't want to. The two of them stood in front of the cafe, but before Charlie could part for school, Rose stopped him.

"I have something for you, Charlie" Rose smiled at him. "Well, it's from Mrs Mason" She pulled out the Wonka bar. Charlie's eyes lit up as he took it. He opened it up, but like last time, this bar had no golden ticket. Rose's smile dropped. "Oh, I'm sorry, Charlie"

"It's alright, Rosie" Charlie assured her. "I have the chocolate at least" He split the bar into two, and gave one half to his sister.

"Thank you, Charlie" Rose said as she took the chocolate. "And I think I have a little extra saved up. We'll walk over to the candy shop after school and have one more go at it?"

Charlie nodded. "I'd like that, Rosie" The two siblings hugged each other, before Charlie made his way off to school.

Rose entered the shop, immediately being greeted by Mrs Mason. "Hello, dear. Any luck finding a ticket?"

"Not yet" Rose answered. She went behind the counter as she ate the piece of chocolate Charlie offered her. She even broke off a piece, and gave it to Mrs Mason. "But, I have enough to buy Charlie a bar after school. Maybe his luck still has yet to come"

"You blow on that money before you spend it" Mrs Mason told Rose. "That's what they do in Vegas to the dice, you know. Supposed to give them luck"

******

Rose had nothing to do so she sat a one of the tables reading a newspaper. She came across a page in the paper.

Wonka's Final Golden Ticket. Found in Russia.

Rose could feel her heart break into a million little pieces. What was she going to tell Charlie? She promised that she would find him a golden ticket. And now that promise was broken. And to make things worse, Harry had come into the store, looking more smug than usual.

"Well, well" He started, joining Rose at the table. "Looks like the last ticket was found. And it wasn't found by Charlie"

"You don't need to wave that in my face!" Rose said, getting up from the table.  Harry grabbed her wrist again, preventing her from walking away.

"Rose, please just sit and let me talk" Harry started. Rose wasn't in the mood to fight with him, so she sat down in her seat again, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What?"

"It's clear things aren't getting any better. Today is your last day here, and rumour has it that your father has been replaced by a machine at that toothpaste factory. And I know your planning to spend the last of what money you saved up on Charlie" Harry was treading on very thin ice right now, but Rose had to admit that he was right. Things were just going to get worse. Harry took Rose's hands in his, and stroked the back of one of her hands with his thumb. "I'm going to ask you again. Marry me, Rose, and I promise that I will make things better for you and your family. Your family can move in with mine. We have a big house. There's enough room for your parents, grandparents, and Charlie. They'll all have their own rooms. You won't have to live off of cabbage soup anymore. You can have pancake breakfasts and turkey dinners. You just have to agree to be my wife"

******

Charlie came by to the cafe just as Rose's final shift was finished. She said her goodbyes to Mrs Mason before meeting Charlie outside. The two of them grabbed hands before walking down to the candy shop. "Rosie?" Charlie piped up, making his sister look at him. "Are you alright? You're unusually quiet"

"Did you hear about the last ticket?" Rose asked. "It was found in Russia"

Charlie nodded, a disappointed look on his face. "I heard someone reading the paper on my way to school this morning"

"Well, I have this" Rose reached into her pocket and took out the money. "Just because the tickets are gone doesn't mean you can't have some more chocolate"

Charlie's frown turned into a grin. "Thank you, Rosie" The two of them walked for a few more minutes until they came to the candy store. They both walked in and approached the counter. Rose handed the money to Charlie so he could present it to the shopkeep. "One Wonka Whipple-Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight please"

The shopkeep took the money and gave a bar to Charlie. Charlie began opening up the bar just as the woman beside the Bucket's put down the newspaper. Rose glanced at it, and went wide eyed when she saw the headline. It was completely different from the one she saw this morning.

Russian Ticket a Fake. Still One Ticket Left.

"The nerve of some people" the woman said to the shopkeep.

"I know" the shopkeep said. "Forging a ticket, come on!"

Charlie ripped open the wrapper of the bar, revealing a golden ticket inside. "Charlie..." Rose breathed in disbelief, gently grabbing his shoulder. "You found it.."

"It's a golden ticket" the shopkeep said. Everyone in the shop was now looking at the young boy. "You found Wonka's last golden ticket! In my shop too!"

A man approached Charlie. "Listen, I'll buy it from you. I'll give you fifty dollars and a new bicycle"

A woman walked up to Charlie. "Are you crazy? I'll give him five hundred dollars for that ticket!" The woman smiled at Charlie. "Do you want to sell me that ticket for five hundred dollars young man?"

"No, he doesn't!" Rose shouted at the two adults. "That's my brother's ticket!"

"She's right" the shopkeep said. "Don't let anyone have it! You and your sister take it straight home. Do you understand?"

Charlie grinned at the shopkeep. "Thank you!" He then grabbed Rose's hand. The two of them ran like the wind all the way home.

******

"Mom! Dad!" Charlie called out once he and Rose got to the house. "I found it! The last golden ticket! It's mine!" Charlie showed the ticket to Grandpa Joe.

"Yippee!" Grandpa Joe cheered once he got a clear look at it. He jumped out of bed and began dancing. Everyone stared at him in amusement and surprise. "Here!" Grandpa Joe handed the ticket over to Mr and Mrs Bucket. "Read it out loud. Let's see exactly what it says!"

Mr Bucket began reading from the ticket. "Greetings to you, the lucky finder of this golden ticket from Mr Willy Wonka. I shake you warmly by the hand. For now, I do invite you to come to my factory and be my guest for one whole day. I, Willy Wonka, will conduct you around the factory myself showing you everything there is to see.  Afterwards, when it is time to leave, you will be escorted home by a possession of large trucks, each one filled with all the chocolate you could ever eat. And remember: One of you lucky five children will receive an extra prize beyond your wildest imagination. Now, here are your instructions. The first of February, you must come to the factory gates at ten am sharp. You're allowed to bring one family member to look after you. Till then, Willy Wonka"

"First of February" Mrs Bucket said.  Her eyes widened when she realized. "That's tomorrow"

"Then there's not a moment to lose, Charlie" Grandpa Joe said. "Wash your face, comb your hair, scrub your hands, brush your teeth, blow your nose!"

"And get that mud off your pants!" Grandpa George added.

"Now we must all try to keep very calm" Mrs Bucket said. "First thing that we have to decide is this. Who is going with Charlie to the factory?"

"Rose will" Grandpa Joe suggested.

"Me?" Rose asked.

"Yes, of course! You want to see the factory as much as Charlie does!" Grandpa Joe reasoned.

"How about you, dear?" Mrs Bucket turned to Mr Bucket. "Don't you think you want to go?"

"Well, Rose does love the factory as much as Charlie does" Mr Bucket said. "Provided, of course, she does want to go"

"No" Charlie said, shocking everyone. "We're not going. A woman offered me five hundred for the ticket. We need the money more than we need the chocolate"

"Charlie," Rose started, getting level with Charlie. "There's plenty of money out there in the world. They print more everyday. However, there's only five tickets in the world and that's all there ever will be. All your life you've dreamed of seeing that factory. Please, don't make a mistake and throw that away. Don't make a mistake like I did today"

Everyone furrowed their eyebrows at Rose. "What are you talking about, sweetheart?" Mr Bucket asked.

"It doesn't matter. What matters right now is that Charlie is going to see the factory tomorrow. Your dreams are coming true"

That seemed to get through Charlie's head. He smiled wide. "Alright, I'll go. And you're going with me, Rosie. After all, you bought me the chocolate"

That's when it hit Rose. She had kept her promise after all. She had promised she would get Charlie a golden ticket, and she did. The two of them hugged. Tomorrow was going to be quite the day for the Bucket siblings.

[shuahoonie]

you. [tom holland] - five.

PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader

SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.

WARNINGS: mostly swearing! sexual innuendos are present kids! a bit of fluff, a bit of angst. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish! this is definitely a filler chapter tho. 

WORD COUNT: 3761 words

SONG INSPO: hard times - paramore

A/N: hiya babes! sorry if i skipped a two weeks-worth of an update, got caught up from uni & my part-time job. been writing for uni a lot, and ngl yall kinda wanna cry! anyways, the amount of love i’ve received for this series is wild you guys!!! thank you so much for the kind words! i know i suck at replying but please know that i really appreciate it you guys and y’all make me feel soft and so loved 🥺 sorry again for the late update, hope this makes up for it!! enjoy part five & happy reading x 🥰💛

UPDATES EVERY SATURDAY 11 PM CST 

gif credits: @thwip

vanessa’s masterlist | one | two | three | four | six | seven | eight | eight.5 [interview excerpt] 

You woke up by the sun beaming on your face. Already dreading the day, you pulled the covers over your head and buried yourself in the pile of pillows that were taking up most of the space on your bed. God, you were exhausted from yesterday. 

See, yesterday- yesterday was a blur. Everything happened so fast. You and Tom were trending on Twitter for god-knows how many hours. Headlines about you two dating were plastered everywhere. 

It made you roll your eyes. Do people care that much? And they do. People cared a lot about you two. People said that you two look great together, while a handful said you were in it for the clout. Technically, we both are. 

So, now that you got the people’s attention, what’s next? 

Well, for starters, they started tracking yours and Tom’s relationship from where and how it started. They wouldn’t find anything because you two aren’t really dating in the first place. 

However, they did compilations of possible hints that you two were dating-or maybe was just getting to know each other. Luckily for you two, you followed each other on Instagram for quite a while now so you got that foundation to build up. 

You liked some of his photos before, as did he. You actually found Tom quite adorable back then. The first time you saw him was when you saw Captain America: Civil War with your friends. You and your friends bonded over watching Marvel movies and once you saw Tom Holland as Peter Parker on screen, it was safe to say that you weren’t just crushing on Sebastian Stan anymore. 

However, you did convince yourself that nothing trumps over your crush on Sebastian Stan. You also convinced yourself that you were crushing on Peter Parker-not Tom Holland. Peter Parker was sweet and kind, Tom Holland was not. 

You pushed off the covers and finally pulled yourself out of bed. After doing your morning routine, you threw yourself into the couch with a coffee in hand while a toast on the other. 

Today was your last day off before you went back to taping so you were expecting a pretty dull day today- that is until your phone kept on buzzing.

You looked at the caller ID before letting out a huge groan, “Zoë, Please for the love of God, it’s my day off.” 

“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” Your manager said on the other line. “And I know it’s your day off, I just wanted to check up on you.” 

You furrowed your brows. “That sounds oddly suspicious, what are you planning to do, Zoë?” 

“Would you relax, Y/N? I was just asking if you have anything to do for your day off.” She replied. 

“I’ll probably do a bit of grocery shopping later, but other than that I might bury myself in blankets and watch movies in the living room.” You answered and took a bite of your toast, frowning as you tried to swallow your sad and bland breakfast. 

“Okay, that’s good to know-Oh, and I also wanted to tell you that your taping tomorrow has been moved for the next two days. Apparently, Alissa won’t be back till tomorrow.” 

“Oh, thank god,” You sighed, relieved to hear that you have another day off. “Thanks for the heads up, Zo. I’ll see ‘ya soon.” You hung up the phone and finished the piece of toast. 

You watched a few episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine before you gathered up the will to get yourself ready. After taking a well-deserved warm bath and doing your extensive skincare routine -watching videos about Koreans sharing their skincare routine on Youtube really got the best of you and your bank account- You put on a plain white shirt and paired it with your favourite pair of mom jeans. 

As you grabbed your keys and your wallet, ready to bust out the door, you heard your phone ring. 

“Are you home?” 

“Yes, I am, Ronnie. Why are you asking?” You asked her. 

“Cool. Can you open the door please?” She asked on the other line. 

Confused, you opened your front door and sure enough, Veronica was standing in front of your apartment wearing her university sweatshirt and denim jeans. 

“Oh thank god you’re ready, I had the most awful day at school. I just received my paper for my 400-level political science class and let’s just say that the mark I got, I haven’t done it in bed for a while now.” Veronica ranted off, taking her shoes off before placing her books on the coffee table. 

It took you a solid minute before you just realized what she just said. “Ronnie, I don’t want to know about your sex life-” You said before you fixed your hair. “Or lack thereof.” 

“I could really use some good fucking, ‘yannoe?” 

“Jesus Christ, Ronnie-” You sighed as you handed her shoes back to her. “C’mon, I have to do some serious grocery shopping.”

“Okay, but I’m driving,” Ronnie said as she grabbed her car keys. “You’re a horrible driver.” 

“Works for me,” You shrugged and locked the front door. 

The travel to the grocery store was typical: you two belting One Direction songs the whole time. You and Veronica were strolling the yogurt aisle when she asked about your whole love life situation. 

“Oi, I thought you and Tom weren’t dating?” She asked as she put an assorted pack of yogurt down the cart. 

“I’m never going to eat that,” You pointed at the yogurt. “And we aren’t.” 

“I will eat it whenever I stop by unannounced at your place,” Veronica argued. “Then what’s with that photo that I’ve seen with you two holding hands yesterday?” 

You looked around, checking if there was anybody within-distance that could hear whatever you were about to say. “We’re not actually dating.” You murmured.

“Come again?” Veronica asked, completely lost. 

“We’re just doing it for publicity.” You whispered loud enough for Ronnie to hear. 

“I’m sorry, but how exactly did it escalate to that?” She asked, totally confused. 

“Remember that stunt I pulled at the club the other day?” 

“Yeah, you were all over the news.” 

“That was the reason as to why it had to escalate to me and him dating.” You answered as you pushed the cart again. 

“Yeah, no, I need a cup of coffee before we do this, I’m all caffeine-out,” Veronica said before she bid of herself off and went towards the Starbucks that was found near the entrance of the store. 

You rolled your eyes playfully at your friend and carried on completing the least stressful adult task for you. 

It was actually quite serene. You managed to finish your shopping without people noticing you-well, that’s a stretch. People did notice you. Most of them gave you an acknowledging nod followed by a small smile, some of them asked for a photo, and only a few just stared at you-which you didn’t mind. 

You were paying for your things when Veronica appeared right beside you with a cup of coffee in hand. “What? Did the line at Starbucks reach the parking lot? What took you so long?” 

“No, but a cute guy bought me a drink.” She beamed, taking a sip of her coffee. 

You chuckled. “Good for you, Ronnie.”

“Y/N, girl, I swear- he has the most gorgeous eyes.” Ronnie carried on, the smile was stuck on her face. “Oh, he was so sweet.” She sighed happily. 

You were happy for your friend since it’s not every day she meets someone that she’s completely enamoured with. However, she can express her liking for this guy while helping you load the grocery back in the cart. “Ronnie, that sounds great and all, but can you help me with the groceries so we can leave now?” You practically begged. 

Veronica nodded and helped you load the groceries back in the cart, immediately speeding up the process. Taking too much time fixing your groceries at the till always gave you anxiety, especially when there’s a long queue behind you. 

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Veronica gasped as you two were walking towards the parking lot. 

“What? What happened? Are you okay?” You asked, completely baffled. 

“I forgot to tell you that he has this amazing accent,” She sighed, making you roll your eyes. 

“Ronnie, I swear to god I will fucking kill you.” You grumbled as Veronica opened the trunk of her car and started handing you the groceries for you to put in. 

“I forgot to get his name though,” She mumbled. “which is a bummer because he was honestly a godsend.” 

All you could do was roll your eyes as you were lost for words. 

“Oh, quit rolling your eyes at me. Just because you have a boyfriend, doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to have one.” Ronnie pointed out. 

“As if I actually have a boyfriend,” You countered, finishing up with the groceries.

“Whatever,” Veronica mumbled and shut off the trunk of her car. “I’ll just put this cart back and-”

“Hey, Veronica, was it?” 

You and Veronica both turned your heads towards the person who just called Veronica’s name. As soon as she saw who the voice belonged to, it gave her extreme delight. 

“Yes,” She beamed at the brunette with insanely blue eyes. “We talked earlier but I didn’t get your name.” 

“Sorry ‘bout that. I had to take a phone call and when I got back, you weren’t there.” The guy explained. You took a good look at him. He seemed familiar but you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it. 

“No, you’re okay! I had to go back to my friend here-which reminds me,” Veronica pulled you closer “This is my best friend, Y/N, Y/N, this is-” 

“Harrison,” The guy smiled at you and extended his hand for you to shake. You politely shook his hand and after what seemed like an eternity, his eyes widened. “Wait, You’re Y/N L/N, right? From the Alchemist?” 

You gave him a small nod, still trying to figure out who he is. “You’re also Tom’s girlfriend, I presume?” He asked a bit shyly. 

“Great. I can’t believe I have to live with that label attached to my name now.” You thought to yourself.

You weren’t exactly sure if and how you were going to answer his question. Where are you with this stunt anyway? Are you and Tom supposed to be vocal about your relationship or were you two just blatant and left the people to figure out for themselves? 

Harrison seemed to take notice of your hesitation in regard to the question. “It’s okay,” He says softly. “I know.” 

“Pardon me?” 

“I know the real deal about you and Tom.” He whispered. 

There was a look of panic in Veronica’s eyes. “Yeah, that they’re totally in love.” She said defensively. You, however, seemed unbothered. You were also curious. You’ve seen Harrison before but you couldn’t point out where you’ve seen him. 

“Harrison, you’re Tom’s best friend, yeah?” You asked him, starting to get a picture of how familiar he is. 

Harrison nodded. “I wasn’t really expecting for our first meeting to be like this.” He chuckled. 

“Eh, it’s alright,” You shrugged. “Much better for us to meet this way and in our own circumstance, considering your friend makes everything ten times more unbearable.”

Harrison let out a small laugh, “Tom’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

“Oh trust me, I know him plenty and so far, I’m not liking it.” You argued quite defensively. “Well, I’ll leave you two to chat for a bit as I put this cart back in its place.” You said as you gave Veronica a short look, in which she beamed at you in return. 

You purposely took your time with returning the pushcart back in its rightful area. You fumbled with your phone for a bit, checking your Twitter only to find out that you’re still trending and people still have no idea what to feel about you and Tom’s relationship. 

“Why did I pour my drink all over him again?” You asked yourself in frustration. 

As you walked back towards Ronnie’s car, you saw your best friend and Harrison talk animatedly around each other with their smiles never leaving their faces. 

The tad bitter side of you wondered if their mouths hurt from all that smiling, it also made you wonder if it’s even okay for a normal person to smile that much. However, the better part of you was glad that your best friend was happy. Veronica needed to be happy. 

Soon after, they bid their goodbyes, not before exchanging phone numbers. Harrison gave you a friendly wave-goodbye before he walked towards his car. 

As soon as you sat on the passenger seat of Ronnie’s car, you were already greeted by a huge smile on her face. 

“Okay, don’t get mad-” Ronnie began.

You groaned. Knowing your best friend, you knew that she did something that will get you mad. “Ronnie, what did you do?” 

“Okay, so I know that tonight was supposed to be our movie night but I just couldn’t help it! You know me through thick and thin, Y/N! You know how I do things impulsively around guys that I’m interested in. I’m like a mindless machine around them! I don’t even know why I’m talking this much when I usually have everything under control but Harrison-” 

“Ronnie sweetie, breathe,” You said with your hands placed on top of her shoulders. “You are babbling and I need you to get straight to the point.”  

Veronica took a deep breath before she said the words that almost made you want to smack the living daylights out of your friend. “I invited Harrison for dinner and I told him he can bring Tom too.” 

“Could you stop?” Veronica threw the kitchen towel at you as you continued to glare at her. “You’re being childish, hon.” 

“I am not being childish! You’re being childish.” You argued, crossing your arms. 

Veronica just stared at you, her face seemingly screams that she’s absolutely done with you. 

“Okay, so maybe I am being childish,” You admitted. “But you threw the towel at me so I’m not the only one here with an attitude.” 

Veronica rolled her eyes as she finished setting up the table. You two were supposed to have pasta over dinner and have a Harry Potter movie marathon while eating junk food. Well, you two were still going to do it, except this time you’re joined by Harrison and Tom. 

“This is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me,” You said dramatically. 

“Y/N, hon, you’re exaggerating. I’m pretty sure this evening’s not going to be bad.” Ronnie commented. 

Veronica left the kitchen and proceeded to the living room to check her makeup in the mirror that was propped over the wall. You followed her into the living room and threw yourself on the couch. 

“Ronnie, why did you even invite them? Don’t you have classes tomorrow? Also, aren’t you supposed to be writing your paper for your social class?” You asked as you watched Ronnie retouch her makeup. 

You were trying your best to cancel this dinner. You tried to reason with your best friend though because this is your house in the first place. However, she pulled the “This is my chance in getting myself a love life” card and she has moaned for years that she really wants to meet someone. You’d do anything for Veronica’s happiness. You’d also do anything to keep your best friend quiet about how she wants to date so bad. 

“I already have my draft for that paper, just need to edit it,” Ronnie replied as she applied a coat of mascara. “Besides, I don’t have any classes on Mondays, you knew that.”

“Right,” you mumbled. “Still think this is a bad idea though. Things got so unbearable with Tom yesterday, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle another day with that guy ever again.” 

After your whole lunch scene with Tom yesterday, it felt suffocating. It was unbearable. He was back with his usual snarky attitude and it drove you mad. 

You learned one sure thing about your set-up though: He was only charming around other people, but if it’s just you two? He was a jerk. 

Not even a minute later, the doorbell rang. You got up and checked who was at the door and sure enough, two familiar faces filled up the screen. 

“Speaking of the devil,” You muttered before opening the door and was greeted by Harrison who gave you a hug. 

“Thanks for having us over, Y/N” Harrison said as he pulled away from the short hug. He then proceeded to give Veronica one, and it was obvious that his intentions were solely focused on her anyway. 

“Uh, yeah. No problem.” You said almost awkwardly as you gave Ronnie a look, who in turn mouthed a grateful ‘Thank you’. 

You turned back to the door and saw that Tom standing there, a stoic look on his face. He looked like he came out of a photoshoot based on the clothes he was wearing: slouchy black button-ups and a pair of denim jeans. “Holland,” You greeted him as you opened the door a bit wider. 

“Y/L/N,” He said as he gave you a once-over. “You look...” Tom seemed like he was really trying hard to think of a nice word to say. 

“Don’t strain yourself,” You said as you rolled your eyes.

You were wearing an oversized band shirt -that was tied in a knot at the front- and paired it with high-waisted patterned pants. You and Ronnie shared a small argument on what you should wear for dinner. 

She insisted that you should dress for your comfort while looking presentable and you argued that that is the outfit that gave you comfort. 

You also argued that Ronnie and her guests should be glad that you weren’t wearing sweatpants like you anticipated before Ronnie invited people for dinner. 

“Good because I wasn’t planning to,” Tom nagged, sending you into absolute overdrive.  

As soon as he had his back turned on you, you resisted the urge of strangling him right then and there. 

Unbeknownst to you and Tom, Veronica and Harrison caught the frustration painted on your face causing them to chuckle amongst themselves. 

You and Tom had only known each other for two days at most, and yet you already had the most confusing relationship that existed in this world. 

“If this carries throughout the evening, the world will know me not as Tom Holland’s girlfriend, but as the girl who killed him.” You muttered to Veronica as you passed by her. 

“Relax, Y/N,” Veronica chuckled as she put a hand over your shoulder. “Dinner wouldn’t be that bad.”  

Saying that dinner wouldn’t be that bad would be an understatement. Dinner was horrible. 

Veronica and Harrison were pretty much occupied during the entire meal. They mostly had their attention to each other, which didn’t surprise you. Ronnie and Harrison were smitten for each other, it actually made you snort. 

You and Tom, though, were a different case. You two were seated across each other and you two wouldn’t stop bickering. 

It started when Tom accidentally kicked your foot underneath the table. 

“Ouch!” You yelped. “Why did you kick me?!”

“It was an accident,” He said defensively. 

“Psh, right” You scoffed. “Accident my ass.” 

The “I accidentally kicked you underneath the table” carried on for the entire meal, with you and Tom exchanging kicks every few minutes. 

You two also shared glares throughout the dinner. 

“Why are you mad at me?!” Tom argued. 

“Because you’re here!”

“Well, why did you invite me then?!” 

“I didn’t! It was all her!” You hissed as you pointed at Veronica who was rather talking intimately with Harrison, and was also very much oblivious to the argument unveiling in front of her and Haz. 

“God, why did I even think coming here was a good idea.” Tom moaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously annoyed. 

It didn’t even end there, as you all moved from the kitchen and into the living room to start the Harry Potter marathon, you and Tom started bickering over a piece of furniture. 

As Ronnie and Haz went to the loveseat sofa, you claimed the larger couch so you could lay down while watching the film and leaving Tom with nothing to sit on. You didn’t have much furniture considering you’re the only one who lives in this apartment. 

“Scoot over, Y/N.” He said as he approached the couch you were laying on.

“You can sit at the ottoman.” 

“And have nothing to rest my back on?”  

“God, you are such a diva.” You grumbled. “Just sit on the floor then.” You replied as you pulled the faux fur blanket over you, keeping you warm and cozy. 

“I don’t want to sit on the floor for hours,” Tom argued as he tried to pull you up from your position. 

“Fine, I’ll get you the floor cushion.” You said in defeat. 

“I want to sit on the couch, Y/N.”

“I am not moving, Holland. You can’t make me.” You said rather childishly. 

“Fine,” Tom sighed and pulled the ottoman closer to the couch. He pulled up your feet and sat on the end of the couch as he propped his feet on top of the ottoman. He placed your feet on top of his lap, as you claimed you weren’t going to get up from your laying down position.  “Then don’t move.” He dictated, leaving you to roll your eyes. 

And as for the cherry on top, you had your manager nag you to post something about your evening. You didn’t even know that Veronica filmed a quick story for her Instagram until you received a message from Zoë saying: “A couple of fans that follow Ronnie saw her story. Share it on your Insta too, it adds foundation to  our story.” 

Ronnie’s Insta story showed the television playing Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s stone, and it panned to Harrison who was smiling softly at the camera and then, panned to you and Tom who were sharing the couch. You two were watching intently and from the looks of it, you looked like a very believable couple. 

Your manager was right and that irked you. The devil works hard but Zoë works harder.

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@thomasthetankson​ @autty0314​ @marvelous-tswiftfan​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @theolwebshooter​ @jackiehollanderr​ @sltwins​ @herondalescecilys​ @notjustpenandpaper​ @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife​ @gothicwidowsworld​ @heartofholland​ @stxfxniexreads  @peruvian-bae​ @hollands-osterfield​ @thenoddingbunny-blog​ @galacticstxrdust​

CAN’T BE TAGGED:

@sectusempried